#thanks google for tracking those

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

My recommendations when I sign onto YouTube:

Me:

Love that for me

#my favorite topics as of late #thanks google for tracking those #daenerys targaryen #jensen ackles #emilia clarke #blogposts

[loveletterworm]

...so help me if “religious ska” was foreshadowing. so help me if “religious ska” was foreshadowing deltarune will be the best game ever with no flaws

#to elaborate: #some of the random encounter enemies for chapter 3 are silhouettes of guys with fedoras #which resembles the sort of artwork that turns up if you search ''ska'' on google images i dont know its exact history #And since deltarune has all its talking of the angel's heaven and everything #if those shadow guys are lackeys of the main chapter boss #it would totally track for the main boss to be a technically religious ska fan. Thank you for your time #mypost #dt

[thotsfortherapy]

so for those of you who don't know, I was recently diagnosed with ADHD-I. So far, I think my favourite thing that I've learned is the idea of "embrace the pivot".

Have you ever found a productivity system that works for you (whether it be your Google calendar, bullet journaling, agenda-ing, etc), and you're so pumped because it's like finally! Now I can actually get some stuff done! But then time passes, days or weeks or years, and the novelty of it runs out, and then it kind of just... Stops working. It can be so frustrating, because this thing that used to work no longer works for seemingly no reason.

But, that isn't a failing of the thing, that thing worked for a certain amount of time, and that's good! I used a massive agenda in my first year of uni, and it kept me on track for all my assignments. My second year agenda? Barely touched it. Instead, I started to use a bullet journal, and that was the thing that helped me through most of the year. But as time went on, my spreads got less creative, and in the final term, I didn't even want to touch it because it was too much work. So I switched to Notion.

The agenda didn't fail me, and neither did the bullet journal, it just worked for a certain amount of time. And when that time inevitably runs out, you can just say, "thank you for serving me for so long, I'm going to pivot to the next thing." And then you do it without feeling like you should try harder or like that thing failed you.

This doesn't just have to apply to productivity either. Systems, tools, habits, hobbies, coping mechanisms.. They all serve their purpose. It's okay to let them go when the time comes.

#cy says stuff #adhd #also i think it's fun because then you learn new skills too #bullet journaling helped my creativity #notion taught me how to design templates based on my own preferences as opposed to presets #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k

[writingwithcolor]

Hey folks!

It has been a while! Well, we wanted to announce some big things coming your way!

WWC Askbox: Soft Re-Opening

Wednesday, Nov 1, 2023 to Thursday, Nov 30, 2023

In light of the recent attention WWC has received by the writeblr community, and the reception to our Guide to Academic Research—the mods have decided that we will temporarily reopen to your questions and test some important changes to the site! As you may have noticed, we've taken a much-needed break to catch up on our personal lives and restore our inspiration to answer the hundreds of Q&A that we receive. 

Once the submission window is up on Nov 30, we will evaluate how our new system is going, tinker some more, and reopen once again once the construction dust clears.

New Rules and FAQ! 

We are pleased to announce our new and improved Masterpost, which we hope will be a more centralized, more informative resource for those new and returning to WWC. 

Brand-new FAQs, with new answers and content for further reading

Code of Conduct and other etiquette rules

The Ask Tutorial—a guide to writing a good ask that we’ll answer!

Moving forward, all followers are required to go through the masterpost to submit a question so they are aware of the new rules, terms & conditions. 

Read the masterpost here and ask your question!

New Process

We're piloting out our own personal askbox via Google Forms. This will help us streamline the process and keep track of everyone’s questions.

We are also introducing the Deletion Log, a public, anonymous ledger that lets you know if your question (identified by a number code) has been deleted due to a rule violation, and what you can do to resubmit. Check out the Deletion Log here. 

Want to submit an ask? 

The below are topics of asks that we will get to right away, based on the mods who are currently active. 

Black 

Chinese

Colonialism

Iranian/Persian 

Japanese (INCLUDING: Anime fanfic questions! Only Mod Rina will be answering anime questions, and only if she feels that the ask would make for an educational post.)

Jewish

Mixed race

South Asian: Hindu, Indian, Punjabi, Sikh (please remember that when asking about South Asia you must indicate region & time period) 

Taiwanese 

Writing/Publishing industry 

Coming Soon: Writingwithcolor.org

We've made tremendous progress on writingwithcolor.org and are almost ready to show off the more permanent residence of WritingWithColor! However, it'll take a lot of time to fully transfer posts and links. To get the new look and all its benefits to you faster, we plan for a soft launch of the content. This will include back and forth linking between WritingWithColor.org and our home on Tumblr. We'll try to keep things seamless and your viewing experience on Tumblr shouldn't be too interrupted. Launch date is coming soon!

New Mod Applications

We still have some applications from our last call of mods and folks to respond to. So if you haven’t heard back, sorry for the delay, but no worries—we will get back to you as we start shaking the dust off our bones and getting back into Q&A. Once we are ready to invite more mods again, we'll continue our outreach.

A Special Thanks To You All

We want to thank you for your continued support, whether it’s been viewership, spreading the word about us, or sending us a tip that supports our domain and future projects for you all. The whole team really appreciates it. We will keep bringing you our best advice and guides on all things good writing with inclusivity. 

Be well and keep writing!

~WWC

#announcements #writing with color #writeblr #send asks

[writingsfromhome]

Impossibly Real

A/N: cute little story about being in a rough dating world and having a nice neighbour friend.

Part 2

———————————————————

I memorize the face on my phone whilst standing in the middle of my building lobby. I study it as if I hadn’t been staring at his pictures since we both swiped right a couple weeks ago.

“Hot date?” A voice calls out. I look up to the source—one of my neighbours with takeaway in one hand and a case of beer in the other. The smell of his dinner makes my stomach rumble—I’d skipped dinner myself for this 8pm date.

“A very hot date,” I respond. Harry was one of the first people I’d interacted with when I moved to this complex a year and a half ago. He’d helped me move my boxed mattress in and I thanked him with a lukewarm beer. Ever since, we’d pick up on conversation every time we saw each other.

Most of those times were when we’d both be rushing out to work in the morning. Sometimes he’d walk to the tube with me, both of us going in opposite directions. Other times his girlfriend would pick him up.

“Let’s see,” he switches his beer to the other hand and holds his hand out.

I pretend to open the app and look for my date’s profile as if it hadn’t been open for the last three hours. He makes a sound of approval when I pass it over.

“Right?” I grin as he scans the profile.

I wasn’t always lucky in love. When Harry first met me I was fresh out of a 3 year relationship, and the only things to follow were bad dates and lonely nights.

“Likes pizza?” Harry says like he’d just caught sight of the guy’s private pictures.

“Yeah? So what?” I feel my defences go up. “Who doesn’t?”

“Yeah but that’s so…basic.” He hands the phone back. “That’s like saying ‘Drinks tea’ or ‘breathes air’.”

“No it’s not!” I wanted this to be a good one so badly, I wouldn’t hear any of Harry’s slander. “It’s relatable, and shows he’s down to earth.”

Harry groans. “Remind me what you do for work?”

I squint at him, unsure where he was going with his. “Analyst.”

“Ah,” he switches his beer back to his other hand and it snaps me out of the moment. I always lost track of time talking to Harry and this couldn’t be one of those times. I had somewhere to be!

“Ah what?” I glance at the door.

“As an analyst you’re used to reading into things-“

“Piss off!” I shut him down. “I’m leaving now.”

“I’m joking!” Harry calls out. “I’m sure he’s a great guy.”

I don’t respond to him as I walk away but he calls out my name.

“You look great, it’ll be a good date.”

“Fingers crossed,” I echo. “Enjoy your night.”

I find a taxi quickly and sit on my hands the whole way there so I don’t pick at my nails. There was no such thing as out of my league, I remind myself. He was just going to be a guy. A good looking guy.

***

“I’m getting a bit tipsy,” Dave admits. It was half past 9 and we’d had 5 drinks total, one of those being a nervous shot when he hadn’t showed up in the first ten minutes.

“We should get something to eat!” I suggest.

He grimaces. “It’s a bit overpriced in here.”

Oh. He was cheap.

That was rude. I snap out of my darkening thoughts. I couldn’t help it: not only was Dave late, he looked 5 years older than his pictures, which wasn’t a bad thing, but he was also 5 inches shorter than his profile stated.

It was awkward when he came in and I got up to hug him. I’d worn my 3 inch heels expecting to still come to his chest but we’d met at eye level instead. I didn’t want to make it awkward so I had sat down quickly. I regretted wearing these heels. They were chaffing against my feet even whilst sitting.

And the whole evening had been stiff conversation, like rubbing sandpaper against itself. It had ended in a dull evening. He was cute. That was all he had going for him.

“There’s a really good pizza place around here!” I say casually, like I hadn’t Googled the vicinity for an hour after we’d made plans. “I heard it was rated top 10 in the city.

His grimace comes back, it made him more unattractive the more he did it.

“I can go for some chips. There’s probably one down the road, you alright for a walk?”

“Great!” Maybe some fresh air and a change of scenery could spice the night up.

He pays the bill—maybe he wasn’t so cheap, I think. That is until we get to the chips shop and he hangs back for me to order for us. And pay.

I can already imagine retelling this date to my girl friends. They were all engaged or married so my dating stories were always amusing content for our hangouts.

Crossing from 20 to 30 made the stories more tragic than amusing, but I lived to laugh and that’s what I usually did after getting over bad dates like this one.

“It’s a nice night,” Dave says when we get our chips. He douses his in ketchup like a toddler would. Gah!

“It is…”

“Let’s take these outside.”

I’d rather not, with my heels digging into the backs of my feet and the blisters chafing against the fake leather. But I agree.

“So what’s with the pink?” He asks randomly.

“What?” I say over a mouthful of chip. I didn’t care how disgusting I was at this point. He’d done the bill-for-a-bill thing without asking and I’d lost any hope I had for the evening. I may as well be gross.

“The pink, you’ve got it at the bottoms of your hair and your earrings, your lips and your skirt and your heels-“

“I like pink.”

“That’s obvious,” he says dryly. “Is there a story behind it or something? Usually only schoolgirls wear their favourite colour that much.”

And usually only younger boys have fries with they ketchup rather ketchup with their fries, I want to say. But I keep my mouth shut.

“I think it’s overrated that getting older means getting all serious and boring. Pink’s my favourite colour and the world can know it. Be brighter for knowing it too.”

I keep my tone light yet Dave seems to takes my personal philosophy as a direct attack.

“But it’s a bit juvenile isn’t it? You don’t have to be boring just because you’re an adult but no one’s going to take you much seriously all dressed in pink. It’s a bit childish.”

“Not childish enough for you to want to go on a date with me,” I say. My pink hair was on display in my profile as well as many pink outfits throughout my linked Instagram. I know he’d seen it.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, not like that.” He backtracks. His face turns my favourite colour, even in the dark.

“When grown men are obsessed with Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or whatever, nobody bats an eye. They show up with fictional characters on their shirt and tattooed on their arms and it’s all dandy. But you think the world’s going to take me less seriously because I wear a lot of pink?”

“Okay I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” Dave backs down like I knew he would. I’d known too many boys like him, who charged up when they thought they had an ounce of intellect over me. Reciprocate with even an ounce of assertive energy and they back down like a well-trained dog.

This night was tragic. My hopes up for nothing. And my feet were blistered for no damn reason.

“I think we’ve understood each other just fine.” I wipe my hands on a napkin and toss the rest of my chips away, ignoring the look Dave gives me. “It was a night, I’m going to head home now.”

“Look I-“

“Goodnight.” I walk away. I had no idea what direction but as long as I can end the night with the hope-zapper Dave.

***

On the lift up to my flat I look at myself in the mirror. Dead eyes, flushed and puffy face from the alcohol, and my hair was voluminous from the windy night air. I couldn’t wait to get to my flat and take my stupid heels off. They were so painful they’d now actually gone numb.

My phone rings as I get to my door. Dave. The nerve of that guy!

I put it on silent and fish out my keys but my phone buzzes a second time and I drop them.

“Fuck!” I say just as the door behind me opens.

“Woah!” Harry steps back into his flat after nearly tripping over my crouched figure.

“Ugh sorry,” I stand back up, keys looped around my finger.

“You’re back early.” Harry slowly eyes me from top to bottom. It makes my stomach feel like a washing machine on high. “Nice night with pizza guy?”

“Pizza guy was just like the others.”

I lean against my door and ignore my phone that’s now gone off for the third time in my purse.

“Fair enough. He did say he likes pizza.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I whine. “I just wasted £30 on shite company.”

“Can I offer you a beer or have you had too many?”

I look down at my watch. It was half past 10, and I had work tomorrow but life was short and I was miserable so I follow Harry in.

“I’ll just toss this later.”

It’s only then I realize Harry had a trash bag in his hands and he was in his boxers and a robe. He rests the bag near his door and motions to the fridge as he walks down his hall. “Grab me one too?”

I’d been in Harry’s flat a few time, once when I baked too many sugar cookies for Christmas and he invited me in to eat with him. Another time when he was having a birthday party. I had thought it was cute his friends had done that for him old school. The last time was when my wifi stopped working one weekend and I had to ask him to use his. That was a nice day, both of us were going through busy season and had worked side by side on our laptops until Harry announced we were losers and should stop working to get dinner and watch a movie. That was one of my favourite days living in this complex so far.

I’m still standing in his kitchen when he comes out with sweatpants.

“Why are you still standing there?”

I look down at my shoes and so does he.

“Don’t you want to take those off?” Harry lifts one brow, confused.

“I’m scared.” I say. I didn’t know what I’d find. I felt like I was standing in a pool of blood.

“Why?” Harry was lucky he didn’t know the fear of taking off awful shoes after a long day of breaking them in. Men were lucky that way.

I shift my heel away from the back of the shoe and pain shoots up. It sounds sticky. I whimper. “Can you get me a chair?”

“What did you wear?” Harry’s staring at them with a mixture of fear and confusion. He carries one of his dining chairs to me. “Those are like, torture heels.”

“Tonight was torture.” I sit down and cross my foot over my knee. I take a deep breath. Harry hovers above me not able to look away. “Here goes nothing.”

I pry the shoe away and nearly cry.

“Oh my god!” Harry shouts. “Yo-you’re bleeding! What the f-“

“Oh my god,” I was dripping onto his floor. “Can I get-“

“Tissue!” Harry’s already throwing me his roll but I knock it away.

“I need help. Getting. To the bathroom.”

“Right right.” Harry kicks my shoe away and leans down so I can wrap my arm around his shoulder. I feel like an injured football player but so much more pathetic as I limp to his bathroom.

He sets me down on his toilet seat and blasts the tub with water.

“Sorry,” I limp to the edge of his bathtub and swing myself so that my feet dangle in. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your night.”

“I’m glad you did,” Harry’s voice still carries a hint of shock. “What is wrong with you? That’s diabolical you wearing shoes like that! What’s wrong with trainers? Or sandals? Don’t girls like strap sandals?”

“It just comes with being a woman okay?” I couldn’t answer all his questions. “I still need to take off the other one.”

I was more scared for my right foot than my left.

“Just…deal with that.”

Harry’s tub is filling with water and it stings everywhere it touches my foot. But especially my heel and all of my toes. I switch the knob to cold.

“Okay,” I take a deep breath. “The other fucking shoe.”

I can feel Harry peering over my shoulder. This one feels glued on and I squeal as I comes off. My foot looked like a bruised and crusted mess.

“Holy sh-“ Harry whispers. I dunk it fast in the running water and nearly topple backwards but Harry catches me with his knee and then stays there so I have somewhere to lean. It was nice.

“Bloody hell,” I swear as my feet sting and paint the water pink. “Genuinely so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be.” Harry shakes his head. “But please toss those shoes in the bin and never wear something like that again.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. It’s very possible.”

“I love heels! I just need to break these in.”

“They’re breaking you love.”

I feel him stiffen behind me which makes me suddenly self-conscious. I didn’t really read into his words, love was just a term of affection used around my friends. But apparently it wasn’t something Harry used lightly.

“They are. These ones are going in the bin, DNA and all.” I try to continue casually. This was so weird. Weirder than it needed to be given Harry and I were mates at most; I’d met his girlfriend, I didn’t think of him anything more than a neighbourhood friend. We certainly hadn’t hung out outside our flats before.

“Maybe burn them to be sure,” Harry finally responds. His voice is a bit rougher than before. “Don’t want to get accidentally framed with the free DNA.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d be too obvious a murderer to commit anything stealthily. They’d identify the pink-haired giant walking away.”

“You’re not a giant. You’re not even 6 feet.”

“I’m nearly 5’9 which is tall enough for a woman.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry brushes my hair behind my shoulder and a shiver runs up my spine. Maybe I should turn the icy water off. “Plus I like the pink. Makes you more interesting to look at.”

“So I’m not interesting to look at regularly?” I tease. I look up at him and the back of my head hits his thigh.

I see his adam’s apple bob and I suddenly feel vulnerable sitting here like this. I lean forward so my feet are steadied against the tub which is agonizing for my bloody feet but at least I wasn’t leaning against him.

“I said more interesting.”

The room grows quiet and I try not to read into it. Harry thought I was interesting to look at. Okay.

I turn the tap off and the silence in the room becomes unbearable.

“Have you got any plasters?” I turn inch by inch so I don’t slip on the lip of the tub or need more help from Harry. The energy in here was weird and him touching me was going to make it weirder.

“Yeah,” he’s eager to leave only to come back laughing. “They’re actually here. I…”

He opens a drawer and pulls a box out along with a tiny vial.

I take it from him, some sort of ointment oil. Why not.

“Motherf-“ I bite my lip as the ointment stings my cuts. “Why wouldn’t you warn me!”

Harry laughs again and it eases the tension a little. “I thought you knew it would burn!”

“I don’t treat cuts often jeez!”

“Sorry! That friend—you met him at my party, black curly hair, the one who does custom stuff?”

“Oh yeah I remember.”

“I helped him out one summer. I had to hand cut all these signs using one of those exacto blades? Cut my hands up so many times I had to buy something for them after one of them got infected.”

I wrinkle my nose at the idea of an infected cut and douse my other foot in the oil, swearing as I take the pain.

“I have a roll and cotton if you want to bandage your foot?” Harry suggests. “I don’t know if regular plasters cut it.”

“That’s so dramatic,” I usually stuck a couple plasters on and got on with it. But this was also the worst I’d ever had with breaking shoes in.

“Let me-“

“No!” I push Harry’s shoulder away as he leans down with the roll of bandage he’d procured. “Harry do not touch my foot!”

“I’ve dressed grosser,” he holds my heel gently and I try to yank it away again without falling into the tub but it’s impossible. I settle for pushing him away.

“Harry please! I’ve intruded enough stop touching my disgusting foot!”

“I’ve seen you wash it. It’s not disgusting, just bloody. Now stop squirming about!”

“Why are you…” I trail away because he wasn’t listening. He dabs my foot with a cotton pad and then begins the process of bandaging my heel and then my toe. I try not to squirm at how embarrassing this was.

Harry’s gentle and attentive as he moves on to the other foot which should make me feel okay but only adds to the humiliation. We were so not close enough to do this—I don’t even know if I’d do the same for him.

Another part of me knows I would. Despite knowing him in passing, plus a few solid occasions, I could tell Harry was one of the good guys. He was always chivalrous around the building, friendly in any interaction I’d seen with him, loved enough to be thrown a surprise birthday party, and caring enough to always ask about how I was doing. And to do this.

When he glances up I don’t expect it. Our gazes clash and the weird energy from before creeps in again.

“Sorted,” he lets my foot down gently.

“Harry I owe you like…a massive dinner, and drinks are on me forever forward.”

“That’s not necessary,” he chuckles as he puts his little first aid kit back. “Just don’t wear heels like that again please. It’s not worth it.”

“They’re so pretty though,” I sigh. They’re now discarded on the tiled floor, the insides bloody.

“Let’s get you that beer,” he holds a hand out.

“I can’t. I’ve kept you late and you probably-“

“One beer.”

“I don’t want to intrude-“

“Just one,” his tone is gentle but he’s not taking no for an answer.

“Fine!” I admit defeat. He helps me up and together I limp to his couch.

We sit in silence for a bit while we drink. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but the events of the evening play in my head.

“He actually insulted me.” I blurt. Before he can ask questions I explain. “Firstly he was late, then he was droning on and on about shit I don’t even remember anymore. Then he was cheap about food, but because he paid for drinks he got me to pay for chips. Then he said I wear too much pink and nobody would take me seriously as an adult. That it was childish.”

“Really?” Harry leans forward from his end of the couch. “He said all that?”

“Yeah! I said men are allowed to wear their Star Wars shirts and Lord of the Rings bullshite. And when a woman wears more than one article of pink she’s childish?”

“What a prick.”

“I know!”

“You’re too good for someone like that.”

“Thank you,” I sit back, seen and validated.

“The pink makes you cool, stand out in a crowd. He’s just blind to look at you and think that. Or he’s just intimidated.”

“Oh yeah he lied about his height! So I stood there in those stupid pink heels taller than him.”

“That must have got him,” Harry grins. “I actually love that story.”

His words warm me.

“You’re so nice Harry,” I tell him. “Honestly you’re like a gem of a guy.”

“I’m not that nice-“

“Don’t tell me you’re a bad boy or something because you’re a solid good guy. Rare. Never change.”

“Hmph,” he clears his throat.

“Your girlfriend’s lucky. A lot of us have to put up with trolls before we find a good guy like you.”

Harry stays silent. Maybe I’d said too much. Maybe I should stop drinking.

“We broke up. Wasn’t good enough for her.”

Shite. Blistered, bloody, bandaged foot directly in mouth..

“I-I’m sorry. To hear that! Oh my god yeah I guess I haven’t seen her in a while-“

“Yeah been a few months now. I’m mostly over it.”

“How long were you two dating again?”

“Almost 3,” Harry twists his mouth to the side. I’d never seen him look bitter before. “I accepted it, the end of us. Until I hear from a friend she jumped right into another relationship. So…that must have been behind the scenes near the end of our relationship.”

Bitter indeed. “That’s a shitty way to find out too.”

“I wish she was just honest. Y’know like, I met someone else whatever. At least that way I took the hit at once and then got over it. Instead after a month of moving on I just got punched all over again.”

“That’s a dick move.” I agree. “I’ve seen you so many times the last few months why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, “I didn’t want to bring down the mood. Felt too loaded for a conversation on the lift.”

“You could have saved it for a walking-to-the-tube conversation?”

“Then just part ways after dropping that on you?”

“Isn’t that perfect?” I tease and he covers his face. I change the subject. “My 3.5 year relationship ended when he said he didn’t see me as marriage material.”

“I thought it was a mutual breakup?” Harry asks. I’m surprised he remembers what I told him when I first moved in.

“I lied. I didn’t want you to see me as your pathetically lonely neighbour.”

He laughs at that. At least I’d gotten a smile back on his face. “I thought it was a bit suspicious but I didn’t push it. Every time I saw you when you first moved in it always looked like you cried.”

“Oh my god!” I cover my face. “Don’t tell me that! That’s so embarrassing!”

It was true. I cried for three weeks straight after the breakup but I also thought I was sly enough to get around unnoticed.

“It’s not a big deal! I used to worry about you.”

“That’s another thing that’ll keep me up at night now—but see that’s sweet! You barely knew me and you worried. Like! You were raised right.”

“Sure,” he smiles my way with a laugh in his eyes. He was enjoying making me squirm but it’s this smile, one I’d never seen before directed at me, that made me squirm the most.

“Okay now stop being sweet and kick me out.” I gingerly stand and suck up the fresh pain that comes back.

“You can stay as long a-“

“Harry.” I look at him seriously. “I know we both work demanding jobs, and that’s what we have to do tomorrow morning. It’s past midnight and I should go.”

He sighs and gets up to help me hobble to his door.

“Good thing I live next door—oh my shoes. They’re in your-“

“I’ll get them to you later.” He promises.

“You just want to try them on in private.” I tease as he opens his door. He waits while I fish through my purse again for my keys. I remember then the missed calls from Dave—that feels so long ago.

“I like my feet whole.” He chuckles. “Plus I’m tall enough.”

“Some girls think 6 feet is short.”

“How do you know I’m 6 feet?”

I turn my key and let my door swing open.

“I’m good at telling heights.”

“What’s your secret?”

“Well,” I turn back to him and put my hand on my head. “I get my height and then just measure against the person. I gauge the inches which if I’m close enough-“ Harry moved closer to me so there’s only a few inches between us. “Uhm. If I’m close enough it’s easy to count up or down.”

“So you count up-“

“Three or so inches.” I look up, determined to meet his eye. It was just Harry. I didn’t need to feel weird around my neighbour Harry.

But I can’t look away. I never noticed the depth of his eyes; they’re mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

“It’s a neat party trick.” He says so low, but we’re so close it’s loud as hell to my ears. Or maybe that’s the blood rushing through my head.

“Don’t really go to enough parties to turn it into a trick.” My voice comes out squeaky and I clear my throat. “Mostly useful to compare a dating profile to the real thing.”

“Hm,” he hums. His fingers toy with the pinks of my hair before draping it behind my shoulder.

“I should go.” I say for the millionth time.

He looks at me again and I forget why I should go. His gaze drops to my lips and I feel hot—hotter than the pain on my bloody feet.

“You’re the real thing.”

It’s unconscious, the way I arch up to him. It’s natural, the way he meets me halfway. It’s unforgettable, the way his soft lips feel on mine.

Until I lean my weight on my toes and I’m reminded of my broken feet, this evening, and who I was kissing.

I couldn’t be kissing my neighbour! I saw him nearly every damn day!

“Har-“ I push gently at his chest and he’s quick to move back.

“Sorry I-that-“

“No I’m sorry that was me-“

“We should…”

“Yeah.” I grasp behind my back until my hand touches my doorframe. “Um…thanks for everything. Tonight.”

“Yeah.” Harry’s flushed and somehow more attractive than I’ve ever noticed. He also has a smidge of pink lipstick at the corner of his mouth but I file that away for later. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” I turn and quickly close my door, knowing Harry was not going to be the first to leave. Despite my head telling me not to, I turn and peep through the peephole. He’s still leaning against his doorframe, head bowed, running his hand through his hair. I watch him mutter something and then go in. I stay there until the automatic light switches off and then sink to the floor.

Harry. Friendly, funny, neighbour Harry. He’d dressed my bloody feet, served me beer, and then kissed me.

I touch my lips. I wasn’t even mad about it. This was going to be complicated no doubt, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

***

I manage to avoid Harry for a week. Which is a pretty impressive feat given our doors nearly open onto each others.

But he catches me on the lift after work one day. There’s already two others beside me and Harry nearly misses the lift, slipping in just as it’s closing. He does a double take when he sees me.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

“Smart choice of shoes.”

We look down at my Stan Smiths.

“I’ve learned my lesson…for now.” I look back up at the row of numbers. The lift stops on floor 5 and the couple get out.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states simply when the door closes.

“I have not!” I finally look at him and nearly lose my breath. When did he become so attractive?!

“We see each other almost every day living the way we do. And you’re telling me we managed to miss each other for a week?”

I shrug, “it’s been a weird week.”

“When did the weird week start?”

Saved by the bell. The doors open to our floors with a ding, but Harry blocks me from my front door.

“Are you serious?” I try to sidestep him but he stays in my path.

“We should talk.”

“We’re talking now.”

“C’mon.” He sighs and moves out of my way. I sigh myself before opening my door and leaving it open behind me. He takes the hint.

“I want to apologize for that night.” Harry says. “I was just feeling vulnerable and it shouldn’t have happened-“

“You’re joking right? I was going on about how good you were and I got a little too into it I think. I totally kissed you so I’m sorry. For making it weird-“

“I kissed you,” Harry tries to correct me.

“No I kissed you so I should apolog-“

“No.” Harry cuts me off.

“Why are we arguing about this?” I throw my hands up. We’re standing in the entryway going back and forth about this. It was stupid. “We’re both sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Let’s just move on okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “So we’re friends? You’re not going to avoid me in the building?”

“No.” I put my hands on my hips. “Cuz I wasn’t avoiding you in the first place.”

He laughs, throwing his head back and my breath catches. I lied. I wasn’t sorry I kissed him but I was sorry it ruined our friendship. Damnit.

“You’re impossible.”

“I thought I was the real thing?” I ask without thinking.

Slightly healed, but still bruised foot, directly in mouth!!!

“Impossible things can be real,” Harry’s mood changes. He stands taller and he takes a step towards me. “Do…do you want us to just move on?”

I don’t know how to answer that.

“I…we live right next to each other Harry. It’s-“

“Unconventional but not impossible.”

“Impossible.”

“But it can still be real.”

I can’t help it. I grin at how serious he was being with his play on words. He was serious about this though. It scared me a little.

“A date.”

“What about it?” I ask.

“We go on a date, see how things are. It they’re weird we go back to friends like we always were. If it’s good…”

“Okay. How about Friday?” I wanted this as much as it seemed like he wanted it. Dating was hard, apps were impossible. This good and kind man standing in front of me was impossible and real.

“Friday’s perfect. Wednesday would be even better.”

“Today is Wednesday.” I say before realizing what he meant.

“It is.”

“Okay. Pick me up at 7?”

“I’ll be on time.” Harry’s grin is contagious.

“Great.” I watch him walk back to the door.

“One favour?” He asks. I ask him what it is. “Wear something pink?”

“Most definitely.” My heart surges and I feel seen. So seen.

I think he was the real thing too. Impossibly real. And possibly something more than neighbourly friends.

Excited and hopeful were an understatement. I couldn’t wait.

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #one shot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #fic #impossibly real #i’ve been writing a little again #most of my stuff is angsty and annoying so #heres the fluffier piece lol

[cnovelartreblogs]

C-Novels Available in English Translation

A few weeks ago, a few of my danmei-loving friends and I got to talking about how much there is that we want to read, but that none of us have been very organized about keeping track of titles, fantranslation links, etc.

So, we decided to make a spreadsheet.

AND to combine every link we'd each separately stashed around on that spreadsheet.

The result is a list of 102 titles (currently 96 are danmei, 5 are baihe, and 1 is gen, reflecting our personal interests/preferences) with links to translations, some complete, some not. (as of 2/20/23)

Love C-Novels? Especially danmei? Looking for something to read? Check it out!

Some notes:

This is specifically for English translations from Chinese titles. Though some of the links do include other works (for example, some translators also do Japanese, and some Carrds list fantranslations in multiple languages), we're English speakers who are interested in Chinese novels, so we focused on that.

Currently, this is mostly basic information (titles, authors, links), with no summaries, genre tags, etc. We hope to ultimately expand it but that will be a lot of work and the information is already available at the provided NovelUpdates links, so we encourage you to use those.

We make no claims that this list is exhaustive; while the first sheet lists the resources we had collectively already gathered, there's a second sheet with things we know of and intend to add.

We'll try to keep links and such up-to-date but if you spot a problem please let me know!

Know of something that's not on the main list OR on the "to add" page? Please do send the info my way! Comments or ask box stuff will help.

Note that to actually access the fantranslations, you'll often need to take additional action to read them - you may need to request access, or get a password, etc. How to get this access is usually included on the pages.

Known official translations are listed. We will not link fantranslations for titles that are out officially in English. Don't send them. Don't ask for them. We won't help you pirate these titles.

(ADDED): I have also now added carrds for works that I could find carrds for, and added a third sheet, with carrds for authors. (I looked for every title and author and added the ones I could locate; Google asked if I was a bot at least 6 times lmao). Carrds are often good for summaries, information about the characters, and especially trigger warnings, so they're worth checking out! (ADDED MORE): I also added NovelUpdates links for all authors, so people can see a full list of their other works even if they don't have Carrds.

Don't forget to thank and respect translators, and honor their wishes! Without fantranslators, we wouldn't have all this amazing stuff to read in English, so THANK YOU FANTRANSLATORS!

GO FORTH, AND FIND YOUR NEW FAVORITE BOOK!

#danmei #resources #i don't know how to tag this oh well #i'm gonna just not instead of tagging a bajillion different fandom tags #baihe #priest #mo xiang tong xiu #meng xi shi #please don't laugh #mu su li #tang jiu qing

[f1goat]

his teammate + lando norris x part one

In which you find yourself getting closer to your brothers new teammate who's a dick.

lando norris x fem!verstappen (sister) + cursewords + eventually smutty i wrote this before, but i'm rewriting it because i missed somethings. you can comment if you want to be added to a taglist :) thanks for reading!

masterlist x playlist

You remember that one afternoon where your brother Max Verstappen first heard about his new teammate. The whole afternoon was filled up with angry phone calls, many curse words, frustrations and even angrier glances at everyone who had the tiniest part in this decision. You didn’t really get it at first. Max always wanted a teammate who could challenge him on the race track. He didn’t like the last seasons where he had no competition from his own teammate. So what was the problem? It’s safe to say it didn’t took you long before you understood Max his reaction. After you googled his new teammate for a bit, you were quick to find out that the new RedBull driver is trouble. Trouble with a capital T. Maybe even with every letter in capitals. 

Lando Norris is the kind of driver that doesn’t care about anything else then driving. He’s not like Lewis Hamilton who’s putting effort in all kind of good deeds for society. He’s not like Yuki Tsunoda who helped cleaning after the flood in Imola. He’s not like Pierre Gasly and Charles Leclerc who always seem to be with each other in their spare time. He’s not like your brother who always tries to maintain a good relationship with everyone on the grid. Lando Norris doesn’t care about things like that. 

After a bit of searching around, you were quick to find out that Lando Norris only cares about a few things. He cares about girls. No wait, that isn’t the way you need to say this. He doesn’t care about girls and their feelings. He cares about sex. He’s always seen with a different girl, who is gone within a couple hours. He also cares about himself. Maybe a bit too much even. Everyone who talked with you about Lando Norris told you that he’s egocentrically. He cares about his own needs, but doesn’t think about others. 

The most surprising thing about what he cares, is actually a person. It took you a lot of digging, but you found someone Lando Norris actually seems to care about. Someone called Max Fewtrell. They seem to be friends. You found out a bit more about them. It seems that his friend Max is going online often to stream, sometimes Lando shows up for a bit in a stream. You even found some edits on YouTube from streams that were a couple years back. Lando seemed a lot more open on those streams.

Your brother has spend a long time being known as the villain of formula one, but it’s safe to say that Lando Norris took that title from him. He’s known for the dirtiest tricks on and off track. He’s an arrogant ass. Media don’t know a lot about him. His socials are done by media workers from RedBull. He doesn’t post anything himself. It seems like he has walls as high as the Mount Everest all around him.

After all your research about your brothers new teammate, you can safely say that you understand your brothers reaction. Lando Norris seems to be an awful person. You didn’t formally meet him yet, but now when the first race is happening it can’t be long before you do. Max is already complaining about him since he joined the team. You have heard countless complains about the British driver. 

It’s a shame, really. They seemed like a potential match for a great friendship. Your brother is well liked by many of the other drivers and by many fans. He has friends all around the world and always wants to do everything for them. At first you thought it would be Max who could get Lando out of his shell. But apparently they aren’t a great match.

“He doesn’t even care about the team.” “He’s awful.” “He can’t even greet me when I walk into a room.” “You should have seen him, he doesn’t give a fuck.” “He doesn’t want to do media activities.” 

You can dream about his complains. But you get it. So every time your brother is complaining, you listen to him and tell him that he’s right. Lando Norris is an asshole.

Some frustrated sounds around you wake you up from your thoughts. With all this thinking, you almost forgot about the race. It’s the first race of the season. You’re quick to look at the screen in front of you. What is happening? What is causing everyone around you to seem frustrated. When you look at the screen, you notice it directly. There are two cars of the track. Two drivers who are going down in the ranks with a three small letters next to them. DNF. When they replay the accident, you see what everyone around you already saw. Max and Lando pushed each other of the track. 

What an idiots.

Who’s fault was it? You’re tempted to say that Lando is the one to blame, but you don’t know. It seems like a racing incident in which both drivers took too much space from each other. It almost seems like your brother and Lando are testing each other. Who’s the first one to back out? Apparently neither of them. They would rather crash. Idiots. 

You notice that Lando is the first one to arrive back at the motorhome. This race week you barely saw Lando. You have only seen him from a distance. Of course you have seen photographs and even TikTok edits from him before. But you never saw him up close. So you can’t help yourself and stare a bit at him. The angry look on his face is hard to miss. It’s a shame. You have seen enough pictures in which you couldn’t deny that you found him nice looking. Beautiful even. You don’t like anything about the boy, but you can’t deny his good looks. You like the way his curls seem to have a mind of their own. You like the way he always seems to be dressed in a hoodie. Something about him breathes calmness. At least, normally. With the way he’s looking right know, there’s no calmness to be found anywhere close to him. Although, he does look a bit hot like this. Maybe you can scrap that a bit part. He looks hot.

Sometimes you try to remind yourself that you don’t actually know Lando. You’re judging him by words of the media, fans and others. What if it’s all an act to safe himself and his friends from the cruelty of the media and some fans? For all you really know, he’s actually a nice person. When you look at Lando, you are quick to throw that thought away. You truly believe that he isn’t a nice person in secret. He seems coldhearted and closed off to everyone. His attitude and looks from now tell you enough. 

“What the fuck was that Norris?” 

It’s Christian Horner who disrupts your thinking session. You have seen Christian angry plenty of times, but that was always at people from other teams. Mainly at Toto Wolff now you think about it. It’s long ago that you have seen him this angry with a driver of his own team. You start to fear for his reaction to Max.

“I told you to keep it clean!” Christian continues to shout at Lando when he doesn’t get a reply fast enough. 

“Tell that to your other driver,” Lando replies angrily, “He crashed into me. The fucker.”

You can actually hear the frustration in Lando his voice. You don’t like it. They both crashed into each other. This was not your brothers fault. 

“I don’t care what you have planned for this afternoon, but you can scrap all of those plans. Max, you and me are going to talk until you both can race as normal people with each other,” Christian states. 

“Oh fuck off,” Lando says angrily. You notice the way his voice is starting to raise in volume. “We will fight it out on track like actual race drivers,” he continues.

“Like you did today? That would be a great season if you both crashed into each other every race. Don’t you think so?” Christian asks sarcastically. You notice that he wants to continue talking, but Lando is already walking away. He storms off to his drivers room. 

Just in time. Your brother is also walking in right now. Christian is quick to notice Max. He’s even quicker to start shouting at him as well. It’s the same things as he told Lando before. You’re not in the mood for another screaming match. You know your brother well enough to realize that this is going to last for a while. Max is full with frustrations about Lando and those will probably come all out now. You decide to walk away from all the screaming. You can spend some time in Max his drivers room until everyone is calmed down. 

You wander around for a bit. Every new season they change the RedBull motorhome, so the first weeks you’re always lost. Apparently they didn’t use name holders this year. Which room was your brothers again? At the end of the hallway you notice a familiar image. You’re sure that his drivers room is here. There is only one question, which room is his? There are two doors. You guess that if you chose the wrong door, you will find Lando. You sigh and take the guess to open one of the two doors.

“Fuck off.”

Of course. You have enough luck to chose the wrong door. You barely dare to look into the room. Lando is staring at you with an angry glance. You should be nervous about that, but you’re a bit distracted when you notice that Lando isn’t wearing a shirt. Fuck. 

“Shit, sorry,” you quickly mutter, “I thought..”

You can’t finish your sentence. Lando is quick to interrupt you. 

“You thought what? That you could come here to talk about me how I fucked up your brothers race? Get fucking lost,” Lando sneers to you.

You don’t know how to react for a couple seconds. Is this actually happening? What did Lando just say? How can he be blaming you for all those things, when you didn’t even say anything like that. What a dick. 

“Are you fucking deaf? Go away,” Lando continues to say to you. “I don’t care about you or your brother or what happened, so don’t try to make me.”

You start to get angry as well in the mean time. Who does he think he is to talk to you like this? Where’s the respect? He is even worse then you already thought. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You ask him annoyed.

“You’re in my fucking room.”

“I’m not. I’m standing in the fucking doorway because I thought this was Max his room,” you argue.

“Then why are you still here?”

“Because I wanted to apologize for storming in like this, but never mind that.”

“Save the fucking bullshit princess,” Lando sneers at you again. 

“Don’t,” you grunt. 

“Don’t do what?” Lando asks.

“Don’t call me that and stop acting like such a dick,” you sigh annoyed.

“It’s not an act princess, it’s just the way I fucking am,” Lando states.

“That doesn’t work for someone like you.”

“Someone like me? What the fuck do you mean with that?” Lando asks you angrily.

“Do you have to say fuck in every sentence?” You ask annoyed. 

Lando steps closer to you. He seems to be waiting for some sort of explanation. As if you know what you meant with your earlier sentence. You’re mad and aren’t thinking at the moment. You almost take a step back, but you stop yourself from doing so. You don’t want him to know that he’s intimidating you. He is intimidating you, you should be stepping backwards but instead you keep staring at him. You look at the frustrated glance in his eyes. 

“I meant someone like you who’s clearly an arrogant dick and doesn’t have anyone around him. It seems like everyone is done with you and your act. Nobody wants to be friends with someone who thinks he’s better then them. Maybe your dick attitude and your small dick make some girls happy, but we both know those girls are only with you for your name,” you improvise to annoy Lando further.

Lando lets out a low chuckle. “You think that I have a small dick?” He asks you. 

“That’s the part you remember?” You ask annoyed, “I though arrogant, no friends or girls who are using you would have more impact.” 

“I don’t have a small dick princess,” Lando states confidently. 

“Great to fucking know!” You reply annoyed, “Maybe you can start acting like it.” You don’t wait for another reply from Lando. “I just wanted to say sorry for entering the wrong room, but forget it. I’ll gladly leave you alone Lando.” 

With those words you turn away from Lando and are quick to walk towards the other door. Your brothers actual drivers room. You feel Lando his eyes burning on your body. When you’re in Max his drivers room, you’re still annoyed by Lando. How can someone be like that? You only tried to apologize. Lando is plain rude and incredibly annoying. What a dick. 

+++

“He’s the absolute worst,” Max sighs, “I have spend hours in that little office of Christian and Norris still won’t say sorry about anything! I even apologized for going a bit to wide on track, but he doesn’t say anything.” 

“How further?” You ask your brother, “I can’t imagine that the team is going to drop him. So you have to find some way to work together with him, right?”

“I don’t even want to think about that,” Max states.

You doubt about telling Max about your own encounter with Lando. It won’t be good for his already angry feelings towards Lando. But it would be nice to talk about it with him. After a bit of doubting you decide to tell Max a few things about it. Maybe you can leave the worst stuff behind. You know it isn’t the best plan to tell him, but you’re in the mood to vent about it. And who’s better to vent to then someone who also hates Lando? 

It doesn’t take long before Max is even more angry then before. You told him about your encounter with Lando, but you left behind some details. Like what you said exactly or what he said exactly. You just told Max what happened. 

“He’s the absolute worst,” Max tells you. 

You nod as a form of agreement. 

“I don’t like asking you things like this, but please stay away from him,” Max asks, “You can’t trust him and I know for sure that he’s already planning to use you to annoy me even more.” 

“I get it Max,” you say, “I’ll try to stay away from him.”

“Thanks,” Max sighs. He seems a bit more relaxed now. “I hope this doesn’t last too long, I’ll try to be friendly with him.” 

You slowly nod. “You do realize that if you become friendly with him, he’ll probably see me more also?” You ask Max.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Max says, “Just keep watching out around him. Don’t trust him. I have heard enough stories about girls who did trust him and that didn’t end nicely for everyone of them.”

“I’ll keep my distance,” you promise Max.

“Come on, let’s go out,” Max says suddenly, “I’m in the mood for some alcohol and fun after that awful race.”

You smile. Max doesn’t want to go out a lot, but you do always like it. You tell him enthusiastic that you’ll make yourself ready as fast as you can. You search in your suitcase for a cute outfit and are quick to find a nice dress. You put it on and look in the mirror for a bit. The dress is a bit on the short side, but it fits nicely. You like the way white looks on you. Quickly you continue to search for matching shoes and a bag. After that you redo your make up for a bit. It doesn’t take you too long before you’re ready to go. 

This is a great idea. Dancing and drinking will make the both of you forget about the frustrating day. Full with enthusiasm you walk with Max towards the taxi he called. 

part two

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris imagine #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #fem!verstappen

[neechees]

hello, thanks so much for doing your scam busting, is the account @/shtunning another palestine scam? i can't find the images used on google anywhere, but the lack of a gofundme makes me wary

This one is looking veeeery suspicious & is pretty much most certainly a scam for the dollowing reasons:

El-shab-hussein, a Palestinian who's been helping us with vetting real Palestinian fundraisers from scams, says that the ONLY confirmed Palestinian fundraisers who claim to be in Gaza are on this list, and that blog is not one of them

That blog already has me preemptively blocked 🤨 🚩 I've never interacted with this person in my life, and its a big red flag to have scam busters blocked

Their donation post was made YESTERDAY, and their archive is turned off 🚩we see scammers do this to hide how old their blog actually is (that it's new and suddenly asking for money) and to make it harder to investigate them

Their donation post reblogs and replies have been turned off 🚩scammers do this usually after someone has called them out on their suspicious behavior, often with proof that they're scamming, and they do it to hide the evidence and prevent anyone from seeing or reblogging this evidence against them

They're asking for donations, but do not provide a paypal or gofundme attached 🚩 scammers nowadays also often try to hide their paypal because they like to reuse one account across multiple scams, and used them enough for those accounts to be recognizable bc scam busters keep track of them. Additionally, you can tell someone's actual location by a paypal link, so scammers often are trying to hide any discrepancies in their fake story (like say, pretending to be in Europe but are actually in Canada). Laura Deramas & co have been doing this a lot, so I wouldn't be surprised if this was her

They claim that the photos they provide are of their family in Gaza, but there's literally a watermark of these photos originally being from the website Gazanow 🚩 why you would use a seperate website's photos of your family & then blur out your family's faces from the photo (even though it's already on a public website & that's where you got it?), instead of any photos that THEY themselves took, makes no sense to me, & is extremely suspicious.

They claim their "entire family" is in Gaza and that they've been working & supporting their family abroad (presumably allegedly in Europe since theyre asking for money in Euros) since 2016, and that they are 24 years old. So according to them, They've been the single sole supporter of their entire family in Gaza & moved to & have been living in Europe ALONE since the age of 16? Idk that kinda doesn't seem that plausible to me.

They've backdated their blog, and tried to use posts with thousands of notes to make it harder to find that out lol 🚩🚩🚩according to the screenshots below, they backdated their blog (& in particular, this post) to look like it reblogged a post on February 17th, 2024. But once I looked in the notes, I very quickly found it in the most recent notes that it was ACTUALLY reblogged YESTERDAY

[Image description: two vertically stacked screenshots with a blue water filter over them. The first shows a screenshots of a reblog by the user shtunning, showing a falsified reblog date of February 17th 2024. The second shows the real date within the notes of this post that they had reblogged, dated to "1 day ago", April 17th, 2024. End image description.]

And as another thing, they're claiming to be Palestinian, but using language an actual Palestinian who has lived in Palestine would never use lol, such as "revive peace between us". There was no "peace" in Gaza before this, Gaza is an open air prison under a settler colonial occupation and has been bombed regularly for decades?

So yeah this is definitely a scammer lol

#justin's scam list #scam #donation scam

[khaliarart]

👽We made an Irken font👽

Inspired by this post @gamebirb and I made an accurate font for canon Irken. You can download it here!

To decipher what letters it actually has we cross referenced the alphabet from the guide to Operation Impending Doom 2 with the Irken in the series and then translated the subtitles. Canon Irken has 40 letters, Caps A-T and lowercase a-t.

The lowercase “e” also was in the alphabet twice.

There are no U, V, W, X, Y or Z. The subtitles on the DVDs leave those letters out, guess that’s what Irken grammar looks like.

Final subtitles seem to be written in (mostly but not exclusively) caps, the animatic ones in mostly lowercase.

On-screen Irken is alphabets. There‘s no full Irken word on-screen in the show or the movie.

And there‘s one Irken word on the Foodcourtia Track on the Nicktoons Nitro game from 2008. It reads „Dooky“ in mirrored fanon Irken. @spacegoathours figured that one out :D Maybe the game studio googled “Irken font” and put in the fan made.

There also were some mystery letters in the Frycook episode. They’re rotated and skewed versions of actual letters.

Thanks @phyllidaluna and @noxeorn for providing show screencaps and the guide, and @gamebirb who made the font!

#invader zim #irken #iz #invader zim theory

[bakugoushotwife]

born sinner (part three; finale)

pairing: crime boss!suguru geto x fem!surgeon!reader series content: blood, gore, realistic descriptions of surgery but like as accurate as someone with access to google has, angst, slow-burn, smut, anxiety as a heavy theme, no curses!au, violence, guns, gang mentions and typical violence, religious imagery, etc. chapter content: smut!! oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetrative sex, doggy into some kinda reverse cowgirl almost you'll see ig, he spits on your pussy, he lightly slaps your thigh and ass once, rough sex, hair pulling, good aftercare. all other series warnings apply. wc: 9.5k a/n: here it is!! the last installment of crime boss! geto just in time for his birthday!! well, chapter length anyway. feel free to send in requests of slice of life for this series any time, and enjoy the conclusion :3 and just one last thank you to @antizenin for thinking up this concept, please go follow them and give em some love :)) part one // part two

bright lights never bothered you before–not like this. in the middle of those old nights when you got the call to come in, you welcomed the fluorescents to wake you up before you performed yet another life-saving surgery and went to sleep in an on-call room for a few hours before you had to do it all over again. once upon a time, you were addicted to these moments, living and breathing for the riveting rush that only surgery could give you. but now, in the void of sound that is your personal hospital, you know it won’t be ambulance sirens that starts your adrenaline. you know it will be victims, one of them likely suguru—and you feel like you might be sick in the middle of the floor and the lights will only serve to highlight how out of your league you are. 

you hear the low rumble of voices, the hisses of pain and groans of confusion coming from the hallway linking your sector to suguru’s house. it sounds bad–multiple different voices complaining about their injuries. you take a steadying breath, perhaps it was just a street fight—just a few stitches and busted knuckles to ice. knowing suguru, he was trying to work you up for no reason. 

the door busts open and your eyes widen, hopes crushed quickly. there’s blood puddling in the floor, red footprints tracking their way to the door. satoru is being dragged forward by suguru and choso, head rolling between his shoulders. he’s riddled with bullets, and he’s not the only one. the dark-haired driver seems to have a couple of bullet wounds himself and there’s a few more of suguru’s yakuza that have suffered the same fate. your heart pounds so loud that you can hear the blood rushing in your veins, and it’s not adrenaline that you feel in your veins: it’s white-hot dread. fear. panic. your body moves despite yourself. 

only when satoru is positioned on a gurney are you able to analyze suguru—his shirt soaked with blood you can’t determine is his own or not. his shirt is ripped, face cut, blood dripping off his fingertips to contribute to the great vibrant red staining the floor. he’s injured, and you’re panicking–and these people could die, and who do you even start with?? you turn towards suguru, inclined to make sure he’s alright. your hands shake, you move towards him in slow, unsure steps, and he grabs one of your shaky palms—stopping you from tending to him. 

you know he can see right through you, knows that you’re bound to lock up in fear, yet he looks at you with a gentle grin—despite it all, forgetting the fact that he’s in pain and his men are grievously hurt. his thumb rakes over the back of your hand, nevermind the blood that streaks across your skin as he does so—his blood, decidedly. you can’t stop staring. at the blood on his hands–your hand, at the mass of injured people waiting for you to fix them—on the crimson puddles leading straight for you.

“hey—look at me,” his voice is stern, with a sense of understanding softness to it. it’s commanding, and your eyes stop surveying the injured and snap back to his face, his lip busted and a cut that definitely needs stitches. “you’re the best money can buy, that’s why you’re mine. just…block it out. breathe, one at a time. it’s a tall task, i know what i’m asking of you. work on satoru first, and trust yourself. we all panic, so show me why you were on the cover of academic magazines, ebi. i’ll tell you everything that happened while you work.” he offers, and you know that it must be an attempt to busy your mind—so you jump at the reprieve. he watches you slip into a different part of yourself, your brow furrowing—mind steeling as he commanded. you nod, gesturing for him to talk as your turn for satoru, popping the buttons on his shirt and cussing at the damage. 

“hey boss-man, we got him!” satoru beams, dropping a manilla file on suguru’s dark cherry desk. suguru cuts his eyes over to him, rather bored looking with his elbow propped on the table and his head leaned against his hand. he’s hesitant to perk up at satoru’s words, not wanting to get his hopes up for a lead on toji without good reason. the first trails had gone cold before he had really even had the chance to look into them; all second-hand accounts of a guy that knows a guy that had absolutely nothing to contribute other than wasting their time. “go on, open it!” 

satoru sounds so perky suguru is inclined to follow his orders for once. gojo wouldn’t look so excited if this wasn’t something good. so he pops the tab and reaches in, sliding a bundle of papers out. some are print-outs of surveillance cameras—toji’s unmistakable presence captured with sukuna—his men had gotten a hold of something concrete finally. included with those were text messages, meeting arrangements for the one who stabbed him in the back—no, shot him in the chest. they were getting a delivery tonight. this is what nanami risked his life for, and suguru was intent on making it worth it. 

“we’ll move tonight then. we have a delivery of our own to make.” he claps the file against satoru’s chest, a nonchalant smile closing his eyes as he gets to his feet. revenge. it was so near. he needed to make arrangements for this quickly, there was only a few hours to go before the meeting would go down and he needed to decide who would station where and how many weapons and cases of ammo they would need.

he thinks about you as he walks to his armory. he had practically tucked you in and promised to make up for his temperament later in the week. he sighed aloud, the heels of his boots clicking down his marble walkway. the walls were barren outside of the tapestry that hung along one of them. it’s a long hallway with a hidden door to the left side of it. it leads to his armory—walls decorated with guns, flash grenades, smoke bombs and more. he just needed to make sure that this went well, as minimal casualties as possible so you could sleep through the night undisturbed. he can seek his revenge and keep you out of it. so he can keep his promise to you. 

so he starts pulling guns off their mounts and calling his best men to get the cars ready. 

a few hours later, suguru and his top seven guys stood at the back entrance of ryomen sukuna’s estate, holding their delivery driver hostage as they wait on toji to surface for it. it was just a crate of weapons, but enough of a hassle for someone high on the food chain to come for it. apparently being a rat helps you climb the ranks. he doesn’t come out alone—several men flanking him as he takes a look around. 

he’s smirking, like he knew that something was lurking in the shadows without even having to look too hard. he folds his arms and scratches his head with the barrel of his gun, whistling. “i can smell ya, mangy little kid. what, you wanna talk about my betrayal?” he rolls his eyes. suguru steps forward, but so do satoru, choso, kusakabe, hakari, yuuta, todo, and inumaki—all of his top performers, minus the injured nanami.  

“no, no. you’ve taught me that there comes a time where the talking must cease. i just want your ashes in an urn for my office.” he hums, hands in his pockets. the tension runs high, suguru’s feline smirk making everyone on the opposing side antsy. he takes a step forward, and one of toji’s men preemptively shoots—triggering the chain of events. 

that’s where things get fuzzy. he remembers ducking behind the car and peaking around to get a few shots off. suguru couldn’t care less about the extra men—sukuna’s men–that was a battle for another time. he just wants toji. he wants to show him the monster he’s created. suguru doesn’t thrive on negativity—feels like it’s a curse, even, but he will not tolerate disrespect and betrayal. he will not give toji the chance to plan another attack. not now, when he has so much to lose. 

and when satoru’s body falls down beside him, all he can think about is the injuries he sustained, the ones that nanami endured—all of the wounds his other men would get tonight; the nearly lethal suffering he weathered–you, who would have to repair all that was broken tonight despite his oath to you. he rolls the opposite way than he had been peaking, coming around and letting his gun do any talking. he takes down two of the regular guards, opening up his shot on toji. suguru nearly laughs; it’s so easy. he expected to mourn a little, to hesitate. to feel his morality tug at him or even hear that angelic voice he’s long concluded to be yours telling him to stop. 

but his brain is clear, heart at peace. he can feel the cool wind whispering against his cheek, advocating for justice. seeing the carnage makes things so clear, his best friend bleeding out at his feet. he wonders briefly if you felt this calm when you stumbled over him all those nights ago. he pulls the trigger, there’s a loud bang! and slight jump of the barrel, smoke wafting into the night air—then the loud crumpling sound of toji’s body hitting the ground. 

and then there is silence. 

you’re pulling bullets out of satoru’s arm and side while suguru recounts the events to you, mind operating on nothing but your knowledgeable instinct. you thought he may be distracting like he was when you operated earlier in the day, but his voice is surprisingly even and soft and drowns out any grunts of pain from the others you hadn’t yet seen. satoru was easily the worst of them—but you moved efficiently to patch him up, gleeful that none of the bullets had hit major arteries and that he would be fine in a few weeks. 

you administer morphine to everyone, thankful beyond belief that all your x-rays and ct scans proved that everyone in this rival gang were horrible shooters; all your patients would make it without any real surgery required. just a lot of pain medicine and stitches—and you would consider that a good day. should any of them have needed to be opened up, you would have had to pick and prioritize them, or have suguru do it for you. no, you’re very thankful for a mess of gauze and blood on the floor, happy to hang bags of fluids and let them talk over their victory with each other. 

once his men were patched up, suguru finally let you tend to him. he unfastens the buttons on his shirt for you, “this one’s expensive. i don’t want you ruining it.” he jokes, seemingly content despite the situation and how grave it really could have been. you wonder if taking care of his enemy is the sole reason why. 

“ha, ha. i’m here to save lives, not designer shirts.” you raise a brow to chastise almost, but the grin playing on your lips betrays you. though it quickly drops when you see he’s been shot three times. he seemed to omit the part where those two men he shot, shot back. 

you suck in a breath of air and look up at him, the wounds on his chest that were nearly healed looked red and angry—due to the fact his body was already weakened from them and had just acquired three more. two of them had clear exit wounds in his abdomen and just required your cleaning and dressing of them. the one closest to his heart was a shallow wound, the bullet lodged just beneath his skin. you can’t help but feel fear. what if one of these bullets caused your grafts to rupture? what if–even if he doesn’t think it’s fatal, it is? so you insist on an echo and a ct after you’ve pulled the last bullet fragment from his olive-tinted scarred skin. 

“you need tests. i need to make sure your heart still looks good—you really need to take it easy, suguru. you’re not invincible.” you say as you place the electrodes on his skin. his deep laceration was perfectly stitched so it may not even leave a scar–and you know he can’t grin at you the way he wants due to how tight the threads pull at his cheek. 

“i’m a yakuza boss, little isha. i can’t exactly take it easy.” he leans back on his arms to allow you closer to his chest–the broad expanse of toned muscle and rough terrain. your slender fingers press the stickers in the places only you would know to put them, watching the machine read his heart beat while you take his blood pressure. you take a breath of relief when the numbers look perfect. 

“come on, one ct scan just to help me sleep tonight.” you raise your brow expectantly and pull the probes from his chest, feeling his ochre eyes stare into your face as you work. 

“of course. anything for you.” he purrs, sliding off the gurney and following you to the adjacent room to do the scans for your anxious mind. 

“anything, hm? you said toji shot you. is that what happened when i found you?” you ask, guiding him to lay down for the machine. 

“you’re relentless, ebi. and you tell me i don’t know when to quit.” he chuckles, earning him a glare from you as you try to run the scan. you’re quiet while it’s running, eyeing the results as they populate on your desktop. 

“you said you’d tell me everything and thennnnn you said you’d do anything for me. one simple request. i just want to know what you went through that night.” you hum so sweetly he knows he won’t be able to deny you any longer. 

“yes, fine, brat.” he shakes his head, sitting up on the hospital bed to face you. despite his seeming annoyance, his lips are turned up in a grin. he looks over your face, adorned with the excitement that he has finally given in to you no doubt. you lean forward, hip bumping against the side of his metal gurney. 

“that night, i was betrayed. my mentor–toji fushiguro. he was like a father to me, and satoru. he taught me the ropes of being a yakuza boss. most of everything i know came from him. i was meant to meet with the head of our rivals, toji organized the entire thing,” he reflects on this with so much pain in his eyes—you understand why he had brushed off the retelling for as long as he could. it’s clear he didn’t want to think about it. but maybe since the saga is over, he feels free enough to indulge you in it. “on our way there, sukuna’s men flipped my car. i crawled out of the wreckage and toji…shot me in the chest to finish the job.” he looks down at his marred flesh, littered in the scars from that day. 

“how did you make it to that alley?” you ask, hanging on his every word. he was incredibly resourceful and resilient—and that can’t be entirely taught.  

“dragged myself. there were patrons in that bar that owed me. if i could have made it inside, i knew someone would have gotten a hold of satoru, at least. i left him home because he’s a loud mouth and would ruin the meeting—but it was a mistake. satoru knew. he smelled toji’s betrayal, and i dismissed it. my bad judgment nearly cost me my life.” he focuses on a crack in the tile flooring next to your feet. you notice the brokenness that flickers in his eyes as he stares at that point on the ground–a proverbial crack in the foundation. you interrupt those drowning thoughts of his own self-criticism by putting your hand on his shoulder, you remember your own cracks and how they’ve been mended since. 

“it seems like you have pretty good judgment. no one can be right one hundred percent of the time. i had to learn that early on, even with the science and miracles of surgery. everything seems under control, don’t underestimate yourself. you have it all put together.” you encourage, thumbing over the edge of his collarbone. his skin is so warm and tan despite how often you see him inside. he looks at you as if he’s surprised by your touch, but makes no move to evade it. after a moment of staring, he chuckles, and you look away—though you can feel his eyes trained on you like always. 

“no, isha. i may look orchestrated, but i’m falling apart.” he sighs out, a hint of that pain darkening the golden brown autumn eyes he looks at you with. you can’t repress the intrusive instinct to trace the thick scar left by toji’s betrayal—by your skilled sutures. you shake your head at his words.

“when i found you, you were falling apart. now you’re putting it back together. it’s a process.” you say, voice falling to a whisper as you realize just how close you are to him. you’re standing between his legs, your knees buckling slightly as his rest against your thighs. you have to conjure every ounce of your courage to lift your gaze to his notorious bedroom stare, ochre pools sending a tingle down your spine. you bite your bottom lip and his vulturous gaze flickers down to watch the way your white teeth dug into the plush color of your lip, the flesh swelling a bit from the pressure. he puts his hand on your hip, so gentle by manner of touch but so rough by feeling. his fingers are long enough to rest atop the supple fat of your ass, and you can feel electricity thicken in the room like the moments before a loud thunderstorm. you don’t know who leaned in first, but your lips meet—and lightning strikes. you feel his fingers curling into your clothes, your very bones. his lips move fluidly against yours, his head turning to mesh with your slow movements. your brain is fuzzy, his other hand reaching for the dip of your waist to pull you into his lap—except he grunts in pain from the contact, and you pull away with the sudden clarity that he is hurt and you are his doctor—as well as everyone else’s in this hospital. 

you can feel the heat in your cheeks as you look out of the machine room to see if anyone saw the two of you. he just admires you with amusement, that you’re concerned you overstepped despite how obviously he feels for you. 

“we should get back out there, your friends probably want to see you…” you smile, but all he can see is your kiss-swollen lips. he smirks, nodding and rising to his full height before following you into the main wing. 

the two of you don’t discuss the kiss, nor the obvious shift in your relationship. suguru calls you more often, invites you out to accompany him for walks around tokyo, takes you for fancy dinners. there’s been no official labels, no indication that this is his version of dating. you almost wonder if he’s toying with you since he knows you hold some sort of attraction to him after you basically threw yourself at him when he was injured. 

on the surgical front, things have been quiet. since that night, there’s been no retaliation. even you know better than to think it will stay that way. suguru, of course, is expecting their attempt at revenge any moment now—hence why you haven’t been to his estate in weeks. he doesn’t want you caught in the crossfire, but he’s not prepared to give up his time with you. that explains all the long video calls and expensive dates, if you can go so far as to call them that. you enjoy his focused attention, but can’t deny that you miss all the time you used to spend together. 

thankfully, today’s call is different. “hello, little isha. would you like to be my date for the upcoming annual charity gala?” he asks, the smirk clear in his tone. you like to give him a hard time, especially when you’re feeling neglected, he’s noticed–so your scoff doesn’t surprise him. 

“do i really have a choice in this?” you grin, and he wishes he were there to see your features brighten. 

“mm, no.” he chuckles, but you know he’s just placating you. 

“i don’t have anything to wear, when is it?” you huff, trying to disguise your excitement to go to an event with him. it speaks to how highly he regards you–and a hard launch tells you that he’s ready to make this real. 

“don’t worry ebi. satoru will be there in twenty minutes or so, i’ve taken care of it all. do your hair and makeup however you’d like, i’ll be ruining it all anyway.” he says so casually you don’t even catch it at first, only the fact the gala was today and you needed to get ready as soon as possible. 

“wait—you’re asking me to this today?!” you exclaim, panic setting in. you need to take a full shower in twenty minutes and trust that he picked something decent for you to wear. 

the phone line goes dead in response. you groan and slam it on your bed, sprinting for your shower. a charity gala? it must be a hot-shot event. maybe he didn’t tell you in advance because he didn’t want you to freak out over the people you’d be rubbing elbows with. you’ve learned to trust him wholeheartedly, but that doesn’t mean you’ve stopped wondering what he’s up to. did he say he was going to ruin your makeup?!

satoru is sitting next to a garment bag positioned on your bed when you get out of the shower. you didn’t leave your door unlocked—

“you broke into my house?” you gape at him, still wrapped in a towel. he’s unashamed, long legs stretched in front of him with one one ankle folded over the other. he just shrugs, keeping eye contact with you over his dark shades. 

“hey, he told you i’d be here in twenty, not my fault you took fourty-five! don’t worry—i’m not looking.” he smiles wolfishly, seemingly enjoying getting a rise out of you despite all you’ve done for him. you know he’s harmless—to you anyways. he juts his chin toward the bag and shoe box next to him. “hurry up—you got a lot of work to do woman.” he snickers, eyeing your soaking wet hair. you narrow your eyes at him and step back into the bathroom to dry your hair and put on a robe. something tells you suguru would not love the idea of satoru watching you in your towel, harmless or not. you style your hair in your favorite formal style, waiting to do your makeup until you saw the dress suguru selected. 

you step back out into your room, rolling your eyes as satoru fakes loud snores to convey his boredom. you ignore him to the best of your ability, unzipping the black plastic to reveal an even darker black dress. it’s a long formal gown with a slit up the side, the obsidian satin was adorned with shining glitter and a diving neckline. it’s gorgeous, and will look stunning on you. you nearly flush as you run your fingers along the smooth skirt, shaking your head at the lengths he would go to at times. you go for the shoe box next, pushing off the lid to reveal a matching black heel with red bottoms. you gasp—and satoru snickers. he knows how suguru is, and this was just the tip of the iceberg. you pick the shoe up, analyzing the sleek and expensive heel. you are going to tear suguru a new one when you see him. 

the setting sun sends one of her last few rays of light through your high windows, catching on the things left in the shoe box. a gleam catches your eye—something shiny and bright. you move the other shoe aside to find a necklace and matching earrings—gold with diamonds. no doubt all real. this time you have to look at satoru. 

“is he serious?” you hold up the jewels, satoru’s wide grin telling you yes, he is in fact serious. he wants you to look like his woman. because you are. 

“yeah. hurry up and get ready, we’re gonna be late if you keep gawking at them instead of putting ‘em on.” he rolls his eyes, but truth be told he finds this little love story quite adorable. suguru deserves it, and he just hopes you can fulfill this role without letting them all down. “look. suguru likes you a lot. please. don’t…end up on our kill list.”

you meet his eyes, remembering that gojo raised the alarms on toji and stood by suguru’s side more loyal than anyone. you just smile at him, nodding. even saving his life wasn’t a good enough excuse to let his guard down, and you were happy that suguru had him around. “you’re a great friend, satoru. i won’t disappoint you.” you promise, gathering the dress and accessories up and slipping back into the bathroom to complete your look. 

suguru is waiting for you when satoru pulls the car into the valet parking section outside of the event. he looks handsome—you’re convinced it’s effortless for him at this point. he wears a black tuxedo, complete with a matte black undershirt and a sleek black weapon tucked under his suit jacket. he tied all of his hair back for once, though his bangs and a few stubborn tendrils  frame his sharp featured face. he runs a hand through what he can as you step out. 

his eyes feast on you, starting at your slim ankles all prettily strapped into the shoes he picked out for you. then his eyes move up to your thick thighs and wide hips spreading under the dark silky fabric. the dips of your waist, the bulge of your breasts. he doesn’t know if this is a good idea anymore. taking you out looking like this was a sure way to cause trouble. your makeup was done subtle and stylish, your hair perfectly complimentary to all your best features. all he can do is shake his head and bite his lip like you had done the night you kissed. 

satoru gives the keys off to the valet driver and snorts at a speechless suguru. but he goes ahead inside to case the situation for his boss anyway—and to give him some time alone with you. maybe he’ll get a few words in eventually. 

“you’re breathtaking, my ebi girl.” he smiles, there’s no turning back from this now. “this event isn’t ready for you. there will be dangerous people inside, all of us camouflaging as successful and wealthy businessmen, not yakuza. don’t speak unless someone speaks to you. don’t leave my side, and don’t look anyone in the eye. i’ll keep you safe.” he promises, pulling you into his side. 

everyone in here was likely knee deep in illegal shit. you know suguru isn’t trying to scare you, he’s just trying to be honest with you; to include you in his life. so you obey his every order, clutching your glass of wine and letting the popular geto-sama lead you around to intermingle with other small clan heads and arms dealers, families of his workers and even some of his rivals. the cloak of public showings make it easy enough to blend in and not worry so much about physical retaliations here. 

suguru keeps his arm around your waist, getting handsier as the night goes on. you wonder if it’s just for show, to display you like his property just to keep other people away. his fingers toy with the slit on your dress, sliding his fingerprints over your thighs, calluses brushing smooth skin. whether this is just to parade around his successes or not, you’re melting into his touch anyway. 

“would you like to dance with me, darling?” he asks, his voice a deep timbre in your ear. the breath of his whisper ruffles your hair and sends goosebumps down your neck. you nod hastily, earning a chuckle that only makes that pool of liquid fire in your gut ripple with desire. suguru’s always intrigued you, tripped you up—but the way he can’t keep his hands off of you has you squirming for a different kind of dance as he leads you towards the ballroom floor. 

“ahhh there’s my little basket case. you remember me, don’t you doctor?” a deep voice booms ahead of you, catching your attention. suguru’s arm becomes a vise on your waist. you look away from him to see a familiar looking man. he was big and bulky like suguru, dark face tattoos with vermillion eyes. his hair was a pale pink—and you remember him. 

“you know sukuna?” suguru looks at you, absolutely betrayed. you furrow your brows—it wasn’t like that. you had to make sure he knows that, that you never lied to him. you just simply didn’t know that man you met was sukuna, the man that’s causing a majority of these issues for the man you’ve fallen for. 

“no—not like that—he bought me drinks that night at the bar.” you say quickly–pleadingly, and he matches that up to the story you told him. it makes enough sense that sukuna would celebrate his “victory” in a bar nearby as well—and the worry in your eyes claws at his heart. he knows you’re honest, knows you would have given yourself away at any mention of sukuna’s name if you truly were some half-spy of his. you are a lot of things, but an actress you were not. 

“bought drinks, became your shoulder to cry on, and then you disappeared. how sad to see where you went. finders keepers i guess—though, i have found you now!” he chortles, eyes lingering over your frame. his smile grows even wider at the way suguru holds you, fingers digging into your sides, trying to pull you behind him. 

“i don’t care where we are, sukuna. i will turn you into rat food if you come near her again.” he says, a vein popping out along his temple. his voice is threatening, terrifying even if you didn’t trust him like you do. he took your word at face value, even though he’s been burned before. his trust means more than anything. 

sukuna scoffs. “that enamored with the little surgeon huh? maybe i’ll give her plenty of surgeries to show my affections.” 

geto snarls, putting an arm across  you to keep you from following. “try me. i’ll give her your head to show her mine.” he pushes the side of his jacket aside to show the cute little 9mm he had stuffed away. your back straightens at the prospect of violence, but you fight the urge to interrupt. these were already warring gangs, you couldn’t undermine geto’s authority. 

sukuna just looks down, smirking at the threat and mockingly putting his hands up in surrender. the smirk doesn’t die down, only spreads wider until he’s the image of the cheshire cat. “we’ll tango later…dance with my little surgeon until i get her back.” he winks at you, causing even you to scowl his way. choso watches him go, looking ready to pounce as soon as suguru utters the command. but satoru’s the one to smile and encourage both choso and suguru to settle down lest everyone start asking questions. if satoru didn’t know how possessive suguru already was—if sukuna hadn’t already played into those insecurities, he’d offer to dance with you. instead, he just nudges suguru’s back once the music swings into a melodic jazzy swing. 

he turns to you, his muscles still rigid with rage. you can tell by the stiff way he holds your other intertwined hands out, that same tight grip on your waist remaining. his jaw feathers, and your heart pangs with concern. you know you two aren’t anything official, but he had to know how you felt, right? after all these months spent learning about one another—he’s your sole friend. he’s given you a chance to feel your purpose, to practice your craft and save lives. lives of men that were funny like satoru, kind men like choso and nanami, young men with lives to live and families to go home to. you would never walk away from him. not for fear, not for money, not for anything. so you clench his hand back and push him into stepping with you to the music. 

“suguru,” you breathe out, his darkened honey gaze bores into your soul anyway, making you breathless beyond that. you just meet his eyes with your soft adoration, pulling and pushing him into the dance moves as he tries to calm down, “he’s trying to get in your head. don’t let him.” 

“he wants you,” he replies instead, shaking his head a little–the image of an angry bull. you swear if you look hard enough, you could see smoke circles forming from his exhales, “i won’t let that happen. you’re mine.” he rasps, finally stepping and moving into you on his own. 

“i don’t remember you asking,” you smirk, knowing it may not exactly be the right time to provoke him–but it seems like your taunting doesn’t affect him. you’ve known it since you shared that kiss, and probably even before then. you’re his, and he is yours. 

“good thing i picked the perfect dress to take off of you tonight to prove it, then.” he muses, eyes dancing over your body. it nearly fills him with rage again–that sukuna got to see you looking this fucking good. it’s meant only for him. his hands wander to your hips, pulling you into his. your hands brace on his chest, pretty little bedroom eyes just pleading for him to get you out of here. 

“if i let you,” you chirp oh so cheekily he can’t wait until the party is over. he smirks at your words, eyeing your fidgety hands on his collared shirt. you know it’s inappropriate, you know there’s other people wondering why the two of you touch each other like you’ll never get the chance to again. but the usual shame or panic isn’t there to cloud your thoughts. you just burn with the sweltering need for him, and you know this is as clear as your mind has ever been. 

geto motions for gojo to lean in. “have choso bring the car. we’re heading home early.” he orders, never once looking away from you. you feel naked already from the way he devours you, and you can’t bring yourself to pretend you don’t love it. satoru smirks, but nods and goes to pass along the message as commanded. 

“i want you to remember your bold attitude here,” he says, only amusement lacing his tone. he’s bred a million plans for you in his head already, and waiting for the car is only making him more creative. “you’ll be too brainless to do it later, ebi.” he promises, threading his fingers in yours and pulling you towards the exit. 

you feel pretty brainless already, if you’re honest with yourself. it’s like it floated right out of your head the moment he looked at you like a predator eyes his prey. but you comply easily as if obeying him was written in your very dna. 

he prides himself on his restraint to not take you in the car—rationalizing that your first time together needs to be special. he needs to have the room to do what he needs to do to you. there will be time in the future for nasty sex in the car, if tonight goes right. 

you think you should be rewarded for your patience as well, thighs clamped together to avoid rubbing them together the entire ride back to his estate. it’s even worse as he tries to look composed, thanking choso for driving the two of you back home—politely asking that his men entertain themselves elsewhere for the evening, suggesting the business house in the inner city. choso gives him an awkward nod, clearly pretending not to notice the obscene way suguru grabs your ass as you walk into his house. you only giggle as the door closes behind him, but your laughter is cut short when he knits his fingers in the hair above your neck, pulling your head back gently enough. you gasp meekly and it just makes the predator in him purr. 

“you have any limits, ebi?” he raises a brow, his other hand coming to caress your face, thick thumb swiping over your bottom lip. you swallow, feeling every nerve in your body spark against his touch. you shake your head no–maybe foolishly, maybe you’ll regret it, but you don’t want him to hold back. you want to feel the full force of his desire too. 

“good,” he approves, hungrily kissing you. his injuries have fully healed, range of motion fully intact. no grunts of pain or ache in his muscles could keep him from claiming you now. you feel him consume you, his hand curls in your hair to maintain full control. the tips of your fingers tingle as your grab onto his broad shoulders, fully trusting him with the weight of your body. his lips are slightly chapped, scraping your soft ones and making your stomach do backflips. he pulls away after nearly a minute, letting you heave a breath into your lungs as he nips down your jaw, laving his tongue over every hurt. each one sends a pulse of power through your body, making two heartbeats as your core aches for him. his thumb and forefinger grip your chin and turn your face away so his lips and teeth and tongue can find the sweet spot on your neck—and it doesn’t take him long. you’re squealing out his name as he sucks marks into your precious neck, not caring how badly it bruises. he hopes it does—wants everyone to be very clear on the fact you belong to him. your hands slip to his chest, shoving at his jacket. he pulls away long enough to let it fall off his arms, collecting in a heap on the floor. he also unstraps his weapon and discards it on the table, pulling you back into him as soon as he’s done. 

“jump,” he orders, those wondrous hands scooping at your thighs once you do just that. you wrap your arms around his neck, admiring how beautiful he is this close. sharp and angular features that somehow maintained a subtle softness, full lips and eyes as warm as an early autumn afternoon despite how dark and cloudy they are when they look at you. he’s perfect, and you can’t keep yourself from kissing him again as he walks with you. he blindly follows the curves of his hallways, your heels falling off from all the movement. your lips move desperately, trying to tell him all the things you’ll eventually work up the nerve to say—and he can feel it. he can feel how much you want him, how long you’ve felt this way. he’s got you against the door of his bedroom, hiking your dress up to expose the pretty matching black thong you put on all on your own. he smirks devilishly. “cute little thing—planning to get fucked this whole time?” he raises a brow and you only answer with a smile and weak nod. 

he just growls in return, diving back towards you to nip and lick over your collarbone, grinding his growing bulge against the thinly veiled layer over your cunt. you clench around nothing, letting out a needy whine at his teasing. “suguru—”

“i know, poor girl,” he chuckles against your skin, trailing his kisses to the swells of your breast that your dress so provocatively revealed for him. he slips the thin spaghetti straps down your shoulders, using the slack to yank the chest of the gown down entirely, exposing your tits to the warm summer air. “i’ve got just what you need, don’t worry,” he groans, thumbing over the pebbled buds with lust blown pupils. you wiggle against the door, desperate for every flick to your nipple, every swipe of his clothed cock over your soaked panties. he leans down to kiss your sensitive chest, kneading the other. just the angle of his hips kept you pinned against the door, lips suckling on your pert nipple. you knew from the look that formed next that he was only sympathetic to you for the way he’d be satisfying your needs–and his own. everything happens so quickly. your tits jiggle as you land on your back, plush bed swallowing you up as he uses your ankles to drag you to the edge–just to show how easy it is for a man his size to manhandle you. 

he had a violent need to claim you—almost blinding now that sukuna had challenged him for you. he had to fuck all those thoughts away, couldn’t risk you even wondering what life with anyone other than him was like. your thong is tucked into the pocket of his dress pants, thighs spread and pinned by his warm and rough palms. your legs dangle over the edge of the bed and his shoulders, cunt glistening and on display for him. your inner thighs are coated with the same slick, and he smirks at how he was able to make you drool like this with hardly any work. his fingers swipe at your lips, dipping inside your little entrance to collect some of the sweet arousal. you gasp at the sensation of his fat fingers—two at once. he pumps them once, twice, before he leaves you empty again. you nearly whine, hearing him slurp the juice off of his fingers. it’s so lewd you can’t help but writhe for his touch, earning a groan in return. you’re like heaven to a man like him, the sweet honey in between your legs has him leaning in for a fresher taste, licking a thick stripe over your entire cunt with his flattened tongue. he groans again, shaking his head. you’re irresistible. he can’t believe how cute you sound as he plays with you, your little whines of disappointment make his cock throb. he leans up, the thumb of his other hand pulling back your hood so he could spit on your swollen clit, so needy for his attention. you gasp loud, legs trying to close as he sets into rubbing fast, torturous circles over your bundle. he slaps the inside of your thigh. 

“none of that, little girl. daddy’s trying to make you feel good.” he chuckles, inserting his still-wet digits into your puckered hole yet again. you gasp at the light slap—your back arching completely as he finger fucks you, watching you open and close your mouth as you try to cope with the intense pleasure coursing through your blood. it’s unfathomable. you pull at your own hair, toy with your own chest, grinding your hips down for an even greater high. he knows it won’t take you long—and that’s even better. he’s one step closer to fitting you around his cock–shaping you into his perfect pussy. but he needed to watch you cum, needed you to coat his tongue, needed every piece of you to be his. your sounds, your faces, your body—your mind. he needed it more than air. 

his fingers curl into the spongy spot inside of you, his thumb matching pace on your clit. you feel like you’re flying—like the sun above you warms your entire body as his fingers make quick work of you. in just a few minutes, you’re moaning loud and cumming on his thick digits. 

he lets no time pass, leaning in face-first to smother himself in your taste. you jerk with sensitivity–but when you reflexively try to close your legs this time, he doesn’t stop you. he welcomes the warm crushing force of your thighs against his ears as he laps at your core. if he thought your wetness was sweet, your cum is pure nectar. he’ll never tire of this, kneeling before the bed he will share with you and feasting on your gorgeous cunt—everything that led him here, to this moment, it was worth it and he would do it a million times over if it ended this way every time, arms looped around your legs to hug them even closer.

his tongue is just as fat as his fingers, forcing you to moan out as he breaches your hole for a second time. he just wants to savor every drop, taking his precious time milking your pleasure. your chanting and whining only makes his tongue slower, dragging against your insides before he finally moves it to flick your sensitive clit. you nearly scream out, having begged for his attention until he sucked your bundle into his mouth and scraped his teeth against it, brown eyes tracking every scrunch of your nose and eye roll of pleasure.

it feels like someone is pulling you apart from the inside and cumming in his mouth is the only way to fix it. you finally reach for a fistful of his black locks, yanking on his hair tie until it snaps and hair falls around him like a halo. you snap too, body shivering into him as he sensually eats at you. he relishes your little squeals and whines of overstimulation, chuckling into your pussy when you try to shove his head away. your chest is heaving, your eyes glossy in a blissful daze, lips glossy and swollen from how you’ve been gnawing at them. oh he has to absolutely ruin you. 

“so sweet, i got carried away…” he muses, pushing you to your side with a gentle pressure on your thigh. you catch his hint even in your brainless state, turning fully to your knees–balancing on wobbly arms as you throw your ass in the air for him, baring that sensitive cunt to the air and his animalistic stare. “you are mine, i hope you know that by now ebi.” 

he spreads your ass cheeks, watching himself guide his fat mushroom tip to your hole, twinkling with amusement at the way you clench down before he’s even impaled you with his wide shaft and leaky tan tip. he wonders if he should be careful, inching into you slowly to draw out your anticipation—and maybe there will be time for that later, for now, plunging his cock balls deep wins out. he wants to hear that nasty high pitched moan you cry out with, needs to feel your pretty pink pussy choke down on him at the sudden impact, needs to see his nuts slap against your ass with the pace he sets. he’s only satisfied when he sees you reaching out for the sheets in front of you, desperately trying to ground yourself to reality and escape his brutal pounding. 

the room gets hotter, heavy breaths and lewd moans are the language of love between the two of you—the rough smack of his pelvis and balls fit in the mix as a melody. he reaches forward, making handles of your hips to keep you from subconsciously crawling away. “tell me doctor, is that your cervix i feel stopping me?” 

you couldn’t answer, the connections between your brain and mouth butchered and his cock was the cleaver. he’s so big, so wide that you can feel him in your throat, every added touch to your body was just kindling for the fire. he has no mercy, thrusting into you like he was trying to get inside your womb. your skin is nothing but goosebumps, the way he caresses your insides have your arms fully giving up. you flop onto your face, his large palm sliding up your back and into your hair like before. it holds you steady, his other hand gripping your hip for leverage. your moans turn broken, his grunts of pleasure like music to your ears. 

“can’t answer?” he hums, eyes flickering over the mess that he’s made of you, the puddle you’re becoming in his sheets. he’s dreamed of this for months, since he’s met you perhaps if he’s entirely honest with himself. your sounds go from whines and moans to crying and screaming, legs starting to shake too. you’re already so sensitive, having experienced his mouth and fingers already. you don’t even have control of your body anymore, shaking your head as you hurdle to the finish line—especially as he slaps your ass just to see his handprint blister in your skin. “how precious. who’s my fucked out little girl?” 

“oh daddy—” you shiver, clamping down on him hard enough to tell him what was about to happen. he beams at your acceptance and use of the nickname, pulling your face out of the covers to hear you wail properly. in fact he balls up that grip and tugs your back to him—your body jelly enough to be compliant, only whines and sniffling in confusion. he never stops fucking your sex as your back meets his chest, his large hand snaking around to clutch your throat gently—more of a comfort than a threat. his other hand was the real danger, sliding around your hip to pinch and roll your abused pearl and send you sprawling over the finish line. you see stars at the position change, his punishing pace unfaltering. he wanted to see your gorgeous face, your makeup ruined as promised. lipstick smudged and mascara running down your cheeks—you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. he presses a kiss to your shoulder, and you finally release. you make him twitch inside you as your head falls back on his own shoulder.

it was a white hot sensation you can’t say that you’ve ever experienced before despite your previous sexual partners and your own pleasures. this was different, this was all-consuming bliss, much more than just a simple orgasm. he broke you down, read you like a book, and destroyed you just for him to rebuild. you feel like you shatter around his length, his pretty cock collecting your high as you cry and jerk and moan with heavy breaths. you didn’t think it could get better—but the sudden rush of warmth flooding your pussy makes you convulse a little again—earning a chuckle from the man that did this to you. 

he holds you up against him, the muscles of his body moving and flexing against your body. he fucks into a slower rut, still pushing his seed further so you had to keep it all. everyone would know who you belong to that way, that’s for sure. 

you can’t bring yourself to care, floating in the middle of a pleasure ocean. there’s no brain in your head to think with, only preoccupied with his warmth and strength keeping you supported while you catch your breath. you don’t even know if you have control over your own body, feeling akin to a slinky toy. he presses another kiss to your shoulder, his broad hand splayed over your stomach. “you take me so well, ebi,” he purrs, rubbing over your lower stomach, where all of his children sat. “rest now, isha girl. let me take care of everything else.” he assures, another kiss to your cheekbone, every touch so contrary to the roughness he handled you with before. it makes your eyes droop, the exhaustion claiming your muscles without you putting up any fight to stop it. 

suguru thinks you fell asleep before your head ever hit the pillow, but he wipes up any spillage and tucks you under the covers anyway. he gets a bottle of water just in case you wake up thirsty, the fleeting wonder of if he did too much crossing his mind. he just needed you to feel how desperately he feels for you. he has to make sure that this bed is the only one you’ll sleep in for the rest of your days. 

you’re still conscious, though only in the most basic way. you can feel his arms wrap around you, and a smile tugs on your lips as he peppers your face and neck with affectionate kisses even without knowing you could feel them. “i hear your voice in my head. or, heard, perhaps. but before i met you—there was a haunting female voice that pushed me to keep going. i’d never heard anything like it. you, it was you. you told me to keep fighting,” he says, his voice a deep baritoned whisper. you know he’s not much for romantic speeches, but here he is, pouring out his heart to you. “you sirened me into finding you. i’m not sure how you did that—but you saved me, ebi. in more ways than one. i’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know that. just stay here. don’t let anyone take you from me.” 

“after that i won’ be able to walk anywhere anyway.” you slur, a little giggle spilling out of your parted lips. his cheeks dust a light pink once he realizes that you heard all of that, but it only encourages him to nibble your ear and kiss your cheek with as much sweetness as he can muster. 

“go to sleep—or do you need more dick?” 

“hm, tempting–” you snicker and he grabs a handful of your ass from where you lay as the little spoon. you yelp and fall into a fit of giggles, putting an even broader smile on his face. his eyes only sparkle with amusement as you turn to him. “but i don think i can take it right now,” you coo, clearly drifting in subspace. you lean up to kiss his lips, short, but sweet. “you go to sleep too, mister mob man.” 

he does chuckle with that, shaking his head and running his fingers through your hair until light snores confirm that this time, you are asleep. 

morning light spills through the curtains, casting her spotlight on the two of you tangled up in one another in bed. your hair is a wreck—his isn’t faring much better—but you’ve never slept better. with his warm frame dwarfing yours, the rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peace that kept you unconscious until his phone started to ring. 

he groans out his annoyance, arms tightening around you for a moment as if he was just as devastated at the thought of moving as you are. but he is an important man, and knows more than likely that this is an important phone call. so he detangles himself from you and answers the phone with a raspy morning voice that has your heart beating in your pussy. 

‘woah—slow down, satoru. what happened?” his face turns into a hard slab of rage, eyes narrowing as he listens to what sounds like a frantic gojo. he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, heaving a deep breath. “i’ll be there in ten minutes.” his icy anger bites through enough that you don’t sit up to console him, but as he hangs up and turns to you, his eyes are soft and warm yet again. 

“duty calls?” you pout, cuddling into the covers to replace his missing warmth. he nods, leaning in to cup both of your cheeks in his hands. 

“yes, i’ve some business to take care of. i’ll be back in no time, trust me. the fact i have a beautiful woman naked in my bed will be a wonderful motivator.” he smiles softly, tilting your head back so he could place a loving kiss on your lips. “there’s water on the table if you get thirsty, darling.” he notes that look of concern in your eyes and pushes a stray lock of hair out of the way. the back of his knuckles brush over your cheekbone, and there’s a gentleness in his ochre gaze that puts you at ease. “don’t worry my isha. nothing can keep me from you now.” 

you nod, leaning in to give him another kiss just in case. your heart pounds with a new kind of anxiety as he slips from the sheets to get dressed, one that clutches at your heart in places it never did before. you can’t lose him. you don’t even know if you can handle seeing him hurt anymore. life has surely changed drastically from months ago—and now you get to trade in your nervous and self-deprecating anxiety for the kind of torturing worry that only having a yakuza lover can give. you’re no longer an anxious doctor—no, you’re the concerned girlfriend, waiting on suguru to return.

morning light spills through the curtains, casting her spotlight on the two of you tangled up in one another in bed. your hair is a wreck—his isn’t faring much better—but you’ve never slept better. with his warm frame dwarfing yours, the rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peace that kept you unconscious until his phone started to ring. 

he groans out his annoyance, arms tightening around you for a moment as if he was just as devastated at the thought of moving as you are. but he is an important man, and knows more than likely that this is an important phone call. so he detangles himself from you and answers the phone with a raspy morning voice that has your heart beating in your pussy. 

‘woah—slow down, satoru. what happened?” his face turns into a hard slab of rage, eyes narrowing as he listens to what sounds like a frantic gojo. he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, heaving a deep breath. “i’ll be there in ten minutes.” his icy anger bites through enough that you don’t sit up to console him, but as he hangs up and turns to you, his eyes are soft and warm yet again. 

“duty calls?” you pout, cuddling into the covers to replace his missing warmth. he nods, leaning in to cup both of your cheeks in his hands. 

“yes, i’ve some business to take care of. i’ll be back in no time, trust me. the fact i have a beautiful woman naked in my bed will be a wonderful motivator.” he smiles softly, tilting your head back so he could place a loving kiss on your lips. “there’s water on the table if you get thirsty, darling.” he notes that look of concern in your eyes and pushes a stray lock of hair out of the way. the back of his knuckles brush over your cheekbone, and there’s a gentleness in his ochre gaze that puts you at ease. “don’t worry my isha. nothing can keep me from you now.” 

you nod, leaning in to give him another kiss just in case. your heart pounds with a new kind of anxiety as he slips from the sheets to get dressed, one that clutches at your heart in places it never did before. you can’t lose him. you don’t even know if you can handle seeing him hurt anymore. life has surely changed drastically from months ago—and now you get to trade in your nervous and self-deprecating anxiety for the kind of torturing worry that only having a yakuza lover can give. you’re no longer an anxious doctor—no, you’re the concerned girlfriend, waiting on suguru to return.

tags: @justboredtingz @monikosman1311 @khaleesihavilliard @lagataprrr @shinylightsalad @userbananababes @shoutascoffeepot @kxchokxcho @diorsbrando @thecityofspareparts @lees-chaotic-brain @woozzz @spam-love (sorry to those that are not getting properly tagged :( )

#jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #born sinner #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru x reader #fem reader #female reader #suguru geto #jjk geto

[otomiyaa]

nice.png

(literally how I named the image, couldn't think of something else)

Hi guys :') To my followers and tumblr friends, I'm really sorry if my sudden disappearance scared or upset you. It wasn't quite... planned. And today was a busy day and I needed some time to consider what I wanted to do.

Short version of the story:

My tumblr account got terminated for copyright infringement. A certain Mr. Green got me in unlucky trouble (ref 1, 2).

I won't get it back, or try to get it back. It's gone.

Needed a moment to consider 2 options: ask Mia to extend my dramatic farewell letter and stay gone, or make a new blog.

Not planning to post new writing here. I won't be using words like 'never' or 'forever' because I'm a known clown with things like this, but the intention is to no longer post fics. I will finish Tickletober on AO3 and then take a break from writing. So yes, I cancel the swiftscribbles event too, sorry!

When I opened my laptop, I could see my old blog in its final hour lmao (I found out about the loss on my phone). So that's what the snap is from on a fitting grave. It was fun while it lasted!

Long version of the story:

Losing my blog(s): My Tumblr account with main blog + sideblogs got terminated overnight, it was quite the surprise! I've either been reported or tracked by bots. The posts are a bunch of numbered URLs I can't open, but the message is clear: for including anime content, genshin impact or media from other sources (whether it's videos, screenshots, official art, gifs or even fanwork) you technically can get a strike. Upon googling the claimer I quickly found this first, and knew it was a lost cause. Although it feels shitty and unlucky, I am in no place to appeal. It's like when I used to make AMVs in the past, you never knew whether a song or even anime footage was going to give your YT account a copyright strike or even a ban, it was a gamble. I have lost YT accounts before, and now I lost the Tumblr one. With 7+ years of tickle trash content and a bunch of sideblogs. But oh well, moving on!

Starting a new blog: It was a serious consideration whether this was my ultimate chance to do what I've always said I wanted to do eventually - quit my blog. My first thought was to ask Mia to share my explanation and literal goodbye with you guys, and stick to my chaos of a Twitter account to indulge in fandom stuff. But then I thought of how happy Tumblr made me, even without the fic writing, but just.. reblogging things, getting random asks, shouting about life and of course, about tickles. I decided to make a new blog after all, but also decided the following:

The 7K+ milestone swiftscribbles event is cancelled, for which I apologize! The follower milestone, together with the motivation to write the fics, and even the asks with the requests I got, all died with my former blog.

I will see how long I can survive without posting a new fic or drabble. A loose headcanon or two might fly around sometime. And if necessary, a link to a new fic on AO3.

Tickletober? Hell yes I'll finish it, I would cringe in bed for 49 days at least if I would stop. I just won't post the fics here, but on AO3.

Reposting/reblogging my old works? Undecided at the moment but I'm tired and lazy. I don't feel too upset since most of my fics are still on AO3 at least and not completely gone.

Anyways, I'll see what happens and how long I can enjoy this nerfed version of blogging.

Surprisingly I'm not upset about losing my other blog, there were a lot of memories but it was also very cringe. I'm gonna be just as cringe here, but at least I feel cleansed.

For those who choose to follow me again, thank you, but please know that there won't be much original content coming from me, for now!:)

#tickle community #otomiya-tickles #announcement

[moonsapprentice]

helllooooo !! you obviously don’t have to do this if you don’t want to do no pressure but i have autism + adhd and i was wondering if you could write headcanons for each of the boys x a reader with autism / adhd ( you dont have to do both you can just pick one if you want ^^; )

this was my first time requesting something so it was a little hard AHHH but if you do this tysm !! :) also thank you for trying to revive the tags bc this is a very big hyperfixation for me and it sucks to never see writing for it lol

Yess!! Omg ahhh this is my first ever request! I’d be happy to do it :)

⋆ ✶ ✷ 𝔐𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞 𝔰/𝔬 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔰𝔪/𝔞𝔡𝔥𝔡 ✷ ✶ ⋆

𝔈𝔡𝔡

✩ honestly he’s probably neurodivergent in some way himself

✩ definitely really understanding

✩ finds it adorable when you fidget, but also hates it when he’s drawing you and you keep moving 😭

“No, no, wait move back the way you were”

✩ SPEAKING of drawing, if you’re hyperfixating on something he’ll draw it for you

✩ he just wants to see you happy. 😞💚

✩ if you get overstimulated he’s probably the best out of the 4 to go to

✩ if it’s loud noises, he’ll help block it out by covering your ears, if it’s because a place is crowded he’ll keep you close to himself, etc

✩ helps you re-focus by nudging you lightly or saying your name quietly

✩ if you have a hyperfixation he 100% binges it so he knows everything about it

✩ lets you rant about anything with him

✩ if he’s out at the store and finds something relating to your fixation, he’ll show it to you all exited

✩ if you’re hyperactive, he tries to match your energy and be hyper with you

✩ however, if you need a moment of quiet to just recoup, he’ll be silent and wait until you’re ready

✩ if you’re having a panic attack or overstimulated he rubs your head and whispers comforting things. He’ll take you somewhere private until you’re okay

✩ if you like them, he’ll get you fidget toys

✩ if you stim by bouncing up and down or making repetitive noises he finds it the CUTEST THING EVER

✩ tries really hard not to baby you though

✩ if you go non-verbal, he’ll get those lil card things and try to figure out what you need

✩ for the most part, perfect

✩ but he’d probably get stressed out when you’re upset and he can’t figure out why

𝔐𝔞𝔱𝔱

✩ to be honest he wouldn’t really know what it is 😭

“…adhd..? What does that stand for? A dang hot dude? That’s me!”

✩ once you explain he still doesn’t really understand but he tries his best

✩ always asks you if you need anything

✩ if you go nonverbal he kinda panics, he frantically googles until he finds out what’s happening to you

✩ he kinda just hugs you until you’re okay

✩ same thing goes for panic attacks and stuff

✩ he’s perfect to be around if you’re hyper, because no matter what he’ll get hyper and match your energy too

✩ doesn’t really know what stimming is but he copies your movement/noises

✩ probably has his own collection of fidgets that he lets you borrow

✩ if you randomly start focusing on something unrelated to whatever you’re doing, he’d probably join in 😭

✩ my man is NOT neurotypical ‼️

✩ probably relates to you in a lot of ways if you have ADHD

✩ will definitely indulge in your hyperfixations

✩ super silly

𝔗𝔬𝔪

✩ theme park dad energy

“Don’t touch that. Or that. Y/n!”

✩ because of his temper he’d probably get frustrated easily

✩ but he’d try to hold it back because he cares about you

✩ he’s perfect if you just need some quiet time

✩ as I’ve said before, a great listener

✩ if you wanna rant about your hyperfixations, or you just wanna be silent, he’ll listen either way

✩ really good at reading you when you’re non-verbal

✩ if you keep getting off track, he nudges you until you listen

✩ lets out quiet chuckles when you stim

✩ not in a mean way, he can just find it amusing and cute

✩ if you’re bouncing your knee or something he’ll lay his hand on it and rub it

✩ I don’t really think he’s neurodivergent so it’s hard for him to relate to you

✩ but he’d do a ton of research so he’s prepared for any situation

✩ would never admit that though

✩ loves seeing your eyes light up when you see something relating to your hyperfixations

✩ If you’re overstimulated he holds you, letting you bury your face in the crook of his neck while he either covers your ears or strokes your back

✩ would not baby you

✩ he’d be comforting, but if something happens he’ll give you the truth on what he thinks you should do

✩ he’d be soft with his wording, but my guy does not sugarcoat

✩ likes to see you fidget with stuff, he finds it cute

𝔗𝔬𝔯𝔡

✩ might get confused at some of your habits

✩ after doing a little research he’d be super understanding though

✩ loves it when you fidget with his fingers or his hoodie strings

✩ finds your stimming adorable

✩ like, he can’t help the grin that crawls on his face when you bounce up and down or make repetitive noises

✩ the first time you stimmed infront of him he literally scooped you up and spun you around

✩ gets super protective if you’re overstimulated

✩ he does literally anything he can for you to feel okay

✩ murmurs sweet things into your ear if you’re panicking

✩ if you go nonverbal he internally panics, but he’s calm on the outside

✩ despite his slight panic, he can read you really well

✩ might accidentally baby you, but if it bothers you he tones it down

✩ loves talking to you about your hyperfixations

✩ just generally finds it adorable how you act

✩ likes to sit you on his lap and play with your hair, letting you rant about whatever the hell you want

✩ snickers when you loose focus on whatever you’re doing

“Love, c’mon. We can look at that later…”

✩ very sweet and understanding

TYSM for the request!!! I’m so sorry that it slowly gets worse my tumblr is lagging so bad it’s hell to write 😭 other than that this was super fun to write!!

- xoxo, Artemis

#tord x reader #eddswolrd #edd eddsworld #tom eddsworld #eddsworld tord #matt eddsworld #future edd #eddsworld #fanfic #fanfiction #request #reqs open #autism #adhd #ellsworld #red leader tord #tord #edd ew #tord ew #matt ew #tom ew #not my best work #i’m sorry #lol

[fear-is-truth]

hii 🫶🫶 can you write something about tate planning a really fun date for you?? i need to read something fluffy rn lol . Love your writing 🩷🩷

Tate Langdon x reader

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧! 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐬𝐟𝐰 • 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

✧. a/n ─ thank you anon for this cute request! i had so much fun writing this ~ i’m considering to write this into an one-shot (after my exams are done). xoxo, jackie

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

✧. pairings ─ tate langdon x fem! reader

✧. genre ─ headcanons ⨾ fluff

✧. summary ─ it’s halloween, the one day of the year tate is able to go outside. he’s been planning this special date for you. in secret. for an entire month

✧. warnings ─ none, just fluff.

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

october is tate’s month. that fact has already been established.

it’s the only month of the year that he insists on being the one to cross out the days on your calendar, counting down the days to halloween.

the concept of days doesn’t really matter to tate, since he’s stuck in the house for eternity. he only keeps track of hours and minutes, waiting for you to come home like a puppy.

so when you’re at school, he gets down to planning.

the date has to be perfect because you are his light and you deserve the absolute best.

he uses Google map on your computer to check out potential date plans, scrawling them down on a piece of paper:

e.g. coffee shops, record stores, an escape room, a haunted house, the halloween festival, etc.

all the while listening to the playlist you guys share— a combo of your favourites songs and his favourites.

when it’s nearly the time you come home, he wipes the search history; turns off the computer, and stuffs the paper in his jeans pocket.

then he sits on the foot of the stairs, patiently waiting for you to step through the front door, just like every other day.

he gives you a bear hug, mumbles “i missed you” into the crook of your shoulder. the two of you share a kiss.

{time skip to halloween!}

he buys your favorite drink from the coffee shop, and the two of you wander through the crowd of people at the halloween festival, holding hands the entire time.

the haunted house is purely for shits and giggles. you live in the murder house, for christ’s sake.

he had chosen that particular place because he wants to see you get spooked. that way, you’ll jump into his arms and he can protect you.

tate hides behind bushes or around corners to jump-scare a bunch of trick-or-treaters. (he’s so immature sometimes)

he raids the candy bowls that sits on people’s doorsteps.

“the note says: ‘take one’. you took like, five.”

“but y/n, it’s sour patch kids and snickers!! ooh just look at these skittles-”

“tate.”

“okay, hear me out: one for you, one for me, and addy, beau and rose, don’t forget your parents-”

the fact that he wore his cardigan with large pockets isn’t just pure coincidence. boy has a major sweet tooth, he needs extra space to store his loot.

you both end up leaving with stuffed pockets. which made you feel a bit guilty, but the adorable and smug smile tate gave you made it a bit better.

“see? stealing isn’t that bad~”

before you can argue, he unwraps a small hersey’s bar and stuffs it into your mouth to shut you up, laughing.

you sneak into the movie theater together, perfectly timed to see the final parts of the movie where the slasher brutally murders everyone. the candy you’ve stolen taken from earlier comes in handy.

tate has always been secretly fantasizing the two of you kissing/holding hands in a dark theater, like in those chick flicks you forced him watch together.

finally, he gets to fulfill that fantasy.

after the movie, everyone else leaves, while you two proceeds to make out during the rolling credits.

until the employee kicks you both out.

your sit next to each other at the beach, having deep, philosophical conversations while you listen to the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

which lead to cuddling, then a hot make-out session.

“tate?”

“yeah, y/n?”

“this is the best halloween i’ve ever had.”

-—————————⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆—————————-

✧. a/n ─ english is not my first language, please tolerate the grammatical mistakes

requests are open, comment for taglist ♡

©️@cinnamxngirl

#american horror story #tate langdon #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #tate langdon x reader #fluff #tate langdon headcanon #Tate Langdon hc #ahs #Kit walker

[mrs-monaghan]

Can you show me jungkook being the best boyfriend ever

What tf kinda difficult question is this??? JK is an amazing fucking boyfriend. He shows up. This👏🏾 motherfucker 👏🏾shows👏🏾 up👏🏾 He puts the standard so high, making it look like we are all getting treated by our partners like garbage. This dude loves Jimin so much and has always been there for him in so many ways big and small and you want me to pick one moment?

Oh. Unless u didn't mean just one moment in which case forget all that 😁😁😁 here. Have this Jimtiddie as an apology

Tweet

Off the top of my head my dear anon;

Exhibit a) Dieting

So once upon a time, I'm sure we all know the story of how JK got Jimin to stop dieting unhealthily.

(Thanks @sarah2711)

Exhibit b) The live they did after their UN speeches.

V is the one who starts the whole thing by making fun of Jimin apologising after he made his mistake during his speech. (I already talk about JK being there for Jimin here) Other members chime in and at first Jimin is laughing with them. But then at some point he stops laughing, just sits there as they continue to make fun of him. Then he starts chewing on his nails which alot of the time is a sign of nerves

And he absolutely shrinks in on himself. Of course JK notices immediately and that's when he tells the members to cut it out. He tells them how they should be making Jimin feel better. Not making fun of him. Immediately all the members, at the same time, backtrack. They start praising Jimin and saying how they get it.

The whole thing is too long to clip but it all starts at 12:32 here

Because we don't talk about Yoonmin 😏 we have to note that all of them made fun of Jimin but JK only spoke up after Suga said this

🤭🤭

P.s RM also said something but the members only changed their tune after JK did. I have always found this moment so sweet. JK was being protective of his baby here of course. Which goes hand in hand with this post. JK just wasn't having it and I love to see it.

When Jimin was explaining himself,

JK was quietly listening. He didn't say anything until Jimin said this

And we all know JK doesn't like when Jimin is being self deprecating. So it tracks that he comfortingly says;

That, right there anon, was JK showing up like the amazing boyfriend he is.

Bonus with the Jimin jealous moment here. And yes, thats exactly what it was.

More instances of JK being protective of his bf by Kanmom here

Exhibit c) SEVEN

Yes. Seven. The summer song of the year. Love to watch it. Love to hear it. So, I think we can all agree its a sex song. Period. That's what it is. It's a proper love making song. A topic we love to discuss on this side of tumblr.... but, have we stopped for a second to explore the romantic side of SEVEN?

So we established SEVEN is basically satellite Jeon in a nutshell. Which that alone is quite big. Always wanting to be with your person, next to your person no matter what. But JK chasing after his love interest from beginning to end till she gives in shows;

He would do anything for the one he loves. He would walk through fire. Through storms. Go anywhere... if it means its for the one he loves. He is devoted, he is all in. Deeper than the ocean. And this is basically what this post is all about, really. JK's devotion for Jimin. Deeper than the God damn ocean.

Then we have this part

For those who dont know what that means by now, I'll give u a few seconds to go look up the meaning on Google. In the meantime the rest of us will enjoy this cute clip of satellite Jeon who started quite early

Oh you're back! Yes. We can proceed. 😁😁

So what we have discovered is that JK is a generous lover... a considerate lover... Puts his partner first. JK is a "it's okay baby, you can tend to me later, this is about you" kind of guy. He is the "I won't come until you've cum" type of dude.

In other words, his lover is the priority.

Now.

Jikook don't have an only fans so we haven't seen this in action and there4 have no way of knowing that JK is like this in the bedroom. BUT, considering the fact that he prioritises Jimin all the time, we have seen this happen, I dont see why we can't assume this part of him extends to the bedroom too! Right? Like, its gotta be the case.

JK would rather loose provided Jimin wins.

JK always prefering to walk slightly behind Jimin

JK would rather miss out on the last dish and let Jimin have it. (And we know this is huge coz mans loves his food)

Just to give 3 examples that show JK when it comes to Jimin... well, u know. Jimin comes first. Literally and figuratively 😏 So I'm gonna go ahead and politely insist 😂 that the same happens during Sevening. Mkay? Glad we agree 😁😁

Exhibit d) JK always looking to praise Jimin.

(Thanks @tarheelthings)

Jimin made the group ramen (his specialty) and as u can see JK was already telling him how perfect it tastes and yet he hadn't even tasted it yet. Even editors noticed 😂😂

Bv 1 finale no one praises Jimin's santa and he laments as much.

We know our Mimi loves to be complimented and praised; absolutely feeds off of that shit. And JK knows this which is why he immediately tells Jimin "yours is the best" Jimin is so happy to hear this, cheeses so hard that even the editors notice.

Gosh... he was so happy 🥺🥺 Jimin has a praise kink and JK is great at fulfilling this. Aaah. Shit. Now I'm wondering if this extends to the bedroom 🤔 I'm pretty sure it does 🙈🙈🙈

Okay ✋🏽 let's stop thinking about JK calling Jimin a good boy and move on, yes?

Btw, RM too recognises that Jimin loves to be praised and u will see him come through too. But JK is always faster so... 😁😁

Then we have ITS when JK tasted Jimin's food, once again, high praises.

And then when when Jimin says

JK replied "I know."

Something about this moment drives home to me the fact that Jimin doesn't cook well, at home. JK does. But we already knew this from Jin ("Jungkook is Jimin's chef")

On the topic of praises, when other members try to make fun of Jimin JK will quickly make sure Jimin knows he doesn't feel the same way. This and exhibit b are like sisters. They can go hand in hand 😆

So Bon Voyage season 1 Jimin was cooking for Jin. As soon as Jimin placed the plate on the table JK did not once take his eyes off of it.

And, this was after JK kept going to keep an eye on Jimin cooking even though they weren't team mates or nothing. I'm telling y'all, Jimin sits pretty at home while JK does all the cooking. Anyway, when Jin tastes the food he says;

But the way he says it, its like he's taking the piss. It wasn't complimentary. So JK of course went;

And he couldn't get to that dish fast enough

And he devoured the rest of it

While the rest, mind you, are still making fun of Jimin/his dish. But JK didn't give a shit. His baby had made that plate and by God he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Once again, to me, this cements my theory that JK doesn't get to eat Jimin's food often. He gets way too excited when Jimin cooks, can't wait to taste his food, etc etc.

Which brings us to our next example where one time Jimin brought the entire group cucumber drinks and they hated it. Jhope goes on to explain just how much they hated the flavor.

There is a chorus of all the members agreeing with Jhope and even Jimin accepts that the cucumber drinks were terrible. But low and behold, look what the boyfriend had to say about it

Timestamp 4:12 so u can see for yourselves just how much everyone hated those drinks.

(Thanks @tarheelthings and @chicknbunny13)

Look, in JK's eyes, Jimin can do no wrong, okay? To JK, Jimin is perfect and that's that. End of story: No further questions. This behaviour is what I was talking about on my whipped post here.

Exhibit e) When JK checks on Jimin.

I don't gotta show many examples of this we've all seen it. JK always craning his neck over members to see what Jimin is up to. He always likes to know where Jimin is, what he's doing, which imo is amazing boyfriend behavior if ask me.

A moment I've never seen talked about anywhere from BV 1; JK comes into the RV to check on Jimin who's sleeping.

I know he came to check on Jimin because he walks in, takes a peak, then walks back out. Almost like he had confirmed Jimin was okay and now he could go about his business.

Tell me thats not the sweetest, cutest thing ever!

I've just uploaded 31 images n a video. I don't think tumblr likes me enough to allow me to do more so let's stop here. I hope your Jungkook praise kink has been fulfilled. It was my pleasure.😁😁

He really is a good man. The best. And Jimin deserves nothing less 😍😍😍

#protective jungkook #we don't talk about Yoonmin #satellite jeon #jikook is real #if jikook isn't real then neither I'm i #bon voyage Jikook #run Jikook #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #kookmin #minkook #jimin and jungkook #jimin #jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts #whipped jungkook #whipped jk #jungkook seven

[wambsgansshoelaces]

omg a headcanon like the one you did for tom but for roman snd stewy? the period one i mean !! also gender neutral pls :>

thank you for requesting anon, i love u!!! enjoy xx

really craving pizza bianca rn

on your period (roman + stewy)

Roman

ᝰ has no idea what he’s doing

ᝰ he calls your period a full stop because ‘they’re synonyms lol’ (as his text said)

ᝰ just wants you happy

ᝰ so whenever you’re on your period he just

ᝰ does things for you??

ᝰ makes you breakfast in bed, attempts to pack you a lunch, botches dinner

ᝰ he’s trying at least

ᝰ he usually just settles for buying you whatever you’re craving and letting you lay your head in his lap

ᝰ he strokes your hair, your face, your neck, your back

ᝰ he makes sure you’re feeling good

ᝰ lots of chocolate all the time

ᝰ just so that he can eat it with you

ᝰ if you ever ruin any pants or clothing or even furniture, he replaces it without you knowing

ᝰ “didn’t i throw this pair of pants out last week?” you ask him one time

ᝰ “i got you a new one, don’t worry about it.”

ᝰ if you suffer with cramps or any sort of chronic illness regarding your reproductive health, he’s always quietly concerned

ᝰ “you sure it doesn’t hurt? you should tell me if it hurts.”

ᝰ keeps track of how long in between painkillers your pain returns

ᝰ makes you try a bunch of homemade remedies he googled

ᝰ the first time you go on your period while you’re living together, he goes out and buys you a heating pad, a weighted blanket, and a heated blanking thing all at once

ᝰ if you use pads or tampons, he gets really confused when out trying to buy some for you

ᝰ but he’s too embarrassed to ask

ᝰ so when you’re taking a nap he scuttles into the bathroom and takes a picture that he keeps on his phone

ᝰ and then gets the exact ones when he notices you’re running out or you ask him

ᝰ this man bullies the doctors that don’t listen to you

ᝰ like he is well known with the endocrinologists and gynecologists in the are as a nusiance

ᝰ and lowkey an asshole

ᝰ but it’s all ‘in your honor’ as he says

ᝰ “if they say they’re cramping, they’re cramping. aren’t you supposed to be helpful? how the fuck do you have a medical license?”

ᝰ has gotten kicked out of the appointment many a time

ᝰ but he always waits patiently for you outside

ᝰ and calls corporate like the diva he is

ᝰ has the means to get you the best care

ᝰ and he does get you it

ᝰ “you literally deserve so much more than i can give you. you’re my everything, remember?”

ᝰ “i love you, ro.”

ᝰ “fuck off with that sappy shit…. i love you more.”

Stewy

ᝰ knows enough about periods to be able to help you

ᝰ like he’s knowledgeable enough to cook things he knows your body is in need of during your period of ovulation

ᝰ urges you to work out specifically on your period

ᝰ “it helps clear your head,” he says

ᝰ but if you’re not up to it, he won’t make you

ᝰ maybe just a small walk around outside and he’ll let you just nap

ᝰ but if you even don’t even want to walk, he thinks you’re dying

ᝰ and showers you in affection

ᝰ which he does anyway even if he thinks you’re fine??

ᝰ he’s just dramatic

ᝰ he’s an awfully good cook

ᝰ he loves cooking

ᝰ especially for you

ᝰ he specifically makes you pho for dinner every first day of your period

ᝰ “it clears your sinuses, babe,” he says every single time

ᝰ it does, really

ᝰ he’s really big about the two of you sitting down at the table for meals

ᝰ but if you’re unable because of your period, it’s fine with him

ᝰ he bought one of those breakfast in bed trays just for those moments

ᝰ if you struggle with bad cramps or reproductive illness, he’s with you at every single appointment

ᝰ sometimes he even sits next to you on the patient bed

ᝰ he just likes swinging his legs over the side

ᝰ he scrambles off whenever the doctor comes in

ᝰ he’s so subtly evil with bad doctors

ᝰ “oh, i understand it’s your professional opinion, but i also understand this clinic operates solely on donations? huh, and i think those guys whose names are on plaques all over the place are my buddies! you know jeff? i know jeff!”

ᝰ holds your hand through everything

ᝰ pain, ultrasounds, examinations

ᝰ you’re both walking back to the car from a normal check up and he’s swinging your hands back and forth with his

ᝰ “you know, i’ll help you with anything you ask me to.”

ᝰ “thank you, stew. you’re sweet.”

ᝰ “i love you.”

#roman roy #stewy hosseini #roman roy x reader #stewy hosseini x reader #succession #succession hbo #succession x reader #wambsgansshoelaces #anon ask #succession headcanons

[shimmeringweeds]

For those interested in a sing-along: here is an English translation of the encore song from the Link Click Musical. (you know, the one one with the hug.)

The tentative title, supplied by a weibo user, is 追光者 "Zhuīguāng zhě" <- Recent lyrics call this 《追光的人》

Edit: It didn't hold up lol. Big thank you @chocolatexiaoshi for teaching me! 追光的人 means People who Pursue Light/ Chase Light/ or Seek Light . Some lyrics have been and will continue to be modified as we work on this!

追光 translates to “spotlight” in my dictionary. Literally, it means "to chase light" In this song, 追光 is personified as either 追光者 or 追光的人. Pretty cool term to use in a stage play! Google translates this as “light chaser.” I’ve chosen to go with “guiding light.” We will see how poorly that holds up to official translation ^^;

Each line punches the gut harder that the last. This song basically references the s2 ending, then ties it into the earthquake ark. It's brilliant. It hurts. Listen to the video while you read. Please enjoy :)

Disclaimer: As always, I am a novice translating for fun, because I want to sing-along and know what I'm saying. I can’t speak or read this language. If you've checked google translate, this doesn't add much extra, but! this post conveniently includes Hanzi, Pinyin, and English for you to reference + a few notes. I've primarily used Pleco, inputting word by word, with mdgb.net/google for extra clarification. I'm learning, but fairly confident that this is reliable, though not fluent. Please reach out about any mistakes you find!

link to video

link to origin lyrics: one, two , and a thank you to @sgdlr-asdfghjkl for providing them!

---

-追光者-

LG:

城市一隅寂静角落

Chéngshì yīyú jìjìng jiǎoluò

A quiet nook in the corner of the city

破旧相馆串眹你我

Pòjiù xiàng guǎn chuàn zhèn nǐ wǒ

Our shabby photo studio ties us together

目睹命运莫测

Mùdǔ mìngyùn mò cè

Witnessing unpredictable fate

难逃重蹈覆辙

Nán táo chóngdǎofùzhé <- idom follow the track of the overturned cart.

It's hard to escape the same mistakes

照片窥探他的时空

Zhàopiàn kuīchēn tā de shíkōng

Peaking at his timeline in the photograph

无人知晓真实的我

Wú rén zhīxiǎo zhēnshí de wǒ

No one understands the real me

相遇还是重逢, 他不知, 我也不能说

Xiāngyù háishì lànghuā, Tā bùzhī, Wǒ yě bùnéng shuō

Whether this is our first encounter or our reunion, he doesn't know and I also cannot say.

-

CXS:

善于洒脱遮掩脆弱

Shànyú sǎtuō zhēyǎn cuìruò

I'm good at being at ease to hide weakness

他的出现如光降落

Tā de chūxiàn rú guāng jiàngluò

He emerges like light descending

学会渥手言和

Xuéhuì wò shǒu yán hé

Learning to shake hands and make peace

释怀亲情的枷锁

Shìhuái qīnqíng de jiāsuǒ

I'll let go of the chains of familial affection.

谁都有难圆的梦不止是我

Shéi dōu yǒu nán yuán de mèng bùzhǐ shì wǒ

Everyone has unfulfilled dreams, not just me.

-

LG:

遗憾指引着赶路的我

Yíhàn zhǐyǐnzhe gǎnlù de wǒ

Regret guides me in my pursuit

CXS:

回忆温暖着迷路的我

Huíyì wēn nuǎn zháo mílù de wǒ

Memories warm me when I’m lost

-

Both CXS/LG:

绕过岁月错落, 不问值不值得,

Ràoguò suìyuè cuòluò, bù wèn zhí bù zhídé

Detouring through time scattered around, don’t ask if it’s worth it or not

打破轮回的规则

Dǎpò lúnhuí de guīzé

Break through the rules of the the time loop

Refrain:

我一次又一次全力以赴, 跨越时间的沟壑

Wǒ yīcìyòuyīcì quánlìyǐfù, kuàyuè shíjiān de gōuhè

Again and again I’ll give my all, leaping across the ravine of time

无视黑夜白昼的界限, 试图换一个结果.

Wúshì hēiyè báizhòu de jièxiàn, shìtú huàn yī gè jiéguǒ

Ignore the boundary between night and day, and attempt to exchange one outcome

经历过, 才看破

Jīnglìguò, Cái kànpò

With experience, the ability to perceive

人生剧情总独特又重合

Rénshēng jùqíng zǒng dútè yòu chónghé,

The unique sums of life’s play will coincide again <- (arithmetic language. each timeline = a sum and you add timelines together to find a solution.)

却依旧不妥协不退缩, 让难题被弥合

Què yījiù bù tuǒxié bù tuìsuō ràng nántí bèi míhé

But still, don't compromise, don't cower and the problem twill be solved

-

每一次击掌后踏上旅途重返分岔的路口

Měi yīcì jí zhǎng hòu tà shàng lǚtú chóng fǎn fēn chà de lùkǒu

Every high five sets us back on the journey, we return to the branching crossroads

逆转時空的代价需要感性和理性拉扯

Nìzhuǎn shíkōng de dàijià xūyào gǎnxìng hé lǐxìng lāchě

The price of reversing time requires perception and reason's pull

追光者, 平凡者

Zhuī guāng zhě, píngfán zhě

People pursuing light, Ordinary people

不能插手为何感同身受

Bùnéng chāshǒu wéihé gǎntóngshēnshòu <- idiom: "to feel indebted as if the favor were received in person", meaning: "to feel as if it happened to oneself."

If you can’t lend a hand, why do you sympathize

任往事一幕幕 重演着

Rèn wǎngshì yīmù mù chóngyǎnzhe

Allow past events to play out, reenactor

却只能铭记职责

Què zhǐ néng míngjì zhízé

But we must bear responsibility

-

Chen Xiao and his Mom:

追光的人穿梭不同时空撕开时间的裂缝

Zhuīguāng de rén chuānsuō bùtóng shíkōng sī kāi shíjiān de lièfèng

The people who pursue light go back and forth between different times and space, ripping open cracks in time

尘埃落定的回忆激活过去与现实交错

Chén'āiluòdìng de huíyì jīhuó guòqù yǔ xiànshí jiāocuò

The memory’s dust has settled, causing the past to intertwine with present <-(激活- lit. chemical activation)

翻越着, 感受过

Fānyuè zhe, gǎnshòu guò

To climb over, to experience

不能重来的也还有更多

Bùnéng chóng lái de yěxǔ hái yǒu gèngduō

There are probably many things we cannot do over

却偏要去折叠去缝合让心结被愈合

Què piān yào qù zhédié qù fénghé ràng xīn jié bèi yùhe

But I must go fold, go suture, so this knot in my heart can heal

——

All:

追光的人圆满他们的梦抚平自己的伤口

Zhuīguāng de rén yuánmǎn tāmen de mèng fǔ píng zìjǐ de shāngkǒu

People who pursue light will satisfy their dreams and smooth their own wounds

逆转时针的能力操控宿命与现实相逢

Nìzhuǎn shízhēn de nénglì cāokòng sùmìng yǔ xiànshí xiāngféng

The ability to reverse the hands of the clock manipulates fate to meet reality.

追光者, 旁观者

Zhuīguāng zhě, pángguān zhě

People pursuing light, A bystander

轨迹从不许人失而复得

Guǐjī cóng bùxǔ rén shī'érfùdé

The trajectory will never allow a person to lose and regain

决不能任遗憾摆弄着, 让悔恨成为执着

Jué bùnéng rèn yíhàn bǎinòngzhe, ràng huǐhèn chéngwéi zhízhuó

Never can regrets be fiddled with, remorse will become attachment

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LG:

追光者守护你救赎我

Zhuīguāng zhě shǒuhù nǐ jiùshú wǒ

People pursuing light will defend you and redeem me

让遗憾告别生活

Ràng yíhàn gàobié shēnghuó

To make regret depart from life

#link click musical #lyrics #people who pursue light #shiguang dailiren #时光代理人 #link click