#thank you for asking! i'm sorry it took me so long to answer

[simplygojo]

I Like Your Tie...

A/n: OMG ONE OF MY FAVS REQUESTED! I loved this request; thats why it took SO LONG I’m sorry my friend I hope you enjoyyyy!! <3 I needed another Nanami request so bad so you did me a favour with this one, LOLLL.

Request: “Your last Toji fic got me frothing like a rabid dog. Lol. in all ways it was very uniquely him indeed ! The same for Gojo and Witch!Reader. Could I shy request a fic with the song 'Talk' by Hozier paired up with Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader ? Something sensual steamy but ever so romantic for the blonde? I can practically see him saying or thinking such lyric quotes as "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do... So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you. Imagine being loved by me". May she's a fellow Special Grade sorcerer, and their friendship keeps building up, but neither wants to cross the line ? So they dance around it, until something happens ? Idk. >\\\\\\\\\\\\\\< I'll leave it to your artistic hands and imagination what to do with this? If you feel inspired to. In any case, please delete if this seems rubbish. Anyway, thank you for your stories ! Thank you so much. ♡” - @erebus-et-eigengrau (lurvv uu)

My requests are always open :)

Pairing: Kento Nanami x f/reader

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: 18+ Content, SMUT!, intercourse, light choking, control kink(ish), pet name

The late-night quiet of Jujutsu High was comforting in a way—no students rushing through the halls, no teachers around to monitor. You had been grateful for the peace, retreating to your room after a long day.

But as you reached your door, you stopped in your tracks.

There he was. Nanami Kento stood in front of your door, leaning casually against the wall. 

—

You and Nanami had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, though it all began back in high school. Back then, you had a bit of a crush on him—not that you’d ever admit it. He wasn’t the type to flirt or give much attention to relationships, but there was something about him that always caught your eye. 

You had your moments, too—shared laughter, and private conversations late into the night, when the walls between friends almost seemed to blur. 

But Nanami never made a move, and neither did you. You knew how seriously he took his role as a sorcerer, and you didn’t want to complicate your friendship with feelings that you weren’t sure were mutual.

As you both graduated and eventually became high-level sorcerers, those moments of potential intimacy became even more distant. You grew into your own roles, taking on increasingly dangerous missions and fighting curses that most could barely comprehend. Nanami was often assigned to the same missions as you, his calm, steady presence a source of reassurance when things got chaotic.

There were times when his professionalism would slip, just for a moment. A fleeting look, a brush of his fingers against yours, his voice dropping an octave when he spoke your name. You always wondered if he felt it too—that same tension you tried so hard to ignore. But you never dared to ask, afraid of what it might mean if the answer was yes.

And now, standing in front of him in the quiet after everything that had just happened, you realized just how deeply those old feelings still ran.

There were times, though, when your old crush resurfaced. 

Sometimes, it was the way he’d look at you across the battlefield, silently checking to see if you were okay, his eyes filled with a concern that was more than just professional. Other times, it was the rare, gentle touch when he’d help you after a fight—his hand brushing your arm or waist as he steadied you after a particularly tough encounter.

But you always pushed those feelings down, refusing to acknowledge them for the sake of professionalism. 

The sorcery world didn’t leave much room for distractions, and you knew that Nanami was as dedicated as ever. He was the picture of control, never letting emotions dictate his actions, always focused on the mission at hand. You convinced yourself that whatever crush you had on him was just remnants of your high school days, a fleeting fantasy that had no place in your current life.

—

His arms were crossed, his tie long loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt undone. The dim lighting of the hallway cast a shadow over his sharp features, making the intensity in his eyes even more pronounced. He looked every bit the composed man he always was, but something about the way his gaze followed your every movement made your heart stutter.

“Nanami…” His name left your lips in a quiet murmur, not expecting to see him there, not like this.

“You’re out late,” he observed, his voice steady but lower than usual, as if the stillness of the night demanded it.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. “Well, one of the first-years wanted some late-night training…What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away, eyes flicking down to your lips before settling back on yours. 

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable, making it hard to think clearly. His usual restraint seemed to falter, just slightly, but enough to make your pulse race.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice was steady, but the words made your breath hitch.

Your heart pounded in your chest. 

“Waiting for me?” You said quietly, a heat beginning to pool between your thighs.

Nanami pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer to you, his movements deliberate. The space between you closed as his tall figure made its way toward you—the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks finally came to a boil. 

“Why were you waiting for me..?” You questioned, “I need to talk,” He responded, his voice barely above a whisper.

He was close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“I used to try to talk so refined, in fear of you finding out…” He admitted, his voice lower now, almost rough around the edges. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. 

“Finding out what, Nanami.” You breathed, watching how his lips parted just slightly while he paused. “How I’ve been imagining you." 

The air between you was thick with tension, so heavy you could almost taste it. Nanami stood inches away, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. His normally professional demeanour had cracked, revealing something raw, something primal. The careful distance you both had maintained was no longer there.

"Imagining me…?" You repeated, your voice barely more than a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it.

Nanami’s eyes darkened, and his gaze roamed over you in a way that left your body practically squirming under his scrutiny. His jaw clenched for a moment as though fighting some internal battle, but when he spoke, his voice was low and hoarse, filled with a desire he was no longer trying to hide.

“Every time I look at you,” he confessed, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you, “I think about how you’d feel under my touch… under me.”

Your breath caught, your throat suddenly dry as his words sank in. The image of his hands on your skin, the weight of him pressing against you, the feeling of him between your legs—it sent a wave of heat through your body, leaving you borderline trembling with anticipation.

“Nanami…” you whispered his name, your voice trembling with the same desire that was now coursing through you. The distance between you felt unbearable.

The professionalism you both held onto so tightly was crumbling, and the temptation to give in was overwhelming.

The hallway was too quiet, too intimate, and it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away. It was just the two of you, standing there on the precipice of something dangerous and irresistible.

“I won’t deny I’ve got in my mind now all the things we’d do,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper as his thumb traced your jawline, gently tilting your head with two fingers. His eyes darkened with want, and the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

That was all it took. The pull between you snapped, and before you could think, your hands were fisting in his dark blue shirt, pulling him down to meet your lips in a kiss that was heated, desperate—inevitable.

His hand swiftly opened your door before pushing you into it, causing both of you to stumble into the dimly lit room. With a loud thud, Nanami kicked the door shut before pushing you back up against your entryway wall.

Nanami groaned softly into your mouth—your pussy practically throbbing at the sound—and his hands immediately wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer as if he couldn’t stand the idea of any space between you. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that you hadn’t expected, and it left you breathless.

You gasped when his hands gripped your hips firmly, pushing more firmly against the wall. The cool surface against your back was a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from him as he pressed himself closer, his lips never leaving yours.

His kisses were deliberate, slow—but rough—as if he wanted to savour every moment of this. 

"Mmf…Nanami," you breathed, pulling back just enough to look at him, your lips swollen from the kiss, breathless. "What are we doing?"

His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged as he looked down at you. There was something raw, unguarded in his expression. “What I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. “Now be a good girl for me, y/n.” He practically purred against your lips, as he lifed you so your legs wrapped around his waist. 

His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding up your sides while you were pinned against the wall, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You tugged at his hair, your fingers desperate to feel more of him.

His hands, rough from battle and years of work, were surprisingly gentle as they slid beneath your shirt, fingers brushing over your painfully hard nipples, teasing you. You arched into him, your body responding to every touch.

He made quick work of your jacket—and that tiny tank top you wore underneath it, his hands roughly reaching for every bit of exposed skin.

Nanami growled softly with your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips trailed down the column of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that had you moaning his name.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, his breath hot against your neck, but the fire in his eyes told you stopping was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Don’t," you whispered—pleading with him for more, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. "Don’t stop."

Nanami’s eyes darkened further at your words, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his lips. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. 

His hand moved up to the tie hanging loosely around his neck, fingers working quickly to loosen it even further. Before you could register what he was doing, he slid the tie off entirely, his movements deliberate and slow as he looped the fabric around your neck.

The silk felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body. His eyes never left yours as he gently tugged at the tie, pulling you closer, the pressure on your throat light but enough to send a thrill through you that went straight to your now-soaked pussy.

“There,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over the side of your neck as he admired how the tie looked wrapped around you, it falling on your bare chest. In a moment, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower this time as his free hand continued to explore your body. He kissed a path down to your chest, the tie around your neck tightening just slightly as he pulled you even closer.

He brought you to the couch in your small room with one hand while the other held the back of your head as his tongue explored your mouth.

“You look so beautiful like this, do you know that, y/n? With my tie around your pretty little neck…” He murmured against your skin, his voice laced with raw, unfiltered need. 

Hoisting you up onto the back of the couch, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs, and the contact made you gasp. 

With one swift but gentle movement, Nanami slid your skirt and tights down your legs, and now you sat in front of him—completely vulnerable.

“Nanami—” Your words were cut off by a moan as his fingers returned, pressing more firmly, the slow, torturous circles he drew making your entire body tremble. The tie tightened just a fraction more as he leaned back to look at you, his thumb brushing against your clit in a way that had your heart racing even faster.

“You’re so responsive for me,” he growled softly, his fingers entering your dripping cunt slowly, making sure to feel every inch of your interior. “It’s driving me insane.”

You could barely breathe, the combination of his fingers between your legs and the light pressure of the tie around your neck leaving you a trembling mess in his arms. You clung to him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you fought to hold on, your body betraying you with every ragged breath and every desperate moan.

"Nanami, please..." You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and breathless as you begged for him.

He smirked against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction. “You want more, don’t you?” He asked, his voice thick with amusement, but the tension in his body told you he was just as desperate as you were.

You nodded, your head falling back as your body arched into his touch. “Please…”

The sound of your begging seemed to snap something in him. With one swift motion, he lifted you up with one arm and spun you around before setting you on your feet in front of him, your ass pressing up against his bulge as the cool leather from the couch pressed against your lower abdomen. 

He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers slipped inside you again, making you gasp loudly at the sudden (welcomed) intrusion. 

“I want to hear you beg for me again,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved with agonizing slowness, teasing you, driving you to the brink of insanity. His other hand subtly undid his belt, lowering his pants just enough to expose his desperate cock.

You moaned, arching into his hand, your body betraying you as it responded to every touch, every whisper of his breath on your skin. “Nanami...hmmf…please...I-I need you in me.” You managed to get out between moans.

“That’s it,” he growled, his fingers exiting you, but they were quickly replaced by his dick as he inserted himself into you—feeling you stretch around him caused him to throw his head back in pleasure, and he gave a little yank on the tie, your head jerking backwards as your stomach pressed harder into the couch, provoking a pornographic moan to exit your lips.

“Fuck,” he growled, his breath hot against your skin as he buried himself inside you, again and again, each stroke thrusting deeper into your gummy walls, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You feel so good.”

His pace quickened, and the slow, deliberate rhythm gave way to something more primal and desperate. His control was slipping, and you could feel it in every rough thrust, every growl that rumbled from his chest as he claimed you completely.

The tie tightened again, the silk digging into your skin just enough to heighten the pleasure, and the sensation sent you spiralling toward the edge. Your body trembled beneath him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped for breath, the intensity of it all overwhelming.

He leaned forward, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper into you. He gently moved your hair off of your shoulder as his delicate fingers traced the border of his tie and your skin. “You really are such a good girl.”

His thumb pushed into clit as he thrusted into you at a dominating pace—the sensation was nearly enough to push you over the edge—but you held on a little longer. You cried out his name, your entire body shaking as his pace quickened, he tightened the feeling around your throat with the tie around your neck pulling you closer to him.

Nanami’s body moved behind you, the warmth of him pressing against your back as his hands gripped your hips. Bent over the back of your couch, with the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your flushed skin. “Mmhf–Nanami…Oh please.” You moaned out, practically begging him for more as he fucked you with a controlling pace

His breath was heavy, ragged, as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, making you feel the sheer size and strength of him as he dominated you completely.

Nanami’s fingers wrapped around his tie nicely wrapped around your neck, pulling it taut. The sensation made you gasp, your head tilting back slightly as the silk tightened around your throat just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. Suddenly he took his soaked dick out of you letting it land on your ass, rubbing his hand over the smooth skin.

“You look just perfect like this,” he growled low in your ear, his voice thick with lust as he tugged the tie just a bit tighter, your chin tilting up as he whispered in your ear. “Bent over—begging for me.”

Your legs trembled beneath you, your body quivering with anticipation, but before you could respond, he was inside you again. 

The stretch was immediate, deep, and overwhelming as he thrust into you from behind, filling you completely with a single stroke. You cried out, your fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he pulled you back against him, the tie keeping you tethered, under his controlled.

“Nanami…” You moaned his name, your voice barely more than a breathless whisper as he began to move, his hips snapping against you in a relentless rhythm. Every thrust was harder than the last, his grip on the tie tightening with every movement, pulling you back into him, forcing you to feel every inch of him.

His pace was brutal, his control slipping entirely as he watched the way your body reacted to him, the way you moaned his name with every stroke. His free hand found your hip, gripping you so tightly that you were sure there’d be marks tomorrow, but the thought only sent another wave of arousal through you.

“You feel so good, y/n,” he growled, his voice rough as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against the back of your neck. “My good girl...”

His words are what sent you over the edge, the stimulation of your orgasm turning your vision white. 

Your body was on fire, every nerve alive with pleasure as he drove into you again and again. The tie around your neck tightened even more, the pressure just enough to leave you lightheaded, completely at his mercy. You felt every inch of him inside you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, along with your breathless moans as pleasure washed over you.

Nanami's body pressed closer as you shuddered beneath him, the waves of your orgasm still coursing through you. 

But he didn’t stop. 

Even as your body trembled, oversensitive and breathless, he kept thrusting into you with the same relentless intensity. His pace didn’t falter, and each stroke seemed deeper, more demanding, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you clenched around him.

Your moans turned to gasps as pleasure mixed with the overwhelming sensation of him continuing to push you past your limit. Your fingers clutched at his back, nails digging into his skin with a painful force, but he didn't slow down. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

“Look at you, taking it so well," he groaned, his voice dark and full of praise. "You feel so good, I don’t want to stop.”

Your legs shook around him, your body still pulsating from your release, and the overstimulation had you crying out, your nails leaving marks along his back. 

"Nanami... please..." you gasped, unsure if you were begging him to stop or to keep going. You felt like you were being consumed, every nerve on fire, and yet your body responded to his touch, desperate for more.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, his hand still pressed firmly against your clit drawing rough circles. The tie around your neck tightened just a bit more, enough to remind you of the control he had, the control you were willingly giving him.

“I’m not done with you yet," he growled, his thrusts growing rougher, faster, his body taking full control over yours. "You can come again for me, can’t you?"

You didn’t know how it was possible, but the overwhelming pleasure began to build again inside you. His touch on your clit was insistent, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless, teetering on the edge of something even more intense than before.

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation and pleasure merging into something maddening. Every nerve was alight, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. You were already too sensitive, your mind spinning as he pushed you closer and closer to the brink once again.

Nanami could feel it—he knew exactly how close you were, how your body tensed around him. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, his voice low and commanding. “Come for me again, y/n. I want to feel you fall apart around me baby.”

With that, his fingers pressed harder against your clit, and his hips slammed into you at a brutal pace, each thrust sending you spiraling further out of control. The pressure inside you coiled impossibly tight, and with a cry of his name, you shattered once more, the intensity of your second orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your body shook uncontrollably, your moans turning to sobs of pleasure as you convulsed around him. The sensation was too much, too overwhelming, and yet you never wanted it to end. Nanami’s name fell from your lips like a prayer as he continued thrusting into you, his own breathing growing more ragged, more desperate.

"That's it," he growled, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched you unravel beneath him, his pace rapidly increasing. "So fucking beautiful."

He wasn’t far behind. The way your walls clenched around him, the way you shook with each thrust, sent him over the edge. 

His pace grew erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he buried himself deep inside you one last time, groaning your name as he came. He tugged at the tie harshly, yanking you up form your bent over position so yoru back was against his sweaty chest, his hand gently holding your chin up. 

“You were so good for me,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, igniting a spark in you again. You remained silent for a few moments, breath staggered as you tried to catch it, still shaking with pleasure as he held you upright in front of him. 

Finally, you opened your mouth to speak, a cheeky smile playing on your lips, “I like your tie…”

[adokyoguen]

hi! I have a req idea - Gojo tearing up when yn kisses his forehead as he’s never felt so vulnerable 🫠

take care :)

Basically, for me, satoru wouldn't cry in front of Y/N because he wants to continue being the strongest for her.

BUUT, that wouldn't stop him from crying over her in hiding 😏

Here it is, I made it short but if you want a continuation please feel free!

Please forgive any mistakes and correct me! I needed the translator's help several times. :((

Your eyes slowly opened so that you could adjust to the brightness of the room. You felt sore, several parts of your body including your abdomen and forehead were bandaged.

But... what really happened?

Oh, right, you and the second-year students had just fought Suguru, everyone was completely destroyed, and that included you. Sure, Gojo arrived late, but he was able to end Suguru's life. When he found you, you were lying on the floor, completely injured, as were Panda, Inumaki and Maki.

Taking you all to the infirmary was a difficult job, even more so when you were so fragile that Satoru thought he would break you if he held you wrong.

You were one of the first to receive treatment from Shoko, your bleeding was internal, but thank God you were fine.

When you had stabilized and woken up, you looked to the side, finding flowers and a letter written on the dresser;

"If you're reading this, you probably woke up without me. I'm currently solving the problems with Sukuna's vessel, so I'll be back soon to see you.

Take care :)

Note: I left a chocolate hidden for you inside your pillow.

Satoru Gojo. ♡"

You smiled as you read the letter and decided to sleep a little longer to recover until he came back.

23:43 PM

When it was night, you woke up with the infirmary door opening and footsteps walking to your stretcher. And there he was, with that arrogant smile as always.

— Oh princess, are you finally awake? — He says, sitting on the chair next to your bed.

— If my eyes are open, I probably woke up. — Tsk... so ignorant... — Satoru laughs, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger. — So... how do you feel?

— Huh... well? I can't say, my body hurts but at the same time I feel quite energetic. — You say and he smiles.

— Well, it's to be expected, you were unconscious for 4 days.

— Wait... What?

— Yes, Shoko said you lost a lot of blood, you had several internal hemorrhages. You swallowed hard.

— And Suguru...? — You didn't want to ask that. Not when he was the one who hurt you so much. But gosh... you cared so much about him... you didn't have the courage to kill him and he took advantage of that.

— I killed him. — He says, without any joking tone in his voice. Had his efforts been in vain? You were so distracted by your thoughts that you barely noticed Satoru's voice stuck in his throat, but either way, he didn't want you to notice that.

— I... I'm sorry Toru...

— Nah, it's okay. — He says smiling, you knew he wasn't completely okay. Suguru was the only best friend Gojo had in his entire life, and now, he had been killed by himself, but of course, it was Satoru Gojo, he was always "fine". — I'll let you rest a little, I need to go after Director Yaga.

— Okay... — You answer as you watch him get up.

— See you later, princess.

— Wait!— You shout, grabbing the man's wrist and pulling him closer. With a quick movement, you place a long kiss on his forehead and whisper. — You're the strongest Satoru, but you're still human, remember that for me, okay?

Satoru was surprised, but with his bandage over his eyes, you could barely notice. He smiled, nodding.

— Good night, princess. — He places a loving kiss on your forehead, as a way of thanking you and leaves the infirmary.

You didn't know, but when he left the infirmary, he removed his blindfold to wipe the tears he shed.

Maybe today you won't see him cry, but who knows one day?

[madhatterbri]

Opportunity | D.P.

Summary: Reader and Damian are friends and are basically in love, but they don't know it. Damian sees Reader getting harassed by an ex or a fan or whatever and tries to defuse the situation, but ends up beating the guy up lol smut and confessions of love follow soon after?

Author's Note: Happy Monday Night RAW, babes. 🫶

Damian Priest Masterlist

Requested by @eringobragh420

Taglist: @theworldofotps @mrsarcherofinfamy @brideofinfamy @miss-kuki-nz @terrortwinunicorn @magicalbuttertarts @new-zealand-chic @smallestsnarkestgirl

"I don't know, man. We just always have something going on and never seem to take us to the next step," Damian sighed. He was out drinking with some friends. It was true. Now that he and Y/N were single, he thought they would finally take their friendship to the next level. She seemed scared when he asked her about it. The wrestler never dreamed about the reasoning behind her rejecting him.

The archer of infamy was worried when she didn't answer his calls. He could count all the times she didn't answer on one hand. Y/N had told him days ago that she was still dealing with the mess. Once she didn't answer his text or call again, he went outside.

Y/N backed into her car. Her ex stood in front of her. His arms on both sides of her trapped her between himself and the car. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked away. The smell of alcohol lingered on his breath. He wouldn't leave her alone. She thought of Damian. Her beacon of light in a world full of darkness.

"You're never going to get rid of me," he threatened. "I will always be watching you,"

Her ex-boyfriend was suddenly pulled off of her. She watched in awe as her best friend, Damian, beat the crap out of him. When her ex started to lose consciousness, Y/N pulled him off of her. The angered man rubbed his black hair.

"How long has he been harassing you, huh? Why didn't you tell me?" He demanded. His heart broke when he saw her shrink back. The look of hurt and betrayal in her eyes burned in his skull. Damian took a deep breath and apologized.

"I'm sorry. Let me take you to my place. We will get your car in the morning,"

The drive was painfully quiet. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She was embarrassed. Y/N never wanted him to know what he did to her. She didn't want anyone to know.

When they made it back to his place, he comforted her. They talked about what was really going on in the past few months. The guy was a major asshole. One that she should have never linked up with.

"I just didn't want to feel alone," she admitted.

Damian placed a hand on hers. His thumb rubbed her soft skin. "You had me. You know I would never do anything like that to you,"

"I don't want to lose you, D. What if we don't work? I can't lose you," Y/N confessed. A fresh set of tears rolled down her cheeks. He wiped them away and pulled her close.

"Don't think of it like that. I love you, Y/N. I don't ever want to lose you either,"

"I love you too," she admitted. Her voice cracked.

The rest of the night was spent talking. She started to feel better and apologized for keeping it from him. By the time they went to bed, she had a permanent smile on her face. They confessed they loved each other. Something she thought would never happen.

Y/N woke up bright and early the next morning. She started to make them breakfast in the kitchen. He must have smelled the food because he appeared behind her a few minutes later. She still wore one of his shirts that he lent her.

"Wow, a beautiful girl making me breakfast? How did I get so lucky?"

She smiled and turned around. "Just a thank you for last night. You are the absolute best, D,"

"That's not the only thing that happened last night. Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"When you told me you loved me," he answered.

"I've never been more sure about anything else in my life,"

A smile broke on his handsome face. "I feel the same way. Can I kiss you?"

Y/N leaned in and kissed him. She waited for those words for so long. There was no way that she was going to let a single second pass. His hands explored her body. They rested on the small of her back. He wanted to keep her close. She was never running away from him again.

Finally, the pair pulled away for some air.

"I want to show you how much I love you, Y/N. What can I do to show-"

Damian was cut off the moment her lips found his once more. Her hand rested against his cheek. She grabbed his hand and led him to his bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him.

His hands reached under her shirt. He slid his hands up. The shirt was removed from her body, exposing her to him. He sucked in his breath. Brown eyes scanned her body from head to toe. She was perfect. Now left in only her underwear, she took a step back. The back of her knees hit against the bed.

She propped herself on her elbows. He removed his own shirt and threw it to the side. Damian leaned down to kiss her. His teeth pulled her bottom lip.

Y/N's body was worshipped by him. Her neck kissed as he praised her. His lips traveled south. Her nipples licked and teased. She squirmed under him. Her moans filled the room. Soft pants and calls for his name filled his ears.

His fingers snuck inside her panties. Her skin felt him smirk when he felt the damp fabric. She called his name when he applied pressure to her clit. His finger circled around her bundle of nerves.

The build-up in Y/N's lower stomach grew. She tried to close her legs, but he held her thigh. His dark eyes watched her facial expressions. She was in cloud nine, and this was all from his actions.

Damian pulled away from her. Fingers hooked her underwear and pulled them down. He tossed them to the side. He stood up. "Are you sure about this?"

"I want you, Damian," she promised. "More than I've ever wanted anyone before,"

Damian stripped. Y/N's eyes took all of him in. He kissed her lips softly and thrusted inside of her with ease. He groaned in her lips. His thrusts were slow at first. Once her pleasured sounds filled his ears, his thrusts picked up the pace. Her calls for his name turned him on more.

The pressure in her stomach grew. It felt like a rubber band about to snap. She wanted to wait until he finished. All this was for her. She resolved to finish last, but other plans were in the way.

His hand found her clit again. She begged him to stop. That he should finish first. He laughed and told her nonsense.

"Be a good girl for me,"

Her whole body tensed around him. Toes curled and sheets from underneath were gripped tightly. Damian tried to fuck her through it, but the pleasure was too intense. He stilled inside of her, his seed painting her walls.

When he caught his breath, he placed his forehead to hers. His breath tickled her.

"I love you, Y/N, and I will never waste this opportunity with you,"

[accio-sriracha]

"Will you read to me?"

A Wolfstar oneshot using 5 randomly generated words as prompts: Vehicle, Adoption, Ideology, Light, and Harp.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Remus sat on the sofa in the common room, content with the book in his hands and his tea sitting in front of him.

The boys were at quidditch practice, so he knew he would have a while to unwind and relax before-

"Honey! I'm home!" James' voice called as the portrait door swung open.

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"You ended practice early?" He asked, his attempt at lightheartedness failing miserably.

"Yup! More time to spend with you, Moony dearest." Sirius climbed through after him, plopping down on the sofa beside Remus.

"Hello, Moony." Peter smiled as the portrait closed behind them, "Whatcha reading?"

Remus placed his bookmark back within the pages, "I was reading Veronica Goth."

"Isn't that the Difference series?" James asked, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of him and peering over his lap at the book.

"That would be the one, yes." Remus tried not to let his irritation show.

Sirius noticed, always overly perceptive,

"Hey guys? Can I talk to Moons alone for a second?" He asked.

James shrugged, standing up and slinging his arm around Peter's shoulders,

"Sure thing, Pete and I have an exploding snaps rematch due any minute now." He smirked, dragging Peter up the stairs.

The silence that followed made Remus let out a quiet breath of relief.

"Was it the noise or just our presence?" Sirius asked after a long moment, he didn't look offended, only concerned.

Remus leaned his head back against the sofa, "Am I a terrible person if I say both?"

Sirius shook his head, "You have way too much to stress about in your life, you deserve a break to relax every now and then. You know we won't hold it against you."

"I do love you guys, I swear-" He started, the familiar guilt already weighing him down. Sirius placed a hand on his arm, stopping him,

"Remus, don't. We love you too, and we know how much you care about us. This isn't about that, it's about you getting rest."

His voice was stern, his gaze could have rivaled even McGonagall's.

"I'm sorry, I know." Remus whispered, "Thank you."

Sirius nodded and pulled his hand away, "Anytime, Moony. Really, I mean it."

Remus took a sip of his tea, which was starting to get cold. Sirius didn't have to ask, casting a warmth charm over it as Remus set it back down on the table.

"How do you always know what I'm thinking?" Remus asked, "It's like you can read my mind."

"You have very expressive eyes." Sirius answered, shrugging, "So I guess, in a way, I kind of can."

Remus smiled at him, nudging their shoulders together, "Thank you." He said again.

Sirius gestured towards the book,

"What part are you on?" He asked. Remus looked down,

"They're taking the vehicles back to Chicago." He replied, opening the book and turning it for him to see.

"Is a broomstick technically a vehicle?" Sirius asked, frowning in thought.

Remus gave a surprised laugh, "Um... well, yes. Any method of transportation is. But that only applies to our kind of broomsticks."

"So... with magic, isn't everything a vehicle?" Sirius asked, cocking his head to the side.

Remus always found it amusing when he looked like this, he truly was his animagious in every form.

"It would only be considered such after it as been given the ability to transport something, but yeah." Remus nodded, "I suppose you could say the same for adding wheels to things."

Sirius nodded, satisfied, "Will you read to me?" He asked quietly.

This surprised Remus, Sirius had never asked him that before. He nodded anyways, relaxing into the couch again and watching Sirius curl up into a ball, staring at him expectantly.

He read the first few paragraphs, glancing every other sentence at Sirius to see if he was still listening. He was.

After he'd gotten through two pages, he had to admit he was decently impressed.

"You never sit through lessons like this." Remus commented. Sirius shrugged,

"I like the way you talk." He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, "It's very relaxing."

Sirius' slow blinks and unguarded expression seemed out of place on him, he was usually so tense and ready for action.

Remus found he liked him like this, it was... sweet.

"Did you want me to continue reading?" Remus asked. Sirius nodded, adjusting himself so he leaned against Remus' shoulder, reading the page along with him,

"Yes, please." He mumbled sleepily.

Remus continued, no longer pausing to check if Sirius was paying attention.

After he'd gotten through the next few pages he was positive Sirius had fallen asleep. But then he spoke,

"Do you ever think about adoption?" He whispered. Remus looked down at him,

"Adoption?" He repeated.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah, I think it would be nice to adopt a kid."

"Why don't you want to have one yourself?" Remus asked, keeping his voice gentle so he wouldn't disturb this peace.

Sirius hummed and nuzzled closer to him, pressing his face to Remus' chest.

Remus didn't dare to breath, he waited without moving as Sirius' muffled reply came,

"I want to give someone another chance. I want to give them a better life."

Remus nodded. Carefully, slowly, he placed a hand on Sirius' back.

Sirius didn't shake him off, he only turned and wiggled closer until his head was resting in Remus' lap, curled up on his side.

Hesitantly, Remus ran a hand through Sirius' hair. He knew he shouldn't have, Sirius never let anyone touch his hair, but something in his mind told him it was the right thing to do.

And it was, Sirius let out a content sigh and closed his eyes again.

"It might be something to consider." Remus whispered, referring to their conversation. He gently combed through Sirius' hair with his fingers, amazed by how soft it was, even after they'd just gotten back from practice.

"Yeah, I mean-" He paused to yawn again, "What's the harm in it, right?"

Remus chuckled, "Well I think that phrase may have been spoiled for us now. There's usually some damage that follows it."

Sirius sighed, "Maybe. But a little more risk won't kill anyone."

Remus smiled, watching the way his expression softened and how his shoulders relaxed entirely,

"It's that kind of ideology that got us stuck in those problems in the first place." He reminded him, "But in this scenerio..."

He thought about a young child who'd been brought into the world and abandoned one way or another. He thought about giving that child a home, a new life as Sirius had put it.

"I think it's worth a little risk." He agreed.

And something about this, something about the way Sirius trusted him completely, let him touch where no would else was allowed, let him watch over him and dropped his guard when he never had before.

It made Remus feel something strange.

Sirius was... well, he was beautiful. There was never any question to that.

The way the light draped across him from the fireplace was an art of itself. Remus was- and he never thought he would describe himself as such- totally enamored.

"I think its worth it." Sirius mumbled, "I want to play songs for them and read them stories."

"You'll sing for them?" Remus asked, smiling fondly down at Sirius. He nodded,

"Yeah. When I was young my mother made me take piano lessons, and sometimes I would be taught to play the harp. So I think it would be nice if I could play for my kid someday."

"That's really nice, Sirius." Remus continued petting his hair. Eventually, Sirius turned again so he stared up at him, long black strands laid in a halo around his head,

"Can you keep reading to me?" Sirius asked quietly. Remus nodded,

"Yeah, of course." He picked up the book again, keeping his voice as soft as he could manage and starting where he left off.

Sirius fell asleep to the sound of Remus' voice and the feeling of his fingers in his hair.

Remus kept reading even after he'd fallen asleep. He was just so happy and content he didn't want it all to end.

When James and Peter came down to check on them some time later they walked out to this scene, to Remus' eyes filled with newfound love and adoration. To Sirius' smile in his sleep as he curled up in Remus' lap. The fireplace had long since died out, leaving the gentle cadence of Remus' voice to be the only sound in the room.

James and Peter took the hint, sneaking quietly back up the stairs to give them privacy, happy their friends had finally found each other.

Because they deserved it. They deserved the peace and lifetime of love they knew this relationship would bring.

On their way up the stairs, quick enough that you would miss it in a blink, James and Peter's hands exchanged a few sickles.

And never again did Sirius fall asleep to anything but the sound of Remus' voice, or the feeling of his hands combing through his hair. And that was perfectly fine by him.

[necrotic-nephilim]

this is an invitation to ramble about slade/batboy ships: sladick, sladejay, sladetim, sladedami, and other batfam member/villain ships, especially jayroman and ra'stim :)

AAAAAA this is so delightful oh my god thank you. adding a read more just because this one is going to get Long to cover all the ships and all my opinions. because my god do i love Slade.

firstly, the original Robin/villain ship, SlaDick. Slade Wilson, literally created to be a Teen Titans villains, with the original Robin he cannot be normal about ever. i'm so sad there's not much interest in Slade aside from making him a generic Evil Guy who canonically likes teenagers because i think to just boil down his complex with Dick to 'weird attraction' robs them of SUCH nuance. Slade *trusts* Dick, he trusts Dick enough to ask Dick to train his own daughter Rose. and initially Slade's complex over Dick isn't sexual, it's seeing Dick as a replacement for his dead son, Grant. that's messy as hell and i love them for it. i don't think there's a single villain that has the respect for Dick that Slade has. i'm always of the opinion Dick's attraction to Slade is rooted in daddy issues and Slade's attraction to Dick is rooted in dead son issues. do i think they could end up as an old married couple? yes but only in a world where Dick is completely broken and feels alone. my favorite SlaDick flavor is post-Jason's death. Dick and Bruce are arguably at their worst during that era to begin with so Dick is pretty isolated and emotionally unstable. and Slade would take such advantage of that, swooping in to offer Dick emotional stability and fucked up sex to get out pent up emotions. (i'm big a big fan of Dick fucking out his feelings tbh) and Slade is just. this sort of bad habit Dick will kick for a year or two then come crawling back to. you can directly track how well Bruce and Dick are getting along based on how many times Dick has slept with Slade recently. and that's the prize, for Slade. knowing Dick will come back to him, eventually. it's all about patience. and if something really extreme happened to Dick (like Bruce's fake death) i think they'd even date briefly. it's not entirely impossible for Dick to date someone he disagrees with morally (see: his flings with Helena) and i think Dick would keep trying to 'save' Slade, using the upper hand he has of filling in this role of Slade's dead son to try to domesticate him. would it work? who knows but if anyone is going to try over and over, it's going to be Dick. it's practically self-harm for Dick yet the only thing keeping him sane. i love them.

SladeJay is... an interesting one for me. because i like the *potential*. but they have no significant interactions pre-Flashpoint. and while usually i can forgive New-52 and Rebirth for their grievances if it has ship fodder i just... can't do that for Jason. Judd Winick's Jason is the only Jason that exists to me so even Slade and Jason's canon interactions matter little to me because it's not the version of Jason i care for. the upside of that though, is it's more of a sandbox to explore what they could be and there are no limitations. i can just run wild. which is fun bc. you're telling me Slade wouldn't be so drawn in by the idea of a dead Robin who's come back and is now the antithesis of Bruce's morality? i think at some point Slade would want to poke the bear, really see what Red Hood is made of. do i see them working long-term? no but i do think Jason would have zero qualms working with Slade if he got something out of it. and if he could fuck with Bruce or Dick by having a short, fucked up relationship with Slade? that's even better. i don't think Slade could ever truly respect Jason, at the end of the day the Dick Grayson standard is too high and Slade would sneer at the idea of a legacy who fucked it up so bad he got blown up. but, he'd see that as Bruce's failure more than Jason's. and for Jason to have someone look him in the eye and say that Bruce *failed* him? i think that'd just *do* something to Jason. and Slade has lost a son, he knows what that loss feels like, how you feel you failed as a father. would he have interest in being fatherly to Jason? no but i think he'd have fun momentarily manipulating Jason and seeing what reactions he gets out of what jeers. Jason's been calling himself a failure this whole time, so to have someone else say it is no real big deal, but to have someone else say it's Bruce's fault and voice Jason's feelings? they'd have the most fucked up sex with the most unhealthy dirty talk that's both gentle and degrading. i don't think Jason would ever let himself get too close, he's far too emotionally guarded. but for a second, i think he'd fantasize about having even *half* the amount of attention that Slade gives Dick. bc what has Jason always been, but in Dick's shadow.

SladeTim. my two blorbos. in one place. somewhere in my drafts i have a half-started longfic about SladeTim that's one half really fucked up porn and one half slowburn feelings. arguably Tim and Slade don't have many canon interactions, but it's fun to me that when they do, Slade always seems sort of startled by how well Tim fights back and Tim's willingness to fight dirty in a way even Dick doesn't. and to me, that's the crux of this ship. as far as Robins go, Tim should sort of slip under the radar for Slade. he's not the dead one turned villain, he's not the grandson of Ra's al Ghul, hell he's not even the child of a second-rate villain like Steph, he's not *the* Dick Grayson, he's just... the other one. grew up pretty rich and normal and fell for all of Bruce's wax poetic nonsense. so when Tim puts himself on the map as a hero, makes himself a worthy opponent against Slade that's interesting. even to Tim, Slade isn't a particularly remarkable villain since Slade cares to stay more on Dick's radar. so when they cross paths there's a lot of unexpected. neither of them have thought about the other too hard. so there's this interest and intrigue about it i love. i'm a big fan of the idea Tim is a massive masochist, both physically and emotionally and Slade is The Sadist Ever so. i like them falling into bed together and having the most fucked up sex. like Tim just being a Weird Little Freak so fucked up even Slade raises an eyebrow. because this isn't what you *expect* of a kid like Tim, who's had a pretty easy life before tangling with vigilantes. he should be like a fish out of water, but instead he's matching Slade's energy in ways even Dick doesn't. and of course, how smart he is, that's an asset. it takes a special kind of kid to have the audacity to poison Lady Shiva with hotel chocolates and pull it *off* no less. it earns a begrudging respect, and it's rare to get Slade to respect someone. i really like the idea of Tim seeking Slade out only for fucked up sex and somehow Slade falls for this weird little freak who's cold and clinical outside of sex and keeps him guessing.

i'll be honest i've only considered SladeDami in the context of seeing antis say 'omg Slade has been predatory toward Damian ewww' and going 'no the fuck he hasn't but if you want that so bad i'll ship it just to spite you all' but their canon interactions do fascinate me. a lot of how they interact is predicated on Slade as a father, even more so than SlaDick. like Slade will fight Damian and then be like 'hey be good to your old man fathers need their sons' and fucking dip. and then with the whole Respawn thing and Shadow War? that was extra crunchy. for a brief moment Slade had a son who was a brother to Damian and then he goes and *dies*? talk about the complex that would give him with Damian, the spitting image of Respawn. Make Slade Weird About Batkids That Remind Him of His Son 2024. Damian holds an utter contempt for Slade that is simply unmatched. so Slade not leaving that kid alone because of his weird issues, making sure that Bruce doesn't screw up with Damian the way he screwed up with Respawn is very fun. and Damian slowly building up a tolerance to Slade's annoying antics could be fun. Damian is, at his core, still just a kid who needs the approval of something father-shaped and he will Take What He Can Get. are they ever healthy or long lasting? no but i do think Damian would cling to Slade during his teen years for something incredibly fucked up and codependent until either Slade dumped him or he forced himself to get over it.

JayRoman. i will not lie love these two but i don't think i've read many Black Mask comics when he's not interacting with Jason. which is funny because my entire conception of Roman is him just getting humiliated by Jason and really what more is there to know about the man. Jason is so unserious in how he handles Roman and the best part is you can tell it's truly because he doesn't see Roman as a threat. Roman's just a pawn in the game of getting Bruce's attention and sure, Jason is aiming to kill Roman by the end of it, but he'll always have bigger fish to fry. and that's so *infuriating* for Roman. this new guy who's *clearly* a fucking teenager shows up, owns you so badly it shatters your empire, and then you only live bc he seems to have gotten bored of you. JayRoman is my particular favorite ship for the flavor of 'the sub in bed is in control of every other aspect of their relationship and their submission is a gift that can be revoked at any time' which we don't get enough. fucked up power dynamics always have the sub being the one lacking control. and whilst i enjoy when Roman is able to absolutely control and manipulate Jason through various means, i think in canon, it makes far more sense he's pathetic and begging Jason for even a *chance*. and Jason very specifically picking who he subs for based on someone who he could kill or destroy at the drop of the hat if he needed to is a very Jason thing to do. there will never be trust between these two. they will fuck nasty and Roman will be in love with Jason. but they are both carrying a gun during sex. the gun is probably involved during the sex.

Ra'sTim. my everything. Red Robin (2009) you will always be famous to me. what *don't* they have. forced proximity. enemies to lovers. forced partnership. one-sided obsession. ridiculously large age gap. deep unforgivable betrayal. i will never evacuate these two from my brain dear god. Ra's is another one of those villains who gets painted with one broad stroke of being cartoonishly evil with no exploration of his interesting nuance. making him nothing but a villain is boring. where is the Ra's who loves so deeply and fully and has to lose his loved ones over and over and will not let that happen to Tim. he wants to consume Tim in a 'cannibalism as a metaphor for love but also probably literal cannibalism' way. the amount of trust put in Ra's in order for Tim to be able to betray him as spectacularly as he did? that's glorious. Tim had full unfiltered access to Ra's' computers even when he was advised against trusting Tim so much. and then Tim wins against Ra's and willingly lets Ra's kill him. (obviously Dick saves him, but I'm of the opinion Tim was just committed to dying in that moment and he was Okay With That) 'i will betray you if it's the last thing i do' as an act of love. Tim is to Ra's what Dick is to Slade. you will never convince me Tim and Ra's didn't hatefuck at least once during RR (2009) with a questionable level of consent. i'm so serious i will never shut up about them. the way Tim talks about working with Ra's as if he's making a deal with the devil and Ra's talks about Tim like he's the precious, once in a life time thing, one of the only people worthy to produce an heir for Ra's. how's that not gay. what other ship involved one of them literally trying to have the other's baby to raise as an heir. Ra's would probably carry the baby himself if he could. memes aside they're just so. they're so it. i love when Tim is forced into a Situation where he has to work with Ra's and confronts the darker aspects of himself that Ra's wants to bring out but Tim wants to squash. it is The corruption kink. whether Ra's succeeds or not in corrupting Tim doesn't even matter because the real crux of this ship is the chase. it's the way the heart pounds when they reach out for each other and you don't know if it's for a kiss or a killing blow. it's very Hannigram to me, in that i don't even need or want them to kiss to know they're in love. love to them is not true love's kiss, it's the thoughtful place they decide to stab the other in. be the sheath to my dagger type ship. hold all this bloody violence i know you're capable of inside of you. let me cut the violence out of you ship. what more can you ask for from a ship. Ra's would tie Tim down and torture him both as foreplay and as a love language and Tim would be too fucked up and self-sacrificial to stop him. always playing the dangerous game of how far will the other let them go until someone tries to die or kill. listen i think i lost the plot here but my point is they're unwell about each other. Tim will make Ra's regret the day he met Tim Drake not just for the betrayal but because Ra's can never go back to a time Before Tim. before knowing what the chase felt like. they're so. them.

[hxhhasmysoul]

Did u see these posts: https://linkspooky.tumblr.com/post/744136721881530368/hello-friend-i-thought-id-use-your-post-as-a . https://linkspooky.tumblr.com/post/744086250489774080/so-i-was-genuinely-surprised-last-week-when-we ? Honestly, I think am starting to dislike the Megumi & Killua comparisons more than I ever maybe did the Killua & Gojo ones (like I also saw a comment saying Megumi is smarter than Killua, and I don't think Megumi is dumb, but like how?). I'm not saying Megumi is a bad character, but he is not (imo) better-written or have a better arc than Killua (who has one of the best arcs ever).

P.S: Off topic from me complaining about Killua getting compared to JJK characters (which I was mostly neutral towards doing, but now, I might be becoming a bit less neutral). Great and pretty Palm, LeoPika, and Illumi's art u just reblogged!

The biggest problem with what that person writes is the value judgement. I don’t necessarily disagree with the stuff they say about Megumi, at least they see that Gojou forced Megumi into being a sorcerer and that’s rare. They also seem to acknowledge Megumi’s character flaws, even if I don’t exactly agree with every argument they make about him. And I especially don’t agree with how they compare Tsumiki to Alluka. 

They are right that Megumi tries to use others, Tsumiki and then Yuuji as justifications for his existence. And it’s true Killua uses the people he loves as a crutch because he has no goals of his own, because all his life the goals of others were forced onto him and he’s really lost at the beginning of HxH. 

The difference is that Killua’s relationships with Gon, Alluka and Nanika are very deep, he also grows close with others: Ikalgo, Palm, Bisky and Leorio, there’s clear potential for him developing a friendship with Canary. Killua also projects to some extent onto Gon, and onto Alluka too. But that’s something everyone does. Killua does it to a normal extent, the Gon in Killua’s mind is partially imagined and greatly coloured by Killua’s crush, but Killua quite often actually understands how Gon feels, or accurately reads the situation between them. The things he tells Gon don’t make Gon worse because they feed into Gon’s issues.

He does enable Gon, and he doesn't know how to help Gon after Kite's death, but his presence still helps Gon in those moments. He doesn't make gon better but he doesn't make him worse either, they are just two kids who are in a situation that's just too much for them to handle.

When Killua tries to enforce what he thinks is best onto Alluka and Nanika, Alluka puts him in his fucking place and he very clearly understands what he did wrong. Because he’s capable of seeing Alluka as a real person, he can see past the image of Alluka that exists in his head. 

Megumi’s relationships with Tsumiki and Yuuji are superficial, bordering on parasocial. The things Megumi tells Yuuji make Yuuji contract Megumi’s cog mentality. Megumi acts like he knows shit, how he's very smart and Yuuji buys into that, because Megumi reads a lot and knows long words. And Megumi also buys into that, and thinks he can talk with authority about who's to blame for what. Or which people deserve to be saved.

Megumi barely spends time with Yuuji in an active way, he just passively tags along and frowns and sighs, and he downright rejects Tsumiki and everything she stood for when she was conscious. He’s upset that Yuuji lashes out at Hana because Yuuji is mourning Nobara so fucking deeply. Megumi is taken aback because he never mourned Nobara, he never tried to get close to her, but more importantly, despite him thinking he cares about Yuuji, he has absolutely no clue how Yuuji is feeling. He projects his own idea as to who Yuuji is onto Yuuji. Yuuji the good selfless person who needs to be protected by Megumi but not engaged with, not reached out to. He has no idea who Yuuji really is or how he feels, nor does Megumi care. He never cared what Tsumiki felt or who she really was, and the whole situation with the bridge showed very clearly that Tsumiki led a life of her own and Megumi didn’t even know, and likely it wasn’t a completely pure and uwu life. But to Megumi what matters are his own made up versions of these two people. 

And this is actually okay, these are flaws and they are a consistent characterisation. I don’t like Megumi much but I will defend his right to be flawed, I will defend him from all the Gojou fans who pretend Gojou didn’t make a child soldier out of a little kid. Or who pretend that it isn’t clear that Gojou left Tsumiki and Megumi to fend for themselves in their daily life and just borrowed Megumi to force him to work so the two kids had a place to live and other necessities. And I will defend Megumi from anyone who tries to deny him his right to a fucking mental breakdow.

But what they write about Killua is extremely shallow, the mentions of Gon and Yuuji, and the paragraph about Maki, those are downright upsetting. They show very clearly that they will write whatever needed to prop up their fav. And I really don’t get what drives people to do this kinda stuff.

They honestly undermine their arguments (some very solid) about how nice Megumi’s arc is, because they can’t just argue their case. No, they need to bring another character into it and attack that character. It’s always a foolish thing to do. I get that they might not like Killua as much or think he’s overrated. But Killua was not needed for their argument. Everything they get wrong about Killua weakens their arguments about Megumi. And Killua’s relationships with his close ones really highlight the issue with Megumi’s. And the person never addresses that. 

I think I’ve seen maybe their posts or similar posts about Megumi, not exactly comparing him to Killua, but for example posts about how he’s the true MC of JJK, where Megumi’s fans argued about how complex Megumi is and how there’s nothing to Yuuji. And this person’s posts are just written to prop up Megumi by dismissing and discrediting other characters. 

The JJK fandom is vicious to most characters that aren’t sexymen. Megumi is much more liked in the fandom than Yuuji, but yeah, one can consider him disliked if one compares him to how people are about Gojou, Getou, Nanami, Touji, Chousou, Higuruma, Sukuna or even Kusakane, Shu and Ino. Also as they rightly notice Megumi isn’t overpowered so he gets a lot of shit, something Yuuta never gets. As to Maki, this person clearly doesn’t give a shit about her, so not only they very clearly didn’t pay attention to Maki post Mai’s death, they also have no idea what the fandom says about Maki. 

They also write as if the way the fandom treats Megumi is unique, when Yuuji gets that far more and over everything. Even Sukuna got that just because in the battle of JJK sexymen, Gojou truly is the strongest and his fans are fucking rabid and allergic to canon and the text of JJK. 

Gege’s love for HxH somehow creates the need in the JJK fans to compare the two stories and their respective characters, and I’ve never seen it done right. In this case it really just cheapens what they were trying to say.

[boyfridged]

You may have already mentioned this in some of your other metas, and I just missed it, so please ignore this if it's redundant.

Do you think Bruce is projecting onto Jason by pushing him as a Robin? Obviously, Jason wanted to be Robin and was excited about it, and Bruce let Jason do other things, but (if I'm not mistaken) before Tim came into play, solidifying the whole Batman needs a Robin/support to keep him upright, Bruce and Dick becoming Batman and Robin, in the beginning, was also sort of a coping mechanism.

I think there are a few examples of Bruce enabling this kind of mindset. Like in Gotham Knights #43–44 (sorry), every time Barbara brings up Jason's inner turmoil, Bruce refocuses on his ability as a Robin; similarly, when Jason finds out about Two-Face and his dad, he is hurt, and Bruce acknowledges that but then does the same thing, zeroing in on reassuring Jason that he made a mistake but is still a good Robin.

Like, Jason got it from Bruce, but he unintentionally encouraged that kind of thinking.

oh, i definitely think that bruce is projecting on jason and that it profoundly affected jay. and, while every single one of your observations is apt, i would add that what truly made it so tragic is that he projected his own worst traits on jason while being blind to the fact that jay already shared his best qualities.

tldr: bruce projects himself on jason in terms of grief (saying that jason needs vigilantism to work his grief through) and sees his own worst traits in jason (anger) but doesn't see his own best traits in jay (compassion, love, and sensitivity). ironically, jason does end up developing all of the (projected) worst characteristics of bruce (obsessiveness, and relentlessness in pursuit of the respective perceived idea of justice). this happens even though they were barely present in his early storylines, and only ever manifested when jason was scared or lost. later, they truly came to be because of his trauma relating to vigilantism.

and the long, long version, coming with panels and quotes: under the cut.

first i want to say that the following analysis focuses very specifically on bruce's mistakes, but i don't view the overall of jay's upbringing by bruce solely in these terms. from text it is also clear that bruce deeply loves and cares about jay, and that jay enjoys being robin. now that this is clear, let's get to particularities, and start with jay's origin story.

i truly never stop thinking about the significance of bruce meeting jay in the crime alley, the place of his parents' death. there's a lot to be said about it, but here the focus is, of course, on the fact that he sees a little boy, very much similar to himself, angry and hurt, in the same scenery that brought him so much grief. and jay in some ways does appear to be a mirror of bruce's own agonies, as well as a mirror of his own inclination for seeking justice; and somehow, bruce fixates on the first one, while almost completely dismissing the latter.

bruce looks at him and assumes that the remedy to jason's pain and anger is being robin; and he doesn't stop to think about it. (it has to be noted that there's also classism at play, classism that is mostly a result of writers' own beliefs – collins did state in a couple of interviews that that the motivation behind jason's background was to make his introduction into vigilantism seem less offensive, as jason has already been exposed to crime...)

i think, in this context, it's interesting to look at the two-face storyline even closer, and from the start too. in the beginning, bruce talks of jason's 'street' roots and assumes jay would go "down the same criminal road that took his father [willis] to an early death." he also talks of jason making a lot of progress. later, in batman #411, after jason learns that willis has been killed by two-face, bruce comments that jay "has never been like this...listless...almost pouting--"

this all, along with jay's cheerful and diligent behaviour from the previous issue builds an interesting picture for us: because we essentially learn that jay has been overall an unproblematic child. bruce, of course, attributes this "progress" to the training. however, for anyone else, the logical conclusion would be that jay's quick adjustment was simply a matter of finding himself in a safe and stable environment and receiving continuous support and attention from a parental figure. i find it rather questionable that jason's personality softened down because he had something to punch in the cave–– the more intuitive explanation is of course that he was angry and quick to fight when they first met because he couldn't afford anything else and because he was scared. but months later, in a loving home, he can allow himself to drop his guard; and his cocky attitude disappears until much later.

so the rather unsettling picture that we derive is that bruce is training jay to become a vigilante in order to "channel" his (nonvisible at this point) anger into something useful and just. and he clearly links this to his own trauma in batman #416 (that’s already starlin btw), in his conversation with dick, explaining why he took jay in: “he’s so full of anger and frustration… he reminds me of myself, just after my parents were killed.” bruce also mentions that soon after their first meeting, jason helped him and "handled himself well" in the fight, but he doesn't mention that jay has ran away from a crime "school" and intended to stop injustice on his own only because he was ignored.

the theme of bruce comparing jay to himself appears again in detective comics #574 (barr), where it is approached with a much more... critical look, thanks to leslie's presence and her skepticism of bruce's actions. after jason has suffered nearly fatal injuries at the hand of the mad hatter, bruce reminisces on his own trauma and motives. he tells leslie: "i didn't choose jason for my work. he was chosen by it...as i was chosen." leslie replies: "stop that! (...) you do this for yourself... you're still that little boy (...)" then, the conversation steers to the familiar ground and the topic of anger. in bruce's words, again: “i wanted to give jason an outlet for his rage…wanted him to expunge his anger and get on with his life…” and finishes "and instead, i may have killed him."

the recognition that bruce's projection on jason and involving him with his work might have fatal consequences is, as always, fast forgotten once jay wakes up and proclaims that he wants to continue his work as robin.

but to circle back, i think there's something else worth our attention, something deeply ironic, that is showcased in that issue: that bruce has no evidence for jay's "rage." when leslie talks of bruce's past, she recalls his tendencies to get into brutal fights at perceived injustice as early as in school; when bruce talks of jason, two pictures that are juxtaposed, are that of jason fighting as robin and jason... smiling, playing baseball.

so, in the early days of jason's training and work in the field, we see bruce talking of jason's anger a lot; but we barely see it.

that being said, jay is angry sometimes– and i think your observation about how bruce deals with it is incredibly interesting and accurate.

we first see jay truly and devastatingly angry in the two-face storyline. bruce focuses on jay's reaction as robin, which is, in fact, aggressive. but something that he barely addresses is that jason's first reaction is sleeping all day, and not beating anyone to a pulp; in fact, this vengeful instinct seems to arise only when he is put right in front of two-face. and his third instinct, once the rage (very quickly) dies down after the altercation with two-face, is crying, because bruce hid the truth about willis' death from him. jay, while crying, asks bruce: "you have taken me out into combat-- but you spare me this?" in response, bruce lectures jason about how grief inspires revenge, which is, again, deeply ironic, given that jay seeking out revenge seemed to be prompted and enabled solely by the role of robin. moreover, his question suggests that at this point he saw grief ("you spare me this") and fighting as two different things.

the final is, as you said, bruce focusing on making it into a lesson on vigilantism, or, in his own words, "tempering revenge into justice." personally, i think in this way bruce directs jason to bring his grief into the field as a powering force, something that he didn't necessarily have an own incentive to do. the flash of compartmentalisation between his ordinary life and being a sidekick that jay has shown by questioning bruce's decision is lost. emotions are now a robin thing, and they have an (informal) protocol, a moral code. and when jay is confronted with an emotionally exhausting case next – the garzonas case, i believe that the focus on "tempering revenge into justice" is exactly the problem– we don't see jay crying, we see him frantic about finding the solution. this, right there, is bruce's obsessiveness, that in my opinion, was developed in jay specifically as a result of how his engagement with vigilantism combines with his deep sensitivity.

and, needless to say, his sensitivity is all the same as that of bruce – they both can't stand looking at other people hurting, they both wear their hearts on their sleeve, caring way too much – the thing is, bruce never quite acknowledges how they are similar in this matter. instead, he focuses on his sparse bursts of anger, wanting to bring jason closure in his grief the only way he knows it – in a fight for a better world. so, as you said, he focuses on jason's ability as robin.

which just doesn't work for jason. at all. we know it from how his robin run comes to an end: in the first issue of a death in the family (batman #426) alfred informs: “i’ve come upon him, several times, looking at that battered old photograph of his mother and father, crying.”  to that, bruce contends: “in other words, i may have started jason as robin before he had a chance to come to grips with his parents deaths.” he also tells jay that the field is not a place for someone who is hurting; a message that is the opposite of what he's been saying for years now, and something that i imagine was difficult for bruce to conceptualise, because then he would have to question his own unhealthy tendencies. it's a bit late to come to this realisation; bruce's self-projection that caused him to worry so much about jay's anger has already turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy that will fully manifest itself in utrh, when jason does the only thing he was taught to do with grief: try to channel it into justice.

[marimayscarlett]

Quick question, have we figured out why Richard is so damn ATTRACTIVE??? Like he was so fine during the Mutter and MiG Era but he's even better now??? Sir I have questions!!!! What is it about you that's so addictive??? And that belly??? A MASTERPIECE!!!! He needs to pay for my rehab I'm dying over him at this point lmao

Hi hello how did you get into my head and write down exactly what I think about daily?? Because I'm still so fascinated regarding how he changed over the years, while remaining so enticing and attractive, always reinventing himself a bit, experimenting with different looks and styles while maintaining his overall vibe and aesthetic 😌 This of course includes his physique and wonderful chunkiness, but I'll shamelessly use this ask to venture out in earlier decades, to appreciate this man in all his glory 😩 (I hope that's alright with you)

Let's take a tiny look at Mr. Richard Z. Kruspe over the years, just to process this delicious evolution of his:

Very early on we had a lean Richard with the dreads, for some a no-go, for others quite a charming look (i know exactly i'm not the only one who's down for dreadlock Richard 👀), picture from ca. 1993:

In the beginning of Rammstein, we have some brown and blond haired, somewhat muscly Richard (ca. 1995/1996):

Then of course the ethereal look of Live aus Berlin (recorded in 1998) and his general style during the Sehnsucht era (Viva interview from 1997):

Moving on to the Mutter era, the first time his iconic spiky black hair was introduced to the world (picture from 2001 in Tallinn, gif from 2001 at the Velodrom Berlin):

He maintained a similar style and physique (very much toned and gym-trained I guess) or a while, for example during Völkerball (recorded in 2005):

or in various music videos, such as "Mein Teil" (2004) and "Benzin" (2005, albeit with some very much 2000s eyebrows):

In 2009 while LIFAD was released and during the LIFAD tour, he shortly ventured into another hair style (I won't comment, it was.. something, picture of 2009), then again back to the spiky style and tried out the mohawk (picture from 2012 I think), while parts of his typical stage outfit were born plus he's rather muscly here too:

During the festival tour 2016/2017 you can slowly see him becoming a bit broader/meatier in his physique, which I find just absolutely wonderful, plus some combacks like his spiky hair (gifs from an interview in 2018):

And slowly but surely we arrive in the current time and Richard's current style and physique: vampire coat, chicken coat, meaty and chunky Richard in all his glory:

All in all I have to say: It's so interesting to see how he changed and still stayed true to himself and his aesthetic, to his enthusiastic and genuine self while continously trying out new styles. And this includes his physique!! His appearance of course changed over the span of 30 years, that's aging for you. Of course he put on some weight - but that doesn't negate the fact that someone can be unbelievably attractive. And yes, I wholeheartedly agree, his belly now is a master piece, forged by the heavens, a gift from god, just perfection 💖

[ask-ttte-dragons]

to Edward, sit down the cushion and we will carry you inside the palanquin with parted curtains and poles

Edward: *Curious and maybe slightly suspicious. Is this one of Bill and Ben's tricks? Better play it safe.* Oh my. Well, I certainly appreciate for the offer. But I'm quite happy right here, thank you.

[psychologicalwarclaire]

IM HERE!!! Here’s my fab art!! Hope you like it!!

(No one steal pls I worked hard on it :’)

NOTHING can describe how much I ADORE these, okay?! They're just so perfect!!

The spider brooches are so cool, Viper is terrifying (as she should be!), Donnie. Ohmigosh Donnie. aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA like, okay, when I wrote the scene it was painful enough for me to do, but to see it happen; to see the fist that looks so much like Raph's actually collide with Donnie's beautiful mind... man that HURTS. Don't even get me started on Leo. His EYES. His TERRIFIED, HORRIFIED EYES. And the blood is so well done, splattered perfectly, absolutely haunting. I'm also a huge fan of traditional art, so impressive job for getting such bright colors to come through! Fantastic background, as well!

Seriously, thank you so much! I adore any and all Spider's Web art!

[intheorangebedroom]

What kind of kinks do we think Frankie has? 🤔

Hey Nonnie! Again, I'm glad you asked!

But first thing first: 

🧡HAPPY ❤️‍🔥FRANKIE❤️‍🔥 FRIDAY🧡

@frannyzooey and I actually discuss this on a regular basis, and if you haven't yet, you should run over to her blog and read her entire Frankie masterlist (especially Taste, very relevant in this context). Because it’s all there, and it’s so much better than anything I could ever dream of achieving. 

This said, please do stay here a little longer 😬

Explicit thoughts below the cut 🔞

​I know it’s a general fandom consensus that Frankie is an avid and thorough pussy eater, and yes, I’m sure he is. But’s there is so much more to him.

Frankie’s a confident man. Quietly so, but definitely assertive. 

Discreet, calm, collected, he can be commanding, even threatening when he needs to. 

Possessive, but not jealous, he strives above all to protect, provide and care for you. Because this man loves you with everything he’s got, and because Frankie’s ultimate kink is… you. 

Anything and everything, from the fire in your eyes when you discuss something you’re passionate about, to the needy tuck of your body into his side when you get mean Sunday scaries. From the scent of your hair lingering on his pillow to the tangy taste of your skin at the end of the day. From your out-of-tune singing when a song you love comes up on the truck's radio, to the low thrumming and soft quiver of your pulse between his lips.

He loves you self-confident or vulnerable. He loves you standing tall or feeling small.

So I think what truly gets Frankie off, more than anything, is when his love has fostered enough sense of safety in you that you'll ask him for what it is that you truly want. Or better yet, when you take it from him. 

When you want it slow, silent and breathy, locked eyes and a press of your sweat-damp foreheads, calloused hands surprisingly soft in their span of your skin. 

When you want to be crushed underneath him and have him set the pace. 

When you need it rough, relentless, unforgiving. When you want him to curl his thick fingers around your nape and sink your mouth down on his hard length. When you want him to lick the makeup-stained tears off your cheekbone. When you need his grip on the swell of your ass to turn painful. When you want his teeth on your neck, his spit in your mouth, his come on your face.

When you ride his face without shame with a sharp tug of his hair until he bands his arms around your thighs hard enough to bruise. 

When you straddle him, your gorgeous tits bouncing in your frantic sway over him, for a while, at least, before he cups them to knead and pinch, when you writhe and whine because “it’s too much.” 

Just like Frankie knows his worth, he knows his size. And that too is a kink, it’s all about what it can do to you, for you.

He likes to thicken between your fingers, your eyes growing wide because you’re not sure, even after all this time, if you’ll be able to take it. 

Loves to rub his cock onto your stomach to show you just how deep he’s gonna reach. 

Loves to inch into you slowly and see sweat beading over your pinched brow with the effort, loves the sound of your tight cunt parting around him, he knows how it tastes too, eyes strained on your entrance catching along the girth of him, the music of your strained moans, loves to talk you through it, alright baby, come on now, you know you can take it.

When you’re burning with want and with need, when you’re pliant under his hands or rigid around his hips, chasing your release, sweat and slick and sticky, when you’re liquid inside, a rope pulled taut between your core and your heart that rips your inside out, when you’re blooming in shades of orange, when you plant your hands on his chest and demand "Make me come Francisco," that's his greatest kink.

[fiona-fififi]

Make me write game 💕💕💕

☺️

💕 Post vow renewal

Okay, so technically this is well over 9 sentences, but I do believe I only actually added about 12 (maybe a little more). Several parts of this section were already written, but I added in multiple spots to link pieces together and flesh out the scene, so I figured I'd offer the whole thing. I have not proofread it, though, so please forgive any awkwardness or typos because I'm sure there are plenty.

And then Buck's reaching, but Eddie's pulling away, shifting himself up and off of Buck's body, off of the bed, and Buck feels himself panic, a quiet plea of Eddie's name pulled from his lungs before he can stop it. But Eddie's there, still so close as his careful fingers strip away the last of Buck's own clothes, discarding them in some haphazard pile beside the bed as he murmurs gentle reassurances that have Buck sinking back into the mattress beneath him as Eddie works. 

When Eddie finally, finally manages to strip them both down, Buck is lost, all thought swept away at the sight of Eddie bare before him. Before Eddie can find his way back, Buck is reaching for him, gentle fingers tracing soft skin that stretches over hard muscle, dipping into the divots of Eddie's abs before tickling back over his hips as Eddie crawls back up over him. Buck sighs into the feel of Eddie's lips trailing kisses back up to his mouth, whines softly at the feel of Eddie's skin against his own as Eddie blankets him once more, not a breath of space left between them once Eddie settles back in above him, petting gently through Buck's hair as he presses delicate kisses over the sensitive skin of Buck's face. For long moments, Buck lets Eddie play, gives him all the access he needs to explore, but when Eddie's mouth tickles over a particularly sensitive spot beneath Buck's eyelids, he can't help the way a quiet giggle bubbles out of him. It should be embarrassing—should leave him shying away—but he's not, can only smile bright and content, as Eddie shifts back just the tiniest bit, just enough to let his eyes trail over Buck's happy features, and then Eddie's smiling, too, and chuckling just a little, those eyes full of all that soft, hazy brightness Buck had never quite learned to read until this moment, and Buck is absolutely giddy with it when Eddie finally whispers "you're beautiful, sweetheart.”

There's so much behind it—Eddie's words so full of the delicate devotion he's shown Buck from their very beginning, and Buck can't quite help the way his smile turned to a quiet gasp that escapes him at the awe in Eddie's voice. Finds himself reaching up, tracing careful fingers over the frame of Eddie's face, letting his touch come to rest at the cut of his jaw. And then Buck's urging him closer with those gentle fingers, guiding Eddie in for a soft press of a kiss that doesn't go further, but lingers, the both of them breathing the same air for long moments after they part, and Buck lets his gaze wander over every delicate feature his eyes can reach.

When he meets Eddie's eyes, he feels flayed open—like Eddie can see every complicated part of him he tries his best to hide. “Make love to me,” Buck pleads, whisper quiet, and for a moment he feels silly and cliché. But Eddie's eyes only soften, a sweet adoration Buck knows well suddenly settling into a whole new context he'd once expected he could never have.

Eddie doesn't answer, really, not in words, but his eyes study Buck's features like he’s something precious, and he presses his body closer than Buck think should be possible, leaving every inch of Buck singing with a sweet pleasure unlike anything he's ever felt before because it's Eddie, and he thinks maybe Eddie's touch is everything he's been searching for.

Eddie dips in to kiss him, then. A sweet, searing kiss that's over too soon and has Buck whimpering as Eddie shifts to mouth at the curve of his neck. Buck hopes he might leave traces there, marks Buck might get to keep even after he leaves Eddie's bed.

“I'll give you anything you want, Buck,” Eddie promises, then. Whispered words he hides in the crook of Buck's neck that leave Buck gasping and clinging tighter. “Anything at all.”

"Eddie," Buck whines, and it's desperate. A sweet, delicate, broken sound that trips over his tongue and catches in his throat that has Eddie smiling against the curve of Buck's neck, and Buck whines again as his breath hitches. "Eddie, I want you. Please. Tell me-tell me you want me, too."

"Sweetheart," Eddie presses into Buck's skin, lets his lips form gentle, reassuring kisses that linger as he pulls back, just far enough to catch Buck's eye, lets the fingers of one hand stroke through Buck's hair and then trace delicately over the birthmark at his brow, as he studies Buck's face, "of course I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

For a moment, Buck's quiet, trying his best to blink away the overwhelming emotion that settles over him at Eddie's words. But then he's reaching, sinking his own fingers back into Eddie's hair, hand cradling his neck. Then, near breathless, “How do you want me?”

“Forever.”

Make Me Write

[hime-bee]

Hello I hope I'm not bothering you with this question but how would leumin react to a player who's a yandere but not for him like the player is obsessed with someone else like I think this would a interesting but messy situation tbh like especially if the player is also not afraid to get violent or go to drastic measures to protect the object of their affection leuming my guy better watch out unless he wants to incur their wrath

You're not bothering me at all, I appreciate all asks I get about my characters! ^^ Now, to answer your ask: For starters, Leu doesn't become a yandere immediately, it takes him some time to fall for MC and to get to the point of obsession. He will, of course, stalk and watch them at first, but if he saw that they were already obsessed with someone else, then he'd stop pursuing them romantically. Friendship isn't out of the question, though, since it'd be a 🤝 situation LOL. Leu isn't a homewrecker, he's not gonna force himself into MC's heart if it already belongs to someone else!

[ask-that-weird-dog]

Kris. Kris. Kris. Of the two, do you prefer moss or potassium more?

* (You get the feeling this is about to be a very, very weird day.)

<< PREVIOUS || MASTERPOST ||

[cuubism]

Actually, what about death and Hob finally meeting and sharing embarrassing stories about Dream?

I LOVE Hob meeting Death and being friends with Death. I'm pondering embarrassing stories about Dream, though... because I feel like Dream is actually a very easy person to hurt. Not in all cases; if someone he doesn't respect or who's a particular opponent of his criticizes or insults him he's just like "okay, whatever." Lucifer was like "you're powerless here" and kept ragging on him and Dream was just like "okay if you think so. you're wrong though <3" so he's not always fragile, he's generally pretty assured in his capabilities as Dream except in certain cases like failing to stop the first Dream vortex, 'letting' the Dreaming decay while he was imprisoned and what not.

I'm not sure it would be the same with people he loves and trusts. Hob even calling him lonely sent him running, which wasn't intended to be insulting but probably felt that way to Dream. So I'm not sure Dream would tolerate being made fun of very well, even if it was done fondly; I think it would probably sting more than anything. I honestly didn't even love the way Death poked at him in ep 6 (and I love Death) especially after he had just been through hell. Dream is very proud and under that kind of fragile when it comes to his core self, and this would all probably just hurt more than anything.

Funnily, I think Hob is the opposite -- he can take ribbing from anyone and just laugh it off. The ONLY person I think it would hurt from, actually, is Dream himself.

[keyh0use]

We know how well Barry comforts Rafe, but I’m curious if you have written about Rafe comforting him (or trying to, anyways) when Barry cries either openly in front of him or when he thinks Rafe can’t hear/see him? Can’t help but wonder how he’d deal with it

Have I written published pieces about this? Probably...you don't read my stuff and I write too much to even remember what happened in the previous chapter of whatever I'm currently working on, so really your guess is as good as mine. Unfortunately I can never settle on a proper hc for how Barry was brought up; big, loving family who lend support and thrive off physical affection or a broken, abusive one. Which plays a big part in how I think this scenario would go. Regardless, I do make him very emotional because I feel he is underneath all the sarcastic comments, and that his chill persona is only 50% real. But he masks well after so much practice, either from his upbringing or the army or drug dealing.

Rafe doesn't care about some stranger whining about a breakup in the country club bathroom or one of Rose's snobby friends sobbing in the pool house after one too many margs BUT he's not unfeeling or clueless when it comes to those he cares about. I've written and hc that Rafe was responsible for his sisters a lot of the time growing up, mainly Wheezie, because Ward was very untrusting when it came to who he let around his children unsupervised. (In case they revealed something, embarrassed the family name, got a reputation for not looking after his own kids, etc.) So Rafe is a pro at making a slow, calm approach followed by easy questions, picking away at the tension until whoever is ready to let it all out. He'll side-hug and shush softly and then provide solutions, because solving the problem is how he would show he cares.

At least that's what worked with Wheezie when her ant farm smashed on the driveway after show-and-tell (Rafe helped her order a new starting kit and cleaned up the broken glass and dirt) or when Sarah had a project due the next morning she forgot about. (He knew where the key to his father's office was and broke in to raid the supplies closet, then spread out on his sisters bedroom floor to help her glue information cards to Bristol board)

But would Barry appreciate Rafe trying to step in and tell him what he should do? I doubt it. Chances are Barry already knows what needs to happen and is just frustrated and overwhelmed. In the early days he could lash out, act angry in place of hurt and it would be convincing. He would tell Rafe to leave him alone, or he'd rush outside with the excuse to smoke or take a call and hide around back. If Barry cries, there's a chance Rafe would be able to tell, so he practices breathing to calm himself down like he's taught himself to do when he was hiding away in his childhood bedroom or surrounded by dozens of other men in the barracks. (I mean think of when the pogues robbed him. Was his first instinct to hunt down Rafe at the country club and subtly ask for help? Yeah. Is it likely he went home and kicked the now empty bag his stolen money was stuffed in before collapsing on the bed to shed a few tears? Also, yeah. I hc that Barry sends all his spare cash home but even if that's not the case, there goes his car payments and rent/mortgage, and rainy day fund and any potential trip to the emergency room.)

So...I don't know that this would happen before there's something serious between them, because I think Barry would go to great lengths to avoid any potential slip-up with big feelings, besides anger, since men don't tend to think that's an emotion. (And this isn't just about crying, either. He'd fall for Rafe hard and keep his mouth shut, suffer through months of lingering touches and longing stares because like hell is he showing his belly first) I mean I could write it, but I don't think it would be very interesting..

Alright, so they're dating or whatever, and Rafe comes back to a silent trailer. Barry's definitely off work and his truck (or whatever vehicle you want buddy to have) is parked in the usual spot in the makeshift driveway. Fishing poles are by the front door right where they were left last night, worn-out wallet is on the scuffed-up kitchen table, dirty boots are left by the couch. Rafe would creep down the hallway and peek into the cramped bedroom to find Barry on the edge of the bed, face in his hands and shoulders shaking. It wouldn't be loud and whiny and dramatic, frankly, like Rafe cries but it's unmistakable what the older man is doing.

And it would naturally freak Rafe the fuck out because it's such a foreign sight. Rafe would tell himself to approach the older man as if he's dealing with Sarah or Wheezie but abandon that the moment he hears a sniffle, rush in and kneel and try to get Barry to look at him, talk to him, give him one single hint about what's wrong. And Barry would be so embarrassed even though he's been on the other side of this interaction a million times before, tears are dripping off his jaw and his face feels so hot and Rafe is bombarding him with questions. What happened? Did I do something? Is it your mom? Barry, what happened? Are you mad at me? Did I do something? (He's insecure, of course he is, and is so used to being the problem so Barry can't blame him for worrying) And Barry would shake his head but wouldn't answer. So Rafe would lay him back, hold him and it's strange for both of them. Rafe would untangle unruly curls with slender fingers and chew on the nails of others, trying to keep from prying and upsetting the dealer any more. Barry would feel so, so embarrassed; open his mouth and close it, contemplate shrugging the whole thing off and pretending everything is fine. Then something small would make him cave like Rafe wrapping him up in an awkward hug (that's crushing, despite the odd position they're in) or kissing his head, and then he would have to let it all out.

Or, better, Barry would know he's safe with Rafe and seek his boy out when upset. This feeling inside him has been building and building until it reaches a dangerous crest and if he doesn't get it out, he'll probably lose it. So he waits with wet eyes for Rafe to show up, long legs barely over the threshold when Barry knocks into him. Yeah, it's the first time Barry has cried in front of Rafe and so what, the kook is relieved and grateful he's being trusted. (Even if his heart was beating erratically when he felt the collar of his (pink) shirt dampen) In either scenario, or any scenario the older man is crying really, I'm sure Barry would be plagued with doubt about the whole thing. Since the very beginning of their relationship, they fell naturally into certain roles...would Rafe think of him as less of a man now? Would Rafe stop crying to him? Would Rafe treat him like he's fragile? Was Rafe laughing with his little kook friends behind Barry's back? No, of course not. All his worries are settled when Rafe doesn't look at him differently afterwards. Once Barry's tears have been wiped away, his kook is being just as bratty and arrogant as usual, expecting Barry to act as a guard dog (when Rafe is quite literally so fucking capable of handling himself, not that Barry's ever complaining) and carry in all the groceries and let Rafe be passenger princess and toss him around in bed, not even bringing up what happened earlier that day.