#I know i'll be better posting often and with a schedule

[bibiscate]

yooo so I started working on this when I finished reading Sleuth Jesters by @naffeclipse (not sure if you okay with tagging, i'll delete if not) some weeks ago and it absolutely destroyed my heart :D

the scene where they ran after the Vigilante after discovering their "secret"? Tears??? At 4AM??? More likely than you think!!

so yeah this piece is based on that scene, yes I took very long, yes I forgot to post it, kiss kisss muah

Edit: forgot to credit @sunnys-aesthetic, who made the Detective AU Sleuth Jesters is based on!! :D

If the tag edit doesn't work I might reblog this with the tagging later

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.

[writingquestionsanswered]

IDK how many people are running the account, but if you or a member of the team running the account has ADHD, do you have any tips for ADHD writers, particularly when trying to get WIPs done? Outlines don't work for me like 99% of the time ;_;

Tips for Writing with ADHD

Here's what works for me, but your mileage may vary...

1 - Know What Outline Works for You - You say outlines don't work for you 90% of the time, but what type of outline are you using? Many people hear the word "outline" and imagine an academic outline with roman numerals and bullet points, but that's not what most fiction writers mean when they talk about using an outline. For fiction writers, outlines can be anything from a beginning to end written summary, to a scene list, to a detailed timeline. My post How to Outline a Plot has some different things you can try. Ultimately, there's no right or wrong way to outline your story. Anything that works as a "road map" to guide you through your story can help.

2 - Pants When You've Got to Pants - Some writers are "pantsers" or in other words, they prefer not to go off an outline. Some don't even plan in advance. They "write by the seat of their pants" and let the story take them where it may. For some writers, it depends on the specific story they're working on. Some stories might require planning, others might work better if you pants them. What works for me is understanding my needs (what type of story I'll usually need to plan/outline ahead of time, and what type of story I can pants) and then planning/pantsing accordingly. If I spent time outlining a story that I could easily pants, it would definitely take the wind out of my writing sails.

3 - Schedule Your Writing Time... Sort Of... - For me, I can't just rely on myself to write when the mood strikes me. If I did that, I'd never get any writing done. So for me, it's important to have a dedicated writing time each day. That doesn't even have to mean my butt's in the chair writing from this time to this time, it just means I'll do my best to write during whatever span of time. So, let's say this week you're home every day from 2pm until 6pm and some of that time is free time. That's going to be a good time to write, so you could say you're going to sit down every day at 3pm to write. Or, you could do 10-minute writing springs every hour, or every other hour. Or you could say you'll write when the mood strikes you, but definitely from 5:30 to 6 if you didn't get it done earlier.

4 - Try Random Writing Sprints - Writing sprints in general can be a good way for people with ADHD to write. You can schedule them or you could do them when the mood strikes. Get a timer and set it to whatever works for you... 5-minutes, 10-minutes, 30-minutes, whatever. Then just set it and go when you have time. Even if you don't feel like writing, getting into that habit will make it easier to write as soon as the timer comes out.

5 - Don't Give Yourself a Hard Time - One of the most profound things I ever heard about writing resistance is that it's often the product of writing feeling stressful. In other words, the idea of writing causes you stress, so your brain says, "Avoid! Avoid!" and you sit down to write and nothing happens. One of the ways we make writing stressful for ourselves is by giving ourselves a hard time when we don't write or don't write as much as we wanted. So, just do the best you can and congratulate yourself on small victories. Find ways to make writing fun and relaxing rather than stressful and like a chore.

Bonus - Sometimes the problem isn't ADHD but something else. My post 5 Reasons You Lost Interest in Your WIP, Plus Fixes! has some other things to consider.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[icypopz]

caught in 4k ♡

↬ request from anon ; I love your writing for blue lock and i was wondering if you could write a Rin x actress reader when they're adults and they get caught by the media somehow. ↬ notes ; itoshi rin x gn reader ↬ from ice ; pretends like i haven't been gone for months... anyways here's my grand comeback that literally no one asked for but this req was so cute i rlly wanted to write it 🥹 hope u enjoy ! ↬ warning(s) ; none

please reblog w comments ! it helps a lot :)

itoshi rin has always been a private person. he rarely shares anecdotes from his life with his friends, let alone the paparazzi. his fans constantly complain that they're starved for content, because despite the fact that he's one of the most famous football players in the world, he somehow manages to keep his schedule entirely under wraps and often downright refuses to do interviews. (the only way to get him on camera is to invite him for a joint interview with sae.)

his tendency to keep his personal life a secret is exactly why it comes as such a shock when it's revealed that he's dating you.

actually, 'revealed' is the wrong word to use when in reality, the both of you were spotted leaving a popular restaurant together by a pesky journalist. he snapped pictures of rin holding your hand, offering you his jacket, opening the car door for you... and the next morning they were all over the internet, splashed across the front page of all the major news websites. #itoshi rin is in a relationship?! was the number one trending topic for days.

the amount of attention showered upon the two of you is actually unsurprising, considering how you've been at the peak of fame ever since you recently took on a role that went viral. pair that with the fact that you're dating the most mysterious football player? it's a miracle they didn't hear about it in space! both your fanbases were gushing about how adorable you are together and they're always eager for crumbs of interaction between you two in public.

in private, rin groans and grumbles about how annoying it is to have a spotlight shining on your dating life, but he's secretly happy that you both don't have to hide your relationship anymore now that it's out in the open. he likes the idea that everyone knows he's yours, and you're his.

in public, he's as aloof and cold as ever to every enthusiastic interviewer that dares cross his path. the only time he visibly softens is when they mention you, and a hint of a smile will curve his lips. rin gets angry if they even imply that you're leeching off his fame, or you're a gold-digger, or you're trying to get close to his brother through him - he never fails to set the record straight immediately. the two of you love each other, and maybe these journalists' time would be better spent trying to find someone to love them instead of trying to ruin someone else's relationship. (his pr manager is at her wits' end).

overall, rin is not too bothered by the fact that your relationship ended up becoming public knowledge. of course he would have preferred it to be on both of your terms, but now that it's happened he just rolls with it. as long as you're happy, he's happy.

help i swear i'll be active now HAHAHA i won't disappear for a year again ,,, and btw i cannot believe my last post was over a year ago tf

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠 © icypopz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way.

[russellsppttemplates]

From the start, it was you (George Russell)

The heart doesn't seem to choose by team colours

Note: english is not my first language. This is the first driver!reader I've ever written, so I hope I've done a good job. Also, I did not plan to post this piece specifically now, but seems fitting with the whole shitshow that has been going on the past couple of days. Also, this is a plot I've seen written a lot, so I know there are many other pieces that are way better, and hopefully my take on it isn't too bad!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: race collision, medical exams, curse words, gender inequality comments

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

Your purple race suit made you stand out amongst all of the other kids as you walked back from the podium, proudly smiling at your trophy, "Y/N! We're here!", you heard your father as he waved so you'd know where they stood, "congratulations, darling! That was an impressive overtake you did there in the last lap!", he praised, scratching your head before placing a kiss there, "I was trying to get first, but I couldn't get it", you admitted it, looking sideways at the boy who you couldn't take the first place from.

George Russell was a tall boy, same age as you, so you often raced against eachother. While you had become friends with some of the other kids, Russell wasn't one of them. It began when you tried to congratulate him for his P3 a few years ago, stretching your hand out politely, a smile on your face as he turned his back to you, mumbling something as he walked towards his parents. So, you weren't the best of friends if anyone asked.

"Y/N, darling, go stand next to the boys so I can take a picture of you! It will be such a good memory for when you're older!", your mother said excitedly, making you, George and the boy that finished his race behind you on each of your sides, smiling at the camera and hoping it would be as quick as possible, not wanting to stand next to him for a second longer than you should.

.

"I have your media day schedules here", Mary said as she handed you and Oscar your respective schedules, "Y/N, you're going to get interviewed with Charles, Yuki, George and Fernando", she stated as she then moved on to Oscar, explaing a few things to him since he was going first.

"And Y/N, while you're in there, try not to kill George, even with your eyes, okay?", she advised, tapping your shoulder softly as you looked at her sideways, "last time you were both in the same panel, you managed to be out of qualifying", she nodded, "only because our car wasn't that reliable, and we all know how theirs is", you pointed out, smiling sweetly and hoping to get on her side, "you're lucky you don't annoy me too much, Y/N", she smiled back.

The team had made many improvements to the car, granting you and Oscar the possibility to aim for higher places on the grid, and since you were a nerd about all things engineering, too, you loved when you were asked about the topic. But lately, the questions about the car seemed to get asked to your teammate Oscar, leaving the excuse that "the journalists already have the information they need", and because they didn't want to be accused of not asking you questions like it had happened before, it seemed to divert to other topics.

"Y/N, here", one of the journalists waved, grabbing your attention, "With the recent events and new propositions from the F1 Academy, do you think the sport is going to suffer from having a bigger opportunity that's being given to women in motorsport?", your heard him say, making your blood boil.

Despite the constant raised awareness for gender discrimination and discrimination in motorsport, especially in the last couple of years, some people still had it pretty engraved in their system, and while sometimes it came out looking a little bit more subtle, this one didn't even bother to soften the edges.

You'd be lying if you said this was the first time you heard these comments directed at you, or that you thought it would be the last, no matter how much you wished some sort of disciplinary measure was taken, "I woul-", you began before you heard a loud clash on the floor and felt water on your legs. The trousers you were wearing were soaked around your thighs and knees as George got up to grab the bottle that belonged to him, "I'm so sorry, Y/N", he apoligised as he put the lid back on, "I think it's best if we call it a day, hm? The next group needs to have this cleaned before they come in here", the Mercedes driver said as everyone seemed to agree and get up, bidding goodbye as Charles and George stayed until the end.

"Careful, don't slip", the monegasque driver said, making sure you wouldn't fall and walking out of the room with you, "figures the guy wouldn't even be here to check if everything's fine", you muttered as Charles chuckled, "you two really are like the cat and the mouse".

"He's not even here! He just flew off to his fancy room to delight in the joy of making fun of me", you grumbled, bidding goodbye to Charles as you found yourself by the entrance of Ferrari.

Walking the distance to meet your team, Mary was the first to get you, "I'm sorry they asked that", she said, "it's a good thing Russell spilled his drink", she teased, knowing you wouldn't want to dwell on the comments for long. It hardly solved the problem and you'd look into it in the team meeting when the time called for it, "promise you won't take him out in the race?".

Laughingly at her assumption and the fact that she had managed to pull you out of your misery as you walked to you driver's room, "don't worry, and tell the guys downstairs to now worry either, they're not going to have to build me a new car either", you flashed a smile before closing the door, changing into another pair of trousers you had brought with you.

.

"You're starting P4, Y/N", your race engineer said over the radio, "we are going to give it our all to support you and help you".

"And I'm going to drive the beat I can for you guys. Today, we get orange flying around and its going to be because of the Papaya team", you smiled under your helmet, "Oscar is P6, so I think we can even aim for a Podium, depends on how things go", you said.

As soon as the lights went out, you reacted quickly and passed the car that had been sitting next to yours, your race engineer confirming your third place and giving you a run down of all the grid changes.

"Do us proud, you're doing well, good pace", you heard on your speakers. You were enjoying the drive, analysing the data without team and looking for the right opportunity to overtake Charles, "go after the next turn, Y/N. Charles' tyres are not looking so good, so we think you have the upper hand there. George's car seems to be having some issues, too, he won't go after you", the pit wall channeled in your radio.

You looked in your mirrors as you were about to make the overtake, having patiently waited to reach the specific turn and going with it, confident that you would be able to overtake the red car.

A fraction of a second, you would always say, was game changing in Formula One. A decision to overtake or stay back, to accept the call to the pits or a new strategy, sometimes all it took was less than a second. And it also took less than a second for your car to start spinning, making you remove your hands from your steering wheel and brace yourself for the collision that would soon enough happen.

The impact wasn't as hard as you had expected, having felt most of it in your hips and shoulders. Groaning, you opened your eyes to see the damage, hearing "Y/N, can you tell us if you are okay?" over the radio.

Pressing the button, you heard the equipment's buzz, "I'm okay. I'm sorry about the car, guys", you gulped, adjusting yourself, "another car tapped me, right? Are they okay?", you asked, "George's fine from what we've heard".

After the marshalls confirmed you were free to go with the medical car to get checked over, you were back in the hospitality as the race continued, "doctor said I'll have some bruises, nothing too bad though", you gave them the report as you apoligised and thanked everyone on your side of the garage.

"Turns out they'll have to build you a new car after all", Mary offered as she hugged you, "if Russell had been more careful, this could've ended differently", you groaned.

"From what I've heard, he was trying a risky move and the car had an issue and locked up. He lost control of it and his front wing tapped your rear wheels just about enough to cause the crash", she explained, "it's not like he purposefully wanted to take you out", she reasoned.

"I know, it's just not ideal", you sighed, "we could both be in there". On the screen, Oscar was sitting P2, having successfully overtaken Charles a few laps in after the race resumed.

Even though George was far from your friend, you still wanted to check if he was okay, specially after seeing the impact the crash had on his car, too.

Walking to the Mercedes hospitality, a few people stopped you on your tracks briefly to express their relief on seeing you up and about and wishing you well before you found yourself by the glass doors.

"Is George here? I'd like to see if he's doing alright, but only if that's okay, I'm sure you're busy", you asked one of the media girls, Holly, recognising her from previous encounters.

"He's in his driver's room, yes, let me walk you there", she smiled, walking with you and knocking on the door, "George, may I come in?", she asked before he gave a positive answer, "Y/N is here, she wanted to talk to you", she stated, backing up so you could be seen, "yes, that's alright", the tall man said as Holly held out her arm, gesturing you to walk inside the room as she closed the door behind her, most likely going back to work on the race content.

"Hey", you waved awkwardly, "I don't have any other way to contact you, and asking your team how you were didn't seem... right? So, yeah, I came here", you gulped, suddenly feeling a weird pressure to act properly, whatever that meant.

"I'm good, barely got a scratch since I was able to stop the car before it hit the barriers", George explained, "and you? It looked pretty bad", he checked.

"I have some bruises, I think the adrenaline is slowing down now, so it's a bit painful, but nothing major", you clarified.

"The car had some issue and there was not way to control it, I just let it go because there wasn't anything I could do. I'm very glad you're okay", he half smiled as he looked at you.

In all the years you've known him and interacted with him, there had never been a time where he was this relaxed and smiley around you, not even when he had overtaken you in the last lap of the race. And while it was new, it was also comfortable.

"Me too, it looked scarier than it felt, though", you offered as he grabbed his water bottle to take a sip from it, "Oh, close the lid properly on that one", you chuckled playfully, not imagining the backlash and reaction it would have.

The new and comfortable mood turned back to the old and expecting one.

"Do you really think I'm that clumsy to drop a bottle like that? I wanted to get us out of there, to get you out of there because they were asking sexist questions", he stated, "and I didn't do it because I thought you couldn't defend yourself, because you sure know how to stop your foot and put it down, but because they don't deserve your time like that. Hell, I wish you spent that little time with me instead!", George yelled out, not missing your shocked expression, "maybe there was a time that I didn't like how you just showed up and got things done, but in the end, it's not because it's you, or because you're a woman. I wanted to be the one to show up and get things done, because I admire you so much", he gulped.

"So you're saying it's my fault that I've been labelled a bad sport because we constantly fight out there? That's why you've hated me?", your defensive side turned up, not dwelling on his kind words.

"I'm not saying it is either of our fault! I'm just trying to explain to you that I don't hate you like you think I do", he put his hands on his hips, walking around his room, "you might hate me, and that's fine, you know? I'm not going to be the one to tell you how you should feel, that's not how it works, but I have never hate you.

"I might've said I hated you when we were little, but that's because you probably stole my place on the podium, and even that was probably well deserved. I never thought I'd feel like this about you", he concluded.

"And what is it that you feel about me? Because I would like a warning should you want to beat me up to deal with all it is that you're feeling...?", you gestured to his stance. Was he saying he didn't hate you? Did he have other feelings that were actually in the happiness section of the emotion wheel and not near the anger section?

Chuckling, he approached you, "I have had feelings for you since we started driving in F2. At first I thought it was just the thrill of the competition and of having someone to challenge me, and when you got the Mclaren seat, I was so happy that you'd be racing against me", he further offered, "I don't know when it came out that we hated eachother, and when you didn't seem to feel otherwise, I tried to hate you, or at least dislike you, and it wasn't working, so I just let it go however it went, and it's led me here. And I'm being honest with you, so laugh all you want, or deal with it however you want to", he raised his hands as he excused himself.

"George, I nerve said anything because I can't afford to say those things. How many rivalries have you seen in motorsport? So many, and many more that are not written in books and shown off in videos. And none of them have apoligies to offer, or rather, the very few that have done it, turned out okay. But if I was the one to talk about it? A female driver talking about how she cares that her colleagues and her have a good relation and that they don't hate eachother like the press wants people to believe?", you scoffed, "That's not on my books, that's not something I can consider.

"And I don't hate you, George. For Goodness' sake, I came here to see of you were alright. Any other person would've yelled that you ruined their race, but I understand that there are things we can't control and shit like this happens. It sucks, but that's how it is. Like Charles says all the time, 'sometimes it's like this'", you giggled, "I actually think you're a pretty decent guy", you blushed.

Over the years, the bickering had only spurred you on even more, and maybe it wasn't just the thrill of seeing him so on edge that made you continue to do so.

"So you're saying you've never hated me?",

George said as he offered you his chair to sit down as he prepared tea for both of you, "Maybe I didn't like you so much when we did karting, but that was just because you were really tall and actually gave me fair competition", you winked.

[intriq]

dc universe characters but your their ex, and they want you back

could be hurt/comfort, maybe fluff. angst? idk, unsure about how to label this one chief

if you want to see any other characters in here, lmk via comment or send me an ask! [they are always open for requests n stuff, so feel free to send them] and i'll make sure to get them in here!

Also, big thanks to my beta readers: Lilac, Void, My bestie, and bat brat apollo! they helped make sure these didn't fall too out of character.

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎‎ㅤ╔⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤╗

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤBruce...

...at first, didn't realize just how miserable he'd feel after you guys broke up. Well, after he broke up with you.

He thought that you being possibly tied in to his life as Batman would make things oh so dangerous, and that maybe you'd be better off without him. And that just maybe he'd be better off without you.

But boy was he wrong.

After day one, he missed your presence.

After day three, he started missing your touch. Hugs, kisses, cuddles, the works.

After one week he missed seeing you whenever he came back to Wayne manor after patrol or whenever he'd had a long day being out and about Gotham, whether as just his regular self or patrolling the streets, fighting crime as Batman.

By week two, not even focusing on patrolling could keep you off his thoughts. It didn't exactly help that he knew your schedule. Actually, not even just knew. He had it memorized.

So he'd find himself particularly drawn to patrolling the area around where you lived more often, sometimes even doubling back to the area. Sometimes even three times.

Of course, it took a full month [and seeing you going on your first date since the break-up] for him to take action. He'd started sending gifts at first. Small things that you liked, whether it be books or lots and lots of flowers.

Then the gifts just got more and more expensive, more grandeur. After all, he is a billionaire, so it wouldn't hurt his bank account. Plus, it was a gift for you. So why wouldn't he?

If you still didn't take him back then, he starts sending you texts. Just cute little things such as "i miss you" and whatnot.

And then the in-person confessions, gift giving, and what-not started after. He'd drop by [after making sure no one was around to see at least three times] your apartment while he was in his full Batman getup, bringing you some smaller, easier to hide away things like bracelets and necklaces.

And during the day, he'd be where ever he'd knew you'd be. Whether it was your apartment, your job, anywhere, he'd personally come deliver you yet another gift.

Takeout from your favorite place? He's brought it to you for lunch.

He saw you post about something [whether it be a stuffed animal, jewelry, etc] on social media because it's cool or cute? It's been hand delivered to you by him.

"I saw you talking about how much you wanted these, so I got them for you. Why..? Because I miss you."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤTim...

...was devastated when you broke up with him. He didn't realize that all this work being a vigilante that made him miss out on oh so many dates had taken as big of a toll on your relationship as it did.

And by the time he'd realized, the cracks had already formed, and you'd broken up with him. You wanted a partner who could meet you half-way, even if he was a little busy at times.

But that didn't stop him from immediately trying to win you back. Gifts? You've got it. Whether they were bought or handmade, it didn't really matter. He'd get you something.

Not to mention the texts, phone calls, voicemails, everything. He's going the full nine yards to show you just how sorry he is, and just how badly he wants you back.

"I know I've said I was sorry so many times, but I really am! I promise I'll do everything in my power to be there for our date nights, so please take me back.."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤDick...

...definitely wasn't expecting for you to break up with him. Sure, he's been in plenty of relationships before, but he'd never expected you to get the courage to tell him you wanted to break up.

He didn't even realize he missed you as much as he did until one night while patrolling, a month or two after your break-up, he saw you walking along the streets of Gotham.

And damn were you still as pretty as the first time he saw you. In fact, scratch that, as pretty as the last time he saw you. Which was when you broke up with him.

So from then on, when Gotham is just a little less quiet and he can afford to do a little slacking off, he walks with you. You had this weird routine of walking for an hour at night, anyway.

At first he made small-talk. Asked you how your day was, why you were taking a walk [he already knew why. he just wanted to hear that pretty voice of yours more!], how you'd been since the break-up, if you were seeing anyone [this was extremely important and he'd express why after a bit of prompting], as one does.

Then it ramps up to him telling you how much he missed you, how pretty and attractive you were still, the works. He then ramps up to just blatant flirting, maybe even making sure he was touching you in some way, like an arm around your shoulder. Or maybe even subtly holding your hand under the premise of him wanting to show you something that you didn't know the way to.

And after that, if you still didn't miss him enough to take him back? He's just obvious. Asking you on dates, showing up to your home with gifts, everything. He'll go the whole nine yards for you, just so you'll take him back.

"Aww, c'mon! Just one date, sweetheart. Please? I promise that if you don't want me back after just one date I won't bother you again."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤJason...

...definitely didn't want to admit he wanted you back until it's been nearly six months since you broke up, and words going around that your starting to date again.

This pisses him off, for reasons he wasn't sure about.

So before you know it, he's popping up just about everywhere. Getting him to admit he missed you and regretted the breakup is no easy feat, and you'll likely not ever get him to admit it out loud.

I can't really see Jason making any grand or large gestures, just small little ones that maybe have some sort of sentimental value.

He'd probably drop by your home every now and then. If he's hurt in some way, you bet your ass he's right there on your fire escape, knocking on your window to let him in.

Even if it's just something so incredibly minor he could take care of himself, he's using it as an excuse to see you again.

While he's not totally experienced with being overly romantic, he's got his moments of being just a little bit sappy.

"Why go through the hard work and trouble of finding someone else if I'm right here?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤBabs...

...wasn't expecting to miss you after you two broke things off. She figured she'd be fine on her own, but she was quickly proven wrong.

I can see her giving gifts, but she'd be more-so trying to spend as much time as she could with you. Texts, both early morning and late night phone calls, voicemails about how much she regrets breaking up, and probably more.

Lot's of "I miss you" and "I still like/love you" texts, maybe some "Can we please get back together?" texts mixed as well.

She'll make how much she misses you known.

"Please come back, I miss our little movie date nights."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤStephanie...

...is just like Jason in a way, when it comes to realizing she misses having you around.

But she does come to terms with the fact that she misses you. She'll be a little hesitant to admit it in words, but she'll make it known in small gestures.

The breakup was definitely amicable, so you two are kind of just awkwardly still friends. But any time you two hangout, it borderlines being a date.

Movies? Only if it's something that will remind you of stuff you two liked to watch together when you were dating.

Going for a walk? She'll make sure you two just so happen to pass by a spot you guys went to for your first date.

She'll even still pretend to "accidentally" call you by the nicknames she had for you whilst you were dating.

But if even that doesn't work, she'll just start making you two "hangout" at places you've gone to for dates before.

"Wow, this place hasn't changed a bit since the last time we were here, huh? Brings back memories."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤCassandra...

...of course, isn't really sure what to do when she notices she's missing you. You were probably one of her first relationships, which just only adds onto her confusion of what to do.

She'd probably go seek Babs and Stephanie out for advice, asking them what they think she should do. Just what she should do.

After getting advice from the two, she thinks it over for a little bit before she starts anything. She probably also tries to feel you out to check if you feel the same way she does.

And if you do, or if she finds out your unsure, she starts giving you small gifts. And I mean small. Just mostly little trinkets and knickknacks that she finds while out and about.

Buttons? Pins? Small figurines, no bigger than the palm of your hand? She's getting them for you.

Of course, this is to help her just get a little confidence before she drops the question about getting back together.

And when she does drop the question, she tries to make it sound like she's being genuine. She probably brought another small little gift, maybe one of your favorite snacks.

"I know you said you liked these when we were together, right? I know you may think I wasn't really.. paying attention, but most of the time, but I promise I was. And I'm sorry I didn't do that great of a job of showing you that I cared about you. Please take me back?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤKate Kane..

...is both similar to Stephanie and Jason. While she'll think she's better off without you, there's almost a constant reminder of you somewhere in her world.

And it just draws her back to you.

It's very much a push and pull sort of thing with her, as some days she's fully willing to admit just how much she misses you and wants you back, while others she'd never admit to even a word of it.

She'll also bring you sentimental gifts sometimes. Mostly just leaves them somewhere she knows only you will find them with a little note attached.

Though the contents of the little notes will greatly vary from "I miss you", "I know you like these so I got them for you", to just her name sometimes.

Saw these and thought of you. -K

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤDinah Lance...

...is most definitely bold and maybe even a little bit flirty. When she realized that she definitely wasn't ready to move on from you quite yet, she put all her effort into wooing you back.

She'd probably try to play off the fact you two are suddenly running into each other at things you like, it's really just so she can see you again. Making you unintentionally [but kind of purposefully] think of her again whenever you thought about the things you like.

After a bit of this, though, she just downright starts asking you out to dates. If she knows certain places hold sentimental value because they were your favorite date spots with her, she'll ask you on a date to there again.

"Oh? Didn't know you were coming here today. Maybe it's a sign you should just let me take you on a date today."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤHelena Bertinelli...

...wasn't usually the type to dwell on her exes. But you? You were all that was on her mind after the breakup.

While she spends many a night deleting text after text, trying to come up with the right set of sentences to tell you just how much she misses you and wants you back, she does eventually send something.

And from there she just gets a little bolder.

Lingering touches, like her hand grazing against yours if you are handing her something. Staring at you for just a few seconds longer than needed, all that stuff.

It does take her a bit of time to get the confidence to just straight up asking you out on another date, though when she does, she's already got it all planned out.

"Do you still like that one restaurant we went to for our anniversary? .... Why? Oh, well, I wanted to make sure I didn't need to cancel the reservation I made."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤDiana

...didn't have thoughts of missing you. At first.

She did start thinking of you again when you two were assigned on a mission together. And all it did was really get you stuck in her head.

The way you looked, whether it was the way you fight or just generally how you look in your vigilante costume? It just kept replaying in her head over and over again.

So now anytime your out and about doing your own thing, under your vigilante guise? She's found an excuse to be joining you.

Whether that excuse is "you looked like you needed help", or "my patrols been pretty quiet, so I thought I'd join you", she's always got some excuse you can't argue back about.

Eventually she starts dropping hints about wanting to get back together with you. But whether she's good at dropping these hints or not is entirely up to how oblivious you could be.

Eventually she just tires out of dropping hints and just makes you look at her when she just drops the question. Think of the classic "grabbing your chin and turning your head to look at them" kind of deal.

"How about we go out this Sunday, hmm? ... Yes, on a date. What, did you think I was going to ask you to patrol with me or something?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ➶ ｡˚ 　　°

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤDamian...

...most definitely is stubborn when it comes to your break-up. He doesn't even want to entertain the thought that the reason he might be so grouchy whenever he sees you talking to someone else, or hears about how you may be crushing on someone else, is because he misses you. And is jealous, of course.

Even the sheer mention of your name around him, whether it be from his older brothers [mainly Dick because he is most certainly the teasing older brother type], he get's all grouchy and almost pouty.

He does try to help you out around school, though. He may act all mean and cold towards you, he'll act like he's "reluctantly" helping you out.

"you can't be trusted to carry this stuff," he'll try and say as he takes that stack of chairs, books, whatever it is in your hands away to do it himself. His hidden little agenda is that he's hoping you'll miss him because of him helping you out.

His "compliments" aren't always easily understood as such, though. "You didn't do terrible, for once" he might say as he hands you your graded test.

In order for him to get the courage to ask you out again, though, will definitely take some coaxing. [And maybe some teasing from Dick, too]

But when he does, it's a 50/50 chance of him saying it in a sweet way, or in his usual cold and almost brat-like demeanor.

"If I take you out on a date, will that get you to shut up for at least five minutes?"

‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ‎‎‎ㅤ╚⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝

[ravixen]

hello! i just read you svt forgetting about date thread and its so good! Would like to request for the remaining members reactions if possible 🥹 thank you!!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

svt + forgetting your date (pt 3)

➔ reaction || requested

➔ warnings: none || 0.9k words ➔ notes: general, fluff ; yep! excited to get this series completed and out of the way. if you liked the reactions, please reblog :) for any new followers, please make sure to read my pinned post.

SEUNGCHEOL: he often jokes that money can solve the world's biggest problems, and for the most part, it's true...when the problem is jeonghan's desire for fancy items. but when the problem is him not showing up to a date that he planned? he doesn't think expensive gifts will placate you, especially when he wakes up to missed calls and text messages that quickly go from confused to annoyed. he's in the middle of typing an excuse when you call one more time, and he answers with a sheepish laugh of your name. "um, I can be on the way in like 10, 15 minutes? it doesn't take me long to get ready." he's already rolling out of bed and pulling clothes out of the closet, but you sigh into the phone and that stops him in his tracks. "we've already missed the train," you say, and with a start, he realizes just how late he is. "even if you somehow make it here within the hour and we catch the next one, the lines will probably be too long. wouldn't be worth it." oh, this sucks. he's the one who got you all excited about a first-come, first-serve festival a few hours away, and he didn't deliver. "let's get breakfast and come up with a new plan then. we can't go there, but we have all day to do whatever you want."

SOONYOUNG: his ambition, an attractive trait on its own, comes with the tendency to over-estimate his capabilities. for example: when he got drunk during lee youngji's show and immediately headed to practice after. at the time, you watched the video of his tipsy dancing with an amused smile. his work ethic was admirable...and kind of funny in a way. now? you don't think it's very funny at all. you tap your foot as you stare at your text thread, where two hours ago he said that work was wrapping up and that he had time to freshen up before coming to your date. well, he's late. right when you were about to text him for an update, he calls you. "hey!" there's a muffled crash and a mumbled swear before his voice is back. "I'm so, so sorry. the shoot ended, but they asked for a short interview and I thought we had time. and we did! but I think I fell asleep and forgot to set an alarm and—" he huffs, zipping something up. "I can make it there in twenty minutes!" you check the time, frowning. "with traffic, it's probably closer to half an hour. why don't we re-schedule, soonyoung? I'll just go home." "no, but you cleared your schedule for today! why don't we meet up somewhere halfway, hm? I want to see you at least."

WONWOO: he's a runner (he's a track star), and he uses those long legs to book it down the street, trying his best to ignore the judgmental glances of passing strangers. faintly, he can make out your figure in front of the restaurant, your phone in hand as you scroll. when he skids to a stop in front of you, you don't look impressed, but that's better than looking angry, he supposes. he doubles over with his hands on his knees, taking gasping breaths and spitting out excuses for his lateness. the only thing you say in return is, "they gave up our dinner reservation," which makes his heart sink because you made the reservation months ago. with how popular it is, he had to bring out the celebrity card, and even then, he barely got on the list. "do you want to try the place across the street?" he offers his hand and a weak smile that you only glance at. "and spend the entire time knowing that we could've been over here instead? no, thanks." you show him your screen. "let's go here." it's closer to the apartment, thus in the direction he just came from, but he'd take driving back over you giving him the cold shoulder all night.

JIHOON: "you stood me up," you say when he finally picks up the phone. and then you laugh and tell him that it's not a big deal—it's just a maplestory date, after all—but he hears the disappointment in your voice and he knows that it was more than simply meeting up in a silly video game. it was about making time for each other for the first time in forever, about being on call for as long as you can, about laughing as you watch him fall off the platform for the nth time in a row. it was about the fact that he made a promise and broke it for such a stupid reason. he looks at the time. "when are you planning to sleep?" he asks, already opening the game launcher and sliding on his headphones. "I don't have anything tomorrow. why?" he hums. "let's go farm those rare items you wanted." it must've been the right thing to say because you gasp, "really? it's going to be such a waste of time, though...are you sure?" of course he's sure. being with you, regardless of what you're doing, is rarely a waste of time. plus you were venting the other day about how no one wanted to help you farm. "load up. I'm waiting."

[snowmist-hashira]

Hiii, your Muichiro oneshots are just so sweet! I enjoy every single one of them! Can you do a scenario where like Muichiro is really sensitive to reader playing with his hair and like massaging his scalp, and feels super pleasant and gets him all droopy eyed? So, he can hardly protest cause it like switches off his brain and he can't even conceal his small noises of contentment, and he can hardly even string coherent sentences after a while. And then he's out like a light.

Sometimes it ends up just being a cat nap, other times he's out for hours. Reader finds it adorable and likes to just knock him out at random times of the day, and when he wakes up he's all disoriented but when he regains his bearings all he can do is just pout at the reader, cause for as much as it's embarrassing, the naps are very peaceful.

Thank you so much, and remember to take care of yourself! Have a wonderful day/night!! <33

[Chapter title: Tranquil Serenade]

[Requested] Muichiro Tokitou x Reader

Wattpad:(One shots) Tokito Twins x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Twins x Reader Details: ♠ Information ♠ Master list: ♠ Muichirou Tokitou ♠ Word count: 1,119

Artist: 砂糖🐾原稿🔥[na_sanSS63] [砂糖]

Links; Twitter & Pixiv

I'm happy to know that you love each and every one of my Mui one-shots~ This mist had me captivated from the moment he was introduced- HAHA. Take care of yourself too, and have a fantastic day/night as well! I wanted to let you all know that I will not be as active as before, and I apologize for that. My semester is starting soon, so I'll be following my original schedule of posting requests at least once per week. There might also be occasional uploads of original ideas, so feel free to check out my pinned post to stay updated on any upcoming content. Thank you for your understanding, wishing you all a wonderful day/night! (Scheduled)

Y/n found Muichiro gazing at the sky, seemingly lost in his thoughts. She approached him quietly, sitting down beside him without making her presence known. Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/n playfully poked his cheeks, bringing him back to reality. Muichiro's eyes widened, a hint of surprise in those minty orbs as he turned to look at Y/n.

"Mui, what are you doing?" Y/n inquired, tilting her head curiously as she gazed into his minty eyes.

"Y/n," Muichiro's gaze met hers, and his expression softened, displaying a sense of calm and familiarity in Y/n's presence. "I was just looking at the sky," he said softly, his voice carrying a gentle and serene tone.

"Cloud gazing again?" Y/n's soft chuckle drew a slight smile from him, and he nodded in response to her playful comment, returning his gaze to the drifting clouds, finding comfort in the simple act of it.

Y/n inched closer to him, she reached out to him, her fingers gently running through his unique, silky black to mint-hued hair, which she had always found intriguing. She loved the feeling of those strands slipping between her fingers, and often, she enjoyed running her fingers through them, untangling any knots with tender care.

Muichiro didn't flinch or pull away; instead, he seemed at ease with Y/n's gentle touch. He appreciated the gesture and her act of combing his hair felt soothing, like a subtle connection that transcended words.

Y/n continued to comb through Muichiro's hair, her touch became even more tender, and she started to massage his scalp gently. The sensation was incredibly soothing, causing Muichiro to lean back slightly, savoring the comforting feeling that washed over him. His eyes fluttered, feeling the pleasant effects of Y/n's touch.

With each stroke of her fingers through his hair, Muichiro's eyelids began to droop, a sense of relaxation enveloping him. The outside world seemed to fade away, leaving him completely immersed in the tranquil moment. His breaths became slower and more even, the tension in his muscles dissipating under her soothing ministrations.

Y/n couldn't help but softly chuckle as she noticed Muichiro's vulnerability and how her gentle touch seemed to affect him deeply. It was a recent discovery for her, realizing that there was a sensitive and soft spot in him, quite literally.

She found it endearing that such a simple act of massaging his scalp could seemingly ‘switch off his brain,’ bringing him to a state of blissful tranquility. He couldn’t even hide the soft noises of contentment escaping his lips, akin to a cat's purring, Muichiro's lashes continued to flutter, he found himself on the verge of dozing off, the serenity of the moment lulling him into a peaceful drowsiness.

Eventually, he would reach a point where forming coherent sentences became nearly impossible, his responses would responses become slower and more scattered, his words occasionally interrupted by soft sighs of contentment. The moments ticked by; it was evident that he was slipping further into a state of drowsiness.

Muichiro's eyelids grew heavier and his body relaxed, he finally succumbed to the peaceful embrace of sleep. His head gently leaned back against Y/n's chest, finding comfort and warmth in her presence.

With a soft smile, Y/n adjusted their positions for maximum comfort, pulling him closer into a warm embrace. She cradled him gently, one hand supported his body, keeping it in a comfortable position, while the other continued its soothing motion, caressing his head with tender care.

Y/n observed Muichiro's peaceful features, and couldn't help but softly laugh as she had become familiar with his napping habits, and this time, she could tell that he was in for a long nap. While he often took short naps lasting just several minutes, there were times like these when he seemed to sink into a deeper slumber, embracing the much-needed rest.

Sometimes, when the opportunity arose and they had a bit of downtime, Y/n enjoyed playfully ‘knocking him out’ for a short nap. It became a fun and affectionate routine for her.

After a couple of hours, Muichiro stirred from his long nap, he seemed disoriented for a moment, his eyes half-lidded in a daze. This post-nap state of cluelessness was a familiar sight to Y/n, and she couldn't help but savor the adorable moment.

Y/n watched as he slowly blinked, trying to process his surroundings. The fact that he had been leaning over her chest and was almost laying down on the floor seemed to momentarily escape him. In these moments, he appeared vulnerable and a bit disoriented, a side of him that Y/n found utterly endearing. She gave him a moment to fully wake up and gather his bearings, relishing in the soft and dazed expression he wore.

Once he regained his bearings and fully processed the fact that he had dozed off in such a vulnerable position, all he could do was pout at Y/n. He felt a tinge of embarrassment, knowing that he had been caught in one of his peaceful naps again.

Which caused Y/n to chuckle even more, she found his reaction utterly adorable, she reached out and playfully poked his cheek, teasing him gently.

"You slept again, Mui~" she said, her tone light and teasing.

With a faint blush on his cheeks, he looked at Y/n with a mixture of bashfulness and affection. It was endearing how he could let his guard down around her, even in moments like these when he felt a bit vulnerable.

Muichiro's pout deepened, but he couldn't hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's... peaceful," he admitted, his voice soft and filled with sincerity. "I can't help it sometimes."

Y/n smiled affectionately, nodding in response. "That’s true.” She then pulled Muichiro closer to her chest, wrapping him in a warm embrace. He could feel the gentle thump of her heart against his back.

The sound of her heart pounding created a soothing rhythm, almost like a lullaby that added to the sense of comfort surrounding them.

Y/n resumed massaging his scalp, Muichiro's resolve to stay awake wavered. He felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine, and he couldn't help but close one of his minty orbs, seemingly trying to resist the relaxing sensation.

"Y/n," he softly protested, his voice tinged with a mix of resistance and amusement. "You know I'll fall asleep again if you keep doing that."

Y/n playfully said, "well, maybe that's not such a bad thing," she added. "You look so peaceful when you sleep, Mui." Her words had a calming effect on him, and Muichiro felt himself letting go of any remaining resistance

"Alright," he finally relented, a small smile gracing his lips. "Just for a little while then."

[woneuntonzz]

˗ˏˋ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐬𝐚𝐱𝐲 ★ ˎˊ˗

— ot7!riize as my fav songs

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ just a lil something before i post anything over a thousand words again :>

warnings: cussing <33

( more under the cut .ᐟ )

shotaro

now playing 🎧 K. (by Cigarettes After Sex)

OK HEAR ME OUT. so um, taro is adorable and sweet and all. but yk he's quite literally the sugar, spice and everything nice +chemical x combo, because man, as innocent as that smile is, he'd be down down for you ykwim. just imagine you were one of his close dancer friends before he debuted as an idol, but you weren't just any friend, you two had something that would blossom from sneaking out after dance lessons and doing (whatever your imaginations leads you to) but just to be clear, i think it would go like this...

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ —your bed seems to have expanded as the count for the days you've missed him grew. your worries were alleviated when you found out that he was making a name for himself out there, he deserved it. he worked hard, he's talented, and a brilliant performer. you could only wish you could reach for his hand through the crowd of paparazzi in the airport. he was back home, but not quite. he'd only feel home, when he was with you. the true warmth that reprieved him of his sorrows —he knew it was only you who could grant him that.  it was an unexpected call, “I miss you.” —you were certain you missed him more, that you felt more from his touch, and the rhythm of his kiss. he could never say it, I love you, I really do, but he acted on it. the hints of devotion that disseminated from his touch, it was stronger than ever.  🎶 i remember when i first noticed that you liked me back… come right back, i've been waiting for you to slip back in bed, when you light the candle. (/ly)

eunseok

now playing 🎧 Love Me Like You Do (by Ellie Goulding)

overlooking the sexual context of the song (please), i feel like loving him would feel like this song. he'd be your lover, but he's also a busy man, so you don't really spend time at him as often as you'd hope. because of that, everytime you would have a chance to be with him, your feels are a lot more intensified. and so at the end of it all, you'd end up yearning more and more everytime, and the time he'd spare you would dwindle over time as his schedule would be become more packed throughout his career.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ —a tiny wet pool formed on the ground above your feet. it could've been —no, it should've been the rain, but it was your pained tears, tears that carried the essence of your agony. you trusted him, you knew him to the very bottom of the pit of his soul, but the misplaced time that drifted along with the breeze of the storm clouded your mind and heart with dubiety. how could he still love you? after all this time… opening the door to your apartment, tiny droplets of water traced the trail of your figure as you made your way to your lifeless living space. you melted from where you stood, feeling what you thought was only a phantom of your memories, but you felt a burn that singed your skin, his kiss. “i told you to take care of yourself.” soft with a slight crack, he held your head close to the beat of his heart. he saw the crimson in your eyes and the tears imprinted on your cheeks. “i'm here now. i'll always be —never leaving you.” 🎶 you're the cure, you're the pain. so love me like you do. (/ly)

sungchan

now playing 🎧 The Less I Know The Better (by Tame Impala)

something about him just screams 'we're in a love triangle, but no, i'll never choose you, but maybe i'll keep you around just in case' —of course, purely fictional, but tell me you don't look at this man and not think, ahh, yes, i will be your backburner. no? just me? ok jsjdjdjsksj

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ —the luminance of the fairy lights shone against the moonlight, the smiles of couples, families and their children, and your friends filled your consciousness. this is true happiness —you tell yourself as you took a sip off of your crisp and cold soda. you looked up at the moon. the sky was almost empty if it weren't for this celestial body that continued to beam its light down on you despite the carnival's already glimmering ambience. the moon looked lonely, you averted your gaze from it, and there you saw him again. the image of his hand holding another more delicate than yours, one he truly loved, one he chose instead of you —now had a mural in the walls of your heart. who were you for him to choose anyway? no matter how much you wanted to rid of this wall, this stupid, beautiful mural of their love, no matter how much you wished it was you —if only he hadn't showed up. you were one with the celestial body of that painful night sky, lonely, in denial. 🎶 i was doing fine without you, till i saw your face, now i can't erase. (/ly)

wonbin

now playing 🎧 Girl (by Men I Trust)

this song is one that i could confidently say, on par with wonbin's beauty. i'm pretty sure every briize seeing wonbin for the first time was like “no fucking way he's real.” right???? he seems so perfect, but never forget, you are of the same embodiment of life the heavens have set you out to be, just like every man who breathes this earth. you have your own unique desires, feelings, concealed and unsaid aspirations that might not be able to foresee now, but you were determined to reach.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ —what does it mean to be free? wonbin would never know, not until he was confined in the taste of the heavens of your sanctuary, your breath that's his only source of warmth —of life. the life he yearned for, it was not only to be with you, but rather, it is you. he called, “Girl, girl, girl…” —your visage is the only image in his mind, and your name carved into his psyche, your beautiful name he felt he wasn't worthy of uttering, you were the seraphim that will grant him liberty. “who am i bin?” his eyes glistened as liquid love filled them, a single drop fell, another threatening to pour over the skin of your palm as he planted a kiss, “my girl.” my freedom —the warmth of his breath surged all over your body. “say my name.” you were always so nice to him, the voice of an angel. finally, he could say, “my y/n.” his peace and freedom that he yearned for all his life, was all his. 🎶 tell me stories 'bout a better place to be, let yourself free. cette liberté dont tu m'as tant, chanté ce jour-là (this freedom  you have given me so much, sung that day.) (/ly)

this is kinda creep tho wth

seunghan

now playing 🎧 Everytime (by Ariana Grande)

OK SHUT UP EVERYONE. everytime (not pun intended) i read something about seunghan, they always play him off as someone who's a bit more loose (??) when it comes to his love life, someone who fools around A LOT, but when he finds the one, best believe his loyalty will persist (as long as the trust is there!!). BUT i feel like before you get to that point of settling down and shit you'd be down for a rollercoaster ride, not one you'd enjoy though lol. love with him is just so fanstastical, painful and blissful at the same time.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ —you were raised by your parents to be independent, while also keeping yourself reliable for those around you. you were quite the people pleaser, but it would only be because of him. you were never one to care if gossip flew in paper planes about how 'atrocious' you are, but he had you, he held you in his grasp, locked you in place. sometimes it was out of sheer affection, and other times, it felt like heavy metal chains. it would bleed when he let you go, a scar to your soul, but when he came back, a single touch was all it took to relieve the pain. he made you feel like his everything like he is to you, so you made sure he felt nothing but your adoration and reverence. he looked at your teary image, like a mirror. “you're so beautiful, all mine. just mine.” he wiped your tears with a swipe of his compassion. “don't cry princess.” you hated that you kept coming back, just to hear the same shit all over again —but it always felt like the first time, ending with you getting drunk off his touch. 🎶 i've tried to fight our energy, but everytime i think i'm free. why does God keep bringing me back to you? (/ly)

sohee

now playing 🎧 Melting (by Kali Uchis)

i feel like this is self-explanatory??? HIS SMILE is everything :(((( if ever he stops smiling i would actually punch a hole through whoever hurt him. love with him, can look superficial to others, but it's the realest it can be. it's something you'd never want to lose, something you'd want to bring with you to the afterlife, a beautiful scar, one not of pain, but of the fondness that scorched through your hearts.

i am melting rn help

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ —one, two, three, four, four steps towards the flushed boy till you were able to get close enough to his ear, “I like you.” it took him all his courage —and strength— to hold you close to him, to face him again without hurting you. he might've pulled you a little closer than he had intended, he smiled at you, the smile that is the catalyst for your sweet little daydreams —scenarios you made up in your head rewinding as he got closer, and closer. “I like you more.” his breath against your lips was such an overwhelming sensation, it drove you to close the distance that's been begging to be broken. lips like clouds, soft and surreal. “let's stay here for a while, yeah?” you giggled into his jacket, now having an essence of your saccharine scent. “i don't think i'd ever want to leave.” he pinched your cheek, and you would pinch his too. now you could finally admire him closer, to feel him and his whole.  🎶 i know you're nearby and i know your purpose. take one look at you, you're heaven's incarnate. melting, you're a daydream, stay a while. (/ly)

anton

now playing 🎧 Finally Alone (by Mac DeMarco)

i have an array of comfort songs, and when i think of anton, my mind wanders to this particular song. i just feel like you could heavily associate the words alone, time, and peace with this man. He's like a narrow field of greens —not too narrow though, just right. just enough to please your eyes and ease your mind, and his voice? like a rivers song, or the sound of stone bouncing off and skipping on the surface of the water.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ —“you're living the life.” —if he got a brick everytime he heard those words, he could've built the empire state building. he had no way of expressing his exasperations, apart from slyly smiling and shaking his head towards the people he wished he could just run away from. he wanted to run away, from this so called 'life' that everyone around him seems to be so obsessed about. he was lucky he met you, at the perfect time, in the perfect place. “you're living the li—” “a lie.” he wished he was as brave as you, to unleash the burden of this life.  you both longed for a getaway, so even if just for a short while, you could feel for the true nature of your surroundings, locked away from the life you both started to despise. being in each other's presence was the closest you'll ever get to seclusion, isolated in your own world of wonders, somewhere green and blue and phthalo and indigo at night. you could see it in his eyes, the reflection of the sky and the birds in flocks, and he could feel it in your touch, the haven of flowers waving at him. the feeling, it freed you of your restraints, every night. 🎶 sick of the city locked in with all the pretty people. you need a vacation, somewhere that no one ever would dream to go. honey, you're finally alone. (/ly)

my asks is open y'all 😁

[dailygtwscar]

[248 - ARTIST SUPPORT 🧡]

It's Disability Pride Month!

If you're a disabled artist of any kind, please promote yourselves in my submissions!! I'll queue up everything till the end of the month. (I don't know how artists supports work here or if they're even a thing at all but !!!!!!!!!)

(rules are: no nsfw, no AI-generated images, no NFTs, tag your tweet with the proper warnings)

Also, here's some stuff I'd like to get off my chest (long text post ahead).

First of all, I wanna i want to mention something about how I draw Scar. I know I haven't been the best at drawing him with mobility aids. I'm still trying to get better at it. Scar himself has seen some of my posts & has never really said anything about how I draw him, but I personally don't think that's a valid excuse for me to only occasionally draw him with mobility aids. I apologize, and I will try my best to draw him with mobility aids more often now.

Another thing I wanna talk about is the reason I couldn't make a disability pride post earlier than I intended (which is honestly just me venting but it'll give a bit of context on my sporadic posting schedule). I was really anxious about it because of the internalized ableism / impostor syndrome I've been dealing with for the past year or so. I have an anxiety disorder and I am also neurodivergent. Somehow, it didn't feel right calling myself disabled even though it has made it almost impossible for me to get through highschool, have dropped out of college because of how severe my anxiety got, how rsd has kicked my butt since I was little, how it's so hard for me to read social cues and make friends, how my terrible memory has caused me forget the most simple & important things (and it has gotten me in trouble so many times), how most of the people in my life were ableist towards me, etc, and just overall how made it difficult for me to be a "normal" human in society. All because I've convinced myself that "it's not that bad" (spoiler alert, it is).

Even now, I still feel iffy calling myself disabled despite being diagnosed for nearly three years now. I felt like I didn't have the right to talk about anything related to disability because mine isn't physical. At the end of the day, I'm still disabled. I know it's not a bad thing. It's just very difficult. So please be patient with me, with both art and me in general. I'm really trying my hardest here.

[seekers-who-are-lovers]

Yana Toboso posted again her thoughts on Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji adaptation in different media. A couple of weeks ago she and her editor released their opinions concerning this topic. Could it be some people’s point of views on the different tone of Kuroshitsuji’s last episodes of season 1 and season 2?

When Black Butler is adapted in other media, it often has a different development or setting than the original work. However, all of this was agreed upon under the contract and was left to us. That being said, when it comes to the original manga, I discuss it with the editor in charge until I'm satisfied with it, and draw it as I like, so I think of ``my work as the original manga.''

Honestly, there's only me, so no matter how hard I try, I can't help you. (I wonder who or what this referred to?) In that case, I thought it would be better to let the creators do whatever they wanted. If requested, supervision or new settings will be accepted depending on the schedule and remuneration. Sometimes I don't get asked for anything at all, and sometimes I get a lot of confirmations.

For works other than Black Butler, I am often not the copyright holder, so I often don't know what kind of media they will be used for. Even in such cases, I say, ``If I'm asked, I'll do my best, but if I'm not asked, I'll leave it to you.''

There are also times when I am unable to accept requests due to my schedule. It can't be helped if my schedule and the other party's milestones don't match. I think there are many writers who choose to leave it to themselves for that reason, whether they love it or not.

There are many people who supervise for free or work for more than they are paid, saying, ``It's for a work that's as important to me as my own child.'' However, the most important thing is your own mental and physical health, and each person's capacity is different, so I want you to stop thinking, ``Teacher A is doing it, but Teacher B isn't. It's because they don't love [their work].'' I think.

Once upon a time, at a thank-you party, a new writer said to me, ``I don't want to do it either, since Toboso-sensei isn't taking a break,'' and he immediately said, ``You should definitely take a break and not push yourself too hard.I'm lucky.'' I once said, ``Because it's just that.'' It's good to work hard with someone else as your goal, but if you compare yourself to someone else, nothing good will come of it.

( x x x x x x )

[hiswhiteknight]

Unbelievably Outlandish - Part 12

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: It has been a super long time since I've posted, like a year or more. I'm going to try to post weekly, but it depends on my schedule. As for a tag list, I'll be starting a new one – please send me a message to be added to the tag list. I don't always get to look through comments, so please message me.

Note Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 2700 (SO LONG)

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

It turned out, in Angus's mind, the dog turned out to be a good distraction for you. It kept you from running around because you found yourself always training the dog. She was an angelic thing, who always got into some kind of trouble along the way. Your whole life you've been much of a rule follower, but as of recently you were finding you had a lot in common with the dog.

With this being said, you have yet to find a name you'd like for her. Often you found yourself filling the boredom by naming old fictional characters you loved when you remember the character Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables. Outside from being incredibly charming, he was intelligent, kind, and had patience and devotion for the ones he loved. You imagined you had a lot in common with Anne Shirley or you hope you did. And with that thought, you named the dog Blythe.

Jamie enjoyed watching you work with the mischievous creature. He could tell this was the first time you were filled with joy since you arrived in Scotland, "Why don't you go over and talk to the girl," Murtagh said from next to him.

He shook out of his daze, acting like he wasn't doing anything weird, "I like my bullocks, thank you."

Murtagh shook his head, "She wouldn't have that mutt if it wasn't for you, you know."

The men continue to work around and pack things away, "You and I both know she is a stubborn woman, if she wanted that dog enough she would have got it without myself or Ned mentioning a word."

"Coward," Murtagh whispered to Jamie.

"Damn right," he chuckled back.

You were working on the pups reactivity and word commands. While growing up you didn't get to have a pet, but your mother told you about when she raised dogs as a child. Your family moved around a lot, so having a pet wasn't in the cards. "Don't get too comfortable girl, we're going to be off soon," Angus barked at you from afar.

You turned around losing the smile on your face. With the time being away from the castle, you still hadn't earned much trust and you most definitely didn't give the men much energy. Outside of the pup, you were like a empty soul and it was coming to be more evident with every passing day. The dog plopped herself next to you watching Angus with her tongue out. Even Blythe was better respected and well liked by the men, even Angus though he'd deny it if anyone commented. Their acceptance of the dog made you more tolerant to their attitude and patriarchal manner. "Yes master," you bow.

"It's nice you are starting to learn your manners," he smirked back while making gestures towards the men.

With a deep inhale and low tolerance of attitude today you started to trudge towards your horse, "It was sarcasm, idiot," you grumbled.

He appeared to have the same tolerance of my attitude, "Watch your tongue girl or you'll get it cut off," Angus advanced forward while gripping his dagger.

Jamie and Murtagh were about to make a move when another man's voice appeared, "Everything alright miss," a British voice caught your attention.

Angus directed an aggressive response to the man. You turned to look at the man and in your daze started to register things about this man. He had a proper accent, boots, and his hair read a gentleman. He was clearly a British soldier and he could mean serious trouble. You turned to look at Jamie for a split second before charming a smile, "Excuse me sir," you asked, ignoring the comments from the other man to rile this man. This was not the time and place.

You could tell the tension with Dougal increased. He didn't trust what you would say, "I was asking if you were alright," he stepped forward again, ignoring the men behind you.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to hear all that, sir. You shouldn't have had to hear a lady speak out of tune like that. It was very unbecoming of me," you looked embarrassed. Let's hope your acting skills are up to par. You ignored Murtagh mutter unbecoming to make fun of you, "It's just Angus here is a very, very, very," you paused to look at him, "Very distant cousin." You turn back to smile at the officer, "I sometimes gets so overwhelmed by his voice and tone I just lash out. I apologize," you put you hand on your heart. The dog looked up at you oddly, not recognizing your behaviors.

He smiled at you, not acknowledging the grumbling Scots behind you, "Not necessary, my lady I understand quite well actually." He bent down to scratch the puppy sitting in front of you, "I'm sorry your accent."

You scratch the back of you neck, "Right, I must sound so improper. I'm Y/N O'Mulligian. I came to visit some family here from the colonies at my brother's request. He said I could use some real life hard work. He likes to call me a debutante," you sent him a teasing smile.

Responding well to your story, he rises and smiles at you. A relief was lifted off your shoulders, you were almost past this moment when Dougal interrupted, "Enough," he shouted, "She is the guest of the clan MacKenzie and her business is none of yours." You clearly spoke too soon because the officers defenses shot back up.

"So off you go," Angus finished.

You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "Are you sure you are alright, miss," he looked unshaking at you. He clearly felt so much privilege he did not care remotely about the strapping Scottish men standing around him. You wanted to smack yourself in the forehead how stupid these men had to be to not recognize the importance of this one man.

Dougal looked as if he was going to fight the man. You put your arm on his bicep to stop him, "Of course, good sir," you smile, "It's nice to know chivalry is not dead. I have more hard work to learn as you can see, it was very nice meeting you."

"Pleasure is all mine," he smiled back before frowning around the man watching this moment. He backed away into the blacksmith area to continue his work.

A minute passed by and you felt a firm grip on your arm drag you towards your horse, "It's best you didn't speak," Dougal scolded in your ear.

Anger surged through your body and it took every fiber of your being to say nothing. But as you were shoved onto your horse, you looked in the direction of the soldier and back at Jamie. You knew if you yelled it'd bring attention to Jamie, a fugitive to the English Army.

You continue to seethe on the ride. Blythe sat up, doing her best to see over the horses head to look ahead. "What's the dog's name," Jamie trotted next to you.

"Blythe," you muttered directly.

"What a cute English name," he emphasized on one word of his sentence.

You pulled back on your horse and halted, "Excuse me?"

He chose to stop with you, trying to not say directly what he'd like to say. It's been odd between you and Jamie. You weren't sure if you were pushing him away out of anger or fear, but none the less at this moment it appeared to be anger, "Nothing, it's a cute name."

A sarcastic laugh left your mouth, "No, no, you had a tone," the man halt to watch another scene unfold, "You clearly have something you want to add, some hidden message you feel you want to hide. Say it."

"Nothing, you seem to just like the English a bit more than an Irish Woman from the colonies I thought would," he said like his words meant nothing. It didn't matter the fact that maybe he felt jealous or he had a right to comment on any intention or likes you have. That comment engulfed your whole body into volcano, hell fire fiery.

Heat was written all over your face and Murtagh didn't have enough time cool down your fire with rationality, "The boy is just saying, you were awfully chummy with the Brit," Angus chimed in, "like a girl in heat."

And there goes Mt. St. Helen, "Un-Fucking believable, do you know how fucking dumb you are, like every single on of you are just egg head fucking dumb," you scream enough to make the echo quake the woods around you.

"Lass," Ned sent a warning your way.

Tears started to brim your eyes and Jamie knew he'd set you up to fail again. You point to Ned, clearly a man of reason, "That man back there," you continued to yell, "Was an English Officer out patrolling." You looked to Jamie and everything deflated in you. Everything from the past and the reality of your new world just collapsed in your soul, "I was trying to save you."

A sigh leaves your lips and you talk lightly while using your hands to emphasize your point, "Men are idiots and will always fall for charm, so I used mine to protect you all," you continued to go on, "Call me a hussy, I don't care. And that plan to charm the officer actually worked until you opened your trap, my lord," you bowed your head at Dougal. Something than broke in you, in that moment, you were exhausted at being angry. You had no more fight in you. You gave Jamie another look, "I was scared. I was trying to save you," you whisper.

Taking a deep breath, you dismounted from you horse, "Now where are you going," Angus shouted at you.

The anger stirred up again, spinning around to look at him, "To relieve myself, thank you," you speak loudly while stomping into the woods.

You knew what Dougal did to Jamie in the pubs and you weren't sure why. It wasn't much of your business, but you could see it chipping into Jamie. You were stuck again in your thoughts, give into this new world and let these people in or continue to bury who you knew you were inside a dark cave and never leave.

The ride to the next village was quiet, especially after finding Scottish men hung out on display. You wanted to vomit at the lack of humanity in the cruel act. If this was the normal the British did to Scots, I'm not all shocked of their lack of kindness and trust towards me. I'm sure I wasn't helping the matter either.

When you got to the pub, you chose to join in with the drinking. The owner made a bee line as Blythe trotted behind you and laid at your feet, "Lass, we do not let do-," he stopped mid sentence from the look you were giving him. You were sitting up straight, dead face.

"You were saying, sir," you answered curtly.

"What can I get for you miss," he finished instead.

"A pint of whatever, I am not picky," you said, resting your feet on the chair in front of you.

The men went a distance away from you, you imagine to process the thing they just witnessed. A man approached you with a smile on your face and you shake your head putting your other foot on a chair and shoving it away from your table. He quickly turn around, "You'd make more friends if you weren't so prickly."

Murtagh patted at the dog, "My expression and acts are nothing but kind, sir." He shook his head, "Plus, I don't need any more friends when I only need you."

He chuckles, looking at Jamie, "It was a kind thing you did with the soldier. I'll be the only one to admit, that was a good eye you have."

"Don't think much of it, it was also self preservation because I'm not a exactly the kind British soldiers have a keen sense to protect," the man brought you your pint and you started to drink while you viewed in your surroundings.

He pointed at you, "You like everyone to think you're this cold hearted she witch."

"Maybe I am those things," you said like it didn't bother me to have that reputation.

Murtagh shook his head, "You are quite the opposite lass and the only person you are hurting are you." You roll your eyes sighing as he looks at your with a smirk, "And maybe a red headed boy who I suspect would do anything to see you smile once again." You sit up straighter as Murtagh stands while looking at you, while gesturing to Jamie. He lifts his eyebrows speaking you the truth, "Don't think I only talk to you because your good company. I get sick of seeing the boy mope around with his worry for you. A single smile from you can set his day."

You glare at him as your cheeks warm red, "Mind your business."

When he walks away, you sit and continue to process your reality and options. Every now and again you catch a glance at Jamie. You could see his expression and the change in him over the last few weeks. You stand walking your glass over to the bar with Blythe walking behind you. You could tell Dougal was about to start his speech. He wouldn't need Jamie today if you guessed right. Those hanging men were part of this community they didn't need to see Jamie's scars. You leaned against a pillar near Jamie, "You alright," you asked him catching eyes with Murtagh.

You shake off his knowing look. Jamie stood up straight looking at you bewildered from the sudden change in your demeanor, "Are you talking to me?"

"Don't make it a thing, just answer the question," you whisper.

"Aye, I'm fine," he whispers back, glancing at you for a second too long into silence. He clears his thoughts, "If you don't mind me asking, what changed your mind with speaking to me?"

You smirk, "Murtagh paid me."

He shook his head, "Sure," he was trying to hold back a smile. Something appeared to pop up in his head, "Look Deoiridh, I'm sorry about."

"No," you stopped him, "Jamie, I'm stubborn and I don't know what I'm doing. I'm not from a place like this, so."

You noticed a change in his eyes when you said his name instead of Mr. MacTavish. This is where he stopped you, "I only want to help."

"Does that mean you agree I'm stubborn because Murtagh implied I was prickly earlier and that's why I don't make friends," you say while trying to hold back a grin.

He shook his head making his red hair shake with it, “You see comments like that are a trap and I will not be stepping on that one.”

“Smart man,” you say to him.

“And now a compliment, I might think you are wanting to be my friend again,” he whispered back with a smirk.

You see Dougal getting ready to do your speech, “I should be getting out of here and up to my room. I shouldn’t be down here when,” you stopped to look at Dougal, “Well good night.”

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered back.

“And Jamie, just for transparency sake, the jury is still out if we are friends,” he paused appearing to hold his breath. You offer a small smile, “I need you to walk over to Murtagh and tell him I was nice then I'll consider being your friend. You know for the sake of proving Murtagh wrong. It's the price you have to pay for my friendship.” And before he can respond, you and Blythe make your way upstairs.

[scarlettsandmaroons]

she doesn't think of me | n. romanoff

about me | series masterlist | natasha romanoff masterlist

pairing: professor!natasha romanoff x collegestudent!reader

chapter two | chapter three: midnights like this

chapter summary: your professor is targeting you and neither you or your bestfriend are having it. she however, doesn't seem to care about you at all.

warnings: natasha is mean.

a/n: this was rushed, i'm sorry! should've posted this last night, but i was so busy i just decided to squeeze writing this chapter into my schedule. it's really short too, rest assured, the next one will be better!

you were on natasha romanoff's radar. and you want so badly to get out of it.

"oh i'm sure she'll soften up! mrs. romanoff is nice!" billy insisted, but you carried on basically dragging yourself into yet another dreadful hour with mrs. romanoff.

"it's been three months, billy! i don't know what to do," you threw your arms up and then caressed your face with your hands, wanting so deeply to cry into it.

the two months being mrs. romanoff's favorite student hasn't exactly been the easiest. after handing off a couple of late assignments, which you had stacks and stacks of from her, you were surprised she hadn't pulled some strings to suspend you.

she would very often tear your paper in front of you. she would call you into her office just so you can watch her tear the last 15 hours you spent in pieces before throwing it away. she never lets you off of class without calling you at least 3 times. never leaving out some commentary after you answer that would make you embarrassed to the core. she pointed out your shortcomings in class. she made sure to always always let everyone know what and when you're doing wrong. and after all that humiliation, what aggravates you is how she doesn't, at all, acknowledges your existence outside of class. you would pass her by the halls, you would see her near the gate, never once would she make eye contact, or even look in your direction. she wouldn't even do so much as breath in your direction!

to her, it's nothing.

"do you want me to talk to her?" billy asked. she's been the subject of almost all your conversations with billy. and he has so patiently listen to your every rant about her.

"how would you even," you were hopeless. you would leave, but you're already too far into it. she had humiliated you way too much to back out now. you didn't go through months of torture just to leave. to her, you're not even relevant. you're just another student who couldn't withstand her. leaving would hurt your pride more.

so you straightened your back, and marched like someone truly eager to learn. "i'm sick of her nonsense. i'll show her what i'm made of."

you certainly didn't show her what you were made of when as soon as your name rolled off her tongue with strength and almost anger, you folded. you curved. you balled. whatever one might call it. you caved. you gave in. all sense of even an ounce of bravery was washed away by trembling fear. intimidation. you'd come to learn of that feeling the very first time you met her, it still surprises you how you've yet to get accustomed to it.

you stood up, slowly. here it comes. you know it’s coming. you have a visual bulleted list of everything you could’ve possibly done, everything you have done that she has yet to shame you for. just yesterday, you bumped into her in the hall. literally, bump into her. the moment you felt the impact of her shoulder against yours, you made sure to avoid her eyes at all cost. you walked away like your life depended on it. you weren’t going to be subjected under one of her condescending gazes again which sheer sharpness of will have you begging for her forgiveness in seconds. you didn’t acknowledge her, or that it happened, not out of pride, but out of fear. she was already scary enough, and until yesterday, you hadn’t really done much to piss her off.

before that however... you've done a few. for example, in class a few days ago. you know she saw you. you hadn’t slept in so long that day, you couldn’t keep your eyes open. billy was there to offer you his car to sleep on the moment you got off mrs. romanoff’s class. he fixed the back seat; set up his air bed and everything. that was the best sleep you had in days. the only sleep you had in days. you were surprised mrs. romanoff had yet to give you shit for that though. especially, when you’ve made eye contact with her the moment you woke up.

somewhere last week, you also handed a late assignment. the very first one she hadn’t called you to watch her tear off and throw away. you also have an overdue paper you hadn’t even got the privilege of a free time to start doing. and you’re sure she hated the heels you wore two days ago from the judgmental look she shot your way after getting a glimpse of the maroon stilettos.

mrs. romanoff is like a ticking timebomb. one that could go off over something so obvious yet unforeseen you’d hate yourself for not thinking of. that’s what created your visual bulleted list of everything you had done for her to humiliate you, everything that she might embarrass you for, everything that you can choose from as to why she must hate you that very moment. it helps to have a list. to be able to predict what’s making her mad again. what about you today infuriates her? it’s like a game.

today, you’re guessing one of those three. of course you had done more. some you know, some you hadn’t realized she hates you for doing, some you don’t even realize you did.

she stood up and crossed her arms. you were so far from her; so many people in between. yet the way she stared at you made you feel like it was just the two of you. not in a good way. in fact, in the worst way. it’s like being left alone with a beast.

“you’re failing my class.”

you weren’t in high school anymore. that much was clear when she announced it to the whole class where a high school teacher would never go so far as too doing. but the line between high school and college became a blur when what were a few snickers became a full blown laughter of which mrs. romanoff only basked in. you wouldn’t be surprised be there was some kind of pride in her as the class erupted in laughter over her embarrassing you.

that was very on-brand of her. but it hurt you nonetheless. your heart dropped continuously until you can feel a dragging weight on your chest. to even make it out of the classroom was such a challenge as you could barely carry the weight that pulled at your heart. you held in your tears as you walked down the hall. you needed billy. it was an hour before lunch, billy’s in mr. barton’s class but you texted him nonetheless.

‘sos’, you sent him.

it was barely ten minutes later. by then, you were already sitting on a bench just outside of your campus building when he came running to see you forcing everything in until he was able to sit beside you and pull you to him. “i got you, y/n.” he says as he held your head against the crook of his neck where you just exploded in tears. you cried heavily against his shoulder; the three month worth of pent up frustration over your studies finally breaking free from your system. “let it all out.” he whispers while a hand rubs over your back and the other plays with your hair.

muffled words escape from your lips; complete incoherent. billy pulls you off of him, holding your shoulders and taking a good look at your face; red nose, eyes, and lips, all puffy and plump from crying, snot on your nose, tear stained cheeks, and wet eyes. he hadn’t seen you cry like this since you failed math in junior high.

“okay, now tell me. what’s wrong?”

you sniffled hard before running the back of your hand against your nose. you were looking past his shoulder as tears continue to pour from your eyes. “i failed english…” you cried.

“what?! but you’re an english lit girlie!” he says. “remember? and i’m a math wizard. how can you possibly fail english?!”

that made you cry much harder, pushing through the arms that held your shoulders so you can return to your place with your head against the crook of his neck. crying all the much more. “mrs. romanoff failed me…” you cried, lifting your head slightly so your words doesn’t come muffled. “but she tore off my homework! she refused to accept anything i submit her—"

“okay, that’s it.” billy stood up rather abruptly, holding you by the hand and marching off back to the campus.

you sniffled, trying to clear your sinuses. “what are you doing…?” you ask. he was holding so tightly on your hand, you could barely feel it as he drags you through the hallways and straight into mrs. romanoff’s office.

you weren’t able to stop him—you didn’t even know what he was going to do! and by the time everything was finished processing in your mind, billy had already started yelling at your professor who only watches intently from behind her desk. “how could you fail my friend!” he yells at her.

you were taken aback. you didn’t know what to do. you’re already in here, he already yelled at her, knowing mrs. romanoff, you both would suffer the same consequences as if you would have stopped him.

“goodmorning to you too, mr. maximoff.”

her chin was resting on the back of her hand. she was looking at him so intently, as if she was interested in everything he has to say—as if she’ll hear him out. you were getting the strongest sense of déjà vu. you’ve been here before. you knew how this was going to end. you knew how much this would amuse her. you knew because this happened to you.

“y/n doesn’t deserve that.”

you can hear it in billy’s voice. he was infuriated. he hated her perhaps maybe more than you did. it’s always been this way—the two of you. he’s always been the man who protected you; who shielded you; who fought for you. and you were always there holding his hand as he does so, ready to back him up.

“how come?”

but with mrs. romanoff, against mrs. romanoff, it was different. her eyes were trained on him and him only. she did nothing to acknowledge your presence—you wouldn’t even be too surprised if she hadn’t realized you were here. but from the slightest chance that she might be watching you, from the slightest chance that your hand holding billy’s were caught from her peripheral, you slowly withdrew your hand, and took just the smallest step away from him so your skin doesn’t touch.

you know billy noticed this but he seemed to not have given it much thought. he was in here fighting for you knowing full-well he’s risking his future, and yours, in this university. you holding each other’s hand and being mistaken as a couple is not going to help your case. you deserve to be here. and you don’t deserve what you were given. and billy knows that. the last thing you want is for mrs. romanoff to further disregard your efforts, or any of the very little chance you have of winning this because she thought billy’s only doing this because you’re “his girlfriend”.

“she was the best in our grade!���

“i think you mistake this university for a small-town public school in west view,” she fixed her posture, straightening up when she pushes her chair further into the table and her hands rest on her desk.

“she doesn’t deserve this, and you know that! she worked day and night for your subject,” billy insists.

“i fear for her future if that’s the best her entire day’s work is worth for.”

you shrunk. you slowly hid behind billy though you were aware they both noticed. you wanted to cry. to scream into a pillow. she belittled you. and she did so without even acknowledging you at all, your presence to her was nothing. if you couldn’t see the way you hand was trembling, you would think you were invisible. from the way they were talking about you, to the way they were exchanging arguments as if you weren’t there. the very sole reason they’re even arguing, they almost pretend to not be here at all.

“that’s unfair. maybe you’d see how it’s worth if you’d even take the time to look at what she gives you before throwing it off.”

“why would i even give time for an output worth nothing more than what i throw in my trash can?”

“you are unfair! you give her all these work—,” billy’s voice raised to an extent you’ve never heard of, and even you were almost scared, but of course, mrs. romanoff wasn’t even fazed, if anything, she seemed to be getting bored of this whole thing.

her hooded eyelids dropped halfway, and her eyebrows tightened by the smallest bit. her patience was growing thin. and from the way her jaw clenched, you knew she was over it.

“and you are being disrespectful, mr. maximoff.” she said sternly.

“you’re biased. you humiliate her in class, you embarrass her, you pick on her. i don’t see you doing that to others. at least not to the same extent you do her. you’re wearing her off!”

by then you knew this shouldn’t go any further. he was blatantly disrespecting a professor, who as much as you hate, shouldn’t be disrespected by a student. at least, not to the extent billy was going for.

“and you, come in here accusing me; questioning me, a professor, with absolutely no regard for the inconsistencies and rather meritless of your argument.”

“i demand to see your grading sheet, because i assure you, you are making a mistake.”

mrs. romanoff abruptly stood up, placing both hands on the surface of her desk as she leaned towards it with anger painted across her features. “and i demand!... mr. maximoff,” her voice raised, and something about it, the coldness, the sharpness, the loudness, the entirety of it, almost made you cry. you were scared, your rapid heartbeat was evidence of that. “…that you leave. you have exhausted my patience. and i assure you, you will have no office of mine to barge into, or a university to attend if you further push your luck which i guarantee you is not more than what you’d have when you’re standing on very thin ice.”

“you wouldn’t…”

you put a hand on his shoulder. he was really pushing it. and mrs. romanoff wasn’t someone who you should be pushing it with. mrs. romanoff follows through. that much is evident as she consistently tore off your paper, without fail, every time you submit it.

“oh i’m sure you wouldn’t love to see me try.”

billy gave into her warning, but more so into you. you tolerated him—this, to a certain extent, especially since he was only fighting for you. but there’s a line, and with mrs. romanoff, it’s not something you should ever dare cross. billy listened to your implied warning too. he always listened to you. so with a scoff, he took your hand and prepared to leave, but as he was approaching the door, you pulled your hand from him to look at mrs. romanoff who, for the first time since you came in, finally was looking at you.

“are you going to continue being like this?” you asked. you weren’t as mean as billy was. you weren’t demanding. you were just sad. hopeless, almost.

“being what, miss y/n?”

“unreasonable.” you whispered but you know she heard you.

“if you see a reason for me not to be, then i wouldn’t.”

“don’t you think about how that might affect my future?” your voice was soft, kind.

“oh, i don’t think about you at all.”

her voice wasn’t. she was cold, almost proud; condescending.

a feeling inside you brewed. something about her eyes. how delicate they are. how enchanting. it couldn’t possibly belong to what a wretched-hearted woman she seems to be. she’s inviting, enticing. something about her pulls you in. intrigues you. now more than ever. now since ever.

you want to break mrs. romanoff. you want to see who she really is. not for revenge, not to hold it against her. simply because you’re curious. you’re aching to see mrs. romanoff—natasha. she couldn’t possibly just be that. mean.

she is not just that.

[callsignfate]

Consider this a date

Day Twenty-four of Writemas

If you want to see the scheduled posts go here If you want to see more posts like this go here TW: None? Let me know if I've missed any!

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

Kate rarely got into her neighbors' affairs in her apartment complex, that was until she saw you replace the louder and frankly annoying woman who shared the right walls of her apartment. She adored that you were a quiet homebody, and you were her type.

She loved when you would check on her when you hadn't seen each other in a few days. Often you'd carry over some baked sweets or food that, sometimes after a seemingly endless workweek, was the only thing she ate before collapsing in bed.

Kate spent almost all of her day off doing laundry and chores as she usually did before sitting down to watch mindless TV or read. That was until a knock at her door made her break her concentration on flicking between the channels.

She opened the door to see you with some food in hand and a small anxious expression that made her more confused than anything.

"Here, I made this for you... and I was wondering if I could use your shower? I have a date, and the maintenance people still haven't fixed mine," you asked as she took the small glass dish that was still warm from you.

"Yea, no problem," Kate said immediately as she moved to let you into her apartment. "A date? Are you excited? You seem... nervous," Kate asked as she moved to put the dish on the kitchen island before she turned to look back at you.

"Last time they weren't the best. I mean, she was a little pushy, and I only agreed because she asked me, and I didn't know how to say no because she was lonely," you rambled quickly before Kate shot you an almost skeptical look.

"You agreed to go back out on a date you didn't want to go on with a girl you don't like because she said she was lonely, and you can't say no," Kate said, almost reiterating it so you could hear how insane she felt it was.

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds bad, but she was kinda sorta nice... I guess," you added quickly with a small sigh. "I would feel bad flaking on her when it's a few hours away," you mumbled almost to yourself.

Kate raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on her lips. "So, you're going on a date out of sympathy? That's a new one."

You laughed nervously, scratching the back of your head. "Yeah, well, I didn't want to be rude."

Kate shook her head, still smiling. "You're too kind for your own good. But hey, if you're not feeling it, you don't owe anyone your time. Just be honest with her."

You nodded, grateful for Kate's straightforward advice. "You're right. I'll figure it out. Thanks for the food and, you know, letting me invade your shower space."

"Anytime," Kate said, gesturing toward the bathroom. "Go freshen up, and good luck on your 'sympathy' date. Hopefully, she's a better match this time."

As you headed to the bathroom, Kate couldn't help but chuckle to herself. The things you did for the sake of politeness and kindness, even if it meant enduring potentially awkward dates. She hoped you'd find someone who matched your warmth and sincerity, Kate almost wished she could convince you out of it, or even ask you herself.

As you emerged from the bathroom, looking slightly more composed and less like someone about to embark on a questionable date, Kate couldn't resist a teasing grin. "You clean up well. If she doesn't appreciate the effort, it's her loss."

You chuckled, appreciating Kate's attempt to lighten the mood. "Thanks, Kate. I owe you one for this."

"Just consider it payment for the times you've rescued me from those awkward small talks with our other neighbor," she quipped, making you laugh.

With a grateful smile, you nodded. "Deal. I'll let you know how it goes."

As you headed out, Kate couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and a slight tinge of worry for your date. She returned to her chores, occasionally glancing at the clock and wondering how your evening was unfolding.

Meanwhile, you navigated through the date with the grace of someone who had learned to be polite even in less-than-ideal situations. The restaurant was a pleasant surprise, and your date, though not entirely your cup of tea, was just as terrible as the last. She vented endlessly about her Ex that she was still struggling to get over and her endless relationship expectations. You nodded and forced a smile before you secretly texted Kate's number she had given you so she could text you to take of her plants when she was away for longer than expected, 'any way I can get you to save me from this terrible date?'

Kate's response came swiftly, and her sense of humor shone through: Consider it a rescue mission in progress. I'll call you in a few minutes pretending to be an emergency that needs your immediate attention. Be ready.

Relieved, you endured a few more minutes of your date's endless saga before your phone rang. You apologized and excused yourself, citing a work emergency. As you answered the call with a look of feigned concern, Kate's voice came through with practiced urgency.

"Hey, it's Kate from the building management. We've got an issue with the water pipes in your apartment. Could you come back urgently? We need your help to sort this out."

You feigned shock and apologized to your date, explaining the situation. Grateful for the lifeline, you excused yourself and rushed out, leaving the melodrama behind.

Once you were safely away from the restaurant, you called Kate to express your gratitude. She couldn't help but chuckle. "You owe me big time for this one. But hey, at least you're free now." "Did you maybe want to.." You asked before you felt your heart race, just as Kate was about to answer you cut her off, "Actually that was stupid you're probably busy."

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Kate's voice came through, warm and reassuring. "I was going to say, did you maybe want to grab some takeout and binge-watch terrible movies together? My treat. Consider it a post-date recovery plan."

A wave of relief washed over you, and a genuine smile spread across your face. "That sounds perfect, Kate. Thanks for being my emergency exit tonight."

"No problem. You can owe me by enduring a marathon of cheesy romantic comedies and considering this a date," Kate replied, her tone light and teasing.

The mention of a date in such a casual and teasing manner caught your attention. You chuckled, realizing that perhaps the best dates were the unplanned, easygoing ones.

"Sure thing, Kate. Consider it a date, then. I owe you for saving me from that disaster," you said, and you could almost hear the smirk in Kate's voice.

"Great! Get ready for the cheesiest, most cringe-worthy rom-coms I can find. It's payback time," Kate declared with a playful enthusiasm.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡

If you want to see the scheduled posts go here If you want to see more posts like this go here

[bomberqueen17]

ugh

I can't sleep and I'm just sort of stewing over how unprepared I am to be entirely on my own managing my own healthcare. blech.

Did I mention, Farmsister was suffering from hip pain and went to her doctor and was diagnosed with the exact same problem I have?

Diagnosed, I said. Yes! Her doctor actually investigated the cause of her pain, diagnosed her, referred her to a physical therapist, but also came up with a plan of treatment. Told her physical therapy often can't resolve this issue, so after a set amount of PT, if there wasn't enough improvement she'd refer her to an orthopedist instead.

Imagine that. My doctor was like "you've got intermittently debilitating pain? You should go see a doctor about that." and that was that. I went to a physical therapist because that's what she recommended, but I don't have a plan, I'm just spending $150/wk to work out in a room full of other people. I guess I'll ask my PT if there's a plan or like timeline or like, idk, something we should look for, or what. IDK what a realistic goal is. Pain-free seems out of reach. I'd settle for largely functional, I guess? But I don't know, and I guess I'm on my own to figure it out.

And the same with the ADHD! She was like "oh, your insurance isn't going to cover it and it's probably going to take months of waiting, but you had better go see someone about that", and refused to engage any further. So I messaged the psychiatrist today and he doesn't check the messages on that platform so I texted the admin who was like oh usually medication is adjusted at follow-ups, and I'm like well in the three minutes he talked to me it didn't come up I guess, so then they texted back that he says to try taking two pills a day for a couple days and then schedule a follow-up.

I've asked around, and usually I guess the regular adderall pills, you take in two doses at separate times. But if the point is that I'm trying to see if a higher dose helps, I'd probably better take them at the same time??

It's just that when the small ineffective dose wears off four or five hours after I take it, without my ever having had a good phase, I get horribly drowsy and also get this kind of gross formless yearning that I think might be a dopamine crash, where I roam the house in itchy horrible discontent trying to think of something that might help me, but it's not candy and it's not reading a book and it's not napping, and I guess I understand why people turn to drugs or self-harm because the feeling is awful, spacy and wrung-out and aimlessly needy.

But I guess it's up to me to research what that is and what to do about it, and then at my $250 three-minute follow-up appointment in three days or whatever I'll tell the psych what I want prescribed to me, because it's sure as shit not like he's going to have any fucking advice for me.

And like. Laugh out loud at the notion that my primary care physician would give a single shit about this. Maybe I didn't mention this on here either but literally the only thing she has looked into about me is that my blood tests came back with a fasting blood glucose level of 5.7 (idk what units, just that she's fixated on that number) and it is exactly entirely that post circulating about """"pre-diabetes"""? She has put in my chart that she wants to start me on Metformin!! Christ all fucking mighty, it could not be more obvious that she took one look at my fat ass and was like "this bitch eats only candy! I'd better scare her straight!"

Ma'am fuck off. She wants me to get my blood retested in July and I am figuring I'll take advantage of having to have a visit then anyway to get the ADHD stuff entered into my main chart, and I'm also going to tell her that since she was so disinterested in literally any of the conditions actually debilitating me (my hip pain and my ADHD) I had to research those so I could treat myself, and in the course of researching that I found out about the fake "epidemic" of "pre-diabetes" which isn't a thing, it's a fucking PR gambit to sell drugs, and so if she prescribes me diabetes drugs when I do not fucking have diabetes I will not be taking them, and I will also be looking for a new doctor, because I do not appreciate her fixation on treating a condition I do not have while ignoring things that are literally preventing me from leading the life I want to, wherein I can do things like, stand/walk as much as I like and can also like, perform tasks.

So there's my timeline.

(Yeah my insurance won't cover blood testing a second time in a year so that's gonna cost me $200ish, and the phone doctor visit she insisted on to discuss the results last time was $45 and it'll be that again for this one, but I mean, eventually I'll hit my deductible maybe.)

I don't know, people tell me that they have medical professionals that actually listen to and treat them and give them like actual good actionable advice on how to improve their various health conditions but as far as I can tell that all sounds fake and isn't a thing.

Unfortunately, I am too fucking debilitated by my Can't Think Good disease to do a competent job at caring for myself, so I guess I'm just going to have to fucking muddle through somehow, or something.

Probably I should put together my citations on how Pre-Diabetes Is Fake so that when I unload that on my doctor I can do so with fucking footnotes at least. Lord knows I can't sleep at the moment so I might as well do something productive.

[gotafewtricks]

dear my new fav kiri writer,

if you saw the le sserafim collab (kiri's hot, fite me), you know that romance dynamic where it's like idol x fan but the idol is the fan's bff and the fan (who has big crush on idol to the point they buy ONLY merch of them) has no clue said idol is their friend (and the idol's real struggle of "do i tell them i'm idol or i just watch them be an absolute dork at simping me") lmao

if you can pull it out of a hat, i'll love that lol

★ I'm (maybe) fearless

Really? I'm pretty honoured. I wrote like, two sentences with her and you already like my interpretation of Kiriko? Honoured <33 Anyways, YES, mhm—I have seen that! I've been meaning to play around with this dynamic, anyways :3

I could see Kiriko as a popular singer and dancer; though, I could also see her as a YouTube personality as well. I'll settle with a singing Kiri for now :3

As a vocalist, Kiriko had to work her way up to the top. It was rather difficult having to hide all of that at first; knowing damn well how it would affect her life outside of the showbiz. Scheduling was something she'd worry herself to death over; knowing that her easygoing personality wouldn't fair well with having to keep up with dates, knowing the promises she's made to her friends back home, and her fans.

Being a close friend of Kiriko was such a rewarding experience—you knew how determined she was at her job, with clearing out the yakuza scum of Kanezaka. You'd worry about her often, with how it may even take her a few days, to weeks, or even a month to get back in touch with you. You understood that those were times where she was busy with the Hashimoto; as it wasn't just tiring, exhuasting local work. She has explained to you about their, the Hashimoto's, extensive relations with other criminal organizations around Japan.

Though, what you didn't understand, was that Kiriko wasn't just occupied with beating up some petty criminals in her absence.

As much as she hates to lie, she knows that she cannot be visible as a pop star. Not only she would become a much bigger target, she already keeps her work more on the downlow with the Hashimoto—and, even then, she is recognized as one of the heroines of Kanezaka. Alongside with the reputation of her mom being a formidable foe with the blade, and her dad being a known weapons-maker... it makes the girl's head hurt having to process what'll happen.

You were a huge fan of Kiriko's idol persona—really, really huge. Photocards upon photocards would be decorated with cute stickers, slid inside holographic heart sleeves to add to your ever-more growing collection. It'd embarrass you if you actually tallied the amount of money you've spent.

You were there at the beginning of her career, finding her randomly by chance whilst refreshing your recommended feed. Taking a listen to a few songs she was cast in, and you were automatically hooked. Either it was just her energy, voice, looks... everything about her was just something, someone rather, that you could find some ultimate comfort it.

Although, you were not on the verge of it being a disturbing obsession—as you were rather worried about your favourite idol. You'd understand if she had to post something about taking a brief hiatus, as you'd imagine yourself being so, so exhausted being in such a position. There was just something so relatable with her that makes you connect all the better to her—she just really felt real.

Often times, many people would put up a fake smile; a façade, in front of fans that only like them because of a shared attribute. Either just appearance or that "Ah, yeah, you sound good!" aesthetic, you were glad that you saw the girl on stage and acting like herself. There was such an energy would would always be commented on in interviews that the idol would have, and you always wondered how she was always so energetic.

Maybe she was an incredible actor, you'd muse.

The thing you hated most, though, was not being able to watch any of the videos as soon as they'd drop. You knew to not disturb Kiriko by messaging her during important missions, but you can't help but send her some screencaps of some really adorable pictures of your favourite idol, now, can you? Kiriko would laugh whenever you'd complain about how she always has to go out whenever there were tours going on.

Kiriko, at first, would be extremely flattered. She does have a crush on you, and has had one for a while, but she didn't want to ever complicate things.

Seeing you gush about her idol career, and how you related so much to this celebrity—and how you loved literally everything about her, Kiriko couldn't help but feel just oh-so flustered over... "Heh, wow... my crush likes me?"

There was something that Kiriko did take notice of, and it was with how you phrased everything that she did appreciate. Not just the compliments, and even if you did just praise and praise her vocal talent, perfomances, and looks—there was something that Kiriko did enjoy listening about, and it was how you really felt, in comparison. Because, all-in-all, Kiriko loves her fans. Every single one of them.

If she could sign autographs all day, if she could talk to everyone at a meet-and-greet, if she could spend hours and hours rambling at panels and conventions—oh, she would. She adores how she was able to build up such a community, and how it thrives off of interaction. Not just from her, but how everyone else is just so supportive. It really makes her feel like she is doing so much more for not only just the town of Kanezaka, and not just for Japan—but for the countless, countless others out there in the world.

There was something special, though, with being best friends with a fan.

You'd talk to her about a new single release, talking about what your interpretation of the song was. You could easily tell that it was experimental, as the lyrics were not written by her herself—rather, someone else. Her phrasing would have more wordplay—her cadence would've been more casual and loose, to reflect on her more teasing, playful nature she likes to exhibit on-stage. You'd explain, with stars in your eyes, about all of those little details you've noticed.

Kiriko would nod along, affirmingly so. It's not like she's had to be in the studio, recording for hours and hours at a time to get the perfect take—having the mixers work at the vocals and instrumentals.

It took Kiriko a long while to think about this, but she finally did come up with a way to express her view, and to finally fess up to you.

Kiriko wasn't one to lie, as it made her feel dirty. Obviously, she does have a trouble-making stream to her name—running around the streets of her hometown whilst trying to get to the bakery first-thing was something she'd always get motherly chided for. As with her career, she felt like she really had to tell someone. It wasn't illegal for her to be an influencer, but it felt like she was lying to her best friend—lying to you.

She didn't know how you'd react. There was a surprising amount of comfort she did feel whenever you'd talk about her idol persona, considering you didn't blindly just love the music and her looks—rather, her personality, and how real and tangible she felt. How she was able to make such a committed, compelling fanbase that you were proud to be apart of, and to contribute to it. With everyone else having nothing but praise for the young rising star, Kiriko would be a bit scared at the fact of someone only liking her just due to a shallow reputation.

Though, over the course of this life, she felt both fulfilled in not only receiving the love of many others; but giving it all back in her work. Either with her songs, or some pest (Hashimoto) control, she's in debt to all of her fans. She really couldn't thank them enough.

As her heart drew heavy, the worries increasing everyday, she just might as well spit it out. With your concluded reasoning, Kiriko thought that you'd understand why she had to keep it a secret—obviously—and not go around telling anyone else. She knows about the industry, and how celebs with lovers are treated, so she just needs to be careful—teetering across those rules.

Whilst the two of you were together out at night, hanging out behind the arcade—per usual—you offered Kiriko one of your earbuds. It was playing one of her songs, and you were bopping your head to the rhythm; whispering the lyrics to yourself.

"Do you want to know something?" Kiriko would then ask, and she immediately felt her heart thump. Just being close to you already makes her feel so, so anxious; it felt as if she wasn't a pop star, and wasn't an expertly-trained ninja—just a little schoolgirl again.

With a hum, you'd turn your attention to her, adjusting your position on the ground to be more comfortable. With your legs in the right spot, you then settled down. "Yes? I'm sorry, this song is so good."

With a laugh, Kiriko would reassure you that it's okay. God, how she loved just seeing you so happy, and with how she was able to leave such a positive imprint on you with her hard work—it felt as if you were her world. Her everything.

"Eh, don't worry." Kiriko's little chuckle was contagious, as you smiled as she gestured her hand towards you. "There's something really funny about this track, actually. I'd be surprised if you didn't already know it; you nerd."

You two then continued on with your banter, and then you listened to what Kiriko had to say about the song. After a moment, the chorus came on, and then Kiriko started to explain her thoughts out—her voice in that tender tone, reserved for the ones closest to her.

"The lyrics were actually written for someone in particular. There's a theory floating around that it's for this idol, or for this other person but..." She'd then laugh, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Pay more attention to the words. You're smart; you can figure it out."

The chorus was then explaining about the singer's love for their best friend, and with how everything matched up so perfectly—the vocalist musing about past childhood memories, talking about certain interests, and explaining their want to fully express yourself... you blushed. You looked up at Kiriko, she was wearing a smirk, and then down at your phone at the song currently being played. You didn't want to just assume it was you, as you didn't want to embarrass yourself, but-

"I dunno if you know their name or not, but they do look awfully a lot like you. Maybe I should make the two of you meet, huh?"