#no but actually though. she’s always like ‘you sound like you’re thriving to me!’

[itspileofgoodthings]

i love my counselor because she refuses to pry. don’t even know if she knows that’s an option, I have so rarely met a person who stays so thoroughly in her lane.

[theonottsbxtch]

GIVEN ENOUGH | LN4

an: nessa barrett's new album has been pure inspiration i swear to god, listen to given enough while reading this because LORD, i fully felt bad for this version of lando even though i wrote him

wc: 2.8k

LANDO EXHALED, HIS JAW TIGHTENING as he glanced at her from across the room. She was draped in a crimson dress that clung to her like a second skin, every inch of her perfect for the cameras that flashed relentlessly. The evening air was heavy with champagne and ego, the kind of event he loathed, but his manager had insisted. "Keep the image alive," they’d said. The golden couple, the picture of perfection. But the truth of it all lingered like poison in his throat.

She caught his gaze and smiled—small, distant, rehearsed. He knew the curve of her lips too well to be fooled. That wasn’t a smile for him. That was for the photographers. For the sponsors. For the endless charade they’d both been roped into.

Lando took a sip of his drink, amber liquid burning his throat. The taste was bitter, but not nearly as bitter as the memory of last night. Or the night before that. The endless cycle of her tears, his apologies, the shouting, the silences. She always cried so beautifully, like it was an art form, and he hated how it disarmed him every time. How it left him apologising for sins he didn’t remember committing.

Haven’t I given enough? The thought tore through him like a cold wind. He clenched the glass tighter, ignoring the laughter that rippled around the room. She always needed more—more attention, more promises, more of him. And he’d given it. Again and again, until he didn’t know what he had left.

And yet, she stood there, radiant and hollow. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to hold her or disappear entirely.

“You’re staring,” her voice came, soft yet sharp, as she stepped beside him. The closeness was suffocating, the scent of her perfume almost too much.

“Am I?” His tone was flat. Detached.

“Yes.” Her smile didn’t waver, even as her words dropped lower, meant only for him. “You should try looking at me like you actually care.”

He laughed, quiet and humourless. “Funny. I was just thinking the same about you.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, a warning, but she didn’t say anything else. She turned back to the crowd, her hand brushing his arm in a way that seemed deliberate, calculated. It was always like this—a performance. For everyone else, they were untouchable. Together. But behind closed doors, there was nothing left to save.

For a brief moment, Lando wondered if she knew how much she’d drained him, how much she’d taken. Probably not. She’d smile, shed a few tears, and take more. Because that was what she did best.

And he’d let her. Every single time.

Lando adjusted his tie, trying to loosen the invisible grip around his throat. The gala was a success, he supposed—if success was measured in hollow conversations and counterfeit smiles. The air hummed with whispers of power, of wealth, of people pretending to matter more than they did. She thrived in it. He endured it.

As she floated away to join another circle of admirers, he downed the rest of his drink. It was always like this: her holding court while he played the silent shadow. To the outside world, they were the perfect pair. To him, it felt like being dragged across broken glass.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration pulling him back to reality. He fished it out, hoping for an excuse to leave, but the screen only held a reminder of tomorrow’s schedule. Another meeting, another event, another night like this.

He sighed, setting the glass down with more force than intended. The sound drew a few glances, but he ignored them. Instead, his eyes found her again, across the room. She was laughing now, the soft, melodic sound he used to adore. Now it only made him tired.

“Rough night?” The voice came from behind him, low and sardonic. Lando turned to see a man, older, sharp-suited, with the kind of smirk that made you want to punch him.

“Just another one,” Lando replied, his tone clipped. He didn’t know this man, didn’t care to.

The man nodded, his gaze sliding to where she stood, radiant under the chandeliers. “She’s something, isn’t she? Always knows how to light up a room.”

Lando didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

The man chuckled, a knowing sound that grated on Lando’s nerves. “But I suppose that’s the thing about women like her. They take everything you’ve got and leave you wondering if it was ever enough.”

Lando’s jaw tightened. The words cut too close, too deep. He turned back to the bar, signalling for another drink. The man didn’t push further, just gave a slight nod before disappearing into the crowd.

When the bartender slid the glass toward him, Lando stared at it for a moment, the amber liquid catching the light. How many of these nights had he survived? How many more could he endure?

“Lando.” Her voice was soft, cutting through the noise.

He turned to see her standing there, her smile as flawless as ever, though her eyes held that familiar edge. The one that always seemed to ask, Are you going to fight me, or are you going to give in?

“We should leave soon,” she said, brushing a hand over her necklace. “People will start to talk if we stay too long.”

He almost laughed at that. People always talked. It was the only constant in their world.

“Right,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He grabbed his jacket, the movement sharp, deliberate.

As they walked toward the exit, arm in arm for the sake of appearances, Lando felt the weight of her against him. To the onlookers, they were untouchable, unstoppable. But he knew better. She wasn’t leaning on him. She was pulling him down, piece by piece.

And no matter how much he gave, it was never enough.

The ride back to the hotel was suffocating in its silence. Lando stared out the window, watching the city blur into streaks of light and shadow. She sat beside him, her fingers scrolling idly on her phone, her face unreadable. They didn’t speak. They rarely did anymore unless it was for show.

When the car finally pulled up to the grand hotel, she stepped out first, the driver opening the door for her as though she were royalty. Lando followed, loosening his tie as they made their way through the lobby.

They looked like a power couple—walking in step, polished and composed. Heads turned as they passed, whispers trailing behind them like a faint echo. It was always the same. People admired what they thought they saw.

When they reached their floor, the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime. She stepped out first, her heels clicking against the marble. Lando followed a step behind, his feet heavier with each stride.

She stopped in front of her door, the number gleaming under the dim hallway lights. “Goodnight, Lando,” she said, her voice smooth, pleasant. Polished for the cameras that weren’t even there.

He nodded, already turning to head to his room further down the hall. But then her voice stopped him.

“Lando.”

He turned back, his hand still on the keycard in his pocket. She stood there, her hand on the doorframe, her head tilted slightly as she studied him.

“You’re in a mood tonight,” she said, her tone light, teasing, but there was something else in her eyes. Something sharp.

“Am I?” he replied flatly, his exhaustion bleeding through.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she took a step toward him, closing the distance between them. Her perfume reached him first, soft and heady, the kind he used to find intoxicating. Now it just felt cloying.

Her hands slid up his chest, her touch feather-light, deliberate. “You don’t have to sulk,” she murmured, her voice dropping lower, almost a purr. “You could come in. Stay with me tonight.”

He stiffened, his eyes searching hers. “I thought you said goodnight.”

She smiled, that perfect curve of her lips that had fooled so many. “I changed my mind.”

Before he could respond, she leaned in, her mouth brushing his. It wasn’t gentle. It never was with her. Her lips moved against his with a hunger that felt practiced, calculated. Her hands slid to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

He didn’t move at first. He didn’t want to. But then her tongue traced his bottom lip, and he gave in—not because he wanted to, but because it was easier. Because blowing off steam with her was less complicated than the alternative. Because if he left her standing in that hallway and found someone else, people would notice. They’d talk. They always did.

His hands found her waist, gripping tighter than he intended. She moaned softly against his lips, her body pressing into his as if she could melt into him entirely. It was almost enough to make him forget the hollowness behind it all.

Almost.

He broke the kiss first, his breath uneven. She leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, her lips slightly swollen, her expression unreadable.

“Come on,” she whispered, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “No one has to know.”

The irony of her words wasn’t lost on him. No one has to know. As if they weren’t already a living spectacle. As if their lives weren’t dissected and discussed by strangers every day.

He nodded, wordlessly, and followed her into the room. Because it was easier. Because it was expected. Because it was all he had left to give.

The door shut softly behind them, the click of the lock cutting off the world outside. Her heels echoed against the hardwood floor as she stepped into the room, shedding her wrap and tossing it onto a nearby chair. The suite was immaculate—too pristine, too perfect, just like everything else in their lives.

Lando stood by the door for a moment, watching her. She didn’t glance back, already unfastening the clasp of her necklace and setting it on the dresser. The silence between them was thick, stretching taut like a thread ready to snap.

She turned, her eyes locking onto his. “Well?” she asked, her voice soft but challenging. “Are you just going to stand there?”

He shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were stalling for time. He didn’t know why—he already knew how the night would go.

She closed the distance between them in two strides, her fingers hooking into his shirt and pulling him closer. Her lips found his again, more insistent this time, and he let her. His hands settled on her hips, his grip firm but distant. She pressed her body against his, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the thin fabric of her dress.

“You’re so tense,” she murmured against his lips, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You need to relax.”

He almost laughed at that. Relax. As if he could. As if this—they—weren’t part of the reason he felt like he was drowning. But he didn’t say it. He just let her guide him, her movements fluid and precise, like a dance she’d perfected over time.

Her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, her fingers deftly working them open. She kissed along his jaw, down his neck, her breath warm against his skin. He closed his eyes, trying to will himself to feel something. Desire, anger, anything. But all he felt was the gnawing emptiness that had been with him for months.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes searching his. “You’re quiet tonight.”

“Just tired,” he said, the words coming out flat.

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she didn’t press. Instead, she reached for his hand, guiding him toward the bed. “Come here.”

He followed, his steps heavy, his mind already elsewhere. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trailing up his arms as she pulled him closer. Her lips found his again, her kiss slow, sensual, calculated.

For a moment, he let himself get lost in it. In the warmth of her skin, the softness of her lips, the way her body moved against his. It was easier than thinking, easier than feeling.

But even as he sank into the motions, a voice in the back of his mind whispered the truth: this wasn’t love. This wasn’t even connection. This was survival. For both of them.

Her hands slid lower, tugging at his belt, and he let her. Because if he stopped now—if he pulled away, if he walked out—he didn’t know where he’d go. Or what he’d do.

And so, he stayed. Not because he wanted to, but because it was what was expected. Because it was what he’d been trained to do. Give enough to keep the peace. Enough to make it through the night.

But even as he moved with her, his body going through the motions, his mind drifted. And he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could keep giving before there was nothing left of him at all.

A little while later the room was dark except for the faint glow of the bathroom light spilling into the corner. She’d slipped out of bed without a word, the soft click of the door barely registering in the haze of his thoughts. Lando lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The sheets were tangled around his waist, their warmth suffocating despite the cold air in the suite.

He ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths. His body felt heavy, his mind heavier. The act itself had been mechanical—motions he’d gone through so many times before, with her, with others. It should’ve been release, a momentary reprieve from the weight he carried. But instead, it only added to the weight.

In the bathroom, water ran softly from the tap, and he could hear the faint shuffle of her movements. She was thorough, always. Her routine was perfect, every step deliberate. He imagined her wiping off her makeup, smoothing out the lines that cracked her carefully crafted image. She’d come out in a silk robe, her hair pinned back, her expression serene, as if none of it ever touched her.

But him? He was cracked straight through, and no amount of polishing would make him whole again.

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, exhaling sharply. His mind churned, fragments of thoughts colliding like shards of broken glass. He could end this. He could say the words, let it unravel, walk away. She’d be fine. She always landed on her feet. And him? He’d finally be free.

But what then?

Lando swallowed hard, his hand falling back to the mattress. The truth of it burned in his chest, heavy and bitter: he wouldn’t end it. He couldn’t.

Because this—this mess of a relationship, this performance they lived—was the most stability he’d ever had. It was the closest he’d come to something resembling a home. And even though it was killing him, it was better than the void that waited outside of it.

He clenched his jaw, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers. There were none, of course. Just the same gnawing emptiness that followed him everywhere.

The bathroom door opened, and she stepped out, exactly as he’d imagined: her robe cinched at the waist, her hair swept back, her face bare but flawless. She glanced at him briefly, her expression neutral, then moved to the other side of the bed.

“Goodnight,” she said softly, slipping under the covers.

“Goodnight,” he replied, though the word felt hollow.

He lay there for a moment longer, the silence pressing down on him. Then, with a sigh, he pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“Leaving?” she asked, her voice calm, almost indifferent.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for his shirt on the floor. “I’ve got an early morning.”

She didn’t respond, simply turning onto her side and closing her eyes. It was the same every time. No argument, no questions. Just this unspoken understanding that this was how it worked.

He dressed quickly, buttoning his shirt with practiced efficiency. His tie was a crumpled mess in his hand, but he didn’t bother fixing it. As he grabbed his jacket and shoes, he cast one last glance at her. She looked peaceful, like a portrait in a gallery—beautiful, untouchable, and completely detached.

He stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence out here was colder, emptier, but he welcomed it.

As he walked toward his room, his shoes dangling from his hand, he felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders again. The routine was almost comforting in its predictability. Wake up. Smile for the cameras. Go through the motions. Give enough to keep the world spinning.

Because if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure what would happen.

And that terrified him more than anything else.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow

[sabrinasopposite]

you'll always find a way back home ❀

clark kent x reader (miley stewart summer au)

❀ summary: being a cali-girl has its advantages—surrounded by beaches, parties, and sunshine. Y/N loves her life there, but she forgets that deep down, her roots lie in the opposite: Smallville. Her summer takes an unexpected turn when she returns to Smallville for her summer break and crosses paths once again with her childhood enemy, Clark Kent.

word count: 6,755

There’s always the best of both worlds—one filled with glamour and the other, well, the opposite of it. The same could be said for Malibu and Smallville. Malibu embodied glamorous salt air, the sound of waves, and the endless rush of life. Smallville, on the other hand, was different: cows, meadows, and pure silence—the opposite sides of existence.

For Y/N, the feeling of living in two different worlds wasn’t a big deal. She had left one world behind at the age of seven, spending the next ten years in Malibu. Salt air, endless beaches, and the golden glow of the sun—it was a life she had carved out for herself, a world she had seamlessly become part of. The rush of city life, the hum of vibrant streets, and the pulse of constant motion nourished her soul in ways she could never have imagined as a seven-year-old. The sprawling metropolis of Malibu felt like a living, thriving entity at the edge of the world.

Before Malibu, there was only Smallville. The life she had known as a child was painted in shades of green—vast, open fields stretching endlessly in every direction. The land was quiet, so silent it could almost swallow her whole. Days were spent wandering dusty roads on horseback, the sun scorching the back of her neck, while the sound of crickets and rustling corn served as her only soundtrack. It was a life where the horizon never seemed to change, and the sense of being trapped within the narrow confines of the small town’s heartbeat was ever-present. A world of barns, hand-me-down denim, and the thick scent of earth—the very soil seemed to anchor her in place, a constant reminder of who she once was.

Then came the transformation. She shed the weight of Smallville like an old, weathered coat and replaced it with the sleek, gleaming allure of Malibu. Gone were the cowboy boots—now she walked in strappy sandals. The scent of hay gave way to the salty tang of the ocean breeze. Her hands, once calloused from farmwork, now held delicate silk fabrics and the soft sheen of designer handbags. Dusty roads became wide, pristine boulevards, and the simple country air was replaced by the intoxicating aroma of city life.

And she liked it.

Hell, she loved it.

She loved being a city girl, a Cali girl.

She had long forgotten the quiet winds that swept through Smallville’s open fields, the scent of grass and earth underfoot, and the cool embrace of the night sky.

Yet, as summer break loomed, she envisioned herself spending it with friends at the beach or going to parties. But plans took an unexpected twist, like a tornado without warning. Her father, Robbie, appeared with his ever-stubborn insistence. He informed Y/N and her brother, Jackson, that they were heading back to Smallville for a celebration—Martha Kent’s birthday.

Martha, Robbie’s childhood friend and the ever-kind, patient woman, had invited them to join the Kents for the occasion. Y/N wasn’t thrilled. Her original summer plans had promised excitement, filled with the laughter of friends and the sparkle of club lights—the kind of plans Malibu always encouraged. Smallville, though? It felt like a relic of the past, a place where time stood still.

“I don’t want to go,” Y/N protested, her voice sharp with frustration as she flopped back onto the couch. “I had plans. I was going to hang out with my friends, hit the clubs, you know, actually have fun.”

Robbie raised an eyebrow. “This is important, Y/N. You haven’t seen Martha in years. She’s been asking about you. You’re going, and that’s final.”

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You’re really going to make me spend my break in a field with cows and tractors?”

Her brother, Jackson—the ever-peacemaker and, somehow, the most annoying brother—glanced over with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun. Like old times. You can hang out with me, catch up with everyone, and maybe the fresh air will do you some good.”

Y/N groaned, slumping into the cushions. “I don’t need fresh air. I need a beach, not cornfields.”

But her father wasn’t listening to her complaints. “Pack your bags. We’re leaving in an hour.”

The truck rumbled along the familiar winding roads of Smallville, the scent of dust and fresh air filling the cab. Y/N leaned against the window, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the condensation. Outside, fields stretched endlessly in all directions, dotted with grazing cows and the occasional weathered barn. The sight should have been nostalgic, but to Y/N, it only deepened her annoyance.  

It had been years since she’d been here, yet the quiet of the countryside felt almost suffocating. The stillness pressed against her like a heavy blanket, the kind that made it hard to breathe. Smallville seemed frozen in time—its unchanging landscapes a stark contrast to the vibrant motion of Malibu.  

She glanced over at Jackson, who was scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat, annoyingly unbothered by their sudden detour into the past. Robbie sat behind the wheel, humming along to a country station on the radio, clearly in his element. The whole scene made Y/N’s skin itch.  

She sighed, the sound loud enough to get Jackson’s attention. He smirked without looking up from his phone. “You okay there, city girl?”  

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, shifting in her seat. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how irritated she was. But in truth, she wasn’t fine. The weight of Smallville’s simplicity—the fields, the dirt roads, the lack of anything remotely exciting—was already settling over her like a cloud.  

The truck slowed as they passed the familiar white sign welcoming them to Smallville. Y/N’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. The memories she’d worked so hard to bury began clawing their way back to the surface: the laughter of kids on the school playground, the smell of hay bales during harvest, the quiet nights spent staring at the stars because there was nothing else to do.  

She shifted her gaze back to the window, trying to drown out the flood of emotions with the rhythmic crunch of the tires on the gravel road. “Why couldn’t we just send a card?” she grumbled under her breath, earning a chuckle from Robbie.  

“It won’t kill you to be here for a few days,” her father said, his tone equal parts teasing and firm. “Besides, Martha’s been looking forward to seeing you. She’s practically family, Y/N.”  

Y/N rolled her eyes. That was the problem. Smallville wasn’t just a place she’d left behind—it was a version of herself she’d buried, a girl she didn’t want to be anymore. Being back here felt like opening a door she’d slammed shut years ago, and she wasn’t ready to step through it.  

As the truck turned down a familiar dirt road, the Kent farmhouse came into view. It looked exactly as she remembered—whitewashed walls, a wide wraparound porch, and the iconic red barn standing proud against the horizon. Y/N could already picture Martha’s warm smile and open arms, the way she’d welcome them with fresh pie and a hug that felt like it could squeeze the air out of your lungs.  

Her father parked the truck and hopped out, stretching with a contented sigh. “We’re here,” he announced cheerfully.  

Y/N stayed put, gripping the door handle but not opening it. The idea of stepping out and being enveloped in the reality of Smallville made her stomach churn. She wasn’t ready to see the barn, the fields, or the people who would ask her questions she didn’t want to answer. She wasn’t ready to feel like the little girl who used to belong here.  

“Y/N?” Jackson’s voice broke through her thoughts. He was standing outside now, leaning against the truck with a knowing look on his face. “You coming, or are you planning to live in the cab?”  

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pushed the door open and slid out. The warm summer air wrapped around her like a blanket, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was as if Smallville itself was welcoming her home.  

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and trudged toward the house, muttering under her breath, “This is going to be the longest summer of my life.”  

The Kent farmhouse was just as Y/N remembered it, a picture-perfect postcard of rural life. The white picket fence framed the yard, the flowerbeds bursting with color, and the iconic red barn standing tall against the clear blue sky. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of warmth at the sight of it all.

Martha Kent stood on the porch, her apron dusted with flour, waving enthusiastically as the truck pulled to a stop. Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little. Martha’s energy was infectious, and her kind heart had always been a constant source of comfort during Y/N’s early years in Smallville.

“Y/N! Jackson! Oh, it’s so good to see you both!” Martha exclaimed, rushing forward with open arms. Robbie got out of the truck first, grinning as Martha pulled him into a quick hug before moving on to Y/N and Jackson.

Y/N braced herself for the inevitable bone-crushing hug, but when Martha wrapped her arms around her, it wasn’t suffocating—it was warm and reassuring, like stepping into the sunlight after a cloudy day. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” Martha said, pulling back to get a good look at her.

“Thanks, Martha,” Y/N said, her voice softening in spite of her earlier annoyance. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“And Jackson, my goodness, you’ve shot up like a weed!” Martha added, giving him a playful nudge.

Jackson grinned, always happy to be the center of attention. “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Kent.”

“Now, none of this ‘Mrs. Kent’ business. You know you can call me Martha,” she said, ushering them toward the porch.

The house smelled like freshly baked apple pie, with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg lingering in the air. Y/N couldn’t deny that it felt nice—familiar, even. Martha’s home had always been a safe haven, a place filled with warmth and kindness.

As they settled into the living room, Martha brought out a tray of lemonade and cookies, chatting animatedly with Robbie about old times. Jackson joined in, sharing stories of their life in Malibu. Y/N stayed mostly quiet, sipping her lemonade and letting the conversation flow around her. She liked Martha, but being back in Smallville was like stepping into a pair of old shoes that didn’t quite fit anymore.

“Clark’s not here, by the way,” Martha said suddenly, glancing at Y/N with a knowing smile. “He’s somewhere.”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around her glass. Of course, Clark Kent would come up eventually. He was practically Smallville royalty, and Martha couldn’t help but dote on her son.

“That’s… fine,” Y/N said quickly, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Clark Kent was the most annoying boy next door, y/n has ever known. He was always teasing her about her farming skills, or pulled pranks with Jackson on her. Y/N always teased Clark that he couldn’t speak properly to girls, or that he looks like a grandpa. It was always forth and back.

Martha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I seem to remember the two of you didn’t get along very well as kids.”

Jackson snorted. “Didn’t get along? That’s putting it mildly. Clark was always teasing her—pushing her to the hay, hiding her toys, calling her ‘city slicker’ even though she wasn’t from the city back then.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, annoyance was clear on her face. “Yeah, well, he was a terror. I’m surprised he didn’t get himself kicked out of kindergarten.”

Martha laughed, clearly amused. “Oh, he’s grown out of that phase, I promise. He’ll be happy to see you.”

Y/N highly doubted that. The last time she’d seen Clark Kent, they’d been seven years old, and he’d shoved a frog into her lunchbox, resulting in her shrieking so loudly the teacher had to call the principal and Y/N pushed him later as revenge to a lake. The memory still made her cringe.

“Well, let’s hope he’s matured,” Y/N said in a sarcastically tone, setting her glass down on the coffee table.

Martha patted her hand gently. “I’m sure you’ll both get along better now. People change, Y/N.”

“Sure they do,” Y/N replied, though she wasn’t convinced. If Clark Kent was still the same smug, teasing boy she remembered, this summer was about to become a whole lot more complicated.

After the small talk in the living room had run its course, Y/N found herself wandering toward the window, gazing out at the sprawling fields behind the Kent house. Her eyes drifted to the paddock near the barn, and her breath caught when she spotted a familiar figure—Blue Jeans, her old horse.  

The years hadn’t dulled his striking appearance. His glossy black coat gleamed in the sunlight, his white star-shaped marking standing out proudly on his forehead. Her heart squeezed as memories of riding him across the fields rushed back—those carefree days when the world felt vast and full of possibilities.  

“He’s still here,” Y/N murmured, more to herself than anyone else.  

Martha, who had been tidying up, looked over and smiled warmly. “Of course, he is. Robbie couldn’t bear to part with him after you guys left. He’s been here ever since.”  

Y/N couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. Blue Jeans had been her constant companion during her Smallville years, a source of comfort when the quiet got too loud. She suddenly felt a tug of nostalgia and longing that she hadn’t anticipated.  

“I’m going to go see him,” she said abruptly, grabbing her phone and heading toward the door.  

The heat of the sun kissed her skin as she walked across the yard, the scents of hay and earth growing stronger with every step. When she reached the paddock, Blue Jeans was grazing lazily near the fence, his tail swishing against the flies.  

“Hey there, boy,” Y/N called softly, leaning against the wooden fence. Her voice wavered slightly, a mix of excitement and nervousness. “It’s me, Blue Jeans. Remember me?”  

The horse’s ears twitched, and he lifted his head to look at her. His dark eyes, once so full of trust and familiarity, now stared at her with a distant curiosity. Y/N felt a pang of disappointment.  

“It’s been a while, huh?” she said, stepping closer. She reached out a hand, hoping he’d recognize her scent or the sound of her voice. “I’ve missed you, you know.”  

Blue Jeans regarded her for a moment longer before snorting and turning his head away, clearly uninterested.  

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Y/N murmured, slipping through the fence and into the paddock. She approached slowly, her hand outstretched, but as soon as she got close, Blue Jeans startled. His ears pinned back, and before she could react, he bolted across the paddock, his hooves kicking up clouds of dust.  

“Blue Jeans, wait!” Y/N called, her heart sinking as she watched him gallop toward the far side of the field.  

She stood there for a moment, the weight of his reaction pressing down on her. He didn’t remember her. The bond they’d shared—the one she’d thought would last forever—was gone.  

Frustration welled up as she stopped near the edge of the pasture, catching her breath. She hadn’t expected this—her own horse, the one she’d ridden through countless childhood summers, didn’t even know her anymore.

Movement on the far side of the field caught her eye. A rider was approaching swiftly on a sleek black horse, cutting across the open space with practiced ease. They seemed to have noticed Blue Jeans’ runaway gallop and were moving to intercept him.

Y/N squinted, trying to make out the rider. The sunlight glinted off the black horse’s glossy coat as the figure leaned low in the saddle, guiding the animal with effortless precision.

The rider expertly maneuvered their horse, heading off Blue Jeans before he could get any farther. With a firm but gentle pull of the reins, they brought him to a halt. The black horse stood steady, calm in its dominance, while Blue Jeans pawed at the ground, uncertain but no longer running.

Y/N stood frozen, watching the rider stroke Blue Jeans’ neck and murmur something she couldn’t hear. She felt a pang of gratitude mixed with curiosity.

As the rider turned and began leading the two horses back toward the barn, Y/N finally got a better look. The tall figure was dressed in a simple flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. The confidence in his movements stirred something vaguely familiar in her memory, but she couldn’t place it right away.

When the rider dismounted, handing Blue Jeans’ reins to her, Y/N finally got a clear look at his face—and her breath caught. 

Clark Kent.

Of course, that was him.

He looked different—taller, broader, more confident—but the smug little smirk on his face as he approached was unmistakable.

“Lost something?” he called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/N crossed her arms, her jaw tightening as Clark brought both horses to a stop in front of her. Blue Jeans looked calm now, his ears twitching as Clark dismounted and handed her the reins.

“Your horse didn’t seem too thrilled to see you,” Clark said, his tone light but with that teasing edge she remembered all too well.

Y/N snatched the reins from his hand, glaring at him. “He just didn’t recognize me. It’s been a while.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, if that’s what you want to tell yourself.”

She huffed, focusing on stroking Blue Jeans’ neck instead of responding. Clark’s black horse snorted behind him, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how well-trained and strong the animal looked.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide her irritation.

Clark shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I could ask you the same, city girl. Perhaps I was riding but I didn’t think I’d end up saving your horse in the process and I am still waiting for a ,thank you,” His tone sarcastically as ever.

“Thanks,” she muttered begrudgingly, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone annoyingly cheerful.

As Clark mounted his horse again, he glanced back at her with a grin that made her blood boil. “Good to see you again, city girl. Try not to lose him next time.”

With that, he urged his horse into a trot and rode off, leaving Y/N standing there with Blue Jeans and a swirl of emotions she didn’t want to unpack.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, tugging lightly on Blue Jeans’ reins. “Welcome back to Smallville.”

Y/N walked slowly back toward the barn, Blue Jeans obediently following behind her, though he was still skittish from the brief escape. Her thoughts were racing, the familiar, maddening presence of Clark Kent bringing all kinds of feelings she’d hoped were buried. She couldn’t believe it—after all these years, he was still the same teasing, infuriating kid she remembered. Only now, he was taller, more confident, and somehow, even more irritating.

As she reached the barn, she heard the sound of hooves approaching again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate. She glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was Clark, riding his horse back toward her. 

He pulled the reins as he stopped a few feet away, his eyes narrowing with that mischievous glint she remembered so well. 

“So, Malibu, huh?” he said, his tone light and teasing, as if he was trying to provoke her. “I actually didn’t even recognize you earlier. Thought you were some California tourist passing through.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. “You’re not the first person to make that mistake,” she muttered, stroking Blue Jeans’ neck a little more forcefully than necessary. 

Clark chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “No kidding. You look nothing like the girl I used to torment.” His gaze shifted up and down, inspecting her with an expression that felt far too knowing. “You’ve definitely changed. I barely recognized you without the pigtails and the dirt on your face.”

Y/N couldn’t suppress a huff of frustration. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve been really paying attention,” she shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Why would I want to look like that annoying little girl you used to pick on?” 

Clark grinned, clearly enjoying every second of this. “You know, I never understood why you were so touchy about me teasing you. It was all in good fun. You were, what, seven? Not like you’d remember any of it now.” His eyes twinkled as if he was savoring the memory of their childhood rivalry. 

“Trust me,” Y/N replied, her tone sharp, “I remember plenty. And just because I don’t look like that girl anymore doesn’t mean I’m not still the same person.” 

Clark leaned back slightly in the saddle, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. Of course. But it’s hard to see past the whole… Malibu vibe. You’ve got the whole ‘I’m way too cool for Smallville’ thing going on.” His grin widened, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or genuinely poking at something he knew would get under her skin.

Y/N glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not too cool for Smallville,” she said slowly, “but maybe it’s you who can’t see past the small-town life. Maybe it’s you who hasn’t changed.” 

Clark raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by her comment. “I changed. I’m just not *bragging* about it like you are.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the way she stood in front of him, her posture more confident, her clothes undoubtedly a far cry from the ones she’d worn all those years ago. “I mean, Malibu does wonders for a person.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but refused to back down. “I’m not bragging. And for the record, there’s more to me than whatever you think you see from your small-town perspective.” She met his gaze, refusing to let him get the best of her. “You know, I didn’t ask for this visit. I had better plans than standing here in the dust, talking to the same person who made my life miserable when we were kids.”

Clark leaned forward in the saddle, his expression softening slightly. “Hey, I’m just messing with you. I didn’t mean anything by it. But seriously, Malibu… It must be a whole different world from here, huh?” His tone was more genuine now, though still laced with that teasing undercurrent. “I bet it’s *pretty* hard to leave it all behind.”

Y/N hesitated. For a moment, the teasing and the rivalry faded, and she could hear the underlying curiosity in his voice. “Yeah,” she admitted, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “It’s... different. It’s all the things people think it is—beaches, sun, parties. But it’s also lonely. Harder than people realize.” 

Clark’s smile faded, and he gave a small nod, as if he understood more than he was letting on. “I get it. Doesn’t matter how shiny things are. Not every place feels like home.” 

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the change in tone. For a moment, it felt like they weren’t just two childhood enemies standing in the middle of a field—they were two people who, in their own ways, were just trying to make sense of their worlds. 

But before she could say anything more, Clark seemed to snap back to his usual self. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your horse,” he said with a wink. “Just don’t lose him again, okay? I don’t want to have to rescue you next time.”

Y/N scowled. “You’re lucky I’m not punching you right now,” she shot back, but even as she said it, there was an undeniable hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Clark laughed, a light, carefree sound that made Y/N realize how little she actually knew about the boy who had teased her for so long. “I’ll be around, city girl. Don’t go getting too comfortable.”

Y/N watched him go, the sting of their old rivalry still there but somehow not as sharp. Maybe Smallville wasn’t as small as she remembered after all.

Over the next few days, Y/N found herself spending more time with Clark than she’d expected. Every time she tried to avoid him, he seemed to find a way to show up, like some kind of cosmic joke. And despite her best efforts to maintain her distance, she couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward him. It was the kind of pull that only small towns seemed to foster—familiar, unspoken, and inescapable.

It started innocently enough. Martha had insisted that they all help with the chores around the farm, and, of course, Clark had been the first to show up, grinning like a cat that had gotten the cream. 

“Ready to get your hands dirty, city girl?” he’d teased, standing at the entrance of the barn with his sleeves rolled up, looking like he belonged there more than anyone else.

Y/N shot him a glare, arms crossed. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly capable of doing chores, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, clearly not convinced. “I doubt you’ve done a real day’s work in your life,” he shot back, leaning against a barrel of hay. “I mean, Malibu’s great and all, but I don’t think they teach you how to muck out a stall out there.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’d be surprised what I can handle.”

And handle it, she did. After a little grumbling, they worked side by side, shoveling hay, cleaning out the barn, and feeding the animals. At first, it was awkward—Y/N wasn’t used to the rhythm of farm life anymore, and Clark didn’t hesitate to point out every little mistake she made. 

“Oh, you missed a spot,” he’d tease, always with that smirk of his, as he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, city girl.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the truth was, she liked the banter. It reminded her of her childhood, when everything was simpler, when everything had felt like a game. 

“Look, if you think I can’t do this, just wait until I show you how it’s done,” she said, determined to prove him wrong. 

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? I’m waiting.”  

And then, to his surprise, Y/N had grabbed the pitchfork and shoveled with more precision than he had expected. She might not have grown up with the same skills as him, but she knew how to get things done.  

When they finally took a break, Clark leaned against the barn wall, wiping his forehead. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You’re not as bad as I thought. Maybe Malibu’s *not* all you are.”

Y/N smirked, a spark of competition in her eyes. “Told you so.”  

Their time together continued like that—moments of teasing and lighthearted jabs followed by quiet, almost comfortable silences. They’d ride together out in the fields, their horses’ hooves beating a steady rhythm on the dirt. Clark would always make sure to *just barely* stay ahead of her, giving her a playful wink when she caught up. 

“You know, I’ve always been better at this than you,” he would say, his voice a mix of challenge and amusement. “You used to be so slow. Guess Malibu's not doing much for your speed.”

Y/N would roll her eyes. “You really need to stop talking about the past, Kent. I’m faster now. Catch me if you can.”

And then she’d race ahead, her heart pounding in the excitement of the chase. Clark would grin and follow, effortlessly keeping pace with her, never really pushing to overtake her. They were both competitive, in their own ways, but Clark’s subtle teasing always managed to keep her on her toes.

One afternoon, after a long ride, they returned to the barn, both a little winded and flushed from the exertion. Clark tied the horses up, and when he turned to Y/N, he caught her looking at him for a moment longer than she intended. 

“What?” he asked, his grin widening as he noticed the lingering look. 

“Nothing,” Y/N replied quickly, her heart unexpectedly fluttering. “I was just thinking how *different* it is being here. It feels… good, I guess. Like it fits.”

Clark didn’t miss the tone in her voice. “Glad to hear it,” he said quietly, his smile softer now, like he wasn’t just teasing her for once. “You know, Smallville has a way of doing that to people. It’s like it gets under your skin.” 

Y/N swallowed, feeling her heartbeat quicken. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

And then, almost as if to remind her that some things never really changed, Clark stepped closer, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “I’m still way better at riding than you, though,” he said, his voice low with that playful challenge. “I mean, you did need me to catch your horse earlier.”

Y/N huffed, trying to stay unaffected by the closeness. “I don’t remember asking for your help.”

He flashed a grin, his eyes lingering on her face for just a beat too long. “I’ll remind you of that next time I rescue you from your own horse again.”

The air between them shifted, a silent tension hanging in the barn as they stood in the afterglow of their ride, the sound of the horses settling in the background. Y/N felt a knot tighten in her stomach, but before she could respond, Clark seemed to snap back into his usual playful demeanor. 

“Well, I’d better go help my mom with dinner,” he said, a little too casually. “You know, so you don’t think I’m just here to torment you all day.”

“Too late for that,” she retorted, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

And as Clark walked away, Y/N found herself watching him longer than she probably should have. It wasn’t just the way he’d changed physically—stronger, taller, more confident. It was the way he seemed to settle back into Smallville with a comfort that felt almost... easy. The way they both fell back into their old rhythm of teasing and rivalry, like time had stood still, despite everything.

But somewhere beneath the playful jabs and the teasing grins, Y/N couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe—just maybe—Clark Kent had grown up in ways she hadn’t expected. And that left her wondering if there was more to the new Clark than the boy who used to torment her so many years ago. 

The next day, after a hearty breakfast at the Kent farm, Clark suggested they go on a ride to a place he thought she might like—a small waterfall hidden away just on the outskirts of town. He’d mentioned it casually, like it was no big deal, but Y/N could tell there was something about this spot that meant more to him than he was letting on. 

They saddled their horses and set off, the cool morning air whipping past them as they rode side by side through the fields. The peaceful rhythm of the horses' galloping hooves against the dirt seemed to melt away all the tension that had lingered between them the past few days. It was easy, comfortable, in a way Y/N hadn’t expected. There was something about being on horseback, moving through the wide-open space, that made her feel connected to this place again—like she was finding pieces of herself she had forgotten.

Clark led her down a narrow path that wound through trees, and soon the sound of rushing water filled the air. They emerged from the trees and reached the small clearing. There, nestled between moss-covered rocks, was a hidden waterfall, cascading down into a crystal-clear pool below. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows on the water's surface. It was quieter here, the only sound the rush of water and the occasional birdcall.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, momentarily stunned by the beauty of it. “This is... amazing. I never thought a place like this would be hiding right here.”

Clark smiled, clearly proud of the spot. “Told you. It’s one of my favorite places. Not many people know about it.”

He dismounted, tying the horses to a nearby tree, and then looked over at Y/N. “You should come down to the water. It’s the best part.”

Y/N hesitated for just a second, eyeing the small, clear pool at the base of the waterfall. “I don’t know, Clark. It looks kind of... cold.”

Clark grinned. “It’s refreshing. Trust me, you’ll love it. Besides,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you could use a little adventure. Also don’t you have beaches in Malibu?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her own grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, don’t even start with that again.”

But before she could protest any further, Clark was already walking toward the water’s edge, kicking off his boots and rolling up his sleeves. Without warning, he jumped into the sea with a splash, sending water flying in every direction. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him, drenched but clearly enjoying himself. 

Clark poked his head out from the water, eyes sparkling. “Come on, it’s not so bad!”

Y/N shook her head, still laughing at the sight of him. “You’re crazy,” she called, but even as she said it, she found herself grinning. There was something about seeing him so carefree, so unguarded, that made her feel... lighter, like the tension between them from their childhood had completely evaporated. 

After a beat, she hesitated. She hadn’t planned on going into the water, but part of her felt like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it was time to let go of her reservations and enjoy the moment. 

With a resigned sigh, Y/N slowly walked toward the water, kicking off her own boots and rolling up her sleeves. She dipped a toe in, testing the water, and winced at the coolness. 

“See? Not that bad,” Clark teased, grinning like a boy who had just won a victory.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she muttered, but before she could fully make up her mind, Clark swam closer to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Race you to the waterfall,” he said, his voice light with playful challenge.

Without waiting for a response, he splashed through the water, making his way toward the base of the waterfall. 

Y/N’s competitive spirit flared up instantly. “You’re on!” she shouted, charging after him.

The water was cold, but the rush of the challenge and the sight of Clark splashing ahead of her made her forget the chill. She pushed forward, splashing water everywhere, and as she caught up to him, she could hear him laughing. The sound was carefree, filled with the kind of joy that she hadn’t heard from him in years. It made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t quite prepared for.

Clark reached the waterfall first, turning back to look at her. “I knew you were slow.”

Y/N shot him a mock glare. “Not funny.”

But before she could protest further, Clark lunged toward her and, with a quick move, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the deeper part of the sea. Y/N yelped in surprise, but her protest was cut short as she found herself falling into the cool water, completely submerged for a moment.

She came up sputtering, her hair plastered to her face. “You jerk!”

Clark was already laughing, his eyes full of playful amusement. “Couldn’t resist,” he teased. “You’ve got to admit, it’s fun.”

Y/N wiped the water from her face, but as she looked up at him, something shifted between them. The teasing glint in Clark’s eyes softened for a moment, and for a beat, there was something in his gaze that made her heart skip. 

He reached out, pushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin for just a second longer than necessary. “You know, I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice quieter now, the teasing gone, replaced by something more genuine.

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Missed what?”

He smiled softly, his eyes locking with hers. “To tease you the whole time?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a chuckle, shaking her head. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Clark chuckled, tilting his head as he moved a bit closer. “What exactly do you want me to say, then?”

Y/N found herself looking into his eyes for a moment longer than usual, her breath catching. There was something about his tone, something flirtatious but also not, and it made her feel... strangely open to the moment.

She let out a soft breath, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “Like that you missed me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clark’s gaze softened, a hint of something more real flashing across his expression. For a moment, the world seemed to slow down around them. The teasing was gone, replaced by an unspoken understanding, something deeper than the playful back-and-forth that had defined their relationship for so long.

Clark hesitated for just a heartbeat, before his smile widened. “I think I can say that,” he said, his voice gentle, but there was still that glimmer of playfulness there. “I missed you, Y/N. Even if you were always a little... annoying.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, a mix of warmth and something else she couldn't quite place. She tilted her head, her voice playful but soft. “You’re still teasing me.”

Clark’s expression shifted, and for the first time since they hang out the whole time, he seemed to be a little more serious. “Maybe I am, but it’s because I... I don’t know, I like seeing you smile. You don’t even know how much I missed you.”

Y/N’s breath caught again. She hadn’t realized how much she’d longed for something genuine from him, something that didn’t involve teasing or childish rivalries.

She reached up, brushing her fingers lightly against his arm, before letting them fall back to her side. “Well,” she said, her voice softening, “I missed you too, Clark. In my own way.”

Clark didn’t say anything for a moment, as if letting the weight of her words sink in. Then, without warning, he gave her a crooked grin, his tone returning to that teasing edge she was so familiar with. “So, does that mean you’ll forgive me for all the cowboy or malibu jokes?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but this time, the smile on her lips was different—gentler, warmer. “Maybe. But only if you promise not to throw me into the water again.”

Clark laughed, the sound light and easy. “Deal. But just so you know, it was totally worth it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. The moment had shifted from playful banter to something much more. Something real.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to let go of this new side of Clark—this side that made her feel seen, not just as the girl from Malibu, but as someone who could still be a part of Smallville, in her own way.

Maybe it was true, that you’ll always find a way back home.

❀taglist: @blackynsupremacy @alelo23 @collywobblvs @tvdelrey @angelsgalore @tinainaction

[7s3ven]

UNDER THE MASK pt 1 - collecting samples. recoms (avatar)

IN WHICH… the marine recoms find out the scientist they’ve been teasing for about a month now has more to offer than they thought.

Notes: scientist! recom! reader, a little suggestive, indecent jokes from the recoms (just a bunch of flirtatious, inappropriate jokes from the recoms tbh)

( includes fike, mansk, quaritch, brown, and lyle )

series list

—

You didn’t asked to be revived in the form of a Na’vi body. You thought the RDA was only taking a precaution when they asked you to consent to the program. You didn’t expect to actually wake up after your death in an entirely new body.

You were one of the only scientists brought back from the dead; there were seven of you in total. The rest were military soldiers.

You didn’t remember much about your old life. Though, it wasn’t really yours to begin with. You just had the memories of a woman.

Your sole purpose on Pandora remained largely the same after your revival. You continued to dedicate your life to science and medicine as the faint memories of your old life swirled around in your mind.

You were the first recombinant to be brought back. The RDA thought it was best to revive the scientists before the soldiers. They were right. You were much calmer than they expected, fascinated by your new blue skin and swishing tail. A year later, the soldiers were revived.

You were expecting to remain uninteresting to them. After all, they never paid you much attention when you were human. But you had Grace to blame for that. She always swiftly hid you when Colonel Miles Quaritch and his team walked by, knowing the Marines had a taste for women who looked and acted like you.

Unfortunately, as one of the only females in the operation, the soldiers noticed you a lot more. Ja and Prager only sent you lazy smiles as you passed, fully intent on letting you do your thing, but five other military recoms were a nuisance to your daily life.

The annoying military Recombinants—Quaritch, Lyle, Mansk, Fike, and Brown—were a rough bunch, the kind of men who thrived in the presence of violence. You were the complete opposite of them, preferring the quiet lab and rarely ever talking back. The difference between you and them couldn’t have been more obvious, and boy, did they love to remind you.

You were no stranger to wandering glances. You noticed them back when you were human. Yet, you still felt uncomfortable when the Marine recoms stared at you.

Every time you passed by their little group, they turned silently, their gazes watching your every move. Today was no different from that. You clutched the data pad in your left hand as you strolled through the base, on your way to the science lab once again. You noticed the dreaded group almost immediately; they were laughing pretty loud after all.

They were all leaning against the wall, exchanging teasing remarks. Mansk was the first to spot you. He whispered to his teammates and the mood suddenly shifted. Your ears pinned against your head in annoyance as you passed them, feeling their eyes burning into you.

They said nothing for the first second before Lyle opened his mouth. “Hey, Doc!” He loudly called out. You paused, glancing over your shoulder. You knew if you ignored them, they’d just follow you and you’d get no work done. “Looking good in that body. How about you come check on me later? I might need a… personal examination.” You didn’t have to look to know he had a snarky grin on his lips.

Quaritch deeply chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. Not necessarily good ones, though. “Careful, Wainfleet. She might take you up on that offer if she didn’t have her hands full.” His eyes roamed your body, not even trying to hide it. You felt your face heat up.

Your tail swished from side to side in frustration, which only encouraged them. You began walking again, merely rolling your eyes at the remarks. However, Mansk didn’t let you go so easily.

“Don’t be coy, Doc. You’re practically part of the team now. Why don’t you join us for some drinks?” He pushed himself off the wall and stepped in front of you, blocking your way.

“You’ve got us all wondering what you’re hiding under that lab coat.” Brown chimed in with a smirk. You lightly huffed, casually stepping around Mansk.

You wouldn’t usually reply to their biting comments but you were on your last nerve today. “I’m here to do a job.” You said, “And so are you. If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate if you stopped annoying me.”

You tried to walk off but a firm tug held you back from important work. “Feisty today, aren’t we?” It was Quaritch. You pulled your arm back, lips curving into an unimpressed frown.

“I am not here for your blatant entertainment, Colonel. I’m here to get my research done.”

Despite your sharp tone, Fike still muttered something to Mansk that had them both snickering. You clenched your jaw.

Quaritch’s grin widened at your words. “You definitely find a way to keep things interesting, Doc. If you ever need a break from all that chatter in your brain, we’ll be happy to relieve some stress.” His voice dipped into a suggestive tone, and you knew what he was implying.

You took a deep breath, barely holding onto the last of your calmness. “I have work to do, Colonel.” You briskly walked away, the sound of your boots growing fainter as you shoved past the laboratory doors.

You sat at your desk for a minute, calming yourself from the annoyance bubbling up. No matter how hard you tried to stay focused on this godforsaken planet, the weight of the soldiers’ gazes and their various taunts still drew a reaction.

You knew you’d be seeing them much sooner than you liked. You were due to collect some samples and you needed someone to keep guard. Though, the RDA gave you five idiots to keep watch instead.

An hour after your run-in with the particular group of soldiers, you were forced to see them again. You trudged through the base, trying to delay the process. You saw them waiting outside, tapping their boots against the floor impatiently. They were expecting to see another scientist, a less amusing one, but when you swung the door open, they grinned.

“Let’s get this over and done with.” You muttered, pushing past them.

You hated Pandora but you could never hate the beauty of it. Sometimes you wished you had been born Na’vi so you could appreciate everything the dangerous world had to offer.

The jungle was alive with sounds and the chittering of animals as you moved carefully through the vegetation, ducking occasionally to avoid a tree branch. You stopped every five minutes to take a sample, labelling it and storing it away before continuing on your way.

You knew you weren’t alone, you had five military recoms trailing after you, and that made everything less beautiful. Their forms moved heavily through the foliage, not really caring where they stepped. The group was meant to keep you safe but they only felt like a distraction.

You were observing a particularly interesting plant before you heard the rather obnoxious voice of the Colonel. “What’s the matter, Doc? We got you all hot and bothered?”

Your ears flicked at the unnecessary remark. “Only doing my job, Colonel.” You muttered, careful not to show any emotion Quaritch would use against you.

“That all you’re doing?” Lyle piped up, the grin evident in his voice. “You should be focusing on something else. Like us.”

Oh, how you wished to throw a rock at him or shove a handful of dirt into his mouth.

You heard Mansk snicker as you straightened up, walking further into the forest without another world. You had no intent of taking part in their banter.

“Don’t be so cold, Doc.” Fike called after you as they followed close behind. “We’re just tryna keep you company, can’t have you lonely out here.”

You wished you were alone. Perhaps you should have specifically requested for Z-dog and Walker to accompany you instead.

You slowed down and that was enough for Quaritch to take long strides to stand behind you. His tall frame casted a shadow over you as he fell into unified steps. “Loosen up, Doc. This’d be a lot more fun if you did.” Again, he didn’t try to hide the way his gaze flickered to your chest. He was never subtle in the slightest.

Your grip tightened on your tool kit as your tail flicked him. “For the last time, I’m here to collect data.” You coolly said, “That’s all.”

Quaritch chuckled, “Can’t blame a guy for trying. You’re the only interesting thing out here.”

“Yeah.” Brown, who wasn’t too far behind, voiced. “Watching you work is a nice change from the military crap.” You would have preferred if they were actually doing their jobs instead of focusing on you.

You ignored them to the best of your ability but it was difficult with the group almost circling around you, their remarks growing bolder by the second.

You were scanning a tree when Lyle broke your trance of concentration. He leaned in, "You know, if you ever need a different kind of data… We’re more than happy to volunteer."

You quickly recoiled, a little disgusted at his words. Quaritch placed a hand on your lower back before you could step away. “Easy, Doc.” He uttered, “Wouldn’t want you to trip and fall.”

You held back a scoff. “Can you all just stop?” You said, the frustration seeping into your voice. “I’m trying to collect data here, and you’re all acting like animals.”

They clearly enjoyed your reaction. Mansk steeped forward, “You don’t like our attention, baby?”

You almost succumbed to the urge of throwing a pair of scissors in his face. “I’m collecting samples. If you have nothing scientific to say then leave me alone.”

Quaritch raised his hands in mock surrender yet the smug smirk on his face never faltered. “Alright, we’ll back off.” You doubted that.

The uneasy feeling of their eyes never truly disappeared. You could hear their muffled laughter and murmured comments following you, a reminder that you still weren’t alone.

Barely an hour had passed before the sky darkened. You didn’t think much of it before the first raindrop hit your nose. You tilted your head up, eyes scanning the sky. It only took a second for a heavy downpour to drench you. The droplets of water crashed against the ground with such intensity that it made it hard to see, and it almost hurt.

“Shit.” Quaritch muttered over the booming thunder. “Everyone, under the trees!”

Mansk, the closest recom to you, grabbed you by the shoulder and dragged you under the nearby tree. The canopy offered some form of shelter but still not a lot. It did little to keep you dry.

Your clothes were already soaked, specifically your thin shirt. It uncomfortably clung to your skin. Your straight hair was curling in the humidity, sticking to your face.

Lyle shook his head like a wet dog, his braid sending water flying everywhere. You covered your face to block the droplets. “This rain is something else.” He said, “Never seen such a heavy downpour.”

Mansk was the first to check up on you since the rain. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Doc, you look a little… soaked.” His eyes lingered on your drenched form while you glared at him.

You tugged at your shirt, a fruitless attempt to keep it from sticking to your skin. The fabric was nearly transparent, leaving nothing to the imagination. Mansk’s words had brought you the undivided attention of his teammates.

“This weather is really doing a number on you, Doc.” Quaritch drawled as he leaned against the thick tree trunk.

“It’s only rain, Colonel.” Your response came out sharper than you intended it to. But you knew even if you screamed at him, he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Yeah, but it’s kind of hard not to look.” He chuckled.

Fike, who was standing on your left, smirked as you tried to wring out your shirt. “That’s one way to distract us. Keep it up and we might forget why we’re out here.”

Lyle was the next to comment. “Loving the view, Doc.”

You shot Lyle a look before forming your arms over your chest. “Let’s just focus on staying dry.” You grumbled.

“Don’t worry, Doc. We’re just appreciating the scenery, right boys?” Quarditch’s gaze shamelessly traced every curve that was now exposed by your wet clothes.

You opened your mouth to snap back but the words never rolled off your tongue. Quarditch had reached out to brush a strand of wet hair away from your face. His warm touch lingered for longer than necessary before pulling away.

You impatiently waited for the rain to stop but as the long minutes dragged by, you lost hope. It had been half an hour of a continuous downpour and you were still soaked, forced to shiver as you paced back and forth.

Quaritch and his team had settled at the base of the tree, sitting in a circle and trading jokes. They seemed unconcerned about the delay while you were basically gnawing at your fingertips.

Your tail flicked back and forth as you paced, flicking droplets of water with every step and narrowly avoiding whacking Mansk. The longer you waited, the less time you had to gather data. You were already on a tight schedule.

Quaritch noticed your unease and he parted his lips to speak up. “What’s wrong, Doc? Can’t stay still for two seconds?” He teased. You glowered at him.

“I don’t have time for this, Colonel. I have limited time and this damn rain is wasting it.”

“Relax, sweetheart. You’ll get your samples eventually.” Lyle butted in. You gritted your teeth, the tip of your tail swaying in annoyance.

“That isn’t good enough.” You seethed.

“Pacing isn’t gonna make it any better.” Fike called out.

Quaritch looked up at you, sending you his signature smirk. You despised what he was going to say next. “I’m sure we can find a way to occupy you, Doc. Just to pass the time.” There was nothing innocent about his words.

“I don’t have time for distractions, Colonel.” Every time you tried to push him and his team away, they tried to reel you back in.

Quaritch was clearly amused by you. You turned to watch the rain again, your patience wearing thin.

You waited for another ten minutes. You tried to sit still for as long as you could before you couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck it.” You cussed, grabbing your tool kit. The recoms watched as you stepped out from under the tree without a word, letting the hard rain hit you again.

“Hey, where you going, Doc?” Lyle exclaimed, though his tone sounded more amused than concerned as the soldiers watched you.

You didn’t reply as you stalked forward, determined to collect as much data as you could, even if it meant catching a cold later.

“Guess she’s serious about that data,” Mansk commented with a chuckle.

The recoms watched as you disappeared into the jungle. None of them stopped your stubborn pursuit as you marched through the rain despite the miserable conditions.

“Do you think maybe she’s just crazy?” Fike voiced.

It took you twenty minutes to trudge back to the group. You were drenched and shivering and overall not in very good condition. But at least the last sample rested safely in your kit.

Your shirt was completely see-through by this point. It offered you no protection against the frigid rain. You maintained some of your calm composure despite the chills racking your body.

The soldiers were still lounging under the tree, only raising their heads when they heard the sound of a twig snapping. They all stared at you in amusement as you finally reached them.

Quaritch immediately locked eyes with you. “Look who’s back. You look like you’ve been through hell, Doc.” His eyes scanned the small tears in your shirt.

It surely felt like you had. You were glad the soldiers weren’t there to witness you tripping.

“Shut your trap.” You sneered, dropping the sampling kit before sitting down and slumping against the tree. “I fucking fell down a hill and into a river. Hit a few trees too. Hurt like a bitch.” They had never heard such strong language from you but then again, they didn’t know you had the willpower to walk through the heavy rain.

Lyle whistled lowly, “Damn, Doc, you’re practically giving us a free show over here.”

You didn’t reply. Your ears were pinned back against your head in annoyance as you watched the rain. “Let’s just get out of here.” You grumbled, going to collect your supplies before Quarditch grasped your arm.

“No can do, Doc. The rain ain’t letting up and we can barely see a meter in front of us. We’ll get lost or some of us might fall down a hill. Again.” He grinned, showing off his fangs as he searched your face for a reaction.

“We can’t stay out here for the night.” You fired back. “We’ll get eaten alive.”

“Nah. This area is relatively safe. Good thing we didn’t go too deep into the forest.” Quaritch’s tail lightly flicked, showing he was in no hurry to get back to the base.

You tilted your head back, almost hissing in frustration. You didn’t want to be stuck out in the forest with these military imbeciles. You didn't want to admit it, but Quaritch had a point; you could barely see the next tree over.

Agonising hours dragged by as the rain poured down. The soldiers aimed to entertain themselves, sometimes throwing a few teasing remarks your way. You merely rolled your eyes at their jeers.

"Alright, Lyle, time to pull out the tent. Looks like we're stuck here for the night." You heard Quaritch mutter. To your surprise, you watch as Lyle pulls a tent from his bag. You let the soldiers set it up, knowing you wouldn't be of much help anyway.

"Ladies first, Doc." Quaritch grinned, stepping aside for you to enter. Your tail flicked him in annoyance as you brushed past him. The interior of the tent was large, tall enough to fit your avatar bodies, but it was still a tight squeeze. Your Na'vi body was well-built, your arms toned from the harsh terrain, but the soldiers were almost huge. They were tall with large muscles, taking up almost all the space.

Military gear and supplies were strewn all over the floor of the tent, making it impossible to walk without stepping on something. The heavy droplets of rainwater hammered down onto the tent's fabric, creating a sort of ambience.

Your shirt, which had taken most of the rain, clung to your skin uncomfortably. The cold was beginning to seep through, making it hard to focus. You shifted around, lightly groaning.

With a sigh of exasperation, you had reached a breaking point. You lifted your wet shirt over your head, peeling the thin fabric off. You weren't particularly concerned with how the soldiers' eyes flickered to stare at your bra. You were just glad that awful shirt was off.

As you began to wring the water out of the shirt, Quaritch spoke up. He let out a low whistle before speaking. "Didn't expect this kind of show, Doc." Oh, how insufferable he was.

The tent felt even smaller now with how their gazes lingered on you. You settled into a dry corner of the tent, wrapped in a towel. Your eyes were drooping before Lyle made a biting remark. You quickly grabbed your shirt, throwing it at him. It hit Lyle in the face with a loud slap.

The soldier yelped in surprise and stumbled back. "Watch it!" he exclaimed. His teammates burst into laughter, their amusement evident.

"That's one way to shut him up," Quaritch said through a small laugh.

You eventually dosed off, exhausted and sick of the icy cold. The soldiers stayed awake, their guns at the ready. They lowly murmured amongst themselves, continuing their playful banter.

Lyle nudged Quaritch, a grin spreading across his face. "Look at that, Colonel. The Doc's out like a light." Your tail was lazily draped over your body as you curled up into a ball to retain warmth.

Mansk leaned in, lowering his voice. He didn't want to accidentally wake you and end up being slapped in the face with a shirt like Lyle. "You think she'll be annoyed if we keep making these jokes?"

"Nah, she's out cold." Fike softly chuckled under his breath.

Brown glanced over his shoulder, grinning. "Think she's dreaming 'bout us?" He lightly snorted.

Quaritch raised an eyebrow, his gaze still focused on your still body. "Careful now. If Doc wakes up and hears you say that, she won't be so friendly."

Lyle quietly laughed, "Yeah, you don't wanna get hit in the face with that shirt, trust me."

The quiet atmosphere was interrupted by a shrill cry. It was unsettling, making the soldiers jump in surprise. The sound cut through the night enough to jolt you awake. You blinked dazedly, squinting in the dim light.

"What is that noise?" You groaned, pushing yourself to your feet. Your annoyance was apparent as you moved the tent flaps aside. You stumbled out, the rain hitting you like a sturdy wall. You shielded your face from the heavy downpour, your gaze searching through the storm. You found the culprit—a large bird the size of your long torso rummaging through the scattered gear you had dropped.

"Get out of here!" You yelled, throwing a rock at the strange creature. The bird squawked again before scrambling off, leaving your seething form in the rain.

You re-entered the tent in worse condition than before. The soldiers tried to suppress their amusement as you shook off the water.

Lyle didn't even try to hide his laughs. "You're back at square one, Doc. Might need to take your pants off this time." You ignored him, returning to your previous spot.

"We’ll have to put a bell on you so you don't end up in the rain," Quaritch added, only humiliating you more.

You slumped against the side of the tent, stuck between a state of sleep and awareness. You jumped again when the same screech erupted from outside, testing your patience.

You slowly pushed yourself up once more. The gazes of the soldiers burned into you, clearly amused. The bird had not learned its lesson from the first time, plucking up the courage to scour through your gear once more. You saw how its beady eyes glanced at you, glinting with mischief.

"I've had enough of you!" You exclaimed, "You keep interrupting my sleep! And get away from my stuff!" You launched yourself at the bird, tackling it. Its screams escalated in volume as you swatted at the animal. It tried to avoid your advances, darting and hissing at you.

The soldiers poked their heads out of the tent, wanting to watch the chaos unfold. "Never thought I'd see a scientist take on a wild animal."

"Yeah, get some, Doc!" Lyle shouted, "Beat that thing!"

Fike turned to Quaritch, lightly nudging him. "You think she'll give up any time soon?" He muttered.

The Colonel shook his head, huffing in amusement. "Not a chance."

The bird scampered off, and you turned around, drenched but victorious. You ignored the soldiers' encouraging shouts as they clapped you on the back. You were desperate for rest, even if it meant fighting an animal. Everything began to settle down again, finally, until that bird returned.

"Oh, that is it!" You screamed. Your rage boiled over. "I'm going to cook that thing!" Lyle quickly grasped your shoulder, holding you back.

"Hey, calm down, Doc!" He shouted.

"I've had enough of that bird! I'm hungry! I'm gonna cook it if it doesn't shut up!" You tried to wriggle out of Lyle's grip, ears pinned back in anger and fangs bared.

"Might wanna rethink that, Doc. We ain't in the middle of a kitchen." Quaritch spoke up.

Eventually, you calmed down. You reluctantly sat down beside Mansk in the circle, arms folded over your chest in frustration. "You look cold, angel," Mansk commented, earning a glare from you.

"No, I'm perfectly warm. I might be sweating a little." You sarcastically replied, mockingly fanning your face. Mansk handed you his jacket, but you hesitated before taking it. Slowly, you slipped it on, wrinkling up your nose at the smell of his strong cologne rubbing off on you.

As handy as ever, Lyle pulled out a portable battery heater after noticing your intense shivering. "Forgot I had this." He laughed while Fike and Brown rolled their eyes. The heater softly hummed, and you almost closed your eyes at the much-needed warmth.

The soldiers fell back into their usual conversation, keeping their voices low so as to not disturb you.

"You finally warming up, Doc?" Quaritch glanced at you with a small smile, though it was more of a smirk.

You silently lifted your hand, showing him the middle finger. He chuckled, not offended in the slightest. After an endless night of rain and exhaustion, you finally drifted off. Your head lolled to the side, falling onto Mansk's shoulder while your tail was draped over Lyle's lap.

Mansk glanced down at you with a grin, his eyes trailing over the curve of your tail. He lowly chuckled, "I could get used to this. Not every day you get a warm spot and a cozy tail.”

The other soldiers exchanged glances as they caught the meaning behind Mansk's joke. You slept soundly while the Marines kept watch, their guns nearby. They continued to banter amongst themselves while allowing you to gain the rest you desperately needed.

[grimm-writings]

Can I please request a namari x shy female dwarf reader.

The reader is shy but admirers namari from afar ( especially her muscles😍). And namari likes to make her flustered. caging her against the wall, flexing her muscles.

(THERE ARE NO NAMARI X READERS ANYWHERE 😭😢🥺 SHE NEEDS LOVE TOO!)

sweet thing

…ft! namari x fem! reader

…tags! fluff, headcanon format, reader is a dwarf

…wc! 1150

…notes! namari my darling my dearest!!!!!!!! my biggest flex is that her english va clocked me being extremely normal on main for their performance of her 😶 . twice . 

Is anyone immune to Namari let’s be real here.

She may not have the most stellar reputation because of her father, but that doesn’t stop her from thriving where she can.  Under Mr. Tansu’s employ, she’s been making a better name for herself!

Namari knows what she wants in a partner but she falls apart in actually trying to communicate that.  She can be rather shy herself!

When it comes to you, though, she’s determined to make you see that she’s serious about you.  Your anxiety overwrites her own!

…That doesn’t mean she won’t go to Kiki and Kaka and ask for advice on how to woo you.  She still is pretty shoddy at that.

Honestly, you were mortified when Namari suddenly approached you one day and started talking to you as if you were any other buddy she hung out with.  You hardly speak.

Sure, she’s noticed you staring at her from across the bar, and you tend to be somewhere around the corner when she’s in public, but honestly she couldn’t be mad at it!

How can she, when every time she shoots a big grin at you, you immediately flush red and hide your face from her?!  You’re just adorable!

Namari asking you out is her avoiding eye contact as she tries to ‘casually’ ask you if you want to get some dinner together.  Once you’re out of earshot, she’s pumping her fist and celebrating to herself.  She scored a cutie like you!

“So, see you tonight?” Namari cocks her head to the side as she smiles at you.  Trying to play it cool is tough.  She has no idea how others do it without exploding on the inside. Your smile is enough to make the butterflies in her stomach fly more freely.  “I… yeah, tonight!”  You nod and grin, turning on your heel to walk away. Once you’re a number of steps away, you stop as the sound of whooping and cheering fills the air just when select conversations die down in volume.  Loud and clear, you hear Namari celebrate asking you out. You turn to her, eyes bulging in embarrassment, and Namari mirrors your expression. She tries to brush it off as soon as possible by sending you a thumbs up.  “S-Sorry!  Just real excited!” You can’t help but giggle.  Who knew she’d be such a funny person too.  “As am I!”  You call back before returning on your way with a dumbstruck grin.  “As am I…”

Once you’re officially an item, Namari is a super loving partner!  She has her boundaries – such as no PDA around her employers – but when you’re in private this dwarf is all over you.

She gets over the sheepish, unsure wall she previously found it difficult to pass through the more comfortable she gets around you.

Yep, this woman loves to tease.  She’ll pick up on things she couldn’t before now that she has the knowledge you’re attracted to her.  Oh, you were staring at her so often because you like her muscles?  Aw, how cute?  Wanna touch?

Take all the time you need to stare as she pushes you up against the wall with a grin.

She’s still pretty easy to fluster herself if you know what to do though.

(LEGS.  USE YOUR LEGS, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.)

Her favourite nicknames to use for you are “my girl” and “sweet thing”.  Your hers, and you’re awfully sweet to boot!

Namari opens her arms wide for you as you run into her embrace.  Her hugs are always the tightest, warmest.  If she weren’t so gentle with you she would have noogied you by now. Instead, she instead wraps her arms around your waist and picks you up.  You squeak and cling onto Namari’s shoulders as she swings and twirls you around in a circle and then places you down on your feet again. Your giggles are always so musical to the other dwarf’s ears.  It’s great to be home. “So,” she releases a breath of laughter with you, “how’s my girl been doing while I was away?”

Since dwarves probably grow body hair pretty frequently, Namari and yourself probably take a lot of days to have self care days!

(I am whispering directly in your ear, reader.  Shave your legs in front of her.  Do that and she’ll be sent to another dimension and the higher ground will be yours.)

If you’re too shy to be too personal with her, Namari understands, but that doesn’t mean she won’t try and help you out of your comfort zone with baby steps.  She’s super encouraging that way!

…Though if you’re like me and prefer a woman with some body hair then you better let her know before these self care days!  There’s some motivation for ya.

She’s so endlessly proud of you if you do end up standing up for yourself.

But depending on what you do…

Namari is quite privy to how people tend to talk about her at this point.  Even from across the tavern she can sense the sneering and gossipy whispers of a group in a booth further away. You worriedly glance at the group and then back at Namari.  “Aren’t you going to do anything?” “No point,” Namari sighs with a shrug.  “I’m used to it.” She goes to take another bit of her drink.  You ball your fists together.  She shouldn’t be. Namari stutters in confusion at you when you push the barstool out and hop off, marching over to the group.  She’s so surprised she couldn’t take the chance to stop you. “Do you have anything better to do?”  You ask the group.  They stop to stare at you.  Namari is sure that you’re about to stutter and shy away from the glares you’re being given, but you don’t. One of the people speaks up, “what, like you aren’t hanging around her?  Drinking an’ hardly speaking with anyone else!” “Namari spent all day in the dungeon actually making a living for herself.  She deserves a break.”  You remain steadfast, crossing your arms.  Even if you’re smaller than a lot of other races, you still use your bigger proportions to your advantage.  “And you’re here just day drinking?  I don’t see any spoils, armour or weapons under your table…  Goodness, what might your families say?” You soon return to Namari’s side to leave the assholes to ruminate in guilt.  Your girlfriend’s mouth is in an ‘O’ shape as she keeps her eyes on you.  You glance up at her, your shyness returning.  “W-Was that too much?” “Too much?”  Namari repeats.  “Sweetie, that was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen!” “H-Huh?”  There you go, flushing red again. Namari takes your hands in her own, squeezing them.  “Whaddya know, you ended up being my hero today!” The grin she gives you is the happiest you’ve ever seen her.  She really loves you, you know?

[msmk11]

A Tiny Favor

Katniss Everdeen x gn!reader

WC: 683

CW: Katniss has a panic attack; hurt comfort; fluff

Summary: You try to help Katniss in any way you can, even if it means pretending that you’re the one that needs help. (Could be read as platonic or romantic.)

Day 13 of mk’s mad dash

You thought that when District Thirteen said everyone got recreational time, you’d actually get the rest your body craved. Instead, your afternoon was rather rudely interrupted by loud knocks on the door of your compartment. You were tempted to ignore it, but they remained incessant, and you knew you’d never go back to sleep with all the ruckus. You crawled out of bed and padded across the cold floor before yanking the door open.

“Can I help y- oh, Prim. What is it? What’s wrong?”

The blonde stood before you in her nurse uniform, “It’s Katniss. She’s sort of freaking out and no one can calm her down. We’re trying to wean her off tranquilizers and I thought you might be able to help.”

“Yes, of course, Prim. Just- give me a minute.”

You left the door open and walked back across the room. You slipped on your boring gray gym shoes and then raked your fingers through your sort of messy bedhead.

“Alright, Prim. Let’s go.”

Your walk to the hospital was not an unfamiliar one, having visited Katniss nearly every day since she’d taken residence there. Still, you’d never been personally requested to visit out of visitation hours just to help. It felt good, being useful for once. You had the feeling Coin didn’t like you much, only seeing you as an extra mouth to feed and another of the Mockingjay’s stipulations.

When you arrived in the sterile, white hospital, you instantly found Katniss in her bed, hyperventilating, panicked doctors surrounding her.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, “what a bunch of idiots.”

You stalked over to the staff who were staring worriedly at Katniss, “all of you, scram.”

“We need to supervise her,” some douche doctor huffed cockily.

“You’re only making things worse,” you hissed, “I’ll take care of it. Now leave her alone.”

If your words didn’t convince them, the glare you gave certainly did, and they all skittered off. You rushed to sit at the edge of Katniss’ bed, and watched the girl’s wild eyes flit about and her panicked breathing increase.

You reached out carefully and gripped one of her hands loosely, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Katniss? Hey, Katniss.”

The brunette was still obviously freaking out, but you could tell she heard you somewhere in her anxious haze.

You placed your hands gently on her cheeks, trying to focus her attention on you, “Katniss, love. Can you focus on me? I needed to see you.”

Her glazed eyes shifted into focus, though she continued to pant, “When did you get here?”

“Just now. I came to find you cause I needed your help.”

You stroked some wild strands of hair back from her face, hoping that your touch would calm her a little.

“My-my help? With what? I can’t do anything?” she sighed sadly.

“Well I do have something you can help with. If you’re feeling up to it?”

Katniss’ breaths began to slow a little and she nodded. If you knew nothing else about the girl you’d grown up with, you at least knew that she always thrived the most when she had a purpose.

“Could you braid my hair for me? The way your mom always does. I’m gonna start my work shift soon and my hair always gets in the way,” you huffed with feigned annoyance.

“Yeah, I can do that for you,” she answered quietly, her voice shaking a little.

“Lovely,” you climbed all the way onto Katniss’ bed and took residence on top of the covers, between her spread legs. You crossed your own legs under you and rested your hands in your lap.

Hesitantly, the brunette reached out and buried her fingers in your hair.

“I’m warning you now, this won’t be half as good as when my mom does it.”

“That’s alright,” you answered with a chuckle, “it’s bound to get messed up at work anyways.”

After that, you fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the small swooshes of Katniss’ fingers as she crafted your hair into a beautiful braid. And for once, everything felt simple again.

[aseplant]

what does pain even mean, if you're the only one who remembers?

sayeon & min because the new chapter is fucking pickling my brain alive, but mostly a sayeon character study. chapter 68 spoilers.

✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁

The gym is dark when Sayeon enters. She’s used to this part by now; they’ve established a routine, for these nights they spend training, and turning on the lights is not a part of them. No sense attracting unnecessary attention, after all.

Inside, Min is already stretching, a deep lunge with flexibility that would be the envy of any dancer. He could have been a lot of things if he hadn’t had the misfortune of being born an aberrant. She could’ve been, too.

But there’s no use crying over the things she can’t change.

The door clicks shut behind her. She joins him, quietly. Arm circles, hamstring stretches, a few jumping jacks; she knows the drill by now. Sayeon excels at routines. She has always thrived in environments that pay for hard work.

Today’s focus is sparring again. It has been the entirety of this week; Sayeon supposes her performance against Juni must be embarrassing enough that Min took note. He’s been correcting her on it after the fact, footwork and weight distribution noted and realigned in ways that Juni doesn’t usually pay enough attention to to fix herself. It helps, a lot, but she’s still a long way off from even Iseul, never mind Ryujin. Never mind Min. Beating him in a pure spar is still embarrassingly unthinkable.

Point in case: three broken ribs and a fractured ankle later, Sayeon slumps against the wall, exhausted, as Min calls it for the night. He hasn’t even broken a sweat.

She sighs, taking a long swig of water. She can’t tell how much she’s improved when her only measuring stick is as immovable as a boulder. Not that it matters that much anyway, though. If it’s not results, it’s not worth a damn thing. She should—

“Are you afraid of hurting me?” Min asks, rather abruptly for someone who’s scarcely said a word all evening, except to correct her form about kicking someone’s head in.

“Huh?” Sayeon stares at him dumbly. “Um—not really? I don’t think I could seriously hurt you even if I tried.”

His little punching trial was one thing. In an actual fight, with nothing holding him back? There’s no way it’d end any better than it did with Ryujin. Plus, Min’s probably working for Samin. He must not be afraid to kill.

Speaking of Min. His face is as unreadable as ever, gaze unwavering. She meets his eyes questioningly.

But all he says is, “You pull your punches sometimes. When it matters most.”

No she doesn’t. She… she knows better than to do something like that, doesn’t she?

“It’s not unusual,” he says, essence gathering toward his left arm. “You don’t understand it yet”—(yet? She doesn’t want to understand)—a blade forms—“just how much damage”—against his arm—

(Something coils in the pit of her stomach. Her heartbeat is too loud. She doesn’t want to know she doesn’t want to know she doesn’t want to know)—

—an aberrant can take.

His arm hits the ground. It lands wetly, blood already beginning to pool.

Holy—

“Min!” she shouts. “Oh my god!”

He ignores her, nonchalantly picking up his own fucking arm. Tells her that she must think of amputated limbs as more serious than they really are—(that’s pretty fucking serious, isn’t it!?)—because of Taeho, but really, he would’ve been fine if he just hadn’t frozen up.

Christ. She’s listening, sort of. But mostly she can’t get the sound of Min’s arm hitting the ground out of her head. “Okay, sure, still—you shouldn’t… do that, Min.”

He doesn’t even look at her. “Why?”

Well, obviously—!

—she.

Doesn’t actually have an answer for that.

Why?

He can heal himself almost instantly. It clearly doesn’t affect him much anymore. Isn’t she the one who’s always saying it—that pain is just something to be conquered? Here’s the epitome of it; something to strive for, just like everything else.

(So why is it so horrifying to watch?)

But what does pain even mean, if you’re the only one who remembers?

Min’s arm is healed. Ryujin’s death was erased. One of them might as well have never happened, and one of them genuinely never happened; the unease lingers in her mind only, so what is she still dwelling on it for? Being stabbed, being amputated, being killed—what does any of it matter, if the consequences don’t last? And…

Once, a lifetime ago, when she had still thought it was possible to outrun her own blood, she’d traded years of misery and migraines, literal blood and sweat and tears, for a chance at a future that will never be hers. So once she inevitably forgets, that, too, may as well have never happened, is that right?

Ha. Haha, haaaaaaaaaaaaa. All those years really just—

…fuck. She really is still stuck in her old worldview. She wanted all that suffering to have meant something, but of course: if it doesn’t bring about results, it doesn’t mean a damn thing.

She sighs, leaning back against the wall. Min was born into this; if she wants to be truly rational, she needs to take her cues from him. She’s the one who needs to leave behind this emotional nonsense. “Right. You’re right. It’s… nothing.”

It’s all mental. That’s it. This is just one more block that needs to be overcome.

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

Breaking Even - F!Reader x Aventurine

Honkai Star Rail

For Reader, success means playing by the rules. For Aventurine, it’s all about knowing when to break them. Thrown together in a delicate negotiation, their opposing styles create sparks that threaten to ignite something far more volatile—and far more dangerous—than a contract.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

[Name] had dealt with corporate types before—smooth talkers with sharp suits and sharper smiles—but Aventurine was in a league of his own. The Interastral Peace Corporation had brought her in as an independent negotiator to help resolve a high-profile trade dispute on the Xianzhou Luofu. It was a complicated mess of resource rights, contested histories, and inflated egos. She was prepared for all of it—until Aventurine walked into the room.

He arrived with a confidence that filled the space, his every move deliberate, a roulette chip spinning between his fingers like it was part of him. His gaze swept across the room, settling on her, and the faint smirk that followed sent a ripple of irritation through her. She’d heard of Aventurine, of course—IPC’s golden boy, the so-called “strategist” whose unorthodox methods had a habit of yielding results. She hadn’t expected him to be this… distracting.

“You must be [Name],” he said, sliding into the seat across from her without waiting for an invitation. “The infamous negotiator.”

She didn’t bother hiding her annoyance. “And you must be Aventurine. The gambler.”

“Strategist,” he corrected, his grin widening. “But close enough.”

-----

Their first meeting set the tone for the weeks that followed. While [Name] approached the dispute with careful precision, dissecting every argument and counterpoint, Aventurine thrived on improvisation and charm. He had a way of turning even the most rigid clauses into something malleable, his silver tongue wrapping around loopholes [Name] didn’t even know existed. It was infuriating—and begrudgingly impressive.

“Your problem,” he told her during a particularly heated discussion, “is that you think everything has to be calculated. Sometimes, you just have to trust your instincts.”

She glared at him, arms crossed. “And your problem is that you think instincts can replace actual strategy.”

“Sometimes it can,” he said with a wink. “You should try it sometime.”

Their debates became a spectacle in their own right, drawing the attention of everyone involved. Yet for all their bickering, there was an undeniable rhythm to their arguments, as though their opposing methods somehow complemented each other. When Aventurine leaned into theatrics, [Name] would bring him back to reality with cold, hard logic. When [Name] got bogged down in details, Aventurine’s quick thinking pushed the conversation forward. They were opposites in every way, and yet neither could deny how effective they were together.

One evening, after hours of negotiations, they found themselves alone in the conference room. Aventurine leaned back in his chair, spinning his roulette chip idly, while [Name] reviewed the day’s notes. The silence between them was almost comfortable.

“You’re good at this,” he said suddenly, breaking the quiet.

[Name] glanced up, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks. So are you.”

His grin softened, and for a moment, he looked almost serious. “Oh? Are you finally warming up to me?”

She raised an eyebrow, her tone dry as ever. “Warming up? Aventurine, if you’re not careful, you might confuse tolerance with fondness.”

“Is that what this is?” he asked, his voice teasing but quieter now, as if testing the words. “Tolerance?”

[Name] set down her datapad, her gaze steady. “It’s recognizing that you’re not entirely insufferable. Don’t let it go to your head.”

His laughter came softly, a sound more genuine than his usual bravado. “Too late,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I take what ever I can get.”

[Name] shook her head, leaning back in her own chair, arms crossed. “You really can’t help yourself, can you? Always angling for the upper hand.”

Aventurine tilted his head, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Wouldn’t be much of a strategist if I didn’t. Besides, isn’t that why we’re so good at this? We push each other.”

She frowned, her mind unwilling to accept the truth in his words but unable to deny it. “You mean you push, and I clean up the mess.”

“Or,” he countered, leaning forward now, his elbows on the table, “I open the door, and you make sure we don’t walk off a cliff. A pretty effective partnership, wouldn’t you say?”

[Name] let the silence settle for a moment, studying him. It was rare for Aventurine to be anything but playful, but there was something unspoken in his eyes now.

“Partnership might be a stretch,” she said finally, though her voice lacked the bite it usually carried.

“Call it what you like,” he said, his grin softening again. “But it works.”

She exhaled, her gaze dropping briefly to the datapad she’d abandoned. She hated how easily he could pull her into these conversations, how he turned even the smallest exchange into a game she couldn’t quite win. And yet, for all her frustration, she couldn’t deny the spark that always lingered in the air between them.

“So what happens,” she asked, her tone more curious than she intended, “when the game’s over?”

Aventurine’s smile faltered for just a second, enough to make her wonder if she’d struck a nerve. But then it returned, softer now, almost wistful. “That’s the beauty of it,” he said. “The game’s never really over. Not when the stakes are this high.”

[Name] didn’t respond immediately, her thoughts tangling with the weight of his words. Aventurine wasn’t just playing games—at least, not in the way she’d assumed. There was something behind his words, something deeper than charm and bravado. It unsettled her, made her question where the boundary between rivalry and something more had started to blur.

“You make everything sound like a gamble,” she said finally, her voice quieter than she intended. “Doesn’t it get exhausting, always trying to outmaneuver everyone?”

His gaze didn’t waver, and for once, his reply lacked its usual glibness. “Not when it’s worth it.”

The simplicity of his answer caught her off guard, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if they were still talking about the negotiations—or something else entirely. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, the unspoken challenge it carried, and it sent her heart racing in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

[Name] straightened, reaching for her datapad to ground herself in something tangible. “You might find it worth it, but I prefer things with clear rules. Predictable outcomes.”

“That’s the difference between us,” Aventurine said, leaning back in his chair, though his eyes never left hers. “You see rules as a way to win. I see them as limits waiting to be broken.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, the faintest smirk playing at her lips. “And yet, here you are. Stuck working with someone who plays by them.”

“Ah,” he said, his grin returning, “but it’s those rules of yours that keep me sharp. Without you to keep me in check, I’d be—what’s the phrase?—completely insufferable.”

“You already are,” she replied, though the warmth in her tone betrayed her.

-----

The weeks that followed had them working together more closely than either had anticipated. The trade dispute had reached its most delicate stage, requiring careful maneuvering on both sides to finalize the agreement. Their debates, once sharp and adversarial, began to shift into something more collaborative, each one balancing the other’s strengths in ways neither had expected.

Late one evening, they found themselves once again alone the conference room as before, pouring over the final terms of the deal. [Name]'s datapad glowed softly in the dark, her fingers typing steadily as Aventurine reclined in his chair, staring up at the ceiling in thought.

“You know,” he said after a long stretch of silence, “for someone who claims to hate uncertainty, you handle it pretty well.”

She didn’t look up from her screen. “You’d be surprised what I can handle.”

“Oh, I know.” His voice dropped slightly, his usual teasing tone replaced by something quieter. “You’re stronger than most people realize. Smarter, too. It’s infatuating, really.”

[Name] paused, her fingers hovering over the keys. She looked up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “Is that your way of complimenting me?”

“Depends,” he said, his grin softening into something almost shy. “Is it working?”

She rolled her eyes, but the faint warmth rising to her cheeks gave her away. “Don’t you have a contract to focus on?”

“Funny,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “I was about to say the same thing to you.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink around them, the weight of their unspoken connection filling the space. [Name] broke the gaze first, her heart racing as she turned back to her work, but the feeling lingered, impossible to ignore.

-----

By the time the final agreement was signed, the tension between them had become almost unbearable. The dispute was resolved, the parties satisfied, and yet [Name] felt an unexpected pang of loss as the work came to an end. Their constant back-and-forth had become something she looked forward to—something she realized she didn’t want to lose.

The night after the deal was finalized, the team gathered at the hotel’s lounge to celebrate. [Name] sat at the bar nursing a glass of wine, watching as Aventurine charmed his way through the room. He was in his element, all confidence and charisma, but when his eyes met hers from across the room, his smile shifted, becoming something softer, more intimate.

Before she could overthink it, he made his way over to her, sliding into the seat beside her. “Not joining the festivities?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze serious.

“I’m celebrating in my own way,” she replied, taking a sip of her wine. “What about you? Enjoying the spotlight?”

“Not tonight,” he said, his voice quieter now. “There’s something else I’d rather focus on.”

[Name] turned to him, her breath catching at the intensity in his expression. For once, there was no smirk, no teasing glint in his eyes—just honesty, raw and unguarded.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he continued, his voice steady. “About finding you infatuating. And I’m starting to think… you might be the one risk I don’t want to walk away from.”

[Name]'s breath caught, her heart pounding in her chest. Aventurine wasn’t just throwing out another line; there was no smirk, no coy undertone. His words landed with weight, and the steady look in his magenta-and-cyan eyes left no room for doubt. He was serious.

“Aventurine,” she began, her voice quieter than she intended. She didn’t finish the thought. What could she say? That she wasn’t sure if this was just another game to him? That, for all his flaws, she’d started to feel the same pull every time they argued, every time he turned the tension between them into something electric?

“I know,” he said softly, leaning just slightly closer. “You don’t trust me yet. That’s fair. But I’m not playing games with you, [Name]. Not about this.”

She looked away, focusing on the rim of her wine glass as she tried to gather her thoughts. Her usual sharpness, the clarity she prided herself on, felt like it had been swept away by the quiet intensity of his words.

“I’m not… good at this,” she admitted after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Neither am I,” he replied, surprising her with his honesty. “But maybe that’s the point. You and I? We’re not the type to take the easy path.”

Her lips quirked into a faint, reluctant smile. “That’s an understatement.”

He grinned at that, a flicker of his usual charm breaking through the sincerity. “See? I’m already winning you over.”

“Winning might be a stretch,” she said, though the softness in her tone betrayed her.

Aventurine leaned back slightly, giving her the space to think while still holding her gaze. “Look,” he said, his voice gentler now, “I’m not asking you to gamble everything. Just… think about it. About us.”

“Us,” she repeated, the word foreign and strange on her tongue.

“Yes, us,” he said with a smile that was equal parts teasing and earnest. “I’m not saying we’re perfect. Hell, we’re probably a disaster waiting to happen. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in all this, it’s that the best risks are the ones that scare you a little.”

[Name] let his words settle, the truth of them tugging at something she wasn’t sure she was ready to name. Slowly, she met his gaze again, her own expression cautious but unguarded.

“I’ll think about it,” she said finally.

Aventurine’s smile widened, relief and something warmer flickering across his face. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

They sat there for a while longer, the noise of the celebration fading into the background as the tension between them shifted into something quieter, something almost hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, it could be the start of something worth risking it all for.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Another fic that was forgotten in google docs, welp it's up now, hope you enjoyed!

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Showing your colours and being free - LuKitty Week 2024

So @lukacouffaineappreciation came out with this event and I decided I wanted to give it a go and decided to also connect it to my Wish universe. If you've never read any of those stories, Luka and Juleka have the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous, Lila and Adrien switched lives, except Adrien is thriving and not lying and Lila is miserable. Oh, and Lukadrien, though in this chapter, its only mentioned briefly and not really the focus. I had wanted to get a bit more in depth in some parts, like making some of their social media posts or other early performances before they opened for Jagged Stone, but I didn't get the chance. Anyway, enjoy! Kitty Section

How it started

“It sounds like a good idea right?”

Luka looked at his sister, who was on the side against the back of the couch they were sharing. They were sitting under the glass pavilion, listening to heavy metal after the day of akumas they had. Seated on either end of the couch, they both got to stretch out, though Juleka made use of his lap for her feet.

“I don’t know. we’re starting to really nail this hero thing down. you think a band is the best idea?”

“A year. And we’ve pulled some impossible odds.” Juleka reminded. “Tikki and Plagg are always reminding us that we’re also teenagers. Luka, you don’t have any outside friends, other than the few you’ve made online or at work and you rarely hang out with them. You’re around my classmates more anyway.”

Luka sighed, sliding further down in the couch, Juleka’s legs moving to his stomach as he draped his arms over her ankles. “What about if practise gets interrupted by an akuma?”

Juleka shrugged. “not like we haven’t made weirder excuses to escape class or mamman.”

True, except both siblings were 100% sure their mother knew what they were doing. The Kwami didn’t even argue against it, Tikki saying something about how some parents knew, though Plagg said some parents were morons. He respected the matriarch, so Luka couldn’t complain.

“Who would be in it? other than you, me and Rose?”

“Ivan plays the drums. Rose is really good at metal screaming, so that’s kinda what she was thinking. Ivan 100% could keep up with that. Besides, since Kim learned not to bully him anymore, he’s much more open to being friends with others.”

“I guess being Mylene’s friends help.” Luka said, digging his phone out from where it was buzzing in his pocket. “Ok, if you come up with a concept and a song and an actual workable rehearsal time, I’ll agree. But I still say we’re taking a risk. I got to go; someone placed an order for 3 different pizza places. For the same order.”

“People are weird.” Juleka said, moving her feet.

He looked at his sister who’d been cursed with not being able to be in pictures, loved horror and for a few hours sometimes, would wear a frilly black dress with cat ears and a tail. He was an empath who preferred music to words so much, that he went to an online school and would hop around Paris in a spotted sweatshirt.

His sister wasn’t wrong.

How it changed

Luka pushed the door to Dupain-Cheng Patisserie open, glad to spot a pigtailed girl carrying a tray of pastries – it looked and smelled like cherry turnovers – instead of her father. M. Dupain heard Marinette make one comment on Luka’s appearance and suddenly he was sure his daughter was interested in him. According to Adrien, Marinette had been interested in the blonde transfer student more, at least until Adrien turned her down.

“Welcome to – oh, Luka! Welcome. are you here for a delivery? Papa didn’t say we had one.”

“No, no.” Luka said, walking up to the counter, where Marinette met him after the turnovers were sitting on their shelf in the display case. “I was hoping to hire you for something. Rose mentioned that you opened commissions recently, specifically for graphic design?”

“Yeah! Jagged Stone had me do a poster for him for his latest tour and while he’s pretty easy to please, I thought if I got more practise with other people, that it would help me get better. That way, not even Bob Roth could try and get me to change things.”

Luka had remembered Marinette running around the hotel the day Jagged Stone was akumatized because of XY. He heard later the DJ was related to Jagged’s producer and since Luka himself wasn’t a fan of XY, he and Juleka had been theorizing if his fame was bought.

“Well, Adrien had brought up a good point when he asked if we were serious about doing Kitty Section. If we want to do this, we’re going to need a symbol to put on our social media. I’d like to hire you to design the symbol.”

“Oh, I’d do it for free.” Marinette offered.

“Nope. We’re going to pay you. Adrien has his hands full trying to get everything set up and still follow his mom’s rules for this, since it’ll be a public account, Rose is working on songs and I have to do melodies, Juleka is doing research for cafes or venues that’ll take auditions and Ivan is trying to convince his dad to be our roadie if we need to move our things and my mom’s out of town, who’s the main parent in charge. We need someone who knows our style to help us design a symbol. So, we are paying you to help make our lives easier because once we have that, a lot of the other things will fall into place.”

Marinette stared at him before smiling and nodding. “Alright. But I get to help film your first video. And make outfits!”

Luka nodded. “But symbol first. So, will you take the job, provided we’re happy with the price and timeline?”

“I will.” She said, holding her hand out so they could shake on it.

With Mme. Cheng taking over for her daughter, Luka sat with Marinette in her room, pictures Rose had texted him on his phone, along with blurbs the other members had written about the group.

“A band to show your colours and be free.” Was the main one she kept going back to.

With a picture of Lego Unikitty, Marinette decided to use it and the groups first song as inspiration. Pure white cat with rocker red eyeliner, horn and a heart shaped nose. She even did another with rainbow butterfly wings behind it.

“Ivan could have this version on his drums.” Luka suggested, when Marinette was about to scrap it.

In the end, Adrien had a symbol to make their profile picture, Juleka had something to attach to emails and flyers for places who were willing to accept amateur acts, Rose had something to reflect off of for them to write their band’s anthem and Ivan and Mylene ended up with a new date idea in figuring out how to press on the newly printed design to the front of Ivan’s drum set.

And Marinette had a significant amount of money in her bank account.

Luka using his last pay check – where he worked overtime 4 times –  was 100% worth it.

How it’s going

Luka loved the outfits Marinette made for their first music video, but sometimes, the jackets just made more sense. It was their first performance since opening for Jagged Stone and the restaurant’s owner had told them everyone who booked a table was there to see them. Adrien reposting clips Alya recorded from the concert seemed to be a major help. It was also a week after Fu wasn’t master anymore and Adrien said he loved him. Life might be insane but music was still his way of escape.

Their little group had expanded, with Nino and Alya helping Adrien with filming and Nino joining Max to get their equipment and sound set up. Nathaniel would help Marinette with any designs, Max getting them projected onto their backgrounds. Marc and Mylene were their roadies and assistants. Kim claimed to be their bodyguard, though Alix and Kagami could be more intimidating. After Scarlet Bug had rescued Chloe after she threw off being akumatized, she considered herself their ‘biggest fan’.

Luka didn’t actually believe she liked any of their music but he appreciated the effort.

“Hey.” Juleka threw her shoulder into his arm, Rooar letting out a squeak from where she hid inside Juleka’s jacket. Not hearing Plagg around his sister was taking some getting used to. He hoped Adrien was handling him alright. “How you feeling? Better?”

Since Luka didn’t attend classes in person, he had more free time, so he’d been taking a lot of the Guardian responsibilities, on top of being Scarlet Bug and leading a brand-new team. Juleka had been fighting him the whole way, like the best sister she was.

“Relaxed, for one. Do you think we can actually do this record deal thing with everything going on?” the thought had been running around his head all throughout rehearsal.

“I know we deserve it. you deserve it Lu. Music means the world to you and whether it comes from this or school or whatever you plan after, what we’re about to do, right now? You deserve this 100%. Rose might be the front man, but I like to think you’re the heart and soul of Kitty Section.”

Again, Juleka was the best sister.

She was slightly wrong though. It wasn’t just him as the heart and soul of the band, it was all of them.

“Ladies and gentlemen! We are Kitty Section!” Rose cried into the mic, her pink mask catching on the lights Max and Morvok programmed. The band was playing the opening for ‘Gimme Chocolate’, which Adrien and Kagami would test the singer on to make sure she still had the pronunciation right. “Are you ready to eat sweets and rock?”

It was the all of them, each member, all the people that helped with each performance. this was his main reason for loving music. For loving Kitty Section.

Showing your true colours and being free.

[taste-of-the-divine]

ꕤ | Love Languages | TLOVM Headcannon

— VOX MACHINA : TLOVM x gn!reader

✩ 𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙊: headcannon, 623 words little wholesome headcannon about each character’s receiving love language!

vex’halia — you would have never guessed at first, but she’s enjoys physical touch quite a lot. elbow grazes, playing with each others hair, fixing clothing— vex’halia uses whatever excuse she can to put her fingers on you. she needs that reassurance, sometimes, that you’re there. soft kisses from her usually find their way from your lips to your neck, and she loves it when you return the favor with some teeth.

keyleth — you realize quickly that she seems particularly responsive to compliments, praise, and verbal affirmations. the response is usually a deep blush over her freckled face that you love so much. she looks adorable like that, so once in a while you pull her by the shoulders into your heat and whisper “atta girl, that’s right. you make me proud,” just to see her absolutely melt into you bubbling with incoherent sounds of flustered embarrassment.

vax’ildan — like his sister, he appreciates physical touch quite a bit. he’s enjoys brief touches though, as he’s not one for long periods of hugging or hand holding. but he enjoys the little kisses you give him as you walk by, and the way your hands squeeze his shoulders when he’s anxious. he particularly loves the feeling of your nails on any part of his body, though— you’ve learned that slow scratches in the right places are enough to keep him seated or laying around you for an extended while. you like to keep him in bed with you on lazy mornings with this technique.

scanlan — scanlan really enjoys quality time, actually. he likes to take you places, on dates and things, to show you new sights or to sing a song for you. he likes hanging out with you alone as much as he likes hanging out with you with everyone else, but he thrives off your attention. his heart swells when you sing along to his songs, almost as if you know them by heart, and he’s also written you countless ballads that he sings or hums to you every time he gets.

grog — grog is also pretty big on physical touch, but he’s huge on gifts. he keeps any little trinket or gift you give him in a little pouch that hangs by his waist, hoarding them until it gets too heavy sometimes and he has to leave a few home for safekeeping. then, he spends a whole day deciding which to leave home because they’re all so precious to him because they’re from you, and he wants to keep them with him all the time. it takes a few bear hugs and reminders that you’ll always be right next to him to give him more gifts before he can relax.

pike — pike is an acts of service kind of gal— she notices and is subtly appreciative of your love. you fold her clothes and leave it at the edge of the bed once, and after saying a thank you, she walked into the kitchen to make you a cup of your favorite tea or coffee. another time you cleaned her everlight shrine, and she was beaming for days after, boasting happily about the comfortable space and claiming that her connection with the everlight was stronger than ever.

percy — percy enjoys quality time a lot, particularly so he could still do work in his workshop. often times, you’d be in the room sitting somewhere with him in his peripheral as you read a book. besides the sounds of clinking metal as he tools with his pepper box, it’s quiet— quiet and peaceful. but he likes to be able to look up and see you there, oftentimes. your presence calms him whenever he felt the pull of orthrax.

© copyright @taste-of-the-divine 2023 ♡ REBLOGS + LIKES ARE APPRECIATED ♡ 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘝𝘖𝘟 𝘔𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘕𝘈 | 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛 & 𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘞𝘖𝘙𝘒𝘚 | 𝘔𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘎𝘌

[straightouttherosebush]

𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑮𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊'𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝑨 𝑺𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏!? 

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓: Yae Miko

𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: Yae is a diligent kitsune with a broad imagination. She needs ideas to keep the publishing house thriving, and would go to any lengths to get what she needs. However, what if pretending to be in a relationship with a shrine maiden isn't just for the sake of inspiration?

𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: Just really fluffy and just a little gay. Love you guys!

As sly as a fox is she, with her wits always about her but her playful nature running amok. The look in her eyes always either gleaming with a hint of mischief or glaring with the utmost solemnity. Yae is revered on all of Inazuma’s islands and even across the sea, where gods and their retainers alike recall her name and commend her for her power.

That being said, having the Lady Guuji casually walk up to you and strike up a conversation would have been unheard of. Especially if you’re a mere shrine maiden. She runs the show, always stern and diligent, expecting the same of those operating the Grand Narukami Shrine. This line of work is very sacred after all.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Yae greeted you as she walked over to where you were sweeping the deck of one of the small buildings. Everything in your brain was put on pause as you processed her greeting.

“Good morning, Lady Guuji!” You replied timidly, almost completely caught off guard by her specifically greeting you. The closer she got to where you were, the more the sinking anxiety feeling grew within your chest. She never usually has time for conversing with the maidens, so you start to worry that you either did something wrong or have boatloads of work– comparable to the cargo held in the ships that come in from Liyue Harbor.

You tried to focus on the task at hand– sweeping and cleaning up the shrine’s decks. Breathing along with the broom strokes, trying to calm down and catch your breath. However, the only sweeping actually happening was Miss Yae sweeping you off your feet. As per usual, it isn’t difficult to find yourself enamored by and in fear of the kitsune, but how could you not? With those purple eyes boring into your soul, you could drop dead any second.

“Why so scared? You did nothing wrong. You can untense. As if you even need my permission to do so.” She attempted to assure you with a slightly teasing tone. You let out a nervous giggle and tried your best to steady your breath and slow your racing thoughts. You propped the broom up onto one of the railings and turned to face her, bowing and coming back up with a sheepish smile on your face. Your expression is riddled with awkwardness and fear. 

She was trying to put you at ease, look eased, dammit!

“Is there anything important you need to make me aware of, Lady Miko?” You asked, expecting her to issue you orders or commend your upkeep of the shrine and walk away. 

“Actually, I do have something I’d like to talk to you about. I feel this isn’t the time or place though, so all I ask is  that we meet at the Uyuu Restaurant at your earliest convenience. Sound good, little one?” She asked with crossed arms and a smile. You nodded.

“Of course, Lady Guuji.” You accepted her invitation, still very nervous. She chuckled at your worried expression and smirked.

“Glad we arranged this. I hope to see you soon, Y/N,” She sang before walking off. You waited for her to leave before continuing to work, as she instantly rushed off to check on other areas of the shrine.

What exactly did she want? You wondered to yourself. It would have been a valid question, had your words not been caught in your throat. It’s really hard to think when her sakura scent is wafting into your nose, her eyes are only on you, and that smile of hers on her face. You’re aware that she is planning something, but cannot pin down exactly what. 

Could it be something to do with the Shogun? No. She would have known better than to choose a simple shrine maiden. Chances are, she would have called upon that traveler, the one Yae called on to assist her in bringing the Shogun back to her senses. Surely they would be a thousand times more effective and helpful than you.

It definitely wasn’t something regarding shrine work, unless, of course, it is. She has had plots in the past where she would have shrine maidens play roles to assist in the success of her plans regarding the supernatural. This matter didn’t seem to worry her that much though, she didn’t seem too serious. Of course, the kitsune was careful and excelled in masking her true intentions and emotions, but it seems that this wasn’t something too urgent.

Could the Lady Guuji herself be asking you to accompany her as a friend? That would be sweet but doesn’t ease you or shake your skepticism. As unlikely as this seems, she does like watching people squirm in her presence, it can be fun for her if she’s in a playful and jovial mood. But you? Really? You shake the thought, highly doubtful that this is actually the case.

Throughout the day, your racing thoughts began to fade as you performed your duties. Assisting in practices and performing simple exorcisms (or rather, faking it because the person in question isn;t actually possessed), deciphering fortune slips, etcetera. By the end of your day’s work, you had almost completely forgotten about Lady Guuji’s request until thinking about dinner.

You hurried down the steps of the shrine, all the way down Mt. Yougo and through the grassy fields into Inazuma City. Upon nearing the restaurant, Yae already stood, anticipating your arrival. She didn’t notice you at first, this led to you tapping her shoulder and slightly jumping back when she turned to you, smiling.

“I expected you to take longer,” she laughed “shall we head inside?”

You nodded your head as she made way for you to walk through the doorway first, she immediately followed. The lights inside were charming and the setting itself was nice and cozy as well. Yes, you’ve been here before, but never appreciated it as much until being invited by her. You noticed every little detail of the place; from the various scents moving through the air, to the creaking wood and chatter from other patrons. All of these surroundings occupied your mind, consumed you as a distraction from the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

The two of you sat at the bar, where you both ordered the ever-popular tonkotsu ramen. The silence was awkward at first, even though the ambience of the other customers made up for the lack of conversation from the two of you.

“Aren’t you going to thank me for inviting you out tonight, Y/N?” the kitsune joked. Due to your tenseness and nervousness, you had to fight the urge to apologize profusely.

“My apologies, Lady Guuji. I am very grateful for the invitation and am glad to be here with you tonight. Thank you.” You responded, almost like you were reciting something pre-rehearsed.

“You are allowed to call me Yae, you know? I understand that you’re caught off guard but I imagined that the shock would have worn off by now.” she remarked.

“It’s kind of… see, you’re highly revered and in all honesty, I’m glad you invited me out tonight but I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reason.” You explained to her, trying your best to avoid eye contact, yet stealing glances every few words or so.

“Let me explain.” She smiled and cleared her throat subtly.

“Recently, my ideas for writing have run dry as of late. Then it dawned on me that maybe something different is in order,” She started, “After all, Yae Publishing House is renowned for paving the way, is it not?”

“What might that be?” You asked, your interest piqued.

“Well, how many romantic light-novels have you seen with two female protagonists pining for each other?” She proposed. Come to think of it, she has a point. There aren’t very many or any at all. None that are well-known anyway.

“That does sound interesting, especially since I’m big into light novels, I haven’t yet found any with that being the focus. I would definitely read it, that’s for sure.” You beamed. Yae chuckled, thankful for your insight.Your bowls of ramen were gently placed in front of , the steam warming your face and the scent making your mouth water. You were still intent to hear her plans, so you gave her a look that urged her to keep speaking.

“Come now, eat. I didn’t invite you out for you not to eat, after all.” She smiled as she raised her ladle full of pork broth up to her pink lips, savoring every last drop. You couldn’t help but stare at her pleased expression, but looked away as she noticed you looking. You heard her giggling as you picked up the noodles in your bowl and began slurping them up with delight.

After thoroughly enjoying your meals along with each others’ presence, Yae shifted in her seat to face you.

“Oh yes, one part I failed to mention,” she recalled “The reason I invited you to eat and speak with me on this matter.”

“You didn’t just want my input?” You asked her. She shook her head and giggled.

“No, I had something else in mind,” she started explaining “I wanted to see what it was really like, being in a relationship with a woman, solely to assist with  writing these two characters. What do you think?”

“You’re not proposing–” You were taken aback, absolutely shocked by what the kitsune was insinuating. Your face turned a bright red and she smirked at this physical response.

“Only for the purpose of writing this story. After all, I can split the sales with you if that’s a motivator of yours.” She proposed.

“No, no! I’m not money-hungry for anything, I’m just–” You shook your head and waved your hands, but she interrupted the oncoming explanation. She already knew.

“I know, I know. This is completely uncalled for and it concerns you that I proposed this out of the blue. Truly I understand,” Yae sympathized, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder “You have all the right to reject this offer. I will not force you to assist me, but I’d very much like it if you did.”

“I…” you tried to speak, but couldn’t muster up the words. While yes, this was quite uncalled for, you weren’t uncomfortable. Flattered, maybe, but not shifting and squirming because you wanted to leave. Only because this was quite sweet, in some weird way. She said it was fake but sincerity was sprinkled in her voice.

“I… I have decided… I will help you with this investigation of yours.” You accepted, turned away from her out of embarrassment.

“Are you certain? You look like you're quite bashful and unsure.” She asked to confirm, and you faced her.

“Miss Yae, all due respect, who in their right mind would reject an opportunity like this?” You deadpanned, causing her to giggle in response.

“I suppose you have a point.”

“So does this mean…?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded and smirked.

“Hopefully we’ll make the best of partners, my dear Y/N.” She cooed as she handed the man behind the counter a pouch of mora. She then proceeded to get up and offer her arm. You got up and grasped her forearm and smiled up at her. 

“Shall I walk you home?” She offered, a loving smile on her lips. You nodded and averted your eyes shyly.

“Yes, Miss Yae.” You grinned from ear to ear. You’d cover your face if you could. A feeling was boiling in your chest and you had no idea what it was. Not anxiety, not fear, but admiration? No. Too soon. That couldn’t possibly be it. It’s only been minutes.

“Alright, lead the way,” She said as you two headed out of the restaurant and into the beautiful night.

This is all just for the sake of inspiration, right? Then why does it feel so real?

A/N: Hi guys! I've had this idea in my brain forever and if you want the whole story (I haven't finished the second chapter yet lol), I will be regularly updating it on Wattpad! This post is the first chapter and the link below is the same thing but if you'd like to support the book, it'd mean a lot! <3

♡MASTERLIST HERE♡

Ⓒ Written by Rosey, please do not copy/repost/translate.♡

[fio-renze]

“I just feel so foolish.” 

Pyraelia glanced over at her sister and arched an eyebrow, watching as Fiorenze turned a small sea shell over in her hands. “You shouldn’t, really. Dwelling on it is just going to make it worse. You loved someone, that’s worth celebrating, regardless of the outcome.”

Fiorenze sighed a little and rolled a shoulder. In her bikini and beach robe it was easy to see how much she’d changed in a year. Soft fat had become lean muscle, the delicate floral tattoos that twisted up her left arm would never have been allowed to be displayed so openly in the salons and gardens of the nobles in Eversong. She tucked the shell into her pocket before reaching up to scratch at her scalp a bit and shake out her salt kissed curls, “I suppose. All I can control is what I do about it, right? Try not to go anywhere he’ll be, do my best to figure out what to do next. Cakes is off limits now, and the gallery’s going to be a bit of a nightmare, I suppose.” 

“Annya said she’d take care of you and make sure you knew where he’d be, didn’t she? She seems to like you, so hopefully that will work out at least,” Pyraelia shrugged and smiled a bit as the surf crept up the beach, running over her feet before receding. “I don’t think avoiding places your friends go is very productive, though. He did tell me a while ago that he cared about you very much.” 

“Did he? How quaint. Words mean nothing without action to back them up,” her tone was razor sharp for a moment before settling back into her usual silken ease, “It’s easier to avoid him at the after party, during the actual gallery show is another thing entirely. I could just show up fashionably late, but that’s rude, too. I trust Annya to do what’s best for herself, and in this instance making sure the show is lovely for most is that. It wouldn’t surprise me if she had that mysterious Sera fellow guide me around on occasion.” 

Pyraelia laughed quietly, “That doesn’t sound like it would be so bad, you do like giving people something to talk about, and there will be enough nobles and former nobles there to show off a bit around. You’re thriving more than you aren’t, you know.” 

Fiorenze smiled at her, eyes hidden behind her oversized sunglasses, “Thank you. Keep reminding me of that, please. It certainly doesn’t feel like it, most of the time.” 

“Sure, and for the record, you’ve always been foolish. He’s not special,” she was quick to smile back, earnest in the sentiment even if it was a bit of a sisterly jab. 

Another wave crashed onto the shore and Fio turned her gaze back out across the glittering blue, hiding her expression away, “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that for a bit longer.”

[sugudoe]

1, 6, 7, 9, 14, 18, 21, 24, 30, 32, 40

emy, love, i got too excited and started babbling .ᐟ ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🪷་༘

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

morbid as it is, i believe my depression and anxiety are the two major factors, specially this last few months, it’s getting difficult as of late, but fortunately i have the third thing, which is love. i might have problems with loving my own life, but i love others and it makes worth living. there are greater things expecting me, so i keep being this optimistic, gentle and try hard person.

what’s the best and worst part of being online/a creator?

the best thing, without a doubt, it’s this whole community of strangers that follow me, likes my stuff and interact with it. any time i see a comment it turns into fuel for my writing, and therefore i keep making more and more non stopping. the worst part for me, would be my strong desire to keep getting better than what i was yesterday, so i burn my brains and my eyes with editing a new theme every night, writing until my fingers and arms go numb and the feeling of believing no one likes it. i had a talk with another creator this week, about this fear of never growing or making people hate what i do, it’s silly, but it has been plaguing me for a few weeks now.

what scares you the most and why?

be stuck. i have many goals, had always been a wanderer in my own mind, creating the life of my dreams, and it petrifies me the idea to never conquer them. to see myself in the future living something i did not plan or created, to be unhappy and grey, makes me very very scared.

tell a story about your childhood.

i don’t remember much of it, so i’ll tell you this one from before my birth. my mother was on her way to clip her tubes, and found out she was pregnant with not only me, but a boy as well, her biggest dream. she then decided to trick my older sibling, saying if the baby is a girl, my sibling can pick the name, if is a boy then she will. i guess whatever divine creature in the sky didn’t enjoyed her lying to a six years old, and then i ended up “eating” my twin. any opportunity, my mom tells this story and she says “you ate my boy!!”. sukuna aah story.

what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but maybe been to scared to do?

to live by myself, actually. not in a house setting way, i actually mean i fear doing things by myself, i avoid wasting my money with me or going out alone. i thrive on having company, that’s why i like to interact with people.

do you believe in ghosts and/or aliens?

yes for both! all the woman in my family could be considered mediums, specially my mom. we have always been followed by weird things. we have lived in three houses, the first one had a weird atmosphere to it, in the dark. the second one was were i grow up, constant nightmares, one person died and showed up demonically to two people, it scares me to be anywhere there, to look somewhere for too long and know you will see something. my current house, though, it’s fucking creepy as well and unfortunately i’m the most affected one. i’ve seen a girl on my siblings bed, something white jumping towards me, a black shadow following me, sounds of chains, screaming, footsteps and yet, the second one scares me the most. for aliens i believe in them, astronomy is my favorite thing in the world, my dad and i use our telescopes to see the astros and keep saying “you see that? that’s an ovni, for sure.”

are you a spiritual person?

i don’t know, my parents have never imposed religion on me, so i learned for myself. have always believed in the universe, i studied lots of religion and when i found all those similarities i started to believe that there is something that is behind all of this, and it presents itself for others with different names and faces.

what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

i’m proud of mini me, she was really pure and really smart. i learned english by myself when i was seven years old, i learned of astronomy, arrows and bows, of the history of the world, to write and to read and to talk freely of what i think. gosh, she was amazing.

what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

as of later, you guys. anytime i see an ask, a comment, a follower, serotonin is released. and also music, to sing and dance when the emotions are too much. my favorite song is a nova vida, by carter burwell.

how many tabs do you have open right now?

110 on safari and if asking about apps, it’s 6.

any bad habits?

bed rotting, and i used to smke, but it’s been a long time, yay!

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 7 of The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars is here! 🌶️

It starts getting spicy and earns its Explicit rating in this chapter. MINORS should not interact! 👀

Aged-up, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x female OC (Kate Mayflower)

Chapter features body worship, teasing, fingering, cunnilingus

Again, minors, do not interact! 🌶️

The full chapter is available below the cut, along with the AO3 link. Feedback would be greatly appreciated, as I am new to writing smut!

Chapter 7: Leave It to Me

Kate surveys her appearance in the bathroom mirror, having left Sebastian in the living room on the loveseat. She splashes a little water on her face and pinches her cheeks, in an attempt to appear lively, even though she has been up for almost 24 hours now. She brushes her long golden hair, which has gone just a bit frizzy and gotten tangled over the course of the night, and dabs perfume on her pulse points. Merlin. The most attractive man I’ve ever beheld is waiting out there for me, like a belated birthday present.

As she finally meanders back to the living room, Sebastian seems to be looking around in amazement, taking everything in. The room is tiny, reflecting the small size of the cottage. A fireplace crackles, close to the front door. He relaxes comfortably on the small brown couch, his legs spread out behind a wooden coffee table. Plants are scattered throughout the room, hanging from the ceiling and sitting in pots of various sizes. An open doorway next to an empty wall leads into the kitchen, and Kate herself wanders in from the other direction - a small hallway that leads to the rest of the cottage. 

“Kate, your cottage - it’s so cozy and welcoming. I love it,” Sebastian tells her genuinely. “It’s charming. This might sound stupid, but it feels like a real home.” 

His eyes roam over all of the plants, and he feels a surge of warmth as Kate sits directly next to him on the loveseat. Then, he looks directly at her, leaning over to get even closer. “What is your favorite plant?” he asks softly with a smile.

“In this room or in general?” Kate pauses, and when he simply nods, she chuckles and speaks enthusiastically.  “Well, in this room, I suppose I would say my Christmas cactus. I just love that it blooms in the winter! It’s so cold and dreary, but the cactus flowers bring color - a bright pink - to the dead world. Despite everything, it thrives.”

Sebastian listens attentively and notices her excitement as she describes the plant she loves. Her explanation was adorable. “It is a nice one, even when it’s just green. I’ve never seen a Christmas cactus bloom. I will take your word for it that it is beautiful.” He looks in her eyes still as he encourages her to tell more. “What about your favorite plant in general?”

“Sunflowers,” she answers without hesitation. “I have always loved sunflowers. Well, any flowers, really. Anything colorful and pretty and fragrant.”

Taking her hand in his, he replies softly and romantically, “Kate, you’re like the flowers. You bring color and life anywhere you go.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, her heartbeat quickens. “That’s very sweet of you to say.” She blushes, her cheeks turning pink. “I love plants. My father taught me how to garden, how to tend to them all. He owns a business based around, well… tending to rich people’s gardens.” She quietly laughs, then asks, “Do you have a favorite plant or flower in general, Sebastian?”

“I’m a simple man,” he replied with a small grin, his arm brushing against hers. “You can call me boring, but I like roses. They’re classic and elegant. You can’t go wrong with roses.” Sebastian figured this would be an answer she would appreciate.

“Roses - interesting. They’re so delicate and require precise care. Their fragrance is one of my favorites and part of my perfume,” Kate notes. “You know, I actually thought that you might say something like a cedar or pine or some kind of fir tree. I hope it isn’t weird to say, but I noticed that scent on you earlier.” 

“Did you, now?” Sebastian smirks. He pauses, thinking about something. “I like trees, yes, and roses, but most of all, I like flowers that have meaning to them.” There was a deep sincerity in his voice that made it hard to look away from him. “I can see a sunflower being that flower for you.”

Kate contemplates what he said. It was rare to find a man who knew anything like that. “Do you… actually know a lot about the meaning of flowers? What makes you think the sunflower is symbolic for me?” Her curiosity is piqued, wanting to know his reasoning.

Sebastian moved his arm around Kate’s shoulders and leaned a little bit further into her space. “Sunflowers… They symbolize cheerfulness and joy. They represent the warmth of the sun. And that’s what you bring to the room. Sunshine.” 

As soon as he says the word sunshine, a look of wonder appears on her face. “Did you just say sunshine? That was my nickname growing up…”

He felt something stir inside of him; it felt as though lacewing flies were lighting up and fluttering around his stomach. He didn’t know what to think or say. It was as if the gods were watching down on them and their chance meeting. “Sunshine? It’s your nickname?” he asks in a hushed tone. 

“Yes. It’s a strange coincidence you said that, Sebastian…” Kate trails off, her eyes not leaving his. “One of my grandmothers gave me that nickname when I was very little, and it stuck. She said that when I was a toddler, I was always running around, smiling and giggling. I was a happy little girl, spreading joy everywhere I went. I also had very light blonde hair, just like the sun.”

Sebastian nodded appreciatively. “It’s still true. You have an energy to you - warmth and cheerfulness.” Her bright smile, her contagious laughter - he felt it all. She was just like a ray of sunshine. “Can I call you Sunshine?”

Kate’s cheeks turn pink again. “Um, sure… that’s fine.” She shyly plays with her hair.

“Shall I tell you my nickname as a child?” he asks.

“Absolutely! Please do.”

He chuckles. “Prince. I was always pampered by my parents when they were still living. I was spoiled. My mother always called me her little prince, and Anne was called her little princess. The little twin rulers.”

Kate bursts out laughing. “Seriously? That’s adorable. You must have been an incredibly sweet and spoiled boy, then. Or a little brat!” She giggles. She isn’t sure if she should ask about his parents and their passing right now. It seems like the wrong time, so she tucks it away. It’s too heavy. Later. 

Sebastian could not help but laugh with her - it was infectious. “Yeah, I was kind of a handful. What about you? Is Sunshine your only nickname?” He asked sincerely.

“Well, that was the main one. But my parents also happened to call me Princess, believe it or not. They spoiled me rotten. I pretty much always got whatever I wanted and was always ordering people around - even adults.” She stops to try to remember any other nicknames. “I can’t think of more at the moment. But I love that you were called Prince and that I was called Princess.” Suddenly a thought strikes her, a huge smile crossing her face. “Perhaps since my other nickname is Sunshine, maybe I’m the princess of the sun. You can be the prince of the moon and rule over night and darkness.” She chuckles, enjoying the idea.

“I like the sound of that. The prince of the moon and princess of the sun. It suits us both.”

“You know, I’d like to know so much more about the moon prince.” Kate gives Sebastian a sweet look. “I happen to find him handsome and romantic and intriguing…”

Did she just call me handsome? She’s adorable. He felt the need to make a witty comment back, but his brain was short-circuiting in pure bliss. “Intriguing? Why do you find me intriguing?”

Kate doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she searches his eyes. “There’s an aura about you - you’re secretive, I think. I feel like I am compelled to uncover the mystery and… maybe solve it? I don’t know, maybe that’s just cheesy.” She blushes. “I guess what I’m actually trying to say is… I like you, Sebastian. There’s something about you that pulls me in.”

“I like you, too, Princess,” he replied without hesitation. “And it’s not cheesy. I understand what you mean.”

Sebastian thought about the aura that Kate said surrounded him. It was true. He tried to remain a mystery to most people. He had so many secrets. Ones that would probably scare Kate. He liked her very much, but he didn’t want to hide - couldn’t hide - who he really was forever. She would eventually have to know. But if he said anything now, he might not get any further. He once again decides to keep his lips sealed tight. “Well, I will allow you to uncover and solve any mystery of mine. I’ll only give you clues, though. It would be no fun giving you my entire life story right off the bat,” he teased.

“Oh, so you’re going to make me work for it?” Kate asks playfully. “What might make you share your secrets with me? How shall I find any clues?”

Sebastian smirked. “If I told you all of my secrets right now, we wouldn’t have much to talk about in the future, would we? But… maybe if you tell me a secret of yours, I will tell you something, too.”

“A fair trade,” Kate replies, pondering what to share. It’s difficult to concentrate, being so close to him. Flirtatiously, she whispers in his ear, “What if I told you that I am dying to kiss you right now?”

The lacewing flies pick up again. He wants to do it. He wants to kiss her right now. He couldn’t stop a grin from flashing across his face. He leaned in even closer yet, his heart pounding and excitement pumping through his veins. “Then, I would tell you that I want that, too.”

“A shared secret,” she murmurs suggestively, her eyes on his lips.

Sebastian’s mind was already made up. Without any further estimations, he leaned in and went for it. His eyes fluttered shut, and he slowly brought his lips to hers, enjoying every second of the sweet and romantic moment. 

“I don’t ever want to stop,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, when they pulled apart. His breathing was heavy; his heart kept beating wildly. 

“Is that another secret?” Kate asks in a quiet voice. “Because that’s one of my secrets, too…” 

She leans back in and kisses him again, deeper and longer and more tender this time. As Kate throws her arms around him, he locks his arms around her waist and continues to kiss her. All he wants is to hold her and kiss her, for the moment to never end, but he was still a little afraid that if he kept going that she might think he was moving too fast. “Princess…” he whispered, his voice soft. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? With me?” His fingers grazed her back.

“Yes,” she replies. “I wouldn’t have brought you home otherwise, Sebastian.” Kate pauses, now worried that she is coming off too strong.

Sebastian felt her soft and delicate touch on his back. He thought he might go crazy, his mind racing with emotions. “Do you want to… go further?” He brushed his fingertips over her back as well.

Kate takes a deep breath, then eventually nods. “Only if you do.” She looks into his eyes and kisses his hand softly, then puts it back around her waist.

Sebastian bit his lower lip. He couldn’t believe he was in this situation. He pulled her closer, giving her another small kiss. He was starting to feel more comfortable with Kate in his arms. Asking for permission, he softly asks, “Can I…?” but his voice trails off.

“You don’t need to ask,” Kate whispers in his ear. “I only ask that you listen if I say no. And I really doubt I am going to say no to you. I’m not sure I could,” she admits. “There’s something about us. I need to see if it’s… real. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“I feel it, too,” he replies, taking a deep breath. “I want to see if it’s real as well.” 

Sebastian slowly leans in for another kiss, a much deeper one. Kate completely surrenders to his lips, meeting them over and over again. She presses a hand to his chest and curls another around the back of his neck. Her body feels so awake right now. Every sensation sends electricity coursing through her veins. 

What started as a flicker is now a roaring fire in Sebastian’s body. He cannot help himself, the flames so wild that they could not be contained by the strongest magic. His lips are pressing against hers bruisingly, his fingers weaving through her hair. His tongue tries to find hers as the kiss becomes more intense. He is ready to take her to the ground if she asks him to. 

Sebastian finally pulls away and takes a deep breath, needing air. They stared into each other’s eyes. “It is real,” he whispered, smiling softly. 

“Gods, it’s real…” Kate replies, catching her breath.

She gives him a seductive look, and then she climbs onto his lap, folding her legs around his on the loveseat. With fiery passion now in her eyes, too, she moves her arms to his back. “Is this okay?” She kisses him.

He smiles as he observes her red, swollen lips. “Of course it is. I couldn’t ask for anything better.” He gives her the same flirty look.

Sebastian starts to trail kisses from her lips to her ear, then down her neck. Kate leans back, breathing heavily, as his lips start moving lower. She gasps as he kisses a sensitive part of her neck over and over, teasing her. Her hands slowly move from his back to his shoulders, to the back of his neck, and finally to his head. She pushes her fingers through his chestnut-colored hair, discovering how thick it is. Sebastian groans in delight. 

His hands travel to the front of her dress and begin to unbutton the bodice. Sebastian’s lips work in sync, kissing her the entire time. His mouth then returns to the point where her shoulder and neck meet, hearing her little moan. 

Exhaling sharply, she pulls his head back up to her face, pressing her lips to his again. His hands release button after button as they deeply and passionately kiss. Her body temperature is rising to an exorbitant level. She nips at his bottom lip, then slides her tongue over it. He mirrors her actions, moaning and feeling his heart race. 

Finally, Sebastian has successfully unbuttoned the entire top half of her dress. He pulls back a little and looks down at Kate before pulling it down slowly, letting the fabric pool at her hips. She trembles as her corset is exposed, her large breasts heaving underneath. She slowly brings her eyes to his. Sebastian’s heart pounds faster and louder as he trails his hands around her body, pulling her closer to him. His frame presses against hers as he looks right into her eyes. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers. “So bloody gorgeous.”

Kate’s breathing is heavy as Sebastian reaches around to the strings of her corset. As he unties the bow and loosens the strings little by little, she begins to kiss his neck as well, leaving little nips at times. She starts to unbutton his vest, and once that is open, she works on his collared shirt. Her mouth explores every new piece of skin she exposes. When her work is complete, he slowly shrugs off his shirt and vest, dropping them on the floor, exposing his toned, strong, and freckled body. His fingers return to her corset as he kisses and lightly bites her neck. Her mouth falls open, little noises dropping out, as she surges upward in delight.

Feeling that her corset is finally loose enough now to take off, Kate raises her arms for him to lift it up and off of her. It is a real pleasure when the awful contraption is off of her body, but she also flushes, turning pink as she feels exposed. Sebastian stares at her breasts for a moment before leaning forward and kissing them with a moan. She cannot help but let out a groan as well when his lips discover a nipple, licking all around it. One of his hands begins to cup and caress her other breast. 

“Oh, Sebastian…” Kate whimpers. 

He couldn’t contain it any longer. Sebastian gently pushes Kate down, to the point where she was laying on her back on the tiny loveseat with her legs dangling off of it. He hovered over her, feeling powerful, and began to kiss down her body, taking his time and savoring every inch. There was no rush - only pleasure. Only he had the power to make her squirm and whimper like this.

“Sebastian… should we move… somewhere else?” she whispers breathlessly. “This couch - it’s not comfortable. It’s too small…”

Kate is right - the space is too cramped. And this is not where he wants their first time to take place. She deserves better. 

“Oh. Um… do you want to go to your room?” he replied, his face flushed.

“Yes,” Kate replies quickly, pushing herself back up. 

She kisses him hard in an attempt to keep the sensuous mood going before they move. Kate slowly stands, keeping her mouth on his until she simply cannot anymore. When Sebastian stands, his hands go to the small of her back, untying the bow of her dress and loosening it. Finally, the dress falls to the floor, leaving Kate in only her lacy knickers. She steps out of the dress and gives him a seductive look. Her hands reach forward to run over his chiseled chest and torso. Sebastian leans down to kiss her again. She only pulls away to take him to her bedroom. She grabs his hand and leads him down the short hallway, taking a left into her room.

Once they are in her room, the moment feels even more intimate. Sebastian looked around and noticed more plants, hanging and on the ground. He doesn’t have much time to observe anything, though. He suddenly moans as he feels her hands gliding from his chest to his abs and then lower yet. Kate begins to work on his trousers, unbuttoning them and unzipping his fly. She pulls his slacks down quickly, then appears unsure of what to do next. They are both practically naked, standing before each other, with Kate in just her knickers and Sebastian in just his shorts, though it sure seems like there is something rather large underneath. Kate gulps, understanding his size.  

“Sebastian… it’s… um, it’s been a while for me. I just want you to know that before we go any further,” she explains, feeling the need to warn him now that she has seen how big he is. She knows it’s going to hurt a little. She’s out of practice.

“It’s okay. I can be gentle for you,” he whispers, his tone soft and low. His hands moved around her waist and back to her breasts. He smiles gently, and looks down for a moment. “Can I… Can I do something first?” he asks in a raspy voice.

Kate whispers back, “What do you want to do?”

“Can I… Can I taste you?” His face turns slightly red. He feels something far more for Kate than just lust; he wants to be sure she is satisfied as well.

Kate’s eyes go wide. Her mouth drops. “I… oh, gods… uh… erm, this is embarrassing.” She pauses, looking away from him. “Alright, I am just going to say it. I hope you don’t look at me any differently. Sebastian, I am pretty experienced, but… no one has ever done that for me before.” Kate blushes. “I don’t know if I’ll like it or not…”

He lets out a small moan at her words, his fingers teasing one of her nipples as the other hand kneads her breast. “That makes me want to do it even more.” He pauses, leaning down to kiss her lips. “I’ll make sure you enjoy your first time with me. I promise.” He winks, putting his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“But… What about you?” Kate asks, searching Sebastian’s eyes. “Don’t you find it… disgusting? My ex-boyfriend never even wanted to try. He said that ladies were just… dirty down there. But I’ve heard that most women really like-” She stops herself from chattering on, closing her eyes in embarrassment when she realizes that he is gazing at her in surprise.

Sebastian takes a few seconds to respond. “I don’t find it disgusting at all. It’s exciting. I want you to experience that pleasure. And I’m sure you will taste delicious.” He caresses her cheek, brushing her hair away from her face. He focuses on her with a gentle smile. “I want to make you happy, Kate,” he whispers into her ear.

“You - you do? Truly?” Kate’s eyes widen. “My ex-boyfriend - to be honest, he never really made me feel…” She trails off, biting her lip and looking away. “He just - well, he just cared about himself when we were in bed.” She finally meets Sebastian’s eyes again. “I’m sorry. I know this is stupid. He just… kind of messed things up for me.”

Sebastian kisses her on the forehead, holding her tightly. The feeling of her skin against his is overwhelming and intoxicating. “Kate, you don’t have to apologize. Some guys are just selfish and don’t care about how their girl feels.” He pauses. “You don’t have to worry about me. I care about your needs and your emotions. I’m not just going to use you and ignore your feelings. You deserve to feel good.”

Kate nods, appearing hopeful. “Alright…” She takes a nervous breath. “What should I do, Sebastian? Should I lie down?”

He smiles, kissing her softly on the lips. He runs his hands through her hair, letting out a breath. “Yes, lay down and relax. Just leave it all to me,” he whispers in a soothing voice, trying to calm her nerves as he gently pushes her onto the bed.

As Sebastian lowers Kate’s body, he follows her down the entire way. He captures her lips in his again, and then begins kissing his way down her body, focusing on the most sensitive areas - her neck, her collarbone, each of her breasts, as she moans and whimpers. He sucks on each of her stiff, rosy nipples before journeying on to her belly button and below. His hand softly glides up her thigh. He slips his fingers under the waistband of her lacy pink panties, dragging them slowly down her legs and finally throwing them to the side. 

Now, Sebastian clambers off the bed. For a moment, he hungrily takes in the sight of Kate’s entirely nude body. By the gracious and merciful gods, he was somehow granted permission to glimpse and caress and ruin. It’s enough to make him twitch uncomfortably beneath the underpants holding him back.

Sebastian kneels and settles himself on the rug that covers the floor around the bed. He spreads her legs wide and encourages her to scoot her body until, directly in front of his face, lies her sweet cunt. For several moments, he greedily gazes upon his unwrapped present, untouched for so long but now completely and willingly open to him and him alone. She is well-groomed, with only a small, trimmed patch of brown hair leading to her pink, arousal-moistened center, where she wants - no, needs - him the most. 

Kate gasps when she suddenly feels the sensation of Sebastian’s hand gliding up her leg all the way to her thick thigh… and then between her thighs. Getting exactly what she craves, Kate moans as he palms her pussy. Then, he causes her entire body to spasm as he uses his index fingers to trace circles around her sensitive nub. She shakes erratically, her legs moving on their own accord, alternating between stretching and folding. Feeling intense pleasure, Kate begins to whine as he takes his time, doing nothing else. It feels so much better when it’s him doing this; satisfying herself when she is lonely and longing for a non-existent lover at night would never be as fulfilling as having a man she adores between her legs. Not even getting inspired, hot and wound up, by the most erotic of texts could compare. Sebastian smiles, increasing the pace while observing each reaction she gifts him, experimenting and learning and memorizing for further study. He begins to touch her clit directly but gently, moving his finger up and down over it, pressing lightly, as she whimpers loudly. Her legs flail; her back arches. He continues to do what she clearly likes, teasing her in all the right places as she makes high-pitched vocalizations of ecstasy.

“Are you enjoying yourself so far?” Sebastian’s voice was slightly raspy. He was clearly having a grand time himself, ready to progress.

“Oh, gods, yes. Sebastian, please don’t stop,” Kate chokes out, her voice needy.

He smirks, then switches hands. He moves one index finger through her wet folds, preparing, while his other hand works at her clit. He finally slips his finger inside of her, feeling her tight walls cautiously accept him. When he is sure she is ready, an additional appendage joins in a moment later. He pumps his long fingers in and out of her - slow at first, just like a little fire gaining momentum. Then, as it turns into a roaring bonfire, she begins to whine uncontrollably as he increases his pace. Then, he curls his fingers inside her body, and she practically explodes, as though someone is using Confringo on her very soul.

“Sebastian! Oh, gods!!!” Kate cries out. Her hands search desperately for something to hold on to and eventually grab onto the quilt, twisting the fabric up in her fists.

He smiles at that, concentrating on her pleasure. She continues to whimper and moan his name in desperation, mewling more and more.

Then, Kate observes that he is changing positions. He removes his slick fingers from her sopping wet cunt and wraps his strong hands around her thighs to make sure her legs are wide open for what will come next. The anticipation causes her to shiver as she feels his breath between her legs. 

Sebastian is already turned on, his erection straining against his shorts and dribbling in a liquid plea, but he cannot wait to make Kate reach a breaking point, to see her unravel and give in to the chaos he is thrilled to provide. He wants to make her feel so good that she will never desire any other man but him. With that goal in mind, he starts to slowly kiss and lick her inner thighs, moving his lips and tongue everywhere, worshiping every centimeter of her skin, guided by her moans and cries. He loves hearing her this way - it is so satisfying and maddening at the same time. 

Kate does her best to rid herself of her nerves, trying to get out of her head and simply feel, just like he said earlier. Then, Sebastian licks a long, lingering stripe through the center of her folds, causing her to cry out and her eyes to widen. His hands bruisingly hold her legs open as he licks and kisses her wet pussy.

“Oh, my gods…” she whines at the long, slow line his tongue traces, straining against his grip and squirming in delight. Then, he moves to flick his tongue over her clit. Almost instantly, her hips buck and her back arches. She cries out his name.

“You’re so wet, Kate. You taste so good… so sweet…” Sebastian moans out between long tongue swipes over her cunt, lapping up her nectar.

Kate continues to whimper as he gives open-mouthed kisses to her pussy. Her whimpers are replaced with gasps as she feels his tongue at her entrance, pushing in slowly. He moves his tongue in and out, mimicking what his fingers did earlier, noisily drinking in her slick arousal as though it is the secret potion for immortality. Kate throws her head back, moaning his name over and over like a chant to the gods.

He moves his head to the side to take a breath and tell her how bloody beautiful she is like this, all laid out for him. Then, he returns to her cunt and places his lips around her clit, sucking gently.

“Oh, fuck!” Kate cries out, shouting. 

Sebastian removes his arm from one of her thighs, plunging his fingers into her depths as his tongue and mouth simultaneously work on her sensitive nub. Kate can’t help it - she begins to writhe about, so many extraordinary feelings invading her body all at once. The sounds she makes are unfamiliar and new even to her as Sebastian brings her to a high she has never achieved before. She is an absolute mess as he sucks and licks and even slurps down there. 

Kate’s face is beet red as she shouts out in pleasure, looking down to see only his thick brown hair, his freckled forehead beaded with sweat, his focused dark eyes. “Sebastian - oh, Merlin… I’m so close…”

Spurred on by her admission, Sebastian’s fingers push deeper and harder, moving in tandem with his mouth. He licks tight circles around her clit, then flicks his tongue again. She is completely lost to the most incredible feeling she has ever experienced - it is indescribable. Kate screams his name over and over as her walls contract around him. He continues to fuck her with his fingers even as her pussy tightens, eventually moving more and more slowly as she floats back to earth. She finally begins to settle down from her climax, panting, her breasts heaving.

Kate’s reaction was everything he wanted to hear and feel. Sebastian felt proud that he had made her feel desired and delicious as she was devoured for the very first time. He couldn’t help but grin.

“Was that good for you?” he asked. “Are you feeling good, Kate?”

Sebastian moves himself up to sit on the bed, looking down upon her naked body. He wipes his shining mouth, cheeks, and chin. He then kisses her lips before caressing her thighs softly.

She is dumbfounded, her mind still processing this turn of events. “I - I don’t even know what to say, Sebastian!” Kate starts to laugh, a tingling sensation enveloping her body. “I’ve never felt like that before - never! No one has ever been that good to me before.” She is still trying to catch her breath as he lays down on the bed beside her, turning to look at her face. She does the same, rolling to her side and noticing a wet spot on his shorts, where he is still rock hard and straining to be free of the confines of the thin fabric.

“I’m glad that you are feeling so wonderful,” he beams, now caressing her cheek.

Sebastian’s eyes twinkle as he smiles. He moves his head closer to Kate’s. He placed a finger under her chin so that he could kiss her deeply. In a tender, gentle tone, he says, “We are going to make each other very, very happy, Kate. I can already tell.” Then, with a cheeky grin, he leans in, and with a low voice, adds, “I hope you know we aren’t done yet.”

[actress4him]

March Trope-A-Thon Day 2

I think Brumaria deserve a bit of fluff, too, after everything I’ve put them through (and will soon be putting them through!) lately.

As always, Bruno belongs to the fabulous @painful-pooch

Shadow of Death Masterlist

Fandom: Original Work

Prompt: Sunny Days

Contains: romance

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Na seil sal na terreva briciet debas

Shadows of passing clouds flicker behind her eyelids. A gentle breeze stirs the long grass, and the tips of the blades tickle her bare arms. Somewhere nearby, a small mammal is hiding, watching her, and an ant traverses her skirt like it’s a mountain. 

Na seil na plaumet vernas vocriar

The sun is warmer than it’s been in months. Winter is passing, spring is upon the land. Today, for the first time, she’s able to shed her extra layers and bask in the rays, soaking them into her skin. 

Na seil na Vaya calechytar e duan’a Vima

Footsteps approach, but they’re familiar ones so she doesn’t move. The small animal - a hare, most likely, by the way it moves - darts away, still hidden in the grasses. 

“What are you doing?” Bruno’s voice is full of fond amusement.

“Lying in the sun.” 

“I can see that.” There’s a pause, then he drops down to sit by her side. “We’ve had a lot of rain and clouds lately, hm?”

She hums in agreement, still not opening her eyes or moving a muscle. 

Silence falls, broken only by the rustling of the leaves and grass. “The sun does feel good,” he comments eventually. “It’s nice to actually stop and enjoy it.”

“The sun gives…” There isn’t really a word for it in Common. “Life energy,” she settles on. “It invigorates. Everything that the sun touches thrives.” She lets out a content sigh. “I feel closer to the earth on days the sun is shining.”

To a human, she probably sounds ridiculous. And even if he understands more about the Vaya than most humans, he still knows she’s only half. He knows that she has no real magic. She probably sounds like she’s stretching for reasons to be close to her people, imagining feelings that aren’t there, but what she feels is real, even if it’s nothing like what a full Vaya would experience.

Instead of pointing any of that out, he shifts, stretching out in the grass next to her, his arm brushing hers. “I’m glad you’re taking the time to soak it in, then. It gives me more energy, too. Though…” He yawns dramatically. “Right now it kind of makes me want to take a nap.”

Kamaria laughs quietly, and the conversation falls away. Time becomes meaningless as they lie there, side by side, letting their skin warm. Bruno rolls over to face her, dropping a soft kiss on her shoulder and running his fingers slowly through her hair. 

“Did you know that you look absolutely gorgeous lying there?” he whispers after a while.

Her ears heat rapidly, and it has nothing to do with the sun. “Shut up,” she mumbles.

“I’m serious. You’re always beautiful, but I think you’re right about the…life energy. I can see it in the way that you’re glowing right now.”

She finally moves, turning her head to face him and blinking open her eyes. He’s staring at her with a look of adoration on his face that she doesn’t know how to process or handle, much like his compliments. 

Instead of responding, she makes an attempt at turning it around on him. “Your eyes are reflecting the color of the sky. They’re…incredibly bright blue right now.” They’re stunning, is what they are, but that doesn’t quite roll off her tongue. 

Thankfully, he seems to recognize what she really means by her awkward phrasing, his face lighting up with a smile. “Maybe the life energy is working for me, too.”

She laughs again. Before meeting Bruno, she’d never thought laughing this often would ever be a possibility for her. She’d never laughed at all.

Reaching out, she finds his hand and laces her fingers through his. “Maybe so.”

[dreams-and-drabbles]

𝓟𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓸𝓶 🎭 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰

ꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴀʀʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴜ (Parson belongs to @originalcharaycters / @plushiesssforcrying and Drake belongs to @anaxnee / @anaxocs …)

Drake couldn’t recall a day that he hadn’t heard her voice—

Any and every time he fell asleep, she was there—

Singing.

Ever since his childhood, he’d been subjected to the haunting melody…

It used to make him mad, too.

He’d absolutely hated hearing that song over and over again.

Now, though—

It was strangely comforting to him.

So much had changed in his life, yet— She was still there.

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It all started in the summer.

The air was thick, and it hung heavy, leaving those unfortunate enough to be outside saturated in sweat. Drake was one of those unfortunate people, the P.E coach was in a particularly enthusiastic mood.

Sometimes, Drake hoped Crowley would be gracious enough to talk to Coach Vargas— This wasn’t exercise, it was torture, but whatever-

After the twelfth lap, as embarrassing as it was to admit—

He passed out.

He wasn’t the only one, either, so it’s not like he was weak or anything!!!

He thrived on heat, but even for him—

That day, the warmth was unbearable.

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She was singing that song again, and upon second glance, she looked rather familiar…

Drake sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Why do you always sing the same thing?” He grumbled, not really expecting an answer.

It was a dream, after all—

Always the same as las—

“A good song is a good song, no matter how often someone sings it.”

Drake gaped, his eyes flying open in surprise.

“You speak!!!”

He exclaimed, his tone laden with shock.

The girl rolled her eyes, and Drake studied her face for a moment, his brows furrowed.

“Why wouldn’t I be able to speak? Obviously, I’m capable of speech, given I sing…”

She—

She had a point.

Drake gnawed the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“Fine, then. Can I have your name, Miss Mysterious Singer?”

The girl smiled at him sweetly, and Drake’s cheeks burned—

She was cute—

“No.”

SHE WAS SO UNCUTE !!!!

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He woke to the sound of yelling.

Coach Vargas was getting told off by the castle’s maid, who didn’t appreciate the extra mess.

He stood up, glancing at the blue haired woman, and the muscular coach, before flashing a peace sign, and leaving—

He’d rather not get in the middle of that —

The next class was fortunately, far less taxing— It was just History, with Professor Trein.

He could probably nap, actually—

Trein’s class wasn’t hard.

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“Shouldn’t you be studying right now?”

The girl asked, and Drake was thrown off by the question.

“Shouldn’t you be singing right now? You know, instead of asking me about school n stuff—“

The girl’s cheeks went crimson and before he knew it, one of his cheek’s matched—

Maybe, he deserved that, but before he could decide if he did or not—

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He was woken by a loud meow, and it was with much irritation, that he met the gaze of Lucius, the professor’s familiar.

“Mr. Redhood. Would you care to answer question three?”

Drake stared at the Professor blankly, before frantically rushing to open his book—

The professor sighed, his features twisted in exasperation.

“If you are feeling unwell, then I suggest you go see the Nurse. I did hear about the disaster that was P.E today. I would also recommend you icing that cheek of yours.”

Drake nodded, his expression falling in confusion—

Ice his cheek…?

Wait!! That would mean !!!

“Thank you, professor.”

Professor Trein nodded, waving Drake off in a clear dismissal.

Drake fought back his grin, allowing it to slip on his face, only after he was out of the classroom.

The Nurse let him lay down, which was just perfect—

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“You’re real!!!” He shouted, pointing at the girl.

She raised a brow, her expression unimpressed.

“Congratulations. Your deductive abilities are astounding.”

He frowned, crossing his arms in irritation. “Oh, come on!!! Don’t be like that!!! I’ve thought you were a figment of my imagination for years!!”

The girl snorted, rolling her eyes, as she gave him a glare without any real heat behind it—

“Yes, well— You only just bothered to speak to me, so that’s kind of on you. Not only that, but the first thing you did was question my taste in music. Forgive me, if I’m not exactly thrilled.”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, offering her an apologetic smile, as that was all true—

“Sorry, yeah? When you phrase it like that… I sound kinda like a jerk.”

To his surprise, she shook her head, a small smile forming on her face. “Not a jerk, no— Just an idiot.”

His brow twitched.

“I think I’d rather be mean than stupid.”

She shrugged.

“Not everyone gets what they want in life.”

He frowned, his expression falling some—

“Yeah… You’re right.”

The girl looked up at him, after that, her expression softening some.

“Hey, I was ju—“

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The nurse woke him up, telling him that classes for the day were over, and he frowned.

That was a bit disappointing…

He was sure, he was about to get an apology or something like that!!!

It was with great disappointment that he returned to Diasmonia’s dormitory. He entered his room, and flopped onto the bed, hoping that he’d fall asleep—

He didn’t.

He’d probably slept too much throughout the day or something.

That was so irritating!

He opted to pass the time scrolling through Magicam—

Huh..? He got a follower?

…Parson…

Hmm.

He clicked follow back, and his expression fell—

This account is private: request to follow ?

He pressed ‘yes’ , his interest piqued—

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“Welcome back, Snoozles.”

Drake’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, and he brought a hand to his chest in mock offence.

“Snoozles?! Man, what did I do to deserve this?!”

Her lips twitched and his heart soared at the shift in her expression.

She’d almost smiled !!!

“Hmm, let’s think. Ah, yes. Miss Mysterious Singer…”

Drake rolled his eyes, gesturing to her teasingly. “Well you refused to tell me your name, sooo—!

Her eyes widened, and she averted her gaze, her cheeks tinged pink.

“Oh, I did… Alright, fine. My name is—“

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Drake swore when he was woken up, earning a surprised chortle from Lilia.

“Ufufu? Good dream, I take it? You wouldn’t wake for anything..”

Drake’s cheeks warmed at Lilia’s jest, and he shrugged in response.

“Um… Kind of, yeah.”

His phone buzzed from its spot on his bed, and man—

He wished he could just melt into the floor!!!

This was awkward as hell…

Lilia chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

“Ah, to be young again. Get ready, it won’t be good if you’re late, and… I have a feeling you may want to check your phone.”

Lilia gave him a knowing smile, before leaving the dorm—

Drake stared after him for a moment in confusion, before sighing, and glancing at his phone—

Parson has accepted your request.

[✉︎ One new message !!!]

Parson: Hey, Snoozles. It looks like our conversation got cut short— You go to NRC, right? Meet me at the field for flying lessons. BEFORE CLASS.

Drake reread the text, suddenly feeling very awake. He hurried to get ready, leaving the dorms in a rush to get to the field in time—

There was no way he’d be late.