#but I worked really hard on this and I hope it is a worthwhile read

[hoshigray]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐌𝐄 [& 𝑭𝑼𝑪𝑲 𝑴𝑬] 𝐔𝐏!! | tōji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: It's bad enough you got a crush on your gym instructor, Toji; however, it gets worse when things become too close and personal for this relationship...But who says you shouldn't get a little praise for your hard work?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: personal trainer! Toji x fem! reader - explicit contents; minors DNI - unrequited/crushing » mutual pining - sex in a public space (gym locker room + showers) - shower sex - thigh riding - oral (m! + f! receiving) - ball massaging - face + throat-fucking - breast fondling + nipple play - against a wall + upstanding citizen + standing 69 positions - praise - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - cervix fucking - pet names (angel, baby, doll, dollface, good girl, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside tho) - overstimulation - cameos: Haibara and Ino (gym manager and employee) - the reader accidentally walks into the men's locker room (they're a bit dumb, forgive them, lol) - mention of sweat spit and tears.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k (i'm about to lose my mind, bro.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: mannnnnn, the way this draft has been collecting dust, it was supposed to be released on Dec!! ofc my first fic back would be for toji lmao. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and tysm for 4.7k y'all are so sweet ;;w;; and thank yeww @ramonathinks for beta-reading, mwah mwah

“That one was weak; do another three.”

“Gahh– …You’re such an asshole, Fushiguro.”

“Heh, like that’s anythin’ new. C’mon, let’s go!”

We’re counting down to the last weeks of the year, and so many people have already promised affirmations for themselves in the upcoming year. In terms of this year, you can’t say much. You’ve done your work, hung out with the same people since last year, and probably learned to spoil yourself more. Maybe another thing you can be proud of is that you crossed some TV series off your “get-to-watch” list, so go you!

Although, besides those minimal things, there is one change in your life that you’ve committed yourself to. One thing that you didn’t expect to be so in tune with throughout the past half of the year. It started as a forced challenge because your friend Miwa needed someone to motivate her to maintain her gym membership. What was once something you’d thought a one-time thing gradually became something you enjoy — something you felt proud doing!

Not only has your knowledge of your body and how to keep it in good shape improved over half a year, but your love for the community has grown more and more. The gym you go to feels like a second home, with many people you’ve gotten to know and befriend along your journey. Even the manager, Haibara Yu, practically treats you like a sibling after seeing you every other day. The same goes for the front desk associate, Ino, who is the goofiest goofball you’ve ever met (not to mention the best drinking buddy). 

But – if you really had to pick – there is one person who has made this experience more enjoyable and worthwhile. “Hahhh!! There, I did them! Aren’t you supposed to be my spotter, not a shit-talker?”

“I’m doin’ my job, aren’t I?” Toji Fushiguro, your gym instructor for the past few months, has been a driving force in your physical journey. With his help, you’ve been disciplining yourself in and outside of the facility, maintaining a good diet, and keeping your body active in a balanced fashion. The gratitude you have for him supersedes all. But above all else, throughout the years, the two of you have gotten pretty close and know a good chunk about each other to call yourselves friends – at least, that’s what you’ve been doing. “Alright, that’s enough lifting for today; time for stretches.”

Aside from a friend, there is something else you refer to him as – something you’d rather die than admit out loud. Toji, your trainer, is your gym crush. Well, your crush in general. 

Can you really blame yourself, though? Look at the man! When you first look at him, his physique alone is enough to keep you staring at him for hours and hours on end. Strong, bulky arms that look like they could pick up five treadmills in one sitting and with veins that decorate up to his forearm can effortlessly grab the attention of the normal eye. He’s wearing his black fitted tee, so tight that it was as if it was vacuum sealed to perfectly showcase the outline of his abdomen, ribs, and pectorals. And it doesn’t help from the back view either; you can’t count how many times you fell into a short trance from admiring his gorgeous back, from his trapezius to his waist. Every time the man flexes his biceps and triceps, all you can do is internally thank the gods for sculpting such a man to be in front of you. And those beautiful thighs and calves shaped from his black leggings and shorts? Damn.

But the thing about him that has you squeak more than a mouse are his eyes. Forest green orbs that can shift into a stern concentration whenever he’s working on a machine or when he’s observing your form and finds whatever needs correcting. Then there are times when they are mellow and soft when you’re speaking with him or when he’s deep in thought about something until you catch his attention. Then he’d throw a small smile at you — your biggest weakness. The scar on his lip being lifted to a curl never fails to put your stomach into knots.

He’s such an attractive man from the first moment you ever laid your eyes on him. You were bound to fall in love with him one way or another. It just sucks that it’s under such a professional relationship that you have to keep this little unrequited love to yourself.

Which is getting harder and harder every day, especially now when the guy is so close to your face when he’s helping you stretch. Oh, dear lord. 

Every time you are done lifting weights, Toji will have you do stretches. He has you do them before and after a workout as they give your muscles time to warm up and straighten from the stress you put on them. So now, as you’re laying on your mat, Toji puts one hand on your right leg to keep it grounded on the floor and his other hand on the back of your left to push it up to your chest. The position has the two of you so close, him being situated between your legs and observing your breathing; it’s so wrong of you to dwell your mind into other things – other raunchier things.

And when he brings both your legs up to your chest, how the fuck are you supposed to calm your heart from exploding!?? You have to close your eyes during all this to not be pulled in by the examination of his gaze under his raven bangs. This is, without a doubt, the best worst part of the workouts. Thankfully, this is the last workout of the week, and the gym is about to close within an hour and a half. 

Toji breaks the suffering silence between you two. “Y’re still stiff; take deeper breaths f’r me.”

Oh, if only he knew how your dirty mind took that sentence. You chew on your lip with a gulp, “Maybe I still have a little energy in me that still wants to exercise.”

That made him chortle. “Is that so? Well, maybe after your stretches, you can get on the stairmaster for a few minutes.”

You gawk at him, only furthering the smirk on his face. “Are you serious!?? You promised we wouldn’t do any cardio until next week.”

“Well, next week is around the corner,” Toji moves your knees a bit to the left, bending them further down to your chest so his face could be a little closer to yours. Your brain almost short circuits at the movement, trying to distract yourself from the fact that his groin is mere inches away from your shorts. “So, since ya got the spirit, be a doll and do a few minutes on the machine, okay? Five minutes.”

Your breathing is so slow that you’re too scared to move. Your lips pressed to a thin line to conceal the quiver, and your eyes don’t dare venture down. You already know your body is going through its own internal turmoil, a throbbing sense occurring in your lower regions the more you keep looking at Toji, who lifts a brow from awaiting your response. Oh, this man is going to kill me.

“…Five minutes.” 

“Atta girl.” With a scoff, he finally straightens himself and places your legs on the mat. Toji then stands on his feet and grabs his bag. “Gonna head for the showers; finish up those stretches and head for the stepmaster. See ya later, Y/n.” And you watch him leave for the men’s locker room, finally having room to breathe. Before you can conclude your stretches with a cobra and child’s pose, you grumble to yourself in a whisper.

Why the hell did I have to fall in love with such a snarky, gruff, older guy like him…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You enter the locker room after completing the instructed exercise. Your mind is dizzy from walking on the step machine for about fifteen minutes, and your legs are mere minutes from turning into jelly. You curse Toji internally for the insufferable torture you’ve stressed on your poor limbs. 

No matter, though; you’re finally done for the evening and can head home to your soft bed. The gym will close soon, so perhaps you could use the locker room showers to freshen up. But then again, after the strain you’ve put on your body for almost two hours, all you want to do is be home and listen to your favorite music. I don’t feel like cooking today…  

Further into the room, you can hear the sound of someone using the showers, indicating you had picked the right idea to head home. You head for the locker side to grab your items to put in your bag before leaving, and it’s then that you hear the water stop running from where the showers are. Oh, shit,  make this quick, Y/n!

In front of you is the locker with the number you’re familiar with — where you always leave your things, like your own spot. You open it only to find….nothing is in the locker? Huh? Where are my leggings? And my phone??

Come to think of it, where’s your duffel bag that you usually leave on the bench against the lockers? You’ve never had a problem with people stealing from you in this place, so how does a bag full of your stuff magically disappear? There is a bag in here, but it’s definitely not yours. And now that you get a good look, you start to notice that the color of the lockers is of a different, darker shade than what you’re usually accustomed to. Wait a minute, am I in the wrong—

“Y/n?”

You go still at the familiar voice. Oh no, please, God, no. There’s no way. Your eyes teeter to the corner as you ever-so-slowly turn to the direction where that voice was coming from. And, of course, it was your personal trainer, who is—OH MY GOD!!!

Toji stands afar on the opposite side of you from the showers, without clothing, his body and hair completely drenched from water. The only thing that covers him is a white towel wrapped around his lower body. His body, which you’re used to seeing being snug tight by his gym clothes, is out for you to see as water trickled down from his clavicle, pecs, ribcage, and abs. For a split second, you take in as much of the image as you can, storing this as it’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity in your mind (maybe to fuel more of your erotic fantasies when you go home). But you avert your gaze when your eyes travel down his abs, counting each one until you reach below his belly button, where strays of dark hair become more prominent with a trail down his pelvis and—Okay, stop looking, stop looking!!

“M–Mr. Fushiguro!?” You croak, eyes wide with realization at what you’ve just done. Your dumbass just walked into the men’s locker room without checking first. And to add salt to the wound, your crush is the first person to catch you in the act, “O-Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to walk in here! I’ll get going—“

“No, no, Y/n, calm down,” Toji walks to where you’re standing; a mini-heart attack was about to be deployed until the older man turned to the side to grab for something in his bag. He pulls out a smaller towel. “Ya walked in here on accident, right?”

You gulp, seeing the steam from the shower still leave from Toji’s nude body. “Uhm, yeahhh, I don’t know where my head was at. Sorry…”

The gym instructor scoffs at your apology. “It happens; must’ve been a bit light-headed from the exercise and forgot where y’re at. Heh, guess those five minutes did more damage than I thought.”

“Ahaha, yeah, it was…pretty….dreadful……” Were you distracted? Yup. Because Toji used the towel he pulled from his bag to wipe off the water from his arms and face. You couldn’t help but survey the man’s movements, watching the small white towel brush on his triceps and glide down to his torso. You continue watching the small towel until your eyes drift to the happy trail on his pelvis. Your breathing goes uneven, thinking of more indecent things that connect with the trail of hair and the limb that’s shielded by the towel around Toji’s waist.

“…–ou there…Y/n?” Your name said to you snaps you back, realizing where you are and what you were doing. Your eyes crawl back to Toji’s face, who throws a small smile at you. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” Sweetie?!? If the floor could give way and swallow you, that would be appreciated. “Is there anythin’ else you need to tell me while y’re here?”

No, I’m in the men’s locker room, so I need to hurry and get the fuck out! “Uhmm, n-nope, nothing at all! So…I better get going now. See you later, Mr. Fushiguro!” You turn on the heel of your foot to head for the door, only able to take about five giant steps before Toji stops you again.

“How was it today?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now!? You look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“The workout. How was it?”

“It…It was, umm, alright, I guess. I feel like I could’ve done better on the weights.” 

“And why is that?”

Your body turns to have your front fully face him again. “Well, I mean, I was struggling at the last few reps…I’m sure you noticed, too, since you scolded me about it.”

He hums. “Ya know I correct you because, I know, you can do better, right, Y/n?” It was rhetoric, but you humor him with a slow nod. He brings the small towel to his head and dries his damp hair. “I’ve had many clients who come at me with everything they got or burned out before the first two months. But don’t worry, Y/n, I can tell you take pride in what we’re doing, and it’s good to know…” 

His words drown out from your ears. You didn’t mean for it to – you really didn’t. But while Toji was fixing his hair, you snuck more peeks at his body, enjoying his side profile. Admiring the way his arms move and flex, following the rocky silhouette of his abs that lead down to the towel again, you gasp at the dent of something that appears to be between Toji’s legs. Good lord, even with the cotton material covering him, you can still see it and—

“….Y/n.” Oh no, I did it again. You gulp with eyes venturing back to Toji’s face; the grin grew broader than before. “That's twice, sweet thing.” 

“S–Sorry, Mr. Fushiguro. It’s just that you have a...uhhh…” The heat in your ears makes it hard to concentrate on looking at the ground, anything to avoid your instructor’s gaze. “…..areallynicebody—“

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that, sweetie,” Sweetie? Sweetie!? Why'd he call me that? What you should be questioning is why that nickname made your stomach flip. But who are you kidding — if anyone had a crush on their instructor and were called a cute name like that, of course, they’d be as hot as a volcano. “Didn’t catch that, say it fr’ me again.”

“I–I said that,” Oh for fuck’s sake, this is so embarrassing! “You have a nice body…An attractive body, really…” The heat on your cheeks and ears is reaching heights that would have you combust at any moment. It’s what you’d hope for, honestly. It’s bad enough you’re stuck in the men’s locker room for not paying attention; now you’re here admitting to your instructor that you got the hots for him. God, please strike me here and now!

Toji says nothing after you say that, and it has your nerves at an all-time high, wondering if you should wait for his reply or just dash for the door and hope no one sees you leaving the men’s locker room. However, his voice breaks the silence, “I can say the same fr’ you.”

Oh, stop it. “Oh, please, no need to butter me up, Mr. Fushigu—“

“I’m serious.” He shuts down your argument down your argument before you can even finish. “C’mere.”

Why did you do what you were about to do? You could’ve just declined, exited the facility, and headed straight home to wallow away about this entire interaction, maybe find a different gym to form a membership with. But you didn’t. Instead, with downcast eyes, you slowly approached your instructor, who stood behind the locker bench. “Closer,” he says, noting how you’re about two arms length away from him, which you meekly decrease to one. “You don’t think ya got a nice body?” 

The adjacency between you two was too much for you, your face minutes from imploding. Too shy for words, you settle for a nod to give.

“How come?”

For God’s sake, this is not a conversation you want to have now with your crush instructor in the middle of the men’s locker room. “I…Well, Mr. Fushiguro—“

“Toji,” he cuts you off, discarding the small towel to the top of his bag. “Y’re over here tellin’ me I look good when you’re the one lookin’ like you could strike any guy that walks up in this place. Doncha think so?” 

Again, your eyes avoided his toweled figure, focusing on the tiled floor beneath your sneakers. “I guess, but…Toji, when compared to you, I—“

“Then that’s what ya shouldn’t be doin’, who told you to compare y'rself to others?” Toji brings a hand to your chin to make your avoidant peer placed on him, a move you were not mentally strapped in for. “I’m me, and y’re you, right?” 

“Right…”

“And that’s a good thing,” the hand on your chin slides down to the inside of your hoodie, his forefinger sneaking under the band of your sports bra. It makes your breathing stop. “But ya know what else I think?”

“What?” You sounded so low – so tiny – you didn’t know if he could hear you. He then brings his face close to your ear, and you could’ve sworn you almost felt your heart jump out of your throat. His free hand comes around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. The cotton of the towel now brushed your leg, and you could sink into a pool of embarrassment at the gasp you let out.

His voice was hoarse and low, the air from his nostrils grazing the skin of your ear. “…I think y’r body is the sexiest thing I’ve seen.” 

The sentence hit you like a truck, your heart almost giving in to a complete shutdown. “Huh–Ohhhh, wait,” Toji takes a nibble of your ear while his hand slithers your hoodie off of you, freeing your arms and covered chest where he creeps his hand inside next. You whimper at his fingers on your nipples that harden at his grinding touch. “Toji, wait, please wait…Do you really mean—“

“Mhmm, I do,” He coos, and a kiss to your neck nearly has you give way and lose balance; lucky for you, Toji was smart enough to have a leg between yours. “Now that I have you here, I’ll prove it.” 

“We’re—Ahhnnn…But we’re in the men’s locker room,” Toji brings his face up to look at you, your half-lidded eyes locked with his emerald orbs. “Someone could see us…”

Your worries are taken with a caress to your cheek. “Don’t worry about other people when y’re with me. I gotcha, baby.” 

“And I’m…Ohooo, really sweaty…”

“Nothin’ a shower can’t fix.”

And before you refute him again, Toji places his scarred lips onto yours, a shocked moan muffled as he kisses and sucks on your bottom lip. The hand in your bra now positions to the back of your neck, positioning you for him to deepen the kiss once you allow him access to your mouth. And once you kiss him back, all the reins of restraint have been discarded along with your hoodie to the floor.

The sounds of lips smacking get louder by the second, the passion in the kiss unraveling when you bring your hands to cup his cheek and have his face practically glued to yours. And Toji complies, shoving his tongue to tease and play with yours. The hand that was on your waist comes down to your ass for him to grope with the flesh, urging more of your sobs to be taken from him. Is it possible for your brain to turn into mush from a kiss? You’re finding that out now, breaking the kiss to gather whatever air you can before Toji claims your lips again.

The leg you’re riding on is nestled between your thighs, rubbing against the groin of your shorts. With every kiss and hump comes a grind on his leg, and it alleviates the growing ache that’s flourishing in your panties. Shivers travel up your spine and heighten your horniness, this elated feeling so dangerous that you could turn into putty at any second.

Toji lets go of your lips with a heavy pant, breathlessly snickering at his work; turning his cute client into a mess flipped a switch he’s been dying to indulge with. “Mmmm, y’re too fuckin’ cute, baby,” he wipes your mouth before letting you go; you hold back a whine when he removes his warm figure from you and steps back. It’s then that your instructor finally removes the towel that’s been shielding a now-discernible tent. The white towel meets the floor, and you follow his happy trail to meet with his erection, a sight that makes your jaw drop. The older man takes a seat on the bench behind him, and his legs spread out for his dick and balls to be ever-so-present and seen.

“Ya see how crazy you and y’r body make me?” He bites his lip, getting more turned on with you marveling at him and his length. “C’mere, angel, lemme see what you can do.” It takes a good mental slap to snap out of your frozen state and look at the thing you’ve been imagining all these months. Now, when the chance has finally been brought to you, how could you pass this up?  Following Toji’s command, you come close and go to your knees between his legs. 

The sheer size and girth of his length nearly put you in a trance, your eyes taking every detail of his erection before your eyes. Every dent and curve, the prominent veins from the underside, and the oddly pretty pink tip where bits of precum dare protrude from the urethra. Your raised hand has hesitance, yet Toji is quick to assuage your unease, taking your hand with his and wrapping it on his cock. The rough skin on your palm hitches your breath, “Hmmm, oh fuck. Yeah, just like that, princess.”

And there he goes again, egging you on with more cute pet names. Your hand slides up and down along his shaft from the tip to the base, and the sensation of its veins is so raunchy for your overwhelmed fingertips. Toji’s gruff hums to your touches stick to your ears the most, a sound you never in your wildest dreams thought you’d be lucky enough to hear. You want to keep hearing them, want them to be stored in your memory for as long as you can. And when you meekly tease his glans with a tiny lick, the hiss he expresses turns you on even more, so much so that you take the tip with patience and start to suck.

Toji throws his head back to the lockers behind him; the feeling of your tongue rolling around his girth as you inhale his cock is crazy. Fuck, it felt so good – he has to fight the urge to rut into your hollow cheeks and puffy lips. “Hahhh…Mmmm, damn….Ahahaha, ya know how to use that mouth of y’rs, Y/n. Keep suckin’ me off like that, and I’ll—Ohhh! Shit, shit, shiiiit,” he wasn’t prepared for you to take in his entire erection to the hilt. The tightness of your throat around him sends shivers, having to use the bench to grip onto.

You bob your head along his length, a hand accompanying the motions to further the exhilaration. Spit and come wet your palm, yet you’re too focused on the task to care, the haze of your brain increasing every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. The jerk of his hips entails that you’re doing a good job, Toji bringing a hand to the back of your head when you kiss and lick on the head of his cock. You take note, assuming that it’s his weak spot, and continue to suck and tease the tip some more, massaging his testicles which almost had him choke. 

“—Hnnmph! Fuckin’ shit, I can’t…” Toji then has enough of this ribbing pleasure, unable to hold it anymore. With a careful hold on your skull, he stands from the bench and plows your face with his member. The harsh hit of his hips propelling his dick down to the deep crevices of your throat was sudden; the assault on your uvula results in your gag reflex; however, Toji was here to calm you down, “It’s alright, angel, breathe fr’ me.” He caters to you with a mediocre rhythm to the hips, the movement relieving the abrupt stress to your throat as you hum on his cock. You find purchase on his thighs to stabilize yourself while he plays with you orally, dialing up the pumps to your mouth until it reaches an erratic mood. Fuck, it has your head ringing, but the growing twinges and throbs between your legs practically excite you for more. Goddamn, it feels so good. So fucking good. “Jesus Christ—Y/n, I’m ‘bout to cum. Keep swirlin’ that tongue…Nnmmm, fuuck, right there, right there—Ahhhck!!”

His release comes with a few rough hits to your lips, his balls hitting your chin until they’re pressed against it. He pups his load into you, and you take it like a champ, letting the fluid venture down as the girth pulsates around your walls. His choked breathing eventually simmers down, giving it a few long seconds before he steadily removes himself from your warm cavity. The last remnants of his white substance paint your tongue, your saliva coating him. And with a voluntary swallow, you open your mouth again to showcase your clean change.

“Heh, didn’t even have to tell you,” Toji chortles, bringing a thumb to wipe your chin. “Good girl.”

KA-CHA! CREEEEK!!

Wide green eyes shoot wide along with yours, and the both of you go frozen rigid. That was most definitely the sound of a door opening. The door to the men’s locker room, where you are on your knees, in front of your personal instructor, with his dick out for the whole world to see. The blood in your body runs cold, and your stomach drops to the chilly floor. Oh, it’s over. It’s done. Your life is officially coming to an end. Welp, it’s time for me to think of a good suicide note when I get home and—

Pause on that. Because one moment you were thinking of your demise from this discomfiting situation, next you’re being dragged by Toji to the other part of the locker room, the showers. He swiftly opens a curtain and throws you both inside with a close, and the wet tiles soaked to your socks have you cringe, so you take them off.  

“Hello?” It’s a guy’s voice, of course — Ino’s. The young man is probably inspecting the male locker rooms before they close for the night like usual. You don’t dare speak so much as a letter when the footsteps draw closer to the showers, your heart rate spiking to a nervous high, and your breathing shallow. This is worse; now you’re in a confined space, face-to-face with Toji, who is utterly nude, towel left back on the bench. Your eyes locked with his, and your ears to the sounds of shoes entering the plane. “Anyone here? Saw some stuff at the front.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” your expression turns to sheer terror, wide orbs looking at the raven-haired man who spoke. No! Why would you say something!? 

“Hmm? Toji, that you?” Ino’s voice comes closer, in front of the shower curtain that shields you from his field of vision. Your heart is on the verge of dropping to your intestines. “You’re still here? Figured you’d be home by now.”

“Nah, I’m still here. Just about to finish up and head out.” Toji then turns on the faucet, cold peeps of water hitting your sweaty skin, panties, and sports bra. And, of course, it catches you off guard. OH FUUUUUU—  You don’t scream. You can’t. Instead, you shield your mouth and turn your back to Toji after giving him the most outstanding death glare of your life, which the older finds amusement in. You wipe your face from the water, cursing internally at this entire predicament. 

“Oh, okay, cool. I was just worried someone left their stuff on that bench over there. Carry on, and have a good night!” Ino dismisses himself and leaves the showers, and you exhale a silent sigh of relief. Oh, thank goodness…

Toji, on the other hand, sees your relieved state, and he can’t help but grin to himself with what he’s about to do. Moving closer to you, he brings his wet hands to your sports bra and immediately goes to fondling your breasts. A moan sneaks past you at the contact, prompting him to grope you even more. “T–Toji,” the water gradually gets warmer, juxtaposing with his cold fingers. “Stop, we have to leave, this is—Ohooo…” He tweaks your nipples with his forefinger and thumbs, and a leg sneaks in between yours.

“Relax, dollface, it’s just you and me here,” Oh, sweet Lord, you almost fell to your knees when he whispered to your ear and a teasing lick to your helix. “Got ya all to myself, now…” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, his wet hair brushing your cheek while he snakes his hand down into your panties. The way his fingers graze your clit again has you arch your back to him, another hushed shriek when he bullies his way between your folds. 

“Hey, Toji?” Ino’s voice again. Back to anxious stakes now that Toji’s toying with you. Goddamn it, Ino! What are you still doing here!? “I noticed you left your towel on the bench over there. But I also saw Y/n’s hoodie there.” Oh, fuck me!! Shit, shit, shit—"Ohhmph!!"

With quickness, you covered your mouth before your moan caught the ears of the front desk employee. And the reason for that is that Toji pulled down your soaked underwear and gave your chasm a sudden lick. If Ino weren’t back here, you’d give your personal trainer the nastiest kick to the throat you could ever do. But when he inserts a finger inside you, your aggression withered away in seconds. 

“Huh? Ohh, yeah, ‘bout that,” Toji stands back up and continues to finger you, chuckling at the sight of your trembling figure using the wall as leverage. “I saw ‘em before headin’ to the locker room. We talked for a while, but then they said they needed to change and told me to hold their hoodie for ‘em.” He says it so casually, all the while scraping your inner walls with the tip of his forefinger, summoning hushed cries that turn to silent screams when his free hand comes down to playfully pinch and press on your clitoris. God, this is too much torture for one night. 

Ino keeps questioning. “Really? I had someone check the other locker rooms, and she said she didn’t see anyone or anything except for a few personal items and leggings in one of the lockers. I’m guessing those would be Y/n’s, but where could they be?” Little did he know that you were just a curtain pull away from being found, chewing hard on your lip to quash your screams from the erratic swiping on your clit and the curving hits of his digits in your wetness.

“Mmmm, they probably are at another part of the gym or waitin’ for me at the front.” He lies effortlessly, yet his attention is still on you as he removes his fingers from you, the pleasure subsiding from the removal. Instead, he brings his erection in between your folds and humps you, and the feeling of his dick on your lips worsens the throbs in your awaiting cunt. With the heat coming from the shower and your uneven breaths, you’re bound to faint at any moment. 

“Ahh, makes sense. Alright, I’ll try and find them then,” you don’t say anything, just hesitant breaths when you feel the tip of Toji’s cock align and lightly push to your slick-coated entrance. Holy fuck, this is actually happening! Your lips quiver when Toji comes down to your ear to tell you to relax your body from tension, quietly maneuvering you by pulling your lower half to him. You do big inhales and exhales while the man pushes his cockhead to enter your cunt, wincing at the few seconds of pain that accompany each push. “See you later, Toji, and I put your towel on the hood next to your shower for when you’re done. Good night!”

“See ya.” And with Toji’s dismissal, Ino’s footsteps draw farther and farther from where you two are. And the moment you hear the locker room door slam close, Toji pushes the entire cockhead inside of you. Finally, you can squeal out to your heart’s content, balling your fists on the shower wall while your personal trainer wedges his length inside of you and stretches your walls. The girth was definitely something you knew would be an obstacle to accommodate, and it’s worse when your slit keeps clamping around the foreign limb invading inside. Tears begin to swell from the stinging touch, not that they would be distinguished by the shower water hitting behind you and Toji.

“Haahh, ahahhnn, mmmm,” Your wails seep out from your system right as the base of his cock kisses your lower region lips. And after a few seconds, he starts with a slow pace. Knowing that you can feel every dent and vein within you is insane to comprehend; the heat across your cheeks cranks up due to the euphoric sensations. “Ohhhh, my God, Tojiii. I’m so full…”

Toji pecks on your shoulder, “Yeah, sweet thing? I bet so. Just be a good girl and keep grippin’ on me like that, alright? Gonna start movin’ now…” His hips rut into your vagina, pulling his shaft slowly outward and rushing it back inward. Holy shit, it felt so dreamlike — having him actually move inside of you. But it was very much real; having his pelvis meeting the flesh of your ass was proof of such.

A hand snakes down to your clitoris, and a gasp leaves your lips at the brush of his thumb rubbing against it. Your legs tremble at the flick of his finger on your bud, and the pace of his thrusts crank up in speed, making it hard to concentrate on one thing. So many senses are being activated all at once; the shower water raining down on your back, the exhilarating combination of Toji’s dick grinding down on your insides, and the swipes and pinches on your precious clitoris. God, it was all too much. 

“Arch some more fr’ me, princess,” Toji gets up to push your back further down, the walls of your chasm clinging onto him as the more exposed opening gives room for you to be plowed. “Hnnmm, shit, feels so good…Hey, let’s try somethin’ different.”

By the time the last bit of his sentence could be registered, he already had you turned to face him, folding your arms around his neck. You didn’t know what for until he hoisted you up, and then you instinctively grabbed hold for dear life before your back hit the wall, your legs wrapped around him while he held you by the thighs. Toji brings his member back to your labia to insert it back inside, and you two moan at the contact again. Oh, this was different – never have you been lifted like this. And to be elevated by your gym crush, in this connotation, is enough to have you appalled.

But what made your breath hitch the most was Toji’s face being up close and personal. The bangs stuck to his forehead thanks to the shower water; his jet-black hair was wet and slicked. Trails flow down his face, drops of water plummeting from his nose and chin. And – oh, sweet Jesus – those green eyes of his, so striking as if they could pierce right through you. They were piercing through you. He took in your expression just as you were his, eyes filled with wanton desire, and it was all directed towards you – for you. He flashes a small smile, teeth peeking from beneath his scarred lips.

Oh, my God. You turn to the side to hide your face from his gaze; it definitely wasn’t the water that was making your cheeks and ears hot at that moment. But that didn’t fly with Toji. He sneaks into a rut that has you jump on his cock, the new position giving his dick an angle to hit your cervix. Because of that, the jab erupts a shriek you had no preparation for withholding. 

“Heh, aht, aht, don’t do that,” Oh, he knows he’s in control of this entire situation; you can hear it in his patronizing chortle. “Don’t hide that pretty face from me, doll,” he kisses your cheek and trails down to the crook of your neck. “Let me hear you—Aiishhh! Oh, fuuck…” 

Once Toji begins to jerk his hips to you, you dwell into a pleasure that you never knew existed. Toji’s length scrapes your inner walls like crazy, like a euphoric itch. The fact that you’re bouncing on the cock of your personal trainer is scary to comprehend. Having him see you like this, hearing you moan and wail for him, you never felt more exposed in your entire life. And also, him holding you like you weigh nothing and fucking you in the men’s locker room showers?! What the actual fuck!? This is actually so embarrassing – I could die! 

But why would you? The commotion between your legs feels way too good to bring this to a stop – you two are already joined in a union, so why stop? Every stroke to your slit sends a shiver up your spine, clamping onto him every time he brushes up on your sweet spots that make your nerves tingle. And the occasional jabs to your tender cervix? Damn, the stimulation was enough to have you faint with the heat growing tenfold.

“Mmmff, hoohhh, ohhhhh,” your cries are drowned out by the shower, only heard by Toji. Speaking of, this position gives you proximity to observe his expression. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes shut as if he’s in the zone. The huffs of breath he takes with every roll of his pelvis are so hot to the ear that you wouldn’t mind listening to them all day. Anytime the walls of your wetness clamp onto him, he moans and hushed curses at the feeling of you wanting him. He’s an attractive man, but, holy fuck, this was a sight you thought you’d never see in a million years. 

“—Khhhh! Hnmph, ahhhh,” Through the gruff pants, Toji opens his eyes half-lidded, catching you in the moment of staring right at him. You clench onto him; why does this man have to look so fucking sexy!? He smirks, “How we feelin’ now, baby?”

“Hahhh, I–I’m—Ohhh!! Fucking shiiiitt,” you cry out when he slams deep into you, making your toes curl, and your words come out in slurs. “It’s too muuchh, Tojiii, ughhh!! T–Tooo muuuuch…” 

“Ya gettin’ close?” Oh, yes, you were. You could feel it through the trembles climbing up your fibers. Your brows trench at the high, and Toji was mean enough to sneak a pinch to the clitoris without you noticing. Your legs tighten around his waist, and you shake your head hurriedly. He chuckles, releasing your clit from his rough fingers and putting his forehead to yours. “C’mon, angel, I won’t know what you want if ya don’t say it.”

Fuck, he’s such a meanie. You love it so fucking much. You mewl to him, “Pleaseee, Tojiii, I want it so bad!”

He lifts a brow. “Want what?” 

“—To cum!! Pleasepleaseee, I wanna cum on you, I want it—Ahaahhnn!!” Fuck, it’s coming. Almost there. 

That’s all he needed to hear, the grin on his face broadening at your response. “Cum on me, then. I’m right here to catch ya, princess.” His hand returns to your clitoris, pressing down on the delicate button to the point where all he can hear is your sweet screams of lust. His thrusts now get erratically fast, having you rebound to the hilt of his length, the smacks of skin slapping against each other fill the confined space of the shower. And the climb of your aroused high increases until it comes crashing down; you let out one last howl as the electric shocks course through your body, and your release is freed. Your walls squeeze hard onto Toji as you indulge in your climax; him pistoning his cock to your sensitive labia adds to the chilling sensitivity. Your cunt flutters around his cock while you experience your crescendo, your eyes screwed shut to enhance the experience, not aware of Toji watching you ride out your orgasm on him. 

The trembles calm down, the shocks subside, and your breathing descends into a steady rhythm. Throwing your head back, you rest your back against the wall while still in Toji’s hold, using this time to indulge yourself in this moment of clarity. 

Toji lets out a tiny laugh, bringing his face to your neck to suck on it. “That felt good, sweet thing?” You sigh out of breath, nodding to his question. “Hmmm, good. But ya know I’m not done, right?” Your blood ran cold, your body rigid still. Wait, huh? “I let you have your fun, so be a good girl, and lemme have mine.” 

The involuntary twitch of your slit should give you a clue as to how the news hit you, and you can't tell if it'll be him or the shower that will have you melting like a puddle by the time this is over...

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Haibara walks out to the front desk, where Ino hurriedly stuffs his phone back into his pocket, away from his superior’s eyes. Fortunately for the younger man, the older one didn’t see his device. “Hey, Ino, I got a question.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” The associate fidgets with his brown hair under his rolled-up ski mask.

“Have you seen Mr. Fushiguro and Y/n today? Toji told me he couldn’t make it for Monday night, but I haven’t seen Y/n that day or Wednesday.” The older brunette looks around to find any resembling cues, but his eyes see nothing that sparks familiarity. 

Ino blinks before answering. “No. And now that you mention it, I haven’t seen or heard from them since last week…”

Haibara leans on the desk and sighs. “Hope Y/n’s doing all right. Usually, they’d call or shoot a text telling me they couldn’t make it for their appointments with Fushiguro. But this is twice where neither of them show up.” 

“Hmm, can’t say I have an idea.” The other shrugs at his superior’s concerns. “I didn’t get a call or text from Y/n either, so maybe I’ll give ‘em one after my shift. Heh. Let’s hope they didn’t replace us with another gym.” 

With trenched brows, Haibara took offense to the younger brunette’s words. “Cut that out, man! I’d be pretty upset if they just suddenly stopped showing up here. Half a year of coming in and out and getting to know each other, only for them to just vanish like that…At the very least, they could give a call!” He passionately bangs on the front desk, giving Ino a startle.

RING-RING-RING!! RING-RING-RING!! 

The two froze at the sudden ring of the desk phone as if Haibara’s fist magically granted them a call. And by the exchanged glances they shared before Ino picked up the phone, they better hope it wasn’t the call they were expecting. “Hello, this is Golden Gate Gym. My name is Takuma Ino; what can I do for you?” 

“Hey, is that you, Ino?”

“Hey, Y/n!” Ino turns to Haibara, whose eyes share the same perplexity as his. “It’s good to hear from you; where’ve you been? You’ve been MIA for almost a week.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had a little accident and sprained my ankle; I couldn’t come to the gym on Monday and Wednesday.”

“Oh, shit, for real?” Haibara watched the younger man’s tone change to concern, which didn’t help his nerves either. “Sorry to hear about that, but it’s a good call not coming here and taking care of yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks. Is Haibara there with you by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah. He’s right next to me, actually.” Ino takes the initiative to give the darker brunette the phone to speak with the one on the other side of the line. Haibara outstretches his arm to take the phone and put the receiving end to his ear. “Yo, Y/n!”

“Hey, Haihai. I meant to call you Wednesday, but I’m letting you know that Mr. Fushiguro and I are still doing our weekly appointments.”

Haibara sighs in relief internally, giving Ino a thumbs up. “Oh, thank God! You two had me worried there for a second. We didn’t see you guys here and thought you’d be a no-show again.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scare. Mr. Fushiguro found out about it and decided it would be….Haahhh….best for me to do my regimine at my apartment instead…”

“Well, that’s nice of him to look out for you with your ankle. I’m sure he’s doing what he can to—“

“Ahaahhnn!!”

A sudden yelp pops into the call out of nowhere and completely takes Haibara aback from the phone as if it was so out of place for the topic that was taking place. Ino notices it when the darker brunette gives him a brief perplexed look, which the younger shrugs at. “Uhh, Y/n? You busy right now?”

Oh, you were busy, all right. You’re at your apartment right now. Your ankle? Absolutely fine, nothing wrong about it in the slightest. The only change, however, is not being at the gym for this entire week and staying home instead. Why?

How about asking your personal trainer who has you propped upside down, standing up with his hands holding you by your ass, stuffing his face to your exposed cunt which he licks and sucks on. The feeling of his tongue digging through your labia has your hips jerking, but his strong arms exhibit unmoving effort in keeping your wetness in his mouth. His pants down to his knees, and his erect length in your hand and brushing your cheek. This is most definitely not the at-home exercise that Haibara is thinking of.

“…Hello?…Y/n, you there?”

Oh, shit! “Y–Yeah, I’m here! Sorry, my ankle is acting up on me—Ohhhh…Fushiguro’s looking at it for me…” Oh, please, he’s not checking shit; fucker indulging himself between your asscheecks, ravishing your folds like a sweet fruit to his tastebuds.

“Oh! So you two are exercising together right now?” Toji nibbles on your vagina and grazes with his teeth, having you gasp and twitch. His tongue surprising your clit prompts a choked whine. “That’s good to know then! Alright then, see you guys when you’re ready to return to the gym. And tell Toji not to put too much on you, ya hear?”

“—Khhhh, mhmm…I’ll give him an earful for you. See you later, Haibara…”

“Great, see ya. Happy Friday!” 

And with that farewell, you can finally toss the phone down and coo to your heart’s content, biting your lips at Toji stuffing his mouth on your bare chasm; his muffled groans vibrate your lower half like crazy. “Ohhooo!! Ohhhfuckkk, I’m gonna cumm,” your words slur with a suck to your clitoris, your hips bucking involuntarily. “Lemme cum, Tojiiii, I wanna—Ahaaaa!!”

He removes his face from your ass with an exhale as if he was dying for breath. But based on the grin plastered on his face, he wouldn’t mind being in this position for a little while. “Oh, I don’t think so, doll. I don’t think ya deserve to cum in my mouth.”

That was the last thing you wanted to hear right now. “Ahahnn!! You’re such an asshole, Toji…”

He chuckles crudely. “That’s where I’m gonna play with next if you don’t stuff my dick in that pretty mouth of y’rs already. Suck me good; then maybe I’ll let the princess cum all over me.”

Broad strokes from his pelvis rub his dick on your cheek, a reminder of your part of this endeavor that you must partake in. The smell of him overwhelms your nostrils into a pornographic trance, your head pounding just from looking at it. You gulp and take the tip into your mouth, sucking and licking the precum off while your hands glide up and down his shaft. “Good girl, good girl…” Toji goes back to smacking his lips on your folds, moving his tongue in whirlpool motions that have you moaning on his cock. God, it feels so good, so fucking good. You can see yourself becoming addicted to this, and that’s a bit scary seeing this professional relationship drift to something more touchy and personal…

…But then again, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by achumuchi + dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[mp3bugs]

Between the Lines

pairing: Viktor x fem!reader

summary: After enrolling at the Academy, you had managed to stumble your way into Viktor's life, and he isn't very keen on letting you go.

wc: 7.5k

a/n: This is my first viktor fic ever... please be nice </3 anw I hope you guys like it. I worked on it for like a week before I deemed it to be good enough for posting.

You were always an achiever. Ever since your parents had taught you how to read you were unstoppable, continuously striving to do more you found interest in a lot of things that the other kids your age never really thought about. It was inevitable that you would eventually become the top student in all of your classes, recognized by your peers and teachers to be one of the most intelligent amongst your age group. It was isolating, the kids around you continued to play while you read books, trying to figure out the meaning behind everything. 

You always attempted to excel at whatever was thrown at you and all your hard work only became more worthwhile the older you got. Getting accepted into the prestigious Academy of Piltover was one of your biggest achievements and every moment you spent within those walls felt sacred and special. Everything around you was a result of your hard work. It wasn’t long before you were introduced to the dean of the Academy, professor Heimerdinger, who was quick to offer you various opportunities that would skyrocket your success. Hesitant, you denied the offers, choosing to focus on your studies instead. 

It took a few months of persisting from the aged yordle, eventually you warmed up and he jumped the gun, immediately offering you an internship with his current assistant, who just so happened to be a pretty renowned researcher and engineer within the Academy. You couldn’t help but take on the offer after reading the researcher’s scope within the field of science he practiced, it was interesting and promising. 

It wasn’t long before you were introduced to the researcher himself. Viktor was his name. He said it with such assurance too, curling around the syllables with a hum and an accent you couldn’t name.

“Viktor.” He held out a hand, the other one was curled around the head of his cane, leaning most of his weight on it. You placed your hand in the empty space he offered. His fingers, thin and calloused, wrapped around yours, engulfing it fully and giving it a firm shake. 

He was lanky and quite frail looking but he held himself high with the confidence of knowing he was one of the best the Academy had to offer. 

“Your reputation precedes you.” He continued, looking down at you with his chin held up high. “Professor Heimerdinger speaks of you often.”

“I hope it’s only good things.” You replied, heart thrumming in your chest. You felt scrutinized under the older man’s gaze, stripping you apart until you stood bare in front of him. It was a challenge. No one had ever thought anything but good things about you. This was different and you were more than eager to prove to him why everyone thinks the way they do about you. 

“Oh, yes. Only good things.”

—------------------------------

It had been a couple of months since then. You had eased into the work environment at the laboratory. It was undoubtedly stressful but you had managed to prove yourself, intelligence and all, time and time again. Working closely with Jayce, Viktor’s research partner, and Viktor himself as his assistant had really set your sights onto the realities of working in science. It wasn’t glamorous, no. In fact it was the complete opposite. There were moments where the three of you had failed to accomplish the simplest of mathematical problems, Viktor had even forgotten his times tables at one point, and Jayce, well, he once somehow forgot the answer to (5+5). Throughout everything, you had developed a close relationship with the two researchers. You felt it was safe to assume that you and Viktor were friends, at the very least. You were really much closer to Jayce, taking into consideration the fact that the larger man was a lot more approachable than the former. The two of you often talked and met up outside of work, finding new things to bond over such as your favorite music, cooking recipes, and somewhat similar personalities. 

Though ever since Jayce had taken up an interest in counselor Medarda he had been spending less time in the lab and more time showing his affections elsewhere, leaving you and Viktor to spend hours alone at times without end. Which was fine, maybe a little awkward but that could be easily pushed aside. You had grown used to the fact that Viktor always had his walls up. Guarded and unwilling to let anybody closer than they should be.

Spending more time with Viktor, one on one, had without a doubt helped a lot in cultivating a better work relationship between the two of you, and sure, maybe you found the older man to be extremely attractive to the point where it was becoming difficult to focus on work but that was besides the point. It was nice spending time with Viktor, despite it mostly being through work, however Jayce’s lack of presence at the lab had fostered some annoyance from the lanky brunette, always muttering under his breath about ‘priorities’ and ‘the future’. You always pretended like you didn’t hear it.

As time went on, work only became more difficult. The rose tinted glasses were harshly torn off your face and you were left fumbling around in the dark, but you had Viktor and Jayce by your side, who were more than willing to aid you in this path. Despite your urge to prove yourself there were moments where you truly needed guidance. The harder the days were, the stronger the urge was to overstay at the laboratory, trying to work out an equation or whatever it may be. Viktor was more irritable in these difficult times, grumbling in a language you didn’t fully understand and becoming extremely pissy when he couldn’t find his pen or a screwdriver.

“M.s Y/L/N.” Viktor called out from where he was sitting. His tone was all too familiar, it was not shy of kindness but you could already sense his growing irritation. He had his back turned to you, numerous papers and blueprints scattered over the desk he slouched over. 

“Yes, sir?” You replied from the other side of the room, your attention on the equation presented to you on the chalkboard. You had been mulling over it for a few minutes now, maybe hours, but you had lost care in keeping time when you’re in the lab. You looked over but he said nothing, not even bothering to turn away from his desk. He beckoned your presence with two fingers. 

Your shoes clicked and clacked against the tile floor as you approached him.

“I’m finding it quite difficult to work efficiently when I cannot find my tools.” Viktor explained quietly, gesturing to his work desk with open hands. You glanced over, not a tool in sight. Nervous, you looked around the room, the days had been blending in together and hours felt like mere minutes. You could not recall where Viktor’s toolbox was. A weird churning feeling began to grow in your gut.

“I’ll bring them right to you, sir.” You mumbled quickly before scurrying off to the other side of the room. You began to peer into any space you could possible. The box was old, janky, and a lot of other unpleasant things. Viktor could replace it if he really wanted to. Something nice that doesn’t squeak awkwardly every time you open it, but was the kind of person who liked to keep his hold on things that are his. 

A little desperate, you began to crawl around the laboratory. Maybe you left it underneath a desk somewhere. The lab was by no means organized. It was hard to keep clean when you had three active brains attempting to break past science and discover something the world had not seen just yet. A stupid excuse but it worked just fine, except for times like these. 

After looking around like a cat chasing a mouse, you had finally found it. The stupid old toolbox that should have probably been tossed into an incinerator by now. It had managed to hide itself underneath a pile of papers, behind a few more boxes of old contraptions and failed projects. Now why would it be there? You pulled it out from its hiding spot with a small yet proud ‘Aha!’, a grin growing on your face. 

“Aha, indeed.” You looked up at the voice. Viktor was standing over you with a small smirk, cane in one hand and the other leaning on the desk you were looking under. You were so engrossed in your task that you didn’t even hear Viktor approaching you. Your position was quite unbecoming, on your knees with some rusty toolbox in your hands, not a very ‘top student’ position.

You flustered under the man’s gaze. You’d never thought that you’d be on your knees in front of the man. Well, you had thought about it but realistically it would never happen. Until now.

“I found your toolbox!” You exclaimed happily, raising it up to the man with flushed cheeks. There weren’t many times where you had Viktor’s full attention. He was a busy man, always on the edge of the breakthrough that continued to distance itself the closer he got. He had no time to dabble into other things when his success was right in front of him, but in the times where you had his attention it was almost daunting.

He plucked the toolbox from your hands with ease, placing it on the desk beside him. Before you could push yourself up from the ground, Viktor held out a hand, pausing your movements. 

“Allow me, please.” He reached down and offered his hand to you while the other remained on his cane, as always. Your eyes flickered from his face to his outstretched hand. His eyes met yours for a split second and you willed yourself to look away. He looked like a prince, a knight in shining armor who was prepared to whisk you away and ride off into the sunset – The blue glow from the hex core only added to this daydream you had. 

Your cheeks flushed into a deeper colour and thankfully you could blame your little side quest for this. You placed your hand in his and the older researcher helped you up from the ground. Once you rose to your feet you couldn’t help but look into his eyes once more, and there he was again with those stupid amber eyes that made you feel like he was looking straight into your soul. 

“Thank you, sir.” You cleared your throat awkwardly and pulled your hand away, tucking it behind your back. You turned back to the desk and pretended to busy yourself by arranging the papers and stacking them into neat piles. 

“It’s really no problem.” Viktor replied, you could hear the smile in his voice, how annoying. “And I would like to believe we are past all this, eh… ‘sir’ nonsense. Please, call me Viktor from now on.”

He truly is annoying. 

It was another long day at the lab. Jayce and Viktor had recently received a letter of approval from the council allowing them to engineer one of their proposed designed models for a new invention involving hextech and they did not want to waste any time. Your shoulders and many other parts of you were aching for rest but you ignored your muscles’ cries for help as you fetched probably your 5th tray of tea for the day. 

“Ah yes, thank you Y/N.” Viktor mumbled absentmindedly as you placed the tray on the far end of the desk, he gave you an appreciative wave but his focus was primarily on the contraption in his hands, it seemed to be a smaller model of the hex core with a case around it. Jayce looked away from the chalkboard and mumbled a quick thank you as well. 

“Y/N, would you be so kind and–” Jayce was quickly interrupted by an annoyed cough. 

“Eh, last I recall, Ms. Y/L/N is my assistant, is that correct?” Viktor turned around in his chair, eyes locking straight into yours. He had a pointed look, a singular eyebrow raised and a small quirk on his lips, almost as if he was taunting you to try and deny his claims. You could only nod your head, unsure if you could even offer a rebuttal to any of this. “That’s right.” He hummed and turned back to his work, the sound of the wheels of his chair filled the growing silence in the room. 

You turned to look at Jayce who, bless his soul, wore his heart out on his sleeve and had a very confused look on his face. You could only shrug with an awkward smile. 

You attempted to ignore the interaction, sipping your own cup of tea in the meantime. Viktor was probably itching with pettiness and could barely hold it in any longer. Maybe it was reasonable. Jauce had found love, one of the biggest distractions to the progression of science as Viktor would say. Those words would always find him late at night, when his eyes were heavy with sleep but Jayce would not entirely be at fault, maybe Viktor just needed to loosen up a little. 

“If you wish for my assistant to do anything for you, then you must ask for my permission, yes?” Viktor added, the hextech model long forgotten as he scratched the nib of his pen against some scratch paper. 

Jayce could only roll his eyes, “Vik, may I ask Y/N to do something for me?” He was now fully turned away from the chalkboard, equation be damned. 

The lanky man swiveled on his chair once more, his index finger and his thumb curled around his chin, feigning deep thought, Viktor looked up at the ceiling and let out a sweet hum of random notes, “No.” The older man quipped monotonously and swiftly turned back to his desk. “I would like for Ms. Y/L/N to stay put. I may need her assistance and I would hate for her to be distracted with other unnecessary things.” 

Jayce sighed and turned back to the chalkboard. He had bigger problems to solve. 

That was weird.

It wasn’t unusual for the two to have a few petty fights which were quite literally childish most of the time but this felt different. An odd feeling began to stir in your gut as you glanced between the two researchers. Ignoring the gnawing feeling at your gut, you decided not to pry. 

Once the conversation had properly died and down and had been forgotten, Viktor took a small glance at you from over his shoulder. Your eyes met and he beckoned you over with a small gesture, his index finger pressed against his lips. How childish. You couldn’t help the small smile that grew on your face at his antics. As quietly as you could, you made your way to his desk, occupying the empty seat next to him. 

“What do you think of this equation, hm?” Viktor asked quietly, practically whispering the words into your ear. His warm breath brushed against your cheek sending shivers straight down your spine. You straightened up in the chair and cleared your throat. You looked down at the paper but it was hard to look over the math when Viktor’s arm was pressed right into yours. Despite the four layers of clothing that separate your skin from his, you could feel your cheeks burning up from the contact alone. 

Without even thinking about it, you shifted your gaze from the paper to Viktor. Thankfully, his eyes were trained on the paper, lost in his own world. You took advantage of that fact and really soaked in all the little details because when would you have another chance to be this close to the brunette?

His cheeks were angular, eyes sharp and he lacked a lot of body fat but he was never ugly, no. Despite all of the things that your peers have said about him, you always thought he was attractive. The small crease in between his eyebrows, the moles he had scattered around his skin. You took the risk and took the smallest glance towards his lips. He always had a habit, unconscious maybe, where the corners of his lips would quirk up when he was deep in thought. 

“Did it stump your brain as well?” Viktor mused, putting a halt to the Viktor Express going around in your brain. He leaned even closer and nudged your arm with his elbow, a small exhale of a chuckle leaving through his nose. 

“I’m sure it’s correct.” You whispered back breathlessly, cheeks flushed a dark hue of red, you could only hope that Viktor didn’t notice it. 

“I want your input.” He insisted, urging you even, with another nudge. Your resolve was slowly breaking, this proximity was in no way good for your heart, which was already threatening to beat out of your rib cage and present itself on the desk in front of you. As you gnawed anxiously on your lower lip, you looked at the equation again. It was solved… but something felt off. You pointed at a part of the equation and glanced at Viktor. 

“You could change the variable here.”

Viktor hummed, content with your answer. He snatched back the paper and began to write up a new equation. You dropped your shoulders and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. The distance helped calm your thumping heart. There were moments where you felt like Viktor knew what he was doing. Aware of his effect  on you and deciding to play around with it – but as he solved that stupid equation it felt nothing more than a friendly interaction.

—------------------------------

It had been a month since Viktor had you ‘secretly’ help him on an equation. The entire scenario had plagued your every waking moment, the vision of Viktor so close to you that it was burned into your eyelids. The smell of his cologne was so subtle, you didn’t even know that he wore cologne before that moment, but now, it was all you could think about. You attempted to keep your distance after that day, not wanting your little crush you had to foster into something more. You had to remain professional, this was a work setting, but Viktor was persistent, almost as if he had begun to enjoy your company these past few weeks — Besides the fact that you were his assistant. 

Viktor started requesting your presence more consistently at the lab. At first you understood his request. Things were only getting busier and the man would surely need some help during these times but it looked a little suspicious when he would ask you to complete the most mundane of tasks that, despite his schedule, he could accomplish himself. 

“Could you arrange my pens?”

“I need your help erasing that chalkboard.”

“I need you to sign these papers. Yes, just forge them, no one will know.”

It was confusing. You didn’t know what to think of it, really. You were just trying to survive every interaction at the lab and hoping you didn’t die from heart failure. Despite everything, you did not want to assume that he reciprocated even an inkling of your feelings – it was just highly unlikely. No hypothesis needed. No tests or observations. It was never going to happen, and you knew that. So you continued to push that thought to the back of your mind and buried yourself in work. 

You had stupidly hoped that after all this time, your feelings would dwindle. It was merely a crush at first sight. Viktor was undeniably a good looking man. All angles and sharp edges but it only added to his charm. Amber eyes paired with his boyish smile, the moles that decorated his skin like stars on a clear night sky and that stupid accent that always got your heart racing. Evidently, those feelings had not even diminished in the slightest. 

You needed a break from him. A break from the laboratory. A break from the hours that you would spend alone with that man. Some time away to allow yourself to really bury these feelings deep inside you and never to be found again. So you called in sick.

—------------------------------

You woke up the morning of your so-called ‘sick day’ feeling peaceful for the first time in a long time. You had planned to stay in your dorm room, read a few books, work on a few assignments, and figure out a way to find Viktor as unattractive as possible. That would be the hardest task of the day.

Maybe it could be the way that he closes himself off when he’s working, or the way that he blatantly ignores you when he’s too focused. No person would want that right? It was reasonable, your scapegoat into finally getting out of this scrappy mess of feelings that made you feel like a child, yet it only fueled your attraction even further. Your brain travelled to the way Viktor would play with the ends of his hair when he was deep in thought, twirling the messy strands of hair with his index finger. It all went downhill from there. Your mind raced with the thoughts of his long hands, calloused fingers, the way his Adam’s apple would bob when he fought irritation. Sometimes, when you were lucky enough and stuck around long enough at the lab, you would get to see a sliver of Viktor’s chest, his frustrations leading him to loosening his usually tightly knotted tie and unbuttoning the top of his blouse. Those days felt more worth it.

You were pulled away from your thoughts by a series of knocks on your door. You weren’t expecting company but you assumed it was one of your classmates passing by to borrow some notes. You got up and moved to answer the door. 

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Shit.

“Viktor! What’re you doing here? Did you receive my letter? I called in sick today.” The words rushed out of you before you could even think. You faked a cough to try and support your case further, hoping that the taller man was oblivious enough to believe it. 

“Yes, eh… I did receive your letter. I simply wanted to check up on you.” Viktor said in a matter-of-factly tone, waving his hand around. The brunette gave you a once-over and the horror of realization settled itself deep into your skin. It was pretty obvious that you weren’t planning on leaving your dorm room today, so you hadn’t bothered to change out of your sleeping clothes – which in hindsight was quite revealing in a lot of areas. This was more than embarrassing, more than humiliation. This was hell.

Viktor placed a hand on the door, leaning on the hard wood slightly, “May I come in?” His cunning eyes bore into yours, practically towering over your height. You spluttered over your words, your brain had long melted into a puddle as you looked up at the older man. It’s that damn accent. In an attempt to salvage the situation you simply nodded your head, not trusting your mouth to listen to your brain. You stepped to the side, giving the man some space to enter. 

Thump. Tap. Thump. Tap. Thump. Tap. 

He looked around the room once before turning back to you. 

“How are you feeling? Hm?” Viktor voiced out with a worried look. Both hands were laid to rest on his cane, favoring his weight on his good leg. 

You swallowed in an attempt to release the growing knot in your throat, “I’ve got the flu.” The words came out quieter than you expected it to. You weren’t looking at Viktor, in fact you were looking past him and favoring the posters behind his figure. Despite this, you could feel his gaze burning into your skin, maybe he didn’t favor the fact that you were revealing more skin than he had ever seen from you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling a little self conscious. 

“I have to apologize.” Viktor took a step towards you and it took everything in you to not take a step back. “It seems that I have, eh, overworked you… But I couldn’t help myself, you make a perfect assistant.” He continued on. Viktor tucked a hand into his pocket and tilted his head to the side. Was he trying to seduce you? Your heart thumped harder in your chest, sweat began to pool in your palms and around your temples. Maybe you really did have the flu. 

You didn’t skip over the small compliment Viktor had tossed to you. In fact, the words bounced around your head like an echo in a large cave. You had spent so many months trying to prove yourself as an intelligent colleague, that it wasn’t a mistake that Heimerdinger so kindly offered you up to Viktor. It seems to have paid off.

“It’s alright. I think it’s the weather.” Your voice wavered and you let out another cough in an attempt to cover it up. A big mistake. The cough had seemingly activated something inside Viktor. He walked over to you, worry written all over his face. Before you could react, he had reached out and placed the back of his hand against your forehead. The touch was gentle, barely even there – as if you could feel the molecules between the two of you creating that barrier of separation.

“You are quite warm.” Viktor commented quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself. Just as if his hand had a mind of its own for that moment, Viktor abruptly pulled away, clearing his throat awkwardly and tucking his hand straight into his pocket. “My apologies, that was quite forward of me.” 

“It’s alright.” You repeated dumbly. Your brain was mush. It seemed no longer viable to consider yourself one of the top students at the Academy when your brain seemed to run away whenever in the presence of an attractive engineer. Any other normal girl would be ecstatic in this situation. Any other normal girl who had a crush on Viktor would rejoice, their minds going a mile a minute on how to take advantage of the fact that he was in their dorm room, a proper place of privacy – unfortunately you were not like other girls. 

“Thank you for checking up on me.” The words came out so quiet. You couldn’t believe how shy you were at that moment. You were so confident. Going in head strong no matter what situation you were thrown in. Viktor may be right, love is the biggest hindrance for the progression of science. With how close Viktor was standing next to you, you had no choice but to crane your neck to look up at him. You don’t recall the researcher being this tall before. 

“It is, eh… no problem. Don’t mention it.” Viktor mumbled quickly. He gave you a curt nod and began to rush out your room. He was out of your dorm before you could realize it, the moment your door clicked shut you were pulled out of your trance. 

What just happened?

—------------------------------

You had tried to ignore whatever thoughts you had about Viktor from that day forward. You had pushed the memories of the day he visited your dorm into the pits of your mind. It was all a distraction. If you weren’t so persistent your grades would have started slipping by now – thankfully they haven’t. Viktor was simply expressing his care for a colleague. Surely he had done the same and then some for his beloved research partner, right?

Though it only got more difficult to ignore these thoughts when he suddenly started to push you away. 

Your days at the lab were cut short with a curt, “You may go home now, Ms. Y/L/N.” He would barely even spare you a glance, his attention solely on whatever he pleased on doing, which apparently was anything but looking at you. It hurt. The same way an injection would feel. It was quick and subtle, but you could feel the imprint somewhere on your body. 

You had lost your voice. Your arguments and small little conversations to attempt to stay for even a few minutes longer would die down before the syllables had even formed. Shadowed in defeat, you would quietly leave the lab. 

Had Viktor changed his mind about you? Did he find a better student for the job? Or did he realize that having an assistant hinders his progress more than it should aid? You could do nothing. The days were cut shorter and shorter until there was nothing left. Until Viktor himself had requested that you, “Focus on your studies, your presence is no longer needed at the lab.” 

His words felt like a knife into your chest, or worse, it felt like he had physically reached into your ribcage, wrapped his lithe fingers around your heart and yanked it right out of you. You didn’t know what to think, so you followed his orders. Just like you always did.

Your days became less exciting. You had adapted back to your usual routine of attending your lectures and heading to the library to drown yourself in your studies. Viktor’s words would replay in your mind like a broken record. He sounded so cold, so closed off. You thought that you had at least breached through his walls and found your own place by the outskirts of his own mind but he had abruptly pushed you away and placed brick after brick to keep you out. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really only saw you as an assistant. 

It had been a month before you were reminded of anything hextech related. You had managed to distract yourself enough that you barely even thought about the lab, which was great, until you saw Jayce at the library.

Without a thought, you approached him. You were starving for answers, anything to explain why you had been basically fired.

“Jayce.” You called out, a little louder than what you intended which earned you a few hushes from the students who were probably cramming three month’s worth of information in their head. The midterms were coming up, which led you to the library as well.

“Y/N! It’s been a while!” The bright man had leaned over and engulfed you in his arms. He never really knew of the idea of personal space but you had always appreciated the warmth and comfort he would so freely give you, so you selfishly accepted it.

“It has been.” You mumbled, a little sad at that. Aside from the fact that it was a great opportunity to work with the two creators of hextech, you had also just missed the presence of the two men. They were practically a constant in your life, something that you looked forward to every day, all that just to be yanked from you with a cold tone. 

“Y’finally decided you had enough of the lab?” Jayce chuckled with a shake of his head. He wouldn’t blame you if so. It was strenuous and anything but glamorous. He had figured that you had gotten your fill and decided to spend the remainder of your youth doing other things rather than slave away at a secluded lab. 

“Uhm, no? Viktor told me to stop coming.” 

Jayce blinked at you awkwardly and you blinked back. An odd feeling tugged at your heart, maybe it was a touchy subject but you were completely and utterly desperate for some sort of closure. Something that could make letting everything go a little easier than it was now. 

Jayce let out an awkward chuckle, lifting his arm and rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, he did? That’s weird.” 

“He never told you?” You inquired with a lift of your eyebrow. Jayce simply shook his head, doing as much as he could to avoid your gaze. A weird tension began to grow in the space between you, and Jayce, as much of an image he is for Piltover, simply could not handle awkward situations. 

“That’s crazy! Anyway, I have to go.” Jayce plucked a book from the shelf in front of you, seemingly at random and scurried off. You turned to chase after the man but he practically ran out of the library. You thought you were confused before this, but now it felt as though you didn’t know anything. 

As much as you wanted to study for your midterms, your brain was more focused on the sudden shift in your conversation with Jayce. You had run through all the possibilities in your head. Perhaps Jayce was feeling awkward now that you had been fired or maybe he was embarrassed that he was left out of the loop with the endeavours and plans of his very own research partner. You tried to entertain the thought that Jayce attempted to sway Viktor’s decision and the latter simply went behind his back – but even that sounded stupid. 

You looked up from your textbooks to where the ghost of Jayce’s presence once stood. Nothing was making sense. 

This was stupid. You were supposed to be studying for your midterms, you should be worried about your grades and your academic standing — but you were always terrible at following your brain instead of your heart. 

You were pacing around the entrance of the lab. You had been for the past five minutes. You wanted to speak with Viktor or better yet, you wanted to wrap your hands around his throat and beg the man to just speak to you, but that simply couldn’t be no matter the circumstances. Maybe in a perfect world. The bigger concern was if this really was a good idea or if you were about to make a complete fool of yourself — but the latter was a fleeting concern. You had probably made a fool of yourself in front of Viktor numerous times, this could be an exception, right? It’s not like you weren’t allowed to speak with him anymore, and if that was the case, well, you wouldn’t know what you would do. 

You ran your fingers through your hair for the nth time and decided to just go for it. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Jayce had answered you at the door. He was barely peeking out the door, almost as if he was hiding. “Vik isn’t here.”

“I didn’t even…” You stopped mid way. You could hear the distinct sounds of tools hitting metal. That couldn’t be anyone else. You attempted to peer past Jayce but he was a large man, his chest covering what little opening the door already offered. 

“Jayce, please. Let me talk to him?” You pleaded quietly, placing a hand on his arm. 

Jayce sighed and dropped his head, allowing it to hang low from his shoulders. He looked back into the lab, anxiously chewing at his lower lip before he reluctantly agreed. He pushed the door open and let you pass under his arm as he stepped out — before you could ask why he was leaving, he had shut the door behind you. 

You turned around, heartbeat loud in your ears. There he was. He had his back turned to the door, hovering around the chalkboard. You could sense the frustration growing from him and he was definitely too engrossed in whatever he was doing to notice that you were not Jayce.

Your heart ached, the numbing feeling spreading from your chest until your fingertips. Just seeing the tuft of his unruly hair had you missing him more than you ever had. He was right in front of you, you did not need any further proof of that fact, but in that moment it felt like he was a million miles away.

“Jayce, excuse my language, but what the fuck is this math.” Viktor sighed in annoyance, running a hand over his face before he turned to look in your direction. Viktor’s eyes widened in realization the moment they landed on your figure. Almost as if he was caught in the act, the man did not move a muscle, simply staring right at you like he had just seen an apparition of Janna herself. 

Viktor cleared his throat and straightened up, “What are you doing here?” 

You shook your head and took a step forward. You were having none of this nonsense anymore, “Viktor, what’s going on?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Viktor sounded so calm that it infuriated you. How could he act so normal, so nonchalant, after everything that had happened? You shook your head again and looked away. You could feel yourself wavering, tears brimming in your eyes and your lips had begun to wobble. This conversation could have gone a million different ways but no matter what, it felt like you would eventually end up just like this. 

“Please just talk to me.” Your voice cracked but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. This was more than begging for your position back, you at the very least, just wanted to be able to talk to Viktor again. To go back to the way things were before. The rift that grew ever larger between the two of you had you resisting the urge to reach out like a pathetic child. 

The engineer simply sighed and tilted his head to the side, shifting his weight onto his healthier leg. “I’d like to believe we are talking right now.”

“Why did you tell me to stop coming to the lab?” 

Viktor simply turned back around and resumed his work. “I would rather not discuss that now, Ms. Y/L/N.” 

You were at a loss. There was no use in being rational now. You walked up to the chalkboard, right behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso. If he did not want to talk, then so be it, but you were not leaving the lab without at least letting him feel what you wanted to say. Your heart was pounding, maybe it had never stopped. You feared that it was strong enough that Viktor could feel it through all the barriers between you.

Viktor tensed underneath your touch. The sound of chalk scratching against the green board had come to an immediate halt. 

“I don’t think you understand.” Viktor whispered after what felt like minutes of silence, forehead pressed against the chalkboard. He didn’t dare look at you, not right now. Not when he felt so weak. One look from you and he was fucked. Viktor was a selfish man. He had grown up with nothing, he was nothing. Even after making a name for himself at Piltover, no one would pay him any mind. No one except you. You and your expressive eyes, kind words, and just how much you cared. It scared him. How could he face you when you had managed to peel through his carefully decorated façade?

You were nothing like the rest of them. You had looked past his physical being, you had seen him more than his weak leg, his cane, and the back brace embedded into his skin. It was a part of him now. It had always been, yet you had managed to strip that away from him. It was odd for Viktor to claim that you had treated him like a real person, the syllables were foreign on his tongue, but his lips were prepared to curl around them and proclaim to the world that you were perfect — and that was the problem. You’re young, intelligent, talented, beautiful, and so much more than what he could ever be, so why would he allow himself the privilege of being selfish and keeping you all to himself? You deserved so much more, more than the world and all the stars — how could he give you any of that?

“Let me understand.” You mumbled, nuzzling your face into his back. Your words were muffled and it tugged at the strings carefully wrapped around Viktor’s heart. You were so endearing, there was so much to love — Viktor could be dubbed a crazy scientist and an overachieving engineer, but he would toss that all away if it gave him the possibility of holding you close at night. 

Silence grew in the lab once more. It was cold but with your arms around Viktor that hardly felt like a problem. You were afraid that maybe you were pushing him too much, but the longer you stayed like this, you could feel him slowly letting go. 

“It seems that I have grown affectionate towards you.” Viktor explained quietly, hesitantly. You had never heard him sound so unsure of himself. “It’s quite bothersome. I cannot focus on my work like this.” You couldn’t stop the small giggle that escaped your lips. His words were soft, syllables pronounced but it was oozing with emotion. 

You shifted around, loosening your arms around the man’s torso in favor of wanting to see his face. “Is that so bad?”

You looped around but Viktor kept himself still. Eyes closed and forehead against the chalkboard. It looked like if he had even bothered to move the whole world would collapse in on itself. Viktor could feel your gaze burning into his skin. He scrunched his eyes shut even further and shook his head, turning to look the other way. You placed your hand on his arm, fingers wrapped around the fabric of his buttoned up shirt. You tugged on his shirt. The engineer let out a shaky breath and reluctantly turned to look at you. 

Viktor reached out, cupping a hand around the side of your face. “Eh… maybe not so much.” His thumb smoothed over the apple of your cheek. His touch was so light, so soft — almost as if he pressed any harder, you would break. You leaned into Viktor’s touch, humming softly. 

“I like you too, you know?” You mumbled. You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. It felt as though you were melting under his gaze, you didn’t think it was humanly possible to look at someone with so much affection and care — Viktor was more than human anyway. 

It may not have been the right place or time, hell, the two of you were practically professing your love for one another at the goddamn lab. Viktor had always said that the lab was where miracles happened and you guessed that he wasn’t so wrong with that. The two of you remained like that for a few more moments before the brunette pulled away. The ghost of Viktor’s touch was burned into your skin and you were reluctant to admit that you had already missed it. 

He took a step forward and placed a gentle hand right by the crown of your head. 

“I may have picked up on a few hints.” 

Viktor leaned in and pressed his lips on your forehead. 

Your mind was racing and your heart was threatening to beat faster and faster until you died of heart failure right then and there. You scrunched your eyes shut and allowed yourself to really soak in the moment. This was what you had been waiting for, craving even, since you had met the man. You resisted the urge to pinch yourself, wondering if this all may be some fever dream. Despite feeling like you were on top of the world, Viktor’s touch kept you grounded. 

The man pulled away and cupped your face once more, this time with both of his hands. Cane discarded to lean on the side of the chalkboard. His gaze was almost scrutinizing, as if he himself was assessing if this was real or not. After a few moments, he pulled away and cleared his throat. 

“I hope that answers your question sufficiently.” Viktor adjusted his uniform vest and grabbed his cane. “Now if you don’t mind… I would, eh… like to return to my work. I think I had gotten enough inspiration to continue for the day.” He simply nodded and picked up a piece of chalk. You didn’t miss the fact that his cheeks were dusted with a soft pink hue. 

“Does this mean I can stay?” You hummed, arms wrapped around one of the poles that held the chalkboard up, a cheeky grin on your lips. 

Viktor turned his gaze to you, almost bashfully, and nodded his head. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. That would be quite pleasant.” 

You let out a pleasant hum, turning to head to the couch before you were interrupted by a cough. You turned your head to the side, curious and a little confused. 

“Actually, ehm… there are some papers over there that need sorting… And I would like a cup of tea.” Viktor confessed shyly, bringing up a hand to point at a desk on the far side of the lab. You followed his hand with wide eyes. It was definitely more than ‘some’ papers, as Viktor had mentioned. It was at least two tall stacks worth of papers sitting next to each other. 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “Seems like I’m kind of important ‘round here, huh?” You nodded your head and walked to the desk, determined to get started. 

Viktor nodded his head with a small smile, “Yes. Very important actually.”

[ms-demeanor]

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[inuyashaluver]

hi hi!! can i request a mlt one where she meets single parent reader, they fall in love and then reader + kid go to her games to support her!!!

my girls - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which maya practices at a park and your daughter steals her ball, when you go to apologise, the both of you are star struck

warnings: so. long. swearing

a/n: ITS MAYA BABY!!! thanks so much for the request, hope you enjoy, got a little carried away, whoopppss❤️

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you and your girlfriend, maya have to thank your daughter, ellie for your introduction to each other.

you always knew you wanted to be a mother, and so, at 20, you decided to go to a clinic and become one alone.

sure it was hard to balance the baby and work as a physio, but the continual support of your friends and family made it worthwhile. and your daughter, was one of the best things that happened to you, and you couldn’t help but say maya was one of the best things that happened to you as well, maya feeling exactly the same.

ellie, was in her ‘terrible-twos’ stage, all round meaning she was a little shit at the moment. she was a mini you, your attitudes and mannerisms completely passing onto her, she was definitely your daughter, something that your clients loved to tease you about as she sat in on their appointments.

you had recently discovered that your daughter had quite a fascination with balls, specifically, soccer balls. everytime you put on a football game, your daughter stares at the screen in front of her, completely entranced and copying their every move. you can’t help but think maybe you’ve got a future, famous footballer on your hands.

—

one day, you had taken ellie to the park on an early, sunday morning. the air was crisp, you and your daughter were completely bundled up amongst the cold, matching red noses and cheeks prominent on your features. walking hand and hand, you take her towards the equipment, watching her every move.

“mummy, look!” ellie giggles, going down the small slide, dressed like a small snowman. “wow, baby!” you exclaim, lifting her in the air and pecking her pink cheeks repeatedly, her little giggles bringing a big smile to your face. you hold her hand around the equipment, pushing her on the swing, playing on the playground with her, whatever she wants.

you watch her play, a bright smile evident on her face, until you see her face light up and she bolts away from you. your eyes widen, she’s running towards a girl on the field next to the equipment. she’s wearing a hoodie and shorts, her hair tied into a loose ponytail, she dribbles the football up and down the field, doing her own drills.

all you kept thinking as you ran was: “when did my child become this fast? i need to put her in football” you chase after her, “ellie, no!”, she continues to sprint towards the mysterious girl, finally stopping in front of her and pointing at the ball. the girl looks down at her surprised, “oh! hello, little one, is your mummy around?”, ellie looks up at her with awestruck eyes, nodding her head slowly at the girl's words. she continued to point at the ball that was stopped under the girl’s foot, “do you want this?”, ellie didn’t speak, just nodded her head.

at this point, you were lightly jogging, carefully watching the interaction between the two. the girl lightly kicks the ball towards ellie, ellie grabs it with her hands and sits on the ground, the older girl quickly sitting down cross legged in front of her. “what’s your name?” the girl questions softly, “ellie” she gives her a toothy grin, “hi, ellie, i’m maya” she returns the grin. “ellie!” you finally reach them, absolutely breathless. you stand with your hands resting on your thighs, breathing laboured and difficult, staring at the ground.

“i’m so sorry about her, she really loves football and-” you look up from the ground, looking at one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen. “hi” maya breathes out, she thought you were absolutely breathtaking. “hi” you reply shyly, kneeling in front of her, hands on ellie’s small shoulders. “what did mummy say about strangers?” you quirk your brow at the small girl in front of you, she just looks at you with a guilty smile.

“stranger danger!” she exclaims, you nod your head in response, “yes, good girl!”, you weren’t too caught up in the interaction, the girl in front of you seeming trustworthy. “but mummy, she’s pretty” she pouts up at you, your cheeks go slightly pink, “yes she is pretty, but still a stranger” maya in front of you stared on with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “oh, sorry! i’m maya” she cautiously sticks her hand out, you immediately take it and gently shake her hand, “(y/n), and ellie, obviously” maya nods her head with a smile.

“now, ellie, we’re not strangers, so it’s okay” ellie makes a small noise of understandment before focusing her attention back on the ball in front of her. “not to be rude or anything, but how old are you? you seem very young to be a mum” she asks, scared she may have offended you, “no, you’re not being rude at all, i’m 22, young but worth it, i think” you shrug with a giggle, maya smiles at you brightly, “ah, i see”, “and how old are you, maya?” you question, “i’m 21” you nod your head, both of you just softly smiling at each other.

the attraction you felt for each other was obvious, both of you wanted to get to know each other better. “sorry if this is weird, but um” she scratches her neck sheepishly, “would you like to, maybe go for a coffee, only if you have time of course!” she rushes her words, not even stopping for a breath. you can’t help but smile at her shyly, “i’d like that”, she returns your shy smile, it only grew when your daughter rolls the ball over to maya expectantly, all of you could sense a special connection forming.

all of you had walked to a nearby coffee shop, ellie holding onto your hand tightly as you walked. you engaged in small talk with maya, conversation flowing so smoothly, you felt as though you’d known each other your whole lives. when you’d found a table, ellie insisted that she sat next to maya, tightly gripping her hand. maya smiles at her so brightly, your heart soared.

“so what do you do?” maya questions, slowly stirring the sugar into her coffee cup. “i’m a physiotherapist” you say cheekily, grinning at her brightly. “wow! that’s awesome!” you giggle at her words, “nah, not really” you wave your hand at her, “and what do you do?” you lean forward, resting your head on your clasped hands.

she gets slightly nervous at your closeness, “um, i’m a football player” you widen your eyes, “no way!” you exclaim, she winces at your volume, putting her hand over your mouth. “mummy, shhhhhh!” ellie holds her finger up to her mouth, the two of you look down at her, giggling profusely.

“sorry, that’s amazing, maya! for what club?” she smiles shyly, “manchester united” ellie whips her head from her colouring page, “mummy!” she grunts, opening her mouth but she can’t get her words out, but you know what she’s saying. “her favourite club” you grin, maya looks down at her with a bright smile, “you’re a smart girl, ellie” she laughs when your daughter nods her head, she gently pats the top of it before turning her attention back on you.

the rest of the day went exceptionally well, you’d spent at least 4 hours with maya and only wanted more, but your daughter fast asleep in her arms meant it was time to go home. maya walks you to your car, placing ellie into her car seat and doing her seatbelt up. “you’ve done this before” you give her a surprised grin, “cousins” she shrugs cheekily, standing in front of you. she’s slightly taller than you, so you look up at her slightly with a smile.

“i’d love to see you again” you say, lightly squeezing her arm before letting go. her breath hitches at your action, “me too,” she breathes out, your smile brightens, you grab your phone from your pocket, she does the same and you exchange numbers. “you know, you a physio, me a footballer, match made in heaven, don’t you think?” you give her a light slap on her arm, your smile never ceasing, “you know, i think you’re right” you match her energy. she pulls you into a tight hug, lasting for a couple before she reluctantly pulls away.

“see you around?” maya questions, lightly gripping your hand, you give it a gentle squeeze, “absolutely.”

—

and you did see her again, you started dating after about 4 dates. your relationship was pure, loving and genuine. you’d been dating for about a year and a half, it couldn’t have been any better. you and maya absolutely loved each other, positively head over heels. it also helped that ellie was absolutely obsessed with the girl, her face lighting up everytime she walks through the door. she eventually moved in, it might have seemed quick but it just felt right.

you’d managed to get a job at manchester united as one of their physios. maya always made an excuse to come and see you.

“baby, my hamstring is playing up” you look up to see your girlfriend leaning on the doorframe with crossed arms. you shake your head at her gently, gesturing for her to lie down. you get up to examine her, lightly helping her stretch, maya always sending you smirks when your hands roamed over her body, clearly different from your regular client consultations.

“okay, baby, you’re good” you grab her hands to pull her up but she just pulls you down on top of her, “baby, no” she whines out, “it hurts” she pouts at you. you laugh at her expression, giving her a quick kiss on her lips, maya’s hand immediately going to the back if your neck and holding you there, deepening the kiss. you hum into her when her hands move up your shirt before you pull away, you knew you’d get walked in on knowing your luck.

“sorry, baby, i don’t want you getting in trouble” you breathe against her lips, quickly pecking them one more time before moving off her and going back to your desk.

“you’re no fun” she huffs out, a scowl evident on her face before she gives you a quick kiss on your lips, going to walk out of the room back to training. “i love you” you sing out, she shakes her head at you, “yeah, yeah, i love you too” she sticks her tongue out at you and you return the gesture.

—

it was game day for manchester united, a grand final in fact. you and ellie had been hyping maya up, telling her that she would do amazing. the girl was convinced you weren’t watching the match, you told her you’d be working in the back in case anything happened, in reality, you had a little surprise up your sleeve for your special girl.

you and ellie sat in the friends and family section, wearing your ‘le tissier’ jerseys, matching grins plastered on your face. “you excited, ells?” you remark at your daughter's bright face, her eyes focusing on the pitch in front of her. she nods her head enthusiastically, “where’s may may?” (a nickname she loved to call maya), she sits on your lap, looking around in search of your girlfriend. “she’s coming, lovey, we need to be patient” you coo, gently hugging the small girl on your lap. she nods in understanding, playing with your fingers and rings.

surely enough, the girls started coming out, you and ellie cheering loudly when you see your favourite girl. maya hadn’t seen you both yet, she was so focused you watch maya with a proud smile, watching her stern expression as she high fives the opposition, taking her position. ellie was so focused, you couldn’t believe how stimulated she was. the game was intense, but manchester united managed to secure the win.

the girls and the crowd cheer loudly, ellie screaming and jumping on the chair, you hoist her up on your waist so she can get a better look. ella sees you first, her eyes widening and immediately rushing to get maya. the girl drags her over to your direction, maya immediately perks up and sprints over to you, bundling the both of you up into a tight embrace. “my girls!” she exclaims, “le tissier jerseys, huh?” she smirks, giving ellie a loving kiss on her head until she turns to you, pupils wide and kissing you passionately, pulling away when she feels a little hand on her cheek.

“my mummy, may may” she frowns, “ellie, we share mummy, darling” she explains, giving the girl another kiss on her cheek. she lets out a little squeal, you laugh at the interaction. kissing both of them on the cheek. she takes ellie from you, holding her on her hip and talking to you until she gets called to receive her medal.

“can i take her?” maya looks at you cheekily, you laugh and nod, watching them both walk over to the podium, maya puts the medal on ellie’s neck, taking her quickly to the rest of the team, all of them excited to see her. you have access to the pitch, you walk on and take numerous photos.

they hoist up the trophy, celebrating with one another. maya runs over to you with ellie hand in hand, both of them with matching grins. maya lifts her up again, you gently take the medal off ellie and drape it over maya’s neck, “congratulations, beautiful” giving her a quick kiss on her and ellie’s cheek, ellie seems to doze off in the girls arms, maya finally gets to kiss you the way she wanted, leaving you absolutely breathless. she loved her girls. and you definitely loved yours.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

mayaletissier: my best girls, love you to bits

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yourname: you’re the cutest, i love you

↳ mayaletissier: milf

↳ yourname: WOW OKAY

↳ mayaletissier: my ultimate, dream milf

↳ yourname: maya.

↳ mayaletissier: sorry

read part two here!! [part 2]

[riizetarot]

update on seunghan's return

will seunghan be a part of riize's may comeback?

the seven of swords calls attention to deceit, lying, and betrayal. we saw this card come out in the last timing update, along with the emperor. it sucks that things have taken a turn in this way, but i still believe that things will be righted and that there will be consequences for sm's actions. for the sake of this question though, it's a "no".

was he supposed to return in this next comeback? did the company change its mind on it?

yes. the six of cups has come out multiple times in the past in relation to seunghan and riize, the card of reconnection and nostalgia. we were supposed to get our rii7e... but it looks like management made its final decision after flip flopping these past several months.

what happened that the trajectory changed?

the last time the high priestess came out in my reading, it symbolized the female leadership that had a heavy hand in making the decision for seunghan to return to the group or not. with the eight of wands and eight of swords, i'm getting such a clear message about this. leadership succumbed to fear. this decision to exclude seunghan was seemingly made hastily, possibly last minute, due to them thinking there was no other choice. what's worse is that those limitations were self-imposed. the eight of swords specifically talks about someone who needs to get out of the victim mentality and embrace new perspectives. it looks like leadership were on the right track but weren't able to in the end.

will seunghan ever return to riize? when could that be?

i'll be honest, and i'm sure you're feeling the same way. this reading is upsetting. so much so that i had to step away to make sure i finished it when i was neutral again. but as discouraging as this may be, the cards haven't led me astray yet, so i'm choosing to believe this. i hope you can too. the chariot is a resounding "yes". it's the card of overcoming obstacles and pushing forward to victory. the three of cups indicates a timeline somewhere in late june to early july.

you might be wondering, why then? i wondered too. then it hit me. would it be due to ot7 continuing the boycott?

the strength card. another resounding "yes", the card that symbolizes resilience and courage, especially in challenging times. boycotting is no small feat. it can feel unrewarding. alienating. it's emotionally and therefore physically taxing. no doubt there will be times you want to give up, but i promise it can be worthwhile. seunghan can still come back, as long as we stay strong. we've done it once before. who's to say we can't do it again?

final message of this reading:

this card came out while i was shuffling, before i asked the last question about the boycott. i didn't understand why at first and for what part of the reading it fit until i remembered the meaning of the card. i'll copy the excerpt from this deck's booklet. "the seven of wands reveals that you are now in a position in which you may have to defend yourself or others. you've reached a certain level of success so others may try to knock you down. you must stand up for yourself and protect what you've worked so hard for." personally, i told myself i'd throw in the towel if seunghan didn't return this spring. it's been so draining. but i don't think this is over yet. it really, really doesn't feel like it is. let's keep going.

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Pleasantries of 'Love' 18+ (Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader) Chapter 2 - Veiled Intentions

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m finally back with the long-awaited Chapter 2 of Pleasantries of 'Love’! I know it’s been a little while since my last update, and I want to thank each of you for your patience and support. I’m so excited for you all to read this chapter, and I truly hope it’s been worth the wait. Your kind comments and encouragement mean the world to me, and I’m so grateful for you all!

Also, just a heads up, Chapter 6 of Threads of Freedom will be uploaded in the next day or so! I can’t wait for you to see where the story goes next. I’m juggling both stories right now, but I promise I’m working hard to keep things moving along from now on.

Now, I’ve got a couple of polls coming your way! I’ve been thinking a lot about the age gap between Coriolanus and the reader, and I’d love to get your input on how big you think it should be. I’ve got a few ideas in mind, but I want to see what you all think! I’m also debating whether the reader should be 19 or 20 in this story, so there will be another poll for that as well. Lastly, since this chapter is nearly 9k words long, I’d love to hear what you think. Do you like the length, or would you prefer it to be shorter? Or a bit longer even?

Sorry if there’s a bit of a poll overload, haha! I’m just really eager to know your thoughts and get some feedback. Thanks again for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Word Count: 8.8k words Warnings: Power Imbalance, fixation, manipulation, obsession themes, social pressure, control, age gap, jealousy, gendered expectation, objectification, traditional expectations/views, coercion, unhealthy relationship dynamics (Coriolanus and Reader), eventual smut and eventual arranged marriage [Let me know if I missed any]

The quiet hum of the limousine filled the space between them, a soft vibration beneath her fingertips as she kept her hands neatly folded in her lap. Beyond the tinted windows, the Capitol glowed with golden light, its towering buildings standing tall against the dark sky. The streets below were still alive with movement, people wrapped in extravagant fabrics, laughing, sipping on sparkling drinks, indulging in the kind of luxury that never seemed to sleep. The world outside was grand, dazzling, overwhelming.

But inside the limousine, the air felt different. Quieter. Closer. Intimate.

Y/n sat with the perfect posture that could only be learnt by constant years of correction by her family, her hands clasped together gently, her eyes lowered ever so slightly. Even now, she could feel the warmth in her cheeks, the remnants of a flustered blush that refused to fade. The evening had been more than she could have ever imagined. The grandeur of the restaurant, the rich scent of roses woven into the air, the way President Snow’s attention had rested so fully on her. It had been unnerving, yet… oddly enchanting. And now, in the soft glow of the limousine’s interior, she was more aware of him than ever.

He sat beside her, poised and composed, exuding an effortless authority that made her stomach tighten with nerves. His presence was commanding, though he did nothing outright to demand attention, it simply followed him, clung to him like an unspoken rule that everyone obeyed. She swallowed, willing herself to stay calm, though the knowledge that they were alone made her heart flutter wildly in her chest.

The silence stretched until his voice, smooth, deliberate, and far too knowing, cut through it.

“It’s rare,” he mused, as if merely thinking aloud, “to find company that makes an evening feel… worthwhile.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. She turned her head slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, though the moment her eyes locked with his, she immediately wished she hadn’t. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on her, watching and studying her with his expression unreadable yet wholly consuming. A warmth crept up her neck, her fingers tightening slightly over the fabric of her dress.

“Oh,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her lashes fluttered as she quickly looked down, unable to hold his gaze for too long without feeling her heartbeat stutter. The weight of his attention was overwhelming, pressing against her like a velvet glove, soft yet suffocating. “That’s very kind of you to say, Mr. President.”

He didn’t respond right away. The pause was long enough that her nerves prickled with unease, and she hesitantly glanced up again, searching his face. His expression remained composed, but there was something unreadable in his gaze, something flickering just beneath the surface. For the briefest moment, she thought she saw the glint of something sharp, was it annoyance? Displeasure? But before she could be certain, it was gone, smoothed away like a wrinkle pressed from fine silk.

Then, smoothly, effortlessly, he corrected her once again that night.

“Coriolanus,” he murmured, the syllables drawn out with a quiet patience that made her breath hitch. “You know this, doll, I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”

Y/n blinked, startled by the sudden intimacy of his wording. Doll.

The word settled over her like a warm ribbon, curling around her spine, making her heel-covered toes press against the floor of the limousine as if grounding herself would stop the flustered heat creeping up her neck for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight. The way he said it, both low, deliberate, as though he were reminding her of something already established, sent a shiver down her back.

She knew she should correct herself, should apologise for the slip, but the word lingered between them, unchallenged. It felt strange, almost improper, but not in the way society would deem scandalous. It was improper because of how it made her feel. How it twisted something deep within her, something she didn’t quite understand or want to acknowledge yet.

Her fingers curled into the soft fabric of her dress, creasing it slightly. “I didn’t mean to forget, Mr President, I mean-” She stopped herself, cheeks burning brightly, utterly mortified at how flustered she sounded.

The corner of his mouth quirked as if entertained by her struggle. “You didn’t forget,” he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly, studying her. “You’re simply hesitant.”

She swallowed, her gaze dropping again. The name felt far too personal to use considering they hadn't known each other for that long, too bold for her to say aloud, even at the dinner, it felt odd to voice his name. After all, he was the President, a man of great power.  “I just… I don’t wish to be disrespectful to you.”

He hummed a quiet, knowing sound. “Disrespect?” His voice held a faint trace of amusement. “Doll, if I took offence to such things, do you think I’d be here with you now?”

She didn’t know how to respond to that. So she said nothing, only nodding slightly, hoping it would be enough to satisfy him.

But Coriolanus Snow was not a man who was easily satisfied, nor a man to back down.

He watched her for a moment longer, the corners of his lips barely tilting, not quite a smile, more of an acknowledgment, as if he had already anticipated her response. The way she folded into herself, so careful, so nervous, so impossibly sweet, it was almost endearing. Almost.

With an exhale, he spoke, staring down at her. “You’re overthinking, doll,” he said, his voice smooth, the kind of quiet authority that left no room for argument. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

She stiffened slightly at his words, her fingers curling tighter around the fabric of her dress. It wasn’t that she doubted him, of course, he had no obligation to be here, but the thought of it, the idea that he had willingly given her his time, that he had chosen her, bewildered her in ways she couldn’t explain.

“I-I know,” she murmured, but her voice lacked conviction.

He leaned back against the leather seat, the ambient glow of the Capitol’s skyline casting sharp shadows across his features. “Do you?” he mused, tilting his head just slightly in a form of mocking, but it washed right over her head. “Because you keep acting as though you don’t. As though I’m here out of obligation. That’s not the case.” His tone remained light, almost thoughtful, but there was something firm beneath it, something that sent a nervous tremor through her.

Y/n lowered her gaze, her fingers twisting together in her lap as she tried to steady the warmth creeping up her neck. She hadn’t meant to offend him and hadn’t even realised that her hesitance could be taken that way. But the idea of him choosing to be here, wanting to spend his evening with her, felt too grand to accept so easily.

“I didn’t mean to imply that,” she said softly, barely above a whisper. “I just…” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “It’s still… difficult to believe.”

A quiet hum left him contemplative. “Difficult to believe?” he repeated as if testing the phrase out himself. “And why is that?”

She shifted slightly in her seat. “Because you’re…” she trailed off, cheeks heating under his expectant gaze. Because you’re Coriolanus Snow. Because he was powerful and poised and impossible to ignore. Because men like him didn’t just choose to sit across from girls like her.

He arched a brow at her unfinished sentence. “I’m what, exactly?”

She swallowed, feeling foolish for even thinking it. “Important,” she finally said. “Busy. You have the entire country to run, and I’m just…” Her voice faltered, the weight of her own insecurities pressing down on her. “I don’t see what I could possibly ever offer in return for your time.”

For the first time, Coriolanus exhaled a quiet laugh, not mocking, but as if she had said something amusingly naive. His fingers tapped idly against his knee as he regarded her, his gaze unreadable.

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Darling.” His voice was smoother now, more deliberate. “You think time is something I give freely? That I waste it on people who have nothing to offer me?”

She stiffened, shaking her head quickly. “No, no, I definitely didn’t mean-”

He lifted a hand slightly, silencing her stumbling words immediately. “I don’t do things without reason,” he continued, his tone measured. “And I certainly don’t keep company unless I find it worthwhile.” His eyes never left hers, holding her there, forcing her to take in every word. “So stop questioning it.”

Y/n sucked in a quiet breath, nodding quickly. “Yes, sir,” she said instinctively, her voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitched-just slightly, just enough to tell her he had caught the slip. The moment stretched between them, thick with something she couldn’t name.

“Coriolanus,” he reminded her again, softening his tone this time.

She hesitated, then nodded again, forcing the name past her lips. “…Coriolanus.”

He looked satisfied with that, at least for now. “Better.” His gaze flickered toward the window as the limousine began to slow, signalling their arrival. “I trust you’ll remember that next time.”

She wasn’t sure if it was a command or a suggestion. But either way, she knew she wouldn’t forget.

For a few minutes, silence settled between them, save for the quiet hum of the limousine gliding through the city streets of Panem. Y/n turned her head toward the window, her eyes flitting across the dazzling display of lights that stretched endlessly into the night. The Capitol was breathtaking in its extravagance, golden chandeliers glowing through towering glass windows, illuminated fountains bubbling in the distance, streets lined with opulence at every turn. It felt almost otherworldly, a place crafted for spectacle and indulgence. She watched as a couple in lavish attire strolled along a grand avenue, their laughter light and carefree, so utterly at ease in a world she still struggled to comprehend. For a moment, she allowed herself to be distracted by it all, to lose herself in the shimmering beauty just beyond the glass.

“The Capitol will talk,” he murmured, breaking the silence once more, his tone almost absentminded, as if the thought did not bother him in the slightest. “A quiet young woman, seated across from me at dinner… they’ll be insatiable.”

As he spoke, Coriolanus shifted slightly in his seat, his long fingers moving with practised ease as he adjusted the crisp lapels of his suit. The subtle motion drew Y/n’s eyes downward before she could stop herself. Her gaze lingered for a moment too long, tracing the way the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders, the way his cufflinks gleamed under the soft lighting. Then, lower, to his hands where his veins stood out against his pale skin, the sharp, elegant lines of his knuckles, the smooth control with which he moved his fingers.

Heat crept up her neck before she even realised what was happening. She blinked, quickly looking away, pressing her hands together in her lap as if that might stop the sudden, flustered warmth pooling in her chest and banish the improper thoughts forming in the back of her mind.

Did he notice?

She swallowed hard, hoping the dim lighting inside the limousine might conceal the growing pink dusting her cheeks or the fact that she was eyeing up the President. But when she dared to glance upward, she wished she hadn’t, she found his gaze already on her, unreadable yet entirely knowing, like he had caught her staring and was merely waiting for her to acknowledge it herself. She parted her lips to speak, but not a single sound escaped, her throat tightening as she found herself ensnared by his piercing blue gaze. The weight of it made her squirm in her seat. His gaze was more unsettling than the cold air circulating through the limousine, yet it still made her heart flutter. His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, the kind that made her stomach twist. With deliberate ease, he finished adjusting his suit, his fingers brushing over the pristine fabric before his gaze dragged down the length of her, drinking her in just as she had done to him.

“You do realise,” he murmured, his voice rich with amusement, restating his previous comment with more vigour. “The Capitol will be talking soon enough. Their beloved president being seen with such... captivating company such as yourself.” He let the words settle between them before adding, almost lazily, “Though, given how openly you were admiring me, I’d say you won't mind the attention much.”

The words sent a ripple of unease through her. Of course, she knew how the Capitol worked. She had seen it before, how the slightest thing could turn into something far grander than itself, how people whispered and speculated and twisted stories into whatever they found most entertaining.

Her hands tightened in her lap, her voice small when she finally managed to speak. “I… I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

His chuckle was quiet and smooth with a hint of warmth. “That,” he said, tilting his head slightly in her direction, “My dear is far out of your hands now.”

Eventually, the limousine glided through the gates of her family’s estate, the sleek vehicle’s tyres smoothly passing over the road as they approached the grand manor, her home. The estate was bathed in the soft, golden light of the Capitol’s evening, the stone pillars of the manor’s exterior standing tall and imposing. The vehicle came to a stop at the front steps of her manor

Her gaze shifted toward the upper floor of the house, where, through the window, she saw a small figure partially hidden behind the curtains, a faint outline of her younger sister, barely visible but unmistakable in her attempt to sneak a peek at her arrival. Y/n couldn’t help but smile softly to herself. Even in the quiet of the night, her sister’s curiosity was evident, and the thought of her waiting up to hear about her evening filled Y/n with a sense of warmth.

Before she could linger on the thought, Coriolanus appeared in front of her and smoothly opened the door of the limousine, stepping out with the same practised ease as before. He extended his hand toward her, a gesture that seemed even more natural now, as though it were second nature for him. Y/n hesitated for only a moment before placing her hand in his, his touch cool but firm as he helped her out of the car.

The moment she stood on the ground, the night air felt cooler against her skin, but his presence seemed to absorb the chill. She glanced back up at her family’s grand manor as Coriolanus guided her toward the steps, the soft glow of light from her sister’s room still visible through the window. A flicker of movement caught her eye, her sister’s figure vanishing behind the curtain, no doubt excited to hear all the details of the evening.

With a gentle smile that graced her lips, Y/n turned her attention back to Coriolanus, allowing him to lead her up the front steps. The soft click of her heels on the stone echoed through the quiet night, and with each step, she felt herself inching closer to the threshold of her home.

Just as they reached the front door of her manor, Coriolanus’s hand brushed lightly against her wrist, grasping it in his hand, halting her in place beside him. Before she could question it, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat, withdrawing a single white rose, its petals pristine and delicate beneath the dim glow of the entrance lights. With a practised ease, he snapped the stem to a shorter length, then reached up, tucking it gently behind her ear.

"You wear beauty well, my dear," he murmured in her ear, his voice smooth, dangerously soft as he leaned in, his breath a whisper against her skin.

Y/n felt the warmth rise swiftly to her cheeks, her lips parting slightly, though no words came to her. Her heart fluttered in response, a nervous thrill weaving through her chest as she lowered her gaze shyly. By the time she gathered the courage to glance back up at him, Coriolanus had already straightened his posture, his expression composed, as though the moment had been nothing at all. Yet the faintest trace of a grin lingered on his lips as he reached for her hand, tugging her just a little closer to his side while they waited for the door to open.

Y/n's pulse quickened as they waited at the door, the quiet hum of the evening still hanging in the air. Coriolanus’s presence beside her seemed to fill the space, spreading a feeling of warmth through her, even as they paused in front of the large, ornate door to the manor. Before Y/n could even turn the handle, the door swung open with a soft creak, revealing her mother standing eagerly on the other side.

Her mother’s eyes lit up as she took in the sight of her daughter, her face flushed with excitement from the evening’s events. "Y/N, my dear! You're home, darling," she exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth and enthusiasm. Her hands fluttered to her chest as if in awe of the occasion. "And… Mr. President! It’s an honour to have you at our doorstep once again!"

Y/n's heart fluttered uncomfortably at the mention of the title. But before she could form a response, her mother took a quick step forward, offering a welcoming smile. "Would you care to come inside, Mr. Snow? We’d be honoured to have you."

Coriolanus, ever the composed gentleman, shook his head with a soft smile that never quite reached his eyes. "I appreciate the invitation, Mrs. Y/l/n, but I must decline. I have already overstayed my welcome, perhaps next time." His voice was smooth, polite, with a touch of finality, as if he were accustomed to the boundaries of such social pleasantries. His eyes briefly flickered toward Y/n, and a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Goodnight, Chevy," he said, turning toward her with an air of quiet intensity. "It was a pleasure to spend the evening with you."

As he spoke her name, he leaned in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against her ear. "I’ll be looking forward to our next encounter," he whispered, his tone low and enticing, though no one would have guessed the subtle weight behind it. His words were like a secret promise, making her skin flush as she tried to steady herself in front of her family.

Y/n nodded numbly, her heart racing, her pulse a beat too fast as she felt herself drawn to him in ways she didn’t fully understand. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his cool, calculating blue eyes, and despite his courteous manners, there was a sense of ownership in his presence that unsettled and thrilled her at the same time.

Before she could respond, her mother gave a small, disappointed sigh but quickly hid it behind another joyous smile. "Very well, then. Thank you for escorting my daughter home, Mr. Snow. You’re always welcome here."

Y/n could feel her father’s more composed presence behind them in the hallway, his posture straight as he observed the interaction with a quiet intensity, not too eager for the closeness of his daughter and the young president before him. His gaze flickered between his wife’s excited expression and Coriolanus's dignified manners, a subtle hint of wariness beneath his calm demeanour.

From around the corner of the staircase, her younger sister peeked her head out, her wide eyes gleaming with curiosity as she caught sight of the scene. It was clear she had been trying to stay in bed, but the thrill of seeing Coriolanus Snow at their doorstep had been too much for her to resist. Y/n couldn’t help but smile inwardly at her sister’s eagerness.

Coriolanus, still standing by the front steps, gave a small, sly nod to Y/n’s sister, offering a courteous smile, though it was fleeting. "Goodnight," he said simply, before turning on his heel with the same quiet elegance with which he followed him like a shadow.

Y/n stood there for a long moment, watching as he climbed back into the limousine, the door closing with a soft click behind him. The vehicle pulled away into the night, leaving her standing in the warm light of the doorway, her heart pounding in her chest.

Inside the house, her mother immediately rushed to Y/n’s side, eager to hear every detail of the evening, but Y/n’s mind was elsewhere on the whispered words, on the way he’d looked at her, and the way his presence had lingered long after he’d left like a blanket on a frosty winter night.

And she couldn’t help but feel helplessly drawn to him, even as a part of her instinctively whispered that the path ahead was more complicated than she could imagine.

Inside, the warmth of the manor enveloped her, a stark contrast to the cool night air. Her mother and younger sister were already waiting in the sitting room, their faces alight with anticipation.

 “Tell us everything.” Her mother breathed, taking in the sight of her with barely contained excitement. 

Her younger sister had dropped the act of being sneaky and bounded over to her eldest sister, bouncing on her feet. “Was he charming? He must’ve been. And what is that?” She gasped. “Is that a rose?”

Y/n’s cheeks burned as she reached up, fingers brushing the delicate petals. “He… gave it to me before he left,” she admitted quietly.

The reaction was immediate.

Her mother clasped her hands together in delight, while her sister squealed, grabbing her hands and dragging her toward the settee. “It’s like something out of a storybook!”

Y/n allowed herself a soft laugh, though she kept her words measured as she recounted the evening about how grand the restaurant had been, how exquisite the meal was, and how he had spoken to her in a way that felt both unnerving and strangely flattering. She left out the moments that had truly unsettled her, the way his gaze had lingered a little too long for comfort, the subtle weight of his words.

Across the room, her father stood by the doorway, silent.

Unlike the others, he did not gush or pry. His expression was unreadable, though Y/n could see the hesitation in his eyes, the wariness of a man who had spent his life understanding the power of people like Snow.

“A man like him…” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm, “does not give his time lightly.” He met her gaze, his eyes filled with something deeper than mere concern. “Just be cautious, sweetheart.”

Y/n smiled softly and shook her head in disbelief at his comment, but she nodded in agreement nonetheless. “I will, Father.” She took his comment with a grain of salt, far too excited to understand her father's implications.

Her father lingered for only a moment more before turning away, leaving the three of them to their giddy excitement that lingered far on into the night.

-Three days later- The Capitol was already ablaze with whispers.

It started subtly with an elegant picture in one of the glossy publications, taken slyly as Snow had escorted her both to and from the restaurant. Soon, there were murmurs in the boutiques, hushed conversations in high-end cafés, and, inevitably, bold headlines speculating what her presence at his side meant.

Was this a political alliance? A new darling of the Capitol? Or something more?

Y/n caught the whispers everywhere, and with each passing day, her name seemed more entwined with Coriolanus Snow’s. It was a dizzying but intoxicating experience, like stepping into a dream spun from silk and starlight. Every glance, every conversation they had shared, every lingering mention of her name alongside his felt surreal, an impossible fantasy woven into reality.

The world around her seemed to shift, its edges softened by the warmth of whispered admiration and envious sighs. She was no longer just Y/n Y/l/n, she was the young woman who had captured the President’s attention and possibly his heart.

And despite the uncertainty, despite the way her heart fluttered with nerves whenever she thought of him, there was something undeniably thrilling about it. It was a bliss, unlike anything she had ever known, a secret kind of joy that set her soul alight, flooding her system as if she had been swept into the pages of a story far grander than she could have ever imagined.

Her family viewed it as the highest honour possible. Her mother beamed with pride constantly, and her sister gushed endlessly to her school friends about her eldest sister and the president, and even her father, though he was still wary of the young man he still acknowledged that she had done something no one else had: captured the attention of the most powerful man in Panem and that was not to be taken lightly.

Later that day, Y/n found herself stepping through the glass doors of a charming little tea lounge with Clara and Rose at her side. The boutique-style café was nestled neatly between two glittering storefronts, a luxurious milliner’s shop displaying elegant feathered hats in its windows and a jewellery boutique where diamonds caught the sunlight like tiny stars. The scent of fresh pastries and steeped tea drifted out as the trio entered, their heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor.

The cafe itself was warm, pastel and bright, with sunlight streaming through tall windows draped in sheer white curtains. The tables were delicate things, small and round with intricate lace cloths, and every setting had its own porcelain teacup, hand-painted with tiny pastel flowers. Crystal vases filled with soft pink peonies and creamy white roses sat atop each table, adding to the airy, romantic feel of the place.

Y/n, Clara, and Rose found a table tucked near one of the windows, giving them a perfect view of the bustling street beyond. They sank into the plush velvet chairs with a happy sigh, already giddy from the prettiness of it all. A waitress dressed smartly in a black dress with a crisp white apron appeared with a small leather menu, offering them a kind smile before leaving them to look.

The menu was delicate and refined, offering things like lavender scones, rosewater macarons, and artfully arranged finger sandwiches. Y/n ran her fingertips lightly over the gold-embossed lettering before glancing up at her friends, their faces practically glowing with excitement.

Across from her sat Clara and Rose, who were positively brimming with energy. Clara, with her warm brown eyes sparkling beneath faintly wavy chestnut hair, and Rose, with her riot of ginger curls and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose that only seemed to stand out more under the golden afternoon sun.

They each picked something light, a shared tower of assorted pastries and delicate tea served in a tall glass pot. As they placed their order, Y/n felt the faint, nervous flutter in her stomach again, sensing that their conversation was about to turn, inevitably, to him.

And she was right.

"I still can't believe it," Rose gushed first, unable to contain herself. She leaned forward, her elbows on the lace-draped table despite the disapproving glance of a nearby server. Her blue eyes were wide with excitement. "You dined with President Snow! Y/n, you sly young lady!"

Clara giggled, a musical sound, reaching across the table to lightly squeeze Y/n’s hand. "And not just dined, you were escorted by him. That’s not something he does for just anyone, you know." She grinned, practically bouncing in her seat.

Y/n flushed, feeling the warmth rise in her cheeks as she quickly looked down, stirring her tea to keep herself busy under their intense, affectionate stares. "It wasn’t it wasn’t like that," she protested softly, though even to her own ears, the words sounded flimsy and unsure. How could she explain the strange, magnetic pull he seemed to have, the way he looked at her like she was something rare, something meant to be treasured and kept close?

Rose clutched her chest dramatically, making Clara laugh harder. "If it wasn’t like that, why do you look like you're about to float out of that very chair, hmm?"

Y/n ducked her head, hiding her flustered smile behind the rim of her delicate teacup. Her fingers fidgeted slightly against the porcelain, the soft clink of her spoon giving her away. "Really, it’s nothing," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper as she stirred her tea, needlessly adding a small bit of extra sugar to her already sweet cup of tea and stirring it once more.

Desperate to escape the topic, she cleared her throat softly and glanced toward the window. "Did you see the new window display at the boutique next door? I heard they just got a shipment from the Capitol's spring collection-"

But Clara and Rose were having none of it.

"Oh no, you’re not getting away that easily," Clara said with a mischievous grin, leaning in even closer. "Exactly," Rose added, tossing a wild ginger curl over her shoulder with a sparkle in her freckled cheeks. "Spring dresses can wait. We need every single detail."

Y/n’s heart fluttered helplessly as she sunk a little deeper into her seat, the gentle laughter of her friends wrapping around her like the soft sunlight filling the room. It was hopeless and, secretly, she didn't mind one bit.

Clara smirked behind her teacup, exchanging a knowing look with Rose that made Y/n instantly wary. "You know you’ve been smiling the entire time, right?" Clara teased, setting her cup down with a faint clink. "You never smile this much unless it’s something or someone special."

"I have not!" Y/n protested, though the heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her the moment the words left her mouth. “And I always smile, it's good manners.” She defended weekly.

Rose let out a delighted little laugh, covering her mouth with her hand like she was trying to be discreet but failing miserably. "You have, and it's adorable! You're practically glowing, Y/n. It’s like something out of one of those fancy Capitol romance dramas."

Before Y/n could even attempt to scramble for a proper defence, the soft jingle of the door caught their attention. A young mother strolled into the tea lounge, gently pushing a polished white stroller adorned with delicate gold trim. Inside, a chubby baby kicked its little feet, gurgling happily under a pale blue blanket. The sight was so sweet that Y/n couldn’t help but glance over, her heart squeezing with a wistful tenderness.

The baby’s large, innocent eyes blinked up at Y/n, and for a moment, their gazes locked. The child’s wide eyes seemed so curious, so trusting, and without thinking, Y/n found herself smiling softly at the little one, her features softening as well. The baby, almost as if sensing her warmth, gurgled and cooed, a playful giggle escaping as it wriggled its fingers towards her. Y/n couldn’t help but lean forward slightly in her seat, her lips curling into a gentle smile as she caught the child’s gaze.

A flutter of warmth spread through her chest at the simplicity of it, a moment of pure, untainted joy that made her momentarily forget the whirlwind that had come with her association with Coriolanus Snow. She felt the smile tug deeper on her face, her expression softening as she continued to watch the baby, lost in the quiet innocence of the scene before her.

She was still smiling when the mother looked over and caught her eye, giving her a knowing nod of acknowledgment and a sweet smile. Y/n quickly snapped back to the conversation, a flush of embarrassment creeping over her face, though the soft tug of that emotion lingered within her.

And, unfortunately, Rose noticed.

"Oh, look at that," Rose said slyly, nudging Clara with her elbow and casting a meaningful glance at the stroller. "You’d be such a sweet mother, Y/n. Just picture it, a little one with your perfect hair and those pretty eyes."

"And maybe," Clara added smoothly, her voice dripping with mischief, "hair a few shades lighter perhaps. White, almost. And the sharpest blue eyes anyone's ever seen. Wonder where that would come from? Features only for a Snow baby, isn’t that right, Y/n?" Her brown eyes gleamed as she leaned in a little, the teasing note in her voice impossible to miss.

Y/n nearly dropped her spoon, sputtering as she tried to settle them down. "Stop it," she hissed under her breath, glancing around frantically. A few patrons were already glancing curiously in their direction, their elegantly plucked brows raised in amusement. Y/n leaned in over the table, lowering her voice. "You two are being ridiculous. We’ve only been out once for dinner! Once. You’re getting way ahead of yourselves."

Rose waved her hand airily as if to dismiss Y/n’s concern. "Pff. Once is all it takes with a man like that."

Rose nodded eagerly, a wicked glint in her blue eyes as she picked up right where Clara left off. "Exactly! Did you see the way he was looking at you in that photo outside the restaurant? Honestly, Y/n, it didn’t look like he was thinking about dinner at all." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a playful whisper. "He looked like he wanted to scoop you up right then and there and take you straight back to that big, fancy presidential penthouse of his instead.”

"Clara! Rose! That's enough!" Y/n gasped, nearly tipping her tea over in her panic. She cast another nervous glance at the nearby tables, cheeks burning hotter than ever. "Honestly, you both are impossible."

Still, even as she tried to shush them and steer the conversation toward safer, less scandalous waters, a tiny, secret part of her clung to the image her friends had so carelessly painted. It drifted through her mind like a sweet, fleeting dream, a peaceful afternoon in a garden bathed in sunlight and warmth, the air filled with the scent of blooming flowers.

In this vision, a little hand, small and soft, reached up for hers, fingers curling around hers with trust and innocence. The sound of children's laughter would echo around them, filling the air with lightness and joy. And in this quiet, tender moment, a pair of blue eyes startlingly similar to Coriolanus Snow’s would gaze up at her, full of innocent wonder and adoration.

Her breath caught at the thought, and her heart fluttered, though she immediately scolded herself. It was foolish, she knew that. Utterly, hopelessly foolish. But no matter how hard she tried to push it away, the thought lingered in the corners of her mind, warm and persistent like a seed buried deep in her chest, waiting to grow.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with excited chatter and giddy theories about what could come next. Clara and Rose bounced ideas off each other, their imaginations running wild with possibilities. Maybe there would be an invitation to a lavish Capitol ball, where Y/n could twirl in a gorgeous gown beneath the glittering chandeliers. Or perhaps, they mused with knowing smiles, something more official, an invitation to an event at the Presidential Palace itself, where Y/n would stand beside Coriolanus Snow as if she were already a fixture at his side.

Y/n laughed along with them, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of their enthusiasm. Their excitement was infectious, and for a brief moment, Y/n felt like she was caught in a dream, wrapped in the cozy comfort of her friends' affections. It felt so sweet, so innocent, a stark contrast to the weight of the world pressing in around her.

The delicate chime of the tea lounge door sounded behind them as Y/n, Clara, and Rose stepped back into the afternoon sunlight. The city’s golden glow bathed the storefronts, glinting off polished windows and the intricate designs of the boutiques that lined the street. Laughter still bubbled between the three girls, their arms linked and their hearts light.

But as they rounded the corner past the tea lounge, the cheerful warmth dulled slightly. Parked just outside the boutique next door, a glittering hat and jewellery shop famous for catering to Capitol socialites, stood a small cluster of young women, each draped in designer silks and sharp smiles. Their conversation slowed to a murmur when they caught sight of Y/n.

It wasn't loud, nor obvious, but it didn’t need to be.

Their glances were practised and cutting, their eyes sliding from Y/n’s simple dress to the soft flush in her cheeks. One of them, tall with an angular frame and sleek blond hair pinned perfectly back, tilted her head and whispered something behind a manicured hand, prompting the others to titter behind her. They pretended to admire a row of jewel-encrusted combs in the display window, but their gazes kept flitting back to Y/n with poorly concealed disdain.

At the centre of the group, however, stood Livia Cardew.

Her presence was unmistakable. She wore a tailored designer dress, the pearl white fabric hugging her figure and ending just at her knees, with delicate pearl beading tracing the hem and sleeves. A pair of slender white gloves clutched a small jewelled handbag at her side as though it were an outlet to her bubbling rage. Her dirty blonde hair, always styled with meticulous care, was swept into a soft, elegant twist at the nape of her neck, held in place by a gleaming silver comb. She looked every inch the polished Capitol socialite, perfect, poised, and utterly ruthless. Livia wore a smile too polished to be kind. Her eyes, a cold and calculating shade of blue, locked onto Y/n with a look that made the hairs at the back of her neck prickle.

Livia didn’t need to say a word; her expression said enough.

​​She had been chasing after Coriolanus Snow for years now, ever since he had first begun his steady, dazzling climb through the Capitol’s ranks with ruthless brilliance. Livia had been a constant presence at every glittering function, every political gala, every whispered gathering where his power and presence hung thick in the air. She had constantly lingered on the edges of his world, offering carefully calculated smiles, rehearsed laughter, and endless opportunities for him to notice her. Always circling, always waiting like a hawk hovering over its prey, patient and sharp-eyed.

And now, here was Y/n.

A younger girl from a respected, prosperous family. A girl who hadn’t clawed or postured her way through the Capitol’s treacherous social circles, but had instead been gently, almost effortlessly welcomed. A girl who, with one dinner and a few stolen photographs, had already succeeded where Livia had failed.

It stung. It burned. It was a humiliation wrapped in silk and pearls, one that Livia could hardly mask behind her brittle smile.

Y/n, sensing the weight of those eyes on her, straightened her shoulders instinctively, refusing to wilt beneath their scrutiny. Her heart hammered against her ribs with traitorous force, but she kept her chin high, her expression calm, willing herself not to betray the flurry of nerves twisting inside her.

"Ignore them," Clara whispered at her side with a reassuring smile, giving her hand a subtle, grounding squeeze.

"You’re glowing," Rose added with a wink, leaning in conspiratorially. "Let them stare."

Y/n bit back a shy laugh, letting herself be swept forward by her friends. They crossed the cobbled street together, leaving the bitter glances behind. The air shifted almost immediately as they stepped into the Capitol’s famous flower park, where blooms of every colour stretched out like a living painting. 

The moment Y/n, Clara, and Rose crossed the busy street, it felt as if they had stepped into another world entirely. The Capitol’s famous flower park stretched out before them, a masterpiece of colours and scents so rich it almost overwhelmed the senses. Every inch of the park was in meticulous care; the trimmed hedges were sculpted into graceful shapes, and the beds of flowers were arranged in elaborate, artistic patterns, like vibrant tapestries woven into the earth itself.

Marble fountains tinkled merrily from the centre of the walkways, each one adorned with statues of mythic figures cradling baskets overflowing with blossoms. The air was heady with the perfume of jasmine, gardenias, and, of course, countless varieties of roses, some traditional deep crimson, others rare shades of gold, lavender, and even a dazzling ice blue that sparkled faintly in the sunlight.

The girls fell into an easy pace, strolling beneath towering trellises dripping with sweet-smelling wisteria and wide oaks hung with delicate ribbons of moss. The light filtered through the leaves in golden patches, scattering across their dresses and hair as if blessing them with little kisses of sunshine.

Y/n found herself breathing easier here, her earlier tension dissolving into the peaceful beauty of their surroundings. Clara and Rose, however, hadn’t let up on their playful teasing.

Every time they passed a rose bush, which, given the park’s adoration for the flower, was often, Rose would make a little dramatic sigh, clasp her hands to her heart, and shoot Y/n a knowing look.

“Oh no, Y/n," Rose said theatrically, pausing in front of a bush of creamy white roses, their petals pristine and glowing in the afternoon sun. "Do you think he personally planted these for you? A whole park in your honour, perhaps?"

Clara snorted, reaching out to gently pluck a single fallen petal from the path. She held it up like a piece of evidence. “Mark my words," she said with a mischievous glint in her chestnut brown eyes, "one day you’re going to be walking through a garden just like this, only it'll be at his manor."

Y/n could only groan, cheeks warming despite herself. She tried to hide her smile by pretending to be absorbed in the little white daisies peeking up from a nearby bed, but her friends were merciless.

Rose flashed a sly grin, her arm slipping through Y/n’s as she leaned in. “Come on, don’t play coy with us," she teased, her eyes sparkling. "You’re practically glowing. If you smile any more, they’ll think you’re part of the garden decor.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she shook her head. “You two are impossible," she said with an affectionate sigh.

But even as she scolded them, there was a tiny, secret flutter inside her chest at the thought. The image of wandering through a private garden, a hidden place of peace far away from the polished coldness of the Capitol, lingered at the back of her mind more stubbornly than she would ever like to admit.

They wandered for what felt like hours, meandering down winding pathways, stopping to admire the extravagant displays of lilies, orchids, and peonies that looked almost too perfect to be real. Laughter followed them wherever they went, blending easily with the soft rustle of petals in the breeze and the distant splash of the fountains.

-Timeskip later that night-

In the quiet of her bedroom, the soft glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, casting delicate shadows across the room. The night was calm, the kind of stillness that seemed to settle deeply into her bones as the world outside her window grew darker. Y/n sat at her vanity, the familiar scent of vanilla from the candles mingling with the faint floral fragrance of the rose she had placed there earlier.

The white rose, still pristine and lively despite the passing few days since the night she had received it from President Snow, stood tall in the crystal vase, a special gift from her mother, an elegant heirloom that had been passed down through the generations. It was almost as if the rose mirrored the evening itself: delicate, pristine, bright but with a subtle strength that was hard to ignore. Y/n’s fingers lightly brushed the smooth glass of the vase as she stared at the rose, her reflection staring back at her in the mirror, her thoughts distant and far away.

She couldn’t help but remember how Coriolanus had snapped the flower from its stem and tucked it behind her ear with a gentleness that bestowed his usual authoritative persona. The warmth of the memory lingered, tugging at her heartstrings, making her pulse race all over again. The way he had looked at her, the way he’d made her feel so...noticed, so seen in a way she’d never experienced before, would be something she would never forget. But it wasn’t just the gesture itself; it was everything that came along with it, the quiet weight of his presence, the things unsaid that seemed to hang in the air between them back in the limo.

After a few moments of lingering over the rose, she sighed, a mixture of longing and confusion in her chest. The world felt heavy with possibility, with the swirling, intoxicating feeling of something new, something unexpected. But just as quickly, she pulled herself away from the thought, shaking her head lightly. Stop overthinking, she told herself, standing up from her vanity to slip into her nightgown and blow out the candles.

Her room was serene, the soft rustling of the sheets and the faint hum of the world outside her window providing the only sound. As she moved toward her bed, she glanced back one last time at the rose, her heart a little lighter, but still full of the strange warmth Coriolanus’s presence had left behind like a stain she couldn’t quite scrub away or a pin lodged deep in her side, not painful, but always present a reminder that something had shifted in her, and there was no going back

With a sigh, she climbed into bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin, lying on her side. The evening had been filled with laughter and teasing from her friends, but now, in the quiet of her room, her thoughts circled back to him, that faint smile that would tung at his lips, his constant gaze upon her, and the way he seemed to promise in his own words that this was just the beginning of something much bigger.

Coriolanus’s Pov: 

The office was a masterpiece of wealth and power, polished floors gleaming beneath the soft glow of golden light fixtures, casting an ambient warmth over the dark mahogany bookshelves lining the walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the glittering expanse of the Capitol, the city stretching out below him like a kingdom bowed at his feet.

A decanter of aged whiskey sat untouched on the sleek, ebony desk, beside it was a neat stack of documents. Every detail of the room was curated to reflect what he had built, what he had become and what he had accomplished. Behind where he was seated was a large, detailed self-portrait of himself, one which was done by the finest of the artists in Panem, after all, he only accepted the best.

Coriolanus leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers as his gaze drifted over the cityscape. It had been only a few days since that first evening when he had taken Y/n to dinner, and already her name had begun to echo through the halls of the Capitol, being tied to his own like a drop of poison dissolving seamlessly into wine undetectable, inevitable, and wholly in his control. The whispers were growing louder, threads of speculation weaving an intricate narrative of admiration, curiosity, and, most importantly, inevitability. It was all coming together.

He allowed himself a small, measured smile. Y/n was different from the others, not because she was exceptional in any way that truly mattered to him, but because she was perfectly suited for what he needed. A well-mannered, demure young woman with an impeccable reputation, untouched by scandal, intimacy or controversy. She was graceful, obedient in the way that mattered most, and perhaps most importantly, pliable and naive.

It was a slow, deliberate game, and Coriolanus had all the time in the world. He had learned the bitter lessons from his past, lessons he would never speak of, never acknowledge aloud, but they were there, etched deep in the fabric of his mind. Lucy Gray had been a mistake, a reckless distraction that had slipped through his fingers like sand, taunting him with her unpredictability. She had been everything he despised: untamed, free-spirited, and impossible to control. Her wildness had burned in him, but it had also shattered his carefully constructed illusions of power. Her absence had haunted him in ways he could never admit, a jagged reminder of how fragile even his control could be.

Y/n, however, was different. She was like a delicate thread that he could easily pull taut, weaving her into a pattern that suited him. There was no fire in her, no spark of rebellion that could threaten to undo everything he had worked so carefully to build. She was quiet, compliant, just the way he liked them. He would not make the same mistake twice. Y/n would not slip from his grasp like Lucy Gray had. She would not vanish into the shadows, leaving him with nothing but bitter regret. No, this time, he would shape her, mould her into what he needed. And she would never even realise it was happening.

She was already falling, he could see it in the subtle way her eyes softened whenever she looked at him, how her gaze lingered just a moment too long, as though she could almost convince herself that it was normal to feel the heat of his presence in her chest. It was in the quiet, hesitant tremor of her voice when she said his name, that little quiver that betrayed her nerves, yet the unspoken trust that lingered in her words as she talked about her family back at the dinner a few days ago, as though he didn't have a clue.

Speaking as though he didn’t already know everything there was to know about them from her parents, to her little sister, and the little details she thought she was offering him out of vulnerability. They were just more pieces of the puzzle he had already neatly assembled in his mind.

There was doubt, of course, he could see it in the careful way she still measured her steps around him. But beneath that, beneath the fear of the unknown, there was something more fragile, more malleable: a growing affection, a budding devotion that she hadn’t even realised was beginning to take root.

It was all so painfully naive. She still believed that this was innocent, that it was simply the natural progression of their encounters. She didn’t see the strings he had already begun to weave around her, delicate but unbreakable. Her cautiousness was only a thin veil, a fleeting hesitation that would eventually melt away like dew under the sun. She was still so unsure of herself, still so uncertain, yet with every passing moment, she was unknowingly falling deeper into the snare he had set. He didn’t need to rush. Time was on his side. And with each carefully placed word, each interaction, her barriers would crumble, piece by piece, until she no longer questioned her place by his side.

Her hesitations would become whispers, silent and insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Soon, she would not just want to be there. She would need to be there, beside him, in the place he would carve out for her, her world slowly folding into his. She wouldn’t even know how it happened. But by the time she realised it, it would be too late. She would belong to him, heart and soul, without a second thought.

Coriolanus exhaled slowly, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watched the red rose he had taken from the vase on his desk. His fingers wrapped tightly around the delicate stem, the petals soft and fragile beneath his touch. He twisted it slowly, the stem snapping under the pressure, as if the flower itself were a mere symbol, a reflection of the fragile hold he had over her. It was nothing more than an illusion, something to keep up appearances, to distract from the truth. She was already his, she just didn’t know it yet.

He would not make the same mistake again.

[cpericardium]

Compilation of Megafire's Wildbow Essays (Imported)

I haven't read all of them myself, but the few I did were always worthwhile and interesting, so I thought I'd index them here for anyone who hasn't heard of them or checked them out. As I recall, these were written by Megafire as the chapters were coming out.

CHARACTERIZATION OF CAROL IN WARD

REDDIT INDEX

Chapter 3.6 

The Warden's HQ, or, Playing With Time

Chapter 4.6 

Natalie, or, Working Through Proxies

Chapter 5.9 

Power Dynamics, or, Why Carol Love(s/d) Mark

Chapter 6.3 

Trust, Safety and Control, or, General Opinion

Chapter 7.4 

A Glimmer of Hope, or, Victoria and Carol have an Actual Conversation!?

Chapter 8.2 

Meeting the Parents, or, Never mind, Carol is Back to Being Carol

Chapter 8.9 

Baby Steps, or, Carol Manages to Respect Boundaries for Once

Chapter 9.12-9.13 

Bonus Damsel Interlude, or, This Will Pay Off Later, I Promise

Chapter 10.1 

The Diner, or, I Yell a Lot

Chapter 10.y 

Bonus Chris Interlude, or, This Has Nothing to Do With Carol, I Just Really Like This One

Chapter 12.1 

Ruminating on New Wave, or, Why Mark Loves Carol

Chapter 12.2 

Carol vs Damsel, or, I Told You It'd Pay Off

Chapter 12.f 

Ryan and Cradle, or, What It Means to be Good, and, Competing Access Needs, or, Why the Dream Room is the Worst

Chapter 12.9 

The Bubble, or, Making You Feel Even Worse About Carol Getting Hurt

Chapter 14.5 

The Greenhouse, or, Carol Brought Low

Chapter 14.6 (Sort of) 

Drawing Similarities, or, What's Left for Carol

Chapter 14.7 

Chris' Crossroads, or, Screw It, I Guess I'm Talking About Chris Too Now

Chapters 14.9 + 14.10 

Her Mother's Daughter, or, What Amy Learned From Carol

Chapter 14.12 

Piecing Together Chris, or, What Do Monsters Mean?

Chapter 15.7 

Slaves to Fate, or, Predictions and Responsibility

Also Chapter 15.7 

Ultimate Agency, or, Who Is Contessa?

Chapter 16.4 

Mockeries and Funhouse Mirrors, or, Paths Not Taken

Chapter 16.y 

Attempted Therapy, or, Amy Is Not Doing Well

Chapter 17.1 

Family Issues, or, Confrontations Vis-a-Vis Parentage

Chapter 19.1 

The Curious Case of Sarah Pelham, or, A Basic Overview of the Shit That Happened to Sarah

Chapter 19.9-19.10 

The Talk, or, How To Screw Up Your Kids In One Easy Conversation

Chapter 20.e6 

Carol: Final, or, What Has Carol Learned? (Hint: Not Much)

---

PALE ANALYSIS

REDDIT INDEX

Verona and her Dad, a Transactional analysis

Why Verona's Dad is a Literal Manchild - mostly about Out on a Limb 3.1, but with references to 3.4

Adults, Parents and Children

Lucy is Verona's Only Good Parental Figure (and That's Kind Of Sad) - Leaving a Mark 4.2

Pale: Justice

The Cast Of Law And Order: Kennet - Cutting Class 6.z

Practitioner Supremacy

Boy There Are Some Real World Parallels Here - Gone Ahead 7.1

Practitioner Parenting

Regular Old Bad Parenting - Vanishing Points 8.4

Abuse

Brett is an Absolute Bastard - Shaking Hands 9.9

Avery's Games and Gimmicks

Breaking Patterns Is Hard - Dash to Pieces 11.10

Transgressive Acts

Why the Mussers are like the Spartans - Break 5

Practitioners and Others, a Binary

The Binary is a Lie! - Gone and Done It 17.x

Judging the Judiciary

What About the Judges? - Crossed With Silver 19.z

Hostile Environment

Power Plays for the Future - In Absentia 21.12

[ikeoji-subs]

Zettai BL Ni Naru Sekai VS Zettai BL Ni Naritakunai Otoko 2024 - Episode 5 Eng Sub

VS THE START OF A ROMANCE and VS HELPING

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translation notes:

About “naresome”

As tends to happen when translating Japanese, this is one of those words that don’t exist in English. Its literal translation is “the start of a romance.” So, while we’ve chosen to translate it as “get together,” it would be more accurate to give a more extensive explanation. It is a noun that specifically refers to the moment that love begins. So when we’re talking about “naresome” we’re talking about the thing or situation that triggered the romantic relationship or romantic feelings.–Snow

about casting Tominaga Yuya as a guy who gets busy when it rains

I think this is another tokusatsu Easter egg. Tominaga Yuya, who plays Jouji in the “Vs. The Start of a Relationship” chapter, was also on Avataro Sentai DonBrothers, a Super Sentai series that ran from 2022 to 2023. His character, Sonoi, was the agent of a culture from another plane of existence whose members feed off of the brainwaves of human beings. At first, he and his associates Sonoza and Sononi were enemies of the DonBrothers, but they eventually joined forces with the Sentai. A big reason this happened was that Sonoi had a special connection to the leader of the DonBrothers, Momoi Tarou. Their relationship reads as pretty darned queer to a lot of viewers, myself included.

Momoi Tarou and Sonoi bonding, before they found out they were nemeses

Many JBL fans know Higuchi Kouhei from My Personal Weatherman/Taikan Yoho, in which he played the titular meteorologist, Segasaki. Part of the premise of that series is that at the start of the story, Higuchi’s character only has sex with his partner on sunny days. Jouji, Tominaga’s Zettai BL character, does the opposite: he and his “sex friend” only do it on rainy days. 

Basically, the writers of Zettai BL 3 have made Higuchi’s toku boyfriend’s story into a reverse Taikan Yoho situation. What are the odds that’s just a coincidence?–Towel

Also, he gets his own “Zettai BL” title card moment (and he’s the only one out of the secondary cast who get to have that).–Snow

That’s right!

I’m going to put this in context a little because I’ve given a lot of thought (probably too much) to who’s been featured in the opening credits of the different Zettai BL seasons. For every season of the show so far, Inukai Atsuhiro has had four other actors perform with him in the opening theme dance number. (All of whom also get a crack at some of those title card moments.) For two seasons, three of the four spots were taken up by Yutaro (Ayato), Shiono Akihisa (Toujou), and Itou Asahi (Kikuchi). The fourth spot was taken up by different actors in the first two seasons. It was the guy who played the attractive dude from the goukon in the first season, and it was Izuka Kenta, who played Kikuchi’s ex Igarashi, in the second. 

This time around, I had hoped that Sekoguchi Ryo would take the fourth spot, because he’s my blorbo and of course I wanted to see him in a retro dance number (boy was that wish ever granted!). But I hadn’t expected Shiono not to appear this time. Maybe there were specific reasons for this, like a scheduling conflict or an injury. It’s not like Shiono appears less in season 3 than he did in the others, so that’s not the reason. It’s hard to say. But in that context, it seems even more significant that they gave a spot to Tominaga Yuya. We don’t know the reasons for this. But it’s possible they featured him more heavily in this way because of his tokusatsu backstory and the inside joke it allowed them to make.–Towel

about “pudding relationship” and “prince and princess”

This part was tricky to translate. As you might have noticed by this point, Mob likes to make puns. In Japanese, pudding is written as “purin” and it is used to refer to pudding as well as custard. Mob goes on to follow with “prince and princess”, which in Japanese are pronounced as “purinsu” and “purinsesu”. In here, there’s wordplay with these similar sounding words and the image of the ToujouAyato couple.–Snow  

about “cuteness overload”

Japanese is a language that uses a lot of onomatopoeia. There’s 4 types, iirc: animal sounds, object sounds (like rain, creaking and the like), things that don’t make noise (smiles, stares, silence, etc), verbs turned onomatopoeia (I unfortunately cannot remember this properly but it was something like that). In this case, Mob says “Kyun ga tomaranai” (which literally means “the kyun can’t be stopped”). “Kyun” is an onomatopoeic word to refer to a “momentary tightening of one's chest caused by powerful feelings,” usually tied to a romantic context but not exclusively. Taking this into account, we thought “cuteness overload” might be the closest expression in English.–Snow

It’s worth noting that Mob is also saying “kyun” right after the “cuteness overload” line. I really thought at first that he was saying “cute,” since it sounds so similar, it would make a lot of sense contextually, and English loan words are so common in Japanese. But no, it was “kyun.” There was no way we could get across the meaning of “kyun” in one or two syllables of English, so we went with “adorbs,” which is just another word for “cute,” but at least it has a cutesy pronunciation that steps it up a notch.–Towel

about bouhan buzzers (16:06)

The translation note shown onscreen during this scene reads: “a bouhan buzzer is a security gadget carried by Japanese schoolchildren.” We did our best to summarize the meaning of this term briefly, so that it would be readable in the amount of time it was possible for us to keep that caption onscreen. But here’s a longer explanation for those who might be curious. 

It took a while for me to understand what these things were. At first I pictured something like a hand buzzer–the kind that people used to use to prank people. But it’s nothing like that. They’re sometimes referred to as “personal security alarms.” They’re little doodads that you can clip onto a backpack or carry in your pocket, and if you activate them (the most common mechanism for which seems to be pulling some kind of tab or string), they make some form of alarm-type sound. I found a video, below, that shows someone activating two different types of buzzers, showing the sound they make. 

These two make the same sort of beeping/chirping noises you’d associate with an alarm protecting a car or the entrance to a building–not really a “buzzing” sound, or anything that resembles the sound Mr. Cheerleader makes in this scene. But maybe there are other types that are more buzz-like, or sound more like the sound our buddy is imitating. 

According to some things I read when I looked these up, children often play with their bouhan buzzers, making it somewhat less likely that people will be on alert when they hear them go off. I don’t think I could have resisted setting off a gadget like this if I’d had one as a child. They seem to be available with all sorts of characters on them and in all sorts of colors and shapes, which is cool but might make them seem even more toy-like. 

From what I’ve seen, these things are most commonly used by children, but adults sometimes use them too. If you look for them for sale online, there are more adult-looking versions available (say, a rose-gold blob instead of something with cute characters on it–though of course, adults might want those too). One listing I saw advertised that they’re useful for kids, women, and the elderly.–Towel

Tag list: @absolutebl @bengiyo @c1nto @come-back-serotonin @lurkingshan @my-rose-tinted-glasses @porridgefeast @sorry-bonebag @twig-tea @wen-kexing-apologist

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Freminet with a darling who left him for Lynette. He can't seem to figure out where he went wrong, and why you no longer love him like he loves you.

★🐈‍⬛🩷

haha surpriiiise y'all, I'm back, kinda sorta ;v; it's gonna be even slower updates than what it was previously but after a few months away and a lot of ups and downs, I've gotten back into the swing of things haha ;v; i really and sorry for being gone so long

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, watching darling sleep, mentions of murder, kidnapping implications, and other potential topics/content. Please read at your own risk!

It wasn’t supposed to go this way, no part of his plan was intended to steer things this direction at all. Freminet felt at a loss, watching as you happily snuggled up beside his older sister, smiling at her and showering her in the love that he deserved. He was the one responsible for making you the way you are, for breaking down your walls and showing you what it means to be loved and yet no matter what he said or did, you always just ran off to his sister.

You were supposed to be his, he- he killed for you, you can’t just leave him like this. He’s worked too hard…

What did he do wrong? Did he not love you enough or perhaps too much? Was it something he said? You have to tell him, he can’t stand this. The shelves have been ripped off the walls in his room, his desk flipped over, everything torn out of his closet as he searches for answers, for clues as to what he did. Freminet just can’t seem to comprehend that he was the problem. The Lynette was simply in the right place at the right time, offering you comfort for the woes that Freminet had caused. 

Love makes people do crazy things, but that’s what makes it so worthwhile. It’s why Freminet didn’t bat an eye at your resistance, the way you fought him every step of the way after he brought you home. It was ok, you were just adjusting to the love he provided, the love you needed. But no, you just had to run off to someone else, to leave him shaking in anger as he stared you down, watching you hide behind his sister who defended you. She didn’t even love you back, she couldn’t love you like he loved you. Lynette didn’t care for you like Freminet did, you were better off with him.

“Just forget about her, she doesn’t love you. Nobody but me could love a mess like you, have you seen yourself recently? You should be grateful I love you, should feel honored I put in so much work for you, all because I love you.” Freminet is unrelenting in his mission to get you back, whispering hurtful words in your ear while you sleep, hoping to influence your dreams. It’s the only time he can get close to you, when you’re fast asleep and Lynette is no longer near you. He takes full advantage of these moments, shifting your peaceful dreams into tear-jerking nightmares all while gently loving on you. Peppering kisses all over your face, gently holding your face in his hands, fixing the blanket when it moves off you. As cruel as he has to be during these times, it doesn’t mean he loves you any less. Freminet has spent his whole life thinking love didn’t exist, now that he had you, he wasn’t planning to let you just up and leave. You belonged to him, his initials inked onto the back of your neck proved that.

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

I loved your analysis of the Romeo and Juliet reference in Taylors song it was such a perfect example of why people praise her songwriting so much without realising how hollow it is. I also especially loved how when someone commented that they didn’t have a large enough vocab to understand your post, you actually responded really nicely and offered to explain! It’s such a bare minimum thing but so rare to see on the Internet where people often just ignore such comments or become pretentious. Anyway, definitely earned a follow because your posts seem really cool and I hope you do more song analysis posts, whether they’re praising or critiquing music.

Hello! Apologies for taking so long to get back to you! I’ve been in middle of moving (and it’s taking up much of my time ahaha). I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed my Romeo and Juliet post. I love that play- mostly because of its sly, subversive nature and social reform thematic purpose. I remember reading it in High School and how that was one of the first times I was consciously aware of the power literature holds to shift culture and move public consciousness towards progressive ideologies. Remarkable. For that reason, Swift’s repeated misunderstanding, and blatant, purposeful ignorance surrounding the plays, has always frustrated me.  

I will be returning to the topic to write about the infamous “Love Story” (2009), and I’m also going to debunk a couple of her other literary references like The Scarlett Letter one. Also, I will be posting something about her bastardization of Daphne du Maurier’s “Rebecca” (1938) because she over-simplified the thematic point of the book and made it seem silly, and frivolous, instead of the hard-hitting social reform literature that it is. Much of my frustration with Swift stems from her use of literary genius, and the way she twists these stories into empty- ego-driven narratives that singularly focus on break-ups or centering her aspirations towards praising hetero-patriarchal standards in her music.  

I’m fucking over it- Y'all.  

She has this way of taking literary references, some of the most famous and important works in history, and remaking it into something dull, derivative and nonsensical. She incinerates the plotlines and erases the methodology of the literary work through demeaning the intrinsic social reform efforts of the works themselves. For instance, with my post on her work and the reference to “Romeo and Juliet” I mention how Swift purposely leaves out, or negates, Shakespeare intentional social reform phenomenological base to the line “O be some other name/ What’s in a name?” Shakespeare himself is clearly drawing attention to the ways in which people often judge not by the content of our characters but by shallow intonation of our names and station in society. He is using these lines, and the two characters, to show how hypocritical and judgmental it is to uphold petty difference over the ideal of believing in the prospects of human connection. Shakespeare was a radical in his day- he pulled no punches to criticizing the aristocracy or the values of post-feudal hierarchal institutions.  

Swift took such an intentional aspect of his work, his social reform efforts, and purposely divorced it from the line. Thus, remaking, rewording, it into her line, which was a silly, and self-centered, petulant line about how people really should have been nicer to her because she’s a good girl. It’s so fucking stupid- imagine trying to remake Shakespeare without understanding Shakespeare. I cannot abide- now that I’m grown, and no longer a child, who could mindlessly listen to her bastardization of important literary work- I simply must speak up. It’s important because, I think, that her purposeful misuse of the work- making it devoid of social reform- says a lot about her intentions as a person. She’s not the activist people think she is- she's just another pseudo-intellectual grifter.  

Anyway, I’m glad you found something worthwhile in that post- and I hope you’ve enjoyed some of my other posts since then. I admit that I sometimes venture into posting mere opinion- but for my more serious posts I will stick to interrogation of her work through literary invocation. It’s just what I know best.  

If anyone has any questions about my posts- or confusions about my vocabulary use- I am happy to chat and answer questions! I really meant it when I told that person that I would be happy to re-explain using some different words. Sometimes- I get carried away and slip into “academic jargon” but that’s not what I want my blog to devolve into. I want to share information with people who perhaps have not studied literature- or English. I wouldn’t judge anyone just for having a question or being confused about a certain word. I, myself, make a habit of studying other languages- besides English- and that does wonders for keeping me humble about my own knowledge of English. Haha. :) I do not express myself nearly so well in French or German- so it becomes much easier for me to empathize with those who have a hard time expressing themselves with language too. Language is hard- learning is even more difficult. But what a wonderful, rewarding venture it is to ask a question and learn something new!  

I encourage people’s curiosity- truly.  

And yes- I will certainly be posting about other artists as well. Haha, now that I feel comfortable doing so- I will have some fun with it :)  

Thank you for writing in- I am sending you well-wishes and good vibes.  

[inquisitornocturn]

20 Questions: Writing Edition

Thank you so much @cawyden-gaming for tagging me, this looks like so much fun omg!

How many works do you have on ao3?

59, granted I removed one of the longfics recently, so that would be a nice round 60

What’s your total ao3 word count?

414,153 (and minus like 56k extra again from the deleted fic)

What are your top five fics by kudos?

Sanguine Allure

A Small Hope

Shades & Shadows

Falling on Your Sword

When Cannons Fade (this one written for a dear friend)

All of these for BG3 fandom

What fandoms do you write for?

Baldur's Gate 3, Vampire the Masquerade and Rogue Trader, but I have another fandom that is sitting in my WIPs

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I think it's just good manners, plus I really love interacting with my readers. Sometimes a single comment will propel me to write a one shot or a new chapter. I write for myself, but I post for others and knowing that there are others who read my stuff makes it worthwhile to post my works.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Either Specters & Phantoms or Tempus Horizon. Both darkfics.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Misconstruction or maybe Veni Et Ama Me

Do you get hate on fics?

On fics? No. I just get people lamenting that I write villains or darkfic lol

Do you write smut?

That's what I'm known for, your local smut peddler. Some people write with their heart, I write with another part of me

Do you write crossovers?

No, they really don't interest me because I CBA to figure out the logistics. Only cross-overs I'm willing to do is writing oc & oc with someone who's a friend, and set in the same setting

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have and more than once, but thankfully everything was resolved without too many issues

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, several. That was in the past. Now I'm not to keen to give this permission because I can never be sure if my work hasn't be altered

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, but I hope to do it soon (you know who you are)

What’s your all time favourite ship?

I don't really ship, that's why I write reader inserts in a first place

What’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

None. I am fueled by horny and adhd and plan to finish every single project I started. Even the one I have removed I will rework. I don't abandon ideas

What are your writing strengths?

Smut, paying attention to details from sensations and emotions and really creating an interesting scene from possibly mundane scenarios

What are your writing weaknesses?

Typos. I have adhd and no beta so I know many of them slip through, but since this is not trad publishing I try not to overthink it too much, otherwise I will never post. Another thing I think I'm not really good at is fluff

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I would do it if it fit, but only if I can find a native to get proper sentences. Otherwise I resort to a word or two at the most. Oh also, English is not even my native language, but I stopped announcing it years ago, so I guess technically counts as well?

First fandom you wrote for?

For published fic? Oh god... Supernatural. Generally? Harry Potter at age 13. I just carbon dated myself with this one

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Ohhh hard choice and it can change from day to day, but on this day it's 13th of August. I'm still happy to have written that Dracula homage I always dreamed of writing.

Tagging: @porcelainseashore @rhiaden @liocreates @vossprime and I doubt you guys haven't been tagged already but still @theevilscribbler @redstairs @jaal-ama-daravv @pallysuune @redbatchedcumbermayned

[foreveia]

velocity ⤨ multiple

⨭ genre; street racers!au, more per story

⨭ description; the national j-cup brings together the best racers in the country, and as it turns out, you really do hate to lose.

⨭ warnings; profanity, alcohol, suggestive dialogue

⨭ a/n; this is the dedicated page for my new universe: velocity! this was a super duper ambitious project and i definitely invested wayyy too much time and effort into this lmao but i hope u guys love it!

STEP ONE: THE J-CUP.

The Japanese National Cup, or the J-Cup, is the largest street racing tournament in the country. It is annually held in Tokyo in an undisclosed ward for security, and is where the greatest street drivers in Japan can test their skills against other greats. It is considered the most technically difficult street racing ring in the world.

STEP TWO: THE SERIES.

Each of Japan's regions has its own racing culture, referred to as series. Scrimmages are often local, with tournaments being held both at district and city level.

The Kanto series is the biggest in the underground racing scene and includes the heart of street racing in Tokyo's Shibuya ward. This series brings together competitors such as Queen, the best female driver in Japan, and nationally regarded teams fronted by massive racers, such as Miya Atsumu's Inarizaki.

On the other hand, the Tohoku series has been consistently dominated by local legend Ushijima Wakatoshi. However, it possesses some very strong teams, such as Seijoh, lead by nationally regarded driver Oikawa Tooru, and recently rising dark horse team Karasuno. This season, team Seijoh has introduced new driver Luxe, which makes this series a worthwhile watch this year.

STEP THREE: PICK YOUR DRIVER.

queen's track; widely considered the best female street racer in japan. drives in the kanto series. currently in a year long underground winning streak, though she did place second at the last j-cup. always hunting for new ways to spike her dopamine levels, regardless of her safety. her corvette is her baby.

[ possible outcomes: atsumu, osamu, bokuto, kuroo ]

luxe's track; a newbie on the street racing scene with a shocking natural talent. drives in the tohoku series. originally in it for the money, but ends up loving the adrenaline. recruited by seijoh while delivering pizzas. she drives her old honda civic, but modded to accomodate for the racing scene.

[ possible outcomes: kageyama, iwaizumi, oikawa, ushijima ]

⨭ closing notes; im backkkk!! LMAOOO this is essentially my take on a pick-your-own-path rpg; i'm gonna release them gradually but there'll be eight stories total and u are totally encouraged to read them all ;) i worked super duper hard on this for u guys, i hope u all love it and will give every pathway a chance to win ur heart!!

[witch-hazels-musings]

Hello Hazel! Hope you've been doing alright! I'm here for the thaumaturgy event, so I'll get to request; i wish to have a divination with alhaitham, with some frankincense, lavender, and a yellow candle too. Thank you in advance, and hope you have a great weekend ahead! (⁠*⁠´⁠ω⁠｀⁠*⁠)✨

Frankincense (confidence), Lavender (comfort, calm), Yellow Candle (success, creativity) Alhaitham x gn reader | Divination Ritual warning: slight anxiety about research paper

You tried to minimize your fidgeting but the ticking clock, the shuffling of books and focused feet, and the subtle rattle of Althaitham's clothes were trying your patience. You cracked your knuckles for the tenth time and turned to the window.

Below, people went on about their days. You could see them, small and uncaring to the quiet stress you swore seeped from the halls of the Akademiya. In a way you were jealous. Jealous of how frivolous and free their days were while you were stuck in this glass dome, surrounded by books and students all competing to outshine each other.

You thought a little friendly competition was fine. A good rivalry did wonders to boost output and progress, but what you found wrapped in the guise of innovation and discovery was more like a war where both sides liked to break the rules.

Alhaitham hummed quietly to himself. You glanced his way just in time to see him mark something in the margins of your work. "Were my calculations incorrect?"

"Those are fine," he replied and turned the page. It felt like several hours passed before he returned the sheets of paper to the small folder and slid the whole packet across the table.

"What did you think?" you asked, almost too eagerly as you snatched the file and fell into the chair opposite him. Without waiting, you scanned the papers inch by painstaking inch.

"I found the overall composition adequate. To draft a thesis on the Composition of Elemental Reactions is not necessarily a creative one."

You nodded and scanned his notes on page two. "I know, trust me. But none of the articles I read explored the mental and physical toll on the body of a vision user so I figured this might be worthwhile. Oh, what did you think about the section on the Degradation of Synapsis? Were my charts detailed?"

"They leaned toward your point, however -"

"I know. My sample size is way too small. It's kinda hard to convince people to let me poke around in their minds, ya know. But, if they make me a Dastur I'll be able to get more funding. Huh. You didn't like this?" You slid the paper across the table to Alhaitham. He glanced at it for less than a second.

"The points are contradictory."

"What? How?"

Alhaitham pointed to the document and you leaned forward to get a better view. It was hilarious how obvious it became when he explained it. Though you spent almost an entire year on this project, he seemed to understand it in ways you could never. It was frustrating but also inspiring. One day you hoped to be of equal standing.

That's why you fought so hard. So you could be seen by him, noticed. He felt little for social engagements, and rarely participated in group activities but when it came to study, research, and the unknown, his attention opened up and drew you in like falling sand through widening cracks.

"I see," you said but you were distracted. Distracted by his eyelashes, the way his hair fell over them when he looked down, the elegance of his lips when he spoke. You were transfixed and absolutely not focused on what he was saying.

"You're doing that thing again," he commented and slid the paper back to you.

"What thing?"

"Staring at me."

Your cheeks erupted in heat. "I was listening to you, I swear."

"Of course you were," he said, the slightest hint of amusement tugging at his lips. "Do you have what you need then?" he asked.

"I think I do, yeah." But you really weren't sure. This was the culmination of all your work, the chance to prove to everyone here you were worthy. To prove to those who doubted you, your parents, the scholars, to Alhaitham. To yourself. You wanted this.

"When is your presentation?"

"Two days from now. I want to throw up," you joked, reordering your papers and trying to keep your hands from shaking. "Thanks for looking it over. I'll take some time tonight to review them and make changes."

"Best to you then." Alhaitham rose. Normally you would have felt sad at the sudden parting but this was his way. When duty was done, so was he. You pinched the edge of the papers so they sat neatly in their folder when something warm and looming drew your eyes upward. Alhaitham stood beside you, his palm flush against the table, his hair dangling just within view. It took everything in you to fall off the other side of your chair. "When you first approached me, I had my concerns about your tenacity. Kindheartedness paves the way for little advancement in the Akademiya. Yet, in that time I have witnessed your resolve, and seen the beliefs you hold from beginning to end. And though I have and will continue to caution you, it seems I can put worry to rest as it's reasonable to assume you will not be led astray."

You gazed at him, surprised and moved by his words. "That's like, the nicest thing you've ever said to me." You chuckled and hoped he didn't notice the rim of tears threatening to spill over.

"Thank you," he said, holding little reaction to the sound of your laughter as it filled your little corner of the library. "You have more work to do."

"Aha, yes. I do. Thank you again."

He nodded and lifted off the table. "Should you require a space to practice, you are welcome to find me in my office. I will be sure to leave my day undisturbed so you may come when you wish."

You froze, blinked. "Oh, okay. T-thanks."

He stared at you for a moment before reaching out to touch your Akasha. A soft ping filled your head followed by a message: a series of numbers. "What is -?"

"The code to my office. It will be locked when you arrive." You stared at the numbers, your heart thudding in your chest. Alhaitham moved but stopped a few strides away and looked over his shoulder. "This may be obvious but do not share that with anyone."

"Of course," you said before watching him walk through the open, sun-filled library while your hand hovered above your ear unable to focus on anything other than the lingering sensation of his fingers against it.

Thaumaturgy Anthology (October 11-13, 2024)

Master Anthology

This event is based on spells and rituals. Inspiration does not equal understanding; liberties have been taken. All content is owned by Witch Hazels Musings, theft of these images and stories will result in immediate action.

[kosmicdream]

I love manga and comics, but I gotta say. So many of the series i have found most influential to my work either won’t finish, have not finished, or finished in a sort of unsatisfying way. Even if they’re fine, its usually not like.. IT. This is a pretty common experience. I have had a lot more luck watching movies that have endings that felt worth the experience and I’ve started to try to read in hopes to get more exposure to “good endings”.. But i do wish it was more common in my favorite medium to like, have that experience! Even when the endings are pretty good (and there are some, i personally think “paradise kiss” had a great ending that makes me return to the series multiple times over the decades) - I also am like.. I dunno. Its never the highlight of the story, you know. Its not the main reason why you’d read it, is the ending. I would assume most stories across all mediums, the ending isn’t going to be the “best part” anyway. However, after finally finishing watching UTENA earlier this year, I can say that at least for that series (no movie spoilers pls, i still havent seen it ;n;) the ending was in fact, the best part to me and made the entire experience even more memorable and worthwhile to watch. Months later, I’m still kinda amazed that happened! Wish it was not so rare, but also what a treat to get to see something like that felt like what i think an ending to a story should be. Still not a manga/comic ofc, but y’kno. Still good.

Other strong endings for me were: Paradise Kiss (as I said above), There will be blood, Monster, NGE (specifically end of evangelion) … umm!  I don’t know.. Is that really it for me? I like the 98’ Trigun end, but i also hated it as a teenager. So its more of a “nostalgic” one to me, same with Princess Mononoke. I’ll include those just for the sake of having more to think of. There’s plenty more i am fine with and enjoy fine enough.. but i guess its a lot harder for me to find ones that last in my head as what i find to be a satisfying & impressive end.. Of course, endings are all based on taste. Maybe i just haven’t seen enough endings. I think this contributes, along with a plethora of other elements, why writing endings are so hard! There’s just a lot you want to say and it is such a long journey to get there anyway. You are filled with doubt with your executions of ideas, or maybe find the ending you thought of less satisfying than you used to think it was. The longer you spend with something, the more you might find issues. Plus, it really is so hard just to get there. You’re usually falling over with exhaustion just to get to the finish line, let alone do the ending of your dreams. I know when i get to the ends of my chapters, i’m usually so desperate just to get there, i end up feeling like they come out poorly vrs my vision for them. 

Yes.. i have been thinking about endings a lot. Its just something that’s always on my mind, with NRD nearing its close. It still is going to take time of course, but as I revise the last chapters I’m still like left with a lot of feelings with wondering how it’ll come out, if i can even do it, ect. I know i will, its inevitable. But after that, well, my big struggle with FFAK will continue. I know that NRD has given me more tools to handle a series as long as FFAK, but its still getting older and it can be harder to understand all the things I wanted to say with it, what I still can say with it and what is the most valuable to say with it. I can’t do everything! And i certainly have more ideas for it than I could draw, I’m excited to have the story close too. Before it used to make me too upset to even think it i’d cry.. But now i’m like yeah! I wanna know too. I want to share what I thought of, even if its not what readers might have thought it was going to be like. Honestly, with every choice i make in the story, i always have had at least 1 or 2 other options, and I get attached to the other versions of the story that i dont get to make. They all end up very different ends, but still more or less the same story regardless. 

Anyway, just some thoughts on writing and comics today…

[bluegarners]

2024 Writing Year in Review

tagged by: @blackbatcass & @daringyounggrayson tagging: @hood-ex and @boyfridged and @dustorange if you would also like to play <3

number of stories posted to ao3: eight

word counted posted for last year: 37,211

fandoms i wrote for: dcu, batman all media types, green lantern

pairings: i wrote one jaykyle fic pairing but everything else was platonic

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: i am going to leave out solar flares in this count bc i only posted one chapter this year (omg i promise to finish it one day, im so sorry)

most kudos: Shoulders, 411 kudos

most bookmarks: Shoulders, 117 kudos

most comment threads: Shoulders, 21 comments

work i’m most proud of (and why): i know i keep talking about it, but Deep Bells is probably the one i am most proud of just because i've never written anything like it before and i think it's one of the very very few fics i've written where i am satisfied with it and am not cringing every time i come across it

BUT

if i had to choose a different one, it would be sleepless, perfect duty because i really liked the frantic dynamic i managed to cultivate and the familiar but deeply intense child anxiety that comes with perfectionism but also the understood oath that batman MUST come before robin at all costs, even if batman doesn't like it and IDK i think this would be the one i would rec to ppl if they wanted to read one of my fics that centers the early days for batman and robin

work i’m least proud of (and why): solar flares... and my reasoning! is that i am sooo stuck on it... i really would love to finish it, to end it in a way that gets the core message across, that wraps it up in a neat bow so that i and all of my sweet readers can enjoy and find satisfying, but for whatever reason that has been the most difficult thing for me. i honestly look back at the entire thing and feel a little shame bc even though i worked so hard on it and for so long and i have so much encouraging support, i just can't help but dislike it in small ways. i hope that 2025 will let me finish it and me happy with it

share or describe a favorite review you received: SO MANY. SO MANY!!! anytime someone leaves a long comment with sections of the fic copied and pasted with their little reactions or commentary, my heart BURSTS WITH JOY!! i have such difficulty believing in myself and my writing, so every specific or detailed comment makes me feel seen and real

if you left a comment or a bookmark with comments, please know you made my year infinitely sweet and more worthwhile. i know that sounds dramatic, but sometimes seeing that number in my inbox is one of the few good things about my day, so i am forever grateful for those of you that choose to spend your time reading and telling me what you thought

a time when writing was really, really hard: even though i did publish eight fics/chapters this year, writing overall was a struggle. i needed some kind of motivator to write, so a majority of the fics i wrote for 2024 were gifts for others. i hope in 2025 i can self-motivate and write things for myself <3

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: it was a gift for @ekleiipsis, but the entirety of Thumbnail was a surprise! i actually had a lot of fun writing jaykyle and i am the kind of fan that has a hard time perceiving any character in a sexual manner or scenario or really any relationships, so writing jason todd (ace king in my head) getting down and dirty (but in a mild way) was actually fascinating and like dissecting a bug... didn't have a clue what i would find but it was a fun experience!

a favourite excerpt of your writing: i think this is mostly recency bias, but in sleepless, perfect duty, there's this scene that honestly came straight from the heart and mind ( i know it's long but i think it's importanttt)

how did you grow as a writer last year: hmmm i think maybe i thought more about the sentences i was writing. i tend to just dive head first into the zone and whatever comes out on the page is usually what stays there, but i remember specifically trying to create certain tones with my sentence structure. not even the words, but how long the sentences were, where i was putting my commas, how often i was moving on from paragraph to paragraph. i still have a long way to go but i think i made some progress

how do you hope to grow this year: i hope i can get better about writing action scenes and complicating plot via action rather than emotion. probably 90% of my writing is all introspection/character emotion driven

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): @mysterycitrus!!! greta's fics and blurbs shared have made me so badly want to improve my writing, it is ridiculous how talented greta is with not only characterizations but in general well-thought out plots and complexity! i feel i struggle with creating and evolving relationships in a story, and greta's stories do them soooo masterfully in my opinion, everyone needs to go read persephone's in hell if they haven't already

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: i don't think so...

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: for new writers, straight up, your first fanfic is probably not going to be super stellar or get many comments, kudos, hits, etc... DONT BE DISCOURAGED BY THAT!!! it is so utterly rare to be amazing right off the bat and it would in fact be really strange if that were to happen. no one gets good instantly, and even as your writing does improve, that unfortunately won't always be recognized by others. everyone has heard this a million times because it's TRUE but things take time and greatness doesn't happen overnight. remember all of the great writers and artists of the past- most of them weren't recognized for their talents until well after their death. don't be discouraged by bad reception. if you love what you do, you have to keep loving it enough to keep doing it

for the writers that are like me and have been writing for years and want to continue writing but sometimes feel too burnt out or uninspired to do so: don't give up. find something new that excites you, be it another fandom, another medium of creativity, or literally anything else in the world. don't feel bad about leaving a fandom you're established in just bc you don't want to disappoint fans of your work. you're allowed to move on or look elsewhere, you don't HAVE to stay. but if you WANT to stay, don't pressure yourself to keep creating content for others to consume just bc that's what you're used to. start doing things you're not used to or just take a break. if you're a writer, go read other fics or published books. if you're an artist, go write something or read other things. the main thing to keep in mind is you're not obligated to do anything ever, ESPECIALLY if it makes you unhappy

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: solar flares i want to finish (no promises, im sorry </3 ) and there are sooooo many batman and dick!robin fics i want to write, they've been on my mind very often lately. i've talked about some of the ideas i want to put to paper, so hopefully i get on that for the new year!

[hestzhyen]

WSJ 2024 Musings

Please pardon the self-indulgence, kind void. It's the end of the year and I give almost everything that the magazine runs a chance, so I wanna reflect on the 2024 Weekly Shounen Jump "experience". Behold the kind of hobby data I track in spreadsheets (yes I'm a lonely person, please no bully).

Format

Title (start month/year, # of chapters) - thoughts & impressions. Each category sorted from oldest title -> newest

Axed (U19 or Close Enough)

Martial Master Asumi (06/23, 32 chapters) - I liked this and I genuinely don't understand why it didn't succeed. Nito and Nao were a great duo, the sport was lovingly depicted, and the story was unfolding at a great clip while being easy to follow despite me not knowing a damn thing about MMA. Nito was kind of annoying with how hesitant he was, but he was getting a lot better right before the series was cancelled. Chalking this up to Japan's shit taste I guess.

MamaYuyu (09/23, 29 chapters) - REEEEE I LOVED THIS except for the uninspired magic system and harem elements (Minerva best girl by the way). Also had a distinct lack of Mama Yuyu despite her being in the title. The horror aspects of this were amazing though and I hope the author does a spooky series. He really has a talent for depicting the unnerving.

Two on Ice (09/23, 28 chapters) - sports series have to be super gay or super good in premise to get me to read them and this didn't qualify on either point. Not sure what I missed but guess it wasn't much.

Green Green Greens (11/23, 26 chapters) - same as above and lol golf, good luck in a magazine mostly aimed at a school-age demographic (not even the Kuroko no Basuke guy could make it work).

Shadow Eliminators (12/23, 19 chapters) - a really rough start and bad pacing combined with a generic premise killed this from the get-go, I think. It's unfortunate because the author was really cooking by putting a guy in the heroine role (listen, I have my priorities and I won't apologise for them). MC-kun's story was actually interesting too and I would have liked to see it play out longer. At least he and the heroine guy went to the cultural festival together at the end, which is easily construed as romantic when it's just two people. Oh and the ninja girl who talked through a paper bag hand puppet was super cute.

Dear Anemone (02/24, 17 chapters) - fuck you, I liked it. I love dark body horror and this was really interesting despite some jumbled storytelling once the secondary characters were introduced. Probably would have seen more success in a different magazine... or I'm just coping hard. MC-kun was also totally in love with the Best Friend Guy that he admired so much and no one can convince me otherwise.

Kyokuto Necromance (04/24, 18 chapters) - I feel bad for this author. I liked Aliens Area too, and it breaks my heart that he sounded so defeated in his final author's comments when this got cancelled. I hope he tries again because he has good ideas and characters- they just need more time to get off the ground than WSJ typically allows.

Psych House (05/24, 17 chapters) - it was cute and I read it to the end, but it was deservedly cut short for being boring as hell most of the time. I hated the little scientist girl with every fibre of my being too which didn't help since she was a recurring character. I think there were only one or two chapters I actually enjoyed and I kept reading mostly because Nemuru (bucket kid) was a really well-done portrayal of autism. Just read the chapters where MC-chan's friends stalk her and Bucket-kun around town and the one where they go out shopping for pajamas for Bucket-kun. They're the best and only really worthwhile parts of this series (not even MC-chan's drama with her mom was compelling despite the very solid premise).

Yokai Buster Murakami (06/24, 21 chapters) - knew this wasn't for me right away, and seems like a lot of Japanese readers agreed. The jokes in the first three chapters weren't particularly funny or unique so I dropped it pretty fast. Everyone who thought it was "safe" because it was in the last slot as a comedy series probably shouldn't make bets or predictions in 2025.

Finished Series

Boku no Hero Academia (07/14, 430 chapters) - I think this is the last manga of it's kind in WSJ. The end of this series means an end to the mindset of extending a popular series until it runs out of steam (One Piece is a completely different beast in it's own league). All the big hit series in recent times like JJK and KnY were allowed to tell faster, shorter stories and Kagurabachi -the next mega-hit in waiting- is poised to challenge it's predecessor's speed run statistics. But I don't think BnHA overstayed it's welcome despite dropping it a few times due to lack of interest over the years. I have issues with the execution on main themes, how certain powers were handled, and the ending felt too rushed but it really wasn't a bad series at the end of the day. It deserved the popularity and I'll be interested if the author starts up something new. Shout out to Deku and Ochako for not being a horrible couple too- they had some genuine chemistry between them, which is unusual for a WSJ series.

Jujutsu Kaisen (03/18, 271 chapters) - I'm freeeeeee. Only slightly jesting. I feel bad for the author since he was in poor health by the end and clearly just wanted to end it, but I don't miss waiting to see how a fight turned out. JJK did that thing I dislike where characters biff and bam around a battlefield for eons without significant character development, so I read it in bursts instead of weekly until the last arc. The explanations of powers was clunky, some significant plot points weren't sufficiently followed up on for my tastes (mostly around Yuuji and his "brothers")... it was a bit of a mess of a manga but the ideas the author was trying to express were very good. I love how Yuuji got through to Megumi in the end, and what Megumi wished for, how Gojo saw himself, the blatant SatoSugu stuff, the idiot twins dynamic between Yuuji and Nobara- there was a lot of excellence in this series that got hampered by the sub-par battles. I hope Gege can rest and come back if he's still interested in doing so.

Cipher Academy (11/22, 58 chapters) - this ran a little too long to say it was "axed" but it was definitely cut shorter than the author intended. I like Nisioisin for more than his Monogatari Series stuff and I was hoping this would would stay longer, but alas. Iroha was great and I loved the unsexualized, un-haremized(?) female cast that surrounded him. I was too stupid to follow most of the codes and puzzles but that didn't stop me from checking in every week to see what went down. I also have the deepest respect for the various people who translated this series every week because it was absolute hell for them to do it even with some extra time afforded. Doing a good Nisioisin series translation without a book's worth of TL notes is already a feat, never mind trying to translate one involving tons of Japanese-language specific cryptograms and puzzles.

Limbo Series

Mission: Yozakura Family (08/19, 256+ chapters) - I'll admit I've never read this. All I know is that the jokes of it being so middling that it gets forgotten in every type of list are true because I also almost forgot to put it here. Apparently it's ending soon, so I hope the fans of it get a satisfying conclusion.

Undead Unluck (01/20, 236+ chapters) - I read this for a bit, dropped it, and don't remember why so I guess it wasn't worth following after all. Not to say it's bad, just not my speed I guess. Another series that's ending soon so I hope it goes out on a high note for the people who like it.

Kill Blue (04/23, 83+ chapters) - I tried to like this one, I really did. But I think the author would do better to stick to gay sports series that aren't golf. The premise was iffy for me but I was willing to roll with it until everything got bogged down in the haunted house arc and I dropped it out of boredom. The only notable thing this series has done done is daughterzone the middle school girl to the mid-40's(?) MC, which shouldn't be a relief but, y'know. It's not selling too hot so we'll see how long the author can coast off of the mega success of his Magical Gay Basketball series and the general lack of strong competition for spots in WSJ right now.

Nue's Exorcist (05/23, 80+ chapters) - never read this because I'm not into ecchi harem battle manga, but hope it's satisfying the people who do like it. Also not doing stellar in sales but it's not in a lot of danger either.

New Additions Still Running

Super Psychic Policeman Chojo (02/24, 44+ chapters) - I was a fan of Samon the Summoner so I gave this a chance, but it's too skewed towards referential comedy for my tastes. I do love this author's scumbag MCs though. It's not doing great or terrible in sales (for a comedy series) so far, so it's anyone's guess how long it'll last. It won't be overtaking Roboco any time soon though. Hope the Kochikame collab next issue gives it a boost to close the gap a little just because I like the author.

Astro Royale (04/24, 35+ chapters) - I was intrigued and willingly following along with this until chapter 8, at which point I dropped it like a shit-covered brick. The really unfunny transphobic "jokes" about a femme bad guy and dated gender role BS for the sister that was introduced have blacklisted this author for me forever. I don't care how much I liked the rest of the supporting cast, I don't care if the author writes a series that sells a billion copies with a single volume- I'm never going to give him a chance again unless he makes an effort to improve on how he treats women and trans people in his works (as if he'd care, I know). It's another series that isn't doing great in sales but probably isn't going to be axed imminently because it's still selling better than other stuff.

Ultimate Exorcist Kiyoshi (06/24, 26+ chapters) - please read this, it's got so much heart and soul! It's definitely not a perfect series -the action's nothing to write home about and the story isn't original- but the characters are top-tier and this author knows how to play with reader expectations. It feels like an earnest love letter to the essence of shounen manga that's just about found it's footing with the most recent chapters. Kiyoshi's in the same boat as Astro in terms of sales- not great, but it's being given room to see if it grows or treads water. I hope it grows because this is a joy to read almost every week.

Hima-Ten! (07/24, 24+ chapters) - the best way I can describe this after dropping it at chapter 2 is "ToraDora for people who don't want to read ToraDora in [current year]". Unfortunately I don't want to see ecchi of high school girls, so the panty shot in the second chapter made it clear this series isn't for me. It goes in the bin of "hope it does well for the target audience" titles. It's seeing some modest success, but it's got a long way to go if it wants to reach the same tier as Nisekoi and BokuBen (We Never Learn).

Ichi the Witch (09/24, 16+ chapters) - I trust the Iruma author with my life, and the artist also being a woman helped me believe that this wouldn't be a male power fantasy series despite the premise. So far it's delivered with phenomenal art and characters and a story that's just interesting enough to keep it in my mind. I do appreciate the author and artist's intentional additions of diversity through Desscaras (best girl no contest) and what could be some trans femme and/or gender non-conforming folks in a position of power. Will be looking to see how volume 1 sales fare when it comes out early next year. WSJ wants this to be a hit with the billing it gets already, though, so I hope it meets expectations!

Shinobi Undercover (09/24, 15+ chapters) - I'm honestly not sure how to feel about this series. The MC is fun to follow, and I like the main girl well enough, but it feels like this series isn't sure how to strike a balance between action and romcom plot beats. I think if it doesn't hit it's stride soon it could be in trouble. Happy to be wrong even if I end up dropping it though!

Hakutaku (09/24, 14+ chapters) - this is dead in the water and it kind of deserves to be. It's cute but there's not much else to say about it since it glosses over the interesting bits of game development and goes for emotional and cool moments that it doesn't build up enough to earn. I think the author has a passion for indie game dev but it's just not coming across that well with all the yapfests and skimming the technical bits. Then again, I'm a tech person that gets annoyed when my hobby/career/interest is simplified for non-tech people in ways I don't like, so... maybe I'm just elitist? Either way, I don't see this making it out of the U19 club with how poorly it's been doing in surveys and rankings. RIP hope the author isn't discouraged and I'll see this one out to the end.

Syd Craft: Love is a Mystery (11/24, 6+ chapters) - Bit too early to say how this one's faring, but it seems like a competent romcom. It's not a genre I like most of the time so I won't be reading further than chapter 4 but surely the BokuBen author will have another banger with this. Surely. I do like the MC at least. But it doesn't seem like it will satisfy anyone who wants actual mysteries to solve- it's a series that's firmly planted in the romcom territory while using Sherlock Holmes aesthetics for comedy.

Safe Series

One Piece (07/97, 1134+ chapters) - what is there to say about a legend? It's the face of the magazine and feels like it will be around forever despite Oda saying he wants to end it at some point. I don't have it in me to catch up with it but I respect the hell out of this series for it's popularity and longevity.

Me and Roboco (07/20, 215+ chapters) - I feel like too many jokes are lost in translation to fully appreciate this as someone who really only understands English, sadly. But it has an impressive run for a comedy series and shows no signs of slowing down any time soon. If your series gets a Roboco parody, you know you've made it.

Sakamoto Days (11/20, 195+ chapters) - the action never fails to disappoint! Even if the story gets boring at points, there's always some killer art to look forward to. I'm also really digging the current arc so it's good vibes all around for this series right now. Just wish the author could decide on how far he wants to stretch realism when it comes to people's assassin techniques. It's got an anime airing in the 2025 Winter season so I hope that brings in new fans (and has good direction and animation, which is vital to sell those stunning action scenes).

The Elusive Samurai (01/21, 185+ chapters) - I'll admit it, this is a series that I'm not worldly enough to appreciate. Historical fiction is a tough sell to me to begin with and being bombarded with completely unfamiliar names, locations, and events every chapter left me feeling pretty lost. I stuck with it for a while just because I liked AssClass and Neuro so much but I had to admit defeat around chapter 60 or so. Maybe the anime would be easier to digest?

Witch Watch (02/21, 184+ chapters) - dropped it early on since it's a romcom, but it seems cute and is doing well so I hope it stays successful for it's fans. Anime soon!

Blue Box (04/21) - I liked the one-shot and the author deserves all the success from the little I've read of this. Again, not my genre, but glad to see it doing well. Hope the anime is a hit too!

Akane-banashi (02/22, 140+ chapters) - easily would be #1 for me if not for a certain edgy sword manga. The art, the story, the characters- everything comes together perfectly to weave a compelling narrative that is absolutely an odd fit for WSJ, but enriches the magazine for being present. Everyone needs to read this series! It's crazy how consistently amazing it is! You don't have to know a thing about rakugou to get invested and fall in love. The current arc in particular has been 10/10 chapters for months now and I can't recommend it enough!

*Ruri Dragon (06/22, 26+ chapters) - another "not my thing" series- I tried it before it went on hiatus and it's alright, apparently very good for people who like Slice of Life and cozy coming-of-age stories. Glad the author's feeling better and is able to keep going.

Kagurabachi (09/23, 63+ chapters) - ...do I need to say anything? I don't write hundreds of thousands of words for any series but this one. It took over my brain and I've been completely enthralled for months now- it quite literally occupies almost every waking thought. Much like Akane-banashi, all the core elements come together in an incredibly satisfying way that makes it a must-read for fans of the genre it belongs to. The action is stellar, the characters are phenomenal, the story is blisteringly fast but still being competently told for the most part, and the way sensitive topics are handled should be held up as a model for other authors to follow. If you only read one manga in WSJ, you're missing out. But make it Kagurabachi.

*Digital Exclusive (not printed in the physical magazine)

Hiatus x Hiatus

Hunter x Hunter (03/98, 410+ chapters) - I love this series, I really do. Togashi's the only author who can get me to read his novel when I signed up for a manga. I always look forward to it's return and I hope the author's health holds up long enough for him to end it in a way he's happy with. Re-reading the current arc in full when it's finished will be a fun few week's worth of political gamesmanship!

Overall Thoughts

The magazine's in an interesting period of transition right now. Many of the new series launched this year aren't generating a lot of buzz, big and middling series have ended or are ending soon, and the near-future age demographics in Japan pose some serious questions about what WSJ will do to adapt and keep selling.

The magazine is nowhere close to being in dire straits, to be clear. WSJ is more of a publication for all ages that has a lot of appeal to 12-17 year old boys at it's core. But that demographic is shrinking while the aging population grows. I think this is why the magazine is experimenting with more mature series like Kagurabachi and Chainsaw Man from a few years back- they know they can't keep the same raw sales numbers up if they rely on the core demographic as much as they used to.

The dearth of mainstay mega-hits compared to years past is also why some series like Kiyoshi and Astro are being given more grace than if they had ran a few years earlier. Neither series is doing great in terms of volume sales, but they're not obviously unpopular enough to be easy axes for something with more potential. They have breathing room for as long as there needs to be more action/battle manga in the lineup and nothing more promising comes along. They're safer than ever with Undead Unluck and Yokozora ending soon too.

If we're talking mega-hits in the making -JJK and BnHA replacements- then the only clear option right now is Kagurabachi. This isn't to put my favourite series up on a pedestal! It's just that, historically, the WSJ series that get the most attention and recognition are action series. When people think of WSJ "pillars" they think of the battle series even if a romcom is outselling everything but One Piece (happened this month with Blue Box coming in #2 for volume sales of WSJ titles).

I think Ichi the Witch can find success but it's the only one out of everything that's been released this year that I have any significant faith in, to be honest. I want Kiyoshi to do well and keep going, but it's not exactly "hit" material right now and the volume sales reflect that. Everything else is too early to say or already not doing so hot for WSJ standards.

I think this could be an opportunity for experimentation. WSJ has had a pretty consistent lineup of an ecchi series, a romcom, some comedy, a drama/mystery here and there, and a lot of action. Adding pure Slice of Life series like Ruri Dragon and Psych House shows a desire to branch out in my opinion. The success of a pure drama series with a female protagonist in Akane-banashi is also encouraging. I would definitely like to see more genres! Maybe even a proper horror series...?! I'll be looking at the new 2025 serials with a keen eye for any new trends. Maybe in a few years we'll have the "pillars" be something other than only action manga!

Alrighty, that's a wrap. Thank you if you read this and I hope 2025 is good to you. May we all find a new manga series to fall in love with! And may it survive the axe!