#so i started steel ball run..

[dahldahlbills]

gyro zeppeli… im obsessed with you

[schadenfredde]

Tell me I'm wrong

[right-there-ride-on]

Deciphering the Civil War Arc

I will openly admit that even on my third readthrough of SBR this is probably the arc I had the hardest time grasping. It's clearly thematically rich, but what, exactly, is it trying to say? This is my attempt to better understand what the hell is happening in this stand battle.

I'll start off with a little bit of Hot Pants and Johnny, because their parallels fascinate me.

HP revisits the idea of 'sacrifice', one of the most prominent themes in SBR (brought up even in a light way during the very early chapters, when we see Gyro must choose between what to carry with him into the race, tossing aside whatever he decides not to take.)

Notably, Johnny and Gyro just had another arc dealing with the idea of 'sacrifice': Sugar Mountain. Johnny has already sacrificed the corpse parts to save Gyro (quite a few times, actually). The difference here is that the sacrifice is no longer governed by an equivalent exchange.

We know HP began collecting the parts for the Vatican in order to try and do something that would earn them 'forgiveness' for the death of their brother. Now, under the effects of Civil War, it's shown that the 'sacrifice' of the parts (to a supposedly 'larger cause' (namely Valentine, though this could be substituted with the Pope)) demonstrably did nothing to alleviate their personal guilt. How awfully Christian. HP advises Johnny to hold on to the corpse - if giving up the corpse parts to a larger cause did nothing, then perhaps holding onto them will unlock the path to forgiveness - but before the conversation can continue HP's guilt quite literally begins to suffocate them.

We now introduce the idea of not only 'sacrifice', but 'sins' and 'purification'. Guess the Christian influences aren't only aesthetic after all.

Of course, it's 'pure water' (holy water) that can purify one's guilt (guilt being the end result of committing a sin).

Now the idea of 'sacrifice' is being correlated with the ideas of both 'sins' and 'guilt'. A sin here is, essentially, the idea of 'sacrificing' for an unworthy cause (e.g. killing someone for a selfish reason).

Chapter 56: Civil War (Part 1)

We cut to Gyro encountering Axl Ro and Civil War. These are Civil War's first words, which tells us something about the theme of the arc. The question being posed is, put simply: Are your sins ('sacrifices') worth the guilt you now carry?

SURPRISE STARPANTS PARALLELS:

HP too is seeking the corpse parts to find forgiveness (to bring their 'negative' up to 'zero'!). There are some differences worth noting: HP kept the cause of their brother's death a secret, while the cause of Nicholas' death was quite literally shouted to the entire staff by Diego. The guilt ate at them inside, so they turned to God to find forgiveness. Johnny, meanwhile, pretended not to give a fuck about anything to avoid being constantly told to his face by George that his brother's death was his fault. HP hid among the holy while Johnny drowned in debauchery. But both of them seek forgiveness and some sort of return to normalcy, which they both believe can be achieved through the corpse. Through the corpse, all 'sins' can be forgiven - even sins committed in the corpse's name (think of all the people killed in the corpse's wake, noted by Valentine in Chapter 86: Ball Breaker (Part 3) - he literally calls Johnny a sacrifice!)

HP's backstory is immediately followed by the return of Johnny's own ghosts - he himself says that he's haunted every night by his guilt, manifesting inside and outside of dreams as Danny. Yet, even though Johnny claims he can shoot it (put his guilt behind him), we see that he continues to waver. Johnny, like HP, is caught between selfishness, guilt, trauma and redemption.

Johnny's illusion via Civil War is literally Nicholas parroting back the rhetoric about his death that George and Johnny believe about Johnny himself.

Chapter 57: Civil War (Part 2)

Ok, manifestation of trauma and guilt is here. How do we beat it? Jesus Christ himself gives Johnny some extremely cryptic hints.

We'll round back to this. I'm not even sure my interpretation is correct, but hey, that's what this whole exercise is for.

'Pure water' (holy water) only works for a while. Guilt (in the form of Danny) continues to hound Johnny, while HP and Gyro are literally being suffocated by their own. Furthermore, even once Johnny confronts what he perceives to be the source of his guilt (manifested via Civil War), we see that killing Axl Ro does nothing but strengthen Civil War, because in order to 'purify' himself of his 'sins', Johnny has sinned once again (by killing selfishly). The guilt thus compounds, unloading Axl Ro's guilt onto Johnny while Axl Ro, through the 'sacrifice' of his life (generally seen as the most selfless act one can do - think Lincoln's Gettysburg Address, which I'm sure the location of this arc is a reference to), is the one actually purified.

This is not a condemnation btw I think Johnny should be allowed to kill whoever he wants.

Chapter 58: Civil War (Part 3)

Axl Ro, through the 'sacrifice' of his life - or, more accurately, through having the resolve to sacrifice his life - is the one to achieve purification. Someone committed the ultimate sin against him, leaving him 'purified'.

He even spells it out for us:

The pursuit of the corpse has caused countless casualties. Those who were 'enemies' to Johnny and Gyro were 'allies' to Valentine. It really does come down to perspective. Anyway, the point is, Civil War has now condemned Johnny as the ultimate sinner. 'His' guilt (Axl Ro's) begins to quite literally start tearing Johnny apart.

Jesus again warns Johnny:

Jesus essentially guides Johnny through his trauma, helping him understand that he’s worthy of forgiveness and thus deserving of healing - but only if he himself has the resolve to move forward (and fight for the corpse). It's quite interesting that Jesus appeared to Johnny instead of, you know, the person of faith in the next room. Could it be because, as Johnny implies in Chapter 56: Civil War (Part 1), HP hasn't 'truly' devoted themselves to God, but rather is using religion to try and alleviate their guilt (because it turns out they were not actually gathering the parts purely for the Vatican, but also for themselves)? I can't say. I'm not well enough versed in theology to even begin unpacking that. Anyway, Jesus helps Johnny understand the truth of his trauma, and the 'sins' he supposedly committed against Nicholas and his father. Prior to the confrontation with Axl Ro and his vision of Jesus, Johnny even states, "I didn't throw him away! You threw me away! You didn't even come to my races! You didn't even come to see me in the hospital when I got shot!" (Chapter 58: Civil War (Part 3))

Some part of Johnny already understood he was unfairly blamed for Nicholas' death, but that's still guilt (his greatest 'sin') that he's carried with him up until this point. His heart is wavering because some part of him doubts he's even worthy to have the corpse parts - doubts he's worthy to be forgiven. But with Jesus' final warning, Johnny finally understands that Nicholas' death is not his burden to bear, and he no longer wavers on what must be done. He resolves to complete the corpse and be 'purified', even at the 'sacrifice' of his life.

Still, we're in the middle of a stand battle. Johnny is still under the effects of Civil War, but this guilt isn't his. Axl Ro is the one running from his guilt, his sin, his sacrifices. He allowed a massacre to occur in exchange for his own life - hardly an equivalent exchange. He's in the one in possession of the corpse, but he is unworthy of it.

Axl Ro becomes so enraged at the thought of someone like Johnny touching the corpse that he 'sacrifices' Johnny in order to keep the corpse to himself - thus committing the ultimate sin and condemning himself once again.

Chapter 59: Gettysburg Dream

Johnny, however, has been purified. We see through Axl Ro's comments and panic what kind of person he really is. He looks down on Johnny, calling him 'trash' and cursing him out (while holding the Holy Corpse!) This is a common theme is Steel Ball Run. We see it with Blackmore and later Valentine too - each of them proclaims themselves the only ones worthy of the corpse. Why? Well, their goals are loftier than Johnny's, better by default simply because they claim it's for a noble cause. Their sins should be forgiven because they did it in the name of good.

Yet, from what I know of the Bible, Jesus wasn't the sort of person who would have accepted that argument. In fact, Jesus was well-known as a miracle worker and man of the people. He probably would have much preferred healing a disabled man to helping a man kill a young girl (Blackmore), aiding a Confederate soldier (Axl Ro), or making one people's superior over others simply according to which nation they belong to (Valentine).

SBR ended with the corpse locked away, everyone left alive concluding such a thing shouldn't be in the hands of anyone. So, despite Gyro and Axl Ro's protests - is Johnny threatening to destroy the corpse truly a bad thing? Does anyone really 'deserve' the corpse at all?

Should anyone truly have the power to decide who deserves to be forgiven? To decide which causes are just and which ones are not? To decide what peoples deserve the right to good fortune?

To decide who has worth and who doesn’t?

Final notes:

In the case of Nick's death, Johnny was not guilty. In the case of collecting the corpse parts and being willing to kill to keep them? A little blurrier, but by examination of the text we see that, a majority, if not all of the time, Johnny and Gyro only kill in self-defense. It's not really a 'sacrifice' (sin) then, but an equivalent exchange - someone attempted to take their lives, and that person's life was taken instead.

Notably, self-defense (or rather, the protection of another) is the same excuse Valentine uses at the end of Chapter 59: Gettysburg Dream, and we see that he is free of the effects of Civil War.

I think (and this is a pretty big I think), Civil War's themes culminate in this: You cannot earn forgiveness as long as you deceive yourself about your sins. Whether the guilt is yours or forced onto you by somebody, you need to understand it. Forgiveness will not be achieved through sacrifice and sinning, but by being able to look yourself in the mirror and be okay with what’s happened to bring you to where you are.

To put it simply, don't run from your guilt / ‘sins’ (as HP did through the church, and as Johnny did when he shot anyone but himself) and don't blame others for your mistakes / guilt (Axl Ro). The only way to be truly ‘purified’ of your guilt is to have grace with yourself and find the resolve to move forward.

Civil War, the arc and the stand, is about overcoming trauma, forgiving your mistakes and accepting redemption.

I am totally open to discussing this further, as even now I am not so sure about this conclusion. This was just my reading and I'm very open to hearing that of others!

Thank you for reading.

[zelle-png]

Drew this like actual months ago but I forgor about it 💀

[raidenloml]

horse jojos or whatever

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

[beanghostprincess]

omg i just found your jjba edits and all your edits are so so good!!!! Plus the tswift songs omg you are fueling my brainrot so well

I just saw you finished stone ocean, do you plan on reading steel ball run?

THANK YOU!!!!! 💖💖 That means the world to me because I barely have any views on TikTok and I'm kinda in my flop era there lmao 😭 This is really sweet 🥰💖💖

And YES the second I finished watching Stone Ocean I started reading Steel Ball Run because I have a very intense obsession with this thing now-- So I'm currently doing it 🫶🏻🩵

[scary-monsters]

✰ broken boy 🏇

a diego brando character study

rating: teen [will change as the story progresses] current wordcount: 10.1k chapters: 3/? summary:

Diego Brando - Britain's beloved genius jockey. Swimming in money, trophies, lovers, recognition… and yet, he starves for more. With a shady past, dangerously unclear motives, and an explosive ego to boot, it's no wonder his inner circle consists of only himself and those that can benefit him. (Canon leaves out a lot. This fic begins with ten-year-old Diego and aims to fill in the gaps throughout the rest of his life while still remaining true to his core character. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.)

[greetings-inferiors]

It’s insane that every single time I talk about Jojo with someone and I mention that “I haven’t seen the anime but I’ve heard it’s great” and every single time they say “wait but you’re the bigger Jojo fan I know, you haven’t even watched it?” Oh damn yeah you’re right, because the anime is the only medium Jojo has ever released in. It’s so weird that I know every part of Jojo inside out without ever having watched it. On a completely unrelated note omg the new chapter of part 9 of the manga jojo’s bizzare adventure is releasing tomorrow, something I post about on my story that I’ve seen you have seen every single month, and that implies that I have read every previous chapter of the manga, otherwise why would I be excited about a manga I’ve never read?

[shsl-panic-at-the-everywhere]

Welp.

I just finished part 7…

This really has taken over my life and I regret nothing. On to part 8 lol

[kiwiwyrm]

It's 1:30am and Im overwhelmed by feelings that I dont have the brainpower to explain but the fact that Johnny names his horse Slow Dancer makes me go softly insane in a gentle n warm way

[cryptidowl]

Tag 9 people you want to know better: tagged by @tragicomedykitty

1) 3 ships: not much of an avid shipper, the culture around is something that makes me wanna combust. But if I had to pick: Lucifer/Solomon (Obey me), Trevor/Sylpha/Alucard(Castlevania), that’s it. Sorry.

2) First ship ever? Robin/Starfire. Was also a huge fan of Raven/Beastboy.

3) Last Song: Cheshire Kitten (We’re all Mad Here) by S.J. Tucker I think

4) Last Movie? The Addams Family. First time watching it.

5) Currently Watching? Castlevania and Jojo part 6

6) Currently Reading? Jojo: Steel Ball Run, Howl’s Moving Castle, the Hypnosis Microphone Manga

7) Currently consuming: Nothing, just water ig

8) Currently Craving: some kind of triple chocolate ice cream.

Tagging idk who uh, whoever wants to do it ig

[silenthill2ps2]

FINALLY FINISHED THE NEW STONE OCEAN EPISODES

[atinylittlepain]

i need joel x f! reader friends to lovers 😩🫶🏻

i took this and ran with it

Birds of a Feather

joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

joel has met his match, and though he's trying to keep things platonic, his brother has other plans for him.

warnings | 18+ smut, drunk tommy miller requires his own warning, angst, and a little fluff

wordcount: 4.1K

................................

Joel Miller has finally met his match, and he knows it. He had balked at it initially, when Tommy assigned him to patrol with some woman. But it wasn’t just some woman. Folks around town call her Sunshine, a running joke since she’s anything but. He didn’t know anyone could be more standoffish than him, but that first shift together, the steel in her stare and the tick of her jaw had thrown any of his ideas about her right out the window. Is it any wonder they became friends so fast?

He doesn’t like to talk much, she doesn’t either.

He has a dry sense of humor, but hers has to be even drier. 

She refuses to suffer fools, and he enjoys watching her put men in their place.

He’s slow to thaw toward people, and so is she, both of them melting in each other’s presence.

Where he’s from Texas, she’s from Tennessee, the remnants of their drawls twining up in easy conversation.

He likes a stiff glass of whiskey at the end of the day, and she’s always game to join him.

But maybe one of the things he likes best is that while he’s good at pool, she’s fucking great at it, and he doesn’t mind getting his ass handed to him on Friday nights at the bar, not when it’s her doing the handing.

“Are you asleep, Miller? Or are you really just that bad at pool?” Her grin flickers under the dim lights of the Tipsy Bison, and he knows that it’s a sight not many people get to see. She cocks her head to the side, spinning her cue stick lightly in her hand as she smirks at him.

“Easy, darlin, gonna make you eat those words one of these days.” She’s not Sunshine, not to him, he refuses to call her what everybody else does. She had confessed to him once, on a long patrol shift, that she hated the nickname, but was too proud to ever say anything about it. In turn, Joel had told her about how growing up, Tommy managed to get everyone at their highschool to start calling him “Skip,” something he hadn’t told anyone in close to thirty years. His residual embarrassment had been worth it to see her smile in that moment, and it was about then that Joel realized he had made a certified friend. Though everyone else seems convinced that something a little more is going on.

“Shit.” He completely scratches his next turn, sending the cue ball right into one of the pockets as she snickers.

“What was that about me eating my words?” He’s distracted, just a little, but who could blame him when she’s wearing a pair of cut-offs that should be illegal and a tank top that turns downright obscene when she leans over the table for her own turn. So maybe there is something a little more going on, but it’s one sided, he reckons, and he’s not about to fuck up the first friendship he’s cared about in years just because he’s thinking with his dick. But, apparently, that’s not the only thing he has to worry about.

“Well, howdy, if it ain’t Jackson’s favorite tag team, frick and frack.” Joel hasn’t seen Tommy this drunk in decades. The town council had been celebrating that night, though he’s not quite sure what. Regardless, Tommy is sloshed as he loops and arm over Joel’s shoulders, a lazy grin on his face as he looks between him and her.

“Joel, Sunshine. How are we this fine evening?” While she snorts at his slurred-out question, Joel is less than amused, shrugging his brother off of him with a huff.

“Touchy, touchy, big brother. What’s got your panties in a twist? Did you break his heart already, Sunshine?” Joel can feel his face blanch at Tommy’s drawling words, glancing between him and her. While she’s still smiling, the crease between her brows suggests she’s as thrown off as Joel is.

“What’re you on about, little Miller?” Tommy lets out a hoot of a laugh at her question, leaning up against the pool table and grinning at her.

“What I’m on about is the sweet little crush this big guy right here has on you. It ain’t healthy, really, Joel’s got it bad for you.” If they weren’t related by blood, Tommy wouldn’t have teeth in his head by now, but instead, Joel settles for letting his jaw all but drop to the floor as he looks between his giggling brother and her. She doesn’t look so amused anymore.

“It’s true! Ain’t seen his eyes get like that in a long time, those big ol’ puppy dogs of his are for you and you only, Sunshine.” Before the horror of it all can really settle in, Tommy sighs, slapping Joel on his shoulder and shuffling off with a low murmured “where’s Maria?”

Her eyes are wide when he finally looks at her, lips parted, complete bewilderment splashed across her face. And before she can say anything, Joel is turning heel and booking it out of there before everything comes crumbling down around him.

…

She’s stunned. By the whole thing really. Tommy’s ridiculous musings, the way that Joel didn’t deny any of it, and then the way he booked it out of the bar like he wanted nothing to do with her. She wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that her night was going to turn out like this. Not that she would tell anyone, but she loves Friday nights, pool nights, when she gets to spend just a little more time with Joel than usual. So for it to turn so sour so fast, she finds herself at a loss, clutching her cue stick in her hands, stuck standing where Joel left her.

There’s no two ways about it, she likes him. Things feel easy around him. She hadn’t met anyone else in town who she could talk to like she can him. He gets it, being on the road, not always having a warm place to sleep, what it means to kill. They’ve both seen a far different life than the one they’re living now, and talking to him makes her feel a little less crazy. And yes, maybe she also likes the strong cut of his jaw, the way his deep brown eyes crinkle up when she talks to him, the broad span of his shoulders, and how he squares them up when she challenges him. You could call it a crush, but she’d call it stupid, something that would only ruin the friendship, the one big good in her life, that she has with him. 

But now all bets are off. She’s got nothing to lose, and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get the truth from him.

She knows him well enough by now to have a pretty good idea of where he stomped off to, and she doesn’t waste any more time standing around with a dumb look on her face, heading out of the bar and into the hazy light of the summer evening.

There’s a bench tucked away behind the stables, partially hidden by a small thicket of trees. A while ago, they had set it as their meeting place before patrol shifts, always getting there a few minutes early to set a plan for the day, or just to talk quietly before they had to head out. She had caught him there a few times on their days off too, an easy slump in his posture, his arms stretched out over the back of the bench. He told her he liked the quiet of it, and when she attempted to apologize for intruding, he had said that she couldn’t bother him if she even tried. It’s where she finds him now, his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands, though his eyes jerk up when she clears her throat.

“We gonna talk about what just happened?” He lets out a long sigh, sitting back on the bench and squinting up at her.

“I’d rather not.”

“Oh, c’mon, Joel. You know I’m not gonna let this go, not until you talk to me.” With that, he gets up from the bench with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t have anything to say, except I’m sorry that my brother is such a fucking idiot.” She calls after him as he trudges away, but it’s no use, he doesn’t so much as look back over his shoulder at her. Knowing him as well as she does, she can easily tell when it’s time to stop prodding, when he’s shutting down and she won’t be able to get anything out of him, so she drops it, at least for now. 

She knows that they’re going to have to face whatever this is eventually, most likely the next morning when they’re set for a patrol shift together. With the hope of a clearer conversation on the horizon, she goes home, her mind still spinning from the strange evening. She lays awake in bed with her thoughts, the only conclusion she reaches being that she just wants the truth now, knowing that there will be no going back to the way things were, regardless of what he has to say.

When she gets to the bench the next morning, eyes bleary from a night without sleep, it becomes clear that Joel is going to make this more difficult than it has to be, as he is nowhere to be found. And he doesn’t show up either, not even when it’s time for their shift and she’s mounting up at the stables. She lets out a bitter laugh, though, when she sees who does show up.

“Did he send you down here?” Tommy huffs, leaning up against the door to the stables with a sheepish grin.

“Would you be less pissed at him if I said he didn’t?” 

“What? He ask for a new patrol partner already?” She knows it sounds harsh, but she doesn’t care, anger starting to feel like the appropriate response for how childish Joel seems to be acting. Tommy just sighs.

“Look, Sunshine, I feel awful for what I said last night. I was so fucking drunk I didn’t know up from down. But it’s true what I said. Reckon he thinks you hung the moon in the sky or some shit.” That makes her pause, but she stifles the kick of her heart with another scoff.

“What’s your point, Tommy? I have a shift to cover.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“Huh?” Tommy lets out a breathy laugh at her furrowed look.

“I’m covering your shift– figure I owe you both for messing shit up so bad. I got a buddy of mine coming down in a few to patrol with me, but you’re off the hook. And I think you oughta go talk to him.” 

“Joel made it pretty clear last night that he didn’t have anything else to say.” Tommy’s frown deepens at her clipped words, and he takes a few steps into the stables, leveling a surprisingly serious look at her.

“My brother is a stubborn ass, I won’t deny that. He doesn’t really like people, or feelings for that matter. But I know him well enough to see that he’s different around you. And maybe it’s selfish of me to say this, but you’re good for him, and I’ll be damned if the only reason you two don’t wind up together is my big fucking mouth.” His words stun her silent long enough for him to step forward and place a hand on her shoulder.

“Just go talk to him, please? If anyone can get through to him it’s you.”

…

He has to admit to himself that he was hoping, just a little bit, that it’d be her knocking on his front door, his chest tightening when he sees that it is. Though she doesn’t seem all too pleased to be looking at him, her arms crossed over her chest and an edgy arch to her brow.

“We gonna talk like adults now? Or are you gonna keep sending little Miller to do your bidding?” He knows this tone of voice. It’s the way she speaks to people, usually men, that she’d rather not give the time of day to. He’s always been amused by it, the stiff jerk of her chin, the eerie calm of her words. But it’s never been directed at him before, and suddenly there’s nothing amusing about it. 

“I– yeah, yes. Let’s talk.” Real smooth, dumbass. She doesn’t wait for him to open the door any wider, brushing right past him and into his living room before turning on her heel to look at him.

“Well, there’s no real way around this, is there?” Her question hangs between them, a drooping thread threatening to snap, though even now, they still move comfortably around each other, sitting down on opposite ends of the couch and mirroring each other’s posture, elbows on thighs, heads tilted toward the other. 

“Where do you wanna start, darlin?” She huffs out a laugh, more like an exasperated sigh as she looks at him, the steel gone, only a quirked worry left in its place.

“The truth– I want you to tell me the truth, Joel– about what Tommy said last night.” He figures he’s got nothing to lose at this point. That either way, whether he’s straight with her or not, their friendship isn’t ever going to be the same, so he takes a deep breath, and lets the words come rushing out. 

“He wasn’t wrong– I mean, what he said? It’s true, I feel– I, uh– I like the way I feel? When I’m around you? And, um– Jesus christ, what I’m trying to say is– I feel very– fondly toward you.” He’d like to disappear now, to dissolve and slip down beneath the floorboards so she’ll stop smiling at him like he just made a complete fool of himself, because he did. 

“You feel fondly toward me, huh?” And now she’s making fun of him, a light laugh on her lips as he grumbles at her question. But she’s quick to catch his despairing spiral, scooting over and placing a hand on his knee. 

“I’m sorry, Joel. I don’t mean to tease. But for the record, the feeling’s mutual.” Oh. He can feel his eyebrows shoot up at her words, and her grin broadens at his reaction.

“You mean– you– what’s that word? You mean platoni–” She’s kissing him. She’s kissing him and his brain is going blank but he doesn’t need to think, not really, moving like he knows, like he’s been waiting for this. She’s as stubborn as he is, and it shows in the way they struggle against each other, pulling on clothes to get closer, teeth clashing just a bit as she slips into his lap, pushing him back against the couch as he drags her as close as he can. When she does pull away, he doesn’t let her go far, his hand holding her steady by the hilt of her neck, breathless and smiling.

“No, I don’t mean platonically. Not at all.” And then she’s kissing him again, and it’s quickly becoming his favorite feeling, though the way her hips are pressed up against his is a close second. Joel is starting to realize that they share a few other things in common as well.

They both have a hard time keeping quiet, his low groans mixing and mingling with the pitchy sighs she looses in between kisses.

And they both seem to want to get impossibly closer, his nose mashing up against the slope of her cheek as she winds her arms over his shoulder blades, holding him chest to chest.

Where he tries to get the upper hand, licking into her mouth, squeezing at the swell of her thighs, she just does the same, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him just how she wants him as she ducks down to mouth at the arc of his neck.

Where he demands more, she’s happy to give, and to take in turn.

How they make it up the stairs and into his bedroom is beyond him, greedy hands peeling away clothes on the way up, leaving a trail of desire that they’ll have to trace later. 

She’s strong, just as strong as him, and she likes control, just as much as him, handily flipping them around on the bed so that she’s straddling him once again, leaving him wide-eyed and breathless at the sight of her. He’s got scars, and she does too, their hands running over the silvery marks, prayers that there won’t have to be anymore. Her bare cunt is a hot drag over his pelvis, and he’d like more than anything for her to shift her hips just a little lower, a little closer. But instead she ducks her head down, eyes flickering up to his as she lays a smear of kisses over his chest that begin to trail lower until she’s kneeling between his spread thighs. Joel thinks he just might die as he watches her spit into her hand before wrapping her palm around his throbbing cock, a hiss spilling between his teeth as she deftly sweeps her wrist up, her thumb swiping over his slit to smear the pooling pre-come there down his length.

“S’pretty, Joel. Prettier than I imagined.” He can’t help but groan at her words, scrunching his eyes shut and pressing his head back into the sheets.

“You– fuck– you thought about this, darlin? About me?” She smiles at his question, her lips just grazing the underside of him.

“Mmhmm, thought about you a lot. About this. We’re so alike, you and I. I couldn’t help but think that if anyone would be able to handle me, it’d be you.” And with that, she licks a salacious stripe up his length before taking him into the heat of her mouth.

“Christ– I  can– can handle you, darlin. Handle you however you want me to– fuck, that mouth of yours is a dream.” She hums at his praise, the vibration shooting straight down his cock as she bobs her head. It’s messy as hell, the slick sound of spit, her palm pressed flat against his stomach to hold him still, the drag of her tongue along his length, and the way her eyes stay on him, hooded and hazy under her lashes. 

“Thought about you too, y’know, like-like this.” His words make her stop for a moment, pulling off of him with a sigh, her hand picking up where she left off.

“And? Am I living up to your expectations?” Her words are lilted by her grin, and the sight of her lazily stroking his cock, her head tilted as she looks at him is nearly too obscene to be real.

“S’better– you’re so much better– fucking perfect.” It’s like he realizes all of a sudden how bad he wants to touch her, and then it’s all he wants, all he needs, coaxing her back up to meet in a kiss before rolling them over, swallowing the peel of laughter she lets out as he hovers over her. 

He wants to be the only one who gets her like this, the only one to hear her sighs, soft and melty in his sheets, sweet only for him as he swipes his fingers through her folds, dragging her pooling slick up to draw circles over her clit.

“So wet for me, darlin. S’just for me, huh?” Her chin jerks in a nod, whatever control she had now held in his hands, her hips canting up into his palm. 

“Just for you, Joel. All for you– please.” She doesn’t have to say anymore, he knows what she wants because it’s what he wants too. More. He presses two fingers inside of her, unable to stifle the groan he lets out at the feel of her cunt clenching around him, muffling the sound with a drag of kisses across her chest. She keens up into his touch, back arching when he takes one of her nipples into his mouth, tongue laving over the peak before letting his teeth just barely graze the delicate skin. And he learns her, all of her, the dips and swells of her body, the spot he can press against inside her that makes her brow crumple, the scrape of her nails down his back, the little whimpers she tries to silence, biting down on her lip, the way she tightens around his fingers when she’s close, and the broken sound of his name on her lips when she finally unravels for him, panting and twisting in pleasure. 

“That’s it, darlin. Feels good, huh? I did good for you?” Maybe it’s a little selfish, what he asks, but she’s happy to answer anyways.

“So good– did so good for me, Joel. Fuck, I really want you, baby.” He can feel the heat flushing up his face at her words, his mind going dizzy with the praise, and all he can do is give her what she wants, slotting his hips against hers and notching his leaking tip at her entrance. 

It’s unreal, it’s gotta be, the way she spreads open around him, close and pliant, her knee hitched up along his waist as he presses into her, both of them sighing at the stretch. For a moment, they’re still, just feeling each other, pressed so close, sweat-damp skin sticking from the contact, choppy exhales cooling down their shared heat. And then, Joel learns that they have something else in common. They both like their pleasure with just a tinge of pain.

It starts slow, the rock of his hips into hers, but she makes it clear with the press of her heel into his low back and her hand tugging in his hair that slow is the last thing she wants, and Joel is more than happy to oblige. The thump of the headboard against the wall, the slap of skin, harsh grunts and crackling moans twine around them, wrapping them up in a desperate symphony with each harsh grind of his hips against hers. 

He wants to leave marks, wants her to remember this when she runs her hands over the bruises he leaves, a purple and blue mosaic of where he touched her, where he wanted her most. And she seems intent on the same goal, nails scratching down his shuddering back, pulling him closer so she can mouth at his neck, her teeth nipping just a touch unkindly, making his eyes roll back from the sharp suggestion of pain. 

“Fuck, darlin– made just for me, huh? So good like this– wanna feel you like this– want you to gimme another one. Be so good for me, honey, c’mon.” 

…

All she wants is him. The hot drag of his cock inside her, his hips mashing up against hers, the heavy grip of his hand cupping her ass, pulling her hips up to meet his. His scruff, scraping against her chest, lips a smudge against her skin, each grunt a vibration that runs through her bones. The way he keeps her head from hitting the headboard with his forearm protectively curled there, holding himself up just enough to move his hips against hers, to look at her when she comes for a second time, spasming around him.

She feels like liquid beneath him, undone by pleasure, only vaguely aware of the breathy chant of please, please leaving her lips with each exhale. But he knows what she’s asking for, and Joel gives it to her, pulling out with a groan, his spend smearing across her heaving stomach as he pants over her. He flops down onto his stomach next to her with a sigh, one arm slung heavy over her waist, turned on his cheek to look at her. 

“Get you cleaned up in a minute– just need to not move right now– shit.” She has to laugh at his breathless exclamation, catching the crook of his grin out of the corner of her eye before turning onto her side to get a better look at him. Hair wild, sticking up all which ways, and cheeks flushed under his altogether boyish smile, she can’t help but lean in for a kiss that he gives up willingly to her. 

“Remind me again why we waited so long to do that?” That makes him laugh, squeezing her hip to pull her closer as he turns onto his side

“Because I was an idiot.” She hums at his answer, brushing his hair back out of his face before letting her palm settle along his scruff.

“It takes two, we were both idiots.” 

“Some pair we make, huh, darlin?” 

Some pair indeed.

[asapeveryday]

THE LOOK OF LOVE - HQ

basically: the exact moment they realized they liked you

featuring: (timeskip)hinata, (high school)kageyama, tsukishima, yamaguchi

warnings: none!

a/n: lmk what we think of this!!! I can take requests for any other characters you wanna see with this prompt :)

♡HINATA - didn’t realize until you came to visit him in Brazil for the first time. he’d become accustomed to the foreign country and learned to live with the little aching feeling inside that he was missing out, but still something more than melancholy emotions would fester every time he’d open his phone to see this Lock Screen: a picture of his high school volleyball team seniors with you as a manager included. When you let him know you were coming to Brazil for vacation he wasn’t just excited, he was nervous. Absolutely nervous, like, pre-game nervous, and he had no idea why. You two were good friends during school. He enjoyed spending time with you, he sought you out to help him study, to go for bike rides or just to pepper in the gym till evening. When he came to meet you at the airport and you ran to hug him tight, your touch practically burned and he wasn’t expecting to feel you so plush against him, hearts beating against each other. The sound of your voice and the sight of your face after so long turned on a light bulb in his head. Right there in the middle of the airport he understands why he once craved your company over others, why he’s jittering at the thought of your eyes on him. The saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder” had never been more true…not that he would know of the line anyways.

♡KAGEYAMA - is almost frustrated at first. He’s laying on his bed tossing his volleyball towards the ceiling while thinking his usual thoughts. Going pro, quick attacks, tough classes, new training. It’s his nightly routine, it’s practiced and comfortable. Until his mind drifts to you and the ball hits his face. He’s not sure why his steel-like focus is being tested now, and he’s not sure what you’ve done to cause this, but it’s alien and hard to avoid. For every distraction he thinks of, a scene of you plays in his mind in retaliation. For a moment he stops tossing the ball and just holds it to his chest, brows furrowed and mind racing. He lets the thoughts of you run rampant, a memory of you watching his game, another of your interactions in class, a conversation he should have forgotten but he hasn’t. He brushes it off still, until he sees you at school and he gets this lurching, elevator-dropping feeling in his stomach at the sight of your smile. It’s terrifying and it’s exhilarating, like pulling off a new combination during an important game. That’s when begins to understand that despite the newness of his interest in you, despite how different you are from volleyball, the thought of your hand grazing his gives him that same rush he usually only feels on the court. He’d do anything to feel that rush.

♡ TSUKISHIMA - is aware almost immediately, he’s not one to deny his feelings or be oblivious, though he’s not exactly about to confess either. It starts with little things: he catches himself staring at you and looking away just before you catch him, he listens to songs you like on repeat in some effort to feel what you feel when you hear them, he gets the urge to tease his teammate’s a little harder when you’re around (not that it impresses you much, but he can’t help it), he enjoys standing next to you even in silence, he appreciates your maturity and even when you act stupid he takes note of the fact that he doesn’t mind in the slightest. It’s during one of these little actions that it truly hits him though. He’s staring at you again, taking in your features as if it’s the first time he’s seeing them. Unfortunately he’s too slow to avert his gaze and you finally catch him in the act. You don’t break eye contact, it’s just held for a moment across class as if you two are the only ones in the room. He hates how his hands are sweating, and he hates how he’s the first to look away in attempts to seem uncaring, but he knows then for a fact that he likes you. He probably makes it a point to never make it so obvious again, though.

♡YAMAGUCHI - is by far the most emotionally mature of all of them, however he’s not used to girls liking him back. He’s had crushes and he’s grown used to one sided interest, to secret and unrequited affection. For his feelings to truly be validated he’d need the green light from you first and foremost. The turning point for him, from hopeless pining to full on crushing it takes a heartfelt conversation. You’re walking around with him after practice, Tsuki is farther ahead in hopes of getting home earlier, but Yamaguchi doesn’t mind lagging behind if it means talking with you. It’s dark out and the air is crisp, you’re sucking him in with talk of an ambitious future, fruitful sports seasons and eagerness regarding his improvements as a player. Your hands are just next to each other, dangerously close to a brush of skin. He has the electrifying urge to let his fingers meet yours but the idea is shut down like it’s muscle memory. You, however, don’t suffer from rejection just as bad as he does, because your pinky entwines with his as your conversation carries on. The two of you both don’t acknowledge the small act of pda, but there’s a mutual expression of giddy content that wasn’t quite there before. It’s all he needs to know you’re someone he’s willing to pursue.

[mokulule]

Trauma Tuesday

This week in Trauma Tuesday I figured why not give Jason some dissection trauma for a change. So warning for that.

DP x DC, dead on main

Next to his parents a man’s body laid on a steel table, chest cut open, ribs broken and sticking up. Everything was glistening red.

“His heart’s not beating,” Nightwing said faintly in horror as they all realized they were too late.

“What have you done!” Danny exclaimed in despair. “Why? He’s human!”

There were lines. Lines he’d hoped his parents wouldn’t cross. Liminal or not, somehow Danny hadn’t expected they’d kill him. Experiment yes, but cut him open so he bled out?

“He’s no more human than you!” His mother snarled.

And that had Danny’s head snapping to the body. Could it be?

He zipped over and pushed his parents away with a shield, instantly they started shooting at him and his shield. He willed it to hold against the ectopowered blasts. Then focused on the body.

If he was no more human than Danny, that would mean- a tiny wisp of cold air escaped his lips as he found it, his core. Small and malnourished and somehow running on the worst ectoplasmic slough-off he’d ever seen; it was fucking beautiful.

“Hey,” he whispered reaching in intangibly cradling his hands around it where it was inside the heart itself. A consciousness shifted inside and Danny felt a wave of relief and he choked on a laugh or a sob, he wasn’t sure.

“He’s alive,” he shouted over the blasts against his shield.

“His heart’s not beating! Even if you could start it-“ Nightwing didn’t have to continue; they could all see what had been done.

But they didn’t understand.

“He’s not gone,” Danny snarled, “Deal with them.” He tossed his head towards his parents. “And I will deal with this.”

He had a core. He wasn’t just liminal. He was like Danny; that was why they’d cut him open.

-

Jason felt floaty, cradled safely in a way that was hard to explain. Distantly in his chest there was pain. It made no sense what was going on?

There was a flash of relief and then a soothing hum met the question, and an echoey voice spoke:

“Try to relax, you’re very bad off.”

Bad off? What had happened?

A shudder of grief ran over him, was the voice crying?

“I’m so, so sorry, they hurt you because you’re like me.”

There was more to the story, a complicated knot of feelings: grief and disappointment, loss, betrayal.

“But look at you, you’re so amazing.” There was a wave of pride and love, large and encompassing and Jason had no clue what to do with it. He felt- he didn’t know how to describe it: Full? Bursting? Like he was about to cry. What had he done to warrant that?

Why? Why would you?

“You are of mine, and that in itself is enough. But you are even like me.” There was a sense of wonder and longing, tickling at the edges of his awareness.

“You are so resilient, somehow you’ve managed to survive even crippled by poisoned ectoplasm.”

He got the distinct impression of a feral smile.

“Let’s see what your core can do with the good stuff.”

It felt like a shock to his chest. A jumpstart and suddenly he felt it. The ball of energy that was him, his essence, his core, and the steady stream of energy being poured in. He was more his core than he was his body.

His body, which he knew wasn’t supposed to be like this, cut open, bleeding, dying. But his body was human and human bodies required so much more than just energy to heal, how was he-

“Don’t worry. Trust, Jason. I’m giving you the energy, just trust your core to know what’s right.”

A frisson of worry shot through him.

What about you?

He felt another smile, and beneath that more affection. Somehow, despite not quite feeling the pain from his gaping chest he could feel fingers tenderly running through his hair.

“It won’t hurt me, I’m also quite resilient.”

-

So as implied here there’s a reveal gone bad in the past between Danny and his parents. They now work for the GIW.

The rest of the story you’ll find out later, there’s probably some other bits here and there that would be good for Trauma Tuesday.