#For Night For Causation

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Melody of Return Letter Translation

*Light and Night Masterlist *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *This will go under everyone’s personal tag *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut

❖ Osborn:

My Little Naughty (Y/n),

Finally willing to come back, huh? The long-term contract we signed has yet to be fulfilled, so I'm not letting you escape all so easily. ‘Sides, I don't believe that you don't miss me at all, seeing how I'm always at your disposal, all day, any day. Milkie has become friends with the others at home, and Xiaoragon loves it. But I know that Xiaoragon loves you best. Ye Chuan asked about your recent situation, saying how he wouldn't be able to have peace of mind until he saw you for himself again. Let's go visit him when we have time.

—Osborn

❖ Evan:

My Little Rabbit, (Y/n),

That spider plant is flourishing. It helps put me at ease whenever I place it in its daily spot of sunlight. However, I do think sometimes that it shouldn’t be trapped in a small flower pot indoors, relying on regular and controlled amounts of watering to sustain its own life. Perhaps the life it wants is being able to take root in the soil and grow freely. Let’s transplant it to the yard together once we’re free, and we can watch the ending of the movie we first watched together after.

—Evan

❖ Sariel:

My dumb bird, (Y/n),

Qi She said that I wasn’t smiling as much during the time you were gone. I thought about it, and maybe I do smile around you a lot. Maybe that was what gave Qi She that misconception. But you’ve always done well; your growth as a designer is steadily improving, and you’ve never been a dumb bird. In short, you don’t have to go away for such a long period to further your studies next time. You can just come to me. I’ve brought back a couple of trinkets that I think you’d like. I’ll deliver it all to you later.

—Sariel

❖ Charlie:

My Dear Fiancée (Y/n),

The joy of publishing ten papers cannot even come close to the joy of seeing you. So, if you want to come see me more often, I can reciprocate as well by coming to visit you instead. However, I am not like the golden bachelor you read about in novels, who wants to confine their Fiancée like a canary in a cage. I fully support your decision to go further outland to further your studies, but don’t forget to contact me more no matter where you are. Texting would be good, phone calls are better, and of course, bringing me along would be the best.

—Your ever-waiting Fiancé, Charlie

❖ Jesse:

My Dear Lady, (Y/n),

You’ve finally returned! I’ve lost weight waiting for you, and the costume you [personally designed and made before you left doesn’t fit as well anymore. So, when are you gonna come by and help me make some alterations, Milady? Also, you once pinky swore with me that you’d always stand by me and that you’d never leave. I won’t let you go back on that promise, so you’d best be prepared~

—Milady’s One & Only Knight, Jesse

[tai-janai]

i hate to be that guy but i cannot get behind the idea of the Hero being LQ's "agency" or "will"

[medicaltechnician]

i’ve managed to slowly change my friends opinion on ai lets goooo

[thetimetraveler24]

Does anyone else ever feel like once you really start liking something specific and really getting into it, that’s when all of a sudden a boatload of problematic things start coming to light? Like, realistically I know I cannot be the cause of it, but if I had a nickel for every time it happened, I would have a lot of nickels.

[the-krakens-bitch]

Being in your early twenties is fantastic, like at any time of issue your mind swings to either “I’m being childish” or “is this some part of mental illness”

[vaaaaaiolet]

Why choose between riding a cowboy, a stallion, or an Italian when you can have all three? In which you find competition for the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost in the American West.

mdni holy shit. f / m, shameless smut just like pure filth. p in v, wild west au, TONS of christian imagery via metaphor??, mild praise + size kink, leon's a tease as usual

word count: 1.69k <3 // read on ao3

a/n: re6 leon turns my brain into illiterate mush and this is the proof. i wrote this 1 word an hour. i couldn't cope. ignore the half assed banner, half assed writing, half assed everything. listen to nessa barrett's song from the title. god bless you all.

God makes no mistakes: you’re on your knees in the back of an Arizona saloon, but you’re not exactly praying thanks. God is a vision in dirty blond as far as you’re concerned. How’d you end up here?

Enter Leon Kennedy: outlaw on the run.

He hadn’t gotten the memo when angels started coming down to Earth and wanted to give you the warm welcome you deserve. 

“Seriously?” You laugh; swirl your watered-down whiskey.

“I’ve always wanted to try that one out,” Leon grins. Cocky and magnetic, he takes your hand in his own calloused one and guides you to the dance floor. “But you haven’t seen my real trick yet.”

“And what’s that?”

“This.”

Every other beat of your heart finds you in a dizzying dip over the floor as Leon leads you in a dance akin to gunfights in Tombstone, except Leon is more than O.K. at what he does. He’s got you in a trance with his hands spanning your waist.

Sucking in dust and his woodsmoke cologne, you gasp, “Where’d you learn how to dance like that?”

“You’ve never been danced properly before?” Leon laughs. He spins you like you’re the moon.

“Not like this!”

“Oh darlin’, you don’t learn by talkin’ about it. Keep dancing and you’ll figure it out.”

Figure out a two-step you might not have, but you can figure just fine what Leon means when his hand slips up the hem of your blouse. A hungry thumb soon lines your brassiere right under the nose of the barkeep. 

“You’re crass, Leon,” you whisper.

“Is that a no? I’ll treat you right if you let me.”

God expects his servants to give and take, and you’ve done a lot of taking so far, no? You’ve been a little down on your luck lately. Can’t afford to tempt fate that way. So you pull Leon down by the collar, whisper back with your lips lined in devil red, “Make it my treat?”

His smirk glimmers in the dark. “Lead the way, doll.”

Quickly, quickly. Miracles disappear in the blink of an eye and Leon needs to take you before you can disappear into the night. Rope-toughened fingertips fly down your lined blouse, slip the silk off to unveil your sun-freckled shoulders behind the barkeep’s storage door. You’ve spirited Leon away for twenty minutes at best before the saloon closes and the workers come barging in. You’ve got to pay penance for this, haven’t you?

You sink to your knees. 

Leon hooks his hands under your thighs and sits you right back up on a crate, and gets down on his knees.

What.

You’re running on borrowed time, you can’t afford tweaks to this arrangement. “I thought we had a deal?” you scowl. 

But you forget God makes no mistakes. Leon is his creation, so causation, correlation, you do the math. Your anger dissipates at the first swipe of his thumb over your clothed slit. Wetness blooms at his touch, and Leon chuckles as your breath shudders. Genesis.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to let a lady do all the work.” He kisses the spot between your legs, looks up at you with eyes of oasis blue. “You know I take the lead.”

Your chest heaves. “I do.”

“I’m good at it.”

“...You are.”

"And I know this isn't your style. All I ask is that you let me earn my keep.”

Well, that goes without saying. And so Leon flips the script. 

He starts lining burning kisses down your thigh, entices you with an “Open for me”, sighs dreamily when your legs part of their own accord. A previously bothersome, soaked scrap of lace falls at Leon’s feet. 

“Oh, baby, you should’ve asked next time. Look at this mess. Wouldn’t’ve needed to be so quick, then.”

Try and look down, but Leon’s already latched his warm mouth onto your clit, sucking like it’s a Tootsie pop. You throw your head back in ecstasy. 

Waves of feel-good wash over you in all the colors of a pinkening sunset, gold at the edges and red hot at the center, your own overflowing with slick as Leon dips his tongue inside – oh, oh, oh, swirling the colors with each revolution around your sensitive pearl. Your thighs threaten to clamp around his head. He keeps you pliant, capping your knees with rough palms.

“Leon…” you can’t help but whine. 

“Just workin’ ya a bit. Think you’ve had enough?” you hear him groan from underneath.

You’re barely breathing. “Need…need more.”

“Don’t seem that way to me from here. God, you’re gorgeous.” Leon croons, sucking a tender bite a little ways from where you need him most, over the softest part of your inner thigh. A landmark so he can hope to find his way back. He taps your knee. “Time?”

The dusty clock on the barkeep’s desk reads ten minutes to twelve; you relay this with difficulty as Leon does his damnedest to render you incapable of speech. He hums, considering. The vibration shoots right up your core.

“I’ve been in tighter spots,” he eventually decides, shooting you a lopsided grin as he hefts you higher on the crate you’ve practically melted off the side of, “No offense, doll.”

You’d laugh if you weren’t so close. “Low-hanging fruit, Leon.”

“You taste sweeter nohow.”

Missing his mouth already, you pull him back into a kiss. His leather belt clinks in time with the glasses back inside the bar as he unbuckles it, and you take the time to appreciate how you’re level with him even perched atop a crate. Leon’s got height on you. 

Inches where it matters, too. His cock bucks in his hand when it finally springs free, and you bat your lashes up at him ‘cause it seems Leon’s been keeping secrets. He’s thick, ruddy and leaking, got a halo over the head of his dick in the light that creeps in from under the door, and you make a prayer to put your mouth on him if you cross paths once more. Your fingers barely go all the way around.

“Make a deal with me, cowboy,” you breathe. “I let you have your fun. Now, you let me.”

Leon cocks a brow. He’s antsy, understandably so. “What’s that entail?”  

Plywood burns the back of your jean skirt as you slide off the crate, Leon watching as you shuck off the denim, pool it underneath your feet. You reel him in by the collar just to shove him onto the barkeep’s high-backed chair. Leon’s eyes widen when your thighs bracket his and everything suddenly makes sense as you center your cunt tantalizingly over his painfully erect length. 

He’s rasping, needy. “This what you had in mind?”

“‘Fraid so.”

“You sure?”

You scoff haughtily, dragging a smile from him that’s all lynx. “Your wish is my command, miss.” 

Palms start gliding up your torso, thumbs rub circles on the undersides of your breasts. Leon’s collarbones collect moonlight streaming in from the open window and you want to lap it all up like milk, but you’re getting distracted. The clock is counting closer to midnight. Adrenaline makes you heady. Maybe you should tell Leon to get a good handle on your hips when you sink down on his dick – point blank. 

All the way to the hilt. 

He takes it in stride as best as he can. “Tight, doll, ah,” he hisses, head bobbing, “so tight. Gonna send me to heaven.” 

You shift your hips experimentally, whimpering at the stretch. You’re a lousy judge of character but an apparently worse judge of size because you have no idea how you’re going to do this. Leon’s thumb reroutes to your navel, North Star that it is, and travels down to wait over your clit. Technically, you’ve still got the lead. Everything’s still. So so still. You’re about to break.

The minute hand ticks.

“Leon, please,” you whimper.

“What’s that, doll?” 

You paw uselessly at his chest. “Need help.”

Leon clicks his tongue in sympathy. It’s hard to get mad at a thing like you no matter how tough you sell yourself. Smart mouth and pretty eyes, bubblegum sweet underneath, something he’s gotta help. Leon’s always been a sucker for the damsel in distress type.

So he calls down a miracle. “I gotcha, sweetheart.” 

You cry out in relief at the lifting sensation of his hands around your hips. This is another dance you’ve yet to learn, it seems. 

“I gotcha.” Leon’s voice is a psalm over the burn of his cock inside you. A familiar thumb sneaks in between where you and he meet; whiskey and mint on his breath intoxicates you when he murmurs, ”Did so good for me, darlin’. Doesn’t feel too great right now, does it?”

You sniffle. “Mm-mm.”

“Gonna let me make it better?”

“Please.”

Leon indulges you. Taking advantage of the slick velvet he’s wrapped in, he glides you up just the tiniest bit, revealing the inch of his length you’ve covered in your arousal. You watch transfixed as he lifts your hips up and down. Baby steps. Stomach flips. You leave him coated in stardust like you’re made of it.

Leon’s in awe. “See that?” 

But you’re too far gone to take notice of anything but the embers in your stomach, seconds away from crumpling onto his chest. You were once sitting proudly upright. The extent of your desire hits like a revelation once your insides finally mold around him, like it was all prophesized, and you can’t tell up from down when Leon starts to piston you on his lap.

Five minutes 'til it’s all over: You’re tender and boneless and about to explode. Leon is relentless. Sweat drips from his brow like holy water. He kicks the barkeep’s chair to barricade the door because you were right, there’s no way you’re making it out here alive.

Your thighs ache with exertion, steering you on their own.

Four minutes: “Can’t take it, Leon!” You’re going under. The flood is no myth.

“Tell me where,” he grits, desperate.

Three. 

You want him to pull up the ladder.

Two.

“Where, doll, where?!”

One.

“Inside.” 

And God, you burn brighter than the sun.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[ynbabe]

LOGAN FIC REQ!! (i love your messages au smmm btw THEYRE SO GOOD AHH) ok anywayssss

can you pls do logan x super super famous!reader.(preferably an actress but i don't mind any) so both of them are dating but are trying to keep it a secret since they've only been dating for a short amount of time. one night they decide to go on a date but paparazzi was there and it was going VIRAL. reader regrets not double checking if there would be any paps. sooo then everyone starts investigating on logan as the internet does and since everyone doesn't watch f1, they only see logan crashing and blah blah blah so they see him as a "bad driver" and he starts getting A LOT of hate because people think reader deserves better. they also start comparing him to reader's "more better and famous ex". reader and logan take time off social media and people think they broke up until reader releases an instagram post defending him and yeah a lot of fluff and hurt/comfort.

idk if this made sense but pls feel free to change anything!! again i love your work sm 💕‼️

Hiiii, omg thank you so much! Love love LOVE the fic idea and without any further ado- here's the fic, it isn't exactly as the prompt but I hope you love it-

Keep my wife's name OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH ୨୧ Logan Sargeant x famous! reader

As a celebrity, you don’t often have the privilege of privacy. The cameras seemed to follow you everywhere, from outside your house to the restaurants you ate at and even to private celebrations with your friends and family.

Your last relationship had gone south exactly because of the paparazzi, making assumptions about the seriousness of your relationship and even spreading pregnancy and marriage rumours, scaring the man away.

You had wanted to take it slow, heart broken from your previous relationship but then you met Logan and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breath, like you could do what you wanted without being judged.

You knew who he was and he knew who you were and that was perfect.

The both of you had spent a perfect week in your villa in Bali, it had been risky but no one caught on, surprisingly.

You thought your luck would continue and you threw causation to the wind, not asking your assistant to check for paparazzi at the sushi restaurant you were going to in Shanghai.

Unfortunately, you were caught just as you were leaving the restaurants waking up to a host of notifications, some good and some gut-wrenching.

Logan on the other hand tried not to throw up, his eyes wide, you could tell he was scared. Would his team drop him? No, no. Why would they? Right? Oh God.

"Logan, Logs, baby are you okay?" You called out, dropping to your knees and cradling his face in your palms.

f1waglife

f1waglife Y/n nation how are we feeling tonight? Logang? How are we? This was definitely not the couple we expected but is this the couple we deserve?

Username OH HELL NAW- WHY IS THIS FLORIDA MAN DATING QUEEN Y/N?????

Username Y/n come home the kids miss you

Username Omg mans is in love

Username Get someone to look at you the way Logan looks at Y/n

You saw some of the comments and while some made you smile, some made you want to slap a bitch, unfortunately, a scandal would not help, so you called up your PR manager, and the post was gone within a minute.

Logan's race had gone sour, with him getting an unfair penalty and points on his licence. The already poor start to your day had turned even worse when you saw Logan tiredly storm into the room collapsing on the bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"What... the..... fuck?" He screamed into the pillow making you smile a little. The small habit he'd picked up from you, screaming into the pillows as a way to think, one that you had picked up from one of the characters you played a long time ago.

"Why do people even care about who's dating who? That's so stupid." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't we binge Keeping Up with the Kardashians every Monday?" You asked.

"That's not the same though-" He paused and switched his phone off, he already didn't have access to his own Instagram, having given access to his manager a long time ago, he now didn't even want to talk to his friends or colleagues many of whom just wanted an autograph from you along with an explanation how he could be with you.

He turned around, pulling the blanket on him, tired from the day.

You pulled up Twitter as a habit but were greeted with a terrible chain of tweets judging every aspect of your relationship and even worse criticizing Logan without even knowing anything about the sport.

"What the fuck-" You cursed out loud, you knew your fanbase was slightly (an underestimation) larger than your boyfriends but how could they call themselves your fans, when you have been a fan of Logan's since his first season in f1? All your co-stars American or not knew your borderline obsession for the man, every race week you'd be posting Williams on your story, how could they still hate on him?

You looked next to you, where your boyfriend was sleeping a small scowl on his pretty face.

PR be damned, he didn't deserve this.

y/nl/nofficial

y/nl/nofficial To anyone who calls themselves my fans and talks shit about my lovely boyfriend, UNFOLLOW ME ASAP. Logan is the kindest, sweetest, most talented man I've had the pleasure to know and he deserves better than the bullshit he gets from some assholes who don't know anything about him. To quote my friend Will: KEEP MY WIFES NAME OUT YOUR DAMN MOUTHS-

username oop sis snapped

username you tell em girl

username LOVE a gf whos rabidly in love with her bf

username now why would y'all try and shame Mother's boyfriend when all she does is post about him for race weekends??

username fr shes been a logan fan before logan fans have been logan fans

Williams We stan a protective gf 😮‍💨

username admin you'll always be famous y/nl/nofficial Cant help it he looks really pretty in blue 🥰 username oh she in love love

username shall we start calling him Father?

The way I was struggling to write this fic cause I had to write bad things about Pookie Bear Logie is insane. But- I hope yall like it, please do let me know in the comments or reblogs!!!

[sunaluv]

A cute prompt! The moment they realized they want to spend the rest of their lives with you 🥺🥺 (Also hi hello new follower here i love ur works!!!! Hope ur having an awesome day stay safe and stay hydrated 🫶🫶🫶)

i got you

feat: ran, eren, shigaraki(🥹), gojo

RAN

ill be honest, it was probably during an argument.

he was absolutely smitten with you. that was probably why you too rarely fought. also, the two of you were too unbothered to draw out fights long.

so when it hit the 2-day mark and he hadn't seen or heard from you since you stormed out of the house, he became worried.

he had a lot of enemies and you knew that too. his mind kept him up at night if he didn't spend it combing the streets of japan looking for you.

the rest of bonten saw it too. he became more snappy with his colleagues (they had to calm mikey down before they fought fr), he went crazy and fired his secretary for some reason, mans was spiralling out of control.

his brother hated seeing him like this, so he helped look for you, contacting all your friends and family on your whereabouts.

eventually they found you, hiding in your friends' house (she's a real one and told them she didn't know where you were when they asked).

ran was an emotional wreck. over a girlllll.

honestly, rindou was shaking his head, but he knew his brother was in deep.

you talked things out and smoothed it over, and although you were a little pissy with him, you allowed him to hold you in his embrace, whispering gently apologies in between kisses to your hairline.

when you finally fell asleep in his arms, ran didn't want to let you go or sleep. he felt like you might disappear if he takes his eyes off you for a second.

that when it hit him how deeply in love he was with you, and he (along with everyone in the bonten building) realised you really do keep him sane and he can't imagine a life without you.

he promised that, if you stuck around long enough, he'll make sure you stay with him forever <3

EREN

best friends to lovers trope woop woop

okay so he realised this way before you two got together.

so one day, there was a big falling out in your friend group which caused a massive divide.

you, mikasa, sasha, and the eldia boys (reiner, bert) were all on one side. and eren, armin, jean connie and such were on the other side. yall were a big friend group too so the news travelled fast that you divided.

you and eren weren't the causation, but people had to pick sides which meant you were split up.

the divide couldn't have come at a worse time too because you were in that stage where you knew you had feelings for each other and were flirting and dancing around the fact that you wanted to be together.

now you couldn't be seen together by your friends unless you wanted to cause more drama (giving romeo and juliet).

he still had a strong desire to see you, so he often snuck around with you in the evening/night time, and it honestly was kinda romantic, though you wished you could hang out in the day too.

he took you out on 'dates' (referred to as 'friendly outings' bc feelings are complicated) and he drew them out as long as possible because he hated it when it was time to say goodbye. every time you left, he would count down the hours before he could see you again.

absence really does make the heart grow fonder because he had to control himself from gravitating towards you during the day and it hurt the both of you.

it was one random night where he couldn't fall asleep. he was just staring at the ceiling, replaying your whole date in his head and he didn't realise he started smiling a little.

with his head buried in the pillow, he sighed wanting nothing more than to be with you forever.

SHIGARAKI

you were the first and probably the only girl to show interest in him and honestly, the minute you did, he thought yall were locked in for life.

he thought relationships were purely meant to be transactional, so when he finally understood that you just wanted to be there for him because you truly cared and loved for him? he thought he was sick by the way his heart squeezed.

it took him a while to adjust, and you gave him all the time and space he needed because the last thing you wanted was for him to be overwhelmed.

he slowly became more comfortable with you helping him with things, once he learnt he didn't have to do everything solo whilst he was around.

he was changing for the better (not too much tho), he notices how much healthier he looked now that he was getting three proper meals a day, his skin felt hydrated and the desire to itch his skin off drastically lessened.

he felt like it was too good to be true and became paranoid that something bad was gonna happen like the heroes taking you away, or AFO manipulating you, like he did to him.

kurogiri felt proud of his young master for recalling the 'gentlemanly advice' he gave him as he watched the two of you converse on the loveseat in the quiet bar.

his league was empty, the bar was old and not bringing in enough money and he had a whole lot on his plate which was enough to make him hate everything.

but with you around, he could learn to hate things a little less <3

GOJO

manga spoilers

mans busted out the box and was craving your touch instantly!

the last conversation you had before he got sealed was him telling you he'll be back later, pecking your pout away before leaving.

little did you know you wouldn't see gojo for another 19 days.

he didn't have a lot of time before he had to go and fight sukuna, so he wanted to talk to you while his time was still guaranteed.

the reunition was hella emotional, he squeezed you so tight and let your tears soak his shirt.

he pulled your face back to meet his gaze, and you were surprised to see tears welling up in his eyes, but that was the least of your problems. you noticed him trying to get his words out and you were patient as he seemed to be finding the right words to say.

after lots of out of character stuttering, he blurted out "marry me."

you were shocked and he was scared he crossed the line when you went silent for a minute, but you very emotionally said yes on your apartment floor in your baggy sweats and t-shirt belonging to your now-fiancee.

although it was just under 3 weeks he was gone, it felt like an eternity without you, so he vowed that when he got out of the box, he was going to make sure you know he will always come back for you.

[1starqi]

Worth Finding

genre: fluff, party au

pairing: mark x reader

warnings: none! this one is proofread lol

word count: 1.2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

▸ Now Playing: Like We Just Met

The thumping of the speakers made your head hurt. The DJ was picking songs you didn’t like and there were too many sweaty people dancing too close together. You were sweaty too, and it made your itchy shirt even itchier. Your top is blue and it’s uncomfortable everywhere. Your jeans are too tight and you have to keep subtly adjusting. It was claustrophobic, really. The cacophony of the party was suffocating. Just then you found your escape, a glass door that looked like it led to sweet relief outside.

You gave a quick excuse to the friends who dragged you there before slipping between the maze of sweaty, intoxicated bodies to find the door. When you finally pulled on the heavy door to exit the big party room, you let the relief of the cool night’s wind wash over you. You could hear the faint booming of the speakers even outside. You wondered if the owners would get a noise complaint.

You heard a quiet oh, from behind you. As you turned around you saw a figure in the darkness, standing awkwardly.

His voice broke the relative silence, “Can I be here?” The implication is, I can leave if you want. You can hear the DJ’s faint calls booming in the background.

You laughed a little, “No, no. You’re fine. It’s just loud in there.”

He laughed, too, now, and it was tinged with resignation. He walked up to the fence that separates the two of you from a free-fall. He leaned against it, his silhouette outlined by the faint glow of the waxing moon. You could see the exhaustion etched into the lines of his face, mirroring yours. “Yeah, it’s overwhelming.” He agreed. When you see his face, you see he’s actually pretty cute—it makes you look away.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a relief that someone else isn’t exactly a party person. "I needed a breather. It's too crowded there." 

“I didn't even want to come tonight, but my friends dragged me along." He shrugged. You smiled sympathetically, knowing all too well the feeling of being coerced into social gatherings.

"Same here." The two of you fell into a comfortable silence. Trying to make conversation out of the silence, you started asking him questions. "What’s your name? What do you do when you're not being dragged to parties?"

“I’m Mark. I’m a dancer.” He admitted, and you were a little surprised. Dancing is hot, sometimes. 

“Shouldn’t you want to dance to the music?” You cock your head. You have a couple dancer friends, and they’re all party people. Correlation isn’t causation, you repeat your stats teacher’s mantra.

“I don’t know. Parties aren’t the right scene for my kind of dancing.” What kind of dancing does he do? You think. As you continued the conversation, you found him easy to talk to. 

Before you know it, the talk drifts towards an early exit from the party altogether. “We could leave.” You suggested, and it went from there.

He has you change into a set of spare clothes he had in his bag, seeing how you fidget in the jeans and top. His shirt is white and it’s oversized on you since he's taller than you. He gave you some shorts too, instead of your jeans. His shorts are navy with two lighter blue stripes down the side, they’re comfortable. At least, more comfortable than your jeans. Maybe it’s the light alcohol in his system, but you swear he blushes when he sees you come out of the dirty bathroom in his clothes. You were probably blushing too, wearing his clothes and all. They smell like him, how can you not blush? “Let’s get out of here.” You tell him with a smile and slip your hand into his, carrying your clothes in the other. Out of your periphery, you see people staring at you leaving with the man, but you’re beyond caring. As your hand locks with his, he’s clearly surprised, but he doesn’t resist it. In fact, he gives your hand a quick squeeze. If it was on purpose or not, you don’t know.

“I can drive.” You tell him, not giving him the option to refuse. You lead Mark by his hand out of the chaotic party scene, the distant thumping of the speakers gradually fades into the background as you step into the cool air again. As you walk together, your hand still comfortably intertwined with his, you steal glances at Mark. His features are softened by the moonlight, and you notice how his eyes crinkle when he smiles at something you say. There's a warmth in his presence that makes you feel at ease despite the unfamiliarity of the situation.

Reaching your car, you unlock the doors with a click and slide into the driver’s seat, motioning for Mark to join you. He hesitates for a moment before nodding and settling into the passenger seat beside you. 

You break the silence. "So, where to?" you ask, glancing over at him. He shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. "Anywhere," he replies.

“Say less.” You nod in agreement, starting the car and pulling out onto the quiet street. As you drive, you find yourself falling into more easy conversation with Mark, the tension and discomfort of the party fading away with each passing mile. Eventually, you find yourselves parked on a hillside overlooking the city below. The lights twinkle like stars against the darkness, and the gentle hum of the night surrounds you like a comforting blanket despite the uneven ground and dewy grass. You’re probably getting his shorts wet by just sitting there.

You and Mark sit side by side, sharing stories and laughter as the hours slip away. In the quiet intimacy of the night, a connection forms. His presence gives you a sense of belonging that you hadn't expected to have found amid a crowded party. 

The sun started emerging from the horizon. You had again drifted into silence, held together by your interlocked hands. The city below begins to stir, but it’s just you and Mark up on the hillside. Lost in thought, you find yourself stealing glances at him, taking in the way the sunlight catches in his hair and his eyes seem to hold a universe of stories. Something magnetic about him draws you in and makes you want to learn more about the person behind the easy smile.

Finally, Mark breaks the silence, his voice is soft. "You know," he begins, turning to look at you, "I'm really happy we met tonight."

You meet his gaze, feeling warmth in your chest at his words. "Me too," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Immediately, you think of the perfect simile; it’s like you’ve known him forever.

“Can I… kiss you?” He suddenly asks. You’re caught off guard, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been staring at his lips—maybe he got the cue. You nod and suppress a smile. As you lean in you see his eyes flicker shut and he reaches up to put an arm around you. And then, finally, your lips meet his in a soft, gentle kiss. Your lips fit together like a puzzle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ramble: GUYS I FIGURED OUT HOW TO PUT THE PICTURES TOGETHER IVE BEEN PUTTING THEM TOGETHER IN SLIDES AND SCREENSHOTTING THATS WHY THEY WERE SO BLURRY

[eqt-95]

💖 rough kiss / hot and heavy / making out

please👉👈

oh anon, i am definitely the wrong person for this one, but here goes nothing:

- - - - - -

Lena has a secret. 

No, it isn't that she’s doubling as a superhero in her free time. That’s Kara.

And no, it isn't that she has an unquenchable crush on her best friend. They'd solved that eons ago.

And definitely no, it isn’t that her toy collection is extensive and well-stocked. Everyone at game night already knows about that.

The secret went like this: 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Lena replied with the innocence of a Luthor.

“So it just so happens that the bartender who has been making eyes at you all night is now being sized-up by my sister?”

“Correlation without causation. I thought you were a scientist,” Lena shrugged and tried her best to conceal a knowing smile.

“Uh-huh,” Alex replied with an arched eyebrow that said much more. “And that fact he grabbed your ass on the way to the bathroom?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Well I for one am not about to do a bunch of paperwork over an NDA because Kara can’t keep it together over this ass-hat groping you, so if you will excuse me-”

- - - -

And this: 

“Hey babe?”

“Hm?”

“What’s this?”

Lena looked up from her work and squinted at the letter gripped in Kara’s hand. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just some administrative stuff,” Lena hummed and returned to her work.

“Doesn’t look like ‘nothing’. It looks like you were served.”

The scowl that followed was one that could be seen from space which meant it was impossible to ignore from across their apartment. Lena rolled her eyes. 

“It’s just Morgan Edge playing bully again, darling.”

“Yea but,” Kara continued, eyes skimming the multi-page document that now had a few extra crinkles in it. “He’s suing for patent rights? Who does he think he is-”

“It’s nothing, really. I’ll handle it tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it in the first place.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just-”

But Kara was already gone through the terrace door and halfway across the city.

- - - -

And most of all, this:

“Ms. Luthor, The Sun has accused you of covering up nearly a dozen fatalities since-”

“Lena Luthor, it has been alleged that Obsidian North’s stolen technology was found in L-Corp’s latest-”

“Ms. Luthor, how do you explain the recent deaths associated with-”

“How do you sleep at night when your maniac brother is still on the loose-”

“No comment,” Lena repeated for the eighteenth time. She pushed ahead, trying to find a path between L-Corp’s front door and the waiting car that would take her home. Unfortunately, the best path was also the longest. Worse, when she looked ahead, her car was nowhere to be found. What she did find was wall-to-wall traffic and no chance of freedom.

Great.

More questions were hurled, a flash sent blotches across her vision. Another came an inch away and sent her staggering. It felt like a garbage compactor except worse because garbage compactors weren’t sentient creatures known for shouting lies while doing its job.

She clambered through the crowd and found a gap. She glanced around for her security guard who was lost amidst a second offshoot of angry journalists and misinformed citizens. Now wasn’t the time for manners as three journalists and an oversized camera pivoted toward her, so instead of waiting, she booked it down the sidewalk.

They followed with vigor and ignorance and a stubbornness that would have made Lillian proud, shouting rather uncreative conspiracy theories and growing closer by the second. Lena turned a corner then, in a move she might have patted herself on the back for, slipped into an alley. She breathed a sigh of relief until-

“Ms. Luthor-”

“Lena Luthor-”

“-you can’t hide from the truth.” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Lena heaved, staggering backwards in the kind of stereotypical way she mocked television shows for.

The cameraman was fastest, breaking into her personal space and jamming the lens into her face.

“Ms. Luthor-”

“-is it true Supergirl won’t speak to you?”

“-how does it feel having National City’s Darling reject you?”

What happened next might have been comical if Lena weren’t breathless, irritated, and fuming that her anniversary dinner was being interrupted by a wave of wannabe reporters hanging onto the coattails of the marketing dollars that funded their tabloids. 

Be that as it was, she was not in her usual smirky-mood when the burst of air sent all of them turning on heel to find an equally irritated and equally fuming Supergirl towering over them with the kind of anger usually reserved for the extra-bad baddies.

“S-supergirl,” they all seemed to whimper in unison. 

The camera was fumbled then dropped. The lens splintered with a deserved crack. A few short seconds later, it was the only evidence anyone with a press badge had been there.

“Where’d you take them?” Lena asked when Kara whooshed down moments later. She pushed off the brick wall and closed the distance, raising her hands to fix Kara’s ruffled cape.

“I considered the middle of the Pacific-” Kara shrugged.

“Oh is that right?” Lena smirked, letting her hands climb to brush an errant strand of hair into place.

“But then I remembered the whole ‘hope, help, and compassion’ thing,” she continued, her own hands finding a home on Lena’s waist. “So I dropped them off just outside the city limits instead.”

And there it was: the secret. Somewhere between Kara, all beet-faced and rage hovering over the cowering reporters and then dragging said group of gaggling reporters to the edges of town, Lena felt it - that tiny pang of warmth and safety and appreciation that always came with her overprotective Kryptonian. It also usually sent a tiny pang of something else through her.

“Well that was very big of you,” Lena replied, the gap between lips narrowing. “But just so you know,” she continued, her breath ghosting across Kara’s lips, “I had it handled-”

Kara skipped her lines and closed the gap, pressing lips, hands, and body against Lena until her back found the brick wall again and nothing but the taste, touch, and smell of Kara consumed her. Lips dragged to Lena’s jawline then neck then exposed shoulder. Hands grabbed against the restrictions of fabric. Lena cursed (again) the constraints of a supersuit.

“I really need to design you a new suit,” Lena huffed.

“Probably for the best.” Kara replied, fingers venturing dangerously close to public indecency. “Alex says we need to leave before someone sees us anyway.”

“Tell Alex to stop committing voyeurism. There are websites for that.”

“Oh, she did not like that,” Kara snickered, lips pressing a final kiss to the crook of Lena’s neck. 

“Turn that thing off and take me home, Supergirl.”

“What about our reservations?”

“I have other dinner plans tonight.”

- - - - -

ask game

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Sariel’s Melody of Return Translation

*Light and Night Masterlist | Sariel’s Personal Masterlist *Join my Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Sariel’s tag will be #For Night, For Causation *T/N: If you want me to translate something feel free to send in Recordings/Screenshots!

"The bright sunlight shines through the wide glass windows, shimmering down upon the familiar area of the airport. The anticipation and joy of being reunited with him added a spring to my step as my spirits began to soar..

I’d taken such a long trip that I couldn’t help picking up the pace as I headed towards the exit.

The long-awaited Guangqi City awaited behind the exit alongside the person I love.

The hustle and bustle of the airport grew clearer in my ears as I looked around, searching for his familiar silhouette within the airport crowd.

Who is he?"

❖☆————— ⊹ For Night, For Causation⊹ —————★❖

The airport’s arrival pick-up point was crowded with people. Everyone eagerly looked around, anticipating the joy of reunion.

I glanced at the screen of my phone. Sariel’s avatar was still as familiar as ever, but the red dot I was expecting on the upper right corner of it never appeared.

I’d sent him my flight information a couple of hours ago, but before I could get his reply, I was made to quickly switch my phone’s flight mode on at the flight attendant’s insistence.

And I never got his message even after the plane took off.

MC: Is he mad at me?

I scrolled through the messages that we’d exchanged during the time I’d been gone. My replies had been sparser than usual, which was a given since I’d been a little busy as of late. And adding on the fact that I had been in an unfamiliar place… It’s no wonder that he’d been left on read a couple odd times.

The uneasiness in my heart only grew as time passed, so I opened up our chat once more.

My message: What are you doing?

After sending it, I remembered that I’d once joked to him about how “What are you doing?” could be read as “I’m thinking of you.” He’d been confused about it at first, and I even made fun of him for being unable to understand romantic hints.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Locking my phone, I walked out of the airport.

There were lots of people in front of me, but a large bouquet caught my attention. It was a bouquet of pure white flowers dotted with a few sparse leaves, reminiscent of green trees that had been blanketed by powder snow from the sky— romantic and dreamy.

The grand bouquet drew a lot of attention, and the silver-haired man who held it had long since turned his attention towards me.

MC: Sariel!

I immediately ran towards him. I didn’t know where to start after seeing his familiar face after being gone for such a long period, so I just shouted his name in a rather aimless manner.

MC: Sariel…

Sariel: The dumb bird went out for a whole spin and came back, yet why is she still fond of wearing such a stupid smile?

MC: Were you waiting long?

Sariel: Not really, just 20 minutes.

Sariel places a bouquet into my arms.

Sariel: For you.

I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me when I thought of him waiting in a crowded area for 20 minutes while holding such an extravagantly large bouquet and ignoring the stares of passers-by.

MC: When did you learn such an extravagant way of picking someone up from the airport?

Sariel: Someone watched a French movie the day before yesterday and sent me a video of the male and female lead’s airport pick-up scene. Was it not a hint?

It was a French romance film named “Reunion” where the male and female leads finally managed to overcome all obstacles and embrace each other at the airport at the very end. The scene was so moving that I recorded it and sent it to Sariel.

I had only wanted to share it with him, but it looks like he’d misunderstood that I’d also wanted to have such a romantic pick-up.

Peeking at his face, I imagined him silently trying to guess what I'd intended when I sent that to him, and how he’d secretly prepared a surprise for me. I suddenly felt that this misunderstanding, although unfortunate, was actually quite romantic of him.

MC: The male and female leads in the movie hugged each other too. So why aren’t I getting one as well?

I pouted and looked up at him.

There was a smile reflected in his eyes as he took a step closer, opened his arms, and wrapped me in an embrace.

The familiar fragrance of white sandalwood lingered in my nose. It was this moment that truly cemented the feeling that I was well and truly back.

I stood on tiptoes as I silently reached up to his ear.

MC: They kissed too, you know. A French kiss…

Sariel: …

I couldn’t help but snicker from the way his ears turned pink. Stepping away from his arms, I looked up at him.

MC: If you're doing it, then you might as well do it till the end, right?

The airport had just reached its peak hour. I knew that he wasn’t very good at being intimate with me in such a crowded place, but his reaction was so cute that it made you want to incessantly tease him about it.

As I was waiting for Sariel to speak up and turn down the suggestion, he surprised me by leaning down and drawing closer….

My heart seemed to be beating to the wrong beat as it thumped wildly in my chest. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

A moment passed before a soft and warm kiss fell on my lips, but it was fleeting, leaving as soon as it came. My cheeks burned when I looked at the people all around us.

Sariel: Not all movie scenes have to be copied 1:1.

Yet you kissed me in public? I inwardly cursed.

Sariel: But that is something I do want to do.

The corners of his mouth lifted as he held my hand.

MC: It’s only been a while since we last saw each other, but your ability to surprise me has grown by leaps and bounds since the last time I saw you.

MC: Did you secretly read a love guide or something?

Sariel: …You really are one dumb bird.

Now that I think about it, I’d been so worried that I might have given him the cold shoulder earlier, but it looks like I’d just been worrying too much.

MC: So you deliberately left me on read just to surprise me?

Sariel then showed me his cell phone. The last line he’d sent to me wrote “Okay, I’ll wait for you.”

MC: Funny, I never received it.

MC: And why don’t I see the text message I just sent you?

I unlocked my phone and pulled up the messenger app. The circle beside the message was still spinning.

It was only then that I realized that there was a reminder attached to the message: Your phone has no credit.

MC: Oh, I was out of prepaid credit. I thought you…

Sariel: You thought, what?

MC: I thought you were ignoring me because you were mad.

I replied, and Sariel only watched me quietly, looking into my eyes.

Sariel: I won’t ignore you, let alone leave you without prior warning.

Sariel: I will be by your side for as long as you're willing to have me.

Those two sentences instantly put me at ease. He’d said that he’d wait for me and that he wouldn’t leave me of his own accord.

A ding sounded from Sariel’s phone.

He tapped on the screen and saw the prior message I sent.

It had been successfully sent to his phone after a few minutes, probably having automatically connected to the airport’s wi-fi.

Sariel thought over it for a moment before lowering his head, his long fingers tapping against the screen. A few seconds later, I received a message from Sariel.

Sariel’s message: I’m thinking of you too.

[gilverrwrites]

Call me Tim

Tim Drake/Reader, 2K

[Say his name, P2] AN: I did not expect part 1 to be se well recieved, here hoping part 2 was worth the wait! CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, semi-public foreplay, mildly stalker-ish behaviour on Tims part.

Tim had always told himself that fucking his fans was not a thing for him. Not a kink. Bernard was different, he just had so much passion. He would have been into him regardless of whatever he was fixated on.

Then you happened.

Ever since he’s been telling himself that it was coincidence, not causation. And again, he liked you before he found out you’d spent your formative years kissing cutouts of him. Well, he doesn’t know that part for sure, but he liked to imagine it. Point being; your adolescent crush on him was not the driving force behind his attraction to you.

But as he found himself plotting ways to naturally bump into you as Tim Drake-Wayne, it was becoming increasingly harder to deny that he maybe was, a little bit, kind of into it.

Hitting you up online? Too out of the blue.

Turning up at your house? Way too much.

Then one night the perfect opportunity arose. He’d overheard you making plans to meet some friends at an uptown bar later that week. He wasn’t scheduled to patrol that night. Despite the logical part of his brain telling him it was a creepy move, he just couldn’t pass up the chance. Red Robin had to be so cautious around you, but if you hit it off with Tim he could let a little loose around you.

That’s how he’s ended up sitting on the table adjacent to yours, listening in on your private conversation and praying you wouldn’t recognise him before he was ready.

“So have you guys ever had someone ask you to call them by a different name when you’re… you know?” He nearly coughs on his drink, sitting bolt upright as though it will help him hear better. He trusts you not to spill on who the guy is. You’d had that conversation already, but he wants to hear you say Tim again.

“What like ‘Daddy’? Yeah, my ex was into that.”

“No.” Your voice has grown so quiet, laced with a sheepish laugh just like the morning you’d confessed about your crush to him. God, he wishes he could turn around and look at your face. He’d bet you’re all flustered. “Like, another actual man’s name?”

“No, hon. That’s weird.”

“Who’s the guy? Whose name?”

“You don’t know him.” You shut down the first question. He bets your fidgeting, looking at anything other than your friends as you consider your next words cafeully. “But he wanted me to call him Tim. As in, Tim Drake.”

“That’s really weird. Did he know you used to be down bad for him?”

He knows it's mean to turn around now, and worse, risky. Liable to scare you away but it’s so worth it to see the five stages of grief cross your face in the span of 3 seconds when you notice him. You're like a starstruck deer in the headlights as the word “yeah” dies on your lips. If he cupped your cheeks right now, he's certain the heat would burn away any remnants of his fingerprints.

The whole table falls silent as one by one, your friend’s clue into the situation. If it weren’t for their sickly amused smiles, and the foley of the bar, you’d think the world has stopped turning. You wish the world would stop turning.

He’s staring at you with an almost impish smile and your fight, flight, or freeze kicks in. You opt for stuttering “I have to piss!” As you abruptly leave the table.

I have to piss. You just bumped into The Tim Drake, and the first things he heard from your mouth were that you’d called his name while hooking up with someone, and I have to piss.   

The queue to the solo bathroom in this place is always long, and usually you’d be annoyed but tonight you’re grateful for the extra time to compose yourself, or you would be if you apparently hadn’t been followed.

“So, is he your boyfriend?” Where the fuck had he come from? You hadn’t seen him approach at all.

“He’s…” Not, not your boyfriend. You see each other at least weekly, sometimes you cook for him, and he often brings you gifts. However, you’ve never had that conversation, you don’t even know who he is under the mask. You don’t have his phone number. Despite multiple sexual encounters, you hadn’t even seen him naked. Now that you think about it, there’s a definite power imbalance in whatever you have. “Why?”

You’re much more defensive of his teasing than you are with Red Robin. Understandable, you didn’t really know Tim, and he’s really hit you out of left field. This is all turning out a bit crueller than he’d intended, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Your apprehension tonight is as tempting as your timidness had been last time. It’s like he’s trying to seduce you on hard mode.

“Just tryin’ to find out if it would be appropriate to buy you a drink, maybe ask you to dance?” He sounds off. Not like he does in the TV interviews and podcasts you’d heard him on, but still familiar. It’s hard to focus on, however, because he’s standing so close. Close enough for you to smell the fresh sweetness of his aftershave, for you to see the features you’ve been fantasising about up close.

“This place doesn’t have a dance floor.”

“We could go to another place.”

“Oh no buddy, I’m not going to any secondary locations.” He can’t help the smile that crosses his lips. You remembered his safety tip. He just hopes it reads as anything other than prideful to you right now. “Don’t think for a second just cause you heard what you heard that I’m gonna fall all over you.”

“Buddy? You can call me Tim.” The obvious innuendo has you cracking a genuine smile. Your nerves are still apparent from the way you're tapping your fingers against your thigh, and your refusal to make meaningful eye contact with him but he’s chipping at your walls. There's four people waiting ahead, and he wonders if he can breach your shields completely before it's your turn. “Or if it makes you feel better you could call me whatever that other guy’s name is.”

“Is this how you get people to sleep with you? You tease them relentlessly until they give up just so you’ll go away when it’s over?”

“Ouch.” You have a point, he’s never behaved like this before. He’s always been a self-confessed smartass, but you just bring out something especially brazen within him. Something wicked. He’s being a jerk, but you’re chewing your lips and sneaking awed glances at him, which implies you’re more into it than you’d admit. “Am I not what you expected?”

He probably would live up to your expectations had this been your real first meeting. If he wasn’t already comfortable around you, he’d be enamoured by your appearance, too skittish to match your keen whit or ask about your hobbies, not when you look at him with those eyes. If anything, the typical Tim Drake persona might even bore you by rambling on about detective novels or WayneTech.

“You’re why people say you should never meet your heroes.”

“Okay, fine.” Maybe he had gotten a bit carried away messing with you. “Can I just ask you one more thing, and then I’ll go away, or buy you a drink? Whatever you want.”

Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as you consider his offer. It’s not an uncommon tick for people to have, but it’s certainly more endearing when you do it. Eventually, you nod, conceding to him and offering real, esrnest eye contact. You’re still willing to hear out your favourite celebrity, and a pang of guilt at once again abusing his authority thrums through his chest.

It doesn’t stop him from asking, however. “What clued this guy into your crush on me?”

“Pictures.” You frown, still not breaking eye contact. Something is different. The nervous energy you’ve been emanating since he’d followed you to the line has subsided, replaced by something tantalisingly self-assured.

“Pictures of what?”

He tries to pry but you give him nothing.

“Of you.”

“What kind of pictures.”

The answers here don’t matter to him anyway, he already knows. He’s just trying to segue into a specific set of questions.

“Just, pictures.”

“How ambiguous.” Here’s his chance to try and satisfy that burning fantasy. “Did you practice kissing on them?”

“What? No.” Your tense shoulders say otherwise. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I don’t know.” Perfect. He gives his best noncommittal shrug before leaning in closer, balancing his weight on the wall behind you until the distance between your bodies is closed. He can still pick up hints of your body wash, but it’s washed out but the smell of a parfum that he wishes he could spray on his pillows at night. “Thought I’d offer you the real thing to compare.”

Your response isn’t what he’s expected, but it is what he’s hoped. Your lips press softly against the corner of his lips, and he can’t stop from locking a hand on your hip, not to force anything further, but to stop you from backing away. Although, the wall he has you partly confined against has been doing a pretty good job thus far.

He needn’t bother, however, because it doesn’t take long for you to grow more confident. This is the moment he’s been waiting for.

His mouth parts at the first sign of your tongue and you eagerly explore his mouth. He tastes like IPA, hoppy and warm. Your hands boldly play across his chest, until you fist the fabric of his shirt and tug him closer, deepening the kiss until he moans into your open mouth.

Your sudden boldness is doing things for him. Head spinney, dick hard things. Thoughtlessly, he ruts his hips, rubbing his clothes cock against your lower abdomen until you pull away with a laugh. It’s his turn to be nervous. You’re looking at him with something fierce and canny.

“Excuse me.” A clearly unamused man interjects himself between your embrace to point at the bathroom. “Are you waiting?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tim is surprised by your chipper poise, as you smile politely at the man. He’s even more surprised when you hook your fingers into the give of his leather belt and proceed to drag him with you into the cubicle, locking him inside with you as you offer thanks to the stranger.

“What are you doing?”

“Comparing with the real thing.”  You grace him with another, hard kiss, backing him against the door. Your tongue is hot against his already heated skin as you hurriedly work it along his jaw and neck. He remembers how you’d looked when you’d first noticed him earlier and wonders if his burning face looks equally as nonplussed as he lets you have your way with him against the bathroom door.

He hisses when you plunge your fingers below his belt once more, this time unbuckling it. You’ve fucking cracked, he must have broken something in your brain. There’ll be exaggerated stories about this all over the Gotham Globe’s home page tomorrow. Hell, if he cares though.

“You’ve changed your tune.” He comments, bucking his hips, helping you free him from his boxers. Your fingers lock around his base, and it throbs at finally being touched by you. He’s wanted so badly to fuck you for months but as Red Robin, he’s had to be careful, had to put his guard up which had resulted in a very altruistic sex life. But Tim Drake could fuck you. Right here, right now, Tim Drake-Wayne would fuck whatever hole you’d give him and the thought of it has him losing composure fast.

Your lips lock in one last frenzied kiss before you drop to your knees, and you look like an Angel sent from hell, looking up at him from beneath his reddened cock, with heady eyes and salacious smile.

“So, Red.” Shit. His heart skips a beat. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s not sure what gave him away, but he doesn’t have a chance to care before you spit on his dick and start to pump with a deliberate rhythmic pace that has his head rolling back against the door. He’s not sure if he wishes he’d never done this at all, or if he’d done it sooner. “What name should I use tonight?”

[smile-files]

welcome home's character-color-coding, and what it might mean going forward... the color theory :D

hello neighbors!! last night i had an epiphany... perhaps someone's made it before, but either way, it struck me, and i just have to talk about it!!

in this latest update, eddie was absent for the majority of the homewarming media -- namely, he was MIA for basically everything new on the main site. his only time to shine was on the secret site, in which he was still isolated from all of his neighbors.

this was stewing around in my brain for a while, until i remembered... until the bug update, none of the text on the site contained purple.

this is the menu on the current site -- any purple in these options was not present in the original menu: the letters just cycled through a red-orange-yellow-green-blue-pink loop. oddly enough, certain pages present on the original site -- such as 'the neighborhood!' -- had their text in the menu updated to include teal and purple, while certain pages new to the bug update -- such as 'stickers' -- lack these new colors.

not to mention how the logo, containing only the red-orange-yellow-green-blue-pink color loop, was not updated to include the new colors.

this is all worthy of note because all of our characters are color-coded! julie is pink, wally is red, sally is orange, frank is yellow, poppy is green, howdy is teal, barnaby is blue, and eddie is purple. the absence of purple in the site's typography would suggest the absence of eddie, which we have certainly received -- of course, correlation does not equal causation, but it's still an odd coincidence.

though, if we follow this to its logical conclusion, then something is also bound to happen to howdy -- for his color, teal, was also absent in the site's original text.

another odd thing is that howdy, eddie, and wally are the only neighbors in welcome home to have non-alliterative names (howdy pillar, eddie dear, wally darling). this likely has no real significance, but it could imply some tie between the three -- and, if eddie and howdy are the victims here, given their colors were originally missing, wally being roped in with them despite having his color on the site since the beginning might imply that he was the one behind what happened to them.

i guess if we wanna really go crazy, home has no color assigned to them... so does that mean they're every color? or none of them? what would the former, or the latter, imply about their fate in the story, if this color theory has any real significance? if they're every color, then they're omnipresent... the mastermind behind it all. if they're none of them, their color was always missing from the website... they're the ultimate victim. though that's going a bit overboard, no?

anyway, please tell me what you think!!! thank you, and have a nice day :)

[tatsumessy]

How they kiss you - {blue lock men}

nsfw down below

Hiori Yo - cheek kisses

One thing he made a tradition is when he comes home from a tiring practice the first thing he does is he comes to find you where ever you are. Whether you’re cooking dinner, in the shower, working out or watching tv he always comes and cups both sides of your face then gently presses multiple kisses on your cheek. He once said that you were his charger, why? Because his battery gets drained when he’s outside of the comfort of his home or when he’s away from you for too long so he needs you to recharge him. HE ACTUALLY HAS YOU SAVED IN HIS PHONE AS ‘MY SEXY CHARGER’ 💀. You gotta love him though, he will always prioritize you first and whatever you’re needed before spending an unhealthy amount of time gaming.

Isagi Yoichi - temple kisses

Save this man because he is so in love with you. He spoils you with every little things he wants for you!! And he treats you like the princess you are. He’d be running off the field right after his game to search for you, when he finally finds you he kisses your temple and let’s you know that he’s going to go take a quick shower then come back out. The paparazzi and fans EAT UP the two of you, they all love your cute innocent relationship. If only they knew what goes on behind closed doors, this man is a beast. Not just in bed but out of bed, he’s like the ultimate husband. Cooking dinner, running you a bath, giving you a massage even if you didn’t ask for it. He likes doing this for you because he appreciates your love and support for the things he wants to do, especially with soccer.

Itoshi Rin - forehead kisses

It would be during those late nights where he’d be reviewing film and taking notes, you’d be asleep next to him. He’d look over letting out an exhausted sigh knowing that you were exhausted and probably wasn’t sleeping well because of all the noise and the lights still being on, but you didn’t care because Rin was working and you cared. He cared, that’s why he put all his stuff up and turned off all the lights, he’d pull you into his chest melting into your soft breathing and steady heartbeat. Leaning down to press his lips against your forehead he heard you hum in satisfaction before drifting off to sleep himself.

Nagi Seishiro - neck kisses

Especially during sex. Imagine this. You and Nagi hadn’t seen each other in a LONG time and you two missed each other, you went from making out of the couch to being naked on the bed with Nagi pressing his body weight onto you. After not having sex for a while Nagi was always causations with just shoving his dick inside of you. So while he’s slowing inching himself deeper into you, he’s gently sucking on your sweet spot listening to the small moans and whimpers dripping from your mouth. When he finally bottoms out and your clenching repeatedly around him as his tip pokes the spongey spot, your hands grip his hair letting him bite your neck then kiss it once again. Even after sex and the two of you have cleaned up and are cuddling for the night, it’s like a comfort thing for Nagi. He likes to relax into your body while peppering kisses on your neck.

Bachira Meguru - makeouts

If he had the chance, he’d do it everywhere. Anytime at that. The most intimate moment the two of you had when the both of you realized when you two loved making out was when Bachira lost a game and he came home really upset, all he really wanted was to be with you and comfortable. The two of you just ended up with your lips connected to each other, he’d have you straddle his lap while his hands rested on your waist keeping you still on top of him. Kind of like Nagi your kisses calm him down when he’s acting too hyper at night when the two of you should be going to sleep. Even after his games right when the last point if scored, he’d run over towards you and attacks you with sweaty hugs and get distracted by your pretty face that while his teammates are calling him to come back, he’s holding the back of your head keeping your mouth on his as the two of you make out infront of thousands.

Hyoma Chigiri - pecks/ hand kisses

Chigiri doesn’t like PDA, he made that clear when the two of you started dating and you didn’t mind. Just he was never set on his word if that makes sense, he’d always want you to play in his hair, or kiss his cheek, etc. He liked being doted on by you and treated like a prince. But when he did have those rare moments every once in a blue moon, where he’d be so entranced by you that he would hold your hand tightly at the beginning of the night. And while you two sat quietly towards the end of the table listening to his teammates and their partners conversation, he would continuously bring your hand up to his mouth to kiss it. Or when no one is paying attention he’d lean over using his hair to block the two of you and peck your lips, blushing a bit once he pulls away. Chigiri is really vulnerable with you especially when you two are alone, that’s what you lived about him.

[xmultifandomsx]

hard earned lessons

Dick Grayson has lost people before. He has arguably lost more than most. It comes with the job. He used to try and fix his grief, trace the good in his life back to those terrible moments as some kind of twisted explanation. He would never have met Bruce and then become Robin, he never would have met any of his brothers, if his parents hadn't plummeted to their deaths. If Jason hadn't died he would never have met Tim or bothered to eventually patch things up with Bruce. And it went on and on in endless loops, trying to find joy in the grief that constantly seemed ready to devour him from the inside out. Then one day he stopped. He figured it was okay to let the pain hurt him, let the joy sting like a thousand guilty needles. He decided this as he watched another CEO Tim Drake-Wayne clip. He would barely see the edges of the CEO mask Tim wore so seamlessly. Where did Tim Drake end and Timmy begin? It was a different kind of grief to mourn someone living, he realizes. It burns watching from afar, seeing the boy who was once his brother grow up into a young man through magazines and gala smiles. It's cruel knowing that Tim is right there, alive and breathing, but he may as well be dead to Dick. The countless nights they'd spent holed up in his dingy Bludhaven apartment eating enough takeout to give Alfred a heart attack were gone, faded into some comedic sidenote. Hours upon hours of patrolling and training together until they could predict each other's heartbeat wasted because now Dick could hardly even predict when he'd see Tim again. Dick had tried once to fix the mess that was his relationship with Tim. It had only resulted in Tim offering his understanding, explaining gently in that voice he reserved for little, lost kids on patrol that 'Sometimes people just grow apart.' Dick knows there's so much more to it. He can see the wariness in Tim's eyes every time they talk like the smaller boy can see the rising wall of Arkham just over Dick's shoulders. Dick doesn't know what he can do or say anymore. He knows there's so much he could do or say. Too much. So he does what he always does and falls back on Bruce's training. Give them space and let them come to you. But they both know Tim will never go to anyone. So there they wait, immortalized between pages, brothers grieving a living loss. Dick learns that sometimes nothing good comes from grief and the good that comes after grief is not causation. He has Tim to thank for that lesson.

[bro0klyn3]

Main 6 quotes

Gov: I can’t believe my birth certificate says F... Gov: ...How did I fail being born?

Gov: Plants are basically the ideal friends. They are quiet, friendly, and easy to please. All they need is a little water and fresh earth, and they are perfectly happy to lie there all day in the sun. And they don’t make increasingly awful life choices, or hide their relationships. They have never, as far as I know, f---ed a bee.

Gov: I am not an early bird or a night owl. I am some form of permanently exhausted pigeon.

Gov: Be careful, I thrive on negative attention.

Gov: Please! Pretend I'm useful!

Louie: If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous. Gov: What if it bites me and it dies?! Louie: Then you're poisonous. Jesus Christ, Gov, learn to listen. California: What if it bites itself and I die? Louie: That's voodoo. Florida: What if it bites me and someone else dies? Louie: That's correlation, not causation. New York: What if we bite each other and neither of us die? Louie: That's kinky. Texas: Oh my god.

New York: Today, California took my phone, and in five minutes, they sent high-resolution close-up photos of Gov to the following people: Florida, Louie, Texas, the neighbors, the bank, my accountant, San Diego Blood Bank, and Shake Shack's text bot.

Florida: Dumbest scar stories, go! New York: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Texas: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned. California: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Louie: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn. Gov: I have emotional scars.

Gov: So, Florida is late today. Anyone wanna bet why? Gov: I say they slipped through the subway grate and is having terrible s-- with the mole man. Louie: I don't know about that...I think either their alarm clock didn't go off, or they're in line at the bank. California: Take this more seriously! Florida was clearly taken in their sleep! Texas: I bet they tucked themselves into the bed too tightly and got stuck. New York: Maybe they fell into another dimension where they're more interesting...? *Florida arrives* Florida: Sorry I'm late - there was a problem at the bank. Louie, clapping their hands in excitement: HOT DAMN!

Louie: *standing at the top of the stairs* What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase? Gov: I accidentally fell down. Florida: TEXAS PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay THEIR part of our rent! New York: Gov bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than they did falling down it, so I slide down the banister to get my money. California: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by New York.

*when a child starts crying in public* Louie: *tries to make the child laugh* Gov: *tries to play a game with the child to make them calm down* Texas: *gives detailed instructions to the parents* California: *cries with the child* New York: *ignores the child* Florida: *is the reason why the child is crying*