#and messing with the textures i love the THOUGHT of doing that kinda thing yknow. guuuuh ...

[ploverbear]

after the events of the past 1-2 months i stopped like. playing animal crossing and watching severance and doing things for fun so im trying to get back into them but honestly i have no drive to play acnh nor watch severance -___- ...

[prinxlyart]

I will say, I am hungry again and I have a few ask for your Willumity/Vinira headcannons. HOWEVER to be fair to you. This time I will restrain myself and simply ask for you to share any headcanons you want to share as of now!

You can ALWAYS ask for more Willumity.

A L W A Y S

But!! Since you’ve given me free reign to just play in this sandbox, that’s exactly what I’m gonna do

We all agree that Luz is hella ADHD. This girl will talk for HOURS about the shit she likes. If something grabs her attention, she wants to know everything about it. She doesn’t like being told to do things, but she loves being asked to do things. For example: if someone tells her she needs to do a thing her brain will immediately click into the “No” position and will refuse to budge. If someone asks her to do something, her brain clicks to “help? I can help? I can help with a thing for this person? Yes! I’ll help this person with this task because it will make them happy! Yes! I can help!” This is why acts of service resonate so strongly with her.

I don’t know what mental diversity looks like on the Boiling Isles considering how just. Horror-based everything is? But I’m 100% on that autistic Amity train. She has to do things a Certain Way or she’ll teeter on the edge of a meltdown. She refuses to touch/eat certain textures. She usually doesn’t know what the appropriate response/reaction is to a given conversation, especially with her socialite friends, which is why she just remains a cool mask of indifference. She’ll inspect every detail of anything that’s handed to her. She’s incredibly smart, but doesn’t always know how to convey what she knows and understands into words other people can understand. The only people allowed in her personal space are her siblings. Eventually that also stems to Luz and Willow, maybe more as she grows more comfortable with herself? But usually anyone getting in her space is overwhelming and alarming. Defo has a hard time regulating/processing her emotions.

I need to make an entire post dedicated to Augustus Porter because my boy deserves it, but I’ll toss some random things here. He has a signed poster from the head of the Illusionist Coven framed on his bedroom wall. He and his dad have bi-weekly after-dinner standup comedy sessions with each other (Perry has kept a secret journal of all of Gus’s best jokes he’s done over the years that he reads whenever he needs a pick-me-up).

Perry and Eda knew each other in school in passing. Their social circles overlapped but they were never hanging out in the same groups. When Gus is very little (like, maybe 3 or 4?), Perry takes him to the market to just wander around and they find Eda’s Human Collectibles Stand. She and Perry catch up, he introduces her to his son, and Eda (ever the saleswoman) pulls out some shiny human thing that Gus is immediately taken with. In between her and Perry catching up, Gus asks her a million questions about the thing he’s been given and then even more questions about other stuff at her stand. She actually finds it really fun to show off her human shit to someone so enthralled by it. She makes some stuff up here and there just to mess with him, but he’s too young to realize it’s a joke or not true, and takes everything at face value. We all know Eda likes to get a little theatrical with her sales pitches; she does the Salesperson act with everything Gus asks her about. She lets Gus take a couple items home just because he was such a riot and Perry insists he pay for something, but Eda just waves them off and tells him that this is just an investment in a lifelong customer. She had no idea how right she was because Gus defo became obsessed with human culture from that point on. He also picked up on Eda’s super theatrical sales pitches (because he thought it was funny and because he thought that’s just how you’re supposed to show human stuff to people) and began showing off his own “human collectibles museum” to his dad with the same theatrical voice. Perry plays along with this too (as a news anchor he’s got a great announcer voice) and ta-da! That’s how we get the boy we all know and love today. It’s 100% Eda’s fault, but Perry definitely encouraged it because it made his son so happy. That’s also why Gus doesn’t seem especially perturbed at meeting Eda for the first time in ep 3. Or for interjecting his new Human Knowledge in the moment she was patting Luz’s head. He’s used to having conversations with her about human junk whenever she has her stand up. Eda’s secretly relieved that one of Luz’s new friends is actually someone she kinda knows. It’s Perry’s kid, and Perry’s a good guy. His little squirt seems to be growing up to be pretty good too.

Eda scoffs at “nerdy” shit as if she hasn’t owned the Clawthorne Braincell her entire life. “She worked twice as hard” “-that just made me work harder than you!”. Eda’s extremely smart and extremely talented. She likely created the secret room of shortcuts entirely on her own. She probably studied in the school library constantly, but under the guise of causing mischief. And like. She probably did both. She was a potions track kid so she probably knew all the best ways to make stink bombs that she could leave hidden in the shelves. She hated school because she was so limited and stifled; she only wanted to learn magic and was told no at every turn. So when she learned magic on her own, yknow, without the guidance of a teacher, there’s bound to be some major fuck ups. Once she’s fine-tuned her mistakes though, she absolutely turns them into pranks. You say I’m not allowed to study multiple tracks, bumpikins?? Well how’s THIS!!! How’s THAT for focus??? (Half of her pranks were also just her showing off and desperately hoping to prove that she could learn any type of magic and couldn’t be constrained to just the one. Bump recognized this of course, but he had strict guidelines to follow and no Luz Noceda to call him out for it.)

Camila treasures her daughter more than life itself. I personally refuse to headcanon anything to do with her extended family or why she’s a single parent (too many variables and options that could be addressed in the show), but I do know that she loves Luz more than anything. It’s exhausting being a single mom, working as a nurse, and trying to be there for her ADHD daughter when the rest of the world doesn’t seem to want her. It hurts her so much to see her baby, the light of her life, her Luz, be brushed aside and written off as “the weirdo”, or bullied, or even outright hated by some people just because she’s a little different. She’s had to have some words with the school staff for how they treat her on occasion. Did you see that Principal’s death glare in the first ep?? He hates her. Camila’s there not just because she’s Luz’s parent, but also to act as a barrier between the principal and Luz. She would move Heaven and Earth for Luz, but it can be a lot when you’re the only adult around. I truly believe she wanted Luz to go to that camp to learn how to be friends with kids that didn’t already know her or her quirks. Even she sounded unsure of what they would do at that camp, but she had full faith that this would be Luz’s opportunity to make friends with other kids that could teach her to like....more mainstream stuff. So she could learn how to mimic their (hopefully, toned down) behaviors. She just wants her baby to be accepted by others.

This next one’s a doozy so hold on to your butts

Lilith is technically smart. And I mean that in a literal sense - she can read and understand the fundamentals of magic, the concepts and execution of complex spells, recite entire chapters of Boiling Isles history, you name it. Many adults in her youth called her gifted because of it. All she actually did was absorb the information and regurgitate it when asked. She thrived on the praise she received. What made her different from her sister is that she never wanted anything more than to do as she was told. Her biggest goal? Her dream job? Was to just be given orders by the Emperor. I’m sure there’s all sorts of flowery propaganda surrounding that, advertising how incredible it is to be in the Emperor’s Coven, what an honor it is to work alongside the witch that can speak to the Titan. But it’s literally just. Taking orders. And knowing you’re somehow better than everyone else because you’ve been selected to be among the elite. She never strived for anything more; she never wanted to do anything else but enforce the Emperor’s will because that was “the highest honor” a witch could have. As a result (or in conjunction rather) she lacks literally any amount of foresight. There’s only one braincell in the Clawthorne Family and her sister has it because this dumbass doesn’t think about anyone but herself. Instead of talking with Eda about what they should do when they were told there was only one spot left in the Emperor’s Coven, she walked away. Only thinking of how she could secure her victory. She didn’t ask Eda how she felt about the situation, she didn’t let Eda speak her mind about what her own desires were; Eda made it clear enough that she just wanted to be by Lilith’s side, she didn’t care what that meant. She just wanted to be with her big sister. Eda tried to reach out to her to discuss their cirumstances, but Lilith just walked away like the broody, self-centered teenager that she was and resolved to cheat her way to victory. When Eda knew this was her dream. Why would she think Eda would take away her dream???? She could’ve asked Eda to throw the duel? She could’ve asked her to fake the match? Or even fake sick? Or just not even shown up! If she didn’t show up it could’ve counted as a forfeit and Lilith would’ve earned the spot by default! But no, she had to ruin her sister’s entire life in an act of cowardice and dishonor because she’s so full of herself and didn’t read the fine print. She loves her sister, of course she does, but she’s so self-absorbed that she’s never seen Eda for who she actually is and wasted both of their lives as a result. And this is all just analysis of her character and that flashback, this isn’t even headcanons. I think if she has any amount of respect for her sister (she doesn’t), her redemption will have to go far far beyond an apology and taking on half the curse. When I say Lilith is a dumbass, this is specifically what I mean. She doesn’t think about how her actions will affect those around her. She was the Head of the Emperor’s Coven, literally one of the most powerful positions she could possibly be in on the Boiling Isles and still sacrificed Amity’s dignity and years of hard work just so she could be ensured that she could one-up her sister. She did this in front of everyone in attendance of that Witches Duel. She risked Amity’s credibility as a witch, as a Blight, and as a person just to fuel her own ego. It’s no wonder Amity was so upset; the witch she’s been idolizing her whole life didn’t think she had what it took to best a human that couldn’t do magic in a witches duel. That can fuck up your self esteem something fierce. And Lilith hardly seemed to give a shit!!!! She didn’t care that she just trashed Amity’s reputation in front of dozens of spectators!!!! I’m v bitter about Lilith as a character in case you couldn’t tell.

If I had to throw a headcanon in, I’ll toss one in that sterling and I have discussed: Lilith literally doesn’t know how to live her life as an independent adult. Sure, she knows how to like. Make herself some easy dinners? But that’s literally only because she used to make herself and Eda dinners when they were kids. Beyond that, she has no fucking idea. She can do the basic household chores any teenager knows how to do, but she’s lived in the Emperor’s Castle with the rest of the Coven since she joined. It’s kind of like living in a college dorm; food and a room is provided, there’s maybe a laundry service, she’s never had to pay taxes in her life (not that Eda does, but yknow). The only things she buys for herself (if she doesn’t make it herself) is her hair dye and books. When she first moves in to the Owl House, she has no idea how the household chores are done. She’s on House Cleaning Duty Eternally and the first......I’ll say year. Eda will wake her up by banging pots and pans over her head once every month and scream-singing about how it’s House Cleaning Day, pull out her lawn chairs and some lemonade, and she and Luz (and sometimes King) will just sit back and relax and watch the show that is Lilith trying to clean Hooty. Hooty does not like to cooperate with her (partially because Lilith is a special friend and partially because he knows how much joy it brings Eda and Luz to watch her struggle).

Oof I could go on but this is already one hell of a post huh? Sorry (not really) for dragging Lilith so hard; not a joke, tumblr made me split hers up into two bullet points because it couldn’t comprehend my ranting for so long in one bullet point. I do love sharing these with y’all though, they’re so much fun and I’m so glad you guys like my rambling. <3333

[tamiddyinyourcity]

6:35pm.

Finally have the stamina to type.

Tuesday, May 12th of 2020.

Life updates:

Feel bad for saying what I said to Cam. (And accidentally removed him from my followers. Oops! Eh, oh well.) A nice guy, but me really loathing getting my hopes up and then kinda dropped with no explanation over something stupid + him doing exactly that = yikes overall.

I accidentally tore paint off the wall tje other night. Imagine spending 3 hours detangling TONS and TONS of necklaces, and hanging them all neatly, color coordinated and organized on a scale from "butch/hippie noise music party" to "feminine/a fancy date", and lining them aaaaall against my walls next to my string lights.... just for ONE OF THEM TO CRASH DOWN ALL MY BRACELETS AND RINGS IN THE UNREACHABLE CREVICE BETWEEN MY BED AND THE WALL.

"It's no big deal, I should probably take these down and gently set them still organized in a box anyway. I can find a safer way to secure them anyway."

I take down two of the racks easily, the next two are simple.... aaaaand the third fucking rips bare paint and wood right off the wall.

The SAME "no cracks, no mess" """grip""" tape that made a rack fall twice???? as if it was scotch tape??? can suddenly rip off fucking plaster and wood from a fucking wall????

I literally got in the worlds worst mood after that. I keep forgetting that I am almost 20, so it's not like my mom is gonna bring out the belt or whatever, but yknow, I didn't want to get chewed out or thrown out of the house either.

Luckily, she treated it as if I said "oh oops, spilled a little water on the countertop as I was pouring it", and not "accidentally ripped a hunk of plaster out the fucking building". So, yay.

Been in a thick depression lately. Hard to get out of bed, focus, or look forward to anything. It's understandable. Insane loneliness, the awkwardness of having a good 1st date just to have a TERRIBLE unexplainably bad 2nd date, taking extremely long showers or washing my hair just to still sweat overnight or get frizzy crunchy hair just a day or two later.... Fuck, man.

Alright, now time for the GOOD positive things happening in my life currently:

Going natural for the time being. Holy SHIT, my roots feel good. Real good. The texture is sexy as fuckkkkk. Lord, my hair is so sexy that it could start an onlyfans. Thank god I'm born black. I get to feel my own scalp all fucking daaaay. The tiny coils and ringlets, the way they zigzag, curl, and twist around my fingers???? Worlds softest bush ever. I love my hair so damn much, god bless finally being the age where I can do it my own damn self. Whew, yes.

My mom surprised me with a trip to the beauty supply today. I got lip glosses, aaaaaaall and almost EVERY single product I wanted to use for myself, (aloe, grapeseed oil, that smellgood hair leave in conditioner i wanted for monthssssss,) and more. Soooo lovely. I can now not worry too hard about what works for my hair, and just indulge in the products that made things look perfect and grow ridiculously long and healthy in my junior year. (Before my hoe ass sister ripped out chunks of my hair when "practicing braids on me", with her stupid 3A hair texture ass not knowing shit about transition styles... fucking gosh, it's really hard not to use the w-word with full intent as I write this. She's just a bitch, you know? But anyways....)

Also, my sister and her girlfriend broke up recently. That's sad to me. I really thought her GF was great. Buuuut lo and behold, a cheater.... how disgusting. (It also makes me think about my ex again, which isn't cool... I've been having lots of unhealthy thoughts or extreme bouts of sadness these days over it. Really not a fan... at all.)

But back to the positive! :)

Stocked up on sweets at CVS recently. After the way I got cabin fever + bitterness over a lack of sugar these days.... Yeesh, not letting that happen again.... The bliss of eating Nutter Butters is dope as fuck. Especially after so long.... is sex gonna be good or worse after a quarantine? Whoever comes next better be dope as fuck, since I'm damn near a virgin again after this.

Glad to not be working with Eli anymore. I shall miss the fat stacks of cash to splurge on whatever I pleased, but, not the very creepy older guy that I felt really grossed out being around. (Mainly just the way he smelled, and talked, acted.... maybe a lot.) But he can't control some of what he does. The shit he could control still was annoying, so he deserves better. A real caretaker, and not just his old 'girlfriend', so...

My mom is bonding with me more lately. Moreso just gossiping about how my grandmother is a fake ass bitch and a pathological liar. (My mother keeps trying to say she's just 'naive', but i mean, shes only trying to downplay her own mother's antics in the hopes that I will never get too comfortable checking HER for her shit too....)

Apparently the "dog bite scar" on my grandma's arm, actually came from her hopping a barbed wire fence as she was trying to get away from my enraged granddad, who she stole money from... yikes.

And apparently the narrative wasnt "my grandma was a veteran and a nurse", it was "she helped in the reserves for a few months but has never had a job in her fucking life that lasted past a single week."

And the narrative wasnt "my grandmother hated my granddad, since she got with him since he was rich off selling drugs, but ended with him quitting work and expecting her to be the sole family provider on a whim", it was "my granddad was from a well off family, my grandma was with him but decided to get hooked on drugs nonstop and always steal shit, and got him roped into terrible situations for my mom, her siblings, and him at any given moment". (No offense, but why hasn't my mom pushed my grandmother down the stairs yet? I mean? Why not? You'd spare the world of her dumbass shit.)

And I also found out the context for the sole time in my life my older brother ever had wanted someone dead. (I guess its shocking to learn a sibling has wished death on someone else, but yet somehow surprising to know that it only happened ONCE, im still shocked other people do not often have hyperviolent thoughts very often?????? Damn, what a life to live.)

7:16pm.

I am okay.

Still loathe my ex.

When you date a guy, despite knowing inside yourself that hes a major asshole and naive, a people pleaser to an idiotic or even counterproductive extent, and a total asshole, (yes, i repeated this....)

And then things go shockingly great, to the point where you're at his house and in his arms at night, looking at him, and internally in peril at not knowing what could come out of the blue and hurt a relationship as well as this had gone.....

And it finally happens!

Then, it resolves. Goes back to peace. Christmas Dinner vibing, breakfast dates, great sex. With time, one can forget the bad ever happened.

Until lo and behold, it was definitely too damn soon and he does MANY things out of cowardice and overall shitty explanations.

Things get VERY TERRIBLE.

VERY AWKWARD.

VERY FAST.

A pause happens.

Then terribleness again.

And despite you thinking it should all end.... Oh, look. *He* tells you that he still wants to keep seeing you. *He* reaffirms wanting you apart of his life. *He* makes that move.

You try.

Slow and steady, bumps here and there. But the ice fades, and it goes from short talks in public spaces to longer hangouts on the beach or painting at the library and listening to music.

And somehow, sex. (Not gonna lie, I should've made him pay for my burrito the day we smashed. But the sex was still nice enough, so at least it cured me of the 'my gorrila grip pussy will swallow itself whole unless i have an orgasm soon' dilemma for the present time being.)

And things felt really good.

Until they didn't.

Then, you feel the soreness again. The emptiness behind texts, distance in talks, and how oh look, the 'chase' is gone, and so he is no longer as interested in the tabooness of fucking his mildly nuts ex girlfriend now that hes had the experience once before.

You leave when you realize he's never gonna stop switching between wanting you and dissing you. He sends that stupid text. Gaslighting, and more lies. The shit that made you react so badly when you first left.

Fuck.

......

I really just hate that he did all of that.

ALL of it. The bar was so low. Oh my god. So fucking low. So incredibly low. And maybe I'm just still sad about it, since it was repeatedly him coming back and making me feel like I actually mattered in the life of someone fucking else in a way that I felt actually loved or something.

And now what do I have?

.....

Cool, my face is salty from the tears.

Uh, yeah. Just.... fuck. I bonded really great with him, and worry that I can't find that in someone else.

And he's most likely not worried about the same thing. (Since he's a freaking dumbass, and doesn't acknowledge a good thing when he has one. He's a defeatist loser with no strong sense of reliability, two lame ass friends who he deadass lied to for months and hid me from since he knows they're judgmental as fuck, and hes a sad sack fucking loser. Oh my god, girl, his closest female best friend preferred to online stalk your blog for MONTHS despite you two breaking up, just to mock him, and you. It's pathetic! He's pathetic! Normal relationships would never have this problem. Gosh darn heck.)

I deserve the best.

Best dates, best communication, best talks.

7:37pm.

Gonna shower and buy a wig.

I found a sexy ass wig earlier. Long, flowy and brown like my hair, but with caramel highlights.

Hell yeah bitch, sex appeal so strong that I can get giddy off of just a selfie alone is good.

Also! My ass has gotten bigger! Aye aye aye. Bars. Like, no, im not even kidding. I have upgraded from Taylor Swift/Ciara level skinniness, to like.... young Beyoncé/mild Normani level thickness. A quarantine full of steak, chicken, beans, kale, and brown rice does that to a girl yknow?

(Eli cash + free Chipotle delivery for all the lifestyle bowls I want + watching Megan Thee Stallion videos + Trina while dancing in my room = damn, where she get all that ass from????)

I miiiiiss getting money. I blow money too easily, in the house or out. I literally spent a huge fuckton of cash at the Beauty Supply.... and CVS.... just cause I knew I had it on me.

Same for me buying sparkly almond oil and whatnot.

Buuut money is money, and happiness comes and goes. So why not use money that otherwise I don't plan to spend, on what I want or would like?

Gonna be out here with grapeseed oil and sweet almond oil, glittery and Froot Loops scented, sexy as hell. (I mixed up the smell of Apple Jacks and Froot Loops, but, aye either way it's good...)

My ass is fat, tiddies sitting, and I have a nice, clean, lavender, vanilla, and coconut scented bed with satin sheets....

I have makeup, shea butter so powerful that the scars on the back of my hand from 2019 have faded away almost entirely, rose water and aloe body wash, lemon scented body wash that makes me smell like a sexy Lemon Starburst, like....

I have my own bedroom, after YEARS of peril. I can sleep. I can sleep whenever I want, for however long I desire. I have finally trusted my bedroom enough to have all the lights turned off again.

I have a jewellery rack of all of my prized jewels and possessions! A cork board with beautiful paper pinned to it, soon to be full of ideas! I found my drawing tablet, my camera equipment, so much more.

I am finding peace and beautiful things in my life that I didn't have before.

Tell me, why be unhappy? I am happy as hell and GRATEFUL for my situation right now.

God bless and amen.

7:54pm. I love myself.

Peace yalls.

[lesbrarians]

Junkrat/Roadhog: Voyages Ch 14

Title: Voyages

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary:  After a rocky start and some ups and downs, Junkrat and Roadhog are officially partners, even if things haven’t progressed quite as far as Junkrat would like. With his treasure at the heart of their grandiose plans, they take their adventures overseas and leave their mark on the world, for better or worse. (Mostly for worse. They’re criminals.) Sequel to “Origins.”

---

Junkrat hurried them along back to their hideout, unwilling to accept victory until he was sure they had escaped pursuit. When they were safe and sound in the bunker, he collapsed on the floor and held the brain out in front of him. “We got it,” he said disbelievingly. “We got it!” He fell flat on his back and positively rolled on the floor in his glee, laughing like a hyena as he clutched the final piece of his project to his chest.

“We got it, and you almost got killed.” Junkrat dropped his arms to his sides and looked up at Roadhog. He looked impossibly tall from this vantage point, and just as attractive as he had been in the heat of battle when Junkrat had forgotten himself entirely. “More than once. What the hell happened?” Roadhog’s breathing was labored, and it only intensified the urge to jump his bones.

“I mean, in my defence, I was just electrocuted.”

“It was more than that.” He wasn’t wrong.

Junkrat couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, look, Roadhog, mate... I really gotta get laid, okay? I keep thinkin’ about ya--”

“Is that why you’ve been shit at everything lately?” Roadhog was as blunt as ever.

“Might be makin’ me a tad distracted, yeah,” Junkrat confessed.

Roadhog folded his arms across his chest and studied him before letting out a huff of amusement. “Come here,” he said.

Junkrat bounced to his feet, hardly daring to get his hopes up. “You mean--”

Roadhog pushed his gas mask up. “If it means you’ll stop fucking up, yeah.” The words were expressionless, but the smirk on his face spoke worlds. Junkrat rarely had the context clues of facial expressions to tell when Roadhog was teasing.

“Ah, go to hell!” He returned the smirk as he leaned up to kiss Roadhog, hands gripping his face.

Junkrat was buzzing with excitement -- he had been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever -- and he was in no mood for pretending to be chaste. He kissed Roadhog insistently, grinding against him with needy abandon.

“You weren’t kidding,” Roadhog grunted when Junkrat gave him a moment to breathe.

Junkrat giggled helplessly.  ”I toldja I need to get laid! No, no, I know exactly what I need...”

He dropped to his knees, snickering to himself, but Roadhog wasn’t having any of it.

“Stand up,” he said, voice suddenly sharp.

Junkrat straightened out, intrigued in spite of himself. “Okay, suckin’ ya off can wait. What you got in mind?”

The line of Roadhog’s mouth hardened. “Nothing. The mood’s gone.”

All of Junkrat’s levity evaporated instantly. “The mood’s-- what the bloody hell are ya on about, ‘the mood’s gone?’ Not like somethin’s changed.”

“It has.” There was something odd in his voice, but Junkrat was too angry to discern the reason behind it.

He was, in a word, pissed off. “Oh, you’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me-- again? What the bloody hell is yer problem, ya son of a bitch!” He didn’t think before he acted. He rarely thought before he acted; his body had a mind of its own, and it ran several seconds ahead of his brain. He snatched Roadhog’s gas mask off of his head so that he could properly glare at him.

He realised that he had gone too far the second it happened, but any regret he felt was instantly replaced by awe.

He had, in some sense, known what laid under Roadhog’s mask. He’d felt the full canvas of his face the first night they kissed, in the pitch black darkness of Ava’s living room. He’d felt burnt flesh, and he saw the corner of a scar every time Roadhog bared the lower half of his face to eat something or to kiss him. But actually putting all those pieces of knowledge together and seeing it as a whole was an entirely different story. It was one thing to know, in theory, that his partner was a burn victim. It was another thing to actually see the damage left behind: the twisted, darkened skin that covered the upper right side of his face, a tapestry of whorls that immortalised the incident that left Roadhog scarred for life.

The left side of his face didn’t fare much better, as Junkrat saw the full extent of the scar he always got a glimpse of -- a nasty gash that curved up Roadhog’s cheek and over his eye, the remnant of some nasty incident that he had never confided about. He looked like he’d been through hell and back.

Junkrat loved it.

His hand automatically drifted up to Roadhog’s face, unable to resist the urge to touch the textured surface of his skin.

He never got that far, however, as Roadhog snatched the mask back from him and pulled it back on, obscuring his face from view once more.

Then Roadhog’s hand was at his throat, fingers just tight enough to remind Junkrat that Roadhog had the ability to kill him at any given moment.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Roadhog growled, his voice low and dangerous.

It was entirely inappropriate, given the situation, but the sound of his menacing voice and his chokehold flooded Junkrat with arousal. He couldn’t help it: a nervous giggle slipped out of him, which only added fuel to the fire of Roadhog’s anger. “I, I won’t,” he managed. “Just thought--” He didn’t know what he had been thinking, but Roadhog mercifully interrupted him before he had to think of an end to the sentence.

“I don’t care what you thought, I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to take this from me unless I say so.” Roadhog’s grip tightened, and Junkrat nodded wildly, entirely aware that he had overstepped his boundaries. Roadhog’s gas mask was his lifeline. Beyond keeping his lungs in working condition, it shielded his disfigured face from the world. It was a part of his identity, and Junkrat knew in retrospect that he had no right to forcibly take it away without Roadhog’s consent. He clearly hadn’t been ready to show Junkrat the extent of his damage, or else he would have bared his face a long time ago. Now, he couldn’t even do that on his own terms.

The regret was back, slightly overtaking how turned on he was at the moment. He tried choking out an apology, but he wasn’t sure how much of it Roadhog could understand through his constricted windpipe.

Whether or not he had heard him, Roadhog released his grip and stormed off, leaving the room entirely. Junkrat heaved a breath, his lungs working like bellows as he tried to replenish the lost air. He sat down on the edge of the iron bed frame, thinking as he fiddled with his hands.

Roadhog didn’t immediately return, so Junkrat got up to search for him. He found him deeper in the bunker, further away from the entrance than they had thus far ventured. Roadhog was sitting on the floor, torch shining on a wall that displayed old street signs.

Junkrat sat down next to him and drew his knees to his chest. “Sorry.” He drew a line in the dirt on the ground with his finger. “Shouldn’t’ve done that. Yknow me, don’t always think before I do shit.”

“No. You don’t. “

“Just kinda snapped, like. Didn’t think I was that disgusting, that you really don’t want me gob anywhere near ya.”

Roadhog’s head snapped up in alarm. He apparently hadn’t considered this interpretation. “No. No, it’s not that.”

“Well, what the hell else am I supposed to think? You shut me down every time I wanna go down on ya, y’said it was kinda my fault why. Pretty sure it’s cause I’m all like this.” He gestured vaguely at his body. He wasn’t entirely un-self-aware, he knew what he looked like to others: dirty, freakish, just plain screwed up. He was the furthest thing from conventionally attractive, with bulging eyes, clumps of missing hair, and a concave stomach.

“Sorry.” Roadhog shook his head. “I messed up. Didn’t think about how it’d look to you.”

Junkrat gave a shaky laugh. “Guess we’re more alike than we thought, ain’t we?” At least he wasn’t the only fuckup in the room.

A puff of laughter escaped the filters of Roadhog’s gas mask. “Guess so. But it has nothing to do with who you are as a person.”

“Then what?” Junkrat asked, expression helpless as he looked up at Roadhog. “What’d I do? If it’s not about me as a person, then why ain’t I good enough? Y’like me enough to pash me, but not enough for anything past that.” He averted his gaze, going back to tracing patterns on the dirty floor.

“Junkrat.” He looked back up at Roadhog, who took his face into his hands, solid and warm amidst the omnipresent chill of the bunker. “I don’t just like you. I love you. Even when you’re an asshole.”

Junkrat was at a momentary loss for words. He loved Roadhog -- of course he did, he couldn’t live without him in his life, and it wasn’t an entirely hyperbolic sentiment -- but neither of them had ever expressed it in such plain terms. It had never occurred to him to say it out loud before, truth be told.

Roadhog sighed and dropped his hands. “Don’t know how to talk about it without sounding stupid. I’ll explain tomorrow.” Junkrat nodded numbly. “Get some sleep.” He stood up and left Junkrat alone to collect himself before finding his own way back to their living quarters.

“Love ya too, ‘Hog,” Junkrat mumbled into empty air. He touched his cheek. It was still warm from Roadhog’s touch.

 ---

 Junkrat couldn’t sleep that night. He spent most of it working on the omnic in intervals, not wanting to disturb Roadhog’s sleep with the torchlight. It was an extremely delicate procedure -- akin to brain surgery, he thought -- but after a few hours of on again, off again work, he was able to integrate the Boss’s central processing unit. All that was left was to repeat the process they had began with Yongary by transferring the god program with Jae-won’s code to a hard drive and hooking it up to their newly frankensteined host.

It won’t be long now, he thought, before we’re gods.

That was, if there even was a “we” after the next day’s conversation.

It seemed like he had finally just drifted off to sleep when he felt Roadhog stirring beside him, and then it didn’t matter how tired he was, he was up.

Junkrat anxiously waited for Roadhog to enlighten him.

“You remember when we were in prison?” Roadhog began.

“How could I forget?”

“And you sold your cellie’s cigs to Belmont. Like an idiot.”

“Sure did,” Junkrat agreed.

It was a testament to his occasional thick headedness that he didn’t know what Roadhog was driving at until it was spelled it out for him.

“So you remember blowing him to get them back?” Roadhog said, blunt as ever.

“Oh.” He remembered. It hadn’t been his idea, and he’d desperately tried to make sure Roadhog knew that. “Well, yeah, but -- y’know I didn’t want to do that, roight?”

“That makes it worse,” Roadhog emphasised. “That’s all I see every time you get down on your knees.”

Junkrat tried to picture the scene as Roadhog had witnessed it: the sight of him on his knees, Belmont’s hand on the back of his head, forcing him down and gagging him. He had the sneaking suspicion that this was one of those times where his lack of social interaction outside of the Junkers had altered his perception of reality compared to Roadhog’s. It had been an unpleasant experience, but he had agreed to degrade himself for a few short minutes if it meant getting what he wanted out of it. Whether or not he wanted to do it was inconsequential: he had endured it, celebrated what he gained as a result, then promptly dismissed it from his memory.

He plopped down on the edge of the iron bed frame, suddenly boneless. He was almost let down by the revelation, that the reason why Roadhog had been consistently turning him down was because he couldn’t stop thinking of the scene he had walked in on all those months ago. “That’s it?” he said aloud.

“Yeah,” Roadhog said, and the sullenness in his voice made Junkrat sit up straighter. “That’s it.”

“Not-- not that I’m sayin’ it’s wrong of ya!” Junkrat hastened to say. “Just-- big guy, I didn’t think it’d be something y’d get hung up on, y’know? Tell ya the truth, I’d already forgotten it happened meself,” he confessed.

“I didn’t.” Junkrat watched Roadhog’s fist clench into a tight ball. He slid off the bed frame to sit next to him and uncurled Roadhog’s fingers so that he could hold his hand.

“I know. I mean, I know now. So it’s not the grandest of memories! Who cares, I’m all yours now, ain’t I? Not like that’s ever happenin’ again, so y’can just go ahead and forget all about that.”

“I car--” Roadhog seemed prepared to argue against Junkrat’s entirely unprofessional and uninformed opinion on psychological matters, but something inside of him gave way. “Yeah. You’re mine.”

Junkrat grinned. That, at least, was something they could agree on. They were both greedy by nature, an amalgamation of a lust for wealth and material pleasures and a magpie-like affinity for anything shiny or off-limits. It stood to reason that their possessiveness extended to each other. After all, they were all the other had left in the world.

“So why can’t I make some good memories to replace that? So y’just think of me blowing you, not that creep. Reprogram yer brain, like. That seems like a legit thing.” He nudged Roadhog. “Yer all I got eyes for, mate.” When Roadhog didn’t immediately answer, his nudging turned into wriggling, until he was on top of Roadhog and draped over his belly.

Roadhog looked down at him. Junkrat raised both of his eyebrows as if to say how ‘bout it?

“Fine. It’s not like I haven’t wanted to, it’s just...”

“Yer brain bein’ stupid. I get it, y’know me, my brain’s all holey, y’can’t help it. But-- but you just said yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yes!” Junkrat rolled off of Roadhog and hopped to his feet, giggling in unbridled delight and immediately undoing his belt. In his haste to pull his shorts down, they got tangled in his boot. He stumbled and would have fallen over had Roadhog not grabbed his elbow to steady him. “Ta!

With the warmth of the space heater to keep the chill at bay, he shed his sweater and reached for Roadhog’s. He wanted to feel his skin pressed flush against his own, and he did so the second he wrestled the offending garment off of Roadhog. Junkrat hugged him tight with an ardent, “Ya won’t regret this, promise!”

He fell to his knees in front of Roadhog, and he could see him tense up, a warning hand automatically reaching for his head. Junkrat paused with his hands on Roadhog’s belt buckle and looked up at him. After a moment, Roadhog relaxed, the stiffness visibly leaving his muscles as he worked his way past the instinctive reaction. He loosened his grip on Junkrat, threading his fingers through his spotty hair instead.

Encouraged, Junkrat went back to undoing his pants, giddily tittering to himself. He moaned when he finally -- finally -- got to see Roadhog’s cock. “Oh, mate, it’s better than I imagined.” Roadhog laughed, and Junkrat’s eyes darted up to look at his mouth. He rarely got to see that beautiful grin, wide and arrogant, with a chipped canine that mirrored Junkrat’s gold tooth.

Even half hard, Roadhog was impressive in size, and Junkrat touched him with a reverence he usually reserved for his newly conceived creations. He stroked him one, two, three times, until he could feel the steady thrum of his dick pulsing with arousal.

“Get on with it,” Roadhog said, his deep, gravelly voice interrupting Junkrat’s mesmerisation.

Junkrat burst into manic giggles, shrill and out of control. “Gladly!” He all but melted on the spot when he wrapped his lips around the tip of Roadhog’s cock. It made his jaw ache, his mouth stretched to capacity, but if anything, the pain made it better. It reminded him that this was real, not some particularly vivid wild dream, a fantasy concocted by his thirsty subconscious. He closed his eyes in utter bliss as he lapped up the precum dripping down the underside of Roadhog’s cock, savoring its faint taste before sucking on his head in earnest. He was physically incapable of taking more than an inch or two due to its sheer girth, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Drool trickled out the corner of his mouth. He couldn’t regulate his saliva when he was compromised like this, but it wasn’t a downside, in his humble opinion. He used it to slick up the palm of his hand and jerk off the considerable amount of dick he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

Junkrat couldn’t help but moan around Roadhog as his head bobbed up and down. He hadn’t so much as touched himself, but he was already hard, obscenely excited, and convinced that he could get off hands-free, as long as he could suck Roadhog’s cock.

But his self restraint could only last so long, and it was mere moments before he was rutting against the metal of his right hand. He had never been very good at controlling his baser instincts.

In his defence, he had been waiting for this moment for a very long time. His enthusiasm was bound to get the best of him.

“Stop.” The hand in Junkrat’s hair tightened. “Junkrat, stop.”

The words dimly registered somewhere in Junkrat’s mind, and he chose to ignore them. He was too eager, too caught up in his rhythm, too overwhelmed by sensation to heed Roadhog’s wishes. If anything, it made him more desperate, more determined to make Roadhog come in his mouth.There was nothing he wanted more than to taste him.

Roadhog involuntarily jerked forward as he came, forcing Junkrat to take more of him than he’d thought capable. His throat spasmed around him before he recovered and pulled off of Roadhog with a hoarse gasp.

“Oh,” was all he managed, shuddering. He tipped his head back with a blissed-out grin, eyes closed and tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“You didn’t listen when I told you to stop,” Roadhog accused.

Junkrat cracked open an eye, his grin turning sheepish. “Sorry, sorry, I knew ya were close to finishing, and I just really wanted it... bit selfish of me, maybe.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Uh. Why didja want me to stop anyway?” He needed to know just how bad he should feel about not obeying.

“I wanted to finish closer to you.”

Junkrat was intensely relieved. “So, not bad at all?”

There was a beat of silence as Roadhog tried to connect the two unrelated sentences. “What?”

“Never mind, never mind, move past it. So, ah, what was that about me finishing?” He smirked, eyebrow cocked knowingly. He loosely circled the base of his dick, his hips canted upwards in invitation.

“Too late.” Roadhog’s voice was dispassionate and calculated. “If you want to finish, you’re going to have to work for it.”

“What!” Junkrat yelped, the smirk vanishing. “Why?”

“You kept going when I asked you to stop,” Roadhog said, as if it was obvious. Maybe it was. Junkrat wasn’t always good at recognizing the obvious. “You violated the cardinal rule of sex. Get yourself off.”

Junkrat’s face dropped. He scooted closer. “C’mon, not even a l’il helpin’ hand?” he bargained.

“No. You need to learn a lesson.”

Junkrat emitted a long, guttural groan of frustration, head tossed back to properly convey his displeasure.

“Not helping your case.”

He shut up. With a scowl, he licked the palm of his hand and stroked himself. Spit and precum made an acceptable lube, but no form of jerking himself off could compare to someone else’s touch. Roadhog wasn’t going to budge on this front. Maybe there was a moral to the incident after all, although he wasn’t totally sure what it was. Listen to Roadhog when he gave him an order, maybe. Still, Roadhog never seemed to mind all that much every other time he ignored him, so he was a little fuzzy on where the line was regarding when he could and could not disobey him. Maybe it was a consent thing? This, too, was confusing from his standpoint -- Roadhog had wanted to be blown in the first place, so wasn’t that consent enough to keep going? -- but it sounded right to him.

With this in mind, he tried asking, “Can I, uh…” Junkrat groped for the right words but came up empty-handed. He figured it would be easier to show than tell, so he straddled Roadhog’s thigh and looked up at him questioningly. “That a thing I can do?”

“Don’t expect me to do anything. But yes. You may.”

Junkrat shot him a dazzling grin. “Don’t need ya to do anything! Got all I need right here.” He patted the meat of Roadhog’s upper leg and chortled.

Roadhog folded his arms across his chest. He was not impressed, which only made Junkrat laugh all the harder. He flung his arms around Roadhog’s neck and rubbed up against his thigh.

“Ooh.” He bit his lip and leaned into the sensation, pressing down harder. “Come on,” he whined, grinding his hips into Roadhog. It was impossible for him to stay still, and he was already unwinding his arms from around Roadhog to reach for his hand instead.

Roadhog didn’t curl his fingers around him like Junkrat had hoped for, but he let him push up against him with shameless abandon. Junkrat thrust up against the palm of Roadhog’s hand, babbling nonsensically the whole time. “Oh, fuck, ‘Hog--” His next few words were indistinguishable even to himself, but he did manage an audible, “Don’t stop!”

“I’m not doing anything,” Roadhog pointed out.

Junkrat wasn’t listening. A stream of curses bubbled from his lips, and he groped for Roadhog’s free hand so that he could guide it to his mouth. Roadhog still wasn’t participating, but he let Junkrat slobber over his fingers. It wasn’t terribly sexy, but Junkrat was so far gone that he didn’t care; he let himself get lost in sucking on one of Roadhog’s fingers while he rutted up against his other hand.

    Roadhog, to his credit, humoured him for longer than he normally would have before he gently tugged both his hands away so that he could lean back on his palms. Undeterred, Junkrat went back to rubbing up against Roadhog’s thigh, hands splayed across his chest.

The friction was overwhelming. He panted heavily, tongue lolling. Even with Roadhog’s utter lack of involvement, he’d managed to work himself into a feverishness, his head hazy with a mounting pleasure that threatened to overflow at any given second.

Roadhog’s voice cut through the fog in his head. “Stop.”

Junkrat’s first instinct was to disregard the order and finish grinding himself to completion, but he remembered the displeasure he’d faced the last time he’d ignored a request to stop.

He whimpered but stilled himself. He was a mess, all drool and precum and ragged breathing, and he was so close to the edge that the frame of his body trembled with the effort of containing himself. “I--” was all he managed before his voice cracked. He swallowed and tried again. “Do, do ya need me to get offa ya?”

He could hear the smile in Roadhog’s voice. “You listened. Good boy.” He wasn’t going to reward Junkrat by touching him where he most desperately wanted to be touched, but Roadhog reached up to cup Junkrat’s face with one large hand.

Junkrat pressed into the contact, rubbing his cheek against Roadhog’s palm.  His half-lidded eyes drooped shut. “Y’wanted me to,” he mumbled.

Roadhog sounded pleased, and that was reward enough. “Exactly. And no, I don’t need you to get off of me. But you can get off on me.”

The permission from Roadhog, allowing him to come, was all he needed. All that pent-up pleasure peaked, and he fell apart with a shuddery gasp, his hips jerking up erratically as he spilled across Roadhog’s stomach.

Roadhog patted his head. “Good job,” he said, his voice a low rumble, and the quiet praise made Junkrat shudder from head to toe. The tension of keeping himself in check dissipated, all the sexual frustration vanishing entirely. He was too blissed out to hold himself upright any longer, so he simply sagged wordlessly against Roadhog’s chest.

They stayed like that for a few long, peaceful minutes, until the room’s damp chill became too much for them even with the space heater’s glow. They slipped back into their clothes and under their now fairly dirty mink blankets.

Junkrat nestled against Roadhog’s side, slinging a leg over his thigh.

“Better?” Roadhog asked.

““Mmm hmmm,” Junkrat hummed in bleary agreement.

“Good. Maybe now you won’t be so useless,”

Junkrat snickered and nuzzled his head closer. “Only if we do this on the reg. Can’t promise I won’t get all loony again if ya go back to rejectin’ me all the time for a stupid reason like that.”

“Deal,” Roadhog said.

They fell asleep together, safe and snug and completely content.