#still not QuiTE capturing her essence '-.-

[limegreenbunny]

jINXtober!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Day 3!!!

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[navybrat817]

The man spread. 🤤

(Also the face he's making....)

(Also, hi! ❤️)

Hi, lovely! You know I couldn't resist doing something for Titan and Starshine for you!

Photogenic

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You love one of the photos Roxy took of Bucky, but he isn't having it.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, kissing, established relationship, college love, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)

A/N: Another small ficlet for Titan and Starshine.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the lovely @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If there was one thing your roommate took seriously, it was her photography. It wasn’t just Roxy’s major, but her way of expressing herself. So when she asked for your opinion on the photos she took of Bucky and Steve, you answered as honestly and diplomatically as possible. You selected the ones you thought captured the project’s essence in the best possible way. You also reminded her that you weren’t a photographer, so your word shouldn’t hold a lot of weight.

She disagreed.

“I still don’t get why you asked for help. I don’t have a keen eye the way you do and I can barely take a photo on my phone,” you said, having to look away from one of the images of Bucky that seemed to stare right at you.

Though it was just a picture, it was like he knew you downplayed yourself and was trying to figure out why. He loved reminding you on your off days that you were one of the brightest students on campus. The compliments usually sent a wave of heat through your body, especially because he stated them unprompted and meant every word.

Roxy playfully rolled her eyes. “You know you don’t have to be a photographer to have a good eye. I not only value your opinion as my roommate, but also as Bucky’s girlfriend. You even managed to stay impartial, so give yourself a pat on the back.”

A laugh bubbled up as you nodded in agreement. While you did stare more at Bucky’s photos than Steve’s, your heart racing with each one that Roxy laid out, you choose an even amount between the two. It was only fair.

“Thank you for asking. I’m glad I could help,” you said. It meant a lot that she wanted your opinion on the finalized product,

“Me, too. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me to throw Steve’s photos in the garbage,” she joked, carefully looking over one of the images of him hitting a punching bag. “I’m impressed.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, Steve’s just as photogenic as Bucky,” you pointed out as her eyebrows shot up. “Okay, almost as photogenic.”

Steve was admittedly one of the most gorgeous men on campus. The blonde haired, blue eyed Adonis with the kind yet almost reserved smile turned many heads. So did Bucky. Two men who looked like a couple of heartbreakers from a glance, but were far from it.

“The camera really does love them,” Roxy stated, chewing her bottom lip as she scanned the images again with a careful eye. After a moment, she smiled from ear-to-ear. “I am so getting an A.”

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. And the fact that she had such a tough time choosing which images to share when she normally had no problem doing so showed just how many good ones she had at her disposal.

There was one shot of Bucky, however, that she had no problem removing from the film hanger and handing to you to keep for yourself.

He had his powerful thighs spread and wasn’t quite biting his lip, but there was something irresistibly sexy about the pose.

What were you thinking about, Titan?

“Not that I don’t love me some manspreading, because I do, that wasn’t exactly the look that I was going for,” she joked, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you smile so wide your cheeks ached. “What exactly did you say to get him to pose like that?”

“Me? I didn’t say anything,” you smiled, ignoring Roxy’s knowing look as you glanced through the rest of the photos once more. At least, you didn’t think you said anything.

She didn’t believe that for a second. “You act so innocent, yet weren’t you warming his cock when he-”

“Hey, weren’t there supposed to be some photos of Bucky and I together?” You casually cut her off as you pressed your thighs together, wishing your boyfriend was there at that moment.

When Bucky pulled you into his lap during the shoot, you tried to keep your hands to yourself. It didn’t stop the two of you from kissing when Roxy instructed you to. Not that you needed any additional prompting. Bucky had the most kissable lips you ever had the pleasure of feeling against your own.

Your roommate smirked a little. “Oh, I have those tucked away so I can give them to you together,” she said, nudging you toward the door when your phone went off. She must’ve spotted that “Titan” popped up on the screen. “Go. Thanks again. Make good choices. Don’t let him impregnate you, but let him give you all the orgasms you deserve. We’ll allow those.”

“You’re ridiculous in the best way,” you giggled, making sure you had your keys and the photo. While neither you nor Bucky were ready for a family, it didn’t embarrass you in the least that Roxy encouraged the physical side of your relationship with him.

“Don’t forget to show him that photo!”

“I won’t forget!” you promised, smiling as you left and read Bucky’s message.

“Waiting downstairs, Starshine.”

“Be right there,” you messaged back, a skip in your step as you went to greet him outside of your building.

You found yourself staring into the depth of Bucky’s steel eyes as he stood a few feet in front of the door. Tall, athletic, and somehow yours, he managed to stand out in his jeans and t-shirt. Or maybe he stood out to you because he was your guy.

“There she is,” he warmly smiled as you walked toward him.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about your casual outfit before you remembered there was no need. Bucky had seen you in the mornings without makeup and still called you beautiful. “Here I am,” you smiled.

He nodded toward your right hand. “What’s that?”

“One of the photos Roxy took. She has others to share with us later,” you answered, holding it up to show him. His eyes narrowed as he stared at it, but gave nothing else away to show if he liked it or not. “But she said I can keep this.”

He pushed a hand back through his hair before he tried to take it from your hand. “Burn it,” he ordered.

That wasn’t the reaction you expected and it made you giggle. “Burn it? I will do no such thing,” you said, moving backward as he advanced on you. “Why should I get rid of this?”

“Because it’s a terrible picture of me,” he huffed.

He’s adorable.

“Not to stroke your ego since you’re acting a little vain, but you’re extremely photogenic. I don’t think you can take a bad photo,” you told him, taking another step back. “I’m keeping this forever because it’s very alluring.”

“There are plenty of other photos you can keep,” he argued as you held the picture out of reach again. His nostrils flared and it took everything in you not to giggle again before he frowned. “Did you say I look alluring?”

Wait, does he really think he looks bad? He’s James Buchanan Barnes. A god among men.

“Bucky Barnes, my Titan, yes. You’re sexy and enticing and I never thought I’d see you worked up over a picture that isn't bad to begin with,” you teased, almost jumping when your back hit the building door. It gave him the perfect opportunity to box you in with his hands, a rush of heat going through your body as he brought his face close to yours. “Do you honestly think you look bad? Because you don’t. Not to me.”

He brought his hand over to cradle your cheek and leaned in until his forehead touched yours. “I just wanna look good for you,” he admitted in a small voice.

It was almost embarrassing how wide your eyes got, so used to his confidence that you forgot that he sometimes had off days, too. Your heart ached to see his self-assurance shake for even a moment and you wondered if it was how he felt when you spoke negatively about yourself. It put things in perspective when you thought of it like that.

“You do. You always look good. I’m more attracted to you every day. To your looks, your brain, and your heart. You’re incredible,” you assured him, in no hurry to move away from the door. “And just like you remind me of how incredible you think I am, I’ll do the same for you.”

“You think my brain is attractive?” He asked, his usual smile back on his face as you nodded. You knew that was how happy you looked when he chased any of your insecurities away. “I sounded crazy, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn't," you said, putting a hand over his. "You sounded human."

“Thank you for making me feel better,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours as your heart pounded. “But I still think you should burn it.”

“Not a chance,” you smiled before his mouth covered yours.

Swept up in Bucky’s kiss, you both missed the fact that your TA was mere feet away, watching and wishing that it was him that you were kissing instead.

And if he has his way, you will.

Hmm. I wonder who the TA is. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Benedict Bridgerton with wife reader. With stop being so pretty/handsome.” “You stop being so pretty/handsome!” Thanks!! :))

beautiful

benedict bridgerton x fem wife reader

Benedict Bridgerton was in the drawing room, a mess of papers scattered across the mahogany table. His easel stood nearby, a canvas half covered in the beginnings of a vibrant landscape. He had been at it for hours, completely absorbed in his art, when the door creaked open and Y/N stepped in, carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

"You’ve been in here all morning," Y/N chided gently, setting the tray down on a clear corner of the table. "You must be famished."

Benedict looked up, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of his wife. "I hadn't realized the time," he admitted, rising from his chair and stretching his stiff limbs. "But now that you mention it, I am quite hungry."

As he approached, Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. His dark curls were tousled, and there was a smudge of paint on his cheek, adding to his roguish charm. She felt her heart skip a beat, as it often did when she looked at him.

"You have paint on your face," she said, reaching up to wipe it away with her thumb. "And you still manage to look devastatingly handsome."

Benedict caught her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers. "You stop being so pretty," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "It's terribly distracting."

Y/N laughed, the sound light and musical. "You stop being so handsome," she retorted. "It's not fair."

They stood there for a moment, simply enjoying each other's presence. Benedict's thumb brushed over her knuckles, his touch warm and reassuring. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I suppose we're both cursed, then," he whispered.

"Cursed with beauty," Y/N agreed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "What a dreadful fate."

Benedict chuckled, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Indeed. Now, tell me about your morning. What mischief have you been up to while I’ve been locked away with my paints?"

"Oh, the usual," Y/N said airily, resting her head against his chest. "A bit of reading, a walk in the garden. I did have an interesting conversation with Eloise about her latest literary endeavor."

"Ah, Eloise and her books," Benedict mused. "She’s always up to something, isn’t she?"

"Yes, she is," Y/N said fondly. "But enough about my morning. I want to hear about your painting. Show me what you’ve been working on."

Benedict led her to the easel, where the canvas stood proudly displaying the beginnings of a lush countryside scene. The colors were vibrant, the strokes confident and expressive. Y/N marveled at the way he captured the essence of nature with such skill.

"It’s beautiful," she breathed. "You have such a talent, Benedict."

He shrugged modestly, though her praise clearly pleased him. "It’s still a work in progress. But I’m glad you like it."

"I love it," she corrected, her eyes meeting his. "Just as I love you."

Benedict’s expression softened, and he cupped her face in his hands. "And I love you, Y/N. More than words can say."

Their lips met in a tender kiss, the world around them fading away. In that moment, there was only the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of their love and the promise of countless beautiful moments yet to come.

When they finally pulled apart, Benedict pressed his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers. "Stay with me," he murmured. "Let’s enjoy this day together."

"Of course," Y/N whispered, her heart full. "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be."

And so they spent the rest of the day side by side, painting, talking, and simply being together. The hours slipped by unnoticed, filled with laughter and light. In the comfort of each other's presence, they found a joy that was as boundless as their love, and the world outside seemed a little brighter, a little more beautiful.

As the afternoon sun cast a golden glow through the windows, they decided to take a break and stroll through the garden. The summer flowers were in full bloom, filling the air with their sweet fragrance. Benedict held Y/N’s hand as they walked, his thumb gently stroking her palm.

"Do you remember our first walk in this garden?" Y/N asked, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips.

"How could I forget?" Benedict replied. "I was utterly captivated by you. Still am, in fact."

"You were so nervous," Y/N teased. "You could barely string a sentence together."

"Well, you were and still are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen," Benedict said earnestly. "It was quite overwhelming."

Y/N laughed, the sound like music to Benedict’s ears. "And now look at us," she said. "Walking hand in hand, perfectly at ease."

"Perfectly in love," Benedict added, bringing her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

They continued their stroll, enjoying the serenity of the garden and the simple pleasure of each other's company. As they rounded a corner, they came upon a secluded bench beneath a large oak tree. Benedict led Y/N to it, and they sat down, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above them.

"You’ve always been my muse, you know," Benedict said softly, gazing at Y/N. "Every brushstroke, every color, every canvas it’s all inspired by you."

"That’s a lot of pressure," Y/N joked, but her eyes were shining with affection.

"Not at all," Benedict said. "You make it effortless. You bring so much joy and light into my life. I couldn’t imagine my art, or my life, without you."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. "And you, Benedict, have filled my life with such beauty and love. Every day with you is a blessing."

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. It was a kiss that spoke of love, of commitment, and of the future they would continue to build together.

As the day turned to dusk, they made their way back to the house, hand in hand. The drawing room, once filled with the solitary pursuit of art, now felt warmer, more alive. They settled on the settee, sharing the tea and biscuits Y/N had brought earlier.

"Shall we make this a tradition?" Y/N suggested. "A day dedicated to us, to spending time together, no matter what."

"I’d like that very much," Benedict agreed. "A day just for us, every week."

"Good," Y/N said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Because I love our moments together. They’re my favorite part of every day."

"And mine," Benedict said, wrapping his arm around her. "Always and forever, Y/N."

They sat there in comfortable silence, watching as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky. Their hearts were full, their spirits content. In each other, they had found a love that was not only beautiful but also enduring a love that would see them through all of life’s challenges and triumphs.

And as they drifted off to sleep that night, wrapped in each other’s arms, they knew that they were not just blessed with beauty, but with something far more precious: a deep, abiding love that would last a lifetime

[nayziiz]

One Night in Miami | LN4

Summary: An eventful night with a close friend turns Lando’s world upside down when he’s forced to confront his true feelings about her. As they return to normal, he cannot seem to forget their time together and neither can she. Will they find each other once again?

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Renn)

Warnings: Smut, a lot of angst, fluff

Author's note: A little context around this series, if I may. I started writing this on 24/04/24, before Lando's Miami win. All the fours in the date - IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN A SIGN, is all I'm saying. Anyway, as always, please send through your feedback, suggestions, or requests!

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1 - Miami 2023

Lando had invited all of his closest friends and the Quadrant team out to Miami for the Miami Grand Prix. The city buzzed with anticipation, the atmosphere electric with the excitement of the upcoming race. The streets were alive with the hum of engines and the vibrant energy of fans from all over the world.

For Lando and his friends, it was more than just a race. It was a week of fun, filming content, and partying until the sun rose over the glistening Miami skyline. Amongst the attendees was Pietra’s best friend, Renn. When Pietra moved to London, Renn was the first person she met and they instantly became good friends. It was a natural introduction to Max, Pietra’s boyfriend, and then Lando, Max’s best friend. Lando and Renn were quite literally cut from the same cloth in terms of their humour and banter. There was natural chemistry from the get-go between them.

The sun was setting over Miami as the group gathered at a beachfront bar, the warm breeze carrying the sound of laughter and music. Lando, with his infectious grin, was in the centre of it all, regaling everyone with stories and jokes. Renn, standing beside him, matched his energy effortlessly, their banter a seamless dance that had everyone in stitches.

“Remember that time we tried to film that prank video and ended up getting chased by security?” Lando said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“How could I forget? I still have a scar on my knee from hiding in that hedge!” Renn laughed, shaking her head. Pietra, sitting nearby with Max, watched the exchange with a knowing smile.

“You two are a dangerous combination,” she said, raising her glass in a mock toast. “But I have to admit, it’s entertaining.”

The days in Miami were a blur of excitement. The group spent their mornings filming content for their respective channels, capturing the essence of the city and the thrill of the Grand Prix. They interviewed drivers, explored the paddock, and even managed to get a few laps in on the track.

In the afternoons, they lounged by the pool or explored Miami’s vibrant neighbourhoods, soaking in the culture and cuisine. Renn and Lando often found themselves paired up, whether it was trying out the latest food trucks or challenging each other to a game of beach volleyball. The week culminated with the much-anticipated Miami Grand Prix. However, the race did not go according to plan for Lando or McLaren. Technical issues plagued the car, and despite his best efforts, Lando couldn’t climb the ranks. He finished far lower than he had hoped, and the frustration was evident as he stepped out of the car.

In the garage, Lando was a mix of frustration and devastation. His usually bright demeanour was clouded with disappointment. Renn, always the one to lighten the mood, tried to joke around, but Lando was not feeling it. Sensing his need for support, she shifted from humour to empathy, offering a listening ear and comforting presence.

Throughout the afternoon and early evening, they had a few moments alone. Lando vented to her about his frustrations with the car, his feeling of inadequacy as a driver, and the pressure he felt to perform. Renn listened intently, offering small touches on his arm, reassuring words, and a calm presence.

Deciding to forget the entire race weekend and write it off as one to learn from and move past, Lando and the group decided to go out clubbing. The vibrant Miami nightlife beckoned, promising an escape from the day’s frustrations. The city’s pulsating energy was the perfect antidote to their subdued spirits. They headed to one of Miami’s hottest clubs, a place known for its electric atmosphere and celebrity sightings. As they entered, the thumping bass of the music enveloped them, and the flashing lights painted the scene in vibrant colours. Lando led the way, determined to let loose and shake off the negativity of the race.

On the dance floor, the group immersed themselves in the music, moving to the rhythm and letting the beat drive away their worries. Lando and Renn danced together, their chemistry undeniable as they laughed and moved in sync. For a while, the frustrations of the day melted away, replaced by the sheer joy of the moment. At the bar, they ordered rounds of exotic cocktails, toasting to friendship and resilience. Lando, his spirits lifted by the music and the company, found himself smiling and laughing more freely. Renn stayed close, her presence a steady source of comfort.

Later, as the night deepened and the club continued to buzz with life, Lando and Renn found themselves on the rooftop terrace, looking out over the city. The Miami skyline was a breathtaking sight, a sea of lights stretching out into the horizon.

“I needed this,” Lando admitted, leaning on the railing. “Just to forget about today, even if it’s just for a little while.”

“We all need to let go sometimes. You’ll come back stronger, Lando. I know it,” Renn nodded, her gaze fixed on the distant lights.

Despite her reassurance, the disappointment in his race result lingered. Lando couldn't shake the frustration gnawing at the back of his mind. As the group continued to revel in the club’s intoxicating atmosphere, one drink led to the next and the next. The flashing lights and pulsing music blurred together, creating a haze that Lando eagerly embraced, hoping to drown out the nagging sense of failure.

Renn stayed by his side, matching him drink for drink, her laughter and energy unwavering. She knew he was still struggling and wanted to be there for him, even if it meant getting a little too drunk herself. Their friends cheered them on, oblivious to the deeper emotions at play. At some point, the decision to leave was made - perhaps unspoken but mutually understood. They stumbled out of the club, giggling and leaning on each other for support. The cool night air hit them, a stark contrast to the club’s warm, enclosed chaos. They ordered an Uber, collapsing into the backseat in a fit of laughter, still trying to keep the party going.

As the car sped through Miami’s neon-lit streets, the city’s energy seemed to pulse in time with their still-racing hearts. They exchanged slurred stories and jokes, but beneath the surface, Renn could see the tension in Lando’s eyes. The alcohol had numbed the sharp edge of his disappointment but hadn’t erased it. When they reached the hotel, they managed to navigate the lobby with a mix of stealth and stumbling, trying to keep their giggles under control. Renn’s hand was a steadying presence on Lando’s arm, guiding him towards the elevator and up to his room.

Inside, the room was dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant noise they had left behind. Renn flicked on a lamp, casting a soft, warm glow across the room. Lando collapsed onto the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumping as the weight of the day settled back onto him. The party, the drinks, and the laughter had been a temporary reprieve, but now reality crept back in. Renn watched him closely, her own drunken haze giving way to concern. She could see he was still not himself, the disappointment etched in his features despite his attempts to mask it.

“Lan,” she said softly, sitting beside him and placing a hand on his back. “You don’t have to hold it all in.”

He looked at her, his eyes tired and a bit glassy from the alcohol.

“I just... I wanted this weekend to be different,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “I feel like I let everyone down.”

“You didn’t let anyone down. Things just didn’t go as planned. It happens. But it doesn’t define who you are or what you can do,” She shook her head, her hand rubbing gentle circles on his back.

“I know that, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m not good enough sometimes,” Lando sighed deeply, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“You are more than good enough. One bad race doesn’t change that. You’ve got so many people who believe in you, who see how incredible you are,” Renn moved closer, her hand shifting to hold his.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, the closeness providing comfort to them both. For a moment, they sat in silence, the room’s quietude enveloping them. The world outside continued its frenetic pace, but in this small bubble, they found solace in each other’s presence. The alcohol’s numbing effect was beginning to wane, but the warmth of Renn’s words and touch remained, helping to ease Lando’s troubled mind.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?” she asked, her voice soft with worry. Lando sighed, the weight of his emotions evident in his response. 

“No,” he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Not at all.”

Renn’s heart ached for him.

“Should I stay with you until you fall asleep?” she offered gently. He looked up at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.

“I’d like that,” Lando conceded.

The next moments were a blur of movement and quiet coordination. Lando stripped off his shirt, the sight of his toned torso briefly catching Renn’s attention. He then grabbed his sleep trunks and disappeared into the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, Renn began discarding the thousands of pillows that adorned the bed, creating a comfortable space for them to settle in. When Lando returned, he held out one of his shirts for her.

“Here, you can change out of that,” he said, gesturing to her sequined dress that shimmered under the soft light.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking the shirt with a grateful smile.

Renn went into the bathroom to change into the cool cotton shirt, a welcome relief from the constricting dress. It smelled faintly of him, a comforting blend of cologne and something uniquely Lando. When she emerged, she found Lando already in bed, looking slightly more at ease in his sleep trunks.

She slid into bed beside him, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. Without hesitation, Lando moved closer, laying on top of her, his head resting on her chest. The proximity was intimate, yet felt completely natural. She began brushing his hair back, twirling his curls between her fingers in a soothing rhythm.

They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and warm. Renn’s touch seemed to calm Lando, his breathing slowing as he relaxed against her. She could feel the tension leaving his body, replaced by a soft, sleepy tranquillity. Eventually, Lando looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers with a vulnerable intensity. Without a word, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, a gentle, heartfelt kiss that conveyed all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. Renn kissed him back, her fingers still tangled in his hair, her heart swelling with a mix of tenderness and affection. When they finally pulled apart, Lando rested his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Renn smiled, her hand caressing his cheek.

“Always,” she replied softly.

As the minutes passed, their quiet touching took on a different quality. It was still gentle, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something more intense. Lando’s hand began to move, tracing slow, deliberate paths up and down her side. His fingers grazed her ribs, slipped under the hem of the shirt she wore, and rested on the smooth skin of her hip.

Renn’s breath hitched slightly, her heart beating faster in response. She continued to twirl his curls, her other hand drifting to his back, where she traced light patterns with her fingertips. The tension between them grew, an unspoken understanding passing through their shared glances and touches.

Lando’s hand ventured further, moving up her inner thigh and over her underwear, pausing briefly at her hip bone before slipping under the shirt yet again. The sensation sent a shiver through Renn, her body reacting to his touch. She looked down at him, their eyes locking in a moment of mutual recognition. His fingers continued their exploration, brushing against the sensitive skin just below her ribs. Renn’s hand stilled in his hair, her breath catching as his touch sent sparks of sensation through her. The room seemed to grow warmer, the air thick with the tension building between them.

Slowly, Lando shifted, lifting himself slightly to look into her eyes. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. He leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened, fueled by the emotions they had been holding back. Renn responded eagerly, her hands sliding down his back, pulling him closer. Their kisses grew more urgent, a silent communication of their need for each other. Lando’s hands roamed under the shirt, finding the curves of her body and memorising every inch with his touch.

With a gentle but insistent tug, Lando pulled the shirt up and over her head, discarding it to the side. He paused to take in the sight of her, his eyes filled with admiration and desire. Renn reached up, cupping his face and pulling him back down for another deep, passionate kiss. While their kisses intensified, Lando’s hands continued their exploration, his touch sending waves of pleasure through Renn. She arched into him, her body responding to his every movement. His mouth left hers, trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone, each touch igniting a new flame of sensation.

Renn’s hands were not idle either. She traced the lines of his muscles, her fingers memorising the feel of him. She slid her hands under the waistband of his sleep trunks, encouraging him to shed the last barrier between them. Lando complied, kicking off his trunks and returning his attention to her. She pushed her panties to the side before he pushed his tip through her folds. He moved slowly as he entered her, savouring each moment of contact. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, the warmth and closeness intensifying their connection.

The intensity between them surged, and suddenly they were fucking like prisoners who had just been released after a ten-year sentence. Their movements were frantic, fueled by a desperate need to feel each other fully. There was no room for hesitation; only raw, unfiltered desire. Lando's hands gripped her hips tightly as he thrust into her with a fervour that spoke of all the emotions he had bottled up throughout the day. Renn matched his intensity, her nails digging into his back as she arched against him, meeting each of his powerful thrusts with equal force.

Their breaths came in ragged gasps, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. The bed creaked under the strain of their passion, but they paid no mind. Every touch, every kiss was a release, a cathartic expression of everything they felt for each other. Lando's mouth found hers again, their kisses bruising and desperate. He moved faster, deeper, their shared rhythm driving them both to the edge. Renn cried out his name, her voice a mixture of pleasure and urgency, urging him on.

The tension built to a breaking point, their bodies trembling with the force of their connection. They came together in a shattering climax, their cries mingling as they clung to each other, riding out the waves of pleasure that crashed over them. Afterward, they lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and still trembling from the intensity of their lovemaking. Lando rested his head on Renn's chest, listening to the rapid beat of her heart as their breathing slowly returned to normal. It had been the first time something like that had happened between them. Sure, they shared a few kisses every so often when he would be gone for a few weeks, but nothing like that, never full blown, passionate lovemaking.

“Fuck,” Lando moaned, the tension gone from his body. He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to break their skin-to-skin contact, but he also wanted to clean her up after cumming inside her. Renn felt his hesitation and gently cupped his face.

“It's okay,” she whispered, smiling softly, her fingers brushing over his cheek. He nodded, kissing her tenderly before reluctantly pulling away.

“I'll be right back,” he promised, slipping off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

Renn watched him go, feeling a strange mix of contentment and vulnerability. The intensity of their lovemaking had left her breathless, but she also felt a deep sense of connection with Lando that went beyond physical pleasure. Lando returned with a warm, damp cloth and a look of tender concern on his face. He carefully cleaned her, his touch gentle and reverent. It was a quiet, intimate moment that spoke of his care and respect for her.

Once he was done, he discarded the cloth and slid back into bed beside her, pulling her close. They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence between them filled with unspoken emotions. The disappointment of the day was a distant memory, replaced by the warmth they had found in each other's arms.

[tamas-love]

（ 제목 ）MUSE.

PRESENT.⠀⟡​⠀in which, nishimura riki is one of the most famous japanese painters but the girl in his paintings isn't just anyone.

（ 니키 ） — pairing = fem!reader x yandere!riki ୨୧ warning = none ୨୧ wc = 421

a/n : yandere riki!, reblogs & likes are appreciated.. my amazing riki<3 this is one i recently wrote!!

click me! ↓

ㅤ𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈, one of the world's famous Japanese artist who was known for his unique yet beautiful paintings. Many of his beautiful paintings are displayed in prestigious galleries. His creations capture the essence of a beautiful, young woman, immortalized on canvas. However, what all these people didn't know was that this woman was real.

ㅤYou, his muse, find yourself in his art. A testament to the deep affection and perhaps a touch of obsession Riki holds for you. "You can lie on the couch, but be sure to show me your soft back.." Riki instructs as he gently adjusts the shirt you wore so your back shows enough to his liking.

ㅤ"Let me sketch you, my love." Riki's voice was so gentle that you almost forget you're handcuffed.. forced to stay with him, isolated in his house. It's not like he treated you badly, it was quite the opposite. He spoiled you, with affection and gifts, there were nights where he held you close. Whispering into your ear of how you 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 to him and 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 him.

  ㅤYou were his most valuable gem, his lucky charm. He was so obsessed with you, it was hard not to be. As you listen to him obediently, he presses a kiss to your lips before sitting behind the empty canvas, holding his palette which had different mixes of nude and mute colors. "Love, look at me."

ㅤRiki's voice was gentle, like always, except for the rare times when you tried running away. But now you knew better than to run away, and simply listened to him. You slowly look at him, and he smiles at you. "Good girl." He coos before beginning to paint the empty canvas with light strokes, the image in his head of how he'd dress you painted.

ㅤIn almost all his paintings with you, you only ever wore dresses. He loved seeing you wearing dresses, big dresses, small dresses, fancy dresses.. you could wear a garbage bag an he'd still love to look at you. Maybe it's her eyes.. Riki thought, but no.. it was really just his obsession.

© tamas-love on tumblr, © tamas-love on wattpad ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 126 }

john wayne.

ichigo kurosaki x fem.reader

notes: unedited; post lost agent arc, but pre thousand year blood war arc; may be a little canon divergent. a self indulgent story where the reader doesn't know whether she's afraid of him- or in love with him.

{ baby, he's got to be crazy | living like he's john wayne | always facing the world, a-chasing the girl | baby, he's got to be crazy }

there were moments where ichigo kurosaki absolutely intimidated and frightened you, and you did all you could to avoid him like the plague whilst spending your school years at karakura high.

in your eyes, ichigo was someone who always got into fights and had the appearance of the usual delinquent. his orange hair was difficult to ignore, seeming to capture the essence of a sunset itself. despite never once sharing a class with him, the times that you did pass by him, his features were always drawn up in a scowl.

sometimes, being in the same room with ichigo felt stifling. it was as though there was a power felt emanating from him, one that you couldn't quite explain or put a finger on. all you knew was that he was strong- much stronger than he let on.

as you walked through the hallways after finishing your club duties for the day, you cling to your bag while looking out the window. the skies were bathed in warm, gentle hues of the sunset, and the sight was so beautiful to you that you had to take a chance to stop and admire it.

while looking at the setting sun, your mind wanders to ichigo, feeling your heart twist a bit in anticipation while remembering the conversation you last had with your friends.

you recall a time when you hung out with your friends, orihime and tatsuki, simply studying for your respective exams when orihime cheerfully called out your name and asks, "ne, what do you think of kurosaki-kun?"

you look back at her with your eyes wide, "huh? why would you ask me about him all of a sudden?"

a strange expression crosses her features, but she simply shakes her head, appearing sheepish while placing a strand of her red hair behind her ear, "well, i was just wondering, that's all! it's just, you seem to be doing a lot to avoid him..."

you felt your cheeks turn warm in embarrassment, "i have not been avoiding him! w-well, not intentionally, at least." you cough, trying to hide how awkward you felt. you didn't think anyone would notice how you spent most of your high school years not interacting with ichigo at all, managing to reach your final year without a hitch.

"why? did that jerk do something to you?" tatsuki was quick to come to your defense, "you can tell me if that idiot did something to upset you, and i will gladly have a word with him."

you try to diffuse the situation, holding up your hands in protest while calming your friends down, "no please, tatsuki, there's no need to do anything to him! it's just... i don't know, something about him...scares me."

your friends remain silent, waiting for you to explain. you swallow thickly while running a hand through your own hair, "he hasn't done anything wrong, but sometimes, when he's near, i can feel his presence. there's something... foreboding about him, i guess. like, something that makes him not all... human."

the warmth felt against your cheeks becomes even more prominent, making you shake your head as you slapped both of your hands against them. "please, i'm sorry, don't tell kurosaki i said all of that. i know it makes no sense and-"

"no no, that's totally understandable! b-but still, kurosaki isn't that scary at all!"

"i agree with orihime, he's really a dummy who doesn't know how to act normally around people sometimes-"

"and he has a heart of gold, with his desire to protect everyone."

oddly enough, both orihime and tatsuki did their best to convince you that ichigo was just a normal guy with an unfriendly face, and you had to hold back your giggling, promising them that you'd try to speak to ichigo when the chance came up.

thinking back on it now, you kind of regretted your promise to them. something about ichigo made you so nervous, and you found that you couldn't think straight when he was around. you sigh and rest your head against the window, playing various scenarios of you greeting ichigo, just to see if you could do it or not.

"hey, are you okay?"

in the midst of your reverie, you freeze, hearing that familiar deep voice calling out to you. moving your head away from the window, you look to your right to see ichigo himself. he wore his usual school uniform while placing a hand within the confines of his pockets, his posture slightly slouched when he casually approaches you.

"are you feeling sick? do you need to go to the infirmary?"

you couldn't breathe, meeting with his brown eyes as you could see a softness in them you had never seen before. had he always looked this beautiful? and just why was your heart suddenly racing now?

whether it was out of fear, or something else, you couldn't say for sure.

when he was directly in front of you, you found that you lost all confidence, quickly apologizing to him with every intention of leaving him. your mind was a muddled mess, and you felt so flustered that you didn't know what to do.

you merely took two steps away from him when you felt something pulling you back, encircling your wrist as you were trapped against a lithe form and the wall.

ichigo's scowl was back, and he kept you against the wall. "are you afraid of me?"

you truly felt mortified at that moment, unable to say a word to him as you felt dizzy from his proximity. you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, and his body heat was seeping into you, making it harder for you to concentrate.

your heart was beating painfully out of your chest, and you couldn't say a word to him as you ended up looking away from him. ichigo ends up clicking his tongue, finally pushing himself away from you. with ichigo no longer pressing you up against the wall, you look at his steadily retreating form, not daring to move until he was out of your sight.

you waited for several minutes, remaining in the hallway while mentally berating yourself. why did you have to feel so weird when it came to him? what made you feel this way, and were you really afraid of him-

or was it something else?

you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn't realize just how low the sun was beginning to set. with a gasp, you take a hold of your bag and made a mad dash toward the exit, practically running home in hopes that nightfall wouldn't come.

your breathing was labored, with your footsteps pounding across the concrete streets of karakura town. all you wanted to do was go home and be alone with your thoughts, but something stops you from moving forward.

you halt your movements, frowning as you strained your ears to hear your surroundings. you swore that as you ran, something was following you.

blood was rushing through your ears as you could feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins, initiating your fight or flight response.

that's her...

a cruel voice echoes into the air, filling your veins with ice as you shakily take a step forward, feeling something ominous coming from behind you.

this has to be her... his heart.

if we destroy what is most important to him, we'll destroy his heart...

you gasp and tried to force your legs to move forward once more, now running across the empty streets of karakura when a slash was felt tearing through the fabric of your uniform. you whimper, looking behind you to see a thin slice of blood appearing on the side of your abdomen.

a sudden tremor was what ultimately brings you back down to your knees with a scream, the pain all but masked due to the anxiety and fear that was felt coursing through your veins. as you were looking forward, you were able to make out two, large fuzzy shadows. a skeletal mask hid their features, and you felt an all-consuming sense of despair coursing through you-

because this...this was how you were going to die.

the looming shadows were seen leaning down, and you could only bring yourself to close your eyes, awaiting for the painful death-

"NO! NOT HER!"

your throat becomes dry when you hear the sounds of his voice, forcing you to look up when you saw ichigo dressed in all-black while wielding a thin blade. the shadows face him, ready to attack when he brings his sword down on one of the shadows. it swiftly goes down in one hit while ichigo flows gracefully to the next shadow, not even giving it a single chance to reach you as he pierces through its mask.

a shrill cry echoes throughout the night, and your heart was still pounding with fear even as ichigo's body shielded you from the destruction of those shadow like creatures.

time slowed down to a crawl, and only when you could no longer see the outline of those shadows did you fall to your knees. your ears were ringing, and you found it hard to focus, unable to react even when ichigo was calling out your name.

a familiar warmth was felt enveloping you in a gentle embrace, and you found yourself falling back against a hard chest. your eyes were distant, unable to truly see ichigo. his frown was back, and you heard him let out a soft curse before leaning in closer to you, placing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss.

the sensation of his chapped lips against yours was what ultimately brings you back down to earth, grounding you as you responded eagerly to his kiss. with a soft sigh of his name, you allowed your lips to slot perfectly against his, threading your hands through his sunset colored hair while basking in his sudden kiss. as ichigo warms you, you no longer felt like gravity was the one grounding you, but rather it was him.

when he feels your response, ichigo pulls away from the kiss and smiles down at you. you feel the way the calloused pad of his thumb trace at your bottom lip, gaze achingly sweet when he asks, "are you okay?"

you could only manage a nod, making ichigo give you another one of his soft smiles when he stands back to his full height still holding you. "alright, let me take you home."

"wait...!" your voice comes out as hoarse due to your prior screams, and you had to wet your lips to get rid of the dryness felt against them. "i...i still feel scared... can i please stay with you...?"

the kindness was so evident in his gaze, and you found yourself wondering why you were so afraid of him in the first place. he simply tightens his hold on you, simply answering your pleas with a simple "yeah."

holding you close to his chest, ichigo ends up taking you somewhere safe, running with an almost inhuman speed towards the town park. the cold air was felt whipping through your hair, and you could do little but continue to cling to him whilst he ran. with the moon and stars now shining brightly in the sky, ichigo reaches the park and settles down against the plush grass while keeping you on his lap.

he says nothing, simply looking up at the sky while running his hands through your hair. meanwhile, you kept staring up at his beautiful features with a million questions running through your mind, leaving you feeling overwhelmed and speechless.

your name coming out from ichigo's lips in a soft spoken tone breaks you out of your thoughts, with you meeting his gaze once more. his brown eyes were gentle, and you could feel his thumb gracing at your cheeks in a tender caress.

"i'm glad that i was able to save you."

you felt your heart racing again, with your hands clinging to the front of his dark robe, "kurosaki...?"

he hums, brushing his lips against your head of hair, silently coaxing you to go on.

"d-do you... do you happen to... i mean, by any chance- do you like me?" you blurt out as quickly as possible, your words coming out as a bit rushed when you clench your eyes shut, feeling afraid of what his answer might be.

ichigo was silent for several seconds before he slowly begins speaking once more. "you know... a while back, when my old man was talking about how he and my mother met... he told me that my mother was like his sun- that she became the center of his entire universe. and i didn't understand it back then..."

you open your eyes, feeling ichigo tracing his lips against the shell of your ear. when you felt him nuzzling against your skin, the sensation being achingly sweet to you, was when he whispers, "but now, i finally understand it."

his large hand was felt on your chin, making you look up at him. "i always noticed you. you were close to inoue and arisawa, and there was always this desire i had to protect you... to shield you from all the dangers of the world."

"but you were afraid of me...and i didn't want to scare you anymore. yet at the same time, i didn't want to leave you alone. i never wanted you to get hurt or feel pain because of me."

ichigo's eyes narrow, and you could feel the back of his hand gracing at your cheek. "i guess what i'm trying to say is that... you've become the center of my universe... that you've always been the center of my universe."

your heart was bursting at the seams, finally filling with an unbidden happiness as you allowed you to realize the truth of your emotions-

perhaps deep down, you knew that he loved you, but was too shy or insecure to truly believe it. yet now, with ichigo's earnest expression and true confession, you felt a joy that was indescribable.

so instead of conveying how you felt for ichigo with words, you allowed your actions to reply back to his confession. with a whisper of his name, you lean up and allow your lips to meet with his in a sweet kiss, one that let him know just how much he had become the center of your own universe as well.

a.n. - 'john wayne' by cigarettes after sex is such a fitting song for ichigo kurosaki. writing this brought out so many good memories of all the daydreams i had about him when i was younger... 🥹 i miss him ♡ 

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[enriquemzn262]

Talking about anime, time to mention the shows I’m watching this season:

Dandadan

I remember trying the manga when it first came out, dropped it after the second chapter since I fucking hate high school shit, but the anime looked well animated and the intro kicks ass, so I gave it a second chance and hooooly shit, it’s really fucking good! The start is indeed sloppy, but once aliens and spirits make their debut, it’s all uphill from there!

Great animation, characters and fight scenes galore, plus a surprisingly heartfelt and tragic story in the seventh episode, 10/10 so far!

Ranma 1/2

I grew up with the OG series, so it holds a special place in my heart, and man if the remake hasn’t disappointed me in the slightest! Great animation, amazing music, the characters feel even more charming than before, and even Akane got toned down from her bitchy self I still clearly remember from way back when.

Apparently the adaptation is much closet to the manga than the OG series, hence why it has faster pacing and somewhat more mellowed characters, and after reading that that means that piece of shit happosai is no longer becoming a recurring nightmare, I can honestly say I’m even more excited for this one !

Dragon Ball Daima

I’m latino, if I don’t watch this I’ll be banned from ever enjoying arepas again… Naw, I’ve been watching Dragon Ball for basically all my life, so of course I have to watch this one, plus OG DB was always my favorite, and this one truly captures the essence of that story!

Also, since its kid Goku again, his stupidity, which Super turned up to 11 for no good reason, finally makes in-universe sense, so that’s another plus!

TsumaSho

What everyone, myself included, wrote off as yet another ultra degenerate anime, this time about a dead wife reincarnating as a 10-year okd child, turned out to be quite the wholesome, if ultimately tragic (especially after the last episode ) series about a broken family of a dad and an adult daughter slowly recovering from 10 years of grief and darkness after the said death wife AND mother comes back and basically tells them “time to get your shit together you stupid idiots”, which, they do.

The mom character is the best, as while she’s reconnecting with her old family, she has to deal with her new one in the form of a broken divorced mom who keeps unintentionally hurting her, all because her own home life was a living nightmare, while her love life is nothing but betrayals.

It sorta reminds me of the weird telenovelas I used to watch at a friend’s house, but in a good way, don’t let the weird premise drive you off, it is not perverted in the slightest!

And that’s about it! I tried another anime about a slime girl, dropped it one episode in (I didn’t like its humor), then another about a sentient robot arm thing, dropped it after the third episode (mainly because the tone was all over the place), and another about the fan of a magical girl accidentally becoming evil, kinda like THAT degenerate anime from the beginning of the year, only not degenerate, gave it a try because of that, turned out to be the most boring shit I’ve ever watched in a long while.

Honestly, this season has been weak in terms of number of good shows, but man the ones that are actually good are FANTASTIC!

[etheries1015]

Sorry, I overread it (It's currently 10pm where I live, I've been up since 4am, and my anxiety is kicking. Requesting things from people I never requested before is hard >.<)

May I request Riddle, Kalim, Idia and Malleus reacting to finding out their crush is trans-masc? Either by reader telling them or them finding out by accident

Never apologize for asking questions and sending asks! Please take care of yourself, get lots of rest, water, and sustenance <3

Finding out you're trans-masc

Featuring: Riddle, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

WARNINGS (please read): I'm a cis woman and I CANNOT stress enough that I may not be able to portray this as well as someone who actually identifies as such! I did do research ahead of time to make sure I try my very best to capture the essence of someone who identifies as trans-masc, but everyone's experiences are different. If I, in ANY way shape, or form, used incorrect terminology/representation or mistakenly offended anyone, please educate me so that I become more knowledgeable and can build my understanding. Other than that, I hope I did well in writing this for you to enjoy <3 Thank you for your time and for the request <3

Riddle

The topic came up during the first time you had gone to an Unbirthday party. Being misgendered by Riddle, you spoke up gently to inform him of your disposition.

"I'm...well, I don't use She/her pronouns." You shrugged. Riddle pursed his lips in frustration at his own confusion, he hadn't met someone falling under the LGBTQ umbrella before, he was incredibly sheltered and closed-minded for a long time due to his mother's teachings.

"I see..." Riddle nodded, "Then, please explain it to me so that I may not make the same mistake twice." He was eager to learn more about people and their experiences, especially learning about someone he found himself becoming more and more attached to.

Spends an entire night reading upon such topics- he was very quick to adapt and correct people around you whenever he found they did not address you properly.

"Does it bother you?" You had asked him once out of pure curiosity, and his response was with furrowed eyebrows and confusion.

"And why should it? It does not matter what you identify as. You are still (y/n). You are not your gender, and not your sex. You are..." He blushed deeply, you smiling to urge him on. You knew about his crush on you, of course, yet he seemed to be far too shy to admit it yet.

"You're..." He hesitated, "failing this class. G-get back to studying! quit getting distracted with silly questions or it's off with your head!"

You loved seeing him open his mind to many different concepts and treat you no differently than anyone else (minus some favoritism, hehe <3)

Kalim

It was actually Jamil who brought it up in conversation. The topic of "LGBTQ" came up, of course, Kalim understood the basics of people who identified as gay, however when the term "trans-masc" came up in regards to you, he was incredibly eager to learn more.

"Trans-masc? I thought they were (y/n)?"

"Kalim- no-"

It didn't take long for him to easily come around to the new terminology. You maybe gave him a 10 minute crash course before he accepted it face value.

"I see...so one day you're going to be by my side not as a queen, but as my royal spouse!" You were flabbergasted at his brazen comment. With a red face, you hadn't time to react before his hands were already around you in a deep hug.

"Haha! Oh, right! The pop club has a new song, wanna listen to it?"

He loves you no matter what. The most understanding and unconditionally in love person to exist, the definition of sunshine

Might overshare sometimes. He will bring it up sometimes to other people (if they misgender you) and give THEM a crash course on it! You love that he is so passionate about you, though. xoxo

Idia

He knew. He is chronically online, he knows all about it. When he first met you, he even asked what your preferred pronouns were.

I don't really know what else to say for Idia, he honestly doesn't care who you identify as. You play video games with him and give him love, that's enough for him!!

Can take it incredibly seriously If someone misgenders you or tries to bully you about your identity, his hair turns a fiery red and he turns gives them a whole one hour lesson while belittling that person calling them as intelligent as a soggy piece of bread.

The other person is crying by the end of it, but honestly nobody deserves to be treated disrespectfully like that.

actually how he confessed his crush to you, lol. In a fit of rage to someone who wasn't being very kind... "How dare you treat the one I love like that, you stupid normie piece of-" Realizes his mistake, face turns red, turns to you (whos face is also red)

"ummm.....Nevermind!" He runs away, but there was no getting away from you heuheu

even though he can be shy and kind of tsundere in public, he can be really passionate and will defend you at a moments notice and educate other people who are, as he puts, less than him.

In private? Sitting in his lap playing video games

Malleus

Actually, learned this from Idia. It was during class when the topic of LGBTQ came up, and when speaking among the students he over heard Idia telling ortho about your disposition as trans-masc.

Immediately came to you

"Child of man, what is 'trans-masc' and why did Idia use this term to describe you? Could you elaborate?" You two decided to take a stroll around the forest where you spent hours talking about all sorts of different people and the terms they used, explaining to him about dysphoria and how you discovered that the pronouns you were born with just didn't sit right with you.

Nods in understanding, but ends up purchasing a bunch of books Idia and Lilia recommended to him to increase his understanding.

Even though there are indeed things he will never be able to sympathize with properly and understand, such as the effects of dysphoria, but he will respect you full heartedly and not treat you any different despite still growing to learn about such topics.

All in all, it does not matter what you identify as. He finds himself completely enamored with you, loving how you teach him new things about anything and everything with humans- he will treat you the same as you treat him- impartial due to status, class, gender, pronouns, human or fae. He knew you were the one he wanted to rule Briar Valley next to one day- as his lovely spouse.

~~

I hope I was able to answer your request satisfyingly <3 Please let me know if anything needs to be changed and I shall update accordingly, I myself am always learning and growing every day! Please be kind <3

[ploppythespaceship]

Please Watch My Adventures with Superman

This show is just so delightful and manages to capture the essence of Superman in a way a lot of adaptations just don't quite get. If you've ever been curious about Superman, if you've ever felt Superman is too boring for you, or you just enjoy a fun superhero story, I highly recommend checking this series out.

The first season has ten episodes, and the second season has just aired its third episode. In the US, it's available on Adult Swim and Max.

What It's About

If you aren't familiar with Superman, he's an alien -- the last survivor of planet Krypton, sent to Earth as an infant where he was found and raised as Clark Kent. Being an alien, he has extraordinary powers which he uses to lead a double life as a hero. This show focuses on a core trio of Clark, his girlfriend Lois, and their friend Jimmy, all of whom work at the Daily Planet newspaper.

Clark Kent / Superman

One of the main reasons this show works is it understands that Clark is Clark, first and foremost, and Superman is his disguise. Clark is a big friendly nerd. He's a huge sweetheart who cares so deeply about the people around him and the planet that adopted him.

This version of Clark is starting out very young (early 20s), so a lot of this story is about him just figuring things out. He's gradually learning the truth about his origins, the extent of his powers, and how best to be a hero -- all while grappling with the fact that he isn't human and his people of origin may in fact be a massive threat to Earth.

Clark is voiced by Jack Quaid, which you might not expect to work well, but he honestly nails it.

Lois Lane

Lois is loud. She's ambitious. She's intelligent and quick-witted. She doesn't take no for an answer. She has jumped off a building to prove her point -- twice. She is an unstoppable force of nature, and this show refuses to dumb any of those traits down.

But above all, she's kind. She wants to use everything she can do to help people. Her relationship with Clark is also everything you could ever want from a Clois dynamic.

This version of Lois is Korean-American, and voiced by Alice Lee, who does a phenomenal job.

Jimmy Olsen

Jimmy is Clark's best friend and roommate. This version portrays him as a supernatural/paranormal vlogger, running a web series called Flamebird. He's easily excitable, very passionate, as well as one of the most dedicated friends you could ask for.

Following in the footsteps of several previous iterations of the character, this version of Jimmy is African-America. He's voiced by Ishmael Sahid, who's just perfect in the part.

Why It's Great

The characters are all fun and interesting in their own right, while also having a great dynamic with each other -- as duos and as a full trio. And because the characters are shown as being very young and just starting out, they're very relatable. Additionally, every character feels very true to the spirit of their comics counterpart, despite taking a lot of liberties with the specifics.

There's a great cast of villains so far -- Livewire, Task Force X, Mxyzptlk, Parasite, Silver Banshee, and plenty of others that I don't want to spoil. They've also been teasing some really interesting stuff for the Kryptonians, which is noticeably different from any previous adaptations I'm familiar with.

The show is very anime-inspired, giving it a distinct flavor from other Superman adaptations. The creators are clearly having a ton of fun with it. Classic Superman villain Mxyzptlk, who's typically shown as an imp, now looks like he just walked out of a Dragon Ball episode, in an episode called "Kiss Kiss Fall In Portal."

It's also the same animation studio as The Legend of Korra and Voltron: Legendary Defender, who do excellent work. The character designs are unique while still fitting the characters perfectly. I particular love Clark and Superman's designs -- they've struck a balance between making sure he's big and muscular while also retaining a certain softness to his appearance. The fight scenes are fluid and dynamic. It all just works.

[kelpstheshifter]

Introducing my Goddess Life

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶

Abt me ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

˚୨୧⋆ 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆: Mother Andrerissa <33

˚୨୧⋆ 𝑨𝒈𝒆: Who knows?<33

˚୨୧⋆𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟: Creation, Water, Earth, Life, Beauty, Family, Romance, Fertility, Birth, Babies, Motherhood, Love, Women, Girlhood, Womanhood

˚୨୧⋆𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔: All

˚୨୧⋆𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬: Mother of all, Mother Goddess, Rissa - the first humans,

Relationships ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐀𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

Miriana is such a sweetheart she's the biggest girls girl and all of our biggest supporters. She's kind but also confident and ALWAYS speaking her mind. She makes everyone in the room feel so so confident when she's around. I love this girl and I hope all the mythology books remember her name.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐞

Prim is the fashion designer out of us. She loves creating clothes and she's made one of my favorite dresses. I often give her crushed shells and essences from things you can't quite capture to make sure she always has the material to create whatever designs she desires. She's the kind of girl to see you once and the next time you meet greet you with an outfit that describes you from head to toe. She's perfect.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐈𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞

OH IVANTHE! I love this girl she's a jumble of nerves omg, but she means everything to me. She's the baker and HEALER in this reality. She used ingredients like the stars, waves, and love. I love her with all my heart!! Just realizing I use the word love a lot in all my posts. She's the shy one out of us, but she's still amazing.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐚

Cordelia's thing is animals. She loves ALL animals but lions seem to be her favorite (she'll never admit she has a favorite). She's very protective of the maidens and me, similar to Miriana. Like, imagine being threatened by a lady and her sixteen lions?? She's awesome and she's hot I love her.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦

Blossom takes care of the babies on Planet Venus. Everyone has their own niche little hobby and her thing is babies. She helps to raise the humans and she's the sweetest thing!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐀𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐫

Ayana is the scholar of the Prime Maidens. She's super smart and whenever we go out and explore or have adventures she's writing something down and recording our journies. She really wants there to be a trace of us and everything we experience. She says it's cause she's scholarly but we all know she's just super sentimental.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬:

All the women I mentioned have a corresponding male counterpart. I would mention them but I'm of the Goddess of Girls, not boys and this ain't about them. What I will say though is Kavishi and Blossom are the CUTEST couple.

Venus, planet of love ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

This is basically the "Earth" of my desired reality. This is where my people live! There are so many mythical creatures here I love it. Some of the ones that come to mind are Dragons, Water nymphs, Mermaids, Dryads, Unicorns, and Kelpies. There's also a giant palace where Miriana and her husband live and then mansions around it where the Maidens live and do their hobbies. Later, we'll start a village or town around us where we'll bring up the next generation of the people of Venus.

[nickeverdeen]

If you're still doing Legend of Korra requests, please can I request a Korra x guitarist!reader who has been working on a song ("until i found her" inspired me to ask this) to give to Korra, and performs it for her under the guise of needing feedback, and when positive feedback is given, reader admits that it was written for Korra?

Thank you and I hope you have a nice day!

This is extremely short and I truly am sorry about that

————————————————————

Melody of Love | Korra x guitarist!reader

In the quiet solitude of your room, you, an aspiring musician with a deep admiration for Korra, sat with your guitar in hand. A gentle strum echoed through the space, setting the creative energy in motion. The desire to express your feelings for Korra through music ignited a spark within.

As you tuned the strings, they pondered the essence of Korra – her strength, resilience, and the unspoken connection that seemed to bind them. Each chord played was a reflection of the emotions swirling in your heart. The lyrics began to take shape, inspired by the Avatar's journey and the uncharted territories of your own feelings.

With every word crafted, the you aimed to capture the spirit of Korra – the bending prodigy, the compassionate leader, and the person who had managed to touch your soul in a profound way. Verses and choruses unfolded, creating a melody that mirrored the ebb and flow of emotions.

The room became a sanctuary of creativity, emotions pouring into the song like ink onto a canvas. You marveled at the power of music, how it could transcend spoken words and convey the unspoken truths of the heart. The process wasn't just about creating a song; it was a journey of self-discovery, an exploration of the uncharted territory within yourself.

Hours turned into days as you refined the composition. You strived to make the melody resonate with Korra, hoping that the song would convey the depth of your feelings. The guitar strings vibrated with every emotion, and the lyrics became a testament to a love that dared to be expressed through the universal language of music.

In the quiet moments between verses, you envisioned presenting the song to Korra, wondering how she would react to this heartfelt melody crafted exclusively for her. Little did you know that this musical creation would become a bridge, connecting your hearts in a way that surpassed words alone.

———

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the Air Temple as you stood at a distance, captivated by Korra's training routine. The sight of her muscles flexing with each movement, beads of sweat glistening on her skin, sent a flush creeping up your cheeks.

As Korra concluded her training session, you nervously shuffled your feet, unsure whether to approach her. However, before you could make a decision, Korra noticed you and approached with a friendly smile.

"Hey there," she greeted, a playful glint in her eyes. "Enjoying the show?"

You chuckled, your cheeks still tinged with embarrassment. "Uh, yeah. You're quite the sight to behold."

Korra's eyebrows lifted in surprise, but she took it in stride, her fingers fixing a few strands of hair that clung to her forehead. "Training gets messy sometimes."

You nodded, finding it difficult to tear your gaze away from her. "Messy or not, you're amazing out there."

Korra's grin widened, and you felt your heart race. Encouraged by the casual banter, you gathered the courage to share a more personal side.

"I've actually been working on something lately," you admitted, gesturing toward the guitar strapped across your back. "Mind if I play it for you?"

Korra's eyes lit up with curiosity. "I'd love to hear it!"

Finding a quiet spot, you began to play the song you had composed with Korra in mind. The melody resonated through the Air Temple, and you stole glances at Korra as you played.

Once the final note lingered in the air, you looked at Korra with a mix of excitement and nervousness. "So, what do you think? Any feedback?"

Korra's face softened into a smile. "That was beautiful, really. You're incredibly talented."

Buoyed by her positive response, you took a deep breath. "Actually, there's something else I wanted to say. The song... I wrote it for you."

A brief silence stretched between you two, and panic started to creep in. You began apologizing, thinking you might have overstepped, but before your rambling could continue, Korra closed the distance and kissed you mid-sentence.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but as the warmth of the kiss enveloped you, words became unnecessary. When Korra finally pulled back, she grinned, a playful sparkle in her eyes.

"No need to apologize. I've been hoping you'd say something like that for a while," Korra admitted, her thumb brushing against your cheek.

Speechless and blushing furiously, you found yourself caught in the magic of the moment. The Air Temple, a silent witness, seemed to hum with a newfound melody – a melody of shared feelings and the beginning of something special between you and the Avatar.

As you and Korra continued to talk, laughter filling the air, you realized that the song you had played was more than notes on a guitar; it was the soundtrack to the blossoming connection between two hearts

Yours and hers

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I think it would be really cute if someone calls Eri is ‘Apple Blossom’ because those are the flowers that turn into the yummy apples she loves (Lucifer or Charlie from Hazbin Hotel)

-You were considered an…usual citizen of Hell, mainly because you didn’t belong there. You belonged in Heaven, but someone was able to kidnap you from Heaven and spirited you away to Hell, hiding you there.

-You managed to slip away one day, running, trying to do whatever it took to hide away from this scary man who had a bird like head, who was torturing you for your unique abilities to rewind things, a healing ability to put it simply.

-It was Charlie who found you, thinking you were adorable, and Vaggie immediately knew that you had been taken from Heaven, telling her girlfriend and the two agreed to hide you at the hotel.

-Needless to say, the other residents of the hotel were quite shocked to meet you, as you were such a sweet and gentle child, despite the pain and torture you endured.

-Angel immediately took you out shopping and when you came back you were wearing matching outfits, as he said you had to always look fabulous!

-Husk did his best to avoid you, not wanting to taint you by accident, but he was surprised when Angel didn’t. Husk always makes sure you have juice, never letting you have any booze, and he will sit there and let you pet his wings, trying to ignore your sweet words on how fluffy he is!

-Niffty adores you, finding you to be the cutest, most adorable thing in existence and she loves when you ask if you can help her in the kitchen. You can always help her, but she makes sure you stay away from the knives.

-Charlie became like a big sister to you, doting on you, teaching you everything she can, which also includes musical numbers, much to Vaggie’s ‘amusement’ but she’s very protective of you.

-Vaggie is like a guard dog with you, she knows that the one hunting for you is still out there, and she isn’t willing to risk your life or safety in the slightest. Vaggie lets you play with her with hair all the time, as Charlie has been teaching you how to braid.

-Alastor was very apprehensive about being around you, he would always send you to one of the others, not willing to deal with you, mainly because he had no idea what to do with a child. He wasn’t mean to you or anything, he would just pat your head softly and tell you to go find Charlie or whoever was in the area.

-You were peeking around the corner, holding something to your chest, looking for the Radio Demon himself, wandering the hotel’s public areas where you’ve seen him before.

-You spotted Alastor up ahead and your eyes lit up, a little smile coming to your lips as you trotted after him.

-Alastor heard your little footsteps, “I thought I heard someone following me. Are you looking for Charlie?”

-You shook your head, “I was looking for you Alastor.” He seemed surprised by your words, bending at the waist, looking a bit menacing but you weren’t bothered, “Oh and why is that my little apple blossom?”

-Your eyes went wide at his words, sparkling lightly before you held up what you were carrying, a crayon drawing of Alastor, holding it out to him, “I wanted to give you this since you’re always so nice to me!”

-He was a little confused, not remembering being nice to you, as he would always send you away, but such is the innocence of a child as he took the drawing, seeing that you did your best to capture his essence.

-His wide smile never left his face as he leaned over and patted your head again, “Thank you Y/N.” you beamed up at him before you scurried off, going back to your drawing supplies so you could make one of Angel next.

-Alastor couldn’t help but look down at the drawing, feeling something, he wasn’t sure what it was, in his chest, as he returned to his tower, pinning the picture on the back of his door before moving to the window.

-What an odd child you were.

[talesofesther]

serenity haze

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: You notice the changes in Jenna in the lines that you draw; the sketches of her in your sketchbook have more lines to them, creases in her eyebrows, and shadows below her eyes. Your heart clenches painfully whenever you look at a finished piece you did of her.

Requested by anon

A/N: First time writing for her so don't crucify me pls. I still feel a tad bit weird writing about real people, but I see my Jenna as a character in a story, that's all. Hope you can enjoy this one, let me know your thoughts. Requests are always open, though be aware that I go where my inspiration takes me, and be mindful of my guidelines.

Masterlist

You were naturally observant, it was a habit that came with a hobby.

You liked to draw things, and to be able to draw them, you had to observe.

Because you're observant, you tend to notice patterns, details, and moments that might go unnoticed by most.

Lately, you found yourself drawing one thing in particular — or better, one person.

Jenna Ortega captivated you, anyone who met her would probably say the same. She is captivating after all. Yet you know your feelings are different, because you see a side of her that few people do.

You had been offered a role in the new Wednesday show, it was a smaller one, but a privilege nonetheless. And this role gave you the opportunity to meet Jenna.

After the first month of working together, it was already known on set that; where you went, Jenna wasn't too far behind.

You'd catch yourself searching for her in the crowds most days, her favorite coffee order in hand. She'd greet you with a warm smile that never failed and a hug that lasted a little too long. Jenna was sunshine if sunshine could be a person, she was the most genuine girl you knew; beautiful inside and out.

It was inevitable that she became your muse.

Unbeknownst to you — and maybe even to herself — Jenna felt drawn to you too. You were quietness, you were calmness, you were the steadiness she craved in her hectic life.

Jenna had no obligations with you, no expectations to meet; she could be herself, on good or bad days, and you'd still be there. She didn't know how much she needed something like that until she finally got it.

In some ways, it felt like you were her breath of fresh air whenever she needed one. Which seems to be happening quite often nowadays.

Whilst everyone was running around on set, cameras on every corner of the room, and people talking incessantly in their intercoms, Jenna was speaking with Tim about an upcoming scene in the show. She leaned back on what was one of the booths in the Weathervane cafe, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding along to his words.

He spoke about the dance, and Jenna confirmed she had almost all the choreography done already. Except she didn't.

What she had, were sleepless nights weighing down on her shoulders.

She tried to take a deep breath to calm her nerves, but it didn't do much. Her gaze skimmed over the room against her own volition, finding you sitting in a corner of the set — on the floor no less — sketchbook in hands.

Jenna felt the overwhelming urge to escape to your world.

Dark lines steadily appeared on the paper along with the drag of your pencil. You bit into your lower lip, a habit of concentration, and glanced up at Jenna; only to notice her eyes already on you.

The heat that came to your cheeks was instant and you gave her a sheepish smile. She caught you red-handed. Hopefully, she wouldn't bring it up.

Because, how could you resist? When Jenna is standing there against the sun, golden rays highlighting all her features for you; from the curve of her lips, to the tip of her nose, to the shape of her eyebrows. Flawless.

You couldn't resist taking out your book and drawing a quick sketch of her. Sometimes for you, watching people from afar was much better than seeing them up close, you could capture their essence fully, notice each little quirk or mannerism.

Take Jenna for example; her thumbs brush the fabric of her Nevermore uniform as she speaks with Tim, she's nodding eagerly to everything he says, not able to stay still on her feet. She's a little nervous, a little anxious. You could tell from the other side of the room.

It's no secret that filming this series is taking a toll on Jenna — your pencil traces the outline of her jaw on your sketchbook before you move to her eyes, and around them, you see yourself being forced to add just a tad more shadow; it's been happening for a while — you see her exhaustion in the lines that you draw.

The rough image of her stared back at you from your sketchbook, and part of you wanted to take her hand and go away for a day or two.

There's a sudden presence beside you that makes you flinch back to reality. Jenna sat down on the floor with you; she rests her head back against the wall, a lazy smile tugging at her lips.

She brought her knees closer to her chest, making herself look smaller than she already is. Turning to look at you, all she asked was; "what are you drawing?"

There's always a silent understanding between you both. You bumped her shoulder with yours, "that's confidential information."

And she actually pouts, lower lip jutted out and big doe eyes pleading at you; "even for me?"

"Especially for you," you mumbled, not sure if she heard or not.

Jenna doesn't inquire further, forever reciprocating the serenity you bring to her life. She slumped closer to you, allowing her head to fall on your shoulder, blindly trusting you to hold her weight if so needed.

You placed your sketchbook aside, focusing solemnly on her. Your cast and crew mates are still walking around, no one spares a glance at the two actresses who sit on the floor of Jericho's cafe; it feels like your own little bubble of peace for a precious minute.

"Were you and Tim discussing a new scene?" You asked eventually, gently leaning your head on top of hers.

Jenna hummed, "it's a dance that will happen at the school party, I'm creating Wednesday's choreography."

"That's exciting, do you have anything already?"

"Not really. I've got two weeks."

The turmoil of emotions was so evident in Jenna's tight voice that you almost pulled away so you could look her in the eyes and tell her… you're not sure what you'd say, but something to ease it.

Yet you held back, choosing instead to take her hand and whisper 'you got this' against her hair.

———

Things only got worse after your little moment.

Jenna has been on autopilot. You doubt she's sleeping, or resting at all. She's always the first one to arrive on set and the last one to leave.

The sketches of her in your sketchbook have more lines to them, creases in her eyebrows, and shadows below her eyes. Your heart clenches painfully whenever you look at a finished piece you did of her.

It was a Saturday night, you sat on the roof of your trailer, enjoying the starry sky above you, the cold breeze around you. With the flashlight of your cellphone on, you turned the pages of your sketchbook, reminiscing the drawings of last week; until a rather loud noise caught your attention.

You looked around you with a confused frown. The set's parking lot was empty, with only a few street lamps on, and no one in sight.

This could be a cliche horror movie scene. You could feel a chill running down your back; but then you caught sight of Jenna's trailer, the lights were on.

Checking your phone, you realized you had been sitting outside for longer than you thought. 1:37 AM.

Not giving yourself much room to chicken out, you hopped down from your trailer, stuffed your sketchbook in your pants pocket, and walked up to her door.

You hesitated, awkwardly hovering outside Jenna's trailer in the dead of night. Your stomach was twisting and turning unpleasantly. Coming from inside, you could hear the faint melody of 'Goo Goo Muck' playing.

Your worry got the best of you. Taking a deep breath, you raised your fist to the door, and knocked.

The music stopped abruptly, and you heard shuffling from inside her trailer. And then nothing, the silence stretched for a few good seconds, before her door finally swung open.

Jenna stood in front of you and got your heart shattering a little. She was a bit of a mess; hair up in a disheveled bun, only in an oversized hoodie and sweatpants yet you could see her forehead glistening with sweat, her lips quivered softly with each breath she took, and you could tell her eyes were red-rimmed if you looked closely.

"Hi Jenna," you started with a timid smile, "uh- I'm sorry to bother, it's just, I was out and I saw your lights on and just wanted to ask if everything's okay."

Jenna gulped down the lump in her throat, fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie; "yeah it's fine, I'm fine." She tried mimicking your smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Okay," you whispered sympathetically, seeing right through the lie.

"Um-" Jenna cleared her throat, but it sounded more like a soft sob. She avoided meeting your eyes then. "Would you- would you like to come in?"

It was a plea more than anything else. You didn't hesitate in saying yes.

You closed the door behind you and glanced around her trailer; she had her laptop on her bed, YouTube page opened to The Cramps' song; there was a stress ball rolling around on the floor, you figured that's where the loud noise from earlier came.

"I'm working on the dance," Jenna turned to you, threading her fingers through her fringe, restless.

"And how is it going?" You asked, though you had a feeling you knew the answer.

"I can't come up with anything," Jenna shrugged, chuckling humourlessly as her eyes welled up with tears.

Your heart was trying to escape your chest — Jenna's eyes were shining under the orange lights of the trailer, hands trembling as she tried to hold herself together — you took a step closer to her; "Jenna, I think you just need to let your mind rest for a while, have you-"

"I can't," she cut you off urgently, "the scene is one week away. One week. And I have nothing," tears started to roll down her cheeks, but you don't think she realized it.

Jenna started walking from one side to another of the small cramped space of her trailer, "I can't think of anything that would fit Wednesday, and we're shooting this scene next week. I told Tim I could handle it and yet I have nothing, what am I gonna tell him? That we're gonna have to postpone shooting because I can't come up with a fucking choreography?"

By the end of her rant, Jenna was panting heavily, borderline hyperventilating. Her tears came nonstop as sobs shook her body. She was hugging herself, chasing some type of comfort that wasn't there.

Your worry finally escaped you and you closed the distance between you both. You took her face in your hands, cupping her cheeks as your thumbs gingerly brushed away the wetness there; "Jen, look at me," you spoke softly, not missing the way her hands came to desperately grasp at your shirt, "breathe with me okay? Can you do that?"

A fresh batch of tears hit your thumbs and you felt your chest crack open; yet Jenna nodded, all reddish nose and glistening eyes.

You took a deep breath in, held it for a second, and then exhaled, watching closely for the way that she'd copy the motion. You did it a couple of times until her breathing was finally somewhat even.

"There you are," you mumbled, regarding her with a bittersweet smile when her eyes found yours, "you're okay," you promised, brushing away a few wisps of hair that clung to her skin.

A sob escaped Jenna's lips as soon as she heard the words, letting her forehead lean into yours in a silent request.

You gladly complied, raising your lips to place a kiss between her brows before guiding her head to rest on your shoulder. You embraced her body flush with yours, arms sliding around her back until you felt the curve of her spine. The thudding of her heart mingling with yours.

You could feel the gentle trembling of her body from time to time. It only made you hold her tighter.

Jenna had a death grip on you, your shirt bunched up on her fists as if you'd disappear if she let go. She buried her head on your shoulder, seeking a safe place, "I'm so tired," she spoke against you, words muffled.

"I know," you kissed her temple, "I know."

You're not sure if you held Jenna for five minutes or one hour, but you stood there for as long as she needed. And when she was ready to pull away, bright and puffy eyes timidly looking at you with nothing but gratitude, you didn't say anything; all you did was turn off her laptop and put it away for the night, dimming the lights on her trailer to give her body a much-needed break.

Then, you sat down beside her on her bed. There was a reasonable distance between you that she was quick to close, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Be honest with me now, have you been sleeping this past week, at all?" You raised a brow at her.

Jenna pursed her lips, in some ways resembling a child who'd been caught stealing from the cookie jar, "that obvious?" She asked, ducking her head to hide behind her fringe.

"Very," you smirked, "for me at least."

That got her looking up at you with tender curiosity, she was looking more like herself already.

With your heart in your mouth, you fished for your sketchbook in your pocket. You handed it to her without daring to breathe.

Jenna flipped through the pages as if they'd crumble between her fingers; carefully, reverently. You could hear the way her breath caught when she found herself between the sketches, once, twice, and then again and again. Different versions of her by your eyes; talking, thinking, walking, smiling, laughing, sometimes even scowling.

And Jenna has never seen herself look so beautiful, so enchanting. Is this how you see her?

Her vision got blurred again but she gulped it back this time, "it's so beautiful," was all she could whisper, smile tugging at her lips as her fingers traced one of the lines that formed her.

"You are," was your answer, in the same quiet tone, afraid to break the spell holding this moment.

Jenna's eyes turned up to you at last, big and vulnerable, almost completely black because of her pupils. She leaned in just a tad, your noses shy of brushing each other — gravity, magnetism, fate; whatever it might be, trying to push you together.

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that she followed, "tomorrow, I'll help you with your dance," you took hold of her free hand, intertwining your fingers, "and it's gonna turn out amazing."

Jenna giggled, and you wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it forever.

"Tonight," you copied her smile, "we'll rest, okay?"

Bringing your hand up to her lips, Jenna planted a kiss on your knuckles, "okay."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Jenna’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @thenextdawn @alexkolax @aahdiieb @mindingmybidness12 @melthedwarf

[mae-i-scribble]

tonight i was thinking about orv’s theme about how yjh as a character, and to a larger extent people, will in some ways always be unknowable. (orv spoilers following, read at your own risk)

i feel like i’ve seen a few posts on here that somewhat take this theme to an extreme, leaning *hard* into that “kdj doesn’t actually know yjh like at all” which while on the right track, i feel completely misses the point. Orv goes out of its way to showcase that kdj actually understands yjh to a scary degree, even once they’re out of the early scenarios and the gap between kdj’s knowledge and yjh’s personhood grows larger, there are still things about yjh that *only* kdj can fundamentally understand. And I don’t think that the novel does anything to discredit that understanding, only says that there is much more to yjh. In the same manner, even if you’ve known someone for years, spent all your time with them, there can and will always be new things for you to learn about them. The danger that orv speaks of is trusting in that assumption, that your understanding will be enough and you don’t have to keep an eye out for more developments. That the person you know will forever stay the same. And this isn’t a kdj problem either, fundamentally a lot of the big disagreements that happen between kdj and yjh in the latter half of the novel are born from both of them misconstruing what the other is thinking, trusting that their understanding of the other is deep enough to base their judgements off of. (Post first murim destruction, divorce arc, yjh thinking kdj scattered his soul on purpose, etc.)

As always with orv’s themes, we can view it in a meta sense as well. Kdj’s understanding of yjh as a character is so complete that it’s nearly flawless- until the story begins to deviate and a yjh grows outside the parameters that kdj’s judgements are based on. Even before then, there was always more to yjh- but as readers, we can only understand a character as much as we see them. What you come away with from a story is your complete understanding, there is no growth outside of those boundaries because then it wouldn’t be an understanding of *that* character, you would be putting your own ideas and such into it. But talk to another person, and suddenly the same character you understand so clearly becomes someone else. Talk to the author, and they say something completely different. And can one truly claim to understand a character when the story will never talk about them in every conceivable way? What does it take to truly understand such a thing? Learning that 1863rd round hsy wrote ways of survival with such limited resources and knowledge on who yjh even is, and yet despite it all, still manages to write a story that captures so much of his essence. As orv readers, we know it isn’t everything- it could never encapsulate all of yjh, but the idea that even when one knows nearly nothing, you can still put on a facade of understanding.

We can get into a chicken or the egg argument with this, as 1863!hsy dictates how yjh acts with her writing, and that yjh in the 1863rd round is the one she comes to know before ever starting this story, but when it comes to this theme of the unknowable in the people around us, I don’t think this sort of debate is worth much. We know that yjh exists outside the story written, and how much of him is determined by hsy’s writing is negligible because no matter what, he always grows beyond it. Whether as 1864 or secretive plotter, it all comes back to that same point of there is always more to see within a person.

I don’t know quite where I want to go with this, only that I wanted an outlet for some of these thoughts inside my head, but one of the best things about this theme for me is how it answers itself. When the people around you become unrecognizable, what should you do? And orv says to reach out. To try. To understand. Kdj loses access to omniscient reader several times but always, always gains it back in orv (as far as i remember), because at the end of the day, he is not someone who stays trapped in his idea of who he knows yjh to be. Yjh too, even at the end of orv, is trying to learn more and more about kdj. Only when you are willing to hear out the other person, to learn about them every day, does this unknowable aspect become something less daunting.

[iguessit-sgrace]

moonlit corridors

a regulily microfic

~~~

“You have something of mine,” Regulus called softly. Lily paused on her way up the stairs and looked back at him, a ripple of confusion across her freckled features. Her lower lip jutted out just slightly and her eyebrows furrowed, almost as if in a pout. Regulus wanted to carve that expression into the finest marble, to capture it forever. The essence of beauty.

“Your jumper?” she asked, looking down at the dark green sweater she was wearing. She bit her lip and looked slightly crestfallen. “I thought you said I... never mind, you can have it back.”

She started to remove it, but Regulus reached up and stilled her arm. 

“No, love,” he murmured, gently pulling her arm back down. She tilted her head slightly, almost like a doe. 

“Then what?” she whispered, red strands of hair falling in front of her eyes. Regulus brushed them away. 

“You have my heart.”

Lily’s breath caught. 

“Take good care of it, please. It’s quite fragile,” he admitted, not breaking eye contact with her. Green eyes, shining like emeralds, looked back into his own. 

“You have mine too,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper in the night air. “I suppose we’ve exchanged.”

“One heart for another.” Regulus’s hand found hers. “A fair trade.”

“A risky one.”

“I quite enjoy risks.”

Lily’s lips curved into a smile. “So do I,” she agreed.

Regulus found himself smiling back at her. He kissed her fingertips, her palm, the back of her hand. Each was featherlight. Each held a thousand promises. Her hands were soft, so soft. Soft like an owl's wing. Soft like unmolded clay. They smelled faintly of the strawberry lotion he had often seen her apply. 

He wondered if her lips tasted like strawberries too.

“Good night, Reg,” Lily said softly. She leaned over and brushed a kiss against his cheek. She looked radiant in the moonlight. Like a goddess.

“Good night, Lily.”

She whispered something in his ear, her voice as light as the breeze. Then she leaned back and smiled. With a small wave, she retreated up the stairs and disappeared behind the portrait. 

Regulus’s fingers traced the glossy mark left on his cheek, which he was sure was glowing. 

“You don’t just have my heart, love. You have my soul.”

With Lily’s promise echoing in his mind, he began the walk back to the Slytherin dormitories, the moonlight in the corridors guiding his way.