Summary: The weather is hot, Shinsou's in a tank top, and Bakugou feels like a fucking creep. (Bakushin feat. fem!Shinsou)
Additional prompt used: Insecurity
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Hitomi always ran cold. Even as Spring turned to Summer, she preferred her drinks hot and wore her hoodies and sweaters. While everyone else was begging the Support Department to make adjustments to their costumes to make them even a little bit cooler, Shinsou was still running around covered in mostly black with her scarf on top of it. Now that they were dating, Katsuki often had to deal with Hitomi's icy fingers greedily seeking to sap him of his body heat. He often liked to grumble about how he was just a glorified hot water bottle to her, and that cheeky little shit didn't even deny it.
But even someone as cold-blooded as Hitomi had a limit, and that limit came in the form of the worst heat wave the country had seen in decades. This was finally enough to have her sweating. For the past week she had abandoned her hot drinks, made adjustments to her costume, and she had even resorted to wearing cooler clothes outside of classes.
It was this last change that left Katsuki trapped in his own special kind of hell.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hitomi asked.
They were in Katsuki's dorm room, hanging out. Both of them were on his bed with some distance between them (it was way too damn hot for cuddling) with Katsuki's room fan barely making a difference even at its highest setting. Katsuki, already prone to sweating thanks to his quirk, was sweating even more so. He wasn't sure that he could blame it all on the heat, though.
Hitomi was down to a tank top and shorts, her long hair twisted up into a bun. Katsuki hadn't even known Hitomi owned such clothing items before the start of this heat wave. He wasn't used to Hitomi showing so much skin, and the sight was more distracting than he'd like to admit.
The proof of all her hard work during training was on full display. Her strong arms and shoulders, her powerful, long legs. As she pushed herself into a comfortable position on his bed, her arm muscles had flexed and Katsuki was sure that he was going to be thinking about that for weeks. Then there were her curves, the slope of her bare neck, and her skin, smooth with the occasional scar. And fuck, what would she feel like beneath his finger tips, what would she taste like-
He was such a goddamn pervert.
"'s nothing," he pointedly looked away from her. His palms were sweating like crazy, any more so and they'd actually become a hazard.
"ā¦sure," she said doubtfully. She shifted nervously in place and great, now he'd gone and made her self-conscious.
The thing was, before Hitomi had come along, no one had ever caught his eye the way she did. Not girls, not boys, not anyone. For a while, he was sure that he just wasn't interested in dating or anything that entailed. Then she came crashing into his life with her sarcastic wit and her fierce determination and it didn't hit him immediately, but when it did, holy shit. Suddenly his heart was racing, his chest aching, and his eyes seemed drawn to her every move. It was like he'd experienced some kind of awakening, but only for her.
The romantic part of it, as maddening as it could be at times, was the easier part of this to handle. It was the rest of the feelings that Hitomi inspired in him that left him feeling like that grape fucker Aizawa had expelled back in their first year.
He hadā¦ thoughts about Hitomi. Wants. Fantasies. He thought a lot about her skin warming beneath his touch, the sounds she might make if he kissed her neck, how she might look at him when they- fuck, it was so embarrassing and distracting. She was just so painfully attractive to Katsuki and after going so much of his life not feeling a thing for anyone else, it was a lot to process. He had no idea if he was being normal about it or if he was a fucking freak.
Hitomi nudged his leg with her foot and Katsuki nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Fuck! What!?" he snapped at her, unable to hide how startled he was.
Hitomi took it in stride, those eerie yet pretty eyes of hers staring right into him. "Okay, now I know something's up. You've been glaring at the wall like it shot your dog. You didn't even hear me talking to you."
She pushed herself up and crawled closer to him. If Katsuki thought he was sweating a lot before, he was about to become a literal time bomb. Now that she was right next to him, he could see the sweat glistening on her skin, and if he looked down, he would see- he was not going to do that. He kept his gaze firmly on her face as he went red all the way to the tips of his ears.
Hitomi poked his arm, "alright spill, Kats."
"It's nothing, it's just- fuck-" he took a deep breath and looked away from her again, scrubbing his hand down his sweaty face. His hand came to rest across his mouth and he said, muffled, "you lookā¦good."
There was a beat of silence, sweat continued to pour off of him. Maybe he'd just get it over with and blow himself up right now.
"I lookā¦ good?" she echoed, sounding confused.
"Yes, goddamn it. You look really fucking good right now," his hand moved to cover his eyes.
"Oh, um, thank you?" she sounded unsure, and he really hoped he hadn't just freaked her out. "You lookā¦really good too?"
Katsuki dropped his hand from his face and risked taking a look at her. Hitomi looked so bashful, with an unsure smile and a pink flush on her face that was undeniably endearing. His heart thumped painfully in his chest.
"You're just so fucking pretty all the time," he found himself confessing to her. "And I don't know- I fucking think about you so much and I don't want you to think I'm a creep."
There, it was all out in the open now. If Hitomi got upset there was a perfectly good window in here for Katsuki to launch himself out of.
The blush on Hitomi's face deepened but she wasn't saying anything and it left Katsuki's mind in an utter panic. Just when he was thinking about trying to somehow take back what he said, she spoke up.
"Wow, uh- well, I don't think you're a creep for that? I mean, I think about you a lot, too, soā¦ if you don't mind that, then I don't mind you thinking about me. I kind of like the fact that you do, honestlyā¦" she shrugged.
"You like it?" he questioned.
"Yeah? I mean, it's nice to know that the guy I'm with thinks I'm pretty and is, uhā¦ having thoughts about me?" she worried her lip, and his eyes followed the motion of it.
Katsuki felt himself grow even hotter, still nervous but a lot of the embarrassment was fading away now that Hitomi wasn't rejecting him. His mind focused in on one thing, "you've been thinking about me, too? Like what?" he asked, leaning in.
Hitomi's eyes widened and then narrowed, "nah, you first. You started this."
Katsuki sputtered, "fuck you, I asked first!"
"Come on," Hitomi smirked, leaning in as well, "tell me what dirty thoughts you've been having about me."
Katsuki was going to explode this goddamn building, "d-die."
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"Isn't it weird that [thing humans commonly eat] is poisonous to literally every domesticated animal" I mean, there's a pretty good chance that [thing humans commonly eat] is at least mildly poisonous to humans, too. One of our quirks as a species is that we think our food is bland if it doesn't have enough poison in it.
Humans have a really weird mix of mundane superpowers.
We're not fast and don't have a lot of natural weaponry but we're bizarrely tolerant to a broad range of toxins to the point that one toxin is considered a morning necessity for some to perform at work. Gotta love us.
*producer about to make one of the worst seasons of television ever put to screen* surely writing purely in reaction to what the fans are saying on twitter will work out great for us this time
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Hi, these bees are babies! Theyāre not clumsy at all, this is what is called orientation flights. After birth and before beginning their careers as foragers (as all Honey bees cycle through all the jobs in the Hive throughout their lifespan), Honey bees take short flights back and forth, to and from the Hive, to orient themselves with their wings and their home so they can learn its location and how to get back home after foraging! Everyone has to learn, these are just smol little baby turkeys. Bees use the angle of the sun for location so adults have a better and more direct sense of location than any human
I have a new standard for the level of haterdom to aspire to, and it's Reddit User KismaiAesthetics, who hates doing laundry so much that he got really good at it, so that he can (I quote) do it right the first time, every time, and get back to watching cat videos on the Internet.
and by "really good at it," I mean that he does a bunch of reading on the chemistry of laundry, subscribes to academic journals about laundry, and buys a bunch of different laundry products (including from outside the US) to scrutinize their ingredients and test them for himself. he writes a bunch of incredibly detailed longposts about his findings on /r/laundry and his website, which is also about laundry. he even got interviewed about his laundryposts, in which he revealed he's writing a book about laundry. this man is like ahab and the white whale, if ahab had a reddit account and moby dick was a pile of clothes with cheeseburger stains on them
anyway the reason I encountered this guy was because recently, the household washer has been leaving these gross little oily brown flakes on anything washed in it. this is kind of a big problem for me, given that I not only have (literal, diagnosed, medicated) OCD which includes a contagion phobia, I also sew a bunch of stuff with the intent of gifting or selling it, and sometimes that involves prewashing fabric. only, you know, washing is supposed to make things cleaner, not dirtier.
and my research brought me to (gross photos warning!) Kismai's post on the very topic. apparently this stuff is called "scrud," and it's basically a residue that forms over time inside the nooks and crannies of a washing machine - leftover detergent reacting with mineral traces in tapwater to form a buildup that also traps dyes, grease, and other dirt, which bacteria then feeds on, because it wasn't already gross enough. it forms faster if you have hard water, use too much detergent (which most people do), use fabric softener, wash only on cold and the list goes on and on - point is, scrud is the reason that you have to actually clean your washing machine, or be super fastidious about how you do laundry.
(I'll take "things I wish school/my parents actually taught me" for 800)
so now I am engaged in a lengthy battle against scrud, armed with a tub of oxiclean and a sack of citric acid crystals. (we're renters, so disassembling the machine is out of the question.) pour in a scoop of oxiclean, run a machine clean cycle, pour in a scoop of citric acid, run another machine clean cycle, all while wiping piles and piles of scrud out of the drum at the end of each cycle. I'm on the eighth cycle now. there's still so much scrud. the reddit record for "how many cleaning cycles were needed to get a machine entirely free of scrud" is 22 cycles. help
it turns out that laundry sucks significantly less when your clothes and sheets and etc actually come out of the machine looking, feeling, and smelling clean, rather than looking, feeling, and smelling like despair dipped in slime
like, I have this pillowsheet I call my Depression Era Pillowsheet, because during a Real Bad Time of my life when 90% of all I could do was lie in bed and cry, that was the pillowsheet I laid and cried on. this went on for weeks, and it was never changed out because, again, 90% of my waking hours were Lie In Bed And Cry Hours. it did eventually get changed out, but no matter how many washes I put it through, it remained stained and slimy. like I'd throw it in every time I washed my clothes and it would still come out feeling like someone had applied a fresh layer of Weeping Slime Laminate to it. someone with more sense probably would have thrown it out but idk, I just never did for some reason
anyway! taking some pointers from the freaks over at /r/laundry, I grabbed an enzyme-based detergent, a booster (thing of More Enzymes and oxygen bleach that you add alongside detergent to make it clean gooder), and washed everything on hot (in a machine without a scrud problem), including the Depression Era Pillowsheet. it finally came out looking and feeling like fresh clean cotton?? what?? I hadn't even done the whole "soak it for 24 hours in various unsettling substances" thing??? wack
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I have a lot of pet peeves but I think the biggest one is when people say things likeĀ āoh itās such a small town, only 35,000 peopleā like bitch my town has 200 people, you need to pick a new adjectiveĀ
According to Wikipedia, a small town is 1,000-20,000 people. So although you are correct in stating that 35,000 people is not a small town (it is a large town), you are incorrect in thinking that you live in a town. You live in a village. You are a villager.
yeah golden retreiver boyfriends are great and I've met several personally, but personally I have a house cat boyfriend
extremely affectionate despite of seeming aloof and politely distant to unfamiliar people
my friends have seen him irl less than 5 times in the five years I've had him - if I invited people over he would hide under furniture until they're gone
haha you got up from your work desk, time for unskippable 35 minutes of kisses and cuddles
can and will throw up out of sheer anxiety because Things And Events Are Happening that do not even involve him in any way
can instinctively sense exactly when I am going to decide I'm done bedrotting and will climb on top of me to cuddle exactly 3 minutes before I was just about to get up
can be placed sideways on any soft surface at any time of the day and immediately takes a five hour nap
cannot eat or drink in unfamilair places. can and will go 16 hours without food or water if the situation is uncomfy.
unhelpful but valiant efforts to try to protect and rescue you from things and situations that he would personally hate being in, out of not understanding of Why Are You In There Voluntarily
will come show me incomprehensible memes the same way a cat will bring you a random bug. thank you. I do not understand it but I know you brought it to me because you love me.
Okay... so this is right up my alley.
More weird whimsy and quirk in the romance genre... and more jaded suffer-no-fools women, instead of the creepy age-gaps, please and thank you
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they should legalize polyamory. everywhere. and im not kidding at all. if someone wants to marry multiple people they should be allowed to. for any reason.
before anybody tries to say some bullshit about this, extending the definition of marriage to include multiple people would give members of religions forced into abusive polygamy the same rights any divorcing spouse would have without putting them at risk for being charged with bigamy. this would make it easier for people to leave abusive plural marriages.
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