#Recs.

[pennyserenade]

i’m aware i have a wide range of individuals from many fandoms here, but i believe there’s a cary grant movie for everyone, so here are my recommendations:

for the x-files fans who enjoy the film noir energy: notorious (suspense, tension, the best chemistry you ever did see between two people aside from mulder & scully)

for the x-files fans who enjoy episodes like bad blood: arsenic & old lace (do NOT look anything up about this film before you see it. go into it with zero ideas about what’s going to happen and you’ll have so much fun), bringing up baby

for the x-files fans who love fox mulder because he is impassioned and stubborn and always getting himself into trouble: talk of the town, north by northwest, suspicion

for the javier peña lovers: people will talk (i know you love a good man who’s trying to protect a woman), north by northwest (i also know you love a man who can’t seem to stop getting himself into bad situations)

for dieter bravo lovers: the awful truth, the philadelphia story, his girl friday (all part of what i lovingly refer to as the cary grant ‘husband to ex-husband to husband again’ universe. what is dieter bravo not, if a man that annoys you so bad you divorce him but then charms you again so you remarry him?)

the hunger games fans: the eagle and the hawk (this is what they call a pre-code film, which means it was allowed to be a bit more like the films we have today. it’s deeply sad but incredibly powerful movie about the dangers of war and it what it does to people), holiday (much less serious but very anti-rich people), the talk of the town (i know you all love a good rebel)

[femaholicc]

Oh yummy

caitvi fuckgirls x virgin!reader

femmepussy (cait) + butchcock (vi) = deflowering you

tw; sorority!caitlyn & fratbro!vi bc i succumbed to lust, virgin!reader, voyeurism, masturbation, pussyeating, pussyfucking, praise, mild agegap (senior!caitvi x freshman!reader). wc; 2.2k

they’re no strangers to bringing girls home. they’ve refined it to an art. or at least, caitlyn has. vi is still prone to flash a wink with a drink clasped in hand, and a sleazy (though it looks more sultry, on her), “my girlfriend and i saw you from across the bar, and..” when she’s feeling real lazy.

it still works, of course. of course it does. who wouldn’t want to get in-between the most legendary couple on campus? fraternity president and sorority president, all at once—college politics aside—it’s anybody’s wet dream.

tonight, it’s your turn. if the two pairs of hands wandering up your body downstairs, we’re anything to go by—and the matching smirks curving their lips as you were led gently away from the party and into one of the rooms above (door, plastered with a VI, to leave no room for argument. the frathouse always did throw the grandest ragers).

caitlyn leans against the doorway, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek as she eyes down the both of you, shamelessly. the room is plastered with posters you think your dad might've liked when he was sixteen, and countless football trophies and college memorabilia. not that analysing vi's room decor is exactly what's on your mind, right now—not when you're splayed back in the middle of a double-size bed, sheets crumpled under you, with aforementioned room owner sprawled in the space between your legs, her girlfriend steadily approaching, from the side.

"shit. you're just a lil' baby, huh?" vi's eyes are lidded as she plays with the hem of your shorts, pink hair all ruffled. her big hands swallow the span of your thighs, and she grins, lazy, at the sight.

"vi. don't be crass," caitlyn chastises, like her gaze isn't practically stripping you down with laser-focus. she honest to god licks her lips; because—who wouldn’t? pretty girl on a pretty girl, laid out like a pair of perfect presents, upon the bed. "you'll scare the poor girl."

"oh, c'mon, cait." vi grins, "i know the thought of defiling a freshie gets you wetter than a supersoaker."

this is all moving so fucking fast, you almost feel dizzy. can't breathe, because—well—holy fucking shit. as if your ramping discomfort is sensed, a calloused hand rests on your shoulder, and the tension melts away.

"you can't get better than us," vi soothes, in her smug, infinite wisdom. "just relax, sweetheart. we'll take good care of you." her hands are already snaking under, before a little tutting noise halts her movements. vi's head snaps up, like a puppy to a clicker, the beginnings of a despairing frown marring her pretty features. caitlyn’s smirk is gloating.

"take an off-side, darling. i found this one, first."

vi's jaw drops, shooting upwards in incredulity. "what? but—"

caitlyn shoots her girlfriend a sharp warning glare that sends a jolt of lighting straight to your cunt, and vi wilts like a curling petal, sulking all the way to the couch on the opposite-end to the bed. she collapses, legs swinging wide in the most egregiously delectable manspread of all time. the position shows off the most insane boner you've ever had the pleasure of seeing. the tent spears upwards like a fucking skyscraper, towering up at the crotch of vi's jeans as it's if attempting to burst free from its restraints.

then, vi's fly comes loose, and the veined girth of her cock slaps out in all its glory, bouncing against her toned abdomen and smearing a trail of slick behind. thick, hot-pink hairs crawl upwards from its base to just under her belly button. the aftermath of pre-cum glosses over locks, glistening under the dim lights.

oh, god. this is better than porn.

"see that? that's all for you." caitlyn purrs, and the red flushes to the tips of your ears, blood roaring. you don't even realise you've let out a whine, thighs shifting subconsciously, when vi grunts out a low, "fuck," and palms her dick.

caitlyn's tongue wraps around the swollen nub of your clit, and all of a sudden, you know exactly why people say caitlyn's tongue is like silver. she works, languidly, at first. heat licks up your thighs, and out of the blurry corners of your vision, you can see vi's hand wrap around her cock. caitlyn laves up the nooks and crannies of your folds in little flicks, gaze gossamer as the ferocity of her eyes pin you down.

plush lips barely graze your cunt, and humiliatingly, a garbled moan wrenches from your throat, body snapping taut with the force of an elastic band, caitlyn freezes, and you're made intimately aware of just how wet you are, and you've done nothing but squirm a little as they simply take their positions.

"don't be embarrassed, lovely," cailyn laughs, when your thighs quiver like they're about to squeeze shut—keeping you spread open, with the press of a palm, nails grazing up your abdomen. "it's flattering."

what caitlyn finds, in the first fifteen seconds of eating you out, is that you are extremely fucking sensitive. by the nth jerk of the knee, and those delicious, strangled whimpers that stream out of your pretty panting mouth; she has to ask.

"is this your first time?”

"why?" your hands are fisted into the sheets, knuckles bled white. "is it bad? am i bein’ bad?”

oh, caitlyn's always been a sucker for the whimpering type.

“no, darling,” she coos, nosing up the wet headiness of your pussy, pupils edging out the sharp, cerulean blue of her irises because, oh, she can’t let you realise just how wet you’ve just made her. a virgin. she can feel her already-damp panties, become renewed with a gush of slick as she slides her hands up your thighs, groin subtly grinding through her clothes and against the edge of the mattress because—fuck.

"fuck, i'm so hard," vi whines, a little desperate as she makes the widest puppy-eyes from the sofa, cock drooping in her hand as it pumps out an insane amount of pre like it's nobody's business. her knee has been jostling up and down like it's about to jackhammer a hole in the carpet. she's teetering on the precipice of simply exploding all over the two of you, eyes glazed over as her teeth grit in the effort to restrain herself. because if she cums; caitlyn won't let her fuck you, and call it the alcohol, her dick, or pure, dumb horniness; but there is literally nothing she wants more on this earth, right now—than to bury her cock inside of you and fuck you to oblivion.

caitlyn, however, is playing your pretty virgin pussy like a fiddle. you thrash, back, on the sheets, slew of broken moans torn from your lips. she’s drunk on lust. god, the way you tremble under her, bundle of nerves reacting to each and every one of her barest licks with the harshest gasps or clamp of your thighs. you’d have her wrapped in a headlock, by now, if it weren’t for the force in which she’s a splayed you open—right for vi’s prying eyes, as the older girl furiously fists her cock, frustration burning in her gut at being forced to only look, but barred to touch.

"cupcake," vi pleads, as both you and caitlyn's gazes turn on her. yours, baleful and uncomprehending, hips canting uselessly to chase after caitlyn's retreating mouth. she hushes your whimper (but coos all the same).

"i'm dyin', here," vi moans, and with the flushed tint of her cheeks and sweat glistening in the creased furrows of her brow; hand quivering around her dick—she almost looks like she is. caitlyn laughs, and your pussy throbs when hot breath gusts against your clit.

caitlyn sighs, exaggerated. the both of you can see the smug glint to her eyes, at the way she's worked both her babies, up. (and what a slip of the mind, that is? not an hour in the bedroom, and she's already calling you her baby. their baby.) she lifts up from between your legs, with one last kiss planted directly onto the deliciously glossy wetness of your swollen clit (yes, you shake), before coaxing vi forwards.

vi lunges forwards, like a starved lion thrown it's first scrap of meat, and suddenly the silken fingers dragging up your thighs and the soft lips kissing teasingly along your folds—is replaced by a desperate, fervid nuzzling and slobbering, as vi mouths desperately up your legs.

"i gotta—" she mumbles into your cunt, hands spreading you so wide they almost hurt. "i need—baby—please. i gotta be in you. i gotta— y'pussy smells so good. looks so pretty an' wet an'—" her growls are practically gibberish. caitlyn snorts. she, too, is partial to seeing vi a drooling mess.

you don't have much mental space, to do more than nod, heart thudding out of your chest. distantly, you hear a groaned "fuck, yes!" from underneath you, though any further processing that (surprisingly adorable) comment—is wrenched away by the vi is clambering on top to mount you, flat of her dick sliding along your folds. you both gasp, your chest lurching upwards—before caitlyn's manicured hand pushes you right back down.

"relax," she coos, as vi's weight sinks on top of your thighs, "it'll be easier, that way." vi is practically trembling in an attempt not to just ram herself into you. her head brushes against your core, and it feels like water. vi moans, almost buckling in anticipation. "can i please—"

you think maybe caitlyn nods her head, or gives some other indication of affirmation; because you can't see anything but spinning stars in your vision the second vi pushes, into you.

you're forced to turn your head, biting into the sheets to stifle what you're sure would be screams—until caitlyn gently takes your head, and shifts it to bury between her thighs. the heat from caitlyn’s core is distracting and tempting and has you drooling, though completely useless to do anything but pant and moan and mewl, helplessly into it, as vi‘s cock plows into you with a fullness you’ve never felt before.

“careful with her, baby.”

“i’m trying,” vi huffs through gritted teeth, her own eyes burning because her head is whirling with entirely unhelpful thoughts, like, holy shit, is she the first one to use your tight little hole like this? and oh, fuck, am i good? am i hurting her? this is her first time. shit. and then, just oh, fuck.

you unravel, midway around the girth of vi's cock. you spam, upwards, mangled croon resonating up and into caitlyn’s cunt, hips bucking up and unintentionally slamming vi hilt-deep, and like a seismic chain-reaction; both of them cry out at once. vi, at the sensation of being completely sucked into the tight, wonderful clench of your pussy, submerged completely in the all-encompassing heat as your orgasm shatters your body and mind into what feels like a million little peaces. caitlyn, can't not cum, with the taste of you still glazing her tongue and the way you cry out, into the sloppy slick of her folds and reverberating to her core. it's not just that, though. it's the way you babble, squirming uselessly as your eyes roll into your head and your lashes flutter like the prettiest thing, mouth lolling open around caitlyn's creaming cunt. it takes, a moment, for the three of you to recover. vi is slumped into your chest, cock still twitching as her head kisses your burning insides. caitlyn's legs have fallen limp. it's only when they start to move, vi shakily, reluctantly, sliding out from your cunt—and caitlyn's thighs, loosening from your shoulders—that you protest.

"wait," you rasp, eyes all glossy as you peer up at them through teary lashes, and fuck, for a moment they think; jesus christ. you might just be the most precious thing in the world. "i— i wanna try." you declare, pushing up weakly on your elbows.

"you want to try?"

"wanna make you feel good," you slur, into her thighs, and unbidden, caitlyn feels a whole new gush of heat rush through and slick your pink-dusted cheeks in an entirely new type of sheen.

"..i always did like the ones with a little initiative."

and when you burrow yourself into caitlyn’s cunt, trying to mimic the motions she’d done before to get you feeling as if you were floating on cloud nine; her fingers card through your hair, and vi rocks her hips, still into you, catching her breath as she nuzzles into your collar.

“..feel so good, baby. doin’ so well.” she pants, thumb running up the curves of your body, eyes lifting to fix caitlyn with starry eyes and caitlyn can’t help but swallow, her fingers quivering as you swirl your tongue like a good little pupil and she arches her head back, satisfied “ah,” shuddering though her. and they realise, then, that they’re kind of fucking besotted.

“can we keep her?” vi murmurs, and you’re so deep in caitlyn’s pussy that you almost miss it. caitlyn’s lips curl upwards, head in a daze, as her grip tightens in your hair—loathe to let you go.

“god, please.”

[just-french-me-up]

'ao3 needs a like and dislike button'

what you need, my algorithm-rotten minded friend, is a grip

[annabelle--cane]

[coughing up blood] please, I require... media that will make me feel as bad as is physically possible...

[femaholicc]

Toes curled

SINISTER MARK BLURB ( SMUT )

"better be fucking grateful i kept you. haaa..." mark's head lolls back as his hips piston into your backside. the world was damn near gone and here you are, getting fucked into oblivion by the man who caused this all.

"nngh! please!" you reach backwards, trying to push his hips away, but to your "dismay" his hips gain speed. he grabs your wrists, pinning it on the dip of your back. "stop. moving."

"so...fucking...tight! might keep you around for longer!" he grunts, tipping closer to you. your body twitches, your cunt spilling and sloshing with his seed. he's dumped into you countless times, overstimulating your body. you prayed that your body could reproduce with vilturmite sperm or then you'd really be fucked.

"look at that little pussy." he coos, reaching his hand around your hips to toy with your sensitive bud. "come on. make a mess for marky." he laughs at your feeble attempts to run away from him. "so sensitive..." he notes, tapping your cunt. he feels you squeeze around him. "there she is." he whispers in your ear.

"squirt for me, bitch."

yummers.

[animentality]

kicking a hornets nest.

[positivewlwvibes]

and if yes pls respond/put in the tags with what you’re reading and whether or not you like it i need new books for the new year <3

[sarahmackattack]

One last talent show to save the rec center

Ok everybody here's the deal.

My science education nonprofit, Skype a Scientist (you might know her, creator of the squid facts hotline and matcher of classrooms + scientists) has secured absolutely no grants to support general operations for 2025. But! We're selling advent calendars to fund our program! They absolutely rule. They can save our nonprofit asses. If we sell 5000, which I realize, is so many, we can fund our program for 2025. Then I can offer a bunch of programming for free. Running a nonprofit is a weird job.

Every day, counting down to frankly whatever you want (it's usually Christmas, but man, maybe you want to count down to Halloween, that's fine by me) scratch off the sparkly sparkly iridescence and reveal a fact about frogs! We have 24 top-notch frog facts here.

You should get one for every kid in your life, then get one for all the adults who still let themselves access joy in critters.

Get 'em here: https://squidfacts.bigcartel.com/

[femaholicc]

min my pathetic baby

HE'S A VIRGIN! — ARMIN ARLERT

thinking about virgin!armin who you first see at a frat party, big blue eyes scanning the room, holding a red solo cup in his hand that he hasn’t taken a sip from since it was first handed to him. He’s here with his friends, trailing behind them like a lost puppy as they socialize with others. He doesn’t belong here, that’s for sure. He was so cute, so shy. A smile crept on your face as you thought of all the ways you’d corrupt him…

“S-slow…down! Ah, please!” He’s begging, tears brimming his eyes. You smile down at him, his pretty moans filling the empty bedroom as you slam your hips down on his cock. His cheeks are flushed red, jaw slack as his eyes roll back. His entire body is limp as you ride him through his orgasm. “Feels so g-good,” he mumbles. He can’t get over how your pussy feels, so wet and warm, sucking his cock right in—so much better than his hand. His cum spills from your cunt, leaking down his shaft and to his balls, creating such a nasty mess between you two.

“You already came!” You let out a breathy laugh, slowing your pace but still grinding against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He profusely apologizes, looking up at you with teary eyes. “Just feel so good, I couldn’t help it.” He sits up, looking at you with concern.

“Awe, Armin, it’s okay.” You lean down, pressing a kiss against his soft, plump limps. You swallow his broken moans as you pick up your pace again, tongue exploring his.

“Mmm, I just came…I—please.” His eyes keep flickering between you and your pussy, watching the way you make his dick disappear. “It’s so sensitive—ahh…mmmph!” His hands grip onto your waist, nails digging into your skin, leaving crescent marks. He stares up at you as if you’re some sort of goddess. He can’t believe that he got you to take his virginity.

“Such a good boy.” Those words flipped something in him, his cheeks burning brighter than before. He doesn’t stop you when he feels your hand snake up to his neck, placing light pressure on it. “So cute.”

He whimpers when he feels you clench around him, growing desperate as he starts bucking his hips up into yours. He’s never been this turned on before, still hard and balls still heavy. He can’t get enough of you. “Keep fucking me, please don’t stop.”

[metamorphesque]

this is what it means to be human

Everything, Mary Oliver

The Breathing, Denise Levertov

A Prayer by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski

Like a Small Café, That’s Love by Mahmoud Darwish (translated by Mohammad Shaheen)

Having a Coke with You by Frank O’Hara

Eating Together by Li-Young Lee

The Orange by Wendy Cope

The Quiet Machine, Ada Limón

To Go Mad, Paruyr Sevak

Our Beautiful Life When It’s Filled with Shrieks by Christopher Citro

Hammond B3 Organ Cistern, Gabrielle Calvocoressi

Peace XVIII, Khalil Gibran

Your Unripe Love, Paruyr Sevak (from “Anthology of Armenian poetry")

Here and Now by Peter Balakian

Ich finde dich (I find you) by Rainer Maria Rilke

The Thing Is by Ellen Bass

One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

Miss you. Would like to take a walk with you. by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

I Want to Write Something So Simply by Mary Oliver

What's Not to Love by Brendan Constantine

Where does such tenderness come from? by Marina Tsvetaeva

You Are Tired (I Think) by E. E. Cummings

Living With the News by W.S.Merwin

What the Living Do by Marie Howe

[tojbnuy]

roommate!sukuna who is having a really hard time with you his new roommate. he thinks he should be offended at this rate. did you think he was gay? what other reasoning could there be for the way you act and dress infront of him. he knew for a fact that when you left the house this morning you had on a cardigan buttoned right to the top. and yet you walked into his room on your way in to show him your new nails and all that covered you was a tiny pair of shorts and a thin tank top with the lace of your bra peeking through.

“kuna looooook i got polka dots and a new shape, do you like them?”

how was he supposed to focus on your nails when your tits were practically in his face, pushed together due to the way you were positioned.

‘yeah brat they’re nice, and it’s cold put some clothes on.’

‘i’m not colddd’ you sing songed on your way out.

and this may not sound so bad, but there was also the time you had gotten your shirt mixed up with his in the wash. and when he had asked you if that was his shirt you were wearing you simply said Oops! and proceeded to take it off then and there infront of him. and only when he saw the bottom of your breasts did he realize you weren’t wearing a bra. he had managed to turn around in time and was perplexed at why you would strip infront of him with the biggest smile on your face. you weren’t even trying to be seductive you were just you. and he was beginning to be offended. why weren’t you attracted to him. he was insanely attracted to you. everytime you plopped down next to him on the couch for your movie nights in your tiny shorts or just plain underwear he’d have to cover his lap with a cushion at the immediate semi. everytime you mouthed off to him he had to convince himself not to put you over his knee. and when you napped in his bed instead of yours and sprawled your legs out as if you owned the place with one of your stupid plushies brought along with you and his pillow shoved between your thighs. that, he wasn’t so mad about however, sometimes it still smelt like you when he was touching himself at night with the thought of your soft body fresh in his mind.

you were frankly becoming a pain in the ass and he was ready to sort it out.

a/n: not proofread sorry. also starting my jjk men as roommates drabbles, feel free to send in suggestions! :) PART TWO OUT HERE

[lakecountylibrary]

🔥 The beacons are lit; the library calls for aid

The Trump administration has issued an executive order aimed at dismantling the Institute of Museum and Library Services - the ONLY federal agency for America's libraries.

Using just 0.003% of the federal budget, the IMLS funds services at libraries across the country; services like Braille and talking books for the visually impaired, high-speed internet access, and early literacy programs.

Libraries are known for doing more with less, but even we can't work with nothing.

How You Can Help:

🔥 Call your congressperson!

Use the app of your choice or look 'em up here: https://www.congress.gov/members/find-your-member

Pro tip: If your phone anxiety is high, call at night and leave a voicemail. You can even write yourself a script in advance and read it off. Heck, read them this post if you want to.

Phones a total no-go? The American Library Association has a form for you: https://oneclickpolitics.global.ssl.fastly.net/messages/edit?promo_id=23577

🔥Tell your friends!

Tell strangers, for that matter. People in line at the check out, your elderly neighbor, the mail carrier - no one is safe from your library advocacy. Libraries are for everyone and we need all the help we can get.

...Wait, why do we need this IMLS thing again?

The ALA says it best in their official statement and lists some ways libraries across the country use IMLS funding:

But if you want a really specific answer, here at LCPL we use IMLS funding to provide our amazing interlibrary loan service. If we can't purchase an item you request (out of print books, for example) this service lets us borrow it from another library and check it out to you.

IMLS also funds the statewide Indiana Digital Library and Evergreen Indiana, which gives patrons of smaller Indiana libraries access to collections just as large and varied as the big libraries' collections.

As usual, cutting this funding will hurt rural communities the most - but every library user will feel it one way or another. Let's let Congress know that's unacceptable.

[femaholicc]

Nerd gojo nerd gojo nerd gojo nerd gojo Nerd gojo nerd gojo nerd gojo nerd gojo Nerd gojo nerd gojo nerd gojo nerd gojo

taking nerdjo’s glasses while you’re riding 🥸

cw. 18+. semi public sex. sub undertones. breeding kink.

“—ohhhh fuckkkkk,”

he doesn’t understand it— any of it. he doesn’t understand how he, of all people, managed to get you. the it girl on campus— with pretty hairstyles and cutesy nails, flocks of both girls and boys crawling after you for the slightest bit of your attention, is somehow interested in the least known guy around— the lanky, socially awkward physics teacher assistant with fading digimon stickers glued to the back of his worn down computer.

gojo assumes he’s experiencing one hell of a good dream. that’s the only way to explain the insatiable feeling of wet heat enveloping his aching dick. it’s the only way to explain the pornographic sounds of skin slapping echoing in this empty library. it’s the only way to explain why his balls are begging for release with each grind of needy hips rocking against his own.

he doesn’t want to wake up. he feels the cheap fabric of carpet beneath his fingernails from digging them into the floor. his knuckles are turning white from how hard he’s clenching. there’s an abnormal tightening of a knot in his guts begging to be snapped. he can feel beads of sweat forming at his hairline and his foggy glasses are slipping past his nose bridge uncomfortably—

but he doesn’t want to wake up.

planted on the heels of whatever latest trendy shoes you own, you’re riding his cock as if he were your lifeline. god you feel divine— your folds swallowing him into your cunt with such ease and precision, walls clenching down the moment he’s balls deep. he can feel your acrylics scratching at his undercut with one hand while the other holds your body steady down his thigh.

gojo doesn’t think he’s breathing, and frankly, isn’t sure if he wants to. you’re reckless— moaning freely in the emptiness of the establishment and right into the shell of his ear as if your birthright, careless of the thuds of heavy textbooks hitting the floor. there’s a crease in your brows and your jaw hangs slack, glossy lips parted as they release the hymns of your cries,

“—so deep, can feel you in my stomach!”

your tits bounce in clockwise motions. you’d freed yourself from your top sometime between the flirting behind bookshelves and his pikachu drawls dropping down to the floor. the sound of your pussy squelching with every bounce is a memory he wouldn’t forget even on his death bed— cunt so wet he can hardly feel his own dick in you.

the pad of your thumb grazes his bottom lip, and you lean forward to catch it between yours. he’s frozen stiff— the slip of your tongue in his mouth, your overwhelming sweetness invading his senses. he’s moaning pathetically, growing some security in the muffled sounds, so overstimulated by this insatiable pleasure that his arms start to feel weak.

your tongue swipes at his lips before nibbling on the flesh, “—taste so good,” he feels your lips mouthing against his own, and wishes he was able to focus for a split second on what you told him, but the ache in balls are a telltale that this euphoric dream is drawing to an end.

he squints his eyes shut. he tries to focus on the latest chapter of his latest obsession manga and theories he’s conspired. he recalls the sneak of his wrinkly old professor’s ass crack from his early lecture. he thinks back on this auction he’s seen online for retro limited edition video games. did he ever end up submitting that biochem lab assignment due—

“gojo.”

he snaps his eyes open. he didn’t realize he’d clenched his entire facial muscles until the moment he was able to see you again— only releasing those muscles feeling tightness in his cheeks (amongst other places)(read: his cock).

you’ve slowed down your pace. you’ve switched your movements from bounces to grinding. he can feel his tip prodding at your gummy walls. your breath fans his cupid’s bow and he’s only now noticing how close in proximity you both are. he can feel your heartbeat against his chest, and he’s positive you can feel his stomach clenching against your own.

he begins to feel more of your body weight on his, a feeling he definitely wants to get accustomed to, as you shift from your feet to your knees. your hand on his thigh trails upwards past his trail of hair, sliding up past the ridges of his abs, over the planes of his chest and meet at his nape with its other duo. there’s an aroma of vanilla and cherries exuding off you—

heisenburg’s uncertainty principle. star wars mandalorian culture. the roswell ufo incident. fucking neon genesis evangelion’s a cruel angel’s thesis—

“you don’t like me?” you ask him, all doey eyed like. it doesn’t sound like a legitimate question, but his ‘huh’ does draw more into a whine when you intentionally clamp down on his dick. he doesn’t miss the mischievous glint in your eyes.

gojo bites down on his lower lip, fiddling with a loose thread on the carpet. his body releases a shudder at the chills creeping up his spine when you trace a finger down the slope of his neck, “w-what?” he asks weakly, huffing as his toes curl in his socks.

this time, you cock your head just barely to the side, and he watches your gaze trail from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips. despite the agonizingly slow pace, you never stop riding him. his cock is still graced by your warmth, still snatching his soul through his slit. your lashes bat twice before glancing back up at his eyes.

“you don’t like me.” you’re not asking this time, your tone dripping in seduction and like a fool, finds himself swayed. you’re teasing him— he can see it in the way the corner of your lips quirk into your infamous smile. you’ve got him wrapped all around your pretty finger— he knows it and you definitely know it.

as if he was anybody to not like you. your ass cheeks clench when you drive your body forward, gripping on his cock so tight he can feel the wind knocked out his lungs, “no! are you, ngh, crazy— of course i do—”

“because i like you.” it falls short of a whisper, but the vibrations of your words against his lips shoot right to his heart and balls, and he knows his blotchy cheeks are now flushed red for an entirely different reason.

he answers faster than his mind can process, his stomach jumping with butterflies and an oncoming orgasm. your eyes won’t leave his— like a deceiving siren baring deep into his soul and rendering him vulnerable before consuming his entire being. not too far from his reality, hips bucking upwards as desperately as possible to emphasize his immediate answer, “i like you too—”

“you won’t look at me,” gojo hadn’t realized he shied away from your gaze, pouring his entire focus on not spilling both his heart and cum right into you, “talk to me.”

“i-it’s just, um,” he tries to flick his eyes back onto yours, but you’re still staring so intensely behind siren eyes and still rocking your hips. your fluids drip past your cunt and down his sack, before staining the carpet, “i’m a—mmph, nobody and you’re— well, you’re you,” he feels a hot tongue glide over the accumulated sweat on his neck and humps up again, “y’re just so pretty and every time i look at you i get the urge to c-cum but,” your teeth sink into his jugular before nibbling and he whines, throwing his head back, “i want— need you to cum first. . .”

there’s a beat of silence for a while. you’ve even halted your grinding altogether. he prays to god he didn’t mess up the one good thing that’s happened to him in all his twenty one years of living. you’ve even popped his now bruised skin from your lips— hovering right over the mark you left on him. pleasure licks at his limbs feverishly, back arching in hopes to dig even deeper (if possible) in your pussy.

you pull away from his neck and the tip of your nose is back to grazing his own. your usually styled hair is now a mess, your skin dampening from moisture and your lip gloss now swapped for your and his saliva— your overall classic, picture perfect image completely abandoned,

and he doesn’t think you’ve looked any prettier.

“so,” you draw out, freeing a hand from his locks to graze over the throbbing love bite at his neck. gojo sniffs, pushing his foggy glasses back up on his bridge with the back of his hand, and you caress the throbbing flesh, “the problem is when you look huh. . .?”

his neck is suddenly released from blissful torture and he feels his frames coming off his face from no effort of his own. his vision slowly fades and his pupils dilate to accommodate to his now poor quality of sight, “what are you—”

and his breath hitches. he can only make out your shape through your sinful curves but there’s no mistake from your silhouette— your hands, now holding his glasses hostage, press at his chest, “trust me,” you apply firm pressure from your palms to his upper body, and he feels himself sinking into the floor, back meeting the dirty carpet.

trust you? he’d lay his life on the line for a woman like you.

his fingers spread as his palms face the sky, and his breath staggered. the bookshelves, windows and study rooms are all blurry as fuck— which is both off putting and extremely risky since library hours were still valid at this time, but despite it all, it felt as if he could see you clear as day. gojo would usually never put his academics on the line, but he couldn’t deny the thrill of possibly getting caught having sex with the finest girl in school in a public library had his cock twitching incessantly.

god, he is just so happy to be here.

your fingers slide his glasses atop your nose bridge, and your cheeks split into a cheeky smile, hips beginning to roll back into their previous tempo. he feels your hands grabbing his own, before resting them at your hips. he’s a greedy man, and since the opportunity may only come once in his lifetime, he slides his hands further to your ass., and with a gulp, grabs the flesh greedily. damn— it hardly fits in his palms.

there’s a symphony of moans coming from you both when you lift your hips up, and it’s downright disgusting how turned on he gets at your essence trickling down his shaft and past his balls. your pussy lips drool and latch onto his tip tightly, before entirely releasing him and slipping your hand between your thighs. you kneed his nuts, fondling the testicles between your digits expertly and his back arches off the floor, “shouldn’t be an issue anymore, yeah?” you hum.

“y-yeah— oh god, yes,” gojo nods dumbly, toes curling in his socks as you proceed to stroke his cock. his tip is weeping in pre cum blended with your own wetness, and the faster you flick your wrist, the tighter his stomach contracts. he’s lasted quite some time now, considering this being his first time and all, but there’s only so much a man can hold back. his fingernails dig crescent moon shapes into the mounds of your ass as his hips chase after your touch with every stroke. “w-wait, fuck, i’m gonna cum—”

“yeah?” you encourage him, hunching just over his weeping dick, still holding him at his base. you drag his tip in between your lips, back and forth, while your other hand feels him up at his abs. “where do you wanna finish? on my face?” he whines, mindlessly humping and your smirk deepens as you slowly sink down, “on my tits?” gojo shakes his head, and feels drool coming from the corner of his lips. his limbs are on fire and his groin feels like it’s on the verge of explosion, “on my ass?” you’re about halfway down, “or. . . inside?”

“please,” he doesn’t care if he’s begging. snowy lashes bat open as his teary unfocused eyes adjust to the dimmed lights. even your silhouette is sexy, “please lemme cum inside, i-i’ll do anything.”

“hmm, anything?” you purr, knees finally hitting the floor as you straddle him once more. he lets out a guttural groan at the familiar feel of your silky walls entrapping his cock. his mind is fucking hazy and despite never having consuming alcohol, he feels drunk.

“yes,” he pleads, rolling his hips impossibly deeper into you, euphoric pleasure shooting in his bloodstream, “a-anything you want, i swear,” at the sudden intrusion, you let out a loud gasp when his tip bumps into your cervix and drop your body forward, arms giving out.

chest to chest, skin to skin, your lips hover over his as your back dips into an arch, forcing a penetration deeper in your guts. your palms are pressed flat onto the floor at the side of his head, and he can make out his glasses sitting lazily on the ball of your nose. he slides his hands up your sides, kneading at every inch of your flesh, before sliding back down to your ass.

“even my homework? assignments?” you tease breathily, a strangled moan ripping out your throat when his knees push up and fucks into you. your body jerks forward as his feet plant to the floor, hands still gripping on your ass.

when he snaps his hips up, you roll yours down, and the matching intensity sends his brain haywire. he’s desperate for release, forcing your hips down as he nudges his cock languidly into your cunt. his jaw falls slack and he nods again, dumbly, “ngh, for the rest of the s-school year,”

“that easy with you?” you giggle, but is easily interrupted when he leans forward to catch your lips in a messy kiss. there’s a shit ton of saliva involved, some even escapes past your mouths and down your jaws, but he couldn’t care any less—you tasted heavenly. he wishes he had the time to eat your pussy, he’s positive you taste holier down there.

“it’s your world.” gojo moans, snaking his hands from your ass to wrap around your upper body. now caught in his embrace, you let your head fall limply into the crook of his neck as he works his dick in and out of you. he means what he said— it is your world, and he’s nothing more than a happy servant. “i’ll do it all— bring your books to class, rub your feet— i’ll bark if you need me to— just, please, please, please let me cum inside.”

your moans vibrating from his neck run straight to his ears and fuels him further. he’s thrusting relentlessly— there’s no set pace at all, and he’s so close to finishing he’s completely forgotten about wanting you to cum first. he finally understands why everybody obsesses over sex— he never wants to let you go.

your head pushes up from his neck, nosing at his jaw. he feels your hands cradling his hair, and your lips pressing kisses at the corner of his mouth. his heart skips a beat— he revels in the attention you’re giving him, even if it’s just for the moment. he knows he won’t ever be this lucky again, so he might as well enjoy the ride while he’s here.

“you wanna breed my pussy?” you bite your lip, each stroke in your cunt jerking the glasses down the slope of your nose. despite the dense flog clouding the lens, he can feel your eyes on him. he nods desperately, tightening his hold on you, and the new angle has your clit dragging against his pelvis, “mmph— okay, yeah — put a baby in me, freak.”

and so he does. he thrusts as spurts of cum shoots inside your womb. his balls tighten as his hips rut, arms clutching onto your body with every fibre in him. you smell good, feel good, look good— and your cunt milks him dry for whatever he’s worth.

his orgasm feels short of an eternity yet simultaneously a second, his soul having transcended into an outwardly dimension. and it’s only when you scoot your ass upwards, sliding a hand between both warm bodies, that you collect his cum on the pad of your fingers. he blinks hazily, zeroing his focus when he sees you pop your fingers into your mouth.

“mhm,” you hum at the taste. he’s panting heavily, body riding a euphoric high he’s yet to come down from. you don’t seem to mind, leaning forward to catch his lips once again. and he lets you, moaning at the taste of himself on your tongue. when you pull away, there’s a thin string of cum induced saliva pulling at your lips. “‘s my world, right? want my pussy in your mouth.”

and he instantly hardens.

[copper-meadows]

It terrifies Bruce, a little, that the first time Batman and Robin pull up to a mauling victim, Robin is acutely calm.

The girl is young, and Batman and Robin were made known to the scene pretty quickly as Batman scares off the dog with a taser.

Despite being the adult, he balks a little at how well Dick handles the toddler in front of him.

Later on, when the girl is seen by paramedics and the mother is finally calmed after being assured that the only physical damage present would be some scarring on her left leg, Bruce takes Dick out for ice cream for being so brave.

Then again, Dick was the one to threaten death upon his parents' murder at the ripe age of 9.

But the incident is filed away, deep in the archives of the BatComputer.

Dick is much older, and has seen much more, but he's still calm when one of his brothers is half-torn apart by a shark on an impulsive surfing trip with their hero friends.

Everyone is panicking because as much as they'd loathe to admit, seeing something that gory is so completely different than being in costume (because being in costume means they're at the very least prepared).

But Dick is calm, and his first aid more immaculate than ever.

When someone asks him about it, how he can stay so calm, he's suddenly 7 again.

He's 7 again and watching his Uncle-not-really-uncle getting mauled by one of the sick tigers. He's watching as his father rushes to help and calms the crowd down.

When he asks his father why he was not scared, he receives this.

"I was terrified for my friend, but panic makes your hands shake, makes you slow. He did not need my fear, he needed me."

Dick tells them that.

[goryhorroor]

imma say something controversial but found footage horror when done by people with a gigantic budget suck. found footage horror has and will always belong to amateur horror directors with their cheap camera, friends as their actors, and some random location