#let me be a menace in your inbox >:3

[accultant]

Like this if you want to receive a random wild magic surge from Iago for your muse to deal with~ I've got a table to roll on and everything. let's cause problems and/or make an everlasting bond over joint fuckery ━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺

[theodorenmyth]

hiya, sneaking into your inbox to ask for a fluffy piece about mattheo sneaking out of his dorm at night to go cuddle with his snarky, prefect bf (also a slytherin) or them generally just sneaking around bc the relationship is relatively new and matty is super needy

Sleepy Cuddles

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x M!reader

Summary ; In the early stages of a secret relationship, Mattheo Riddle can't help but sneak into his snarky Slytherin prefect boyfriend’s bed for late-night cuddles. Needy, clingy, and absolutely obsessed, Mattheo refuses to let go—even when duty calls. What starts as a sleepy cuddle session turns into a battle of affection, stubbornness, and sleepy kisses, with Mattheo pressing soft kisses to your neck and jawline while you halfheartedly try to escape. Despite your protests, it’s obvious: you’re already wrapped around his finger… literally.

A/N ; hi I came back from the dead.. I missed u guys :3

Warnings ; none

Word count ; 2.2k+

The first time Mattheo snuck into your dorm, it was at least a little justified.

Midnight.

Cold.

Thunder rumbling low outside the castle walls. He’d claimed he "couldn’t possibly survive alone with all that weather threatening to murder him in his sleep."

You, being the soft idiot you were when it came to him, had let him crawl into your bed without a word.

But now?

Now it’s a perfectly clear night, barely a breeze outside, and the bloody idiot is shimmying through your door again like some overgrown, desperate cat.

You sit up in bed, squinting at the figure tripping over a chair and nearly flattening himself against your dresser.

"Mattheo," you hiss, dragging a hand down your face, "what the fuck are you doing?"

He straightens up, hair a mess, wand clenched between his teeth for Merlin-knows-what reason. He pulls it free with a sheepish grin.

"Needed to see you," he says simply, shameless as ever, like that explains everything.

You glare. "It’s one in the bloody morning. Tomorrow is patrol night, and if you get caught here, I lose my prefect badge."

Mattheo shrugs, moving toward you anyway. "Worth it."

"Mattheo—"

He flops onto your bed beside you with a dramatic groan, burrowing under your green Slytherin blankets like he owns the place. His hand immediately finds your waist under the covers, clinging to you like you're some sort of anchor keeping him tethered to this world.

"You’re so warm," he mumbles, already curling into your side, as if he hadn’t just committed a thousand violations of school rules and common sense. "You smell good too."

You thump him lightly on the head. "You’re impossible."

"Mm." He grins against your shoulder. "You love it."

Unfortunately, he’s right.

With a long-suffering sigh, you shift so he can tuck himself more comfortably against you. His hair brushes your jawline as he nuzzles closer, his fingers lightly stroking up and down your side, slow and almost absent-minded.

"You’re needy as hell, you know that?" you mutter.

Mattheo snickers. "You're lucky I'm only this clingy with you."

"That’s not reassuring."

"Should be." His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt now, tracing lazy circles against your skin. "Means you’re special."

You try (and fail) to suppress the heat creeping up your neck. "Says the guy who nearly broke my door sneaking in like a damn burglar."

"It’s not breaking if it’s romantic," he says smugly.

"You are a menace."

"I’m your menace."

You finally laugh, low and reluctant. "Unfortunately."

For a few minutes, it’s quiet. The castle seems to exhale around you, torches flickering in the corridors beyond your room. Mattheo’s breathing slows, matching yours, a steady rhythm that tugs at something deep in your chest.

And then, because he’s Mattheo Riddle and incapable of letting a peaceful moment stay peaceful, he mumbles, "You should let me move in."

You snort. "Move in? You have your own bed!"

"Your bed’s better. Smells better too." He inhales dramatically. "Like books and peppermint."

"You’re ridiculous."

"I’m serious," he insists, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at you. His hair falls into his eyes, soft and messy, and you hate how stupidly fond you feel.

"Mattheo—"

"Please?" His voice drops to a near-whine, shameless. "I’ll be quiet. I’ll even make the bed in the morning. I’ll..." he trails off, smirking wickedly, "repay you with affection."

You raise an eyebrow. "Affection, huh?"

"Endless affection," he promises solemnly. "Cuddles. Kisses. The works."

You roll your eyes, but before you can reply, Mattheo shifts closer, pressing a warm, lingering kiss against your jawline. The touch is soft, feather-light, and it makes your whole body tense.

Then he presses another kiss a little lower, right where your jaw meets your neck.

And another.

And another, softer still.

You feel your heart stutter like a traitor.

"You’re unbelievable," you murmur, voice embarrassingly breathless.

"You’re in love with me," he whispers, lips brushing your skin between every word. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies.

"Debatable," you manage, even as your hand slips into his messy curls without thinking.

He leans in again, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your ear. "Very debatable," he murmurs. His breath sends shivers down your spine.

You shove his face away with a hand, earning a huff of laughter.

"Alright, shut up," you say, trying not to grin. "You can stay for a bit."

Mattheo beams, victorious. "You love me."

"You’re on probation," you correct, lying back and letting him tuck himself under your arm again. "One wrong move and you're back to your own bed."

"Sure, sure." His voice is muffled against your chest. "I’ll be on my best behavior."

A moment later, he adds, "Mostly."

You sigh. "You’re going to get us both expelled."

"You’d miss me," he says smugly.

"You have too much faith in your own charm."

"And you have no poker face," he shoots back, laughing softly when you flick his ear.

After a beat, he quiets. His fingers absently trace the stitching on your pajama shirt, slow and aimless, like he’s memorizing every thread. His hand feels almost reverent against your chest, grounding you, soothing you.

"You know," he says, voice low and strangely tentative, "I like this."

You glance down at him, hand still resting lightly on his head. "Cuddling?"

"Yeah. And you."

His fingers tighten slightly against your side. "Feels...good. Safe."

You soften immediately, cursing him and yourself in the same breath. You lift your hand, threading it deeper through his hair, feeling him melt under the touch like wax.

"I like it too," you admit quietly, your chest tightening with the honesty of it.

He tilts his head up, grinning that boyish, almost shy grin he saves only for you. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool." He smirks, cocky again, but there’s a gentleness behind it now. "Means I can keep sneaking in then."

You groan. "I’m creating a monster."

"You’re just mad you love the monster."

"Go to sleep, Mattheo."

"Yes, Prefect."

He snickers against your skin, obnoxiously pleased with himself. But his breathing evens out soon enough, his weight warm and solid beside you, one leg tangled lazily with yours like he never plans to let you go.

You lie awake a little longer, staring up at the ceiling, one hand still tangled in his hair, the other wrapped around his waist.

You know you’re doomed.

Utterly, irreversibly doomed.

But somehow, with Mattheo curled against you like this—needy, reckless, yours—you don’t really mind.

In fact, you think you might love it.

The first thing you become aware of when you wake up is the distinct sensation of being completely, utterly trapped.

And no, it's not a nightmare. It's Mattheo.

His body is draped over you like a human blanket, arms wrapped around your torso in a way that suggests he never plans on letting go, and one of his legs is tangled in yours, pinning you to the bed.

You blink, squinting at the light creeping through your curtains. It's still early, and you can hear the faint echoes of other students beginning their own early mornings.

But here you are.

Mattheo Riddle has infiltrated your bed again. And there’s no way to escape.

"Mattheo," you croak, voice a little too rough from sleep. "You’re crushing me."

He makes an unintelligible noise against your neck, burrowing deeper into the crook of it like you’re the most comfortable thing in the world.

"Mattheo," you repeat, trying your best to shove him off, but he’s clingy as hell and stronger than you remember.

"Mm?" he hums, still not bothering to lift his head. "You smell good."

"What?" You sputter, utterly flustered despite the situation. "That’s it? That’s your response?"

He just sighs contentedly, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck like he’s done this a thousand times before. "Mm. You smell like peppermint and... books. My favorite."

You fight the stupid smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You’re unbelievable."

"I know." He nuzzles even closer, pulling your arm tighter around him like he’s some kind of needy puppy. "Now stay. You’re warm. I’m tired."

You groan, pulling your other arm out from under his grasp to check the time. "Mattheo, please. I have rounds in less than fifteen minutes, and if I’m late—"

"I don’t care," he interrupts, voice muffled as he drapes himself more heavily on top of you. "You’re not leaving me."

You try to sit up again, but his body is like dead weight on top of yours. You give a half-hearted tug on his arm, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he lets out an exaggerated whine, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face into your chest.

"Mattheo," you repeat, trying to wiggle your way out from under him, "I have responsibilities!"

"You’re not getting out of this bed." He lifts his head just enough to glance at you, his eyes heavy with sleep but mischievous all the same. "I’ll do anything. Just don’t go."

"Anything?" you echo, raising an eyebrow. "I could be late, you know. You’ll be late for classes."

He shrugs, unbothered, and his lips curl into a small, smug smile. "Nah. Who needs classes when I’ve got you?"

"Mattheo..." You huff, trying to pull yourself out from under him, but he's like a sticky spider, wrapping his arms tighter and tighter, refusing to let you escape.

"You're so warm," he mumbles, sounding far too pleased with himself for someone who’s definitely in the wrong.

You’re about to protest again when you feel him press a soft kiss to your neck, lingering a moment before nuzzling against your skin.

"What are you doing?" you ask, half-indignant, half-amused.

"I’m trying to convince you to stay," he mumbles, voice drowsy but still so damn smug. "It’s working, isn’t it?"

Your mind goes blank for a second as his lips leave another soft kiss on your throat. And then, another one just under your jaw. His lips are warm, soft, and... distracting.

"You’re impossible," you mutter, but you can’t stop yourself from shifting slightly, making more space for him, despite your best efforts.

"You love it," Mattheo says matter-of-factly. His hands sneak up to your back, pulling you closer until you’re practically sandwiched between him and the mattress.

"I’m serious, Mattheo," you say, your voice losing its sternness in favor of frustration and something else that feels suspiciously like affection. "I have to get up."

Mattheo glances up at you, looking far too content with his position. "You’re always so serious. Just relax. Let’s just... stay here a little longer." He presses his lips to your jawline, soft and slow. "I promise I’ll let you go soon."

"Yeah, right," you mutter, but you don’t move.

You can feel Mattheo smile against your skin, and it’s a feeling you know all too well—the warm, self-satisfied grin he wears when he knows he’s won.

And he has.

Again.

You sigh, finally giving in to the inevitable. "You're fucking impossible," you grumble, sinking deeper into the sheets, despite the nagging voice in your head that keeps reminding you of your prefect duties.

Mattheo hums happily, nuzzling into your neck again, completely satisfied. "I love you."

"I love you more." You shift, letting him pull you into a more comfortable position. "But I’m still going to be late if you don’t let me up soon."

"Then be late," he whispers, his voice full of drowsy amusement. "You can’t possibly want to leave me now."

The next thing you know, his lips are brushing against the side of your neck again, his kisses slow, deliberate, and so soft they make your heart race. One kiss lands just below your ear, and another trails along the side of your jaw.

"Mattheo..." you start, but your voice cracks. You have to swallow hard to keep it from betraying you, your stomach flipping.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes half-lidded with sleep, but the look on his face is soft and entirely too affectionate for your own good. "I’m not letting go," he says, voice hushed and serious now.

You know he’s joking.

Mostly.

But damn it, there’s something in his gaze, something warm and tender that leaves you speechless.

"I’m going to get in so much trouble," you mutter, knowing full well that you don’t really care.

"Good," Mattheo says with a sleepy grin. "You’ll be in trouble with me, and I can make it worth your while."

You roll your eyes, but it’s obvious you’ve already given up.

Mattheo presses a sleepy kiss to the side of your throat, so soft and slow you almost melt right then and there.

Then another, a little higher.

And another, just under your jaw.

"You're evil," you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Mm," he hums, sounding very pleased with himself. "Your evil."

You thump your head back against the pillow, officially resigned to your fate.

There’s no way you’re getting out of this bed without a serious fight—and honestly, you’re not sure you even want to.

Instead, you sigh, reaching down to pull the blankets higher around both of you.

"Five more minutes," you mumble.

Mattheo grins against your skin, victorious.

"Knew you'd cave."

"Yeah, yeah," you grumble, pressing a kiss to the top of his messy curls. "Shut up and go back to sleep, menace."

As Mattheo settles against you again, breathing deeply in contentment, you try once more to fight the pull of his affection, the warmth of his body.

But in the end, it’s no use.

You're already lost.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Hello! May I request a steamy # 8 With Carmy? (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Sweet Dreams.

8. "I had a dream about you."

Synopsis - You can't look Carmy in the eye this morning. He's determined to figure out why.

Pairing - Roommate!Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. carmen is a menace.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - the people love carmy!! and I totally understand why. another roommate fic, because everyone adores them - me included!! this takes place in the same universe as Finders, Keepers and Pity Party, but you can decide whether this happens before or after those. your choice!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"The fuck is your problem?"

Carmy has you cornered, backed up against the kitchen counter. You've been avoiding him all morning, and he's finally had enough.

"I... there's... what?" you squeak, taken aback.

He's usually so gentle with you, so careful. You'd be lying if you said you weren't enjoying the sudden dominance he's displaying.

"I said," he begins, leaning down so he's nose to nose with you, "what is your problem? The fuck is going on with you?"

When you exhale shakily, he takes a more gentle approach.

"Honey... Did I do something wrong? Have I upset you? You haven't been able to look at me all morning. You're freaking me out."

"No, no!" you rush out. "You haven't done anything wrong. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"I'm gonna worry, until you explain yourself."

You know he means well, that his concern is coming from a place of love. The problem is, the truth is mortifying. Ridiculously embarrassing. You and Carmy have a good thing going, as roommates, and you don't want to ruin that.

"It's nothing, Carm."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that."

You flick your eyes up to meet his piercing blue ones, and you hesitate. You've never been in the habit of lying to each other. In fact, you're not sure you're physically capable of it. Those big ocean eyes can see right through you.

"Fine. But you have to promise not to laugh."

"I promise."

You take a breath, and confess as quickly as you can.

"Ihadadreamaboutyou."

The corners of his lips quirk, tilting his head in confusion.

"Say that again. Didn't quite catch it."

You roll your eyes, and commit. You might aswell, at this point.

"I had a dream about you."

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, deliberating what to say.

"What kind of dream?"

Fuck. You were hoping he wouldn't want you to elaborate.

"A good one."

"A good one, huh? Must have been, if you can't even look me in the eye this morning."

You roll your eyes and shove him in the chest lightly.

"I knew you'd be a dick if I told you. Hence why I didn't."

"No, you didn't tell me because you're embarrassed."

He steps closer to you, backing you up against the counter again. He leans in so he's forehead to forehead with you, lips brushing yours everytime he speaks.

"Where does your filthy little mind go when you fall asleep, hmm? Was I at least good, in this dream of yours? Live up to your expectations?"

"You were fine," you mumble.

"Fine? Honey, I'm the best chef in this city. I don't do fine."

"You woke me up with all the noise you were making in the kitchen before I could get to the good part."

"Oh, I left you hanging? Shit, baby. Well we can't have that."

In one fluid motion, Carmy picks you up and sits you on the counter, moving to stand between your legs. You wrap them around his hips instinctively, arms flying up around his neck.

"You gonna let me finish what I started?"

You stare into his eyes for a moment, trying to find any semblance of humour or amusement. All you find is adoration, compassion, and lust.

"You think you can?" you whisper teasingly, knowing exactly which buttons to push.

"Honey, when are you going to learn that I am the best at everything I do?"

Carmy closes the gap between you, smashing his lips to yours. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, no tenderness to be found. He slips his hand under your sleep shirt, running a finger up the middle of your underwear.

"Fuck," he groans. "Real good dream, huh?"

You nod and buck your hips into his touch, desperate to feel him.

"Right now, I'm gonna take the edge off, okay? And then, I'm gonna spread you out, and make you tell me every single little thing that happened in your dream, so you can experience it properly."

You nod frantically in response, hands clawing at his clothed shoulders. Carmy pulls your underwear down your legs and pushes them apart, wasting no time. He runs two fingers up and down, revelling in the wet warmth.

"Please," you whisper. "Please, Carmy."

He connects his lips to yours as he slides his fingers into you, muffling your sounds against his mouth. As much as you hate to admit it, he's right. He knows what he's doing, and he's good at it.

You've been so worked up all morning that it doesn't take Carmy long to figure out what you like. In no time, he's thrusting and curling his fingers, pressing his thumb onto your clit and making you whine. He's got his other arm wrapped around your middle, keeping you pressed close to him.

"You're close, honey. Can feel you. Come on, this is what you wanted, isn't it? I've got you."

You press your lips to his, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth right as you fall over the edge. Carmy trails kisses down your neck, under your ear, onto your temple, holding you tightly as you find your release. Your toes curl, back arching off the counter as you drop your head onto his chest to catch your breath.

After a couple of minutes, you pull away to look at him, smiling when you find him grinning at you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "I don't tell you enough."

"So are you," you whisper, careful not to break the moment. "You're beautiful, Carm."

He ducks down and kisses you again, sweeter this time.

"Now," he mutters against your lips. "Start from the beginning, in this dream of yours."

[scorpioriesling]

hello! may i request a one shot with garrick ( he’s so underrated ) full of angst? maybe an injury or something that is on your mind?

How Did We Get Ourselves Into This?

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Garrick x reader

Warning(s): angst, pain/injury

Summary: After a hard loss, you know you can always trust Garrick to take care of you.

SR’s Note: So I have never written for Garrick before, however... I have a few requested WIPs featuring him, soooo I suppose I'll start offering him as an option! This is my first Garrick one-shot, so I hope you enjoy. <3

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @freakishfandomfiend (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pain exploded down your forearm with each hit on the bag.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Anger flowed through you and released against the punching bag, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty gym.

BANG.

BANG.

You punched the bag hard, ignoring the agony blooming within your dominant arm. Just two days ago, you were in a healer's bed because you'd gotten so beat up in your last challenge -- and lost.

That's what pissed you off more than anything.

BANG.

BANG.

First thing you did when getting out this morning? Taking to the gym.

BANG.

BANG.

"HEY!"

You kept punching, ignoring the all-too familiar sound from behind you. He shouted again, and you cried out in torment as you threw another punch. Angry, quick footsteps sounded from behind you mere seconds before you reared your fist back, halting when Garrick stepped between you and the bag.

"Did you loose your hearing too?"

The tension on his face was palpable. You glared up at him, using your free hand to try and shove him out of the way; it didn't work, of course. The man was 6' 3" and had at least 100 lbs. on you.

"That's it." He said in finality, bending at the waist to scoop you into his arms. It wasn't as ceremonious as it sounded; you ended up being tossed over his shoulder as though you weighed nothing.

Your fist pounded at his back, but he only began walking toward the exit.

"Put me down, Tavis!" You shouted, but it came out breathier than you liked. Winded from the angry fist fight with the punching bag, and now being bent over his shoulder -- perhaps you were more exhausted than you thought.

"You can forget it."

* ✧･ﾟ: *

You were set down with an mmph on the cool marble countertop, and you sucked in a long breath as Garrick released his hold on you. He stood straight up, looking around the bathroom for supplies.

When he turned toward the medicine cabinet on the adjacent wall, reaching in and closing his deft fingers around a bandage roll...

You mentally kicked yourself.

It were mere moments like these that always kept him near the forefront of your mind.

When he turned back, he looked the opposite of thoughtful.

"Not really sure what you were thinking," he muttered, tugging on the end of the roll. "Going so hard like that -- you just got out this morning, for Dunne's sake."

His brows knit as he made to grab your forearm, but you instead shoved his shoulder. His gaze finally met yours at that, fury raging in his irises.

"I can do what I want," you asserted, sitting up straight on the counter. "Clearly I need to be in there every day -- it's friends like you keeping me from doing so that will cause me to lose more challenges."

He huffed in frustration, setting down the bandage roll and gripping your waist. His fingers flexed into the plush of your ass, scooting you to the edge of the counter at once.

"I think we're a little past just 'friends', aren't we Y/N?"

The question wasn't intended to be menacing -- but the way he stood in only a muscle tank and low-rise sweats, his toned torso directly between your knees...

You couldn't even come up with a good response.

Instead, you let him have your arm this time. His eye contact didn't break as he grabbed the roll once more, pulling out a fresh wrap to re-tie your arm with. You only looked away to glance at your wound. It really did look bad; despite all the healing, the laceration must have broken open again today without you noticing.

Silent beats passed between the two of you as he worked, securing the bandage and turning to put the roll away. When he looked to you again, his eyes had softened.

"You have to take care of yourself, Y/N." His gaze is locked onto yours, the seriousness in his tone something you’d become so used to. You sigh, looking down at your bandaged arm.

“I just … I hate feeling so small. So incapable,” you explain. His thumb and forefinger grasp your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. When you do — his lips are mere inches from yours.

“I know how much you’re capable of,” he says quietly, his eyes searching yours like always. “And it’s a lot more than you give yourself credit for.”

You lean in, allowing his firm mouth to press against yours. He sighs, his fingers softly cupping your jaw as the other hand rests atop your thigh. You’re just wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist when he pulls back.

“I’m not kidding Y/N — I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

:* ✧･ﾟ

[hpiiker]

Omg a fluffy hasan smut w reader having a praise kink and rly sweet aftercare😭❤️

PRAISE KINK AND AFTERCARE WITH HASAN || HP²⁵ ⋆˚꩜｡🛌

:: HPIIKER’S PROFILE || my inbox is open! 📨

:: HORNY and fluffy time !!! listen to partition by beyoncé!!

— we all know this man is a menace in bedroom, dominate, gets off whenever you get off from his fingers, touch, tongue or his dick game…

— and he loves to use “good girl.”, “thereeee you go sweetheart…”, “you’re doing such a pretty job.”, or “use your moans, let me hear your beautiful moans.”

— whenever he’s pussy drunk by fucking you with your legs on his shoulder or eating you eat, between kisses, he’s panting out: “oh fuck, your pussy feels so good”, “that’s it, just let go. make yourself good.”

— i just know this man would LOVVVVEEE spitting in your mouth, while holding your throat after he eats you out 😵‍💫😵‍💫.

— after he spits in your mouth with a mix of your juices and spit, he lightly slaps your cheek saying “atta girl” after moaning at you.

— whenever your taking his cock, “you look so pretty when you’re taking my cock”. while kissing from your lips to sucking on your nipples, leaving a honourable trail of hickeys!!!

— when you’re sitting inbetween his legs, his legs are wrapped around your legs, making them spread a little further. while he’s effortlessly fingering you, “there you go baby, rock with my fingers. come on, i know you’re loving it right now…” you lean your head back onto his shoulder, hasan hearing every moan fall out of your mouth is making him harder.

— you guys live and LOVE erotic sex!! every time you finish you genuinely feel every inch of a ripple in your pussy, his cock twitching inside of you, your nipples brushing up and down one another during missionary, hasan making out with you, hasan consensually groping your nipples, boobs, pussy, thighs, NECK, hasan’s fingertips lightly choking your neck, you can both genuinely feel each other to the bar.

— whenever he creampied you, he loves slapping your clit. “atta it girl”. he’s a die hard fan of see his cum falling right out of, knowing that he fucked you amazingly.

— he’s also a die hard fan of dry humping, especially only to get you wetter and riled up. the thin fabric of cotton covering your pussy against his clothed dick. the juices coming from you, causing a wet stain on his jean. fully soaking through to his boxers…😵‍💫😵‍💫

— he loving the fact that he can call you a slut, whore, bitch or cunt. but in the most disrespectfully praising ways… you get me, you get me.

— the aftercare is so sweet, from a man who absolutely destroyed you in the bed.

— he would 1000000% get the shower or bath running, hasan whispering praises and compliments and sweet nothings into your ear as you come down from your high, or snoring your heads off together <33

— “god, i don’t want to leave to bed…” hasan panted out of breath, running his fingers through his hair. “we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” you replied back, with using the headboard bars to support yourself onto your knees to straddle him. <3

— “you alright there?” hasan asks you quietly. “hm, yeah. just a little sleepy after all that.” as you snuggled more into hasan’s chest.

— “baby, you did so good. i’m so proud of you.” hasan said with a sweet smile on his face, after kissing the top of your head. “thank you baby, and thank you for taking care of me.” you replied back with kissing his chest you’re laying up on <33

— TAPE IT ON YOUR VIDEO PHONE | NSFW ABCs W HASAN.

:: tags — @snowsdiaryy @sunshineblnd @the-phantom-author @fullofgutsndopamine @nfr-girly @haileyisnotcool @exhaustedclown @tiege2000 @cinnabearice @saviorcomplexrry @pupity @moondust-imagines @kqmbr1a @2005irlfawn @feeling-normal @freak4hamzah @issi505 @gotavansleep @ohsorrythen @makeandshift @majknn @hauntedmorgue @greenandyellowfroggies @il0vetopgunnn @rosylnsworld @the-mrs-malik-styles @wakemeupshaking014 @cannotgetoverit @fuckfuckshitfuck @arielijog @slutt4siriusblack @daintyseiren @jimins-favblackie @jollysportsflowerbailiff @nevergonnaloveagain-hey @jimmyjimjim123 @benzodiazepines-withdrawal @xxepherr @buckys-goodgirl @vicravluv @mavericksice @buckybarnesandmarvel @d1g1talxgf @aomi-nabi @colddarkearthworm @raven18 @idkwtfimdoing2 @urfavhornyperson @deliciouskittenarbiter @inhibitionfreewriting

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 12.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit!

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11.

word count: 5,5K

tag: #the game of teaching body

author's note: Ok guys, this is it! My hands are shaking as I'm publishing it. Thank you all so, so much, for all the kind comments, for the freakin' art (like what? fanart? of my writing? I'm still gagged over it!), for reblogging, placing messages in my inbox, for everything! Something that was supposed to drag my attention away from the temporary shittiness of my life, has turned into a full-blown passion, as currently I am drafting three new fics and working on all your awesome requests and I wouldn't be doing it without your encouragement. Thank you.

(disclaimer: I have a request for the opposite of the situation happening here, coming soon!)

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

You noticed Viktor’s breath coming in short, uneven pants, his face twisted—not with pleasure, but something else entirely. His movements faltered, his grip tightening on your shoulder for balance before he suddenly stilled. His hands dropped to the desk on either side of your hips, fingers digging into the surface as though bracing against some invisible force.

“Wait,” he murmured, his voice low and strained, as though fighting off something within himself. His head hung down, strands of hair clinging to his damp forehead.

Alarmed, you scanned his body, searching for a clue. “Viktor?” you whispered, your voice steady despite the concern that thrummed through you. But he didn’t respond.

With a frustrated groan, Viktor slipped away from you, grabbing a pillow from the bed to shield himself as he limped toward the armchair. Every step was stiff and uneven until he finally collapsed into it, stretching his leg out with a sharp hiss. “Fucking cramp,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his hand rubbing at his thigh.

“Where?” You hopped off the desk immediately, pulling your sweatshirt over your head as you hurried to his side. You knelt beside him, your hands already seeking out the problem. “Let me see.”

His body tensed further, his lips pressing into a hard line as his free hand rose to cover his face. Anger, frustration, and something darker flickered across his expression. Embarrassment, no—shame. He was a man who hated to feel weak, and this moment—vulnerable, raw—clawed at his pride.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, but the pained wince that followed betrayed him.

You softened your voice, making it as non-threatening as possible. “Viktor,” you urged, your fingers hovering just above his thigh. “Show me.”

For a moment, you thought he’d refuse. His jaw worked as though grinding back a retort, but the tension in his leg won out. With a reluctant nod, he guided your hands to the offending muscle. You worked slowly, methodically, your fingers finding the knotted muscle and easing into it with unpractised care. Viktor leaned back, his head tipping against the armchair with a low, shuddering exhale. You glanced up at him occasionally, careful to give him space, but unable to stop the flickers of affection that crossed your face.

When the cramp finally loosened, Viktor’s body sagged with relief. His hand fell from his face, but his brows were still knitted together, his mouth almost invisible, save for a line. He looked... defeated.

You leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his knee, a wordless gesture of comfort, before reaching for the pillow. You straddled his lap, intent on drawing him back, or rather away from this. But just as your lips hovered above his, Viktor’s hands came up, catching you by the shoulders and halting your movement.

“Wait, I—” Viktor exhaled heavily, his eyes darting anywhere but yours. His chest rose and fell in short, uneven breaths, the frustration in his face giving way to disgust. “This is… strongly unattractive.” He offered you a sad, apologetic smile, one that left his eyes empty. It was a weak defence, a brittle mask to cover the discomfort roiling beneath. He didn’t want you to see him like this—not yet, maybe not ever. “I’m… sorry.”

Your lips curled into a soft, teasing smile. “Are you joking? A hot man in need of aid? In my books, that’s strongly attractive.” Your tone was light, your fingers weaving gently through his hair as though trying to coax him back to you. “Any other… affliction I could be of assistance with?”

But Viktor’s smile faded completely. “Please, stop,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it almost cracked. His body stiffened beneath you, his hand rising to cover his face again. He didn’t push you away, but the gesture was louder than words.

As if on cue, your hand slipped over his, tugging it gently away. “Let me in,” you whispered, your voice a soft, disarming plea. You rubbed your nose against his cheek, your warmth melting into him, your presence grounding him. Viktor’s breath hitched, a shallow inhale slipping through his parted lips. He was never this close to anyone—not like this. His heart was never this close to opening, his fears never this close to crawling into the light.

“How did this happen?” you asked, your fingers trailing behind you to graze the tense muscle of his thigh.

Viktor hesitated; his gaze fixed somewhere on the space between you. His teeth tugged at his lower lip, and when he finally spoke, his voice was distant, almost clinical. “Rotated femur. Just… a bad case.”

He didn’t elaborate, and he didn’t have to. Your mind worked quickly, piecing together everything you knew about him, every detail you’d catalogued. The timeline was clear, the reasons obvious, but you made the deliberate choice not to probe further. Instead, you placed a gentle hand on his chest, your touch steady and reassuring. “You’re okay,” you said softly, trying to guide him somewhere lighter, somewhere safer.

Viktor’s chest fluttered beneath your hand, his breaths uneven and shallow, each one giving away his hesitation. His eyes flicked to yours briefly before darting away again, the vulnerability in that fleeting glance leaving him feeling exposed. He gripped the armrest of the chair tightly, his knuckles whitening, as though he were bracing himself for something he couldn’t name. The silence between you stretched like a pained muscle.

For a long moment, he stayed like that—closed off, his expression unreadable save for the tightening of his jaw and the way his lips pressed into a thin line. But then, slowly, his grip on the armrest slackened, his shoulders dropping as though releasing a burden. He didn’t speak, but something shifted in his gaze as he looked at you again. It was tentative, unsure, but there was a crack in the armour—a fragile permission.

You saw it immediately, the subtle easing of his posture, the way his eyes softened despite the war still raging inside him. You stayed still, letting the moment settle, your touch light and unintrusive. Your thumb traced soothing circles over his chest, your movements careful, watching for even the smallest sign of discomfort. When none came, your fingers drifted to his thigh again, the tension there still palpable under your gentle ministrations.

“You can tell me to stop,” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes searching his for any flicker of doubt. But instead of resistance, there was something else entirely—a flicker of trust, raw and unpolished, but unmistakable.

“So... how do we not make it upset?” you asked carefully, leaning forward to rest against his chest, your palm cradling his cheek. Your voice was calm, your touch light, but Viktor’s body tensed beneath you again, the rigidity in his frame speaking volumes. The answer, when it came, wasn’t surprising.

“We don’t ask questions about it,” Viktor huffed, his tone carrying a faint edge, though it softened as his hand began to move idly up and down your back. His touch was a distraction, deliberate and almost subconscious, as though trying to steer the moment away from his discomfort. But the heaviness lingered—how had this spiralled from intimacy to a conversation about his leg? The absurdity of it all made him feel drained, a long sigh escaping him.

“But I never asked you,” you murmured quietly, your lips pressing to the curve of his neck. Your words lingered, warm against his skin, as your fingers trailed through his hair. “And I seek to correct my mistake.” You whispered the words like a secret, your tone so tender it nearly disarmed him. Viktor clenched his jaw, the growing ache in his chest conflicting with the faint spark of heat your presence stirred.

“You read me like a book. And here I am, still wondering… what gets you off,” you teased softly, your playful tone a deliberate shift away from the seriousness he so clearly wanted to avoid.

“Definitely not questions about my leg,” Viktor groaned, pulling back slightly, though his lips twitched in reluctant amusement. He let out an exasperated sigh, wiggling just enough to escape the trail of kisses you left along his neck. “Please, let’s sit this one out.”

Even though the warmth of your weight on him stirred something deep in his core, the shame pressed harder, suffocating, and unrelenting. He tried to muster an apologetic smile, but it fell flat, and the tension returned like a phantom haunting his every breath.

“Do you trust me?” you asked, adjusting yourself on his lap, your hands cupping his face with intent. This wasn’t about sex anymore, and Viktor could see it in your eyes. You weren’t looking for fun or distraction. You were asking for something bigger, something he wasn’t sure he could give.

“Of course,” he replied without hesitation, his voice steady despite the storm inside. But then, with a small, bitter laugh, he added, “Though I know exactly what’s coming next. You’re going to ask me when I’m comfortable, and we’ll never have fun sex again because you’ll forever burn this moment into your brain as a pity party for the cripple.” His words were dry, calculated, but the flash of frustration in his eyes betrayed him. “Which I am, by the way. But that’s beside the point.”

“Viktor, I don’t care if—”

“You are not allowed to say ‘cripple,’ it’s my word only,” he cut you off, his tone clipped as his eyes fixed on you. Your lips twitched in a half-smile as you rolled your eyes in response, your patience endless.

“I don’t care if you’re an Olympic athlete or a chess world champion,” you continued with exaggerated care, your voice steady, measured. “I want to know what gets you off. No more, no less.”

Your thumb brushed softly against his cheek, a small, grounding gesture that made Viktor’s jaw tighten for just a moment before he let out a slow breath. “And I won’t force you to do or say anything,” you added gently, your words laced with sincerity. “But I’m asking you to reconsider, given that you are in a safe space.”

He studied you for a long moment, his gaze flickering over your face, searching for something—doubt, insincerity, any crack in your words he could latch onto. But there was none. Just your calm, unwavering presence.

“And this is your request?” he asked finally, raising an eyebrow, though his tone lacked the sharpness it held before.

“This is my request,” you said plainly, your bluntness somehow soothing, disarming. You leaned in to kiss his forehead, a tender gesture that made him close his eyes, his resistance softening like ice melting under the warmth of spring sunlight.

You let him gather his strength. You stayed close, your movements deliberate and slow, as though any sudden action might startle him into retreat. Your hand slid to his chest, resting there lightly, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart. You waited, not speaking, letting the weight of your presence fill the space between you.

Viktor’s fingers twitched at his sides, then hesitated before coming to rest lightly against your hips. His grip was tentative, almost unsure, but he didn’t pull you closer or push you away. His silence stretched out, but in it, something shifted—a small crack in the wall he’d built, a mute permission.

You tilted your head, your gaze fixed on his, waiting for a sign—any sign—that his discomfort was easing. It came in the form of his breath, no longer shallow but slow and steady, his shoulders relaxing by degrees. The corners of his mouth twitched faintly, almost imperceptibly, as though he was trying to let you in but didn’t quite know how.

“I’m here,” you whispered softly, your words more a reassurance than a prompt. “Whatever you’re ready to share—or not—it doesn’t change anything.”

Viktor’s eyes lifted to yours, and for a moment, the battle within him seemed to subside. He didn’t speak, but the look he gave you said enough. A faint vulnerability glimmered there, a quiet acceptance of your presence, even if he wasn’t ready to bare everything yet.

He sighed, the weight of it carrying the burden of his struggle outside of his body. Damn you.

“Let’s see,” he trailed, his hands moving to rest on your thighs, his touch light but grounding. “I thoroughly enjoyed our last time,” he admitted, his words tentative at first, but gaining confidence as he felt your weight settle more comfortably on him. “And it was… comfortable,” he added thoughtfully, as though revealing a truth he hadn’t quite allowed himself to accept before.

You smiled, leaning into his warmth, your hand brushing softly over his shoulder. You didn’t push, didn’t rush him, giving him the space to guide the conversation.

“Standing, eh, is not my forte, as you saw,” he continued, his hand trailing off to the side as his gaze followed, lingering somewhere beyond you. His voice was steady, but you could hear the faintest hint of self-deprecation beneath it.

“It’s not my favourite either,” you mused, your fingers threading gently through his hair, tucking a loose strand behind his ear. You could feel the subtle shift in his body as he relaxed beneath your touch.

“Don’t lie, you liked it. I saw you,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger at your face, though the glint of amusement in his irises betrayed him.

Your laugh was soft, playful. “I liked it because it was with you,” you breathed, your voice carrying a teasing innocence. You leaned in to place a sweet kiss on his lips, feeling his judgmental hand fall back to your thigh.

His grip tightened slightly, and a sly smirk curved his lips. With a sudden, playful jolt of his hips, he snapped you out of your little act, making you gasp in surprise before laughter bubbled out of you again.

“I like when you suck on my thumb,” he said, his voice lower now, softer, yet carrying an unmissable heat. His hand rose, pressing the pad of his thumb gently against your lips. You parted them immediately, your lips warm and soft as you took him in without hesitation. Your eyes fluttered shut at the quiet praise that followed, his voice like a thread of warmth weaving through you.

“Just like that,” he murmured, his tone laced with a mix of encouragement and wonder. His thumb moved, brushing against your tongue, the sensation grounding him in the present moment.

You opened your eyes to find his gaze fixed on you, his expression softened, the guarded edge that usually shielded him nowhere to be seen. Vulnerability still lingered, but now it was met with acceptance, even a flicker of confidence.

“You’re good at this,” you teased, your words a whisper as you gently pulled his hand away to press a kiss against his knuckles. “Being open.”

His laugh was quiet, a breath more than a sound, but it was genuine. “Don’t get used to it,” he warned, though the slight smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

You simply leaned in, resting your forehead against his, your weight steady but light enough to remind him that you would follow his lead. “One step at a time,” you murmured, your hand resting over his heart.

In your touch, in your gaze, Viktor found a quiet reassurance that spoke louder than any words. And for the first time, the fear that had gripped him so tightly began to loosen, slipping away into the quiet intimacy you had built together.

“I like to see you,” Viktor murmured, his voice soft yet steady, as his hand cupped your face lovingly. “Doesn’t matter if you’re on top or I am,” he continued, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. “Though I have to admit, this setup you got us in here is… appealing.” His lips curved into a faint smirk before he pulled you closer, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was as tender as it was deliberate.

“Oh, and I will never say no to a good head,” he whispered against your mouth, the teasing edge in his tone mirrored by the smirk tugging at his lips.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, your eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “A good head? Are you trying to tell me something?” you quipped, shifting your hips against his, eliciting a groan that vibrated through him.

“I’m not complaining,” he replied innocently, though the way his hands tightened on your hips betrayed his composure. He rolled his hips beneath you, his movements fluid, deliberate, and taunting. “All I’m saying is that practice makes perfect, and I am… willing to be your study buddy,” he finished, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction as the corners of his mouth quirked upward in a smile.

You found yourself slightly breathless at his audacity, but you refused to falter. Instead, you leaned in closer, your teeth grazing his lower lip in playful retaliation. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” you teased, your voice low, though it carried a spark of mischief that only made his grin widen.

The tension between you shifted, turning softer, as Viktor let out a quiet, contented sigh. His body, once taut with uncertainty, now felt pliant beneath you. A gentle heat spread through his veins, chasing away the lingering shadows of shame and fear. For a moment, he simply gazed at you, his expression thoughtful, as though weighing his next words carefully.

“I... want to be wanted,” he finally confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of his honesty. “I want you to want me—not to see me as—”

He faltered, his brows knitting together as his words trailed off. His hand moved to rest over yours where it lay on his chest, grounding himself in your touch. Viktor’s gaze searched yours, wary yet hopeful, as though testing the waters of how much more he could bare to you.

You tilted your head, your fingers lacing gently with his as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t,” you said softly, your tone steady and resolute. “I see you as you, as exactly who you are. Consider me… bewitched.”

A wave of affection swept through him, soothing the raw edges of his vulnerability. You didn’t push, didn’t demand anything more from him than what he was willing to give, and it was in that quiet understanding that Viktor felt something shift.

It wasn’t just trust—it was something deeper, something that made the walls he had so carefully built around himself tremble and, piece by piece, begin to fall.

“And Viktor, I want you… so, so much,” your voice barely a whisper against his mouth as you gave him a longing kiss, your hands cradling his face as though he was the most precious thing in the world.

Your words ignited a spark deep within him, fanning the embers of confidence that had smouldered under layers of doubt. Viktor’s hesitation began to wane, replaced by something more primal and eager. His lips moved against yours with renewed hunger, his body responding to you in ways he could no longer suppress.

He hummed, the sound low and rumbling, as his hands found your waist and pulled you closer, his movements deliberate yet restrained, like a man rediscovering his footing. “Hmm, tell me how much do you want me,” he muttered hoarsely against your lips, his breath fanning over your face.

His hands travelled lower, gripping your ass as he guided your movements, your tongues tangling in a slow rhythm. You rolled your hips lazily on his cock, feeling him grow hard beneath you, his groan vibrating through you as you murmured, “So, so much, it hurts. Fuck me, Viktor,” against his lips.

Viktor let out a low chuckle, the sound rich with both amusement and arousal. “Ask me nicely,” he teased, his voice steady now, laced with a familiar confidence that sent shivers down your spine.

Your gaze locked with his, a flicker of playful frustration dancing in your eyes as you bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. His hands slid under your sweatshirt, cupping your breasts with deliberate tenderness, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made you gasp softly.

A tremor ran through you as you exhaled, your fingers threading through his hair. You hesitated, your pride momentarily warring with your desire before you finally gave in. You voice was quiet but filled with emotion as you whispered, “Please, make love to me, Viktor.”

The words melted over him, and he felt last bits of doubts leaving him. His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you deeply, his lips warm and unhurried against yous. This wasn’t just about reclaiming your passion—it was about finding something sacred in the spaces between your bodies, something that belonged only to you and Viktor.

Without breaking the kiss, his hand travelled between your bodies, and you could feel his fingers playing idly at your entrance. He couldn’t fight a smile blooming on his lips when he found out how much indeed you wanted him—your core hot and fluttering on his tender skin as he lazily guided the head of his cock inside.

It was easy to claim you. It was easy to be with you now. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, and you both let out soft groans of relief, filling each other's gaps. For a moment, neither of you moved, letting gentle twitches of your connection guide the growing feeling of pleasure bubbling between you.

Viktor started with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips; it was almost painful, and he felt himself wanting more and less at the same time. With a quiet gesture, he started rocking your hips on top of his, letting you find her own flow. When he felt your movements grow more balanced, he handed the control over to you and savoured the sight of you swaying on top of him. You lazy, sensual rhythm carried both of you in tandem, as your bodies grew closer and closer together. He got himself busy with kissing your neck and kneading the flesh of your ass.

As your rhythm grew more frantic, the strain of holding back visible in your furrowed brow, he pulled you closer by the back of your neck and muttered into your ear, “Touch yourself for me.”

It was both a command and a plea, and you placed your timid hand where your bodies met. You felt momentarily exposed as Viktor’s eyes studied your face, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You held his gaze and seeing there was nothing else but admiration in it, you put yourself on display for him. You let him take in your face, the movement of your wrist, all the quiet sounds you made as your hips stuttered and you came on his cock with a loud “Fuck!” muffled by his neck.

He watched you, fascinated, his own mouth agape, as he felt your walls clenching around him. His own pressure was rising, when he pulled you closer, caging your arms with his and let his thrusts take over. He pushed his hips up with a gentle force, your body already melting around him, as he traced a slick trail up your neck with his tongue.

Seeing his searching eyes and the strain in his forehead, you leaned in and encouraged him with a barely audible, “Come for me.” Viktor’s breath grew hot, and you swallowed the moan he gave you when you whispered a quiet praise against his skin. “You fuck me so well.”

“Fuck, I’m—” he squeezed you flush against him, as the final pants and groans fell from his mouth and he spilled himself inside you, his face pressed against you neck. Feeling him shift beneath you, you hugged him tighter and soothed him with a soft, “Stay."

You remained straddled on his lap, your bodies cooling together in the quiet aftermath. Your fingertips traced lazy, featherlight patterns over his shoulders, grounding you both in the stillness. Viktor's hands rested on your hips, his thumbs brushing absentmindedly over your skin, as though to memorise the moment. Only your breaths, soft and calm spilled into the silence of Viktor’s room.

***

“Of course. Breaking the law, as usual,” Viktor smirked, catching you smoking a cigarette outside the window in between a study session with Sue. “How many times do you think I should let this go?”

“Three,” you deadpanned. “I will have one more that way.” You were so fucking tired. And Sue was completely useless, already snoring soundly in your room.

“How is it going?” he asked, plucking the cigarette from your fingers and taking a drag. You shuffled on your feet with a long sigh and shook your head. “I don’t know. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to learn all of this in such a short time and then remember it for the rest of my life.”

“You are not. You will forget it briefly, and then it will come back,” he said, passing the cigarette back to you.

“The visions of the future,” you murmured, tracing your open hand toward the window, as if it held the vision itself. “The only future I see is the break. Unless I fail. Then, possibly Starbucks.”

Viktor scoffed. So dramatic. “Such a baby,” he muttered, tracing his thumb over the swell of your lips. It was tender, and he wanted to tell you he was proud of you.

The last time had stirred something very scary within him. His guard was down, ruined. It was never coming back up—it was so ruined. So, he had to be sure. But now, of course, wasn’t the time. You were elbows deep in genetics, chemistry, and other subjects that Viktor had no interest in.

“I think I should switch departments,” you sighed, the sound too heavy for a joke, even though it was, and you smiled weakly. Viktor only blinked slowly, taking the cigarette back.

“Eh, you are doing great. I was much worse during your year.” He hugged you with one arm, the other lifting the cigarette to your lips. You raised your brows in question, though no answer came.

“My mother says changes are good.” This time you put more effort into the joke. “Though she also tells me to wear red knickers to exams and tests, so… I don’t know how trusted she can be.”

“Oh, they work. How do you think I am where I am?” He chuckled, warming your shoulders with his hands. The rumble of his laughter carried itself through you, down, down to your toes. “Not all changes are possible, though.”

“Viktor, if you’ve changed, anything can.” Your voice was wistful, as if you didn’t know what you were saying.

He hadn’t changed.

“I haven’t changed, though, have I?” A hysterical thought tore through him. “Look at us, back here, at the beginning. You, deep in thoughts, and me—” Deep in love with you.

“Viktor, what… what are you doing?” You blinked, unsure. He was stalling. His shoulder left yours as he leaned against the windowsill, just like he did then. You put the cigarette out and flicked it outside. “Do you want to talk about something?”

“Not really, I’m just stating a fact.” I want to tell you; I just have to be sure.

“Fact being?” You swallowed it down—the fear that had started crawling up your throat. You smothered it and pushed it back down, bitter on your tongue.

“That some things don’t change.” He made sure to sound unfazed, to make it sound non-threatening, just natural—an obvious truth about him.

“Why are you being so defensive?” you asked, your eyes narrowing.

“I just… don’t want you to jump into something you’re not sure of.” You have to be sure. He allowed himself a shrug and a faint eye roll for the effect. He watched you, your body completely still as you watched him back.

“I haven’t jumped anywhere yet,” you said, measuring your words, gathering your composure. A month ago, it would have made you claw his eyes out, but now you knew. Because you felt the same. He loved you, and he feared it, and you felt the same. “I’ve barely dipped my toes.”

“What are you saying?” Were you saying what he thought you were saying? It felt like a challenge, and for once, he didn’t like it. It felt more serious than back at the beginning. He had more to lose now. “What do you want from me, really?” He meant to keep it in his thoughts, but it shot out.

“Change is inevitable. I don’t want games. I want you.” A countdown of statements. Dry and measured, said with no affection, just stating facts, like he was. Was that why it had felt so hollow?

“You can’t just walk into a relationship with the intent to change somebody. I won’t. This won’t,” his voice rose dangerously, echoing through the empty corridor. He pointed to his leg and pushed his cane firmly into the floor, as if to steady himself.

“That’s not what I said. I wouldn’t change a thing about you. I’m merely saying that changes happen,” you said firmly, letting your arms drop from their defensive cross on your chest.

He hesitated. You were right, somehow, and he was right as well. “What do you want from me?” Just say it. So I can be sure.

“Do I have to know now?”

It was so different from your fight in the snow. He had guarded himself back up, came prepared. You had to improvise. No, you knew. You knew him already. He’d said he’d give you his princess heart, and he did, and now he was asking if you would take it.

“I have to know now,” a shuddering breath escaped him. I have to know now because I won’t be able to walk away later. I have to know now. I have to know now.

“I… brood. I put my work first because it’s the only thing I had for the longest time. I will become boring. And this will become hard,” he began counting it down and couldn’t see the end. “I am… aware that people grow apart. I accept it. But—”

“Viktor,” you interjected. “Why are we talking about growing apart when we haven’t even started anything properly?”

“Because it’s important. And because… yesterday. What you did yesterday, I don’t think I—” I don’t think I can live without it.

You stared at him, breathing evenly, as if you were forcing the breaths inside you.

“You haven’t seen me at my worst. You really haven’t,” he added, noticing you formulating a scoff. Each word was such a strain. Each and every one tried to crawl back down, deep into his stomach, and stir there with all the bile and cigarette smoke.

“I get so jealous. I get so angry. I get angry because I can’t fuck you the way I want to. My leg hurts, and I remember everything. I never forget anything. I will use everything I can against you if it comes to it. So what do you want from me?”

“All of it.” Blunt, almost painful.

He pleaded weakly with your name on his lips. He was so tired. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself.

“I want it all. Now, and later. I will keep it safe.” I will keep your heart safe; I promise. “Viktor, I also remember everything. I get jealous and angry. I will use the things you didn’t want to say against you, probably, and I’ll regret it after. I’ve beaten you up in the snow. What you’re describing is human.” I love all your human things.

All the while, you stood at arm’s length. Viktor came closer, swallowing it all down. The words he had said let themselves out, and he swallowed your words too—they coated his stomach with warmth. He swallowed it all down, awash in it.

He pulled you in, slowly, his touch tentative. “Okay,” his breath fanned over her face. “Okay.” I love you so, so much that it hurts.

“I think… I’m in love with you.”

He thought a current of vomit would take him, but it didn’t. Instead, it was your hands holding his as you stared at him, wearing your sweatshirt with a torn collar and his boxer shorts, barefoot, a blanket loosely wrapped around you.

“I love all of you. I promise,” you whispered, meaning it with all your fluttering heart. And Viktor knew you meant it. He knew by the way your hands cradled his ribs, your body slotted in with his so he could feel the drum of your chest. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you tightly and allowing himself a relaxed exhale, which felt like the first one he had ever taken, as the game was truly over, and you both had won.

[churipu]

Hi can I request the jjk men (toji, yuji, yuta, sukuna) with an s/o who doesn’t show any emotions?? If you do thank youu. <3

JJK MEN + "NO EMOTIONS" PARTNER 𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

featuring. toji fushiguro, itadori yuuji, yuuta okkotsu, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, soft and ooc toji and sukuna :(

note. hi hi nonnie :( sorry for the very late update to your ask — uni has been busy lately, but i promise all my inbox is going to be emptied, even if it takes long.

TOJI FUSHIGURO. he tries to make you show emotions — teasing you, annoying you, anything that could make you be at least a little emotional; whether it is happy or sad (kidding, he wants you to be happy all times).

toji doesn't actually mind. but he wanted you to be more reactive of his teasing, because he didn't get the point of teasing if you weren't angry at him. instead of you being angry, or telling him that he should stop, all he got was a nod and an "it's okay".

so the top of his bucket list was to break down this emotionless wall of yours.

preparing a snack for both you and toji at movie night, you spent your sweet time in the kitchen. waiting for the popcorn to cook, when suddenly he stomped inside, boldly asking you, "what the fuck do we have for snacks?"

seeing you flinch in surprise, toji awaited your answer. ready to receive a mouthful of angry words, but all you did was stare at him with those beautiful doe e/c eyes of yours — and you meekly said, "popcorn."

the male's gaze softened as he reaches his hand out to you, "don't ever let me talk to you like that ever again," he pulled you into a warm embrace, "got it?"

you nod, "okay."

he never does that again.

ITADORI YUUJI. opposites attract. opposites attract. opposites attract. i said what i said. yuuji finds you amusing, especially the way you're always so unbothered about . . . everything? he asks himself how you're able to do that, and tries to find out the anatomy behind it. which ended up leaving him more clueless than ever.

you get a cut on a mission? you were just okay. you get hit by something that wasn't directed at you? okay. you get insulted? okay. it was okay, okay, and okay with you.

although, the male is a firm believer that even you — could feel hurt sometimes. after all, you are still human, right? so he's always the one telling people off for you, even if you tell him that it's not needed and that you were okay. yuuji doesn't believe in that.

"hey, piss off — don't say that about my partner." yuuji glares at a male, eyeing him up and down in menace.

"yuuji, let's go," you grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him away from the scene, and yuuji was still giving out stink eyes to the same male, motioning his finger across his neck like a threat.

even if you didn't manage to express it, you were very very thankful for him. because he is right. you do feel hurt at times, but it was something you hear a lot so you don't bother.

YUUTA OKKOTSU. honestly, he gets pretty intimidated at first. he's always so fidgety around you — it's pretty funny. but when he actually got to know you, yuuta's a little surprised that you could crack out jokes (unknowingly), and everyone ends up laughing . . . except for you.

he's really attracted to you. and rika, well, she wasn't the keenest on knowing that (she tried to hurt you) — but yuuta was there to tell her off nicely. rika still didn't like you at all, she tolerates you at times, but after a mission with yuuta, where you found yourself in a position of taking a blow meant for him. rika still hates you (not), it's getting there, she didn't want to kill you. that's progress.

"why did you do that?!" yuuta ran towards you, grabbing your upper arm, pulling you up.

". . . do what?" you asked nonchalantly before wincing out in pain.

and i guess, ever since then, yuuta has been stuck to your hip. he gets really excited to see you, even if you don't look as excited. but still — something about you attracts him, which eventually leads to the both of you dating.

still the same, you barely show any emotions. barely. that was also progress, with him, you could actually be honest with your feelings. but with anyone else? big no.

yuuta feels very honored. protects you. tells rika to protect you. he's so in love with you.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. oh, he despises it a lot. this man, he isn't satisfied if he doesn't get a reaction out of you — which he doesn't. most of the time. at most, you're going to brush him off and walk away, which he deemed as "being angry", but he's just embarrassed because it's not often someone brushes him off just like that.

kind of like a love language. he teases you to show affection, but when you don't react. it's like a punch to the gut, like you don't acknowledge his love for you.

but sukuna would never say that out loud.

despite that, you also had a way of showing love to him. it's not one of the 5 main love languages, but it works for him. sukuna pretends not to know, but he knows. and he secretly loves it.

you always. always without forgetting a day, scribble down on a post it note and leaving it somewhere that sukuna always notices. whether it being on the fridge stuck to a magnet, on the kitchen island, on the coffee table in the living room, by the corner of the bathroom mirror, by the snack cabinet. sukuna could always find at least three in a day, randomly stuck around.

and on the note, it would just be a random "i love you" or a cute doodle of animals holding a heart or a flower for him. he didn't ask you why you do it the first few times and just goes along with it, secretly keeping them all in a secret place where he makes sure you weren't going to find out.

"why'd y'keep leaving these random notes everywhere?" sukuna grunted.

"why? should i stop?" oh, sukuna was actually a bit mortified at the thought of not finding anymore notes specifically made for him, so he could only be silent, "doesn't matter what you think — i like making 'em."

oh, thank god.

he never questions you on it ever again in fear that you'd actually stop.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[tsukilunatic]

hi im craving yechan sb i need your thoughts on him hehe

that's so crazy coz i've been craving yechan lately too (i'm craving yechan all the time actually!) also i feel like i say this for every post but i'm so sorry this took so long for me to reply to

now. general yechan ideas...

the first thing that comes to my mind is just. munch yechan. that's it that's the whole post.

like when yechan eats you out he takes it SERIOUS. like he would spend hours between your legs if you let him. biggest munch in the group fr. like, he would find any excuse he could to get his mouth on you. like he's the type to text you out of the blue like "im bored. can i come over and eat u out?" (NO HELLO?? NO HI HOW ARE YOU???)

he loves eating you out partially because he loves hearing you moan. he's obsessed with it, actually! he'd say something like "don't be afraid to make noise, pretty girl. there's no one else around." and he'd say that even if he knows everyone else is home. menace.

also. he's a messy eater. as in, he'd spread your cum all over your thighs, and it would be all over his face too, maybe even some in his hair... and he'd say something like "you're such a messy girl..." even though he's the reason why you're both covered in cum in the first place.

random idea. fuckboy!yechan who literally just wants to fuck you. like maybe a frat au or something. where you're fwb with him and you're complaining to his face about how he never listens to you or whatever.

and he's just there (his ass is NOT listening!!) waiting for you to finish. and at some point he just gets fed up with waiting and pulls you in by your waist and kisses you to shut you up. ...yeah.

this is another feral idea but. somno with boyfriend!yechan, anyone?? like, not in a pervy way, but more in a "if i wear this scrunchie to bed... do whatever you want to me<3" kinda way. tying this back to the munch idea. he would 100% wake you up with head.

or, since someone recently sent a post about yechan pinning you down, there's also the argument that he'd pin you down and fuck you<3 i imagine dom!yechan as SUCH a pleasure dom, so he'd pin your hands to the bed and fuck you all nice and slow until you wake up. usually, i imagine yechan on the subby side, so i would imagine waking up to find him all messy and moaning into your ear...

but! you could also wake up to him just admiring you, teasing you about how you were moaning in your sleep... maybe saying something like "you take me so well, pretty girl... always so wet for me, even when you're asleep... did you dream of me?"

(also. i was gonna write more subby ideas but i've got a sub!yechan ask in my inbox, so... i'll save them for another time<//3)

[lia404]

I'll give you Yusaku for "Send me a Yugioh character" owo

AH. Ahaha. Oh my god, okay. So for context, your ask landed in my inbox exactly when I was struggling with formatting my "Yusaku birthday post." Which means it caught me at a point when I had even MORE feelings than I usually do for this boy. I apologise in advance: the answer about Kaiba may have been a wall of text, but I'm afraid this one will become a full skyscraper of text. So go grab some tea, coffee, biscuits, whatever makes you feel good for a break, then sit back and relax while I scream at you about how much I CARE for Yusaku Fujiki.

(Whatever happens remember that you asked for it.) (Thank you so much for this, too, even if I've spent a good part of my afternoon and all my evening and part of my night on it.) (By the way at this point I really won't feel insulted if no one reads it to the end, I think I mostly need to get it all out of my system.)

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD, in the form of headcanons and personal analyses of Yusaku's character and his relationships, along with multiple screenshots, gif, videos, all hidden behind the excuse of an ask meme (so it's still superficial in many parts, but I feel like it's a good overview.) I'm putting it all behind a cut since I know how to use them now. (Or do I? It's the 4th time I edit to put the cut back to the place it's meant to be at.)

----------- Also, keeping track so I stop getting lost in my own blog: The original Ask meme Seto Kaiba Spectre Aoi Zaizen I still answer for other characters so long as they're from DM or Vrains!

Why I like him/why I don’t

I think it's Yusaku's resilience that I like the most. He can be no-nonsense and harsh, but he's always honest, and he always stands up. It's striking, actually, how he always manages to keep standing.

He's thrown to the ground by life, by his enemies (interestingly, many declare they are his enemies when he's not even TRYING to alienate them, and just doesn't really care.) Even his allies are the reason why he ends up beaten up sometimes. And yet, he always get back up. It's very rare to see him fully crash, which makes it even more impactful when he does.

I'm just fascinated at how even at his lowest, at the biggest blows he receives, he stands up. His strive for life is remarkable, so much so that it sometimes almost feels like a curse. Just the same way he keeps winning and winning, because he's good, of course, but also because losing is not an option. He has to stand up and he keeps doing it for himself, for others, and still manages to feel guilty for not doing enough.

(I'm afraid you'll have to do with my French subtitles, I am NOT trying to find other streams just to make screencaps, these ones were hard enough to find.)

"Sorry, Kusanagi, your brother Jin has been taken and Lightning is menacing humanity and all of this is because I'm not strong enough."

Yusaku, FFS.

This is all heavily linked to the other aspect of his character I love most: Yusaku is so human. He's filled with hope. In one of the episodes of season 3, Revolver tells him to "stop thinking with his naive optimism".

And Playmaker clearly doesn't like it, look at this face.

But he still holds onto it until the end. He's not giving up until he's forced to (and even when it's done, he takes off and tries to find solutions.)

And Yusaku cares, he cares so much. He may seem heinous and gratuitously savage with the way he shuns Shima or Ai, but you have to go beyond the words. When Shima is captured, he literally runs to his rescue, barely waiting for the van to stop before he jumps out of it to check on his classmate. Shima and other people around, no matter how annoying, will also give occasional encouragements (often hidden behind a layer of backhanded compliments, because that's how Yusaku rolls.)

Yusaku makes sure that people around him are feeling alright. He comforts them. He may not use the nicest words, he has the sensitivity of an elephant let loose in a fine china shop, but his words usually strike right where they should. He helps. He gives a lot of himself for this, apparently not caring what other people think of it.

Goddamnit, Yusaku. Why are you trying to make me cry.

And this, actually, paradoxically, might be the only thing I dislike for him. It's not even about HIM per se (he may not be perfect but I am able to admit I'm too biased to not have a hard time finding him any flaws.) It's the way he gives so much of himself for everyone leads not only to people relying on him a lot, they also tend to take him for granted. And it pisses me off. Yusaku doesn't really fight against it, which, understandable considering his character, his backstory, everything. But sometimes I wish he could stop being the hero of Link VRAINS, because he's spreading himself too thin, and he had to break at some point. Or multiple times.

What I like about his appearance

I am trying SO hard to stop myself from waxing all kinds of poetics on him, so for this once I'll go with the most obvious: his EYES.

(Yes this was all a shameless excuse to flood you with close-ups of Yusaku and Playmaker's beautiful, vibrant eyes.)

The colour is striking, of course, especially in contrast with his or Playmaker's hair. But also, for someone meant to be aloof and stoic, Yusaku's eyes are hella expressive. His eyebrows only emphasise it, and actually, this is another trait I really like: Playmaker's eyebrows are orange. Playmaker is a real red-head! It makes me irrationally happy. It's the little details, folks, and Yusaku definitely pays more attention to them than most would expect.

And the second aspect of his appearance I just can't omiss...

...Well, that's his smile, of course! If only he had reasons to smile more often. Look at him; no matter how terrible the situation, he manages to smile.

This one is from when he says goodbye to Kusanagi before the final duel agains Ai. It's honestly quite tragic, but here he is. Smiling. Why is no one in this series protecting this smile. What are they all DOING.

Anyway, I've been writing for way too long already and I still have TOO MUCH to say so that's it for the appearance. He's adorable, he's beautiful, he's gorgeous.

Do I prefer his dub names or original names?

You'd think the question is not relevant since his name is the same in both, BUT. There's actually a massive difference. I can't take the dub version's stressed Yu'SAku seriously when in Japanese it's very clearly 'YUUsaku. Also, watching parts of the dub has been very amusing once I accepted that it was a parody, but there's not much to keep. Not even the pronunciation of a name. So I'm going with original, no hesitation.

OTP

Okay, another obvious one. If you've been following me you have noticed the ridiculous amount of Datastormshipping I put in your feed.

Evil smile besties ftw.

And YET.

It's so hard to ship them seriously. There's so much to repair. I can't see them all lovey-dovey, they have to work for it, and work HARD. Because Playmaker is just... so completely defanged when he's in front of Revolver. And Revolver, while actually acting in the shadow to support Playmaker so many times in the course of 120 episodes, never spares him a kind word, a nice face, except when he thinks he's dying.

I suspect he's not doing it consciously, but the way Revolver behaves makes me feel like he takes Playmaker for granted. It makes sense, considering their backstory: Revolver has obsessed over Playmaker and endangered people he cared about because of it. He has also proved multiple times that he is very intent to shoulder the full blame for an incident he had not much to do about, so he'd rather keep Playmaker and his "stupid faith in him" at a distance. But Revolver is also Playmaker's saviour, which makes it so Playmaker trusts him and can follow him blindly no matter what.

Eloquent: everyone is wary to follow, but Playmaker is first in line, not a hint of hesitation in spite of having no idea of what lies behind the portal.

For this reason, I'm actually happy with the Revolver event in Duel Links, in spite of all its writing flaws.

In the event, Playmaker feels Revolver with his Link Sense even before he arrives, which shows that he's still VERY attuned to Revolver. And in spite of this clear bond, Playmaker really stands against Revolver and asserts his beliefs with no room for negociation, something he hasn't done since the Tower of Hanoi (...and even then, arguably, he was trying to negociate.) He is not yielding no matter how important Revolver might be for him. And, at the end of the event, Revolver seems to be relieved to have met such resistance. He even sounds sort of supportive? It's open to interpretation, but my feeling was that he actually approved of Playmaker's doing and encouraged him. The Ghost Gal and Spectre events that followed emphasised it for me. They're clearly not fighting anymore, but they also don't have this weird blind spot for each other anymore.

With this approach, I feel like they'd have better roots for a relationship that would not lean towards codependence or other unhealthy bases.

Don't get me wrong, I adore the fluff, and Datastormshipping really is the obvious end goal for me, but for this ship what I love most is them having to work for it. Because even if they clearly trust each other, Yusaku will have to learn to NOT give all of himself blindly, and Ryoken will need to learn to actively LISTEN to Yusaku, and even make him speak.

(As a quick parenthesis, because I'll get back to this topic later and I'd rather not leave any ambiguity: as much as I resent him for his treatment of Yusaku, I absolutely adore Revolver, in this terrible love/hate dynamic that makes me hate to love him and love to hate him. In spite of everything, or maybe DUE to all of this, I really like his character. I'm not sure I'll ever write deep meta about him, though, because he's already had a lot written about him and I doubt I have much more to bring to discussions that happened years ago. But who know what time will bring? Anyway, Datastormshipping FTW.)

NOTP

BEWARE: unpopular opinion ahead. I actually can't see Aiballshipping.

Again, don't get me wrong: I see where the shippers come from, and I really don't hate the ship! I've read multiple doujin and fanfictions, I enjoy the content, I enjoy the art, I love the analyses of the ship... But I can't see it, because for me, it goes beyond a romantic relationship. Ai is literally a part of Yusaku. Him and Yusaku are a package, in a way: if someone wants to be with Yusaku, they'll also have to be with Ai. If someone says Yusaku "It's Ai or me", they'd better not expect to be chosen. I understand Aiballshipping. I like reading takes on it, I like reading stories about it. But to me, what Ai and Yusaku have is not romantic. It's something obvious, a given, almost fusional. They don't kiss; they can communicate without saying a word. (Even if they spend their time throwing jabs at each other out loud.) Any other romantic relationship will come in addition to it, without being replaced by it. So I don't "ship" it. It's very much not an OTP. I have no idea which verb I could use for it, though, because I'm not really sure it can be considered queerplatonic either.

OT3

Di-sas-ter-ship-ping! It's actually my main ship, even if there's not a lot of content. Sure, if we want to make it work in a nice healthy way, it's going to be quite the challenge. BUT not everything has to be serious and reasonable or even believable (I have datastormshipping for this) and seriously, the dynamic between these three has so much potential for wholesomeness, stupid arguments and general chaos. It's called disastershipping for a reason. (Not only this, I know, but still.)

Look at them, their smug poses and their stupidly form-fitting costumes. What could go wrong, right? <3

Favourite card he uses

Contrary to my answer re: Kaiba's deck, this time I am familiar with Playmaker's deck, because I play it AND I actually watched his duels multiple times to understand how he uses it. The fact is that even if there's the usual "I magically draw the exact card I need and use if without even looking at it" effect that is characteristic to Yu-Gi-Oh animes, his deck is solid and it really allows different kind of combos to always find workaround. (Doesn't mean I don't brick often, but not everyone can be Playmaker.)

So I actually have TWO favourite cards. The first one is my little love, usually one of the first to join the field: Backup Secretary.

She's beauty, she's grace, she's always here to help me link summon my ace. She's easy to use. She may not be the best one, but I'm so happy to have her in my deck—three times. I have multiple other cards that allow me to bring her in my hand. She never stays long on the field, since her specialty is to help summoning various types of Code Talkers, but she's a life saver. And seriously her design is awesome.

And the second one is, in my amateur point of view (I need to write the disclaimer that while I'm not BAD at duelling, I'm not exactly GOOD either and I miss a lot, lot, lot of subtleties) one of the best cards in Playmaker's deck: Recoded Alive.

This card is a lifesaver. It has multiple effects for different situations. It helps me avoid having an empty field when my opponent's field is filled with monsters. It's a trap, and allows me to switch monsters when attacked if I use it during the opponent's turn. It allows me to bring another monster to the field and have another attacking monster if I play it during my own battle phase.

And even if we want to remain focused on Playmaker's storyline, it's one of the most important ones Yusaku plays in the anime. It's always here for him since the beginning, and it has allowed him to bring back so many monsters. I mean, it basically wins him a duel against Revolver. It saves him against Ai. It's just... I love this card. It took me forever to understand how it works, but now it's hard to imagine a Playmaker deck without it.

Favourite moment(s) he was in

And here I thought I had already written enough. Well, we're here for a few more hours. I hope your tea has not gone cold.

I dare hope that you KNEW you shouldn't expect me to choose only ONE moment. There are so many. I can't satisfy myself with only one, I must bring up a few more, but not too many because this post is overwhelming enough as it is.

1. Season 1, when Playmaker goes against Akira to recover files in SOL's massive datbase. I can't begin to express how angry I was with the way Akira treats Yusaku. I know it was done in good faith, but having Akira tell Yusaku "go have a normal life, go out with your friends, enjoy your life as a teenager and prepare for your future, it's important" is just horribly condescending. It's SO satisfying to see Playmaker put the Zaizen, who always seem to think they know what he feels, or what is best for him, in their place. There's something incredibly satisfying in having Yusaku say "It is MY story and it is MINE to tell".

"I don't want the story of my past to be told by someone else."

Having Playmaker defend his story like this, and not let others take it or misinterpret it (especially when they feel like they "understand"), is, to me, a very powerful moment. And as if this wasn't enough, Yusaku adds a power move to it, adding a step in his final turn that he didn't have to do to win the duel: returning the two Tindangle cards representing Akira and Aoi to the hand rather than winning by leaving them both in the graveyard. When confronted about it, he answers that he doesn't want the siblings to be in the darkness of the graveyard, that his revenge should not implicate them and that they should walk towards the light. It is incredibly heartful, AND an amazing way to show Zaizen that he will never manage to "understand" Yusaku considering the mindset he keeps displaying. That was so badass, seriously. I wish the Zaizen had learnt more from it.

2. Season 2, after the duel against Kusanagi. Playmaker won and collapsed, not waking up. The second moment I like most is there, in Yusaku's head. It's intimidating... and slightly tragic.

"I have done enough. I'm tired."

Oh. It's been building up for so many episodes, they've been straining him so much, and finally, it happens. The quietest mental breakdown, the hint of depression. It makes him so human, so relatable suddenly, and yet it's so painful. I love this moment because it really brought me back to who he is: a 16 year old kid with a trauma bigger than himself and the expectations of a whole city (world?) on his shoulders. I'm glad he gets up again, but I'm also really glad that we get to see this part of him, so tragically realistic. Now let's wrap him in a blanket and hug him, okay?

3. Season 3: The "last nice moments in the real world". I wish we had had more of those in the whole course of the series, there was SO MUCH potential for it! Look at them being teenagers. Yusaku, so happy, confident and carefree as he is working for Kusanagi (and this apron makes him look so cute.) Yusaku, being pestered by Shima who wants to know where Playmaker is (WHY would Yusaku know? Shima has weird leaps of logic.) And Aoi and Yusaku having the most AWKWARD handshake, that instantly relieved me from the fear that Aoi might be a love interest.

"This is what high schoolers do I guess. Okay, we tried, we're done, completely uninteresting, let's move on now. When's our next trauma-session already?"

That's three moments I love, but I can't resist adding a last Painful Bonus: another moment of "let's make Playmaker suffer". I'm so sorry, Yusaku.

4. Season 3: Roboppi's death; the flashback to a younger Yusaku who has just built his cleaning robot and is SO proud, so happy and welcoming, and then Playmaker, broken, begging Soulburner to strike one last time and finish Roboppi.

I feel like his eyes, at that moment, are another reminder of his age. It's one of the most terrible scenes of the whole anime (I'd say ex-aequo with Ai's final words), it's masterfully executed, the pacing is amazing, the work on the expressions is amazing, the voice acting is incredible. But really, these eyes.

Least favourite moment

Two moments come to mind, and both are in the third season. You'll see there's a recurring theme, and more importantly, the fact that I really don't like these moments barely comes from Yusaku's role in them. Even if his personality encourages it.

1. The scene at the pier. It's REALLY, REALLY not Yusaku's fault, but he's still one of the two major protagonists so it counts as a "least favourite moment." Yusaku is going for the final fight, and Ryoken catches him, sends him and almost kills him with the card that will help him win the duel against Ai. I know this scene is considered one of the cornerstones of Datastormshipping, but all I can see is... Yusaku getting rejected, again, after saying goodbye to Kusanagi with a brave and grateful smile on his face, and just before having to destroy someone that is essentially a part of him. He calls Ryoken's name, and Ryoken keeps the most distance possible. I think it may have been one of the worst things Ryoken could have done, and even the fact that the Borrel dragon is actually a symbol of how much Ryoken believes in Yusaku,.. well, it would still be not enough to recover from the blatant, cold rejection Yusaku received at that moment. Ryoken, I know you couldn't find it in you to encourage him, but you only had to say his first name. Acknowledge him more than by coldly stating his complete name. And maybe NOT use the word "farewell" this time, because twice in the few first minutes of an episode is way too much. GOD FORBID Yusaku has any sort of support from Ryoken, that would encourage him to feel like they have a bond, the horreur. (Ugh.) With Playmaker knowing that Takeru would leave, Aoi would have Miyu, Kusanagi would have his brother, having Ryoken just... coldly ignoring all tentative of closeness, and leaving without looking back, WELL. It's no wonder Yusaku disappeared solo at the end. From his perspective, he had no one left.

2. Mission begin: everyone is ready to try and stop Ai, the plan is set and Playmaker is not part of any team since he's not even here. Except...

"We can't begin without Playmaker."

It annoys me so much, because the thing is, yes, yes you really can begin without Playmaker. And you should, Heaven's sake!

Many characters at this point have told him that they would understand if he didn't want to take part in this fight, that they would shoulder some of his burden and that he could rest and stay away for his health and sanity.

The thing is, Yusaku is not this kind of person. He will take responsbility and let no one else do the job in his stead. And he comes back, in a rather flashy way, EXACTLY when they're all expecting him. And barely anyone is surprised, they all look so relieved. They were waiting for this.

This moment leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth, because here is the problem with Playmaker: he's so good and reliable that people just... lean on him and wait for him to do the hard work. No matter how traumatising. I took screenshots of the many, many times people said "I leave it into your hands, Playmaker". "I know you"ll complete the job well, Playmaker." "I'm counting on you, Playmaker." I am not putting all of them here, but I have an album of these.

In doing so, they only enable his rather destructive hero-complex.

Destructive because, consider: he had a huge trauma when he was a kid and never fully recovered. When he finally learns and fights the truth behind this trauma, he feels like his revenge is over, but the person he'd spent years and years looking for is gone after treating him quite awfully. Additionally, he releases his new "hostage/friend" and goes back to being alone. He's been a hero, and all he got was: being alone again. Come Takeru, and somehow he acquires a sort of social circle. He's not really good at it, but it exists, and he even looks quite comfortable with it, if a bit awkward. Then he's forced to watch, powerless, as all his newfound friends/trusted persons get erased one after another, all of them with parting words expressing how much they trusted him to fix this. Way to make him feel like it's great to have friends and allies, uh. Then the humans come back, but the Ignis are dead, and he feels like he has failed his self-imposed mission to find a way to coexist. Ai is gone, Ryoken sort of gloats (I understand it's probably not what he intended, but it still feels awfully like it.) He's been a hero, and all he got was: more trauma about losing people, more responsibilities he shouldn't have to shoulder, and likely no one who understands the pain he's in because the world is safe now.

And then Ai comes back and everything goes upside down, and Yusaku lives in denial all beginning of season 3.

That's what makes it a self-destructive complex, for me. Every time he plays hero, Yusaku exposes himself to the things that hurt him most. He's never rewarded. And yet, he keeps doing it, and giving people what they want from him/taking responsibility for things that should NEVER be considered his responsibility. It drives me crazy.

Note: I have a similar beef with the "epilogue", in which they all have something nice to say about Playmaker, and they're all so certain that he's amazing, that he'll be back... And yet. No one is looking. Not even Revolver, who should have it easy since he's working from the inside. Arguably, Kusanagi keeps the foodtruck parked in the same place so he has a home to go back to if he wishes

"He would be sad if he didn't have a place to come back to sometimes": I am convinced that Kusanagi is aware of how fragile the notion of "home" is for Yusaku.

So there's this at least. Arguably #2, I guess we could say they all know he doesn't want to communicate and they respect it. But the way they talk about him, it doesn't feel like its the case.

And this is why I keep saying that they don't deserve him; are they friends, or are they fans? Is any of them even really trying to do something for him, beyond "understanding his feelings" (Aoi, sigh), or rooting for him in the typical "Good old Playmaker, always knows what to do!" way (Takeru, sigh.)

Oh, Yusaku. The way they treat you upsets me so much. It's absolutely not what they're aiming for, but it's like they're encouraging you to develop new traumas instead of really helping you, and it makes me so angry.

So, yeah. I hate these moments, and these dynamics.

Would I fuck, marry or kill him

WHY IS THERE NO "ADOPT" OPTION. Well, the choice is quite easy by elimination. I would NOT kill him (in case you had not gathered already) I would very much NOT fuck him (I really doubt he'd be interested in it either, so that works well for both of us.) Soooo... marry, I guess? That would be hella awkward, but eh, if I can't adopt him, might as well use the option that would vaguely allow to, you know, protect and cherish. Even so, it's hard imagining Yusaku settling like this.

Aaaaand I'm done and off to bed, three hours later than planned. Honestly, kudos if you've read until here. Before I sign off, please receive the cutest gif of Yusaku to thank you for bearing with me for the past 2k+ words of crying over this incredible boy who deserves better.

You know, maybe my OTP is actually Yusaku/hotdog. They do deserve each other.

[loulits]

♡ WIP Ask! ♡

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips

Tagged by: @bloodsherry, @altruistic-meme, @fortunately-pancakes, @chuuyaspinkmotorcycle, @iwantmochisoup

TYSM , guys, but damn, is this naming and shaming all my unfinished, half-finished projects or what? Appologies for the long ass list...

Named Fics

-> A Game We Both Lose (AGWBL) -> The Ties That Bind -> Where Hunger Waits -> Thought For A Thought? -> I'm Bored, Entertain Me (Answered!) -> An Old Scottish Tale

Unnamed Fics

-> SKK Android AU -> SKK Buddy Daddies AU -> SKK Coffee Shop Campus AU -> SKK The Notebook AU -> SKK Dazia Shuffle & ADA!SKK AU -> SKK Mixtape Event -> SKK Kitsunezai -> SKK NSFW -> SKK Prompts -> SKK Fluff/Domestic -> SKK NDE/Gunshot Prompt -> Bottomzai Works -> Requests/Prompt Inbox - Rosie Pompt - Ene Prompt - Zine Portfolio Works -> Hetalia Cardverse AU -> BSD Birthday Collection: Dazai 2025 - Dazai 2025: You Know How To Kill A Mood - Chuuya 2026 - Dazai 2026 onwards: (Various prompts, too many to name here)

Mapping Neurodivergence in BSD: A Headcanon Exploration

Single Analysis -> Ranpo Edogawa: The Most Autistic Man Alive (and Thriving) -> Akutagawa: Autistic, Actually (And Struggling Badly) -> Kunikida's OCD is Canon. -> Is Dazai Osamu Autistic? Let’s Talk About It. -> Dazai is AuDHD and That’s Why He’s a Walking Contradiction -> Chuuya Nakahara: The Ultimate ADHD Poster Child (And a Menace to Society) Duo Analysis -> Ranpo vs. Akutagawa: Two Sides of the ASD Spectrum -> Dazai vs. Akutagawa: Two Sides of Autism in a Broken System -> Dazai’s ASD vs. Kunikida’s OCD: The Ultimate Clash of Chaos and Control -> Dazai (ASD) vs. Chuuya (ADHD): A Neurodivergent Disaster Duo Analysis

HC's, Analyses, Worldbuilding

-> Angel Lore 101 -> Vampire Lore 101 -> Exploring Kinks In BSD (sorry >//< ) -> Domestic SKK HC's -> The (Platonic) Relationship Between Ranpo and Dazai: An Underrated Dynamic - Part 2 / Part 3 -> The Many Uses Of A Ceiling: A Chuuya Headcannon Compilation

Non-FF Lou Works (>//<)'

-> Clockwork Queen and the Dandelion King / Fates Hollow Destiny -> Ivy's League -> Cathy's War -> Mythblight

TAG, YOU'RE IT (but no pressure ♡) : @ediblepandas/ @arrogant-slvt @ohhcinnybuns @whathorselegs @originalaccountname / @originalartblog (wasn't sure which one ♡) @faiirychuuya @monsterswithinme @ardeidae-e @antikr1sta @wandering-tides @sticker-mania @itsandyhere @qdstqq

Dividers by @cafekitsune ♡

[sixeyesonathiel]

HELLO. EXCUSE ME. I’M THROWING UP ON THE FLOOR. WE HIT 5K. BEFORE I EVEN HIT 3 MONTHS. WTFFFF???

i don’t know what kind of cosmic freaky little algorithm glitch let me rise this quick but i am clinging to it with both hands like it’s my life support. do you understand. this is VALIDATION!!! this is the highest form of love language!!! i am sobbing throwing up biting walls punching air and hugging you all through the screen 😭😭😭

y’all showed up for me. for my filthy brainrot. you read my filth. you read my fluff. you guys are so strong for pulling from my goofy gacha system of posts. one day it’s fluff crack about satoru being an annoying menace and the next it’s full-blown filth where he’s blowing your back out 😭😭 you ppl really woke up and roll for a ★★★★★ post not knowing if it’ll be a snack or a scream. and still you all say “yes chef” and drop a sweet comment, reblog it with feral screams in the tags. you filled my inbox with the most insane, lovely, hilarious asks. you’ve sent me rants, thirsts, dreams, brainrots, and above all—so much love.

this blog is the most fun i’ve had in ages. you guys are insane. you’re perfect. you’re the reason i write through migraines and college hell and a sugar addiction that could kill a horse.

i LOVE you. i LOVE US. we are 5k strong and NOT NORMAL and i never want to be normal again 😭💞 thank you. from the bottom of my nasty, satoru-infested heart 🥹

🩷 here’s to 5k. here’s to more mess. here’s to satoru gojo being the hottest man alive & being the most pathetic loverboy in every single universe i write.

MWAHHH 😚

— athy 🩷

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC X Skater reader, except the reader is new and has no idea how to skate and keeps falling all the time,,,

TADC cast x skater!reader !

Wasnt sure if you meant roller skate or skate boarding so I might flip flop between those two I hope that's okay! I also have a similar request for a roller skater reader that I answered a few days ago, which I will link at the end of this post!

Written in mobile!

Side thing idk if it's because I have so many requests rn or what, but I SWEAR my inbox is bugging, I keep seeing requests I didnt notice before... maybe I just accidentally overlooked them? But I SWEAR it wasnt there before because I have looked at my current inbox a dozen times now over the past few days

Idk

CAINE:

Regardless of if ypure a roller skater or a skate boarder, hell or even an ice skater; if you're having trouble keeping your balance, Caine will hover above you and steady you. Hands on your shoulders, or hands under your arms... he may even grab your hands and lift them up while guiding you

I think its very sweet

Manifests a digital cushion for when you fall over

Regardless of if your body is part skate, or you just skate as a hobby, he will cheer you on the same

POMNI:

Honestly you've probably slipped backwards and fell onto her. She probably makes a squeaky toy noise when your weight slams into her... good news about this being the digital world, neither of you are going to be significantly hurt!

If you're wearing skates you guys probably stumble and struggle to get back up... it's a little sad to watch..

RAGATHA:

Insists that you wear a helmet and knee pads. Like sure you cant get permanently hurt, but it makes her feel better !

Helps you try to keep you steady by putting her hands on your sides or shoulders... nervously walks beside you while helping you.. pro awkwardly hovers her hands over you as well as you get more confident with it

JAX:

Either will actually help you or may he a menace... "endurance training" but its actually not endurance training that's just what he says when he throws a bunch of those tiny bouncing rubber balls into your path

"Expect the unexpected " type shit

I mean he would still help you up, I think

Not many thoughts here <\3

KINGER:

Balances you by standing behind you and holding your hands/wrists up... kinda looks like you two are dancing or something. Except you're on a skateboard while he walks you around the floor

Very sweet about it

Kind of gives off the energy of a guardian trying to teach their kid how to ride a bike

Its sweet I think

I would let kinger teach me how to ride a bike

I still dont know how to ride a bike

Hes so so encouraging, too

ZOOBLE:

Thinks that you skate is cool.... oh, you're new to it..? show them what you got!

Oh...

OOOOH...

Ooooh noooo... you just face planted into the floor

I think they would also try to guide you threw it. Probably the only one I can see who skated before, though in their past life in the real world

Maybe jax did but idk

I think they would join you, besides they kind of wish to see if they csn relearn how to do it with their new body

Yay bonding activities

Not many ideas for zooble either.. sobs

GANGLE:

Unique take for gangle, imagine not only do you struggle to keep steady while you're skating, imagine you struggle with stopping. I think you can see how this goes. Imagine you accidentally ram into her while trying to stop.. I mean look at it this way... her ribbons get stuck in your wheels so technically.. you do stop..! Pleade be gentle picking her out... I can only imagine how gnarly that feels

[adhd-coyote]

Hi dear ! Could I ask for Thorn/Problem with 17-an upside down kiss, spider man style ? 🥰

Oooh, this is a fun one! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, hope you enjoy <3

For those who don’t know, Problem is a Corrie vent gremlin that shows up in a few of @darknight-brightstar and I’s fics. He’s an absolute menace and I adore him <3

-

The ceiling chirped.

Or, rather, the vent gremlin holed up in the ceiling chirped. Thorn glanced up from his holopad and smirked at the gleaming ruby eyes staring at him from the vent. “Evening, Problem. Busy day?”

“Eh, you could say that. Introduced myself to the new squad of Shinies.”

Thorn snickered. “And by that you mean you popped out of the ceiling and scared the shit out of them?”

“Maaaaybe,” Problem drawled, teeth flashing in a mischievous grin. “Not my fault if they don’t have good situational awareness. That skill’s a necessity on Coruscant.”

Thorn rolled his eyes, fond. “Right, of course. Feel like coming down?”

Problem hummed thoughtfully, and though Thorn couldn’t see him well, he knew exactly what his Prob’ika was doing- head tilted thoughtfully, a finger tapping his chin, legs kicking in the air. “Nah, don’t wanna. You’re free to come up here, though.”

“Dunno if you’ve noticed, cyar’ika, but I’m a little too big to fit in your vents.”

“Really? That’s a shame.” The vent cover swung open, and while Problem didn’t come out, it was much easier to see him, now. He reached his arms down and made grabby hands, giving his best set of tooka eyes. “Come here? Pretty please, Thorn?”

An adorable little shit, that’s what Problem was. Thorn chuckled, set down his datapad, and obligingly trotted over. He was still out of arms reach, though, which clearly displeased Problem, who was pouting, now. “If you’re so big, why are you still too short for me to reach?”

Thorn raised an eyebrow, amused. “Really? I’m standard height, Prob’ika. Maybe you should try getting longer arms.”

“Hmmm…” Problem’s brow furrowed, a familiar expression. He’d gotten an idea. “Hang on.”

He shimmied inside of the vent and shifted to lay on his back rather than his stomach, then grabbed ahold of the edge and pushed himself out. Thorn startled, jerking forward to catch him, but instead of falling, he caught himself with his legs, leaving him dangling upside-down. “There! That’s better! And now we’re face to face!”

“If you fall and get a concussion, I’m never letting you live it down.”

Problem rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna fall, Thorn, I know what I’m doing. C’mere.” He reached out to cup Thorn’s face and pulled him closer, so they were nose-to nose. “Kisses?”

“You’re hanging upside down from the vent just because you want kisses?”

“Yes.” Problem nodded decisively, beaming. Thorn couldn’t help but sigh, affectionate and amused, and pressed a kiss to Problem’s lips. It was a little strange with him upside down, but not unpleasantly so. Problem certainly didn’t seem to mind, as he held Thorn’s head in place and chased him for another one.

Thorn chuckled and nuzzled as they parted, reaching up to cup the hands on his face. “Happy now?”

“Very,” Problem agreed. “Now help me get down, I want cuddles.”

“So bossy.”

-

To the unanswered prompts in my inbox- I’m getting to you, I promise! Sorry for the wait

Kiss ask game

[merakiui]

MERAAA AHH YOUR WINTER WOES !!! And I thought I was devout to Azul.. 🛐

Okay; Let me start thinking how I can articulate and express my feelings about this fic.

#1 The dialogue. You HAVE to understand, I was kicking my feet up, giggling so much. The way you incorporated Jade's down bad behavior into his thoughts which slightly differs from his dialogue- AH ┻⁠┻⁠︵⁠ヽ⁠(⁠`⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠︵⁠┻⁠┻ I LOVE IT !!!!

#2 Deception. YOU REALLY CAPTURED JADE'S PERSONA HERE. His mildly hidden deception > < ) Oh the chokehold he has on me rn cause of ur fic!!! Bro was lying straight from his gaping serrated maw 🫶 And it was perfect! I was jumping up and down every time I saw the contrast in his thoughts and words, I can not STRESS the fact that I ended up laughing so heartily on that scene where he straight up lied to MC about the possible pregnancy; You're way of story telling and build up is so 👌✨ *chef's kiss*

#3 The interaction. Between Y/N and Jade is so 😩👉👈💗💓💘 Surprisingly, this is one of your most gentlest Jade in the Jade multiverse and it was certainly a treat. I feel like I was just fed a full course meal for free. Definitely an unforgettable experience (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠) I mean, as IF Jade would ever let you forget about what happened. THE BANTER ?!?! The banter. Golden. MC's genuine concern vs Jade's hornybrained desperation (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Yummy !

#4 Jade. Of course. GOSH, I wanna sit here and yap to you all about how startling soft and sappy this made me. Which really shows how amazing your writing issss!!! Who else can spread Jade propaganda like this but you 😔 Azul Nation stay strong ! ୧⁠(⁠ ⁠˵⁠ ⁠°⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠°⁠ ⁠˵⁠ ⁠)⁠୨

Anws I'm scared of absolutely bombing ur inbox so I'll stop it here > < ) Like Jade, I also still have some self control. Take care of urself <333 Ty for the fic !

- I can't choose an emoji; A garden flower.

( ≧ᗜ≦) AAAAAA THANK YOU SO SO MUCH, GARDEN FLOWER!!!!! Please never be scared of bombing my inbox!!! You can yap as much as you want!! I'll always be grateful to read your words!!!!! <3

I'm so happy all of those aspects of the fic were enjoyable!! I wanted to try my hand at writing another version of Jade who is soft and sweet. Writing from his pov is so fun, especially when he's in his mating season and is so very desperate and down bad. >:D as someone who is also very dedicated to Azul Nation, I fear Jade is trying to creep his way into my heart...... more than Azul!!!! >_< truly, we must all remain strong for tako!!!!!!

I really can't thank you enough for your kind words!!! I loved writing this type of Jade, and I think his relationship with the reader is very cute. Reader who is genuinely concerned for him contrasted with Jade's own one-track horny brain. I had fun writing all of his moray behaviors!! The gaping maw and the need to hunt an absurd amount of food for you in order to provide for mate. orz aaaaa his rizz is questionable, but his heart is in the right place (mostly ;;;; he's still lying about a few things, but that won't matter once you're knocked up).

I think a Jade who is vulnerable like this is very wonderful. He plays submissive just to better manipulate you, but it's difficult to tell where the line between act and truth is. <3 what a menace...... orz

[nnnyxie]

coming in to request smth now that your inbox is fixed and open!! i love ur style of writing and ur smaus so i’ve kinda just been waiting for the right time lol. anyway, could i please request some kita and younger sister reader? like how they would work together and how she would help out the team? i love reading hcs/stories abt how a younger sibling would be worked into the plot and whatnot also because i’m a younger sibling 💀 tysm for whatever you do decide to write!! have a good day and make sure to stay healthy :)

wait because i love this idea <3

(there’s swearing bc…. well….. it’s me.)

(aran is mentioned once)

kita would be such a good big brother but also a menace… i just feel it in my bones.

he’s the type of brother to walk into your room, touch random things, and then walk back out without closing the door. (annoying)

he’s very supportive of what you do. he’s always there for you, wether it’s to help you clean up your messes or to help make those messes. (i feel like he’d help you with the most heinous shit just so you don’t get caught) he will back you up during any arguments or fights— even if you were in the wrong. he’s thrown down for you (but don’t tell anyone that, he can’t ruin his perfect reputation)

kita’s the kind of brother to catch you doing some whack ass shit but say “you’re doing it wrong, let me help” (you can’t tell me that he doesn’t know how to do some shady shit…. i know he does…)

while he’s a very logical person, that all flies out the window when it comes to you. i feel like he’s the kind of brother who reacts wildly when someone does something to you that he doesn’t like.

ex; one time you purposefully talked (loud asf) during atsumu’s practice serve cause like— why not?? he’s a loser anyways (affectionate) and when atsumu went to yell at you, kita grabbed his ear and yanked him to the floor.

he’s a very protective brother. will scare anyone that tries to ask you out away. one time ginjima and suna tried asking you to go out (as friends) and kita had the coach make them run 10 extra laps around the school.

he doesn’t like the idea of you going out on dates with anyone because that means you’re growing up and he wants you to be his little baby (i call my little sisters my little babies) forever. he wants to shrink you down and carry you in his pocket.

plus if you were to be in a relationship, he’d only want it to be with someone he knows has a good reputation and is a genuine person (someone like aran, i’d love to have that man in my hands)

he basically raised you, it started when he got into his double digits. despite being a year apart, he raised you like a real man would. yes, your grandmother was there but there was only so much she could do, yk??

he also had you join the volleyball team as manager just to keep an eye on you and to take you to and from school. again, he’s very protective.

i feel like the two of you just have a strong bond because of bad experiences you’ve faced together. you two just have that sibling connection.

all in all, he’s a great brother. the kind that’s a bit annoyingly perfect but also absolutely idiotic (if that makes sense).

kita !!!

[smilebackwards]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

I'm sorry I forgot this in my inbox for like 4 months!! I kept meaning to do it and then forgetting :( Anyway, in no particular order:

Mission Report [Star Wars, Qui-Gon & Obi-Wan] My Phantom Menace feels, still strong after like 20 years.

Orientation [Batman/DCU, Tim Drake] Tim trying to be self-reliant and also almost plunging to his death. Good times.

Wedding Cup [Lord of the Rings, Legolas/Gimli] Cultural differences and parental reaction to the relationship. I've written like 3 variations of this one.

count the ways [Shadowhunters, Malec] Miscommunication about courting rituals. An extremely 'me' fic.

Undercover Work [Star Wars: Rebels, Kalluzeb] Spy fic! I love writing spies and secret agents and this was very fun for me.

Not tagging anyone specific, but anyone who wants to do it I'd love to see!