#No and it’s never occured to me to do so????

[hcneymooners]

⋆ woman of my dreams, don't betray me.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you and ambessa are wives, and your parents have come to visit the two of you. everything will be fine, or would've been if you mother hadn't brought up her desire for grandchildren.

cw: angst, angst with a happy ending, wife!ambessa, wife!reader, age difference, older woman/younger woman, sfw but suggestive content, emotional hurt/comfort, you're a little bit of a crybaby, anxiety attacks, discussions of children and pregnancy.

notes: i hate this so much, but ce la vie hmm? this is a drabble.

“Sweet girl, don't bite your nails. You'll be so upset later.”

“You'll just give me the money to get them done,” you mutter. 

Still, your hands lower from your mouth to tremble yet again over the dinner you've painstakingly made.

Ambessa moves behind you, her presence steady and warm against your back. Her hands settle on your shoulders, thumbs working small circles into the knots that have been building there all day. You lean into her touch despite yourself, despite the anxiety that makes you want to vibrate out of your skin.

“Will this occur before or after you protest against me giving you too much?”

A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and you turn to slide your arms around her neck. You take in the strong line of her jaw, the crooked set of her lips with it’s thin stripe of golden jewlery in the middle. You thumb at it, face flushing slightly as she nips at the tip of your finger.

“My nails have yet to cost five hundred dollars, Bessa.”

“I include the tip.”

“I must be incredibly generous.”

“You are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Besides, you never think of tax.”

“Tax?” You say in disbelief. “What tax would they be adding that costs that much? Honestly, Bessa.”

“You never know,” she says with a slow smile. “They could swindle you very easily. You have such a trusting nature.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell her, cupping her face.

"Talk to me," she says, and her voice carries that gentle authority that first drew you to her. You turn away, your attempts at misleading her thwarted. "Is it your mother again?”

You stiffen under her hands. "Among other things." The roast in front of you blurs slightly. 

You can picture her expression without turning around - that careful neutrality she wears when she's processing something that angers her. It's the same look she gets in meetings when someone has said something particularly stupid.

"And what did you say to her?"

"Nothing. I deleted it. I’ve never been any good at convincing her to leave me alone." You pull away from her hands to adjust a perfectly arranged plate for the third time. "It's easier than explaining. Than having the same argument over and over about how I'll change my mind, how I just haven't met the right person yet." You pause, throat tight. "As if you're not..."

"As if I'm not what?" There's an edge to her voice now, not angry but intent. When you don't answer, she gently turns you to face her. "Look at me, little dove."

You do, though it hurts. She's beautiful in the warm kitchen light, silver hair gleaming, dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that still makes your heart skip even after all this time. You see the question in them and can't bear to answer it.

"The table still needs-"

"The table is perfect. You're being avoidant."

A laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical. "Isn't that what I do best?"

"No." Her hand cups your cheek. You can smell her: blonde wood, vetiver, pink pepper, dry vanilla. "What you do best is love fiercely and completely. And we agreed that that meant being honest with one another.”

She titls your head up, presses a thumb against your pulse. The action makes you almost confess the words that crowd your throat, threatening to spill out:

I'm terrified you'll realize I can't give you the family you deserve. That one day you'll look at me and see all the things I'm not, all the things I can't be. That you'll regret choosing someone so much younger, so much less certain of their place in the world. That my mother is right and I'm being selfish, denying you something fundamental.

But before you can voice any of it, the doorbell rings. Your whole body goes rigid. Your hands come to your sides and you’re back to shaking, neck burning with sudden stress. 

“I’ll get the door,” you say.

Your voice is rasping, as if you’ve swallowed down endless snakes of smoke.

‧₊˚ ⋅  𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 

Dinner is excruciating. Your mother talks about your cousin's new baby, about how wonderful motherhood looks on her, about how she's "simply glowing." You push food around your plate and feel Ambessa's concerned glances, even as she masterfully deflects conversation toward politics, toward her work, toward anything else.

But with each deflection, you can feel her growing more tense beside you - the way she sets her wine glass down with just a fraction more force, how her knife scrapes against the china with military precision.

"But really," your mother says, wine glass tilting dangerously in her hand, "I just don't understand why you two haven't started trying yet. Ambessa, dear, you must want more children? And you're not getting any younger-"

The fork clatters from your hand. "Mother."

You can feel your body pulsing with that sick warmth that comes with the rush of tears. You’re boring a hole through the dining room table with your gaze, eyes growing large and wet. If you were a lamb, you’d be bleating except your mother is the wolf so who will be the one to save you? 

Beside you, Ambessa goes perfectly, terrifyingly still. The kind of stillness that precedes a storm, that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. You can see her hand flat against the table, the metal of her rings catching the light, and you know without looking that her face has taken on that marble-smooth expression that makes junior officers quake in their boots.

"I'm only giving you something to think about, my love. I’ve been you before. You think you have so much time, you know? It’s just—you've always been so good with kids, sweetheart. Remember how you used to babysit for the Hendersons? And Ambessa's children turned out so well-"

"Stop." Your voice comes out strangled. "Please."

Ambessa's hand sneaks under the table to grasp your thigh. The touch is slightly grounding but you can feel the tremor in her fingers - not from fear, but from restraint. You know she wants you to look at her, but then you'll really begin to lose it.

You'll spill over, right into her lap, because she always could unlatch your body in ways you thought were only for other people.

You catch the slight movement of her jaw, the way she swallows whatever cutting remark she wants to make. Because this is your mother, and Ambessa—for all her power, all her authority, because of the love—is letting you handle this your way. But the tension in her body screams of fury, of a woman forced to watch her beloved take wounds she can't deflect.

"I don't see why you're being so sensitive about this. It's a natural progression-"

"Natural?" You're standing now, though you don't remember deciding to. "Natural is me not wanting to vomit every time someone mentions me being pregnant. Natural is not having a panic attack every time you send me another fertility clinic link or baby clothes or-" Your voice breaks. "I can't. I can't do this."

You flee, ignoring your mother's startled "Well!" and your father's awkward attempt to change the subject. You're halfway up the stairs before the tears start properly, and by the time you reach your bedroom, you can barely see. The door locks behind you with a satisfying click.

You stumble to the vanity, clutch blindingly at your hair to yank out the pins. You feel out of control, your hands sliding up your neck and over your face.

A sob slips out despite you clutching your fingers over your mouth, and you press at your stomach until you feel the urge to dispel the mixture of your decayed dinner and acid that sits within it.

The bed. You need to be under the bed. It's childish and ridiculous but it's where you used to hide when things got too much, and right now everything is too much. You curl up in the darkness there, pressed against the wall, and try to remember how to breathe.

Time passes. You hear murmured voices downstairs, the front door opening and closing. Footsteps on the stairs - Ambessa's, you'd know them anywhere.

"Little dove?" A gentle knock. "Let me in?"

"It's unlocked," you manage, voice thick.

The door opens. A pause.

"Are you under the bed?"

"...yeah."

Another pause. Then, to your utter astonishment, you hear grunting and turn to find Ambessa - your tall, dignified, warrior-queen wife - attempting to squeeze herself under the bed frame.

"What are you doing?" you ask, hiccuping between tears and startled laughter.

"Coming to get you," she says, voice strained as she wriggles forward. "Though I'm beginning to think this bed was not built for someone of my size."

"You're going to get stuck."

"Then we'll be stuck together." She finally manages to get next to you, though she has to lie completely flat to fit. "Hello, sweet girl."

A rush of gratitude floods you and you press forward, drawing her into a soft kiss. She deepens it, sliding a large hand underneath your thigh and holding you to her. You part with a soft, slick noise. 

“You’re always meeting me where I am, even when you don’t understand,” you tell her. “Literally.” 

You gesture weakly at the whole predicament. The absurdity of it - Ambessa Medarda, covered in dust bunnies, cramped under a bed - breaks something in you. 

"I have this terrible secret inside me, and it’s that I feel so—so sick when I think about being a mother," you blurt out. The words slide out of you, like maggots from a rotting body. "Not—not your children, I love them, but being one myself. Having them. I can't. I won't. And I know you must want- but I can't, I just can't, please don't leave me.” You begin to sob again. “Please, Bessa. Please don’t leave me. Please. Plea-”

"Shh." She pulls you closer, awkward in the confined space but no less tender for it. You tuck your head into her neck as she soothes you. "Shh, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

"But-"

"I have two children," she says firmly. "Two wonderful, grown children who I love dearly. I have never once thought about having more. What I want - all I want - is you. Happy. Whole. Exactly as you are."

You're crying again, but differently now. "Really?"

"Really." She strokes your hair, rocking you as best she can in the tight space. "Though I would very much like to have this conversation somewhere with fewer dust bunnies."

You laugh wetly into her shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I would crawl under a thousand beds for you. Even into a grave." She kisses your forehead. "But perhaps we could move on top of this one? My back is not what it used to be."

"You’re really not getting any younger," you quip, the onslaught of relief making you giddy.

"Watch it, little dove." But she's smiling - you can hear it in her voice. "Now come out before we really do get stuck."

“What if we stayed here forever,” you whisper, “and you never let me go?”

She releases you, then shimmies out from the crawl space. Gently, she curls a hand around your ankle and pulls you out with a sharp yank. You gasp as you emerge from your hiding space, hair spilling around you and your dress rucked up just enough to display your panties.

Ambessa leans over, drags the dress further up until she can kiss the swell of your breasts. She looks up you, face ever-calculating.

“I will never release you,” she finally says. 

It should scare you, the clear promise, but it doesn’t. You lead her hand to your throat, just to hold it there, and smile instead.

© hcneymooners.

[revelboo]

I WANT ALL THE HUMANS REACTING TO THEIR TODDLER SIZED AUTOBOTS!! AHHH MY HEART! SO LITTLE BABIESSS😭😭❤️❤️🥹🥹

All the humans pretty much react the same way to small, helpless Autobots.

Mass Displacement Mayhem Scenarios

Prowl

• “Stop laughing.” Snarling the words at you as you double over cackling. Nothing about this is funny. Only about knee high, he glares up at you. And bares his denta when you drop to your knees and drag him by an arm to you. “Don’t you dare.” Struggling when you hook you arms around him and pick him up.

• “Why are you so heavy Prowler-wowler,” you croon as you shift him to a hip like a toddler. “So widdle and cute.” And the furious look on his face promises revenge, but right now? You’re bigger and there’s nothing he can do about it. And it occurs to you that you should be taking advantage of how helpless he is. Seize your chance to escape. Instead of amusing yourself with his impotent fury, because he’s just too adorable tiny. And baby talking him is making him angrier.

• Why are you talking to him like that?! “I swear to Primus I’ll punish you for this later.” Squirming as you bounce him and tap him on the nose with a finger. Telling him that he’s ‘cranky.’ And he’s going to show you cranky when he’s back to normal. “This is undignified!” Wait- are you carrying him out into the hall? Where someone might see?

Bluestreak

• Wincing at the high pitched squeal, he freezes as you drop to your knees and grab him. Smothering him in a hug so he’s pressed against you as you fuss over him. And he’s utterly speechless, too embarrassed to say a word of protest as you cuddle him. “You’re so tiny! Why didn’t you tell me you could be tiny?” He’s never heard your voice pitch that high before and you’re hugging him.

• Chest aching at how adorable little Bluestreak is, you cup his face in your palms. He doesn’t resist, optics wide. He was already so sweet, but this size? Dragging him into your lap, you play with his little door wings and spin a tiny tire, absolutely delighted. Can he still transform like this? Become a teeny little car? Hugging him to you as he makes a tiny noise, sprawled unresisting against you.

Sunny and Sides

• “I don’t need your help.” Speed walking as fast as his shorter legs will allow, Sunny glares over his shoulder at you. And Sideswipe, his twin straddling your hip as you reach for him. Because Sideswipe had actually lifted him arms to be picked up. “Stop!” Hears Sides laughing as you snag him and wrap an arm around him, straightening with a soft grunt at his weight. Dangling, pinned against your body, he growls.

• Jeez, they’re deceptively heavy. Shifting Sides on your hip, you carry the small bots as Sunny complains nonstop and squirms. And Sideswipe grabs onto you. “Watch your hands,” you murmur at him as he stares up at you with big, innocent optics and doesn’t ease up his grip at all. There’s no fussing at that face, he can’t possibly know better. “Look at you, two. Sunny, don’t pout.” How are they so adorable?

Optimus

• “Big guy? Holy shit,” you say, laughing as you kneel and cup his face in your hands. “Holy shit, you’re adorable!” Sitting and dragging him into your lap, you can hardly breathe for laughing. Because he’s so little and still looks so solemn and serious. Like the world’s gravest toddler.

• “Something’s gone wrong. I’m guessing Wheeljack,” he says, faltering when you tip his face up, grinning. And kiss him on the forehead. “Are you okay?” Because you’re still giggling. Arms wrapping around him, he finds his face pressed against your soft body as you squeeze him as tight as you can. Is this size causing aggression in you? Are you attacking?

Previous

Next

[icecream4starscream]

Spoiler Warning for Transformers One. Please go see the film, it's great.

Something occurred to me when rewatching Elita-1's firing scene:

Right off the bat, she's presented as an absolute unit in the mines. We see her being a very by-the-book character. She's incredibly competent, strong, serious, focused, and an effective leader.

Maybe a little too effective.

We learn that Sentinel goes out of his way to personally take care of any "anomalies" in his system and does so in a way where the blame always gets shifted away from him.

It's why he personally went to see Pax and D-16 after the Iacon 5000 race. He makes himself out to be the open-minded, compassionate leader he's been parading as.

When Darkwing throws Orion and D-16 into sub-level 50, neither bot suspects Sentinel for their demotion. In fact, they beg Darkwing to talk to Sentinel so he can sort out the "misunderstanding".

It's later confirmed that Sentinel never had any intention of talking with Orion or D-16 after their first meeting. When Orion reunites with his fellow miners later in the film, they mention that Sentinel put out a statement saying that they both died from "racing injuries".

Sentinel might've not even openly ordered Darkwing to dispose of them. Darkwing might've been manipulated into thinking everyone was mocking him for losing the race (thanks to lowly miners) making him want to get rid of them.

Subconsciously manipulating someone like Darkwing would've been easy for Sentinel.

Sentinel clearly does not tolerate anyone rising above the station he imposes on them.

So what does this have to do with Elita-1 being fired?

We see her rigidly following the rules, meeting all quotas, running a tight and efficient crew. She's doing her job as a miner, a role unknowingly forced upon her by Sentinel, perfectly.

Shouldn't Sentinel be happy about that?

Well sure...

If Elita wasn't actively trying to get promoted.

We don't get a lot of information about how promotion works in TFOne's mining system, but we do know that in other iterations of pre-war Cybertron, one of the only ways miners could rise out of the mines was by participating in ridiculously difficult gladiatorial fights in Kaon's pits.

In other iterations, this was how D-16/Megatron was able to escape his station and how he grew to be so strong.

So basically, whatever version you look at, the miners are told "if you work really, reeeeally hard, and do your job perfectly, and don't die in the process (which, odds are, you will) you might, MIGHT get a chance to get out of the caste you were born into."

It's BS.

It's an impossible feat. No one is actually supposed to be able to achieve that goal, but it's the metaphorical carrot dangling in front of the work mules so they don't notice the ever-tightening rope around their necks.

But every so often there's someone extraordinary, like Elita, who actually manages to meet this impossible standard and with whom it becomes increasingly difficult to deny this coveted promotion.

So what can Sentinel do about bots like Elita-1?

Simple.

Wait for a screw-up.

It must happen eventually.

A member of Elita's team, Orion Pax, in clear violation of evacuation protocol, goes back into the mines to save Jazz from getting crushed to death.

Despite managing to escape, the closing mine causes a tunnel support to be flung into nearby machinery (which doesn't look critical and could probably be easily fixed).

Then, right the heck outta nowhere, Darkwing drops in, SECONDS AFTER THE INCIDENT JUST HAPPENED, and immediately fires Elita.

No "What happened?" or "Who's responsible?" or "The supervisor wants to see you", he just pops into the scene and demotes Elita, arguably one of the best workers in the mine, to a bottom-tier waste management position.

As if he'd been on standby, actively waiting for a reason to fire her.

"But Elita herself wasn't the one who screwed up!"

Doesn't matter.

"But she told them to follow protocol!"

Doesn't matter.

"But Orion admitted he was the one at fault!"

Doesn't matter.

"But a bot was saved! Jazz would've died!"

Does. Not. MATTER.

Her firing is presented as the typical "one character says thing won't happen then thing immediately happens" joke, but given how so much thought went into so much of TFOne's background details, I can't help but wonder if this was a hint to how broken the system was and how it was always rigged in a way that ensures the miners will never get out.

Not to mention, once Orion, D-16, and Jazz safely escape, she chews Orion out by saying, "If I get fired for this..." meaning this abrupt, out-of-nowhere, baseless firing is absolutely typical.

That's what makes Elita's "I'm better than you" speech to Orion that much more meaningful, because in many ways, she is better than him.

She's a better worker, better fighter, better at completing the task at hand, better at making sure things run smoothly. She is, ironically enough, an efficient and perfectly-running machine.

But had Orion not dragged Elita to the surface, she probably would've spent her whole life obediently following the rules, never questioning why things were the way they were. She was so focused on rising up within the system that she could never look beyond it.

Elita might be the cog by which other cogs turn.

But Orion is the spark that shows them a better way.

That's why he was given the Matrix.

[wemlygust]

Are people doing this so they can sing along, or what? If I go to a concert, I'm delighted if I hear a great song I've never heard before, personally. Listening to music ahead of time like it's an exam would literally never occur to me as a thing to do. I'd acrually likely start avoiding their music altogether instead, for fear that I might listen to it too much and get (temporarily) sick of it before the concert (very bad timing obviously). Also, it's be a plus for the same reason food tastes better when you're hungry; music sounds better when I haven't heard it in a while. (none of this is meant in a judgey way, I promise, I just can't relate enough to be sure what the motivation is for this alternative thing I didn't realize people do until I saw this post.)

[homunculus-argument]

Thoughts on HIM? ( The musician, His Infernal Majesty, friend of Bam Margera, to be super clear)

This one time me and my boyfriend were watching this one Beared Gruff Camping Gear Outdoorsy Youtube Guy's video tutorial on how to make a makeshift tent out of a tarp, and I was genuinely surprised to spot that he had the HIM heartagram symbol (illustrated below to those not familiar with it) tattooed on his hand, right on the knuckle tattoo spot, because being a finnish millenial, I had associated the whole band entirely with edgy 13-year-old baby goth girls who are easily seduced by scrungly-looking prettyboys with a low silky voice (also illustrated below) singing comically saccharine love ballads about razorblade kisses and angels crying blood (yes, seriously).

So I was mildly surprised, in the way you're surprised of seeing something that you'd never considered might exist, but in hindsight there's no reason why it wouldn't. It had never occurred to me that a band with syrup-dripping lyrics about the glorious art of staining souls (actual line from one of their songs) could be enjoyed by a Wilderness Survival Manly Man type of guy.

Also I will not admit to also enjoying it. Like as a guilty pleasure. But I cannot help but love things that are so unashamed and unhesitantly over-the-top about what they do that it'd be impossible to parody. Just balls-to-the-walls most ridiculously dramatic cannot-be-mocked sickeningly sweet goop with great guitar work.

[everythingspokenfor]

𝓜𝓻. 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓵

Pairing: Bakugou x reader. All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI. ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏Summary: Maybe you should have looked up what your boss looked like...

Thinking about foreign!reader who comes to Japan as a support tech engineer and having an eventful first meeting with Bakugou

Bakugou hates airports, especially around this time of the year, too crowded, too loud, bustling with people. If he had a choice he wouldn't have come, send in a driver and cozied up in his bed but, his mom had different plans, she had called him the night before, specifically told him to pick her up from the airport. So, here he was, waiting for her plane to land, 3:45 am in the morning, a rapidly cooling coffee in his hand.

He was growing agitated at the whispering around him, it's easy for him to get recognised, blond hair and striking red eyes not easily forgettable. He sharply turns to leave the waiting room, not necessarily paying attention when his hand, the one that was holding cold coffee slams into someone and boom now he is staring at the aftermath.

You are staring start ahead, breathing deeply, you turn your head towards the jerk that slipped coffee all over you. Cold seeped through your shirt, the chill almost chilling your bones. You could feel the coffee seeping into your shirt, then inner wear and then your bra.

"Are you going to apologise or what?" You scowl at him, the coffee seeping through your shirt, the wet cloth irritating you further.

Bakugou continues to stare at you, anger evident on your features, he assumes you aren't Japanese from the lack of accent in your english. Before he could apologise you speak again.

"At least have the courtesy to apologise, asshole" you spit out at him, before throwing him the nastiest little glare.

Bakugou is surprised that you don't him, maybe it's his ego but again he is the top hero maybe not his rankings but he is famous and infamous for reasons. Everyone knows him, even people outside of Japan.

"Do you not know who I am?" He finally speaks, not the smartest response but a response nonetheless.

"Am I supposed to know you?" You look at him incredulously, anger subsiding and confusion settling in.

"you know what, don't answer that, i don't care and I am tired, all I know is you are a jerk and I really wish to never run into you again!" You semi-yell at him and leave the waiting room.

He almost chased after you but he phone started ringing, his mother's contact displayed on the screen, informing him of her arrival.

He looked back at the direction you had gone, but you already disappeared. Sighing he left to pick his mother from the arrival gate. And he leaves, slightly bummed that he didn't get to apologise.

-------

"-nd like he walked straight into me and didn't bother apologising." You waved your hands around, trying to emphasize your impromptu collision with Mr. Brick wall, to your new housemate and colleague.

Not necessarily a good think, shit talking on first day of work, but you had to kinda explain why you were doing laundry in the middle of the night.

"That's rude, could've at least apologised.". Mari agreed, both of you walked down the hallway as she was showing you around the agency building.

"Well, hopefully no further mishaps occur." She had stopped in front of a large laboratory, you could already spot your stuff on one of the tables.

"Yeah, hopefully." You mumbled mindlessly, eyes admiring the lab, it was the largest you had seen, with more advanced equipments as well. Mari left you alone at your destination, already going back to her work.

You also got to work, looking into boxes of broken and damaged support equipments, you had already read about them, their functions and materials used to build.

It was an easy job to repair the items, folding your sleeves you got to work, one by one you repaired majority of the items the only thing left where, chunky, hefty, gauntlets.

You knew the belonged to Pro-Hero Dynamight, read about him in passing, already aware of the architecture of the Gauntlets, it didn't take long for you to fix them up, even being generous enough to replace parts with your tech.

Assuming your work was done you called Mari.

"You still need to see if the function alright." She paused before looking at her laptop screen," Pro hero Dynamight is already in the building, you should give him the equipment and see if it works properly."

Even tho, you were slightly peeved, cause of course it works, you just fixed it, you still took the hefty box to 12th floor of the building.

You entered the office without knocking, hands busy holding the box, barely even looking at the people standings there you deposit the box on the table next to the couch.

"Here, it's for Dynamight, fixed it, they should work top notch." You gasp out, breath slightly rapid due to carrying all that weight.

You turn around and spot 2 people in the room, one was Pro-Hero Red Riot, whom you recognised because he has least amount of support equipments listed and the other was Mr. Brick wall.

"You little shit, what are you doing here?" You blurt out without thinking, finger accusingly pointing at him. Not yet aware that the Pro-Hero you were looking for is right there, at the end of your accusatory finger.

Kirishima stared at you in amusement, before speaking," You must be the new tech, Welcome to the agency, I am Kirishima Eijirou." He stood up and extended his hand for a shake, you politely took his hand and uttered your name. Before looking over his shoulder at Bakugou.

"Don't mind me, but what did lil' shit over there do?" Kirishima semi-whispered in your ear, thumb pointing back, at where Bakugou stood.

"I spilled coffee on me, and then stared at me like it was my fault." You stated, arms folded, glaring at him, Bakugou stared back at you, hands shoved in his pocket as he leaned against the table.

"It was an accident, you scurried away before I could apologise." He finally spoke, Kirishima nodded his head, like accepting the explanation.

"NO, I waited and Mr. Brick Wall didn't apologise." You yelled, looking at Kirishima to back you up.

"That's not cool," Kirishima looked at you, shit eating grin on his face, you grinned back, feeling confident that Pro hero Red Riot was on your side, he continued,"You should apologise, Dynamight."

The gratification of getting the apology didn't last long when you registered his last word.

"Dyna-dynamight??" You spluttered," As in Pro Hero?" You looked dumbfounded between the two heros, face flushing in embarrassment, before you turned to Bakugou, who was looking at you bemused.

"I didn't kno- I am sorry, it was my fault." You uttered desperately, the fear of getting fired on your first day making you forget your past grudges. You haphazardness making Kirishima giggle, and Bakugou sigh.

"Oi, it was my fault, should have seen where I was going" Bakugou said calmly, moving to smack the back of Kirishima's head, who promptly shit up.

"You don't have t-." Bakugou shushes you before you could speak," The mistake was mine, me being a hero doesn't change that."

You stared at him, hoping for him to dismiss you soon, so you could sob in the corner of your big, beautiful lab.

"How about this, I get you a coffee, as an apology." He asked, Kirishima let out a snort, before Bakugou glared at him.

"You don't have to, it's not an issue anymore, Mr. Bri-Dynamight." You looked sheepishly at him, hoping he didn't change on the nickname you had given him.

"Let me, I'll get you a coffee, you'll need it after working here for a while."

"Fine then, we can get it sometimes." You accept his proposal (?),before looking at him, awkwardly trying to gesture at the door.

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows, watching you flare your arms towards the door, before Kirishima spoke," You can leave now, I am sure the gauntlets would work just fine."

At the dismissal you scurried out the door, running zig zag avoiding the few people present in the hallway.

"So, that's the 'fireworks' you were talking about, Mr. Brick wall." Kirishima queried, head resting against his palm, as a smug expression formed on his face.

"Don't fucking push it." Bakugou gritted out, trying to think of how he could fix his image in your eyes.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Brick wall." Kirishima chimed.

[eilomilo]

post-arguments with billie

pairing: gf!billie x fem!reader

genre: angst n fluff

a/n: idk how i feel about this one. but i'm posting it anyway lol. love u <3

you hated arguing with her. you both tried your best to avoid it, and arguments rarely ever happened between the two of you.

but like in every relationship, arguments are inevitable.

whenever they occured, you'd lock yourself away in the bedroom whilst billie would be downstairs. or vice versa.

neither of you liked fighting with each other. you hated it. and that's why they rarely ever happened. and when they did you'd both do everything in your power to fix it.

and the fights would always be about silly things, jealousy over nothing. . overthinking something small.

and neither of you could help it, you both knew that it was because you were scared of losing each other, which -of course- was never going to happen.

but when you love someone that much, that thought can linger with you, it scares you. . and so you try to make sure you never make any mistakes, never fuck up. . and in the process of trying so hard to not fuck up. .

you fuck up.

the period between the argument and talking again was painful.

it doesn't help that every single second, the two of you are both constantly in need of each other and so when fights happen, it puts that need on pause for a bit. or makes it stronger. .

but eventually, you both give in to that need, make up with each other, and everything is back to normal again.

and tonight was just the same. you were sitting on the bed, hugging your knees. waiting for the sound of the door being gently pushed open by billie.

and when it was, all those negative emotions went away, all the worry, all the sadness. .

"hey baby girl." she gave you a sorry smile, her voice was soft and almost sad in a way. she came and sat next to you, gently taking your arms away from you knees and placing them around her neck.

"m'sorry mama." she whispered, resting her head against yours and gently rocking you back and forth in her arms.

"can we be friends again?" she asked, causing you to smile. she planted a slow kiss on your cheek. "i love you." she mumbled as you buried your face in her neck, "no matter fucking what, okay?"

she leans back to look at you to make sure you've understood and you give her a small nod. "baby, tell me you know."

you gaze at her for a few seconds before grinning and confidently stating, "i know," she grins back at you, presses a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, "my baby."

© eilomilo, all rights reserved.

[rivendellrose]

Why in the name of all that's holy would I do that?

My vision isn't even that bad—I'm far-sighted, so if I want to deal with eyestrain later I can do everything up to and including reading—and most of my prescription is to deal with astigmatism and a lazy eye that was partially repaired by surgery but didn't really fix, but... why. No. It has never in 40 years of wearing glasses occurred to me to take my glasses off while eating.

Are you guys having a hard time eating without getting food all over your glasses, or what? Sounds like a skills issue.

People who wear glasses: do you take them off when eating?

[cherrysolo]

loooove the way you wrote pissed lu, i remember reading something from his old roommate (?) where he said he never saw him anything but calm so i couldn’t picture it until i saw your reply to the request!! would love to see more of him trying to keep himself calm or how he would react to pissed reader <3

thank you sm!! I remember seeing his old roommate say that! it was very difficult for me to write because I don’t picture him as an angry person, so it was a good challenge! I’m so glad you loved it <3

this little piece is inspired by your request to see how the reader acts when she’s pissed and how lu deals with it. it’s also inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “all too well”. (if u guys get the references hehe). plus I deal with anxiety so this is soooo me lmao.

you and Luigi had flown from Hawaii to Pennsylvania to have a reunion dinner with his fraternity brothers. all of his closest college friends would be there with their significant others. you were so excited to finally meet some of his best college friends, you knew how much they meant to him.

as excited as you were, you were just as nervous. you struggled with social anxiety and meeting new people in large groups, something that luigi didn’t have trouble with at all. sometimes it felt isolating to have a partner who was very social and flourished in large groups. but anyway you did it for him, you just needed to relax and put on a happy face for him.

the dinner was going well as the boys reminisced, and the girlfriends made small talk. explaining their new job titles, talking about post-collegiate bliss, and looking back on their lives at penn.

quickly coming to the realization that you were the only one who didn’t go to an Ivy League school. you just studied English literature in Montreal, nothing special. all of these successful twenty somethings, long history of accomplishments, and you’re just… you. your eyes dotting back and forth at everyone at the table, just realizing how beautiful and blonde all these women are. did lu go to school with them too? my god, you felt so small and insecure with these anxiety-ridden thoughts flying through your mind. the smell of food began to be too much, your hair was sticking sweaty to your neckline, and your leg started bouncing to help calm yourself. you knew that these thoughts were untrue and were created in your mind, but your heart couldn’t stop racing. you didn’t feel good enough, to be by his side.

Luigi has always been a practical person, but he understood you struggled with anxiety and being in unfamiliar situations. He has never truly been in your shoes, but he tries his best to help out in anxiety-ridden situations, by grounding you or repeating your mantras.

Since he was used to comforting you in these situations, you quietly tried to grab his hand while he was talking to his ex-roommate to his left. you grab his hand, placing it on the table and intertwining your fingers. this is typically what you guys do to ground yourself in public, it’s a simple and sweet gesture.

as quickly as you grab his hand, it’s gone. he gives you a side eye, drops your hand, and continues his conversation like nothing happened. he dismisses you, in a way he hasn’t before. the act is cold and shocks you to no end. you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to calm down. while pacing back and forth in the ladies' room, you begin to have even more thoughts about what just occurred. why can’t he be affectionate in front of his friends? do I embarrass him? do you think they’re noticing how long I’ve been gone? taking some deep breaths, you walk back to the table.

…

“why have you been ignoring me the whole way back to the hotel?” luigi confronted you as soon as the door unlocked.

you scoffed, your anxiety and upset eyes had turned into anger. you felt embarrassed and angry that you even felt anxious and that you couldn’t be as socially acceptable as your partner.

“it’s nothing, I just want to go to bed, I’m tired,” you whispered. but luigi was having none of that,

“baby, you’re the one who said we should communicate better. what’s wrong? everyone was so happy to meet you tonight.” he pleaded with you.

“you dropped my hand.” you plainly stated, as luigi looked at you dumbfounded and confused.

his mouth agape, truly questioning what you meant by that.

“you dropped my fucking hand, what am I supposed to do with that?” you raised your voice, noticing the anger take over.

“I didn’t even fucking notice, what are you even talking about?” luigi matched your tone.

“I don’t even know any of these people. They’re all strangers, they’re all older than me, I feel so out of place! you know how bad my anxiety gets!” rushing to explain your anger but it just makes you feel worse.

luigi rolls his eyes, “I was catching up with my friends! you’re literally saying I dropped your hand. like what does that even mean? I don’t even remember the moment. god forbid I don’t pay attention to you for two seconds!” his tone and aggression shocked you. the last sentence is what made you go quiet. your face dropped, and you silently walk into the bathroom to take your makeup off.

lu regrets what it said as soon as it left his mouth. this is why he doesn’t like to be angry in front of you, regrettable things are said. he genuinely wants to help you during times of stress, but he doesn’t fully understand what goes on in your brain. he couldn’t tell that you were so upset over a small gesture.

as you leave the bathroom, getting ready for bed, you sigh, feeling a bit silly about overreacting. your feelings were valid, but the aftermath of a sudden argument makes you feel dizzy. you know that deep down he cares for you, but occasionally he doesn’t fully understand the extent of your anxieties. luigi was already falling asleep, so you lightly got into bed, not wanting to wake him.

the bed shifts as luigi turns over to face you, putting his hand on your waist. “this okay baby?”. you sighed and nodded yes.

rubbing his hands across your waist and your stomach, he begins to apologize, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or scared. I try to pick up on signals, but I can’t always read you that well. I’ll always be there to hold your hand,”

you hummed and placed your arm on his bicep, moments like these remind you why you love him so much. even during overwhelming situations, or not entirely understanding your reasoning, he still comes around, eventually.

“I love you, lu. I just get so overwhelmed and sometimes frazzled, sometimes my mind is like a car alarm that goes off for no reason, if that makes sense,” you explain, giggling. your laughs due to how silly it sounds out loud, but it’s true.

he smiles softly, trying to make sense of your analogy. “I see what you’re saying. sometimes I feel like a car that has no engine, I just shut off completely.” says jokingly, trying to make you smile.

you giggle, nudging your head into his chest, with his warmth enveloping you. “I think we both need to communicate more, amore,” he says softly, you know he’s joking, but there’s the truth behind it.

you felt him pull you closer, “I love you forever, my love. now get some rest” he softly says and presses a kiss on your forehead.

as you fall into a deep slumber, you feel so loved and appreciated by lu.

[bwat5-blog]

Quick Response To Some Fresh Lunacy

**Spoilers For Arcane**

So while I have only delved into the sheer bedlam that is the Arcane Critical tag once, every now and then one of those feisty little diesel drinkers makes it onto my feed and I am treated to something like this as reasons season 2 supposedly sucked (their phrasing was much more unpleasant):

1. The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it. 2. Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters. 3. Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn. 4. Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid. 5. Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured. 6. Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover. 7. Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character.

Okay... breathe deep... it hurts.. I know it hurts. It hurt me as well to read such a strong concentration of felonious stupidity all in one place as well. But we must never falter. There are a lot of ways I could respond to this. And perhaps at some point I will go more in-depth. But the simple fact is nothing here requires a long, drawn out, point-by-point defense. Because I have seen the show. Which clearly gives me the upper hand here. So, I am going to give each of these the amount of attention they deserve.

The people of the Undercity died to save Piltover while wearing Enforcer uniforms despite Piltover doing nothing to earn it

Hey there. Remember him? Does it seem like once he pacified Piltover he was just gonna call it a day, get back in his gigantic astral hamster ball and fuck off back to the compound? No. His goal was the evolution of humanity. Not Piltover. Jayce spells this out clearly. "This isn't a fair request". But it is the truth. And regarding the uniforms. The average Undercity character is seen is some variety of leathers/cloth/wool whatever that usually is displaying a decent amount of skin. THE ENFORCERS WEAR ARMOR.

Silco was turned into a mouthpiece for forgiveness and letting go of the past despite being one of the only pro-zaun characters

Okay. I am going to make this is as simple as possible so you can follow along with me:

As we know, Silco is not there. Jinx is essentially working this out in her own mind through these hallucinations

Her status as Silco's daughter, being a symbol, his influence and shadow, it is all tying her to the past which as we know is filled to the brim with delicious sugary trauma.

Even though he was a monster, she views him as a father figure. And as much as it sucks to say probably more than Vander. She was so young when Vander died. She was with Silco during her real formative years. And I would bet she has pushed Vander away mentally to protect herself after everything that has occured. So while Vi sees Vander in the barfight when she wants to give up, Jinx sees Silco.

Silco is giving Jinx the permission Jinx realizes she has to give Vi to save both of them.

Jinx was redeemed by sympathizing with topsiders, forced to apologize for killing Caitlyn's mom and felt like she needed to die so Vi could run off with Caitlyn

Again. HUMANITY ENDING THREAT. Also ya know her fucking sister wanted her by her side.

OH NO! OUR MURDEROUS MENTALLY ILL TERRORIST IS HEALING AND TRYING TO TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY FOR HER MISTAKES! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! NOT CHARACTER GROWTH!

3. True. In that moment she felt she needed to die.. because as she says, she feels "there's no good version of me". I know it's unfair you have to watch the whole scene to get it. But you have taken a profound moment of Jinx's love for her sister and her recognition of how Vi loves her and made it.. whatever this was supposed to be.

Vi didn't care about the grey and serviced Caitlyn in a prison cell where she was locked away by Enforcers as a kid.

I have done this so... so many times. I am not doing it again. I will go with the same blanket statement I have been using lately: A non-lethal crowd dispersal weapon in targeted locations against dangerous drug lords and a terrorist who likes blowing shit up? Seems like a decent plan.

Well done. You have taken a beautiful moment of meaning between these two characters and simplified it down to the utmost degree. There are numerous thoughtful, in-depth and heartfelt breakdowns of this scene available and I promised myself I wasn't going to waste a bunch of my time responding to this mind-melting ignorance. So I will just say this. If that is all you see in that scene, I really am sorry for you. I hope someday things improve.

Jayce acting like Viktor's illness that was caused by Piltover wasn't something that needed to be cured

Because it wasn't about Piltover or Zaun you crusty dishrag. Viktor was trying to purify all of humanity after a life-time of seeing the imperfections and weaknesses in himself as a start. Jayce loved Viktor. I'm not even getting to romantic or platonic, he LOVED VIKTOR. I suppose you would have preferred for him to look at Viktor and yell "You know what you diseased freak you have a point! Good for you taking everyone's humanity. WELL DONE!"

Ekko never calls out Heimerdinger for his failings, Vi for joining the Enforcers, and risks his people (the firelights) to help Piltover.

Heimerdinger is very aware of his failings. You have to watch in season one. Again.. watching the show you talk about.. very hard I know. And as close as he and Ekko are in season two I think we can safely say they are on the same page. Never mind that Ekko has shown he has no trouble calling out anyone who needs it.

Ekko and Vi are family. So while it is true he may be angry and we don't see it, I think a character of immense heart like Ekko who loves Vi would actually talk with her. You know.. rather than the savage degradation of Vi some people seem to wish for.

AGAIN FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY

Sevika almost being cut completely, never reacting to Isha's death or interacting with Jinx in act 3 and risking her life to help Piltover which is way out of character

She is a side character. Sorry but she is. But after a lifetime trying and failing to stand for Zaun she becomes their first ever voice on the council. She is the representative of every person she has wanted to protect. Sorry if that doesn't cut it.

When exactly would we have seen this? I also would have been curious to see her reaction but they were dealing with the whole ya know.. war?!

Same to above. I wish we could have seen Jinx rallying the undercity with Ekko. I actually give you this one. I think this was a missed opportunity.

ONCE MORE WITH FEELING

I'm sorry scary Viktor. I don't know why they keep forgetting you.

[mindibindi]

Let me tell you tale, young shippers. The Millenium kiss was spoiled for me by a magazine (like tumblr but on paper and finite). No spoiler warning because that was not a thing back in the day. You could spoil and be spoiled with impunity. I was just out of school and working in a bookshop at Fox Studios in Sydney (they had lots of XF memorabilia in their shop). It was a slow day so I picked up one of the magazines to browse, something I was not supposed to do while on the cash register. For this reason, I usually preferred being on the floor, cos I could browse the bookshelves. The story wasn't front page material, in fact it was on the final page, complete with grainy, blown-up pictures to make it look super raunchy. Was I disappointed that I was spoiled? Yes, slightly, but I had also been waiting for this moment for what felt like an aeon so I wasn't that mad about it. I had begun to think this blessed day would never arrive. So do try to imagine the level of composure it took for me to calmly close that magazine, stealthily slide it back into place (so that I could purchase a copy later), and continue my day as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. As if my wee shipper world had not unexpectedly tilted on its axis.

i see x files fans saying they're old bc its the 25th anniversary of millennium and they remember it airing and it's like how cool is it that you're still here and how cool is it that this piece of art still moves you? i think og x files fans are the coolest people and i'm glad you're still here

[eunandonly]

why’d you only call me when you’re high? ( 이희승 )

you keep telling yourself you’re done with heeseung and his late night calls, but the door’s still unlocked. it’s the same cycle: him showing up, you giving in, and both pretending it means something.

pairing: heeseung x fem. reader [ masterlist ]

warnings: toxicity, alcohol mentions, drug mentions (weed), heeseung is high, heeseung is an asshole, kissing, skinship, angst, reader is lowkey kind of dumb

word count: 1.3k

🖇️ : a bit different than the stuff i usually post but yeah

you stare down at the message on your phone, the screen illuminating your face in the darkness of your living room. the words blur slightly, not because you're crying- no, you're well past that- but your tired eyes can't believe this is happening again.

heeseung: you up?

three words. simple and deliberate. always arriving at the same time. they're heeseung's signature, a routine written into your life against your will. you don't need to ask why he's texting you now, hours past midnight when everyone is asleep and the streets empty and bare. the answer is always the same. he's either drunk, high, or both. and he wants you to be the soft landing he definitely doesn't deserve.

your fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitant and unsure. it always goes like this. you know fully well that if you reply, you'll end up letting him step into your home in hopes of something. and you know fully well that when you wake up tomorrow morning, he'll be long gone. bed empty, leaving you to piece together the wreckage he never stays long enough to clean.

your phone vibrates suddenly in your hand, heeseung's number popping up on the screen. he's calling you, and all you can do is stare at the green and red buttons in surprise. it only occurs to you know that you still haven't deleted his contact after countless times of telling yourself you would.

you don't even know why you're surprised that he’s calling. when the liquor burns and the smoke clouds his mind, you're the only number heeseung remembers.

with trembling fingers, you click the green button. you click the green button even though you know you'll regret it later. you click the green button just like you did a hundred times before because as much as you hate to admit it, you can never ignore him.

you never learn, do you?

"y/n," heeseung's voice says from the phone, and you lean back on the sofa, holding your breath. his words are slurred and delayed, his speech fragmented and disjointed. "can i come over?"

you let out the breath you've been holding and grip the phone tighter in your hand. "heeseung... are you- are you high?"

there's a pause before heeseung speaks again. perhaps he's taking a drag from his joint. chugging down some liquor. "no, no, i'm not. i swear i'm not. i swear."

"you are," you say, dragging a hand down your face. you shouldn't have picked up. you shouldn't have. you should've let it ring out, or even better, decline it. delete his contact for real this time. but you still answered, foolishly hoping that things will be different this time. that he'll be different this time.

it always comes down to hope with you, doesn't it?

"i miss you," heeseung drawls. "i want you so bad, baby."

you squeeze your eyes shut, a thousand thoughts crossing your mind. he doesn't want you, not really- only the fleeting comfort you offer when he's high and hollow.

"the door's unlocked."

***

it was a mistake to invite him.

you should lock the door. turn off your phone, climb into bed, and let heeseung knock until his knuckles bruise blue and purple. but you don't. instead, you stand there, in front of the empty door, waiting for the sound of his unsteady footsteps climbing up the stairs. the familiar click of the door opening. heeseung still knows the password to your home, and even though you know you should change it, you never do. you blame it on forgetfulness and laziness and come up with all sorts of excuses to calm down the erratic thoughts in your brain. gaslighting yourself that there really is no bigger reason as to why the set of numbers still remain untouched.

but no matter how many times you try to deny it, you know fully well what the reason is.

when the door opens, you take a step back as you stare. heeseung's hair is messy, his shirt wrinkled and his eyes glassy with desperation your naive self had once thought could fix. his lips twitch into a sort of half smile when he sees you.

"y/n," he says, kicking off his shoes and walking over to you like he owns the place. he towers over you, smiling down at you with a strange, twisted expression you can't really comprehend. you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed from him, a confirmation you didn't really need. you knew from the message. you knew.

before you can say a word, heeseung steps forward and pushes you against the wall, hands on your waist, firm and unrelenting, and the dull thud of your head meeting the surface that only seems to surprise you. you barely have the time to register the discomfort before his lips crash onto yours. messy, almost desperate, and the taste of alcohol and smoke floods your senses, bitter and suffocating.

you know you should push him away- your mind screams it over and over. but your body betrays you, frozen in place. his lips press harder against yours as if he's trying to erase the memories he left last time, and you let him. you let him because, for a fleeting moment, the weight of your loneliness feels lighter.

your hands hover uncertainly over his shoulders, slightly shaking. you don't want to pull him closer, but you can't seem to let go either. when your fingers finally make contact with the warmth of his skin, it's tentative, almost apologetic. you grip tightens as you kiss him back, as if holding him will keep him from slipping away again. but deep down, you know it won't. you know how this ends.

but ignorance is bliss, isn't it?

you pull away for a few seconds to look at heeseung's eyes, bloodshot and glazed over.

"why do you keep doing this, hee?"

hee. you don't try to mask the way the nickname slipped out of your mouth like second nature. heeseung's probably noticed it too. you can tell, from the way the corners of his lips quirk up.

he doesn't answer right away. he kisses your lips again, one hand on your waist and the other at the back of your head.

"because you let me."

the words feel like a punch to the gut, but you don't flinch. he's not wrong. he's never been wrong about that.

you should kick him out. lock the door. delete his number.

but tonight, you'll let him stay. just one more time.

[roseganymede95]

So I’m working on the next longfic and honestly, I am so happy I’m doing this.

It just never occurred to me that this was allowed? It’s like, as a kid who thought adults were boring, it never occurred to me that I would still want to have fun as an adult. I always thought I would grow out of this.

But now I’m an adult, and I still want to have fun, and holy shit! There are people out there who want to have fun too! And we can talk to each other! And create together! And be excited about things!

When I was in high school I would have denied to your face that I had ever head of fanfiction. But now I’ve written over 250,000 words of it. I’m proud of it. I’m happy about it. Unfathomable to younger me.

Anyway I love joy and I love other people and the Dead Boy Detectives fandom is incredible.

[thenickgirl]

JEALOUS part two

bf!nick x oc!jalen

➳ part one

summary: in which Nick gets jealous during a party.

type: oneshot ❀ genre: comfort/smut ❀ pov: third ❀ wc: 1.8K

warnings: swearing, anal sex, bottom!nick, top!jalen

a/n: finally, here’s part two, yayyyy. i hope it’s worth the wait. the ending is saur cringy, but i couldn’t come up with anything else, i’m literally just a girl okay. happy reading! ❀

‘And I know that you’re not honest

Now you got me yellin’

That’s because I’m jealous’

‘I’m just jealous, I’m just human’

Jalen sat at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, as his mind replayed the events that just occurred. He was upset, he knew that there hadn’t been anything going on between him and the guy tonight, and he couldn’t believe Nick would even think he’d do something like that. He loved Nick, and would never hurt him, and Nick should’ve known that. But, the more and more Jalen sat with his thoughts, he came to a realization, and immediately rose to his feet, heading towards the bathroom door.

He stood there hesitating at first, wondering if he should just let it go, and sleep on the couch, but he didn’t think that was fair. He didn’t start the argument after all, so he shouldn’t have to be the one to apologize first, he thought. But their relationship meant too much to him, Nick meant too much to him, and they agreed to never go to bed angry, so he swallowed his pride, and knocked.

“Baby, open the door. Let’s talk about this,” Jalen says, now desperately wanting to apologize.

“I’m done talking, J. Just leave me alone!” Nick responds through the door, and Jalen could hear him sniffling, which made his heart break.

“I’m sorry, peach. C’mon, please, open the door,” Jalen pleaded, twisting at the knob, sighing when he was left with silence. He pressed his forehead against the door, uttering a final ‘please.’ He closed his eyes, feeling defeated, until he heard a click from the other side.

Nick opened the door, his eyes were wet and red, and before Jalen could even say anything, Nick had turned and walked back to the sink, before sitting on it. Jalen stepped in cautiously, settling across from him, leaning against the shower wall. A heavy silence fell between the two for a while, until Nick spoke up.

“Is that really all you think of me?” he mumbled as he looked down, avoiding eye contact. His eyes caught hold of their matching shoes. Despite how hurt he was, the sight of it made his heart skip a beat.

“No, of course not. I don’t…I-I didn’t mean-“

“You said it,” Nick cut him off.

“I know, and I shouldn’t have. I was just upset, and offended, and I know that’s not an excuse but,” Jalen trails off, “Nick, we can’t keep doing this,” he mumbled.

Nick's head shot up, eyes narrowing at what he thought his boyfriend was implying, “W-what are you saying…?” he replies, baffled.

Jalen rushed to Nick, wanting to reassure him that he wasn’t saying what he knew Nick was assuming, “I’m not saying anything. C’mon, peach, just talk to me. Actually talk, no more arguing,” His tone was soft, pleading, as he now stood in front of Nick. He wanted so badly to touch him, but decided against it, not wanting to make him more upset, or uncomfortable.

Nick looked everywhere, but at the man in front of him. Jalen moved to sit beside him on the sink, another heavy silence falling between the couple. Jalen knew how much Nick hated being so vulnerable, so instead, he spoke up, in hopes that Nick would open up more.

“You know…maybe I did get carried away tonight. I’m too friendly at times, and I can admit that. I guess, I wasn’t thinking about how all that might look to you, or how it would make you feel, and I’m sorry. I know you weren’t being insecure, that was stupid of me to say. I shouldn’t have been so defensive. Your feelings are valid, and I should have considered them. You weren't being dramatic. Well,” he pauses, “Maybe a little bit,” Jalen teases, earning a small chuckle from his boyfriend.

“If I’m being honest, had the roles been reversed, I probably would’ve reacted the same way. I never meant to hurt you, peach.” Jalen says sincerely, as he turned his head slightly to look at Nick, who was staring down at the floor below him. After a bit of silence, the dread headed boy slid off of the sink, deciding to let Nick have some space to think. As he inched towards the door, he heard a very faint ‘wait’.

Nick finally decides to speak up, his voice weak, and cracking, from all the crying just prior. “I was jealous, and maybe I overreact-“ Jalen interjects, walking back towards Nick.

“No, you were right. I should’ve-“

“No, J, let me finish,” Nick says, interrupting Jalen.

“I overreacted. Deep down, I knew you weren’t flirting with him, or anything like that. I just hated watching you enjoy someone else's company so much.” Nick began, his eyes still not meeting Jalen’s as he bit his lip, hoping it would help bite back the tears, “I guess, I was just pushing you away cause I’m-“ Nick shrugs slightly, wondering if he should even admit something like this. “Scared.” He whispered, his eyes fluttering as the tears that were rebuilding finally broke free.

“Scared of what, baby?” Jalen asks, as he steps even closer, settling in between his lover's legs. He cups Nick’s face in his large hands, his desert brown eyes looking deeply into the ocean blue ones beneath him, as his thumb gently swipes the tears that had fallen.

“Losing you. Of you finding peace, and happiness with someone else…With someone like him,” Nick admits, his voice croaking out the last sentence.

“I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. That guy meant nothing to me, absolutely nothing. He wasn’t even that funny, I was just trying to be nice. Nick, there’s not one person that can compete with you, baby. You’re it for me.” Jalen reassures him.

Nick immediately becomes flustered, his cheeks, and ears beginning to heat up, as he playfully pushes Jalen away from him, “Stop making me blush.”

Jalen chuckles at Nick's suddenly shy demeanor, “It’s true, peach. I’m so sorry about tonight.”

“I’m sorry too, J. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that, I should’ve just been honest about how I was feeling. It won’t happen again.” Nick vowed with confidence, he would never let what transpired tonight happen again. He loved Jalen, and what they had so much.

Nick engulfed Jalen in a hug, his face buried in his chest, as Jalen’s arms wrapped around Nick’s shoulders. Jalen softly kisses the crown of Nick’s head, a much lighter silence now falling amongst them.

“I love you,” they both whisper at the same time, before chuckling.

Jalen pulls back, leaning down, capturing Nick’s lips. He tries his best to pour every ounce of love he has into it. Nick deepens the kiss, moaning into his mouth as his arms wrap around Jalen’s neck. Jalen swiftly swoops Nick off of the sink, carrying him into the bedroom, without breaking the kiss. He then lays him gently on the bed, his tall frame hovering over Nick’s petite one. Nick's hands roam his boyfriend's body as they kiss passionately, his fingers brush against Jalen’s brown skin as he slides them under his shirt. He then tugs it off of him, breaking the kiss for just a moment before kissing him again.

The feeling of Jalen’s lips on his was driving the brunette wild, but he was craving more of him. He managed to unbutton Jalen’s jeans, before dipping his hand inside. A gasp emitted from Jalen’s lips, as he pulled away from the kiss when Nick’s hand palmed his semi hard dick through his boxers. Jalen’s hips involuntarily buck into Nick’s hand, as he worked his length, his thumb tracing circles around his tip, coating it with the precum that had already leaked.

“Mine,” Nick says, more as a statement than a question, his eyes staring into Jalen’s while he pumped his length, and Jalen let out a ragged breath, “Fuck yes, all yours,” he nodded, as he moaned.

Jalen takes Nick’s hand from his body, before swiftly discarding both of their clothes. He then reaches into the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lubricant, before squeezing it onto his fingers. He spends some time working Nick open, as he moans at the feeling of Jalen’s fingers curling inside of him.

Nick gasps once Jalen carefully slides into him. No matter how many times they’ve been intimate, he never gets used to his size. Jalen moans at the way Nick fits him like a glove, almost like he was made just for him. He leans down to kiss the brunette’s neck, sucking and biting at his skin, before smoothing the mark over with his tongue. The sensation against Nick’s sensitive spot causes him to whimper in Jalen’s ear.

“God, I love all the little sounds you make,” Jalen groaned, as hips rocked against Nick’s.

His thrusts were slow and deep, as he had their hands interlocked above Nick’s head. Nick instinctively wraps his legs around Jalen’s waist, drawing him even deeper. His body shook with pleasure each time Jalen bottomed out inside of him.

“So deep, feel so good, f-fuck” Nick moans, as he squeezed on Jalen’s hands. His manicured nails leave crescent moons on his caramel skin, as they dug into the flesh.

“Yeah? Taking me so well, peach, so pretty,” Jalen whispered against his neck. His lips trail down to his boyfriend’s chest, and his teeth latch onto his nipple, and Nick whines. Jalen smooths it over with his tongue, then sucks it, flicking it every so often, before doing the same to the other one. Nick moaned, his back arching at the feeling. Jalen leans up, connecting their lips again, as he releases Nick’s hands, and they immediately wrap around Jalen’s neck, pulling him close.

Their bodies continued to move together in harmony, as the sun began to rise, and Nick felt his release approaching. He lifted his hips in an attempt to meet his lover’s strokes, the motion causing Nick’s walls to squeeze deliciously around Jalen, and he let out a low growl. As he felt that familiar feeling rising, he reached down between them, grabbing Nick’s length, before working his tip with the palm of his hand.

“Jalen…” Nick whimpered, as his body shuddered. His nails dig into Jalen’s back, as he’s brought closer, and closer to the edge.

“I know, baby, I know. Cum with me.” Jalen encourages, as he bottoms out for a final time. His hips stutter while he empties his load deep inside of Nick, as they cum in sync.

Jalen collapses on top of him, both panting, as he peppers soft kisses along Nick’s shoulder. He rolls off of him carefully, before pulling Nick to his side, his arm cradling his back. The brunette rests his head on Jalen’s chest, loving the way their heart beats synchronized.

“I love you, J. I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.” Nick confessed, as he reached up to caress Jalen’s face, pressing a soft kiss on his jaw.

“I mean, you could. You just wouldn’t find one,” Jalen teased, as he winked down at Nick.

“Oh my god, shut uppp,” Nick rolls his eyes, slapping Jalen’s chest playfully, as they both laugh.

Jalen kisses the top of Nick’s head lovingly, “I’m just kidding. I love you, peach. Today, tomorrow, and forever.”

‘If you’re keeping your promise, I’m keeping mine’

—

✎ signed,

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ❀

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @sturniolossss @sturniioloslut @ameerahsblog @yukayoooh @freshloveee @asherrisrandom @dumbf2ck @maliaforstvrns @nicksbestie @emely9274 @marrykisskilled @ksturnz @colorthecosmos444 @tyummyz @idrk2292 @sturniololuv08 @soursturniolo

[poooooooooao3]

You must have room temperature IQ if that's what you got from that. Look at the date of the article, cum stain.

Oct. 9th 2023.

the quote from the same article:

Which goes against the claims that this was already occurring prior to the attack, which, according to your hamas butt boys, was the "reason" they attacked.

Any country any fucking where no longer has an obligation to feed, clothe, treat or care for the same people that attacked them. Would you criticise Ukraine (the Slavic bread basket) for doing the same thing after the Russian invasion? Probably not. Why?

The slaughtered people and kidnapped them. They still have a large number of them. What should Israel do? Roll over and say 'harder Sinwar'?

You think Gazans are helpless because of your bigotry of low expectations, and you think Israel is to blame because you're saying this part out loud with your actions.

You can't stop something that never started in the first place. Such as all the aid that was and now is going through Israel to Gaza. The cessation of goods was brief, but you'd know that if you were capable of looking for recent sources. I guess that does't fit your narrative though, am I right?

Anyway time moves the fuck on, and here we are, in 2025. We know more now, or at least the adults do.

Let me guess. Propaganda? Thanks for opening that door too, remember?

I addressed that here:

As for Genocide, it isn't. It's a war. The deaths, which have been obfuscated and inflated, are lower than is usual for urban warfare. Something you would know if you could get that useless lump of tissue between your ears to work without the cognitive dissonance.

Source 1

https://www.wsj.com/opinion/the-u-ns-anti-israel-genocide-purge-c8feef1a

It's giving, "I don't like your findings, Madame Expert, because they don't agree with my opinions." Kind of like you. Hey, you should ask they for a job. You'd fit right in.

As for the inflated and deliberately wrongly reported numbers?

That's right here, by an independent study group. Out of the UK.

Source 2

https://henryjacksonsociety.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/HJS-Questionable-Counting-%E2%80%93-Hamas-Report-web.pdf

Hmmm? If that's how they feel about their fellow Palestinian, manufacturing a 'genocide' for people like you, useful idiot that you are, seems to be in their best interest.

His father is Sheikh Hassan Yousef, a co-founder of the Palestinian Islamist organisation Hamas.

I guess you'll look him up on wikipedia though right? Bad idea.

That's okay for you though right. Hey, turn that frown upside down. There's good news you can trust.

Hamas is winning everything. You don't have to worry about your little genocide.

Anyway, been fun playing but you can crawl back into the hole you came from, toilet demon.

Israel being accused of deliberately starving Gazans.

Also Israel:

I will never get tired of how easily disproved these allegations are, yet the rest of the world when confronted with evidence by the literal truckload be like:

[cemetegee]

Does Ianthe Have a (Deadly) Disease? [Theory]

This is a theory which occured to me last night (while I was half asleep), but the more I think about it, the more sense it seems to make! Could Ianthe have a - possibly even deadly - disease? The following post will be a collection of hints my brain collected under the rubric "possibly connected to Ianthe's birth". (While I'm still not sure if all that is connected to her womb situation btw, that's just the collection title.) In this post I will talk about her Mysterious Anaemia, her Weakness (TM), her Knowledge about deadly diseases, her view on the Death, and the reason(s) her parents "risked intervention". So let's go!

The Mysterious Anaemia

The first thing that strikes me as odd in this context is... Ianthe's anaemia. Ianthe canonically has anaemia. Gideon calls her "the anaemic twin" all the time, and (what's of course the more telling hint, since Gideon has actually no clue of medical things) she is really as pale as the dead. Actually, she must have a really severe kind of anaemia, because she is described as having skin the color of "canned butter" and mustard".

(For your rememberance: this is what canned butter and mustard look like:

)

I know, it's easily to forget, and fandom artists almost never show her that way but it IS no exaggeration. White people with severe anaemia really look like that.

And it can't have diet reasons (if she doesn't have some kind of eating disorder). Harrow says that "she couldn't actually be anaemic based on her diet" (Yes, Harrow apparently doesn't know that anaemia can have other causes as well. Maybe because of her lacking knowledge about The Flesh):

Anaemia can actually have two reasons (strongly simplified):

Wrong Diet

It can be the symptom of an other disease

(Next to the obvious thing: blood loss. I actually considered if she could maybe do some permanent necromancy, maybe connected to Corona - but I doubt it, since Harrow could easily look to the Protesilaus thing, and would probably notice it.)

That's a pretty strong hint that she could have some kind of (deadly?) disease.

The Weakness (TM)

The second hint is not only a hint to that Mysterious Disease, but also another proof for the anaemia. It's the corporal weakness Corona explains (and declares to be casual necromancer Weakness):

I know nothing about you, but... To me it sounds (even for a necromancer) oddly "weak". I mean, that's of course only assumption, because we know nothing about specific about necromancer-strenght. (I mean, even Harrow can hold her arms up long enough to paint her face.) And sure, Gideon mocks Harrow all the time for the fact that she can't swing her two-händer... But that's an overmanshigh sword, which is probably even twice as big as Harrow, Ianthe's hair is surely lighter. And it's also an oddly specific (AND therefore probably true) example.

And it's also a symptom of anaemia:

But maybe it's a symptom of the Mysterious Disease as well?

PS: Another interesting thing is that Corona - apparently! - doesn't know about the exact symptoms of anaemia. It could be that she doesn't know about the (suspected!) disease as well.

PPS: As a person who made A WHOLE POST about the possibility of Ianthe having ADHD I should know that she fulfills another symptom of heavy anaemia named decreased attention. (My theory still stands though! Although there may be overlaps of "symptoms", there are still some things about her I can only explain to me with her having ADHD.)

PPPS: Her fucked up sleep rythm is also an indicator for heavy anaemia. (As well as for ADHD btw.)

Knowledge About Deadly Diseases

Another thing which strikes me as odd is her knowledge about deadly diseases. And I'll admit, indeed, at first, it seems as if she'd know nothing more than necromancer gossip.

But Palamedes chronically underestimates her. And a little later, "Dulcinea" mentions a secret of the Seventh House, connected to the "perfect death". She says this:

That could of course be a lie... (Especially since the context she says it in - about how she apparently want to have animated Protesilaus -is definitely not true lol) But it could also be true! Just because Cytherea lies about her identity, it doesn't mean that she lies all the time about everything. (I mean, it IS strange that a whole House would build up its reign on a family of shortliving people with blood cancer, if it does NOT bring any necromantic advantange, isn't it?) What offers the interesting question if Ianthe knows that secret of the "perfect death" as well... (And therefore more than Palamedes here!)

But a topic about which she certainly knows more than Palamedes - or anyone else in the room - is thanergy transfer. And she seems - for some reason - to think that an thanergy transfer of a person as sick as "Dulcinea" was possible. Even after she's been "corrected" by Palamedes before:

Why does she think that? And why has she even knowledge about this case of thanergy transfer? That's an oddly specific and very strange nerd theme - at least for a perfectly healthy person. (And regarding the fact, that she is - unlike Palamedes - NO "medical" necromancer, and therefore doesn't need that knowledge for her "job".) I find the study of such cases to be a very strong hint to her own health.

PS: I don't know how I should put that, it's also obviously no main point, but while we're on Gideon the Ninth: I find it interesting that she never discriminates Cytherea for her disability. I find that interesting, because it IS something you could expect of her. (Since she is not very sensitive with Harrow's mental health in HtN.) And we even have someone who does it: Silas. She does not. I think it wouldn't be so strange if she had a personal relationship to it. (But maybe she's only afraid of Cytherea... I mean, I understand, she is creepy as hell!)

Pain Tolerance

One other thing that makes me think of Ianthe as having some disease is her absurdly high pain tolerance... We see it in the whole second book! For example in the scene where she stabs Harrow's, but also her own hand:

She doesn't even flinch.

And here another example: I mean, obviously she feels pain during the whole arm scene, cutting off an arm, and letting regrow it is apparently a process which is very painful and which even she perceives...

(Although her reactions are of course, uuuum, interpretable. But she feels SOMETHING, okay?) BUT we have an other scene which pretty much implies that she has thought about cutting of her arm herself, and look if it regrows:

(I mean, she takes Harrow serious her. It looks to her like an acceptable option.) My point is, that you need an incredibly high pain tolerance to even CONSIDER that... (To be fair, she hasn't much choice here, but together with the other things I can still see a pattern.)

And that lets me think of something @thanergetic-hyperlinks reminded me of, when I mentioned her pain "resistance" for the first time. PAIN PATIENTS can in fact develop a higher pain tolerance. And... without the context I probably wouldn't think about it, but now I do... could Ianthe be one?

Dying as a Skill Issue

One thing that's actually pretty obvious about Ianthe is (as soon as you've noticed it once) that she... seems to think of dying some kind of Skill Issue. We see it for example in her reception of Abigal's death:

Abigail didn't die because Cytherea murdered her, but because she brought her husband. Because she did something wrong. And Ortus OBVIOUSLY didn't die because he was murdered as well, but because he was too sad.

She leds back dying to a lack of personal qualities. Dying is for suckers.

This idea is... a little bit strange to be honest, and it makes me think... could Ianthe believe that, because she has...a serious problem on the dying side? Because she's facing it, and fears to fail? Is that the reason she wants to become a Lyctor so desperately? (And maybe even some kind of God?)

She was Allowed to Survive

Let's come to the last point! This is about a talk Ianthe and Silas have in Gideon the Ninth. They talk about Ianthe's womb situation, that she'd been about to die, and that her parents risked "intervention". Silas then basically asks why her parents didn't let Corona "kill" her, because that would have made necromantically much more sense than saving her. (Rude, btw)

(Btw, now that I read this scene again I see that there's something super-off with the way Ianthe says that. Either she's lying here or she is hiding something. In any way it seems to be a VERY unconvenient theme for her! It reminds me very much of the Gaslighting scene - only in regard to the vibes.)

And I don't believe for a single second, that her parents did it for her. The Idan monarchs seem to be quite awful people. The main reason why she was allowed to survive is probably that her father wanted a Necromancer Pair as power symbol. The Third is all about show, and they did probably prefer the gleam of two twin necromancers over one more powerful one. (To their luck actuall, because whatever Corona did, it obviously didn't give her the expected powers.)

But I can't help but wonder... if the Mysterious Disease played a role as well? Especially regarding the fact that deadly sick people apparently have a reputation as "the perfect necromancers" among necromancers! Was there any reason to assume, that Ianthe would be especially powerful? Either because of a side effect of her birth situation? And/Or because of... the "promise" of a deadly disease? Why did her parents risk intervention? Silas doesn't seem to think it was a good idea...

Conclusion

Does Ianthe have a (possibly even deadly) disease? I'll be honest... It's possible. There are circumstances which are definitely suspicious, and her desperate wish to become immortal is definitely remarkable. I feel as if we'd miss an important piece. But maybe there is no disease! I wouldn't know, I'm neither a doctor or a biologist! (If you are, please share your thoughts if you have any, I'm genuinly interested) Maybe it all is some necromantic thing that hasn't even to do with our real world at all. And I don't know if it's connected to her birth, although I find a few hints to be there for that as well... To conclude, maybe Ianthe has a deadly disease, it's definitely suspicious, I love her, I love you, thanks for reading, mwah :3