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#i would cheer for that. compelling
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blade gunnblade !!!!!!!!
via eliza simpson:
There are no words for this true warrior. They kill me. MMM: went in for a post show hug. Me:"ow!" Asia: "oh sorry, that's my bullet necklace." 😳........ 😍
#blade gunnblade#asia kate dillon#kapow-i gogo#eliza simpson of [angel & others in the mysteries] & [the mother line story project] & [saw ak dillon in triptych yes we're jealous]#& [princess cloudberry in kapow-i gogo]#here we also see stephen stout in the 1st pic but going ''!! surely our dear cherished blade gunnblade's back. hair's long though hmm''#only to have that cleared up by the 3rd pic thank god =']#i guess at some point blade gunnblade has blue hair & i do love that for them#i believe they're in part 3 but i have all the less information about that plausible appearance#(and of course still no info on [asia perhaps doubling roles with the longer black haired wig & ultracorp jacket in that one pic?])#one thing that would be fascinating & fun is if part 3 blade has more of part 1 kapow-i's look. the bright blue hair#looks like pink lipstick. Pure Speculation but i know the like [this is reaction to You Know How Media Is] element discussed like#part 1 thinking most [sat. morning cartoons experience; the legend of] part 2 is like when these series get sequels or just some#ep or turning point that upends its own previous established conventions. Darker more Serious / Mature Themes etc#part 3 like well sequel to That which adds yet another layer of the same factor there lol#i'm not really that versed in All This Media directly b/c i'm not that versed in / familiar with much of any media directly but#i am also not completely at sea & also one thing i could think of is like. blade is our revenge vengeance tragic anti antagonist lmao#what if after that they get to lighten up in delightful contrast to the torment & tragedy. turn more optimistic moral support bestie etc#but like i said utter speculation based on ''oh this is a look they have?'' & comments on [comments on material commenting on itself] so#could be anything! or nothing! except that it's Something enough to have been photographed a couple of times. thank god#oh hang on also we can see that that's stephen stout's character in the pic of Wearing A Black Longer Haired Wig & Ultracorp Jacket#who's to say it isn't also: yes that's blade disguised or something. underneath they have this bright blue shorter wig & Blade Outfit lol#i would cheer for that. compelling#(also noting that it didn't preclude a doubling of roles instead but; that figure Is wearing blade's necklace. makes it easy to switch to#Blade Mode backstage; makes it easy to switch to Blade Mode onstage....)#which: noted! bullet necklace! makes sense lmao. sort of#also pic 2 ft. director kristin mccarthy parker fyi. and the typical blade hair length i.e. simply asia's own.#''😳........ 😍'' soooooo true ''MMM:'' standing for ''most memorable moment:'' and also sooooo true as well#blade gunnblade is everything to me. if they died in part 3 i'm blowing this whole building up. they have bright blue hair now
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unexpectedbrickattack · 9 months
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short king and his shorter kings
#pizza tower#pepstavo#peppinoise#i sketched it out WEEKS ago#but w me almost finishing this godawful comm i felt compelled to do something for Me#i cannot wait to finish; i have a couple of forms sitting there collecting dust but im too overwhelmed w this shitty comm-#-to even attempt to tackle those. i need to scrub my brain and start fresh. but after i finish it lmao#anyway hey. hope everyones okay and vibin#dont take this seriously but also. heehee.#in hindsight i feel like i need to bump gustavos head up a lil bit but weh#not too compelled to fix it.#additional context that i think is fun; gus is just a touchy dude and he finds all kinds of reasons to pick peppino up#and every time peppino is like SO flustered and shocked bc itll be in the view of customers#like some sports team wins and its on their tvs and ppl are hootin n hollerin#and like people will notice and keep cheering and its alot hes like oh my GOD u cannot keep doing that im going to explode and then die#noise will do it to prove he can do it and then his back snaps in two bc he weighs like 80 lbs (36kg)#but for like a brief moment of time he is facefirst in tummy and hes ecstatic#theo it is not funny to be rushed to the er bc u broke ur back#also suggestive (but funny i prommy)#but he absolutely would be that like girl who needed a neckbrace from having her gf accidentally sit on her face too hard#hes like ouuuuhhghh....that was worth it. how long will it take to recover doc bc i wanna do it again :)#meanwhile. i think if that happened peppino would literally go into hiding. ur not finding him.#it would literally haunt him that he nearly killed this rat w his fat ass#as if this is not the way both gus and noise would like to go out. it would be peaceful for them i think#anyway#runs away cutely; see u in two weeks maybe
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shima-draws · 7 months
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Rewatching a playthrough of Danganronpa and it actually shocks me how chill Monokuma is. Even when Kyoko goes around stealing his shit and he finds Makoto with it later he's like. Yeah okay. I don't hold it against you or anything it's cool. LMAO
He has every available opportunity to just kill everyone whenever, especially when they break the rules, but he never does. I really love villains who stick to their own rules so it's fair for everyone else :")
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byanyan · 2 months
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don't mind me hopping on the ig profile bandwagon today... byan's an ig junkie, how could i resist??ㅤ©
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hauntingblue · 27 days
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Choose your favourite reaction
#'we will take the trial of hell i know you guys will make it' luffy enablers 1 and 2 zoro and robin: I'm in#SANJI JUST BROKE THE FOURTH WALL!!!!#nami too!!!!!!#why did luffy jump for choper akdhaksjsk#luffy just letting nami hit him and acting like an annoying child... yeah..#also this 3d pov shot is cool as hell#everyone is so dumb in this movie akdhsksjsk#the humor in this movie is just misunderstandings and silences and it works so well.....#chopper that was some fine acting lmao#zoro and sanji fighting instead of trying to win the game... they want each other so bad ....#usopp saying betrayal is namis specialty...#sanji jealous of the bbq guy akdhajaj and nami keeping the goldfish guy drunk after robin ajdhak that slap!!!#'you don't have the right to eat bc you wernt cheering me on' SANJI!!! KISS HIM ALREADY!!!#i love the turmoil. luffy does not. that is why he is gonna go apeshit#zoro said fuck that kid. in particular. he has a nice voice#damn chopper couldnt you have caught the child that soil looks hard#STOP IT WITH THE HOLES!!!!!!#the style gives me sabaody vibes and well the plot too#this is torture...i know the last one to be eaten will be nami... for dramatic effect bc thats his twin... i know it...#i checked and this was BEFORE sabaody??? incredible...#zoro is the last... of course... well i insist... sabaody vibes.... luffy this is so bad#the head going to zoro.... omg..... how did they know about luffys abandonment issues before the manga.... i mean of course he would be hurt#luffy jumping like a little goblin.... MORE!!! luffy going insane i love you... this is so fucked up... but so good#luffy has suffered more than jesus christ.... this isn't canon but it is confirmed to me... see the wounds on his hands.... crucified#this is a tuskly so good..... the villain is compelling and everything its kinda sad#that ending :) that was so good actually everyone watch this#its the baron omatsuri and the secret island movie ask me about where to watch it#talking tag#watching one piece#watching one piece movies
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hansoulo · 1 year
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Have you completely abandoned writing?
what happened to... hello? how are you? my name is?
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thebirdandhersong · 2 years
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:')))))))
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daisyachain · 1 month
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The mind of the mangaka behind DnA is a curious cauldron. His home team are the bad guys in every battle. Yakushi—one star pitcher uses his skills to try and help his economically struggling teammate/coach. Ugumori—a bunch of childhood friends reconnect after a tragic accident and reforge their bonds by playing together. That school where Yeung was playing—plucky international student fights for recognition in a notoriously xenophobic country. Sankou—they have nothing going for them but Amahisa is just fun (:. Even Inashiro—as tyrannical as they are, they are a bunch of players who formed a team based on mutual respect for each other’s abilities, a marvel of teenage diplomacy. Seidou? Canonically a bunch of assholes. They just suck. They want to win because they hate losing. They don’t even like the plucky underdog on their team, Eijun. The most sympathetic thing about Seidou is Rei’s attempt to make it a team of odds and ends but that is Her big story and motivation. Miyuki joins the team purely out of contrarianism. Chris is there because his dad’s a big shot. They Look Bad. They Are Bad. They’re The Bad Guys. What Even Are We Doing Here.
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scarletlizzard · 2 months
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Inked Desires
Pairing: g!p Natasha x fem! Reader
Tags Minors DNI: smut, Natasha has a dick, also covered in tattoos w/ piercings, buff out of this world, she's hot okay, cunnilingus, handjobish, unprotected sex, breeding yup, alcohol at the beginning
A/N: I'm cheating and putting these two requests together, oops! This is my first time writing something like this, so please be gentle. Also, would really love some feedback on this so I know for the future to either write more like this or just tell me to stop now. Thanks so much for reading and thanks for the requests!! 🩵
Masterlist
~~~
"Here, take this!" Your friend says over the loud music, handing you another cup half filled with a mixture of liquor.
You don't question her and take the cup from her, drinking it down in only two gulps. Kate laughs and cheers as you do, doing the same with the cup she held.
By now, you were a few drinks in, and the house Kate had dragged you to was full of people. This definitely wasn't your type of scene, but as you danced among the bodies in the lowlit living room, you couldn't help but feel grateful she had.
As your hips move against your friend, she leans over to your ear. "She's staring at you again," Kate laughs, and your eyes move to the corner of the room.
There was the stranger of the night, a tall woman who stood out, whose green eyes had been watching your every move since you walked in the door. Her muscular arms were covered with art of all kinds, disappearing up into the sleeves of her shirt. She brought her red cup to her lips again, her face mostly hidden from the light.
Instead of replying, you only continue to dance, this time keeping eye contact with your stranger. The woman watches as your hips sway, your hands traveling your own body as you move to the music. It doesn't take long after that before she's finally striding across the room, standing a head taller than most of the crowd.
When she reaches you, you can finally see the rest of her gorgeous face. Above her sprightly green eyes, you noticed a piercing on her eyebrow, a few on her nose, and one on the bottom lip of the smirk she gave you. As she stands in front of you, you literally have to look up at her, and you realize she was much more toned up close.
"I'm just gonna grab another drink!" Kate raises her voice above the music for the two of you to hear.
"I'll catch up with you later!" You shout back to which she only laughs and shoots you a "Yeah, right," before walking off.
You turn your attention back to the stranger.
"I haven't seen you here before. What's your name?" She asks. Her eyes shamelessly roam the soft features of your face and the curves of your body.
"Y/N... this is my first time here. What's yours?" You ask with a blush on your cheeks. She tucks back her red hair behind one of her ears, revealing to you even more piercings.
You don't know if it's the alcohol or the feeling the stranger ignited in your chest, but you feel compelled to step forward and rest your hand on her muscular bicep. Your finger traces the tattoos that littered the skin there.
"Natasha," she says with a smile. "Wanna go upstairs?" A cock of her eyebrow with the piercing sticking out is enough to get you wet.
***
As soon as the door closes, the two of you are on each other, kissing feverishly. Her hands are under your shirt, touching your skin as she lifts you against the door. Your legs wrap around her hips, and you smile against her lips at how easily she lifted you. She was strong. You could feel her muscles under her tight shirt, squeezing you impossibly close.
But when her tongue slips past your lips, you gasp and pull away, a string of saliva pulling between your mouths.
"What's wrong? Do you need to stop?" She asks with a concerned expression. You look at her with wide eyes.
"No - no, I'm fine, it's just. Is your tongue...?" You didn't know how to ask. She chuckles and ducks her head before looking back at you. Natasha lets her tongue slide across her top lip, and it's then your suspicions are confirmed.
"Split, and yes... it will feel better," Natasha says in a cocky tone, her lips attaching to your neck as she carries you to the bed. You feel your back hit the soft mattress, and she lets go of you to remove your shirt.
"I want to see them all," you breathe out and run your finger over the skin on her arm. She smiles and pulls back, taking off her shirt to reveal she was completely covered. "They're beautiful..." You let your eyes take in the sight of the art, your hands tracing the dark lines and over the grooves of her abs. Natasha is a God.
As she continues to undress you, she kisses as much skin as she can, her lips soft and wet with every touch. When she gets to your breasts, you feel her tongue spread, taking your nipple between the two halves and sucking it.
"Oh- oh fuck," you moan out, suprised at the unfamiliar feeling and how good it felt. Natasha hums and lays you back, kissing down your stomach. When she spreads your legs she looks at you with hungry eyes, seeing how wet you already were.
"All this for me, baby?" She asks, letting a finger move up and down your wet folds. Your body shivers with anticipation. The way she looked at you, the way she looked, you were willing to let this stranger do absolutely anything to you.
"All for you.." You husk back, watching her split tongue wet her lips again.
Natasha kneels down at the edge of the bed and puts your legs over her shoulders, her hands grip your thighs tightly.
"How fucking lucky am I then?" She smirks up at you before placing soft, teasing kisses on your thighs.
You feel her mouth attach to your clit, and the heat in your stomach burns hotter. She licks up your slit, groaning as she tastes you.
"Fuck you taste so good," Natasha moans and let's her tongue lick up to your clit. She let's the two halves spread and rub against you. The new feeling makes you arch your back, your head thrown against the comforter.
"G-God Nat, that feels so good!" You moan and try to squeeze your thighs, but her grip kept your legs spread as she continued to eat you out. The sounds of her mouth against your wet pussy were the most sinful sounds you had ever heard, and the moans leaving your mouth were sounds nobody had ever elicited from you before.
She groans against you, the vibrations causing even more pleasure. "That's it baby," she says in between licks, "Want you to cum all over my face." Natashas tongue moves in two different ways, the coil in your lower stomach twisting up.
Your hands grip the comforter as she moves quicker, and the coil begins to unravel as you come undone
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," your back arches again and your legs tremble around her head as you let out a pornographic moan. Natasha hums agaisnt you as you come, her hands not flinching to hold your thighs apart.
She licks every drop, her tongue swirling around your sensative clit one more time before she lets go and stands up. "Come here," Natasha commands, and with a dizzy mind you sit up, trying to catch your breath. She bends down to take your jaw, kissing you rough and sloppily. You forces you to taste yourself, and her tongue pushes in your mouth, wrapping around your own tongue.
You can smell your own arousal on her face, feeling it wet your nose and lips. You blush, almost embarrassed with how wet this stranger made you.
"Now lets see how well you can ride my cock," Natasha chuckles and pulls back to remove her remaining clothes. Your eyes are settled on her breasts, unable to remove them from the piercings on her nipples. When you can pull yourself away from the sight of the silver metal against pink, you look down to see her remove her underwear. She was hard, painfully hard just from eating you out.
She tosses the boxers in the corner where other random clothes lay, and you gave her a curious look. "It's my room, don't worry. Didn't even know you were in my house, did you, love?" Natasha strides back to the bed and sits with her back against the headboard, pulling you closer to her.
"No, I didn't. I'm sorry... my friend kind of dragged me out tonight," you say with red cheeks, and she kisses you desperately.
"Thank God she did," Nat mumbles against your lips. She lets out a groan as your hand reaches between the two of you to lightly grip her cock, and you could feel how she was already throbbing for you. You begin to move your hand up and down slowly as the kiss turns sloppy, her tongue sliding yours between hers. Natasha revels in the feeling of her in your soft hand, your delicate fingers moving along the veins of erection.
"Shit - that feels so good," she moans into the kiss as your hand movements speed up. Your thumb swipes across the tip, precum dripping out already. You smile at the low moan that leaves her lips and continue to jerk her as you kiss. "I need you, please. Fuck I need to be inside you," she begs, and the sound of her begging was something you wanted to hear again. You take her lower lip between your teeth, sucking on the piercing before letting go with a 'pop'.
"I wanna ride you so bad, Nat.. I'm so wet for you," you whisper and let your kisses trail down to her sharp jaw. You feel her cock twitch in your hand as you speak and she grabs your wrist to stop your hand movements, panting as she does.
Natasha turns you around quickly, groaning at the sight of your ass as you straddle her lap and let her hands guide you onto her thick cock. You slide down slowly, letting out a moan when you feel her filling you up.
"Just relax baby, you're so fucking tight," she mumbles as she watches herself slowly disappear inside of you. She let's out a low moan as she feels your hot cunt swallow her, the back of head hitting the headboard when she feels your walls squeezing her. The feeling alone was enough for her mind to sever ties with reality, the only thought was you.
The sensation has that coil tightening inside of you again. You rest your hands on her toned thighs for support, relishing in the way her muscles flexed underneath your fingertips.
Natashas' hands continue to guide you, and after you had adjusted to her large size, you begin to grind yourself down on her lap.
"Just like that baby, fuck... feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock. You were just made to take me," she groans, her words only driving you to move your hips faster.
Her large hands move to your sides and up your body, groping your skin as she starts to move her hips up to meet yours. The two of you find a rythem together, and soon you find yourself willingly bouncing on her cock. Her hands moved to gather your hair, wrapping it into a fist in her right hand. She tugs on it and pulls your head back, a loud moan leaves your lips at the feeling.
"You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" She smirks, tugging your hair again.
"Yes - god, yes, Nat!" You whine as her lips find your neck. She bites down hard on your pulse point, surely leaving a mark, and leaves hot open-mouthed kisses along your skin.
"I know you do, you little slut. Fucking dripping on my cock. You feel how easy I slide in and out of you?" She says and with her left hand she grabs your jaw. "Answer me."
"I'm so wet, you make me so wet," you whine again, feeling her fingers move between your teeth. You suck hard as you look in her eyes, your tongue swirling around spit dripping down your chin. When you bite down, it surprises her, but she only chuckles darkly.
In a second, Natasha had let go of your hair and pushed you down face first onto the mattress. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, but soon after, she's lifting your hips and sliding into you again. Both of you moan at the feeling of how deep she goes.
"Christ, it doesn't matter how long I fuck you. You're just - so - fucking tight," she grunts in between words, her cock drilling you into oblivion. With every thrust you can hear the bedframe hitting the wall, and you can't help the pitiful noises that leave your mouth.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum," You rasp out. A sharp slap on your ass makes you whimper as you feel it begin to sting.
"No, shit, hold it in," Natasha warns. You feel the pressure of her body move on top of you. The piercings on her breasts rub against your back with each powerful thrust, and her arm moves underneath your neck to hold you tightly.
Natasha grunts in your ear as she pounds into you, letting out a moan when she feels your slick cunt tighten around her length. "I'm almost there, baby. Are you gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock?"
You nod the best you can in her tight grip, only able to get out a "Yes," in between gasps.
"You feel so good, Y/N. You want me to cum inside you? Fuck- I wanna fill up your tight little pussy so bad..." She groans against you and her words send you over the edge.
"Oh god, Nat! Please fill me up, please," you beg her, and just the thought of it is enough to let go. Your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your core.
Natasha moans loudly as she feels you coating her cock with your cum, and she can no longer hold back. "Fuck- Y/N!" She groans and you whine as you feel her hot load spurting inside of you, her cock twitching as she slows her movements. "Take every.. last.. drop.." She pants as she thrusts a few more times.
The two of you stay like that for a while, her cock inside you as she stills above you. Your head rests against her arm as you attempt to catch your breath. When she removes herself slowly, and you wince at the soreness and empty feeling. Natasha lays next to you and you turn on your side to face her.
"Hi," she chuckles at the exhausted features on your face.
"You just fucked the life out of me and you're going to say... 'hi' ?" You laugh, suprised to see a blush on the strong womans cheeks as she laughs along with you. Your hand reaches out, resting on her stomach and tracing the lines of her tattoos again.
After the two of you clean yourselves up, you begin to dress yourself, feeling her eyes on you as you pull your shirt over your head.
"You don't have to go, you know. I'm not like that," she says gently, and you look up to see her pulling on a pair of jeans. You smile at her kind demeanor and walk over to her.
"I have to take my friend home," you say and lean up on your toes to kiss her cheek. She has to bend down for you to reach her lips, but she doesn't complain.
"Well, maybe I can take you out sometime," Natasha smirks and rests her hands on your waist. You nod as you look up to her.
"I would love that.." You reply honestly, wanting nothing more than to get to know her and count the endless tattoos that cover her body.
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maririna · 1 month
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✧˚ · .Cat Got Your Tongue?
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ Dr. Ratio x Reader
> In which you bring home a stray.
Word Count: 1.7k
Mari's Note: So I had this dream with him and a cat and I felt compelled to write something with it lol. Surprisingly, it came out sorta cute than I thought <3
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
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"No. Absolutely not, I would not agree to such a proposal."
"Aww, why not?" You raise its paw waving it as if saying hello towards a certain grumpy lover while you support the feline with your free hand, keeping it close to your chest. "I think it'll be beneficial to keep it."
Minutes prior to your arrival, you had overheard high pitched whines directing from a secluded alleyway that was surrounded by stagnant puddles as a result of the dreary rain that just occurred.
Discovering the source, you were met with a surprising sight of a cat in a box, finding solace in the warmth of a battered newspaper, eyes wide and seemingly clueless from the situation it was in. You ofcourse had fallen in love and before you came to your senses, you were already in front of the door with said cat.��
It's rather unusual for you to make a grandiose request to Veritas, being satisfied with what you have and had been given, you are never used to asking for anything more. Perhaps it was intuition that struck you and you decided to stick with it.
"What a preposterous idea. I do not need some creature's mouth to feed." Veritas sighs, his hand rubbing his forehead. "Such a despicable thing would have the potential to create chaos and disruption to my work and research."
You raise your eyebrows, "Oh? Who said you'll take care of it? I'll fully take responsibility."
"Please?" You press, "The poor thing must have been starving and besides, we need a friend at home." 
"Good grief, have you even acknowledged the fact that the Felis catus species possess only an average IQ of 2?" He sighs as you shoot him a pleading gaze, the cat mewling in your arms, unaware of the doctor's insult.
With a hard look, he huffs and finally gives in. 
"Fine, only if you were to provide adequate training, necessities, complete supervision and most significantly, establish proper behavior, I may allow your preposition. However!" he halts. "If it interferes with my research and our house conditions, it's out."
You cheer, scurrying your feet to give a peck on his cheek, following with a stretch of your arms for the cat to do the same except it was met with a palm of his hand. "Oh no, no. Not the animal." 
You wont lie, having a new family to the household made things livelier, especially on the days where Veritas had been absent due to the Intelligentsia Guild. The cat had quite a calming effect, you were able to indulge into your work and daily schedule without the rush of anxiety on those same days. With dedicating your free time towards bonding and training the cat, you had also set aside its own space in your humble abode far Veritas's work desk and absolutely further from the intricate stone carvings in the shape of your lover. 
You also discovered that your new companion is a lovely and polite tom cat.
Veritas so far (and so good) did not seem to mind, letting the animal even roam around the living room frequently since it was a portion of the home that contained none of his papers and nor does he seem to mind the soft meows requesting for attention or inquiries of the food bowl being filled.
You are currently settled down on your couch with your darling joined with you. His eyes concentrate at a book on hand, the gentle sound of pages being flipped by the featherlight touches of his fingers fills the room alongside the occasional soft purrs of your feline friend who is nestled comfortably onto your lap. Its rhythmic breathing soothes you as you hum in content, nothing but peace and tranquility envelopes the space.
You were interrupted from your thoughts with the sound of Veritas’s book slam shut.
“Have you gotten accustomed to the new addition to our household? I am not one who engages nor enjoys the affection and sentimentality derived from owning a domesticated animal, however in your case, you seem to say otherwise.”
“Does it seem obvious?” 
You focus on feeling the softness of the cat’s fur as you carefully thread it with your fingers. His ears twitch from your intrusion, eyes shot open like he was not asleep just a second ago, he lets out a yawn, flexing his back into a wide stretch with a flick of a tail. He jumps from your lap to the couch, kneading it. You grin, muttering a totally unapologetic ‘sorry’.
The cat strolls over, a faint purr rumbling from his chest as he begins nuzzling against Veritas's thigh who visibly flinches. You notice his hand almost ready to raise, only to have it actually end up meeting upon the animal’s head which meows in delight, pressing his muzzle to the palm of your significant other’s hand, rubbing against it.
You see him cringe and tense up but you still credit his effort and beam at the sight. To see him be physically affectionate with the animal was unexpected, deep down you assumed he might have disliked the cat. Maybe he is still foreign with the change. 
“I guess so, the cat has been very therapeutic to me if I'm being honest,” you add.
He scoffs, "Although that is something I can never relate to," you don't see it, but his eyes soften a bit. 
A hand rests on top of your hair, "If it refines your cognitive performance and brain activity then I would have no objections and no reason not to accept the animal."
Veritas removes his hand and you almost miss the warmth. "Regardless, if he does not come aligned with my terms and conditions–"
"I know I know, geez. The cat has been nothing but a sweetheart." You cut him off and pout, "Isn't that right...?”
You pause.
“Uhm…”
Your partner raises a brow, "...are you implying you had never designated a name for him until now?"
You sweat, "...I haven't"
"Ridiculous."
"Well, it's hard to think of one!" you retort.
"Nonsense. You had already established a bond with him, although I would not necessarily care but I assumed it would have been natural to issue him a name.”
“You think of one then!” you puff your cheeks.
Veritas places his hand under his chin, absorbed in thought. Wait, Is he actually considering it?
“I would rather not. I am in no way having the slightest care over it as I deem it not crucial.”
You stick a tongue out to him, so much for having the tiniest belief from your heart in him. You can't help but deflate, feeling dejected that he doesn't fully welcome the cat as you expected.
For the next few days, you have been brainstorming, stubbornly attempting to choose a name, basking in countless research and books.
"Hmm, I don't like any of these." You groan in exasperation, rummaging through the pages of a book for a potential fit of a name, only to prove you no luck. Cursing under your breath, your face falls flat on the surface of a page.
A name is crucial for a pet, one to call out to, to get attached to, and to bond with, he deserves to have one like every other being. You have asked Veritas for any suggestions or if he can at least help but your actions bear no results.
With heavy defeat, you are forced to drag yourself towards the shelves for the cat's lunch. Geez you can't keep calling him just ‘cat’ forever, can you?
You spot the animal mewling over from the corner of your eye, trying to catch your attention to fulfill his hunger but notice something out of the ordinary.
Huh?
You see that he is wearing...a collar?
He tilts his head curiously, looking at you with doe eyes, meowing once more. You don't recall ever giving him one, only toys and cardboard boxes he seemed to like to conceal himself in all the time.
As you take a closer look, you discover something even more odd. A silver metal hanging around the edges of the leather–a name tag.
Your fingers glaze over the tag, feeling the sturdiness of the material, seeing a word engraved on it.
'Archimedes'.
You couldn't contain the smile that goes up to your face, your heart starts to race with happiness and relief. Only one person would come up with a certain name like this.
It seemed perfect for you, to think that he chose this name seems undoubtedly much like him. 
"Just so you are aware, I had scientifically engineered the collar to be a precise fit for him, including the exact millimeters alongside taking consideration of the feline's anatomy and measurements." 
Following the sound of a voice, you see the man himself, holding a piece of graph paper of what you assume is a detailed illustration of his creation as he carries himself with elegance and confidence.
"I created it to be comfortable, durable, and lightweight. In addition to that, I installed features that can accurately measure his vitals, from heartbeat to temperature with a built-in system that will notify us if there exists any malfunctions to his vitals."
As much as you are filled with joy and gratitude you couldn’t help but feel the need to go for the tease. 
"Oh? I thought you didn't want to keep him? Hm?" your tone is mischievous but playful.
You feign being in deep thought, resting a thumb underneath your chin. "Why is there a collar in him which by the way was specifically made for him by you and named him yourself if you wanted to get rid of him oh so badly?" 
"Research indicates having a feline cultivates a productive space for effective studying. I am simply experimenting with Archimedes. It would be favorable in my end to conduct my hypothesis if there is a word for him to respond to." He crosses his arms, his eyes suddenly interested in one of his many statues from the corner of the room.
"Right. Whatever floats your boat.” 
“That is known as buoyancy.”
...this man.
You lightly flick his forehead, trying to stop him from speaking any further as to save yourself from being trapped into another one of his hours-long lectures. 
“You are a dummy, y’know?” Before he could reply, you wrap your arms around him, his body relaxes, a silent invite for you to continue, feeling the tenderness and warmth of his skin. You brushed off strands of purple locks from his face, giving him a loving kiss. 
“Thank you, Veritas."
His eyes refuse to meet yours as he is rendered speechless.
"...Idiot"
"...But honestly, Veritas, you should have just opted for a normal collar."
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The thing about Ice Adolescence being cancelled isn't that it was unexpected. It's the finality of it. There's no hope of a new season, no faint hope that maybe a movie will come out one day, maybe, just maybe. The cancellation of the movie means that this is the end of Yuri on Ice.
At least for me, YOI was one of those shows that you watched an episode or two of and it felt both comfortable and compelling, and then it grabs you by the chin and turns your head towards the screen and doesn't let you go away, and a little voice in your head just goes, "Oh." You hear the theme song and your heart swells. The sounds of skates on the ice ground you in the sport. You look at these two men falling in love and you feel it.
I had a background in figure skating. I was never particularly good, but I spent most of my childhood on the rink every Friday. Watching the series, seeing the movement of their routines and hearing the sounds of the skates and seeing the rinks that looked just like the one I grew up on felt like coming home.
I watched the show at age sixteen on my tiny smart phone in the back of the school library, on an anime pirating website that was somehow not blocked by their wifi. I'd refresh the website over and over, because the episodes were always uploaded during the lunch break, and then me and my little group of queer friends would all huddle together to watch the newest episode. We would cheer and cry and get excited over every development. They kissed and we lost our minds. A few times, the one friend who could drive would take us to the only skating rink half an hour away and I would teach them, helping them size rented skates and go from holding onto to wall to gliding across the rink. I met my current girlfriend for the first time during one of those skating sessions. Viktor and Yuri fell in love thanks to the sport, and I met the woman who's currently napping in the bed next to me thanks to them.
Yuri on Ice was such a formative piece of media for me. It felt like something specifically designed for me, the queer, anime-loving teenager with a background in figure skating, with representation that meant the world to me and such a meaningful depiction of the sport I loved. And with this cancellation, that piece of media comes to an end.
Thank you for everything, Yuri on Ice. Ice Adolescence or not, you'll live on through me, and I'll never forget the impact you had on my life. Goodbye, and know that you really did make history.
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xvysarene · 18 days
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𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕
Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.” Words: ~2.5k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds
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His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.
However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.
As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.
"Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me."
Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.
You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.
“—and you’re here because?”
His voice jolted you out of your reverie.
Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.
You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”
When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him. 
Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.
In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.
“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.
Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. "I thought we had moved beyond the superficial 'I'm fine' responses when asking about each other's well-being."
Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.
“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt 'just fine' after being placed on recuperative leave."
“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.
“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”
As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.
“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.
“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”
He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”
His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.
His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.
“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.
Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.
A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.
Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.
“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.
You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”
His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.
Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.
As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.
“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”
Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself. 
Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.
As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.
He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.
“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.
Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.
"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."
“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.
“He laughed at it until—“ you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”
Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."
The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.
From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.
In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.
Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.
You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.
Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.
Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.
“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”
Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.
Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.
As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”
He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.
"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. "For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day."
Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.
When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.
While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.
And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.
"Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”
You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for."
"I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend."
And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.
"It's getting dark outside, I should head home," you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.
However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.
"I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood," he confessed, voice heavy with regret. "She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together."
Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.
It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.
Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.
"I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted." He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one."
“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”
She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.
Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.
"No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me." He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her."
You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.
“You don’t need to say anything—”
“Zayne—”
“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”
“Zayne, I—”
“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”
"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.
Him beneath you.
As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.
You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.
"God, you really need to shut up sometime," you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.
This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.
With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor. 
He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.
“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.
“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”
When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.
As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.
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clairdelunelove · 3 months
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heart on the court
basketballplayer!itadori yuuji x reader
genre: fluff! (basketball drabble!)
warnings: slight cursing, slightly suggestive?, mentions of injury (not graphic tho!)
synopsis: yuuji's the best on the court. athletic, reliable, and great sportsmanship. unfortunately for you, though, is that he's from the rival school. but suddenly he's spotting you in the crowd and you're patching up his injury. so of course he's getting your number.
a.n. noticed I missed writing about fics surrounding school so I went back to my roots lol. I stumbled across a pic of yuuji in a basketball jersey and felt COMPELLED to write this. so enjoy :3
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literally drooling at the thought of how itadori yuuji, who's on the rival school's basketball team, manages to get your number after the game.
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animated chatter buzzed throughout mobs of students at the promise of this evening’s basketball game. it was supposed to be a friendly match— doubling as a scrimmage so the players had some practice before the strict season games. a time where coaches put in their substitutes to introduce them into the team's dynamic. try out a couple skills, run some drills, and build up morale. but you, along with everyone else, knew what this game ensued when your rival school’s name was posted on the campus’ bulletin board. it wasn’t just your school that was hypervigilant either. word quickly spread that the other school’s roster had their infamous ace on it. known to sway the game’s outcome just by his presence on the court. you had missed the last game, caught up in a club meeting and the fear of missing out tugged at you to attend this time. the game was an event that the entire student population eagerly looked forward to. banners were made, glittery pieces that had some sort of motivational quote plastered on it, confetti was cut, and balloons were blown up to decorate the school’s gymnasium. and, of course, girls’ crafted signs to cheer their boyfriends on during the match. the game was a huge, notable affair that deviated from the school's mundane schedule– and you wouldn’t miss it even if you had to scurry right after film class ended. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who audibly gasps as he steps into your school’s gymnasium. the building is enormous– clean– and students are already occupying a majority of the bleachers. he’s clad in his team’s warm-up gear; branded sports jacket and baggy sweatpants that are ideal for practicing. the male would’ve blended in well if it wasn’t for the sleek headphones around his neck and how he expresses an impressed, “woah.” hand reaching up to push down the hood over his head, he shakes off the remnants of rain that cling onto him and does his best to rub the bottom of his sodden shoes on the entrance’s mat. he expected it to rain. packed an umbrella in the red gym bag slung over his shoulder but couldn’t be bothered to take it out. his teammates weren’t so prepared, however. raising their bags over their heads to stay dry and patting themselves off from the heavy sprinkle. just a small disadvantage from not being the school’s home team. unfortunate that the weather was gloomy for such an anticipated game. though, it doesn’t dim the team’s enthusiasm and the gymnasium’s atmosphere. just encourages the crowd’s ovation when the rival team saunters into the place. “they’re all fired up,” one of yuuji’s teammates remarked with a pleased smirk. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who warms-up with heavy music blasting through his headphones and a basketball in his hand. dropped his bag off near the sidelines before rummaging for the sweatband he usually wears. it’s a plain black fabric that helps keep his unruly hair away from his face. but really, the girls’ can’t help but notice how the sweatband emphasizes his dark undercut when he pushes it through his blushy hair. attractive in a way that captivates not only his school’s following but also the home team’s admirers. compensation, as some would call it, for watching the game. yet, yuuji never views it that way. puts himself in the zone while the rest of the team idle around; they’re likely found chatting with friends or winking at the girls on the bleachers. he strides on the court, politely waves to his school’s traveling fans before habitually dribbling the ball beside him. practices a couple layups and free throws to get the blood pumping. isn’t a huge fanatic of the attention that he gains from how precise his movements are but he’s aware that’s the price of being the team’s ace. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who, from the corner of his eye, spots you scrambling into the building. you freeze immediately. eyes widening at the sheer amount of people that crowded around the doors; most were dawdling while waiting for friends in order to grab a seat together. you pressed the stack of film books closer to your chest to endure the feverish pushing that came with the thrill of the evening game. wasn’t anything worth panicking about. just a couple elbows and shoulder nudging until a figure parts the loud crowd. “need some help?” unbeknownst to you, the rival school’s ace separated the sea of students to reach you and provide some assistance. well-mannered, polite, or considerate ought to be his middle name. you blink, speechless because you’re face to face with the attractive male. even has a pretty voice to match. yuuji allows you to blatantly stare– forever the patient person he is while grinning abashedly. “‘gonna take that as a yes,” he chuckles and raises his voice so you can hear him over the noise, “follow me!” ends up walking you to the slot of empty space where his duffel bag resides. his teammates toss a sleazy whistle over their shoulder which compels yuuji to mutter, “shut up, man,” before ushering you along. he’s still in a good mood by default. while accompanying him, you’re unable to refrain yourself from gawking. he’s all sharp features that melt into boyish charm when he interacts with you. “good movie, by the way,” he points to the book in your hand. “oh!” you glance at the film’s cover before smiling, “right? I finished it over the weekend and really liked it.” upon noticing that you’re chatting with him, he promptly slides off his headphones so he can hear you clearer. it’s a seemingly insignificant gesture but it warms your heart nonetheless. having genuine courtesy to others was utterly irresistible to you. the guys at your school didn’t hold a candle to him. begs you to wonder; who was he?
basketballplayer!yuuji who waits until you’re situated before hollering out a quick, “later!” dribbles back on court to join the team’s practice drills before the match and only shoots you a grin when he notices you’re staring. doesn’t bank on gaining anything from you– he’s authentically chivalrous. you, on the other hand, are absolutely intrigued by the blushy haired male from the rival school. wide, glimmering eyes on him as he’s zeroed in on passing the ball. the crowd’s clamor is only heightened when the warning whistle shrieks to indicate that– finally– it’s game time. yuuji shuffles over to pack his headphones and sweatband. ends up slicking his spiky hair behind his ears and earns a couple squeals of delight. he sheds off his jacket and sweatpants next; so he’s clad in the team’s official dark uniform. his sleeveless jersey cuts into a deep v-neck to unveil pretty collarbones that have you squinting to admire. even his baggy shorts can’t conceal the strength of his physique. as expected, he’s all lean muscle that overshadows anyone else on the court. yuuji shoots a good-natured thumbs up to your school’s players, places his hands on his thighs, and does a couple stagnant stretches before tip off. and gosh– can he play. remarkably, he’s everywhere on the court. rebounding shots, gaining points from layups, and taking the responsibility of every free throw. it’s impressive because he’s deemed as average height for a basketball player. yet, he’s the power forward that teams fantasize about. zips up and down the court without a hint of fatigue. the audience is glued to his every move too, becoming uncontrolled whenever he has possession of the ball. whistles and cheers whenever he manages his infamous dunk. hangs off the rim with a single hand while grinning gleefully at the crowd. bright eyes blazing with the kind of adrenaline a person only experiences from being unrivaled in their expertise. you’re even reveling in the ambience. cheering wholeheartedly for him (a player that’s not from your school) but sheepishly dialing back your enthusiasm when yuuji glances in your direction. 
basketballplayer!yuuji who’s unstoppable on the court. so unstoppable, in fact, that the only time he’s subbed out is when he’s on the receiving end of an offensive foul. catches a solid body-slam while he’s turned around so he scrapes his knee as an attempt to steady himself. the audience buzzes with distress when yuuji slowly picks himself back up. a teammate claps him on the back as he limps to the sideline bench at the next opportunity. he doesn’t seem like he’s in pain, though. cheerily waves and says, “hey!” when he recognizes you in the crowd. fortunately, the seat he found for you was perfect because now he’s situated a bleacher row below you. the coach hands him a damp towel which he uses to apply pressure on his bleeding knee. pressing the rag down to control the minor injury, he whirls around to ask you, “enjoying the game?” a gleam in his stare conveys a hope of praise that you’ll offer him. “I am!” you cup your mouth with a hand so you’re audible over the crowd, “you’re great!” lifting an arm to wipe off the sweat on his forehead, he smiles broadly, “am I?” and the tone in his voice reveals genuine curiosity. he’s not attempting to coax more compliments out of you, no, yuuji’s real intent is to keep conversing with you. you’re nodding right away, head bobbing so vigorously that he ends up chuckling. “how’s your knee? that was a nasty fall.” you point to where the rag has splotches of crimson on it. “fine,” he smoothly replies with a casual shrug to ease the worry written on your face, “I’ve dealt with worse.” then, you reach into your backpack to hand him a bandaid while sheepishly avoiding his gaze, “I have this if you want to use it.” the patch is a soft-hued color and has an animated character cheering on it. yuuji decides it’s cute– like you. his cheeks are set aflame as his slender fingers work to press it over his scraped knee. pats it for good measure to demonstrate that it’s better. you made it better. “thanks!” ill-timed, his coach advises him that he’ll be back on the court soon so he extends his legs to stretch the muscles. he’s guided to the substitution area but before he hops back on the court, he turns to call out to you, “will I see you after the game?”
basketballplayer!yuuji who’s reduced to clumsy pauses and splutters when he finds you waiting for him after his game. it was a formidable match but his flawless performance just gave his team the upper-hand. the crowd was satisfied, though. buzzing with compliments for yuuji and his athleticism– the usual revelation that causes his supporters to steadily grow. slinging a towel over his shoulder, he grabs his duffel bag, takes out his umbrella, and tosses in a couple praising remarks to his teammates before ambling over to the gymnasium’s exit. he’s in a grand mood; the crowd was wild, his teammates/coach were pleased with him, and the endorphins consuming him after the spectacular game were pumping through him. yet, the rival school’s star player literally stumbles on his feet when he finds you patiently waiting for him. you’re all soft, delicate features that are only enhanced in the building’s fluorescence. a beauty that he’d be damned to remember if he saw you passing through his school’s hallways. although, his favorite part of you was the sparkling smile on your glossy lips when you caught a glimpse of him. blindly, he makes his way over to you. and boy is he a stuttering mess. red-faced and sweaty, yuuji manages to get your name and immediately mentions that it matches you. “it’s pretty,” he clarifies when you tilt your head in skepticism. overall, the two of you are interrupted multiple times (with students asking for pictures or chatting post-game with him) and he’s hastily apologizing for the inconvenience each time. dark brows shooting up, he’s the epitome of panic as his gaze darts to the line of people waiting for his regard. “sorry!” yuuji sheepishly bows his head while explaining, “it’s usually not, uh, like this after games–” and his hand reaches out to guide you to a spot that’s less crowded but you’re giggling at how ruffled he is about the whole ordeal. “they seem to like you a lot,” you bring up as his hand gently closes over your wrist after leading you to a place outside of the building. it's sprinkling, droplets catching on your lashes and he hastily opens his umbrella for you. slowly, you’re drawn closer to him and the warmth he exudes. your fingertips move to graze over his calloused knuckles, a spellbound guise in your gaze. he chokes on his breath. “how about you?” he inquires, unexpectedly meek and tender now that the two of you are alone, “I mean, how do you feel about me?” and it’s safe to say that when you slip your number into his hand, the adoration is mutual. 
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ode2rin · 6 months
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“it is because of your negligence that we're stuck here with each other,” you spat at him, the words laced with a bitter edge, and rin couldn't ignore the way you emphasized each word as if it were a weapon.
and from the way his chest was contracting against his ribcage, maybe they were indeed sharp knives out to get him. 
rin felt the weight of your accusation pressed against his chest, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings the two of you once exchanged beneath the sheets of love, where “i love you's” had been met with smiles, and the world had seemed so full of promise.
but now, things had taken a dark turn, and neither of you could pinpoint when or how it had all gone wrong. you wouldn't tell him– wouldn't let him turn things around.
rin's anger flared, his words escaping through clenched teeth. "my negligence? you're really pinning this on me, again?"
your eyes locked onto his, a warning in their depths. "don't go there."
he pushed on, relentless, “go where? you know i'm right. you always pin things against me.”
you didn’t respond , but you looked at rin in a way that made him want to fall on his knees and beg you — beg you to just tell him what more he can do for you to stop looking at him like this.
only if it was that easy, no — because it was a look of indifference, a look in your eyes that’s telling him none of his words were right anymore, and everything he says had not been good enough to attempt to fix things.
“let's just tell them we're done and leave this shitty reunion,” rin suggested with a note of finality.
“i should have known you'd suggest something as selfish as you,” you countered, shaking your head in disbelief. “this isn't about us. so don't you dare ruin this too, itoshi rin.”
the word ‘too’ hung in the air, a relentless echo that reverberated through the room, each syllable like a blade, cutting into rin's heart. it felt like a never-ending loop, a supercut of all he had lost and ruined - nights filled with piercing arguments, when your voices were raised until your throats ached, and the bed you had once shared had become a cold, lonely expanse. just how much of you had he shattered beyond the point of no return?
the ensuing silence was thick and suffocating, it enveloped the room, creating an atmosphere so tense you could almost hear the creaking of the floorboards under its weight. 
two old friends, once lovers, now trapped in a forced reunion getaway, compelled to act like a couple when their love had long since turned to ashes.
perhaps it was pride that you couldn’t admit it was partly your fault too. you should’ve told your friends about it the moment he took his things out of your shared apartment. there had been numerous chances, yet you clung to false hope, bargaining for a lost cause, and desperately wishing for a change that was never meant to be.
foolish. that's what it felt like - a foolish hope. you knew it was over the moment he couldn't bring himself to respond to your declaration that you were done.
“uhm, guys?”
as if on cue, isagi's head appeared at the slightly ajar door of your designated room,
“is everything fine? the tour guide is already downstairs, so…” he trailed off, his gaze shifting between you and rin, sensing the tension.
“we're—” rin began to say, but you immediately cut him off.
“everything's fine! just one of rin's moods,” you chimed in, forcing a smile as you turned towards isagi. “right, baby?” you said, addressing rin with a strained cheerfulness.
isagi chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the emotional maelstrom in the room. “must be it, then. i don't know how you dealt with that for five years, y/n.”
and there, amidst the oblivious laughter, it struck you. 
five years.
“yeah,” you admitted with a tinge of sadness, “five years of loving him would make you immune to it,” you thought, the words choking in your throat.
isagi, still in the dark, laughed lightly. “i guess so. we'll wait for you downstairs.” and with that, he left you alone with the relentless weight of your unresolved feelings.
for a moment, you and rin remained silent, but when you met his gaze, it was as though he wanted to ask a hundred different questions to comprehend what you meant about being immune to it.
but you beat him to the punch. “we'll tell them on our last day, and then pray to god that we never have to talk to each other again.” with that, you left rin to grapple with his thoughts, leaving the room heavy with the unspoken truth.
and right then and there, it struck him that the answer to when and how things had unraveled for both of you had been staring rin in the face all along. it was just that he wasn't ready to see it.
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note. and i offer you: an excerpt from an idea i scraped :D
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writingdotcoffee · 6 months
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The "Alt" NaNoWriMo Challenge
I'm a big fan of NaNoWriMo and the energy the event breathes into the writing community. Hundreds of thousands of people start working on their novels at the same time. Lots of people share their progress and cheer each other on. Several now-famous authors have started their best-selling novels during NaNo over the years.
That said, it's not for everyone. Writing 50,000 words per month is a serious commitment. Doing it alongside school or work is no joke. In fact, most people who sign up don't finish. According to these stats, only 1-2 out of every 10 participants complete the challenge.
I've never joined NaNoWriMo myself. I'm a slow writer, and I know that I would burn out. Instead, I set a different writing-related challenge for myself every November.
In 2018, I started reading one short story every day. It turned into a regular habit, and I ended up reading hundreds of short stories over the following few months.
Last year, I wanted to build a 30-day writing streak. In the end, I wrote for 232 days in a row. 2023 became the most productive year of my writing life by far with over 250,000 words written.
This year, I will be doing something similar, and I want to invite you to come along for the ride.
The Idea of "AltNaNo"
The idea of finishing a novel in a month seems outrageous to most people. That's what makes it so compelling. It's like standing at the foot of a snowcapped mountain with a rope and a couple of ice picks. The challenge itself is inspiring.
The AltNaNo challenge is the exact opposite. The goal is as small as possible on purpose. The focus isn't to achieve this massive feat but to squash all excuses and merely start writing.
You may not be able to write 50,000 words in a month. But almost everyone can find 15 minutes to write every day.
The Challenge
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The goal is simple: Write for at least 15 minutes every day in November.
Writing 100 words and calling it a day after 15 minutes is a success.
Spending longer and writing 500 words is a success.
Wrestling with a difficult scene for 15 minutes and writing only a single sentence is a success.
Spending 15 minutes trying to write after a long day and not producing a single word is a success, too.
Be a tortoise. We all know how the story goes.
How to Join
I've set up daily challenges for the first week in Writing Analytics, if you wanted to join us there:
Day 1/30 ✅
Day 2/30 ✅
Day 3/30 ✅
Day 4/30 ✅
Day 5/30 ✅
Day 6/30 ✅
Day 7/30 ✅
I'll be posting daily updates on the blog as well.
PS: If you'd like to learn more about developing a writing habit, check out this free course I launched a few weeks ago.
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sssammich · 1 month
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fic: come what may
a/n: this is a continuation of THIS post which was inspired by the fanart. please give that fanart some love if you haven't, it was so very compelling to me and that's why we're here.
anyway read the first part and then come back to this lol
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Lena retreated to the single stall washroom after graciously thanking everyone around her for their applause and cheering. In the quiet of the small space, she was able to think about the last five minutes of her life. 
It had been a week since she had spoken last with the caped hero, the word ‘villain’ rang in Lena’s ears still to this day. 
It had stung her, lanced through her more like. But in this world, she had no choice but to keep moving forward if only to survive. She knew that reintegrating Lex back into her life was a risk, but what was the alternative? To let back in the one person she’d trusted with so much of herself only to be the same one who broke Lena irreparably? It figured that they would be one in the same. Supergirl had a habit of being duplicitous, after all. 
Despite all of these thoughts, the dance had been more than she anticipated. For a brief moment in time, her world narrowed to the size of the dance floor when she and her former best friend twirled and glided across the space, held close to one another, swaying to the beat of the song.
Until Supergirl called out to her, the tenor of her voice bringing up a world long gone, the time together but a distant memory. Only to then ask her, “what’s your plan here, Lena?” 
The illusion broke through and shattered all around them, and her eyes darkened, her heart hardened. 
“You will never trust me,” she announced finally when she looked at Kara’s beautiful face, her equally beautiful blue eyes. Now, an enemy. “I can see it in your eyes.” 
She pulled away and turned, not sure she could look at that face again, anymore. Still, she would admit that it was enough consolation to see Supergirl on edge, to put her on her red-booted back foot.
She recalled turning her head slightly and caught enough of Supergirl's departure from the middle of the dance floor and into the evening sky. It gave her some satisfaction, but not nearly enough to placate the ache in her chest. 
Lena stared at her reflection; her makeup remained impeccably applied, impeccably in place despite the exertion of their dancing. The heat of Kara’s hands lingered all over her body, the warmth of those hands pressed into her, holding her in the illusion of safety as the song notes progressed. Her former best friend was clumsy in her movements, at least at first. It would have delighted Lena plenty to see Supergirl stumble her way through her movements. Yet, she held her own and led the two of them throughout the dance floor in an acceptable tango. On any other day, any other moment, she would have been charmed by it, let herself be led around so long as they stayed in each other's arms.
But those moments were no longer accessible to them. 
She returned to her guests and maneuvered through the compliments and conversations, but every now and again, she glanced up into the open sky. Just in case.
In the end, Lex was defeated and rid of once and for all. The details of it were fuzzy to her now, but none of it mattered. Simply that he was gone from her life for good, that he would no longer be a terror to anyone and everyone, to those she loved. 
Once again, however, she was left to pick up what remained of his ruinous rampage, if only to be surrounded by something beyond her isolation. 
It was just a few scant weeks ago that she’d reached a truce with Kara and her Superfriends (nevermind that she’d once thought of them as her own friends, as well). Now here she stood weeks later: alone. 
Lena had run out of options or excuses and finally sought out help from Kara without hope or expectation for true reconciliation or forgiveness, from either of them. They’d drawn their lines from one another so long ago, she’d considered them carved in stone. 
Now she stood on her empty balcony overlooking the city just after the sun had set and the sky was now engulfed in dark blue. 
Without a brother, a mother, a father. An orphan, twice over. It seemed that she was destined to live in solitude. They say no man was an island, yet perhaps Luthors were. 
She gazed at the last remnants of the setting sun across the horizon, not giving away that she heard the sound of a cape billowing at the far end of the balcony. She made no move to say or do anything, simply took a sip of the amber liquid in her glass. If Supergirl had anything to say, then Lena was not going to stop her. 
“How are you?” Kara finally said, after minutes trickled past them. 
She scoffed, unable to help herself. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Kara hovered outside of the balcony. She simply took another sip of her drink. 
Kara, never one to leave well enough alone, moved so that her feet touched the ground and she stood somewhere behind her. Lena closed her eyes and took a swig of all of her remaining drink. 
“You’re trespassing.” 
“I know.” 
“I can have you arrested.” 
“That’s fine.” 
“What do you want from me?” 
“A dance.” 
Lena quickly turned around, Kara standing only a few feet away, her arm outstretched. She glanced up and met blue eyes, an ocean of patience. 
Resigned, Lena unfurled the fist by her side and placed it in the offered hand. She took a step forward until their bodies were almost flush with one another, Kara’s other hand placed on the small of her back. An easy fit between them. A thought that Lena shoved into a box for rumination and reflection later on. 
“There’s no music,” she commented needlessly even as she put her free hand on Kara’s shoulder, her nerves manifesting in lightly scratching the fabric of the supersuit under her fingertips. 
“There’s always music.” Just then, Kara pulled her phone from a hidden compartment behind her and pressed the screen until soft music started playing. It was the final duet in Moulin Rouge between the two leads, where she and Kara shed a tear or two when they watched it in the past—a distant lifetime ago. They were now extraordinarily different people from those versions of themselves. 
“This musical was a tragedy.” 
The superhero shrugged, her eyes focused past Lena’s head. “I know.” 
“Are you trying to tell me something?” 
Kara eventually returned her attention until their eyes met and Lena waited. She watched as Kara took a deep breath and offered Lena a cautious smile, resignation plastered on her own face. “I’m trying to tell you a lot of somethings.”
She studied Kara’s face, wanted to glean any kind of information from her features alone, but Kara betrayed nothing. “Start with one.” 
“I’ve been practicing.” When she furrowed her brows in confusion, Kara clarified by twirling Lena out of her embrace only to pull her back into her orbit once again. This time without bumbling through any of the movements nor without a stutter in her steps.  
The move surprised Lena enough to take her breath away, her senses suddenly alight as she considered what any of it meant. When? How? Why?
“Tell me another,” she whispered, her hands grasping tighter onto Kara just as the song started to swell. 
“I want to start over.” 
Lena stopped in her tracks so Kara did, too. Distantly, Lena observed that neither released their holds of one another.
“Why? We’ll only hurt each other.” 
“Maybe. Probably,” Kara supplied before tugging Lena back closer to her and swayed side to side to encourage Lena to do the same. “But life without you in it is infinitely worse, I think. So if it’s all the same to you, I’ll take my chances.” 
Lena’s heart felt like it was getting catapulted across time and space. And maybe it was actually getting catapulted along with every sway she took with Kara. Still, she couldn’t help but push. “Even with a villain?” 
Kara grimaced slightly before flashing an apologetic smile. “Sure, Lena. Even with a villain.” 
“I was one, you know,” she offered, watching for Kara’s response. She was complicit, had gotten her own hands dirty. She owned up to that. 
“I know.” But Kara simply shrugged and brought them closer. “Believe it or not, I’ve been one, too. You’re not exactly very special in that department, Lena.” 
A small laugh that bubbled out of her caught her off guard, and Kara smiled at her before spinning her away and back together again until Lena hid her face against the crook of Kara’s neck until the song finally ended. 
They parted from each other, Kara taking a step back until she was a few feet away, her hands clasped in front of her. 
“Thanks for the dance,” Kara said. 
“You’ve gotten better.” 
“I appreciate that. It means the practice has been paying off.” As if nodding to herself, Kara gave her a smile and began to turn so as to take off into the night sky, but Lena stopped her. 
“Tell me one more,” she urged, realizing she didn’t want their interaction to end quite yet. 
Kara then looked over her shoulder. “Can I come back tomorrow?” 
“If you’d like.” 
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” 
“I’ll hold you to it.” 
Kara’s body twisted so she was looking at Lena more fully. “Goodnight, Lena.” 
“Goodnight, Kara.” 
Lena watched as she took off into the sky, disappearing into the night. She’d stayed out there for a little while longer, the heat of her drink coursing through her veins while the moment between them warmed her against the cool breeze that passed through. 
Nothing had yet been fixed, and there was a long road ahead of them. But something in her caged heart had loosened, allowing her to breathe again. That was a start.
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