#drabble submission

[nariism]

ೃ⁀➷ MY LOVE, MINE ALL MINE ★

a/n: fluff!! neuvillette being a touch starved loser (affectionate) + lots of terms of endearment. happy belated neuvillette day! may all neuvillette wanters be neuvillette havers ≧◡≦

Neuvillette can't stand coming home if not into your arms.

The deafening silence of a sleeping home drives him mad. It used to be welcomed after his terribly loud days. Now only serves to remind him of the millennium he spent alone, of the heartbreak he had to endure with no one to hold him, and of the growing emptiness within his heart long before he knew you.

It's unlike him to come home so late, but duty calls and as the Iudex of Fontaine he must go wherever summoned.

For days he has come home well into the latest hours of the night, sliding off his shoes in the darkness of the hall and allowing the silence to swallow him up whole. Five unbearably long days of missing your smile greeting him at the door, hands all over his face and squeezing his cheeks until he nudges them away in lieu of kissing you hello.

He expects tonight to be the same. It's so late that there was not a single soul wandering the streets of the city, no one awake to witness the very tired, very cranky Chief Justice.

You always find a way to defy his expectations.

The hall is quiet when he cracks open the front door. Crushing loneliness swells in his chest and sinks into the pit of his stomach when he realizes that you must have gone to bed long ago, as anyone sane would do. But then there's a click, followed by a small flame dancing in the dark.

You ignite an array of candles one by one, each additional glow illuminating your beautiful face in warm light. Neuvillette can't stop the hitching of his breath, nor the confusion knitted through his brows.

"What are you doing awake?"

You know he doesn't mean to scold you. Soft laughter fills his ears as you saunter over to him slowly. Realization crashes down on him as you approach, allowing him to see closer what has kept you up.

"Happy birthday, my love."

It's so late that midnight passed hours ago. He hadn't even realized amongst all the chaos of his work that the 17th had come and gone, making way for his birthday.

Only you would remember. It was a talent you had, memorizing every detail about him that sometimes even he lost track of.

("Neuvillette, dear, I picked up some dark roast on the way home today." He didn't even realize he had run out.

"Welcome home, I made ragout!" He wasn't aware he was craving it until you brought it up.

"Do you want this?" It's the last cookie in the bag, saved especially for him because you know it's from his favourite bakery in town.)

He leans in and blows out his candles, eyes never leaving yours as he blinks at you slowly. You look so beautiful even now, in the dimly moonlit hall. Darkness envelops your bodies again and yet he never tears his gaze away. Not even for a moment.

"Now put the cake down, please."

"Hm?" Your head tilts, clearly confused by his request.

"So I can hold you," he quickly explains, fingers itching at his sides because of how much he aches to hug you.

You gently set the cake down on the entrance table before you get scooped into a warm embrace, pressed snuggly to his chest as he memorizes the outline of your body against his once more.

"I've missed you, my dear," he says, face burrowed into the crook of your neck.

"It's only been a couple days," you laugh, and then remind him: "I see you every day at lunch."

"No, this is different." He pulls away slightly, forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. There's something in there— vulnerability and love all mixed into a beautiful purple harmony. "I miss coming home into your arms after long days," he admits.

"Oh, love," you breathe, reaching up to cup his face the way he's so used to. "Things will settle down again soon."

His eyes close as he savours your presence, soaking up all the affection you're giving him in his moment of weakness. You've always spoiled him.

"I suppose so," he agrees, a smile finally settling on his lips. Your thumb runs along it, tracing the curve of his happiness. There's a beat of silence before you open your mouth again.

"What did you wish for?" You ask curiously, voice growing quieter as you lean in to kiss him. And the answer he gives comes naturally.

Neuvillette has always wished for things he read about in novels; imaginary promises of treasure and desire and fame, sealed with the wispy smoke of blown out birthday candles. He isn't even sure if he has ever actually wanted any of those. But as he looks at you, with the slow beating of his heart and the brushing of your lips against him, he can't think of a single thing he could want more than this.

"I did not wish for anything," he tells you honestly, giving your waist a squeeze. "I already have everything I could ever want."

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[pinkboaclub]

More Than Enough

Summary: You and Harry are best friends, when he's too involved in his school work, you offer to help him take a break.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: smut, nerdrry, college Harry and reader, virgin Harry, nervous Harry, slight sub? if you squint hard enough

Harry sat hunched over his desk, surrounded by piles of textbooks and notes. His glasses sat on the tip of his nose, the glow from his laptop reflecting off the lenses as he typed away furiously.

Suddenly, interrupting the tapping of his computer keyboard, there was a knock at the door. Harry glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. Who could it be at this hour? He cautiously approached the door and peered through the peephole, his breath catching in his throat when he saw Y/N's tear-stained face. He quickly unlocked the door, allowing her to stumble in, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Hey, are you okay?" Harry asked with genuine concern, taking in her disheveled appearance. Her normally bubbly demeanor was nowhere to be found.

Y/N sniffled, her voice trembling. "Jake...he was such a jerk again," she said, her words heavy with emotion.

"What happened?" Harry questioned, his heart sinking as he led her to his bed, where she immediately hugged him.

"It's nothing. I just need to get away," she murmured into his chest, her breath hot and shaky. The weight of her body against his was comforting, and Harry wrapped his arms around her instinctively. They sat in silence for a few moments, her trembling gradually subsiding as she took deep breaths. The room was quiet except for the occasional sniffle from Y/N. Harry felt her warmth and the softness of her hair under his chin.

"You can talk to me, you know," he offered gently.

Y/N pulled away and looked at him, her eyes glistening. "We had sex last night," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "And he was just...an asshole afterward."

The words hit Harry like a ton of bricks, a pang of jealousy shooting through his chest. He had known for a while that she and Jake were intimate, but hearing it from her lips was something else entirely. He had had a crush on her since they were children, and the thought of her being with someone else was like a knife twisting in his heart. He had always been too shy to tell her how he truly felt, afraid of losing their friendship or making things awkward.

Y/N noticed the sudden tension in Harry's body and paused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come here so late," she said, her voice thick with apology. "It's just that he didn't care about me at all. He didn't even give me any aftercare. When I brought it up he started screaming at me...and I didn't want to be alone."

"You can always come to me," Harry replied, his voice tight. He didn't know what to say next. He had never been in a relationship, or had sex with anyone, so his knowledge on advice to give was limited.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Could I...spend the night here?" she asked tentatively. "I just want to hang out and forget about everything for a while."

"Of course," Harry responded without hesitation, his heart racing at the thought of her being so close to him all night. He knew he had a big project due at the end of the week, but he'd manage, for her. "I just have to work on a project, but I'll be really quiet. You can sleep if you want."

Y/N managed a small smile, wiping away the last of her tears. "Thanks, Harry," she whispered, sliding into one of his oversized t-shirts that she found in his drawer. It smelled faintly of him, and she liked it. She slipped under the covers, leaving a space for him.

A couple hours went by and Harry had gotten to a point where he felt too tired to continue working.

He walked to the bathroom to prepare for bed. When he returned, Y/N was curled up, fast asleep. He set the water on his nightstand and took a moment to admire her. Her hair spilled across the pillow, and her bare legs were tangled in the sheets. Her face was serene in slumber, all traces of the pain from earlier gone. He felt a surge of protectiveness towards her.

He gently took off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand, and slid into bed next to her. Her eyes remained closed, but she snuggled closer, as if she knew he was there.

For a while, Harry simply watched her sleep. The soft rise and fall of her chest, the gentle way she breathed, it was mesmerizing. He had seen her in various states of dress before, but there was something so vulnerable about her now that made his chest ache. Her beauty was not just in her looks, but in the way she made him feel. The way she looked at him with those big eyes, the way she laughed at his nerdy jokes, the way she sought comfort in his arms. He knew he loved her, and the realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

For the next couple days, she stayed in his dorm, rambling to him as he worked on his project. He didn't mind at all, he loved hearing her voice as he worked.

Y/N pouted, sitting up on the bed. She leaned back on her elbows, the t-shirt she was wearing riding up to expose her smooth stomach. Harry's eyes followed the movement, and he felt his cheeks grow hot.

"You're no fun when you're working," she said with a teasing smile. "How about a little break?"

Harry sighed, glancing over at her. "I really need to finish this," he replied, his eyes lingering on her.

Y/N giggled, rolling her eyes playfully. "Come on, Harry," she said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and walking over to him. "Just a couple minutes, please? You need a little break."

When she climbed off the bed, Harry couldn't help but steal glances at her as she approached. She leaned over his chair, her chest brushing against his shoulder, her perfume filling his nostrils.

"Come on, Harry," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear, "just five minutes."

Her hand slid onto his shoulder, gently massaging the tension out of his muscles. Harry's eyes darted to the screen, then back to her. She leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his arm as she traced her fingers along his neck. He swallowed hard, trying to focus on his work.

"You're so tense," she murmured, her voice like a siren's song. "Let me help."

Her fingers moved down his neck, tracing the line of his collarbone before sliding down to his chest, her touch light and teasing. Harry's heart thumped in his chest, his eyes darting from the screen to her face. She looked down at him, her gaze filled with mischief and something more...something that made his stomach do flips.

"You're always so worried about school," she said, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. "You need to relax, Harry."

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks flushing deeper. "I'm fine, really."

Y/N leaned closer, her eyes twinkling. "No, Harry, you're not fine. You're stressed to the max," she said, her voice a silky caress. "You know what you need?"

"What?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Y/N's smile grew more playful. "Some mind blowing sex" she whispered, her eyes dancing with mischief. "It's time you had some fun, let off some steam."

Harry's cheeks turned a deep shade of red as he stuttered, trying to form a coherent response. "I-I've got it under control," he said, his voice barely audible.

Y/N's hand didn't stop its gentle exploration of his chest, her touch sending electrifying sparks through his body. She leaned closer, her lips dangerously near his ear. "I'm sure I could find someone who'd love to take care of you," she whispered, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Panic shot through Harry like a lightning bolt. He had always feared this moment, the moment when Y/N realized his feelings and set him up with one of her friends. It would be humiliating, a clear sign that she didn't return his feelings. His heart raced as he tried to think of a way to divert her attention back to his work, anything to keep her from setting him up with someone else.

Before he could form a coherent thought, she took the matter into her own hands. She straddled his lap, her legs curling around his waist as she sat down, her eyes never leaving his. "Or, I could help you relax," she murmured, her voice softer than a whisper. "I find it hard to believe you're not roaming around campus, being a ladies man."

Her warmth engulfed him, and Harry's breath hitched in his throat. He could feel the heat from her body, the softness of her thighs pressed against his own. His body seemed to have a mind of its own.

"You know I'm not..." Harry stuttered, shelled her eyes, her hands moving to his chest.

"I know girls are throwing themselves at you...I think you just don't see it," Y/N whispered, gently bringing a hand up to his cheek.

Her touchsent a spark through his body. He closed his eyes, his breathing ragged as he felt her lean in closer, her soft curves pressing against him. His heart hammered in his chest, the reality of the moment slowly setting in.

"Is this okay?" she whispered, her breath warm against his mouth. Y/N's eyes searched his face, looking for any sign of protest.

"Yes…but–," Harry replied, his voice trembling with a mix of desire and fear. "I've never...you know."

"I know, Harry," Y/N said with a gentle smile, her eyes filled with understanding. "You're perfect, Harry," she assured him, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. "You're kind, you're smart, you're..." she trailed off, her voice filled with emotion.

He took a deep breath and nodded, his eyes meeting hers. He leaned in and rested his forehead on hers "Okay, 'm just nervous I won't be good enough for you." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N chuckled gently, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "You're already more than enough, Harry," she assured him, her voice filled with sincerity. She leaned in and kissed him, her lips soft and gentle. It was a kiss filled with warmth and comfort, the kind of kiss that told him she didn't care about his lack of experience, that she was here for him, with him.

Without another word, she stood up, taking Harry's hand in hers and leading him over to the bed. She sat him down on the edge, her eyes never leaving his as she knelt between his legs. The anticipation was palpable in the air, a delicious tension that made his heart race even faster. He watched as she reached for the hem of his t-shirt, her eyes never leaving his as she lifted it over his head. She gave him a seductive, cheeky smile.

Y/N leaned in and kissed Harry's chest, her lips warm and soft against his skin. He gasped, his hands reflexively reaching out to grasp her shoulders. She giggled against his skin before moving lower, her breath hot against his abs. Harry's stomach tightened, his body responding to her every touch. When her kisses reached the waistband of his sweatpants, she looked up at him again. "Can I?" she asked, her eyes gleaming.

He nodded, his throat dry with anticipation. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and slowly pulled them down, revealing his erection. Harry couldn't believe this was happening, his best friend, the girl he had loved for so long, was about to give him his first blowjob.

Y/N took him in her hand, stroking him gently as she licked her lips. She leaned in, her breath hot on his skin as she kissed the tip, and then took him into her mouth. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head, his body trembling with pleasure. She was surprisingly adept, her movements smooth and confident as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around him. He had read about this, watched it in porn, but the reality was so much more intense, so much more overwhelming than he could have ever imagined.

Her eyes locked onto his, watching his reaction, her own excitement clear in the way her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed. He was lost in the sensation, his mind a haze of pleasure as she worked her magic on him. He didn't know how long it lasted, but it was like nothing he had ever felt before. Her hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently as she took him deeper, her throat tightening around him.

As Harry's breath grew more ragged, Y/N sensed he was close and she picked up the pace, her mouth moving faster and faster. He could feel his orgasm building, his body tensing as he tried to hold back, not wanting this moment to end. But it was too much, too intense. He came with a gasp, his body arching off the bed as she swallowed every drop, not breaking eye contact.

For a moment, there was silence, just the sound of their breathing in the quiet room. Then Harry looked down at her, his face flaming red. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, his voice thick with embarrassment. "That was...quick."

Y/N looked up at him with a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's okay," she said, her voice low and throaty. "It's your first time. Plus, it tells me that I did a good job." She cheekily chuckled

Her words made him blush even deeper, but she didn't let him dwell on it. She stood up, her own shirt sliding off her shoulders with a smooth grace that left Harry's mouth watering. Her bra followed, revealing breasts that were full and perfect, with perfect nipples that were already hard with arousal. He had seen her in a bikini before, but this was different. This was intimate, this was real, and it was just for him.

"Let's not worry about that," she said, her voice a soft purr as she stepped closer to him. "Let's just enjoy each other, okay?"

Her words washed over Harry like a warm wave, and he nodded, unable to speak. Y/N leaned in and kissed him again, her tongue slipping into his mouth, tasting of him. Her breasts were soft and warm against his chest, and he couldn't help but cup them, she moaned into his mouth.

"I can...eat you out," Harry murmured, his voice filled with a need that surprised even himself. "of course, if you want...I want to make you feel good...only if you want me to."

She chuckled as he stumbled over his words and simply placed a finger on his lips to quiet him.

"Shh, Harry, it's okay," she murmured, her eyes full of affection. "I want you to eat me out," she replied, Harry's heart stopped, hoping that he could be good enough."But not tonight, I need to ride you." Her voice thick with desire.

Her words sent a fresh wave of excitement through him. Harry nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he helped her out of her panties. He took a moment to admire her, her legs spread before him, the smooth skin of her inner thighs begging for his touch. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

Y/N straddled him, her knees on the bed on either side of his hips. She took his face in her hands, looking into his eyes with a fierce determination. "You're going to love this," she whispered, her voice low and seductive.

With that, she positioned him at her entrance, the tip of him nudging against her slick folds. Harry's heart was racing, his entire body tense with anticipation. He could feel the warmth of her, and it was all he could do not to thrust upwards and take her in one go. Y/N moaned loudly at just the feeling of his tip at her hole.

Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, inch by agonizing inch, her eyes never leaving his. Harry's eyes rolled back into his head as he felt her tightness enveloping him, her wetness coating him as she slid down. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. She was so warm, so wet, and so tight around him. It was almost painful in its perfection.

Y/N began to move, her hips rocking back and forth in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Harry's eyes widened, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly as she took control. He could see the desire in her eyes, the way they filled with lust, it was like watching a wild animal.

Her breasts bounced with every movement, and Harry couldn't help but reach out to cup them, his thumbs brushing over her nipples. She gasped then smiled at his now boldness. Her hips buckled slightly at the contact. He watched as she threw her head back, her hair cascading over her shoulders.

He watched her, her body moving in a rhythm that was both mesmerizing and overwhelming. He had never felt anything so intense before. The way she took him in, the way she moved, it was like nothing he had ever imagined.

Y/N leaned down, her breath hot against his ear. "You like that, Harry?" she whispered, her voice dripping with seductive sweetness. "You like feeling me tight around you?"

Her words sent a shiver down his spine, and Harry could only nod, unable to form coherent sentences. He had never heard anyone talk to him like that, especially not her. It was like something straight out of a porno, and he was living it.

"Tell me," she whispered, her eyes staying on his, "Tell me what you want to do to me."

Harry couldn't resist. "I want to fuck you," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I want to make you scream."

Y/N stopped her movements, his words stopping in her tracks, but turned her on incredibly. She could feel his cock pulsing inside her, and she found herself even more turned on by his unexpected assertiveness.

"I want you to fuck me too."

He sat up, lifting her with him so that she was straddling him as he leaned back against the headboard. His hands found her hips, and he began to guide her movements, his thrusts growing more forceful. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the room, mingling with their gasps and moans.

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her movements growing more erratic as she approached her climax. Harry watched her face, the pleasure etched into every line and curve, and knew he was giving her what she needed. Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth opened in a silent scream as she came, her body spasming around him.

"God, Harry...your'e so fucking good."

Y/N's eyes snapped open, her cheeks flaming red as she looked down at him. The words had slipped out, unbidden, and she felt a thrill of excitement at his raw desire for her. She had never seen this side of Harry before, and she liked it. A lot.

With a sudden shift, she pulled away from him. Harry's cock slipped out of her, glistening with her juices, and she stared at it for a moment, feeling a sudden rush of power. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and hope.

"Did...did I do something wrong?" he asked, his voice thick with arousal and a hint of vulnerability.

"No," Y/N breathed, her voice laced with wonder. "No, Harry, you didn't." She took a moment to compose herself, then leaned in and kissed him hard, her tongue delving into his mouth, tasting him deeply. When she pulled away, her eyes searched his, looking for any signs of doubt.

Her hand slid down to his cock, stroking it gently. "You just made me feel so good," she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. "I thought maybe you'd want to get a better angle."

With a naughty smile, she climbed off his lap and turned to face the end of the bed, getting on her knees in front of him. Harry's eyes widened as she leaned forward, her round ass in the air, presenting herself to him. He had never seen her like this before, so open and willing, and the sight was almost too much to handle.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting him with a sultry. "I thought you wanted to fuck me?"

Her question was all the invitation Harry needed. He moved behind her, his hands on her hips as he aligned his cock with her wet entrance. She gasped as he pushed in, filling her completely. The new position was intense, and Harry took a moment to adjust, his hands tightening on her waist as he found his rhythm.

Y/N looked over her shoulder, her eyes dark with need. "Yes, Harry, just like that," she encouraged him, her voice a breathless whisper. "Fuck me hard, baby."

Her words encouraged something primal in Harry. He gripped her hips tighter, his thrusts becoming more powerful. Her encouragement was like a drug, pushing him to give her what she wanted, what they both needed. Her moans grew louder, filling the room, and Harry knew he was giving her exactly what she craved.

"Yes," she hissed, her voice low and needy. "Just like that, Harry." He could feel her tightening around him, her muscles contracting as she approached another orgasm.

The feeling was too much for Harry, the way she responded to him, the way she begged for more. His own climax was building, a pressure that threatened to overwhelm him. He watched her in the mirror, her breasts swinging as he fucked her, and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.

As she came again, her muscles tightening around him, it was like a trigger for Harry. He thrust into her one last time, feeling the warmth of her cum around his cock. He couldn't hold back anymore. He exploded, his orgasm ripping through him like a wildfire, his vision blurring as he filled her with his seed. Y/N's cries of pleasure only served to heighten his own release, her body milking him for every drop.

When the waves of pleasure finally subsided, they both collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. Y/N rolled onto her side, her body a warm, sweaty mess against his. She looked up at him with a satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming. "That was...amazing," she murmured, her voice filled with awe.

For a moment, Harry just stared at her, his heart racing. Then, it dawned on him. He had just had sex with his best friend, and she had liked it. No, she loved it. The realization washed over him like a warm, comforting blanket. He leaned down to kiss her, his hands stroking her hair gently.

"Thank you," he murmured against her lips.

Y/N giggled, the sound light and airy. "Feeling less stressed?"

"Much," Harry managed to breathe out, his chest still heaving. He couldn't believe what had just happened. It was like a dream, a fantasy come to life. He looked at her, her hair a mess around her flushed face, her body glistening with sweat, and his heart ached.

Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, her hand reaching out to stroke his cheek. "You okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern. He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

For a moment, they just laid there, their breathing heavy and ragged. Then, she leaned in and kissed him again, a soft, gentle kiss that spoke of affection and care. She pulled back, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "You know, Harry," she said, her voice teasing, "that was your first time. You're supposed to get all the aftercare."

Her words brought him back to reality, and he remembered the conversation from earlier. Jake had been cruel and had denied her what she needed after they'd had sex. Harry felt a surge of protectiveness. He sat up, his eyes searching hers. "Did Jake never...you know, take care of you after?"

Y/N's smile was sad, a little wistful. "Not really," she said, her voice a soft sigh. "But that's not what tonight is about. Tonight is about you."

"No, no, I want to care for you."

Y/N's eyes lit up at Harry's insistence, and she couldn't help but smile. Despite his inexperience, he was eager to learn, eager to ensure she felt loved and satisfied. She laid back, allowing him to hover over her, his eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, his soft touches leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He slid off the bed and walked over to the sink, his body still shaking with the aftermath of their passion. He grabbed a wet washcloth, his movements a little awkward, his cheeks reddening at the thought of what he was about to do. He returned to her side, his eyes meeting hers with a tentative look.

"Let me," he murmured, his voice soft and gentle. He reached out with the washcloth, touching her gently, carefully cleaning her up. His touch was featherlight, almost as if he was afraid she'd break. Y/N watched him, her heart swelling with affection. He was so sweet, so considerate, and it was clear that he was trying his best to take care of her.

As he wiped her thighs and her inner thighs, his eyes met hers again, filled with uncertainty. She reached up, taking the washcloth from his hand, her fingers lingering for a moment before she placed it on the nightstand. "You don't have to," she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. "You've already done so much."

But Harry was insistent, his eyes determined. "I want to," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to take care of you." He took a deep breath, his hands shaking as he gently parted her folds, using the cloth to clean her up. He was clumsy at first, but she didn't care. The way he looked at her, like she was the only person in the world that mattered, made her feel cherished.

She leaned forward, grabbing his forearm and kissed him. "I love you, Harry," She pulled away and stared deep into his eyes. "Thank you." They had said it a million times before, I love you, but the way she looked at him made him feel like this time was different, like she meant it more than ever before.

Harry felt his heart swell with emotion, "I love you too, Y/N." He whispered, his voice hoarse. He kissed her again, this time more tenderly, savoring the taste of her on his lips.

tag list !

@mema10 @lizsogolden @harrrrystylesslut @tulips4harry @cloudyluun @dipmeinhoneyh @tchlamqtsgf @maudie-duan @gilwm @mads3502 @girlslovejahseh

[cozywolvie]

hii, i was wondering if u could do a fic of logan nd wade with a sunshine reader ^_^ like an overly happy and energetic person ig. IF THAT MAKES SENSE LOL. i don’t see too many fanfics with sunshine readers… or at least when i look. not sure if u have gotten many requests yet but hopefully this isn’t a bother to u!! u can add smut or smth if u want. u seem super cool and hopefully u have a fun time writing this if u do :3 have a great day or night!!

a/n: yayy! my first request! thank you sm for requesting and you are not a bother at all. I really hope this is somewhat of what you wanted. this is straight fluff and cuteness, so I hope you enjoy!

-

You have always been a morning person. You loved watching the sky turn different shades of yellow and orange as the sun rose, and you loved having a cup of coffee while watching it. However, your boyfriends couldn’t disagree more with you.

Here you are, laid out on the back porch, wearing one of Logan’s plaid flannels, baking in the rising sunlight as it goes over the horizon. A warm cup of coffee is settled in between your fingers, and you grip it tightly, loving the warmth it gave you on this crisp morning.

While you laid out here, Wade and Logan lay inside sound asleep in your shared king size bed. They always love to tease you about your chirpiness and happiness, especially in the morning. They couldn’t get around the fact that they both were somehow able to fall in love with a person so opposite of them, especially Logan.

It was around 10 am when you started to hear the two men stir. You were in the kitchen, humming, flipping pancakes on the stove. Logan emerged first from the bedroom, wearing a pair of sweats that hung low on his waist, a flannel hung along his shoulders, underneath was bare, and you tired not to gawk at his figure. He smirks when you see’s you. “Smells good.” He compliments, walking around to your side and placing a long kiss on your temple. You smile, practically leaning into his tender embrace.

“Good morning” You beam back at him. You loved mornings like this, calm, peaceful, anything to get away from the stress of Wade and Logan's crime fighting careers. You offer him coffee, which he leaves black, and sits down at the kitchen table. You continue to hum in content, even dancing to nothing in the kitchen, enjoying the sizzling of the pancake batter on the stove. There was just pure joy and happiness radiating off of you. Logan smiles at the sight.

“Good morning bubbles!” The sound of your other boyfriend radiates the room. Logan groans in discomfort at the loud sound, plugging his ears closed. You giggle at Wade’s nickname. Awhile ago when you three had gotten together, Wade had referred to the three of you were like the powerpuff girls. You, bubbles, because you were always bubbly. Buttercup, Logan, which is pretty self explanatory. And Wade, Blossom, because he claims that he was the captain of your little team.

“Good morning Wade.” You give him peck on the lips, and hand him his coffee, with a shit ton of creamer and four sugars, he loves things sweet. He takes a sip and nods approvingly. “Ah, sweet! Just like my girl.” He gives your behind a cheeky slap and you giggle, swatting him away playfully.

You all sit at the table, munching down on pancakes. Wade drowns his in syrup and Logan cringes at the sight. “You’re gonna get diabetes if you keep doing that.” Logan scowls.

“I already got cancer, I’ll take my chances.” Wade says back, shoving pancakes in his mouth. You grin, rolling your eyes at the pair. Logan eyes your cup of coffee. “Which number cup is that?” He teases.

“My forth.” You grin, taking a sip. Logan chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, “No wonder you’re always so energetic.”

"Nah, it's just the way our girl is." Wade says, sending a wink your way. You grin and try to hide your blush. "I have no reason to be anything else. I've got a good life, a roof over my head, and two incredibly amazing sexy men who are in love with me." You giggle with a wink, watching as both the men smile, making your heart warm.

"About that, thank you." Logan states. You crinkle your brows in confusion, not knowing what he is thanking you for. He see's your confusion, stumbling over his words, becoming flustered. "Well, uh, ya'know-"

"What peanut is trying to say is, that we are grateful for you. You're the light in our lives that we both needed." Wade states, grabbing your hand from across the table. You can't even contain the blush on your cheeks now. If anything, you should be thanking them.

"I'm the grateful one." You say. The boys smile, showering you in love and kisses. The rest of the day is spent with the three of you relaxing in your free time, cuddled up by the two men you love most, all three of your laughters echoing around the small cozy apartment.

[liberalk1tsch]

This is a bizarre request, if I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Could you write a slight canon divergent one shot/drabble about Prim finding out how Gale has been treating Katniss, and slapping him across the face? I just think it would be really funny. And I love the relationship between Katniss and Prim

ok this request made me giggle ngl but i kinda fw how it turned out?? idk lol, hope you enjoy, anon!

setting: hospital wing in 13, post-bombing of d2

Your Sister Was Right

“Hey, Baby Everdeen, got anymore of that morphling for me?” asks Johanna, her laughs dissolving into words as she strolls out of my sister’s hospital room and down the hall to my nurses’ station. 

I smile at her ruefully. I don’t need to check her chart to know she’s jonesing for drugs she won’t get. “You know you’ve got another six hours till your next dose.”

She sighs dramatically. “Feels like forever.”

“How’s she doing?” I ask, nodding in the direction of Katniss. It was always hard caring for her, but especially now. Whenever I walk in, she puts up her typical front of pretending she’s okay for my sake, even when I know she’s hurting. Problem is, she won’t let anyone else in to see her pain either, save for maybe Haymitch.

Not even Gale’s been able to get much out of her, though I can’t say that doesn’t make sense. She can’t talk to him about Peeta, and that’s the thing that really torments her.

Finnick was the only one she came close to opening up to, but he’s . . . busy. The poor guy deserves some happiness with his soon-to-be wife.

Which leaves Johanna.

“She’s definitely been better,” says the girl from District 7. “Don’t think seeing your cousin is helping, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Johanna smiles pitifully at me. “Oh, my sweet summer child — he’s pretty, but he’s not good for her. Anyone with eyes can see it.”

I give her a confused look.

 She leans over the counter, like she’s telling me a secret. “Haven’t you seen it? The way she’s been slowly withdrawing from their relationship?” She leans back, putting a hand on her hip and speaking at normal volume again. “Personally, I’m Team Choking over Team Bombing A Mountain, but that’s just me.”

I have seen it, actually. Not just recently, but since those first Games. My older sister who left on that train never came home. Gale, for all his kindness to our family, still doesn’t see that.

At this rate, I’m not sure he ever will.

Once upon a time, I used to think it’d be cute if they got together. We’re all practically family anyways. But it wasn’t until I saw the way she looked at Peeta that I knew the poor guy never stood a chance. When her and Gale don’t talk, there’s only plain relief on her face. When her and Peeta weren’t talking, I would constantly catch her staring down the road at Peeta’s house, only breathing a sigh of relief as she watched the warm glow of his fire start up night by night, signifying that he was alive. That he was all right.

She’d deny it if anyone asked, but I know she’d started setting aside a squirrel to drop off at the bakery on days when Gale was in the mines and she knew Peeta would be in Victor’s Village. She wouldn’t take anything in return, and she’d always make sure the Hawthornes got the money for the “traded” game, but I helped Mother balance Katniss’ monthly winnings; it was hard to ignore the missing money — always the precise price of small game, and always on weekdays. It doesn’t help her case that I spotted her arguing with Otho Mellark when I stopped by the sweet shop after school one day, insisting he accept her offering.

Peeta would stop me in the street too, ask me how she was doing. Clearly hurt, clearly still licking whatever wounds they inflicted upon each other, but still caring for my sister in a way Gale never has.

I’m not stupid — I can see Gale has feelings for her. Have known about it probably longer than she has. I just don’t think his intentions are as pure, or as mindful of my sister as Peeta’s are.

“What’s he saying to her?” I ask Johanna.

She shrugs. “See for yourself.”

So I do.

I move down to the supply station a few yards away from the door to her room, pretending to take inventory, leaving me just within earshot of their conversation.

“Katniss, what difference is there, really, between crushing our enemy in a mine or blowing them out of the sky with one of Beetee’s arrows? The result is the same.”

“I don’t know. We were under attack in Eight, for one thing. The hospital was under attack.”

“Yes, and those hoverplanes came from District Two. So, by taking them out, we prevented further attacks.”

“But that kind of thinking . . . you could turn it into an argument for killing anyone at any time. You could justify sending kids into the Hunger Games to prevent the districts from getting out of line.”

“I don’t buy that.”

“I do. It must be those trips to the arena.”

I’ve never been an angry person.

I tend to see the best in people, even when they don’t necessarily deserve it, because you never know what someone has going on in their personal lives behind the scenes. 

But as I stand at the supply cart outside of my sister’s room, I can feel my fingers curling into fist, crumpling up a stray syringe wrapper in my hands as they begin to tremble with rage.

It was one thing to push his feelings onto Katniss (even if he does have notoriously bad timing with everything and is incredibly disrespectful towards Peeta). She can handle that herself. Sort of. Ish.

But condemning thousands of people to the same fate as our fathers, and then trying to justify it by comparing an offensive attack to defending the injured and ill is too far.

I saw the footage they used in the propo. Had to look away when the mountain collapsed, burying who knows how many people.

Plutarch tells me it’s just the way of war, that I’ll understand when I’m older.

But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand what could bring someone to do that to another person, let alone thousands of them. And now finding out that it’s Gale’s idea?

I want him away from my sister.

A small part of me tries to justify it. He stresses her, which is neither good for her mental nor physical healing. As an apprentice healer, I can very easily make the argument that it’s what’s best for her health. 

But if I’m honest with myself, I want him gone because I’ve lost faith in him. I used to look up to him as an older brother of sorts, but more and more often I find myself questioning if I even really know the guy.

He’s turning out to be very far from the person I thought he was.

I’m about to go march in there myself and tell him as much, when he’s suddenly there, closing the door behind him as he leaves.

“Hey, Prim,” he says by way of greeting. 

I’ve never been a violent person either. 

But although Gale is six years my senior and has a good foot and a half on me, for some reason, I find myself reaching up and smacking him across the face.

We stare at each other in stunned silence for a moment. My palm stings terribly, and Gale has a red imprint on his cheek from where I struck him.

“What was that for?” he asks, holding his hand to his cheek. He seems more shocked than angry with me.

Honestly? I’m not entirely sure. Lots of things, I suppose. For treating Katniss as if she owes him something. For never respecting her feelings for Peeta and his role in her life. For giving the citizens of District 2 a miner’s fate.

But Katniss especially. 

But in spite of what she’ll tell people, she’s the nicer one between the two of us. She’ll rebel against authority no problem, but when it comes to the people she loves, she’s a big softie. She freezes. She hates confrontation and struggles to stand up for herself because she’s so scared of losing anyone else. 

I know she loves Gale, same as I do — he’s family. But it’s possible to love someone and hold them accountable for how they treat you. Our relationship with Mother proves that.

I can’t imagine the slap was particularly painful for him, and I’m somewhat horrified by my own actions, but I can’t help the underlying feeling of satisfaction too.

“That was for Katniss. And Peeta. And the people of Two,” I finally say.

He sighs. “Prim, you wouldn’t —”

“Understand?” I ask. “No, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Because I don’t care if we are in a rebellion, I could never do what you did.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I cut him off a second time. “But that’s not the point. My point is that she needs space and you need to give that to her. None of this is easy for anyone, and you’re making an already difficult time in her life that much harder. We aren’t on the brink of starvation in Twelve anymore. She doesn’t need you for survival. She just needs you to be her friend, and you haven’t been doing a very good job at that.” I look down at the cart, my temporary bravado suddenly gone, and with it my ability to look Gale in the eye. “Anyways, I’ve gotta go get some butterflies for this cart, it looks like it’s running low. I’ll see you at dinner,” I mumble, darting past him and scurrying off to the locked supply room.

I press my back against a wall and slide down to the floor, sighing out loud.

My mother will be furious when she finds out. Gale’s been good to us. I know that. She won’t let me forget it. But he’s been awful to Katniss as of late, and I can’t keep sitting around and watching her grow more and more upset, especially now that Peeta’s back.

Peeta.

Poor Peeta.

Poor Katniss. To be continuously badgered by Gale when Peeta’s only three halls down in a padded, locked room, nearly twisted beyond recognition by Snow’s torture.

It’s a good thing she’s not the only Everdeen sister who can put up a fight.

[shares-a-vest]

Prompt: Lazy Sunday (Discord Drabble) Ft. Eddie's butt because well, we all saw that gif from Hoard today right?

Steve wanders back into the bedroom to find Eddie just where he left him: lounging on his bed and wearing nothing at all.

He smiles as he stops just by the foot of the bed, admiring his boyfriend and how the afternoon sunlight is highlighting Eddie's shoulders, the subtle muscles in his back.

The peaks and valleys of his scars.

The plump flesh of his –

"– Can you believe Julia Roberts, man?" Eddie says, tearing Steve from his lovesick and ogling stupor.

He flaps the magazine page he is reading and shakes his head, his somewhat frizzed curls bouncing with the movement.

Eddie continues babbling away – something about Kiefer Sutherland and the other guy from The Lost Boys and how 'scandalous' he finds the whole thing.

But it all goes in one ear and out the other, all because Eddie's dramatic retelling has him squirming about as he talks and causes his ass to jiggle just enough that Steve is left hypnotised.

[onmyyan]

A drabble about sucking on Gabe's voluptuous tits

It all starts with one playful bite, one nip at his chest that changes the mood from playful to sensual in a second, Gabe gasps so loudly you think you hurt him, jumping back to check him over you're surprised to see the blissed out look on his face, his head rolled back, eyes scrunched shut, a fist between his teeth as he processes the electric feeling you've just given him, "Baby?" You ask in concern, "Mhmm-fuck do it again." He huffs out, eyes now open, staring at you, pleading with you, "please princessa?" The whine of your pet name has you inching closer to his chest, soft (s/c) hands bunch his shirt up towards his collar bone, your fingers flatten against his warm flesh, gently squeezing him as you place a gentle kiss on his sternum, you make a point to hold eye contact as you gently take his right nipple in your mouth, rolling the bud between your teeth just hard enough to have him bucking up into you, his cries fueling you to suck down harder, "fuuuuck me- ah! Don't stop baby girl." He whines holding you closer to him, one hand on your hip the other on the back of your neck, as if encouraging you to bite harder, he had goosebumps, the hair on his nape stood tall, it was like he wanted to run from the pleasure but couldn't, you pull away with a pop making him keep your name, his body following your mouth desperately, a wicked grin on your lips, you'd just discovered something very fun indeed.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon 2 Prompt #15

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: Inexperienced Dabi accidentally overhears Shig negotiating with a potential sub. The sub ends up declining but Dabi is flustered, surprised by Shig's experience, and very turned on. He approaches Shig about it. Would love for Dabi to get tied up and spoiled until he cries.

Contents: BDSM, dom/sub, dacryphilia, bondage, orgasm delay, multiple orgasms, overstimulation. 

The base they're at now, Dabi doesn't really think is one of AFO's other ventures. All For One was a potato of a supervillain who seemed to get off exclusively on his own fucked-up power-hungry self. Dabi doesn't think that he was funding a BDSM club outside of Kamino that is a barely-legal hole in the wall with a shitty love hotel attached to it. But whatever connections AFO's network has to this place means that they are able to stay here while they figure out their next moves, and they can get drinks at the bar as long as they keep Toga completely out of sight in the halls or around the building. Fine by him. He is just glad he doesn't have to go without booze, even if it does mean he's also seeing a lot of the other patrons as they have their play all over the little club when he comes back after a day of recruiting absolutely no one and wants to take the edge off of his stinging nerves. 

When he spots Shigaraki sitting at one of the tables with another man across from him, the guy skinny with lavender skin, tousled black hair, and in the tiniest set of lingerie that Dabi has ever seen outside of porn, he doubts that he's a recruit. But maybe he didn't get the memo about the fact they're apparently untouchable here, and he starts to make his way over, listening for his boss's voice under the thrum of the music and the sounds of pleasure that are coming from elsewhere in the club. 

"Remember last time," The man is practically batting his eyelashes at Shigaraki. "You tied me up so I was suspended upside down and fucked my throat? That was so hot. I would love to have another session like that." 

Dabi blinks and looks around, like someone is going to pull out a candid camera and tell him that he's being punked. But the rest of the club is having conversations similar to this or actually just going for it instead. What the fuck? He had assumed, because he hasn't really had time to hook up with people when he's been so focused on his villainy, and given Spinner and Shigaraki's similar interests, that none of them had time for that shit. But Shigaraki is leaning back in the booth, arm against the back of it, his red eyes picking apart this guy like he's perfectly comfortable with this situation. 

"I remember," Duster's voice is cold as ice when he speaks. "That you lied to me about having an up-to-date STI test and when I ended the session early, you went and got drunk before ambushing me outside so you could throw a hissy fit. You are a shit sub and not worth my, or anyone else's, time until you actually learn how to respect your partner's boundaries. Get the fuck out of my sight before I tell Aki about the shit you pulled with me. You'll be lucky if she doesn't make you trip into traffic on your way home." 

Two dark, splotchy spots of purple appear on his cheeks and the guy doesn't look like he's going to back off without a fight, and the truth is, if he gets too uppity, he could compromise this location for them. So Dabi comes up to the other side of the booth and breathes out a stream of smoke and embers as he glares down at the stranger. 

"This guy causing trouble, boss?" 

Shigaraki's eyes flick to him. "I certainly hope not." He has a glass of scotch and is tracing four fingers around the rim as he looks at the man. "Because useless things that cause us trouble," he drops his last finger to the glass and the contents gray and turn to dust as the glass crumbles apart to the table, "Don't tend to make it very far." 

The purple of his skin nearly grays out and the guy gets up quickly and exits the booth. “You know what, I don’t think we’re a good fit.” 

Dabi watches him go before he turns back to Shig to just tell him he's going back to the rooms. He's not expecting how having Shigaraki's eyes on him again, knowing what he does now about what he gets up to recreationally, makes his whole body feel unfamiliarly warm. 

"Sorry. I was hoping that we wouldn't have any run-ins with any of my former subs." 

"Didn't know you would have... former subs." 

Shigaraki shrugs. "Everyone has to blow off steam some way. Haven't found anything here that you like? Pretty sure I saw Twice barking for a busty blond." 

Beneath his scars, Dabi has his mother's fair coloring and he knows immediately, as soon as he hears that, he knows that all of the unscarred portions of his cheeks are going bright red. 

Shig raises a brow, his eyes looking hungrier. "...But it's fine if none of this is for you. Spinner isn't interested either." 

And Dabi does not want to give the impression that he's as inexperienced as Spinner who saw his first naked tit in real life and immediately had to dart away to hide the lizard in his pants. "Not uninterested." He says as casually as he can. "Just haven't found what I'm looking for yet." 

"... Maybe I could help with that, firefly." 

Dabi is so embarrassed that he walked himself into this situation, and so weirdly turned on hearing Shigaraki use that nickname for him, he sits his ass down at the table as Shig orders them each a drink. 

///

"Don't be nervous, baby." Shigaraki kept him talking for hours, realizing way more quickly than Dabi wanted, that he was completely out of his depth when it came to sex. But he hadn't made fun of him. He'd explained things, walked him around the club and told people he was 'in training' and they had talked to him too. Told him what to expect from a dom or sub, proper etiquette, how to ask for help if something happened he didn't know how to handle, and no one had blinked at his scars or the fact he was so inexperienced. That had made him feel... better. Good enough that when Shigaraki turned down doing anything 'hands-on' for the night, he hadn't felt the sting of rejection. He just wanted him to sleep on it. 

Dabi had, and now he's in Shigaraki's room, red silk ribbon being gently looped around his limbs, Duster shirtless over him as he lays completely exposed on the bed. "Easy for you to say. You're not naked and tied up." 

"You could burn away these ropes before I could take off my gloves." Tomura smiles at him. He thought that this would be all growled words, slaps, hair pulling, and rough fucking. But Shigaraki has been pressing kisses to his skin before the ribbon crosses it, his fingers tracing over his body lightly too. He's smiling. His words are tinged with sweetness that is, embarrassingly, making Dabi hard even with only the light touches against his skin. "You look so pretty all wrapped up in my color, firefly." arms are tied behind his back, the ribbon wrapped around his chest so that it cups his chest and pushes his pecks out more, and... Shigaraki is starting to work the knots along the tops of his thighs, lashing his calves against them. "Are you still comfortable? No pinching?" 

"Green," he says, still flushing as he tries so hard to show the other that he learned from the lessons last night. 

"Good boy." He teases his fingers up Dabi's cock and that sends him whimpering, his whole body trembling in his bonds as such a small touch puts pleasure through his entire body. "It feels so good to just surrender, doesn't it, baby boy?" 

Dabi doesn't want to answer him, the humiliation making his skin start to smoke. But he has to if he wants to follow the rules. "...Yes, sir." If he doesn't follow the rules, Shigaraki will have to stop and all the warmth in his eyes will be replaced with the same disgust that he held for that other man. Dabi couldn't stand seeing the light for him leave someone else's eyes. 

"You're going to surrender everything to me tonight, Dabi." There's so much heat in his voice even as he smiles. He catches the knot across the top of one of his thighs and loops a fresh section of ribbon through it, pulling it up so he can secure it to one of the knots at his chest. Then he does the other and Dabi realizes that he is completely exposed to the other man in a way he's never been with another person before. "We're going to start with your body, baby." He moves his hand back to Dabi's cock and starts to stroke him more deliberately. Works him up until Dabi is dripping and he's certain that he's going to cum-- and then he pulls his hand away and brings back more of the ribbon tying knots around his balls and along his length until the pressure of his orgasm is trapped inside in a way it never has been before and there are tears trickling over his temples as he's denied his pleasure the way he was told he would be. "Then your dignity. Oh, baby, you're so cute when you're weeping as much as your cute little cock." Tomura coos. "And by the time we're done, your mind is going to belong to me too, pretty boy. There's not going to be a thought left behind those lovely eyes except for how to please me enough to earn your reward. I can't wait to see you so obedient, firefly. Makes me excited just thinking about it." 

Dabi wonders if he should get so excited too that his head goes foggy when Shigaraki shifts his body so his head is hanging off of the edge of the bed and the other man opens his pants so he can pull out his half-hard cock. He thinks the laugh he gets out of the other when he sees his tied up cock twitch and try to drip a little more pre as he rubs himself against Dabi's lips probably says he wasn't expecting his mind to slip away so quickly. But Dabi has always been eager to please. He doesn't mind being even more so when he believed Shigaraki when he said that he would make his first time as perfect as he could. This is definitely better than whatever drunken hookup he might have had otherwise. When he ends the night, crying even harder and begging Tomura to stop because he's had three orgasms from his cock and two from his prostate, he doesn't think that there's any other word but perfect to describe the experience.

Thanks for participating! If you'd like to join in, consider checking it out here!

[onmyyan]

We want him

"We outta milk again."

"You mean I'm out of milk?"

He sucked his teeth at your correction, drumming his baby blue pained nails against the door of your refrigerator, you could hear him humming as he raided your fridge for the umpteenth time.

There was a moment of silence as he considered your words, you heard him come bounding towards the couch, his heavy footsteps causing your coffee table to shake, with little effort he swung his massive frame over the couch, draping himself across your lap, he shimmied his head onto the plush of your thighs, his green eyes staring at you from his position.

"I said what I said," he crossed his arms, all but pouting, "C'mon let's go to the store-besides I got it last time we were out."

"That's because your hungry ass drank it all??" You couldn't help but laugh at the audacity of this man. Diego was your nextdoor neighbor but he liked to cosplay living at your place a lot, case and point, him whining in your lap like a puppy.

"Yours tastes better."

"Yeah okay whatever punk."

[a-mere-dream]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Qiu Haitang & Yue Qingyuan Characters: Qiu Haitang, Yue Qingyuan, Shen Jiu | Original Shen Qingqiu Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Revenge, Unreliable Narrator, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slavery, but also two teenage idiots out on a road trip Series: Part 29 of Scum Villain One Shots Summary:

Qiu Haitang counts herself lucky to have someone at her side exactly as dedicated to hunting down Xiao Jiu as she is.

Really, this Yue Qingyuan is such a gallant man, to swear revenge on a boy he's never met just for her sake.

[kayzero]

okay but ur So Correct re: the tags u put under the umikane post.. like i do think akane has bpd and has moments where she Is obsessive (her having the password be jumpydolls in vlr for example, how she sees junpei as one of the most important ppl in her life), it annoys me sm how ppl reduce that to her being a "yandere" as if that isnt usually (keyword usually, i dont rlly care abt the trope otherwise) an ableist trope to demonize ppl w bpd / anyone w/ trauma.

well its less obsessive and more she sees junpei as an fp lol . they both have bpd.. To Me (and im surpised it isnt a well known hc)

finally getting around to this ask because last night i had a conversation where i was like “in a universe where all choices on a flowchart are canon, are valid choices that could feasibly be made in-character, the person making those choices has to be bipolar as hell”

is the language chosen ableist? yeah. was i even talking about junpei at the time? not initially. do i still stand by it though? absolutely.

akane gets a lot of shit for a lot of her obsessive tendencies, most notable among them being The Chainsaw, but junpei is equally obsessed with akane, If Not More So.

mr drop out of college and go into a possibly completely unrelated field of work just for the chance to get tiny crumbs of information. the fact that he succeeded has less to do with his persistence or competence and more to do with him finding something suspicious and guessing that akane would be involved.

(the tags in question:

#the J in Junepei stands for lord alive that boy tried to tie that girl to him by sharing his name with her #Guy Named ​Junpei: I will name you June and somehow half the fanbase will think that *you’re* the obsessive one. #Guy Named Junpei: A girl I spent 9 hours in 55 years said endanger your adopted child and I said yes. The world thinks *she* is the yandere. #how come there isn’t more yandere!junpei content or discussions. is it because he’s a masochist. this is sexism.

via this reblog)