#Not sure if anyone’s been able to tell though

[hrrtshape]

okay. that was a LOT but your questions were elite. 10/10. feel free to send more. 💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

so happy u said this bc i have more questions and wonders ✨💕

what was the ministry of magic like? what things did you see/do for your politics class? i’d like to know about the weirder ministry jobs, like mr weasley worked in the muggle artefact office… what do u even do in there??

what’s it liked being around ghosts? can you put your hand straight through them or is that considered inappropriate 😭

was there anything you were super excited about before you shifted, but then once you got there you realised it wasn’t that exciting? or things you didn’t even think about and they ended up being the most exciting things?

you might’ve been able to tell from my questions about witch princesses and wizard cavemen that i’m super into history, so magic history makes my head explode. i’d love to know about witch hunts, and how did muggles and wizards learn to just leave eachother alone? of course the muggle governments must know about witches and wizards, so how does it remain a secret?

also would love to know about the owl airforce ???? how does that even work???? how do they know where to take the letter? and how would you get a big parcel delivered somewhere?

and and and the soap blizzard!!!! what even happened there? 🧼

what kind of wizard diseases or viruses can you get? and is there anything that’s not curable?

what’s your favourite spell? omg and is there witch makeup? or cool jewellery that does weird things?

have you learnt about boggarts and if so what’s yours? you don’t have to answer that one it might be quite deep lol but did anyone in the class have any weird fears?

LAST ONE i promise 😭 the triwizard tournament…. is that happening whilst you’re at school? also is it always the same activities? fighting a dragon, diving into the lake, running through a maze? or is there more? and what’s the worst thing that’s ever happened during a tournament?

okay i’m done thank u so much😭😭😭😭😭😭 do you know when you plan to shift next? or do u just decide before u go to sleep? 💓💓💓💓 love u thank u 💓💓💓 sorry if there’s any typos

oh my god !!!?!??? no this is actually the best set of questions i’ve ever received. this is exactly what i want.

the ministry of magic: a mess. think about every government building you’ve ever seen and then imagine it’s also enchanted to be deeply inconvenient. the atrium is gorgeous, very gilded-age-opulence-meets-dark-academia, but the deeper you go, the weirder it gets. the politics class (which i've interconnected with history of magic which is WHY it's so interesting to me) field trip was mostly a tour, but we did get to see some actual policymaking in action,,,, though by policymaking, i mean a group of wizards arguing about cauldron thickness regulations like it was life or death. (to be fair, they take that seriously because faulty cauldrons have, quote, “led to a concerning rise in explosions.” so.)

as for weird ministry jobs, there are loads. the muggle artefact office, where mr weasley worked. then there’s the unspeakables, who work in the department of mysteries and don’t tell anyone what they actually do (suspicious). and my personal favourite: the wizarding equivalent of health and safety inspectors, who go around making sure people aren’t running blatantly dangerous shops. (they are always running blatantly dangerous shops.)

ghosts: yes??? you can technically put your hand through them, but it’s kind of like sticking your hand in a freezer full of dry ice. cold, weirdly tingly, and generally not the vibe. also yes, it’s wildly inappropriate. they hate it. it’s the ghost equivalent of someone coming up to you and just. poking you in the forehead. (peeves, however, has no such etiquette and flies through people all the time just to be annoying.)

pre-shifting excitement vs reality: okay this is so real because i swear i thought i’d be most excited about, like, potions class or going to diagon alley. but actually the best things were the tiny details. the staircases of the astronomy tower that groan like old men when you step on them, the way your wand feels like an extension of your hand, the smell of old parchment and candlewax in the common room. and the most overrated thing,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, quidditch matches. i’m sorry. they sound fun from an observers perspective, but have you ever sat in a freezing cold stadium for hours while tiny specks zoom around in the distance? it’s like watching football but worse because at least with football you can see the ball. i can say this with confidence because i would be dragged to watch coryo practise. it's way more fun when you're actually flying

wizard history: oh my god you’re my favourite person because magic history is insane. the witch hunts, yeah, those were a joke. wizards figured out very quickly that muggle fire did basically nothing to them, so it turned into a game of “how many times can i get burned at the stake before they get bored.” the international statute of secrecy (which made the wizarding world go into hiding) happened in 1692 because wizards were not being subtle and the muggles were starting to get suspicious. most muggle governments do know about magic, but they act like it’s classified top-secret information, which is hilarious because wizards are so bad at staying hidden.

owl postal service: i cannot stress enough how much faith they put into these birds. if you send a letter, you don’t tell the owl where to go. you just hand it over and trust that it has some kind of divine bird gps. same with parcels, except for massive ones, you’d probably send multiple owls or just use floo powder like a normal person. (except no one is normal. they will always choose the most dramatic delivery method possible.)

the soap blizzard: ended up writing the whole history on this but. in short: soap storm, bubble bursts, economy crashes. a messy chapter in wizarding history.

wizard diseases: loads, and some of them are horrific. spattergroit is like wizard chickenpox but worse, with actual purple pustules (vom). there’s also dragon pox, which is basically the flu but it turns you green and scaly before it kills you. most things are curable if you get to st mungo’s fast enough, but some, like lycanthropy (werewolf-ism), are more of a long-term situation.

favourite spell + wizard fashion: wingardium leviosa is the most useful spell in existence. i am lazy. i want things to float for me. as for wizard fashion, makeup is a huge thing, but it’s mostly subtle. like lip stains that last for days or eyeliner that applies itself perfectly every time. jewellery is insane. enchanted necklaces that hum when someone lies to you, rings that heat up when danger is near, bracelets that glow different colours depending on your mood. absolutely sick. luv it.

boggarts: mine is… dot dot dot a mystery just because i'm not ready to share it yet. but some people in class had truly bizarre ones. like, one kid’s biggest fear was a plate of raw fish (unclear if it was the texture or just an innate hatred of sushi). another girl’s boggart was a slightly larger version of herself. ed culture was still a thing in hogwarts. somehow.

triwizard tournament: tragically, no, it didn’t happen while i was there. but from what i’ve heard, the tasks do change sometimes. there’s always an endurance challenge, a test of magical skill, and something deeply psychologically cruel (because why not). worst thing to ever happen? in 1792, all three champions got eaten by a cockatrice. which, yk. not ideal.

shifting plans: depends!!!!! sometimes i plan it out, sometimes i just go eh, vibes and decide that night. but you best believe i’m already scheming my next trip.

this was an elite interrogation. thank YOU. 💓💓💓💓💓💓

[storiesforallfandoms]

scrub scrub ~ willy wonka;wonka

word count: 2883

request?: no

description: in which the quiet girl with the impossibly large debt opens up to the chocolate maker

pairing: willy wonka x female!reader

warnings: use of y/n, scrubitt and bleacher

this one is for @omeletdreamer

masterlist (one, two, three)

"What about her?"

Crunch turned to see who Willy was talking about. A young woman was scrubbing away at her assigned laundry. Where the others were open to meeting Willy and sharing their story with him, she had worked away, ignoring everyone else.

"That's (Y/N)," Crunch said. "She keeps to herself. We don't really know much about her."

Willy hummed in response, turning his attention back to her. He noticed her pausing what she was doing for just a second to glance over at him. When she saw Willy was already looking back at her, she quickly looked away. Her hands worked much quicker now, almost like she was trying to pretend she hadn't been caught.

Willy chuckled. "Well, I intend to change that."

Piper snorted. "Good luck with that, chocolate man. She's even quieter than Lottie. At least Lottie tries to interact with us."

"You're better off trying to have a meaningful conversation with Bleacher," Larry added.

Willy didn't respond. He knew the others would think he was crazy, and maybe he was, but he was going to get the quiet girl to talk to him. He had plenty of time to make it happen, after all.

~~~~~~

Willy was surprised to find out that the bedroom doors didn't lock at night, but then he remembered what Crunch had told him about the extra charges if someone tries to escape. Also, although Scrubitt and Bleacher were cruel people, Willy was sure they weren't cruel enough to block access to the bathrooms. At least, he hoped they weren't.

He hadn't been able to sleep. The events of the day had been playing in his head nonstop, preventing him from sleeping. He decided to try and go for a walk, even though it would only be around the wash house.

He figured he'd be the only one awake, but he noticed a dim light on in the main work area. Willy followed the light to find (Y/N) hunched over the mangle. One of her hands was limp on the crank while the other was on her lap, and her head was hanging forward. Upon closer inspection, Willy realized she was asleep. Hesitantly, he reached out to gently shake her shoulder. (Y/N) woke with a start, yelping when she realized she wasn't alone, which caused Willy to yelp as well.

"Shh!" (Y/N) snapped. "You'll wake the dog, and then the dog will wake Scrubitt!"

"Sorry, but someone screamed at me first," Willy retorted.

"I didn't scream. You startled me, so I yelped."

There was no use in arguing, because he really couldn't argue. He had woken her after all, so he had been the start of their accidental yelling match.

"What are you doing out here anyways?" he asked instead. "It's bedtime."

"I don't have time to sleep," she muttered.

"Seems like you were just sleeping."

(Y/N) glared at Willy before turning back to the mangle. She started turning the crank again. She was turning at such a slow pace that Willy knew she was completely exhausted. The circles under her eyes indicated that it wasn't the first night she had stayed up late.

"Why are you still working?" he asked. He didn't think she'd actually tell him, but he wasn't going to beat around the bush. If (Y/N) didn't want to tell him, then he'd drop the topic and just go back to his room.

To his surprise, she sighed and said, "I need to keep working. I can't stop."

"But why?"

Her movements slowed further until they stopped completely. She was staring blankly at the mangle. Willy could see that her eyes were starting to well up with tears, and he quickly regretted pushing the subject.

"My debt is much worse than anyone else's," she started. "Unlike everyone else, I was here for two nights before Scrubitt dropped the bombshell on me. I don't know why she waited. Extra cruelty I guess. Either way, they charged me double what everyone else got charged, you included I would imagine. So they told me I'd have to work here for roughly 60 years to pay off my debt."

"60 years?!" Willy said.

(Y/N) nodded. "And then ,despite Crunch's warnings, I tried to escape. I couldn't be trapped here for 60 years. I'll be well into my 80s by the time I'd get free. Of course, that stupid dog was at the door. Started barking like crazy. Bleacher and Scrubitt were down in seconds, almost like they were waiting. They threw me back in and tacked another 1000 onto my debt. She told me I'd be lucky to ever see the light of day again."

"But...I don't understand. Why do you work so much?"

"Because I ended up striking a deal with Scrubitt. She told me that instead of paying off my debt per day, I can work it off. How much I get cleaned and back to them will be a chunk of my debt taken off. So...I just work. I don't talk to the others, I barley sleep, I barley even eat."

"That's not healthy, (Y/N)."

"Staying in this wash house until I'm old and grey isn't healthy either. I need to get out. I can't spend my life in debt to those people."

Willy couldn't argue. His debt seemed so big and never ending, but his was only 27 years worth. He couldn't imagine having to face 60 years inside the wash house. At that point, everyone else who was currently there would be gone and new, poor souls would come in, but (Y/N) would still be there.

But even in the short few hours of Willy knowing (Y/N), he could see that her attempts to work off her debt was taking a toll on her. She looked absolutely exhausted, both physically and mentally. He was shocked she wasn't completely withering away before his eyes.

Willy reached out to touch her shoulder. (Y/N) jolted at the touch, pulling away. Willy figured that was a reasonable reaction. He spoke gently as he said, "You should go to bed."

She shook her head. "I can't. I need - "

"You need to sleep. All this hard work will be wasted if you drop dead from starvation and fatigue."

(Y/N) signed. She knew he had a point. She looked at the cloth that was halfway through the mangle. "Can I finish this one at least?"

"Why don't I help you with it?"

He placed his hand over hers on the handle. She didn't start this time when he touched her. Willy moved the handle of the mangle, watching as the cloth continued through it before coming out the other side. He also helped (Y/N) to fold it and add it with her pile for the day. She told him that Scrubitt would look over the pile during roll call and take off whatever the pile was worth from her debt. The pile was so big that Willy felt like it should be a large sum off of her debt, but knowing Scubitt she would probably take a single soverign.

Willy helped (Y/N) back to her room. He could tell the fatigue was starting to take her again. She was swaying as she walked to her room, mere moments from falling asleep. When they got to her door, she sheepishly smiled at him. "Thank you, Willy."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I never told you my name."

"I overheard Crunch introducing you earlier."

He chuckled. "I noticed you were watching."

"I wasn't very subtle."

There was a pause as (Y/N) reached for her doorknob. She quickly kissed Willy on the cheek, mumbling a soft, "Thank you" before slipping into her room.

Willy drifted back to his own room with a dreamy smile on his face.

~~~~~~

The next few days, Willy and (Y/N) became closer. She would greet him every morning, to the shock of the others. They would work together; sometimes Willy would slip some of his things onto her finished pile. No matter how much she argued against it, he still did it. It was only one or two, not enough to tip off Scrubitt but enough to help make a dent in her debt. He also started slipping her chocolates every now and then after he and Noodle started making them. At least he knew she was eating then, even if it was just a few chocolates.

The first time Willy and Noodle successfully slipped out of the wash house, Willy felt slightly guilty. He knew there was no guarantee that their escape plan would work, and it wasn't exactly a permanent escape plan, but once the two of them were outside Willy found himself feeling guilty for not inviting (Y/N) to come with them. She deserved to get to be outside, even for a short period of time. When his and Noodle's escape was successful, Willy found himself beyond excited to get back and invite (Y/N) on their next outing.

She was in her room, which Willy was glad to see. Most nights he noticed that she did go to bed when the rest of them did, which meant she was sleeping at least a little.

Willy softly knocked at the door. He excitedly bounced on his heels while he waited. He could barley contain himself as the doorknob turned and the door opened just a crack. (Y/N) peaked out at him before opening the door wide. "Wille? What are you doing?"

"Noddle and I got out?"

Her eyes widened. "You...you what?"

"I needed something for my chocolates, and we came up with a plan to go get it. And it worked!"

"Are you crazy?! What if you got caught?!"

"But we didn't! And I want you to come with us next time."

(Y/N)'s mouth opened and closed a few times. She tired to speak but it all came out as stutters. Finally, she managed to say, "I can't, Willy. If they catch us - "

"They won't! I promise. I have it all figured out. We'll be in and out, and Scrubitt and Bleacher will never know." He took hold of her hands. "(Y/N), please. Just one night."

She still looked conflicted. Willy was worried she'd say no. He'd respect her decision if she did, but he wanted her to be out. He wanted her to feel confident in the escape plan when it came time to open his chocolate shop so that she could come out with everyone else to see it.

Finally, (Y/N) said, "Okay."

Willy was beyond happy. He pulled (Y/N) into a hug, taking her by surprise. She couldn't help but chuckle at his excitement. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited at the prospect off getting out of the wash house. It wasn't a permanent escape, she couldn't risk attempting that and blowing her deal with Scrubitt and Bleacher, but it was a chance to be outside again. And she desperately needed that.

When Willy let her go, he said something about telling her the plan tomorrow, before rushing off to his room. (Y/N) was still smiling to herself as she closed her door and went back to bed.

~~~~~~

(Y/N) felt lightheaded as she breathed in the fresh air. She had been stuck inside the wash house for so long, constantly breathing in the smell of the cleaning supplies and steam from the hot water, that she didn't realize how cold and clean air was supposed to be. And it was chilly, instead of unbearably hot from the steam and hot water in such a small area.

It was freeing. For the first time in a very long time, (Y/N) felt free.

Willy couldn't help but smile at her.

"Hey," he said, pulling her from her moment. "I have something I want you to see."

The streets were completely empty, making everything very quiet. On normal occasions, that would probably be quite eerie. But for (Y/N), it was beautiful. It was all so peaceful. She tried to remind herself not to get used to it, but she wished she could. A life outside of the was house was so long ago that she could hardly remember it. She was suddenly yearning a lot more to free herself from Scrubitt and Bleacher.

Willy led (Y/N) to an empty building. He paused to look at her. "I know this may seem off, taking you to an empty building in the night, just us. But I need you to trust me."

She nodded. "I do."

He nodded back, then pushed open the door.

The building was empty, and desperately in need of a clean. (Y/N) could see the dust particles floating in the moonlight.

"What is this place?" she asked.

"Well...you know how I make chocolate?"

(Y/N) chuckled. "Yes, I'm very aware of that."

"Well, I came here to sell chocolate. To have my own store, to make people happy with my creations. I've had some bumps in the road, but I don't intend on letting that stop me. And this - " He made a grand gesture to the empty building. " - is going to be my shop."

(Y/N) smiled, but it didn't completely reach her eyes. "How do you intend to do that, though? I mean, I think it's a great dream to have, but Scrubitt will never let you out of the wash house to make it a reality."

"That's where this escape plan comes in. Noodle and I have Scrubitt and Bleacher so distracted that they have no idea when we're coming and going. I'm going to talk to the others and see if they'd be open to helping me set up this place. I already have the chocolate made, it's just putting my store together and getting the word out."

(Y/N) was quiet. When Willy looked at her, he noticed tears in her eyes. He quickly moved to comfort her, pulling her in for a hug.

"I like your dream," she said. "I like that you dream big. I just...I wish I could feel confident in helping you with your dream, but I...I don't know if I'll ever get free from the wash house. I don't think Scrubitt ever intends to actually let me go."

"Hey," Willy said, pulling her out at an arms length to look at her. "You will be free from there. I will make sure of it."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes I can. I will give every sovereign I make here to Scrubitt to pay off your debt, and then I'll pay off mine. I'll help the others too. Then we'll all be free. We can be free together."

"I can't let you do that, Willy."

"You're not letting me do anything. I want to do it. I want you to be with me."

Neither (Y/N) or Willy could've predicted what would happen next, but next thing they knew, their lips were touching. They weren't sure who had initiated the kiss, but they both knew they had wanted to do it so desperately that it didn't really matter who started it.

The kiss was quick as they both pulled away just as quickly as they had leaned in, but the spark it left was undeniable.

"I guess if you want to pay my debt, I can't stop you," (Y/N) said.

Willy chuckled and shook his head. "You can't."

(Y/N) rested her forehead against Willy's. He wanted to lean back in to kiss her again. He didn't think he ever wanted to stop kissing her. If it weren't for Noodle, and everyone else back at the wash house that he now considered his friends, he could be tempted to take (Y/N) and run away from here. Somewhere so far away that they wouldn't have to worry about the police dragging them back to Scrubitt and Bleacher. Somewhere that they could be free together, and run the chocolate shop properly without having to sneak around.

But he couldn't do that. He had more people he needed to help, and he wasn't about to concede to Slugworth, Fickelgruber, and Prodnose. He was going to start his chocolate shop right here, just like he planned. Except now, he had someone who made the dream so much more worth it.

"I think you're going to do great things, Willy," she told him. "I can feel it."

"I really hope I do."

To Willy's delight, she leaned in to kiss him again. He held her close, and they both allowed themselves to forget that this moment was only temporary. Soon enough, they'd have to go back to Scrubitt's and sneak their way back into the wash house. Willy wasn't too concerned about that, though. Besides the fact that he was very sure Scrubitt and Bleacher would still be preoccupied, he also didn't dread going back there anymore. Not when he could have (Y/N) in his arms like this. Because whether his chocolate shop failed or succeeded, whether or not he truly did make enough to pay off both of their debts to Scrubitt, Willy knew he would have (Y/N).

And right now, that's all he really needed.

[morbeing]

OKAY I've got beef too. This might as well be an essay so im going to put a readmore on it (if it works).

This image op tries to sell of women is so demeaning, and it says a lot about the people that just happily accepted their explanation. I don't know if that is a thing people do (I'm aro) but I never cared about a wedding growing up. Sure, I assumed it would be a thing that would happen, I assumed I would have kids cause the world is incredibly amatonormative and thats what my parents did and they were my prime example in life, and i imagined what I'd do or not do if I had children, but wedding scrapbooks???? What is that. In elementary school, we would play house (me being the only Mormon of the group) and I never even wanted to be the wife, or the daughter for that matter. I wanted to be the pet hamster. Was op suggesting that girls just spend their entire childhood just dreaming of the day they get married, of their future husband and their dress and everything?

ALSO. The whole "every girl knows she'll be second fiddle at best"??? WHATT?? I never got this message, gotta be honest. All I ever really heard was "she's my best friend" or "I don't know where I'd be without her". Honestly, I think the worst advice I ever heard was to find someone who would be everything you could ever need, in a companionship way. Like, when you have free time and instead of calling up your friends to hang out, all you want to do is have a date w/ your wife (it was a man talking about his marriage). That seemed a bit too unhealthily codependent to me. But second fiddle???

ALSO. The whole idea that we are essentially stripped of our personhood??? Who in their right minds could possibly think that an entire (growing, mind you) society of women would just gladly give up everything that makes them people? How stupid does op think we are?

Also, young women can enter into the temple, just not the entire temple cause you go there for a purpose and that purpose is not tourism. Besides, I've not been endowed and I've been all over a temple before, when a temple was just completed and before they dedicated it. Tons of people have. Tons of nonmembers have. It is only after the temple has been dedicated and consecrated that they restrict who is able to enter. Is it really that insane to assume that religious people may put religious significance on a religiously important place, and therefore want to keep it clean?

What else... OH! Leadership! Mythologicalmormon mentioned this a bit but I'm going to add on to it. My ward was small, so everyone had a calling, sometimes 2 or more. I was in the YW presidency non-stop, rotating through the callings. At the same time, I was part of a (new, I think?) stake youth council, planning stake and multi-stake activities. I was practically begging to get released at the end (not really but still). The reason I was in SYC for so long was because they specifically NEEDED a boy and a girl from each ward. They wanted both of us, they wouldn't have been happy with just boys. (They'd probably be happier with just girls than with just boys, let's be honest)(except then they wouldn't have anyone tall enough to put up decorations...). The young women and relief society as an organization work as well as they do because of the women leading it, not whatever misogynistic reason op would provide. Give us some credit dude.

Also, weddings? Freaking awesome. I can't say much about the sealing ceremony (not endowed) except that after my sister was sealed she looked so happy, and my sister is not one to just sit down and take disrespect. What I can talk about though are the wedding receptions. Those are so fun (to me at least). Like, we dance? Have food? Talk about the bride and the groom and their funny stories? Cut cakes and maybe smash it into each other's faces? Dance? (If you can't tell i was (am) one of those people who loved stake dances) you don't have to worry about formalities or whatever, you're just there to celebrate the two. Also, you don't need to have a reception at your church. The reason so many people do is cause its WAY CHEAPER. You don't have to book some fancy location, it's a big room with easily cleaned floors and tables and chairs already provided. Plus, if you are in Utah or whatever, there are literal companies that can come over and set up decorations that make it so pretty anyways. Its simple, and easy.

I'm mad at op (of the bad post, not this post). I'm mad at all the people who hate so easily that they don't even think about what op said. I'm just a person. I have self respect. I suck at my current calling, but I'm still trying. I'm just trying to go through this world and this life in such a way that I can love comfortably and happily, that I can grow and learn as much as I possibly can, and that I can keep hold of a faith that has brought so much light and joy to my life. I know our church is not perfect. But nothing is.

idk if anyone has seen that post about weddings being why mormon girls are leaving the church but i have so much beef with it

[wanderswithinyoureyes]

Just Be There... [Astarion x F!Reader]

Summary: You find yourself in uncharted territory with Astarion.

Author's Note: I always like to switch things up a bit....

~~~

The silence was defining, heavy...

No one had uttered a single word or let out a single exhausted sigh. No, the shock of the situation that had just unfolded left everyone stunned, unable to think of the right thing to do or say.

And if someone even thought to even mutter a word, the sight of Astarion's blood-soaked body was enough to make any word choke up in their throats. Even for someone to glance at another just ended with a sad expression, and a gentle shaking of their head, almost as if they had been told some news so painful that it was simply too hard to swallow. Especially for her... Because at the mere sight of him, all she could think of was his cries. Those screams of anguish; how heavy the pain was in every sound his body couldn't help but let out. And though afterward she helped lead all those spawns to the safety of the Underdark, and he seemed fine, she knew he wasn't... Those hypnotic ruby red eyes gave it all away.

As they reached the Inn, no one bided the other a goodbye, simply waving lazily. A silent sign to say that they'd all see each other in the morning, going into the room they shared with another companion.

And she, of course, had returned to her own room that she shared Astarion, finding it logical to, considering they were together.

But as she closed the door behind her, the silence seemed to grow even heavier, clinging onto her like a second skin. Astarion hadn't joined her yet, having gone down to wash himself of the blood that was now dried onto his skin. Yet, she found herself struggling with the thoughts that consumed her even more.

What could she do for him...? What could she have done to make something, anything easier for him? It was all her mind seemed to ask, making a sinking pit growing even larger in her stomach.

When he collapsed down onto his knees, casting the dagger aside as he let out his wounded cries, she had just... froze. She had seen him vulnerable yes, gazing at her with pained eyes and wavering words. But, to see him breakdown the way he did tonight just... stunned her.

To see firsthand a pain affect someone that deeply, someone she deeply loved nevertheless simply made it hard to think straight.

Should she have approached him? Wiped the blood from his face before pulling him in an embrace and telling him that it would be okay? It would've made her feel better someway sure but, how, how can you tell someone who is clearly hurting so deeply that it would simply all be okay?

A hug and a gentle caress wouldn't be able to fix any of that, that much she knew.

But was it better to just... stand and watch Astarion in silence? What if he did need a gentle reassurance, just someone, anyone to tell him whatever he needed to hear? Yet, she had no idea what he needed to hear, what he needed to at least try and settle the pain for a respite.

Not being able to help someone you love, someone who desperately needs... something, was frustrating for her, made her stomach churn to the point where she honestly felt sick. And the evidence of the turmoil within her mind now grew evident on her face, just as Astarion's pain was evident in his. The sound of the door creaking open shook her up slightly. Her eyes darted to the deep wood before her, watching as Astarion stepped into the room, closing the door mindlessly behind him once more.

Their gazes then met, they always did, and their stares grew curious, almost as if the other was trying to gage what was running through the others mind. But, alas, no one had a scroll of detect thoughts to use tonight.

"Waiting up for me, I see?" Astarion spoke, and she could hear the twinge of humor he attempted to add into his voice. But it was too weak, too wavering and unsure, but she wouldn't call him out on it, what good would that do?

"Of course," she spoke, her words coming out in a soft, honey-ed whisper, a moment of sweetness despite the bitterness of the situation. "When don't I?" she added, her lips curving into a miniscule smile, though even doing that felt draining to her. He didn't say anything more after that, simply moving to sit down next to her on the edge of the bed, their thighs touching... and that heavy silence returned once more, but it didn't linger for long.

"I'm not some fragile bomb that's ready to go off, you know that, don't you darling?" his words made her head snap toward him, her eyes widening in shock. Out of all the things he could've possibly said, that was certainly the last thing she had expected.

"I-I don't..." She paused, finding her jumbled thoughts to all come crashing down into one another. Was her silence being seen as standoffish? She cleared her throat, looking down at her lap with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry."

The forced laugh that followed from Astarion in response just made that pit feel even worse. "Don't apologize, you did watch me mindlessly stab... him, after all. I think that tends to unsettle-" "It's not like that," she interjected, placing a hand on top of his as it rested on his thigh. "I-I'm not sorry that I see you that way, because I don't I... I'm sorry because I can hardly look you in the eye, o-or know what in the hells to say to you." The heaved sigh that came from her soon after felt like she had just expelled a weight from herself, a weight that was sinking her down into a sea of worry.

"I don't know what to do, to make this... better for you." She muttered weakly, her voice wavering, her thumb mindlessly rubbing the back of his hand.

"Darling, if I don't know really how to feel about it all, I'm not expecting you to... fix it." Astarion spoke, his tone deep and smooth, but thoughtful. "Everything just feels so numb to me, right now. And whether that's a good or bad thing is... hard for me to tell right now."

She felt his hand turn, his cool palm encompassing her warm hand as their fingers entwined together. Their gazes met once more, and the soft background noises of the other patrons of the end faded away.

Astarion then leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against hers. His eyes fell shut, not out of fear or exhaustion but... solace. To feel her there, to take in the warmth that radiated it from her, to just be... loved by her, made just a tiny bit of that hurt lessen.

And that bit of relief, meant more, did more for him than she could ever truly realize.

"But if I do know one thing, it's this, just you... being here, is more than enough for me..." he murmured, and the love that dripped with every word he spoke was enough to move her. "Just... be there, darling."

She squeezed his hand gently in return, feeling a small, but this time, genuine smile finally curve her lips. Things weren't going to be fixed in a day or two, nothing healed that quickly. But, like a plant that's nothing more than a sprout sticking out of its seed, or a pattern of a shirt that was waiting for its seamstress to sow it, all it would need to bloom or become complete was time, patience, and a helping hand...

"If that's what you need," she paused, lifting his hand up to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against his cool knuckles.

"Then that's exactly what I'll do for you..."

~~~

[drabbletron]

Rodimus my sweet bb you don’t need to out do anyone we love you AHHH

Anyways I love the soft side of him you write, he’s so sweet and I just wanna gift him a teddy bear and see his face light up damnit

Love the bonded ‘now I feel your pain’ vibes, I think it would be cute if it went the other way too, since you’re bonded now you two feel the good sensations, and no I don’t mean only nsfw, (though that is a thought to explore hmm) like a deep tissue massage? They normally can’t get them bc of their plating- I imagine he gives his partner a massage while their on their period after learning it helps and is just like “holy PRIMUS this is good” lmao

I'm glad I could do him some justice! He I feel would need a lot of love and for someone to really see him for himself, not the self-centered ass he can be or the guy who isn't Optimus.

I'm sure that sharing sensations could be a thing, but I imagine it happening when the feeling is super intense like agonizing pain, incredible joy, deepest sorrow, especially for an organic and a bot. It may even happen less often because of the difference in species.

Lately I've also been exploring the idea of being able to feel a bot's EM field in the same way one can feel static electricity or the crackling of touching an old pot-belly tv set. I think there's a lot to play with in terms of exploring alien biology here.

I saw this post about how cleaning a computer can be rather intimate if you subscribe to the objectum subculture on the internet (tl;dr: being attracted to inanimate objects like machinery or computers), I was thinking about doing a fic where reader is asked to help clean their bot s/o's inner workings in that same way. It'd be like a sensory play type deal that involves a lot of trust and it could be akin to wire play or almost spark play. Or maybe the bot's s/o has a custom built PC and they walk in on them taking it apart and carefully and oh so delicately cleaning and repairing the insides.

The human doesn't know that this is an intimate thing for them and mayhaps the bot does or does not tell them. Or even it could be something that brings up the topic of other, non-sticky sexual interfacing that they could explore. It could even be non-sexual in the way that cleaning your s/o can be relaxing for them and even yourself.

I'm rambling, but there are so many different ways that could go and stuff like that is even referenced in Alex Milne's Hot Motor Oil and Beast Wars (both have mentions of removing chest plating being erotic to a degree).

[midnight1nk]

okay, cool theory event but since you mention it- we talk a lot about how 4 is affected by the whole thing but- what about 3? How do you think he was affected by the whole- event-virus thing. From what we saw he was barely conscious of what was going on, THOUGH not entirely unconscious which is a scary thought. Like, what do you think, what did he experience there and how could it compare to what 4 got to feel? I don't know how loaded this question is btw.

[your question's the right amount of load, dw about it 👍]

3's role in the whole thing is a lot to think about. Hell, viewing all of IGBP through 3's POV is crazy.

Imagine, one minute you're on a rescue mission to save the idiot from these creepy parasites. Then, by the next, you're being pulled into the strange space by classic model 4, and turned into this:

I'd be confused as hell too.

There are a few things from this theory, we have to establish:

the black goo's host is 4

the red monster's host is Mr. Puzzles

[and we'll leave it at that for other people to ask ;)]

In the events of IGBP, 4 had control of the goo itself but was influenced by a certain narrative, the one Mr Puzzles wanted. It was the red monster corrupting the castle. It was the red monster who pulled 4 back to his PC despite being rescued the first time by 3's speech. 4, just for how he is, surpasses his trauma and yet still feels guilty for it bc in his mind, he was the one who bought the keyboard. he was the one who almost killed his friends. he was the one who almost ended the entire universe.

We all know he was pushed to that point, from stress and insecurities. He didn't mean to do what he did. But seeing from his side, it's understandable how he could blame himself for it.

As for 3, he was only controlled by Mr Puzzles, once again for the sake of the narrative. That being part of the red monster, an obstacle for Meggy and Mario. He wasn't mentally pushed to do anything, he was literally dragged into this situation against his will, why he pleaded with the others to help him.

While 3's body and mind are trying everything to fight against it, 4 was consumed by it. 3 spent minutes under the monster's control, 4 spent at least a week by both parasites. One knew there was a way out of this, the other didn't. And neither of them should take the blame for what was done.

It's absolutely terrifying to think about 3 unable to control himself, how much time has passed. And the insane part of it all:

if it weren't for 3's Youtube Arc, he wouldn't have been able to save 4.

Sure, 3 going through his villain arc isn't what you call fantastic but if it weren't for that, to learn from that experience, 3 wouldn't have understood the pressures 4 was going through. At the beginning of the movie, possessed 4 said that no one understood, and when it seemed all was lost, it was 3 who said that he did. 3 has done what 4 asked for: to be understood.

Ofc right afterward when 3 returned to rescue 4 the second time and was dangled over the Pit. It all relied on 4, 3's life or the perfect video. He could've died or worse, become like Peach. Understandably, 4's been mentally damaged by the goo's negativity and the keyboard's torment, how can he not debate about this? Once again, it was 3 who brought him back to clarity, telling him that they were friends. It's the whole point of it all.

(love did indeed win. platonic love was what saved both of them)

Despite their experiences being different and the choices they have made, there's a level of understanding only they knew. From the pressures of creating content to being possessed in some way. If anyone could reach 4, it would be 3, and vice versa.

thanks for the ask! and for joining the QnA! [link]

[inscnityclub]

Amaru wasn't sure why the other tolerated his brother's behavior when he was doing those modeling gigs for AJ. Didn't married couples stick together like glue, be each other's support system. While Benji was at home, Ludo was out there having fun with God knows who. And now that he knew about this party he attended that Dove was also there, reasons Benny had the photos. The evidence in his hands. "How come, clearly you have valid evidence to back you up. I think you should talk to him, what if he's playing you both. Leaving you here while he has his fun with her." Amaru made sure to say these words in hopes that gives Benny the motivation he needs to ask instead of sweeping things under the rug. He noticed the cold reaction and if Amaru knew any better, Benny was faking disinterest. "Why do you always do that? pretend you don't care, i know you do. Whether he's thankful or not, he got caught but i'm sure he'll tell you some silly excuse and all will be forgiven. Dove is a very pretty woman, i'm sure she can get anyone she wants, clearly she wants my brother and he simply enables that behavior from her. You said it, he mentioned how hot she is." what more proof did Benji need?

He could disagree with Benji's opinion, everyone felt sorry for him. Here he was chasing after someone he could never have, all he could see was the dark figures of people pointing and laughing at him. Amaru ignored it, for now. In this moment, he had Benji where he wanted, where he dreamed for so long to touch and hold. Benji's touch alone set him on fire, his heart leaped and jumped against his chest - was Benji able to feel it? But, he was reminded about that particular night ; the evening where his friend spiked his drink. Though it was harmless since Noel was simply helping him out, Amaru remembered that night light it was yesterday. Taking him away from his friend was easy, barely conscious. Through slurred words and cute hiccups, Amaru took Benji in his arms all the way to his car and drove him to his place, one that no one knew about including his siblings. A private getaway, the one he was hidden for a long time until he traveled to Italy for awhile. Expecting Benji to push away, his arms curled around his neck. Losing himself in those ocean eyes again.

There was no reason to lie, he's always been honest. "I get it if you somehow doubt what happened, and nothing ever happened. You know goal, still and will never achieve it. We got to my place, took you in my arms, helped you out of your clothes and placed you on my bed. I took pics making it seem we did more than just hang out. I just wanted you for one night, i didn't care if you hated me or not. It was my only way to have you alone without my brother breathing down your neck, perhaps i was dumb enough to believe my plan would work. Clearly it didn't, now you're married. You called out to Ludo's name all night too - don't worry i don't have those pictures anymore. If you ever thought i did something more, i didn't. I respected you until you woke up."

It was not fair to talk to Amaru about Dove and Ludovic. This was a topic Benji should discuss with AJ, Cris, or Sofia instead. But talking to Amaru was so easy and comfortable at the same time. Even showing those pictures and videos he found online was a first. He was dealing with those on his own the past hours. ❝I didn't talk to Ludo about it yet. He is still away with AJ but I know for sure that he attended this party.❞ Benji shrugged softly, trying to make it seem like he didn't care much but he cared. ❝Well, he said that Dove saved him and was there for him. He is thankful but he doesn't have feelings for her other than platonic feelings. But he thinks she is hot. Nothing out of the ordinary, I think? You probably find her hot as well.❞ Back in High School, he heard that often about her, and when they were still friends it always made him proud.

But they had their own issue right now. Dove shouldn't be their problem when their feelings were the main problem here. Benji wasn't making things easier for Amaru. ❝I don't pity you.❞ he quickly answered just to make sure Amaru knew that. Because it wasn't pity, it was something else Benji couldn't quite point out. Benji looked into the other man's eyes without wavering. It was like he could lose himself in those dark eyes. He was almost hypnotized which made him lean in to place a sweet kiss on the other's forehead. His hand traced over Amaru's cheek down to the side of his neck. As soon as he felt the other's arms around his waist, Benji leaned into the embrace a little more. Fondly, he ran his hand through Amaru's hair but his blue eyes became a little more serious. ❝It's about that one night.❞ Another first time. He never mentioned this night before to Amaru. ❝Where I was drugged, I mean. What happened after we left the club? Please be honest with me. I'm not asking because I don't trust you, I do. But it, I don't know. It just feels bad not to know what happened and you are the only person who can give me clarity.❞

[moldypoff]

I think I kinda gotta get this off of my chest without getting too deep into it (or else the voices will tell me to not get it out altogether).

I am struggling. Like a lot, like more than I realize anyone my age or anyone in general should struggle with. I think I’m desensitized to the really bad parts of it all (will not disclose those to anyone ever unless they’re a licensed professional) but today I think I’m gonna pump the breaks and say this shouldn’t be my normal. Nor should struggling daily be your normal either.

A big part in why I haven’t gotten help is because when I do it’s usually never the kind that actually helps. Shout-out to my at-school-therapist who’s tried their best to help me but can’t because they’re inexperienced and cannot give me help outside of what the district allows them to help with.

Anyways, in short I don’t want my mental issues to affect my academic performance and relationships anymore.

That’s never going to be as easy as it sounds, but I have goals to reach by the time I graduate and I need to have my shit together to get there. Which starts with tackling with my biggest hindrance to success, my unaddressed mental disabilities.

[designernishiki]

kiryu sitting haruka down for a really important talk and looking nervous but deeply serious about it and when he finally speaks he gives an honest and vulnerable admission that upon much self reflection, as unlikely as it may seem, as shocking as it may come, he is, in fact, gay, and he hopes this doesn’t make her feel any distress or discomfort in-part due to the implication that he likely didn’t have romantic feelings for her mom, he did care very very much for her regardless of labels, and so on and so on. and she lets him give this lengthy emotional confession that goes on for like twenty minutes before he finally goes dead silent anxiously anticipating her response. and she’s just like. uncle kaz I really appreciate you opening up to me like this and I’m really proud of you for accepting yourself for who you are. but me and every other kid at morning glory figured this out like 10 years ago

[fullmetall]

thinking abt hohenheim 2day

[quinnverse]

“I don’t know. Don’t all men need impressing?" She smirked. If the men in her life were anything to go by, it seemed as though men were often akin to children. If they grew bored, they grew restless. If they remained unimpressed, they sought out entertainment in other ways. And, while Belle didn't want to think that he was one of the men who would bore of her so easily, it was hard not to strive to impress him. Even just a little bit.

“Indeed. Though, foolish as he may be, I have a feeling you and Ned would get along. He and Emma were always up to nonsense when we were children. They once conspired to put a toad down my blouse at a garden party. Thankfully, I caught them before they had the chance to execute such a plan."

The thought of her new friend and her darling brother forging an acquaintanceship should've been a welcomed one. Becoming friends with Mister Bolton was a million times better than the boys her brother kept in his company. And yet, the thought of losing precious time with John in favor of Ned struck a surprising amount of jealousy into her heart.

“Would you believe that I’ve been told on multiple occasions that my looks are my only redeemable feature? I had a man once tell me he was willing to ‘look past my bluestocking tendencies due to my exquisite appearance’. The audacity of some men, I tell you. I made sure to step on his feet as many times as possible during that dance."

Her mother had scolded her incessantly that night, but Belle didn't care. If a Duke was bold enough to insult Lady Arabella to her face, then, surely, he was strong enough to tolerate a young woman stomping on his feet. Her dancing slippers were unlikely to injure him, but they'd done enough damage to his pride to satisfy the likes of Belle.

“I find it oddly charming. Any lady would be lucky to earn your affections, Mister Bolton.” It was easy to see why and how her cousin had become so smitten with him. He was most unlike any man she’d ever met and it made her wonder if Americans truly were better off across the pond. Were all American men as articulate and friendly as John Bolton? Or had she merely struck gold on this specific visit?

For a moment, she allowed herself to wonder what it might be like to live in the colonies, to marry a man and grow a family on this side of the globe. She'd always imagined herself living in the country, far from the hubbub of London and the gossip of the ton. Would living in America be something she could tolerate? But before she could dwell on the thought a moment longer, a wave of guilt crashed over her. If anyone was to marry someone like him, it would be Emma. It ought to be Emma. And yet she couldn't ignore the pang of jealousy that ran through her at the idea.

“I hope that whichever lady finds her way into your heart is able to nurture it appropriately. Romantic men are a dying breed in the world, it seems. I can only hope that I will be fortunate enough to find a husband who shares the same sentiments. Or," She continued with a hint of a smile. "At the very least, a man that does not shun me for my mind."

“Oh, yes, he’s quite horrendous. His breath always smells like chewing tobacco and he is terrible at dancing." For a moment, Belle nearly forgot with whom she was speaking. It was so easy to talk to him, so easy to chatter like friends that she almost forgot that she was supposed to be a proper lady.

“Believe me, I would much rather have you at my family’s dinner table than most of the people here. To be quite honest, I’d prefer you over most of my family members.” Letting out a huff, Belle cast her gaze over the crowd again.

“If you had asked me that question mere months ago I might’ve suggested a fake engagement or some similar theatrical façade. But I’m not entirely sure such a thing would work as things stand. Especially not if my mother caught wind of it. She’d be on the next boat to Boston harbor within the week. And I would loathe to have you meet my mother in such a way. Mama can be... quite dramatic. Auntie Claire was always the pragmatic one. Though, that's not to say she didn't have her moments. Emma's defiant nature didn't come from Uncle John, that's for certain."

Benjamin grinned, his brow creasing incredulously. "Do I look as though I need impressing?" he asked. Amused, he assured her, "If that were truly the case, Miss Blydon, I would've stalked off ages ago. I can scarcely stand false flattery and accomplishments."

Belle mirrored his smile. "Of which I have very little. Especially if you ask my brother Ned."

"Brothers are quite foolish, you know," Benjamin replied. Gaze softening, he pressed her hand on his arm. "If I have any say in it, I feel your accomplishments far outweigh anyone else's here. Not many women, after all, would have made quips about piss to a gentleman."

Her lemonade remark from earlier, though perhaps long forgotten to her mind, made Benjamin chuckle as they headed out onto the terrace.

A sage look overcame Belle's features, and she canted her head. "So, you do believe in love, Mister Bolton?" she asked. "I thought most men saw love as nothing more than a fantasy. Although, I suppose for most men infatuation with the female form is easier to come by."

Benjamin hummed. "I do believe in love, yes," he replied. "And although you're not wrong about male predispositions, per se, I can't say I share in that sentiment. Beauty, after all, will wither away and die, but love and affection? If it's truly real, it will last forever."

Meeting her eyes, he flushed. "Of course, it's possible that I've spent far too much time reading poetry about great, romantic love. But surely, you agree that with so many stories in existence, there must be a precedent? Some kernel of truth?"

To his surprise, Belle grasped at his arm, appearing a bit startled by her own actions.

"N-Not to be too forward, of course," she stammered, "but I fear if you abandon your post by my side now, I might be swallowed whole by the beast that is Mister Ridley. He's been pining for both Emma and I since we were in nappies. Or, rather, pining for a spot at our family's dining table."

"Mr. Ridley?" Benjamin asked, scanning the room for said beast. "Well, that just won't do, now will it? Because heaven forbid he take away my spot at your coveted dining room table." Sparing her a crooked grin, if only to show his jest, he lowered toward her before softly declaring, "But then, perhaps there is merit to this. What can I do to make him believe you are taken, and thus, completely off the marriage mart?"

[zoppzoop]

GAAHAHHHHH

[allthoseotherworlds]

Oh, for anybody who remembers my old blog and my complaints there about the mystery condition- I still do not know what it is, but I did see a physiotherapist and apparently I am at least kind of hypermobile. I don't properly pass the beighton test I think? But she is giving me exercises to help stabilize my shoulder, back, and hips and we'll see where that goes.

(The mystery symptoms are dizziness, miscellaneous mild to moderate pain, and episodes of speech difficulty and uncontrolled muscle jerking which seem to be brought on by changes in temperature or posture. My heart rate and blood pressure stay relatively normal I think, so although it sounds a lot like dysautonomia when I describe it, it probably is not POTS.)

Anyways, it's good to have something else to consider I guess. I sort of assumed that unless you had dislocated something and/or could do the finger and hand parts of the Beighton test, you couldn't have issues with hypermobility, but apparently maybe that's not true?

[mental-jhinstability]

JhinThresh server encourages my High Noon obsession, more at noon

Another ramble by a gay cowboy, about gay cowboys, for my gay (cowboys in spirit) friends.

Some NSFW, nothing directly explicit but there's some level of detail. OOC as always but I've been informed I'm based so... hopefully it's based this time, too?

This specifically is about them being drunk. To start, I headcanon Jhin as an emotional drunk (imagine him getting all emotional about his horse loving him too and practically crying in front of a probably sober Thresh who finds this adorable and jealousy-inducing, because Jhin should giving HIM all that attention) and Thresh as a more relaxed drunk--as in he gets a little more loose-lipped. This will also involve my bartender High Noon Jax, because why shouldn't it. We all know these idiots cannot do anything about their feelings without being beaten over the head with a lamp.

More of another "things I wanna write but probably won't" than a headcanon ramble, but whatever. Jhin comes in to the bar, and Jax already has his first drink (of four) ready by the time he's even at the bar. And, of course, being the weirdo bartender; Jax is already asking him if he's asked out Thresh yet. Giving advice, teasing him. Jhin doesn't respond much, just finishes his drinks and gets out as quick as possible. But now there's an issue; he's a bit drunk and now he has Thresh on his mind. Given that I said he's a more emotional drunk earlier, this is a much bigger issue than he thinks it is. He just heads to the barn, because really what else is there to do when you're a drunk cowboy (aside from fucking and/or killing)?

Thresh is there. He watches as Jhin cries over his horse, talks to it. He's jealous for a few minutes. The horse is getting all this attention, and not him? And then Jhin asks his horse what he should do about his “weird feelings” for a certain man. He doesn't mention Thresh's name, but now Thresh is even MORE jealous. Who's this other guy stealing his victim slash weird crush? Unforgivable. I haven't really imagined much past this, and I'm no good with smut, but Thresh probably gets a little drunk himself, reveals himself to Jhin, who is now cagey and cold to Thresh due to not wanting to admit the guy he loves was him, and then Thresh fucks him because he's jealous. Maybe involving a riding crop. And Thresh's chain/rope/thing. And possible admission of feelings. Who knows.

And a second part… flirting. Their flirting is really weird, because they don’t. They just do a LOT of homoerotic touches and things for each other. Both of them realise this, but neither rationalise it correctly and think the other doesn’t think it’s homoerotic. They think they’re enemies/rivals/begrudging friends, despite both of them feeling attached to the other. I went over the physical homoerotic touch aspects in both of my previous rambles, but I guess I’ll go for other ways here.

Thresh tends to braid Jhin’s horse’s hair the same way he always does it. He doesn’t do a particularly good job and Jhin always scolds him and says “that’s not how you do it, you fool” etc etc until he’s giving Thresh a lecture on how to braid hair. This goes on until Jhin ends up just grabbing Thresh’s hands and “guiding him” (aka just doing the whole thing for him) through it. Thresh knows full well how to braid hair after the first time; but he continues to do it just so he has Jhin’s full attention. As I’ve mentioned he cannot rationalise this in a normal way (“This is torture because I’m taking his time and energy away from more important things, to make him easier to break”) and neither can Jhin. He likes teaching Thresh but he’s not sure why (it’s because he likes feeling in control, as well as the feeling of having Thresh as a captive audience) and instead chooses to think it’s just because he likes being correct. It’s flirting, just nonverbally.

On the same note, Jhin tends to make an effort to argue with Thresh over things. Anything, regardless of how monotonous or how pointless the argument is. He likes getting an anger reaction out of Thresh. He finds it hot (which he mistakes for just being an adrenaline addict; they’re not all buddy-buddy so he figures it’s only natural to get worked up by your enemy/rival getting angry at you). He gets genuinely upset when Thresh doesn’t react or argue back or even concede. He wants something other than constant teasing or silence, and when he doesn’t get that something, he gets a bit fussy and usually ends up touching Thresh in some way to rile him up. Sexually or non-sexually, it doesn’t matter. It gets a reaction and he gets to touch Thresh, so it’s a win-win.

If we combine the two, drunk flirting. Jhin gets emotional, so with enough provoking from Thresh usually you can get a flirty comment—albeit vague and a bit unorthodox—from him. He still tries to maintain a mask of indifference or hatred towards him when drunk but he falls on his face and ends up letting a few things, whether they be emotions or words, slip. Thresh, being loose-lipped, is usually the one to end up very explicitly flirting with Jhin when drunk. Compliments his body, calls him cute and pathetic, says he wants to hear him scream. He, of course, has some level of plausible deniability with these comments when sober, but when drunk he doesn’t tend to defend himself. He never admits it’s flirting, but he’ll not say no. Oh also they both get horny when drunk so if they’re later in to their homoerotic rivalry they probably fuck. Up to you.

Also… please read the tags of this post. There’s a few little related side tangents in there, if you’re interested.

[grimandghoulish]

.

[sugarwarachan]

sex pollen troubles - ft. k. bakugou

summary: prohero!Bakugou gets hit with a sex quirk. too bad his roommate hates him—right?

wc: 1.8k

pairing: prohero!Katstuki Bakugou x roommate!reader

content warnings: MDNI, Bakogou has a roommate because his therapist tells him to, fem!reader is an investigative journalist, gratuitous use of Ace (hello gilmore girls fans) idiot Katsuki, pining Katsuki, fingerless gloves make an appearance sorry not sorry, making out, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names like baby, pretty girl, princess, breeding but only if you squint

a/n: word vomited this out in less than 24 hrs

He’s praying you don’t pick up.

“Bakugou?” You sound annoyed, a little suspicious even.

He never calls you.

“Ace.” You hate that nickname, but the thought of saying your actual name in the desperate growl that is his voice right now makes his head spin. “I need - fuck - are you home right now?”

Sex quirks are a dime a dozen these days. He’s been hit with a few before, simple one that are usually pretty easy to shake. (He still hates the premature ejaculate memory, though, coming home with his boxers stiff and an image of you spread out on his bed playing like a film in his head. He hadn't been able to look you in the eyes for weeks.)

He’s never been hit with one as strong as this. The second the mist hit his nostrils he was huffing up the scent of vanilla and citrus and strong black coffee, just the way you like it, before he realized what was happening, the villain ripping down the street in the opposite direction while arousal hit him like a truck.

Bakugou's practically doubled over talking to you now, the ache in his dick throbbing in time with his fucking heartbeat.

“Yeah, I’m home.” Even annoyed you sound like heaven. “What’s going on? You don’t sound like yourself.”

He barks out a laugh, and before he knows it, he's telling you the truth. “Got hit with a sex quirk. A big one.”

Your breath bitches slightly on the other line. He’s pretty sure his cock jumps at the sound.

“And I - " need you right fucking now - “fuck - I can’t call anyone else.”

It has to be you. He’s got women he could call, sure, anyone who might want to get into a pro hero’s pants, but it has to be you for a reason he doesn’t want to look at too closely.

You’re silent for a beat, before you say, “Send me a pin. I’ll come get you.”

He hated you at first. Always talking his ear off about every fucking thing, bringing up articles that remind you of cases you're covering—it was like living with Deku dialed up to 11.

But what he hated even worse was when you stopped talking. When you realized he wasn’t actually gonna come around and be nice to you, when you figured out, oh fuck, he’s actually just an angry prick, and left him alone.

One day he could count on constant chatter when he was back from patrol, the next, nothing at all. You even switched up your schedule so he barely saw you, a fact he didn’t tell his court-ordered therapist because he was supposed to be getting better at being around other people, not worse.

He hates remembering this now with his dick hard as steel and weeping from the tip like he’s fucking 15. The alley is secluded, thank fuck, so no one can see him shaking and groaning, forearms braced on the wall in front of him, head hanging down like a panting dog. He can barely move; every brush of his pants against his erection like a live wire to the brain.

By the time you pull up—five minutes, forty six seconds later, he counted—he’s so frayed and tense that the minute he sees your face, he shouts, “Took you fucking long enough."

Your face shutters closed the way it always does around him, and he wants to fucking die.

“Fuck, Ace, I’m sorry - it’s just, I’m fucking miserable right now - "

“Why did you call me, Katsuki?”

It’s a mistake to look you in the eye. His restraint is a razor’s edge at this point, and seeing your beautiful face is too much. You've always been pretty, but the light shining on your soft hair is convincing him he can write fucking poetry all of a sudden.

“You know why,” he grits out.

You step forward, vanilla and citrus and coffee flooding his nose.

“No, I don’t. You act like you fucking hate me half the time and ignore me the rest.” You scrape a hand across your face in frustration. “And then you call me sounding like that. Why wouldn't I be confused?"

“I want you.” It’s out of his mouth in a flash, and he knows it’s the right thing to say by the way your shoulders relax. “I’m a fucking asshole, I know it. I’m not good at feelings, baby, I'm sorry, but I want you so fucking bad it’s like I could break my teeth over it. It has to be you, Ace, fuck, I’m sorry, it can’t be anyone else - "

You shut him up your mouth, your lips locking into his as both of your noses bump against each other. He doesn’t care; he just needs you as close to him as he can get you. It’s better than anything he imagined, finally touching you, finally giving in to the attraction that’s dogged him ever since you walked into his life.

You taste like coffee and a little bit of that strawberry lip gloss he loves so much. He licks into the seam of your mouth and relishes the shiver that goes through your body.

“Like that, baby?” He breaks away, nosing at your jaw, nipping at the juncture of your throat. That makes you gasp. “You smell so fucking good here.” He jerks his hips, hisses through his teeth as his cock jumps in his pants, pulsing with need.

“Let me,” he hears you say, and you’re tugging his pants open to get your hand around him. The second your fingers wrap around him his eyes roll up in his head. He could cum just from this, he realizes.

“Of course you’d have a pretty dick,” you say with a look of annoyance, and he’s not entirely sure what to say to that besides puff up his chest. You laugh, and it’s almost fond, and goddammit he wants you more than he’s ever wanted anything else -

With a growl, he pulls your hand away and backs you up against the wall, peppering kisses down your neck. The whines he’s pulling from your mouth is making everything in his life worth it. He’d fight a thousand fucking villains if it meant this, fingering the seam of your panties under your little skirt as you cry out for more.

“Wear this for me?”

“Like fucking hell I did,” you retort.

“Sure thing, princess.” He runs the pad of two fingers over the soaking wet seam of your panties. A feral grin passes over his face as your thighs tremble and press together. “This just happened to you all on your own?”

He roughly pulls your panties to the side to gather up the slick at your entrance, pushing your hips apart and settling himself between them.

“You’ve gotta come first, pretty girl.” You like when he calls you pet names; he’s been watching the way your skin breaks down out in goosebumps each time. It’s a like a drug being this close to you, making you feel this good. “The second I’m inside ya I’m gonna blow my fucking load so be good and come for me, yeah?”

The rough material of his fingerless gloves rubs against your clit as he stuffs two fingers in your pussy. Your little hole sucks him in greedily as you whine and buck against him.

“Harder, Kats, please - you won’t fucking break me - "

He adds another finger to stretch you out, keeping his palm rocking against your pubic bone with every grind. You’re fluttering around his fingers, whimpers echoing off the walls in the alley.

“That’s it, baby, there you go. Fuck, yeah, you like me stuffing this pretty pussy full?” You dig your nails into his scalp as you hold onto him for dear life, whimpers ratcheting up to moans and cut-off screams as he starts to feel your cunt clamp down hard on him.

You moan his name against his neck as you cum. “Just needed to think about me stuffing you full?” He can’t help but smirk, which quickly turns into a hissing groan when your hand finds him again and positions him right at your core.

“I could say the same for you,” you smirk, rolling your hips and coating the head of his cock in the slick of your orgasm. He chokes on his spit, bracing one forearm on the wall behind you, his free hand stilling your hips in place.

“Lift me up,” you pout.

“Didn’t know you were bossy.”

“Didn’t think you would like it,” you shoot back, rolling down onto his cock and taking an inch of him inside you. “This position’s better, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is, you devil woman.” He can barely think. “Baby, I don’t - god fucking damn it - I don’t have any - "

“I’m on birth control and I’m clean.”

“Same. Clean, too, I mean.” He’s rambling. He never rambles. “I’ve got my check-up stats in my phone if you’d like to see them.”

You laugh, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard in his entire life.

“Can I kiss you?”

It takes him aback, but he’s been dying to know what you taste like since he met you, honestly.

“Yeah, pretty girl. You can kiss me.” He nips at your mouth and laughs at your pout when he pulls away. “Let me get all the way inside ya though first, huh?”

He feeds you his dick inch by inch, clenching his teeth at the way you squirm and plead for more. You’re slippery and warm, your cunt making obscene squelching noises with every rock of his hips.

With one final thrust, he’s seated up to the hilt, balls slapping against the meat of your thighs and ass.

“So fucking perfect,” he moans in your ear. “All for me - just for me, isn’t that right, Ace?”

Your head jerks up and down in affirmation.

“Say it, pretty girl. Say you’re fucking mine. Tell me how much you like my dick getting this pussy nice and tight. Bet I can get her to scream again, huh?”

He pinches your clit between two fingers. You jerk in his arms.

“Close, princess? Like it a little mean?”

He rocks his his up so he’s dragging the head of his cock across your g spot, over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head and your breathing gets shallower, shorter.

“Please please don’t fucking stop, ohmygodohmygod feels so fucking good, Kats- "

Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice and all rhythm flies out the window. He grabs the meat of your hips and fucks up into you roughly, shooting thick ropes of cum against your cervix.

The creamy sticky ring at the base of his cock when he pulls out is probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

He looks up at you, sees the appreciative gleam in your eye. You're turned on by that, too.

“Can we do this again when we’re home?” he asks. “Maybe after I’ve made you dinner?”

The smile you return is like the sun. “We better.”