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mochikeiji · 3 years

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Request: "For your event can I have my bby, Inumaki Toge (sorry for being so predictable) and prompts 50 and 6 🥺👉👈"

50. "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you"

6. "No, don't cover your smile"

↠ Pairing: Inumaki Toge x F!Reader

↠ Warning: mini make out session in the end, mostly fluffy soft times, italicized fonts are Inumaki's lines through texts

↬ Word Count: 1.3k

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

As much as you find the certain white haired but quiet ball of sunshine, there was one thing that sometimes bothered you. It wasn't major— Inumaki was alright as he is now. If not, perfect you would say. The only thing you don't comprehend is that he kept wearing that long sleeved, collar that reached his mouth. Even you find your annoying teacher was wearing the same thing as your boyfriend after yelling hysterically how he's found his long lost twin while poor Inumaki was dragged out of the blue.

You get it's for hiding the tattoos on the corners of his lips. Maybe there was more to it, but Inumaki wrote it on a paper; a way of communicating, that it wasn't at all that sacred or anything to hide. He just grew fond of hiding his mouth for a long period of time. Though he admits it does kind of make him insecure of the times people saw him in person while walking down the streets with a normal attire. All you could ever have in order to read his emotions were his eyes. There were moments you'd catch a peek of his full features during missions. But it hasn't even reached a minute or so he's already hidden himself like a turtle.

Staring longer at him while laying down on bed bored, it dawned to you how you've never caught on what he'd look like if he smiles underneath that suit he wore. This made you tempted to zip down the little zipper in display, but you know better than to pry in his comfort zone. But oh, can you imagine, just a cute kitten like smile. Or even a pout when he's clinging onto your waist during mornings for more over time cuddles. You needed to see that.

"Hey, Toge."

Fingers tugging down the hem of his suit, Inumaki's attention drifts off of his phone from what Yuta was sending and peered at you, "Shake?" he starts, fiddling with your fingers with his. He does this a lot even in public, so intrigued at how much it has an affect to make his insides all giddy and warm from the playful gesture.

"Can I please see you?"

He snorts a little as he types something on his phone. Lucky you, yours happened to be right next to you. The screen lightening, pinging a notification coming from him,

You already are, you dummy.

Inumaki chuckles a bit when he earned himself a pout and a huff from you. Pinching your cheeks gently in a way of saying sorry and waits for you to explain, "I mean, I want to see you. You know," widening your palm a bit, facing it near your own mouth and began waving up and down at him. "Without the thingy in the way."

He messages again,

Thingy? Really? Aren't you cute.

Sitting up from your position, you waddled closer to his body. Inumaki shifts himself to sit comfortably at the edge of the bed for you to settle yourself on his lap. His hands roamed for a good seconds behind your back, occasionally trying to be sneaky once he's reached a bit lower, but settles nonetheless on your hips.

"I wanna see you smile." while playing with the dangling zipper, "I've never really seen you take this off whenever we're together. Don't get me wrong! It's not ugly! I just, you know."

It startled you when he coos quietly. Squinting his eyes and booping your nose softly. If you weren't mistaken, did he just wiggled himself? He resumes to typing once again something quickly and flashes his screen towards you.

You're just precious.

But I'm not gonna do it.

Kind of bummed from what he said. Then again worried you may have been pushing him on, but then you see his index scroll up from his notepad to reveal the other, large bolded text underneath his last reply,

You do it for me.

"Are you sure? I don't mean to sound pushy."

He types again,

You're not. It's nice to hear that someone can't resist my charms.

Gasping dramatically, you slapped his chest with the back of your hand softly. His shoulders jolting from stifled laughter before grabbing your wrist up to the zipper. It was stupid to have your breath held in. What can you say, it was anticipating really. Giving you a firm nod that it was very much okay for him, you slowly zipped down the collar to unravel half of his face. Your smile was wobbly from failing to hide the embarrassment, more now because he kept arching his brows as if he was teasing you.

When it came to a stop at his chest, your hand automatically reaches out for his jaw. Thumb tracing over the swirly marks now that it was up close and woah, do you want to know if he uses some kind of lip balm or lip gloss. They were so pretty! Probably near as the blubbering blindfolded male.

If you could only see yourself so dazed at him, like any other guy, the corners of his lips rose a tiny bit from all the attention he was gaining from you. He could feel his naked soul burn from the sparkles of admiration through your eyes as you stared at him agape, "You're really handsome."

And like any other guy, to be called handsome hasn't occurred in his book until now. Of course, it's a bit more different if someone you love says it, right? Suddenly feeling quite hot underneath your gaze and comment, his fingers threaded through his bangs to push away from his sweaty forehead. Looking away when he feels the blood in his face circulate to paint his cheeks.

No different than he is, you quickly slapped a palm on your mouth, "I-I mean, you're always handsome! It's just, wow." unable to keep your eyes out of his face, so close you could count the lashes on his eyes, "You're wow. Like, wow. You're with me?"

Couldn't you stop already? It's not often he gets someone praising him. It's always Maki and Yuta that gets the spotlight, occasionally Panda if he's down in the dumps. But couldn't you tell by the way he's suddenly the one who's nervous because of you? It felt too good to hear, he had to gulp down the butterflies that were prying his lips into a large grin. Boy, does he want to hide himself as he lowered his hand from holding his bangs up to cup his mouth. Upon witnessing that, you shake your head with a smile,

"No, don't cover your smile." pinning his hand down, planted on his sides as you leaned closer, "I love your smile."

Nothing but pure sincerity came out from you. What choice does he have to deny you when the reason why he can't even contain himself from smiling was because of you? Shyly tapping on his revealed chest random patterns and scanning each part your eyes could reach, he takes advantage of the closeness you two shared just by the lips. Squeaking between the kisses, his arms circles to your middle to pull you in deeper, your hands acting as a support that held onto his shoulders. Unlike the quick pecks that go by in a flash, he savors this one the most knowing he's got nothing to hide from anything or anyone. No one would've guessed he'd kiss as if it was full of raw, hungry emotions.

Even when you pull away to breathe, he still sneaks more littered kisses on your lips until he was satisfied witha goofy smile on his flushed face. Fumbling to grab his phone open for the prepared text he's put in earlier and pushing it between your faces, "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you."

"You planned this from the start didn't you, you jerk." scoffing playfully to mask your own lovey dovey state from floating to the clouds. He shows you another text briefly before throwing his phone out of the way, resuming back to business in a more intimate position feeling himself become in much need.

Take less, more kisses, cutie.

#inumaki to/ge fluff #inumaki to/ge imagines #inumaki to/ge x reader #inumaki to/ge x y/n #inumaki x y/n #inumaki scenarios #inumaki imagines #inumaki x reader #jujutsu kaisen inumaki #jjk inumaki #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #raines: gogatsu event

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tothemeadow · 3 years

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I haven't seen much people requesting for snake bby so obanai x demon reader pls?Reader is like a succubus type of demon and when sent on a mission to kill her he falls into her clutches and it ends with smut 👀

‘in my dreams’ / Iguro O. x Reader

PLEASE STOP SLEEPING ON THIS MAN

warnings: NSFW, Obanai is a boob man, dream fucking?

words: 2,793

(a/n): I might’ve gotten carried away a bit

He’s always heard that sharks can smell blood on the water.

He isn’t a stranger to blood himself, used to the sightly images of gore and the rancid odor. It’s simply another part of his hellish life, bearing witness to mutilated remains of bodies and hunting down their killer.

It’s all in a day’s work.

It’s strange, though, when there aren’t any bodies to be found. Rumors of disappearances plague the night, travel from lips to ears, slowly spreading throughout the small town.

Takahashi’s daughter disappeared last night.

The doctor’s oldest son? Haven’t you heard? He’s gone.

For such a large number of people to be suddenly up and vanishing, it’s no wonder concerns have risen. It’s why Obanai’s here in the first place, determined to sniff out the culprit and promptly execute them. He’s dealt with similar cases before – finding the missing persons, only to find their remains or couple of bones – but this time… Well, it’s weird, to say the least. Not one person in this town knows where anybody could be, no strange sightings or feelings, nothing.

And, if Obanai is going to be completely honest, it’s infuriating as hell.

He’s not a patient person in the slightest. Perhaps that’s his curse and the sole reason why this case isn’t going anywhere; still, with the lingering danger hanging over these poor people’s heads, he needs to end this quickly. And so, cooped up in a small room at the town’s inn, he pours over his scribbling of notes, wondering just what kind of force he’s dealing with.

A demon’s nature can vary, depending on what kind you encounter. Obanai’s had his fair share of strange interactions – whether it be demons with multiple arms, pygmies, the facial features of a fly - he's nearly seen at all. But to take victims without leaving a single trace? That's where things get complicated.

"Dammit," Obanai grumbles, dragging a hand over his face. Kaburamaru flicks his tongue in concern, sensing his owner's unease.

This isn't going anywhere. The amount of time or effort spent trying to figure out where everyone has vanished isn't amounting to anything. How could this be? Obanai isn't some low level slayer, for gods' sakes - he's a Pillar. It shouldn't be this hard to put two and two together, yet here he is, staring blankly at his collected information. The idea of sending his crow to summon for help crosses his mind, but he hastily throws away the thought. No, that's not how this is done. He isn't willing to give up so easily.

As the hours drag further into the night, Obanai grows restless, twitchy. His striped haori sits to the side, folded neatly along with the shirt and overcoat of his uniform. Kaburamaru is already fast asleep, coiled into a tight circle at the edge of the futon. The wooden hatches of the window hang open, the night breeze drifting into the room with the sound of a singular solemn cricket.

A long, ornate kiseru dangles between his spindly fingers; it’s a rare occasion whenever Obanai smokes, so much to the point that the ones closest to him don’t even know he possesses such a fine pipe. He takes a slow drag as his he stares up at the moonlit clouds, the chilled breeze whipping the choppy strands of his hair against his bared cheeks. He wonders, truly, just how the hell he’s supposed to get to the bottom of this case if he can’t find anything to work with.

Perhaps the gods heard his woes - or he’s finally lost his mind - for an intoxicatingly sweet scent fills his senses.

Jasmine.

As far as Obanai knows, he hasn’t seen any jasmine plants when he came into town. This had to mean something - it had to. Opting his kiseru for his blade instead, he easily slips out the window, feet hitting the ground without a sound. Taking off into the night, he races through the town’s streets, eyes darting back and forth for anything out of the usual.

He comes to an abrupt stop when the scent of jasmine grows even stronger. He’s sure now that whatever he’s been looking for is here. A slight shuffling catches his attention; whipping his head to the side, a wooden hatch to a window bangs against the side of a house, but there’s no one to be seen on the other side.

“Found you,” Obanai breathes.

Rushing over to the house, he drops into a crouch as he creeps closer to the window. Jasmine floods his senses, the irresistible aroma gripping onto his consciousness and practically demanding for him to come closer. Swallowing thickly, he ignores the sudden wave of heat flushing over his body as he peeks into the darkened room. A family of five lays on the floor, their bodies moving gently with the deepened breathing of a heavy slumber. Even now, Obanai has to resist the urge to shut his eyes and succumb to the flowery scent.

Although the room is dark, he can make out a strange pillar of smoke; ah, so that’s where the origin of the smell is coming from. Is it some type of mist demon? Flower? He isn’t entirely sure, but he doesn’t have the time to care. He needs to get rid of it now.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he unsheathes his blade, not wanting to attract attention to him yet. It’s a wish in vain, though; as soon as his blade is hanging in the air, the pillar of smoke rushes towards him, slamming into him and sending him flying. Obanai grunts as his back hits the ground, the sharp edge of rocks biting into the skin.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to sneak up on others?” a low, creamy voice drawls. Goosebumps break out across the surface of Obanai’s skin and a shiver races down his back. The smoke dissipates, then, revealing a feminine figure.

Obanai’s breath catches in his throat. This demon - you - are unlike any other he’s encountered. Immediately, his eyes latch onto the pair of horns protruding from your skull, pearly at the tip and then fading into ebony. You’re strikingly beautiful, facial features soft yet demanding. Embarrassment warms Obanai’s face as his eyes drift across the curves of your body; your breasts swell over the tight, strappy top while the entirety of your legs and hips frame the long loincloth-like garment between your legs. Both your arms and legs have the same pearly sheen towards the end, just like your horns.

By the gods, you’re ethereal, even if the claws on your fingers could easily tear Obanai’s throat out.

“So is breaking into other’s homes,” Obanai manages to croak. Bringing himself to a stand, he takes a defensive stance, his blade held out before him. He feels strangely heavy, almost like his body craves to stay flat on his back.

Much to his surprise, you pout at him, arms crossing beneath your chest and pushing your breasts further up. “But it gets so lonely at night, you know?” you say, that seductive lilt in your voice deepening. At that, you make a show of sweeping your eyes over Obanai’s bare torso, and a slight smile grows on your pretty lips.

Obanai clears his throat. He can’t let himself fall for your tricks, no matter how incredible you smell or alluring you look. If these are the methods you rely on, chances are you’re a weaker demon.

“What did you do with the missing persons?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

“Missing persons? Is that what they’re calling them?” you say, a giggle following your words.

Obanai growls at your nonchalant confession. If there’s one thing he can’t stand about demons, it’s their inability of basic human emotion, the inability of compassion. Yeah, he decides that your head is going to look even better once it’s separated from your body.

“You see, pretty boy,” you purr, pressing a hand to your throat and dragging it downwards, brushing over a luscious breast and tracing over your exposed tummy, “in return for making their dreams come true, I get to have a snack.”

“Enough,” Obanai grunts, switching to an offensive stance. “Maybe I’ll be gracious enough to meet you in hell someday.”

Before you even have a chance to react, Obanai springs into action, launching himself off the group in a great leap, lungs tightening as he releases a breath form.

It doesn’t hit.

It doesn’t fucking hit.

In fact, you’re nowhere in sight. Instead of the dusty, moonlit road, Obanai finds himself in an onsen; a great bamboo pavilion stands tall above the pool of water, blocking the golden rays of sunshine from hitting him. Thin trees are scattered about the area, riddled with stone lanterns and garden rocks covered in moss. With a chorus of birds singing overhead, it’s like he’s in an entire new world.

Muttering to himself, Obanai scans his surroundings, wracking his brain and trying to figure just what the hell happened. One moment, he’s about to slice your head clean off and put an end to your terror - the next, he’s in broad daylight in some overt paradise.

“Your dreams are beautiful,” that wonderful, wonderful voice of yours speaks.

Whirling around, Obanai sends splashes of water flying. “What did you do to me?” he spits.

You flash him a sly smile. “Why, I merely put you to sleep, pretty boy. Can’t be much of a threat if you’re not wide awake, no?”

Obanai curses under his breath. Of course you’re a dream demon - no wonder why there hasn’t been any bodies turning up. If only he had acted faster, got here sooner, more lives could’ve been saved. With a huff, he slithers further away from you, sinking below the water until only his face can be seen. “So what now? You’re going to try to kill me in my sleep? That’s a low blow and you know it.”

Sucking air through your teeth, you shake your head. Now that the two of you are no longer shrouded by darkness, Obanai really gets a good look of how utterly stunning you are. Again, he curses himself out, calling himself a fool for thinking such things when he should be killing you instead.

“Your blade isn’t here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you tell him, a look of mischief crossing your features. “Silly boy - this a time meant for the two of us, not for you to end my forsaken life. Allow me to help you... relax.”

As you step to the edge of the onsen, Obanai finally notices the feeling of water caressing his thighs, his bare buttocks. You just had to make him naked in his dream, huh? What are you trying to accomplish, anyway? His eyes widen incredulously as your hands find their place on your torso, slinking over the swell of your breasts and around your neck; with a simple tug, your top comes loose. You merely let the garment fall to the rocks below, a small ‘oops’ slipping from our mouth.

Heat immediately floods to Obanai’s face and his groin; his insides squeeze in on themselves and he swallows thickly, thankful for the hidden protection the water provides. The look on your face is simply irresistible. Hell, even your breasts are as pretty as he imagined-

Shit, he inwardly curses, I shouldn’t be thinking like that.

But oh, you’re just so tempting, your hands squeezing your breasts, fingers rolling your hardening nipples as you stare directly at his flushed face. “Pretty boy,” you purr, “what’s your name?”

“Obanai.”

It’s out before he even knows it.

“Obanai...”

He really likes the way it rolls off your tongue, the dark glint in your eyes as you say it. Perhaps you can tell by his reaction alone - or maybe you like saying it - but you repeat his name, once, twice, thrice, and fuck does it drive Obanai insane. And then you’re reaching down, unfastening your lower garment and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground. Obanai’s cock twitches at the sight of your glorious body, the soft curves and glowing skin.

“Naughty boy, my eyes are up here,” you say. Again, you squeeze those beautiful fucking tits, a soft groan spilling from your lips. Obanai nearly goes feral from the sound; without further thought, he wades over to where you are. Jasmine clings in his nostrils, clouds his mind in a delicious haze, and he loves it.

You’re all too willing to meet his touch, body slipping into the heated water as he wraps his arms around you possessively. His body kicks into autopilot, mind going blank as he presses his lips to your throat. He should rip your throat out with his teeth, but there’s something magical about the way you arch into his touch, breasts pushing lewdly against his chest.

“Fucking-”

“Yes.”

A breathy moan spills from your lips as Obanai kneads your pretty tits, long fingers gripping possessively, wantingly. It’s almost ridiculous how hard he already is, his cock sandwiched between your bodies. He jolts as your hands land on his face, thumbs brushing against the ragged scars lining either sides of his mouth.

“Don’t,” he grits, but it goes ignored. The air is sucked from his lungs as you brush your lips over his scars, murmuring something about how pretty he is before stopping at his mouth. You kiss him fervently, clawed fingers scratching his shoulders as you tongue the inside of his mouth. You swallow the husky groan that spills from his mouth, hand dropping down from his shoulder and wrapping around his hardening cock.

“Ah, shit,” Obanai murmurs into your mouth.

“Tell me what you want, pretty boy,” you whisper, hand slowly jerking on his cock. His breathing picks up as you quicken your pace, the water rippling with the movements of your wrists. “Your wish is my command.”

“Gods, you’re such a fucking tease,” he pants, eyes practically glowing against the pink hue of his face. Ducking his head, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the wet warmth enveloping your breast and eliciting a delicious moan from you. Obanai wastes no more time, opting to prop you in his lap and pressing your back against a smooth stone. “I shouldn’t... but fuck...”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re angry with me anymore,” you husk in that damned sexy voice. A moan bubbles from your throat as Obanai starts rocking against you, cock slipping against your folds. It’ll only take a little push for him to fill that pretty cunt of yours, to stuff you full of his cock and fuck you raw. It’s what he wants.

“Shut up,” he grunts, mouth latching onto your nipple, his hand beginning to play with the other. A low, drawn out curse gets muffled by your chest as he finally slips his cock into you; it shouldn’t be physically possible, but your velvety walls seemingly clench around him and suck him in, your arousal making the slide impossibly easy. He hiccups on a breath, his entire body twitching as he pants.

“The thing about succubi,” you drawl, sharp nails tracing down his spine, over the muscles in his back, “is that we’re the demons of sex and dreams. Oh, pretty baby, how much I’ve lucked out. Everyone else seemed like an appetizer - and you...” You pause, suck air between your teeth. “You’re like the damn main course.”

A helpless little grunt graces your ear as you fuck yourself on Obanai’s cock. His hips match your movements, your sopping cunt eagerly sucking him back in and squeezing around him. You’re so damn wet that it’s infuriating; Obanai wants more, more of your touch, your voice, that sweet scent clogging his senses. He can’t bring himself to stop touching your breasts, whether if it’s his hands or mouth. They bounce with the erratic rhythm of your hips, way too beautiful and hypnotizing.

A breathless whine breaks through your cute little pants whenever Obanai smacks a hand against the ample flesh of your ass. “Is that you meant when you said you make others’ wishes come true? Have them fuck that tight pussy of yours? Huh?”

“Obanai, don’t be mean,” you pout.

“Says a fucking demon that eats people.”

You hiss as his cockhead hits against your g-spot. “I can eat you too, so don’t get cocky, pretty boy.”

Obanai clicks his tongue, his brows furrowing. “You better keep that promise,” he grunts, thumb grazing your bottom lip. “I won’t take no for an answer.” He growls as your walls clench around him.

“If that’s your wish, Master,” you purr, a slight chuckle following your words, “then it is my command.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #obanai iguro x reader #iguro obanai x reader #obanai iguro #iguro obanai #request

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mahizli · 3 years

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Tears of Steel (Satine & Obi-Wan, 20 BBY)

The art is not mine, but I confess I struggle with labelling the source correctly... This little fic is for Tessiete, because she loves Obitine and has taken the trouble to meet me here on Tumblr :).

Part 14 of ‘Sparks of Hope - A Star Wars Advent Calendar’

***

Rain was falling on the streets, drenching the Coruscanti pavement, hushing Satine’s steps as she was hurrying towards the theatre, face hidden under her garnet cloak.

She had learned to navigate the city, to enjoy the bittersweet secrecy in walking those streets alone, unseen and unknown – that city where she should have been closest to him but was only missing him more. Painfully and exquisitely.

Coruscant was his home, and the core of the war she fought against. The city where she defended neutrality, and where his Order resided, symbol of the Jedi and everything he embodied.

On Sundari, she could think of him. Here, it always felt like she was remembering him. Who he once was, and who he was now. What they had both chosen to be for each other.

A small harbour in a storm of iron and steel.

Satine knew she loved him, because she cherished even that – the unique feeling of loss and mourning for what could never be only he was able to stir. Refining her heart. Her mind. Her very soul.

Satine nodded to the Twi’lek scanning her ticket, and entered the performance hall, finding her seat and sitting down on the soft, worn velvet. She took off her cloak, folding it on the backrest, running a hand through her damp curls.

No eyeliner, no blush, no elaborate hair-dressing – Satine Kryze was no Duchess that night. She was just a woman, come to that somewhat out-dated, nostalgic Coruscanti hall, to listen to Old Twi’lek poetry. She had found the tract by accident, lying on the floor next to one of the Senate’s dustbins, and had decided she would go.

Because Ryloth had suffered – had lost homes and people to this war. And though the planet had chosen its side, only poets seemed to remember that some losses could not be replaced. A tiny voice in the storm Satine felt compelled to hear.

The room was small, but the seats were almost filled. Soon the lights went out, shadows throwing long lines on the walls, bathing the scene in soft, almost tender rays.

A grey-skinned, elder Twi’lek was sitting on a piano stool – and there was something in his eyes that instantly reminded Satine of her father. It was the same love for what was truly beautiful. For words. For what was right.

She was breathing out and choking at the same time, she was sitting here on Coruscant, and remembering storms on Sundari, where she had lost everything and rebuilt everything.

“And you walked smiling –

Artless –

Delighted –

Dripping wet in the rain -”

The Twi’lek was speaking the words softly, fingers caressing the keys, and Satine allowed tears to spring, falling silently on the ticket she was still holding.

“Remember that, my dear –

And don’t be angry if I talk to you –

I talk to all those I love –

Even if I’ve seen them only once –

I talk to all those who love –

Even if I don’t know them…”

She cried for the people who could have said these words. For those who had protected poets, musicians and warriors alike. She cried for the love in those lines, for the ideal it embodied – that exquisite sense of loss that crushed and hurt and cleansed and honed.

“Oh my dear –

What a senseless war –

What has happened to you now –

In this rain of iron – of fire of steel of blood –

And the one who held you in his arms –

Tightly, lovingly –

Is he dead, vanished, or maybe still alive…”

She wept for Obi-Wan, who was still alive, whose arms still sheltered her in rare, precious moments – because he had been dead, had vanished only to return, telling her it was a lie, a ruse, another Jedi mission. Because the boy she had fallen in love with and who could have written these words was a warrior now. Willingly and despite himself – and she missed him.

“Oh my dear –

It is raining endlessly, like it rained before –

But it is not the same and everything is ruined –

It is a rain of mourning, terrible and desolate –

It is not even a storm anymore, of iron, of steel, of blood –

Just simple clouds that die like dogs –

Dogs that disappear, along the water -

And will decay, far away, far, far away from here –

Where there is nothing left.”

Satine did not rise, when the song ended. She just sat, silent tears falling one after the other, on a ruined concert-ticket, and clapped her hands until her hands hurt. And the elderly, grey skinned Twi’lek kept singing, seemingly just for her, until Satine had no tears anymore.

Until she was breathing without choking, once more.

Because she could mourn and remember, yet move on and stand tall. As long as there were poets, and singers, and memories and rain.

She stayed seated even after the last applause, long after the lights returned, fingers tracing the edges of her ticket where the print had blurred. She stayed seated even when she heard soft footsteps behind her – because she was afraid to break that tiny link with the past.

With mourning and remembering.

She did look up, though, when gentle hands wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, when memories seemed to blur with the present, because he was standing just here, grey-eyed and auburn-haired. Crouching before her, and brushing a damp curl from her wet cheek in a tender gesture she recalled.

“You are not there”, she whispered, yet his fingers traced her cheekbones, and they were warm, and alive, with calluses she remembered and were so very him.

“But I am”, Obi-Wan answered – and it was his voice, it was his very smell, the warmth of his chest and the soft, tender skin of his neck under her fingers.

He let her bury her face against his heart, and she could feel it beating, could smell the plain Jedi-temple soap mingling with tea-leaves and him. He who was there, on leave or on a mission, Satine did not care, as long as he was there.

“I thought I was the only one sentimental enough to brave the storm for Old Twi’lek poetry, and yet…”

“Did you know I was there?”

She needed to know. Needed to know if he had seen her cry, sensed her sadness. Had been there all along, hiding once more.

“I was thinking of you”, Obi-Wan answered, quietly. “So I did not understand, at first. I thought the words had evoked you.”

“How long are you here…?”, Satine asked, voice broken, and Obi-Wan circled her back with his arms, drawing her against him.

“Long enough to see you home”, he answered, chin brushing against her hair.

Satine breathed out, for a few heartbeats more. And then she drew back, throwing a trembling smile at him, not caring for the trace of fallen tears.

“In the rain?”, she both quoted and asked.

And Obi-Wan brushed her cheeks and answered:

“Dripping water.”

She was smiling for real now, getting up, Obi-Wan raising with her in a fluid move, still holding her against him.

“Delighted.”, Satine whispered.

And Obi-Wan adjusted her cloak around her, and took her hand, leading her out of the room.

“But not artless”, he told her, softly.

Lovingly. Back in the Coruscanti streets, where the rain had stopped.

#star wars #fanfiction #obitine #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #obi wan x satine #love #hurt/comfort #loss #french poetry #Because the lyrics are actually 'Barbara' by Jacques Prévert

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years

Text

Sandwich Spot

Mark Renton x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: mentions of being an addict, mentions of heroin, cuss words, mentions of sex

Author’s Note: I love writing for Mark and I love writing for Danny so I did both because no one can stop me! But here is baby boy Mark being like the best boy

Requested: by anon, Hey bby can I ask you for a fluffy mark Renton piece or it can be Danny either or but just load that shit up with hella fluff

Summary: the request

Genre: fluff

Song:

(not my gif)

You were startled out of your daze state by the harsh sound of paper being slammed down on a plastic table. You looked up from the swirls of dried paint that had been edged into the surface and at the noise. There was a newspaper on the table now and it looked like it was still shaking from the force it had been put down with. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Begbie who had thrown it. He had anger problems.

“What is this shit?!” he yelled, like the table before him was now the writers of the New York Times. You were holed up in some run down bar, cramped into a booth as you usually were. You were practically sitting on Mark which neither of you minded much because it meant one; you weren’t sitting on Sick Boy on the other side of you and two; that you were sitting on Mark, your boyfriend. It was a loose term when you had both gotten clean, well aware that the state of being high was going to induce you to cheat on one another in the worst ways. But now that you were stone cold sober it seemed easier to fall into place with each other, like you were working around one anothers habits.

“‘Don’t know what’s in the newspaper Bagbi-”

“Shit! Shit is in that newspaper Spud.” He said Spud like it was a curse word which you didn’t think was quite fair to Spud. He was probably the nicest of the lot of you. But you didn’t say anything because it would do more harm than good at this point. Whatever Bagbie was worked up about wasn’t worth your time.

“Well you lot have fun with the news, we’ve got to head out,” Mark said, squeezing your bare arm. You didn’t protest but was aware you had nowhere to be. It was almost 3 in the afternoon and last you checked there wasn’t anything to do at 3 in the afternoon but sit with your friends and bitch about the news. Still you slid with Mark to the edge of the seat and hiked up your pants as you stood.

You pointed to one of the articles on the disheveled newspaper.

“Terrible about that...kid,” you said with a sly shrug. You almost thought that Bagbie was going to follow you out and shove a drink into your head but Mark was quick to take you out of the scene. You followed his rushed footsteps out the door.

The cold hair hit you with a rush, sending instant goosebumps through your exposed skin. You knew you should have grabbed a jacket but you liked this shirt and you wanted to show it off.

“Thought you might get beat the shit out of by Bagbie,” he said. You could see the air he breathed out it was so cold. You shivered again.

“If it wasn’t me it would be Spud poor lad,” you said through a shiver. Mark caught sight of your obvious show of coldness and threw an arm around you, warming you through body contact and friction as he rubbed your arm. You leaned into his touch easily.

“You could probably take it better than him,” he said with a chuckle. You smiled and followed in sync with his footsteps. You guessed he was walking back to his place or yours or something, but that was further downtown than you cared to walk.

“Lets go get some lunch,” you suggested. He raised an eyebrow as you looked up to gauge his reaction.

“What like a normal couple and shit?” he asked. You nodded, shrugging.

“Why not right? What else are we going to do, go back to your place, fuck then eat left overs from four nights ago?” His face gave him away. That was exactly what he had been planning to do if he was even thinking that far ahead.

“Quite like the fucking part,” he joked and you gave him a smile.

“Why can’t I get good food first? Might make me more energetic.” He seemed to like that idea which made you smile. His gears were turning in his head and you saw him pick up some speed.

“How about that place near the flat? That sandwich place you like so much,” he suggested and you nodded, following his pace. You were there in no time and you sat down in the corner next to the front window but enough to the side where the outsiders couldn’t see you but you could see them. It was a regular spot for you and when Mark managed to stick around for lunch he sat there too.

He walked to you, two sandwiches in hand. He sat across from you, taking a sip from the soda and then taking a huge bite from his sandwich. You took a smaller bite, watching him as he ate hungrily. This place was usually pretty cheap for the amount of food it provided which made it ideal for high Y/N and high Mark. Now that you were both sober you managed to look at it differently, just for a moment.

Mark sure looked better than he did when he was high. Sometimes his eyes would sink in and then they would glaze over. You had never really bothered to look at yourself when you were high, never caring you supposed. But now you paid more attention to his face, the way his hair was buzzed off, the crop top that barely clung to his thin frame and the jacket that seemed almost too big for him.

He took out a cigarette and you took out your lighter, lighting it for him without him having to ask.

“Whatcha staring at?” he asked, putting the smoke between his lips and taking a long breath in. You shrugged and took a bite of your sandwich.

“M’ boy’iend,” you said chewing. He rolled his eyes, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He gave you a fake loopy grin that was borderline genuine.

“Like what you see?” he asked cockily. Your eyes went wide as you nodded.

“Oh ‘course. Handsomest boy in town,” you told him. He almost blushed, you could see it, but he suppressed it to avoid being caught. You knew him too well though.

“Well that ain’t fokin right if Sick Boy is still a few streets down,” he said cheekily. You rolled your eyes, putting the sandwich down to assert full attention. You leaned over the table a little bit so you faces were close and trailed a line from his adams apple to his lips. You put your thumb on his lower lip and smiled, kissing him softly.

When you pulled away and sat back down he shook his head in a sort of disbelief.

“Bullshit I got you. You sure you got the right guy?” he asked and you rolled your eyes.

“Lemme check. Mark Renton right? Heroin addict who’s a sucker for telling people to choose life when he never does?”

“That is an irony joke and you know it,” he said but his fond smile made you grin. You both laughed a little at the other for no specific reason other than you were happy. Happy for a second in your pathetic lives.

“Maybe we’ll make love when we get back to the flat,” he suggested, finishing off the sandwich. You raised an eyebrow, arms crossed over your chest.

“God, don’t tell me Mark Rentons goin soft!”

“Fine we’ll just fuck,” he said with a smile. You got up moved across the small table to his side, giving him a hand.

“Make love Renton and you’ll be stuck with me,” you announced. He took your hand and jumped up, hitting your chest as he steadied himself on the ground.

“Maybe I wanna be stuck with you,” he said. You smiled, leading him out the door.

“Once an addict always an addict. Just for other things.” He threw an arm around you again and you crossed your arms.

“Right back at you.”

Part 2

#mark renton imagines #mark renton x reader #trainspotting imagines

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jeremystrele · 3 years

Text

A Day In The Life Of Chrissy Lafian, Founder And Creative Director Of Suku

A Day In The Life

by Sally Tabart

Chrissy Lafian, founder and creative director of SUKU home, outside their new flagship store! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Flowers by Blossom Bby at the SUKU store. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Chrissy uses SUKU as an opportunity to collaborate with many other creatives, like florist Blossom Bby whose bouquets are featured here. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

The beautiful SUKU flagship store, Dream Baby! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Chrissy wrapping orders at the SUKU store. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Chrissy, interior designer Natalie Held, her partner Chris and Christopher Scott of Chair Boi. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Chrissy employs 8 staff across the Melbourne and Bali offices who handle the retail side of the business, and 25 production staff in Bali. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

The SUKU showroom in store at Dream Baby. Lamp by CCSS. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Chrissy and some of the SUKU Melbourne team around the lunch table. Jug by Soft Edge Studio. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Working on new patterns from the latest SUKU range, In Full Bloom. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Chrissy at home on a Skype meeting with her team in Bali. Artwork by Katie Eraser. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Chrissy Lafian first launched her brand SUKU 7 ago, as a creative side hustle while working full-time at a high-end fashion retailer. Back then SUKU was producing a small range of bedding, sold pretty much exclusively online. Today the SUKU world encompasses bedding, tableware, fashion, and even incense, designed in Melbourne and manufactured in Indonesia. ‘I was born in Indonesia and grew up in Australia, so I guess I am kind of a SUKU product too’ she says!

In late October 2020, just one week before lockdown ended in Melbourne, Chrissy signed the lease on her very first Melbourne store on Gertrude Street, Fitzroy. ‘I remember some people kept saying to me that it would be impossible to open the space before Christmas but I was like, we should at least try to aim for it’, recalls Chrissy. ‘I wasn’t taking no for an answer.’ With interior designer Natalie Held, and her partner Chris, along with Christopher Scott from Chair Boi on the shop build, they started ‘the impossible one month project’. The SUKU flagship store, Dream Baby, opened two weeks before Christmas!

Between the 8 staff Chrissy employs across the Melbourne and Bali offices, as well as the 25 person production team in Bali, efficient time management is critical. But for Chrissy, the real key to success has been getting the right people on board, and letting them do their thing. ‘When you work with a team across continents, you really cannot try to micromanage everyone, you just have to trust your team’, she says.

Fuelled by creativity, independence, and a genuine desire to create something special, Chrissy lets us in on her day-to-day!

First Thing

I’m not an early morning person, I wake up at 8am. That’s pretty late. The first things I do are drink coffee and exercise. I do F45 regularly, reformer pilates at Good Times and mat pilates at Club Ronny at home when I am working from home. High intensity workouts like F45 really help me with my mental health, I struggled a bit last year when I couldn’t do this at home.

I like to take it slow and easy in the morning before I do my exercise.

Morning

I start work between 10-11am (ish!). The first few tasks of the day are checking emails and writing down my to-do list for the day, then setting up meetings with my team to plan the week/day.

I burn incense in the office to get me in the mood. My work requires me to be creative, make decisions, and be in the right headspace most of the time. That’s why creating a nice space to work from is important for me, this includes a space that smells nice with lots of natural light.

Lunch

I am a lot better now, but I used to always forget to take a lunch break when I was working. Now I make sure to take a break around 12 or 1pm. I love the Vietnamese café, 2T café, next door to the store. They make the yummiest food!

Afternoon

Most days I don’t finish work until 7pm because I also have to work on Indonesia time and the time difference means I have to still be in contact with the team later in my day. Hence why I start my morning pretty slow and late.

My energy levels depend on when I do my exercise. I feel energised after I finish exercising – which is why I like to do my exercise in the morning.

Evening

Normally I finish work by 7pm, but on a busy day I might not be done until 9pm. Dinner depends on who feels like cooking that day… 100% pasta if my partner cooks. I like to take some time out of my day to read a book, or on a really busy day, a glass of red wine in the afternoon always helps!

To switch off, I have to put my phone down!

Last Thing

I usually go to sleep after midnight, I can’t fall asleep before 12.

Chrissy at home with her beloved dog Manja! Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Lighting incense gets Chrissy in the zone. Plate by Soft Edge Studio. Incense holder by is a collaboration between SUKU and Comfy Shrooms. Photo – Amelia Stanwix.

Right now I’m listening to, watching, and reading…

Listening: SUKU Mix Bloom and Gloom by Dita Watching: Nothing at the moment, I wish I had the time to. Reading: Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro.

I get my best work done when…

I’m under pressure. This is so weird but it’s true, maybe because I become more focused when I have an upcoming deadline.

My productivity tool/tip is…

You can have it all, but only one thing at a time. Meaning, do something, do it well, perfect it… then move onto the next stage.

Something I learned the hard way is…

That people will come and go in your life, at the end of the day you have to trust yourself and your instincts.

What is your advice for someone who wants to start their own business, but is afraid to take the leap?

Hard decisions are only hard when you’re in the process of making them. Once you’ve taken the leap, it’s not hard anymore… it’s just life.

Shop SUKU online or visit Chrissie at the SUKU store, Dream Baby, on Gertrude Street, Fitzroy!

Dream Baby, SUKU Home 128 Gertrude Street Fitzroy, Victoria

Monday – Saturday, 11am – 5pm Sunday 11am – 4pm

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