#just trying to make things a little more organized here

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Seven: Reunion

warnings: breast play, smoking cigarettes, mentions of male masturbation, slight awkwardness from both parties pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: summer is done and you return to school for the next semester. though you are a little nervous about being around Kento, he shows you that he's made some changes. and those changes are all to your benefit. a/n: SO SORRY for the literally month long delay! I so hope everyone enjoys this chapter! More to come soon, that I can promise. This series gets finished this year, I promise! also check out the soundtrack for this fic here!

taglist: @cherryblossombankai @kenpachisbrat @benkeibear

@harlekin6 @brokennerdalert @marikuchanxo @gennaray

@sugurusprettygirl @hazzelle-kento @pixelcafe-network

Masterlist

Summer passes by in a flash. And though everyone is sad to see it come to an end, you’re more than happy to make your way back to university. After the phone call, you and Kento tried your best to stay in contact all summer long, but it wasn’t always easy.

So when the first day of school comes around, you find yourself fussing over your looks more than usual. You had spent the last few days in your dorm, fixing up things and placing posters in the right spots. Despite your parents wanting to spend even more time with you, they had done their job helping you settle into your dorm room once more.

Then once the reality of everything dawned on you, that’s when you began to realize that you were actually going to see him again. Kento Nanami, the man who stole your heart. You wondered if maybe things would go smoothly. But on second thought, you were sure that there would be lots of awkwardness at first.

Even just thinking about the phone call made your stomach turn. It had been so sensual and sexy; truly something to remember forever. Just the sound of his voice had you going. You remember just how sticky your fingers had been as you played with yourself to the sound of his gorgeous voice.

And when he came, he had moaned so beautifully. You missed the sound of his voice. You missed his timid but cute smile. The smell of the cigarettes he smoked. You wanted to wear his hoodie and show the world that you were deeply in love with Kento.

So the first day back to class, you resolved to talk to him. You were going to make sure that you at least said one word to him.

The issue? You found yourself even more shy than before.

Both of you had clearly put a lot of thought into your looks today. You don’t think you've ever seen Kento so dressed up like this before. His blazer was properly ironed, his hair was actually out of his eyes for once and his skinny jeans didn’t have any holes in them.

You had also bought some new clothes for class. You were hoping that he would notice. It wasn’t like you to wear a dress, but this one had been just so beautiful. The long sleeves hugged your arms, which you always hated to show off. It came down to your shins. The color was such a dark black, and it only proved to make you look much more mature than you thought yourself to be.

And yet, despite the new clothes and the renewed sense of wanting to talk to one another, it just never happened. Too much talk of the syllabus and class planning and other people catching up with one another. You longingly looked at Kento from your spot across the room. You swore you caught him looking at you a few times as well, but you didn’t want to believe it.

The first few classes went by in a blur, and you held out hope that you’d talk to him. Every single second, you thought about what you’d say first. But nothing ever came up and you just couldn’t find the right time.

So as the first day of the second semester ended, you were mentally cursing yourself for being so ridiculous. How could you not just go over to him and say hi? He was just a man, not some alien from outer space trying to harvest your organs.

“Girl, you need to just go talk to him.” One of your friends said as you left the last class of the day.

You two are walking towards the dorm building. The way she could just read you so well was what made you nervous. If she could see it written all over your face, could everyone else see the same?You shrug; you’re without answers.

“He’s over there. Now go!” She shoves you in his direction.

You make your way over to him, your whole body shaking as if you were a child afraid to go down the slide. He looks up from his notebook, and there’s a soft smile on his face when he spots you. You approach him and clear your throat.

“Can I sit with you?” You inquire, pointing at the empty spot next to him on the bench.

Nanami blushes. “Y-yeah! Sure, sit down.”

You sit on the bench, watching as your friend gives you a thumbs up. Then you turn to look at Kento. He’s still writing in his notebook, but when he feels your eyes on him, he closes it.

“Hey, uhm…” you start but he interrupts you.

“You look good. I like that dress on you.”

His words turn around in your mind for a bit. Your cheeks are burning. Even though he just complimented you, you feel like all eyes are on you. You bury your face in your hands. 

“Wait, what did I say? Did I say something wrong?”

You shake your head, finally uncovering your face. You reach over and kiss his cheek, which in turn makes him blush now. You two look like a couple of kids in love.

“Thanks, Ken. You’re a gentleman.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I’m just me.”

A comfortable silence falls on the two of you. You reach over and grab his hand, making his blush further onto the tops of his ears as well. He looks at you with such a soft and tender look in his eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“I really missed you this summer,” you confess.

“I missed you too.”

Your eyes lock with his and then he’s leaning in. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your cheekbone. Then Kento leans in to capture your lips in a tender and loving kiss. Your breath hitches in your throat, but you melt into the kiss.

It’s almost like all the feelings you had for him were spilling out into this one kiss. When he pulls away, you’re the one chasing his lips this time. He smirks as a sudden wave of confidence washes over him over that little move.

“So,” he says as he fishes his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He places one on his lips, then one on yours. “We should go out on a date.”

You smirk as he lights up both smokes at once. “Deal. Time and place?”

“Friday night, your dorm.”

That’s all it took for you two to plan a quiet night together.

Friday night comes around and you’re more than nervous. It feels like it’s been forever since you’ve hung out with Kento. Just knowing how things will go, your heart keeps fluttering in your chest. You’ve done all you can to keep calm, but it’s proving to be almost impossible.

The knock on your door has you getting up off the sofa and rushing to the door. You smooth out your shirt and swallow hard before opening the door. Kento stands there, looking more confident than ever. He hands you the beautiful bouquet of wildflowers.

“Wildflowers for my beautiful wildflower.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. Here you were thinking you’d have to start from scratch with him, but it seems like the time you two spent apart seems to only have pushed you two even closer together. You take the flowers and invite him inside.

“I ordered take-out,” you tell him as you smell the flowers.

He comes over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You feel the definition of muscles against your back. Kento nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nipping so softly.

“I’m glad we decided to do this,” he whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all summer.”

You blush and smile. “I feel the same.”

He lets you go, allowing you the chance to put the flowers in a vase. You place them near the window where they can get lots of light. Then you return to your lover, guiding him to the couch. On the coffee table is a spread of your favorite foods.

“You really planned out everything perfectly,” Kento says.

He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. You giggle as you rest on his chest. The food is quickly forgotten in favor of sweet, but chaste kisses. The kisses that turn into something hungrier and sloppier.

“It’s finally time for me to make you feel good.” He whispers as his hands snake up your shirt.

You moan against his lips as he plays with your breasts. He tugs on your nipples perfectly, making need pool deep inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, continuing his ministrations on your chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. Kento pulls away only to be able to pull the garment off your body.

With your breasts bared to him, Kento shifts on the sofa and adjusts his hardening cock in his tight jeans. He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes on.

“My beautiful angel,” he moans as he cups your breasts. 

His lips trail all over the swell of your tits before he captures one of your nipples between his teeth. The look of love in his eyes has your stomach erupting with a million butterflies. You’ve never felt this way before.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groans. “Jerked off to thoughts of you all summer, baby.”

The thought of him stroking his cock to the thought of you has your panties drenched. You part your thighs a little, allowing one of his hands to slip down the front of your sweatpants. He smirks when he realizes you’re also not wearing panties.

“So wet, just for me.” He murmurs against the softness of your chest.

His fingers work you up quickly to your release. Your breath hitches in your throat as the coil in your stomach is tightening so fast. There’s so much warmth inside of you and it spreads all over as Kento rubs your clit in perfect little circles.

He stays attached to your nipple, suckling and flicking the pert bud with his tongue. The look in his eyes is intoxicating, especially since he looks at you like you’re the perfect sex goddess made just for him.

“K-Ken,” you moan. “I’m cumming.”

He doesn’t even have to say anything. He watches you as you come undone. Your cheeks warm, your lips parted as you moan his name. Your thighs are shaking from the intensity of the pleasure. And he loves the way your nipples are so hard right now.

Slowly, he helps you come down from the intense high. Kento smirks when he pulls his fingers from your pants and they are covered in your juices. Something changed within your lover, and it’s for the better.

“Told you I’d make you feel good next time we saw each other.” He says as he licks his fingers clean.

“And it was good to count down the days.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[slenbee]

nadahusien

Scam account - nadahusien

Type of scam: image theft + fake gogetfunding campaign

How/why this account is a scam:

As pointed out by @kyra45 in her post about this account, the images the gogetfunding are using have been taken from a gofundme campaign that was originally posted on March 31st, 2024.

Left: the gogetfunding campaign / Right: the gofundme campaign

Also, I need to point out something very very obvious which to me points out that this is a scam. (I know I shouldn't call non-paypal accounts a scam but... stay with me, this takes the cake.)

In the original (real) gofundme campaign, it says this:

Hi, I’m Nada and I am organizing this fundraiser on behalf of my friend Walaa, and her family. This is Walaa’s story: I'm Walaa Jameel from Gaza, a pharmacist and a mother of five children. The youngest, Nour, is now two years and ten months old. I've been living in a tent in Rafah since the start of the genocide war on my city.

And in the gogetfunding campaign (the scam).. it says this:

Hello! Y'all it's Nada from Gaza, my little daughter Nour has hydrocephalus and seizures, we are now in a tent in very bad conditions, and every thing destroyed our house, hospitals and physiotherapy centers.😔

Do... do you see the glaring red flag here?

In the original gofundme campaign Nada (spelt Nada Husien btw) says she is the friend of Walaa, who is the daughter is Nour.

In the gogetfunding campaign Nada (spelt Nada Hussien) says she is the mother of Nour.

Not only that but there is nothing stated in the gofundme campaign that they needed to make a gogetfunding campaign to get additional funds. Something that most people would do if that were the case.

They also claim to be:

Vetted by: @gazavetters @nabulsi @el-shab-hussein @sayruq

But none of these accounts have shared this gogetfunding campaign that I could find via a reblog of the suspected scammer's pinned post.

Also that tumblr account joined on December 23rd, so it isn't that old, and they reblogged nonsensical stuff and then shared their post.

In addition (as I'm typing this post) helpful scam anon just dropped this bombshell of evidence (thank you scam anon!):

in August of last year another documented tumblr scammer, al-rasher, also pretended to be Palestinian and linked to this same exact gogetfunding account that nadahusien is now using, which you can see in this archived reblog of their fundraising post: https://archive.is/Ed8Av you can see how this gogetfunding account appeared on August 25th here: https://archive.is/LeG4u Notice the title, “Donate to Help Rasher’s family evacuate from Gaza, Organized by Margaret” and that the account was created by Margaret Opiyo, and the campaign story describes a mother named al-Rasher and her family. Here you can see how this same exact fundraiser appears today, edited to fit nadahusien's use: https://archive.is/mNX0V The title has been changed to “Donate to Help my little daughter Nour to facilitate the treatment,” and instead of Margaret Opiyo it has been organized by Nada Hussein, and the campaign story has been completely changed to describe Nour. i haven’t yet mentioned the url of this gogetfunding account. it reads “escape-gaza-mallycahs-family-needs-your-support” here is yet another documented tumblr scammer, mallycahblog, calling themself Mallycah and pretending to be Palestinian and linking to this same exact gogetfunding account that al-rasher and nadahusien use: https://archive.is/dj1pG

Some more evidence from this helpful anon can be found here.

Wow... Just.... wow.

Shame on this scammer trying to use an innocent child for their gain.

Again, as a note: I cannot vet or verify accounts running gofundmes/gogetfundings as being legitimate, as I'm not an organization or someone who can- in good faith- do that. I just can't, so please don't ask me about doing that.

But it's people like helpful scam anon here that help gather evidence like this so we scam busters can call these people out and let others know about it if there's enough evidence for it to be considered an actual scam.

----------

Please report the scammers fundraiser if/when you have the time, and remember to not harass or mass report them on tumblr. That's not what this post is about. This post is to bring people awareness about this being non legitimate.

Always do your research folks!

Stay safe!

Here's a post on some tips and tricks on spotting scam blogs.

Helpful guides on how to spot scams. (by @kyra45)

Current list of documented scammers: Part 3

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

Warning: blink and you have a giant doc worthy of flashbacks but moving the story forward is a hassle to you, huh? this is a self critique. I guess in the end we do write what we want to read, there's no escaping our kinks.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 9: 500 days of Azriel - part 2

DAY 348

“Hold for me!”

The feminine pitch echoed in the parking lot, bags fumbling against her ribs and sneakers thumping in concrete as she ran for the elevator, Azriel using a hand to keep the door open.

“Good morning, sexy.” A slightly out of breath Elain greeted him coming into view, a messy braid swaying from one shoulder to the other.

“That’s no way no greet your boss.” He stepped aside, allowing her to enter. “Don’t mimic me.”

“I wasn’t gonna,” Elain denied mid eye-roll, mouth already twisting to repeat his words. “I wasn’t! Gosh, you’re stiff from sunrise to sundown, and not in the fun way.”

Ignoring her blunt lie Azriel took the heavy black bag containing a heavy camera support from her shoulders and pressed their floor number.

“You chatter from sunrise to sundown, and don't see me complaining.”

Her braid slapped him in the chest, Elain turning to look at a him, mouth hanging open as if she could not believe her ears.

“Are you freaking kidding me!?! Of course, you do! You complain about it all. the. time!”

“Nah, that doesn’t sound like a me thing.”

“Unbelievable. Hold this.” she muttered pulling the light orange scrunchie from the end of her braid, nimble fingers combing through her hair to undo the thing. Azriel slipped the accessory in his wrist, watching she bang her head from one side to the other.

“Are you trying to get messier?”

“I’m giving it a sexy spin. You wouldn’t know nothing about that miss my-mommy-combs-my-hair-every-morning.”

A couple more shakes and she was done, picking her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and opening the camera app, moving her neck this way and that to check herself.

“Say My girlfriend is the sexiest in the whole world!”

Azriel frowned at the blinding flash lights coming out of nowhere.

“A little warning.”

“I like organic moments. And you never come out looking ugly anyways. Is infuriating.” She moved closer to him, opening her phone gallery and proceeding to show him the picture.

Azriel barely paid attention to himself, eyes fixed entirely on Elain, mapping the constellation of freckles framing the bridge of her nose and puffed cheeks pushed upwards by a big smile. Then her finger was swiping on the screen, showing him three more photos she managed to snap in succession

"Look at my lazy eye! Christ, even glaring you look good. Never managed to catch up with an open mouth, eyes rolling, sneezing, poking your nose, nothing! It’s like you are prepared every goddamn time.”

He chuckled at her indignation.

“Why do you take so many pictures?”

Elain shrugged.

“I like documenting stuff. Stuff that catch my attention.”

“Everything catches your attention. You have the attention span of a hyperactive toddler.”

“Oh, shut it. I bet you have some weird photos in your phone, you probably collect feet or something. Where is it?”

A sneaky hand quickly found its way to his front pocket, Elain made sure her eyes were wild open to taunt him. "My, my, is this phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

She didn’t wait for him to answer, taking the phone out with a false victory cry.

“What’s your password? No! Let me guess…. 0828?”

Her question caught him by surprise.

“You remember my birthday?”

“Sure! How could I forget you’re a tight little virgin?” Elain pumped her eyebrows up and down, getting an eye roll as response. “Wait a minute,”

“Here we go.”

Azriel stepped out from the elevator making away to the rented shoot set, not bothering to check if Elain was following. He knew she was. She would never pass an opportunity to tell him whatever nonsense she had come up with.

“Now that I think about it… does that mean I get to pop your cherry?” She gasped exaggeratedly, placing a hand in her heart. “Do not worry Marino, I’ll do right by you, I’ll give –”

“All right now, let’s not. 1234. The password is 1234.”

Elain typed the password clicking her tongue, a fake expression of disappointment fixed in place.

“Christ, you’re a grandpa. This is a terrible password, too easy to remember.”

“That’s why I put it.”

“That’s why is bad.”

She went on and on about him being an old guy who was not deserving of technology, Azriel not really paying her much attention until she squealed like a guttered bunny.

“Oh my god,”

Elain exited the gallery and return dozens of times, thinking his phone may had malfunctioned or something. Nope, the phone was working just fine. She waved it in his face.

“Why are there no pictures in here?”

“There are.” Azriel said nonchalantly, jerking his chin at the few images appearing in his gallery.

All impersonal and irrelevant, mostly pictures exchanged throughout the day in Marinos’ group chat. Elain shook her head in denial.

“I mean personal pictures, pictures of things you captured with your camera because you liked them, not because they are in a vision board from next month’s issue.”

Azriel frowned in confusion

“Why would I take pictures? I can just look at the things I want.”

Elain let out a dramatic gasp, hand to heart and everything. Before she could berate him a chirpy blonde fellow approached them.

“Morning boss. Morning El. What me to set you up?”

“Morning Tommy. You can take the bag from the handsome.”

Nonchalant, Azriel dropped the bag in the boys arms not bothering to make the transition easy, Elain’s assistant for the day nearly collapsing under the weight. Azriel watched the new intern struggling not to drag the bag away.

“I don’t like him.” He said serious. Not an ounce of strength in those arms. He would not last.

"You don't like anyone."

Morning El.

"I specially don't like him."

“Are you a serial killer?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

"This is not normal."

His phone was pushed on his chest and then Elain was back on her phone, frantically swiping her fingers across hundreds of pictures gleaming in the bright screen. Literally hundreds. She gave him the phone and Azriel kept scrolling. Different shoots of ice cream, juice, pizza, donuts, pasta and other food related items passed by.

“Are you setting a portfolio for a culinary magazine?” he joked.

Elain slapped him in the arm, the aggression changing to a caress when her fingers splayed over his shirt, curling around his covered biceps.

“God, you’re big. Strong too.”

“Open space. Office hours.” He chanted, not bothering to remove her hand. Once could say he flexed a little, but Azriel would firmly deny.

“I know. What were we talking about?”

“Food.”

“Yeah, food… I could eat you up.” She sighted lost in a dream.

“Elain.”

“I said food gives me joy.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. Judging by her phone gallery, everything gave her joy. Parcs, dogs, kids, houses, rain, trains, books, fresh laundry. Eventually, his employees began to fill the screen as well, goofing in their spare time, posing in the allocated sets with some model, posing with props, taking mirror selfies, cataloging material in their reunions, then it came him. Azriel clicked on a couple pictures of him taken recently, face serious and sleeves rolled upwards as he examined a variety of reports covering the meeting room table. He turned to Elain, questioning her with a look

"You look good when you are focused." She shrugged. “By the way, you don’t have to make the intern cry. I know you don’t believe it, but it is possible to treat people nicely and not die on the spot.”

Azriel sighed deeply. Never a single topic with this one. Elain’s mind had a tendency of jumping from one subject to the other, the conversation never floating in a single direction.

“I’m not running a daycare, Archeron. I’m their boss.”

“I know that. I still think you can be less of an asshole,” suddenly, she pointed a finger at him saying, “and praise! Everyone likes a little praising every once in a while. You never praise anyone! It’s absurd.”

“When one of them do something worthy of my praise, they’ll receive it.” A bit of silence passed, and Azriel could feel Elain starring a hole at his face. “What?”

“It’s that your kink? Making someone working hard for your praise?”

The more his ears turned red, the playful glint in her eyes shining brighter. Where Azriel wasn’t one to make jokes or sexual innuendos in public, Elain used them as a second language, not ashamed to shoot her shot any time. At first he thought he hated her jokes, annoyed at how inconvenient she was. Later, Azriel realized his annoyance came from the fact that he was not able to quip her with a response, a fitting rebuke only coming to mind when it was already too late.

“Do you like receiving it or giving it? No matter, I guarantee I can satisfy you either way.”

“Nope. I’m done talking with you now,” he announced walking away from her. “I have real work to do.”

“I work too you know! I make the stars in this set shine!” She yelled after him. “Have a good day, lover!”

DAY 424

“All I’m saying is you can tell me. I’m your brother, for fucks sake.” Cassian whined loudly from his chair, legs shaking like a goddamn toddler.

“I’m not talking to you.” Azriel said from behind is computer.

“Come on, bro. All I’m asking is a little bit of gossip from how are things progressing with our sweet little Lainy. For example, has she taken your virginity yet?”

"She's not yours anything." Aziel said monotonously, not bothering to give his brother too much attention. “And I am not a virgin.”

“Men don’t count.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure our Lainy won’t –”

“Not yours.”

"Agree to disagree. Since you decided playing this fake dating shit, she sure ought to be my something." Cassian taunted. “Come on Az, I know you are not dating her. You can come clean now, I won’t judge. Much.”

Azriel watched his brother, his restless hand tapping against the armrest, the smirk that didn’t quite meet the eye. His brow furrowed.

Azriel and Cassian had a complicated relationship in boyhood, having to relearn how to navigate around each other once they were adults. The boys weren't in speaking terms for two years of their late teens and the majority of their twenties. When they were seen together at last, everyone assumed the brothers made piece to take over the family business because it was the natural outcome for them.

In reality the biggest reason behind Azriel’s return to America was Marinos wasn’t as profitable as before. While Azriel followed Morrigan across the globe her modeling career took flight but his grandfather got sick, and Cassian –who had always been the favorite for choosing to learn the finance trade– took over the family publishing business, only then discovering the trojan horse his favorite relative had left him. Their grandfather’s entire publishing business was facing bankruptcy, the magazine being one of the remaining divisions that still hadn’t gone under.

By the time he asked for Azriel's help, it was too late to save most of the branches, but Azriel did his utter best to save Marinos –a fashion magazine originally envisioned by his mother that no one ever really cared about. It cost him four years of strenuous hard work, twenty percent of the shares sold, multiple department changes, function extinctions and staff rearrangements, and the woman he thought it was the love of his life gone, but Azriel got Marinos back to its feet.  

Azriel watched his brother, the nasty memory of their split replaying in his mind. It would be a lie for him to say pettiness wasn't what guide him to drop himself -almost- on top of Elain Archeron on that night. The woman had a massive crush on Cass, and knowing his brother's ego as he did, Cass was probably nursing said crush to act on it. That night Azriel’s drunken mind conjured a reality where if he was lucky, he would make his brother a little jealous, just enough to give him a bit of satisfaction. A petty payback for succeeding in doing what Azriel never could.

“You are awfully interested in my girlfriend.”

“Am I?”

Seeing his brother show such blunt display of interest in Elain gave Azriel a couple emotions, and satisfaction was none of them. It doomed on his mind that he had become attached to Elain rather quickly, because playing petty games Morrigan and his brother didn’t seem so interesting anymore.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, Cassian sneer daring him to submit, to speak first, to cry and beg and plead for his brother to leave him alone as he would do when they were kids. Azriel wasn’t a kid anymore.

Cassian opened his mouth, and Azriel would never hear what he was about to say. Two knocks on the wood and the brothers broke their staring contest as a twirling Elain made her way into the room, the skirt of her dress swaying around her legs.

“See? I told you it wouldn’t wrinkle! I’m all ready for – Cassian.”

Her eyes grown bigger mid-sentence, surprised to find his brother there, same brother who wasted no time in placing two finger on his mouth whistling loudly.

“I'm ready for you too. Looking good, Lainy.”

"You're back."

Azriel watched her expression change from mirthful to bashful. He wondered if she was feeling shy of embarrassed. He hoped it was the latter.

“Yep, and just in time to make your wishes come true. I’m not Santa, but you can sit on my lap and tell me everything you want. I'll give it to you."

“Christmas in long gone, Cass.” She snorted.

“Oh, a daddy is never of duty,” he winked at her.

Elain suppressed her giggle, Azriel gagging all the wall to the coach hanger. “You are disgusting.”

Cassian ignored him, all smirk and bravado as he got up and moved toward Elain, malice radiating from every step. He appraised her from head to toe. It was a rare event to see Elain in a dress. Glittering eyelids matched the cleave-free green dress that stopped a few inches above her knees, white flats completing her look. His eyes returned on her knees, his smile dropping, replaced by a frown. There, pinkish than the rest of her skin, laid a perpendicular scar dividing her knee in half, stretch marks from the stitches leaving the skin heightened in a standing position. Cassian had never noticed that scar before. He wondered if it was new.

Elain cleared her throat, a blue jacket appeared in his line of sight as she repositioned the piece of clothing in her arms to cover herself, uncomfortable with his stare. Cassian smiled at her, deciding it was best not to ask about it.

“So, where we going?”

He offered her a hand, the promise of a kiss in his eyes. Elain had always loved the kisses he deposited in her hands and cheeks, lips lingering on her skin to enjoy the squirm she thought he couldn’t notice. He did notice, every time. Cassian loved making her squirm, delighting in her little crush.

For the great shock of a nation, Cassian had not fucked Elain, but now that his brother was he wondered if he had missed some kind of swift opportunity.  Elain wasn’t ugly, and it had been a long time since he found a match to his twisted sense of humor. What a delight it was that her sense of humor came wrapped in a package with a killer pair of legs, which should definitely be exposed more often. His look drift to her chest. She didn’t have much in that department but that didn’t matter much, he was more of an ass man anyways. No, Elain wasn’t ugly at all, and Cassian liked looking at her very much.

She could dress better, tho. He preferred his women with smoked eyes, sexy dresses, thigh slits and high heels. Women looked very fuckable in heels, all perched ass and tits pushing in his direction. He loved it.

Brown eyes sparkled with joy, a pretty smile blooming on her lips as she raised her hand. Except she did not place it in his expecting one, no. A harsh push forced him to the side, Azriel replacing him to take her hand, a light kiss landing on the back.

“You looked lovely.” He complimented taking her from the room. Not bothering to say goodbye to his brother, choosing to forget he existed all together.

"Good enough to eat?"

"Behave."

"Only 'cause you asked, love."

Contrary to Azriel, Elain had not forgot Cassian was there.

"We are going on a date!" She shouted back at him while Azriel walked faster to get her away from his brother. Cunning bastard.

Cassian watched her wrap her other hand around his brother’s flaccid biceps, smiling as she murmured softly to him. His expression faltered for a second. What was so funny about Azriel’s sad lack of mass muscle? Fixing his face, he jogged towards the couple, reaching them near the elevator, meddling in the middle to keep them apart, an arm around his brother and the other around Elain.

"Now this is a development I had not seen coming. Lainy, is this some kind of bet gone wrong? You can tell me if it is, as his boss I have the power to set you free."

"You are not my boss," Azriel pipped at the same time Elain said, "We are good."

Under his arm, Elain shrugged.  Azriel breaking free to go stand at her other side, pulling her by the waist till she parted from Cassian.

“This makes no sense. You are two fight like dogs… Is little Azzy threatening you?” Cassian concluded at last. “Is that it? You can tell me if he is, I’ll beat his ass for you.”

Elain simple laughed.

"Please, like he could handle me. Did you know that my sister,"

"Is a professional MMA fighter." Azriel finished the sentence in her place, winning an ugly glare. "Yes, he knows, everybody knows. You've mentioned it. Several times."

“Meddlesome.”

“Broken record.”

“Maybe he didn’t know.”

“He knows.”

“How do you know? You’re not entitled to everyone’s knowledge.”

She bumped him with her hip, Azriel not moving an inch, and turned to Cassian.

"Anyway, your brother confessed his undying love for me, and how all that stress was his way of demonstrating affection. Like a little boy pulling the pigtails of the girl he thinks is pretty." She sighed deeply. "I knew my irresistible charms would get me in trouble someday."

"I'm right here." Azriel reprehended pulling her closer.

"Oh my, you are here, love? You are so pretty for a second there I thought you were a painting." She slapped him lightly on the cheek, Azriel grabbing her wrist on the second tap.

“No hitting.”

”Why? Is it that your kink?” She asked using a tone Cassian could not distinguish, as if she was sharing an inside joke with his brother.

The elevator doors opened, his existence completely forgotten by the couple bickering as they walked inside and off they went.

DAY 489

Had someone told him he would be outside his girlfriend’s apartment, making out against a door like a couple of fucking horny teenagers, he’d have called the bloke mad. Now here he was, being the mad man himself. One side of her overall had unbuttoned, the metallic piece rasping on the wood as Azriel pressed Elain harder against the door, two bodies merging together.

The goodnight kiss was supposed to be gentle, a tender caress to remember till he saw her again. Azriel would be gone for a couple days, and Elain insisted he walked her upstairs before he left.

“I’m not coming in,” he warned her back in the car.

“Just walk me to my door, that is.”

“I will. But I’m not coming in.”

“Gee, you said that. I just want to give you a proper goodbye,” she said with false innocence.

Liar.

Once upstairs she invited him inside again, but Azriel would budge.

“Fine. Can I at least get a kiss?”

He gave her a peck.

“Goodnight, Elain.” He said knowingly. Azriel called her by last name to annoyed her, a petulant childish trait that he seemed to have absorbed around her.

Determined hands wrapped around the lapels of his suit, Elain tiptoeing to tug him down.

“I wear black and white you think I'm a nun? Don’t you dare leave after giving me this slob sorry excuse of a kiss Azriel, or I swear to God –” Her empty threat was swallowed by a kiss.

Azriel wouldn’t admit to a soul, but riling her up was fun. Their breaths mingled in a slow and sloppy kiss, Azriel walking her backwards up till she hit her door, a painful hiss drowning on the slow sleek of his tongue. In the many days following their agreement Azriel and Elain had kissed many times, which had him quickly learning that she was a frenetic kisser, aggressive in her necessity to take the lead in a succession of hurried uncoordinated motions as someone who was ready to torn her clothes apart, moving too fast as she often did in every other aspect of her life.

Like a caveman first discovering fire, he enjoyed her enthusiasm with an intense amount of male pride burning in his chest. The problem was his body was still recovering from the aftermaths of a bad love. Until Elain, Azriel had only ever loved one woman in his life, had only ever been with her. Sure, he had been on a date here and there when things went south and they broke up for a few days of weeks. Pity-dates set by friends who could not understand why a twenty-something hadn't had a single girlfriend in his entire life, pity-dates set by worried familiars who secret thought him homosexual.

He remembered being set up with solid young women whose personalities were nearly a mirror of his own, having forgettable dates where he couldn't, for the life of him, recall what they talked about, kissing some of them goodbye with a lie ready on his lips that they should do it again. Tepid kisses that were closer to a handshake than caress between possible lovers. He went to bed with none of them.

Looking back, it was almost laughable how he caught Morrigan in an intimate act with another men more times than he liked to count but had never managed to move forward with another woman himself. Too hung up in a promise she had no interest in fulfilling. Now Azriel was done chasing a woman who had no love to give him, but his body was still fearful of getting with someone different, someone new.

He needed more time to adjust, time his volcano of a girlfriend seemed to not need at all. Tenacious hands found their way inside his jacket, running wild all the way from his hip to his neck, pressing him harder against herself, her soft breast rasping against his dress shirt with every move she made. So he had to educate her.

Where Elain was a trashing hurricane, Azriel was a placid running river, moving with deliberate slow and steadiness, guiding the kiss to a less hectic pace, leisured wet tongue kisses mingled with soft peck to stable his breathe, strong hands shaping the outside of her body without being too brazen, bold enough to soothe his curiosity in caressing her body but enough to blur the lines he wasn't ready to cross.

Hands moved to him front, trailing down from his chest to his waistline, closing precariously around his belt to get him closer. Azriel stopped the kiss, pulling away slightly. Blown-wild pupils had nearly encased the entirety of her irises, a breathless Elain looking up and expectant at him.

“I want to see you naked," she hushed. Quiet words spoken in a frenzy, a solid request with no shyness in the borders.

Despite his efforts to mellow the kisses, his heart thundered inside his chest. The feeling of soft curves molding perfectly to the hard shapes of his body making him dizzy. He collared her neck, not to choke, just to hold her in place.

“What would your neighbors say?"

Azriel meant to sound playful, calm. He sounded lustful and agitated.

Elain watched him like a hawk, searching his eyes for a bit, noting the tension in his shoulders, the uneasiness in his strained smile, a quiet tell for a question she would not ask. Not yet. With a yielding sigh, she hid her face in his chest.

"She’d probably thank you, that lady is a pervert,” came her muffled reply. “We could put on show for her.”

"Is that your kink? Exhibitionism?" His smugness could not be missed, Azriel feeling pretty proud of himself for the quick thinking. Elain had been antagonizing him about kinks for weeks, now it was his turn to make her hot and uncomfortable.

"Dunno. Wanna help me figure it out?" He groaned lordly. Of course she wouldn’t stay down. “I bet she’s more kinky, tho. Did you know she watches porn without headphones?” She lifted her head again, face soured by the memory. “We do not have good soundproofing walls, Marino. Sometimes I can hear it as I'm climbing upstairs!"

Azriel chuckled, moving his hand to her face, his thumb making circular motion in her cheek. Even at night Elain seemed to glow, her supple skin calling at him, begging for a stroke, for a touch, for a kiss. So soft and so, so,

“So pretty,” he finished out loud. The unsolicited compliment turning her face red.

She recovered quickly, fully leaning into his hand to say, “I’m prettier naked. Wanna see?”

“Out in the hallway?” He challenged mildly.

“Out in the hallways.”

“For everyone to see?”

“Eve-ry-one.” She said secured. “But mostly you.”

“You are confident."

“Maybe I am an exhibitionist.”

Azriel laughed quietly, cradling her face in both hands now, a kiss landing in her forehead. Having known Elain for over a year, Azriel has lost count of how many sexual innuendos he heard coming out of her mouth. He was mostly shocked at first, mildly annoyed later, and full-on done with them once Cassian joined the mix, an insufferable nasty match that could put hookers to shame. Then he asked her to date him, and Elain perverted agenda had seemed to find a new single target: him.

Azriel would have been caught by surprise had he not been so used to her being deliberately inappropriate. Elain wanted to have sex with him and would spare no efforts to make sure Azriel understood that, but Azriel was scare to correspond because he wasn’t sure of how his body would react with a new partner.

Truth be told, he was scare he would not react at all.

“I’m sorry.”

"If you apologize for that I'll feel like a predator." Elain grimaced, exhaling in defeat. "It’s all right, rain check on exhibitionism. This is actually a very good choice you know, I remembered I'm wearing an ugly beige bra."

Azriel gave her one last kiss.

“My favorite color.”

“You would, wouldn’t you? You do seem like a guy with a boring favorite color.”

DAY 500

Her shirt had been distracting him all afternoon. The darned thing wasn’t even a sexy one, just a simple white cotton t-shirt with a stupid drawing of potted plants having a conversation.

Azriel used her jeans belt loops to turn her around till her ass was pressed on the table "You are fun, but funny, tsk tsk. Funny is a big stretch."

His fingers dug in her in waist, cutting her cognitive abilities, stopping her from registering the insult. "Cute shirt."

Elain looked down on her white tee design, where two potted plants were having a conversation. One saying, "Aloe, how are you?", the other "Hey, long Thyme no see."

"Thanks."

He traced her lower lip, muttering. "No lipstick, today?"

Her tongue darted outside, meeting the pad of his thumb. "Didn't want to smear you."

"Glass walls. Office hours." Came his low warning.

The usually cool space of the meeting room now felt like a glass furnace, his body burning from the inside out.

"Technically, we are past office hours.” She countered with a sassy tone. “I'm friends with Marie, you know, the cleaning lady. She gave these glass walls an extra glow this morning, I can guarantee you'll find no germs in it. Now, if you wanna put some germs in it, I have a few ideas about what we could press there. Who. You. could press there. But I should warn you, the dress code suggestion may get a little skimpy."

There was no hidding his smile now, except he wasn't amused. His smile was wicked, smoldering hazel eyes hiding delirious promises. Azriel cleaned her saliva over her cheek, finding her neck. Before he could rip a page from her book and make a nasty suggestion of where to put her tongue next, knuckles rapped on the wall, a voice calling for him.

"Az."

Azriel blinked, relaxation morphing into anxiety. He didn’t recognize it at first. The voice that had not called him in a while. Her voice.

“Az?” She tried again.

Blood drained from his face. Azrriel didn’t move. Couldn’t move. The sound of clicking hills filled the unnatural silence, and he knew he could not escape any long. It would come any time now.

"Az... Azriel."

There it was. The trembling call, the crying in her voice. He withdrew from Elain completely, no wanting to soil her with the disgust leaking out of him. Taking a deep breath, Azriel faced Morrigan at last.

“Hi,” she said with trembling lips.

He didn’t greet her back. Didn’t bother too.

"Can we talk? Please. I really need to speak with you."

His heart beat faster. Beneath his skin a new kind of emotion began to shimmer, rageful and blinding, so overwhelming he didn't process Elain's soft "I'll give you a minute," didn't felt the comforting swipe of her hand on his back before she left them alone.

Elain left him and Morrigan stayed.

“I missed you. I’ve called and called and you did not answer me. You know I need you,”

Morrigan was talking.

Morrigan was talking to him.

Her mouth was moving and he had no fucking clue about what she was saying.

Azriel couldn’t listen to a single word, too busy watching her. Watching her meticulously painted cherry red lips. Not a smudge in place, not even when a tear slipped past her black-lined eye the red did not smudge. She remained perfectly put together. He followed the lonely tear all the way to her chin. From there, Azriel kept going, descending to the gold choker around her tanned neck, to the strapless blood red jumpsuit that left her arms and neck uncovered but protected everything else all the way to her ankles, finishing in the black stilettos that made no more noise because she hadn’t move an inch.

Azriel would have easily fell for it in the past. The watery eyes, the singular tear drop streaming down her cheek, the trembling lips to make sure each word came out a little shaky, just enough to make her look pitiful, careful to still enunciate them properly for him to understand every word.

Words he'd latch on, let it sink, let it drown him in guilt and misery and a feeling of longing for a relationship that never existed outside of his head.

Now that he didn't listen to her, Azriel saw her. Her well-manicured coffin nails, the sunglasses on top of her head, the lasted Dior jumpsuit draped over her body. Nothing in her posture or clothes showed a person suffering as she claimed to be. 

Azriel saw Morrigan and it saddened him how easily it was to manipulate him.

To let himself be manipulated.

“Are you done?” His question was cold, cutting her sob story in half.

Morrigan sniffed, big brown eyes looking pitifully at him until she saw his resigned expression. His lack of will to entertain her. That's when her face changed, her real self breaking through the cracks of the insecure and pitiful persona she was trying to play. She looked at him regal and feral, Morrigan looked at him with the uttermost conviction that she could bring him back to her world in the snap of her fingers.

"Are you done?" she repeated back at him. Voice clear as water.

"I'm done with you."

"Stop this bullshit Azriel, we both know you don't have it in you." She pulled a small hand mirror from her purse, padding the area beneath her eye where a second tear was coming down. "I've entertained you long enough. It's time for you to go back to where you belong."

"And where would that be?"

"Beside me."

Azriel was stunned for a second. Then he was laughing, howling even. His laughter was a sad thing, carved from disbelief. He must have misheard her. Behind me, that's where she meant. Behind her, after her, pinning for her like a dog while she lived her life to the fullest not bothering to give a fuck about him. Azriel ran a hand over his hair to pull the edges hard, moving on to rub his face furiously. No, no, no. He wasn't doing this, he wasn't going to entertain her anymore.

Sharp nails carved a path on his forearm as he tried to pass by her, Morrigan grabbing him with all the strength she could must.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"I'm talking, Azriel."

"I'm not listening, Mor."

Azriel held her stare, all the love he once felt turning into an ugly thing inside his chest. She held him harder, nails sinking deeper. Her voice reflecting every ounce of authority she deem to exercise over him

"I'm talking, Azriel. And you're listening."

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

lowk FUCKED up, butttttttttttttt would any of the comic book yanderes lobotomize their darling? we always talkin about willingness and shit saur... ya know!! just a lil off the top if ykwim

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒…

!!! GN reader, take a wild guess (lobotomies), neurological terms used, basic delusional behaviors, unethical uses of superpowers, unethical practices in general, mentions of brain dead/vegetative/mentally handicapped reader, Hal’s part briefly describes actual lobotomy procedures, Joker jumpscare in Harvey’s, gaslighting, a small history lesson here and there, themes of forced drug abuse, Tim Drake being a good candidate for the Saw franchise.

GRRRRAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHGHHHRRR. Anon, come over here so I can give you a lil forehead smooch. I’ve always wanted to write a yan lobotomy blurb, but… I didn’t really know what direction I wanted to go. Or who to write about. The idea is was legit, “hee hee, wouldn’t it be silly if there was a yandere lobotomy fic” and that’s about it. So I guess this is my chance to get some feelings out about that, yay!!

A few of these are a bit longer than usual cuz this type of shit is my jam. I also didn’t know if you wanted me to rank them on least to most likely, so shoot me a follow up ask if that’s what you wanted. Mwah!!

Bruce Wayne: Definitely not off the table. I’m willing to bet Thomas Wayne had at least one book on lobotomies; just an antique hardback that makes for an interesting read. I can see young Bruce sitting on his father’s lap in the study, tiny hands tracing over the book’s old diagrams as Thomas lovingly describes all of the morbid things they’d do to people (you know, classic father/son bonding activities). Who knew it would actually come in handy one day? Moral repercussions be damned, my man can pull off a sick lobotomy. There are of course factors he has no control over — such as your own brain plasticity and cognitive function — but that’s not exactly his fault, now is it? What your brain decides to do post-lobotomy has nothing to do with him (jokes aside, he’d be devastated if you were totally fucked up afterwards… though he’d easily adapt).

Bucky Barnes: I think he’s had enough mind-meddling of his own to give this a hard pass. It doesn’t matter how bad you are; he’s not doing anything to your brain. You’ll learn to behave on your own accord. And thank god, cuz bro would NOT make a good brain surgeon. He’d brick you so fast. Also, fun fact, the Soviets were actually the first to ban lobotomies (if memory serves correct; Google is backing me up, so… do with that what you will). I don’t know if this carries over to the KGB and their little secret evil organization side shenanigans, but yeah. Let it be known that the chances of lobotomized Bucky went down by… like… 3%.

Clark Kent: At first, I was about to say no, but then I remembered the Justice Lords from the JL cartoon, and… you know what? Maybe. It would be a very low chance, but if it’s gotten to the point where you’re a danger to yourself, Clark would have no other choice. What else can he do? Your safety always comes first and foremost. While the two dots singed into your forehead would raise a few brows, it’s not like he lets you out much anyway. He’d spend a long time trying to cope with the guilt. He did this to save you… he just had to save you from yourself. At least his heat vision is precise enough that he wouldn’t fuck it up. Now all that’s left to do is hope that you turn out okay. He’ll consider it a job well done if you can at least still smile at him.

Dick Grayson: He really isn’t that much different from Bruce, is he? Yeah, he’d do it. Maybe with a few more reservations, but he’d still do it. I think it’s in your best interest if you don’t let him spiral this far, because he’s not against the idea of you being in a completely vegetative state. Yeah, it would suck that you aren’t as active of a participant as he’d want you to be, but having complete control over your care is good enough for him. He’ll easily let his own delusions fill that void. Honestly, a part of him might even hope you turn out with a mental capacity of a toddler. It’s the best of both worlds; while you can still respond to your environment, you also rely heavily on his care. Perfectly pliable in his hands… a dream come true! Yay!

Hal Jordan: Nah. He’s good. Last he checked, he’s not the most qualified person in the world to quite literally poke around in someone’s brain. Hell, even the thought of it makes him sick. No drilling holes into skulls, no skewering needles through eye sockets, no thanks! He’ll leave that up to the people who can stomach the grosser shit. Now, is the thought of a quick operation that theoretically fixes your bratty behavior tempting? Sure. But Hal’s not an idiot; he knows the risks, and those risks just don’t seem worth it. There’s a reason lobotomies are unethical nowadays. Unless the topic comes up in some sort of show or movie, the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind.

Harvey Dent: Neither Harvey nor Two Face are all that keen on the idea. They might’ve done some fucked up shit to you (definitely Two Face more than Harvey), but a lobotomy? That’s just a new level of fucked up. A Joker level of fucked up, even (and the thought of being compared to that piece of shit makes both sides of Dent want to light up an entire room). Besides, there’s no one on the entire planet he’d trust to pull off a procedure like that on you. While he might know a guy or two who would totally do it in this day and age, he’d sooner put a bullet in their brain than let them fuck around with yours. That being said, don’t think you’re totally out of the woods. At the end of the day, it’s all up to the coin, remember?

Jaime Reyes: Would Jaime? No. Absolutely not. It’s unethical, it’s fucked, and it’s also just gross. Anything to do with surgery makes him feel extremely squeamish, and he might actually pass out if he thinks about it too hard. But would Khaji Da? Yeah. Probably. Though it would have to be an extreme scenario, where you’re just completely beyond controlling. Khaji Da knows the risks, and while he’ll execute the technical aspects flawlessly, the results are naturally unpredictable. It would be unfortunate if the scarab lost its host’s mate. Your poor little noggin is at the mercy of Jaime’s resolve. Is he in full control? Then don’t worry, his incoherent mutterings about severing connections in your prefrontal cortex are nothing but his weird intrusive thoughts. But… if he isn’t… uh-oh.

Peter Parker: Nope. No lobotomies here. He’s quite aware of the repercussions, both morally and practically. Honestly, he doesn’t even see most of your behaviors as something in need of correcting in the first place. Maybe if you were causing yourself any sort of harm, but other than that, he can put up with a lot of your bullshit. Talking back? Name calling? Hitting and kicking? Straight-up just being abusive? As long as you don’t leave him, he’ll work with it! Peter is the exact definition of a pushover yandere. You can get away with a lot, and that includes not getting lobotomy!

Reed Richards: I can see him pulling one off. Is it the most desirable outcome? Definitely not. But there’s only so much he can put up with before he finally puts his foot down. If you’re the insubordinate type, you’ve probably given him at least 17 heart attacks by now, and it’s only natural he’d come up with a way to curb those behaviors. See, me personally, if I were to get a lobotomy from any of these men, I’m calling up Reed. He’s no neurologist, but I’m sure he can whip up something to study your brain waves and accurately predict the outcome of a lobotomy. Plus, he’d probably have the safest environment and instruments for the operation. You won’t feel a thing, trust. Now let’s hope months of collecting data and trial runs on some less-than-willing test subjects pay off!

Remy LeBeau: Yeah, no… probably not. Thanks to Sinister, he knows first hand how invasive a lobotomy is. You’d have to be really unstable for him to even consider that idea. He definitely has the means to do it — all he has to do is put a finger up to your forehead and burn through your frontal lobe — but having the resolve to do it is a different story. While he might’ve turned out semi-okay post-lobotomy, there’s no telling what would happen after yours. Way too risky. Only something to consider as a totally nuclear option. So don’t make him do something he’d rather not, okay? It’d be better for you, better for him, better for everyone.

Scott Summers: Like Gambit, he’s a victim of Sinister’s fuckery but 10 times worse. I don’t think he’d be able to stomach the thought of doing anything surgical to you no matter how disobedient you are. But… maybe we can make this a little interesting. Scott’s attracted some hella weird attention over the years… who’s to say someone like Sinister wouldn’t get his hands on you and do a little fucking around? Maybe Goblin Queen? A particularly pissed off Phoenix? While Scott himself wouldn’t dare lobotomize you, I think there’s some people out there who would. Or, hear me out: mind controlled Cyclops almost crushing your skull with an optic blast. It would be more blunt force than an actual lobotomy, but I’m willing to bet it would fuck up your cognitive function all the same. Despite the immense horror and guilt he’d feel afterwards, a small part of him can see it as a blessing in disguise (depending on how you turn out, that is).

Steve Rogers: Honestly, Cap was frozen at the funniest point in history ever. The amount of lobotomies increased exponentially from the 40s to 50s (mind you, WWII ended in 1945), and then antipsychotics were introduced as a more ethical way to treat mental illness, which Steve wouldn’t know shit about. Unfortunately for all of my fellow sickos out there, lobotomies were probably never a thing Steve liked about the 40s, but allow me to offer an alternative. Steve thinks there’s clearly something wrong with your mental health; why else would you act like you hate him? Luckily for him, this is the 21st century, where people know much more about mental illnesses and disorders. He could easily pull some strings as Captain America and get you the help you so obviously need. So, I guess the question is, how many different prescriptions of antipsychotics can one take at once? Guess you’ll find out!

Tim Drake: So… uh… y’all better pray that he doesn’t get any intrusive thoughts about this shit. And if he does, PRAY that he snaps out of his weird fit before it’s too late. DO NOT LET BRO COOK. I don’t think he’d totally fuck it up or anything, but the chances of him spiraling and performing more than one are dangerously high. You might find the out hard way just how much poking and prodding a brain can take before it shuts down. Depending on how manic he is, he might actually lobotomize you while you’re conscious. No anesthesia, no painkillers, just him pouncing on you with a hammer and pick. You will be rawdogging this lobotomy like god intended. That’s when he’d fuck your shit up. Unless you want him to brick your brain, you better fight him off and wrestle those tools out of his hands. The post-manic episode clarity would be insane. “Uh… sorry I tried to give you a lobotomy.” Cool, man. Okay.

Wally West: Wally “if you need to give someone a lobotomy, that’s honestly a skill issue” West. Who needs that shit when you’re THE master manipulator? It would take some god-tier perception (or paranoia) to see through a fraction of his act, and even so, what good will any of that do when he’s got everyone else wrapped around his finger? Fighting against him is a dangerous game. If need be, he’ll play the loving caretaker while you’re the loony one. Poor Wally… he’s trying to help you through your issues, and this is the thanks he gets? Wow. Now, for the sake of a little exploration, I think it’s important to note that Wally could theoretically go through with it (by phasing his hand through your skull and solidifying at the right angle), but that sounds way too unstable to pull off. It would probably run the risk of turning your brain into a soup, and I’m pretty sure that kills people.

[judgeanon]

So How About That Batgirl #3

I didn't transplant my review of #2 here because there wasn't that much more to say, especially in regards to Lady Shiva (which is always the most important part of any comic with her in it for me) but #3, hooo boy, there's a lot to talk about for this one.

It introduces, or maybe just expands, a concept that kinda had me feeling a bit nervous but eventually won me over, and still has room for some fun narrative trickery. So I'm gonna go ahead and post my full review of the issue down here:

Picking off where #2 left off, #3 starts with Shiva and Cass on a train heading out of Gotham to meet some allies in their fight against the unburied. And Cass is noooot happy about it.

These opening pages follow the same character dynamic we've seen so far, with Cass openly rejecting her mother's remarks while inwardly rejecting her mother in general -- her inner monologue constantly reassuring herself that Shiva is a lonely manipulative monster while Cass is a good person, clearly to try to chase away the guilt of leaving everyone behind. The desperation in Cass' inner voice to paint Shiva as an unredeemable monster is very palpable and very good in the face of everything that's happened so far.

But the next pages made me a little concerned, with Shiva berating Cass while goading her about her relation with the batfamily. And while we've seen Shiva take jabs at that before, notably in Hill's Outsiders, back then it felt more pointed (and a little meta, what with the whole "He won't even let you be Batgirl" thing), while here Shiva's comments on languages, while true in a way, felt more openly cruel. Bordering on villainous.

Had the issue stayed this way, I would've been very worried about this whole arc turning into yet another milquetoast "Evil bio mom, good found family" yarn. But then the track switches.

The lion's share of the issue is dedicated to introducing the survivors of the Order of Shiva, who have dedicated thier lives not to just worship the deadliest hands on Earth, but to study, learn & better themselves through her example. Which is an idea that could've gone very wrong. Personally? I think this is kinnnnnda neat. Mostly.

The thing is, I've never been a fan of Shiva having any kind of cult or organization built around her. I think it's the kind of stuff that can weigh her down and, at worst, just be used to make her more of a pure villain, like in Dixon's RICHAR DRAGON run. But in this issue, the idea slowly won me over with how Brombal uses it to explore two overlooked aspects of Shiva:

The first is that Shiva, at her best, tends to inspire others. Just by entering a person's life, Shiva, tends to change their perceptions of reality, of what's possible. When Shiva entered Vic's life, she indirectly got him to question a lot of things about how he viewed reality. Same with Dinah and, yes, Cass herself. And this order seems to be entirely built on that idea of Shiva as someone who makes people rethink everything (albeit with way more altruism than Shiva herself).

The other thing this whole scene explores is Shiva's dualities and seeming contradictions, her nature as both destroyer and restorer. Which is something I'm always happy to see, especially nowadays. But this is also where my one big problem with this issue lies: it pays a lot of lip service to Shiva as a healer without actually showing it.

A mention is made of Cass rejecting Shiva's help, but an actual moment of Shiva using her healing skills, to me, would've really helped support High Priest's Jayesh gushing praise of that dual nature.

Just a couple of panels of her doing some funky pressure point head massage, it's all I'm asking.

Beyond that, I do have one nitpick that's just about the one thing that keeps me from fully embracing this idea, and that's Shiva's level of involvement with the order. Jayesh drops a hint of how he met Shiva, and she seems to care at least a little for him and for the Order, but there's not a lot said about how much she helped them build and maintain it.

If they're all people who ran into her, had their minds opened and built an order around their idea of her, that's one thing. If she helped them build it then that's another. Her small moments of caring do seem to indicate she's also warmed up to them, which would suggest some relatively high involvement, which I don't really like. I'd much prefer the order being something that Shiva is aware of but keeps at arm's length, a bunch of well-intentioned groupies that, like the issue says, follow her example rather than her orders. The bottom line is that I don't like anything that Shiva seems to be too attached to, but even if she was, I'm still mostly OK with this idea.

Anyway, the final leg of the issue is dedicated to a very entertaining chase and fight across the rest of the train that's a delight to see. And while my copy's all digital, I imagine it's way better in paper. Miyazawa and Spicer clearly have a lot of fun with these pages and it continues the run's interesting dynamic of Cass and Shiva never being fully in sync during a fight, always fighting each other as much as whoever's all around them.

But apart from the action, the thing that rang a lot of bells for me was Cass' narration as it insists again that Shiva is nothing but a monster and that Cass is nothing like her, eventually flowing towards a very heroic list of all her family members and their core traits that's very nice and heartwarming... and desperate.

Because the narration in this scene all reads to me like Cass arguing with herself. It reads desperately like her trying to chase away the dual thoughts that her mother may not be a complete monster AND that she herself, Cass, really is a lot like her mother.

Hell, the scene is literally Cass running away from Shiva, punching through what she sees as undisputable proof of her mother's lies while checklisting the family she does want and love, physically and mentally fighting against even the possibility of Shiva being worthy of more than her disgust. It's not Cass rejecting Shiva for being evil, it's her trying to reject the evidence that she may have something resembling good in her.

So the whole thing takes a very heroic cliche, Cass naming all these loved one to give her strength, and turns into a flailing flurry of mental gymnastics from Cass to allow herself to keep rejecting Shiva, to maintain this inner image of her as a monster while refusing any connection with her. And it's all pretty compelling stuff.

The issue then ends with one final surprise as Cass runs into the rest of Shiva's allies: a resurrected Nyssa Al-Ghul, Angel Breaker and a brand new character we'll apparently learn more about next month. So yeah, this was an interesting issue. The pacing of the arc is still a bit slow, but with all the players (hopefully) at the table and three issues to go, I hope the rest of the arc will pick up steam and keep chugging along smoothly.

I wasn't expecting the Order of Shiva to get much more play after #1. I certainly wasn't expecting them to get expanded like this. And I definitely didn't expect it to win me over this much. Minor quibbles aside, I gotta give props to Brombal for the obvious thought he's put when laying down these tracks for Shiva, and I'm definitely in for the rest of the ride.

(then again, maybe I'm just being blinded by the intense relatability of my man Jayesh over here. I feel you, brother. Hope you survive this arc)

[10thmusemoon]

Askbox title/word game!! Let's see *checks my list of song lyrics that would make great fic titles*

Title: it's a relief when it goes wrong

Alternatively, word: esuriant

oooh this would be a comedic modern QiJiu fic, SJ centered, where he has a string of boyfriends that are 100% convinced that they are The One. They've listened to all the times he's complained about his terrible ex husband and have decidedly done none of those things that piss Shen Jiu off.

(somehow, this still pisses Shen Jiu off)

They're doing SO WELL, they are communicating and doing their best to anticipate his triggers and boundaries, so certain that they are the ones that will help Shen Jiu finally move on.

(cue the pitying stares from cumplane)

Only for SJ to be the one to break it off the second he even hears a hint of YQY doing something that could possibly indicate he's trying to move on.

"What does your ex buying a houseplant have anything to do with us?"

"Why are you still here? I have a knife, leave before I use it!"

-

"Jiu-ge...YQY started volunteering at an animal shelter..."

Shen Jiu, engagement ring thrown out the window, four inch red sole Louboutins on. "I'm five minutes away."

-

It's a never ending self destructive cycle where SJ can't stand the possibility of not being the center of YQY's world but also fears being the one that Ruins It For Good when they are together. So he constantly leaves knowing he can come back, YQY will always open his arms to him if SJ is the one that initiates it. There is no way they can grow to resent one another in the relationship if they are not together long enough for the spark to disappear.

For YQY, he's a defeatist and will let SJ leave, if that's what SJ thinks is best. But at the same time, it's gratifying that time and time again, SJ always comes back to him. All he needs to do is be a little patient.

Things are "fine" until YQY actually talks about this in therapy and his therapist points out (at this point already having deciphered yqy doesn't do things for Himself) that always taking SJ back, always leaving that opportunity open, just keeps SJ in a cycle of heart break and misery. Isn't that also unfair to him?

[YQY, gripping the chair arm, gritting his teeth.]:...i see

Which leads YQY to going on his first not-SJ date in years. He tries to keep it on the dl, so as not ruin SJ's current relationship, unfortunately, TLJ cannot keep his mouth shut and mentions it to his book club, who mentions it to his estranged son, who mentions it to his boyfriend SY, who has SJ on speed dial to tattle.

More than YQY buying a couch or fostering a pet, this lights a fire under SJ's ass where he decides to cut that avenue off for yqy entirely and shows up to his date to propose to himl

TLJ, clapping in the bg: wow! Amazing! Can I- SJ: why are you here, scram

For the 12th time, they move in together and SJ still leaves occasionally during arguments, but just harasses SY or SQH in the meantime before returning. The threat of divorce turns into a very intricate foreplay.

YQY, of course, fires his therapist.

Alternatively, for esuriant cw: body horror, gore, cannibalism

SJ needs, for whatever plot reason, to consume pieces of YQY to stay alive. This leads to them finding a way to clone YQY, split his consciousness into the clones, and harvest his organs as needed. If anyone found out they would be horrified and try to rescue yqy from this situation. Unfortunately, they are truly freak4freak and this is quite possibly the ultimate form of happiness that yqy can reach. There is no greater joy than lovingly preparing his(?) old body for SJ to consume, feeding him small chunks by hand and delighting in SJ's impatience when he just decides to bite yqy's neck and drink his blood.

Truly, what bliss.

[icewindandboringhorror]

It's always interesting to hear about people's weird/unexpected "alternate life paths". Like, something that you could have done with your life, a job you almost took, a school you almost went to, etc - that was still actually realistic enough that it could have happened, but NOW it seems to not suit your current personality.

Like for example, I currently hate advertising (how manipulative it is, brands trying to be 'relatable', social media amplifying it to an obnoxious extreme, etc.) so much that even seeing a little ad before a youtube video is grating to even witness, but there was a point in time where I was genuinely seriously considering going into marketing/making commercials as a career lol. Or like, I have a relative who was very inclined to be a pastor when they were younger, even though today they're a super strong atheist, etc. etc.

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

"my education is my highest priority" everything returns to vocaloid

[hungergameshyperfixation]

Not to be that person but Panem had nearly 75 full Hunger Games before their system of government was overthrown. 75(+?) years. But things changed in the end. This too shall pass (but not without active participation)

[paging-possum]

Who up listening to good luck babe by chappell roan and having it resonate not in the way intended but resonating nonetheless. About to go ham in the tags about the overlap of being a lesbian and being aromantic...if u even care....

[orcelito]

Since I've got some life insurance money now, I keep ordering packages. Birthday gifts, household necessities/utility things that I've wanted but haven't bought b4 now for whatever reason (an electric kettle, a portable speaker, more outlet strips, wood cleaner, some cubbies for one of my new cabinets, etc), and Also a few frivolous nice things for myself (like the figurine, and the dice, and some comic books)

I'm expecting it to slow down after I've gotten things more settled, but I rly wonder what the post ppl think of me rn. Like "this bitch again?" I'm sorry post people I am simply trying to sort out my life rn. I promise I will be less annoying in time.

[schoolhater]

answering a couple questions i got on this post since i realized ppl genuinely wanna know:

tl;dr:

israel lets very, very little aid get into gaza. even the UN can't get in as much as they want to. funding individual families, gazan led initiatives, and mutual aid collectives operating out of gaza ensures gazans can provide for themselves and pay for the extremely expensive aid that is available.

with all the civil infrastructure destroyed by israel, the situation on the ground has devolved into unrestricted capitalism, driving up the price of aid (that should be free!). this makes it more urgent for people to have funding for daily survival.

the post linked above has examples of how donating to individual families can help a lot. if you want to help more than one family at a time, there are many gazan-led initiatives focusing on rebuilding their infrastructure and distributing aid fairly that are worth donating to instead of large charities that already get the majority of donations.

as i mentioned in the last post: @/careforgaza on twitter is a nonprofit started by gazans, it's been endorsed by multiple palestinian journalists.

the sameer project is a collective organized by diaspora palestinians offering emergency shelter to gazans.

ele elna elak is a project aiming to bring water, food, shelter, etc. to gazans and has been promoted by bisan owda.

and the municipality of gaza itself is fundraising to rebuild water infrastructure.

all of these organizations are active inside gaza right now and are being run by gazans. if anyone knows of other gazan-led mutual aid projects, nonprofits or charities feel free to link them in the notes! hope this helped!

long answers under the cut!

if you wanna donate to a charity that's absolutely fine, but the thing is most charities (and even the UN!) are unable to make it into gaza in the first place, leaving aid rotting at the egyptian side of the border or subject to israeli settler attacks

not to mention, charities and nonprofits also maintain a paternalistic colonial relationship with the indigenous people they are trying to help, determining what aid they need for them instead of returning power to them and letting them make their own choices

i'm not here to say that one option is better than the other, just that they achieve different things and are equally legitimate. there's an attitude among people who question the legitimacy of these gofundme campaigns that somehow the people promoting them are telling them not to donate to charities. nobody is stopping you from donating to charities. we are just asking that you do not dehumanize the very real gazans in your inbox just because their method of asking for aid is more direct and risky.

unfortunately that's exactly what has happened. because israel destroyed all of gaza's more formalized infrastructure, it seems that organized crime and rampant inflation has taken its place. aid is supposed to be free, but in order to save for evacuation or the cost of living, people have started selling them at an inflated price. and aid that is truly free attracts intense, large crowds that are dangerous to navigate.

this was posted on abc a few days ago

it's pure, unrestrained capitalism. i've had multiple palestinians describe this situation to me confidence. that's why everything's so expensive now. why people have to rent out tiny plots of land for their tents to sit on, why my friend @siraj2024 still has to buy tarps to cover the broken windows of the overpriced bombed out apartment he rented, and why a bag of flour can cost a thousand bucks in the north.

even before israel closed and then bombed the rafah crossing, the egyptian hala travel agency was only allowing people to cross the border if they paid a hefty $5000 USD per adult / $2500 USD per child bribe. it denies doing this, but the hundreds of stories from palestinians say otherwise.

with regard to the economy, here in america we saw something similar happen in the wake of hurricane helene and milton. the podcaster margaret killjoy describes how she saw dual economies rise after asheville was fully cut off from the rest of the country - some people offered each other supplies for free in a sort of mutual aid honor system, and some people required payment when they lent supplies because they themselves needed to buy stuff for their families. these dual economies exist in gaza too. and this means they all still need money to survive.

[depressedtheatrekiddo]

I found someone in my classroom!!! She's so cool and I've sat next to her last year and she always loves to talk and I loved to listen to school recent gossip and this year she's on my latin classes and we've been getting back in touch and!!! And!!! We discovered we both have similar ideas!! I'm explaining her anarchist theory and she shares acab media she just discovered, we circle the 13/12 date in the classroom blackboard and run, I send her tutorials I've discovered on how to do moss graffiti and she asks for information about world events and if I don't know about them we investigate together and then we exchange opinions!! And this, this is so special to me, because I've been trying to connect with someone in my surroundings, and there wasn't— interest. Like I talk and there's this tight smile on my friends face. And. And sometimes it breaks my heart? But this. This is so fucking cool.

[philsmeatylegss]

I saw a tiktok talking about the massive shortage of feminine hygiene products in Gaza.

The only charity right now that seems to be helping with this shortage is called Motherbeing

Motherbeing is an organization based on education and providing assistance in healthcare for Arab women.

They recently donated 200,000 sanitary pads as women have been taking dangerous measures to delay their periods out of fear of toxic shock syndrome.

In case you are unaware, toxic shock syndrome is a possibly life threatening infection that develops from wearing a feminine hygiene product, usually tampons or cups, for too long.

They currently don’t have donations open, but people are trying to get them to. There’s products you can buy from their website, however.

This will get like three notes, but I just came across it and I wanted to post something. When something as serious as genocide happens, people forget little things like pads and tampons, which actually can be life threatening.

If you want to donate to charities similar to this one, here’s a few I found:

-Helping Women Period: provides pads and tampons to women (and people with uteruses) who are low income or homeless.

-The Pad Project: supplies low income women with pads all over the world.

-She Supply: provides pads and tampons for homeless women in Texas

-Free the Tampon: organization working towards making sanitary products free

-The Period Panty Project: takes physical donations of sanitary products as well as just donations for women in Ohio.

-Days for Girls: donated reusable pads to women all over the world.

There’s a lot more. Feel free to research

[winter-spark]

Paused my queue and started using it as a secondary drafts box but I think I'm gonna try and go through it & unpause it. I'm sorta getting confused on how to use this site and need to return to my "roots"

[its-no-biggie]

do you guys think i can organize my blog before the new year