#and acid-base reactions

[soarrenbluejay]

Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

[sereneabyyss]

While I'm glad my classes are giving me more fun ideas for fucked up science in a world created by a man who doesn't know fuck all about science. Can my classes please give me the time to write said ideas please begging on my hands and knees I want to write Shen Yuan yelling at Airplane about his bad science.

Like please I just want

Sy: why the fuck did the nectar turn pink

Airplane: oh the dirt's acidic.

Sy: what

Airplane: yeah, that flower is used as an indicator of poisons, it turns pink when in the presence of acids... Word of warning, most poisons in this world are acidic.

Sy: WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU NEED ACIDIC POISONS DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT POISON IS

Airplane: BRO BRO I NEEDED A WAY TO INDICATE THERE WAS POISON! THE NECTAR HAS PHENOLPHTHALEIN

Sy: ... YOU HACK THAT'S NOT EVEN HOW PHENOLPHTHALEIN WORKS?!

Significantly later

Sy: why does my soup smell like mac n cheese cooking

Airplane: you remember what I said about poisons being mostly acidic?

Sy: .......... I'm going to go kill a coward, and then you're next

[tallymali]

It's so weird that for all the talk about "unhealthy power dynamics" or whatever, so many people just don't consider that some percentage of people will abuse those they have power over. Men abuse women when they have power over them. Parents advise children when they have power over them. Guards abuse prisoners when they have power over them. Prisoners aren't getting abused because one of them dressed to sexy! Children aren't getting abused because child actors are being too sexy on the teevee! So why would it be true just for women?

EXACTLY! unfortunately discussion of social hierarchies is harrowing and difficult, and dealing with them is a very slow arduous task that very often feels so so hopeless. it is absolutely easier to just blame it all on the women who “misbehave”

[chaoticbuggybitchboy]

The next person who acts like ocd isn’t a serious debilitating mental illness is getting their shampoo and conditioner replaced by bleach and ammonium respectively

[liass-21]

sobs and shits and pisses and screams (midterm in one hour and i’ve barely studied because i’ve been in a constant state of eepy since thursday)

[sujooon]

Discover the significance of understanding buffer solutions in laboratory settings. Learn how these essential solutions maintain pH stability, crucial for chemical and biological processes.

[spread-the-influence]

For every toxic VirusBlossom, there's a required wholesome post-fluence Ragapom /j

Sighs yeah it's like acid-base reactions in chemistry i have to balance out the toxic yuri with wholesome yuri

[paradisewithinpain]

my take on "the hero would sacrifice you to save the world but the villain would sacrifice the world to save you" & tf141....

DARK THEMES, PLEASE BE WARNED

we all know these men are soldiers through and through. they put their lives on the line for the good of the world and they do it no questions asked.

but when it comes to you?

fuck that

there is nothing, and i mean nothing, that will stop these boys from keeping you alive and happy.

JOHN PRICE knows the power he holds. he knows the respect and fear that ranks both above and below him have for him. he knows that and he's going to abuse it when it comes to you.

you come to base and someone's bothering you? they're answering to a pissed off captain who doesn't give two shits about the morality of his punishment. as long as his love is happy, he's happy.

and who cares if he sends that idiot of a soldier into a situation where he's sure there's a good chance he won't make it out? price claims it to be "good experience". no one but him needs to know that it's more of an execution than anything

SIMON RILEY is the guard dog you never thought you'd need but boy are you glad you have him. walking places is a mindless activity knowing you have a giant of a man watching every single moving thing that enters your presence.

he was a weapon of mass destruction when he wanted to he. and when you came home crying, telling him about the store clerk who yelled at you because you tried to them that they over charged you for an item, he knew that his brute strength was needed.

and who cares if the store clerk was found outside in the alley by the shop, their face bashed in over and over and over again until they were almost unrecognizable? that's one less employ the store had to pay

JOHNNY MACTAVISH is a dedicated lover and an even more dedicated demolitionist. he's constantly showing you his silly little notebooks that are detailed with fun chemical reactions and ways to make green fire using sugar and boric acid. it's always fun to keep you entertained and a smile on your face brings a smile to his

but when you come home from work and that smile is no where to be found, he's immediately inquiring why. when you tell him about your shitty boss and the horrible way you've been treated, he's immediately pulling out his notebook and distracting you with silly chemical reactions and even putting on a small show for you to cheer you up.

and who cares if a week later your boss was found dead in his apartment, some type of untracable lethal poison infused in his coffee? you had always liked the assistant director better anyway.

KYLE GARRICK was a sweetheart through and through. he sweet talked his way into your life and you're glad you let him. his affirmations were always what you needed and when you needed. the way he'd hold you in his arms and whisper all the incredible things he saw in you never failed to warm your heart. he was observant and smart, seeing right through you and everyone else around him.

so when you had to delete a few nasty messages on social media after kyle made a post about you, he was less than pleased. he took you and your happiness very seriously. he posted you because he wanted to. he loved showing you off and he wanted the world to see how happy you made him. a few anonymous profiles weren't going to change that.

so who cares if their names, jobs, profiles, browsing history, and text messages were all exposed? the nasty information was all kyle needed to know that those men would never see the light of day again

[cryptotheism]

These stages can additionally be broken down into several steps. The number of these steps will vary from alchemist to alchemist, but the most common form of the process involves ten steps. They are: 

Calcination. Meaning oxidation by heating. Whenever you see an alchemist describe somemthing as a “Calcinate” that means its oxided. Rusty iron is “Iron Calcinate” old green copper is “Copper Calcinate”

Solution. Meaning ”dissolution in “sharp” (or mercurial) liquids.” This means breaking a substance down by bathing it in acids. 

Putrefaction. Decomposition. Now that you’ve broken your substance down with acids, you gotta boil it in warm compost to induce fermentation. This part turns a nasty black color, and is often described by alchemists as the “Black Raven” which is soon ressurected as the “White Dove.” Thus marking the end of Nigredo, and the beginning of Albedo. 

Reduction, The recovery of the fugitive “spirits” (Spirit in this context means a volatile substance) during the calcination process by means of a fluid (“philosophical milk”), whereupon a yellow coloration (citrinitas) appears. Basically, you’re adding back what you boiled off earlier. You know you’re doing it right when it turns yellow.

Sublimation. Adding the volatile, “spiritual” matter back to the vessel causes a violent reaction, and a red coloration. Alchemists often describe this as the raging of the “red dragon.” This is where Rubedo occurs. 

Coagulation or Fixation. The reaction dies down, and the substance begins to solidify. This is the coagula part of solve et coagula. Congratulations, you have yourself some stable Prima Materia. 

Fermentation. This is a rare step. Some alchemists like to add a little bit of gold at this stage to act as a sort of “Yeast of Gold” to speed up the process. 

Lapis philosophorum. The Philosopher’s Stone! Now your prima materia can grow into ultima materia, (supreme matter). This bit is usually described as a heavy, dark red, mildly shiny, powder or stone. When you heat it up, it turns kinda waxy, but solidifies again when it cools. (What the alchemist has probably done at this point is produce mercury(II) sulfide, better known as Cinnabar.)

Multiplication. Now that you have your philosophers stone, you can shave off bits of residue, and use that to make more. Like a mushroom. 

Projection. So you’ve got your Philosophers Stone, time to make some gold. All you gotta do is get some Philosophers Stone dust, and mix it into your base metal. If you’ve done your alchemy right, it should make the base metal change color until it looks like gold. In later, medical applications of alchemy, this is the point where you apply your panacea. 

I do my best to explain the Magnum Opus, today on Patreon

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧’ 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞.

cw: squirting, p in v, teacher kink, slapping.

.⋅˚₊‧ ��� ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚

another day rolls by and you’re in a chemistry lesson, the material seeming unable to permeate your brain. all this talk about acids and types of reactions is not doing it for you this wednesday afternoon. yet you still try to get notes down from the lesson, wanting to consolidate your knowledge. the sky is settling into a mellow blue to match the mellow hue in the students’ hearts. you’re just looking forward to this day being over.

a soft thud of a paper lands on your desk. you blink and glance up. it’s your teacher, giving you that smile that’s part-pity, part-apology. group project time. from the moment you could think, you’ve hated group projects. having to slow your roll so you’re on board with the rest. having to stay quiet so they don’t complain that you’re too bossy. having to let people research things incorrectly, therefore reducing the validity of your assignment and lowering your score. you think it’s a stupid thing to have to go through. it would be much more effective if you just did it on your own.

in some classes you get lucky and the teachers let you work on your own, in other cases, no students partner up with you and you’re left as the odd one out.

what? it’s not pathetic. you chose this.

acid-base reactions in everyday life.

seems simple enough. you begin to get ready to put your head down and start your research, until “need someone on your team?” a cheery voice says to you from above. looking up from your papers you see the owl-like boy, with his frosted tips, who is smiling so widely. then you look behind him and notice oikawa and kuroo, the two shitheads who are also grinning.

a simple ‘no’ is all you say, before turning your attention back to the homework sheet which is explaining the assignment.

“please?” oikawa says, the three of them inch towards you, it’s almost scary.

“no. go away.” you say again, rejecting their advances. they sure are persistent.

“go away? did you hear that?” oikawa says shocked. you don’t even have to look to guess that he’s dramatically placing his hand on his chest and looking offended. you just shift your body towards the wall and away from them.

“I totally just heard that.” kuroo responds.

bokuto chimes in too, adding to their nonsense.“that is no way to talk to someone.”

“ugh. what do you want from me?” you finally say, turning back to look at them but visibly annoyed. most classmates would have left you alone by now. but not these ones.

“we want to be in your group.” bokuto states, his hands on his hips, highlighting his physique underneath his shirt.

“what?” you ask, “wouldn’t you say you would want me to join your group? since you’re actually a group?” they collectively appear slightly defeated at your statement.

“exactly. we need someone smart like you so we can understand the content.” bokuto says, justifying his previous statement.

you chuckle, looking at your paper again, “i am not falling for that. you just want me in your group so i do all your work for you, an that’s not happening.”

“isn’t that what you were going to do anyway?” oikawa asks.

“i was but, it’s different if i was only doing the work for myself to begin with. i am not your slave. our agreement didn’t say i had to do your homework too.”

“careful how you speak missy.” kuroo says, and you bite your tongue. your teacher is looking at you, maybe in hope. maybe thinking to herself, ‘finally this girl is able to get people she will tolerate in her group’- and though you don’t really care to let her down like that, a voice in the back of your head reminds you that the teacher writes your references for you. if they all collectively write about how antisocial you are that is bound to leave the colleges with bad tastes in their mouths. so you smile. you swallow it all down—the bad feeling you’re getting from this, the voice in your head screaming ‘NO! NO!’—and reluctantly allow them.

“you can join my group if you’d like.”

one point for their team.“that’s great. isn’t that great guys?” oikawa says.

“so great.” kuroo responds. they all pull out chairs and sit around you, prepared for your first instruction, yet all you can think is please leave me alone.

flipping the sheet, you begin to create a list of things for everyone to do. these morons would not be able to sort it out for the life of them. although your actions are pointless and the risk is far greater than the reward, you try anyway. “whatch’a doing?” bokuto asks in your ear, his body pressed up against you, dangerously close, as he invades your personal space. that alone is enough for you to snap, but you take a second to push down your emotions again and keep calm.

“making a list.”

“why?”

“so you know what to do.”

“can’t you just tell us?”

you have to stop yourself from strangling him and ripping his head off. he’s too close so the idea is tempting.

“if i just tell you, someone may forget, then it’s up to me to fix the missing work like the night before.”

“woah. why is the finish time in 1 week and not 2?” he exclaims, placing a finger on your estimated finish date. this news causes the two boys to perk up.

“because if i don’t keep you guys on a schedule, all hell will break lose. that is not happening. not under my watch. hey-” your planning sheet gets snatched by kuroo, and both him and oikawa inspect it from the other side of the table.

“you cannot expect us to do all this per day.” kuroo says, your face heats up from embarrassment, “there’s no need. just take it slow like everyone else.” he pushes his sheets towards you and it nearly flies off the table, before placing his hands lazily behind his head.

“we aren’t like everyone else. that’s why i’m me and they’re them.” you explain, avoiding eye contact.

“okay, but we’re not you-” oikawa starts but you interrupt him.

“my group. my rules. you said you wanted to join my group after all didn’t you?”

silence. that’s what i thought.

“okay great, now all of you hold unto your piece of paper, if you lose it i will execute you. do not try me.” you explain, cutting of the pieces of paper with a ruler, then distributing it.

“damn girl. can’t we just have a little bit of fun?” oikawa asks, crossing his arms on the desk and laying his head on them.

“school is not fun.” you say blatantly. that’s an obvious fact.

“no way. from the way you treat it, i thought that you threatening boys to do their work in a week gave you a rush.” kuroo jokes. this causes the other boys to chime in as well.

“yeah i thought you were all like, ‘can’t wait to go to my next class.’ “

“waking up all happy and shit before school.” bokuto laughs, slapping his hand on the table loudly. the loud sound draws the teacher’s attention towards your desk and you quickly give her a reassuring smile.

“believe it or not, i am a normal person. i’m just taking school seriously because i wan’t to have a life when i grow up. you know, outside of forcing girls to do whatever they want for you.”

the laughter from before completely dies down. there isn’t a hint of giggling in the air. there’s been a shift in mood.

“so do you like have a teacher kink? do they get you all hot and flustered?” a shift in mood that bokuto does not pick up on. the question alone has your eyes widening ever so slightly. you’re scared someone in your class has heard that. you kick bokuto and keep your head down, staring at the piece of paper in front of you.

“we cannot be talking about this right now and no. please shut up.”

“Hmm, fuck yea.” you sigh, bokuto’s hand placed firmly on the small of your back as he pounds you down into the desk table.

okay, it’s true. you hate to admit it, but you do have a teacher kink. it’s scary how well he guessed that especially after he got everything else wrong. they really do get you all hot and flustered, which is a shameful thing to say but it’s true. “there’s a good girl, do you wanna answer my next question now?” he asks, lifting your head off the desk with one hand, admiring your fucked dumb face. it’s after school hours and the student council has just finished. bokuto made it crucial to be right on time, swooping right through the doors as soon as you opened them.

“what do you want?” you spit, irritated that you had to end off your day seeing one of those useless boys.

“woah can i not come and meet my project partner and ask her for help on the tasks she assigned me?” he asked innocently, leaning against the door with one arm as the rest of the council filed out of the room.

with an annoyed huff you agree, “fine, but make it quick.” and that’s how it started, with him enquiring about the project, sitting on your office chair watching with wide eyes, and you leaning against the edge of the table. from him sliding his hands up your thigh, the infamous distraction point, and getting you flustered, to getting you to lay on the table, flipping your skirt over as well.

the oak table beneath helps to cool you down as your body heats up from this exertion. “now tell me something else that we learnt this chemistry lesson.” he instructed, his large hand smoothing over the flesh of your ass, soothing it from his previous slaps. you would answer his question, easily, but it’s getting hard to focus when he seems to be reaching deeper than before because your leg is propped up on the table.

“um,” you squeak, clawing at the table as though that would help you gain mental clarity. “there are… um.. fuck. there are acids and metal reactions too.” you’re barely able to get that sentence out and white head decides that it’s not enough.

“you’re my prime student, i’m sure you can do better than that.” he says smoothly. you’re ticked off that he thinks and says things so smoothly without it having to require 80% of your brain power to generate a sentence. “can you do better than that?” he asks, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“mhfuck. yes.”

“yes, who?”

“yes sir. um when acids and metals react they- they can make umm, they make-” your head drops down, hot forehead touching the cool table. “i’m close. i’m close.” you respond breathlessly.

“that’s not the answer.” he laughs, finding your state amusing. “even i know that.” dramatically slowing down his thrusts and landing a harsh slap on your ass. you feel your eyes glossing over with tears, overwhelmed by sensations.

“no don’t slow down again. don’t stop.” you cry, your cheek staining with your tears.

“answer my question then, what do they make when they react?”

“they make salt and hydrogen gas!”

he takes a brief moment to think,“shii, i don’t know the answer to that one either so imma give it to you.” you mentally scream in frustration at his response, you went through all that mental fatigue only for him to not know.

“you wanna come baby girl?” he asks, sliding his hand up to the side of your hip.

“yes, fuck yes, please.”

“you really have got a foul mouth. i better train that habit out of you next time. but i guess you deserve this.” his thrusts grow sloppier as he gets close too. sound of the table rocking and scraping the floor, fill up the room. you’re quivering and shuddering as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. you feel like you’re in a different dimension, and with the final thrust, his tip brushes against your cervix. you feel like you’re in heaven.

“yes, fuck, oh god, yes right there!” you exclaim, your body surging with pleasure. “oh my gosh, didjust pee?”

“no, but you did squirt though,” he replies, amused, parts of his sports jersey soaked,a wide smirk on his face.

⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚ ⋅.⋅˚₊‧ 🜲 ‧₊˚

(please send a dm or comment on my the pinned blog to join.)

taglist: @slutkoo

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[hellothisisangle]

This idea came from someone asking me about V’s internal organs and gastro/intestinal workings. I delved into a bit of bio/mechanical research that might make sense in the Cyberpunk world. Follow the jump below!

↓

SomaTek specializes in manufacturing synthetic organs designed to transcend our organic limitations.

SomaTek GastroPro™
In a world ravaged by toxic food chains, tainted water supplies, and unreliable agriculture, the GastroPro™ synthetic stomach- amply nicknamed “the iron gut”- is a feat of mechanical organ replacement. Capable of digesting virtually any hazardous or non-nutritive substance without harm, while mimicking and surpassing the core functions of a natural biological system.

The GastroPro™ environment utilizes a stabilized industrial-grade acidic solution (SomaTek’s trademarked confidential blend of fluorinated superacids exceeds the hydrochloric acid and pepsin present in an organic stomach) that is non-corrosive to internal components due to reactive smart hydrogel linings. This acid bath breaks down everything: from your home cooked dinner, to food past its expiration, to actual garbage- designed to adapt to a full range of ingested toxicity. After processing, the liquified matter proceeds to a secondary chamber which is programmed with enzymatic nano filters to separate and neutralize indigestible items versus actual processable materials. *Note that the GastroPro™ is incapable of operating in isolation. The following organic systems are required to be enhanced or replaced:

Esophagus (GastroLine™) is equipped with reinforced smart hydrogel lining to withstand both caustic substances and abrasive matter. Peristaltic actuators move matter regardless of shape or size, while micro-blade emulsifiers begin compacting particularly dense or fibrous materials. Anti-reflux valves prevent acid from backing up.

Liver, Pancreas, Gall Bladder (GastroTox™ Subsystem) further supports the GastroPro™ by processing even rarer or complex toxins, capable of converting them into an array of energy for the body dependent on specific inputs. For example: chemical, electrical, first and second generation biofuel, etc. (Optional but highly recommended)

Intestines & Appendix (GastroTract™) serves as the primary absorption and release unit. Lined with nutrient-binding nanites to extract usable calories, vitamins, minerals, or chemicals. Absorption channels direct these throughout the body via embedded villi structures to the bloodstream and lymphatic system. In users with further modifications, waste may be redirected to a bypass port location of their choosing. The most popular choice being via a urinary tract.

Oral Cavity (OraPro™ Subsystem) is a customizable sum of parts that further supports the GastroPro™ with an artificial tongue embedded with gustatory receptors, reinforced cheek/gum lining, and teeth strong as chrome. (Optional but highly recommended)

Brain Chemistry (CraveShard™) the neural implant designed to be installed into the cyberdeck to simulate, regulate, or even suppress cravings. (Optional but highly recommended) The user may override urges based on their schedule and preferences, as well as control serotonin and dopamine feedback. The implant works harmoniously with receptors built into the GastroPro™ to recognize the identity of consumed materials. It can even reproduce the effects caused by ingested alcohol, hallucinogenics, opioids, narcotics, etc.

Advantages over natural digestion include immunity to internal poisoning, pathogens, parasites, and contaminants. Zero indigestion, zero allergic reaction. Accelerated enzyme breakdown. And multi-source nutrition: users can derive sustenance from otherwise indigestible materials.

Please be aware the GastroPro™ is not without its complications. Over-reliance can result in malabsorption issues if the user abuses the capabilities of the GastroPro™. Care should be taken to continuously ingest products with beneficial properties. In the event of nutrient deficits, the user’s deck will receive periodic warnings regarding nutritional supplementation to prevent systemic decline. Psychosomatic disorders may also emerge as a result of losing sensory pleasure of consumption (“digestion dissonance'”- disconnect with satiety) if the recommended OraPro™ Subsystem and CraveShard™ are not installed.

Regular care encompasses monthly detox flushes, filter replacements, nanite reseeding, and pH rebalancing treatments. All of which can be accomplished via a doctor licensed to administer Somatek devices.

[gingerteafairy]

Hi Angel!!! I just discovered your account and I luvsss itt!! I was thinking maybe you can do A Todd x reader, where she is a popular girl and he is the same old loser? Idk if you would like it 😭 Keep up the great work! 💕

suree, i just love writing about my favorite loser. tysm for appreciating ❤️‍🩹

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 (𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐝 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

You need help in chemistry and luckily Todd Haynes is the monitor. You’re pretty sure you’re getting the cutest chemistry private lesson ever.

tags n warnings: smut,dom!reader,sub!todd, KINKS, cockwarming, aftercare,handjob, unprotected piv,pet names,cursing,he's such a nerd. word count: 3.7k masterlist

"How about we skip chemistry today?" Your friend Ally suggests, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she flashes you a grin that could light up the whole school. Her fiery red hair bounces as she tilts her head, clearly expecting you to be on board. "I’ve been dying to try out that new ice cream shop near my house."

Hailey, never one to resist fun, claps her hands together like she's just heard the best idea ever. "Yes! Let’s make it a full-on girls’ day!"

"Oh my God, Ally, that sounds amazing!" you say, practically bouncing on your toes. "I could really use some new mascara, too." You pause, suddenly thoughtful. "But... my chemistry grade might actually die if I skip today. And well, I was looking forward to today's class," you admit. "We’re mixing acids and bases to create colorful reactions. It’s like a science experiment with rainbow explosions. How fun is that?"

Ally raises an eyebrow, her mouth curling into a teasing smile. "Wow. You really are a nerd, huh?" she says, flipping her hair as she opens her locker and adjusts her pink tank top. "I can’t even remember the last time I paid attention to that bald guy’s lecture."

"I’ll share my notes later, silly girls," you tease, giving them both a wink and making a heart shape with your hands.

Hailey practically launches herself at you, wrapping you in a tight hug. "You’re the best!" she gushes. "I swear, you’re like an angel with a perfect GPA."

You laugh and hug her back, feeling warm and fuzzy. "Alright, alright. Enough with the mushy stuff. I’ll see you guys later, though!"

As you walk toward the chemistry classroom, you spot a group of boys hanging out near the lockers. Dave and Martin are laughing, but it’s the boy standing next to them that makes your heart do a little flip. You’ve seen him around school before, but today? He’s definitely caught your attention. He 's cute. Messy brown hair falls just above his chocolate doe eyes.

What really gets you is that every time your eyes meet, he quickly looks away like he wasn’t expecting you to notice. You smile to yourself, amused and a little flustered as you head into the classroom.

You barely hear the teacher’s voice when he starts talking. Your mind’s still stuck on the cute guy in the hallway. That’s when the door creaks open, and he walks in—trying to be all sneaky through the back. His sneakers squeak loudly, and you can tell he’s hoping no one notices him.

Your heart skips a beat when his eyes lock with yours. You can’t help it—you smile, and even throw in a little playful wink. He glances around, clearly checking if anyone else saw the exchange, then looks back at you. You lean back in your chair, mouthing a casual "Hey."

His face instantly turns a shade of red you didn’t even know was possible. You giggle softly, and he shyly points to himself, his voice barely a whisper. "Me?"

You nod, trying not to break into a full-on grin.

"Late again, Mr. Haynes," the teacher says, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"Sorry, Mr. White," the boy mutters, quickly stuffing his hands in his pockets. He glances up just in time to see you lightly tap the tip of your pen to your lips, pretending to concentrate on your notes, then shoot him a cheeky grin.

The teacher shakes his head, unimpressed. "You’re lucky you’re the class monitor. Sit down, Todd. Try not to act like you’re starring in your own spy movie, alright? You’re the only one who knows anything about this subject."

Todd. You finally know his name. How had you never noticed him before? And he’s the monitor? This could be your chance.

As he walks toward an empty desk, you lean over and whisper, your voice playful and sweet. "Hey," you say, catching his attention. "You wanna sit with me?"

He freezes for a second, eyes wide, like you just dropped a bomb. Then, realizing he’s in a classroom full of people, his voice cracks as he repeats, "What?" His cheeks instantly turn even redder. The teacher shoots him a warning glare, and he drops his voice, practically whispering now.

"Sorry! Um, sorry," Todd stammers, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, looking around nervously but also a little excited. After a beat, he slowly walks over to the desk next to yours, trying to act casual but failing miserably. "I—I guess... if you don’t mind."

You watch as he sits down, and you can’t help but notice the faint blush coloring his cheeks. It’s so adorable. You’re so close you can smell the faint citrusy scent of his cologne. You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, pretending to take notes as you steal glances at him.

Todd dives straight into the chemistry experiments, his focus sharp as he explains the reactions to you in the calmest, most effortless way possible. It’s like he’s been doing this forever. You almost forget you're in class—until your heart does that fluttery thing every time his eyes meet yours. You’re pretty sure you’re getting the cutest chemistry lesson ever.

"Thanks for… the seat, Y/N," Todd mutters, his voice barely audible. He glances at you for a split second, then quickly looks down at his desk, fidgeting with the books in his backpack like he’s trying to distract himself from how nervous he is.

You can’t help but smile at his awkwardness. "How’d you know my name?" you ask, walking beside him in the hallway, tilting your head playfully.

“Uh… I asked Dave,” he mumbles, clearly flustered. You lean in a little closer, pretending to be intrigued, though you’ve already heard him loud and clear.

You just can’t resist teasing him. After all, he's been adorable all day. You shift slightly, letting the sweet fruity scent of your perfume reach him. "Sorry, Toddy. What did you say?"

"Toddy?" His face turns brighter than a tomato, and he runs a hand through his messy hair like it could somehow make him less embarrassed. "I—I asked Dave for... the cute girl in chemistry class. He said you guys were friends since, like, elementary school."

Your heart skips a beat, but you play it cool. "Awww, you think I’m cute?" you ask, giving him a soft, sweet smile.

Todd’s face deepens in color. "I... I think you’re a table," he blurts out, then immediately hides his face in his hands, as if that could make his awkwardness disappear.

You blink, trying to process his words. "What?" you ask, laughing.

"You know, the periodic table," he stammers, his words tripping over each other. "Like... you're periodic... means you’re cute. Periodic... like... magazines for nerds and cute girls and, uh... forget what I said," he quickly adds, visibly relieved when he sees your bright smile.

You burst out laughing, and though your cheeks are starting to heat up too. You lean in a little closer, still giggling. "I think you're a total nerd—and I love it."

Todd looks at you, blinking in surprise, as if he didn’t expect you to respond that way. "A nerd?" he echoes, his voice low but with a hint of a smile.

"Yeah, a cute nerd," you tease, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. "One who apparently knows everything about chemistry."

He laughs, a soft, nervous chuckle that makes your heart flutter. "I just—uh—like to help. It’s kinda my thing. I helped Dave once and, I guess, it just stuck."

You raise an eyebrow, your head tilted playfully. "How about you help me? I really need to improve my grades," you say, teasing but with a mischievous smile.

“You serious?” Todd echoes, shifting on his feet as he tries to process what you’re asking.

“Totally." You say, your voice smooth like velvet, approaching him slowly and brushing your fingers over the lace of his hoodie. "I think you're the only one who can help me."

“Really?” he repeats, his eyes widening as he backs up toward the lockers, trying to distance himself while you come closer to tie his hoodie lace into a neat bow.

“Really.” You give him a reassuring smile, letting your hands slide down the sides of your body. "What about 4pm at my place? Is that okay?"

“Today?” He blinks, eyes widening like you’ve just dropped a bomb. “I’m free! I’ll help you. Don’t worry. Anytime you want.”

“I'm actually going shopping today...” You bite your lip, glancing him up and down with a teasing smile.

"Shopping? Oh, sure!" Todd chuckles nervously, face-palming himself. "Go have fun."

“Sure? But I want you, Toddy,” You pout dramatically, but can't help but giggle when you see him lean back against the wall, clearly trying to keep his cool.

“You want me?” He swallows hard, blinking rapidly like he’s trying to make sense of what you just said.

"Yes… I’ll wait for you, okay?" you confirm with a wink, before turning to walk down the hallway, blowing him a kiss. Thank God he didn’t see the goofy grin you’re sporting.

"Okay…" Todd breathes, leaning his head back against the wall, utterly dazed as he tries to process everything that just happened.

Todd went home and took the longest shower of his life, mentally preparing for the most important study session he’d ever had. He was certain he was going to need all the courage he could muster to survive the next few hours with you.

The doorbell rings, and you open the door to Todd, who freezes when he sees you in a t-shirt and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. "Hey, Toddy. Come on in."

You step aside to let him in, and he follows you up the stairs to your room, trying not to look at you as he climbs.

Once inside, you sit on the bed and open your notebooks. He follows you, sitting on the edge, with all his books spread out in front of him. "You're too far, sit closer," you ask.

Todd slowly scoots closer, his fingers brushing against yours as he settles down next to you on the bed. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You both glance at the open textbooks in front of you, but the words blur together. It’s almost impossible to focus with him so close.

You can feel the warmth of his body next to yours, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the soft smell of your room. Every time you catch his eye, he looks away quickly, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Uh, so, um..." Todd stammers, trying to sound serious. "Do you, uh, want to start with the chemical reactions or the organic compounds?" His voice is a little too high-pitched, and you can't help but grin.

“Anywhere you want," you tease, your lips curling into a smile. You turn slightly toward him, your knee lightly brushing against his.

He looks at you, his eyes wide, as if surprised by the touch. "I—I didn’t even realize we were that close, sorry," he says, his voice barely a whisper.

You shrug, feigning nonchalance but secretly feeling your heart race. "Guess we’re just... naturally close," you tease, your hand lightly resting on the open notebook, but not really paying attention to the words. His fingers hover near yours, but he doesn't dare to move.

Todd's breath catches when you look at him, your face so close now that you can feel his breath. He murmurs, his voice soft, "I think we should—"

Before he can finish, you lean in just a little closer, your lips barely brushing his as you whisper, "We should what?”

He freezes, his body tense. "I… I don’t know. I was just thinking..." His words trail off as your faces inch closer, the air between you thick with the unspoken desire to kiss.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, just staring at each other, the world outside the room fading away. “Thinking…?” Your heart beats louder than ever, and you can almost hear his racing too.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, you close the tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his softly. You pull away just a little, still close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. His eyes stay closed for a beat longer, like he’s savoring the moment.

"That..." Todd starts, his voice cracking slightly, "... that was... um... wow.”

“Kissing a teacher is kinda sexy.” You tease, biting your lip as you glance at him doing the same with his.

“Yeah, uhm… I think you're right.” He bubbled, not taking his eyes away from your glossy lips, unaware he was as glossy as yours.

“So… will you kiss me more or will you teach your periodic more chemistry?” You provoke, getting in all fours with your face in mere inches of his.

“God…” he breathes, eyeing your breasts under your shirt in the new position. “i…kiss. I wanna kiss you more. Can I?”

“Just kissing?” You tease even more, playing with his limits, just to see where it could get. “Or… do you wanna something more?”

“Fuck.” He curses, digging his fingers on the mattress to stay sure the moment is real and not part of his loser imagination.

You chuckle, pecking kisses on his face to his ear to simply whisper his name in pure sultry tone. “You wanna fuck?”

“No… I mean…yes, no…” He stammered, swallowing when you licked his Adams apple.

“Say what you want, Toddy.” You inquired, facing him.

“Please, don't call me like that…” he whimpers, touching your hand.

“Why?” You questioned, biting his earlobe as you jumped on his lap, straddling. He check his lap to catch if you're really pressing your pelvis on his forming bulge and you're fucking really good at it. “Oh, you're already that hard, Toddy bear?”

“Fuck, I'm sorry.” He shots before kissing your lips as a starving man, his grip firm on your hip as he drives his hands under your shirt to dig his fingers on the soft skin of your waist, gaining a mewl from you.

You wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your hands in his soft curls as you wiggle your hips in the jeans squeezing his hard cock. You push him onto the bed and he settles, laying his head on the pillow to watch you remove your shirt, revealing your hard nipples.

“No bra…” he hisses, anxiously waiting for you to remove your shorts without getting off the top of him. He grips your thigh, feeling how wet you are even through his thick jeans. “This can’t be real. It can’t… I’m a loser and you’re hot. No.”

“You’re hot, Todd.” You praise, lying on top of him to kiss him again. “Can’t you see how wet I am f’you?”

“You… you’re the hot one. Shit, you’re so fucking delicious.” He grunts as you grind on his member, keeping your hands on the bed. “m gonna cum if you move like that…”

“You can touch me, you know?” You whispered between the kiss, taking the boy's hand to your breasts, where he gave them a gentle squeeze, increasing the force a little when you bit his bottom lip.

"Perfect tits." He chuckles, squeezing them a little more as he kisses you.

"You can touch me here too, Toddy." You take his hands to your ass and he gives them a firm squeeze, also directing his hands to your core. "You can touch me wherever you want, baby.”

"Fuck, don't do that to me." He meows, letting himself be carried away by your permission and turning you over on the bed, holding you by the wrists. "I can't take it anymore."

You smile in surprise, resting your knee on his evident erection, feeling him tremble above you. "Do you wanna make me feel good, Toddy?"

"Yes, please." He grunts, shaking his head frantically. "I want it so bad."

“C’mere…” you breathe, opening your legs for the boy who promptly throws his shirt in some forgotten corner of the room and undoes his belt clumsily, as if he had forgotten how to do this basic function.

“Damn belt!” He mutters, making you laugh and help him with the belt, pulling down his pants and red boxers in one go.

“Uhm… you’re so big, Toddy.” You purr, wrapping your fingers around the boy’s hard, wet cock, giving a few pumps that made him melt in your hand with whimpers.

“That’s so g-good… you’re so good…” he whimpers, kissing you. He mutually puts his hand inside your panties, carefully circling your clit.

You grind against his finger, feeling an immense wave of pleasure just from this simple touch. The chemistry between you is immeasurable like the explosion you saw in class.

“I need you.” He asks through tears, and you can tell that you've never seen anything more pornographic than Todd Haynes desperate for relieve, removing his hand to remove your thin fabric.

He swallows hard, grabbing his cock to carefully direct the tip to your entrance. He pushes, feeling your walls stretch with his thick size, which makes you arch your back, in a unisson moan with him.

"So…tight." Todd murmurs, completely inside you without resistance by your completely soaked pussy. “you're so wet f’me.”

He begins the slow thrusts, memorizing every part of your pussy. Todd didn't want to cum, he wanted to live there forever, just like you wanted him all the time. Damn, he had no right to be so delicious, as well as to find your pleasure point so quickly.

"There, right there...God, this is so good, Toddy.” you moan, grabbing his hips with your legs, your breasts swaying as his thrusts increased.

“You're beautiful, you're so…fuck…perfect. I love you so much, so fucking much, m sorry, taking me so well” he babbled, giving sloppy fast thrusts, the skin slapping sounds echoing in the room. “this fucking tight pussy.”

“m gonna cum, m gonna cum.” you whine, shutting your eyes hard as you come undone in a loud moan, muffled by his kiss.

“Cum, please. Melt in my cock, oh fuck, please, cum in me. M gonna cum too.” He groans, digging on a deep thrust with his balls deep as his thick seed fills your womb with pleasure, your eyes on the back of your head. “m sorry f’ cumming inside.”

“that's okay, i'm on pills.” You comfort, ruffling his hair as he rests his head on the crook of your neck, giving a few pumps inside you til his dick softened inside.

“Can I stay here a little longer?” He asks with his puppy sparkling eyes at you. “It feels so good.”

“Okay. Let’s lie on our sides like this.” You suggest and you both comfort your bodies on the mattress, your hand reaching for the sheet under the pillow to cover you both.

“I think I have PE,” he jokes, making you laugh loudly. Todd smiles at the sound, his eyes lighting up as his hand gently runs through your messy hair, as if you were a masterpiece he couldn't take his eyes off.

“If that’s the case, I think I have it too,” you respond, pausing to meet his intense gaze. His eyes seem to melt into you, and in that moment, your heart feels as if it's slowly breaking into a thousand pieces, like a chocolate popsicle left out on a hot summer day. “When you said you loved me…”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry about that,” he interrupts, suddenly pulling away, but you reach out, pulling him back toward you. You kiss him slowly, savoring the warmth of the moment.

“Don’t apologize,” you whisper softly, your thumb gently tracing his cheek, trying to comfort him. “I like you. You don’t need to apologize for your feelings.”

“I already came too fast and now I’m telling you that I love you. I’m a total loser.” He laughs sadly, caressing your waist and back with his strong hands.

“You may be a loser, but you’re my loser.” You joke, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Damn, you’re so cute…” he mumbles, pulling you into a tighter embrace and leaning in to kiss you again, his lips lingering as he holds you closer.

Just as the kiss deepens, your phone rings, abruptly breaking the intimate moment. “Fuck, who’s calling at this hour?” you explode, reluctantly pulling away and reaching for your phone.

“Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you at the mall! Hailey’s dad already blocked her card,” Ally says in a rush, her voice tinged with panic, and you hear Hailey’s whiny voice in the background.

“Damn, the mall.” Todd exclaims, his face falling in realization. He immediately clamps his mouth shut, realizing he spoke too loudly, and looks at you apologetically.

“Ooh, who’s that?” your friend teases from the other end of the line. “Is it that cute guy from chemistry?”

“Shh!” you hiss, laughing softly. “He doesn’t need to know I have a massive crush on him.”

“Sorry, honey. You two go ahead and enjoy your date. There's still time for round two, you nasty kitten.”

“Go to hell, Alison,” you laugh, ending the call. You place the phone on the nightstand, sinking back into the soft, warm sheets, hoping to get back to the moment.

“Massive crush?” Todd repeats, his voice light and amused, a playful grin tugging at his lips.

“Don’t get cocky, Todd,” you tease, your eyes narrowing in mock warning. But your heart betrays you as you can’t help but smile. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’re such a sweetheart, my Toddy bear.”

“Of course, I’m gonna get cocky,” he responds with a confident laugh. “I’ve got a popular girlfriend now. I’m a loser, after all—this is basically the ultimate cliché.”

“Yeah, I think I can tolerate that,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully as you remember the nickname. “You’re periodic.”

“You’re the most periodic of them all,” he retorts, his smile growing wider. He pulls you even closer, his hands resting lightly on your waist. “The most explosive element on my periodic table. I think I should isolate you—you're just too dangerous.”

“That was ridiculously cheesy,” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes before leaning in to kiss him softly. “But I think you can keep that element to yourself, since you’re my boyfriend now.”

“Damn, that was fast.” He laughs, tightening his arms around you as if trying to keep you close, a sense of warmth and happiness flooding over him. “Thanks, periodic girlfriend.”

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[empressdede]

Never Ending - 2

This was originally supposed to be a two shot, but then I kept writing so…😭 maybe a four part mini series 🤣🫶🏾

Previous

Ciera was halfway through taking her notes in Chemistry when the words group project came out of Mr. Langston’s mouth. She didn’t flinch, didn’t groan like the rest of the class. She simply clicked her pen, already bracing for whatever random partner fate would assign her.

She wasn’t prepared for him.

“Jonathan Fatu and Ciera Monroe,” Mr. Langston read off.

Her head snapped up.

Jon looked back over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowing like he was trying not to grin. “Hey, partner.”

Ciera blinked slowly. “I’m switching seats.”

“Nope,” Mr. Langston said without looking up. “No trades. Sit next to your partner, Fatu.”

Jon slung his backpack over one shoulder and strolled over like he owned the world. His hair had gotten longer since middle school, always tied back in a loose bun, and he wore that same cocky smirk like it was stitched into his DNA.

He flopped down beside her. “Miss me?”

“Like I miss extra homework.”

He chuckled. “Still quick with the comebacks.”

Ciera angled her body away just slightly. “Still allergic to taking anything seriously?”

“Only things that don’t involve you.”

She shot him a look. “Do you even know what the project is?”

“Something about acids and bases,” he said, waving vaguely toward the board. “I figured you’d do the smart stuff and I’d carry the supplies.”

“That’s not how this is gonna work.”

He leaned closer, voice dipping into that teasing tone that always made her ears heat. “You sure? ’Cause I remember you used to love bossing me around.”

Ciera stiffened.

It had been almost two years since they’d really talked. Since that slow dance in eighth grade, interrupted too soon. Since Sadé pulled her away, and Jon just grinned like he didn’t care. And then high school happened. Jon joined the football team, got louder, funnier, became everybody’s favorite. Ciera drifted into AP classes, study groups, a quiet lane of her own making.

They’d passed each other in halls—shared a few classes. The teasing never stopped. But the closeness? That had faded.

Until now.

“You gonna write anything down?” she asked, opening her notebook.

He pulled out a pencil from behind his ear. “Depends. You gonna yell at me if I mess it up?”

“Depends. You planning to try?”

He grinned. “There she is.”

They started working—sort of. Ciera outlined the hypothesis, while Jon fiddled with the pH strips like they were toy swords.

“Jon,” she warned, “you’re gonna contaminate the samples.”

“Relax, Doc Monroe. I know what I’m doing.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

“Since always. I just let you think you were the brains.”

She smirked. “You let me?”

“Mmhmm.”

She shook her head and focused on the worksheet. For a moment, the silence settled—but not comfortably. Not yet.

Then Jon said, casually, “Remember that science fair in sixth grade?”

Ciera blinked. “The one where you tried to make a volcano and it exploded on the principal?”

He laughed, head thrown back. “Hey, I maintain that was a successful reaction.”

“You nearly blinded Ms. Carter.”

“She shouldn’t have been that close.”

“You put vinegar in the wrong chamber.”

“You still remember all that?” he asked, tone softer.

Ciera looked at him. “I remember a lot of things.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “Yeah… me too.”

The words lingered, heavier than she expected.

She cleared her throat, going back to the paper. “So we need three acids and three bases to test with litmus. You wanna grab the materials?”

“You asking me to do actual work?”

“I’m asking you to do your share.”

Jon stood, mock saluting. “Yes, ma’am.”

As he walked away, Ciera let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. He hadn’t changed much—not really. Still charming, still annoying. Still able to make her smile when she didn’t want to.

He returned with the samples, sliding back into his seat like he hadn’t just made her heart beat too fast.

“All right, scientist,” he said. “Let’s make some color magic.”

Ciera dipped the first strip. “You ever think about that dance?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Eighth grade. Middle school dance. You asked me to come.”

Jon leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “You came.”

“You asked.”

“Barely.”

“You asked,” she said again, watching his face carefully.

He grinned. “Okay, maybe I did. But you were the one staring at me the whole night.”

“Was not.”

“Were too.”

“You’re delusional.”

“You were about to kiss me.”

“You leaned in first!”

“I was being polite!”

“Oh my God, polite?” she laughed.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Didn’t want to catch a slap if I misread.”

Ciera smiled despite herself. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Jon sat forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Real talk… you think we would’ve worked?”

Ciera blinked. The question came out of nowhere. “Back then?”

He nodded.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “We were kids.”

He shrugged. “Yeah… but we had something. Didn’t we?”

Her eyes searched his face. “Maybe. Maybe we still do.”

Jon leaned a little closer. “You saying you still like me, Monroe?”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks burned. “I’m saying… I remember what it felt like when we danced.”

His grin softened. “I remember too.”

They sat in the stillness of that moment, the rest of the classroom fading into background noise.

Then she spoke again, quieter this time. “What happened to us?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Life. You went one way. I went another.”

“You got popular.”

“You got serious.”

“We drifted,” she said.

“But we didn’t forget.”

Their eyes met again—this time, with something older and deeper between them.

Then, of course, Jon broke the tension.

“So you gonna admit you liked me first or what?”

Ciera scoffed. “Me? Please. You were obsessed with me in seventh grade.”

“Says the girl who used to write my name in her notebook.”

She gasped. “Lies!”

“I saw it. Big heart around it and everything.”

“Jon!”

He laughed, full and unbothered. “You really used to blush every time I sat near you.”

“And you used to throw spitballs at me in homeroom.”

“Because I liked you!”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face.

Jon reached out and gently tugged her hand away. “I still like you, you know.”

She froze.

He said it so easily, so confidently. No joke behind it. Just words, plain and simple.

“I don’t know if you still like me,” he added, “but if you do… I’d want to find out what that looks like. For real.”

Ciera stared at him, heart pounding.

This wasn’t middle school anymore. They weren’t dancing in a decorated gym with streamers and slow songs. They were older, messier, still figuring it out.

But maybe, just maybe, they still had that spark.

“You’re not just saying that because you don’t wanna fail Chemistry, right?” she teased, voice trembling slightly.

He laughed, shaking his head. “I mean… that’s a bonus.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away when his fingers brushed hers again.

“Wanna finish this project first,” she said, “before we plan our wedding?”

Jon grinned. “So that’s a yes?”

She didn’t answer—not directly. Just dipped the next strip in the solution and smiled when it turned a bright blue.

“Looks like a strong base,” she said.

Jon looked at her, amused. “Like your flirting game?”

“Like your chances if you keep running your mouth.”

He leaned back, satisfied. “God, I missed this.”

Ciera finally looked at him, soft and open. “Yeah. Me too.”

⸻⸻

The final bell echoed through the school like a sigh of relief.

Ciera was one of the few students who didn’t rush the hallways like a prison break. Instead, she moved with quiet precision, slipping down the corridor past the main exit, toward her locker. Her backpack was heavier than usual—Mr. Langston’s chemistry project meant hauling a textbook the size of a microwave, and there was no way she was lugging that home.

She rounded the corner and reached her locker, the metal cool beneath her fingertips. Twisting the combination, she popped it open and began sorting through her books.

A small part of her—okay, maybe a medium part—kept replaying the project period with Jon.

The way he looked at her. How his voice had gone soft when he said, “I still like you.”

She hadn’t expected that. Not from Jonathan Fatu—the boy who used to dunk paper balls in her hair and laugh when she got detention for talking back. The boy who danced with her in eighth grade and almost kissed her under the glow of cafeteria fairy lights.

Now here he was again. Same mischief in his eyes, but older. Bolder. And, apparently, still interested.

She shook her head. Don’t read into it. He’s always joking.

Just as she placed her Chemistry book on the top shelf, a voice slid into her ear like silk.

“So… did you miss me already?”

She flinched, spinning around. Jon leaned against the neighboring locker like a scene out of some teenage rom-com—arms folded, hair pulled back, grin in place.

“Do you practice being this annoying or does it just come naturally?” she asked, hand over her chest.

“I’ve been gifted since birth.”

Ciera rolled her eyes, stuffing a notebook into the locker. “What do you want, Jon?”

He raised his eyebrows, playful. “Straight to the point. I like that.”

“Because I have a life outside of entertaining you.”

“Ouch.” He clutched his heart. “That one actually hurt.”

She gave him a smirk and shut her locker. “Then I’m doing it right.”

But Jon didn’t flinch. Didn’t take the bait and leave like he usually did after a round of back-and-forth.

Instead, he stayed.

Leaned in just a bit.

“Actually,” he said, his voice a little quieter, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Ciera tilted her head. “Oh?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was thinking about what I said earlier… maybe it’s time I finally take you out.”

She blinked.

“On a real date,” he added. “Like dinner or something. Not just projects and playful insults.”

For a second, she didn’t say anything. Her fingers curled around her bag strap, mind racing. Part of her had waited for this. The other part? Terrified to ruin the rhythm they had—this teasing, electric pull that always hovered between friendship and something more.

“Wow,” she said slowly. “You’re actually asking me out?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Ciera raised an eyebrow. “No jokes? No double-dare from your friends? You sure this isn’t some kind of bet?”

He chuckled. “You think I need a dare to ask you out?”

“Considering the last time you tried, we were thirteen and you ran off before Sadé could roast you—yes.”

Jon laughed, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m serious this time.”

Ciera leaned back against the row of lockers, arms crossing loosely. “That’s new.”

“I figured if I kept waiting, someone else might get to you first.”

“Now that’s more like you—territorial and late.”

“But honest,” he said, stepping closer.

She looked up at him, the teasing slowly slipping from her features, replaced with something gentler. “I’ll think about it.”

Jon blinked. “You’ll think about it?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Monroe.”

“Good. Builds character.”

He exhaled, leaning in until they were barely a foot apart. “Okay, fine. I’ll make you a deal.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh God.”

“Relax,” he laughed. “Just this: I’ll call you tonight. You answer me then.”

Ciera tilted her head. “Call me?”

“You do still have a phone, right? Or did you evolve into one of those people who only communicates through passive-aggressive glances?”

“You’re one to talk,” she muttered.

“So is that a yes?” he asked, smiling. “You’ll pick up?”

She paused, lips tugging upward. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Depends on how annoying your voicemail is.”

He laughed again, louder this time. “So that’s a yes. You’ll answer.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder. “Don’t get cocky, Fatu.”

Jon stood straighter, brushing imaginary dust off his hoodie. “Too late. I’ve already planned our wedding.”

Ciera rolled her eyes so hard it might’ve given her a headache. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like me anyway.”

She started to walk off, throwing over her shoulder, “I’ll deny it in court.”

He called after her, “I’ll have witnesses!”

And just like that, they slipped back into their rhythm. But underneath it—woven between every joke and jab—was something undeniable.

A pull.

She was halfway down the hall, smiling despite herself, when a familiar voice called out.

“Ciera!”

She turned to see Sadé jogging toward her, her braids bouncing as she waved. “Girl, wait up!”

Ciera slowed her pace as her best friend caught up, slightly out of breath.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Sadé said. “What took you so long?”

“Locker run,” Ciera replied. “Had to ditch Langston’s chemistry brick.”

Sadé wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. That man needs to stop assigning group projects like we don’t already have lives.”

Ciera smirked. “Mine got interesting.”

Sadé side-eyed her. “Why do you sound smug?”

“No reason.”

“Don’t lie to me, Monroe. Spill.”

Ciera glanced behind her—Jon was still by the lockers, pretending not to watch, but failing miserably.

Sadé followed her gaze, and her mouth dropped open.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“He finally asked?”

“Mmhmm.”

“And??”

“I told him I’d think about it.”

Sadé gasped, grabbing Ciera’s arm. “Girl, what?! You’ve had a thing for him since like—forever!”

“Yeah, well, forever is complicated.”

“Not if he’s asking you out.”

Ciera smiled, a little breathless herself. “He said he’s gonna call me tonight.”

Sadé squealed, practically vibrating. “You better answer that phone.”

“I might.”

“No. No ‘might.’ You will.”

Ciera laughed. “We’ll see.”

They walked side by side, Sadé still talking a mile a minute, but Ciera’s mind drifted again. Back to Jon’s voice, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the hallway. Like maybe—just maybe—this thing between them was real. Always had been.

She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But tonight?

Tonight, she’d answer.

The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the AC and the soft buzz of crickets outside the window.

Ciera stood in the middle of her room, arms folded, glaring at the phone on her nightstand like it had personally offended her.

It was 7:57 p.m.

Three minutes until the imaginary deadline she’d given Jonathan to call.

You don’t care, she told herself, marching over to her desk. She picked up her chemistry notebook, flipped to a random page, and tried to focus. Something about ions. Something about valence electrons. Something that wasn’t Jon’s voice in her head saying, I want to take you out.

She bit her lip and underlined the same sentence twice without realizing it.

At 8:01, her phone vibrated.

She jumped.

Unknown Number.

She stared at it for a half second too long.

“Girl, answer the damn phone,” she muttered, snatching it up.

“Hello?”

There was a pause—only a breath—before that familiar voice slipped through.

“Hey.”

Ciera swallowed, hoping her voice didn’t crack. “Hey.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why’d you hesitate?”

“I was busy.”

Jon laughed. “Doing what? Watching the phone from across the room?”

She could hear the grin in his voice, and somehow that made her entire chest flutter.

“Please. I forgot you were even supposed to call.”

“Oh, so now I’m forgettable?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“I imply a lot of things,” she replied coolly, walking to sit on the edge of her bed. “Doesn’t mean I mean them.”

Jon whistled low. “Damn. Still sharp, huh?”

“Did you call just to get roasted or was there a point?”

“Can’t I miss you a little first?”

Ciera’s heart thumped a little too hard.

She cleared her throat. “Miss me? You saw me like five hours ago.”

“Yeah, but that’s like thirty in Jonathan Fatu hours.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “You’re so corny.”

“And yet… here you are. Still on the line.”

“I was raised to be polite.”

“I’ll make a note. Politeness is the new flirting.”

Ciera smiled down at her lap. “Is that what this is? You flirting?”

Jon paused for just a second. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just what I’ve always done with you.”

Something in his voice shifted—less playful, more honest. Ciera’s teasing tone faded too.

“You always did have a way of getting on my nerves,” she murmured.

“And under your skin.”

She exhaled through her nose, the air in her room suddenly warmer. “Is this why you called?”

“No,” he said. “I called because I meant what I said earlier.”

Ciera lay back on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “About wanting to take me out?”

“Yeah.”

She let the silence stretch for a beat. “Why now, Jon?”

He didn’t answer right away.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually. “I guess… I got tired of pretending I didn’t care. Like, we joke around, we talk trash, but you and I both know there’s always been more to it than that.”

Her chest tightened.

“Maybe,” she said softly. “But you never really said anything before.”

“I was stupid.”

“No argument here.”

He chuckled. “Fair. I just… you know how it was after middle school. I got caught up. Football, friends, all the attention. I didn’t know how to be real with someone back then.”

“And you think you do now?”

“I’m trying,” he said. “With you, I wanna try.”

Ciera’s throat felt a little tight. She sat up again, suddenly restless, the ceiling too heavy to stare at.

“I noticed you pulling away,” she admitted. “Like, the more popular you got, the less we talked. But I never said anything. I figured it was just… what happens.”

“Yeah,” Jon murmured. “I noticed it too. I just didn’t know how to fix it.”

“You could’ve started with a text.”

“Scary stuff,” he joked. “But you’re right. I should’ve.”

Ciera hugged one knee to her chest, the phone pressed close to her ear.

“I always wondered if I made that night up, you know?” she said quietly.

“What night?”

“The dance. Eighth grade.”

“Oh, I think about that night all the time.”

Her breath caught.

“You do?”

Jon’s voice dipped, softer now. “Of course. You were the only thing I could think about after. We almost kissed, remember?”

“I remember,” she whispered. “And then Sadé came outta nowhere.”

“I was this close,” he said with a smirk in his voice. “And she just—”

“Ruined everything.”

He laughed. “Exactly.”

Ciera bit her lip. “If she hadn’t interrupted, would you have actually done it?”

“Kissed you?”

“Yeah.”

There was no hesitation this time. “Absolutely.”

Her stomach flipped.

They were quiet for a few seconds, the weight of their unspoken history stretching out between them. Every memory—every laugh, tease, and almost-kiss—suddenly felt brand new.

“So,” Jon said eventually, his voice teasing again, “are you ready to stop pretending you don’t like me?”

Ciera groaned, burying her face in her pillow. “God, you’re annoying.”

“But cute.”

She muffled her laugh. “Debatable.”

“Please. You used to write my name in your notebook.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Sadé told me.”

“She’s dead to me.”

Jon’s laugh filled her ear again. “So… you gonna go out with me or not?”

Ciera exhaled, heart fluttering like a damn hummingbird. “You’re really not gonna drop this, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, debating. She’d spent years watching him from a distance, wondering if he still thought about her. And now, here he was, asking for her time—her attention—like he finally saw what they could’ve been all along.

“Alright,” she said at last. “One date.”

“One?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Can I pick you up Friday?”

She blinked. “You already had a day in mind?”

“Girl, I’ve had this planned since eighth grade.”

Ciera laughed, leaning back again, letting herself sink into the moment.

“Friday’s fine,” she said.

There was a pause on his end—like even he couldn’t believe she said yes.

“I’m holding you to that.”

“You better.”

They talked a while longer, about stupid things—teachers they couldn’t stand, Sadé’s loud laugh, how Joshua always tried to outshine him. But underneath every word was that same electricity, that same easy connection that never really left.

Eventually, her mom knocked and told her to get ready for bed. They said goodnight reluctantly.

“Sleep good,” he said.

“You too, Fatu.”

He hesitated before hanging up. “Hey, Ciera?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you picked up.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

And when she finally lay down to sleep, her phone still warm in her hand, she knew something had changed.

For real this time.

VIP TAGLIST : @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @pr0tost4r @paigereeder @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01 @mzv11 @trippinsorrows @partypoison00 @isabella-2025 @jstarr86 @chrisevanswife0405 @fearlesschimera @cyberdejos2 @whowrotethenote @potatosackk @ajaxcleaningsupplies @sayyestoheav3nn @chasssssworld @christinabae @glittergirl7 @itskii01 @fame-ass-ers @li-da-savage @ashykneee @kianaleani @holisticcoach @pittieprincess22 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @amandairene88 @luvrsluxe @venusesworld @norababora @callmekayd @chrissyxcxox @keyera-jackson @wabi-sabi1090 @psiloveyOu @baybehkay @nybearsworld @transparentphantomface @sassginaswanmills @fafomama @wooahmiri @mackfinstathrowitback @ariiaeltheedonn @bratzzzdoll @m00nlitnight

[lurkinginnernarrator]

Yk what would be interesting?

Shen Yuan as a beast hunter.

Him taking into account SQQ's unstable cultivation, the fact that while he is a suitable actor he's not a perfect one, and promptly deciding on a course of action.

"Zhangmen-shixiong, Qing Jing is the scholarly peak. If we are not hunting down knowledge, and capturing it for the future generations, what kind of scholars would that make us? This master cannot allow such a thing to occur.

So this master will be setting an example for my disciples by going out myself on such an endeavor.

And not only is Qing Jing the peak of scholars, but we are cultivators as well. Is it not our duty to be intercessors between the spiritual and demonic things and the common people?"

Yue Qingyuan can do nothing but agree.

Cut to SY!SQQ hunting down rare and powerful beasts, his hunts taking months, as he stalks the beasts and observes their behaviors; compiling valuable information about countless beasts. He then cleanly kills the beasts, all the valuable parts go to Cang Qiong, usually to Mu Qingfang.

The rare beasts improve SQQ's cultivation base and level by leaps and bounds.

And! He doesn't have to navigate the original goods personal relationships because he's not at CQ! Being a poser is so much easier when you just have to be untouchable immortal.

Whenever SQQ comes back to CQMS it's to drop off a carcass or because he absolutely has to for peak lord business. Otherwise he's always out on some sort of quest.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's skills shoot up by 100²

His steps are silent, when he's not thinking about it he just fades into the background, continually being on hunts where silence is necessary, being less than a whisper becomes muscle memory.

His gaze isn't only scathing anymore, it's also piercing. He observes everything.

His movements are quick, graceful, full of power and yet incredibly calculated. You can't hit a Blood Blossoming Demonic Hummingbird too hard, or it'll crumple, but if you don't hit it hard enough you'll be an exsanguinated husk.

He also takes to wearing a fur mantle: it's from a Heavenly Moon Snake-Leopard, some poachers had been stalking the Snake-Leopard for months, driving it into madness. SQQ dealt with the poachers of course, but the Snake-Leopard was beyond saving. While unfortunate, the fur is so useful! Warm, water repellent, regenerative, acid resistant, and excellent camouflage! The Snake-Leopard also gifted SQQ its fangs for killing the poachers, and they make impressive daggers.

Qing Jing Peak cannot get enough of this cool badass Shizun who puts even the Liu Qingge to shame when it comes to beast hunting! And whenever he comes back to the peak he has lessons on his hunts! He even brings back specimens!!

Mu Qingfang appreciates Shen-Shixiong's newfound hobby immensely. Not to disparage Liu-Shixiong's contributions, but Shen-Shixiong brought him not one, but TWO intact Yellow Butterfly-Lizard carcasses, liver, wings AND tongue intact! The downside Shen-Shixiong hunting so much Liu Qingge has less to do, which unfortunately means more work Qian Cao, patching up Bai Zhan Disciples. And the Sect Leader seems... Depressed? MQF will have his Head Disciple drop off some Blue Lily of Uplifting tea for him.

Liu Qingge is upset at being benched and very confused???

Yue Qingyuan just smiles painfully. "As long as Xia-— as long as Shen-Shidi is happy..."

(LBH is of course enamoured with his powerful and righteous Shizun)

And of course, SY!SQQ's skills do help him out quite a bit, his reaction time improved drastically, meaning no Without-A-Cure. And canon goes just a bit easier. Maybe.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Allergy Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Allergic crease - A crease or pale line that develops across the lower part of the nose because of frequent upward wiping of the nose.

Angioedema - (or edema) Swelling

Dander - Material that is shed from the body of humans and animals that have fur, hair, or feathers.

Dust mite - A small mite invisible to the naked eye. Dust mites are widely distributed in homes and dust mite allergy is a major cause of asthma and allergic rhinitis (hay fever).

Elemental diet - A diet of predigested liquid containing amino acids, vitamins, minerals, electrolytes, and glucose.

Eosinophils - Cells that circulate in the blood. They attack tissues at the site of an allergic reaction causing damage.

Erythema - Reddening of the skin.

Macrophages - Scavengers whose job is to engulf or eat up infecting germs and even infected cells. Macrophages also help to overcome infection by secreting signals that help activate other cell types to fight against infections.

Monocytes - Cells that circulate in the blood and become macrophages in the tissues. These cells are very important in alerting the immune system about an infection.

Neutropenia - A condition that results when the body does not have enough neutrophils, an important white blood cell that fights infections. The lower your neutrophil count, the more vulnerable you are to infectious diseases.

Pollen count - (or a mold count) Is based on the measurement of the number of grains of pollen or mold spores in a cubic meter of the air. The higher the count, the greater the chance that people suffering from hay fever will experience symptoms when they are outdoors or exposed to outdoor air.

Pruritus - Itching

Urticaria - The medical word for hives, which are itchy, raised lumps that can vary in position from hour to hour or day to day.

Wheal - A raised whitish itchy lump, which occurs after skin prick test or after contact with an allergen and is a term also used to describe the individual lump seen in hives.

Wheeze - A whistling sound that can occur in the breathing tubes or airways. It is important to make your doctor aware of wheezing that reoccurs. Wheezing is often a symptom of asthma or COPD, but it may be related to temporary respiratory conditions such as pneumonia or bronchitis.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Word Lists

[wedgiesfromhell]

TOP-CLASSIFIED WEDGIE FILE

CASE #: WD-X993-ALPHA

TITLE: “Total Breakdown: The Ultimate Wedgie Denial Event”

Location: Hotel Room (Standard Double, Evidence of Post-Gym Conditions)

Filed by: Senior Humiliation Forensics Analyst – Hayden Jacob’s

⸻

INCIDENT CLASSIFICATION:

Code Red Atomic Wedgie w/ Multi-Sensory Denial Collapse, Sweat Saturation, and Fecal Transfer Contamination

Severity Rating: 10/10 – Catastrophic Dignity Destruction

⸻

SUBJECT DETAILS:

Victim: Unnamed male, presumed dork status based on posture, resistance level, and wardrobe (loose gym shorts, cotton briefs)

Assailant: Male with blond-tipped dreadlocks, visible smirk, grip strength estimated in upper athlete percentile

Time of Day: Midday (based on ambient light); coincides with peak body sweat production

⸻

CHRONOLOGICAL WEDGIE ANALYSIS:

[00:00–00:04]: Initial Contact

• The victim is seated defenseless on the carpeted floor, possibly post-shower or gym.

• Assailant seizes the rear waistband with both fists.

• Fabric type: Thin, moist cotton briefs – visibly discolored from wear.

[00:05–00:10]: Wedgie Lift Phase

• With a violent upward thrust, the assailant begins lifting the briefs.

• Fabric ascends rapidly into the gluteal canal with a moist slap, fully devouring the cheeks.

• Wedgie Bite Threshold surpassed: Deep wedgie burn sets in as briefs wedge into the taint, compressing the perineum and testicles against bone.

• Victim lets out the first gasp – described as a “high-pitched hiss through clenched teeth.”

⸻

PHYSICAL MARKERS OF EXTREME DENIAL ONSET:

1. Head Motion – “Side-to-Side Syndrome”

• Victim’s head starts shaking violently left and right in disbelief, a known denial reaction.

• Neck muscles spasm in rejection of the waistband nearing the upper spine.

2. Ocular Collapse

• Victim’s eyes cross and begin to water.

• This visual reaction is not only pain-induced, but triggered by the scent of:

• Sweat-soaked fabric (pungent and acidic from hours of butt crack fermentation)

• Visible brown skid streaks smearing across the stretched fabric now inches from his face

3. Facial Warping

• Lips curl up and tremble.

• Nose wrinkles, nostrils flare as the odor hits.

• Chin begins to quiver uncontrollably — classic symptom of the “Brief Breakdown.”

⸻

FABRIC TRAJECTORY REPORT:

• By [00:13], waistband clears shoulder blade level.

• By [00:16], elastic breaches the neckline.

• At [00:18], fabric snaps over the crown of the head, one leg hole now dangling near the temple.

• Underwear is now functioning as both torture device and sweat-drenched hood.

⸻

MULTI-SENSORY OVERLOAD:

Olfactory Impact:

• Smell: Steam-released butt sweat, concentrated in groin fibers and fused with dried fecal particles

• Victim chokes on his own odor—“It smells like my soul’s rotting,” he reportedly moaned

Auditory Response:

• Squealing, gurgled sobs echo in the hotel room

• Wedgie squeaks audible as damp cotton rubs against inflamed skin

Tactile Misery:

• Fabric now acts like sandpaper across the taint

• Leg holes dig into the hips, warping body posture

• Briefs become a suspension device as victim begins to lift slightly off the floor from tension alone

⸻

WEDGIE DENIAL – TOTAL PSYCHOLOGICAL COLLAPSE:

Stage 1: “This isn’t happening” — Internal rejection, whimpers, no eye contact

Stage 2: “I can still fix this” — Futile squirming, fingers gripping air

Stage 3: “This is who I am now” — Tears flow, snot drips, victim surrenders entirely to his new identity: “The guy whose own butt-crusted briefs now function as a headband”

⸻

FINAL HUMILIATION MARKER:

At [00:22], the assailant snaps the waistband under the chin, locking the fabric taut against the jawline. This converts the wedgie into a full compression hood, pressing the sweaty, stained gusset of the underwear against the victim’s mouth. The victim dry-heaves and mutters, “It’s in my teeth…”

⸻

FORENSIC CONCLUSION:

This incident is one of the most complete and devastating wedgie denial breakdowns ever documented. It combined:

• Full atomic lift

• Skid mark-to-nostril exposure

• Sweat marinade saturation

• Olfactory-induced nausea

• Identity fracture and ego annihilation