#he’s so emotionally constipated and needs a hug

[peterpparkrr]

Hey would u be up for writing an Anthony Bridgerton fic where Daphne's bff is distracting Anthony so that daphne could enjoy the balls without him interrupting,and they kinda fall in love?????

Sorry that was a hugeeee request. I've never done that before😅😅

Distractions

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: This is a fic that I have been referring to as ‘Anthony without his trauma, but he’s still a dumb ass’ and ‘Anthony doesn’t oppose marrying for love, but he’s still wildly emotionally constipated’  so please enjoy! This ended up way longer than I intended and it still doesn’t feel fleshed out *shrug emoji*

Vauxhall Gardens

“Please,” Daphne begs. “I need your help.” 

“It’s Anthony. I need someone to keep his attention away from me,” Daphne continues. “Otherwise I’ll never dance at one of these balls with someone who isn’t related to me.”

You can’t help but sigh. 

Daphne’s brother loves her, and is understandably overprotective of her. As the “Diamond of the Season”, she’s the debutante that every eligible gentleman (and a few non-eligible men) have set their sights on. Someone needs to protect her. But Anthony Bridgerton would not be your first choice for that task either. He may love his sister very much, but he’s also an arrogant man and a rake. He thinks the worst of all men because he is the worst type of man. And if they were you would understand his behavior. He seems to have assumed that each and every male member of the Ton is exactly like him. The type of man that you try to avoid at these types of things.

“Fine. But you’ll owe me for this,” You grumble as you nod. Acquiescing to your friend's pleas.

Daphne’s your best friend. You’d been close since you were children, you were only about a year older than her, with mother’s who were close friends. She’d been your playmate and then your confidante as you both grew older. With your debut having taken place a few years ago, you’d been eagerly awaiting Daph’s debut, and the chance to partake in these events with a friend by your side.

But her older brother had put a damper on the entire season with his insane micromanagement of Daphne’s social calendar. 

Turning away fortune hunters, you understood, but not letting her dance with a single gentleman at Lady Danbury’s ball? And then scaring off every suitor who came to call on her? It had taken Lady Bridgerton stepping in to convince Anthony that she could call on you in the afternoons without being accosted by men on the walk to your family’s home. 

The man was on a power-trip, and was certain to destroy Daphne’s impressive chances at a great match this season if he kept it up.

“Bring me over, and then I’ll talk to him while you slip away,” You tell her as you spy the viscount’s gaze already searching the crowds for his sister.

She grins as she pulls you in and hugs you tightly, a silent thank you before she grabs your gloved hand in hers and pulls you in the direction of her brother.

“Anthony, you remember (Y/N),” Daphne says as she stops in front of her brother, prompting you to bow your head and give Anthony a small smile.

“Miss (Y/L/N),” Anthony Bridgerton greets you politely with a small bow.

“How have you been, Lord Bridgerton? I don’t believe we’ve spoken in several years, since before you graduated from Oxford,” You say politely.

“I’m well, It has certainly been a while, last time we spoke you had not come out yet,” He replies.

“Yes,” You reply with a quizzical look.

You sigh when you realize that you’ll have to keep up this conversation and come up with something to ask him if you’re to distract him.

“Have you read anything interesting recently?” You finally ask. Settling on a topic that is both non-threatening and that you’ll find at least half engaging.

“I’m afraid I haven’t read anything that isn’t a report from our estates in the past few years,” Anthony admits.

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I suppose I should have known, a man of import such as yourself has far better things to busy himself with,” You tell him, unable to stop the corners of your lips from turning upward. “Like staring down every man who so much as looks at his sister.”

“I- that’s-” Anthony protested before huffing when he realized that the conversation would not be productive. “What have you read recently?” He asks instead.

“Pride and Prejudice and The Heroine were both quite good,” You tell him. Normally you would have continued to push but with the topic of books, you can’t help but give Anthony your honest answers. “I’ve read the recent Byron and Shelley, though I find them insufferable,” You add, your nose wrinkling with distaste.

“I also revisited Shakespeare, I heard the Theater Royal is putting on Romeo and Juliet in May, and I’d quite like to see it.”

“You’ve turned into quite the scholar in recent years, haven’t you?” Anthony asks, a bemused smile across his face.

“I’ve always been invested in my education, Lord Bridgerton,” You reply. “You’re just finally intelligent enough to notice.”

Anthony merely stares at you while you smirk, taking great joy in teasing him. 

“Where did Daphne disappear to?” He asks once he’s recovered from your thinly veiled barb.

“Probably just to the powder room,” You reply banally, the lie easily forming. “I think she was going to try and find your mother afterward.” 

When Anthony’s gaze zeroed on a subject over your shoulder and he seemed to have completely tuned you out you knew that he had spotted Daphne. You turned your own head, searching for Daphne in the crowd only to see her making her way to the dance floor on the arm of the Duke of Hastings. 

“Oh!” You gasp.

That little minx. 

Now you knew why she’d been so adamant to get her brother off her tail. She was interested in his best friend. 

“Did you know about this?” Anthony asks harshly, though his gaze never tears away from the couple making their way to the dance floor.

“Of course not!” You protested. “I-I had no idea!”

“I thought they didn’t like each other,” You offer lamely.

The Trowbridge Ball

“Do you know where Daphne is?” Anthony asks as he appears suddenly at your side.

“Would you care to dance?” You reply.

You know it’s a faux pas. But you don’t really care. Besides, no one can hear you, and you need to distract him with something that will keep him occupied for several minutes.

He looks at you for a moment. Like he’s trying to discern what exactly you’re up to. But in the end, he nods.

“Of course,” He replies as he offers you his arm.

You place your hand in the crook of his elbow and allow him to shepherd you to the dance floor.

“Do you know where she is?” Anthony tries to ask again once the dance begins.

“I’m not your sister’s keeper,” You reply. “And nor, it seems,” You add as Anthony spins you around. “Are you.”

Anthony doesn’t reply and you can tell by his face that he’s still struggling to let Daphne take care of herself. Especially with the Duke’s interest in her.

“I’m sure she is fine,” You finally tell him once you’re facing him again. “Your sister is far more discerning than you give her credit for.”

“I never said she wasn’t-” Anthony begins to protest. “You are baiting me again,” He says as he looks down at the knowing look on your face.

“You’re learning,” You reply with a grin. “I know that you are only caring for her, that you’re overprotective because you love her, but she must marry this season, and you do her no favors if every man with any sense is scared of you.”

“You do not want to let your sister marry a fool, do you, Lord Bridgerton?” You ask him, your tone becoming more serious.

“Of course not,” He replies quickly.

“Then learn to step away,” You tell him.

Hyde Park

You should have expected Anthony to join his family at the park. And with the Dowager Viscountess and Lady Danbury chaperoning Daphne and the Duke, both you and Anthony were left to your own devices. So when he asked you to promenade, seemingly of his own volition you were taken aback.

“Have you ever been out of the country?”  You finally ask after a few minutes of the two of you  walking silently alongside one another. 

“No, I never had the chance,” He tells you. “Have you?” He asks.

“I once went to visit my cousins in Scotland, and the Scottish certainly believe themselves to be another country,” You tell him.

Anthony hums in agreement with your statement.

“How many children do you want?” He asks.

Your eyes widened.

“My Lord?” You ask, clearly taken aback by the question. But he merely looks at you. “I suppose however many I am blessed with, though more than three or four would be a challenge to manage,” You tell him.

“Why haven’t you married yet?” He asks.

“Well,” You say, trying to figure out how to answer such an abrupt question.

“This is your third season,” Anthony says as if you hadn’t known. “You are truly accomplished, and far more eloquent than most of the ladies and the gentlemen in my acquaintance. I would think you would have already made a fine wife.” 

“I think I ought to be offended by what you’re saying my lord,” You tell him with a small smile.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to-” Anthony quickly begins to apologize.

“I ought to be,” You clarified. “But I am not. I suppose I just haven’t given much thought to marriage.”

“Most women are solely focused on the institution,” Anthony points out.

“Most women have no other choice. My family is secure, my parents are in no rush, my brother has a good enough head on his shoulders,” You tell him. “I have a great privilege in that. So I suppose I ought not to waste it by marrying for anything less than happiness.”

“I see.”

“Yes,” You tell him. “Any other questions about marriage I can answer for you? I’d assumed at nine-and-twenty you’d grasp the mechanics of the marriage bed, but I could offer you an explanation-”

Anthony’s eyes widened as his gaze snapped to you, appalled. It was only when he saw the smirk on your face that he realized you were only poking fun at him.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” He replies.

The Penwood Ball 

Distracting Anthony Bridgerton had been much easier than you’d expected. And surprisingly less annoying. You often found yourself surprised by the fact that you were looking forward to spending time with him.

Anthony greeted you seemingly the moment you walked through the door.

“Lord Bridgerton,” You replied with a smirk as he offered you his arm.

Taking it you could have sworn you saw Daphne laughing in the corner with Simon, and so you quickly pivoted on your feet, pulling Anthony in the opposite direction. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said last week,” You told him. Once you had put a safe amount of distance between yourselves and Daphne.

“Why I am not married,” You clarify. “I realized that perhaps the truer answer is that no one has ever asked.”

“That surely cannot be true,” Anthony replies.

“But it is,” You tell him. “Most eligible gentlemen see me as a bluestocking, or as merely a platonic acquaintance. No one has ever seen me as more than that.”

“That is not true,” Anthony replies quickly.

“I think I would know better than you do, Lord Bridgerton,” You tell him with a roll of your eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, we have not spoken in years until last month.”

“Besides, you only prove my point. You are certainly not looking for a wife,” You say.

“What makes you say that?” He asks, turning sharply to look at you.

“Everything about you, starting with the fact that you are wasting your time with me,” You explain. “And ending with the fact that you are the definition of a rake.”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t only spend time with me to get your mama and the other eligible young ladies off your back,” You tell him plainly.

“That is most certainly not the only reason,” Anthony replies. And for half of a second, he almost looks offended by your comment. “I can’t help myself if I find your charm beguiling,” He adds with a smirk.

“My charm? Is that what ruthlessly berating you is called now?” You ask with feigned confusion.

“Your jabs are far from ruthless, my lady,” Anthony replies.

“Then I shall need to sharpen my sword,” You tell him, raising your eyebrows.

Anthony begins to open your mouth and you can see the mirthfulness in his eyes.

“Do not make a double entendre out of that,” You say quickly as the very thought enters your mind at seemingly the same second it does Anthony’s.

“You are delightful company, my lady,” He says with a chuckle.

“And you are a ridiculous man,” You reply, though you can’t help but laugh with him.

The Greenwich Ball

It had been a difficult morning. You’d hardly slept the night before, and your mother, bless her heart, had insisted on you joining her for every single one of her social calls. You probably should have been glad that your mother was not foisting suitors on you left and right, but having to listen to every other mama in town discuss her own daughter’s prospects while you had to sit quietly at your mother’s side was hardly much better. 

It had been exhausting, and now Anthony seemed dead set on making the evening as difficult as possible. He’d wanted to dance and now seemed to think that taking a turn about every room of the party was a worthwhile use of your time.

You weren’t sure what he was doing, or who he was looking for, but when you saw Daphne and the Duke standing in a corner, with the Duke whispering in her ear in a way that was nearly scandalous you quickly remembered your one responsibility and tugged on Anthony’s arm, attempting to lead him back in the other direction.

“What are you doing?” Anthony asks you as you continue to move around him, pushing him into the next room, towards the refreshments table. 

You huff, already annoyed. “I’m supposed to be distracting you!”

To be fair, you and Daphne hadn’t spoken of her little scheme in a few weeks, but you had just assumed you were supposed to continue on with it, as she hadn’t said anything about ending it either.

Your eyes widen when you realize what you just said. Out loud. To him.

“What?” Anthony asks, deeply confused.

You consider lying to him, but your exhausted brain can’t seem to come up with a single plausible excuse. 

“Daphne told me to distract you so that she could spend time with suitors without you scaring them all off,” You admit.

“What?”

“I was supposed to distract you,” You repeat. “And clearly you appreciated the break from your mother’s match-making, otherwise you wouldn’t have put up with me for so long.”

“You thought I was using you?” Anthony asks slowly. His tone is imperceivable. 

“Weren’t you?” You ask slowly. Suddenly far less confident in your assessment of your relationship with the Viscount.

“Of course not!” He replies quickly. “I-” Anthony starts to say before he stops himself.

“But you were spending time with me because Daphne made you?” He asks instead.

You swallow. This was not how you expected this conversation to go at all. 

“Well… yes, but…”

“But what?” Anthony presses

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would be upset,” You tell him.

“Yes, clearly you did not,” Anthony replies, his words clipped as he searches your face. “I need to have a conversation with my sister. Good night,” He states abruptly before walking away from you.

“Wait, Anthony, please, I’m sorry!”

You’d never felt so awful, so guilty before. Or so confused.

“You have a caller,” Your butler announces as you and your mother sit at the breakfast table the next morning. 

You’d hardly slept, but your mother refused to let you sleep in, your shared breakfasts were a tradition that she would not let you get out of easily, and as an early riser, she didn’t understand why others struggled to wake as early as she did.

“A caller? At this hour?” Your mother asks. Clearly surprised.

“A Lord Bridgerton, asking for Miss (Y/L/N),” He replied.

Your entire body froze as you tried to imagine why Anthony could possibly be calling on you. And at nine in the morning. 

“He’s in the drawing-room,” Your butler adds.

“Yes, I’ll go right in, thank you,” You reply as you stand from the table. You merely give your mother a slight shrug of the shoulders as she looks at you curiously. 

When you entered the drawing-room you found Anthony standing in the middle of the floor, seemingly pacing the room.

“Anthony, what are you doing here?” You asked as you made your way towards him. 

He stops completely when he hears your voice, turning so that his entire body is facing you.

“I needed to see you,” He tells you.

“Why?”

“I love you,” He says.

Your heart stops when you hear those three words. Of all of the things you’d imagined Anthony coming to say to you, this was never on the list, not even in your wildest dreams.

“What?” You ask, thinking you might have misheard.

“I love you.”

“I don’t- What is happening?” You flounder as you laugh in disbelief.

“You said last night that I wouldn't have put up with you unless I was using you to get away from my mother and her matchmaking,” He explains. “But you’re wrong. I spent time with you because I liked it, and when I wasn’t with you I was thinking about when I would see you next. It was never about my mother, or my sister, or anyone else for me. It was about you, and how I want to spend my life with you.”

“You do not have to return these feelings, or say anything at all, but I just wanted you to know,” He says. “To me, you’re my person.”

“Oh my,” You finally say after a moment as you look up at Anthony’s tentatively hopeful expression. 

“I think I’m in love with you too,” You tell him, a smile spreading across your face.

“Is your father home?” He asks, taking your hands into his own and squeezing them tightly.

“It’s nine in the morning, of course he’s home,” You tell him.

“I will speak to him at once,” He replies.

“Anthony,” You begin to protest.

“No,” He says quickly. “We are going to get married. And I don’t want to have to wait any longer.”

“Anthony,” You try again, pulling on his hand so that he focuses back on you and on the present moment. “You haven’t even proposed yet.”

“Oh,” He says before dropping down onto one knee.

“(Y/N) will you make me the happiest man alive and agree to marry me?” He asks.

You can’t help but laugh at his ridiculous antics before nodding.

“Yes, yes, of course,” You tell him.

Anthony grins as he looks up at you before he’s pushing himself back onto his feet and taking your face into his hands. 

Anthony couldn’t help it, he kissed you.

[avelera]

The Curious Absence of Masculine Pride and Competition : Diagnosing Why Male Characters Sometimes Feel OOC in Fics

For all the mockery that's been leveled at male writers fixating on the sexiness of female characters with lines like, "she titted boobily down the stairs," (deriding how male authors have POV female characters thinking about their own boobs an absurd amount) I think it's worth noting that female* writers often do the same for male characters, just not for physical traits, but rather for emotional openness, humility, and vulnerability.

(*There's going to be a lot of sweeping generalizations in this essay, but the gender nomenclature is being used as shorthand and is intended inclusively. Likewise, any mention of "cultural norms" is from a US/Anglosphere perspective and not intended or expected to speak to all experiences.)

Men in female-written fanworks often cry a lot more than their canon counterparts. They're emotionally available and vulnerable a lot more often, especially with their romantic partner. They're more permissive about letting another person tell them what to do or letting someone else see them in an emotionally or physically vulnerable state.

This is not a criticism of works that do this. Oftentimes, what fic is specifically addressing is a desire to see something that isn't in canon, or isn't in canon as much as the writer would like, and that often includes a character opening up in an emotionally vulnerable way, especially to their lover.

But, if you've ever wondered why a male character in fic sometimes don't feel quite right, please feel free to read on. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, mostly to address OOCness in my own works, and I wanted to share my thoughts with those who might have puzzled over this question as a reader or as a writer.

(Some fandoms mentioned below the cut: Our Flag Means Death, Captain America, and Punisher.)

Let's start with a common scene: a male character has gone through an incredibly difficult time, fighting bad guys, losing loved ones, or going through a stressful experience. Maybe they're falling in love with another character but don't know if that love is reciprocated. Everything would be so much easier if they would just talk about their internal conflict!

Then the man gets drunk. Finally, while inebriated and crying into his cups, he admits he's in pain, or that he's in love, or that he's scared. This is an emotionally powerful moment that reveals a lot about the character and fandoms tend to eat that stuff up. Yet, when fanworks include this character, they include facts we learned from that time they were drunk, but they don't get the character drunk. The character just says the same things.

The vulnerability of that male character's confession has been included in the fanwork but the obstacles to him being vulnerable and the build-up of what it took for him to reach a point where he could be vulnerable have been largely removed.

I can give a few examples, like Steve in Captain America 1 going to get drunk to deal with the loss of Bucky, only to find he can't which means he's struggling to open up even with Peggy about what Bucky meant to him. Or the often derided need for war movies to put men into extreme scenarios just so they can hold their buddy as he dies. Women sometimes tease the emotional constipation of the need for a man to get drunk or be in an extreme situation before he can hug his male friends, but men I've spoken to like my partner find those moments more true and resonant than scenes common in fic, where male characters start weeping about their feelings the moment they're asked. That's because there are a lot of social restrictions around showing vulnerability to other people, especially other men. And as cathartic as those moments might be on screen, they're also rare. This adds to the power of the scene when an emotionally closed-off or intimidating action hero kind of guy suddenly opens up about the pain he's in, but it's not just a deliberate use of scarcity to make the moment resonate.

The thing is, you'd never know how rare it is for a male character to cry or open up about his feelings based on how often they do so in fic. To go back to Steve Rogers in the MCU as a character, I think the man gets maybe one scene per movie where he has a short, stilted dialogue with someone very close to him about the pain he feels or the fears he has? Those moments are heightened because they're rare but they're also kind of realistically rare. A lot of guys just don't go "bleeding" all over the place. It's kind of a huge problem societally, actually.

To go to another example, I've seen a lot of fics for Our Flag Means Death predicting Season 2 and a lot of them have Ed as an emotionally shattered mess because of Stede's perceived abandonment. Now, OFMD is a very unique story in how often it does allow its male characters to be vulnerable. Fic writers can point to moments on screen of the characters crying and being vulnerable with each other, not the case with every fandom source material. But, I think what's being overlooked is that in Ed's "blanket fort" scene and in the final shot of him sobbing in Stede's bed, he is alone. He has hidden himself rather than be seen crying in public. When he does come out of the cabin to sing about his feelings, he specifically notes how scary it is to be emotionally open like that and Izzy as the voice of Masculine Restrictions shuts him down because of it, showing that there was a reason in Ed's mind that was confirmed by the narrative for why he might want to hide those feelings and that vulnerability from the world. It's not right, it's not fair, it's not the way things should be but that's not the point. The reason Ed opening up was powerful and a singular moment was because it was in spite of those societal restrictions and norms.

Men in general aren't being constipated with their emotions and their emotional truth because they're being deliberately difficult. They do it largely because there is a lot of cultural pressure put on the need to do so and a lot of social punishment leveled at those who cry in public or admit something hurt their feelings. This is where masculine pride comes in to, the need to be seen as strong is a huge social imperative thrown at men. The need to be the best at what you do, to not show weakness, and to show constant strength and mastery are enormous burdens they're expected to uphold.

On the one hand, it's why moments where those restrictions shatter are such catnip to fic writers, but on the other, I think it should be noted that they're catnip scenes because they're very rare. Works written created by men spend a lot of time building up to those moments and earning them, not letting a guy cry until his buddy dies in his arms, not letting him say what's going on or that he feels weak unless he's impaired with alcohol or in some other extreme situation like locked up in an elevator with another character until they finally admit what's going on inside them.

Now, let's get into the craft of writing for a second. One thing writers, especially newbie writers, struggle with is obstacles. Obstacles are what stand between your character and their goals. They can be emotional or physical or mental or symbolic. How a character deals with obstacles is what makes us get to know them and get to like them, it's how we learn about who they are as people. Stede and Ed from OFMD, or Captain America, or any other character you can think of would all approach a locked door in a different way. That locked door is an obstacle to what they want: what's on the other side of the door. How a character approaches the locked door tells us who they are. Do they shoot the doorknob? Bash through it with their shield? Test the knob and sigh comically when it's locked? Pick the lock? Do they go around back and look for another way in? When the character gets through the obstacle, the audience experiences a certain amount of catharsis and pleasure, if the creator has done their job right.

Now, masculine pride and social restrictions are an obstacle to the characters getting what they want. A really delicious and tantalizing one for many, especially if you're writing romance: what will it take to get this guy to admit he's in love? Some fic writers though want to skip cracking open the hard outer shell and just go straight to the juicy vulnerable center. And that's ok! Maybe you don't want to write an entire novel about Frank Castle, the Punisher, or any other macho tough-guy character getting worn down to the point he breaks down crying about the pain he's in. Maybe you just want to write the scene where he sobs in the arms of his best friend about it, just go straight for the catharsis.

But, if you're writing a longer work and you can't put your finger on why the Punisher feels out of character, well, it's because a tough guy character like that usually doesn't want to open up. It's gonna take some intricate rituals for him to be allowed to touch the skin of another man or a woman for that matter. These obstacles to him opening up tell us more about the character and they also serve as the meat on the story for the audience, who wants it to feel special when this guy finally does open up. If he was bleeding his innermost feelings and emotions all over the place, those moments wouldn't feel as special, or realistic, or important. Fic writers who just want more of that moment understandably write fics that just go straight for the pay-off, but the wait and the rarity of that moment is what makes the character, especially a male character, feel in character and plays to the traits like being the strong, silent, stoic type that attracted people to that character in the first place. Therefore, keeping or including or simply being mindful of those obstacles to a male character being emotionally vulnerable also plays to why people liked those characters in the first place and will make your story feel more authentic.

Aside from emotional vulnerability as something men avoid showing, there's also male pride as a motivator. A guy who sets out to be the very best at something probably has a fair amount of masculine-typical pride motivating him or as a trait the creator of that character keeps in mind while writing him.

Stede from Our Flag Means Death is a fairly effeminate man and that's actually a pretty big plot point. It's a plot point in how it makes him lash out at those like Nigel Badminton who don't take him seriously enough, and his wrestling with what it means to be a man is a huge part of his emotional journey in the show. If he just wanted to go to sea, he could have run off and joined someone's crew, but instead, he built a ship and styled himself as a captain, and worked as best as he could to be worthy of the title of "Fearsome Pirate Captain", often to hilarious results, but again those obstacles to him being what he wants to endear him to us. But make no mistake, he wants to be those things. He wants to be his own version of the masculine ideal of a powerful leader, killing with kindness instead of weapons, but he still wants to be one.

Conversely, Ed in the show wants to be soft but it's a jealously guarded secret for him, because he has succeeded in the masculine ideal of being a fearsome pirate captain, and felt incredible pressure to hide that he wanted softness in his life. Even as he was trying to overcome those masculine restrictions he was intensely aware of them.

If one were to write these characters without them being aware of masculine desire to be a fearsome pirate captain and masculine fears around being seen as wanting softness in their life, that makes them behave a certain way to hide this about themselves, they'd be missing a huge chunk of what makes these characters tick.

Again, I don't want to tell people how to write fic. But for those this resonated for with an eye towards their own writing, keep in mind the qualities of masculine pride and competition when writing male characters, as something they're at least aware of even if they're not concerned about it within your particular story. These societal imperatives and obstacles are minefields in the lives of many men and are built-in as expectations for many male characters, especially those by male creators. To ignore these qualities and expectations will make the character somewhat OOC, it might make them behave differently in your story than they might in canon, if canon-realism is what you're going for.

Consider talking to a man in your life about how another man would react to a certain situation, what it would take for them to be vulnerable, or how they'd react if another man saw them in a vulnerable situation. Cis male writers aren't the only ones who get other genders wrong and while it doesn't have to be a consideration your fiction takes, it can help one write more realistic male characters to ask these questions and include these common emotional and societal barriers to vulnerability in your work.

[witch-hazels-musings]

overcome

warning: sfw, fluff (hugs, kisses, mutual pining, established relationship (D,K)) 

includes: Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Thoma 

character x gn reader | anthology 

request: s/o say’s “i love you” a lot | mutual pining with emotionally constipated men: diluc / kaeya | hcs of thoma, diluc having a crush on you | little things Th,Al, would notice about the reader | established relationships***

Albedo 

There was something refreshing about oncoming spring days. The way the earth springs back to life, how it creates new from the dormant and rejuvenates the world in spectacular color. It was one of Albedo’s favorite times of year and he made a note to start his day early so he could gather multitudes of samples of the budding flora surrounding the city. 

He gathered all his supplies and made his way through the knights headquarters, stopping every once in a while to greet several familiar faces. The fresh air filled his lungs with sweetness and clarity and, with a leisurely stroll down the steps, he made his way toward the city gates. 

“Bebo!” A voice called his name but he knew whose it was by the cadence and tone. Only one person called him that. 

Looking up, he saw you standing on the small wooden gallery built along the edge of the windmill. Your elbows rested on the railing, hair tussled by the wind and every once in a while you became obscured by the blades that captured the wind. “Good morning.” He called up to you. Even though you were far away he could see how richly and effortlessly you smiled.

“Here I come!” With swiftness and ease, you leapt off the tower and glided down to him, stopping just a few feet in front of him. “Morning.” You beamed, hands stretching out to reach him, his cupping your arms to stabilize you. 

“What was the occasion for you being on the windmill?” He asked, curious about every little thing you did. 

“I wanted to feel the spring air up close.” 

“And did you.” 

“Yes!” The radiating smile you shared with him made his usually still heart flutter and he watched you enjoy the changing of the seasons in the brightness of your eyes. 

He loves you - he’s never felt this way before - other than the love he shares for those he considers his family, this is different - it’s suffocating in an addictive way, it’s empowering and inspiring, it’s in his every waking moment and even when he dreams - you fill him up and make him see what was always right in front of him

he adores you - it’s easy to see by the way he looks at you, the reverent gaze he has each time he catches you existing - the way he glances up from his work and smiles just because you are close to him - the unbelievable impression you leave on him every time you accomplish something new, tackle a problem, power through  

he’s a bit obsessed - it’s clear by the way his mind drifts to you even when he should be focusing on something else. It’s obvious by the amount of drawings he’s made absentmindedly when lost in thought - or how many times he’s asked you to stay still while your doing something rather mundane - he finds himself wanting to capture every part of you and he doesn’t know how to stop 

Albedo made his way down the hall, his mind drifted from thought to thought as he worked out the solutions to his upcoming problems. Every possible outcome led to a dead end so he knew he’d need to jot out his thoughts on paper if he were to get anymore than a broken result. 

Just then, he heard the sound of a voice floating down the hallway. It’s gentle sway, it’s lovely rise and fall pulled him in until he found himself standing in front of one of the smaller research labs. It was hardly used as most of the items here had been transferred to the larger facility but there were a few who enjoyed the space well enough to use it. 

Peeking in, he regretted that he didn’t bring his notebook with him because the sight that played out in front of him was so peaceful he wished to capture it on the page. 

The light from the sun flooded through the open window, light curtains swayed in the breeze brushing every once in a while against the arm of the one person he expected to find here. Carefully, he leaned against the doorframe and did his best not to disturb you as you worked. You were beautiful and he felt lucky to bare witness to your beauty. 

The crystal bottles reflected the sunlight and color of the liquid inside, each flash threw another rich hue across your face, in your hair, and around the space you occupied. Every time you examined another bottle, the shifting colors illuminated you and he grew jealous of how easily the light touched your skin. 

It was hard enough for him to fully understand his feelings for you but in moments like this he felt them so clearly, so fully, that he couldn’t stop himself from acting on them. “Hello.” He called out to you, feet carrying him toward your side, eyes focused on the welcoming expression you flashed him. 

“Hello.” You replied as you set the bottles on the counter and turned to face him. You straightened on the stool but didn’t get up. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

When he drew near enough, he let his hand rest on the counter before gazing at your face. There was something so enticing about the way you looked but he couldn’t put his finger on it, so, instead, he let his curiosity take over. 

Carefully, slowly, kindly, he ran his finger over your ear, watched how it trailed across your jaw before reaching your chin. The action made you close your eyes and you naturally leaned into his touch. It was something so simple and yet felt so powerful all at the same time. 

“Albedo, are you alright?” You asked as you reached up to touch his wrist. He simply looked at you as if he had become lost in what you were. 

“Mmm, yes. Yes, I’m alright.” He cleared his throat and softly shook his head as if he were collecting himself. “So,” He began, his hand moving to the edge of your arm, “What are you working on?” 

It was unusual for him to be so caught up, so overcome with his affection for you that he hoped you didn’t find it too overbearing. Luckily for him, there was never a chance that you’d be bothered by him, not when you were beyond smitten with everything he was. 

“Let me show you, I’d love to get your thoughts.” 

“Certainly.” He took a step closer to your work. Without noticing, his hand fell down to yours and held it while you explained the goals of your most recent experiment. 

--

Diluc

Diluc made his way down the steps of the Dawn Winery. The weight on his shoulders felt heavier than normal, tasks of the day before had been left unfinished and he knew as soon as he reached the desk tucked away in the hallway of windows, he’d have to find answers to each problem. 

Tensing his back and neck, he carried himself down to the final steps when a lovely and bright face stopped him. “Good morning, handsome.” Your voice soothed the uncertainties he felt, your smile washed away the worries he woke up with, he was drawn to you like moth to the flame and was willing to be engulfed by your everything. 

“Good morning.” He replied, hand resting on the one you placed on the railing, eyes drifting down to see your feet slotted between each beam, toes straining to lift yourself higher to meet him. 

“I hope today goes well, I love you and I’m rooting for you.” Stretching up to him, he felt your grace on his cheek. The warmth of your lips as you kissed him sent a ripple through him, reinvigorated the bones that once felt crushed. When you let yourself drift back down he chased after you and captured your smile against his downturned lips. 

With each touch the debilitating weight on his shoulders eased and by the time he reached his work the answers he needed came just as easily as his love for you did.

he loves you - it’s obvious by the way his eyes drift to you, by the way his expression softens at the sound of your name, by the way your voice carries on the wind and oh so subtly pulls the edges of his lips into a smile 

he adores you - it’s easy to see by the way he cares for you, even in secretive ways; letting you sleep just a little longer, making sure your favorite items are around, ensuring you have what you need to succeed 

he’s a bit obsessed - he’s grown addicted to the way you say his name, to the phrase that slips from the lips he can’t hold himself back from - ‘i love you’ has never sounded so perfect and it never will again -- say it each and every day, never stop, reassure him that he’s the one you want time and time again and he will show you how his affection will never wane 

You caught his attention. It was easy enough. All you had to do was walk by him and all he could think of was you. No matter how many times he pulled himself back to his work, if you were in the same space his eyes drifted back to you and he felt embarrassed by his weakness. 

Was it normal to desire someone so intensely even when you had them? You’d given your heart to him and he to you and yet there was this deep transfixion he couldn’t get away from. What was it to pine for the love of your life while knowing the title of ‘significant other’ was given to them - to Diluc, it was debilitating and right now, he felt overcome by the feeling. 

--

“Thank you, I’ll deal with it this afternoon.” You bowed to the attendants and watched them head off to their next task while your eyes drifted to the documents in your hand. Knowledgeable fingers running through the pages, lip curling between your teeth as you bit the insides. A habit you had when you were deep in thought which was doubly apparent when you didn’t notice him approach or recognize his closeness to you. “Mmm, I guess I’ll -- Ah!” You turned and he watched your expression shift from startled to relieved at the sight of him. He didn’t intend to scare you but somehow he felt ten feet tall knowing just the sight of him would cause you to feel so unbelievably relaxed. “You scared me, sorry. I was distracted can I -- Diluc --?” 

For the first time in his life he let himself feel, he let his heart completely lead his actions as he reached for the back of your head and pulled you to him. Your shoulder bumped into his chest, your hand pressed against his vest while you gripped tighter onto the stack of documents handed to you moments ago. As if his hand were drawn to you, he let his fingers crawl across your hip bone until they curled around it. It was a gesture to keep you steady but he found he was addicted to touching you and, while he would never tell you, the feeling of you in his grip did something unbelievable to him. 

Your trembling voice found his ears as you called out his name but he was too lost in the smell of your hair to notice. His nose became obscured in your soft locks all so he could press a kiss to the side of your head. The first one was quick, almost like a test to make sure you accepted him so, when you didn’t pull away, he went in again and this time he took every moment in. 

The gentle coax of his palm tilting your head so he could work his way down to your ear, near the edge of your jaw. He was encouraged by the increasingly desperate grip you had on his vest. The pride in his chest swelling as your fingers slipped around the hem and puled so intensely that he could feel the fabric tighten against his back. 

How lucky was he to have you in his life, how lucky was he to be the one that made you weak. “Diluc --” You whispered and he swore no one else could ever say his name more perfectly than you did. “W-what’s gotten into you.” Your voice was thick, he made it that way. 

Carefully, he adjusted his grip to keep you steady, eyes flashing to the poor papers that had become crumpled in your grip. He pressed another kiss to your temple and soaked in the way you sighed. “I love you.” He hummed. It was lucky that he was holding you so tightly because as soon as the words left his mouth, your legs gave way only for him to catch you in the arms that he swore would never fail to do it again. 

--

Kaeya

He wandered through the city, eyes shifting to the darker corners that others often overlooked. He was keen on ensuring everything was as it should be, even if he did so with a level of relaxed and indifference that some might consider ‘unbecoming.’ It’s only because they didn’t see the types of things he did in the shadows; it’s easy to do what you need when everything you do is a misdirection. 

At least the citizens loved him, and so did you. 

As he made his way down the alley, his ears caught wind of your voice and within a matter of minutes he pinpointed where you were and, after a few more minutes, he had you in his arms. 

“Kaeya, I’m working.” You fussed, hands pushing against his arms as he held you against his chest. 

“So am I, that doesn’t mean I can’t take a quick break now does it?” He pressed his nose against the small space behind your ear, felt how your body tensed at the action and how embarrassed you were by the intense tapping against his arm. He couldn’t get enough of how easily you became flustered; perhaps it was evil of him to put you on the spot like this but he was overcome by his feelings for you there were times even rational thought flew out of the window. 

“People are looking.” You whispered, head tilting back so he could hear you. 

How easily you opened the door for him every time, “Are you suggesting we go somewhere more private, how flirtatious of you.” 

“Kaeya!” He relented, even though he wanted to snatch you up and carry you off somewhere, he let you go and laughed at the way you fanned your face and how profusely you apologized to the poor, flushed, patrons that happened to be close enough to whiteness this particular display of his affection. 

He loves you - it’s obvious by the intensity at which he shows you his affection, it’s clear in the moments he watches you be at ease - the way you relax against him, the feeling of your fingers trailing up and down his arm - absently as if this movement is the most natural thing - he can’t stop himself from looking for you, at you, and when he does he feels complete

he adores you - there is no doubt in his mind that you are the one he wants to be with, no question, no worry, no fret that he has made a mistake because the way you make him laugh, the way you fill his heart with radiating joy, the way you call out to him eases the deepest fear he’s ever known; with you he’s never alone 

he’s a bit obsessed - he can’t stop himself when it comes to you - during the day his thoughts drift to you. In meetings, in practice, in every step he takes each one leads him to your side - he can’t get away and he doesn’t dare because the thought of you with another makes his heart ache and the growing pit in his stomach even larger -- he’s obsessed with you and he doesn’t think it’ll ever stop 

He sat in the plush armchair, ankle resting over his knee as his eyes followed the words written and his fingers turned the page. It had been so long since he took a real day off. When was the last time he read a book or heard the sound of food being prepared in someone's kitchen. The only reason Kaeya even had a kitchen was because it came with the apartment, so to actually see it be used was rather strange to him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” He asked with a slight slyness in his voice, a playful tone that he was so good at using. 

"Listen, I love you, but please stay over there. Or do you not remember what happened last time?” He recalled the scorched pan and chard food that was so hard to remove he opted to tossing the whole pan out instead. With a gesture of his hands, he surrendered to your comment and went back to his book. 

After a while his eyes were drawn to you and soon the stories in his lap became an afterthought to the images he witnessed from you. It was somehow comforting to watch you move around the kitchen. How careful you were about everything, the furrow of your brow as you measured ingredients, the way you placed your hand on your hip as you watched the food cook. The delicious smell you concocted that somehow fit you so well. 

It was your kindness and determination that pulled him to attention. It was your thoughtfulness and strong will that made him feel worthy to be by your side, but it was so much more that drew him to you. 

 “Alright, I think it’s done.” You nodded, spoon slipping past your lips as you gave it one final taste before preparing the plates. Kaeya was already headed your way when you set them on the table and his sudden proximity caught you off guard. “What do you want to - K-Kae?” His arms wrapped around your neck as he pulled you in for a hug and he sensed your confusion through the soft pats against his lower back. 

His heart pounded, the emotions flowing through his limbs with such intensity he lost himself in them. He desperately hoped you weren’t being crushed by the weight of his feelings for you. In his mind he considered every possible thing that could have brought him to this place, what did he do to deserve you, what actions did he take to get here and if he had to do it again would he make some crucial error only to let you slip through his fingers. He dreaded the thought and those worries came through in the tightness of his embrace. 

“Hey, I love you too, okay.” You whispered, toes stretching to push yourself further against him, arms coiling around him to return the hug. It wasn’t until he felt your lips against his neck that he loosened his grip. Perhaps it was the action combined with the words that brought him to his senses, he wasn’t really sure, but he was certain of one thing. 

Kaeya pulled back just enough so he could glance in your confused eyes, so he could watch them look only at him and when he had his fill, he cupped your cheeks in his hands and kissed you until the suffocating feelings of his love was satisfied. 

--

Thoma 

“Thoma!” You shouted, body crashing into his side as you wrapped your self around him. He kept himself steady but only because he knew what to expect. 

“Hey there.” He chuckled, neck bending to look at you, smile soft and welcoming just as yours was. 

“I just wanted to say ... um ...” He waited even though he had an idea as to what you were going to say. It was adorable how every time you said it the words seemed to get caught in your throat, how the truthfulness of your confession flashed across your face and warmed the cheeks he often found so hard not to touch. “I love you.” You mumbled, a stark contrast to the confidence you just showed him in your intense embrace. 

Without a second thought, he wrapped his arm around your back and though your honesty was something he should be used to by now it always managed to color his cheeks in a shade made for the setting sun. “I love you, too.” He couldn’t stop the grin that grew on his lips at the way you bashfully accepted his words or how you hid your face in his chest for just a moment until you pressed a chaste kiss to his clothes and dashed off to continue whatever you were doing moments before. 

He had learned early on that even though you were shy and rather embarrassed about sharing your feelings with him, you also became overwhelmed by them at the same time. Like the rising tides of the sea, you’d let them take control only to rush away just as quickly. He found it endearing and also started to notice there were moments when he too couldn’t hold himself back from showing you just how much he cared for you. 

He loves you - it was apparent by the patience he offered you - successes or failures were all the same and he encouraged you through every little one. It was obvious by the way he vowed to protect you, kept you close and watched out for you when things turned serious; he knew you were able to handle things on your own but he couldn’t imagine the thought of you getting hurt -- be a large injury or a splinter, he will take care of it all 

he adores you - there’s no way he couldn’t when everything you did made him weak in the knees. How could one person be so adorable - it wasn’t possible but you found a way every day - and each time he thought he knew all of you there was something new for him to discover and another incredible thing to fall in love with 

he’s a bit obsessed - he can’t help himself. How is he supposed to pass by and not want to rest his hand on your back, take your hand in his and stay by your side. Thoma is forever capable, he’s forever reliable but the moment you came into his life he felt he could never be good enough to earn a love as powerful as yours - how could he measure up to that? 

He became distracted for a single moment and lost you in the crowd. His heart began to pound, mind worry that something might have happened. Even if the vision hunt decree had been removed, there were still those who harbored ill will toward those a part of the rebellion and would do whatever they needed to seek revenge or compensation. 

Luckily, he found you within a few minutes and felt a wave of relief wash over him. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice holding remnants of his anxieties even though he tried to shake them free. 

“Oh, I’m making a wish.” You explained, fingers working to tie the red string around one of the remaining spots on the overly crowded stands by the sakura tree. You were doing your best but with your height and the slippery string, you were having difficulties. 

“Let me help.” His fingers grazed your own and you willingly let him take the wooden token in his hands. “Here?” He asked, arms extended toward the spot you were trying to reach. 

“Mmhm.” 

After a few moments, he managed to secure the plaque in place, the sound of it hitting several others created a lovely almost refreshing noise. “What did you wish for anyway.” He asked curiously, fingers twisting the wood until he could see your handwriting. 

“Oh, you don’t --!” 

“May Thoma be as safe as he makes me.” The words filled the pavilion, they settled in his mind and in his heart so strongly that when he looked at you only to find your hands covering your face did he find himself unable to control his hearts desire. 

“Y/N.” He whispered, finger coaxing your palm away from what he so desperately wanted to see. Out of all the wishes you could have made, out of all the things you wanted in this life you choose him. “You wanted to protect me?” 

Nodding, you let your hands fall just enough so he could see your eyes and the honesty you held in them. “You always protect me ... so I thought -- well -- you know.” 

Thoma let out an emotional sigh, his head rested against yours and although he normally wouldn’t be so blatant in his affection he couldn’t stop himself. So, with a gentle pull, he used the barrier of a thousand hopeful wishes to set his in motion - ‘may y/n love me in this life and every other until the end of time’ - and under the shade of the flowering sakura tree he sealed his hopes with a kiss. 

tag list (broken tags) 

@star-gods​ @mercurysmaiden​ @dourpeep @clemmywrites @handswritteeen @musekala  @mooshymello  @glazelilyy @twokissesforamelia @goat-mama-breezie @smol-knife @aoirohi @nitorious-ghost @mguerra11 @ryekoo @nonniechan @tempehlust @zenith-impact @plumpkie @jaggedsi @salty-salty @onlyhereforinteractivestories @shy-specter @liebestraumss @jaemjenjam @softlybeloved @anatthesavage @mkazuyuh @excitedlysuffering @yujiia @cytomegalia @fvushiguros @nua-fromliyue @yoshikuno  @anonymousficreader @cyphermagic @noctua-koi​ @akira-kiryu @linarizaki @lenioxoxo @justfandomlover @duskdawn052 @emeixho @yanfei-main771 @musical-gravity @thelightofmylife @1-800-beidou @makinouri @my-dear-wendy @alatuszc @dearest-ei @x-madeline-x​ @jahnvi-d @shiinogi​ @blushingskywalker @cherryflushz @lucy-roo @sufzku @uchihaeirin @etherealdiluc @kazuhasupremacyy @scaracock @starserene @bloodreaper08 @disoriented-fish @straymoon96 @kartoffelgrace @sunny-star021 @3slicedbananas  @x-zho @kaeyamonsoon            

[misticloyal]

Shadowpeach HC’s

These were part of a bigger post but then I noticed how skewed they were to include Macaque and Wu Kong lmao

I have also developed a crippling addiction to angst of these two soo...,,, (These ones are fucked: CW for toaster bath mentions + SH) 

Jesus Christ I didn’t think LMK monks could make me get on the same angst level as actual Tommy Exile shit from DSMP lore lmao

.

- Monkey King and Macaque play each other in Xian Qi ALL THE TIME and they’re both extremely good since they both had experiences leading actual war troops.

Occasionally they’ll get caught up in a really intense game and someone would enter the room just to feel the tension of two superpowers going at it. MK likes to watch them though and they teach him how to play it eventually

- Macaque is a theatre kid and used to put on plays for Monkey King’s generals when they all lived on Flower Fruit Mountain

Continuation: People assume that Macaque is the only theatre kid, but they seem to forget that Su Kong also exists in that category. After he got ahold of what was going on he’d demand to be able to participate and so they’d act out and voice plays for ‘show nights’ as the monkeys called them.

When they eventually meet again in the airship they host a ‘show’ called “Shows first take”. This is when MK or Mei get an episode of a show and let Macaque and Wu Kong voice over all the lines in one take- they saw Snapcube’s dubs and said “hey we can do that 🤨” and then they did.

- Monkey King likes Peach chips, and Macaque likes Plantain chips

- As kids Wu Kong and Macaque both loves stealing juice boxes from local grocery stores

Not only that but the concept of juice just being sold was revolutionary to them.

“You’re telling me I don’t have to squeeze oranges until my hands are orange?!”

“No- Wu Kong you don’t understand, they made orange juice without pulp”

“WHAT THE FUCK-”

- Both Wu Kong and Macaque have never worn sneakers a DAY in their lives so the only thing they’ll wear that's close to shoes is sandals. (No socks either they hate those)

- Macaque can purr and Sun Wu Kong cannot

- I mentioned in one of my posts about Shadowpeach constantly dreaming about them apologizing to each other and becoming friends and now I raise you this: 

When they actually did apologize and agree to be civil for the sake of LBD fucking shit up, neither of them cried and they didn’t even hug or anything which is weird because they DID have a super emotional talk about how they need to get their shit together and everything. 

However, they both started bawling the following night when they decided to watch a movie about space together. They’re emotionally constipated and for some reason hearing some guy talk about black holes and the vastness of the universe really did it for them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

After that they always kept an eye on one another so they don’t accidentally disappear from the other’s view for too long

- Monkey King’s stupid automated cardboard cut-outs have a sensor installed to sense if macaque is near it, and if he is the speaker will say 

“Everyone thinks my favorite fruit is peaches, but my second favorite is mangoes :D”

- Macaque used to deal with Wu Kong’s bullshit for a long time, so one day close to when he joined the “Find the Samadhi Fire Club” Monkey King is like- OFF THE WALLS BATSHIT CRAZY (he didn’t take his meds *Wheeze*) and the gang has absolutely no fucking idea how to control him.

Macaque walks into the room, calls in Wu Kong to spar w/ him and they watch all of the *hyper-ness* melt away in the easy push and pull they have when they practice. They never let Macaque be out of the house when Monkey King goes hyper mode now.

- Macaque does the sweetest things for Wu Kong without saying it out-loud.

He leaves reminders when he knows the other’ll forget to do something.

Makes sure to leave Wu Kong the peaches from the fruit bowl

He’ll talk to MK and propose a day off from training when he knows both Wu Kong and his successor need a break

He indulges Wu Kong’s word vomit about some random shit because he knows it’s been so long since he trusted anyone long enough to let loose around them

When MK’s training with Monkey King, he prepares a selection of small first aid in case one of them gets hurt

He leaves him flowers made of shadows so they don’t wilt

-

.

Angst- One Last CW ok nice awesome;; anyway

- Macaque learned how to smoke his problems away and since he’s immortal he just has to recycle his lungs every so often because hundreds of years of smoking really does a number on ya o77

He listens to Minecraft Music* he pirated because he is a menace to society and smokes a whole fucking pack above the cloud line on really bad days 

*For anyone who cares, Macaque’s favorite song is Excuse and that is not up for debate

Also once YouTube auto played this song next and Mr emo monkey had a little itty bitty breakdown- mama was crying WATERFALLS

- Macaque never can listen to music above 15% if he uses headphones because his eardrums would start to rupture

HOWEVER if something really fucking bad happened he’d bump it up to 20%for ✨escapism✨ resolving that he’ll just fix his bleeding ears later

- One time MK made a joke that Macaque would totally make and it distracted Monkey King so bad that MK actually landed a hit on him that was pretty respectable

- Wu Kong holds himself at night to try and pretend he’s not alone

- They just.,,, they hurt inside. Both of them. A lot.

- Sandy can see people’s aura and the first time he saw Macaque he was rooted to the spot because the only other person he’s seen carry this much hurt  is Wu Kong himself

- Wu Kong curls up in a ball in an effort to hide from all the things he knows he fucked up (Him and Mac’s relationship, being a mentor to MK, getting attached to Tripitaka and the rest of the JTTW crew, lying abt certain things abt the Samadhi fire, etc.)

- OHHH FUCK THIS ONE’S SO SAD- I- I CAN’T- Wu Kong tries to replicate the feeling of the circlet in anyway he can whenever he screws something up, it started with large things like neglecting MK and ignoring Mei trying to tell him to man up for his mistakes and then it built up to anything minor in the slightest

God I fucking hate that stupid circlet it’s literally so fucking dumb I hate it the only thing that mounts up to this type of loathing is LBD’s bullshitery in cannon jfccccc

Like- Holy shit Wu Kong’s in the kitchen, drops a bowl by accident and freezes

HHHHHHHhhH- and then he starts justifying to himself why it was okay that he did that- it was an accident- accidents happen- but what if the bowl was expensive- it’s fine he can fix it- everything fine- 100% fine he’ll take care of it

And the whole time there’s not a single person in the kitchen so he’s just sitting in the middle of an empty kitchen mumbling to himself and clutching his head like the circlet is there

😀

- Macaque has a mural of the JTTW gang and one can see over the years how his feelings went from denial to anger to depression because at first the only noticeable marks were Tripitaka’s face being chiseled right out of the wall. 

Then, scratches appeared all over the mural including Zhu Ba Jie, Sha Wu Jing, and Sun Wu Kong and finally; A huge red X was hastily drawn over the Monkey King, then scribbled over, then drawn again...Macaque’s still conflicted about it and sometimes just sits there with a wet sponge in his paw debating whether or not the X deserves to be there

- Contrary to popular belief Macaque actually HATES caffeine. Why? Caffeine is a stimulant. Alcohol is a depressant. One of them won’t cause him to gain hope about fixing things between him and Wu Kong. 

One of them won’t make him go to Flower Fruit Mountain and embarrass himself in front of Wu Kong’s subjects because the golden monkey wasn’t even THERE he was gone on some sort of errand and all of his pathetic (they weren’t really, Macaque loved them) subjects watched him cry to himself.

- Once Macaque and Wu Kong had their falling out, Macaque refused to call Wu Kong anything but 大圣 because that's all he was to him now. Some random deity with too much power. Some random deity that was stupid, and beautiful, but stubborn and just not for Macaque. 

(Wu Kong’s reaction to this was anger- he was so angry that Macaque had decided for him when his name started to mean nothing. But obviously he didn’t do anything because he was a pussy; and Macaque didn’t stick to the name-boycott for long because as soon as MK is added into the mix the name Wu Kong comes back instantly)

[siopaoface]

THE FOOL: BAKUGOU KATSUKI DEVELOPS A CRUSH

content: fem!reader, non-quirk au. fluff. they're high school students. reader is from humanities strand. bakugou is in-denial

Reader was tasked to perform a speech in a random class section. Katsuki crushes on reader first and was emotionally constipated about it. 

The first time Bakugou Katsuki saw you made him think that you're a big flirt. You know how to get boys eating at the palm of your hands, make them sit or beg and he definitely saw you giving Izuku a smile that he can call as "ethereal" as you ask him for a favor of borrowing his Math notebook. Now, don't get him wrong. He doesn't know your name or which strand were you from. He just knows he doesn't like you, at all.

The second time Bakugou Katsuki saw you was when you were with your friends at the canteen horsing around. Hugging an extra from the back as they feed you some yoghurt to which he mentally takes note of. Your hair was pulled back by a headband which exposed your forehead, making you look younger and full of life.

"You know her? You're staring too hard at her! She's from the humanities! She's a great speaker! I hope she performs in our class." Denki elbowed Bakugou as he scowled. What's so great about her? She looks like another extra. As if you sensed them talking about you, your head immediately looked at them and you waved in greeting. Another smile plastered on your lips.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The first time you saw Bakugou Katsuki, you didn't liked him. The way his voice would startle you as he called to his friends. It's like second nature for you to flinch away from loud things and people. The reason was that being highly-sensitive, you get tired and annoyed with your surroundings. So, when you hear his voice, you shrink away. You know Bakugou Katsuki, blonde-haired and foul tempered but, intelligent and competitive. You know he's from the Science department and you don't like him.

The second time you saw him was during the Mythology Quizbee. Your group was up against his, and you almost cried when you ran out of ink. Bakugou sneered at you and heavens forbid, you almost slammed his head with your small whiteboard. But the unexpected part was that he threw you a marker, told you to get your shit together and fight him fairly.

"You know him? He's bad news." Was all your friend murmured as she caught you staring at Bakugou.

"Just curious."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"There are times when I would wake up in the middle of the night, after my first heartbreak, wondering and crying, where did I go wrong? I would often stop at my tracks as tears would form in my eyes and this knot in my throat gets tighter." Bakugou seemed entranced as you did your speech in front of his class. Your eyes weren't teary but, he sensed the sadness and longing in it. "My friends would say that I deserve better. That I needed someone who can make me happier and won't treat me like a toy. Pick me up when you need me and drop me when you don't." He clenched his fist underneath the desk, the quiver on your voice shocked his core.

He doesn't know you so, why does he feel protective?

"Falling in love, now that was a fun trick. Love makes you weak. It makes you patient, it makes you breathe for the sole purpose of the other person. And maybe, I was wrong in the way of loving him but, when I love,” You took a deep breath and let your eyes roam, settling on the blonde-haired boy who was staring at you with his red eyes. “I love unconditionally. You’re the only one in my eyes and I will never hurt you.” You slowly grinned before giving him a full-blown smile and Bakugou felt his heart clench in a painful manner.

What was that?!

Bakugou suddenly felt his senses in-tuned with the way you move in front of his class. The sound of the ceiling fan and aircondition was way too loud, the sun-rays seemed too kiss your skin perfectly and he was hyper-aware of your existense.

No.

No.

No. No. No. No. He is not developing a crush on you. Blood rushed to his cheeks when you caught his eyes, giving him another small smile. You were just there.

The speech was finished and you were bowing, giving his classmates a rating card that will determine your grade and everyone was complimenting you. He suddenly felt a bit idiotic for thinking that you only smiled at him. You were the star and he's an extra in the audience.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Bakugou Katsuki avoided you like the plague well, you didn't feel his avoidance because you were too busy with your studies, school organization works and hobbies to see him fumbling around you. He avoided you as if his life depended on it but, he can't help but listen to your laugh when your friend group would brush past his group.

I do not have a crush on her. I can't have a crush on her.

"Bakubro, are you okay? You look sweltering? Do you wanna go to the nurse's office?" Kirishima asked his friend and he nodded, feeling weak in the knees as you went on lightly with your steps. You reminded him of a pixie, fleeting from one flower to another. Plucking hearts of people without even realizing it.

You entered the nurse's office because you weren't feeling well from the heat. The sound of someone breathing was a good indication that someone else was with you because, you're scared of being alone in a room.

"Hi! What can I do for you?" You smiled at the nurse and told her that you're a bit dizzy from the heat of the afternoon sun.

"Just rest near that boy and I'll fetch some water. No hanky panky tho!" She giggled and hopped on her way out. You didn't mind her and pulled out a romance novel from your pocket.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Really? A romance novel?" You almost shrieked when you heard a sleepy voice from the patient near your bed. His blonde hair was a bit of a mess but, the smell of cookies and caramel coming off of him made you comfortable.

It was Bakugou Katsuki.

"Of all things I could dream about, it's her. It's her. Reading a goddamned romance novel in the clinic. Ain't it a bit cliché?" He snapped his fingers in front of you and sneered. "I don't have a crush on you, got it? So get out of my dreams and ignore me. You're a playgirl. A klutz. You're clumsy. Smart. You beat me in some competitions. So, I can't have a crush on you."

You were wondering if you're the one who's dreaming because, Bakugou Katsuki is confessing to you?

"I can't have a crush on you because, you're so out of my league." He finished his ramblings, lied back down, turned his back on you and slept again. It baffled you. Adding more questions than statement in your mind.

Does he like me or hate me?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Bakugou Katsuki woke up feeling refreshed and cool. He noticed someone else taking a nap on the clinic bed near his and only saw the Romance book clutched in their fists. Your back turned away from him and a blanket covering your form.

"Oh, Katsuki! Just sign your signature here and you can go back to your classroom." The school nurse urged him with a smile on her lips and he scowled. The blonde boy pulled his own pen from his pocket and scanned the paper.

I think I had a dream where I said some things to her.

He shrugged it off and signed his name on the form when he saw yours next to his. He stormed back in the rest area and gingerly lifted the blanket.

You were sleeping in a fetal position.

He was truly and utterly fucked.

[scarlet-streak-fanfics]

Touch Starved Vanitas Headcanon

This headcanon has two facets, one for Vanoe and the other for Vanijeanne, which is the one we’ll be starting with.

Generally, I headcanon that Vanitas forced the “You can only feed from me” dynamic on Jeanne to mimic the intimacy he saw between Noe and Dominique as another part of the visual parallels I see in the show (please ask me about that, I’d like to talk about it). Vanitas has stated that other vampires had drunk from him before, but Jeanne’s was the first one feeding that was a pleasurable experience for him. We know that physical attraction/compatibility plays a part, but I also noticed that Jeanne mostly pins him down while feeding. Even though the venom supposedly calms prey, that kind of deep pressure contact also relaxes the nervous system and can overall be very calming. So, I also headcanon that he decided the only way to guarantee that physical contact and pleasure was to force it using that deal. Now on to Vanoe

So we canonically know the Vanitas most likely has fallen victim to Noe’s need for sleep-hugging on more than one occasion. However, if you look at their room, you’ll notice that there are plenty of ways for him to get out the window without risking sleep-hugging.

They could switch beds, he could go out the bathroom window, etc. So, this is another situation where he thinks the only way to get the physical contact he’s craving is trickery/he makes it so he can easily deny the desire for physical contact and blame it on the other party. 

In conclusion, I headcanon that Vanitas just needs regular physical contact to make up for the touch starvation, but he’s emotionally constipated and could never ask that of anyone.

[copperbadge]

“Fanfic of your own content”? Nothing wrong with a judicious application of the Infinite Recursion Principle. 😁 (Tolkien did it.) I, for one, am DELIGHTED💕there will be more shenanigans from your magical kingdom with its weapons-grade local drinks. Can’t wait!

The best part about writing fanfic of something I invented is that I still get to publish and sell it if I want to :D I do feel like this must have been rather how Tolkien felt, except he was probably far less sheepish about it. Also there's arguable less kissing in Tolkien's entire collected canon than in this book alone, but that's a genre thing.

This morning I kept wondering why the google doc for Infinite Jes was crashing once every few hours, which normally it only does if the wordcount is over about 30K. Turns out it was 42K. So, I thought April was going to be “Read down your unread books pile” month but I guess instead it’s “write a new book” month. 

I’m just really invested in this emotionally constipated senior citizen and the GenX nerd nonbicon who has arrived to throw his life into chaos. I am definitely writing fanfic in order to avoid dealing with real life feelings but only about four of you know where I live and none of you are willing to stop me. Michaelis is going to get the hugs he needs or so help me. 

(Anyone above Older Millennial age want to feel old? Jes is firmly Generation X and also 45 years old with a teenage son.)

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

[wangxianficrecs]

best things in life by belovedmuerto

best things in life

by belovedmuerto

T, 37k, wangxian, 6 works, series in progress

Summary (Part 1): There is a deep inhale, and Lan Wangji knows immediately who is on the other end of the line. His breath catches in his throat and, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jingyi jump up and leave the room at a dead run. Sizhui is rooted to his spot, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes.

My comments: Sweet story with reconciliation at its core that focuses on what happens with and around wwx after being terribly injured in a car accident. The thing is, his emergency contact is still Jiang Cheng, although the two have been estranged for many years and wwx is convinced that jc hates him. This is... patently not the case, as lwj, jc and the juniors sit awkwardly in the waiting room to hear the result of the surgeries, or later, when jc sits in the room (silent and glowering, but still) or hosts the juniors at lotus during the nights while lwj stays with his husband.

Three stories in the series so far (but feels sufficiently finished, so no worries). ** NOW WITH 6 WORKS **

modern au, modern cultivators, car accidents, hurt wei wuxian, injured wei wuxian, hurt/comfort, established relationship, adorable juniors, brotherly feels, jiang brothers, adorable juniors and their friendship, insecure wei wuxian, self-esteem issues, oblivious wei wuxian, emotionally constipated jiang cheng, doting lan wangji, protective lan wangji, sickfic, self-worth issues, fluff, caretaking, emotional hurt/comfort, jiang cheng needs a hug, @belovedmuerto

(You may wish to REBLOG as a signal boost for this author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[your-stoat-stands-unopposed]

I'm not sure how many asks you get daily, but I'm hanging on edge of every imagine and headcanon and thoughts you have posted. I want to hear everything you have!! Especially about P03. Maybe some angsty comfort headcanons? Or the Blogger's Choice would be just as amazing too!

Oh!!! This is really, really sweet... honestly, knowing people like what I do just makes me want to do more 🥺 So thank you, dear! I hope you'll enjoy these headcanons 💕

Comfort with P03

Comforting P03

After his time as a stoat, he's actually... very wary, very on-edge, and very distrustful. It takes him a long time to let people close, to share his actual feelings; he doesn't want anyone to see him vulnerable ever, ever again.

But after experiencing pain and physical death over and over again... there's definitely been some damage done. If anyone's permitted to get close enough, they'll see it as P03 lets his guard down a bit.

If he trusts a person enough, he'll be more vocal about his experiences: how he suffered, how his fellow Scrybes took such pleasure in verbally abusing him, how he's looked down upon as just a 'synthetic freak.' It's clear by the tone in his voice: it doesn't just make him angry, he's hurting. (And honestly... having someone to listen to him is very comforting in itself.)

The best thing you can do to comfort him is just tell him that he didn't deserve what happened to him. Validate his feelings; tell him that what happened was wrong and you hate the fact it happened at all.

He might not be able to feel physical sensation anymore, but... he wouldn't hate it if you held him close, and let him feel your heartbeat against the side of his monitor. It's rhythmic, and it's calming.

Really, he may not show it, but... this bot needs some kind words, the occasional hug, and some support. Just being reminded that he isn't alone and that at least one person actually believes in him can make a huge difference.

P03 Comforting You

Look: feelings are not P03's strong suit. And it's not because he's a robot, it's just because he's... not that type. But when it comes to someone whose company he almost enjoys... well, he wants to at least try.

At first, he tries to keep your mind off your worries with his brilliant cardplay, maybe even adding a few extra NPCs to the campaign just to make you smile.

If and when that doesn't fix the issue, though... he'll just ask. P03 isn't the most tactful in the world, and he wants to know; and if you want to tell him, he'll listen.

If you have any songs you really like, he'll find a MIDI online and play it through his monitor for you; or if there's a story you really like, he'll find a PDF of it and read to you until you fall asleep...

Maybe he needs some pointers in the right direction since he's more than a little emotionally constipated himself, but... he does want to make you feel better. (And in itself, that's a kinda comforting thought, too.)

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Alright, hi! :D

Sadly my exam didn't go well but it's the first (and hopefully last) that didn't go well so it's fine! Got down with something though which is why I only read half of part 2 on Thursday — which still improved my mood SO MUCH so really, I massively appreciate that you posted it that day, it's amazing! — and the latter half on Friday.

Now, being bed bound and just tired the entire day, I didn't write a comment yesterday but I knew I had to because all your stories actually deserve all the love and attention. And the good!Uther AU definitely is up there with the best. I have a thing for crack taken (somewhat) seriously and that was just mwah *chef's kiss*

I love the partnership of Morgana and Uther, how Uther is the one to come up with the plan and bring the team together but then still cringes at anything connected to physical attraction while making it a major part of their scheme. I love how quickly Merlin and Arthur just got it as soon as Uther, Morgana and Leon revealed themselves and Oh, How I Love Leon in this.

Leon is my absolute favorite in this. He's the counterbalance to Uther and Morgana to make this story feel realistic for how ridiculous it is. Without him, I don't think the story would have worked how it's now. He's the pinch of salt in a cake to make the flavor stand out while being opposite to the sweetness.

And he's just so deliciously uncomfortable with everything to the point I want to hug him but also laugh at him because the situation he found himself in entirely against his will is just so perfectly in line with the ridiculousness that is Camelot and his life (re: the poetry scene in particular).

Just... perfection

Anyway, staying on topic of Leon, I would like to give my vote for number 6 on the list “Another Warlock part 2", because I just love anyone developing magic and rightfully freaking out about it and Leon is just my favorite in your stories (in canon it's Gwaine and Merlin but in your writing it is most definitely Leon). I really wanna see how that plays out! But obviously no rush, you got other things to do and write and luckily my exams are over for now so I don't need any motivation (thanks again for that, I appreciate you SO MUCH for it)

I hope you have an amazing weekend and happy Easter! (if you're celebrating it)

-Jay 💖

(dw, calling me "Jansel" isn't wrong, it just feels strangely... formal? As if it's my last name although it's not)

(Referencing Uther Ships It, Part 1, Part 2)

Ah don't worry Jay! I'm really sick atm as well, so holing up in bed with my laptop is a nice way to pass time😅

I'm glad you liked it!! Crack is ok I suppose, but I generally prefer other stuff (angst with a happy ending/hurt+comfort, and pure fluff), so I'm glad my attempt at crack is being enjoyed :D

Also! If you like crack taken semi seriously, then hopefully #14 from This List will be up your street!! I've just finished editing it, and it'll be posted on 11/04/22!!

Morgana and Uther being chaotic together is a favourite underrated trope of mine!! Uther being fully aware of how manipulative and cunning Morgana is, and just letting her get away with it because he thinks it's amusing. And yeah! This is his kid they're talking about!! He's trying to get his emotionally constipated son dicked down!! That's not a fun thing to think about!! No matter how necessary it is!!

Leon is the only normal guy in Camelot and shit just... keeps happening. I think he's coping remarkably well, considering.

I also love Leon! I love writing him, love thinking about him, love looking at the gif of him kissing a horse that I have saved on my phone!

I normally do celebrate Easter (in an Atheist kinda way. I give in to capitalism and propaganda and buy chocolate, that's about it), but it's my partner's birthday Easter Weekend, so we're celebrating that instead!!

And I get you lol, it'd be like if someone called me BitsAndBobsOfWriting every time, I just refer to the blog as "Bits" in my head😅

Hope any future exams go well Jay!!

If anyone needs a pick me up/good motivation on a certain day (exams/interviews/first dates/family reunions/medical stuff, etc), let me know, and I'll see what I can get lined up!! Obviously I'll need a couple days notice, but I've got so many headcanon ideas I need to catch up on, I'm sure there's stuff I can churn out :D

~

ALSO!!! Like I said, #14 will be posted on the 11th, and I'm thinking of doing #39 next! Lemme know what y'all think!

[arcadejohn127-9]

ALSO- I have a request! Brothers (+royals if you want) reacting to an MC who is extremely affectionate once they like someones- gives hugs, praises often, gives gifts, does their best to help when they can- but if any of this affection is returned they cry. Hard. Because they're emotionally constipated and any affection or love they receive overwhelms them- this also embarrasses them extremely-

Damn.... didn't think I'd feel called out by a prompt request XD it seems my time has come!

I'm guessing royals are Diavolo and barbatos so I added them but if you ever request again and someone you wanted wasn't here, feel free to comment and I'll make sure to add them

Brothers + Diavolo & barbatos with an overly affection MC with issues

Lucifer:

He grew use to your affection ways

The words of praise when you notice he finished a work load

Or when you'd pat his head when he was tired

At first he wondered why you would handle or touch him likes he's a fragile doll but he grew to love how gentle you were

Subconsciously he'd lean his head down whenever he completed a task expecting a head pat

Even if you weren't there but if he's caught he'll just pretend he was tired

Lucifer wasn't always the most affectionate, especially as he rarely shows how much he genuinely loves the people around them

He decided to return the gesture, you recently got a high grade in a class you were struggling in

He patted your head, giving it a light ruffle

"You did good, you're improving alot - it's very promising."

Didn't expect you to start crying, aggressively shoving away your tears

"what's wrong? Did something-"

"I just- this is embarassing- you patted my head and people don't really do that for me and I just-"

"Ah, I see, then I shall do it more often."

"even in public?"

He was never a public man, wanting to get his softer side hidden in the protection of his soul and the walls surrounding his room

But here you were, crying because he simply caressed your cheek

He wants you to be happy and feel as loved as he does

So he'll happily push his walls down for you

"if it means this much to you, then yes but let's keep it appropriate."

Mammon:

"How's my handsome super model?! Did it go well? Aww you look tired, let's get you rested, okay?"

He's so in love

No one has ever made him feel this mooshy and love sick and he's ANCIENT

He's use to his brothers always insulting him - he likes a good tease and making a rude remark about each other but they tend to push it

They hit his Insecurities and think he can handle it because they're demons

But he wasn't always

Then you came along, giving him head pats and words of praise

Always standing up for him

He fell for you so quickly and so hard

He basically turns into a puppy when he's with you

When you left with Satan to get groceries he had to be forced to not go with you, waiting at the stairs for you to come back

As soon as Satan left with even your bags included, he came bolting for you

Leaping into your arms and squeezed you tight, insisting he didn't miss you but just got bored

The way he's nuzzling your cheek says otherwise

When you began crying he immediately panicked

"Did Satan do something to ya?! I swear I'll beat-"

"I'm just not use to others being as affectionate as I am back to me - it's okay."

"Huh?! Well I guess the greatest demon of all time has to be that person, that's me! Don't forget it, okay?! I'm going to smother you."

Mammon is already a touchy person but knows to be respectful, since that day his hands are always on you

Either holding your hand, touching your shoulder, petting your hair or just Hugging you

Levithan:

Levithan isn't one to give or receive when it comes to affection

He tends to get overwhelmed by just a head pat and gets embarassed if his fingers accidentally brush against yours

You're an overly affectionate person

He's a simple man who needs self worth

It's definitely a good duo

You've learned to be more vocal about your praises and affections, still testing the waters with physical touch

But from time to time he'll ask to get a head pat if he's really proud of himself

Has made you call him your little pog champ

"Levi are you- oh sorry you're streaming- I'll just leave these here."

He was confused until he saw the section dish filled with different snacks with a energy drink in the middle

He almost teared up

"No! Stay with me, they'll like you!"

In an act of no thoughts and boldness, he pulled you into his lap

You fell awkwardly and was half straddling half on his side

As soon as you got comfortable you hide your face In his neck forcing back tears

Not wanting to cry on stream

"You're so sweet, levi, I'm sure your followers can agree."

He literally short circuited

Hiding his face in your shoulder as he got flustered

"You're sweeter than me, you're always being nice to me - I really lo- like you for that."

Anyone who watched that stream now ships you - the non believers didn't believe all the stories he told about you but now they had physical proof

That stream was re-upload so many times with comps filled with him gushing about you

Levithan is determined to make sure you never see them but it's too late and you cried with joy in your room

Next time you saw him you kissed his cheek and he immediately melted

Did kiss your cheek back though but did it so quick and harsh that you stumbled backwards

Satan:

Someone being gentle to him????

Someone who doesn't keep away from his because of his sin????

Who??? What??!!

You're the who! he was SHOCKED you were so happy to get close to him and just treat him so kindly

He made a theory on the Devildom detectives group that you're actually an angel but it backfired by demons just telling him he's got feelings for you

He does but he didn't expect to get called out on a whole forum

"You're really smart, thanks for always helping me with my studies - I've found It alot easier to study and remember all my notes now, you're a good teacher!"

He's so smitten with you

You could be saying the most disgusting or insulting thing and he'd still smile and nod

He needed help getting food for this secret but really not so secret pet cat and you gladly accepted to help him

When you two were just spending time together in his room and when suddenly picked up his cat

You didn't think too much of it but grinned when he booped the cats nose onto yours

"thank you for being so kind to me- it means alot."

the cat was like you; overly affectionate so it didn't surprise you when it started gently pawing at your face and giving you little kisses

"I feel embarrassed by admitting this so I'm letting Chaos show how I feel."

He avoided looking at you

It would be for the best as you started crying, taking the cat from his hold and kissing it's head repeatedly

"and that's how I feel about you trying to move through your discomfort and be open with me."

His cheeks are BURNING

Holds your hand throughout the rest of the hang out

Asmodeus:

You're being gentle and affection despite Everyone perceiving him as a sex hungry annoyance?

You're immediately his favourite - sorry Solomon

You always understood his protectiveness over his appearance

Fixing his hair and pushing back stands if you ever pet it

You didn't need to but you always told him you washed your hands before touching his face

You always did these simple things to make him feel at ease

But he loved your touch

No matter any comment he makes; he adores you and just being able to have these tender moments with you

He knew you were special to him when you walked in on him

Barely awake, hair messy, no makeup or moisturizer - he didn't look even the slightest bit appealing

And just smiled, looking at him no differently even when his voice came out tired and croaky

"You're really pretty even when you just wake up, it's so unfair - what's your secret?"

"because it's me, darling! I always look good~"

Internally, he was freaking out about how you liked him at what he deemed - his most unattractive state

So it only made sense he became more touchy and grew closer to you

"are you sure I look good in this? I know you're very up to date with fashion."

"You look stunning, I haven't seen a bad look on you yet, perhaps your charm is just as high as mine."

He was holding your hips, smiling as you both looked in the mirror

He wrapped his arms around you, leaning on your shoulder

"I think you look good all the time, you're just amazing like that."

You tried to hide your tears but he could see them, immediately asking you what's wrong

"Nothing- I just- that means alot coming from you and you're always being so affection towards me....its really nice."

He just hugs you tighter, smiling

"I just treat you how you treat me, you're a real angel."

Beezlebub:

This guy is worried about so many things

He's scared of hurting you

He's worried if he gets carried away with touching you he'll make you uncomfortable and his gluttony will act up; wanting more of your tender touch until he feels full

The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable or you feel forced to be affectionate to him because he could throw a fit

He's always ashamed of his hunger tantrums

But when he does do affection it's either carrying you or holding your hand

But was so happy whenever you cuddled hi against him or when you gave him praise

He could spend the whole day with you running your fingers through his hair, telling him he's a good demon and that he means something to you

"Can you finish this for me? I'm not feeling that hungry right now."

You offered your bowl to Beel, he happily took it

As you two spent time with each other he noticed you eyeing some of the more sweeter things set out on the table

He gently pushed it towards you

"Eat if you want it, I'll share."

You waved your hand, not wanting to take food from him

"I'm just snack-ish, I can't eat a meal right now."

You knew how hungry he could get and didn't want to leave him peckish

You knew that small feeling could easily turn into something bigger

But he just nudged it closer to you

"You eat what you want, I'll have what you don't finish."

You finally agreed, knowing he was insisting on you to eat with him

He patted your head, smiling as he watched you eat

"are you sure you won't still feel hungry?"

"you make me feel full, it soothes another type of hunger in me, it's nice."

He grabbed your hand, nuzzling his cheek against it, he couldn't stop smiling as you just looked at him in surprise

You finally grinned, tearing up and shook your head, you leaned against him and continued eating

Gripping his hand tighter as you pushed back your tears

Belphegor:

He was spoilt

Beel was always looking after him, helping him get ready for school and drying his hair, carrying him around when he was too tired to walk

And you were only fueling his spoilt nature

You always showered him in affection

Petting his hair whilst he laid his head on your lap, combed his tail, told him he looked cute

"My precious little belphie, are you feeling okay? I noticed you were struggling to sleep today at lunch."

Whilst he believed he looked intimidating with his heavy bags and sleepy grin

You found him adorable, treating him like a sweet innocent boy on those special nights of just you two cuddling

It's been a long time since he's felt innocent

You were always checking in on him

Making him feel special and cared for

He was a soft mess in your hands

"Hold me more, your hands feel so nice~"

He placed his hands on yours, making you gently squish his cheeks

"Don't you wanna cuddle?"

He raised a brow, a smug smile growing on his face

"it seems you want to."

"we don't have to-"

"If you wanna be held just ask, I'm more than happy to hold you."

He wrapped his arms around you, shifting his position and buried his face into your chest, humming as your hands ran through his hair

He gave you a small squeeze

"It feels good to be the one hugging you, you're always so comfy~"

He began murmuring how much he loves this time with you, drifting to sleep as he praised you, letting himself mindlessly go on about how wonderful and sweet you are until he started to snore

You let your tears fall

Holding him closer as you softly thanked him for his words

He just hugged you tighter in his sleep, his smile growing

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

This man is TOUCH STARVED

the fact you're unafraid to be with him and around him is already amazing but you freely hold his hand and pat his head

He thinks he's knocked his head and been taken to the celestial realm

People are intimidated by his title as prince and having you so care free in his company is new for him

So of course he enjoys how affectionate you are!

He embraces all your touches and praise!

He's even had you sitting on his lap during meetings, letting you hug him after a tiring day of studying

"You did great today, I really felt your passion for this new project, I think the students will really enjoy it!"

He gets so happy everytime you even look his way

Your smile alone fuels him for the whole day

"Meet me in the castle today, there's something I need you to do for me."

You agreed, not thinking much of it; most likely a new update on the school fair

What you didn't expect was to be greeted by shopping bags and gift boxes and even a human sized teddy bear with demon horns, you tried to ignore them as Diavolo came jogging down the steps

"What did you need me for?"

"I want you to see what you like, I bought as much as I could before Barbatos stopped me, I hope they're up to your liking."

You were speechless

You felt as if you touched the gifts you wouldn't be able to hold back; you were excited to see what he got but you didn't want to seem too excited

"Please, go ahead - it's all yours unless something is not up to your liking."

You finally went through the shopping bags; there was clothes, products, jewelry, shoes and all other sorts of items

You hugged the giant close to your chest, choking back on your tears

"thank you-"

"No need to thank me, you're always so kind to me I just wanted to return the favour."

Barbatos:

You were a like a breath of fresh air, someone he could just go to

He can unwind and be rewarded for his efforts and others normally don't notice

Whilst his lord was always praising him, it felt different with you

It felt so joyful

You would brush through his hair, always thank him even if he's just doing his job and always seem to be in awe at what he does

He'll never forget the gloves you gave him, sleek and a perfect fit with a cursive 'B' stitched to the edge - they were enchanted to warm up whenever he got cold

"Wow! You prepared all this?! That must of taken you ages! You're really amazing, Barb."

"I'm simply doing my job but your praise makes it all worth it."

Often invites you to the castle for tea

He'll make any excuse to have you come see him; the prince wants to talk, he wants a hand with a recipe, he needs an outsider's opinion on something

Whatever he can come up with; he will use it

You might as well just stay in one of the guest bedrooms because you're always coming to the castle

Speaking of excuses; today Barbatos decided to thank your lovely behaviour

Convincing you to come to the castle and meet him in the dining hall

"I saw you eyeing some recipes whilst helping me in the kitchen so, I made you them AND wrote down how I did it exactly so you can make them any time you like."

"I- you didn't have to do that! Thank you for this, they look delicious."

"I always wanted to give you this."

You couldn't even ask what it was

He already held it up for you to see

It was a box of gloves with your the first letter of your name stitched onto the edge

They were heat up gloves!

"I thought you'd appreciate your own as they'll always be handy but the gesture of matching with someone you're close to is very appealing."

He helped you put the gloves on, pinching the tip of your fingers to make sure they fitted properly

He held your hand, admiring how it looked in his

You couldn't stop a few tears forming, smiling

You felt abit silly crying over heat up gloves but you couldn't help it

"I want to match with you more often, perhaps one day it'll end up being a ring."

[stellocchia]

So I haven't seen anyone ask you for headcanons in awhile so you can ignore this if you don't want to do headcanons

Anyways I just wanted to know if you have any c!Tommy and c!Quackity headcanons

Some good ol fluff

(Also what is their duo name again)

Yeah, it's been a while since I've done any!

Also, sorry I'm answering so late Anon, I've just been dealing with a bit of writer block recently.

Their duo name is Vice Duo? I think? I'm not entirely sure because I tend to avoid most duo names. There are just too many to remember for me.

So, let's get onto the headcanons!

So, Quackity and Tommy talk. Sometimes they even talk about deep shit, like their insecurities, their fears, their resentments. Just everything they need someone to talk to about, but have no one to go to for. That said, they're both absolutely emotionally constipated (in different ways, but still) so they always have to find excuses to make it less personal. Needless to say, Quackity has found himself talking about trauma with a pair of floating pants more times than he can count

Normally, after their talks, Quackity just invites Tommy to the restaurant in Las Nevadas and gets him something warm to eat and drink. It's their routine. Neither of them mentions anything about their talk, they just chill together

Tommy has also knitted and embroidered a beanie for Quackity. When he gave it to him Quackity pointed out that he doesn't wear those anymore and Tommy offered to take it back, which Quackity promptly denied hugging it to his chest and hissing. It's the first and only time he ever hissed at someone

Also, Quackity frequently checks up on Tommy now that Dream's out. He offered him multiples times to move into Las Nevadas, but Tommy refused 'cause he needs some semblance of normalcy. Quackity understood, but that DOES mean that they'll meet up almost every day for some tea

Also, while Quackity isn't a very physically affectionate person he knows that Tommy is and he doesn't mind when the teen hugs him so they end up exchanging at least a quick hug pretty much every time they see each other

[sunarintoes]

Pretty Setter Squad Boyfriend Headcanons

part one can be found here II wc: 2.4k II includes: kageyama, suga, kenma, akaashi, semi and oikawa II atsumu and shirabu 

rewriting because i cringe at the old hcs 😭

✗ Kagggggsss

✗ The emotionally constipated blueberry <3 oh yeahh 😎

✗ Okay well first off he can barely process his emotions (*cough* evidently *cough*)

✗ When you two first started going out he was quite shy and unsure of what to do so you may have had to guide him a bit, but if youre equally shy then it just would have taken longer to get to where you are now; oh and if that was the case it probably took some random burst of energy/confidence from either one of you to make the first move. 

✗ He will buy you milk but uf you hate it (like me 🤢) he will buy you another drink - like juice :D

✗ I dont think he will be the most affectionate, it’s not his love language - and neither are words haHAH. His love language is most likely quality time and gift giving.

✗ He does like to cuddle though 😳

✗ In fact he really likes to :D his favourite is when youre sitting in his lap while he watches a volleyball game (at home - he hates pda). 

✗ This brings us to our next, short point. Kageyama absolutely despises pda, he just thinks its something meant for closed doors and he does not believe that he has to display his relationship for the whole world to ogle at. The most he will do is light hand holding - mostly just linking your pinkies though.

✗ When it comes to height he does not care if you're smaller or taller than him ← but bb, please don't tease him about his height if he’s shorter because he will blow a fuse.

✗ He alternates between small spoon and big spoon, kinda depending on his mood. 

✗ BOY O BOY does he get jealous. Uh please reign in your setter >:( 

✗ Its mostly due to the fact that he’s insecure about himself - he thinks you will leave him like everyone else (in middle school - yes, he is still traumatised from it.)

✗ When he does get jealous he might be snappy to the other person and glare at them or be snappy at you and glare at you. When this happens please give him space because he needs it to clear his head. When he feels better he will come up to you and hug you into his chest so that he can’t see your face and you cant see his, then he will mumble an apology.

✗ Ever since you two began to date he has practiced apologising and getting better at apologising, this is because his inability to admit to his own mistakes was a sour patch in your relationship that almost ended it but he really did not want to lose you so he sucked up his pride and worked on what he had to; of course you also worked in what you had to. God I love character development 😩

✗ Dates are mostly at home dates or dates revolving around volleyball. If you're not into volleyball, Kageyama would not date you, it's something he is so passionate about and loves with every breath he takes (like you) and he refuses to compromise one love for the other. 

✗ ooooh he likes arcade dates a well! He thrives in a competitive environment. If you're not competitive and don't want to compete against him then he’ll compete for you - against the machines lol. Of course you play as well! But i doubt youre as competitive as this blueberry, and if you are - well i guess at the end of the day youll both be stacked in tokens 🤠

✗ Sugawara my beloved <33

✗ He. Is. So. Affectionate! 

✗ Mans loves skin on skin contact ykwim?

✗ He is down for pda and does not care what others think - only what you think <3. 

✗ I mean he might make out with you in public if you ask nicely 

✗ Dates are very fun with him, he’ll take you to cafes, to amusement parks, to carnivals, to movies and all the like. He’s a cliche lover and he’s proud of it.

✗ Your first kiss happened on New Years Eve/Day. The two of you sat on the roof of his house and watched as the fireworks lit up the starry sky of Miyagi and chanted the count down together. The second ‘one’ left your lips he grabbed your face (softly!!) and pulled you in to crash his lips against yours. 

✗ Suga loves to cuddle, preferably face to face because he just thinks you're the most beautiful person in the world. 

✗ He is not the most jealous person, he definitely does get jealous but never of strangers. It's more when his close friends or your close friends get a bit too comfortable if that makes sense? He normally plays it off with humour and messes around because he acknowledges that he is insecure and that it is most likely him thinking of the worst case scenario; however if he really does start to worry and get jealous then he will sit you down and talk about it with you. To him, communication is key. 

✗ Ngl Kenma is definitely in my top 3 favourites. 

✗ I may or may not be a Kenma kinnie 😳🙈

✗ i love my non-toxic gamer boy <33 anywho: no matter what ANYONE says, kenma is definitely affectionate. In fact I'd say he’s one of the most affectionate boyfriends. As we all know, he is shy and introverted but he likes to hang around and spend time with people he likes. He also talks a lot to them. So I hc that he’s a bit of a chatterbox with you and it makes him really happy when you let him talk about a game or a theory he has. He’s a great listener so you can count on him to pay attention to what you say.

✗ if you didn't already have one, he bought you a switch. He loves video game dates especially when he can't see you in person (*cough* lockdown *cough*) 

✗ he loves when you sit on his lap when he plays video games. I know everyone talks about sitting on their partner’s lap as some sexual thing and yeah that can happen but most of the time he’s really soft with you and just enjoys being close to you. Loves when you cuddle into him while he plays so that he can place his head on yours or your shoulder. 

✗ i think he is a bit shy when it comes to kisses but definitely warms up after a while. He absolutely refuses to sleep if he doesnt get your goodnight kisses. He loves to kiss you on your nose and your cheeks the most. He loves when you kiss him on the forehead and the nose <3

✗ kenma is not one for pda, it's just not his vibe. He prefers intimacy and privacy; his relationship is not a movie for the world to watch and gawk at. Especially timeskip!kenma. Though that does not mean he wont ever show you skinship in public, occasionally he will softly hold your hand and maybe press a light kiss to your cheek. 

✗ in terms of jealousy, he is moderate. Kenma, as we all know, has incredible people reading skills, so he understands the situation pretty clearly and knows when you’re uncomfortable/what you think of the situation. Most of the time you can deal with the unwanted attention and he doesnt get jealous, but he does get insecure. He shows this by going quiet and looking away when you look at him, you can cure this by giving him hugs when you get home. 

✗ Akaashi my beloved <3 he’s so pretty i can't even-

✗ ugh! Just imagine him in a dark/light academia aesthetic. 

✗ perfection. 

✗ akaashi is the sweetest most attentive boyfriend, he loves you to pieces and never fails to let you know. He tells you he loves you every morning and every night. He probably makes meals for you and leaves notes in that have a sweet comment like “i love you, you're the best <3” 

✗ he love back hugging you BUT also receiving back hugs 🥺✨

✗ akaashi is a booknerd and an introvert. Please cuddle up to him and let him read his book to you. 

✗ there are only 2 things that can restore his social battery: sleeping and you.

✗ which means he wants cuddles when he’s tired 😊

✗ he is not jealous. He just doesn't get jealous, maybe annoyed if the third party is being a bit too pushy and you're clearly uncomfortable, but he just never feels jealous. No matter how hard you may try to make him jealous (plz dont cause that's kinda toxic imo) he just won't feel that way.

✗ definitely the ‘mom/dad’ as he carries sinister, pads, bandaids → a whole first aid kit basically, everywhere. Bb must be prepared. 

✗ dates are so sweet with him, cute niche cafes and dimly lit libraries. Maybe the occasional abandoned building. He loves spending time with you, so really he's happiest whenever he’s with you; having coffee at McDonalds or a niche cafe won't change anything. 

✗ he’s hard to pinpoint for pda. I feel like he’s indifferent about it. He probably prefers to keep it indoors or to just small and sweet gestures (no making out in public sorry-). It definitely comes down to your preferences, if you don't like it then he won't and vice versa.

✗ semi semi semi semi semi semi

✗ omg mr musician 

✗ he definitely plays guitar - lead guitar and bass guitar. 

✗ skilled fingies for sure 😗

✗ boy why are musicians so hot???? 😫😫😫💦💦

✗ he writes songs about you. Semsem has a bit of trouble saying exactly how he feels, so he writes it and sings it to you with a small little smile and eyes full of love. 

✗ off topic but Semu has the best music taste in haikyuu

✗ he loves hugs so much <33 please hug and cuddle with him 24/7

✗ very affectionate, he’s always touching you someway. Loves kissing your forehead. 

✗ he is jealous. Yeah definitely. He writes songs about being jealous 🗿 not that you mind of course ‘cause they're bangers. I think he might get snappy when he’s jealous, not directly at you but at the other person. He definitely gets a bit bitchy. Sometimes he acts that way to you so you've just gotta slap some sense into him. Say something like “what's your problem?” or “tell me what your problem is so i can help fix it.” ← that's probably the best thing to say. 

✗ afterwards he’ll just snuggle with you until he feels better. 

✗ he asks for your opinion about his songs all the time, please be honest (but also praise them if you like them lol)

✗ he takes you to niche spots he finds, like hidden concerts and stuff. Loves when you come to his gigs <3 oh and when you scream for him (in more ways than one). 

✗ dates are cute and fun. Mostly walking around together → carnivals, main street, farmers market. Those kind of things. 

✗ when it comes to pda he loves it. Loves being able to show the world who his s/o is. If you don't like it then he will tone it down and only do what you’re comfortable with. If you're also into pda then he will happily make out with you anywhere (you're one of THOSE couples 🤢 /j) 

✗ all round best boyfie <3

✗ oikawa 😳 have i told y'all how much i love him? Oikawa is the best written character, no cap, he is so complex and real it's crazy. It's so fun to write about him because you can pick him apart, you know his flaws, his weaknesses, his nightmares but also his strengths and dreams. Anywho i'll stop ranting now but i just love writing for such a perfectly imperfect character-

✗ he puts up a cocky exterior but thats all false. He's as scared as you are, he's scared that you'll leave him like his exes because of how obsessed and focused he is on volleyball. However he is a changed man, he's learned to balance his priorities. If you ever feel like you're being sidelined please communicate with him. 

✗ he values communication above all else and wants nothing more in a partner than for them to also value communication.

✗ back to the point → if you feel insecure of your relationship and that volleyball is taking too much of his attention let him know. He will change that. To an extent → he may have an important game coming up which is why he is focusing more, but he will always find time for you. 

✗ he never forgets to text you good morning and good night. He also sends you wholesome memes and makes sure you're taking care of yourself - they're like reminders for him to also take care of himself. 

✗ he is both jealous and insecure. Everyone who gets too close to you or spends a lot of time with you, he is jealous of. Jealous because he wishes he could spend more time with you but he knows he can't - not without jeopardising his volleyball career. He's also insecure, because he knows you could just leave him for a more fulfilling, more attentive, more balanced relationship. You know that too, I mean, of course you could leave him but no one would be as good as him. No one could match up to your beautifully flawed boyfriend.

✗ he is affectionate, very, very affectionate. He loves you so much. And because he spends so much time on volleyball, anytime with you he's touching you - memorizing every dint, every curve, everything about you so that he won't ever forget. 

✗ Oikawa has trouble sleeping unless he's with you, he wants to sling to you in his sleep and be grounded and remember that he is loved and cherished and appreciated y'know?

✗ pda is not an issue for him. He doesn't care what anyone else says or thinks :P in this relationship the only opinions that matter are his and your’s. Tell him you're uncomfortable with something and he won't do it, and vice versa. But otherwise, like Semi, he won't mind having a good makeout session with you in the middle of the street ;)

[anne-is-drowning]

Yennefer gets jealous of you and Jaskier. Love confessions ensue.

Honestly you were drunk. The tavern's sounds flooded your senses and could almost make you forget your heartbreak. That goddamn witch with her violet eyes and raven hair and dresses that hugged her figure just right. The emotionally constipated sorceress whose strength and passion kept you up at night. You two had a strange relationship. You teased each other mercilessly. You even thought she hates you at first. But no, you weren't going down that path, not tonight. You focused on Jaskier's babbling.

–And truly I cannot understand for the love of me what he sees in that murderous witch! You know she tried to kill me once?! With a djinn! Insane that woman is.

You chuckled at Jaskier's outrage. This was your deal. He badmouthed Yenn and you slacked off Geralt. It wasn't fair for either of them but again, it also wasn't fair that they were too lost in eachother to noticed Jaskier and you.

–Yes and I honestly don't get what's so captivating about those grunts of his. –You added.– Sure he's handsome but

–Oh that arse...

–Jask focuse!

He threw an arm around you and apologized.

–Sorry dear. Please carry on.

–I just mean that Yen could at least give me some consideration for at least completing a full sentence.

–Instead of judging my crow's feet. Some of us didn't sell our souls for ageless skin. –Jaskier pouted saddly.

You held his head in your hands and kissed him on the forehead.

–Jask. My darling. I can assure you that you look as flawless as ever.

He dramatically wiped a fake tear from his eye and you both started giggling drunkenly.

At that Yennefer put a hand on your shoulder and said she was tired. You two were meant to share a room tonight as you often did when her and Geralt didn't feel like spending the night together after a rather loud fucking.

–Go on then, I'm staying with Jask here we are having a tremendous time.

She dragged you to your feet and whispered in your ear:

–You're bloody drunk and I do not want to deal with you or him– she stared pointedly at Jaskier – going on about your headaches tomorrow. Just do as I tell you.

She smelled like lilac and gooseberries. You mouthed a sorry to Jaskier who just waved a hand at you and picked up his lute. Your drunk brain just followed Yennefer up the stairs and into your joined room without much complaining but a lot of stumbling.

You laid in your bed and laughed quietly at the ceiling. Ale was really not good for you.

–You idiot. –Yennefer said with a soft look in her eyes.

At that your eyes welled up at you turned away from her. There it was. The familiar ache in your heart.

–What's wrong? –Yen asked alarmed.

You looked up at her, your eyes filled with tears and slurred:

–You always choose him.

She looked angry then. Just for a moment and then her stare was impassive and cold.

–And you always choose the bard. –she uttered.

You laughed incredulously, the serious atmosphere of the moment sobering you up.

–He's my best friend Yen. I'm not fucking him!

–Oh please, if I hadn't interrupted you two you'd me in his bed next morning. –she stated almost casually, but you could hear the hurt in her voice.

Something dawned on you.

–Yennefer. You're not jealous, are you? You're with Geralt. You can't possibly be jealous of me and Jaskier.

–I'm not with Geralt. I haven't been for quite some time.

You stood up and walked to her looking up at her violet gaze. You stared at her lips and she stared at yours while holding your cheek softly.

–Why?– You whisper.

Yennefer clashed her mouth onto yours and kissed you with the need of someone who was drowning. Your hand tangled in her ebony hair. Her hand holding your waist so you were flushed against her.

"This is why" you thought as you smiled into the kiss.

[whoneedssubtitles]

it’s cold out here ☁️

part zero of to be loved by bakugo

read more: series masterlist

pairing: bakugo x reader (poc friendly)

summary: you take a breather outside and bakugo comes to find you.

genre: slice of life, comfort, fluff

cw: mentions of worries about the future

wc: 0.7k

author’s note: oh bakugo... if only you weren’t so emotionally constipated

Bakugo hasn’t always been this observant. It’s just that when Deku began improving so quickly, he knew he had to do something different: take a page from the nerd’s book and take some time to learn about the people around him. If anything, the information could help him in training exercises. He was still learning to master the skill of sleuthy staring, oftentimes being caught by his latest subject of focus and having to come up with some quick witted excuse to keep his peers from thinking too much of it.

He’d been studying you for the past few days. It was nothing outrageous, just mentally taking note of how you did in class, what you were working on during training, and what adjustments you made to your hero costume.

Today seemed to be different. He didn’t see your hand shoot excitedly into the air to answer Aizawa’s questions, though you definitely knew the answers to them. He didn’t hear you laughing with Mina and Denki at lunch or trying to snap Deku out of his rambles after class. You weren’t even up for practicing your ultimate move with Iida today. What was going on?

And there you were, sat on the front steps of the UA dorms, a bit off to the side so you wouldn��t be in anyone’s way—such a pushover, you were. You were in your pajama shorts, a long sleeved top, and a pair of socks. Did you not expect to stay out for long? Knees hugged to your chest, your gaze was focused on the sunset in front of you. Without hesitation, Bakugo’s feet carried him downstairs to meet you outside.

“Get inside, dumbass, it’s cold out here.”

You turned your head at the sound of his voice, almost shocked to see him leaning against a pillar only a few feet away. “Are you talking to me or yourself?” you retorted, turning back to face the sky. You’ve talked to him a number of times before, mostly in passing and about classwork assignments. You didn’t think he would be the first one to notice your off day.

He sucked his teeth before moving to sit near you, suddenly reminded that he didn’t exactly have a plan for what he’d do when he found you. Comfort you, probably, but how?

After a few moments of silence, you heard the sound of his black hoodie unzipping, the fabric now balled up in his hand as he held it out to you. “Take it.”

“I’m not cold.” A lie, for sure, but you weren’t going to be outside long enough for it to matter. You needed a break from everything and was just getting some fresh air.

He grumbled something about lighting you up under his breath before saying more clearly, “I didn’t ask.”

He messily shoved the hoodie into your lap. You, covered in goosebumps, silently put it on and zipped it halfway.

You didn’t say anything else, too consumed by thoughts about your future. You were decent in your classes, but how would that translate to real hero work? Villains were becoming stronger, smarter, and bolder. Being a top hero required long hours, sleepless nights, and regularly putting yourself in danger. You weren’t sure if you had the chops for it anymore. “Do you ever worry about not being successful, Bakugo?”

“No.” His lips were pressed in a tight line, unwavering.

You began to laugh quietly, trying to stifle it in the sleeves of the hoodie.

“What’s so funny?” Bakugo snapped louder than necessary, making you laugh harder. “You don’t believe me? I’m gonna become the number one hero if it’s the last thing I’ll do!”

“No, it’s not that,” you said with a sigh and a lazy smile. Maybe there was something you could learn from his stubborn confidence and endless drive. “You’re just really bad at comforting people.”

daydream masterlist.