#cause like I can't think of any other reason why there would be this much of a coincidence

[dcxdpdabbles]

I love love all your writings!!

I like your depictions of John Constantine.

I'd like to see you write the sad trenchcoat persona as just that a persona in the same fashion as how Brucie Wayne is a persona.

Maybe he's been the de-aged Danny/Dannies father for years and is an actual functional adult. The sad trenchcoat is just used to keep people from calling on him to frequently because he's a dad and has dad-like things to do.

He could help tim with the time stream thing, like 'oh, yeah that does look like Bruce. Alright kid pack a bag we're going in the time stream I know a guy. No Nightwing I'm not joking this looks like solid proof'.

Maybe Bruce has a oh shit he's actually competent and could kill me, that's hot moment. (Kids I have found your other father, help me get him home)

"I would love to offer more of my time to waste on monitor duty, but I have a previous engagement. A particular fit lady needs help getting her dress on the floor. The cloth always gets stuck on her horns. " John leers, wagging his eyebrows at the grimaces his words cause.

He takes a puff of his cigarette, inhaling the smoke like a drowning man. He never smokes at home, not with Danny's sensitive lungs or Dani's general disgust at smoking, so he only had the chance when called away on missions.

Plus, Danny was trying out for ballet soon, and he wasn't going to ruin his son's chances of being a star because of his own poor habits.

It helped that the rest of the heroes believed he was consistently pumping nicotine into his system. Rather irresponsible for the hero to publicly commit frowned-upon activities - at least in the States. Back home, no one cared that much.

It didn't matter that the Justice League was a global team; the main hard hitters and founders were nearly all American, and they tended to uphold those social expectations, either subconsciously or not.

One more reason why they shouldn't bother John, he can't have him smoking at a big awards ceremony or seen going through an entire pack of cigarettes mid-fight. Oh no.

John Constantine was one of the best magic users of this universe, but he was a last resort. There were plenty of other magic users like Zatanna, Dr. Fate, Zatara, or even Etrigan that came to mind first.

John was likely too busy drowning his misery in bottles or the arms of any willing partner. That's what they all thought.

Or more importantly than what he wanted them to think.

"Well, this has been a time." He announces, snapping his fingers to open a portal to his house. "But I have to run. My lady needs a knowledgeable hand to help her-"

"Enough," Batman growls. Though he has complete control over his emotions, John can tell he's irritated by the meaningless detail. He smirks as the hero waves a hand, "Just go."

He offers the rest of the meeting room a cheeky two-finger salute as he struts out, letting the portal close behind him so his trench coat flares dramatically. It's a nice view, he's sure, but it's also unnecessarily showy, and he is sure at least three pairs of eyes are rolling at his exit.

A chuckle escapes his mouth, straightening from his slouch to properly stand straight and bend it far enough to pop. Goodness, his act always leaves him with a sore upper back; maybe he shouldn't hunch over so much, even if he was playing the part of a no-good punk.

John only had a few seconds to shiver at his own thoughts- he was a punk. A real one! He was in a band!- before he heard the tell-tell sign of a rapidly approaching double set of footsteps echo down the hall. He scrambles to fling his lit cigarette into a water portal, chucking the pack for double security, while summoning a random suitcase from thin air.

All that's left is his rather eye-catching coat, a little too worn down and old to work well with his well-put-together outfit underneath. Without it, John has a clean, pressed white shirt, a respectful tie, and a pair of slacks that make more than one head turn as he walks.

All in all, he looks like the office businessman his worthless father always wanted to be.

John throws off his coat over a chair at the same time the door is thrown open with a pair of excited yells. "Welcome home, Dad!"

A grin stretched across his face before he could think about it, feeling his heart swell at the sight of them, as he knelt down, arms open wide. Two tiny bodies slam into him without a second of hesitation, nearly knocking John backwards.

He lets out a soft grunt as Dani's arms attempt to wrap around his left arm and right shoulder. She clashes against Danny, who's trying to bury himself into John's right side, little face squished against one of John's pecs, like a bunny burrowing into the snow.

"Hello, my little lambs!" He gushes, squeezing the kids close. "How was your day with the House of Mystery? Did you two behave?"

"They were angels," Black Orchid confirms, gliding into the room at a much slower pace. They had their regular, impassive expression on their faces, but John could tell that Orchid was happy with the kids by the way they gently tapped the tops of the children's black hair.

"Dad! Dad! Now that you're home, can we please go get my new ballet shoes?" Danny begs, bouncing on his toes.

For a moment, John doesn't see his son, but rather his own blue eyes staring up at his father, when he was also five, begging to join Lily, the next-door neighbor, in beginners' ballet class.

His father had beaten him nearly to death for wanting such a girly interest. It was the last time they spoke about it. It was also the last time John ever bothered asking to start new hobbies.

"Dad! Dad! Can I do Karate?" Dani asks then, snapping John from his memories better left buried, as she presses her check against her brother's in an attempt to get John's attention. "I want to break a board with my fist!"

He gives the children another squeeze, laughing at the squeals he gets. "Of course you can do karate, little lamb. We're going to get your brother his shoes, and then I'll find a gym that offers the classes at the same time."

"I already provided that service." Orchid cuts in, holding a flyer for Flying Graysons' gym, founded and run by the eldest Wayne in Gotham. "I took the liberty of signing Danny up for a class with Casnadra Wayne, and Dani will join Duke Thomas's class. It starts in a week."

"Plenty of time to go get them everything they need and a new book series for our bedtime stories," John announces, loosening his arms so his children can cheer and bounce up and down in excitement. His knee is starting to cramp up, but he ignores it so he can hold his kids.

It's moments like these, so small and mundane, that John is grateful he thought of his persona. When he first learned how to use the magic he was gifted, he always made himself available for any crisis.

This was before the Justice League days, so anyone who sought him out was familiar with the occult world. He adored helping, and he built an incredible amount of skill and knowledge in magic, but soon John was facing disaster after disaster, dragging his exhausted body from one place to another.

Those who came searching for him never cared. They wanted John to jump at the drop of a hat. He tried for years to always be ready, always be willing, but years of isolation and desperate battles tried him to the core.

Then he took in Danny and Dani, finding the pair of babies in a basket at the feet of the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep. He had gone to investigate the legends of the famous King Pariah Dark, only to find what he assumed were originally sacrifices, well and truly alive.

Their names were attached to their feet with a letter written by a Jazz Fenton begging the two to grow and live well. She had died to save them. In her honor, John kept their names.

Daniel "Danny" Fenton and Danielle "Dani" Fenton. He often wondered what Jazz had been to the kids, with their identical last names. It is a question he will never get the answer to.

They could have been no older than five months, but when they opened their eyes and reached up for him, John realized he no longer wanted to be the go-to man of magic.

He wanted to be their father.

To discourage people from calling him away from his children, John created his persona of a man barely honorable enough to join a team. Over the five years of his raising his kids, his reputation plummeted until only Batman called to him unless absolutely necessary.

It was a breath of fresh air. John had fought for too long and too hard. He was retired now, just like his band days, the days when John would speed off to save the world were behind him. He only stepped in if a friend asked for a favor.

He had other priorities now.

The best part? The Justice League would never know that.

"Dad!" Dani screamed into his ear, making him grimace.

"Inside voice, darling."

"Sorry." She twirls her fingers, a nervous habit she picked up from John, before brightening up "I'm just super excited. Orichad said Mr. Bruce Wayne will be at the gym! Do you think he'll sign my Wayne Space shirt?"

Ah, yes, the man who was funding some space program or another. He only knew about this because his twins adored anything to do with space travel, as if though he couldn't just teleport them to a different planet.

"I'm sure he will, darling."

[endereies]

I hate coming on this app to talk about insistent drama that follows each week, but here we are again. I don't just wanna talk about the most recent events in this message, but about everything that's happened this year especially.

Tumblr is our space to write fanfiction about three 21-year-old boys from Boston. That's it. I'm not sure what happened along the way, but we have had stalkers, pedophiles, death threats, slurs, and more. I'm also not sure where half this app got the audacity to act like that.

I come back from being inactive to see slurs thrown in a meme post with an appalling reply with another meme at the bottom. That just screams insincere to me, and it's offensive. The slurs were thrown in conversations where it didn't need a place. If you are allowed to say it, then fine. But that language, even if allowed, shouldn't have that much accessibility to an average conversation. To then publicly post that, not knowing the impact it may have on people is disgusting to me. I'm sure languages have enough words for you to use. It's literally the reason we are writers.

To then see messages complaining about the triplets, especially their appearances, also seems rude. They won't see those messages on your group chat and I hope they never do, because it's disrespectful. Calling them names based on how they look goes against all you write for, all you stand for. I can't begin to see reasons why you have a triplet group chat, just to make fun of them.

The only messages I have seen of this gc are the ones that are posted on @thetripouts , but I've hated each one I've seen. I've had no reason to click on them, I am not in the gc. Why would I click on messages that have no context or meaning. But seeing the odd message or so has given me a clear insight into this chat. And I want nothing to do with it. The language is belittling to other members, outside members, and the triplets themselves.

Why do we keep giving it a place to manifest. We don't need any bullshit or drama on this site. We never have. This negativity has caused many people to deactivate or become inactive. Seeing honest and wholesome creators become overwhelmed by the sight of the drama - let alone be involved in it - is upsetting to see.

I've seen people leave due to death threats, I've seen talk of death tossed around in casual conversation, disturbing some people. I, myself, have been affected by pedophilia and grooming. It's a horrible thing to be a part of and has no place on this app. No one deserves to be treated that way. Whether you intend it to be a joke or not doesn't mean you can dismiss people's feelings for the sake of humour.

We need to do better as a community, suck up your shitty messages and ideas when you're aware it causes nothing but problems. If you're unaware or uneducated, please reflect, educate and apologise. It's simple steps I'm sure a toddler could follow.

I'm sure half the people making drama know better, and are adult enough to make decisions that won't hurt another person. Yet it seems people don't think before they post. The Internet is a free place to say what you think, but respect is and always will have a place in conversation. Don't be an asshole.

I say this more times than I can count but let's just go back to writing our fanfiction, because it should never be this serious🤷‍♀️

[revcleo]

There's a large amount of tumblr who definitely have 0 money, but still did donate at the beginning of things, and now definitely don't have the money to donate, but there are plenty of people on tumblr who don't donate as much as they did because the messaging has worn off.

I don't think making people on tumblr all into like, people reposting the messages people are posting here on other sites is going to do anything more than make people think of tumblr as a scam site (even if things are vetted) and like that's basically a fundraising job. I run a smallish mutual aid and that still is a little bit like a job sometimes.

I've seen a good TED talk from a person who does a bunch of fundraising recently which is also useful on the whole guilt based fundraising thing:

But like I think the ways how people fundraise have to think about these certain things:

If something is ongoing, then treat it as ongoing, don't make it urgent even if it is. There was a lot of initial donation towards people when the genocide started, because people did want to get people out as soon as possible, but no matter how urgent things are in regards to people needing money, if something is urgent every day the message wears off.

Like people at all income levels felt like they were helping initially, but there were plenty of people at the start saying "please don't treat this as a sprint, treat it as a marathon" who got shouted at and told to shut up when like yeah it's a marathon and people will be demoralised who might be able to buy that cup of coffee everyday but now they see the coffee as my little treat which makes me happy when all I see everyday is war crimes and I can't help.

Treat people as intelligent beings. People HATE being advertised to and especially hate being tricked into being advertised to. Asking for donations is a form of advertising, advertising doesn't always mean capitalist fuckery it just means you want eyes on something for a reason.

So like there was a person I knew who was obviously desperate to have more people look at his work, so he would do a poll about a character which was obviously framed in such a way with one very horny answer that it would get people to reblog it. It always felt so slimey and dishonest to me. Like it's not something fun or organic, it's just desperate.

When people make submissions to the mutual aid I run I specifically ask people not to do long posts telling me all about their problems, it's not that I don't care it's that I don't need to care, I need to know their solutions. If they need money to fix their car so they can get to work, then that's what the request is for. It's absolutely useless to make me feel sad at the same time. If there's money in the mutual aid, then we can help, if there's not then we can't. People think you need to make people feel sad in order to get help, you don't. People want to help. The thing which makes people get help isn't how sad they make people, it's luck, if you're seen first then you get helped first. Sometimes constantly making people sad also just makes people not to want to feel sad any more so they won't interact.

Along these lines is that people want to feel like it's optional to donate towards a cause. That's why people call people who try and get you to sign up to charitable causes on the street by approaching you "Chuggers" (charity muggers). It doesn't matter if someone has £5 spare a month to donate to the Dog's Trust they'll put more than that in a cute statue of a dog with a coin slot in the head than they will to someone approaching them with a clipboard.

The whole charity drive thing is great, it can raise loads of money, but the whole thing behind it is community. That's great for raising a lot of money for something which happens once every 6 months. If people need regular help that won't work.

What I would suggest is instead working community in a way that reddit did. I've seen a bunch of things on reddit of people helping each other out with money in interesting ways. There's some which is a very organised informal loan process, but there was one where a whole bunch of people get together and donate $1 all to the same person.

It's community, and it's enough people that it always makes a difference, and it was regular (like once a week) and there were enough people to pick up the slack so not everyone had to do it every week.

I think what would probably be effective is if there was a community and once a week people picked from the list of vetted people, and then everyone donated a little bit. There doesn't have to be only one of those groups either. There could be multiple, but people could just join one and get a sense of community action rather than a sense of individual hopelessness.

I hope this has been useful and not just me looking like I'm complaining rather than trying to make things more helpful towards individuals

ive been trying to look up the research i read a while ago about the negative relationship between fundraising for charitable causes and using guilt- or scolding-based messaging (to wit, that even though we think as humans that logically yelling at or scolding or guilt tripping someone will make them donate more to a charitable cause, that actually making the target audience feel bad causes an aversive response that lowers the amount of money you raise, or causes a "slaughter the sheep" effect where someone donates once but forms no ongoing relationship with the charity and avoids you from then on, both principles being pretty strongly supported in other areas of human behavior research afaik?) because ive been trying to formulate a post about it that is more likely to be received as constructive rather than critical (which it is not meant to be, critical that is), and since corpo scam charities and NGOs (also scams) are mostly the ones doing this research every search result i find about it is marketer nonsense.

however, this post from 2016 which starts out with the marketing expert relating a story of the time he almost killed his childhood friend with a rock is like one of those horrifying reddit posts that get turned into youtube spook compilations, which is SO funny in this context

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

hii !!

how do u think sam would react in a gender swap situation? like would he avoid everyone or ask for advice from his partner ??

First of all, can we all acknowledge how absolutely, insanely beautiful Sam would be as a girl? Tall, muscular, dark hair and eyes, strong features? Wait, why am I on one knee? Where did this ring come from? 💍

Dean already calls Sam a girl 24/7, so nothing much would change in that regard. I feel like Sam would already have good understanding of the female body - not just from personal experience of ravishing yours, but also because Sam just knows stuff. I also headcanon him as a feminist ally, and that entails knowing things about what women have to deal with (cis women in this case, but Sam's a trans ally too, cause he's a good person ❤️).

Anyway, while it's of course reason to freak out if you wake up in a different body, Sam remains mostly cool. He takes note of the changes, of how differently people look at him, talk to him. He knew all that in theory, but experiencing it is something completely different. He throws you a couple of unbelieving looks, and what can you do but shrug?

Maybe it takes a few days to reverse the spell. Maybe you and Sam lie in bed at night and he's staring up at the ceiling. He can't believe how different the world seems. He's still him, but it's like everyone else has changed. Dean's even more protective than he usually is, but it doesn't feel good. It feels a little condescending, even though he knows his brother means well. It's like simultaneously everyone decided he's much more breakable while at the same time making him feel like being that is the most important part of him.

He feels you stir beside him, looks at you as you slowly open your eyes. You haven't changed how you behave. You're still just you, give him shit, tease him. You blink yourself awake and look at his face, the features there softer. He's a little bit shorter now, but you say you don't mind. Easier kissing distance.

Except you haven't done any kissing since all of this happened. Touching, yes, like holding each other at night. But it makes Sam wonder.

"Can't sleep?" you mutter, and Sam nods. Keeps looking at you, until he finds the courage to say what he wants to say.

"Why haven't you kissed me since all this?" he says, indicating his changed body with the arm that isn't around you. You move your head, the skin of your cheek rubbing against the pillow.

"I didn't know if you wanted me to," you reply, voice still scratchy from sleep. Sam chews his lip.

"Do you want to?" he asks. Your gaze roams over his face slowly.

"Sam, I always want you," you reply and it makes his heart flutter. "I always think you're beautiful."

Sam knows better than to get comfortable with stuff like this. Leaning into spells and the changes they cause, illusions they create - he knows better, and so do you. But he feels you shift, press yourself closer to him.

He kisses you before he can think about it for another second, pulls you close. Your hand goes to his cheek, then slowly wanders down.

The spell is broken and Sam's turned back the next day. He's surprised how happy he is to be back in his body, considering he and it haven't always had the best relationship. But he actually missed it. You take his hand, squeeze it. Things are back to normal.

Except you'll always have the memories. Except Sam will always know what it felt like to have your hand cup his breast, thumb swirling over his nipple. What it was like when your hand slipped into his PJ bottoms. The feeling of wetness between his thighs. How he had to stop kissing you when you touched him, his breath catching with the intensity of it, how different it was and at the same time not.

When Sam came with two of your fingers inside him, your palm pressed against him, he was sure for a second something was wrong. Nothing should feel that intense, right? He turned his face to you, kissed you deeply, desperately. Felt you grin that sinful grin against his lips.

"And the best part?" you whispered into his mouth, your hand already moving again. "We can go again right away."

Sam smiles at the memory now. And swears that he will make the most of this new found understanding.

This was so FUN! Thank you for this amazing ask, I hope it sort of did what you were hoping for? ❤️ Also now I just want to immediately write a bunch of gender swap smut. Dang it! 😄

[primulagoldworthy]

I just came across a podcast with Lucien's VA (from 12/2024) He was asked about his thoughts on Elain and Lucien and replied:

"Okay, so part of the reason why I hold back: I'm so sc- I love the fandom but I'm also so scared of them. You know what I mean?"

Yes, yes, we know what you mean, Gabriel.

He was reluctant to answer the pairing question. Can't blame the man. 🌷☀️

Also this interview was made by podcasters who lean more towards Elriel, but try to interpret the whole book as it is written:

So I felt like he was balancing in between and choosing his words wisely (especially since they mentioned that they believe Elriel is the thing before he shared his thoughts on the matter):

"I, too, agree that they will make each other better. Because I love Lucien so much. I think if he was to be romantically paired with someone, I would want it to start, start pure, to start right. [...] I think if you wanna do right by that character, I don't think a mate for him can just be another thing of circumstance. It has to be something he chooses. I think both Elain and Lucien, they need real agency. He is an emissary but his agency was all through Tamlin, and then there's always this discussions with Elain not needing more agency, but could stand to have a little bit more in comparison to Feyre. And I think a friendship where they both kind of shape each other for the better is such a more impactful ending than any romantic pairing that can happen. I want so much for Lucien in terms of his happy ending. It has to come from within, before it can come out. Cause I think he loved Jesminda, but she has almost become a tragic ideal for him. She's been immortalized in this way. And Elain, he doesn't know much about her, so she could also very well be a living ideal, but still an ideal. And I think - I see Lucien as a character who's going to, like, disappear and go off on adventures [...] I see him traveling. I want Lucien and Elain to go off and travel. They need to see, they need to, you know, especially Elain [was interrupted here, as the mods said how nice it would be if they traveled 'just as friends'].

"There were so many laughs I had to do with Lucien in the first book. I have a feeling she'd laught a lot with him. I just picture him just knocking his head back and just laughing and having a great time just traveling with, with Elain. [...]

"Elain's been just the sister who has been groomed just to, you know, be beautiful and sweet and kind, and find somebody. But she also deserves to have her rogue moment. Were she's just like, does something so completely unexpected. And I also kind of want her to go a little crazy [...]"

We're blessed to have voice actors who love their characters so much! I'll listen to their Graphic Audio version over and over again.

You can listen to the whole podcast here:

[slaaverin]

It doesn't matter who's name is on the deed or the address location or multiple addresses, really if you think about it, Jikook have never not lived together/cohabitated together in some way. They always find a way. From sharing a dorm when they were trainees and even a bed back then, since Jk spent more time in Jimin's than his own, to being the last two to leave the house & growing up and getting "separate" places, but for some reason those two still having sleepovers at each other houses, as nearly 30 year old men and tell us about it. To hotel rooms and staying in each other's room more than with other members, in and out all day, 3 times a day and at 1 am always together where other members joke its Jk's room when its actually Jimin's, to bedroom & bed sharing on personal trips they've taken together, to now Room sharing in the military for almost 18 months now. The location & address may change or differ sometimes, but in the end, the togetherness in one place, is what has remained the same for years. And I think it's something alot of people overlook, when wow that is just so special and really tells you all you need to know about how close they are. We see members doing shows together alone or with friends out of BTS and its Jikook doing a show together. We see members living their separate lives in their separate houses on a documentary and its Jikook together in Jimin's house cooking. It's members enlisting separately and Jikook enlisting together. Jikook even sending joint gifts together from the military. And seems Jk still wants that togetherness for the next 50 years with Jimin, traveling the world. His words. And he has never ever said that about anyone else. I would say at this point, Jikook won't be looking back, no matter what kind of relationship they have, cause they have already overshared so much to go back. They just want normal it seems "hence oversharing" when they don't need too. Who knows, maybe one day they will live together. Maybe as besties, roommates, or more, cause these two can't seem to stay away from each other, no matter how hard they try. Wouldn't be the first time. I kinda don't see them living with other people either tho, cause Jk is out here planning for Jimin to travel with him for 50 plus years. That alone says commitment, when you think about it, even Jimin was taken back lol but he agreed and wants that too. And if they don't do any of that, it still won't change anything. Whatever they have is special and its unbreakable. Good for them. We shall see what happens.

Yes, yes, yes.

They also spent 18 months together yet still manage to spend even more time together during their vacation.

That level of commitment and closeness is completely unheard of. Not only in kpop but in real life. It's very rare and quite astonishing.

But I agree, there will be no going back. They already shared so much, they already reinforced that they would choose each other over and over until they are 50 (and more!) in their heads they appear quite sure of themselves and their relationship.

It's my opinion but this great change that is most likely to come, all those deep discussions they had about how they wanna live, it can all lead to one only conclusion: being themselves even more, letting go of fear, being unapologetic about where their hearts want to lead them.

Because anything else would be going backwards and that's usually not how consciousness works. People can experience setbacks and regress for a while, yes, but usually the direction is up. Everything they've done so far is very gradual and soft in a way. Over the years we got more and more until AYS and enlistement. So the next "natural" thing to happen next would be expansion (but the form will depend, it could mean anything.)

The heart wants what it wants, and to go against it is far more difficult than going with the flow of it. I believe that's why they had "no choice" but to follow their heart for all those years and be this open. The other option would have been way too painful.

I don't know what the future holds, we are not in their heads, but from everything we know from them, I think it's safe to expect a few things most likely to happen.

Whatever the circumstances (living arrangements, schedule) they will find ways to spend time together, that's pretty much a given. And I don't think they will want to repeat a separation like in 2023 if they can avoid it because clearly that year was a bit hard on them both.

So whether with new content such as AYS, collabs, living together, or something else we don't even think of, they will remain intertwined.

Honestly, this service probably did a lot of good to their relationship. They spent 18 months with the other being their one true support system without fame's distractions and they had all the time to have soul-deep discussions about where they are at (10 years of relationship is also a good point to reassess things) what they truly want, what they want their relationship to look like and how they want to include it in their lives, also how much a priority it is for them. I believe all of this must have been discussed and it's a very good thing.

They were also there for each other in an obviously quite challenging environment and it can do nothing else but to bring them even closer.

Perhaps it helped them come to quite enlightening realizations about what they truly want. That's my theory. And depending on this realization, conclusions, and plans that come from it, it could really go in two ways.

First, this will to be intertwined will remain and they will find ways to make it happen, reinforcing for us what we already knew and continuing on this same path of gradual openness and sharing while still remaining careful as they've always done.

OR, and that's my recent theory, perhaps the realization, the will of the heart, the leap in consciousness is bigger than what we imagined, and it spurts them to make a bigger change, something bolder, something we don't even envision and that can truly shake things up in ways we didn't expect. That's also a possibility. I keep in mind the Wheel of fortune in Blue's reading and spirit turning the wheel. It could mean a lot of different things. I don't know what exactly and how it will look like in practicality, but I guess we will find out soon.

The first live will be perhaps the most important thing to look closely to because it will give us A LOT of information, and then we'll be able to speculate further. (Isn't it fun to speculate? It's fun!)

Whatever happens, I'm not too worried, as you said their bond is unbreakable, maybe even more now, so whatever route they decide to take it will all be fine.

Of course I'm still very curious to see what enfolds 👀 I feel like a child at christmas ready to receive presents lmao

It's hard to be patient. But we must 😭

Maybe it's good to have quiet time now, to prepare, because once it will be going there will be no stopping. And trust me its gonna be INTENSE. So let's buckle up.

Thank you and take care anon 💜

[tangents-within-tangents]

I think what bothers me the most about people doing this is that I always see them say something about how Saw "unnecessarily blew up the base" that it was "entirely useless" and he was just "stubborn" and "couldn't see the bigger picture"

And like 1, WE have the dramatic irony of knowing that Tarkin and Krennic are going to survive bc we saw the other movies, Saw did not. 2, It wouldn't have been "useless" and "unnecessary" if his plan had succeeded, and he obviously didn't know it wouldn't succeed.

Rewatched the scenes recently (bc I got in a fight about this on pinterest of all places lolll), and there's a very important detail people always ignore:

The Batch being there messed up Saw's plan too. They both didn't know the other would have a mission there at the same time and both missions suffered for it. The Batch maybe could have gotten away with the disturbance in the hangar, and Saw's team could have gotten away with hacking the cameras, but both together drew too much attention and the Imperials discovered them. (which, side note: makes me think back to episode 1, when Hunter tells Saw you can't defeat the Empire and Saw says "not alone we can't." like maybe if they had been working together with the rebel groups they could have better coordinated their efforts)

Saw had no reason to give up his mission, that he surely planned and worked for for weeks, with just half a minute of talking with some guys he ran into. Why should he give up his mission that was equally important to his cause anymore than they should give up theirs? Also why is this fandom acting like trying to kill Tarkin is a bad thing??? Hello??

Saw: Taking out several of their top commanders is a good start. Tech: Well, that victory will be short-lived as their ranks will quickly be replenished.

I just really don't think this is true. Tarkin is a big player, like 3rd in command after the Emperor and Vader, I don't think that taking him out of the picture would be useless. Think of how much work and sacrifice went into assassinating Reinhard Heydrich during WW2. Or how taking out Dooku and Grievous was a major factor in ending the Clone War. Rogue One also shows that Krennic is the main reason the Death Star even happened, bc he championed the project and brought Galen Erso back to the Empire. And if Hemlock had died then? Yeah the clones would need to find another way to find Tantiss base (which they end up doing later), but Omega never would have been captured (something else people like to blame on Saw). And if Hemlock dying at the end of s3 is what leads to Tantiss and Project Necromancer being abandoned and Omega finally being safe, I think it's safe to say that the ranks wouldn't just be replenished without any significant impact.

Taking out major leaders is a valid strategy, especially if a bunch of them are in one place. Like literally if Saw's plan had succeeded maybe the war could have been cut in half with one attack. That is the definition of the bigger picture! Yet bc Tech the oh so smart guy said one thing about it being short-sighted (in typical bad batch 'fighting the Empire is futile' fashion) everyone agrees that it was for nothing. Like honestly with all this in mind the Batch are really the ones who should have given up their mission for Saw's. And saying it was useless just because his plan didn't work out is like saying something like Operation Valkyrie was useless because it failed.

And again, it didn't work out because the Batch being there interfered. So basically, if yall are gonna blame Saw for Tech's death, then by that same logic you should blame the Batch for the Death Star and Alderaan.

Also, I think it's kinda messed up that they gave Saw this line "sacrifices have to be made for the greater good" as if it is radical, dismissive, and selfish (or at least that is how I always see people twist it), a year after Andor s1 came out which showed a Saw who clearly understands and feels the weight of those sacrifices.

For those who didn't know fans have been blaming Saw, it's been happening since that episode aired but Generation Tech did so in a recent video and you'll see plenty of this annoying sentiment in the comments. Literally saying "Saw KILLED Tech" and never mentioning Tarkin who had the car shot off the track. (They do it so violently too, I've seen stuff like "get your pitchforks" and "he must be drawn and quartered" and even "I bought an action figure of him just to torture him" like babe get a life and it's not his freaking fault!!)

I think what pushed me over the edge is seeing some people say "if only the Batch had followed orders and killed Saw in the first episode then Tech would still be alive"

like

I hope they were just joking bc um WTF??

"If only they had FOLLOWED ORDERS"???? You mean Tarkin's orders to literally kill civilians and CHILDREN?!? The orders that pushed them to leave the Empire, arguably the only moral decision the Batch (minus Echo and Omega) ever made in regards to the Empire?? Those orders!?

I'm so uncomfortable with fans blaming Saw for Tech's death, when arguably there were so many other factors. Saw isn't wrong for deciding to stage an attack when all of Imperial High Command was in one place.

I think it's unfortunate that Tech died, but with the way Bad Batch fans talk about Saw you'd think he was being malicious towards Tech in the first place. Mind you, he warned them, and didn't immediately blow the place up.

There's more smoke for Saw than there is for Tarkin or even Hemlock, in that scene. Wasn't Tarkin the one who sent reinforcements that contributed to Tech having to sacrafice himself? Even if Saw didn't blow the place up, they would have been cutting it incredibly close.

I think another layer is they wouldn't even be there if it weren't for Crosshair working with the Empire to begin with.

Idk why but whenever there are ample examples of other people besides Saw who contributed to Tech's death (namely, you know, the Empire), the blame is unfairly placed on Saw.

And if you want to say what Saw does doesn't do anything on the Grand Scheme of things, then fair. But same with Rex and his clone revolution. Regardless though, they are still acts that manage to negatively impact the Empire, no matter how small.

It's not Saw's fault Tech died. It's Tarkin's. It's the Empire's.

[otomes-world]

Feel free to skip cursive text. A short drabble without any pretensions to something more and a possible continuation purely because I wanted to return to the "roots" and write something with a yandere tag. Often I catch myself thinking (hi Rook), that in the end I can't decide whether this or that fanfic of mine is yandere or normal one. I leave it to decide in the end, but it doesn't work that way (hi Rook). Feel free to imagine any character but I'll add in tags who would fit more

Perhaps you're not the most attentive person. You can notice some little thing in the text or in life that someone, ordinary, would ignore or not attach importance to. For some reason, when it came to the plane of one person's relationship with other people, everything stopped working as intended.

More than once, having analyzed your flights and mistakes, you were convinced that there was nothing "otherworldly" in your behavior, there was really nothing there. In communication with someone, you tried to either hint or directly talk about your opinion about relationship with someone. Banally did not want it, did not think, "why rush" and a simple lack of interest. You were always extremely honest, believing that at the slightest hint of encroachment in your direction it was worth gently, but without hidden meaning, to put the person in their place.

For some reason, in the new world, things that should not have changed did not work. Should you reduce everything to an interworld mentality? Did such a concept even exist?

Conversations that did not go beyond the scheme: hello, how are you, goodbye. A nod or a wave when seeing each other in the distance of the corridor. Maybe sit on the nearby desks in the same lessons. Much to your frustration there always was someone who thought that you were "playing hard to get". To make this work, you need to have at least some semblance of feelings for the person and have an established opinion. Should we reduce everything to the banal pride of a magician, if such a concept, again, existed?

You were mentally choosing between two options: continue to ignore or approach first, trying to sort things out. The first meant openly playing the role of an uncomprehending cookie, a tree, if you will. Not noticing lingering glances, messages in the chat with "Good day to you, how are you?", a desire to help visible to the naked eye. Pretend that an invitation to spend some time together or work on school project was simple politeness. Think that all the efforts made were nothing more than a whim of a bored soul and if anyone were in your place, nothing would change.

Or act cruelly, but honestly. Dot all the "i's", break the heart before the ephemeral feeling and hope for more, which you could not give, finally take hold in it.

The conversation did not go as planned. He went into the steppe, which, in your subjective opinion, could only happen in a tooth-grinding romantic teenage rom-com. Under no circumstances in life.

"I know you don't feel the same way I do. Yet"

Yet, he said yet. When you were trying to be a sensible piece of society. When you were trying to take the problem seriously. All your efforts to get along and end things of no use to anyone. So you really decided to ignore the hints. Since it didn't work out to end things on a good note, you also would play unfairly.

The new conditions didn't bother him in slightest. On the contrary, it seemed that he was genuinely amused by your irritation and slight dislike for his self-confidence, you would simplify arrogance. Nothing serious, just a series of emotions caused by resentment.

The gestures became more noticeable. The glances that followed your figure were replaced by touches that lingered for seconds longer to pass an object. Speaking of them, why were you always missing some little thing like a pencil or a textbook, when you were exactly, 100%, sure that you had put everything in your bag. He was always there and was always the only one willing to lend you the item you needed so generously.

Instead of invitations came gifts and flowers. Flowers, such a hated word lately. When you turned him back with the roses, he assumed it was because of their bright crimson color. When it turned out that pink, yellow, and somehow purple inflorescences did not cause the desired reaction, other types were used. Chrysanthemums. Lilies. Daisies. Cornflowers. Succulents. It seemed that when all the known worlds of flora ran out, he would simply go around for the second round.

And so it happened, because a bouquet of only one blue rose was waiting on your porch. If he was going to use language of flowers, you would start climbing the walls from frustration.

Naturally, flowers were not the only way to show attention. Sweets, jewelry, hobby items. How did he even know that you liked to do this in your free time? When you returned one or another box, you received two of the same kind the next day. If this was his way of making you accept his gifts, he succeeded.

There was too much of him everywhere at once. Opening a door. Offering a hand. A bunch of all sorts of advice from the book "1000 and 1 ways to woo the object of adoration." He made your life a kind of hell, when everyone around you assumed you were a couple in advance. When everyone around you was genuinely worried about his relationship, as if they were their own. As if they were watching a TV series where you were the very character that made everything stretch out into millions of episodes and seasons.

If you had never felt anything for him before, now you were overwhelmed with absolutely different kinds of emotions. It would be a lie to say that there was at least one positive one among them.

You can be understood, really, but on his part this was a small victory.

[youling-the-ghost]

hi yes I'm alive :D (unfortunately)

to anybody who cares, I'm currently suffering from what I can only describe as "glorified mental torture wrapped up in a cute little bow of academic validation" (also known as exam season) which is why I haven't been as active on tumblr recently. unfortunately exam season is not yet over and it seems that the world hates me because every important guitar recital that I have coming up somehow overlaps with my exam seasons which is like...how??

anyway, that's just a long-winded way of saying that I probably won't be on tumblr at all (and if I am it'll probably just gonna be small reblogs/likes) so uhm. yeah. please excuse my inactivity ^^"

[kenmaspuddinghair]

Honorably discharged partially disabled Simon, who swears he is perfectly fine and capable of doing everything himself. But it doesn’t really matter what he thinks says because Price sees differently. He sees the way Simon’s hands shake and how he’s started fidgeting when he’s never done that in the past, he can see Simon’s right side, the side that was crushed under rubble during an attack, he sees it shake and almost falter every time Simon puts even a little bit to much weight on it, but what worry’s Price the most is when Simon zones out and stops paying attention to his surroundings or whatever he’s doing. Not to mention now Simon has to go back and live in civilization, when all he’s known is military life since he was still a teen.

So although Simon claims he’s fine, Price gets him live-in-help, you. You’ve been with him the past week and although he rarely talks you’ve learned a few things. The blinds always need to be fully open unless he’s sleeping, he needs to be able to see what’s happening but it’ll keep him up when he’s trying to sleep, so they close at night. He gets very tense when he can’t see your hands, it hurts you a little to know he doesn’t trust you but you understand. He can't cook at all, unless you prepare food for him he’ll only eat a prepackaged dinner nothing else, of course that isn't healthy so you've started fixing him both breakfast and lunch which he accepts with a grunt but he doesn’t eat till you’ve started. He never takes off his mask around you unless he's eating and even still only up to his nose. Lastly you've noticed something always sparked in his eyes when you called him Simon, you haven't been able to figure out what it is so instead of risking offending him or something, you've stuck to calling him Ghost.

Price chose you for two reasons, you were quite, something he thought Simon would like, he was very wrong. It’s probably the oddest thing about him, he doesn’t like when you're super quiet you've learned it cause he doesn’t know where you are or what you’re planning the other reason is Price hired you is because you were a military nurse for quite a bit so you would always be there for Simon. This was something Simon actually did like it meant he didn’t have to leave his flat just to see a doctor, what he didn’t think about though was the cut and bruise on his face that he would have to remove his balaclava for.

“Okay Ghost” you paused not sure how he would react to having to take his mask off “I-i need you to remove your mask for me please” almost immediately he grunted out a why “because you have a cut and bruise on your face and I need to make sure it’s healing properly” Simon stilled completely for a few seconds before he slowly pulled the balaclava completely off. You took a second looking over his entire face before you brought your hand up inspecting the area “your bruise is completely gone” you whispered slightly surprised it had only been a week, you went to write it down but the moment your hand left his face he spoke up “it’s still ere, jus can’t see it” carefully your brought you hand back to his face to carefully push on his check “does that hurt” “bit” was all he grunted out, you hummed to yourself as you removed your hand and started writing, but had you been looking at him you would have seen the almost pout gracing his face.

Once you finally looked back up, placing your hand on his face “okay let’s finish this quickly” you say looking over his scar “I know I’m not that pretty but you ain’t gotta rush” he said in the quietest voice. You looked up into his eyes quickly only to find them looking back at you with what you could only describe as curiosity mixed with need “Gh-Simon that’s not what I meant, your very beautiful I just thought you wouldn't want me touching or looking at your face any more since you always hide it behind that mask” he never replied to you, just kept staring with that look in his eyes. Finally you peeled your eyes away, finished writing whatever you needed to in your book then you got up and walked away “I’m gonna fix us some lunch, okay Simon?” you called from in the kitchen already, and that’s when Simon managed to place the feeling he had been having every time he saw you. He liked you, he had a crush, a crush! “Simon?” You called again “yeah okay” he called back, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up, not when he thinks he might have found a new purpose in life.

pt 2 here

[jaydenism]

I would love to see what your hypothetical Kanade crash out would look like ngl (you don't need to draw for this if you don't want to a text explanation would still be awesome)

ok soooo this isn't exactly the crashout but rather building up to it i guess :P

the rest of this post is gonna be rambling and predictions ⬇️

alright this ask enabled me, im gonna just dump all my thoughts as of now on what's to come for kanade's story :) i could end up being completely wrong, but hey im just theorizing and having fun here while i wait very impatiently lol

To start, I don't think kana5 will be on the scale of mizu5 (i mean i might be biased but idk if anything will come close to that level of insanity again), mainly because there hasn't been as much build-up to a breaking point. Kanade's issues have been pushed aside (by herself especially) and not heavily focused on up to this point in the story. There hasn't been any increasing tension for things to reach a climax yet. Having her big break be in this next event would be too sudden and sort of unprecedented. For this event at least, I highly doubt that'll be the case. Instead, I think this event will start to touch on Kanade's buried issues more, and begin building that tension for something bigger. I can see this being a multiple event arc, similar to the events leading up to the climax of Mafuyu's story. Summarizing that, yes I think Kanade's got some real tough shit ahead of her, but that's why this won't be a one-off event story. I think it'll just be the beginning.

That being said, to touch more on my predictions for kana5 itself, I think Kanade will start to slip, and the others, Mafuyu especially, will take notice. I can't really predict anything specific, but I think something will happen that will make her question her ability to save people, or cause her to be harder on herself, as she has in the past, to keep composing persistently, neglecting her own needs and health. However, things are different now than they were before niigo. She has more people around her that will be able to see the damage she's doing to herself. But she also knows they all look up to her, and that her music lifts them up. She knows they all have a lot they're dealing with, and she needs to be there for them. She can't let them down.

Then, when Kanade pushes herself past her limits at the cost of her well-being, what will she do then? She meets with the others on nightcord every night, and Mafuyu is living at her place. She won't be able to rot away by herself anymore without people noticing. But she still feels this need to be the group's rock and to be the one to save everyone, so she'll try her damn hardest to prevent the others from worrying about her. She'll shoot down their attempts at trying to talk about it. I think she might be especially stubborn this time around, and it might cause niigo to have to figure out a way to help Kanade, since they won't be able to get through to her at first.

Kanade has shown in the past to get uncharacteristically aggressive when she's pushing herself too hard, as shown above. She starts to take on everything herself, and snaps at anyone who tries to stop her. I think this side of her will be shown more going forward, as she begins to go down this kind of self-destructive path yet again. At least, that's where I think her story will go. Her tendency to work herself to the bone hasn't really been resolved, and she's gone so far with it before to end up in the hospital after passing out. She doesn't care what happens to her, as long as she can save people. The only reason she has ((slightly)) gotten better at taking care of herself is so that she can be able to keep composing without ending up in the hospital again. Not because she cares about her health. Because she must keep composing. She still only does the bare minimum for herself. If it's her cooking, she's only having instant ramen, and most days she's probably not going to see the sun. She still doesn't sleep much, and Mafuyu has said that she's often falling asleep at her computer.

This might be getting a little rambley atp, but my point is that Kanade neglects her own needs in her determination to save others. I mentioned how she neglects her physical health in the last paragraph, but she also neglects her own feelings as well.

She minimizes her own problems or just doesn't even talk about them. I think she truly believes that her problems don't matter, that they only distract her from her goals. The reason she doesn't open up is likely because she herself doesn't believe her feelings are important at all. She doesn't pay them any mind, and she doesn't want anyone else to either.

Of course, I have to bring this card up. I think this is just a perfect visual representation of Kanade's feelings, and it's great foreshadowing for what's to come. Those feelings are buried deep within Kanade, yet to be addressed or solved. THIS is what we're getting into. Kanade, depicted as an angel, surrounded by death. I think this is related to her guilt surrounding what happened to her father, believing it was her fault. That she destroyed everything. But because of that incident, she told herself she has to keep composing, and never stop, in order to save people. She feels like she owes that much, and that that's her sole purpose. She won't allow herself to think otherwise. No matter how much it destroys her, she must be a savior for others.

Last thing I wanted to add, because I saw this reblog under a prev kanade analysis post, and they brought up great points. Especially how dangerous Kanade's composing grind can get. We wouldn't even have a story if Honami hadn't found Kanade unconscious!!! I think she might get to a really low point again like this, but having Mafuyu there especially, it won't be able to go unnoticed. I don't have much else to add to those tags though cus they speak for themselves 🙏

Finally, just real quickly going back to the little comic I drew, this is just a rough idea of how I think Kanade could act. She'll get noticeably worse, but will try to hide that fact from the others and deny any help from them. I also mentioned that I think we could see more aggression from her again, so I included that, as she feels threatened in a way by Mafuyu worrying about her. She can't let that happen. Also, Kanade's impending doom aside, I think this progression in the story may also spark some change in Mafuyu. She might show some more emotion in this or future events, and she may realize how much Kanade means to her, motivating her to do more for her. I think it'll be a full group effort to save Kanade, but I wanna see Mafuyu taking a bigger role in this. I just think this also has the potential to grow Mafuyu's character more.

Also, as for the Kanade crashout, I really don't know how they'll handle that. I can't really predict what they're gonna do with her climax. But I want her screaming yelling and crying !!! like she better go insaneeee 🙏 and I also feel like they have a lot of potential with her seiyuu/VA and stepping out of the soft quiet voice to do some crazy shit, maybe in the songs too pls pls pls give us loud kanadeeee

OKAY THATS ENOUGH YAPPING its 5 am i havent slept....

[gabseyoo]

DON'T WASTE THE NIGHT — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: college/university!au, halloween setting, female reader, virgin!kiyoomi, popular!reader, virginity loss, mutual pining, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, pretty vanilla but cute, mean girls references, kiyoomi might be a little occ, he’s shy :(, atsumu being atsumu. word count: 8,0k.

notes: yes i’m late to halloween but i don’t care :) it’s being so long since i posted a one shot and i had this idea for maybe a year, two (?), and i finally had the inspiration to write everythiiing. i’m happy with the result, i hope you like it too <3

Halloween parties were not Kiyoomi's thing. Rather, no party at all. He didn't like the crowds, the drunks, or the excessive noise. But thanks to his group of friends (which he doesn't even remember how he ended up being a part of), staying away from parties was almost impossible, so it was already a common thing for him to be dragged to one every weekend where he would be counting the minutes to leave and drive all his drunk friends home. 

But, that was not the case tonight. 

Surprisingly, it was the first time Kiyoomi didn't want to leave a party, and that was thanks to a certain someone who had shown up at the Miya's Halloween party. 

"Just go talk to her." 

Kiyoomi almost jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of his personal headache, also known as Atsumu. 

"Who?" He asked, playing dumb because he knew perfectly well who the blond was referring to, and mentally slapped himself for not being more discreet.

Atsumu snorted, "Y/n. You're staring at her like a creep." He said, pointing his head in your direction across the room, where you were talking enthusiastically with your friend, dressed in a pink tracksuit. "I don't blame you. She's pretty."

Sakusa kept silent, trying to suppress his need to agree out loud, because of course you were pretty. More than pretty. 

"You like her, don't you?" 

Kiyoomi sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable with the question. It was obvious he liked you. Very much. But he didn't trust Atsumu to be able to not make a big deal out of the fact that Sakusa liked someone, so he decided to answer his question with a dry: "No."

"Liar." The blond replied. "It's pretty obvious that you like her."

"I don't like her." He insisted, though he already knew it would be in vain, it wasn't for nothing he called Atsumu his headache.

"So you hate her and you're staring at her 'cause you're planning her murder?"

Jesuschrist.

"I'll be planning your murder if you don't shut up." 

Atsumu pursed his lips and Kiyoomi thanked god in his head. But the fake threat seemed to work only for a limited time, because the twin spoke again seconds later, making him roll his eyes.

"Don't you even think she's pretty?"

He let out a sigh in frustration, but agreed with the question because, c’mon, it will be a very blatant lie to deny the obvious, "She is." He admitted, "But I don't like her." 

"You do like her, there can't be any other reason why you were looking at her like that."

Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, is there a way to shut this guy down?

"Like what?" 

"Like you like her." 

"If I say so, will you shut the fuck up?" He blurted, resigned. 

"I knew it!" Atsumu exclaimed victoriously, and Kiyoomi just let out a sigh, cringing when the twin tapped him a little too hard on the shoulder as if he was congratulating him. "Wow. So Omi likes someone, huh, who knew." 

"Don't make a big deal out of it." 

"Omi, liking someone isn't a bad thing." He said in a more earnest manner, perhaps trying to show that he was actually serious and not joking about his friend’s situation. 

Kiyoomi closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before replying, "I know it's not."

"Then why don't you go and talk to her? She's in your class, isn't she? It wouldn't be weird. Maybe she likes you back."

The twin had a point. Sakusa sat behind you for two hours straight five days a week during a very boring class. While you might not call yourselves the best of friends, you could say you got along well— you would usually turn around to ask him if he understood the subject so he could explain it to you, borrow a pen or offer him a gum. Occasionally you would randomly show him your phone with something you thought was funny and there were even times when you would ask his opinion on which item to buy or which selfie to post, you would often have small conversations and even followed each other on Instagram. And, as a bonus, lately you had started walking together to the classroom exit at the end of class where you would say goodbye with a 'see you tomorrow'. 

But you liking him back? He didn't think he was that lucky.

Because, yes, maybe you weren't a stranger to Kiyoomi and he wasn't a stranger to you either, but contrary to what many believed, Sakusa Kiyoomi didn't have much experience with women, not even with having a crush on someone. The idea of talking to you outside the classroom made him nervous. You were too pretty and too charming and too popular and too hot and... out of his league.

There were times when he wondered if it was possible for you to like him? Okay, call him arrogant, but he knew he was nowhere near ugly, that was a point in his favor. But one point that was not in his favor was the fact that, yes, maybe he was good-looking, but the university was full of good-looking guys, who unlike him, were more... outgoing. Guys who smiled more and didn't have a grumpy attitude like he did, who weren't known for being rude, and who probably wouldn't think twice about asking for your number or inviting you on a date. And, honestly, he felt like one more in the very long list of men who have a crush on you. 

"It's just..." He started, but the words were lost in his throat.

"Just what?"

"She doesn't see me that way. Just leave it at that, okay?" He finished his sentence, taking a sip from the bottle of water he'd been carrying since he arrived. 

Atsumu folded his arms, glancing in your direction for a moment before making that smile that never meant anything good, "You know what? I have an idea." 

Kiyoomi panicked. "Miya, what are you gonna do?" 

"You'll thank me later." 

And just like that, Atsumu pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and before Sakusa could stop him, he started walking in your direction.

No. No. No. No. Kiyoomi's heart was going to escape from his chest. Fuck. He knew it was a bad idea to be honest with Atsumu. A. Fucking. Bad. Idea.

He watched frozen from his spot in the corner of the room the moment the blond approached you, greeting you and your friend casually before saying who knows what that made you look at him with confusion for a moment as you exchanged more words, but after something that left the blond's mouth, your face lit up with a smile. The interaction seemed to be going well, until the twin pointed— really fucking pointed—over his shoulder, and then, you connected your eyes with Kiyoomi’s for a moment. 

His feet began to move automatically. 

Towards the exit. 

He was so embarrassed. What did Atsumu say to you? What did you think? Fuck. He didn't even want to know. He was out of here, he'd move his seat to the other end of the classroom, or better yet, he'd never set foot in that class again, who cares if he had to repeat it next semester, that was better than looking you in the face after this.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" 

Sakusa was halfway to his car when he heard the twin's voice call out to him. 

"Home." 

Atsumu trotted up in front of him. "Come on. Don't be like that, listen-" 

"You fucking embarrassed me." He spat, pulling his keys out of his jacket roughly. 

"I didn't. I just did you a favor." Atsumu replied, crossing his arms proudly, which only raised Kiyoomi's anger levels.

Don't punch him. Don't punch him. Don't punch him.

"Fuck you, don't talk to me ever again."

"C'mon Kiyoomi, trust me. You think I'm capable of making a fool of you?" The twin asked with confidence in his voice. Kiyoomi simply looked at him, his silence explaining his answer, which caused Atsumu's smile to disappear. "Ouch." The twin brought a hand to his chest dramatically and Kiyoomi rolled his eyes before pressing a button on the control, removing the lock and alarm. 

He was barely about to open the car door when Atsumu spoke again. This time in a more serious tone, "Omi, I'm your friend. Just trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Kiyoomi would never admit that those words made him feel a little bad about his attitude. 

Without removing his hand from the door handle, he blurted out the question that was consuming him and that he needed an answer to.

"What did you tell her?" 

For some reason, he expected Atsumu to answer with honesty, but he wasn't surprised when instead, the twin simply replied, "A wingman never reveals his secrets."

"Oh, fuck off." He mused, opening his car door just a few centimeters before the other man's hand closed it.

"Look, just go inside and talk to her. I swear I saw it in her face that she’s interested, of course, until you ran away like a chicken. I hope she's not offended and you've lost the opportunity of a lifetime." 

Only a sentence of Atsumu's words caught his attention.  

"What do you mean with 'she looked interested'?" He asked, his voice betraying him by not sounding as disinterested as he wanted it to.

Atsumu smirked. "It seems like she does see you that way."

You do?

The mere possibility of that being true, of you seeing him that way, was what prompted him to let out a last sigh and set the car alarm again before locking his keys in his hoodie. Although he wouldn't say this out loud and was still unhappy with Atsumu's actions, the twin was right in saying that this could be his chance. Maybe he should stop feeling self-conscious and just go for it. 

"If you're lying, you forget I exist." 

"Deal." Atsumu said, stretching out his hand, waiting for him to take it, but the black-haired simply brushed past him, to which the twin simply huffed in resignation before following his friend.  

Kiyoomi's feet felt heavier with every step he took back to the twins' house, he was going to do it. He was actually going to do it. He was going to talk to you outside the classroom, after whatever Atsumu had told you, which opened the door to many possibilities. One, was that you liked him; the other, was that you didn't and that you only saw him as a friend, he longed too much for the first option but he wouldn't be dissatisfied with the second, it all depended on how things turned out when he walked through the door in front of him.

Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, filling himself with courage before placing his hand on the doorknob. 

But that burst of bravery he was able to fill himself with was interrupted by the twin, who stopped him with a grip on the wrist.

"Don't touch m-" He didn't finish his sentence since Atsumu put something cold in the palm of his hand. 

"Here." Atsumu whispered and Kiyoomi looked at the object, frowned in confusion when he realized it was a key. "It's the key to the guest room. Use it wisely."

Use it wisely? What did that mean?

"Why would I want to-" Kiyoomi started, but the twin interrupted him, raising a finger to silence him. 

"Shh. Thank me when you're at the altar and I'm your best man. Let's go inside." 

And just like that, Atsumu grabbed his arm to pull him inside the house.

Bruno Mars' voice was blaring from the speakers in the living room, people were singing at the top of their lungs, drinking and dancing, evidently having a good time. Sometimes Kiyoomi wondered how the twins knew so many people, there were so many guests that they had to push their way through the crowd to get to where you were still standing by the kitchen area, looking spectacular as ever as you talked to your friend.

As if you sensed his presence, you turned your face and your eyes met, causing Kiyoomi's heart to skip a beat. Damn, was this a good idea?

"Here he is." Atsumu announced their arrival excitedly. "The Kiyoomi I was telling you about. Does he look familiar?"

Sakusa almost rolled his eyes, but the chuckle you let out at Atsumu's humor stopped him, "Yes, I think I know him." You replied, your eyes still fixed on the tall black-haired man in front of you. 

"Perfect!" He exclaimed, clasping his hands together enthusiastically. "Then, since there's no need for introductions, I'll leave you two alone." The twin said, patting him on the back before turning and leaving. 

"Yeah, me too." Your friend said, throwing you a mischievous look and copying Atsumu's action, losing herself in the crowd. 

Now that you were alone (if it could be considered "alone" in a room full of people), he wondered where the direct Kiyoomi was when he needed him. Say something, say something, say something, say something. He mentally shouted to himself, but he was so intimidated by your presence and the cute way you were looking at him that no words could formulate in his mouth. 

"Uh—, hi." He said after a few awkward seconds of silence, trying to play it cool by leaning against the kitchen island. 

"Hi." You replied with a smile and looked up at him, as if waiting for him to say something else, but at Kiyoomi's lack of response, you continued, "How are you?"

So fucking nervous, he wanted to say, but instead, a 'fine and you?' left his mouth. 

"Me too." You said, and he noticed how you bit your lip lightly, as if you were thinking of what to say before speaking again: "Um… did you do the homework for Monday?"

"Yes, and you?"

"Yup."

Fuck. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. If he were someone else, someone like Atsumu perhaps, he might have already charmed you with words, made you laugh and you would be having a more enjoyable conversation. 

After a sigh, you spoke again. "Are you drinking?"

"Yes." He said, raising his water bottle and feeling stupid a second later, obviously by that question you meant was he consuming alcohol. "Something like that. And you?"

"Something like that" You repeated his words, raising a glass goblet showing what appeared to be a cocktail. "It’s strawberry juice, goes with my costume, and I'm also driving tonight, so I can't drink too much."

"That's very responsible of you."

That's very responsible of you?!

Couldn't he think of something more stupid to say? Probably not. 

But if you thought his answer was stupid, you didn't give it away, since you giggled before saying, "I think it is."

In an attempt to divert attention from his very stupid comment, he took advantage of the information you gave him about the drink to salvage this interaction. "So— why the drink goes with the costume?" 

"You don't know who I am?" You asked, raising your arms to better show off your costume. It was very 2000s style. A pink tracksuit, a white blouse under it, also a necklace. 

"Uh— Paris Hilton?" He guessed, inwardly hoping he was right. 

You giggled again. "Almost. I'm Regina George's mom." You said, giving him a bump with your shoulder against his arm. And, amazingly, Kiyoomi for the first time did not find an unexpected physical contact upsetting. "What do you think? I didn't know who to dress up as and this was last minute."

"You look…" Divine. "Good."

"Thank you." As soon as your words were out of your mouth, he noticed how you stared at his outfit, squinting your eyes and making a tender gesture with your mouth that he had learned you did when you thought of something. "Come to think of it, you pretty much look like Damien in that hoodie. You should just add some sunglasses." You added after a few seconds, pointing to the blue fabric covering his body. 

Kiyoomi frowned. Damien? Who the fuck was Damien and why he looked like him? 

“Who?” He asked. 

“Damien? The guy who shows up in the middle of the gym scene? With the blue hoodie and glasses? You haven't seen Mean Girls?”

The tone in which you said it made him regret having refused his cousin’s offer to see that damn movie a few months ago. 

"No, I've only heard of it." He admitted with a shrug.

Surprisingly, you smiled at his response, "It's a classic. We should see it sometime."

We should. A half smile appeared on his face at the word we. "Yes, we should."

"Um, do you wanna go watch the beer pong game?"

—

Two hours later, Kiyoomi found himself having what was perhaps the longest conversation with a girl of his life, and the one he had enjoyed the most. 

After awkwardly breaking the ice and watching Atsumu lose (two times in a row) in beer pong, you moved to the living room, where you luckily found space on the couch where you had been sitting since then. 

Kiyoomi leaned back against the couch, his elbow resting on the armrest as he listened intently to you recount an embarrassing childhood memory that had him chuckling softly. The sight was rare, and his friends’ curious stares only made it rarer, he knew they were probably losing their minds right now, but he tried to ignore them, though, focusing instead on the way your eyes lit up when you spoke. You were magnetic in a way he hadn’t expected, and the realization only deepened the smile tugging at his lips. God, how much he regretted not having the self-confidence to talk to you in this way much earlier. 

“Okay, your turn.” You said, nudging his knee lightly with yours.

“My turn?”

“To tell me something embarrassing. Come on, don’t hold out on me now.” You teased, leaning just a fraction closer.

Kiyoomi let out a low groan, feigning reluctance. “Fine. But you owe me for this.”

As he started to recount a story about an unfortunate middle school haircut incident, his voice grew more animated, his laughter trying to break through every now and then, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room melted away.

The conversation flowed naturally, but there was an underlying tension, an awareness that neither of you could ignore. When he finished his story, you both fell into a comfortable silence, your knees still brushing against each other.

“Is it me or the twins keep staring at us?” You asked out of the blue, pointing with your head to a spot behind Kiyoomi, who didn't even want to bother turning around—because most likely no, it wasn't you—but still did, finding both twins pretending to look away before going their separate ways, Atsumu bumping into someone in the attempt. 

He sighed deeply, his lips pressing into a line. “Ignore them. They’re just… nosy.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nosy about what?”

His face turned a faint shade of red, and he leaned back, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Kiyoomi didn't want to, but he would tell you the truth. “Probably that I'm talking to a girl.”

You chuckled, maybe finding his bashfulness endearing. “Do you not talk to girls often or something?”

“No.” He said, pretending that the admission didn't make him feel a little embarrassed.

“And is there any special reason why I'm the lucky one?” 

Kiyoomi hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours before dropping to where your knees touched. His mind raced for an answer, but nothing felt sufficient—not for what he was feeling, not for why you had captivated him so completely.

“You're… different.” He finally said, his voice quieter than before.

“Different how?” You asked, your tone teasing but your eyes soft with curiosity.

He let out a breath, his hand brushing against his neck again, “You're easy to talk to. Genuine. And you're…” He stopped himself, shaking his head with a self-conscious laugh.

“I'm what?” You prompted, leaning in slightly, your voice coaxing.

“You're just… you. And I like that.”

Your playful expression softened into something warmer, and the space between you felt even smaller. “That's probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, Kiyoomi.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The silence that followed wasn't awkward—it was charged, alive with a tension neither of you could deny anymore. His hand, resting between you on the couch, shifted slightly, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was brief, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make you glance up at him.

In that moment, something unspoken passed between you—an understanding, a shared want that neither of you could ignore any longer.

Kiyoomi leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring every second leading up to the moment his lips met yours. When they did, the kiss was soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepened as the world around you faded into the background. He wasn't an experienced kisser, he hadn't done it enough times in his life to consider himself one, but he let instinct guide him, following your rhythm. It was slow and even sweet, he could taste the flavor of your gloss. Strawberry. Maybe the same one he always saw you applying in the middle of class and now decided it was his new favorite flavor. 

Kiyoomi doesn't know at what point the kiss became a little more intense. He could feel you pressing into him as you pulled one of your legs up onto his lap. He was so immersed in the kiss that he even forgot where he was, in the middle of a party, on an old couch surrounded by strangers and friends. 

This same realization also seems to have reached you, because at that very moment you broke the kiss. And even though only seconds had passed, he already missed the feeling of your lips against his. 

“Well—” You said, your voice light but still a little shaky. “I think your friends will definitely have something to talk about now.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Let them.”

You looked into his eyes and smiled at him, you looked very pretty with your slightly swollen lips and bright eyes. At that moment, Kiyoomi wondered if this was real or some dream, he was almost certain that his eyes betrayed how madly smitten he was by you. 

“Kiyoomi,” You said, your voice breaking him out of his thoughts.

He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in curiosity. “Yeah?”

Your next words, simple yet charged, left him momentarily stunned.

“Can we go somewhere else?”

—

When Atsumu gave him the key to the guest room, he never thought he would actually use it. But here he was, with a very excited you at his side waiting for him to open the door. He really hoped you wouldn't ask why he had that key, because he knew he didn't want to lie to you as he also knew he didn't want to give you the explanation.  

After he opened the door, he stepped aside to let you in first before passing behind you. And something that caught him off guard was, when he barely closed the door behind him, you were quick to lock it before you put your hands on his cheeks to kiss him again. This time hungrier, more passionate. 

You were a good kisser, too good. And that only made Sakusa more nervous than he already was, he knew what you wanted, he knew where this was headed. And even though he wanted it too, the reality is that he had no idea what the fuck to do. 

His body was tensing up, overthinking the situation. He was not experienced in this area, not at all.

Still, he tried to keep up with you, walking backwards as you kissed him until he fell into a sitting position on the bed. 

In a matter of seconds, Kiyoomi watched as you took off your pink sweater, staying only in your tank top which didn't cover you for long, since you took it off immediately, leaving a very nice white bra in sight. 

It would be a lie to say that Kiyoomi was not hard. Because he was. Perhaps much harder than he had ever been in his life. 

“I really wanted to do this.” You said, and without even giving Kiyoomi time to process what you just confessed, you kissed him again, took both of his hands and brought them to your breasts as you straddled his lap. 

Kiyoomi almost choked when he felt your soft breasts under his palms, but instead of doing something with his hands, he stayed still, afraid to make a move you might not like. 

He was frustrated with himself. He literally had the girl of his dreams all over him, kissing him, letting him touch her after admitting that she wanted to do this and he just did nothing. 

Just relax, he told himself. Let yourself go. 

But his body seemed to betray him again the moment your hands went to his pants with the intention of unbuttoning them, because the first reaction he had was to stop you while from his mouth escaped a “Wait.”

“What happened?” You asked, your brow furrowed, obviously confused by his sudden reaction. 

C'mon, Kiyoomi, just tell her. She's an angel, she will understand. 

“I don't know how to say this.” He mumbled, almost to himself. Still, he took a deep breath, encouraging himself to speak. “I, uh- I don't-” He tried to explain himself, but before he could complete the sentence, you interrupted him.

“You don't want to do this, do you?” You spoke softly, Kiyoomi looked up, meeting your face which had an expression full of disappointment. 

His stomach turned over, no, no, no, no. You had misunderstood. “Y/n, that wasn't what—”

You quickly got up from his lap and bent down to pick up your shirt, “It's okay, I just-” Your voice broke as tears escaped your eyes and Kiyoomi felt like he wanted to kill himself at that moment, “I just want you to know that I'm not usually like this, but, when Atsumu told me that you liked me I thought that— I'm sorry, this is embarrassing.” The words rushed out of your mouth as you put your clothes back on. 

Kiyoomi would ignore (for now) that Atsumu really told you that he liked you literally only minutes after he admitted it, he would kill him later, now his main priority was you and clearing up this mess as soon as possible. 

“Hey, wait.” He said, holding you by the wrist to keep you from turning around and leaving. “I'm sorry. This is a misunderstanding, just, listen to me for a minute.” 

You looked at him silently before turning to face him again. 

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I like you, too much. I've been for a long time. And believe me when I tell you I really want to do it.” He admitted, and before you could say anything, he continued, “It's just that, I’m really fucking nervous. I— I've never done this.” His last words came out in a lower tone due to nerves and perhaps some embarrassment. But there was no turning back now. 

You looked at him for a few seconds, blinking at him before asking, “Done... what?”

“This.”

“Oh. Are you a…” You said, leaving the last word up in the air, but he mentally finished it for you, knowing full well what you were going to say.

A virgin.

“Yes.” He confirmed it. 

You were silent, and although it was somewhat dark, Kiyoomi could tell the shock on your face. He understood. If he were you, he might have been surprised too, since it's a fact that not many people expect. 

Kiyoomi was silent as well, silently mourning for himself. Thinking that maybe he ruined everything and a part of him was afraid that you would make fun of him. But the truth is that he was more worried if you left, how would he look at your face after that? He wouldn't be able to. It looked like he would have to take back the plan to leave that class and move to another country, which was a shame, because everything was going so well. 

His thoughts were interrupted when out of nowhere you let out a chuckle. 

“I'm kind of dramatic, don't you think?”

What? 

“I rushed to think that the reason you were a little tense and decided to stop was because you didn't like me, I never imagined that it was because you were… nervous. I'm really sorry, Kiyoomi.”

“Hey, It's okay, don't apologize. ” He said before taking both of your hands in his, “I should do it for not saying it from the beginning.”

“I didn't even give you the time to do it, I rushed too much, I should have taken it slower. But, I was excited, I mean, I just found out that the guy I like, likes me too.”

Okay, this is the second time you've admitted that you liked Kiyoomi. And wow, it felt fantastic to hear it, it felt so good and surreal at the same time that after all, it seemed that his feelings were indeed reciprocal. 

“I think I ruined the mood.” You said in a chuckle, making Kiyoomi frown. “It's okay if you want to stop.”

He didn't want to stop, in fact, he felt quite the opposite. He wanted to do it, with you and only you. So he didn't think much of it when he asked, “Do you?” 

“Huh?”

“Do you want to stop?”

He watched you bite your lip lightly before responding in the most adorable voice ever, “No.”

“Me neither.”

You looked at each other for a few more seconds before you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring your lips together again. The kiss was slower, and for some reason it felt much more intimate. 

Kiyoomi returned his hands to your waist, now feeling more comfortable enough to caress you with his thumbs before slowly moving down your hips to your thighs, you seemed to understand what he wanted, because you automatically straddled his lap again. 

After the awkward moment you just spent, his erection had softened, but when he felt your center against his crotch, combined with the kiss becoming more passionate, his dick soon got hard again. You felt it, of course you felt it. That must have been why you began to move slowly over him, brushing your sex against his, which caused Kiyoomi to moan against your mouth.  

Kiyoomi by this point felt more comfortable, perhaps more confident, so he dared to run his hands up your sides until he reached the hem of your blouse. 

“Can I take it off?” He asked after breaking the kiss, and you looked so cute when you let out a giggle and nodded before raising your arms as Kiyoomi pulled up the fabric. 

Your bra came back into view, but not for long, as you brought your hands behind your back to unfasten it to let it fall to the side—Kiyoomi thanked mentally for this because he was sure it would have taken him quite a while to remove it by himself—.

The light coming through the window was enough to appreciate you well, which he was grateful for, because he really didn't want to miss any detail of seeing you this way. His thumbs went up to caress your nipples, which were erect and looked too cute. It was a gentle touch first before cradling both breasts in his hands and squeezing them gently. 

“Can I...?” The question was lost in his throat, somewhat shy even to speak during this moment. 

“Kiyoomi,” You said his name, grabbing him by the cheeks to make him look at your face, perhaps so he would be a hundred percent sure you meant what you were about to say, “You can do anything you want to me. If I don't like something, I promise I'll tell you, okay?”

He looked at you for a few seconds before answering, appreciating your face completely, from your eyes to your lips. God, you were so beautiful. “Okay.”

Kiyoomi kissed your neck and left a small peck on your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He took it slowly, running his tongue softly over it before sucking gently, and somehow he felt proud of himself when you let out a little moan and brought your hand to his black curls. 

He took his time, enjoying the taste of your skin in his mouth as he switched from one nipple to the other and finding delight in the little sounds you made until he felt eager for more. When he parted his lips from you, it was to remove his hoodie and t-shirt in one motion, letting them fall to the floor. 

“Wow,” The expression came out of you almost automatically at the sight of his body. Your delicate hands went to his biceps, making a path along his skin, past his shoulders to his chest. “How can you be so hot?”

Your words caught him off guard, so he couldn't help the laughter that came out of him. “You think?”

“Of course, just look at you.” Your hands followed their trail, down his abs to his v-line, at that moment he knew what you would do next. You settled on his thighs, leaving more space between his crotch and yours, then lowered your hand to the noticeable bulge in his pants. 

Kiyoomi almost moaned when you stroked him and almost choked on his own saliva when your thumb circled the tip, god, he knew he was leaking and hoped it didn't feel in his pants. 

It was the moment you squeezed him, that something changed inside him, he felt eager for more, and although he didn't want to rush this, he dared to bring your lips together again and, placing a hand on your lower back to keep you from falling, he turned around to lay you down on the bed. 

When he felt your hands on the edge of your pants, he decided to break the kiss and positioned himself in the middle of your legs to help you complete the action, pulling the fabric gently down your legs to drop them on the floor. Fuck. He gave himself the pleasure of admiring for a moment your beautiful form in front of him, in nothing but underwear, and practically giving yourself to him. If he was dreaming, he will kill whoever wakes him up.

His hands went up your thighs until they reached the edge of your underwear to start pulling it down, you raised your hips to help him and that was the moment where Kiyoomi saw for the first time your pussy. He gulped when in top of that, you spread your legs just as he finished removing the garment, exposing you completely to him, letting him see all of you. 

Now, what was he supposed to do? Sakusa was not completely uneducated on the subject, he knew where he was supposed to touch or even kiss. But he also knew that knowing it wasn't the same as doing it. So he preferred to be honest and let you guide him rather than try to do something he wasn't entirely sure you would like. 

“I really want to make you feel good, but, can you just…” For some reason (embarrassment) the words were lost in his throat. 

“Guide you?” You finished the sentence for him. 

“Something like that.” He mumbled. 

You smiled with what Kiyoomi guessed would be tenderness before taking his hand and guiding it to the middle of your legs. 

The first touch almost knocked the wind out of him and made his erection press harder against his pants, fuck, you were so wet and he could hardly believe it was because of him. 

Sakusa leaned forward with one arm by the side of your head, meeting your face a few inches from his as you whispered to him how to please you. He circled your clit at the speed you liked, thrusting his fingers in and out, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you helped him find, enjoying the moans that came from your beautiful lips and the way one of your hands squeezed his shoulder with pleasure. 

You kissed him the moment you started to cum on his fingers, your legs even trembled and Kiyoomi had never felt so proud of himself. He kissed you with the same desire, not ceasing to give you pleasure until you asked him to stop because of over stimulation. 

“God… you're so beautiful.” The words came out of their own accord as he looked down at you. 

“You think?” You smirked. 

“Every day.” 

“I never thought you'd see me that way, you know?” Those words were kind of funny coming from you. The girl who was the dream of many. Including his own. 

“Why?” 

You shrugged, a playful glint in your eyes as you leaned slightly closer. “Because you’re you, Kiyoomi. Cold, composed, and…” You paused, pretending to think. “Kind of scary sometimes.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. “Scary?”

“You know what I mean.” You teased. “You’re just… untouchable. Like, you don’t even notice anyone half the time.”

Kiyoomi chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “I notice you.”

Your smile faltered for a second, replaced by something softer, something real. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He said. “You’ve always stood out to me. Even when I tried to act like you didn’t.”

You tilted your head, your expression thoughtful. “Why did you try to hide it?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced away for a moment. “Because… I didn't think I'd ever have a chance. I thought you were way out of my league.”

Your laugh was soft, light, and you reached out to gently take his hand. “Kiyoomi, you're ridiculous.”

“Am I?”

“Absolutely.” You said, patting his bicep lightly. “Because if you had just talked to me sooner, you'd know I've been trying to get your attention for ages.”

His eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as he tried to process your words. “You… what?”

You grinned, leaning in just enough that your noses almost touched. “I've always liked you, Kiyoomi. I just didn't think you'd ever notice.”

Kiyoomi stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, before his lips quirked into a lopsided smile. “Guess we're both ridiculous, then.”

“Guess we are.” You murmured, and this time, it was you who closed the distance, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft and sweet, the total opposite of the words that came out of your mouth next, “Now, please fuck me before I lose my mind.” 

Of course he would, his mind and his cock couldn't hold back any longer. 

“Just. Let. Me. Take– Take these off.” He said between kisses as you wouldn't let go, insisting on keeping his lips on yours with your palms on his cheeks. 

Kiyoomi did his best to remove his jeans and underwear in one go without breaking the kiss, but in the end, he had to do so (albeit unwillingly), when the last of his clothes were on the floor and the two of you were completely naked, to say something he remembered at the last minute. 

“I don't have a condom.”

This was bad, unfortunately Kiyoomi didn't carry any with him right now. The only one he used to carry in his wallet (just in case), he ended up giving it to Atsumu two weeks ago at a party, since at the time, the twin needed more than he did. Now he regretted it. 

You looked at him for a moment, processing his words before saying, “I don't care if you don't care.” 

“Are you sure?” He asked, astonishment radiating from his face.

“Very sure.”

Kiyoomi gulped before nodding, nervous about what was coming next. 

He took his cock in his palm, giving himself a few gentle strokes before lining himself up with your entrance. Your hand went to the middle of your bodies to replace his hand with yours and he heard you gasp at the feel of his shaft. 

“God, how— Kiyoomi, are you telling me you're a virgin with a dick like this?”

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a laugh, this was one of the things he liked most about you, how you spoke your mind bluntly. 

“I guess so.”

“Well, I wanted you to put it in in one go. But I guess we'll have to go slow.” You teased, adjusting your hips as you continued to slowly stroke his dick. 

Kiyoomi moaned as he felt your wet entrance meeting his leaking tip. He already felt in heaven and he wasn't even inside you yet. 

He placed both of his arms beside your head, looking down at you as he slowly thrust his hips forward, moving deeper into you. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This felt so good. You felt so wet, so hot, so tight that he had to mentally beg his cock not to cum soon, he couldn't embarrass himself like that. 

He pressed his lips against your forehead, kissing casually as he heard you moan as you took him in. “Does it hurt?” He asked, still with half of his dick out of you. 

“A little.” You admitted and that worried Kiyoomi, who was about to pull out, but you spoke first. “But it feels so good, just keep going, it'll fade away.” 

He nodded and continued to enter you until he was completely inside you. He had to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a moment at the new feeling he was experiencing. 

“How does it feel?” He heard you ask after a minute, your sweet voice filling the silence where only your breaths could be heard. 

“Too good. Fuck. I don't think I'll last long.” He admitted, somewhat embarrassed, but still eager for more. “Can I— fuck—can I move?”

“Yes, please.”

Slowly at first, he began to move his hips, enjoying the feel of your wet walls squeezing him. Kiyoomi couldn't believe he missed out on this pleasure for so long, but he was glad that the one he was experiencing it with for the first time was you. 

He looked down at you, paying attention to your face and appreciating your expressions with adoration radiating from his eyes. How you bit your lower lip, how you opened your lips slightly, how you closed your eyes, how you smiled when you made eye contact. 

You whispered in his ear to go faster, and without a second thought, he complied with your request. He slipped both of his arms under your armpits to hold on tighter and began to thrust so hard that even the bed began to hit the wall. Thank goodness there was a party going on downstairs and the sound of the bed along with the sound of your moans would not be heard by others. 

“Kiyoomi…” You moaned his name, sounding like an angel as you did. Your hands went behind his back, holding him tightly against you and he even felt your nails digging lightly into his skin. He couldn't resist bringing your lips together again, kissing you sloppily as he moved in and out of you. 

He felt you squeeze him as your moans increased before he brought one of his hands to the middle of your bodies, circling messily over your clit, bringing you to the edge. Your legs trembled and a cute moan left your mouth as you came. Kiyoomi also moaned against your lips, you squeezed him so deliciously that he was surprised he didn't explode at that moment, but he knew he wasn't far from it. 

“I'm going to…” The words were lost in his throat as he felt his own orgasm so close. He was panting like crazy, holding you tighter against him as he settled his head in the crook of your neck and his thrusts became more intense. 

“Don't pull out, please.” 

His common sense told him that was irresponsible, but his desire along with how sexy it was to hear you say those words were stronger, because when he least realized it, he was cumming inside you— and it felt good, too good. Nothing compared to the orgasms his hand had so far provided. God, he might get addicted to you after this. 

The room fell into a silence, where only your accelerated breathing and the music muffled by the door could be heard. You both refused to move for a few moments, enjoying the touch of your skin and the vital sounds of each other. 

The dim light slipping through the windows painted faint shadows on the walls, highlighting the way your bodies pressed together. Your skin against his was warm, electric, like a spark neither of you wanted to break. Time felt like it slowed, stretching out as you both stayed perfectly still, caught in the pull of the moment. He could feel your heartbeat under his touch, steady and grounding, blending into the quiet rhythm of your breaths.

“So, how was it?” You broke the silence, stroking his back with your fingertips. 

Kiyoomi couldn't help but let out a chuckle in the midst of his quickening breath, “Mind blowing.” 

“I agree.”

Kiyoomi propped himself up on his forearms, his eyes meeting your adorable face, and he couldn't help but smile softly. He leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your lips before settling down beside you. With an easy, natural motion, he slid a hand to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Now, with your head resting on his chest, he held you with the kind of tenderness that made the moment feel too perfect to let go of.

As the quiet rhythm of his breathing filled the room, Kiyoomi looked down at you, nestled against his chest. He absentmindedly traced gentle circles on your back with his fingers, his mind lingering on the softness of the moment. The warmth of your presence and the steady rhythm of your breathing calmed him, but his mind refused to settle.

He couldn't stop replaying the events of the night—the way your presence had lit up the room, the way you spoke with such ease and authenticity, and how natural it felt to be by your side. For someone who usually kept people at a distance, you had somehow bypassed every barrier he'd carefully built.

The thought made his chest tighten, but not with unease. With something new. Something he wanted to hold onto.

He glanced down at you, his heart catching at the way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked sleepily. He knew moments like this didn't come often—not for him. And he knew it— he wanted more. 

But would you want that, too?

The doubt lingered for only a second before he pushed it aside. Tonight had been proof enough that whatever this was, it was mutual. And if he didn't take a chance, he'd regret it.

Gathering his courage, he took a breath, his voice low and steady as he broke the silence.

“Hey.” He began, the faintest hint of shyness lacing his tone. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”

You smiled, your cheek still resting against his chest. “Not yet. Why?”

“I was thinking…” He hesitated for a beat, then pressed on. “Maybe we could go out. Just the two of us.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Are you asking me on a date, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

“Yeah.” He said. “I want to take you somewhere nice. Anywhere you want.”

You reached up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “I'd love that.”

His lips curved into a small, genuine smile, relief flickering across his expression. “Good. I'll make it worth your while.”

“You already are.”

spoiler: sakusa didn’t know it yet, but atsumu will actually be the best man a few years later.

[comicaurora]

Do you think ethics are just an attempt at being a healthier form of selfish?

In one of your Detail Diatribes where Batman confronts Catwoman and tries to stop her from killing Falcone, you highlighted the fact that his reasoning was not to protect her father, but to try and save her. Ever since, some very strange ideas about the nature of selfishness and selflessness have been rattling around my head.

It only started coming into focus when I tried to put into words why it was a bad thing that D-16 killed Sentinel Prime. My best answer right now is because it made D-16 into Megatron. Orion wasn't trying to save Sentinel, he was trying to protect the cybertronian people. Maybe if Orion focused more on saving D-16, they wouldn't have lost their friendship and all of Cybertron would be better for it. Of course, in the end, Megatron was the deciding factor in making himself, caring more about his pride than his current identity, but this highlights a strange selfish quirk in sustainable selfless behavior.

If you are purely selfless you suffer from spending more of yourself than you have to give. If you're too selfish you can't maintain the human connections that are a requirement for being a complete and healthy person. It leaves the best options as being selfless to make your environment an easier one for you to live in. Where your actions for others are repaid by the selflessness from your community. Or, being selfish with your charity. Taking care of what you care about because their well being positively contributes to your own.

To be fair, the opening sentence now looks like an incomplete thought. It probably should be asking if you think ethics is just an attempt at being a more healthy form of selfish and selfless. Really, just asking if ethics is meant to make you better at being a person, which seems like a question that can answer itself. Still, it feels like an important insight to highlight that to be ethical isn’t about how much of your own life you're willing to sacrifice. It's hard to be a good person when you're not a person anymore.

This is a fascinatingly deep question, and I'm very tickled that our two touchpoints in it are a transforming robot tank and Batman.

My personal opinion is that ethics and morals are not reflections of some universal truth of Justice and Goodness, as they are often framed, but are instead best-practice guidelines on how to function in the big, messy world without causing undue suffering to yourself and others. A facet of this is determining, case by case, how much you need to prioritize yourself vs how much you can afford to help others - in the framing you've proposed, selfishness vs selflessness.

Taking the specific examples we're focusing on - two cases where someone attempts to prevent a revenge killing for the benefit, not of the victim, but of the avenger - I think they reflect this worldview, that the killing is not seen as some innately universally-judged evil act that must be prevented for its own sake, but that the act of killing will harm the killer in a way the person trying to stop them doesn't want to see.

For Catwoman, committing premeditated murder wouldn't solve any of her problems in any way that arresting Falcone and having him legally unraveled would. It'd just park a first degree murder charge on someone who'd up til this point only dealt with petty larceny, and it would potentially weigh her down with misery and regret as she grappled with the trauma of taking a life.

For Megatron, killing Sentinel Prime wasn't a bad action because he deserved to live. They just spent that whole fight scene tearing through enemies. They're warriors on track to spend the next four million years killing each other; the whole "taking a life" ship has already sailed. The problem is that Sentinel is a symbol and a structural part of the political narrative in the founding of the next stage of Cybertron's society. If the first thing the new regime does is bloodily avenge itself on the face of the old regime for the personal wrongs it did them, that proves that the only thing they care about is personal satisfaction of their individual desires - just like Sentinel. Meet the new boss, same as the old boss. If they can instead take a step back, think of the good of Cybertron as a whole, enforce a rule of law and a fair system of justice that applies equally to everyone, even on someone they personally loathe, that would signify integrity and credibility and the hallmark of wise, just and fair leadership capable of setting aside personal feelings for the greater good. It's not about Sentinel; it's about whether the satisfaction of killing him is worth the price of enforcing forever that personal vendettas are more important than the well-being of the people of Cybertron. Which makes it really obvious which one Megatron is going to pick.

My hottest take, and I mean this very genuinely, is that most of the human perception of what constitutes goodness and justice is one thousand percent based on vibes, and is extremely susceptible to narrative reframing. We see an unsympathetic victim (Sentinel Prime, Falcone) who has gleefully caused suffering to innocent people (so judged because they are framed sympathetically, not because we've actually enumerated their lifelong actions to determine they've never done anything wrong) and we feel (feel) that it would be right and just for them to suffer consequences (emphasis on suffer) because that would balance the scales on this vibes equation and that would make us feel like justice had been served. Would this suffering lead to any material good? Not inherently. Would it heal the victims? Not usually. Would it remove the source of the problem? Categorically not, what with how negative reinforcement works (or rather does not work.) It also wouldn't do anything about the other people empowered by the same system to be just as shitty in just as many ways that just happen to be offscreen from our POV. But it feels fair. So what is justice, if it reduces down to "I want them to hurt for the hurt they've caused me"? If it can be sated with a spectacle or distracted by a long nap and a good joke to let the feeling fade? What purpose does this justice serve if it is devoted wholly to the satiation of a bone-deep chordate-brain hunger for Retributive Violence rather than towards actually ensuring that the lives of those harmed are healed and supported and built up again after being broken down? (This is the entire core character arc in The Batman, btw, I'm not just monologuing for no reason here. He calls himself Vengeance for a reason, and the reason is he's doing Batman wrong)

That feeling - that white-hot burning core of Righteous Fury - is the unexamined heart of many systems of morality that focus, not on doing good, but on exacting satisfying retribution on Bad People Who Deserve It, categorized as People Who I Can Hurt Without Feeling Bad Myself. It's a very tempting concept for people who have suffered at others' hands. That feeling, that powerful instinctual understanding of "that's unfair," is incredibly strong. In my opinion, most systems of ethics are built, not around relitigating what is Good and what is Bad per se, but in trying to shape and curb that bone-deep, unbelievably powerful desire to rend the flesh from the bones of your tormenters.

But I mentioned that feeling is susceptible to narrative reframing. This is, as I understand it, a huge part of lawyering. Tell the story of what happened using true events and adding no falsehoods, but highlight the parts that make it feel like your client is the one who is being treated unfairly. They're not an unsympathetic wrongdoer who you can punish without personal moral stain - they're a loving spouse, a parent of three adorable children, they have a really cute puppy, they donate to charity, they're a wonderful conversationalist, a kind friend, etc etc. All those things can also be true of people who do terrible things, but thinking about them defuses that White Hot Core by making us sympathize with the sympathetic parts of them.

This is incredibly well-understood in fiction. It's the whole reason the tropes Kick The Dog and Pet The Dog exist. When you want the audience to root for a character's destruction, leave aside any of their potential quiet moments of sympathy - their tragic backstory, their cute pet, their adorable relationship with their mom - and instead show them going out of their way to commit some minor act of petty cruelty, say Kicking The Dog. The audience will infer that this badness is 24/7 and they have no reason to curb their enthusiasm for Righteous Vengeance. But if the writer wants the audience to see a spark of good in them, to sympathize, to believe they can be redeemed, they'll highlight one of those small moments of charming kindness, and allow them to Pet The Dog instead.

Neither of these acts, in the grand scale, have any bearing on the morality of this person's actions. A pet dog doesn't counterbalance a razed village; a kicked dog doesn't negate a generous contribution to the local soup kitchen. Goodness and badness is not a linear scale added or subtracted to by opposing deeds. BUT showing them to an audience reframes them narratively, and THAT is what shapes the judgment of the White Hot Burning Core. In the space of fiction, this form of bottom-shelf emotional manipulation is one of the cleanest ways to get the audience to root for the messy destruction of what is ostensibly, in the universe of the fiction, a wholly complex and living person who definitely has reasons for everything they've done, even ones that could be framed sympathetically when shown.

Meanwhile, in the real world, ethics are an attempt to judge what is best in a given situation without trusting the White Hot Burning Core to make the call, no matter how compelling "but it would feel really good though" might seem. They try to give someone perspective, context, other priorities to consider. The White Hot Burning Core might want you to rip someone's arms off for driving slow when you've got important places to be, but Ethics can present a number of compelling reasons not to do that - even if it's just "ripping their arms off will definitely make me even more late." And yes, this can be a balance of Selfishness Vs Selflessness. You are one of the people whose wellbeing ethics is designed to make you prioritize improving even if it feels weird, and when all other things are equal, your own health and happiness can be the deciding factor. In a world with an overarching Moral Force that weighs the goodness of your soul by sifting through every grain of action and intent seeking negativity to punish you for, absolute selflessness to the point of self destruction would still probably be seen as Morally Wrong, simply because the universe is a better place with you in it trying your best.

Anyway, if doing the right thing was simple, easy and painless, we probably wouldn't have so many thousands of years of arguing about what it looks like. Good luck out there everybody 👍

[beeseverywhen]

Oversharing time:

Just remembered years ago when I was working in a pretty high up office block and they were having to write a fire plan cause my knees are pretty resistant to stairs and management's answer was just that I wait in the burning building until a fireman came to get me, to which I was pretty much like 'yeah I don't think so. I'll make do with the stairs.'

They were really touchy about this and were like 'we need to account for your disability, we can't leave you to do stairs by yourself when we know you might not be able to' so they wanted me to pick a 'buddy' as in a colleague that would evacuate by my side. So i pick 2 of my friends (one as a backup) and the manager is still like 'but what if your leg isn't working that day what do we do' and she's also like 'I didn't even know you knew him, why is he your first pick?' So I'm like, look off record, I've picked buddy 1 for a reason. He isn't my closest work friend but I do know he's capable of carrying me down the stairs if necessary and the manager is like, have you asked him if he can do that? And I'm like. No. I know he can. Don't sweat it.

And she's going look, I know you're small but you can't just assume that any man is capable of carrying you down multiple flights of stairs, he could have a weak back and I'm like, look I 100% know he can carry me, trust me. She kept questioning it until I was eventually like 'look I know he can because we are friends outside of work and he has carried me, easily, before' and tried to shut down the convo.

This unfortunately seemed to raise more questions which was awkward because in reality we were not particularly close friends in or outside of work, it was just that I'd been lowkey fucking him on and off for years (in that messed up early 20s, we could make each other worse kind of way) and knew that he could very easily fuck me standing up for an extended period. We were not friends because we didn't particularly like each other lol but I did trust that he would not leave anyone to burn in a fire, and that carrying me down those flights of stairs would be no sweat off his back

[notsodelirious]

everyone seems to think jason is this big bad dom who's kinky and teasing and all that shit

NO??? PLEASE??????

let me tell you, jason as big as he is, he's just as soft and WILL melt the moment your fingers graze him ANYWHERE

bro starts whimpering even at the mere THOUGHT you touching his dick, but would never bring it up cause he's scared you'll reject him and be disgusted

so he puts on his mask, kisses you, teases a bit, and then backs off as if nothing happened

but the moment you do initiate anything with him? he's gone, left, away

he can't help but pour all his love into you, it's almost emotional

he's so touch deprived and needy for any kind of positive attention and affirmation that he has to will himself to not cry when you look at him with so much love in your eyes, much less when you want to show him just how much you love him

AND GOD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE KISS THAT MANS SCARS

HE MIGHT ACTUALLY START CRYING

he has always been so ashamed of them, so scared you'll run off the moment you see him, all of him (especially about the autopsy scar)

so the moment you stay instead? the moment you stare at him with adoration and litter him with kisses, saying how beautiful he looks? IM SORRY, HES GONE

him and the puddle on the floor? same thing

yearning is this mans first language and I stand by it

I've been seeing so much of dom Jay so please let my boy be soft😭

(tim, on the other hand, is exactly what people think jason is, mans a little snarky piece of shit everywhere and always, and i love him as he is)

(also sorry for the rant, got carried away a bit 😅)

absolutely no worries about the rant Anon, I love your way of thinking <3 sorry this took so long but I hope this answers your prompt

Look at me — Jason Todd

synopsis — you love Jason, even if he doesn’t believe you’ll love every part of him

notes — NSFW MDNI pretty please, also so long and so not edited, so apologies (edit — has been proofread, somewhat, but still not edited)

tags — established relationship, mentions of canon death, mild blood and injury, smut as mentioned above, 2.5k words, no use of y/n, gn!reader, Jason calls the reader “baby” and “babe”

The first time you see his scars, it’s completely unintentional. You run cold so you’re constantly turning the heat up in your apartment, far beyond what Jason thinks is reasonable. He complains, but you can’t help but note he’s a big guy, ‘obviously he’s not going to feel as cold as you do’.

His complaints continue, even after you’ve settled down to watch a movie, moaning about how ‘it’s so damn hot in here, it feels like a sauna’, and then proceeds to pull his hoodie off. You didn’t mean to stare as he tugs the offending piece of clothing over his head, but his shirt rids up just the slightest bit. Just enough to reveal a gnarled pink scar across his hip bone and a sharp, clean but raised scar right down his lower abdomen.

You’ve always assumed he has scars—he’s a vigilante; you’ve seen him come home limping more times than you’ve seen him get a full 8 hours of sleep.

Besides, it isn’t as if you’ve never seen any scars on him. He exists in t-shirt and the skin there is littered with scars of all shapes and sizes, from gunshot wounds to knives to mosquito bites. You’ve treated the occasional surface wound on his face or leg from time to time. You had seen his skin and he’s shown himself to you.

But that doesn’t stop you from staring.

This is different.

Only as the realisation that you’ve never seen him shirtless dawns on you, that you start to consider why that is.

You almost reach out to brush your fingers against the raised skin but he manages to dislodge himself from his jumper before then.

He tosses it onto the floor, kicks it out of the way just enough so neither of you will trip on it. He pauses briefly when he notices you, your stare. You tug his shirt down before he can even consider the movement himself, covering the sliver of skin that had been exposed to you.

You sit, in complete silence. You aren’t waiting for anything, you simply have nothing to say as you continue to watch the movie. A shaky hand reaches for yours and you can’t help the warmth in your heart when you feel his lips rest against the back of your hand.

The second time, you don’t even see anything at all. Another movie, a little less attention paid to it, as Jason kisses on you, your cheeks, neck, lips. You laugh softly as you let him, gently running your fingers through his hair, smiling at him as he comes up for air.

“What are you smiling like that for?”

“I just happen to have the prettiest boyfriend.”

You almost miss how his cheeks flush softly in the dark room and you laugh a little louder, pulling him down for a kiss as you straddle his lap. You let your hands roam, feeling his broad shoulders, arms and back as he dissolves beneath your touch, like sugar in warm water. You smile against his lips as he sinks into the sofa, soft panting a little too frantic for the slow-paced make-out session.

“Is somebody flustered?” you joke kindly as you tilt your head to lean against his cheek, hands on his hips and tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Don’t know what to do with yourself?”

“Please…”

You pull back just enough to see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his eyes practically crossing all to look up at you, and watch your face.

“Please?” you repeat softly, as your fingertips brush against his lower stomach, feeling the muscles tense and twitch at the featherlight touch. “What are you asking for, baby?”

Your fingers creep higher, following the raised bumps and lines you can feel on his skin, under his shirt. He shivers, a soft moan slipping past his lips as you reach his pecs. You lay your palms flat against them, taking great joy in squeezing them gently and making Jason’s heart pound faster beneath your hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” you said, sly as you kiss his jaw, down his neck to press your lips to his pulsing jugular.

“I- please, I-“ You can’t help the breathy laugh as you move downwards, leaving tender, open mouth kisses along his throat, sucking his skin here and there, revelling in the soft moans and whimpers that slip from the back of his throat. Almost instinctually, his hips buck against yours—you hum, amused, before grinding back against him, feeling him tremble beneath your ministrations.

“I-“

Your hands continue to feel under his shirt, around his ribs, down his waist, down his sternum-

“Stop.”

You freeze, pull back and look at him.

“Jay?”

“I just-“ he swallows as he looks at himself, then at you, as if debating whether or not he should finish the thought and explain. Eventually, he just wordlessly shakes his head, pulling your hands out from beneath his shirt, “No.”

“Okay,” you kiss his cheek before sliding off his lap to settle beside him. You don’t understand what’s wrong, and as curious as you are, it’s not like you’re going to push him for an answer.

Jason is many things: loyal, kind, loving, a dickhead—but emotionally vulnerable and open is not part of that list. Pushing him to do or say anything leads to a quick dismissal at best. And an outburst at worst.

Jason would come to you in his own time.

That time happened to be a week later.

It’s a long night, he forgets himself. He climbs in through your window, tries to be as quiet as possible. But tonight, he forgets himself, shuts the window behind himself just a little too hard and the frame rattles softly. He doesn’t notice you stir or the soft mumble as you roll onto your side, too focused on trying to shed his leather jacket. Through bleary eyes, you can just about see him move about the room, hearing him curse silently.

The bathroom door closes before the lights flick on. Cupboards open and close, more cursing. You slip out of bed, recoiling a little at the cold floorboards beneath your feet, and pad towards the bathroom, knocking softly before pushing the door open.

“Jay?-“

“Shit-“

You freeze at the sight of each other. His bloody shirt is on the floor, staining a couple of your white tiles a vibrant red. Medical supplies are strewn across the counter, medical gauze packs ripped open and a suture needle halfway set up.

And Jason was…

A large gash spanned from his ribs to his hips—at least from what you could from beneath the bloodied towel he was holding his wound.

“Jesus, don’t you knock-“

“What happened?” you ask instead, rushing forward to help him staunch the bleeding. He groans as you apply pressure but doesn’t push you away, letting you come up close to him. You chance a peek beneath the make shift compress, trying to not pull a face as you convince yourself it’s not as bad as it looks.

“I’ll stitch you up,” you say softly as you look around the bathroom—the suture kit that he had already pulled out isn’t sterile anymore, you’ll have to take out a new one… “Go lie down, I’ll…” You trail off as you look up at him, meet his distant gaze as he stares down at you, almost unseeing. “Jay?”

He blinks and the afterimage of fear you saw flicker across his face is gone, face falling back into something more impassive.

“Lie down,” he mumbles, “Yeah… yeah, sure.”

He slips away from you, most likely a little dazed from the bloodloss. You’re itching to know how he got to that point, who could have gotten close enough to slice him like that but you shelve all those questions for later and begin to prep from wound care instead to go make sure your boyfriend doesn’t bleed.

You return to him minutes later, with an unopened first aids kit and clean hands and kneel beside him, from where he was sat on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to…”

“Horizontal, babe,” you say softly as you nudge him. He settles as you flip open the kit and start cleaning his wound, apologising quietly for every wince and sharp breath.

Stitching him up is simple enough—his pain tolerance terrifies you but you don’t utter a word, just make sure to get the job done as swiftly and painlessly as possible.

You cut the last stitch, roll off your gloves, dump the whole thing on the bedside table—unsanitary and dangerous but your hands are trembling a little too much and your nerves a little too frayed from worry to truly care.

“Okay,” you swallow as you press a piece of clean gauze against his fresh stitches, “Sit up, lemme bandage you up.” Jason complies as best he can, muscles flexing under his skin as he sits up for you and you shuffle closer to wrap clean bandages around his midriff. You try to solely pay attention to the task at hand but now that nobody is in danger of bleeding out, you can’t help but let your eyes wonder across his bare torso. They trace the scars that litter his chest, linger on the large Y, carved from beneath his collarbones, joining at his sternum before disappearing beneath my bandaging.

“Sorry,” he says in a small voice. You tuck the end of the wrap into itself before you look up at him. He doesn’t look back, expression almost sheepish as if he were embarrassed. “I’ll put a shirt on-“

“Don’t.” You climb up onto the bed, straddling his thighs as you cup his face, “You’re gorgeous.”

“Don’t say that…”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“You told me you didn’t finish the ice cream last week.”

Your laugh rings clear in the still bedroom as you lean forward to kiss him.

“Well I’m not lying now,” you whisper against his lips. The kiss is slow, tender, as you both pour your souls into each other. “You scared me shitless.”

“Sorry-“

Your fingertips graze along the large scar on his chest.

“I’d ask you not to do it again but you probably will, won’t you?” He nods as he follows your hand, breathing deepening ever so slightly as you feel him. “Guess I’ll just have to enjoy you while I have you here.”

“Babe…”

“Shh,” you push him down carefully, avoiding his injury. “Just let me take care of you.”

His sighs are soft as he follows your lead, letting himself be pushed and pulled around. You kiss him, in a way only a devotee can worship their deity, lavishing him and devouring him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

You move down his body, from his jaw to his neck. Your tongue runs along the straight scar there—you wonder what happened. You always wonder. But some stories were better kept for quieter nights.

Your lips and tongue brush along his skin, tracing every jagged scar you come across.

“Babe…” he moans breathily as he squirms ever so slightly beneath you, resisting the urge to buck his hips against your body.

“Is there something you’d like, handsome?” You smile as you thumb his nipples, your glee only growing as he whimpers, arching his back into your touch. You pinch them, tug them, make him squirm and pant harder. “You’re so needy, aren’t you?”

“Baby, please-“

You leave hickeys on his chest, following the large scar down between his pecs.

“So desperate.”

“Babe-“

You bite his pec, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make him keen and buck his hips against yours, making you groan in turn. He grinds his covered hard-on against your crotch, seeking any friction he can.

“You need it, don’t you?”

His nodding is furtive and eager and your heart sores while your hand creeps downwards, following down his happy trail and dipping past his waistband.

“What do we say when we want something?”

“Please,” he whimpers as he looks up at you, adoration and desperation pooling in his deep green eyes. Tears brim along his waterline when you finally wrap your hand around his cock, warm and heavy against your palm. “Please. Please, please, baby, please-“

You tug him out of his underwear before you slowly start to pump, running your thumb along the head of his cock, teasing his leaking slit with the pad of your thumb.

“Such a polite boy,” you purr just as you sink lowered, kissing the scar on his hip before nuzzling your cheek against his cock. “Stay still for me, okay baby?”

You don’t give him any more warning before you’re sinking down on him, taking him into your mouth, wrapping your hand around what you can’t reach. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back up, bobbing your head on his dick as he moans and whimpers above you.

“Baby, baby, fuck-“

You hum in response, vibrations running through him making him shudder. His fingers tangle in your hair as suck his dick, gripping you like he’s unsure whether he wants you to stay or go.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, babe-“

You look up at him from beneath teary eyelashes, blinking up at him as if you aren’t choking on his dick. You pull away, making him whine in protest but you don’t cave, continuing to jerk him off.

“You wanna cum, handsome?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, I’m- please.”

You lick the precum pearling from his tip before you swallow him down again, grinning at the soft wail and tightening grip. You feel more than hear the moment he tumbles over edge, thick cum shooting down your throat. You swallow before you can choke, but tears gather in your eyes, leaving you sputtering and coughing slightly when you come up for air.

“Good?” you ask softly as you wipe your face. He mumbles unintelligibly as he nods, strong arms finding your shoulders to drag you closer.

He mumbles something about returning the favour later, but you just laugh quietly as you pull him against you, resting his head against your shoulder, so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say as you run a hand through his hair. Only to pause as you bring a hand up to your mouth, pulling a hair out of your mouth.

Jason freezes before chuckling softly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind hair in my food,” you quip back cheekily, which only makes him blush.

“Jesus.”

You kiss the crown of his head as you snicker.

“Go to sleep, handsome.” You run your hands along his back, tracing idle patterns against his skin, on his collarbones and shoulders.

“They’re from my autopsy,” he mumbles softly as he tucks himself against you. “From when I died…”

You hum, but don’t speak.

Afraid that maybe you’ll uncover the dread blooming in your gut.

You’ll ask later, is what you tell yourself as you watch Jason yawn, and promptly slip in a heavy, restful slumber.

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

(holy shit was this a doozy to write; I usually never write 2k words in less than 48 hours but I hope your enjoyed <3)

[the-flaneur]

you've pavloved me...hmph

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: you've been with your boyfriend for so long, that when he goes, you can't seem to cum...aka who's most likely to accidentally pavlov their partner into only coming when they're there

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

not likely to pavlov them

lance

bro does not have the energy to fuck with you like that

in his mind

why bother

he just wants to have fun with you, and you can also have your own fun without him

then so be it

no need for any tricks

franco

has too much fun with you

thinks he's too good in bed, so why should he bother trying to manipulate what you think of him

and in his mind, it would also mean that you wouldn't genuinely think he would be good in bed

and so he can't have that

you must think he is the best

and of your own accord

pierre

thinks you should also be able to please yourself without him

besides, he likes the photos you send him when you're pleasuring yourself

so he would NEVER want to pavlov you

cause then he also has to deal with a grumpy you when you can't cum

and he doesn't get anything out of it

zhou

too much of a sweetheart to be that mean to you

like he hears you cry, moan or whine ONCE about not being able to cum without him

and then he's like "im sorry baby"

and then there's happy and fluffy makeup sex

esteban

also another sweetheart

but only cause he hears you complain in very very vulgar words what you would do to him (aka fuck him up) if he didn't let you cum without him

and he can't have that

so in order to please you

he promises to never pavlov you

and then you're both happy and satisfied

oscar

wouldn't pavlov you

for the sole reason that he finds this kinda shit stupid

he's like

"babe we're in a relationship, i can't really be demanding and/or withholding things from you,"

he's just a gentleman

also morbidly thinks about if he were to die, does that mean you just can't cum anymore?

(apparently lando said yes, so that means yes)

kevin

would think about it for like two seconds

then feel very VERY bad that he thought about manipulating you like that

thinks it's "unethical" (some of the other drivers would think otherwise, duh)

thinks about from time to time (it's his mini roman empire...maybe like the byzantine empire level of thoughts)

but cares and loves you too much for that to happen

maybe one day???

valtteri

would actually consider it

BUT would bring it up with you and consider your thoughts on it before he even tried to manipulate you

if you wanted to try it: he would make sure that it was a sound/action you wouldn't embarrass yourself too (he has too much self-respect and respect for you to out your relationship like that)

if you didn't want to try it: would back off respectfully, and maybe only ask a couple more times in the future to see if you've changed your mind

yuki

would try it once after hearing about it on the internet

gets very confused as to why it's about a dog? and not a relationship?

then once pierre explained to him properly

wanted to just try it once with you

similar to valtteri, would also ask you first if you wanted to do it, but would try to convince you to just "experiment"

like a bit more like "baby, can we try it just once please. you won't even realise it,"

could be successful (ig depending on you)

charles

finds this stuff stupid

well at least most of the time...

if you just so happen to be in the right place at the right time

for him to exact some revenge after you not so accidentally posted a thirst trap of him on your instagram account

then so be it :D

would pavlov you to the sound of him saying "fuck" in that very specific cadence when he's pissed at ferrari

liam

bro would only and ONLY pavlov you to the sound of mcqueen's kachow, just so you actually WANT watch the cars movies with him every weekend

instead of complaining that he can't actually be obsessed with the red car every SINGLE FUCKING WEEK

otherwise, he's a chill guy

lando

would only do it to tease you about it

and in a funny way, not a mean way

like a "guess you're just that needy for me sometimes babe, just kidding (teasing)" kinda way

BUT would be absolute menace about it if it happened multiple times in a row

AND ESPECIALLY if it happened in front of someone else

like max f accidentally found out the sound (aka the sound of lando's pc booting up - idk how that happened man)

and then immediately went bright red, as lando cackled his head off, and you just went to hide in the bathroom

max

would pavlov you

only cause he hates missing out on having sex with you

and he actually really misses you during the race weekends

(my boy is just a massive simp, cut him some slack)

so he wants to withhold your pleasure

just so he can be the one to give it to you

(would also pavlov you to super max or du du du du max verstappen)

alex

pavloved you cause you bullied him too hard that one time (aka multiple times)

you called him a pussy for not being able to handle spice in green curries

so he calls you a pussy in return, over the phone, as you huff about not being able to cum when he's not there

and he'll even turn off the call/facetime before you manage to convince him

so you're just horny and pissed off

(aka the best combo for angry sex when he returns)

checo

desperately trying to rewrite his place in 2024 red bull constructors shithousery

so why not rewrite how you experience pleasure with him too

it's a 2-for-1

and for the mexican cartel/sponsors, that's a done deal

sealed, stamped and sent

nico

shockingly higher than you may think

BUT

THIS MAN'S CHEEKY GRIN

tells me that he would plot everything, down to the last detail

and get away with it cause he's so damn handsome and smooth talker

but flops cause he's sometimes a bit too meticulous

and takes the focus away from your pleasure, and instead focuses on your combined pleasure

cause he just loves you (and himself) like that

carlos

would also pavlov you to the smell of chilli

or other very nice aromatics

or scented candles

makes him the kinda romantic partner to pull up to the hotel room or bedroom with that massive like set up

with a bajillion candles, rose petals and balloons

except with you

it's just like the very potent smell of chilli

and apparently (?) chilli's help with sex drive

or so he tells you

george

initially i was going to put him lower

BUT GODDAMN AFTER THIS THURSDAY HAHAHAHAH

this man.

if he has an agenda.

he will push that agenda so hard, even if you were blind, you could see it and hear it

also probably learnt the "tricks" from fernando

cause they're just buddies like that

(would also pavlov you to the sound of the british anthem)

lewis

this man is a smooth AFFFFF talker

would take like zero convincing for your body to suddenly become pliant/completely at his mercy

would also manage to convince you to pavlov yourself to the sound/recordings of senna's mp4/4 or his w11 or the v10 engine

(he's just a slut for good cars like that)

or him like singing

CAUSE HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN SHARE THE MUSIC WITH THE REST OF THE WORLD (so there's no way anyone else would know)

but if he did release that music (lewis please, just even a snippet is gold), you're kinda screwed (in a fun way)

fernando

this man knows what he's doing

that's final. PERIOD.

he is THE certified mind games genius (or villain/psychopath, up to you)

dont think just cause you're his partner that doesn't mean he won't use your love for him to make sure that you both achieve maximum pleasure when you have sex

(he is still entirely devoted to you, and you only)

but he wants you to ONLY be satisfied when you're with him

he just wants your body to know that ONLY he, and him ALONE can make you feel good

pookie is in his feels for you

(bro would also be into edging, so yeah)

would also pavlov you to his victory celebrations, cause when you have sex, it's basically a party in the sheets ;)

they know what they're doing

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