#moments through our lens

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[prolibytherium]

Absolutely death gripped clenched trying not to comment on reductive posts on ancient greek homosexual relationships

[huellitaa]

there's a sort of true peace and genuine happiness that only comes around a few times in a lifetime and i want to capture every one of them and put them in a heart shaped locket and hold them close to my chest forever and ever

[valtsv]

any and all "fandom drama" that isn't actually interpersonal ideological conflict filtered through the lens of guy from shows is completely unserious if you take even a moment to zoom out. like we are straight up playing with our toys WHAT is there to get mad about.

[hurtblossom]

Crush ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!Reader

Summary : Quadrant has a new videographer

Warnings : Angst, quite long, bad english, Lando being clueless (as always)

(Y/N) couldn’t believe she was here—working for Quadrant, his brand. When she’d gotten the offer, she had hesitated for a moment, unsure if being this close to Lando Norris would be a good idea. She’d been a fan of his for years, following his career from his early F1 days, her admiration growing with every race and every glimpse of his playful, goofy personality online. Somewhere along the way, admiration had turned into something more—a quiet, unspoken crush she’d never dreamed of acting on.

But when the opportunity to join Quadrant as a videographer came up, she couldn’t resist. It was a chance to work with an incredible team, hone her skills, and, well, maybe get to know Lando a little better. Not that he’d notice her, she thought wryly. Lando Norris didn’t seem like the type to look twice at someone like her.

Her first day on set, she was practically buzzing with nerves. Max had introduced her to the team, and everyone had been friendly, welcoming her into the fold. But Lando? He hadn’t even glanced her way. Too busy cracking jokes with Max and Ria, his energy filling the room like a spotlight she could never step into.

Still, she stayed in the background, focusing on her work, capturing the chaos of the group with her camera. That was her job, after all—to be invisible, to let the team shine while she stayed behind the lens. She told herself it was better this way. No awkward introductions, no chance to embarrass herself. But even as she worked, she couldn’t help stealing glances at him, her heart skipping every time he laughed or flashed that signature grin.

The shoot that day was arcade basketball, and the Quadrant crew was in rare form—teasing, shouting, and turning everything into a competition. Lando was at the center of it all, of course, trash-talking Max one second and tossing a ball wildly off-target the next. (Y/N) stayed behind her camera, quietly capturing every moment, trying not to let her smile show too much.

It wasn’t until halfway through the shoot that Lando finally noticed her.

“Who’s that?” he asked loudly, pointing at her mid-throw. The basketball clattered off the rim as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

Max rolled his eyes. “She’s been here all day, mate. That’s (Y/N). She’s our new videographer.”

“New videographer?” Lando repeated, his brow furrowing. He walked over, tossing the ball to the side. “And no one told me?”

“I assumed you’d notice,” Max shot back with a grin.

Lando ignored him, stopping in front of her with an apologetic smile. “Hi. Sorry about that. I’m Lando. Welcome to Quadrant.”

She swallowed hard, clutching the camera like a lifeline. Up close, he was even more magnetic, his warm eyes and easy smile making her heart race. “Hi. I’m (Y/N),” she managed, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’ve been filming this whole time?” he asked, tilting his head. “Wow, I didn’t even notice. That’s impressive.”

She blushed, ducking her head. “That’s kind of the goal.”

Lando chuckled. “Fair enough. Well, glad to have you. Hope you’re ready for this lot—they’re a handful.”

“She’s already handling it better than you would,” Ria teased, earning another round of laughter.

(Y/N) smiled, relaxing slightly as the group’s banter filled the room again. But as Lando walked back to his game, she couldn’t help feeling the way her cheeks burned, her mind replaying the brief moment they’d shared.

The rest of the shoot went smoothly, but (Y/N) found it increasingly hard to concentrate with Lando in her peripheral vision. Every joke he cracked, every time he glanced her way, she felt her heart skip a beat. She knew she was being ridiculous—he was just being friendly, just doing his job. But still, she couldn’t shake the tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more.

After the shoot, as the team started packing up, Lando approached her again. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said casually, hands in his pockets. “Thanks for today. You did great.”

“Thanks,” she replied, smiling up at him. “You guys made it easy. You’re all… pretty entertaining.”

He grinned. “Entertaining, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

She laughed softly, feeling a bit bolder. “Well, I’ve seen worse basketball skills, if that helps.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow. First day and already roasting me. I like it.”

Her cheeks warmed, but she smiled back, her nerves melting under his playful energy. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room, the rest of the team fading into the background. But then Max called out, breaking the moment, and Lando gave her a quick nod before heading off, leaving her heart racing.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/N) settled into her role, quickly becoming an integral part of the team. She captured every wild moment, every inside joke, and every ridiculous stunt with precision, earning praise from everyone—including Lando. But the more time she spent around him, the harder it became to ignore her feelings.

He was just so… him. Funny, charming, effortlessly confident. She found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn’t control, her quiet admiration growing with every shared laugh and fleeting glance.

But she kept her feelings hidden, afraid of what might happen if he found out. To him, she was just the camera girl, part of the team but always on the edges. And she told herself that was enough, even as her heart ached for more.

One evening, after a long day of filming, the team had dispersed, leaving just her and Lando in the studio. She was reviewing footage on her laptop when he wandered over, leaning against the table beside her.

“Got anything good?” he asked, peering at the screen.

She smiled, tilting the laptop so he could see. “Plenty of missed shots and bad jokes. Pretty standard.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “That’s Quadrant for you.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the footage play. But then Lando turned to her, his expression softer than usual. “You’ve been doing an amazing job, you know. I don’t think we’ve said that enough.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. “Thanks, Lando. That means a lot.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. “You’re really good at this, (Y/N). And… I’m glad you’re here.”

The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise, and she felt her cheeks warm under his gaze. She wanted to say something, to tell him how much his words meant, but the lump in her throat stopped her.

Instead, she smiled, her voice soft. “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the air between them thick with unspoken words. But just as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and Lando leaned back, flashing her a grin. “Alright, I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t make me look too bad in the edits, yeah?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “No promises.”

As he walked away, her heart swelled with both happiness and longing. She knew she couldn’t let herself hope for more—not yet. But for now, she was content to stay behind the lens, capturing every moment, every laugh, every smile, knowing that even if he didn’t see her the way she saw him, at least she could be a part of his world.

Weeks had passed since (Y/N) had joined Quadrant, and every day felt like a mix of joy and heartbreak. Working alongside Lando was everything she’d dreamed of—he was kind, funny, and always made her feel like a part of the team. But the more time she spent with him, the more her crush deepened, and with it, the painful realization that he didn’t see her that way.

Still, she told herself it didn’t matter. Being close to him, even as just a colleague, was enough. Or at least, that’s what she kept repeating.

The team was gearing up for another shoot, and (Y/N) was already busy setting up the cameras and mics. Lando was running late, as usual, and the rest of the group was milling around, chatting and joking. When Lando finally arrived, he wasn’t alone.

“Guys, this is Magui,” he announced, stepping into the room with a confident grin. The girl beside him was striking—beautiful, with long, wavy hair and a radiant smile that seemed to light up the room. “She’s joining us for today’s video.”

(Y/N)’s heart sank the moment she saw them. Magui was clearly close to Lando; the way he stood next to her, the ease of their laughter, the little glances they exchanged—it was painfully obvious.

Max raised an eyebrow. “New guest star, huh? Fancy.”

Magui laughed, her voice warm and melodic. “I’m just here to make sure Lando doesn’t embarrass himself too much.”

“Good luck with that,” Ria quipped, earning a round of laughter.

(Y/N) forced a smile, keeping her head down as she fiddled with her equipment. Her chest felt tight, but she told herself it was nothing. Lando was free to bring whoever he wanted into the group—it wasn’t like she had any claim on him. But as she watched them banter, the way Lando’s face lit up every time Magui said something, the ache in her heart grew.

The video shoot was a nightmare for (Y/N). Not because of technical issues—everything went smoothly on that front—but because every moment felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Lando and Magui were front and center, their chemistry undeniable as they joked and competed with the rest of the team. Magui fit in effortlessly, her charisma matching Lando’s energy in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“Magui, you’ve got to beat him at this,” Max called out during one of the challenges, handing her the controller.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Magui said, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve got this.”

Lando laughed, leaning closer to her. “You think you can beat me? Good luck.”

Watching them, (Y/N) felt like an outsider. She stayed behind the camera, filming their interactions, capturing the moments that everyone else would find entertaining—but for her, it was torture. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like if she were the one standing next to him, sharing those laughs, being the one to catch his attention.

When the shoot finally wrapped up, (Y/N) was the first to start packing up her gear. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, before anyone noticed the strain on her face.

But as she was putting away the last of her equipment, Lando approached her, his usual grin in place. “Hey, (Y/N), thanks for today. You made us all look good as always.”

She forced a smile, avoiding his gaze. “Just doing my job.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “You okay? You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, her voice clipped. “Just tired.”

Lando frowned, clearly not convinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him from across the room. “Lando! Come on, we’re heading out!”

He glanced back at (Y/N), hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Alright. See you later?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, watching as he walked away, his attention already back on Magui.

As the door closed behind them, (Y/N) sank into her chair, her hands trembling slightly. She told herself it was silly to feel this way, that she was just reading too much into things. But the truth was undeniable: she had fallen for Lando, and watching him with someone else felt like her heart was breaking in slow motion.

That night, (Y/N) sat in her small apartment, staring at the footage she’d captured earlier. She watched as Lando and Magui laughed, the way he looked at her with an ease and warmth that he’d never shown (Y/N). Her chest ached as she replayed the clips, over and over, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Lando didn’t see her. Not the way she wanted him to. To him, she was just the camera girl, the one who stayed in the background, capturing the moments that made him shine. And while she was proud of her work, proud to be a part of the team, she couldn’t help but feel invisible.

The next day, the Quadrant group chat was buzzing with messages about the next video, everyone chiming in with ideas and suggestions. Lando sent a message saying he wanted to bring Magui back for another shoot, and the rest of the team seemed thrilled.

(Y/N) stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She wanted to be happy for him, to support him the way she always had. But the thought of watching them together again, of filming moments that felt like they were cutting her open from the inside, was almost too much to bear.

Before she could overthink it, she typed out a quick message: “I’m feeling under the weather. Might need to sit this one out.”

Lando responded almost immediately. “That’s okay! Rest up. We’ll handle it.”

His words were kind, but they only made her feel worse. She wanted him to notice, to ask her what was wrong, to care. But he didn’t. And that, more than anything, told her what she needed to know.

As she set her phone down, tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She’d known from the start that her crush on Lando was one-sided, but seeing it play out so clearly, so painfully, made it impossible to ignore.

For now, all she could do was step back, focus on her work, and remind herself that sometimes, even when you care deeply about someone, the best thing you can do is let them go.

~~~

(Y/N) took the next few days off, staying away from the group chat and ignoring messages from the team. She needed space—not just from Lando, but from the whole world of Quadrant that revolved around him. She threw herself into editing past footage, focusing on the technical details to distract herself from the pain still lodged in her chest.

But avoiding Lando was harder than she thought. Every video she edited, every laugh and playful insult she clipped together, reminded her of him. Of the warmth he brought into every room, of the little sparks of kindness he’d shown her when she thought, for just a moment, that he might see her as more than the girl behind the camera.

Two Weeks Later

(Y/N) was back on set, quietly filming another chaotic Quadrant shoot. Magui was there again, her presence bright and cheerful as always. She was every bit as perfect as (Y/N) had remembered—funny, confident, and effortlessly charming. And Lando? He seemed happier than ever, his energy electric whenever Magui was around.

(Y/N) did her best to stay in the background, focusing on her work and keeping her distance. But it didn’t take long for Lando to notice.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he called out during a break, jogging over to her as the others grabbed drinks. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet lately.”

She forced a smile, adjusting her camera to avoid looking at him directly. “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Busy?” he repeated, frowning slightly. “You’ve barely said a word to anyone. Did I do something wrong?”

Her heart twisted at the concern in his voice. Of course, Lando would think it was about him, but not for the reason he’d assume. She shook her head quickly. “No, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind.”

Lando studied her, his brows furrowing. “Are you sure? Because if there’s something bothering you, you can tell me.”

The sincerity in his tone made her throat tighten. She wanted to tell him—wanted to say everything she’d been holding back. But as she looked at him, his eyes filled with concern, she knew she couldn’t. He wasn’t hers to confide in. He never had been.

“I’m fine, Lando,” she said softly. “Really.”

He hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but before he could press further, Magui called out to him, waving him over. He glanced back at (Y/N), looking like he wanted to say more, but then turned and jogged toward Magui, his smile lighting up as he joined her.

(Y/N) watched them from behind the camera, the ache in her chest spreading like wildfire. She felt silly, pathetic even, for letting this affect her so much. But no matter how hard she tried to push it down, the pain refused to fade.

Later That Evening

The shoot had wrapped, and (Y/N) stayed behind to pack up her equipment while the others headed out for dinner. She’d made an excuse about needing to finish editing, though in truth, she just couldn’t bear to sit across from Lando and Magui, pretending everything was fine.

The studio was quiet, the only sound the hum of her laptop as she loaded the footage from the day. She tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting, the weight of everything she felt pressing down on her.

“Still here?”

The voice startled her, and she turned to see Lando standing in the doorway, his hoodie pulled up, his hair slightly messy from the day. He looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“I thought you were going to dinner with the others,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, stepping inside. “I was, but… I wanted to check on you first.”

She swallowed hard, looking down at her laptop. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” he said, leaning against the table beside her. “But I don’t believe you.”

His words made her chest tighten, and she felt the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill. She shook her head, trying to keep her voice steady. “It’s nothing, Lando. Really. I’m just… tired.”

“(Y/N),” he said softly, his tone gentle but insistent. “Talk to me. Please.”

She looked up at him then, meeting his gaze, and for a moment, she considered telling him everything. But the thought of his reaction—of the awkwardness, the pity, the possibility of losing what little connection they had—stopped her.

“It’s not something you need to worry about,” she said instead, her voice cracking slightly. “Just… let it go.”

He didn’t move, his eyes searching hers, and for a moment, she thought he might push further. But then he nodded, stepping back. “Okay,” he said quietly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

She watched as he left, the door closing softly behind him. And as the silence settled over her once again, the tears finally fell, her heart breaking under the weight of everything she couldn’t say.

A Week Later

The next video shoot was another big one, with the entire team involved, including Magui. (Y/N) tried to focus on her work, but it was harder than ever, especially with Lando and Magui’s playful chemistry on full display.

During a break, (Y/N) stepped outside for some air, her chest feeling tight. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to steady her breathing.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Her eyes snapped open to see Lando standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, his expression serious.

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” he interrupted gently, stepping closer. “And I don’t know why, but it’s been driving me crazy.”

She looked away, her heart pounding. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re not fine, (Y/N). I can see it. And if it’s something I did—”

“It’s not you,” she blurted out, cutting him off.

He frowned, confused. “Then what is it?”

She hesitated, the words on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. Instead, she shook her head, forcing a weak smile. “It’s nothing, Lando. Forget it.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his frustration clear. But before he could say anything else, Max called out for him from inside, breaking the moment.

Lando sighed, glancing toward the door. “This isn’t over,” he said softly before walking away.

As she watched him go, (Y/N) felt the weight of her unspoken feelings pressing down on her once again. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up, but one thing was clear: something had to change—whether it was her feelings for Lando or her place in his world.

And as the door closed behind him, she realized that letting go of Lando might be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do.

~~~

The decision didn’t come easily, but (Y/N) knew it was the right one. Every day with Quadrant had become a painful reminder of what she couldn’t have, of the unspoken feelings she carried for Lando and the unshakable knowledge that he didn’t feel the same. Watching him with Magui, seeing how naturally she fit into his world, was more than (Y/N) could handle. It was time to step back, to take care of herself before the weight of it all consumed her.

Reading his words brought tears to her eyes. She’d grown to love the team, their chaotic energy, and even the endless teasing. It wasn’t their fault she’d fallen for someone who didn’t see her the way she saw him. Still, she felt a pang of guilt as she hit send on her final reply.

~~~

She didn’t tell Lando directly. She wasn’t sure how, or if he’d even care. Max said he’d inform the team, and that felt like enough. Packing up her gear and stepping away from the studio for the last time was bittersweet. She lingered in the quiet space, memories of laughter and camaraderie playing in her mind.

As she locked the door behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when Lando found out she was gone. Would he even notice? The thought lingered as she drove home, a mixture of sadness and relief washing over her.

Two Days Later

The first message came from Ria.

Ria: “What’s this about you leaving? Are you okay? Let me know if you need to talk.”

Then Max.

Max: “Hope you’re doing alright. The studio’s not the same without you.”

She responded to each of them, assuring them she was fine, that she just needed time. But the message she was dreading never came. Lando didn’t reach out—not a text, not a call. The silence was deafening, confirming what she’d feared all along: he didn’t notice. Or worse, he didn’t care.

Weeks Passed

(Y/N) threw herself into freelance work, taking on projects that let her focus on her craft without the emotional baggage that came with Quadrant. Slowly, the ache in her chest began to fade. She stopped checking their YouTube channel obsessively, stopped scrolling through photos of Lando and Magui together. She convinced herself that she was moving on.

But one evening, as she was editing late into the night, her phone buzzed with an unexpected notification.

Lando Norris: Hey. Can we talk?

Her heart skipped a beat, her fingers frozen over her keyboard. She stared at the message, a flood of emotions rushing in. She wanted to ignore it, to pretend she hadn’t seen it, but her curiosity—and the tiny flicker of hope she couldn’t extinguish—got the better of her.

(Y/N): Sure. What’s up?

The reply came almost instantly.

Lando: Are you free to meet? I’d rather do this in person.

Her stomach churned with nerves, but she agreed, setting a time and place for the next day. She spent the night replaying every possibility in her mind, trying to prepare herself for whatever he wanted to say.

~~~

They met at a quiet café, tucked away from the usual chaos of their lives. Lando was already there when she arrived, his hat pulled low, his expression uncharacteristically serious. He stood as she approached, offering her a small, hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Thanks for coming.”

She nodded, sitting down and folding her hands in her lap. “What’s this about, Lando?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Max told me you left.”

Her throat tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “I needed some time.”

“Why?” he asked, leaning forward, his gaze searching hers. “Did something happen? Was it… me?”

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. She hesitated, unsure how to respond. “It wasn’t you, Lando. Not entirely.”

His brows furrowed. “Then what? You were such a big part of the team, (Y/N). I… I miss having you around.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to stay grounded. “It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me,” he pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “Because I feel like I missed something, and I don’t want to keep missing it.”

She met his gaze, the weight of everything she’d held back pressing down on her. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke.

“I liked you, Lando,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I liked you more than I should have, and it made things… hard. Watching you with Magui, being part of the team but always on the outside—it hurt. So I left, because I couldn’t keep doing that to myself.”

His eyes widened, surprise flickering across his face. For a moment, he said nothing, and she braced herself for the rejection she knew was coming.

“I had no idea,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought… I thought you just didn’t want to get close.”

She shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t get close, Lando. Not when you didn’t see me the way I saw you.”

He leaned back, running a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. And Magui… she’s just a friend. I never realized how it must have looked.”

She blinked, his words taking a moment to register. “Just a friend?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “I didn’t… I don’t feel that way about her. I didn’t even know you felt this way about me.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken possibilities. Lando reached across the table, his hand brushing hers lightly.

“Is it too late to fix this?” he asked softly.

(Y/N) looked at him, her heart torn between hope and fear. She didn’t know the answer, but for the first time in weeks, she felt the faintest spark of possibility. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late to rewrite their story.

please comment and let me know what you thought of the story

[robsheridan]

Hard to believe Nine Inch Nails' classic The Downward Spiral is 30 years old today! Here is some detail photography I took of the original album cover painting by Russell Mills for the 10th anniversary deluxe edition release, which I had the unique honor of designing, and somehow that is now 20 year old.

Everyone has that one album that hit at just the right moment of adolescence to change their perspective on music and get them through their teenage angst. The Downward Spiral was that album for me, released as it was in 1994, when I was a freshman in high school (and an absolute banner year for music/films/games all around). I must have stared at the artwork for hours over those years, without even much detail to draw from on its tiny 5” CD slip case. So five years later, when I found myself inexplicably working for Nine Inch Nails, it was surreal to see the actual original painting in the flesh, hanging as it was at the time in Trent Reznor’s office at Nothing Studios, New Orleans.

I was struck by how much dimension and texture there was in the artwork that never translated on that tiny slipcase printing, how much detail was happening in the physical materials of the art: Flies, moths, wires, blood… I had been staring at this “painting” for so long, yet suddenly it was like I had never seen it before. I also noticed that it had aged - the wires had wilted over the years, drooping down from their original position as captured in the original album cover (interestingly, judging by the photo posted today by NIN, the piece has since been restored); a tooth was missing from the other main piece.

That experience stuck with me and it was the first thing I thought about when the task of re-imagining the album package fell upon me in 2004. I wanted to re-photograph the artwork, subtly updating the cover to show that ten years had changed it physically, much like our perceptions of art and music and memories change over time with perspective. I also wanted to dig into the previously unseen details of the work and explore it with my macro lens, so that fans like me, old and new, could have new layers of texture to pore over for hours while listening to a legendary album.

Happy birthday, old friend.

[greengoblinswifey]

Could you possibly do a Nicholas Chavez smut that involves recording you guys doing it thank you smsm much love

warnings— praise kink, oral(m&f receiving), degrading kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, ass slapping, creampie, breeding kink.

a/n— hope you enjoy, like and reblog <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

You could hear the water running as you picked up the small digital camera, a mischievous idea forming in your mind. Slipping quietly into the bathroom, you saw Nicholas through the fogged glass, water cascading down his skin. He looked sexy, his body warm and slick from the shower, unaware of your presence until he caught sight of you and the camera in your hand.

Raising an eyebrow, he smirked. “What are you up to?”

You pressed ‘record,’ angling the camera at him as he finished rinsing off. “I thought maybe we'd make memories,” you teased, watching his expression shift from surprise to intrigue.

He stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel, and you kept the camera on him, following every movement as he ran the towel over his damp skin. “So, we’re making amateur porn now?” he joked, grinning.

You shrugged playfully. “Maybe. I mean, we never watch porn, why not make our own?”

He chuckled, a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I like that idea. Always thought it’d be something to look back on, our little moments.”

“Then you’re on board?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up as you recorded his soft, yet intensely curious gaze.

“Absolutely,” he replied, stepping closer. “Let’s capture every second.”

Once you were in the bedroom, you aimed the camera toward him, focusing on every detail—the hard lines of his abs, the toned muscles in his arms, the way his skin caught the low light. You couldn’t hold back a smile. “God, you’re so hot,” you murmured, letting the words slip out without a second thought. His face lit up with a grin, one that was both flattered and a bit cocky.

Nicholas took a few steps closer, closing the distance between you, and gently took the camera from your hands. “Here,” he said, setting it on the TV stand so it angled perfectly toward the bed. “Now we’ll have the best view of you.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but he just leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. The two of you fell back onto the bed, bodies pressed close. His hands found their way to your hips, and your gaze drifted toward the camera, noticing the small red light recording. He smirked, catching where you were looking.

“Bet you look hot on there,” he whispered, his voice low. Then he pulled back, a spark in his eyes. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Curious, you tilted your head as he went to grab the camera again. He handed it to you, guiding your hand until you were holding it just above you. His gaze held a mischievous glint as he settled himself between your legs, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your thigh.

“Hold it steady,” he said, his voice warm with a hint of a challenge. His eyes flickered between you and the lens. “Want you to see just how good you look.”

You could barely focus on holding the camera as his mouth attached to your clit, his movements slow, deliberate. He glanced up, catching your eyes and giving you a smile that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to keep the camera steady, but each look he gave you made it harder to concentrate, each gentle touch feeling somehow magnified through the lens.

“Think you’re gonna be able to keep it still?” he teased, looking up at you with a grin.

You gave a soft laugh, your breath hitching. "I’ll try."

Nicholas’ eyes flicked to the camera, then back to you. “Good, because I want you to watch.”

Watching Nicholas through the lens, you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken. He looked incredible, every muscle flexing, his gaze entirely focused on you. When he glanced up, his eyes filled with a dark intensity, he murmured, “Tell me how good it feels.”

Your voice came out breathy, almost a whisper. “It feels amazing, you’re amazing daddy.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips along your collarbone, and then you felt his fingers slip inside, gentle but confident. Your reaction was immediate, a moan that you didn’t even realize was so loud until you saw him smirk, eyes flicking to the camera for a second. “Can’t wait to hear these sounds on playback,” he murmured, a glint of satisfaction in his voice.

When you finally reached your release, he held you close, trailing soft kisses over your shoulders and up to your jaw. “You did so good for me baby,” he whispered, brushing a few strands of your braids from your face. His voice was soothing, grounding you.

He glanced at the camera, then back to you with that mischievous smile. “Now it’s my turn to hold this.” He picked up the camera, positioning it to capture everything. “Get on your knees for daddy,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing authority.

You moved into position, looking up at the lens with wide, needy eyes that made him groan softly. “Just like that,” he murmured, his fingers slipping into the braids framing your face as he recorded.

You took his thick cock into your mouth, and he let out a pleased sigh, running his fingers through your braids, guiding you gently. “Such a good girl for daddy,” he breathed, voice dropping to a near whisper. His gaze shifted between you and the camera, clearly savoring every second.

As things reached a peak, he pulled back, his breaths heavy. “Look into the camera for me,” he said, his thumb gently tilting your chin. You looked up, meeting the lens with a soft smile as he murmured, “So hot, you’re perfect.” You stuck your tongue out as he came all over your face, the camera capturing your best angles. He moaned in contempt as you licked your lips and the tips of his cock, amazement swelling inside him.

He lowered the camera, the appreciation in his eyes clear as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss.

Nicholas looked at you, his eyes dark with intensity. “I want you to ride daddy’s dick, sweetheart,” he murmured, settling himself back against the headboard. You moved to straddle him, feeling the warmth and closeness between you as you positioned yourself. He adjusted the camera, making sure it captured the two of you perfectly.

As you lowered yourself, his hands found your waist, a smile tugging at his lips. “Just like that baby, so good,” he praised softly. His gaze flicked to the camera for a second before landing back on you. “Look at you. So beautiful—you love this, don’t you?”

You felt his hands slide lower, gripping you tighter to guide your movements. With a small grin, he gave you a gentle slap on the ass, urging you to pick up the pace. “Faster slut,” he whispered. Your rhythm grew more intense as he admired you, glancing back at the camera with a proud smile. “See how perfect she is?” he murmured, almost to himself.

He moved with you until he set the camera back on the table, making sure it captured your entire bodies moving in synce. His voice was a low encouragement, “Come on, beautiful. Let go for me.”

With his words, you felt yourself relax completely in his arms, letting the orgasm sweep over you. Just as you caught your breath, he carefully moved you onto your back, keeping his focus on you. His eyes met yours, his gaze warm and intent as he leaned closer.

“Tell me,” he murmured, a playful smirk in his eyes as he looked between you and the camera. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

Barely able to speak, you answered softly, “You daddy.”

With a proud, tender smile, he wrapped his arms around you, his hips snapping against you. “You’re such a slut for me baby, only sluts want to be amateur pornstars,” he panted, his thrusts speeding up and making the bed frame slam against the wall.

His words had you on the edge and you wrapped your legs around him, meeting his thrusts and grinding against his pelvis. “See, what did I tell you? You’re such a slut, sweetheart.”

Nicholas' hands found your neck, his grip firm as he held you close. “Come on, beautiful, let go for daddy, right on my cock,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride and encouragement. Your body responded, a wave spurting from your pussy as you gasped his name.

His hands moved to cradle your face, and with a gentle yet intense look, he said, “My turn.” Carefully, he shifted you onto your stomach, his hands warm and steady on your hips. As he leaned closer, his breath brushed against your ear, and he whispered, “Just like this baby.”

The closeness, the trust, everything between you felt powerful. He pulled you back to him by your neck, his arms wrapped securely around it.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” he began, his hips slamming against your ass, “and I’m gonna do it inside you. I’m gonna get you pregnant, get this sexy fucking body swollen with my babies. This is gonna be our baby making tape and we’re gonna look back at it one day and know this is how we made our baby.”

Lost in the warmth and intensity of his words and presence, you felt safe as he held you close, thrusting into your squelching heat. The recording light blinked softly in the background, capturing the moment. With a groan of your name, you felt him still inside you, filling you up to the brim. Nicholas chuckled softly, looking over at the camera with a playful grin. “Guess that’s a wrap, folks,” he teased, making you both laugh as he clicked the stop button.

Settling back into the bed, you rested in his arms, his presence comforting and steady as he held you close. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers gently tracing along your back as you began to drift to sleep, feeling completely at ease in the warmth of his embrace.

[andhumanslovedstories]

Something I've been thinking about in regards to the difficulty of writing about my job in the healthcare profession is that there's very different conversations happening at the same time. The first is that this is a job that gives us a lot of power over vulnerable people that is easy to abuse and easier to be passive about. The second is that people will never not bitch about their jobs.

What if a customer service job was high-stakes? That's nursing. It's not the only part of nursing, but cmon, anyone who has worked a public-facing job knows how some people can be. Hospitals are full of people having the worst days of their lives while also being tired, hungry, lonely, and bored.

Plus, it's not just the general population you're dealing with. Hospitals have a disproportionate amount of very difficult people. To draw some examples from my own direct experience: the dementia patient had become too violent to stay at home (unfortunately common), infected chronic wound guy who is so racist that his facility will not take him back, confused patient who screams unceasingly 24 hours a day until she passes out, sexually inappropriate guy who needs two caregivers at all time, another racist patient but this time they're also sexist, banned from multiple shelters for assaulting the staff, etc. Or what might be the most common: person who is too sick to go home alone but no one they know will agree to take care of them. Like, have any of you cut off horrible relatives or abusive partners? People who were in whatever way unacceptable to be around? Would you like to take care of them? And you KNOW they're also not doing any of the stuff that would help them heal so it seems like they will never leave.

I think the gap between healthcare as a Duty versus as a Job contributes to hostile conversations. When you're complaining about your Job ("that moment when you let a call light ring for a while in the hopes someone else answers this time because that patient is annoying as hell"), it's frustrating to get a response that solely looks at the situation through the lens of a Duty ("all patients deserve the same level of care and shouldn’t be ignored.") And it's also frustrating to have these legitimate criticisms ignored or disputed because people are like "it's not that serious, calm down, let nurses vent." And it’s also frustrating to feel so intensely monitored in your free time because of your job. And it’s also frustrating to see people in their free time display qualities that seem like they would have big, negative impacts on their job.

Thinking on this topic, I keep coming back to this one memory. There was a time when I responded to a Code Blue (cardiac arrest, guy’s heart has fully stopped) and was the fifteenth or so person to arrive. The room's full of critical care nurses, I'm not the direct care nurse, the rest of the floor is quiet. So basically, I'm useless to the emergency situation. I ran into a coworker who also responded to the code. I hadn't seen her in a minute, so we caught up. She showed me the new stickers on her water bottle. I don’t remember the exact sticker, but I believe it was a nacho-based pun. It was a pleasant chat.

Meanwhile during this entire conversation, within eyesight of where we are because we’re waiting around to see if we’re needed, people are trying to bring a patient back from the dead. What was happening in that room is life-or-death--to the patient. For me, it was an interlude during a forgettable shift. I only remember that code because the discrepancy between what I was experiencing and what the patient was experiencing was so stark. I don't even remember if the patient survived or not.

None of the patient’s family was there. If they had been, we would have removed ourselves further or not talked so casually. Probably. But if the spouse was there, it would be so insanely insensitive if we tried to include the patient's spouse in our chat about fun stickers. If me and that nurse had been casually in a different hallway chatting, it would be very abrupt for the patient's spouse to walk into our conversation and explain how the patient's death would be so hard on the kids. One of these examples is way more sympathetic and understandable than the other. And I want that spouse to feel comfortable coming up to me and discussing that! That’s part of my job! But also, you can get why that would be a distressing interruption to a moment of downtime.

In both cases, the people in the conversation couldn't be further apart in tone and investment. Neither of us are being bad people. We just should not be talking to each other. And the nature of the Internet and public posting is sometimes talking about my job feels like it's me, my coworker, the spouse, and the revived but severely affected patient in single group chat.

[loredrinker]

The Eternal Bond of Solas and Lavellan 

My sister challenged me to explore the depth of Solas’s love for Lavellan in Veilguard—a love I believe endures, no matter his choices or the challenges they face. It’s a perspective I’ve seen debated often, with some arguing that if he truly loved her, he wouldn’t have left, or that her love alone should have been enough to change his path.

While many have already explored this topic, truthfully, it’s something I’ve thought about since finishing Veilguard and therefore, couldn’t pass up the challenge. This post is obviously through the romanced Lavellan lens.  

For context, my sister is a staunch Blackwall fan. She wasn’t exactly Solas’s biggest fan during her first Inquisition playthrough, but during subsequent runs, she softened. Eventually, my adoration for Solas won her over and she even played a run through where she romanced him, and found it bitter sweet (and then ran back to Blackwall). 

But before we dive in, there are a couple of things that I take into consideration in this breakdown: 

Solas’s decisions are shaped by millennia of experience and centuries of guilt and regret. He’s not just a guy making impulsive choices—he’s a being who’s lived through unimaginable pain and carried the weight of a broken world for ages. 

Solas is immortal. It’s easy for us, as mortals, to judge his actions through our limited, human perspective. But how can we truly understand the mind of someone who’s lived for thousands of years, seeing empires rise and fall, burdened with trauma, guilt, self-loathing, and the scars of war? 

That said, this mortal is going to give it a shot. Let’s go. A long post under the cut. 

Inquisition – the Foundation 

The seeds of Lavellan’s significance in Solas’s journey—and the path that could one day lead to his redemption—are planted during Inquisition. Lavellan challenges his detachment, offering him something he’s avoided for so long: a glimpse of the world as it is, rather than as it was. Through her, he begins to see beauty in what remains and starts to imagine a life connected to something other than regret and isolation. Her influence is foundational. 

Solas’s love for Lavellan, and the transformation she inspires in him, doesn’t end with his departure. She lingers in his heart, shaping the internal conflict that is still to come.  

Trespasser 

The conversation between Solas and a romanced Lavellan in Trespasser is one of my favorite moments in the series. The different dialogue choices are filled with so much emotion and after two years apart, he still calls her vhenan and “my love.” 

Lavellan’s faith that their love will endure meets Solas’s sorrowful wish that it could. The weight of their connection is undeniable. Unable to resist, he takes one last, bittersweet kiss before saving her life by taking the Anchor. Even after the Inquisition disbands (in my world state), Solas doesn’t completely leave—he lingers, though in a way that’s both haunting and ethereal. 

The epilogue slides lay it out: 

"Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams, she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing. Still she searched, and dreamed, and waited, for a way to change the Dread Wolf's heart." 

Even though they’re apart, his presence in her dreams shows the depth of his unresolved feelings. Watching her with sorrow from across an endless distance captures the conflict between his love for her and the path he’s chosen. Lavellan’s influence on him remains vivid and alive, a tether he can’t fully sever—even as he continues down his fateful road. 

Veilguard – the Letter  

Lavellan’s presence lingers for Solas in Veilguard, years after Trespasser. Her influence is woven throughout the letter he writes for her. 

"Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words." 

He calls no one else vhenan. Starting the letter with this deeply personal term immediately sets the emotional tone. Even after all the years they’ve been apart, Solas still addresses her as his heart, reaffirming that she’s his most profound connection. 

"My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary." 

Beneath the resolve of committing to his mission, is a quiet longing—a hope that Lavellan will understand and maybe even validate the choices that weigh so heavily on him. Her opinion still matters to him. 

What I particularly love is the phrase "...the world will be as it once was, and you will see...". Yes, it’s about his dream of restoring the beauty and harmony of the world he lost, but it also holds this fragile hope that she might still have a place in it. You can sense his desire to imagine a future where Lavellan remains part of his world—or his vision—despite the impossible circumstances. 

"That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin… you do not know how close I came to breaking." 

This part in the letter is such a window into how that moment has stayed with him. It’s clear that it still resonates with him, even after all these years. The way he admits he almost abandoned everything for her shows just how deeply her love impacted him. The word "breaking" says it all—it’s not just about weakness. It speaks to the massive tension between his centuries-old resolve and the pull of his love for her. 

"I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas...as I wanted." 

This confession is a raw admission of how much he wanted a life with her. The phrase "as I wanted" gives us a glimpse into an alternate reality he imagined, a life centered with Lavellan, one he ultimately denied himself for the sake of his mission. 

"What I feel for you will never change." 

This final line is everything. It’s Solas declaring that his love for Lavellan is eternal - because he is. Time, distance, guilt, and even the weight of centuries haven’t dulled what he feels for her. It also mirrors what he says to Lavellan in Trespasser, "I will never forget you." His devotion stands as this unshakable truth in a world full of loss and impermanence. 

Whether Lavellan forgives him, understands him, or even sees his words, the letter shows us a man still tethered.

Rook as a Conduit 

To me, Rook acts as a conduit for the voices that hold the most emotional weight for Solas—Lavellan and Mythal. Through Rook, we get to hear Solas talk about Lavellan directly, and what he says is just as revealing as the letter he left her.  

Solas: “When I served the Inquisition, I tried to avoid entanglements.” 

Rook: “Except for Inquisitor Lavellan.” 

Solas: “I said that I resolved to do so, not that I succeeded.” 

He went into his time with the Inquisition with a clear goal to stay detached. No bonds, no entanglements. But then Lavellan happened. Her love wasn’t something he could resist, no matter how much effort he put into maintaining his distance. 

Solas: “She is a good woman. Growing close to her was selfish of me.” 

When Solas calls Lavellan “a good woman,” it’s admiration and reverence. He doesn’t need to list her strengths outright; instead, his description of her as “good” reflects his personal definition of what that means. 

He also says “She is a good woman,” not “She was.” He’s speaking in the present tense. This small detail makes it clear that Lavellan isn’t just a memory to him or a closed chapter in his life. Even after years apart, she’s still a living, active presence in his heart and mind. He still holds her in respect and love. 

When he says growing close to her was selfish, he isn’t dismissing their bond. If anything, it’s a testament to how much he valued their connection, even though he knew it might ultimately cause her pain. 

Rook: “Do you regret it?” 

Solas: “I live with countless regrets. Some of them I have grown to cherish more than my victories.” 

This dialogue sums up just how much Lavellan means to Solas. He’s lived a long life filled with accomplishments that, more often than not, came with devastating consequences. But his relationship with Lavellan stands apart. That cherished regret tells us that his time with her brought him something no victory ever could: meaning, fulfillment, and joy. 

And then there’s the phrasing: “I have grown to cherish.” It’s also in the present tense. Lavellan’s impact on him isn’t just something from his past. It’s still alive, still deeply embedded in who he is.  

Lavellan holds a unique and enduring place in Solas’s heart. Even with all the pain and consequences of their relationship, she’s still a source of warmth and significance—a constant reminder of how deeply she mattered and still matters to him.  

Love Does Not Exist in Isolation 

I’ve seen comments out there that if Lavellan really mattered to Solas, her voice alone would’ve been enough to stop him from tearing down the Veil. I disagree. It’s clear that it takes a village to sway someone like Solas—a wounded immortal being carrying millennia of guilt and regret. Lavellan’s voice is absolutely foundational, but it’s part of a broader tapestry of influences that all come together at a critical moment. 

Solas’s decision to tear down the Veil doesn’t come from a lack of love for Lavellan. It’s rooted in overwhelming guilt and this deep sense of obligation to his people, to Mythal. Her voice matters because she was one of the first to challenge his beliefs. But hers alone couldn’t undo the weight and trauma of millennia. Voices like Mythal’s were necessary too. 

When Mythal releases Solas from her service, it’s a pivotal moment. It’s a severance of the bond that defined so much of his existence. For Solas, it’s freeing—but also incredibly painful. It forces him to reckon with his autonomy, to face the choices he’s made without the shield of loyalty to Mythal. For a man who’s been carrying so much self-loathing and regret, what a deeply uncomfortable and transformative moment. 

Then there’s Rook, who also plays a crucial role. Before Lavellan and Mythal appear, Rook is the one directly speaking to Solas, urging him to see the world and its people as worth saving. But once Lavellan (followed by Mythal) steps onto the stage, Rook falls silent. It’s as if they instinctively know their role has shifted. It’s no longer their place to persuade; that responsibility now belongs to Lavellan and Mythal.  

Of those voices, it is Lavellan’s that lingers as the last. Hers is not just a plea for him to reconsider his mission - it’s an affirmation that even in the face of millennia, their love is a truth he can’t deny. 

Through the Lens of Immortality 

For a mortal, it might be easy to see Solas’s love as fleeting because of how short-lived it was. What’s a year and a bit compared to thousands of years?  But for an immortal being—and someone as spiritual as Solas – I would think the depth of a bond matters more than how long it lasts. Solas’s love for Lavellan isn’t diminished by how brief their time together was; if anything, it’s magnified by its intensity—a flicker of light cutting through the endless darkness of his existence.  

And for someone who’s immortal, memories don’t fade the way they would for us mortals. Lavellan’s influence on Solas will stay vivid and eternal, untouched by time. Even though their time together was short, her presence is etched into who he is. Her love became this cornerstone of his internal struggle—something he wrestled with but couldn’t fully let go of. He almost gave it all up for her.

For an immortal, loving a mortal is a whole different kind of courage. It’s choosing to embrace something fleeting and fragile, knowing it will end. And still, Solas chose to love Lavellan. A bright chapter in a life that’s otherwise been filled with pain, loneliness, and time stretching endlessly in every direction. 

So yeah, she matters. 

At least, that’s how I see it. 

[anticipatedexhale]

Come on! Get ready!! they're taking you on a date <3

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, vander, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: how cute ! They decide to take you on a date(character)!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. Pure fluff, and yeah that's it!!.

Mel Medarda.

Date Spot: A high-end art gallery followed by an exclusive rooftop dinner.

Mel enjoys sophistication and luxury, so she’d choose an art gallery showcasing Piltover’s finest works, followed by a private, candlelit dinner overlooking the city.

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Mel’s hand rests lightly on your arm as you step into the gallery, the warm glow of chandeliers casting a golden light over the polished floors. The air smells faintly of expensive perfumes and freshly polished wood. As you approach a painting, Mel pauses, tilting her head thoughtfully. “This one,” she murmurs, gesturing to a striking abstract piece, “is about the illusion of control. It’s fascinating how it challenges our need for order.”

You can’t help but watch her as she speaks, the passion in her voice drawing you in more than the painting itself. She notices your gaze and arches a brow. “What? Do I have paint on my face?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No, I just like listening to you.”

Her lips curve into a soft smile. “Careful, darling. Flattery like that might make me keep you out all night.”

Later, as the two of you settle into a cozy corner of a rooftop restaurant, the city’s lights twinkling below, she raises her glass to you.

“To beauty,” she says, her voice low and warm, “both the kind we can see, and the kind we feel.” The candlelight dances in her golden eyes, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away.

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Jayce Talis.

Date Spot: A lively Piltover festival.

Jayce loves excitement and fun, so he’d take you to a bustling festival filled with games, food stalls, and music, making sure it’s a night full of laughter.

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The sound of laughter and cheerful music fills the air as Jayce leads you through the vibrant streets of Piltover’s annual festival. The scent of roasted nuts and sweet pastries wafts by, and colorful lanterns hang above, casting a warm glow.

“Alright, pick a game,” Jayce says, grinning down at you. “I’m winning you a prize.”

You point to a ring-toss booth, and he confidently strides up, paying for a few tries. His first attempt misses completely, and you can’t hold back a laugh. “Hey, that was a warm-up!” he protests, grabbing another ring.

After a few more tries (and some playful banter about his aim), he finally lands one, earning a stuffed animal for you. He hands it over with a triumphant smile. “See? Told you I’d win something.”

As the night goes on, the two of you share sugary treats and dance to live music under the lanterns.

When the fireworks start, Jayce pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “This is nice,” he says softly, his usual confident demeanor giving way to something more tender. “I should take nights off with you more often.”

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Viktor.

Date Spot: A quiet observatory on the outskirts of Piltover.

Viktor values intimate and meaningful experiences, so he’d take you to an observatory where you could stargaze and talk without distractions.

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The observatory is quiet, perched on a hill overlooking Piltover. Viktor leads you inside, his hand brushing yours briefly before pulling away. “I thought you might like this,” he says, his voice soft. “It’s one of the few places where you can actually see the stars clearly.”

As you step onto the balcony, the night sky stretches out above you, a canvas of glittering stars. Viktor adjusts a telescope, his movements careful and precise. “Come here,” he says, motioning for you to look.

You lean over, and he places a hand on your back, steadying you. Through the lens, you see a cluster of stars glowing brightly. “It’s beautiful,” you whisper, straightening up to look at him.

He smiles faintly, his golden eyes reflecting the starlight. “It reminds me of you,” he says after a pause, his voice quieter now. “Brilliant, even in the darkest places.”

For a moment, you’re both silent, the world around you fading into the stillness of the night. Then, Viktor hesitates before reaching for your hand, his touch tentative but warm. “Thank you for being here,” he murmurs. “It means more than I can put into words.”

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Vi.

Date Spot: A rooftop boxing ring overlooking the Undercity.

Vi would take you somewhere personal to her—a rooftop she knows where you can spar, laugh, and share a moment under the stars.

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“Trust me,” Vi says, a teasing grin on her face as she leads you up a narrow staircase. “You’re gonna love this.”

When you reach the top, you’re greeted by a makeshift boxing ring set up on a rooftop. The view of the Undercity sprawls out below, the dim glow of streetlights casting long shadows.

“You brought me to fight?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

She laughs, tossing you a pair of gloves. “Not fight. Spar. Big difference.”

The two of you step into the ring, and she takes it easy on you at first, showing you how to throw punches and block. But soon, the playful competition begins, and before long, you’re both laughing too hard to keep going.

As you sit on the edge of the ring, catching your breath, Vi nudges you with her shoulder. “You’re tougher than you look,” she teases, her eyes softening.

“And you’re not as intimidating as you pretend to be,” you shoot back, grinning.

She leans in, her expression turning serious for a moment. “This was nice,” she says quietly. “I don’t let a lot of people in, but... I’m glad I let you.”

The vulnerability in her voice catches you off guard, and you reach over to take her hand. The two of you sit there for a while, the sounds of the Undercity fading into the background as the stars twinkle above.

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Caitlyn Kiramman.

Date Spot: A picnic in the countryside.

Caitlyn prefers thoughtful, intimate moments. She’d plan a private picnic on a grassy hill outside of Piltover, where the two of you could enjoy some quiet time together surrounded by nature.

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The sun is warm, and the breeze carries the faint scent of wildflowers as Caitlyn sets the picnic basket down on the blanket she’s laid out. You watch as she carefully arranges everything—fresh bread, fruit, cheese, and a bottle of wine.

“I know it’s not as exciting as a big event,” she says, glancing at you as she unpacks, “but I thought we could use a little escape from the noise.”

“It’s perfect,” you assure her, settling down beside her.

She smiles, the tension in her shoulders easing as she pours you both a glass of wine. The two of you spend the afternoon sharing stories, laughing, and enjoying the food. At one point, Caitlyn leans back, her hat shading her face from the sun, and looks at you with a rare, relaxed expression.

“You’re good for me, you know,” she says softly. “I spend so much time chasing leads and solving problems... I forget how nice it is to just be.”

You reach over, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You deserve it, Cait. You work so hard for everyone else.”

Her cheeks flush slightly, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she takes your hand in hers, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her voice almost a whisper. “For reminding me what’s really important.”

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Jinx.

Date Spot: An abandoned fairground in the Undercity.

Jinx would take you to a forgotten fairground she’s decorated herself with colorful lights and strange contraptions. It’s chaotic, but it’s her way of showing you a piece of her world.

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“Ta-da!” Jinx shouts, throwing her arms wide as you step into the abandoned fairground. Strings of mismatched lights are strung haphazardly between rusting rides, and strange, homemade decorations dangle from the stalls.

“You... did all this?” you ask, looking around in awe.

“Of course!” she says, bouncing on her toes. “You’re always saying I don’t do normal dates, so here it is. Jinx-style.”

She drags you toward an old dart booth, where she’s set up bottles and targets. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!” she says, handing you a handful of darts.

After a few rounds of chaotic (and hilarious) attempts at hitting the targets, Jinx pulls you toward the Ferris wheel. It creaks ominously as she climbs inside, patting the seat beside her.

“Don’t worry, it won’t fall,” she says with a mischievous grin. “Probably.”

As the wheel lurches to life, you can’t help but laugh, holding onto the metal bar as the two of you rise above the fairground. The view is a mix of the Undercity’s flickering lights and her makeshift decorations below.

“See?” Jinx says, her voice softer now as she looks out over the scene. “It’s not fancy or perfect, but... it’s ours.”

You glance at her, her usual manic energy replaced with something quieter, almost vulnerable. “I love it,” you say, reaching over to take her hand.

Her cheeks flush slightly, and she looks away, a nervous laugh escaping her. “Good,” she mutters, squeezing your hand tightly. “’Cause you’re stuck with me now.”

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Vander.

Date Spot: A cozy dinner at The Last Drop after hours.

Vander would want to keep things simple and meaningful, opting to cook you dinner in his bar after closing. He’d light a few candles and make sure it’s just the two of you.

---------------------------------------------------

The Last Drop is unusually quiet, the usual crowd of rowdy patrons gone for the night. Vander moves around the bar with practiced ease, a worn apron tied around his waist as he stirs a pot on the stove in the back.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you say, leaning on the counter and watching him.

He glances over his shoulder, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It’s no trouble. You deserve a good meal, and I figured it’s about time I cooked for you.”

The table he’s set up in the corner is simple but thoughtful, with a few candles flickering softly and two plates waiting. When he finally brings the food over—a hearty stew and fresh bread—you can’t help but smile at how much care he’s put into everything.

As you eat, Vander leans back in his chair, watching you with a content expression. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to just sit down and enjoy a meal like this,” he admits.

“Well, you should do it more often,” you say, nudging his foot under the table. “You’re always looking out for everyone else. Let someone look out for you for a change.”

He chuckles, reaching across the table to take your hand. “You’re already doing that,” he says quietly. “Just by being here.”

The warmth in his voice makes your chest tighten, and as the two of you sit there, the world outside the bar fades away.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 25: Birthday Surprise

Rating: Mature Audiences

Warning: fluff, spicy, wlw smut, birthday sex, Paige being a munch, !top paige, !bottom reader, oral (fem reseving), fingering (fem reseving),

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: good... great.... Amazing

Welcome to the chapter 25 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Reader's POV

Birthdays were always a big deal in my family, which made being so far from home this year feel especially hard. For the past two years at UConn, I’d made the trip back to Georgia to celebrate with my mom, dad, and granny. But with classes, work, and filming for the team, there was no way I could manage the trip this time.

Paige had been trying to cheer me up all week, but even her usual antics—like balancing a basketball on her head or dramatically serenading me with off-key versions of random love songs—weren’t doing the trick.

"Don't pout, kid," Paige said, sliding her arms around my waist as I stood at the kitchen counter in her dorm. "We'll make it special here. I promise."

I smiled weakly and nodded. Paige always tried her best to make me happy, and I loved her for it. Still, I couldn’t help missing home.

Paige's POV

I hated seeing Y/N sad, especially on her birthday. That’s why, as soon as she mentioned not being able to go home, I started plotting with the team. With Coach Geno's blessing, we’d arranged for her parents and granny to fly up to Connecticut. But the real trick was keeping it all a secret.

The morning of her birthday, I got up early to decorate my dorm. She practically lived here now, but Y/N was here even more than I was, and I wanted her to feel like this was her space, too.

I hung up strings of fairy lights, scattered balloons and flowers everywhere, and set out a cake on the desk. The highlight was a photo collage I’d made of our favorite moments together—from her first game filming for the team to random late-night study sessions.

When she walked in, still rubbing sleep from her eyes, her jaw dropped.

“Paige…” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

“Happy birthday, baby,” I said, pulling her into a hug.

She clung to me for a moment before pulling back to take it all in.

“This is…wow,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to. You deserve it,” I said, kissing her forehead.

Reader's POV

I thought Paige's dorm setup was the extent of my birthday surprises, but I was wrong.

The game against Oregon state started like any other home game. I was courtside, filming warm-ups and getting close-ups of the team’s determined faces. Paige caught my eye from across the court, flashing me a wink before sinking a perfect three-pointer.

As halftime approached, I packed up my camera to grab some water. But before I could step away, Kk ran up to me, grinning.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she said, practically bouncing on her heels.

“Why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

“Just trust me.”

A few minutes later, the arena lights dimmed, and the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please join us in wishing a very special happy birthday to one of our own—Y/N!”

Spotlights swung toward me, and the crowd erupted in cheers. I froze, my face burning, as the team gathered around me, pulling me toward center court.

“Wait, what is this?” I asked, looking at Paige, who was trying (and failing) to hide her smirk.

She nodded toward the tunnel entrance, where I saw three familiar figures emerging. My heart stopped.

“Mom? Dad? Granny?” I whispered, tears springing to my eyes.

They were here. They were actually here.

I ran toward them, throwing myself into my mom’s arms. She laughed, holding me tightly.

“Happy birthday, baby girl,” she said, her voice warm and familiar.

“How did you…?” I looked over my shoulder at Paige, who shrugged innocently.

“Had a little help,” she said, grinning.

Paige's POV

Watching Y/N light up as her family surprised her was worth all the sneaking around and late-night planning. The crowd cheered as they hugged her, and I felt a swell of pride knowing we’d pulled it off.

After halftime, Y/N’s family joined us in the stands, and she stayed close to them for the rest of the game, though her eyes kept finding mine across the court.

When the buzzer sounded, signaling our win, the team swarmed Y/N again, chanting “Happy Birthday” as loudly and obnoxiously as possible.

Reader's POV

Back at Paige’s dorm that evening, we sat around eating cake with my family, laughing and reminiscing. Granny was telling Paige an embarrassing story from my childhood, and I couldn’t stop smiling.

Later, after my parents and granny went back to their hotel, Paige and I curled up on her bed, the glow of the fairy lights casting soft shadows on the walls.

“Did you have a good birthday?” she asked, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“The best,” I said, leaning into her touch.

“Good,” she said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You deserve it. No let me make it great.”

Sitting up I lift my hoodie off her to reveal she only had my hoodie no shirt under, a smirk grow on my face as my hand slides into her shorts, I rub my hand over her soaked panty clothed pussy. “Your body's doin this all f'me, mamas.” I smirk at the friction of her thighs squeezing my hand.“Nghh,” she whimper. “Look at you, I haven’t even stuffed you full of my fingers yet and you’re just falling apart, f'me.” I whisper into her ear before leaving more hickeys on her collarbone.

Now hovering over her I gently reach for the band of her shorts and panties pulling then down, in a swift motion. I git lower for her pussy letting a string of spit fall onto her pussy as I start rubbing her clit painfully slow. She opens her mouth to respond but all that comes out of it are soft moans and whimpers,  shaking her head. “Use your words mamas, what do you want, hmm.” I tease, fingers dancing around her clenching hole.

The room fills with her cries and moans. “Shh, shh you hear her talking back to me princess?” I say using my thumb to rub slow circles on her clit.“P-please Paige need your fing-” she moan as I bury my fingers into her sopping pussy, makong her breath hitch.

My fingers curl upwards and her eyes roll back, “Found it.”

I say as I speed up, rubbing circles into her pulsing clit, my fingers feeling her tethering closer and closer to the edge.

Her head lolls back into the pillow “M'Pagie, fuck, P.” My fingers continue rubbing the spongey spot “Look at me, birthday girl” I slow my pace a little, “Ma,look at me.” I  order, she looked at me, her eyes glossed over indicating that she was close.

She squirm and whine at the feeling of my fingers inside her dripping pussy speed up. Her mouth opens into an o shape at the filthy squelches that were filling up the room.“Paige, P.” she whimper helplessly. “I know baby, I can feel you squeezing my fingers, make a mess on my fingers mamas,” I says leaning into her biting, sucking at her neck, my cold silver chain dangling and grazing her hot sticky skin. Speeding my pace as I look at her holding eye contact, but before she warn me, she's cumming all over my fingers the white of her eyes the only thing visible.

She grip my arm for support as her legs become shaky. “I- mmm” her orgasm soon passes and I crawl off the bed to my knees, spreading her legs wider.

Gently I blow on her sensitive puffy clit, just before I'm slurping up her release moaning and groaning, holding her hips as she wiggling around from how sensitive she was now. “Mmm, baby you gotta be still m’tryna eat.” she gasp, gripping my hair as I'm practically french kissing her pussy.“So sensitive, f'me ma.” she whimper as she tugged harder on my hair. “I know baby but you can give me one more right?” I  says pulling away looking up at her.

My mouth glistening with her wetness as its dripping down my chin, I give her lower lips a kiss “Can’t you, ma?” I says before biting and sucking at her inner thighs.

Her hands are pulling me closer and I took that as his sign to continue.

Devouring her, my grip around her thighs tighten as I submerge his face into her pussy deepee, my nose ever so slightly grazing against her swollen clit.“Oh my god,” her moans grow louder as her orgasm gets closer, my hand reaches and presses down on her lower stomach.

She let's out a strangled cry out as a clear liquid shoots out of her pussy, her body convulsing as I look at her in shock. “Fuck, mamas."

Reader's pov

I was still catching my breath, my chest rising and falling as I stared at the ceiling of Paige’s bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the faint glow from the string lights casting soft shadows on the walls. Beside me, Paige was propped up on her elbow, her fingers tracing random patterns along my arm.

“You okay, baby?” she asked, her voice soft and teasing.

I nodded quickly, my cheeks heating up. “Yeah… I’m fine.”

“Fine?” she repeated, her tone dripping with amusement. “You sure? Because you’re acting all shy again.”

I groaned, burying my face into the pillow. “Stop it, Paige.”

She laughed, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “What? It’s cute. You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute,” I mumbled, my voice muffled by the pillow.

“Hmm,” Paige hummed, pretending to think. “I don’t know. You were looking pretty cute about ten minutes ago.”

“Paige!” I whined, turning to glare at her, though the blush on my cheeks betrayed any attempt at seriousness.

“What?” she said innocently, her smile growing. “It’s your birthday, princess. I’m just giving you all the compliments you deserve.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto my lips.

“And you’re perfect,” she shot back, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek.

I tried to roll away from her, but Paige was quicker, her arms wrapping around my waist to pull me back toward her.

“Nope, you’re not getting away that easily,” she said, her voice playful.

“Paige, let me go!” I protested, though my laughter betrayed me.

“Not a chance, ma,” she said, her lips brushing against my ear. “You’re stuck with me.”

A little while later, Paige got up from the bed, pulling on her hoodie as she walked toward the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbow to watch her.

She glanced back at me with a smirk. “Running you a bath. You deserve it, birthday girl.”

My heart swelled at the gesture, and I sat up, wrapping the blanket around myself. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” she said simply, disappearing into the bathroom.

I heard the sound of water running and the faint clinking of bottles as she prepared the bath. A few minutes later, she reappeared, leaning against the doorframe with a satisfied look.

“Your bath is ready, princess,” she said, holding out her hand.

I took it, letting her guide me into the bathroom. The tub was filled with warm water, bubbles spilling over the edges. A few candles were lit on the counter, their soft glow making the room feel cozy and intimate.

“Paige, this is amazing,” I said, turning to look at her.

She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “Only the best for my girl.”

I leaned up to kiss her, my lips lingering on hers. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” she murmured against my lips.

I stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water with a content sigh. Paige knelt beside the tub, her chin resting on the edge as she watched me.

“You’re not joining me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She chuckled. “You want me to?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation, giving her a pointed look.

Paige stood up, pulling off her hoodie and stepping out of her shorts. “Alright, scoot up, baby.”

I moved forward to make room for her, and she climbed in behind me, her arms wrapping around my waist as I leaned back against her.

“This is nice,” I said softly, closing my eyes as the warmth of the water and Paige’s presence enveloped me.

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “Happy birthday, ma.”

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, the bubbles slowly disappearing and the water cooling. Paige’s hands moved lazily over my arms, her touch soothing and gentle.

“Do you ever think about the future?” I asked suddenly, my voice barely above a whisper.

“All the time,” Paige said without hesitation. “Especially with you.”

I turned my head slightly to look at her. “What do you mean?”

She smiled, her blue eyes meeting mine. “I mean I think about us. Where we’ll be in a few years, what kind of life we’ll have together. I want it all with you, baby.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt my cheeks heat up again. “You’re too good to me, Paige.”

“You deserve it, plus you're good to me too” she said simply, leaning in to kiss my temple.

The room fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sounds being the faint dripping of water and our steady breathing.

Eventually, the water grew too cold, and Paige nudged me gently. “Come on, princess. Let’s get out before you turn into an ice cube.”

I nodded, letting her help me out of the tub. She wrapped a towel around me, drying me off with care before doing the same for herself.

Back in the bedroom, Paige handed me one of her oversized shirts to wear, and I climbed into bed, feeling warm and content.

She joined me a moment later, pulling me close and tucking the blanket around us.

“Best birthday ever,” I murmured, my head resting on her chest.

Paige chuckled, her fingers running through my hair. “Glad I could make it special, baby. You deserve the world.”

And as I drifted off to sleep in her arms, I couldn’t help but think that maybe I already had it.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @starlighttsv , @authentic-girl03 , @sevyscoven .... (more to be added)

[acciofictionalmen]

fallout in the snowfall ❆ part 1

james potter x female!reader

summary: when james kisses you on an adrenaline high, your friendship is in shambles as the true meaning of "just friends" becomes irreparably warped. you both desperately try to restore the platonic bond that you once shared, but at what cost...

warnings: strong language, sexual references

word count: 2.9k

series masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Music drowned out your senses, the beat thrumming through your body as intensely as the pounding of your heart. Hoarse from screaming, your throat tickled as you laughed with your friends, revelling in Gryffindor's success from the day's Quidditch match against Slytherin.

Lights flashed across the Gryffindor Common Room as the Fat Lady's portrait swung open, people whooping as James was carried inside, basking in the attention like a cat- like a lion in the sunlight. Everyone began chanting his name, you joining in with a laugh as he was hauled even higher on Sirius' shoulders, people reaching over to smack him on the back as he swayed precariously. His tousled hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat, cheeks flaming red from the thrill, glasses cracked in one lens and his eyes... they burnt with the aftermath of success, glowing with that glimmer only a decisive victory could bring. His eyes scanned the room as he craned his neck, looking, searching; until his gaze landed on yours.

Something seemed to crackle in the air between you, the intensity of his fiery eyes pulling your body forwards, as though you needed to be near him. The chatter of your friends slowly faded into the background as you paused, biting your lip uncertainly.

James, on the other hand, wasn't one to hesitate. Not when he had been younger - when if he had wanted something he took it without a second thought - and certainly not now. James had enjoyed the perks of a privileged upbringing, and there were certain aspects he wasn't ready to relinquish yet.

Tapping Sirius firmly on the shoulder, his best friend loosened his hold and James jumped down. His eyes never left yours. He strode forwards, pushing past people as they cheered and tried to clap him on the back, his expression glazed with determination. No-one was going to get in the way of what he wanted.

Everything seemed to slow as James reached you. The music died in your ears, the loud cheering gradually fading. Your mind was a whirlpool of emotions, unsure where this was going, but also ready. James' chest heaved with adrenaline as he neared, closing the already small distance between you. His eyes flashed dangerously as his tongue darted out to wet his pink lips. You looked up at him, doe eyes wide, yet simmering with longing that had been repressed for far too long.

James considered your uncertain expression as his hand dragged up and down your shoulder in what was supposed to be a reassuring manner. As your best friend, James had always been touchy, but this was different.

It drove you crazy.

"A few kisses won't ruin our friendship, love."

Looking up at him through your lashes, you smiled slyly; his need for you in that moment so palpable that your skin flushed beneath his gaze.

The look he was giving you. Of exasperation, of longing, of want. You knew your face mirrored his.

James grunted with the force of his lips colliding with yours. His hands flew to your waist as you met in a flurry of passion and lust and want as one of his hands snaked up your side and tugged at your hair, eliciting a gasp- he stole it away with another kiss, then another, and another. The music flooding your ears once more combined with the vibrant lights hot on your skin and James' lips on yours surged the intensity of the moment to new heights. Heights that you teetered precariously on, feeling free and unreachable but capable of crashing at any moment.

He broke away for a split second as you both gasped for air, eyes frantically searching the others, as though you needed confirmation that this was happening, before pulling you back into him as though your lips on his could offer more relief than oxygen ever could. You were his lifeline and right now, James felt more alive than he could ever recall.

The night blended together in a haze of drinks, lights, laughter and more stolen kisses, the memory simultaneously so clear yet vague that you could only be left to ponder (and regret) everything that had occurred the following morning, as you trailed down to the common room from the girl's dormitories, massaging your forehead in a futile attempt to relieve your hangover. You hadn't expected to find James, who apparently hadn't even managed to make it to bed, asleep on the crimson sofa.

The creaking of the stairs as you crept forwards caused him to stir in his sleep, sitting up groggily once he noticed you.

He blinked a few times, forcing the sleep away, and stood up suddenly.

Groaning, he sat back down.

"Hungover hit yet?" You smirked, sitting down next to him.

James' black hair was the messiest you'd seen in a while and his glasses still flaunted a thin crack.

Leaning over him you raised your wand, muttering 'Oculus Reparo' as the crack sealed itself.

His eyes stayed shamelessly on your lips the entire time. You hesitated, not instantly moving away.

It was the signal James had been waiting for. Before you could speak his hands snaked around your waist.

His fingers lifted your chin, his eyes half-lidded as he murmured, "One more won’t hurt." His lips brushed against your lips as he murmured against you, “Right?”

You nodded, breathless as he swept hair away from your face.             

So, he had remembered last night.

He leaned in, grazing his lips against yours again as though he was testing his own self-restraint, playing a dangerous game as he tested both of your boundaries. They didn't hold.

Within moments, James had lifted you onto his lap, kissing you with as much urgency as he had only a few hours ago. You returned the action, your hands tangling into his hair, determined to make the most of this kiss if it would be your last. James' hands brushed up and down your sides, sending sparks surging through your body.

You pulled away, eyes still closed as his forehead pressed against yours, "What is this, James, what was last night?" You breathed, scared to shatter the moment you hadn’t realised you’d wanted so desperately.

He groaned at the absence of your lips as his hands circled your lower back, "Friends kiss, love."

His eyes glinted with that familiar confidence beneath his glasses and you were unable to look away, that brief glimmer only enticing you more. His voice was rough as he spoke slowly, "Would you like me to stop, my best friend? My bestest girl?"

Your hands tightened in his hair at the pet name. His words should have thrown you off. They should have. But you had unknowingly craved this for so long, and this... maybe it worked. You could satisfy the part of you that craved him without the threat of losing your friendship.

"Don't stop."

The words triggered something in him, and James leant in.

──── ୨୧ ────

The kisses didn't stop.

Whenever you sat down with him at breakfast James greeted you with a kiss on the cheek, his hand lingering on your thigh throughout the meal.

He'd steal kisses from you after class, people conveniently crowded outside as he’d pull away, a smirk gracing those intoxicating lips.

Every time he kissed you sent shivers through your body- the feeling addictive. But soon, you began waiting for something. Waiting for the moment he'd pull away, his eyes searching yours, and ask for something more.

It hadn't taken long for the others to notice, but any ideas of the two of you together were quickly quenched by James' assertions that the two of you were the closest of friends- and nothing more.

He'd kiss you after quidditch practice when Gideon Prewett was getting on his nerves. Because he needed it, he always claimed. Because a kiss from his best friend was what he needed after he'd worked so hard and had to deal with irritating team mates. You were more than happy to oblige.

He'd kiss you when you'd hang out with the group, pulling you onto his lap when you all sat together by the black lake, laughing at the group’s jokes. This carried on for so long that it became integrated into your normal routine, the others long beyond questioning anymore.

But after the initial two weeks, it didn't feel right. It felt stagnant, and you began wondering if you’d be forever trapped between friendship and something more. By the third week, you felt empty.

You recounted this to Mary MacDonald, one of your closest friends. She listened patiently as you spilled every detail on the floor of the girl's dormitory, your legs crossed as the words tumbled out of your mouth.

She placed a hand on your wrist, causing your rambling to skid to a halt.

"How do you actually feel about all this, (Y/n)?" She questioned, waving her freshly painted pink nails through the air, trying to dry them before she did yours.

"I-" you frowned, absentmindedly brushing your fingertips over your lips. The ghost of James' lips temporarily invaded your thoughts, "I love it when he kisses me."

Mary's eyes glimmered with something you couldn't recognise, but she kept quiet, prompting you to continue.

"But it's not enough. It's not enough," the words began to pour out, and you couldn't stop them, "I almost feel greedy- I want more. When he kissed me for the first time something changed and I- I don’t know. I guess I thought things would be different. That they would’ve developed by now.”

Mary sat patiently, admiring her freshly painted nails as she gave you space to sort through your thoughts.

“I love his kisses, but all they do is remind me that they're not enough." You paused, Mary's brows furrowed as she watched you, "I want more." You whispered, your voice quiet, barely audible. The words merged with the comfortable silence between the two of you as she mulled over your confession.

Mary wasn't one to offer a meaningless response, and that was something you adored her for- she genuinely cared. Still pondering, she gently placed your left hand on her knee as she began to paint your nails in the pretty wine-red colour you'd selected earlier.

It was once she reached your ring finger that she finally spoke, "You deserve more, (Y/n), and I'll be damned if that makes you greedy."

She paused again, eyes crinkling as she focused on wiping some stray polish from your finger.

"It’s human to crave a proper relationship- not whatever James is doing. I don't think he's quite realised it, but he's taking advantage of you, (Y/n). He's giving you the bare minimum."

Her blunt words snapped your eyes up from your nails, your left hand done as you replaced it with your right.

"I don't want to stop being friends with him." You said, hesitantly.

"And you won't," Mary's eyes lit up, "All I'm saying is if that jerk wants to kiss you, he has to work for it." She insulted James with that level of affection shared by old friends, but there was an edge to her voice.

You laughed, but her words resonated within you, particularly with your level of self-respect. Entirely consumed by this change in dynamic with James, you’d unintentionally disregarded your dignity in the process. Allowed him to assume you'd always be there, lips puckered and eyes closed.

You shivered at the thought. The revelation sent a wave of bitterness through your body. You weren't angry at James, no, more so at yourself for putting up with this for so long.

Mary smirked, recognising the resolution in your eyes as she finally set down the nail varnish, screwing the lid on, "It’s about time James Potter had to actually work for something."

You held back a snort, eyes crinkled with amusement.

"Thank you, Mare." You gestured to your nails, but she caught the double meaning.

"Anything for my best friend." She stood quickly, cursing as she almost smudged one of her nails, "Dinner?"

Within minutes you’d entered the hall, arms linked with Mary’s as you marvelled at the newly put up Christmas decorations. Just over a month away from Christmas, they glowed brightly; snowflakes swirled down from the enchanted ceiling, fading into nothing before they could touch the people sat beneath. Wreaths hung above every fireplace, which crackled comfortingly... and the tree. At the opposite end of the hall stood the massive fir tree, one you could've sworn got bigger each year. Baubles shimmered against the glow of the candles, the tinsel and angel hair that had been carefully draped over the branches made it look as though the tree had been dunked in pure starlight. Magic never ceased to amaze you; there really was a charm for everything.

As you scoured the Gryffindor table in search of your friends, Lily happened to look up at the same time and waved you over. Your breath hitched, noticing there was a seat either next to her or next to James. Mary gave you a pointed look as she slid down into the seat next to the latter, leaving you to join Lily- opposite him instead. James immediately looked up as Mary sat down, his brow crinkling slightly as he turned to you. It was no secret he’d saved that seat for you, and an uncomfortable moment passed before the others resumed their conversation.

Having just returned from practice, James was dressed in mud-splattered quidditch gear, the word gryffindor stretched across his broad chest. His hair was that familiar mess, and you mused whether you could run your fingers through it without them getting stuck. He downed his full glass of pumpkin juice in one, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your fingers drummed steadily on your thigh as you slipped in and out of Sirius’ story, laughing occasionally, but unable to dedicate your focus when James was sat directly opposite.

Only your eyes were on Sirius as he wildly gestured with his hands, recounting the tale; your mind wasn’t on his words. James’ leg brushed yours under the table, a bid for your attention. You didn’t react, dragging your attention back to Sirius instead and joining in to laugh at something else he’d said. What exact you were laughing about, you weren’t sure.

It felt wrong, almost unnatural, not to be touching James in some way. In just three weeks your body had gotten so accustomed to his lingering touches, his sly brushes against your thighs, that you felt unsettled by the lack of them. You noticed James flexing his large hands, as though he too didn’t know what to do with them if they weren’t on you.

You exhaled with relief when the food came, snapping you out of your thoughts yet again- a welcome distraction. As you began to fill your plate with steaming piles of food, your eyes fell on Mary’s. She had been engaging with the rest of the group’s antics, but the knowing look in her eyes told you she’d been observing the both of you the whole time.

She gave you a smirk, flexing her right hand dramatically, just as James had done. You snorted, your hand instantly flying up to your mouth to stifle your laughter. The tension momentarily evaporated as you realised that nothing escaped your best friend’s notice. The others paused, looking confused, but Mary quickly waved them off after muttering something about an inside joke. You only giggled in response.

After a collection of mouth-watering meals you stood, exhausted and ready to sleep. Mary and Lily also got up, both ready to leave. You didn't kiss James on the cheek as you usually did, instead linking arms with your friends as you left the sparkling hall.

You weren't ignoring James. No- from now on you’d simply treat him as a friend, because in the past few weeks the meaning of the word had gotten so twisted between the two of you. You were determined to restore it, unwilling to settle for kisses that amounted to nothing.

You had had an hour to mull over Mary's words. James' behaviour was intentional- it wasn't as though he hadn't had every opportunity to turn your situation into something more. It was James who had constantly enforced the 'friend' idea the hmost, leading you to assume he wasn't interested in you the way you were him. And that was fine- but you'd show him what a true friend was. Challenge his claim that friendship involved his lips on yours.

James silently stared after you, Sirius snorting, "How've you fucked that one up, man?"

"There's nothing to fuck up." James rolled his shoulders nonchalantly, ignoring how they suddenly felt heavy.

"Sure." Sirius' eyes flashed knowingly, "And Pete didn't fuck up his charms test."

Peter had gotten a T (Troll) on his most recent charms test.

Remus rolled his eyes, shooting Peter an apologetic look as he stood from the table, "Well, I'll leave you all to it."

And so he did, leaving James entangled in thoughts almost as messy as his hair and filled with a desperation to know why you’d seemed so distant. He chalked it down to your having a bad day, certain that tomorrow you wouldn't be able to stay away from him again.

Oh, how wrong he was.

A/N

EEK!!!! i can't believe im about to press post.. i've been working on this series idea for a long while... truthfully most of my ideas get scrapped after a few weeks but this one really really stuck with me so i'm glad I didn't press delete on the word doc... i'm thinking this'll be about six-ish parts, so bear with me :,) this series will be christmas themed, so expect loads of snow and presents to come!

& if you'd like to be added to the taglist do lmk! i'd be honoured to add you ♡

and please feel free to share your thoughts, opinions, reactions, what you think will happen next... i love reading them allll

series masterlist here ❆

[yuomizuu]

♡ | open arms ── kinich x reader !

synopsis: a bit of kindness can go a long way. at least, that was what the elders in kinich’s clans would often say. though in a land where war with the abyss is at a constant, he finds it difficult to truly believe such a notion. perhaps meeting you simply had the sole purpose of erasing those doubts that shrouded his mind.

additional: w.c 899 ⸝⸝⸝ content includes . . .gn reader, implied friends to lovers, character study www

( 💌 ) yuomi’s note: slowly but surely reverting back to my musical kid phase ty mr. jorge for creating epic and what better way to commend that than doing some kinich brainrot ^w^

natlan — a nation of eternal oaths and converging fires. where the sacred flame burns brighter with each chant of the epic hymn that echoes from land to sea, bringing back valiant warriors, now deemed heroes, anew.

yet beyond those blazing flames of ardent also lies a resplendent nation full of color and life. made up of magnificent gorges and valleys that stretch as far as the eye can see, vibrant fields where the saurians roam free, and rejuvenating springs that ease the weary, you'll find a unique beauty reflected within it all.

for most of his life, kinich had often found it difficult to view his homeland through the lens of the latter. since a young age, misfortune has always seemed to follow him wherever he goes, like a relentless beast chasing down its prey that's slowly becoming more and more exhausted. where no matter how far he soars, the shackles of a brutal reality always drag him back down. eventually, such experiences would sometimes render the lone saurian hunter an austere individual, whether intended or not. in his eyes, the world was but a tapestry of unbridled battles.

it was only after meeting you that, slowly but surely, kinich would gradually learn to appreciate the more charming aspects of life and even gain a sense of tenderness towards it. however, that still doesn't cause him to lower his guard completely.

"kinich, you're doing it again," you mused, the lush grass below softening your footsteps as you and your companion tread through the forest. the occasional murmur of wild animals hidden within the trees or nestled away in burrows echoes throughout.

hearing this, the male ahead of you briefly stops in his tracks to glance back at you with a puzzled look. "doing.. what exactly?"

stopping beside him, you motion at the weapon held in his hand. "gripping onto your sword so tightly that the tips of your knuckles are turning white. i swear… it's like you're expecting us to get ambushed out here any minute."

in response to your sigh though, he simply shrugs. "perhaps we will be."

"kinich, we barely took on this commission not that long ago, and we aren't even at our intended destination yet. i doubt we'll find ourselves walking into trouble so soon."

"better to be prepared for catastrophe before it strikes when you least expect it."

an air of laughter escapes from you then. "catastrophe," you repeat to yourself, head shaking in slight amusement. "we aren't exactly tackling the abyss here you know."

"no, but if we were, your lack of attentiveness would surely lead us to such." in between his pause, you catch sight of the subtle curl of his lips. "not even ajaw would be so heedless, and that certainly says something."

"you little…!"

balling your hand up into a fist, you immediately go to throw a punch on his arm that ultimately does not land when the now chuckling male catches it effortlessly. not that such a punch would've hurt him in the first place, but kinich is all for finding the humor in evading your poor attempts at attacking him. plus, you've managed to land a good punch or two on him before, although he blames ajaw for distracting him during those moments.

before you can pull your hand away from his grasp and unwillingly accept defeat this time, kinich intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand firmly. without saying another word, he turns to continue walking along with you at his side now.

due to your good-natured sense of self, it's often left kinich to be roped up in more conflicts than he'd usually expect: said conflicts are getting you out of trouble.

but even in the face of danger, you never cease to look for the good in others. while many have considered this trait of yours to be a display of naive foolishness, it felt like a breath of fresh air for kinich. while he was also considered to be different from those of his tribe concerning certain viewpoints and beliefs, you were an oddity that transcended beyond his own novel ideals. if you had not been born and raised in natlan, kinich would've surely mistaken you for being an outlander. even you had once jokingly said that perhaps you were actually a child of the anemo god, barbatos, that the wind had accidentally blown too far from home.

because, unlike the fierce fires that dwelt within the spirit of every warrior in natlan, your flame was akin to that of a candle: a gentle yet comforting light that simply wished to share its warmth with the world around them and kinich would do anything to keep that light of yours burning for evermore.

he'll never admit to you aloud, but he secretly thanks the anemo archon every day for sending him a beautiful soul such as yourself. your presence alone was as calming as a gentle breeze, and his love for you a sweet, sweet melody.

"speaking of ajaw, where is the little rascal anyways?" you ask, breaking the silence as you look around to find the creature that has strangely gone quiet.

"i sent him to scout ahead for a bit. he'll be back soon enough."

a soft smile creeps onto your face. you spare the male one more glance before giving his hand a light squeeze.

"of course you did."

[fushiglow]

Gojo cares a lot, actually

Perspective and empathy in Jujutsu Kaisen

Once again, I see accusations that Gojo only cared about people in relation to their strength. I can't believe that 236 and 261 haven't put this idea to bed already, but let's go over it again for the class. Here are some thoughts on the importance of perspective and empathy in JJK. Spoilers for chapter 266 ahead!

In 236, Gojo tells Geto he loves everyone. This single line, direct from the man's mouth, should be enough. However, moments later, Nanami says, "You never cared about protecting people". So why do some readers only take one of these perspectives at face value?

Perspective matters in JJK. Often, characters and even the narrator state things that are only true from their perspective in a given moment. What you choose to believe says more about you than it does about them — an idea I explored in my analysis of 236.

This is particularly important when it comes to Gojo and Megumi, because the moment they meet is the only (?) scene in the whole of JJK that we get to see from two perspectives.

The second time, the reader understands the emotional weight of it for Gojo — but Megumi doesn't. He's kept in the dark, so of course he thinks about their meeting in different terms.

Once again, whose perspective are we going to take at face value? From Megumi's point of view, he wasn't offered a choice. From Gojo's point of view, he extended to a child the little agency available to him.

Offering a choice is something Gojo does consistently throughout JJK — pick your hell. It's one of the ways he shows care for others that goes unrecognised, so it's ironic that readers and characters alike misinterpret it for a lack of empathy. However, this is no coincidence.

For much of the series, Gege keeps Gojo at a narrative distance from the reader. Most of what we know about Gojo comes from what other characters tell us, and our view of him is therefore coloured by their perspective.

However, while Gojo laments the distance between himself and others, he fails to recognise that he's the one maintaining it — and not because of his strength or his technique. He has admirable goals, but he chooses to work towards them alone.

There are many occasions where characters reach for Gojo, but he refuses to let them past his metaphorical Infinity out of a sense of duty and perhaps misplaced belief that he alone can or should bear this heavy burden.

All of Gojo's actions are about preserving the humanity of others at the expense of his own. That's precisely why he chooses to become the "monster" alone. In this way, Gojo is flawed but he isn't uncaring. Again, it's a matter of perspective.

Gojo sees strength as the solution because it's all he's ever known. However, recognising the strength of others doesn't mean that's all he sees — because Gojo knows that dehumanisation acutely. What's more, 261 also suggests he thinks of "strength" in different terms to others.

When they meet, Gojo tells Megumi not to get left behind. However, he later says he was "left behind" when Geto defected. We know Gojo's physical strength eclipsed Geto's, yet Gojo only refers to himself as "the strongest" alone after Geto dies.

Before that point, there's nothing in the text to suggest that Gojo ever stopped thinking of the pair of them as "the strongest" — as a unit, as a duo. This suggests that strength, for Gojo, is something much more intangible, much more sympathetic, and much more human too.

What do the strongest characters in JJK all have in common? Indomitable will, courage in their convictions, an overwhelming sense of self. Looking at strength through this lens shines a new light on Gojo's goal of raising "strong" allies.

When he forces a third option in Shibuya, Gojo proves that strength doesn't have to come at the expense of compassion. In the later chapters of the Shinjuku Showdown arc, Yuta, Yuji, and the rest of Gojo's allies reinforce that idea ten times over, and I have every belief that Megumi will soon do the same.

To suggest Gojo only saved Megumi for his technique is unfair when he has consistently proven himself committed to protecting the futures of others, even "weak" non-sorcerers who have nothing to offer him. Once again, it's all a matter of perspective.

Gojo's way of caring is still caring, even if it doesn't look familiar to you. His only flaw was closing himself off from others and choosing to care from afar. However, just like Gojo never stopped reaching for Geto after he left, Gojo's allies never stopped reaching for him.

There's a phrase we use to describe looking at things from another perspective: putting yourself in someone else's shoes. I think it's very telling that Gojo's allies have taken that literally — Yuta by stepping into his skin, and Yuji by standing in his place in 266.

TL;DR: Gojo cares a lot, actually. If Gojo talking about his innermost feelings can't make you empathise, and the students he supposedly "doesn't care about" recognising his burdens can't make you empathise?

Well, that says far more about you than it does about him.

Come read my fics about this!

In His Shadow explores the ways Gojo keeps his distance from Megumi, who isn't equipped with the tools he needs to reach him but finds his own ways to show he cares, born from ten years of history together.

Rivers Crossed, Mountains Scaled explores Gojo and Megumi's relationship through the vehicle of SatoSugu — why Gojo took him in, whether Gojo really gave him a choice, how Gojo sees him.

Hope you enjoyed the post! I love you, Gege Akutami ♥️

[riekirei]

fan favorite— nishimura riki

you and riki, the iconic duo, were inseparable. your friendship was so loved in public, but it was something more in private.

pairing: idol!riki x 8th member!fmr | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: they kiss like once, riki teases reader and vice versa

[requested]

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: been insanely inactive but wtv, here’s something i wrote recently. hope u enjoy reading this! likes n reblogs r highly appreciated. not proofread

you step out of the van with the beaming sun rays hitting your face, the smell of the easing ocean breeze, and the sounds of the crashing waves filling the area. you pull your digital camera out of your bag that hung just by your shoulder. you try taking a picture of the bright summer sun that shined that day, but it was way too bright for you to see. you squint your eyes to the sun’s light that nearly blinded you when a hand’s shadow appeared from behind, hovering over your eyes to shield it from the light. it was riki, he had just gotten out of the van after you. “blinding lights, blinding lights~” (blind - enhypen) he sang as he watched you take pictures with the help of his hand preventing the sun from glaring at you. “hey!! since when have you gone down the car?” you asked him, wondering how fast he’d came as you expected him to take longer. 

you were at a beach for your new album’s concept photos, just like dimension dilemma (i guess it’s associated with the group’s storyline) and the makeup artists and stylists had just fixed your hair and makeup in the van before arriving at the beach. riki was up next to get his hair and makeup done, but he apparently was done? “did they not do your makeup or something?” you added onto your question from earlier. “they didn’t do my hair. probably the style they wanted for this album was something like this” riki replied. “you look good either way sooo” you told him, tucking his dark hair into his ear.

just a moment after, a camera panned towards the place you and riki stood. it was the staff shooting behind the scenes content for them to post on the official youtube channel. you snap out of the conversation you were previously having with riki and face the camera lens that was right in front of you. “hello engene!! today we’re at the beach and we’ll be taking some photos for our upcoming album” you say, making your way through the hot sand, towards the shore. riki follows shortly behind you. the camera films the both of you walking before you come across an area with countless seashells, laid out on the ground. it was quite a rough surface to be walking on so as you stepped on it, you tripped, slightly slipping your body forward. just as you were about to fall, riki’s grabbed your wrist and made sure to carefully support the other side of your torso from hitting the ground. he helped you get on your feet again. “guys y/n’s feeling silly” he says to the camera, laughing at what just happened. “engene, it was ni-ki’s fault, right? he pushed me” (he didn’t hsjahs) you jokingly said. “he pushed me!!!” you added. “nahhh, maybe its just a skill issue to be honest” he told you as you two bickered on camera for the nth time. 

you two found yourselves before the shore, watching the still water reflect the sky as waves came in. you went on your knees to draw doodles and words on the damp white sand. you drew a huge heart with the word ‘engene’ written in the middle. the camera captured the pretty sight before it shifted to what riki was doing. he was standing right where the waves met the shore, the water smoothly gliding on the sand. riki scooped some wet sand, combining it with some drier sand to create a ball. he shaped it with the palms of his hand and set them down to form a pile of multiple sand balls.

“what’s tha-“ you questioned riki before he picked one up and threw one at you. the firm sand ball flew its way towards you, crumbling to pieces as it came into contact with your body. riki bursts out laughing as he sees the mundane look you had on your face. “ha ha, ni-ki. you’re like so funny!” you say sarcastically. you try holding your laughter as you watched riki snicker. he walked back towards the other direction to form more sand balls.

while he wasn’t looking, you bent down over, grabbing a portion of sand that was laid out on the beach. you compressed the grains of sand together to form a sand ball yourself. 

“ni-ki!! look over here!!” you called out, having a plan in mind. just as he turned in your direction, you projected the sand ball right at him, hitting him on his arm. “HEY” riki shouted. 

oh you knew you were done for. like deadass, you were DONE for.

you quickly sprinted away from riki as he chased you across the beach. you stepped into the shallow water, trying to catch a hold of your breath while feeling the cool, relaxing sensation the flowing water had that came in contact with your feet. riki had finally caught up, stepping into the water as well. he wrapped his arms around you, tightly embracing you. “try escaping me now” riki said. “NI-KIII, LET ME GOO!!!” you exclaimed, swinging your body from left to right, attempting to escape him. 

you extended your arm, reaching for riki’s waist. you begun tickling him as you two giggle. he uncontrollably laughed at the tickle he felt. he tries pushing you off of him when you playfully nudge him too, not knowing how strong you had pushed him.

riki fell into the water, getting his outfit wet. “YOU THINK I’M THE ONLY ONE FALLING IN?” he said with a big grin on his face. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down as you made a splash, landing right next to him. you two sat there and died laughing at what had happened. all this bantering was caught on camera for ENGENEs to watch. they adored the bond you and riki had. they’d make edits, compilations, and several posts about ‘y/n-ki’ and the endearing moments you two had.

you got up, slowly running away from riki who still hadn’t gotten up yet. “Y/N HELP ME UP, I CAN’T- Y/N!!” riki yelled. you looked back and tittered at the sight of riki struggling to get up. “hmmmm what about…. no!” you reply. “OKAY SO YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE” he responded in a sulky tone. he crossed his arms and pouted his lips. “OKAY!!! I GUESS-“ riki continued before you ran towards his direction, finally giving in and helping the poor boy up. “I’LL HELP YOU UP, OKAY? RELAX PRINCESS ARIEL” you teased riki. “whatever, bro” he said, jokingly giving you a side eye.

the sun set as you and riki spent time with each other at the beach, along with the other members. the cameras cut and the staff called it a day, allowing you all to relax and clear your heads before getting back onto the ride home. you both walked a distance far enough for no one to be able to catch sight of you two. you and riki sat on the sand, feet buried in it. you rested your head on his shoulder while you two stare into the horizon before you. “it’s almost just as pretty as you” riki said as he let out a chuckle. “really?” you reply, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. “mhm” he said, slightly nodding his head. you smiled and leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. 

the chemistry between the two of you was good, maybe a lil too good. and the fan favorite duo were great friends on and off cam, maybe a lil more than friends too.