#That they hold all the leverage here. They're in control of the situation.

[sophieswundergarten]

Thinking about how painfully vulnerable it is for a character to scream "Please, stop hurting them!" because it usually means they are helpless to do anything else

[obsidianpen]

Wondering if we'll ever get to the point in No Glory where Voldemort is capable of actually valuing Harry's wellbeing over his own/his own desires, because that feels like the next necessary step in terms of healing/making their relationship functional. I'm actually a pretty big proponent that this will probably express itself by Voldemort refusing to have sex with Harry, because of how damaging and traumatizing he realizes it is for him.

The consent problem here, naturally, is that Harry can't meaningfully consent to anything Voldemort asks of him, since Voldemort has too much leverage over him and it provides a perverse incentive structure where Harry can't realistically say no (as exemplified with the most recent chapter). Therefore, literally the only ethical remaining action for Voldemort to take is to always say no, even when Harry is nominally pressuring him to say yes, simply because he is unable to trust that Harry's yes is ever actually a yes rather than a product of the constant threat Voldemort has kept him under.

This is probably the next major emotional revelation, and one that I expect to be coming fairly soon given how the most recent chapter played out (very explicitly showing Harry giving nominal consent to something he didn't want in a terrible situation where he wasn't free to say no and have it be respected). 'Ruination' shattered much of Voldemort's sense of self, forcing him to come to terms with exactly what kind of monster he'd been all along, and 'A Promise' holds the opportunity to shatter Voldemort's illusions about their situation and Harry's true ability to consent (or lack thereof).

This actually sets up a very nice exploration of morality and emotional growth, wherein all the things that Voldemort had convinced himself were unnecessary weaknesses (just treatment for your enemies, restraint, and yes, even mercy) are actually things we do for ourselves to keep from feeling the exact way he's likely feeling right now. At our most selfish, they're not things we do for other people, they're things we do for us.

(I'd actually sent in a previous ask saying that No Glory actually reminds me of the Good Place, weirdly enough, and I think this is why.)

this has actually started to come up a bit already; V isn’t entirely unaware of this situation in terms of consent, even if he hasn’t fully wrapped his head around it yet. From the chapter ‘closer’ (had to go find it to make sure I wants being delusional):

‘Harry grinned, a little delirious as he made yet another bold move. He grabbed Voldemort by the chin and kissed him, hard. He couldn’t tell if the moan that followed was his own or not. He didn't care either way. Harry wanted him closer, closer.

He felt in control. He felt powerful. 

Everything stopped. 

There must have been much to yet learn about the connection between their souls, because even though Harry had initiated this, it was clearly Voldemort who chose to end it. There was a heartbeat of stillness in which that light vanished, the same moment in which Voldemort severed their kiss. His grasp on Harry’s hair moved to his neck, and it became painfully tight.

No. 

Voldemort did not say the word, but Harry could hear it resonate clearly in his mind. One word, and then Voldemort hurled Harry away from him, throwing him by the neck with such force that Harry flew backwards, slamming against the table. The back of it collided with his back, and then he fell, landing hard on his knees. He coughed when he landed; Voldemort’s grasp on his throat when he threw him was short, but violent. 

“You think you are in control of this, of me ,” Voldemort hissed. “You have no idea what you are doing… of what you even want to be doing.”

Harry looked up to him, and though his magic was a wall of angry black, there were now unmissable flecks of gold. Harry, still on his knees, smirked. “I think I do,” he said hoarsely. 

“You do not,” Voldemort seethed. His aura was a combination of rage and something very close to panic, possibly even fear. “This ends, now.” His face became stonelike, but Harry could sense the misery in him. He inclined his head at him slightly. “Goodbye, Harry.”’

[limey-self-inserts]

Hi may I offer you a bribe for more Ascot and Sebastian I'm thinking about them a normal amount OwO Sebastian letting his guard down, gaining new hope, new trust in a human while Ascot's humanity is slowly but irreversably chipped away and they navigate this new existence with his help --- totally normal amount <3

WAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH

god I'm. mmmmhnhnhg. not only am I weak for hands but story-telling in hands.

because yes Sebastian has no reason to trust (other) humans, they've only ever been a source of misery for him for the past. 10 years? 12 years? ever since he got framed and then Urbanshade scooped him up to become their little testing ground. it's a debate on how much he sees himself as human or monster, how much of himself is left to be human, how much he just rejects the idea because of how he's been treated. and now the expendables are down here and they're just interested in doing Urbanshade's work so sure, he'll go ahead and use that as an extra way of collecting data to leverage his way to freedom.

only not every expendable is a prisoner seeking freedom. the first expendables were sent down 6hrs after lockdown, and the prison recruitment began 2 days after. Ascot is one of the unfortunate ones to go down first.

they're still human. they're still Untrustworthy. Sebastian's done with caring about other people when no-one cared about him. he doesn't like that Ascot responds to him with concern. he's here to do business, not get worried over too many years too late

it's the fact that they respect the boundaries he puts down with scowls and snaps and thin veils of business-talk. that starts getting under the scales

(more rambles and a drabble excerpt below!)

Sebastian knows powerlessness. it's all he's known for about a decade. every expendable down here is in a powerless situation and for the first time he has Power, from knowledge, from physical capability (and also the triple barrelled shotgun). it's hard not to hold that over the expendables' heads, including Ascot's. the moment they reach out to him, there's a rejection because for a moment they might be considering him on equal footing to them and for Sebastian that's a loss of power all over again. he rejects them for that, and rejects touch for the reminder of boundaries broken over and over again.

the humans around him have always had the position of power over the 'monsters'. as he starts seeing Ascot slip further down from 'human' to 'monster', the footing becomes more unequal. but with the time around them, with the experience of having this human respecting him and being responsive and just - not only is there a smidgen of trust, there's a smidgen of understood experience as he watches them struggle.

neither of them asked for this.

he's in the position of power that the scientists were in when they cut him apart and put him back together and changed him. only he can't control what's happening to Ascot. neither of them can stop the changes, only delay them through keeping Ascot alive for longer. the least he can do is take their hand and go "you're not as alone in this as you think you are".

they may both be monsters in the end but they manage to hold together more humanity than any of the humans that put them in this situation.

but also because of the beautiful bribe, I'm gonna throw in some writing thoughts because yes:

-

Those definitely hadn't been there the last time he'd seen the little sardine, now apparently deciding to live up more to their nickname. Sebastian tilted their chin back and to the side, leaning down closer to the table. Two sets of three slits marred the sides of Ascot's throat, and prodding one open with a claw revealing the feathery insides of gill filters.

Not at all unlike the ones under Sebastian's scarf.

As he withdrew with a snap, the slits vibrated, a struggling inhalation of a fish left on dry land. Empty eyes began to clarify with focus, before widening with panic. Ascot jolted, their body shuddering, thin breaths passing through open lips. Their writhing nearly tumbled them off the table, straight into Sebastian's arm, and he struggled to heft them into a firmer grip.

He knew this feeling. He remembered this moment. Only for him it'd come with leather straps and a useless oxygen mask sealed to his face.

The next room over had some containment tubes, empty of subjects - a testing laboratory. Hauling Ascot over his shoulder, Sebastian slithered into the room and up to one of the tubes, sticking a hand in and lapping at the liquid within. Saltwater. The regular stuff surrounding Hadal. Good.

He dumped Ascot into the tube.

Their panic only intensified, and they struck out at the glass tube sides, words lost to streams of bubbles. A horrified stare met his firm gaze as he pressed his hands to the tube as well.

"You need to breathe through your mouth," he said. "The gills will filter out the water. Breathe through your mouth, slowly."

More thrashing. They attempted to break for the surface but Sebastian shook his head, knocking the sides of the tube to get their attention back.

"You're not going to drown, idiot, unless you make yourself. Breathe. Mouth. Slow."

Because why the hell not, he started to mimic what he wanted them to do. Open mouth, slow inhalation, slow exhalation. Ascot watched, and opened their mouth again.

Slowly, slowly. The gills twitched and parted with each 'breath' out. They sank lower into the tube, gaze fixed on Sebastian, meeting each of his breaths. Finally, finally, he let out a low sigh. Resting his forehead on the glass, he hummed out a small low note of relief.

"Good job," he muttered. "You did better than I did." Though no-one had actually told him how, when he'd done it.

A tank of saltwater and a room of scientists with note-pads. No-one batting an eye as Sebastian begged uselessly for help, feeling his insides twist and throat burn and managing to cough underwater. He imagined the room hadn't even heard him, the only sound being pen on paper.

Tonk

Glancing up, he saw Ascot with their forehead against his, on the other side of the glass. Their eyes were full of concern, that damn soft concern. One of their hands mirrored Sebastian's, splayed out against the tube wall, palm-almost-to-palm.

"It's fine," Sebastian muttered. He was pretty sure fish didn't have tear ducts anyway.

[avacadokin]

Pssst I think you should write that fucked up fitpac thing

aughhhhhhhhhhhh fuck but im literally in the middle of writing another fitpac smut rn and ive got class, so instead im just gonna dump my ideas here and hopefully come back to them later

ok uh fuck pac uses his control over fit's mech dick (he made it after all) to overload fit with pleasure in purgatory to the point he cant fucking move at all, trapping him and taking him out of the fight until his 5 hours are up in purgatory.

or fit just fantasizing about how pac could do that, at any time just take advantage of his past trust and reduce him down to a pathetic moaning mess, taking him back to past encounters in 2b2t, how he successfully fought them off back then but wishing he wouldn't win for pac

fit going out to hunt, ambushing tubbo or some other blue team member not to realize that pac was there, killing the other blue but getting so low and his armor so broken he's completely at pac's whim, trying to run and falling horribly

fit getting called "big daddy" condescendingly by pac, just to rub it in his face how far he's fallen

a big fight between both blue and green ending with them being the only two left, covered in quickly drying blood of their friends and enemies (though at this point what's the difference?)

circling each other like starved dogs

ripping and tearing into each other pulling and scratching at anything they can reach when they finally collide

pac using the sharp hard edges of his prosthetic to kick fit wherever is closest, fit biting hard on his other knee to remind him how he lost his first

pac disconnecting fit's prosthetic arm, or just disabling it, he's repaired it enough times to know how to break it easily

tearing away his weapons and clothes, enabling some fun features he added like auto-lube and vibration before fucking fit on his own hand

pac hastily (he wants this to hurt) preps himself with fit's hand (slapping away the flesh one whenever it gets close) before shoving it back inside fit

if his prosthetic arm still had any feeling left in it it would burn from being trapped against the dirt beneath fit and from the angle his wrist must be at to get his fingers anywhere near his prostate (pac wishes it still had feeling)

pac getting fed up with the interference from fit's working hand, so he rearranges himself to pin it under his prosthetic leg, hoping the rough edges leave cuts and bruises, marking fit's entire body as his

then he sinks down onto fit's cock in one smooth motion (only lightly hampered by the blood dripping its way down from somewhere, pain is pleasure at this point so he doesn't care)

fit's hips buck up at the sensation, lifting pac up with him (the knowledge that he has so throughly conquered someone so strong does things to pac's brain)

one of pac's hands is busy restraining fit and acting as leverage for pac to fuck himself on fit's cock, but the other, pac brings up to the top of fit's bald head and scratches a bloody path from there, to his cheeks, over his pecs, and down his abs before resting atop pac's dick

pac gathers the pre-cum, blood and who knows what else that's settled there, before smearing it along a messy path up to fit's neck, where he just holds as he rides fit

when he feels fit cum inside him he doesn't stop, pac just grips even tighter onto fits throat, praying he's cutting off his airway as he rides to completion

then idk maybe they kill each other so they dont have to clean up, maybe they clean up and apologize and its terribly sweet for the situation they're in

[sunflowerdigs]

Tbh, in my ideal ending, Roman gets out of WR and starts his own thing (possibly with Gerri) but I actually think there is a distinct possibility that Roman not only ends up back in but also ends up being the pick for CEO. Here's why.

As Frank pointed out in 4x04, Logan was CEO for so long because he started the company. The board didn't really have a choice. Logan held all of the power (and even when he didn't, he intimidated people into thinking he did). His leadership style was despotic but that worked based on how he came into power - starting WR was a dogfight. He trained his children (particularly Kendall and Shiv) to understand and take power accordingly.

However, the kids' situation is different - even if they want to "take" power, they can't because the board is voting for CEO. And that begs the question - will the board really want to empower a despot like Logan or will they be looking for a leader who is more...collaborative?

Succession is about hunger for power, more than anything. Obviously, Logan's style of leadership brought in a lot of money (and Kendall will likely remind the board of that) but it didn't allow anyone but Logan to have much power. If the board is voting on CEO, I think that there is a distinct possibility that they're going to pick someone who allows the board to hold onto as much power as possible and who will serve their interests, rather than a tyrant.

In 2x05, Nan Pierce only insisted on Shiv being CEO after Shiv fucked up at dinner. She claimed it was because Shiv was a woman with Pierce's political views, but it was really because Shiv was clearly green, impetuous, and easy to control, and Nan's family planned on retaining board seats. Nan knew that Shiv would be easy to manipulate and she was right - Shiv proved it in 4x01 with that 10 billion dollar offer. I think there was a reason Succession reminded us of the Pierce deal from 2x05 in episode 1, despite Pierce playing little role in the season overall. It was to remind us that people don't like to cede power when they don't have to.

For these reasons, I think it's possible that Roman's show of "weakness" at the funeral (indeed, his shows of "weakness" over the course of the show) could actually give him an advantage with the board over Kendall and Shiv. In an ironic twist, losing everything to become Logan might backfire spectacularly for Shiv and Kendall because the board simply may not want to replace one tyrant with another. Particularly if a non-family member of the board (Gerri) is guaranteed a position of direct influence over the new CEO if the CEO is Roman.

(And yes, it's in Gerri's best interest to continue working with Roman. She doesn't trust Kendall or Shiv. She doesn't quite trust Roman, but she knows him, his strengths and his weaknesses. And Roman listens to her (as recently as 4x07, he wanted advice), so with Roman in charge, she has influence. Additionally, with Roman out, her retirement leverage vanishes - Kendall may be willing to let her release the dickpics and sue Roman; Shiv would definitely let her do it. No hundreds of millions for Gerri and she's in court for however long Roman can afford to be. Better to stay in power and then cash out with her own narrative in a few years).

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Evan Peters, a name synonymous with captivating performances, stepped into the bustling Kohl’s department store one sunny afternoon, carrying a pair of khaki pants that had recently become a source of mild frustration. Despite his fame from roles in "American Horror Story" and various feature films, here he was in a quintessential scenario—standing in line to return a pair of unworn trousers. As he quietly observed the array of shoppers around him, he felt an odd mix of excitement and anxiety; he was like any other shopper, yet he knew that today’s simple task would soon transform into something far more memorable.

When it was finally his turn at the counter, he approached the sales clerk, a young woman whose eyes widened slightly in recognition. “Hi there! I need to return these,” Evan stated with his trademark charm, holding out the khakis. He explained that while they looked fine, they simply weren’t what he had envisioned when he bought them. The clerk nodded along, maintaining a polite smile as she gently asked, “Do you have the receipt?”

A flicker of disbelief crossed Evan’s face, quickly turning into a sheepish grin. “Uh, I don’t have it with me,” he stammered, suddenly feeling like a regular guy rather than the celebrity he was. The clerk remained unfazed as she began typing on her computer, now used to the various scenarios playing out at her station. However, what happened next was something Evan could never have anticipated.

With a few clicks, she pulled up a paparazzi photograph that left him momentarily speechless: there he was, wearing the exact khaki pants he was attempting to return at a recent celebrity function, surrounded by friends and grinning widely. It was a shocking revelation—evidence of his choice, laid bare for all to see. The juxtaposition was both absurd and amusing, and Evan felt a tight knot of embarrassment form in his stomach. Here he stood, a person accustomed to red carpets and flashing cameras, caught in the everyday reality of retail policies.

“That’s me!” he chuckled, the bewilderment morphing into something lighter. “But I swear they're unworn! I promise!” he insisted, his voice rising with the hope of convincing her. Still, the clerk remained steadfast, not betraying any sign of being starstruck. Instead, she continued to adhere to the policies set forth by her employer. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as Evan tried to navigate this small yet obnoxious hiccup in his celebrity life.

“I need to speak to a manager,” he declared, trying to regain control over the situation. As he requested the higher authority, he felt an internal debate taking shape—what could he possibly say that would work? He briefly entertained thoughts of leveraging his celebrity status, though he was well aware that every regular customer had the same right to voice their frustrations.

Seconds later, the manager—a genial middle-aged man with a knowing smile—approached, exuding the calm demeanor that usually accompanies someone well-versed in the art of conflict resolution. “Hello, Mr. Peters! How can I assist you today?” he inquired, clearly aware of who stood before him. Evan seized the opportunity, fully embracing the moment. “I’m just trying to make a simple return, but apparently, having a celebrity face doesn’t help when you don’t have a receipt.”

The manager chuckled softly while gesturing for Evan to elaborate further. As Evan relayed the peculiar circumstances of his attempt to return the pants, he couldn’t help but notice the mix of amusement and disbelief flicker across the manager’s face. "I must say, this is quite an unusual situation," the manager admitted, acknowledging the absurdity with a warm grin.

“Do you know who I am?” Evan asked, half-smirking as he attempted to still weave humor into the fabric of the conversation—both figuratively and literally. The manager nodded, his expression still friendly. “Yes, Mr. Peters, but our policy requires a receipt for returns regardless of who you are. I hope you understand.”

Evan sighed, a playful smile escaping despite the frustration rising in his chest. The reality suffocated any lingering allure of celebrity; here, he had fallen into the snares of corporate policy, as everyday as anyone else. The exchange felt surreal, an amalgamation of the humdrum and the extraordinary converging for an ultimately mundane outcome. In that moment, he realized that temporary setbacks did not discriminate between Hollywood glam and retail practicality.

As he exited the store, khaki pants still in hand, Evan reflected on the encounter. What began as a simple task morphed into an unintended comedy of errors, blending the daily experiences of a celebrity with the unyielding rules of retail. With the sun shining overhead, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. If nothing else, life had a way of keeping him grounded, even in the most unexpected ways.

reading these after edibles is an experience

[opinions-about-tiaras]

I am... unsure that "we are upset that you guys didn't use your genetic status as magical supermen to stop us, the Muggles, from doing all sorts of wars and atrocities to each other" would be a real winning argument on the part of the Muggles here.

"We spent all this time murdering each other and you could have stopped it!"

"You... wish we had declared war on you and conquered you? Like you want to be ruled by us as Wizard-Kings? I thought you didn't like our society and how we ran it, you seem pretty outraged by it and now you want to be subject to it?"

"No, I mean, not that, just that you'd... you know, stopped the many atrocities and wars you've witnesses and stood by doing nothing about as they unfolded. With your powerful magic."

"You guys traditionally don't like being stopped when you're hell-bent on murdering each other. Fair enough, neither do we. That's not something we can 'magic' away. We can mind-control your leaders and transmute your weapons into flowers and murder just about anyone we want with unstoppable death magic you have no defense against, of course. Is that what you propose? That we be the unaccountable arbiters of life and death from the shadows?"

"I mean, not the UNACCOUNTABLE arbiters of life and death. Couldn't we integrate you into existing systems of international order?"

"Sure. Now we're subject to those same systems. Have those systems proven especially adept at preventing wars and atrocities? You can't even get the UN to agree on a functionally meaningless cease-fire resolution relating to Gaza, you think they could agree on the best way to deploy our magic into such a situation? And if they can't, then we're right back to 'you've failed to stop wars and atrocities.'"

"Well, but everyone knows the UN is a joke. What if you were fully integrated into the nation-states you live in rather than holding yourselves apart as your own nation? Then those nation-states could leverage your talents, and you'd be accountable to their governments."

"Mm-hmm. Do you think the situation in, say, Ukraine, would be dramatically improved by Ukrainian wizards, their talents being leveraged by the government to whom which they are accountable to in Kyiv, stalking and being stalked by Russian wizards, THEIR talents being leveraged by the government to whom they are accountable to in Moscow?"

"Uh... well, I mean, but you could do humanitarian aid, couldn't you? Magicking food and water and medical supplies into places they're needed?"

"You've moved the goalposts a very long way now. But, yes. Absolutely we could, and probably should. That's something you guys are capable of doing on your own, though. We can cover for your complete incompetence, cowardice, and general unwillingness in this regard, but isn't that just another way of admitting you're incapable of seeing to your own affairs and need us magical supermen to resolve them for you?"

"Ah, but what about medical care? You guys live to, what, like 150? We'd like that! And just about nobody could object to that being provided to us!"

"You guys object to even your own, shittier, medicine being provided to each other! Sure, we could make our healing magic widely available. Who will resource this, precisely, since you're now asking our healers to accept something like a several THOUSAND percent increase in their workload? I can already hear Jacob Rees-Mogg delivering a speech in Parliament about how not one penny of NHS funding should go to our untried 'witchcraft' medicine, and that's just you guys. The Americans will probably make our 'socialist healing magic' actually ILLEGAL unless we charge two thousand dollars a use for it while they talk about how we're trying to steal the jobs of hard-working doctors and nurses."

"... this is hard."

"No shit."

The Wizarding World can't do much to make the Muggle World better by force majeure. The hypothetical puncturing of the masquerade separating them from us would be a period of vast social upheaval, followed then, most likely, by us having the precise same problems we have right now, just also with wizards walking around.

Most stories about secret, underground supernatural societies make them an underclass. "Society sees us as monsters, and would treat as such, so we must stay secret." Or they have them be suppressed in some way - "we have superpowers, but a mysterious organization is after us!" Or they make the secret society evil or aristocratic/exclusive etc etc

Harry Potter doesn't have any of these explanations (I mean wizarding society as described is evil but that's not intended) but it like. Could've? There's a natural explanation, say "hey, Muggles used to hunt witches, and they still will if given a chance". Okay, secrecy explained. But instead she just had someone go "teehee, when the witch hunts happened, witches used a spell to fake being burned alive and just walked off unharmed! Teehee, Muggles are silly and we sure got one over on them! No we couldn't help any of the falsely accused Muggles not be burnt alive we have to stay secret. To avoid the persecution it's trivially easy to avoid & that we treat as a joke"

[explorerspack]

i just think it’s really fucked up that cerise can make her arguments and she can fight right back and she can get angry and she can sound SO sure but. of COURSE she isn’t sure she’s doing the right thing....

[undiscovered-horizon]

Soft!Touchstarved!Billy Russo (Part 2)

Check out my 500 followers special!

Part 2 because there's a character limit (part 1 here)

Billy gets nightmares about what he's done and seen

Like 9/10 times he can deal with it just fine

But this one occasion sets off something inside him

He jolts awake, frantically looking for you, for the comfort you bring him

His movements wake you up and when you notice his quick breaths and scared gaze, you immediately know what's up

You're holding him, gently rocking your bodies

"Deep breaths, baby, deep breaths. It's okay, Billy. We're alright."

(TIP: it's good to match the breathing of a panicking person and gradually slow down. They will automatically follow your breathing pattern)

The situation gets worse when he wakes up and you're not next to him

An air raid siren is going off in his head

Soon, Billy finds you in the kitchen or walking out of the bathroom

And he just latches onto you, making you nearly fall over

Picks you up and carries you to bed, wrapping you in his limbs

(no escaping that one tho)

You know it's not easy to intimidate him, so for a nightmare to get him like this, he must've dreamed about something truly awful

To some degree, you're thankful he doesn't talk about it

Billy might tell you to not scare him like that again

Since we're talking about Upset Billy™️, let's elaborate on the low-key insecurities he has

Like in the memorable merry-go-round sequence where he yells to Frank that no one will mourn them should they die

And that they are not good people, never have been

They're meant to just follow orders, fight the old men's wars and die

So as I have stated in Dating Billy Russo, he genuinely believes that an apple pie life is not for him. He accepts that as a fact.

Therefore, there are two strong forces inside him: on one hand, he sees himself as a person unable and/or unworthy of romantic commitment, while on the other hand, he desperately wants it after meeting you

It's like dipping your toes in the water to see if the tide takes you

And although such insecurities are not visible on an everyday basis, there are moments when it's clear, when he's doubting your relationship

Because you're wonderful! Billy wonders if you weren't better off with someone more meant for a family life

It's still a new sensation to Billy that you want him and all he brings with him

Of course you would mourn him!!!

"Billy, if you die on me, I will bring you back and kill you again myself."

This is like the most sentimental thing anyone has ever told him, really

It's just hard for him to wrap his head around that idea

He knows he's loved (you do say it quite often) but doesn't know just how much

And the odd realizations make him go uncharacteristically soft

Although he might try to play it off

But let's be honest, he can't fool you

This boils down to the two of you holding each other, whispering your mutual affections and exchanging soft pecks

"You deserve the world, Billy"

He lives a pretty hectic life, especially emotionally-wise

Billy is the quiet frustrated type, drinking his drink and staring off into space

Anyone who comes at him in this state should be prepared for sultry words

But if it's you, he's gonna give in

You're silently holding his head against your torso, gently caressing the side of his face

And his frustration is slowly fading away

Besides, he'd rather wrestle a hippo than hurt you in any way

Another thing is Billy’s worried for you

It’s not the cutesy odd thoughts about your partner during the day

It’s a legit fear nested in reality

Because he’s done shit and any day someone might try to take him down

And what easier way could there be to hurt or have a leverage on Billy than hurt the person he loves?

Although nothing has happened yet, he knows it’s highly probable it will, at some point

So when you don’t answer/return his call or don’t text him back for a long time, he gets worried

At first you thought he was being a little paranoid and controlling but you have realized that it’s you who’s downplaying the situation

When you come home (ya know, alive and well) after basically going radio silent for whatever reason, Billy is clearly upset

He’s giving you a lecture as you’re trying to calm him down

But it always ends the same: Billy is holding you, his face’s in the crook of your neck and he’s expressing his genuine worry for you

Out of curiosity, you have once asked him how much he can lift

And Billy’s a little bastard so he picks you up with ease and says ”Enough”

Bathing together, sitting between his legs and leaning against him

He wraps his arms around you and kisses your shoulder

[the-hinky-panda]

first time (can't see the emoji), 💦, 🙈, 🚨, 🎥 for Carrillo? xoxo

Okay, the first time prompt, I am actually ridiculously proud of. And since that's the only one that I did a fic for, I'm saving it for the last entry. Loved writing it! So, now on to the headcanons:

💦 (cum headcanon): This just goes to show what a terrible smut writer I am. I tried to write a fic about this and just failed miserably at it. So here are just my thoughts. I don't think Carrillo is much into making a mess. If he has to or you ask him to, he'll come on you. However, I do think he has a wicked possessive side so I think he would definitely enjoy coming inside you and then feel a lot of satisfaction as seeing it run out.

🙈 (something they're shy about asking for): So I kind of, sort of hinted at this in Mariposa but wasn't explicit (haha) in the situation. I think he would be shy about asking for a blow job. With all the misogyny that ran rampant in the 80's with women in a male dominated workplace, I just feel like he wouldn't want to be viewed as one of "those guys" by a significant other. Canon wise, I think we see him in a very traditional situation as a husband. He's the protector of a scared and timid wife. I just don't see him being comfortable with asking her for something like oral sex.

🚨 (Sex that sent me to the ER): This fool. Horacio is the kind who will suggest shower sex and then slip and fall. Dislocated shoulder, sprained wrist, and a pulled back muscle. He doesn't want to bring too much attention to the three cracked ribs from you landing on top of him. Although this one I may circle back to write a fic about because @seltsamkind and I were talking about this prompt and imagining him showing up at the ER when Connie was working there? And then Connie coming home and being like "Steve, you will never guess who came limping into the ER today and you will never guess why!"

🎥 (Filming or making a sexy movie): Horacio strikes me as being pretty private and not wanting anything that could be seen as controversial being out there for his enemies to use as leverage. I just don't see this as being something he would be into.

Now for the First Time Fic:

Carrillo gets laser focused on things and when sex finally enters into his brain as something that is available to him, that’s all he can think about for awhile. Thankfully, he has a friend who introduces him to a General’s daughter who finds his arrogance and disregard for the rules exciting and dangerous. That’s how he woos her. Her life has been shaped and controlled by rules and regime. He’s a sledgehammer that smashes all her expectations and she falls in love with what he represents: freedom from regulations. 

Her father knows exactly what he is facing when Horacio Carrillo starts turning up at his home and spending time with his wide eyed, sheltered daughter. He tries very hard to make sure he’s within the eyeline of the brash cadet, acting as the unofficial chaperon for the two young lovers. But even the most dedicated guard dog needs sleep. After a two week training camp that is used to weed out the weak, he retires to bed early one night and Horacio takes full advantage of the opportunity. She lets him through the kitchen door and they sneak up the back stairway of the old house to her room. 

He tries to go slow, he really does. She has about the same amount of experience as he does, which is next to nothing, so they fumble through the removal of clothes, the shyness of the exposure, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely skin to skin. She’s incredibly tense no matter how much he runs his hands over her soft skin and curves. But everything, how she feels, how she smells, how she sounds, are making it very difficult to hold himself back. He’s literally shaking from the effort. 

But she’s a general’s daughter, raised in the military despite never donning a uniform. She braces herself, convinced it’s going to hurt and ready to endure this rite of passage into adulthood. He, just as foolishly, decides to be done with it so he can either move on from whatever hold this base instinct has had on him or continue to practice it until he’s mastered it just like any other skill he’s set out to learn. He pushes into her, caught between doing it quickly or going slowly, and it ends up being a steady invasion. She tenses around him, painfully so, and a stray tear slips from her left eye. He presses his forehead against her temple and whispers apologies in her ear. The tension slowly ebbs from her muscles and he’s able to move, not that he moves for a lengthy amount of time. He manages three or four rolls of his hips before spilling himself inside of her. 

He is terribly ashamed in the aftermath. Tears are coming more earnestly, her eyes impossibly round, and…a trembling smile on her lips. She thanks him, thanks him for being gentle, even though he knows he caused her pain. Thanks him for being kind, even though he found his completion and she did not. Thanks him for loving her, which he’s surprised to find, he does. 

Fifteen years later, a young DEA agent decides he wants an insider perspective on how things work in Colombia. But Horacio needs to know if he can trust this Javier Peña so he takes him on a stakeout and keeps passing him beers. He ends up telling Horacio about some woman named Lorraine who was left at the alter after she confessed to Javier that she was not, in fact, pregnant like she had thought. Horacio had chuckled. 

“I was in a similar situation,” he tells Javier. He’s not a fool. Trust goes both ways. 

“Got a girl in trouble?” 

“I did.” 

“What happened to her?” 

Horacio takes a long drink from the beer. “I married her.” 

“You guys still married?” 

He nods. “Fifteen years in August.” 

“What’s her name?” 

“Juliana.”

[saphirered]

Hello! What do you think it would be like if Essek had a fire genasi S/o, like they're normal really calm and collected unlike most fire genasi but the times they do get really general angry it's like watching a volcano erupt! (Maybe they got angry cause Essek got hurt by someone?) Thank you!

Essek is so caught up in his work he doesn’t even hear you enter his laboratory. Papers are strewn about, books opened, some flat, some propped agains anything and everything for better readability. The sound of the metal nib of a fine pen moving across paper, the only constant in the room besides the occasional mutter to himself.

You knock on the door. No response. You call out his name. Nothing. You think whatever Essek’s working on must be very important to have him be so unaware of his surroundings. You notice Essek’s in his robe, shoes and a shirt given the mostly exposed lower arms. Did he not get dressed in the morning? Or did he simply never go to sleep? You’re not sure. Could be both. Could be either.

Since he’s not responding you simply approach. You place a hand on his shoulder, slide it down over his chest as you kiss his temple. You look over the pages out in front of him as he slowly becomes aware of your presence, leaning into your kiss.

“What are you up to?” You ask softly recognising some of the spells as the schematics of healing magic and to a lesser extend regeneration. Essek must have noticed your confusion as he quickly pulls from your grasp, begins to gather the papers and pile them together, closing the books as he goes.

“Nothing of importance. I did not hear you enter.” Essek gets up leaning against the desk and faces you with a smile reaching for you and pulling you closer to the point you no longer have visual on any of the papers and books. He’s definitely hiding something.

“I knocked, and called your name. You seemed to be pretty caught up in whatever you were working on.” You try to look past him but the moment you do his hand finds its way to your cheek brushing his thumb over it lovingly.

“My apologies. Shall we go somewhere else? I think I’ve been crammed up in this study long enough for today. Perhaps some fresh air will suit us both?” Essek suggest with a somewhat nervous laugh. You smile back at him and give him a kiss. If he’s not going to talk, you’ll find out yourself and you’re prepared to use whatever you can to get to the bottom of this.

Reaching for the stack of papers behind him once they are securely in your grasp you break the kiss taking several steps back and leaf through the notes before he can get to you. So not just healing magic… herbology, physiology and anatomy, manual healing, treating injuries, medicine, recipes for concoctions, ointments and potions to cure anything from bruises to broken bones, wounds and burns.

“Why the sudden interest in the art of healing?” You frown as the pages are snatched from your grasp and the drow holds them behind his back with an unreadable expression, head held high; the same one he uses whenever he’s dealing with any kind of official and none casual business.

“A sudden interest. I found myself with time to spare and decided to spend it learning until your return. And since you’re here, there’s no need to continue.” You notice the nervous smile break through again leaving you more leery of Essek. If he’s gonna play this game you’ll play along but last you remembered chess is a two player game and you’re not about to be tricked into making a certain move by the wizard.

“You misunderstand. I’m not judging your ‘sudden interest’ nor questioning your reasonings for wishing to study healing. However, last I remember you were the one to tell me healing magic is not exactly within your capabilities. I’m just curious.” You take a step closer to Essek and he steps back. You take another and close enough to the desk he puts the stack of paper back where it was before he steps back in towards you.

“There are some very capable healers among my friends and you are an exceptional one. I simply wish to learn the deeper meanings to the abilities they have at their fingertips and gain a better understanding of it.” You smile at him innocently. Such a liar. Such. A. Liar. Half truth if we’re being technical but deception nonetheless.

“Well then, I would leave you to your studies but I have missed you, Essek.” You kiss his cheek snaking one arm around his waist. You can see the panic in his eyes. Normally he’d happily indulge, return your affections without even a second of doubt. He pulls the robe around his torso a little closer as your free hand dances up his chest and over his shoulder.

The moment you reach his shoulder he grits his teeth, jaw tightening holding back a a whimper or a gasp as his entire posture freezes up. You quickly remove your hand and look at him worried. Essek gives you a look of defeat as you put a bit more space between the two of you, allowing you to move freely.

“Essek…” You all but threaten as you reach for the neckline of the robe. He has half the mind to stop you but refrains from doing so with a sigh as you push the fabric aside.

His shoulder and upper arm seem very much bruised, the bone slightly out of place. Seeing it continues over the top of his shoulder you turn him around inspecting his back too. Two deep cuts, luckily no longer bleeding mare the back of his shoulder. The injuries agitated, left untreated. Essek sighs deeply as you gasp at the sight.

“What happened?” You go over the outline of the open wounds, careful not to touch.

“Let’s just say the Martinet Daleth did not appreciate my comments on his personal relations very much.” Essek grits his teeth as you accidentally brush over a particularly painful area. You bite your lower lip keeping yourself from making a snarky remark but can’t prevent yourself from feeling the threads of control slip. How could he have done something so stupid? He’s aware how powerful those people are, not only that, in the position he is in, being less than friendly will not do him well in any circumstance when he doesn’t have any leverage anymore.

“Have you gone mad?!” That may have come out a little less… calm than you had hoped it would. Deciding to focus on the now and not all the things you may want to say, shout or scream, or actions you may want to take, you instead focus on healing the worst. You make sure the wounds are clean before they close up, reset the bone in the right position and allow the bruises to fade.

As your magic sets in and begins to work its wonders Essek lets out a breath of relief, rubbing at his priorly injured shoulder testing its movability. Nothing remains of the injuries and you’re able to contain the fire feel burning within your chest and throat. You take a few deep breaths as Essek thanks you.

Brushing Essek off, knowing the way well enough, you head for the component pantry. Essek follows behind you calling after you but out of fear of blowing up in his face you keep going and ignore him. You go over the shelves grabbing jars and vials as you go. You had to channel your anger somewhere so if this was going to be it, then so it be.

You had worked very hard to keep your own fury contained when it arose. You’re usually calm and collected even in the most dire of situations, but when someone comes for your friends, let alone lover, you will put the burning fires of the Nine Hells to shame, living up to the ‘hell hath no fury’ expression. It’s also a side you prefer to keep away from your loved ones if it can be avoided.

Normally a few deep breaths, counting to ten and another few deep breaths would do. In the rare cases that didn’t work you’d try occupying yourself with something else entirely. But now… you’re slipping. You can feel the rage burning within, so to the components you turn.

You pick up another vial inspecting it and Essek interrupts placing himself between you and your already gathered components.

“I don’t know what you’re planning but please, don’t do anything you’ll come to regret.” Essek practically begs. He takes the vial from your hand but drops it immediately, hissing in pain. The vial shatters as he waves his hand as if to cool it down. You push past him, gather the components and throw them into a sack as you leave the pantry. Essek quickly follows behind still clutching his hand to cool it down.

“Where are you going?” You stop, put on the most composed look you can and turn around to face him.

“I’m going to murder the leader of an infamous order of magic users. Now if you will excuse me, enjoy the rest of your day.” Words like poison. No more anger, just pure unrestrained hatred. You turn back around and continue your way towards the front door. You clench your fists feeling the burning heat gather within your palms.

“Don’t do anything stupid! You’ll get yourself killed!” Essek shouts after you but you keep walking. He calls your name. “Do not do anything stupid!” He repeats. You stop in your tracks feeling as if something inside of you just snaps. The last thread of your composure perhaps.

“Don’t do anything stupid? Anything stupid he says!” You throw your hands in the air.

“Like how you didn’t do anything completely and utterly stupid when you did what you did? How you lied to so many people, were the one responsible for so many terrible things. Or how you made choices ignoring the consequences of your actions?” You shout back, the ground beneath your feet’s temperature starts rising to the point where you are scorching the fine carpet beneath. Admittedly, your words are a low blow.

“You know what I meant!” Essek retorts getting closer to you, his frustrations also clear.

“Oh, I know what you meant but let’s no longer pretend you’re the only one you care about suffering from the consequences of your actions. Can you for just a moment just open your eyes and realise you have so many people around you who love you and would go to the ends of the earth for you. Can you just understand that when someone hurts you and threatens your livelihood, your life, that maybe that doesn’t sit well with me?” Unclenching your fists embers drift to the floor leaving more holes in the carpet.

“Why do you have to be so stupid!” Scorching heat radiates in the hallway as a brief rush of flame passes through the space like burning oil. Essek is quick enough to float and avoid the fire, but you watch it spread.

Essek’s face softens as he quickly puts the fire out. He goes to place his hand on your arm but feeling the heat of your skin before even making contact, he’s forced to refrain and his hand falls back to the side. He’s never seen you quite so driven by hatred and anger. It scares him in a way. He’s not afraid of you. He trusts you. But he is afraid that letting you go off on your own so driven by those negative emotions, allowing them to fester and grow, will not do anyone good, least of all you. He worries for your wellbeing, just like you have for his plenty of times before.

“I know I may have a hard time coming to terms with others’ affections towards me and may have made some stupid decisions but I beg of you, please, do not walk into a lions’ den unprepared carrying bait around your neck.” While the fury still burns in your eyes and your skin is still much hotter to the touch than it should be Essek is able to grasp your hand without burning himself.

“I must ask you to refrain from brutally murdering the Martinet… for now. His time will come, just as those who are loyal to him. Just not yet.” Essek strokes your cheek as your eyes soften, expression saddening.

“They hurt you still.” The words come out almost like a cry of frustration and sadness. Whether that be because of what had happened to Essek or from losing control like that you’re not one hundred percent sure but you guess the latter.

“They did, and I assume they will be a thorn in my side just a bit longer but, if that means I’ll have you at my side to eventually deal with them, I feel more comfortable for it, no matter how much I would love to see you set their pretentious ship ablaze, in retaliation, you yourself said, calculated moves are a necessity, especially now.” Essek had already made his peace with this, he only hopes you would see the same. Wrapping your arms around him hiding your face in his chest you compose yourself in a silent thank you as he returns your embrace, holding you until you pull back enough to see his face.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper looking at the scorch marks all over. “I didn’t mean to… I never-”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Everyone breaks at some point. You’ve been there for me plenty of times. I’m glad I get to return the favour, regardless of the circumstances.” Essek looks around already mentally making a list of what to get replaced and what to get repaired.

“You can be quite intimidating in your fury.” He smiles at you and you raise an eyebrow.

“I guess…” You feel regretful for the damages done.

“I might have use for that in the future if you’d be willing.” You give Essek a look of disapproval.

“What? I would love to see you do this, in some other places with less than friendly people, who you’ve already deemed deserving of your wrath.” Essek laughs.

“So I can repay you for this? I can do that. But only in the most dire situations.” You poke an accusing finger at his chest laughing with him. You give him quick kiss.

“At least it was not my library, or the study.” Essek sighs as you gawk and swat his arm jokingly.

“Rude! But yes. Because I can see you being the one in a fiery rage should anyone ever damage your precious books.”

[thenarator]

(Eye Emoji) LEVERAGE/BNHA AU?! LET'S GO, LET'S GO! I've been messing around in my brain where Izuku gets adopted by all 5 of the Leverage members and gets all their skills. They also take Endeavour to court. I WANNA HEAR YOUR TAKE ON THE LEVERAGE/BNHA AU THOUGH

i was really excited to talk about this au when i made that post but i got delayed in elaborating because i almost got kicked out of my current living situation. i probably won't have a lot of mental energy to work on writing fanfic this weekend so instead i'm gonna try something easy and answer this ask.

so this au starts with the leverage crew. it's too difficult to try and translate their characters into japanese identities so they just are who they are, five american con artists banding together to be robin hood. instead of nate having been betrayed by the insurance company he worked for he's got some kind of beef with the hero industry, non-specific but there's still a dead kid involved. obviously because of the au they have quirks: nate can unerringly tell when someone is lying, sophie can subtly mess with people's memories, parker doesn't show up on camera, hardison can process computer binary in his head, and eliot is quirkless. remember that, it's important.

so they're in japan for a con of some kind that requires them to infiltrate a heroes public safety commission building, probably to steal some documents. hardison and nate are on coms, parker's in the vents and sophie's at the front desk, but eliot takes a wrong turn somewhere and opens a door to find a room full of children in cages. one of the cages is open, and an eight year old boy has one foot outside it, frozen in the act of escaping when he sees eliot come in dressed like a guard.

"nate," says eliot into his com. "we got a change in plans."

so they decided to put the con on hold to rescue the kids, obviously. hardison works on opening up all the cages remotely while eliot tries to figure out how the smuggle several dozen warm bodies out of this high security building. while he's doing that the kid who had escaped previously starts following him around, asking him all kinds of awkward questions.

"are you a hero?" ask the kid, blinking huge, innocent green eyes up at eliot.

"no," eliot admits.

"good," says the kid, and his eyes narrow shrewdly. "are you here to rescue us?"

"that's not why i'm here, but i'm gonna do it anyway," eliot tells him.

eventually eliot finds he needs a keycard to access some area, and surprisingly the kid pulls one out and offers it to him. parker joins them and she needs an extra pair of hands in the vents so the kid volunteers. hardison needs to know a thing about the computer system and the kid overhears them talking and provides the answer. he's the most useful victim they've ever saved.

they get all the kids out, and after some drama work on figuring out what they were all doing there. turns out that the hpsc was doing some nasty experiments on kids with weaker quirks to see if they could be made stronger. kids with stronger quirks were taken too, but most of them had already been moved into "rooms" so they could join the training programs. there were also a handful of quirkless kids there.

"what were they for?" nate wonders.

"control group," says the kid, appearing in their midst out of nowhere.

nate wants to know who let the kid in, but the others already know he's useful and sophie takes an immediate liking to his "expressive eyes" and after a bit of sputtering nate agrees to let him sit in on planning. they develop another con, one that will expose the hpsc keeping kids in cages, but for it to work they have to pose as human traffickers. to pose as human traffickers, they need to find a valuable asset to sell, something uncommon and valuable to bait the trap.

"what's your name again?" nate asks the kid.

"i never told you," the kid replies. "it's izuku."

"and what did you say your quirk was?" nate asks.

"i'm quirkless," the kid says sheepishly.

eliot looks up. he knew there were quirkless kids among those they rescued, but he didn't realize his kid (and he has started thinking of this one as "his kid") was one of them.

so they start getting ready for the con. they have to read izuku in on how they do everything, and sophie teaches him how to act a little bit, which he's very good at and she's very proud. hardison and parker teach him a little bit about what they do, and then he ends up alone with eliot.

"what's your job?" izuku asks.

"i'm the hitter," eliot tells him. "i'm here to deal with the hired muscle, but i can drop anyone that gets in our way."

"you must have a good quirk," izuku says wistfully.

"actually i'm quirkless," eliot tells him. when izuku's eyes get big he smiles. "they wouldn't let me be a hero, but that never stopped me from kicking anyone's tail."

izuku looks starstruck.

the con goes off without a hitch. izuku plays his part flawlessly, and maybe gets to kick some goon in the shins to stop him from hurting nate or sophie. they expose what the hpsc was doing, although that only leads to a few arrests, and at the end of the day all the kids they rescued get to go home.

except the ones that don't have a home.

like izuku.

"we're not keeping the kid," nate says before anyone can speak.

"please!" parker says immediately. "he helped me clean the vents!"

"and he's a tremendous actor," sophie says, "a real talent, ready to bloom!"

"he's not a half bad hacker either," hardison supplies.

"nate," eliot says. "if we don't help him he'll go in the foster system, which is not a great place to be. especially for a quirkless kid."

nate takes a deep breath.

"fine," he says with a sigh. "but i'm not planning how to get him back to the states."

(they smuggle izuku back to america in a duffle bag) (parker hangs out in the cargo hold with him on the plane)

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Can I get uhhh fresh professor membrane x femme reader who's head of biochemistry at ML, they're working on a project together but one of them accidentally bump into an abandoned fertility drug project, shattering the vials and getting it on their skin. Basically a sex pollen situation. Where there was already sexual tension between them but now it's like, hardcore overdrive and they end up just...fucking for hours before it wears off. Sorry I'm very tired and not good w words

so uhhhh, it’s been a year. (sorry about that) But hey lets start off my comeback with a bang

@gildedmaggot hope i did this ask justice 

Director of Biochemistry. That’s what your job title said. Dr. L/N that’s what your degree said. Yet, as you look out over the greenhouse where your lab technicians were currently weaving and bobbing between different species of plant, you couldn't help but feel like Gaia herself. Each of the plants here you had painstaking grown, tending and nurturing with your team. The building before you was full of hundreds of hours of man time, and no amount of insurance could ever mend how heartbroken you would be if something ever happened to it.

You knew the people and plants here like the inside of your eyelids, and yet a stranger was in your kingdom’s midst. A line of jagged- lighting like- hair stuck out among the tall leaves. Ah that was right- your boss would be working with you today. The Professor did not often come to visit as he was more than content with the work you team put out. However, it seemed that one of his projects could use your expertise. And so, information was exchanged, a meeting set and here you were.

Looking at the clock you sighed. It was going to be a long day and probably night. Your lab and greenhouse usually closed late afternoon so your workers could have dinner with their families, and you could catch some sleezy TV with your pets. However, there was no time either you or the Professor could spend during the day to meet, so you would both be staying after-hours. You felt for the man, you really did. You knew he had a family he took care of by himself. “I suppose those are the sacrifices you make to better the world” you thought as the man in question made his way towards you.

“Dr. L/N! How wonderful to see you again!” the Professor greeted you with cheer.

“Same here, how does it feel to be able to breath in a lab?” You jeered. The regular labs were well regulated, but they always smelled of chemicals and usually something burnt. That was why you insisted on any meetings with the Professor be in your lab. Your lab was fragrant with the scent of earth and flowers, you liked to think it calmed you boss. Maybe gave him a welcome change of pace.

“The labs may smell, but they smell of PROGRESS!” Professor Membrane laughed. The scene was almost movie like. His encouragement was truly unwavering wasn’t it?

“Shall we get started?” you stretched your arm out in the direction of the lab. “Maybe if we start now we can get a good 10 minuets of sleep tonight!” you joked. Professor Membrane gave an amused snort and long sigh. Just as you were about to open the door one of your team called your name.

“Dr. L/N before you go!” A young intern ran up “what do you want me to do with those extractions that we decided not to use for the fertility drug?”

“Go ahead and just set them in the lab, I’ll take care of them tomorrow” you turned as the intern walked off to see the professor patting his jacket.

“Oh, I’m sorry F/N, I forgot my phone in my office, I’ll be right back”

You watched as Membrane made his way towards the exit, then decided to get started on your work. The intern dropped off the extraction samples and you handed him your keys to lock the cabinets in the green house before leaving.

The professor returned and your long vigil began.

*Several hours later*

The night was beginning to ware on you as you and Membrane tried variation after variation on different formulas. This was the last piece of the puzzle you just knew it. After another failed attempt, the Professor stood up and popped his back.

“I think a well-deserved break is in order, perhaps after a few minutes of recharging we will get it.” He was right. He also looked worn. You found this point happened often when you stayed late together. His shoulders began to slump, and his hands began to fidget. He became…softer. Like he was releasing the control that he always held over everything and was just letting himself exist. Membrane walked over to your desk and looked around at the various decorations you had.

“It’s alright” you began walking over with a broom and cloth. “These were just here for me to get rid of in the morning” You stooped down to brush the pile together when a spicy, almost savory aroma filled your senses. It was unlike anything you could describe, but it was pleasant in the most wonderful way. From where you were bent down you began to sweat. You made a move to stand but your knees gave way as you grabbed onto the desk for balance.

You pulled out your phone to check on your pets through the security app. You were watching them peacefully sleep- something you wished you could be doing yourself- when the sound of glass shattering broke you out of your revere. Membrane was holding a stack of folders. The box of extracts- that had been previously lying of the stack of folders- was lying of the ground. Its contents were leaking out over the floor.

“F/N I am so sorry, I thought I could remove the stack.” Membrane began to taper off and began to stare at the floor. As if he was looking at a pile of literal broken dreams.

“F/N!” Membrane leaned down to help you up, grabbing onto your arms. His touch was fire on your skin, and yet you wished he’d never let go.  You looked up at his face, when did he take off his googles? When did he start smelling so good? The usual smell of burnt chemicals and sweat turned into a musk. Rough and sharp. You stared deep into his eyes and leaned your head closed to smell.

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT 

Membrane had noticed something was wrong, how could he not? You were staring into his soul and smelling him. He leaned down to get a better grip on your arms to hoist you up, getting a whiff of the pile on the ground. His breathing began to quicken, and he noticed just how close you were. Everything around the two of you seemed to be enhanced. The sharp lights of the lab. The defined tone of Membranes shoulders under the coat. The aroma of flowers all seemed to turn savory and flavorful. The way your bottom lip quivered as you panted.

“F/N, I…. are you…?” Membrane was at a lose as he seemed to size you up right then and there. You moved your hands to hold his neck and feel the stubble of his undercut. He took in a sharp breath and let out a muttered “please”. As if he was holding the very weight of the world back from crushing you.

You made a move to stand up using his shoulders as leverage, but your legs still didn’t work. You fell with you back on the desk, pulling Membrane on top of you. Your skin was on fire, he was encompassing you and all you wanted to do was bury yourself in him. Membrane it seemed had the same instinct as he began devouring you in a kiss. An arm on either side of you face as you felt him press his weight into you. The more you had the of him, the needier you became. You grew wetter by the second as he pressed his clothed erection into you. Forcibly grinding you into the top of the desk

Suddenly with the force of thunder he stood up and practically ripped his jacket off. Shrugging it off while you weakly managed to do the same. Your core pulsated with need, as he stripped. You managed to get topless but your legs would not cooperate with you. Membrane remedied the situation, taking your bottoms and underwear in one fell swoop.

He buried his head into your thighs, breathing deeply. As if you were the oxygen he needed to breath on a foreign planet. His cold metal hands came up to part your legs, and he sunk his head further into your pussy. He wasted no time in thrusting his tongue into your folds. You let out a gasp and then a moan as he began to consume your very core. Obscene wet noises filled the air as he alternated between licking stripes up your core and taking your clit and folds into his mouth and sucking. You grabbed onto the desk as you reached your climax. Moaning out his name. He drank you up and then reemerged, looking ravenous and wild. The climax did nothing to easy the heat inside you. And the need in your center came back tenfold.

“Over, Now” Membrane commanded with a voice that left no choice for disobedience.  You did your best to comply, now situated on your stomach. You felt his hands hold onto your hips. A punishing grip that would leave bruising in its wake pulled you back onto his cock. As the head made it past the first ring of muscle you heard him moan and hiss. He slowly sheathed himself inside you. And as he set fully inside you, there was a moment of clarity. The haze lifted for a moment, and the lab returned. Then as he slowly pulled out, the fog returned. There was no desk, no lab, no job, no world. Only you and Membrane. He thrust into you quickly and you just about screamed in relief. He set a punishing pace. Pistoning his cock inside your warm walls. Causing moans and grunts to join the noises of wet slapping filling the air.

He used his leverage to push deep inside you, redecorating your insides. You were close and he began to falter and lose pace. You felt the string inside you snap for a second time as he painted you white. The clarity returned for a moment and you looked back to see him panting and looking down where you two were connected. As your eye met you felt him hardening again.

It was going to be one long and pleasant night.

[not-delicious-milk]

yo I'm gonna be a coward. I've read fan fiction since middle school, and during that time I've read some truly cursed things. I personally have tried to avoid reading mentor/student relationships cause they squik me the f out. But I've always been more treat the immortals like they are their apparent physical age for shipping. So people trying to lewd the pre pubescent with the excuse that they're immortal are obviously full of shit. pt 1.

pt.2 but shipping like Rukia/ Ichigo is fine cause they're the same apparent physical age and act with about the same lvl of maturity. While shipping him with Yoruichi would be sketch. So full disclosure I don't ship Sukuna and Megumi, I don't really see them having chemistry, and no one has written anything good enough to change my mind. But it doesn't freak me out like Megumi and Gojo. Would you be willing to write why you don't consider the vampire rule to apply here?

i’m not completely familiar with the vampire rule, but i would assume you mean that apparent age trumps actual age when it lines up with mental and emotional development?

personally, i’m not a huge fan of that train of thought -- i agree that it’s important to consider mental age when it comes to immortals or very, very old entities, but actual age is still important. and that’s because of the whole reason why big age gaps are fucked up, i.e an imbalance of power that can easily be exploited. adults have more experience, influence, and physical maturity than children or teens do, which they can leverage to groom or abuse a younger partner. as much as i will admit to not hating twilight that much (breaking dawn made me want to give myself a lobotomy though) and honestly sort of liking the trope of “human girl in love with an ancient supernatural being” or any variants of that, there’s an important distinction that needs to be made with it so it’s not awful.

the answer has little to do with mental age. it has to do with power dynamics.

for a vampire romance (which i’m just going to use as a general term for these sorts of relationships) it is absolutely necessary for there to be some caveat in place to prevent the supernatural party from just taking advantage of the mortal one. usually we don’t even think about that when reading or watching vampire romances, because how could such a charming creature of the night stoop so low? 

but it’s important to note that vampires, in gothic literature, existed to fulfill a very specific role. the repressed victorians loved incorporating taboo subjects into their stories, for the steamy scenes i guess, but couldn’t easily do so within the confines of proper literature. one of those taboo subjects was r*pe, which they both found very hot in a forbidden sort of way and longed to explore in their writing without societal backlash, and if you cast an eye upon dracula or carmilla it’s quite easy to guess where those subjects ended up. 

so, for a proper vampire romance, it can’t just end in a straight up kidnapping or taking by force, both because that would be narratively uninteresting and morally corrupt. sometimes there’s a supernatural reason for it, like a protection that the mortal party has to prevent the immortal one from abusing their powers. for example, bella in twilight is immune to telepathy and later develops a shield power against all vampire powers, preventing edward from being able to take advantage of her or invade her privacy any more than he was already doing, fuck you stephanie meyer. sometimes the mortal party has a power of their own that, while relatively useless in situations where the immortal one can swoop in and save them dramatically, is very useful against said immortal party for whatever reason. for example, kagome’s status as the reincarnation of the priestess migoriko would theoretically prevent inuyasha from harming her; in a more explicit example, nanami from kamisama kiss holds absolute divine control over tomoe and could order him to stop if ever he tried anything she didn’t like. although there’s an age gap in those stories, it doesn’t feel like it, not just because of the immortal party’s mental age but because of their inability to take advantage of said gap.

can you see where this is going? 

megumi/gojo is absolutely foul -- there’s the grooming aspect, the fact gojo knew megumi when he was five and practically raised him as a father, and the implicit power imbalance of a teacher/student relationship. there’s no question as to why it’s so repulsive to think about.

megumi/sukuna is equally repulsive, but really only when it exists in fan works. in the canon, sukuna doesn’t have the opportunity to so much as interact with megumi most of the time, let alone take advantage of him, and yuuji would stop that before it ever happened. it feels like a classic vampire romance because the power imbalance should, theoretically, be nerfed by outside circumstances. of course this isn’t the case in any sukufushi fanworks, because it would obviously be boring for sukuna to respect megumi’s boundaries and also to not date a fucking 15 year old from inside the body of another 15 year old, jesus christ. in sukufushi fanworks, which as i’ve stated is the only place sukufushi even exists, there is always something cancelling out the restraints placed on sukuna’s power, whether it be that he has his own body, takes advantage of “enchain”, is able to take control of yuuji’s body on his own, yuuji lets him out for whatever reason, it doesn’t matter. 

there’s always something like that because sukufushi doesn’t exist as a vampire romance, it exists as something more like tentacle p*rn. 

that’s not a sentence i ever thought i’d write, but i think it makes sense? it’s not supposed to be an actual relationship, it’s more like wish fulfillment for people with degradation and pain kinks. in sukufushi fan works, sukuna wields absolute power over megumi and takes full advantage of the age gap and power gap between them. just like how tentacle p*rn strips away the right to refuse in the face of absolute alien power and a language barrier that keeps consent from being withdrawn, sukufushi strips away megumi’s right to refuse in the face of absolute curse power and sukuna’s inability to take “no” for an answer. this is why all explicit sukufushi fics end with megumi being r*ped or nearly r*ped. 

please don’t ask me how i know all of this. sometimes good fanfics have sukufushi scenes in them and i have to like, scroll past the paragraphs really fast to get back to the plot. it’s just that omnipresent.

in other words, megumi/gojo is more grounded in “reality” (not the reality of a functional teacher/student relationship, but the reality of a 28 year old man really being 28 years old) and absent of vampire romance justifications for the age gap. it feels gross because it is and also because there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be.

megumi/sukuna doesn’t feel that way at first, especially if you mainly see sort of canon compliant shipping of it. it’s really common and also never commented on when people joke about sukuna having a “crush” on megumi based on his lines of dialogue when he says he’s curious about him or whatnot. that obeys vampire romance rules, so it doesn’t feel weird. sukuna really doesn’t want to kill or harm megumi because he’s important to his plans later, so that’s out. yuuji would never let sukuna touch megumi with a 10 foot pole either, so that’s out. really their only interactions are hypothetical, besides that one time in shibuya, and even then literally nothing happened. sukuna didn’t want his pawn to break yet, that’s all. even when people overanalyze it they can’t really get any farther than “looks like someone’s got a crush on fushigurooooo” because that’s the farthest it can go. 

if you start looking into sukufushi fanart or fanfics, which is about 95% of the content for sukufushi anyway because again, it’s not supported by the canon at all, vampire romance is replaced unceremoniously by tentacle p*rn. which is why i hate it so much. 

thank you for coming to my ted talk