#bitch ass middle schoolers

[tiredtriedfailures]

vulnerable posting. honest posting. im not gonna drastically change overnight but i think ill start a new color in my journals for my beloved and important loved ones. to keep in mind. to consider. to consider is to be loved. and ill love recklessly fuck. you.

[colored-cloverfeilds]

I really do think that ONE hit the nail on the head when he made reigen. he's a conman. when things aren't going his way his immediate reaction is to beat the other person up and it somehow always works. he violates every working law immaginable. he is so unreasonably lucky for no reason. his best friends are an autistic middle schooler, an evil spirit and an ex-terrorist. he pays his workers pennies and is worried theyll join a union. he lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment. he gets drunk off of no alcohol. hes constantly surrounded by other autistic middle schoolers. he has no real, functioning adult friends. he has a license but hasn't used it in 10 years, and when he did use it, it was to take a bunch of kids to meet aliens. he's written his own biography. God hates him. his family hates him. he hates himself. and yet there's a psychic kid with a bowl cut who looks up to him with nothing but admiration. he throws salt at evil spirits and people if they annoy him. he would protect his students no matter what, and has almost died multiple times to help them. the only thing that makes him happy are dogs. in fact, he had a dog before, and it was eaten. he's canonically sexy and depressed, but also very, very ugly and sweaty. he's tried to shoot and kill a man not because he was super evil and trying to take over the world, but because he was hurting his kid.  he was told he would go to hell and couldn't care less. he met real aliens and all he could think about was how he was gonna pay his bills. he has god awful posture. he smokes cigarettes but never smokes in front of the kids. he wrote his will by age 29. all the animators wanna fuck him. he gets no bitches canonically. he's ONEs favorite character but he always makes him want to kill himself. he was doxxed. he was cancelled on Twitter. he entered a wack a mole competition and won 4th place. children make fun of him. he describes himself with having motherly love. no one likes him. everyone loves him. the anime designer draws him starting from his ass -> waist -> back because "it's like running your tongue over his body". his theme song sounds like a mario kart course track. he's so utterly pathetic.

plus he's just a genuinely good person and he's one of the best characters ONEs ever created??? genius.

[satocidal]

—RING RING!!

Say hello to our Operator Number One, and A Fan-Favourite:

── .˳⁺⁎˚ This caller seems to be into Humiliation and Generalised Behaviour of a Male Thot

── .˳⁺⁎˚ Geto Suguru — Starring in ⌞Valedicktorian⌝

Synopsis: your favourite academic rival, he wants to respect you, he really does—but he just prefers seeing you cry more.

— Word count: 5.4k

— A/n: I know I know, we all love a cocky lil shit that my man is <3 and tagging @romiyaro @blkkizzat @driaswrld becauseeee I can <3333 (+this was supposed to be way longer but haha)+i know it's supposed to be more smut and kinky than story line but :( I apparently cannot do that

— Warnings: Smut!!MDNI!!AFAB! Fem Reader x Suguru; teasing on both parts; dubious methods of going along a lot of things; Suguru is almost like a soft Dom; hints at spitting; Suguru eats reader out through her panties; reader almost gives Suguru a strip tease or smn like that; Suguru is a cocky bitch; emphasis on academic validation somewhat; smut begins late; reader is a virgin; Oral (fem receiving)

~November Beginning~

[8:03 a.m.]

Your eyes scanned the board fast, alone you stood towards the first corner—aware all too well you’d never even fall below

the first row.

Rank Marks Allotted

Y/n L/n [Valedictorian] 97/100

Suguru Geto [Salutatorian] 91/100

You didn’t bother lowering your eyes any further—a huge grin remained etched on your smile as you rocked back and forth about your Position, waiting for him to drop by.

Eyes flitted simply through the screen of your phone—mindless swipes, mindless likes passed on Instagram as you patiently, a whole wait of 7 minutes, you counted—how so very careless.

You beamed as his silhouette came into view, and his best friend’s right beside—lanky, they both stood, you never cared enough.

“You’re late,” you murmured as he shoved past you—an audible grown let out even though he just knew with the way you stood, that he was beat again.

But this time the difference stood of a worthy 6 points—just 6, how easily that he could’ve had you.

Satoru simply cackled beside him—indulging you with the very complicated handshake he and you had designed in the first year of your college.

“You're both stupid,” he, satoru, grinned, “I barely passed and that's so sick,” you simply chuckled at his words—joy emerging more so at Suguru’s annoyance.

“You’ve got the scholarship from your football team Toru’, unfortunately for us—6 marks make a huge difference,”

“6 marks don't matter,” Suguru grumbled, a frown lay upon his lips — “we’re not kids-”

“-except you will cry like a kid when you go back to your dorm because 6 points was what stopped ya from Rank 1,”

A smirk you bore—he wanted to drill it out of you so bad.

“The only crying that goes off in my dorm are the girls I bring about,” he smirk was his this time, your face twisted in disgust.

“And had you spent that time actually studying maybe you'd have gotten somewhere—and is that a confession that you’re that bad a fuck?”

He was tall, but the certain way he towered over most was amusing–not you though, never you.

Equals, in most senses of the word.

“But then,” you continued, and grinned wide—“don't suppose two minutes could've saved you from anything.”

A brow he raised, “you've been learning insults from middle schoolers—and what would your virgin ass even know?”

Jaw clenched you stared, Suguru Geto had realized your insecurity quick back in the first year—exploiting to all ends possible.

“Maybe you should try learning from them, gonna help you with grades and STDs,” a thin smile you wore, a thin smile he did too.

“At the end of the day, we both get the same grade, same gpa and probably the same job offers,” he paused—staring at your face—you took your chance, “And yet you’ll always remember that I was the one that beat you to the first place.”

A wink you passed, a clenched jaw he stilled.

—.—.—

[1:10 p.m.]

The semester was finally over—Satoru’s parties galore.

A tradition almost, celebration of his, scoring marks enough to pass—an ‘ode’ he deemed it, to you and Suguru for tutoring him together.

More so just an attempt to to spew you both together, failing just as always.

“You’re gonna show up tonight doll?” Satoru asked—eyes staring at your face from beneath—head placed in your lap, feet in Suguru’s lap as you both read books that couldn’t have been more neglected when the tension between the two fell so high. .

A hummed you passed, “Will you let me say no?”

A snort Satoru let out, answer all too obvious.

You sighed, “Tonight, sure but I have some projects to catch up and-”

“-perfect,” Satoru interrupted, all to your annoyance, “hm?”

“Suguru has some remaining too, right?”

Interested piqued slow and with a topic that deepened his natural frown, he—Suguru stared at you.

“I’m in mood for help from her,”

Eyes narrowed, you scowled, “yes well I’m not offering any either ways,”

“Not like you could,”

“Says the- ah!”

A sharp yelp you couldn’t help when Satoru pinched your side in midst of your banter—Something in Suguru found the noise adorable—he hated this little something, “excuse you?”

“You wouldn’t shut up otherwise, right?” A bashful smile he held, and so it happened you just couldn’t hold him guilty, an eye roll and you paused.

“Whatever, I’ll show up tonight but don’t hold me up for the rest of the week ok?”

“As you wish, doll,” a sharp edge Satoru held to his words, invoking a sense of alert in both you and Suguru—neither daring to consult the other.

-

[7:55 p.m.]

“And who exactly are we wearing this piece for huh?” Shoko’s eyes fell on you hard—“Who’s got you that hooked?”

A roll of your eyes, “Just wanted to feel cute is all,” you muttered under your breath—and that was mostly true.

It’s wasn’t such that you’d found someone, nor were you dressing to impress, but then, it was out of spite in some sense.

His words rang in your head- in wasn’t an insult really, being a virgin was fine, it was ok, but you hated even the littlest ‘advantage,’ that he could hold on you.

And so you trudged it on, the little black skirt that Satoru gifted you, so small you’d initially kept it only as a joke—and oh how the turn tables.

The top wouldn’t stand any better at all, almost sheer it lay—a floral print to keep what little of your modesty you wanted to show.

Pathetic and desperate, you called yourself, for turning about so easily—pathetically desperate however, you wanted Suguru to be.

-

[8:15 p.m.]

A step into his mansion, a wolf whistle greeted you.

“Shut up Satoru,” you mumbled, a shy smile playing on your lips—almost guilty, “I know it’s not for me, so who’re you dressed to impress?”

A heat caught up slow on your face at Satoru’s words.

Your eyes landed on Suguru who came sauntering just beside him—jaw clenched at just the sight of him, the perfect way his jean jacket clung to him, “And why couldn’t I dress up for you?”

Satoru’s smirk only grew, all too aware of the hostility and the sexual tension that Suguru and you’d fostered—his biggest mystery lying in the way that it was third year of your college degree and you still hadn’t fucked the lights of each other.

A wink, charismatic, most would say, “because you know I prefer you without anything on princess,”

Had you not known Satoru you’d have probably been disgusted, but wonderous what two years of being together did to a person and their adaptations—and you wondered just why you hadn’t adapted to his black haired best friend.

A soft punch on his arm, you shook your head with a smile, “Really though, you look gorgeous—right Suguru?”

Your eyes moved slow, hesitant almost to meet his, “Yeah sure,” he shrugged casually, and just a little your heart hurt too.

Pathetic.

“You don’t look half bad,” you spoke still, adamant to be the bigger person—adamant to have something going.

He eyed you for a second, then another—a scoff, “what’s up with that top? Fix it please- you look like a slut,”

Silence, the music blaring almost stunned out.

Your face burned, heart all the more—a baffled “what?” Escaped your lips—and possibly Satoru’s, you weren’t sure

You weren’t sure if anything there on..

A roll of his eyes caught you off guard further, heart beat racing despite you when he leaned a little towards you, “if you’re going to try dressing like a prostitute, carry it with confidence—do you have any idea how many guys have been staring? Your boobs are practically falling from in there,”

You hated it, hated his words, his demeanor, his proximity—the way you almost found it endearing that he looked away when you tried your best to fix it, the way he almost ‘shielded’ you from anyone looking at you weird.

You hated it all.

“I don’t need you to ‘watch out’ for me,” you spat—Satoru lay forgotten in the moment, maybe he’d slipped moments ago—had he been there at all?

“Not looking out for you doll, just sayin it doesn’t suit ya,” you wanted to thank the dimmed down lighting, your tears were at the brink of falling, you wanted to punch him.

“What would you know what suits me and what doesn’t,” shaky a voice, drowned by the loud music—a smirk Suguru adorned, “think your rival would pay enough attention on you to know what suits you and what doesn’t,” his grinned only ever widened as he stepped back to stand beside you, “but sure, you do look fuckable,”

Jaw clenched, your eyes stared at each other, “whatever,” a shrug you passed, retired.

“Wait,” and wait you did, persistently at his words, “I’m assuming you don’t know most people here, given you’re the pretty nerd-”

“-do you have anything of material to say or should I go?”

The annoyance lay naked, so did the hurt in your voice.

Suguru was perceptive, perfect in the way his eyes trailed down your body, “I’m just saying, tag along with me—don’t want no accidents happening to my nerd,”

“You’re a nerd too,” a scoff, yours, “that’s what you caught from the whole statement?” A chuckle, his.

You bit the inside of your cheek hard, a mindless nod as you let him hold your hand, unsure of it entirely but never more certain that it was the right thing.

His nerd.

-

[8:45 p.m.]

“You drink?” A shake of your head and a sigh, his, “Really are a goody two shoes huh?”

A scoff you passed at his words, “Nothing goody two shoes about it, just that I don’t like the taste and-”

A snort interrupted you, “Pardon, the taste? Alright then, let me order my doll a strawberry milkshake,”

Your scrunched face only ever helped his face concort with laughter further, “I’m not your doll, or nerd or nothing. Don’t call me yours.” yours Words all too defiant, he smirked.

“Eh?” A pause, heavy, “Don't remember hearing objection for when you’re with Satoru,”

You bit the inside of your cheek-how exactly could he make everything so tough?

“Satoru’s a friend,”

“I'm not?”

You grinned, the lighting lay dim—his smile a blur, as was yours — “You're nothing more than competition,”

A grin, his too, “Ouch—after we spend so much time?”

“What, you enjoy it? You're masochistic too huh?”

“If you're the one who's gonna be torturing me doll,” a wink he offered, you bit the inside of your cheek, as insufferable as always.

However before a retort would fall, before your grin would broaden, before his smirks would lighten—“Here’s your milk shake ma’am!”

An internal groan and a condescending little, “be a good girl and finish it all up for me doll,”

A groan- which bartender even agreed to make milkshakes? At parties? At night?

Your eyes scanned the tag he kept attached, Toji F.

-

[11:44 p.m.]

“Suguru,” your words were frenzied, grip tightening on his arm—eyes moving over the surrounding crowd, “I don’t wanna play,”

Drunk.

The usual it was, late the party started and ended up almost at the next morning, you could hear Satoru Hollering down in the background, eyes narrowed down onto the group of your peers that sat in a circle.

Truth and Dare, the tradition.

Everyone you laid eyes upon, drunk, you were sure Suguru himself stood slightly tipsy, saved for your sake entirely, “Cmon,” his words a drag, “It’s just truth and dare, what’s the worst that can happen?”

And you knew well, that was exactly how all the bad teenage movies began.

“Everything, please, let me go if you wanna continue, that’s alright-”

“-no, can’t let you go,” you smiled slightly at the little pout on his face, adorable he surely was when drunk.

“Yes you can, I can walk back from here you know-”

Sudden, all too sudden he pushed you slight, pinned to the wall.

Words interrupted by his weight shifting onto you, your eyes widened at the closeness- “Won’t let you go alone, too many creeps,” a sincere nod was all you could pass, mouth dry and heart racing—he smirked.

“You like this?”

A shake of your head—another pout from him.

“You lie too much,” he murmured against your form, a hand placed softly on your waist—never moving an inch—“you would do well with a round of truth and dare actually,”

You giggled at his words, heart racing fast still as his hot breath fanned over you, “What if I just choose dare?”

Closer, somehow, he only seemed to move closer.

“You’re too chicken to do that,”

“But what if?”

“Do you?”

“Maybe”

“Ok,” he paused—stepping back, “here’s child’s play for you,” the smile he held now was concerning in ways—you didn’t mind it, “I dare you that if I manage to score better than you in the next semester, you have yo do everything I say for a good one day,”

You couldn’t help the laugh you let out at that.

“You have a thing for losing huh?”

A scoff, an eye roll—why was everything from him gorgeous?

“It’s a dare babe, take it or leave it,”

“Sure thing Suguru,”

“Atta girl,”

—.—.—

The tension was held high, the second semester was to end soon—you weren't all so tensed for that, however something did bother you.

Suguru Geto, for the first time that your eyes had seen, was studying.

Day in and day out, the library was where most people would find you—not Suguru Geto, certified fucker of the batch.

“Pass me the book when you’re done please,” your eyes narrowed at the tone, so damn sweet , “please,” uttered so carefully, you wanted to punch him for no reason.

“Of course,” you smiled back politely, wanting to be anything but so.

your eyes flickered over to Satoru—grinning as he texted the girl he met at the party.

“Why don’t you teach Satoru a lil something too though? He could use your help,” it was a constant, you and your little comments, hell bent on distracting Suguru, hell bent on getting more study time than him—hell bent on winning that particular bet.

He’d been drunk, you were hoping he’d have forgotten—hopes always lay crushed, for in the certain way he grinned when he looked at you, it meant something, surely a promise of winning from him.

Suguru Hummed as he always did—hostility between the two of you hadn’t ebbed exactly but it was bearable—he made it bearable, simply readjustments.

Ever since the party, you weren’t sure if you liked the change or no.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the lies Satoru fed you about him wanting you — or the half truths Your heart screamed, of Suguru wanting to screw you.

However, not being rivals never equated to being friends—obvious in the way not even his begging had softened your heart to lend him your notes.

“Why don’t you? Seem pretty done with the outline of it,”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pertaining a gaze on you softly, he grinned, “Too busy to let a friend fail?”

A defiant ‘yes’ you muttered, eyes stuck on Suguru- adding a little, “we’re not friends,” but pausing as the long fingers moved, long fingers reaching out to give you a note—“what’s that?”

He grinned as he shrugged, but before you could open the little piece of paper, folded all so carefully, “ah ah ah,” he chuckled, “open it outside,”

And you did—walking away with a huf—decided that the library was no longer just your spot, not a glance shared with Satoru, focused all so much at the objective of hogging as much study material as you could for the exam.

A sharp inhale though, annoyance seeping in as you viewed the message on the white piece of paper, decorated with all so many hearts, “Good luck losing, doll-face.”

—.—.—

~Night before the Exam~

“You’re sick for this, you know,” Satoru’s words rang in his head, he scoffed, maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t.

How could it even matter?

The flashlight remained tucked between his arms, working, quick, eyes scanning over the question paper as he stood in the Dean’s Office.

Being a good student, trusted student of course had it perks—the security cameras just somehow malfunctioning could be no coincidence either.

And then again, he wouldn’t cheat a lot, just enough, just to beat you — just enough.

-

And so the next day, while your confident farce broke just a little to see him ask for more sheets than you, to see him write longer—to see him almost do the exam better than you, something told you that the bet wasn’t made in vain, Suguru Geto was a man of plans.

—.—.—

~1st December~

You were sure you’d left before him, before anyone—as always.

And yet, just the way your stomach twisted when you saw his figure standing by the notice board—his grinning face—that was all it took for you to realize that something wasn’t right.

“The fuck are you grinning for?” The nervousness was obvious—Suguru loved it.

“Mind the language love,” he mused—stepping aside, letting your eyes find their own horror.

Rank Marks Allotted

Suguru Geto [Valedictorian] 95/100

Y/n L/n [Salutatorian] 94/100

And oh how he loved the way your face fell, how he loved the green in your eyes and the red tint of your of your burning ears.

“The test was hard though so you know-” the glint of victory all so evident, “-shut up,” you huffed.

“Shut the fuck up—it’s just-”

“-just one mark? Yeah, no.” He snickered behind you, “and ah? Aren’t you the one supposed to be doing what I say? No more teetering me about, doll,” a wink, a shiver up your spine.

He wasn’t wrong.

“Whatever, what do you want? Laundry done or what? Breakfast-”

Suguru’s head tilted to the side, adorably, as if a puppy’s, “you think that’s bad? Oh jeez y/n,” he grinned, “somebody’s in for a surprise?”

And before the realizations of what something worse had to be, before a retort could befall your lips, Suguru Geto had spoken once more—voice defiant, “To my dorm, now.”

The wind around you was cold, yes but chilly was the sensation you felt down your spine.

-

The room was organised, books on the right shelf, mangas on the left—his family photo on the right corner of the desk and a poster of his favorite baseball team right in front.

Nothing you would ever find your room as—scrawled up notes lay shoved in every corner—silly gifts from friends and a pile of unwashed coffee cups.

The contrast was thorough.

Your eyes bore into his, his into your figure-“what do you- why are we here?”

Suguru glared for a second, “what did you think would happen when you lost?”

Not this.

Or, well.

You’d assumed Suguru would use his chance to embarrass you, thoughts were quick though, infested you sat through seconds and hours, days even—thoughts of Suguru Geto and your “humiliation”.

It wasn’t that you wanted to lose, but you wouldn’t have minded—and so a blind eye was all you had to offer when Satoru dropped the keys to the dean’s office—a deaf ear turned when you heard him bragging of the plan to his girls, a stifled laugh when Suguru smacked his head for talking too much.

But now that the situation lay bared, maybe, just maybe it wasn’t the best situation to be in.

Maybe, the nervousness finally crept into the skin—maybe, you realised, maybe you shouldn’t have.

Fortunately or not though, Suguru was perceptive as he was caring—somewhat, “Don’t be nervous, I’m not gonna- you know,” he grinned, thoughts pertaining to your imagination—you didn’t like where and why it lead to everything it did.

Suguru hummed as he walked about, you stood all so awkward in the middle of his room—a hand patted the space next to him on his bed, “come on up here doll,”

You didn’t want to, but oh how the feet moved before they could stop.

“I don’t want to,” he smiled, soft, “well, you do realize what I want, right?”

A gulp, “I’ve never-”

“-I know,” he paused, “I’m not gonna force you into it, only if you wanna-”

You did want to, hell if there was anyone you wanted to trust, it would forever be Suguru Geto somehow.

“What if I say no?”

“Then feel free to just lounge about, I’d love talking to you,”

Heart pace quickened, you licked your lips—“I thought you- you’d make me…”

“Not a monster doll, not gonna do nothing you don’t want,” and just then you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face too, fuck, you really were into him huh?

A bite of your lips, a giggle his—“I think…I think you’ve won fair and square,”

Another small giggle, and boy was everything he did adorable—“you know I cheated-” you bobbed your head, and oh how he was down bad for you too.

“C’mere,”

-

15 minutes in, you’d already taken off your rings—the rules of the game Suguru wanted you to play were simple.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he’d chuckled, “but, s’not gonna help today,” a book lay in his hands— “I ask the questions and you answer, for every wrong answer you strip, take off one piece of clothing,”

A grin you passed, “of course,” you’d snickered—sitting across him.

“What is my favorite color?” A brow you raised, confused still as to why Suguru even bothered opening the book which read, “NEUROROBOTICS” when all he bothered asking were stupid questions with stupider answers.

“It’s…white? Or uh, blue?” Shots in the dark, all wrong—what pained you though were his answers—“nu uh,” he grinned, “take something off again, and better not tease me again,” you giggled.

The last two questions were just trivial as this, about him, and you’d answered them right too—except he just didn’t accept them at all.

You cursed internally, for skipping wearing socks because as of now you you were debating for the crucial options, the jeans or the top.

Suguru grinned, “my favorite color’s that though, you know when you blush,” you groaned at his words—chuckling along with him because frankly, when had you ever ‘blushed’ for him at all.

Your eyes moved fast, the top it was.

His eyes were sharp, stuck onto your form, pulled right over your head—Suguru was loving his day.

“White huh?” he grinned, your face burned at the way he stared at your Lacy white bra, “it is my favorite color after all,”

“Ask the next question” you snapped—hand reaching for a pillow to help yourself.

Suguru’s smile was soft, “ok, how about…how long have you wanted to fuck me?”

It physically made you uncomfortable to how hot the tip of your ears had gotten.

“No point lying, since we're both here to fuck anyways,”

You pursed your lips, it was true but then—“since the beginning of this year,”

Suguru chuckled at that, clicking his tongue—“the pants now?” your face dropped, it was risky—it would be a first, and with the way Suguru sat fully dressed, humiliating.

“I'm not lying-”

“Liar,”

“I'm not-”

“I'll make ya take off two pieces if you keep this up,”

Two- pants and either of your bra perhaps, or panties, neither seemed better than the other.

A retired ‘ok,’ you choked out, scoffing at how he smirked when your fingers moved in to pull the pants down, slow—“what's the correct answer?”

“The day you first saw me,”

You despised the way he was correct.

Pushed down your legs and thrown aside your pants lay—your eyes and Suguru’s, trailed up all the way to your calves.

“Matching set? You wanted this to happen hm?”

And you despised the experience and knowledge he had—his gaze remained stuck on the white Lacy panties you'd decided to wear.

For him.

How scandalous.

“Continue the game,” Suguru grinned—”how long have I wanted to fuck you?”

Your mouth ran dry—oh?

“The beginning of the semester?” you guessed, truthfully, heartbeat fastening when he smirked—”you have no idea how long I've wanted you here, like this,”

He stood close now, very close, his hand itself moving to unclasp your bra—warm breath fanning your face, “how long?” you whispered.

“Forever. Since I saw you,”

A giggle you let out—“you- no way, you simp,”

A giggle, his—“and there, you ruined the moment,”

A giggle, together.

“Let me see?” Suguru murmured, pulling away softly, slowly the pillow off of your form—finally, the bra pulled away too—his hands held your breasts softly.

You were sure though, the nervousness all too evident in your face, “easy, I'll take care of you,”

You passed a nod in response— biting your lips as the way his hands squeezed you, held you—his thumb rolling onto your nipples—half hardened they stood already in the chilly air of his room.

“You're damn gorgeous,” he whispered- lips pressed against yours, fingers massaging your boobs carefully, “fuck I- you've never?”

A swift shake of your head, “mm’ gonna corrupt you tonight ok?”

And just like that, pushed down to your back you lay, “spread your legs doll,”

And you did, pace fastening as he leaned into the spot between your legs, hand lingering on your inner thigh—“are you turned on?” the smirk on his face was telling, of course you were, “got turned on thinking what I would do to you? Aren't you just the cutest?”

You were inexperienced, sure, but you weren't going to let him tease you all so much-“hurry it up I- hah!”

Or maybe you would, you didn't know.

A soft gasp interrupted your words quick, two fingers pressed directly onto your pussy, prodding about, dancing slight as he tramped about your opening.

“You must've touched yourself?” the question itself felt sickening, you shouldn't have to tell him—“yes,” you mumble slowly, “ever thought about me?”

Another ‘yes’ indiscriminately fell off your lips.

Right at your position you saw him smile, dumbfounded when he whispered a ‘me too,’

Suguru’s other hand—fingers ran close circles on your thigh, “I won't go all the way tonight, you're scared and that's fine—” you gulped, reassurance flitting through you, “wanna make you feel good though,” and exactly as his sentence ended, he propped your legs all the way to his shoulders, despite all that he was doing, an almost innocent —“comfy?” he dropped in the name of formality.

“Relax,” he cooed, soft and gentle as he slowly leaned in, “you're in good hands ok?” your breath hitched still as the first lick came about, wetness spreading all the more than it already was—you were sure you’d never found yourself all so wet.

“Suguru- I- c-can't we do this without the-”

Without the panties—you were already wrecked for him.

A Cheshire smirk spread on his features from down below, “no, we'll go step by step, that's how the studious ones go, right?” you held back a moan when his fingers found your clit—rubbing slow circles, panties getting drenched in your own slick.

“Was that a moan doll?” his words suddenly caught up—a sharp slap landed on your pussy, eliciting a small cry, ”I wanna hear everything from you doll, every whimper, every cry and moan—everything,” you could only nod, and gasp slight as he dived in to press a kiss against your clothed folds.

“I'm so glad you're wearing white sweets,” a devilish grin his and an embarrassed squeak yours as he pinched your folds through your panties—drenched in result of his spit and licks and your own slick, completely see through.

And all throughout, Suguru was relentless in the way he spread apart your folds easily, peeking at the hints of your exposed cunt.

Fingers hooked to repeatedly rub your clit, so slow, never the right pressure or pace—snickering at how your mouth hung ajar, eyes drooping with pleasure.

Low pants and shy breaths only encouraged the raved haired boy still, sparing fingers and diving right in with his lips attached to your pussy lips and panties—tongue pushing against so obscenely against your hidden hole.

A sheepish grin he held, “Suguru,” you let out a broken sob, “please,”

The whine had him feeling back, looking up at you—eyes never Fuller, almost as if drunk in your juices, “hm?”

“Want more—pl-please,” it was almost a drag, your words.

Sobbing almost, at the way he chuckled—“nu uh, this is still technically your punishment, you know that right?”

But even so, Suguru knew he wouldn't deny you pleasure, just…maybe, just tease you a lot—drive you over the edge with his words before his tongue would do it, but he would get to it, surely.

And deep down he knew it too, he couldn't have had anything in him to deny you it either, not when you squirmed for him so adorably.

Just as before, Suguru attached his tongue to your see through panties, swirling around your folds and nub—until he playfully nimbled on it—basking in your gasp and sudden clutch of your fingers on his hair.

Suguru wrapping his lips over your clit once again, feverishly suckling on the swollen flesh— tempted to just move your panties to the side and eat you out like a starved man who hadn’t eaten in weeks.

But then, even with, close to none, experience that you had —you were sure that is what carnal desire would be presented as.

The idea was enticing, to just have it all flipped to the side—but he wasn’t one to give up so easily—and then he did want to see you suffer and cry all for him. Even if he’s currently losing his mind to actually get a taste of your pussy.

“S-Suguru—please, s’close!” his tongue danced about your folds, warping and swiveling the mushy flesh until your legs started to shake—as did you.

Your back arched, loud moans leaving your mouth—almost pornographic they sounded, as your hand was still gripping Suguru’s locks tightly.

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks with your jaw slightly hanging open but no words were escaping your lips, your body spasmed, your grip on suguru’s hair loosened as you held onto the sheets underneath you instead—before you came really hard, drenching your panties even more with your cum.

Suguru was kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as he looked up to you, licking his lips, practically tasting your cum on his tongue already. You swallowed thickly, meeting his intense gaze on you and before you could mutter or say anything— Suguru had beat you to it.

“Not done yet doll,” he grinned—fingers hooking in the waist band of your panties—“next question decides if you become the good little student that you are, and I teach you how to please me—or you get punished more when I get it actually gt to play with your pussy,”

A broken giggle escaped you, “oh well, what is it?”

Suguru couldn't help but giggle at you too, so damn cute that he found you, “how many times are you cum for me?”

All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[heartfullofleeches]

Oh god V x loser darling would be a ship made in hell two deranged idiots together causing untold destruction

As mentioned in this post, V and Loser Reader seem to absolutely fucking despise each other on the surface, but while Reader might actually hate him - V is crushing hard and his feelings show when they attempt to leave his presence or talk to someone else. I imagine they met somewhere online- their first encounter being some dumb comment war beef between them or screaming match in a game lobby and when Reader roasts his ass, not realizing he's a serial doxxer and will release someone's address just for saying his favorite anime is mid, V gathers their information and starts to stalk them planning on ruining their life - but once he finally sees a picture of them his stupid ass immediately starts crushing on them and uses the information he's gained to scare them into dating him

-

V: Your argument falls through as you clearly have the vocabulary of a middle schooler. Even a literal child would be better at getting their point across that you. Can you even form one coherent sentence, you fucking parasite-

Loser Reader: Kys. Freak.

V: I'm going to dox you and your entire family. We'll see how brave you are when your address is posted for everyone to find

Loser Reader: Here's something to help you out, bitch. [Sends him a private message of themself giving him the middle finger]

[V quietly removes their username from the folder titled "hitlist" and saves the picture they sent him - adding it to different folder titled "Homework"] (spoilers: it ain't homework in that folder)

-

Loser Reader: I'm heading out!

V: Who the fuck said you could leave without me?

Loser Reader: Kiss my ass, Vince.

V:

V: I mean I'll do it, but you're still not leaving this house.

-

Loser Reader: Vince, can I use your credit card?

V: With the way you treat me? Fuck no.

[Loser Reader pulls out a pair of cat ears and puts them on]

Loser Reader: Vincey....

V: No, Y/n.

Loser Reader: but your kitty needs it. 👉👈 You don't want to have a sad kitty do you? Sad kitties don't buy maid dresses and cute lingerie with your money to make themselves cute, and submissive and breedable for you-

[V sighs and hands them his wallet]

Loser Reader, tossing the cat ears into the trash: Thanks, Virgin. Would've offered to suck you off if you held out a bit longer, but oh well~

V: ....I will report all of my cards as stolen if you aren't on your knees by the time I count to three

[frxxxncx]

wet shirt - y. jeonghan

»boyfriend!¡yoon jeonghan x fem!¡reader.

»Summary: you were just playing with the cold water, but jeonghan was getting hotter and hotter.

»Tags: smut (MDNI), pet names, establish relationship, comedy?(I tried), exhibitionistm, dirty talk, suggestive (I didn’t write a full sex scene, sorry😭), sex in public, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, jeonghan and reader are two broke collage students, there’s no a/c in the middle of the summer, jeonghan is down bad for readers waist, mingyu’s cousin is car washing with her cheerleaders friends, dom!jeonghan, sub!reader.

»Words: 2,5k

note: I’m struggling to survive during the heatwaves in my country.

note 2: Any typo or incoherence that you might find was completely intentional, it’s for the sake of learning about my mistakes.

An extremely hot day of September, Jeonghan and you were about to die because of the heat, with the a/c broken and without any money to get it fixed, the only thing that was left for both of you to do was endure it.

You were laying on the cold living room floor, feeling briefly fresh, well, only your backs felt cool, but that was better than nothing at all. You wanted to cry so bad, maybe if your boyfriend and you have gotten an smaller apartment or if you had gotten another part-time job all your problems would be solved, but that was the closest apartment to the campus and both of you were in a moment in your carriers were only one job was starting to crash with you studies.

Jeonghan let out a loud sigh and approached you sliding slowly through the floor, a long arm wrapped you tightly, body’s melting together, he hugged your pretty waist, and your face hid in his chest while he smelt the scent of your shampoo.

“Jeonghan, get away from me, we are in the middle of a heatwave with no a/c and the last thing I want is sweat” you said trying to loosen his grip, you only managed to get even more impossibly close to him.

“Your waist is very pretty, did you know?” He stated, letting you go, but now he was outlining your figure, specifically the big curvature of your waist while you were lying on your side.

“It’s not that pretty” a shiver ran through your body at the soft feeling of his hot hands over your covered skin.

“It is, and I like it a lot” he left a cute little peck on your lips, before getting up to go to the kitchen.

You giggled like a high schooler whose boyfriend just kissed her for the first time, and kicked the air once you were laying over your back again. You found the ceiling very interesting for a moment, thoughts ramming in your head, and then one of your top 10 most humbling moments of all time popped up. Well the floor was an incredible place to think about shit from the past.

Trying to forget by closing your eyes tightly you didn’t notice when your boyfriend came running from the kitchen with his phone in his hand, jumping like a child whom just was rewarded with candies.

“¡Baby!” He called you many times jumping beside you, but when you didn’t answer at the fifth call he got genuinely annoyed for a moment.

“Fucking bitch, get up, we are going to earn some quick money” he declared upset, putting one of his feet’s on you stomach.

“Ouch, take your feet away from me and my tummy” you said while grabbing his ankle trying to move him away.

You sat up stretching your back that cracked very loud making you win a weird look from Jeonghan, that was a nice crack though.

“Babe, my tummy” your voice came in a childish tone making you cringe.

“Tummy my ass, get up, we are going to work” he said at the same time he offered you his hand.

“Work?, wher-, no, how? Don’t tell me, did you sell one of my kidneys?” The fake fear in your voice made Jeonghan crack a smile while helping you get up.

“But you can live with only one” he played along, and you gave him a weak punch in his arm “Come on, I would never sell your organs in the black market, they are for me in case I get sick” he said boasting

“You little fucker” you whined in a very high pitched tone while he laugh loudly “Now, for real, where are we going to work in a Sunday afternoon?” You asked, getting close to your boyfriend so you could steal a soft kiss from him.

“We are going to wash some cars with Mingyu’s cousin and her cheerleaders friends” you looked at him in disbelief, where you were going to wash the cars?, Mingyu lived in a New York size apartment with no parking lot “you know the gas station where he works?” You nod and he smiled, an “ooh” left your mouth.

Jeonghan kissed you again, but this time, instead of giving you just a cute peck, you felt his tongue caress your lower lips and with a weak moan you give the wet muscle permission to enter you mouth, his hot tongue stroked your own, a whimper escaped from the kiss and Jeonghan stopped but not without biting onto your lower lips, you were just so cute and desirable.

“Let’s go?” He said licking his pinky and glossy lips.

“Yeah” you felt pathetic from the way your voice came out in a thread. Shit.

[🍭]

The sun was in a burning heat, attacking mercilessly everyone, you were squeezing the sponges, feeling drops of sweat dance in your forehead when you saw how the cheerleaders along with Mingyu's cousin were playing with the water, wetting themselves while soaping the cars.

Both of you were damp in sweat and your hands hurt because of the rough texture of the sponge, but you and your boyfriend were firm, both determined to get the money to fix their portal to heaven. The air conditioner.

Mingyu finished his turn a few hours ago, leaving you and Jeonghan alone, with a bunch of “pretty” teenage girls that were rubbing themselves in the windows of the cars. You noticed how this man who seemed quite old and looked… somehow weird got into the space given from the gas station for the car washing, the car was shining like it was brand new, even the wheels were sparkling.

“Disgusting” you mumbled, but as the time passed by, you didn’t even care to look again if the cars were clean or not, more money for the a/c.

Yet the sun was affecting you, tiny tears were starting to build in your eyes.

“Hannie, my eyes hurt” you said, pounding to just sit next to your boyfriend -whom was cleaning the rims- and hug his side, resting your face in his arm.

“Baby, we’ll be lucky if we just get out of here with our eyes hurting and not with a sunburn,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Can’t wait to have the apartment as cold as the north pole” you whimpered with a high pitch tone.

“Me neither”

[🍭]

You guys didn’t have any idea of how the things turned out this way, the girls were having a wet shirt contest and maybe it was the fact that the school shirts were so soaked they looked translucent and that some of them didn’t have bra, but the clients were giving money like crazy, the tips jar was about to burst, and that indeed made you both so happy.

But your happiness was about to be doomed, you saw how JiWon -Mingyu’s cousin- was getting closer with the old green hose in her hands, with determination in her eyes.

Jeonghan and you ran like a soul who is hunted by the devil, the much younger girl was faster, relentless and with no mercy, the first one to get drenched With the extremely cold water was Jeonghan.

His grey shirt attached to his chest like a second skin, Jeonghan thought that the feeling was going to be excruciating, but the only thing that he felt was satisfaction, making his muscles relax.

“Jiwon!, me too, me too!” You beg when you saw how your boyfriend enjoyed the bath of cold water.

Your cousin’s friend did as requested, soaking you more than your lover who was laughing soundly, he was going to crack a joke when he finally caught more than a glimpse of you, mouth agape at the sight.

The thin fabric of your blouse outlined your delicate figure, accentuating your small waist and the curvature of your breast, black underwear, noticeable under the cloth, your hair looked darker, droplets of water travelled over your neck, disappearing at the collar of the shirt.

Jeonghan was certain, he needed more than just a little splash of water, he was getting hotter and hotter, and if the water wasn’t going to cool him down, only your arousal could.

You gave him a bright smile, his heart melted because you were just too adorable. He wanted to eat you whole.

A smirk was painted in Jeonghan’s pretty face, walking towards you while feeling his hardening cock rub against the fabric of his shorts.

He grabbed you by the waist, body’s so close your face was pressed to his chest, and you couldn’t help but joggle at the hard touch of his dick on your belly.

Jeonghan’s face got close to your ear, biting down your earlobe; he felt you trembling at the action.

“You know, pretty doll?” His hoarse whisper in your ear was ecstasy for you “In this wet shirt’s contest, you are the winner” his grip on your waist tightened taking your breath.

“Han-hannie” you said in a pathetic cry of his name, his hot chest against your was to much,

he was holding you firmly, making you that you could feel his dick poking your belly “We’re at the gas station, Hannie” you tried to move away from him, only managing to make him let go of your waist, but now he was fondling your breast over your shirt in a public space.

“Mmh, you’re right, but I think everyone is focused on the girls, so maybe, it would be better…”his face approached to yours, so close his lips stroked yours faintly “It would be better if we get into the car”he said with his honeyed voice, abiding into your ears“I’m going to fuck you so good, doll” his hot tongue licked you lips and you wanted to cry so bad, because of how much you craved his touch.

Your boyfriend grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers and guided you towards the old -old- jeep, that was parked behind the gas station.

Once you were beside the car, Jeonghan parted away from you, this time groping the curvature of your ass, making you yelp.

With some struggle he opened the back door of the truck and manhandled you into the back seats, getting inside after you, closing the door with a slam.

He hovered over you, dragging with his hands your oversized shorts, smoothing your cute and puffy thighs, feeling the wet and slightly cold skin.

“Jeonghan, I don’t think this is a good idea” you stuttered, containing a loud and scandalous whine because of the flaring touch of your lover getting closer to your crotch.

“It is a bad idea, in fact it is an incredibly bad idea, but that doesn’t mean we are not going to do it anyway” he whispered with mockery splattered all over his voice, his soft lips grazing over you neck, making you shiver.

Jeonghan hands descended completely to your crotch, touching just lightly over your clothed cunt to then grab your waist tightly once again.

His fingers soothed your flesh over the shirt, they stroked your back, meeting with the hem of your shorts and sneaking inside your underwear.

The skin from your ass was smooth and warm, he massaged up and down, squeezing and spreading your asscheeks shamelessly while you drowned your whimpers in his mouth.

His fingers groped your tight and sticky core, caressing carefully, enjoying how you tried to silence your moans biting your knuckles.

He got his hands out of your shorts, unbuttoning them with expertise, pulling them out in a quick swing, skin reddening at the friction.

Your cheeks were bright red, embarrassed because of the situation you were in, naked from the waist down, with the strong and obscene gaze from your boyfriend over your body. Your forearm rested over your eyes, feeling overly exposed. It's not the first time Jeonghan sees you like this, but you still have the entitlement to feel a little bit of shame because of how vulnerable you are right now.

“You’re perfect” he said, grabbing your arm and pinning them over your head with one hand. “You’re perfect and only mine.” He howled and kissed you passionately, sucking, biting your lips, enjoying the sugary taste of your mouth, and swallowing your moans delightedly.

With his free hand, he lifted your soaked shirt, now contemplating your soft and milky skin, his eyes now fixated over your breasts, his free hand moved your bra, tits now spilling over your chest, perky buttons saying “hi” to Jeonghan in neediness.

He licked his lips with lewdness in his eyes, his hot breath made your perky buttons even more sensitive -if that was even possible-, his lips left an open mouthed kiss, gifting you a hickey just above the bud of nerves, to then proceed and bite and suck your nipple, your boyfriend couldn’t help but feel thrilled by the cry’s that slipped from your mouth.

“Ha- nnie” you said in a pathetic mewl, you felt feverish when his teeth bit into the sensitive flesh, just like you were about to pass out from the sensation.

Jeonghan pressed his fingers in your mouth, making you lick and suck them. Once they were covered in your spit, his hand went once again to your cunt, pressing his fingers into your soaked core.

Two of his fingers entered into your inviting pussy without a warning, digits curling and hitting deliciously every good spot inside of you, Jeonghan savored how your face was showered in ecstasy, knowing that only him could make you feel this good.

You rolled your eyes and your mouth fell agape, gutural moans coming from you, your damp hair sticking to your soft skin and your cunt drooling exited, velvety walls pulsating and sucking his fingers, making him grunt because sooner than later it would be his cock fucking you to the hilt.

“Y/n l/n, hear your name now, pretty, because I’m going to fuck you so hard you’re going to forget it”.

[🍭]

Fast forward to now, Jeonghan was doing the roll of a crutch so you could walk properly towards the younger girls. The mess spilling from your cunt into your underwear making you feel embarrassed, and the burn in your gummy walls, only made you more expectant for what was coming at home.

“Jeonghan, I can assure you that you fucked something inside of me” you whispered not feeling your legs at all, they were asleep because of the cramped place you just had sex in.

“I did more than that,” he said nonchalantly, tightening the grip on your waist.

“Shut up!” you said in a funny cry.

Once you were close to the group of girls, they excitedly gave you an envelope full of money as they thanked you for the help.

Jeonghan got so excited that he let you go, making you lose your balance. You felt a sharp pain in your knees, a loud howl slipped from your mouth, and when your boyfriend looked at you, he felt his dick twitch in his shorts at the view, you were giving him such a mean glare.

“Don’t look at me like that, I might fuck you again”

[gothamite-rambler]

"Wait, who took you down?"

Context: Any Gotham criminal is adjusting to the fact that a child sidekick took them down instead of the adult in the hero duo of Batman and Robin.

Calendar Man (perplexed, tilting his head): I'm sorry... the child sidekick he has can fight?

Joker, when he hadn't become way worse than he is now, nodded as he rubbed his sore shoulder. Scarecrow, sitting on the other side of the prison table, started laughing while carving his spoon into a shiv. Joker groaned.

Calendar Man (raising an eyebrow): And he beat you up?

Joker (embarrassed, but trying to hide it): Yes. Get the laughs out—Joker slipped up once and got beaten by a child that is clearly taking steroids or something.

Calendar Man (trying to rationalize this): Okay, but like Batman was the one to deliver the final punch. At least say that—

Joker (frustrated): The damn child defeated me and three of my hired henchmen. Apparently, he bit one of them on the leg, which means my defeat wasn't that bad that night.

Scarecrow (smirking): J, you still got thrashed around by a child and lost. Batman never stepped in and defeated you; the child did.

Calendar Man (hiding his smirk by covering his mouth): I'm trying not to mock you, mostly because you do scare me, but... how could you not stop a child!?

Joker (shouting defiantly): Again, he has to be on steroids!

Calendar Man (skeptically): I—John, take this one.

Scarecrow (dryly): Right, the skinny, under five-foot child who possesses no magical powers is on steroids? You're really lying?

Joker slammed his fist on the table, wincing from the pain that ached through his body. His usually Cheshire smile stayed by sheer force, trying not to let the other bad guys see how much this defeat actually affected him.

Joker (defensively): I thought he was there for show! There was no way he actually could fight. Batman wouldn't be able to train him that well... then he pounced on me and I couldn't take him down!

Calendar Man (covering his smile with his hand, trying to be sympathetic): Why didn't you just kick him?

Scarecrow laughed more, not afraid of the Joker, and mocked the clown accordingly.

Scarecrow: Don't forget he's the size of a middle schooler. You seriously couldn't defeat him?

Joker (insistently): No! He caught me off guard! I'm not the only one who's had to deal with that brat either!

Scarecrow (flatly): Yeah, but you're on the actually threatening tier of villainy, and you got pulverized by a child.

Joker (getting defensive): I wasn't fucking pulverized!

Scarecrow (smirking): Right, you got your ass handed to you, as the Americans say. A bloody child did that. One who wears a hero suit that looks like a target.

Calendar Man (nodding thoughtfully): That is saying a lot because Batman is in a bat suit. Except at least he's six feet tall and menacing. The other one is sickeningly adorable.

Joker (irritated, crossing his arms): I'm... Aware! This isn't the end, though! When I get out of here—and I will escape this place—I'm beating his ass! Thinks he can crack jokes while bouncing around; that's my schtick!

Joker crossed his arms resolutely on this new vow of vengeance against a child. Poison Ivy, who had been eavesdropping on the three men talking, walked over with a look of disgust.

Poison Ivy (disdainful tone): You would be the type of slimeball to harm a child because they beat your ass and won. Pathetic.

She smacked Joker on the back of the head and walked off, chuckling at the clown villain’s ego being bruised by a kid whom she secretly didn't hate, unlike Batman.

Joker (harshly): Oh, shut up, you walking weed! Your powers are stupid, and you're green!

Poison Ivy (clapping back, smirking): Better green than looking like a skinny John Wayne Gacy.

Joker (vitriolously): At least I'm not a bitch!

Poison Ivy (waving a middle finger as she kept walking off): At least I didn't get defeated by a pre-teen!

Joker (shouting, frustrated): Bitch, don't try me!

Calendar Man (cautioning): You should stop while you're ahead, Joker, or today will be your death day. She doesn't play either.

Scarecrow chuckled dryly while carving his initials into the prison table with a shiv. Joker stormed off in the other direction, continuing to swear revenge… on a child.

[luciferanalyzestar]

Live Reaction: Ghostfuckers

Spoilers of course. I still hate the title of this episode. 0/10 for that alone. This post is just my unfiltered thoughts.

Look the other WLW couple in the Hellaverse! Forgot their names though.

Me thinking about how this show is slowly going downhill. /lhj Why is Blitz 'sulking' over Stolass?? Out of all the characters, he is sulking over the classist asshole who fetishize him for his species.

Man, I wish we saw more of that hard work. Not "yaoi." that overstayed its welcome. There is that Helluva cringe I love so much. /s

Ew. Blitz is fucking nasty. Ugh. More unfunny sexual jokes.

The American™️ experience.

Good!! Stolas is again, a classist species fetishizer. I do not Blitz that much, but he deserved someone better than the owl fucker. He needs to go to therapy first though.

Loona's attitude is fucking weird. She is 22 years old, why she calling Millie who is around 25-30 years old "grandma"??? If she was a teenager that would make sense, but she is an adult. Her insults suck pure ass. Like her calling Mooxie 'fat'. Send her ass back to that pound. /lhj

The word of the day is: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

Viv and the other writers need to learn new swear words.

The sex jokes are so bad. They are not even at high school level, more like middle schooler who laughs when seeing Bitch in the dictionary level.

This show overuses bitch too. There is no PUNCH to it anymore. It is like a sound bit at this point. I love this old man. Why does Blitz tell Mille to "Look out, he's a patriot!" like it is bad thing? He is a true definition of one unlike a certain party.

The song sucks. They truly peaked in Ozzie's and never returned to that level. YES MILLIE! Tell Blitz how you truly feel. That piece of shit has not paid you in weeks and was too busy buying cheap trash.

Remind of me of that faceless Squall moment in Final Fantasy VIII. I Never played the games though. I just know about it thanks to horror youtubers. I love me some good body horror. They finally took Blitz's mom out of the fridge. I am sorry but this scene is making me laugh. Her eye popping out is looks goofy. It like a zany cartoon from the 90s.

Backstory time? The dialogue is not natural in this scene. Blitz is saying some self-hating stuff and Millie is going "Do you remember" like she is Earth, Wind, and Fire. Imagine venting to someone about hating yourself and that you destroy everything you touch, and they say, "Remember how we met?" Blitz's response would be mines. "What?"

"Imps don't work for themselves, asshole."

I wish that show was still about this. A person from a lower class trying to work his way to the top. If that show would be more impactful and would be remember as the edgy demon show with an inspiring message that everyone would relate to or inspire to be. Not the sex joke obsessed demon show with awful writing and the main "appeal" is rotten yaoi. Anyway, the fight scene was fine. Loona looks off model when she has an happy expression. I am used to that aloof and pissed off expression she always have.

"He's my best friend."

Blitz is your best friend?? This is the most time y'all interacted with each other on scene. This is the first conversation Mille and Blitz has ever had. We are almost done with Season two by the way.

This show just loves to traumatize Blitz. I wish he relived his traumatizing experiences in a more natural way. Like seeing certain objects or hearing certain sounds makes him hyperventilate or sends him into the beginning of a panic attack. I have no issues with characters having trauma or PTSD, but it seems like Blitz's trauma is a part of his character to make him seem more interesting as the protag instead of telling how trauma can truly change and mold a person into something different. There are just sprinkles of this. Blitz puts a facade of being an foul mouthed asshole because he does not want to get attached to people, from the trauma of killing his own mother, and etc. I wish it was not this Clockwork Orange type shit. This is 100% a post for another day.

"Your level of insecurity is intoxicating." Rolando should visit the Hazbin hotel. The insecurity levels are off the charts in that place. /lhj "Tonight I'm Blitz Demon-Dicker!" That is pure cringe right there.

Blitz trying to have sex with the M&Ms was always creepy to me because the idea of a boss trying to sleep with his employees is gross. Stick to signing their paychecks, not being in-between their sheets. Blitz being jealousy of their relationship is fine; it should never have crossed into sexual territory.

Episode rating: 7.5/10

None of the jokes made me laugh which is the usual for me. That Blitz's mom scene is unintentional comedy though. Rewatching, it made me laugh again and of course there is a pin design of that scene too. This is Tilla's first real merch. Good for her. Of course they made merch for the one off. Someone is out there emptying their bank account to have a "complete collection" because they just love dropping merch back-to-back.

Lazy ass shit right here. Who in their damn mind would buy this? Better than that slurs shirt though. I have to talk about the Helluva merch, but they are doing recolors now. What is this a fighting game?

Back on topic, this episode actually kept my attention unlike Full Moon and Apology Tour. Watching those episodes made me want to start drinking. Just alright episode, one of the better ones for a season that was about to rot. I am starting to like Millie more; it is nice to see her talk to a character that is not Mooxie.

[queenofapeacefuldawn]

An Analysis of SPY × Family Chapter 99

Manga spoilers, and a very long post ahead!

I'd like to preface this with saying that all of this is my own analysis, and I'm not very smart at these things, so take this with a grain of salt!

This chapter was extremely heavy: with Henry realising his feelings for Martha, and how it echoed the main theme of this story: how war destroys relationships and how innocent civilians are forced to enlist out of fear for their families' safety.

The chapter starts off, continuing off the cliffhanger of the last chapter— it turns out to be a false alarm, but Martha leaves her feelings for Henry unsaid.

She begins writing letters to Henry, and they keep a regular correspondence to substitute for their tea parties--

The war continues to grow dire, and Martha's squad hasn't been given any combat training, yet, they're forced to go to the front lines, under the pretext of "serving your country" and "keeping your family safe".

Henry is obviously shocked and scared for Martha when he finds out she's on the front lines, but we never get to hear his thoughts with the introduction of this fucking bitch-

🤓☝️ lookin ass--

In this chapter, we get to see Donovan's own ideals, which are shown through his argument in the debate. Interestingly, Donovan is almost the same age as Demetrius is in the present-day. (At least, that's what I'm assuming-- Henry mentions being in charge of the middle schoolers, and Demetrius is a middle-schooler.)

He claims,

I have a couple of thoughts about this. First,

"I know that solving differences with dialogue and weapons is ideal". The phrasing of this is interesting, because it kind of sounds like he doesn't believe in that-- he just knows that solving differences with diplomacy instead of war is 'ideal', but does he really believe in that? I don't think he does-- and, his own definition of 'peace' is definitely... ambiguous. What does he think 'peace' is? Subjugating other countries with his own power?

He already has a strange concept of humanity and other humans' own ideals-- he believes that, at our core natures, human beings are liars. That the only thing we're capable of is war and destruction.

This is also very similar to his own ideals that we see in modern-day. He doesn't care about either of his sons, as he says, they are essentially strangers to him. And, you might have raised them (though with Donovan, "raised" is a stretch), you might be their own father, according to him, he will never truly know his sons. Which is why he doesn't even attempt to understand them. His own ignorance for human nature and for others around him is really what makes him a failure of a father-- we are never truly born "knowing" others. Yet, every day, we make an attempt to learn the people we care about-- and isn't that a little of what love is? Take the Forgers-- they are three strangers to each other, each concealing their own natures from the others. They're all liars, and yet, they're making an effort to heal; they're learning to love and they're learning to learn about the people around them, the people they care about.

This is his flawed ideology. In his world, humans are strangers-- humans are nothing to each other, they're always hiding their true intentions from each other. Humans can't be trusted-- humans don't trust each other, which is why war and destruction and pain is all humanity is capable of.

But it's really not. SxF's message is of how three strangers--- three orphans of a war they were forced to partake in--- come together and form a home. Yes, they are liars, yes, they're hiding their true intentions, but they're making a home for themselves, a home where one can be safe, where a young girl, who's experienced horrors no child should, can feel safe and in her mother's arms.

Which is why I think Donovan's ideology is so flawed--- and how beats of it echo in the modern-day SxF story, especially when Twilight meets him.

Yes, by mere dialogue, reaching a mutual understanding is idealistic, but the most important thing is to not stop seeking to understand each other.

Humans are flawed, humans are selfish, humans are kind--- there's a debate on whether, intrinsically, humans are good or bad. We're all given different cards to play with, but really, it's up to us to decide on our faith in humanity.

It seems like Donovan has a wholly negative view on humans--- we can never know each other's true intentions, and it's with this doubt that humans wage wars--- it's with this doubt that humans lie and kill and cause destruction.

It's because of this doubt that Desmond is planning a war himself.

Martha writes Henry a letter, and she talks about a dream where all the students are holding hands, circling Henry. She can't join them because her hands are filthy--- maybe it's guilt? Maybe she's feeling guilty, maybe she feels like she can't join the others because her hands are stained with blood.

She's scared. She's regretting joining the front lines. Her only solace is the letters from him. The only way he knows she's alive is the letters from her.

I feel like another story would have taken a turn, making Henry regret his own feelings for Martha because the war had torn them apart. Instead, Henry realises his own feelings and his own wants too late-- and it becomes the last letter he gets from her.

It feels like an extra gut punch, as in the beginning Martha was embarrassed to call him "beloved", but now, he's calling her beloved, and he misses her so much. He cares for her so much, and doesn't know how she is.

All he can think is---

His hands are stained with ink. The nib of his pen is almost breaking. Ink is bleeding onto the page. In Martha's dream, her hands are stained with blood due to her desire to protect Henry and her country. In Henry's reality, his hands are stained with ink due to his desire for Martha to come back, be with him again. The Soldier and the Scholar, each trapped in their own Hell.

Henry finds out that Martha's squad has been killed. Their lives were a "sacrifice" for their country. This is blatant propaganda, and, he feels they're sullying her memory by mythologizing her; by using her life, using her death as a way to snare more students into a violent and hopeless and painful battle.

He speaks out. He's punished.

He's been brutalised so much, that he needs to wear a monocle.

We learn more about Donovan's and Henry's own ideals. Donovan gives up on people who've disappointed him-- people who he deems as fools. Henry doesn't believe in that. He believes that everybody deserves to not be given up on--- every body deserves a person in their own corner.

Towards the end of the chapter, Henry's forced into a marriage by his father, believing it's "for the best", because the soldier he was waiting for never came back to him.

We cut to "Somewhere near the East-West border", to a home with a fireplace. Martha is just opening her eyes, and is severely injured.

This definitely isn't a safehouse or military barracks or a military hospital.

A home with a family, or at least a person, with a fireplace and a chopping block for firewood.

This place is also near the sea,

which makes me think it's somewhere near the south. (If I'm remembering the map correctly).

Edit: The map is faithful to irl Germany, which means the sea is to the north, not the south. Sorry for the discrepancy before!

I'm thinking someone rescued Martha while she was injured, and brought her to their place to rest and recuperate--- which is why she's presumed dead, and why Henry wasn't ever given closure.

The next chapter is no doubt going to be explosive--- the 100th chapter. I feel like this arc will segue into something bigger, something more heart-wrenching and painful (I don't know how that's possible, but I trust Endo-sensei.)

---

Thank you for making this far and reading this whole thing! I hope you enjoyed, and I hope I wasn't annoying with my hatred for Donovan lol.

Also, on a more light-hearted note, I explained the plot of SxF to my dad, and he's intrigued and wants to read the manga. I'm planning on showing him the first ep of the anime, to see if he likes it. I feel like he will.

[totalfrybag87]

I’ve never seen people so divided over an episode of The Boys before. Granted I wasn’t active in the online fandom until the tail end of the Season 3 rollout but I digress. What did y’all think if the newest episode? (Under the cut are my thoughts)

So um. I’m really half-n-half with this week’s episode.

There are a lot of things that I enjoyed:

- A-Train saving MM and then him and the kid smiling at each other at the hospital (kripke do not harm my pookie…)

- The Joe Kessler hallucination reveal (even though it was obvious, JDM ate that monologue UP!)

- A-Train and Kimiko interaction cuz how tf does Tek Knight have the perfect titles for books in there??? Also the last time they interacted (from what I remember) is from season 1 where they tried to kill each other so seeing them cooperate is cool.

- The Deep giving the new Noir some direction, something he desperately needed, and effectively radicalizing him (also shows how with a little push from Sage he went off the deep end. Ha.)

- The key book unlocking the dungeon being 120 days of sodom because…. Ofc it is

- Dumb sage interacting with HL and Victoria

- HL realizing he ain’t that smart when it comes to politics and can’t buzzword his way into political domination AND ALMOST CRYING LMAO? Also it affirmed what Barbara said in episode 4 about his need for love.

- Victoria saving HL’s ass cuz SHE is the actual politician and knows what she’s doing #girlboss

- Breast milk nut shot, had me screaming early in the morning cuz that actually shocked me

- Tek Knight being tortured via Starlight, Kimiko, Hughie (and Laddio) donating millions to causes that go against him i.e. The Innocence Project

- Tek Knight dying HALLELUJAH!!! Get that racist rich man gone.

- Hughie acknowledging that he was not okay at the end because with the shit he went through, no one would be.

But, I do have my gripes:

- Hughie’s SA scene. Way too long. Did I have to see him get violated for like half the episode?

- The dialogue. This emcompasses multiple episodes but the dialogue is so…. Edgy? To the point where it’s cringeworthy at times. It’s like that meme “If Vivziepop Wrote The Boys” and it’s just unecessary cursing or awkwardly placed cussing. Like why are these grown adults cursing like middle schoolers who just discovered “fuck shit bitch” for the first time?

- The Supe Virus. Sooooo it was fucking useless okay. But this does leave the door open for Sage. She is obviously not on Homelander’s side, she’s just there for her master plan of overthrowing him (that caesar line? Come on). I feel like she could pull off some double agent shit and help The Boys with the virus. If she can discover a cure for a disease at 11, she can definitely adjust the inner workings of a virus in her 30s. I hope that’s what happens in this season or at least in the next season. (Writers do not fail me now)

- Eric Kripke admitting that Hughie’s SA scene was supposed to be funny like bro what? You were able to handle Annie’s with grace but now that it’s a guy it’s funny now? I can understand making his situation somewhat comedic but really disturbing cuz that’s how I initially interpreted it and it’s really absurd if you decide to unpack the scene (okay i’m going undercover, wuh oh now i’m in a sex dungeon and am about to be dominated :0). But yeah, weird asf. Poor Hughie man. SOURCE

- This episode felt like filler. It’s like they sacrificed narrative progression for Hughie getting tortured. Let’s see what exactly happened in this episode that moved the general narrative forward (at least what I picked up on): A-Train redeeming himself more leading to his eventually defection from The Seven, Joe Kessler hallucination reveal, Sage sorta kinda losing her reliability with HL due to her getting shot in the head, The Deep radicalizing Black Noir 2, The Boys getting dirt on Victoria I guess. Idk I feel like we could’ve gotten more relevant plot moments had they just cut up the SA scene.

But that’s just what I think, lemme know your thoughts.

[whats-her-quirk]

Secret Oath Chapter 5

last || m.list || next

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marco bott x fem!reader

18+ mdni

word count: 5k

chapter warnings: mentions of underage drinking, sexual innuendo, brief bi panic, reader sits in a shopping cart and conditions her hair

a/n: made it in just under the 2 year mark with a new update. guys...

♪ farewell andromeda (welcome to my morning) by john denver

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When you’re not chasing grade schoolers from place to place, there are only so many things to do at camp. After hiking, swimming, reading, and just generally hanging out around a campfire in your free time, you tend to get a little desperate for a change of pace. With a little planning ahead, Ymir has secured everybody a night off for a Wal-Mart trip, and by the end of a long week, the idea of hitting up the only nearby grocery store is genuinely as exciting as a ticket to Disneyland.

Camp Shiganshina is at least fifteen square miles from anywhere, so walking to town is out of the question. You spend dinnertime trying to figure out the carpool situation, and it turns out not everyone is coming along. Bertholdt twisted his ankle playing basketball, so he’s staying in the cabin for rest, ice, compression, and elevation on Nanaba’s orders. Eren and Mikasa also decline for unknown reasons, but they’re always weird like that, and only Jean seems disappointed. That leaves seven of you, and there’s only one vehicle in the parking lot that can fit that many passengers.

Erwin is surprisingly chill with the idea of letting you borrow the company van. “Why take two cars when you can all fit in there?” he reasoned when you, Reiner, and Hitch went to ask him together. “There’s no sense wasting your gas, and you’ll be safer if you all stick together.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll make sure everybody’s taken care of,” says Reiner, flexing so hard you hear a thread snap in his t-shirt.

Erwin laughs, big and exuberant and sincere. “Of course! You have my trust.”

After running back to the cabin to toss your wallet and other necessities in a bag, you meet in the parking lot outside the mess hall. Erwin and Miche are leaning against the front of the van chatting while everyone loads up. Hitch dances her way over to them, holding out a hand to Erwin. “Keys, please!”

Erwin dangles a keychain as old as the vehicle itself above her palm before quirking a thick brow at her. “You are not to go over 55 miles per hour on the state route. You are not to exceed 35 on the side roads. And everyone wears their seatbelts. Understood?”

Perhaps startled by his serious tone, Hitch dials herself back. “Yes, sir.” He smiles and nods as he drops the keys in her hand, and she scuttles away to the driver’s seat.

Miche nudges you with his elbow. “Will you text me when you get there safe?”

You roll your eyes, hiding how sweet you find it. “Whatever, dad.” He makes a face at you. You stick out your tongue.

“Hey loser, you got bitch seat,” Ymir calls for you out the sliding door of the van.

You whirl around. “Historia is the smallest, why can’t she sit in the back?”

“We drew straws or something, I don’t know. Got a problem with that?” You’re used to the sass, but when she nods her head to the back of the van, it clicks. Marco and Jean sit on opposite ends of the third row bench seat—of course the middle is reserved for you.

You squeeze your way between the two bucket seats in the middle row, making sure to step and lean on Ymir as much as possible as you climb over her, just to be annoying. Tucking your bag between your feet, you manage to wedge yourself between the boys, shoulder to shoulder.

“Cozy,” you chuckle.

Jean reaches for the handle above the side window, making a little more space between you. “It’s not that far, at least.”

You pat behind both hips looking for your seat belt before you realize Marco is sitting on it. You start to reach for it, freezing only inches from his ass. “Uh, Marco. Can you scoot—”

Marco looks down where your leg is pressed against his. “Oh yeah! Uh…”

He twists as far as he can, already buckled, trying to lift his hip out of your way. You reach under him quickly, but your knuckles definitely drag across his back pocket. You click your buckle and then sit stiff as a board, hyper-aware of the fact that you fully touched his butt.

“Jesus Christ,” Jean mutters, sending you and Marco into a fit of laughter as Hitch backs out of the parking spot.

The first several minutes of the drive are spent messing with the music. Ymir shouts for Reiner to switch over to the radio, but every time he tries, it switches itself back to the tape deck after a few seconds. The cassette won’t eject, so your options are a John Denver single or silence.

“Leave it, this is a great song!” Historia begs. Neither Ymir nor Reiner will say no to her, but at least it’s Take Me Home Country Roads.

You’re a little embarrassed at first, but Marco nudges you after the first chorus. “Come on, I know you know the words. Everybody knows this song!”

You can feel your cheeks burning. “You just wanna make me sing.”

“Maybe I do.”

Historia is already singing, and when you start, so does Marco. Jean pipes up, and so does Reiner, and soon, everyone is belting the chorus.

There are only two songs on the cassette, and the B-side must have been less popular, because nobody knows the words to it. The van quiets down, but Marco still hums along. When you give him a surprised look, he blushes.

“My mom loves John Denver. I recognize the melody.”

It’s funny when Take Me Home repeats and prompts a second singalong, but by the fourth time the tape flips over, no one is singing anymore. Hitch turns the volume down to a faint rumble, and before long, you pull into the nearly empty parking lot of the Wal-Mart.

You stumble out of the back seat, thankful to stretch your legs after being crammed in so tight. You shoot off a text to Miche, letting him know you made it to the store with no casualties, to which he replies k thx kid. You could truly gag.

“Do we need a cart?” Reiner asks as you approach the giant sliding doors.

“Better get a couple,” you reply, pulling one from the stack. You know you want to buy snacks, grab a couple packs of Gatorade, and probably beg Ymir to get you some alcohol to smuggle away, and you’re not carrying all that around by yourself.

“Is there, like, no one here?” Jean asks, stepping through the second set of doors. “I swear it feels like it’s closed.”

“Relax, there are other cars outside.” Ymir rides her cart past him like a scooter, pumping her foot for a few paces before jumping on the bottom rail and gliding down the center aisle.

“What do we need to get?” Historia asks, scrambling after her.

“I’m heading for food and drinks,” you announce, pointing your cart toward the grocery section. Marco and Jean drift that way along with you.

“I need another pair of flip flops,” says Hitch. She and Reiner start to head the other way, where you’re sure she’ll find much more than just a pair of flip flops.

“I’m out of shampoo,” says Historia.

“And I want one of those things that you can make a grilled cheese with over the campfire. Everyone get what you want and then meet back at the pharmacy. And…go!” Ymir takes a running start, then rides her shopping cart out of sight as you head for the groceries.

You lose Jean somewhere around the Pop Tarts.

“Where did he go? Wasn’t he just behind us?” Marco asks, pushing the cart beside you in the beverage aisle.

“Either he wandered off or he’s looking for us just as fast as we’re looking for him.” You stop to heave a twelve pack of purple Gatorade on the bottom rack of the cart, making the whole thing rattle. You try to hide how heavy you’re breathing as you reach up toward the top shelf for another multi-pack.

“Want me to get those for you?” Marco asks.

“Sure, grab a pack of blue ones, please.”

Marco loads them under the cart for you, then takes the handle with a smirk. “Woah, this is super bottom-heavy now. Gonna need to counterbalance with something.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Counterbalance?”

Marco chuckles. “Just get in the cart. You know you want to.”

“Ride in the cart? What am I, five?” You scoff, fully pretending that you don’t want to take him up on the offer.

“If we’re going to find Jean before Ymir destroys the pharmacy out of boredom, we gotta pick up the pace.”

You poke him in the chest. “Sir, you are being especially wild tonight.”

“Must be the fluorescents.”

Marco holds the cart steady while you flop inside the main basket. It’s a tight squeeze, but when you dangle your feet out of the front, it’s almost comfortable. Once you’re situated, Marco pushes you down a few more aisles while you point out the snacks you want, and he piles them on top of you. 

Armed with fruit snacks, cheese crackers, and a bottle of pre-made margaritas to make Ymir buy for you, Marco zips down the dessert aisle and grabs three boxes of Little Debbies. ”Guilty pleasure” he says with a bashful shrug. “I swear I’m not going to eat them all in one sitting.”

“I didn’t assume so, but hey, no judgment here.” You shrug, motioning at the mountain of snacks in your lap. You’re not terribly concerned with eating clean and healthy every day this summer, especially not when you’re sweating buckets and trudging up and down the hill all day anyway.

Marco laughs. “Maybe when I was sixteen and super active. But now I think that would end me.”

“Oh?” You can’t help it—you’re insanely curious. “Were you a jock in high school?”

Marco rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not sure I’d say that, but I played hockey for a long time.”

While you’d spent many afternoons daydreaming about him in football pads or tight baseball pants, something about the thought of Marco in a hockey uniform just makes sense. “Oh wow, hockey’s a big deal where you’re from, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, in Minnesota, it’s super popular. A lot of kids start playing pretty young.”

“Do you still play? I’ll admit, I don’t really know anything about hockey but I think it looks pretty cool.”

“I play on the university’s club team during the school year. We travel and play against other schools, but we’re a step below the official team. It’s fun, but none of us are going pro, you know?” Marco’s cheeks turn a strawberry pink, his eyes falling to the shelves of cereal boxes beside him. “Maybe you can come to a game sometime.”

“I absolutely will. I want to see you body check someone.” You’re giddy just thinking about it.

That makes Marco laugh. “Maybe if you’re lucky.”

You round the corner of the next aisle and finally find Jean with a tub of pretzels under one arm and a case of Red Bull under the other. He notices you laughing and riding in the cart, and he gives you a look.

“Um. Where am I supposed to put these?”

“Here, fine, but you have to help me get out.”

“Don’t crush my zebra cakes!” Marco pleads.

Jean puts down his snacks and pulls you up out of the basket while Marco holds onto the cart, making sure you don’t get dumped out on the floor. Once Jean’s stuff takes your place, the three of you head for the pharmacy.

You find Ymir in personal care, waiting with the cart while Historia picks out hair products. Their basket is full of sheet masks, candy, a fleece blanket, and four of those sandwich irons Ymir wanted. When you pull up next to her, she invites herself to poke around in your cart.

“Are you feeding an army?”

“No, just stocking up.” Shooing her hands away, you slide the booze into her cart. “A gift from you to me.”

“Wow, ok. How presumptuous.” She fakes a scoff, but you know she doesn’t mind or care.

“Oh. I thought you wanted me to get that for you,” Marco says. “I guess it doesn’t matter who buys it but—”

You don’t really intend to cut him off, but you’re surprised. “I didn’t think you were 21.”

“I wasn’t… until last week.”

“Marco!” You can’t stop yourself. It just comes out.

“What?”

“Was it your birthday last week?”

Marco looks nervous. Almost frightened.

“Yeah.”

You push the cart out of the way to get closer. “Your twenty-first birthday?”

“Yeah?”

“And you didn’t tell us?” You’re yelling. You’re in the middle of a practically deserted Wal-Mart Superstore at 11 o’clock at night, and you’re yelling.

“Oh my god, yes,” Marco laughs, incredulous. “I didn’t want anybody to make a big deal about it. Now please calm down before you get carded and we all get in trouble.” He’s right, you’re causing a scene, and it makes your own cheeks burn. You don’t intend to forget about this, though.

“Well shit,” Ymir quips. She reaches for the margarita bottle and shoves it into Marco’s hands. “Then you can buy the lady her liquor.”

“Yes ma’am.” Marco puts the bottle back in your cart.

Ymir pretends to gag. “Do not call me that.”

“Hey, kids!” Hitch sails by into the next aisle, waving, Reiner hurriedly following her with their nearly full cart. You all follow, rounding the corner before you realize you’re congregating in front of the contraception. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’re adults, after all—but it’s not easy to be totally mature looking at a wall of condoms, especially with this group.

Hitch picks out a box of ultra thins, remarking, “For me,” as if you all really needed to know. Then she reaches for a box of magnums. Just as soon as you start to raise an eyebrow, she declares, “And for Bertie.”

“He wanted you to buy him condoms?” Reiner asks, sounding genuinely dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Marco looks pointedly at the tampons on the opposite side of the aisle, and Jean snickers like a complete dork.

“No,” Hitch smirks. “But he told me Annie is visiting next week. Gotta make sure he’s prepared.”

Ymir scoffs. “Fucking gross that they package those in gold like your jumbo dong is some sort of prize.” Then she reaches up to one of the higher shelves, asking nonchalantly, “Hey, baby, do you want warming lube this time? I think we’re almost out.”

It’s the kind of deeply intimate detail she normally has no problem sharing, but almost as soon as she says it, she freezes.

Reiner loudly clears his throat. “Who are you talking to?”

Nobody moves.

“Um.” Ymir rocks on her heels. Her eyes jump from person to person, searching. “Uh, Jean—”

Jean snorts. “Not even—”

“Ew. You’re right, that’s disgusting.”

“She was talking to me, Reiner,” Historia explains calmly. “Ymir is my girlfriend.”

Reiner barks out a laugh, but it fades quickly. He seems to realize she’s not joking just as Hitch and Jean fall apart, giggling. You have half a mind to abandon all your snacks and go hide in the van, you’re so secondhand embarrassed. You should never have gone along with this. 

Ymir crosses her arms proudly and leans against Historia’s side, though you’re not really sure if Ymir is winning or losing her own game anymore.

Hitch, pulling herself together, pats Reiner on the back. “Let’s go check out so we can get out of here.”

Fixing his own face, Reiner stammers, “Yeah. We should… yeah.” Almost tenderly, Hitch puts a hand on the front of their shopping cart, steering Reiner toward the registers as he follows behind.

Historia’s hands drop to her hips, and she gives Ymir a look. “Are you happy now?”

Ymir shrugs. “Pretty much.” Huffing, Historia takes off with their cart.

“Meet you at the front, baby girl,” Ymir calls.

Marco, his face beet red, reaches for your cart, but Ymir blocks one of the front wheels with her foot.

“Hold on, birthday boy.” She grabs a basic box of condoms and pushes it into Marco’s hands. His fingers don’t close around it—he drops it on the floor like it’s on fire.

Ymir snatches the box and shoves it back at him. “You’re gonna need these, trust me,” she snorts, and that familiar, overwhelming urge to smother her washes over you.

Marco, cheeks burning, flaps his lips a few times, but no words come out. Slowly, like he’s thinking hard, he puts the box back on the shelf.

You look away, your stomach dropping. You get that he’s embarrassed—Ymir is crossing a lot of lines—and it’s not like you didn’t pack a box of condoms in your suitcase, so you’ll have some if you need them. But now, you just want to get out of here because if you let yourself think about it for one more second, it’ll hit you all at once that Marco is just a really nice person who was never actually flirting with you and doesn’t like you back. 

You allow yourself one last glance over your shoulder to see if Marco is coming with your cart before you go lay in the road and wait for traffic.

Your breath catches when you see him drop a black and gold box, identical to the one Hitch picked out for Bert, into the cart.

Screaming in your head, you power walk past the checkout. Marco will have to pay for everything because there’s alcohol in the cart, so you wait by the exit like an idiot while trying to act casual, but really, how can you? You’ve only thought about Marco’s dick print a few hundred times, and those condoms practically confirm that he’s really and truly packing. And you want it. You want him so bad—

“Ready?” You blink and Marco is there, everything bagged up and ready to go.

Ymir walks by behind him, silently mouthing, “Jumbo,” and you don’t know whether to thank her or kill her where she stands. You hope neither registers on your face.

In the parking lot, you help Marco load the bags into the van. Now you’re the immature one, wondering which bag the condoms are in, whether they’re touching your Gatorades. You hope to god he bagged them with his damn zebra cakes so you don’t have to negotiate some kind of awkward, presumptuous handoff. He’s definitely smart enough for that. Of course he is.

When you buckle in for the ride home, it’s quiet in the van. Only Hitch talks over her shoulder to Historia about the big game of flashlight tag that Moblit and Hange have organized for tomorrow night. Ymir yawns heavily, and you’re pretty sure Jean already nodded off with his head against the window.

Reiner is silent in the passenger’s seat—if he’s not back to himself by tomorrow, you’re rounding everyone up to apologize. It was mean, what Ymir did to him, and you’re all pretty complicit. But sometimes Reiner bounces back from his moods miraculously, and sometimes he doesn’t. You’ll just have to wait and see what you’re dealing with in the morning.

The John Denver tape plays softly from the speakers. Beside you, Marco hums along, his long legs crammed in behind Ymir’s seat. Just as the silence is about to cross from uncomfortable to unbearable, Marco slowly but deliberately reaches out, lightly covering your hand from where it rests on your knee.

You curl into his side, and he starts to sing a little louder, just enough so that you can hear.

“Welcome to my evening, the closing of the day. I could try a million times, never find a better way.”

Before the drive earlier, you’d never heard this song. Now, upwards of six repeats in, you know at least some of the words—enough to mumble along a little with him. The chorus is familiar by now, an easy refrain of la la las that everyone who’s still awake can jump into.

Even if it’s a little awkward, at least you’re all either singing or snoring.

It wasn’t long ago that Marco told you that he felt safe with you. With your head on his shoulder and your hand wrapped in his, you’re sure you feel the same about him.

-

Before your first alarm goes off the next morning, you wake to the hushed sounds of Historia chasing Ymir out of bed. You can’t make out any clear words, just whispering and grumbling, but after a minute or two, the bed creaks. You roll over and crack an eye open just in time to see Ymir pull on her shoes and slip out the door.

You try to snooze a few more minutes before your alarm goes off, but it’s fruitless. Everyone is starting to rustle themselves awake, so you figure you might as well just get up and shower. Quietly, you gather your things and head out.

You pass the lodge on the way to the showers, where you spot Ymir on the upper balcony, sharing a porch swing with Reiner. They rock slowly, overlooking the hill that leads down to the lake. Good. As stubborn as Ymir is, you’re almost positive she’s up there apologizing. You hope he’s not taking everything too hard. Sometimes his feelings can be too big for him.

You leave them be and take a slightly longer shower than usual, your mind drifting back to Marco and the way he held your hand. You make sure to really take your time conditioning your hair and scrubbing down with your scented body wash. It’s silly, but you feel like you’re right on the precipice of something with him, and you want to look as nice as possible for it. As if it’ll last in this humidity. 

It’s a quiet morning when you return to the cabin to get dressed. Mikasa is already gone to do the wake-up calls (with Eren, because he can’t be trusted to get up on his own, let alone rouse everyone else). You expect a subdued breakfast. Maybe everyone who was at the store last night does.

Marco meets you at the front of the mess hall holding two styrofoam coffee cups. You’re getting used to the sight, but as you sit down next to him at the table, you see Jean already has his first cup. Marco hands his second cup to you.

“Oh, thank you. Does it–”

“Two sugars,” he says, and your heart squeezes. You try not to take it as a marriage proposal.

Glancing around, you don’t see the one person you were worried about. “Does anyone know where–” you’re about to ask, but you’re interrupted by a shockingly loud voice at the other end of the room.

You’re used to Erwin’s startling morning announcements. What you’re not ready for is Reiner standing at the fireplace next to him, smiling with all his teeth, shouting, “Good morning!” to the campers instead.

The campers look up, and Reiner doesn’t even have to give instructions. He simply points to the left side of the room, takes a big breath, and starts singing the first part of Down by the Bay, off-key but with heaps of enthusiasm. Erwin, pointing to his side of the room, comes in quickly with the echo, and the campers erupt. They’ve been working on the song in Nifa’s music lessons since the first week of camp, and they’re thrilled to sing it as a giant group.

You lean your chair back on two legs to ask Ymir, “What did you say to him?”

She simply shrugs over the bowl of cereal she’s already poured herself. “Don’t look at me. You know what he’s like at the asscrack of dawn. I didn’t say anything.”

“Liar,” you tease. She sticks her tongue out at you.

For all intents and purposes, Reiner does seem fine. But you saw the look on his face the night before. You can’t help but worry he’s just putting on a mask. 

You could send in a professional to get all the details from Reiner. Unfortunately, Hitch is posted up next to Erwin with a thermos of coffee, so she’s not going anywhere for the foreseeable.

Instead, you scurry up to Reiner yourself after breakfast and steer him out into the parking lot. “Hey. Are you ok?”

Reiner chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “What do you mean? I’m great.”

When you give him a look, he sighs. “All right, listen. Yeah, I was kind of messed up last night. But I thought about it, and I talked to Ymir this morning. The whole thing was partially my fault anyway.”

“Huh?”

“Deep down, I always knew the two of them had something going on. I didn’t know they were actually dating, but I ignored the obvious signs on purpose. I think I was just trying to distract myself from…” 

He kicks the dirt, eyes cast down. “You know what you said about those snaps Galliard was sending me?”

 “I remember.” You’re careful to answer evenly, as excited as you are about where you think this is leading. You don’t want to freak him out.

“Well, I sent some back. And it turned into a whole thing. Because I think I like it.” Reiner hesitates between every sentence. “But instead of thinking about how that made me feel, I wanted to flirt with someone else. A girl. Because I don’t have to think as much about that.”

You give his shoulder a squeeze. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But you know, if you want to flirt with boys too, you can.”

Reiner clears his throat. “Is that… ok?” He asks so earnestly, it almost breaks your heart. He’s not asking if it bothers you; he’s asking for reassurance. For someone to give him permission.

“Yes. And if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me. Or Ymir. Or Jean, or anyone. Nobody is going to be mad at you. I’m pretty sure Porco would be thrilled, actually.”

Before you can take another breath, Reiner wraps you in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you wheeze. “But you’re kind of crushing me.”

Reiner lets go, laughing. You both know you need to get moving to your next activity block. Reiner skips a few paces ahead, turning backwards to face you. “Gotta go. I have a wiffle ball game to win.”

“Go get ‘em!” Yeah. He’s going to be ok.

-

When the late June sun sets over the hill, you meet Hange and Moblit at the back door of the lodge. After making sure all the campers have a working flashlight (thanks to Hange’s messenger bag full of spare batteries), Moblit lays out the rules, and they’re all off into the dark to chase each other around.

It’s your job to hang around the perimeter of camp and make sure none of the campers go out-of-bounds into the woods or by the lake. With your own flashlight pointed down at the ground, you walk the path just past the tree line. When you hear a rustle in the leaves, you flick your light up, ready to point some little feet back toward the lodge.

Instead, you find a certain tall, broad, and dorky counselor stumbling out of the trees, the leg of his jeans caught in a prickly bush.

“Please help,” Marco chuckles.

While he points his flashlight at his ankle, you crouch down and shake his pant leg free.

“Thank you.” You can just make out his outline in the dark, shaded by the trees, but you can hear in his voice how hard he’s smiling.

“Any time.” You realize how close you’re standing, how much electricity hangs between you as you laugh awkwardly. You’ve never felt this alone with him before. You want something. Anything.

You lean a little closer, and he lingers, not pulling away. A hot wave of breathlessness washes over you, and you rise onto your toes, one hand ghosting over the back of his neck.

“Marco,” you whisper.

His flashlight hits the ground. Both of his big hands rest on the small of your back, and he pulls you in, capturing your bottom lip with his mouth, urgent but soft. You can’t help yourself. You throw both arms over his shoulders and squeeze, pressing your body against his, so close you can feel the pounding in his chest.

He gasps before deepening the kiss, letting your tongue slip past his lips. There’s nothing to say as you hold on a little too desperately, wrapped up in each other in the dark.

When you finally break apart, Marco is trembling. “I really, really like you.”

“I really, really hoped so.” You press one more light kiss against the hint of his collarbone that peeks out over the collar of his t-shirt.

Peals of laughter and flashlight beams from a few meters away startle you, and you hop back as a few campers chase after each other on the other side of the trees.

Marco retrieves his flashlight, and you wish you could see how hard he’s blushing. Instead, you give his hand a little tug. He laces his fingers between yours and gives a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” you tease. “We should pay attention.” You have the rest of the summer to figure this out. Right now, you have a job to do.

➷➷➷➷➷

last || m.list || next

[thedivineflowers]

I hc that Savannaclaw have like either a cat or a dog or some animal that they take care of that is energetic

Pomefiore has a Persian cat and as annoying as it is they all adore the thing to bits and they always have a lint roller somewhere. Or birdies maybe

Heartslaybul have their hedgehogs and flamingos that they use for croquet

Scarabia prolly has a dog like a random dog they found outside campus that is so random. Like it's full on energy and if you look at it too long it will start running away from you. Maybe a beetle to mess with jamil but he is staying away from it 🧑‍🦯

Octanvile obviously have their little sea friends that they keep in their tank and occasionally wave to ( I know full on well that some students will interact with them. I. Know.)

Ignihyde probably has a cat too a British shorthair for example that they let roam around and wander into people's rooms with little passageways made just for them. It prolly likes Idia a lot with all the treats he gives them. Or a turtle 🤸

Diasomnia prolly has a snake. Idk I just imagine them with a long ass snake just vibing. They probably also have pet rats that didn't get eaten by the snake :)

And Middle schooler mc adores them so much

Like they'd be fascinated with all the animals and being able to see them up close maybe they wouldn't want to touch it at first because they don't want to get bitten but they start warming up to them and will stop by every dorm daily to feed the animals and hang out with it

You feed them bitches

The heartslaybul group found you playing with the hedgehogs and trying to keep them all in your arms without dropping them. Cater took many pictures of you while Trey brought out treats and their food to give them ace and Deuce joined you in playing with the hedgehogs while Riddle drank tea with you

The savannaclaw trio found you laying with your feet in the pool with their animal next to you laying down CALM. They were shooketh and expected to see you running around with the animal but no. Your just sitting there with your new friend. Ruggie and Jack joined to dip their feet in the pool as Leona pulled up a chair near you to relax with y'all

The fish mafia saw you laying down near the fishtank just looking at the different sea creatures they had and counted the many friends that stopped to look at you then went back to swimming away. Floyd picked you up and took you to the top of the fish tank so you can touch the shark and stingrays. Jade made sure that you didn't fall in and gave you some facts about almost every animal and Azul went to grab the food so you could feed them to your delight. The stingrays splashed and scared you many times with how they vacuumed up their food. (That shit is fucking scary 😨) (you get splashed with water many times)

The two Scarabia students saw you and the dog messing around on the pillows as it tried eating your hair and pulling at it while you were trying to get away from it. Kalim started tickling you and Jamil got some drinks and treats to show you the tricks it's been taught.

The mean girls of Pomefiore saw you sitting on Vils peacock looking chair pampering the cat as it kneaded biscuits on your leg. Vil started pampering you as Epel handed you a juice box and showed you what he has carved recently and Rook gave you some treats to give the cat when you feel like it.

Ortho and Idia saw you walking around ignihyde with the cat following you. Ortho leads you to Idias room to relax and just talk about your day while Idia gives you some pomegranate flavored treats for the cat to eat and some pomegranate flavored chocolate for you to eat.

The diasomnia group found you at the table playing with a rat that was failed to be eaten and the snake coiling around your body. Malleus sat with you and played with the snake as you conversed with him as Lilia fed the rat some food and gave you some sunflower seeds to eat . Silver almost dozed off if it weren't for the rat fucking slapping him with it's small ass hands and Sebek poured tea for you all and helped with homework you had (Sebek has a soft spot for middle schooler mc and doesn't really yell around them. you can't say shit about it)

Bro I'm about to clock out for the night peace 😘🤸

[allwormdiet]

Gestation 1.6

Took like an hour and a half nap after work, hell. Time for the good guys to make an appearance

Yeah I'll fucking bet she's exhausted. Girl's out in the middle of the night and coming down from a near-death experience where she mauled people with insect swarms and got cornered on a roof by, what, the strongest cape in the city? It's incredible she has enough space left to even think.

Here we get more lore on the big dogs I was thinking about previously, and of course the local big dog himself. I wonder if he would be galled at Taylor's narration describing him as one of the wing members in the V formation, feel like a lot of capes would have an ego thing

Thank you Armsmaster, now I get to holler about my stance on polearms. Polearm are the best melee weapon in most scenarios, simple as anything. Tight quarters and CQB, sure, not so much, but that's what sidearms are for. Swords, axes, hammers, whatever, that's for people trying to be cool. Polearms are for people trying to fucking win. I dunno if Armsmaster is good people but he has reasonable taste in primary arms so that's points in his favor.

On the one hand, poor Taylor, she's gonna be dealing with that first impression for a long time, but on the other hand lol and also lmao. I told you that costume design was gonna come back around as being too scary.

Armsmaster underwear is like, so distracting as a concept, actually. Honestly any underwear that's got real people on it. What a fucking weird product to sell, like I get Spider-Man undies but Spider-Man isn't real, y'know? Does Taylor get underwear made about her down the line? Does owning Taylor's merch after a certain point in the timeline get you weird looks?

This kind of thing must be such a pain in the ass, I've mucked around with my own original superhero setting and names were such a fucking dilemma with so many characters. Having to deal with that but like, as your own self? You're the super? And you gotta worry if taking a name is gonna get you sued or assassinated by someone who already has that name? Fuck that noise.

Couple things here, take it one at a time.

This is legitimately a huge moment of vulnerability for Taylor. She can't tell anyone about the night she's had, there's nobody in her life that she can trust with this massive weight on her entire soul. She almost died, and she knows how it would've happened, and she knows that it wasn't even her own play that saved her life in that final moment of the confrontation. A sympathetic moment from someone else who's lived this life and faced this danger could be such a balm for her right now.

So obviously what Armsmaster does is softball a recruitment pitch. "That's rough buddy" would have actually been way more tactful at this point, for real. I don't know if this is who Armsmaster is as a person or if this is the kind of party line you're supposed to hold as a Protectorate member, nudging scared teenaged capes into the Wards so they stop running around unsupervised, but either way it's such a bad read.

And then yeah, of course Taylor doesn't want to be a Ward, it's just being a high schooler but even worse because now the other hormone-addled teenagers you're locked in with have trauma and superpowers. Not only no, not only hell no, but fuck no. Especially knowing about Shadow Stalker, like Christ.

These two lines are a minor detail in the grand scheme of things, but girl you almost died, nobody in their right minds would blame you for being in a bit of a mood

God the Undersiders are so cool. Like yeah they're criminals but they're criminals with an underdog flair. Good on them for managing to come out on top when they're outgunned, I know that like Bitch is basically the only one with an offensive power so the fact that they've won fights is impressive as hell.

The vulnerabilities that get shown by these characters feel so critical. Taylor, the Undersiders, and Armsmaster all show their underbellies over the last two chapters in conversation, admitting to fears and failures. Like even setting aside the masks and the bravado, that's the real stuff.

Also that costume thing is gonna haunt Taylor for at least as long as she has it, and maybe longer.

In a fight, righ*gunshots*

Jokes aside, good on Taylor for understanding some of her limits. Enough to realize antagonizing the Undersiders was a bad call (although that's assuming she would even think to do so with how shaken she'd been in the immediate aftermath of the fight with Lung), but she still went and picked a fight with fucking Lung so partial credit.

Beyond that, didn't expect the "flip the negative" trick to come back up from Armsmaster of all characters. Might have expected it from Taylor's dad maybe, I dunno. And of course Taylor immediately envies his ability to do that better than she can, because that's just kinda where she's at.

Taylor finally gets praise from a hero for doing hero shit, and of course there's strings attached. Fucked up. Let's see where this goes.

Don't know why I thought the ABB were restricted to operating in the Bay, but I guess it makes sense that they have connections and operations outside.

Anyway, this and everything we learn about Bakuda being a bomb Tinker makes me think that someone at the Protectorate isn't doing their fucking job. I think if there's someone in your city whose specialty is fucking super bombs, you maybe put out like some public service announcements? TV, radio, fucking posters up on a wall? "If you see this woman fucking leg it and call the cops" kinda stuff, what are we doing where a Brockton native doesn't know there's a bomber in the city.

Armsmaster rolls up to the aftermath of a cape fight to find an unconscious Lung and a shivering, exhausted teenaged hero who almost died taking down one of the beefiest villains in the whole town, and he has the nerve to ask "are you gonna finish that?"

Joking aside, this sucks. And I get it, and Taylor gets it too obviously, and I'm certain that Armsmaster is legitimately concerned about an indie hero getting blown to fucking pieces by a vengeful ABB, but Armsmaster getting credit is at least partly a factor. Maybe 60% concern 40% opportunism, I dunno, it's hard to gauge just meeting the guy.

...Actually knowing that he's angling for the credit on Lung I'm more willing to bet that "in the wings of the V formation" line earlier would have gotten under his skin.

Taylor is walking away from tonight with favors owed from a minor villain team and the Protectorate's local honcho. All it took was throwing down with the leader of a major gang and staring death in the burning metal face. Good job, kid, now go fucking sleep.

Current Thoughts

It strikes me as very deliberate that Taylor's first non-hostile interaction with villains and heroes are back to back with notable contrast. The Undersiders, who know full well that Lung wants to kill them all, find out that some random cape decided to take the fight to Lung for them and immediately jump in for the assist, expressing their gratitude as they go. Armsmaster rolls up after the dust has already settled and congratulates Taylor for a job well done, saying he owes her a favor even, but only after securing the credit for himself in the doing, and being just that much less delicate with an obviously shaken rookie.

This isn't to say "villains good heroes bad" because I don't think that's true, I'm absolutely certain the Undersiders have hurt people and will hurt more people down the road, and Armsmaster is operating within what I guess is a pretty inflexible organization. This isn't The Boys, where every alleged hero is a huge piece of shit and all their good will is propaganda consumed by mindless sheeple (I haven't actually watched The Boys but I don't enjoy the vibes and am not really in a rush to see it for myself). Capes are people here, warts and all, and sometimes the career criminals are easier to get along with than the career law enforcement officer.

Was kinda shocked this little arc is already over, but I guess it's interlude time. Get a glimpse into the head of someone who isn't Taylor.

[thesuperiorgenshinaddict]

Can I ask for an Emily x reader from class of 09?

Emily x GN! Reader

AN: yo w i fuckin love emily. literally the goat. tbh i highly doubt emily would date anyone who's not actually at least mildly insane so i'm gonna make reader kinda fucked up yk :thumbsup: Pairing: Emily x GN! Reader Warnings: Drug use, Codependence, Unhealthy relationships, Violence, idk just expect similar shit to the stuff in class of '09

HCs:

The two of you met when you were trying to find a plug to hook you up with some Addy's. It was pretty fucking surprising that you hadn't gotten your hands on some already, but that was mainly because you didn't want to die on the side of the road after downing some fake laced shit.

Emily was apparently a solid dealer. Sold for decent prices and gave discounts to people she liked more and it was pretty easy to ask her. You literally just walked up to her locker with a wad of cash and she tossed you a half-empty pill bottle and talked with you for a hot minute.

Somehow, you managed to win her over by bitching about Ms. Ames once and the two of you spent a shit ton of time together. Like, a LOT of time. Skipping classes together, going to the mall and selling crack, even sleepovers (that had way too much tension to be considered platonic).

After she stopped taking her anti-psychotics, she went full on batshit. All the shit about Emily being actually insane that all the bitchy kids were talking about? Fuck, they weren't lying. Emily was defending you with her fucking life. Fucking Jeffrey called you the lamest insult known to man and she practically jumped that fuckass.

Even though you guys were literally saying 'I love you' to each other like, 9 times a day, she was just your friend. Supposedly anyway.

Honestly, you highkey started thinking that you'd be 'just friends' forever until her gang boyfriend got his old ass hands on a huge fucking package of crack. You told her to sell it because some dumbass middle schooler would probably pay their life savings for half a gram, but of course, she doesn't listen.

Normally this shit would be mild as fuck but her parents were acting up and being bitchy whiny fucks so Emily had the genius idea of snorting a concoction of whatever mystery substances she had on hand and like half the entire supply of coke.

She was fucking blasted as fuck and she had the dead fish eye shit going on when she just started being weirdly clingy and she gave a violent but oddly heartfelt confession. It was like highkey concerning because of the sheer number of threats she not so subtly inserted in but it was endearing in its own twisted way.

Her words were slurred and the entirety of the little speech she gave could be summarized as the same shit she told Nicole in that one route but more sociopathic sounding???

Anyway boom I'm gonna put HC's on what it's like dating her now.

She probably wouldn't bother telling anyone that you two are dating, but it's so obvious. Like, everyone knows.

If someone says one thing that can be taken as offensive in the slightest to you, Emily will fucking pounce on the asshole and curb stomp them. She'd act all nonchalant about it afterwards.

Since a ton of the other people in the school have beef with her, if you defend her and slander the shit out of them, she'll be super happy about it.

Free drugs. She's not worried about OD'ing at all and takes smoke breaks with you all the time when skipping.

You guys have sleepovers like, everyday. Not even an exaggeration at this point. If your parents or her parents try to tell her no, she curses them out. If they're being particularly bold, she goes through with the slashing tires shit and is on the verge of actually beating the shit out of them.

If you ever get her a gift that she actually likes, she's going to constantly flex it. Get her a nice necklace or something and she'll literally never take it off.

Choose your words carefully. She's going to get pissed as fuck if you say one thing that she considers harsh. Drabble time woohoo "...Fuck, this is totally laced." Emily groaned, leaning her face onto her palm. She ran her free hand through her hair. Diverting her gaze from blankly staring at the table, she stared at you and raised an eyebrow. She opened and closed her mouth as if she lost her train of thought before giggling and leaning closer to you. "I love you. Like, I love love you. I'd kill anyone who even dares to be a bitch to you. I'd kill myself if you asked me to." She nonchalantly says. Batting her eyes, Emily firmly tugs you closer to her. She coyly twirls her hair around her finger while pursing her lips — and she's like 2 centimeters away from violently making out with you. What do her lips taste like? Xanax probably. Fuck, she's actually so pretty. "You're not gonna say it back?" She pouts. She's clearly high off her ass right now. At this distance, you notice the little minute details, like how she painted her nails today and how her mascara's just slightly fucked up. With a hesitant 'I love you too', she digs her nails into your shoulders and pulls you in for a kiss. She's acting almost rabid and she desperately wraps her arms around your torso and breathes into your lips. Slipping her tongue in, she pushes you onto the couch and pins your shoulders down. After what feels like a long ass time, she parts the kiss and takes heavy breaths while staring down at you. "Can I stay the night at your place?" AN: lmfao sorry that took a lil while my internet was freaking the fuck out. anyway this was fun as fuck thank youuuu :3

[ii-neg-confessions]

Your expectations are WAY too high for a youtube show. This is an animated series on youtube that started 13 years ago and was made when the creators were in middle school. Which means that jokes that are offensive are most likely gonna be in the early episodes, since it was made by MIDDLE SCHOOLERS who most likely don't know any better, or don't understand how offensive their jokes are. You have the right to criticize this show, but lower your standards if your gonna make a blog dedicated to bitching about a youtube object show.

it's not really what they did 13 years ago, it's what they're doing NOW.

"they have shown they've changed" NO.

deleting scenes out of nowhere and sweeping all the work under the rug without a proper explanation is NOT changing

using cheap virtue signaling in plot points in your show to save your ass is NOT changing

also many of the problematic aspects still linger despite the thousands of people pressuring them into holding themselves accountable.

and they didn't.

For a show that tries to present itself NOW, in 2024, as a show with "higher standards" and with disney-style marketing techniques (ew), private screenings, meetups and merch, Inanimate Insanity should expect people with higher standards. So, dear little posie cockroach, it's not us who should "lower our standards", but THEM. because clearly they are so with their heads up their asses they don't realize that MAYBE if they humbled down, quit the corporate bs and HOLD. THEMSELVES. ACCOUNTABLE., maybe they could get more respect.

the only way we can have some sort of accountability is expose their BS and maybe call for a boycott.

[shveris]

satosugu, crack oneshot, based on this official art (their asses are not working)

satorou really, really, hates his job. absolutely hates it.

but for all the wrong reasons.

warnings: drinking, cigarettes, satosugu’s frontal lobe is on vacation

“how can someone be so dense?!” the brunette clickes her tongue softly before chugging down the rest of her beer. everything about this is horribly entertaining but also incredibly frustrating.

“you know, satorou, you could just tell him you have the fattest crush of mankind on him”, she suggests (for the nth time) and the man next to her continues whining into the counter his head is currently resting on.

“bitch i did! like, three fucking times already! he always responds with ‘and i will crush your head if you don’t bla bla bla’”, he complains, waving his right hand around in the air to make his point.

shoko did not sign up for this.

“you think an intervention would help?”, she ponders, half serious, half joking, and it has her friend snort loudly. he turns his head to look at her, brows raised: “intervention for what exactly, to drop his obliviousness? he was born with that i fear, good luck.”

“nah, he needs to stop being in denial”, shoko rolls her eyes and immediately regrets it as she feels the 6 pints of beer kicking in (finally), “he looks at you as if you were the world, man, sickening to watch.” satorou giggles like a middle schooler.

“either way, you better hurry the fuck up with this, i don’t wanna be losing my money because you two morons can’t get your shit together.” shoko presses her lips to a thin line, thinking about the fifty bucks she had bid on her two friends, and hakari’s shit eating grin.

“i still can’t believe everyone of y’all made a fucking bet out of us, such bad friends and coworkers, i’ll complain to HR tomorrow!” the brunette can only snort and fishes for the pack of malboro in her pocket.

“complain about what?” satorou falls off his chair — and gets caught because of fucking course he gets caught, man’s a damn princess, shoko thinks — upon hearing the voice behind him. ocean eyes wide in shock when he whips his head around: “suguru! don’t sneak up on us like that!” he lets himself get manhandled back onto the barstool.

“and your balance sucks.” the raven keeps one of his arms wrapped around satorou and holds his free hand out to their girl bestie, asking for a cigarette. she stares both of them up and down, eyes lingering on suguru gripping satorou’s waist, and shoves a cigarette into his hands, muttering a curse.

“nah, nah, my balance’s perfectly fine”, the white haired claims, pressing himself closer to suguru’s chest, “i could show you!” the ravenette looks at him with amusement written all over his face: “and how exactly do you plan to ‘show me’?”

“well, for starters, i’m great at walking perfectly straight on the stones of a sidewalk! not that i’m straight but you get the point. and then, also, i think i could keep my balance very well after bouncing on your dick for hours!”

shoko wants to go home. she can feel the lesbian inside her leave. she should start being homophobic or something. change of careers.

“you don’t have the stamina to bounce on my dick for hours, ‘toru”, suguru rolls his eyes, takes a hit from his cigarette, as if he’s talking about the damn weather. shoko meets satorou’s eyes and she can see a vein pop on his forehead: “you see this shit, shoko?!”

“dear lord, yes i do, and i wish i weren’t”, she mumbles. the bet has been going for over a month already, she really didn’t think it’s this bad. maybe she should do something? but, nah, that’d be against the rules of the bet, she’s pretty sure sukuna would beat her up for cheating.

“so, back to that ‘reporting things to HR’ stuff, what was that about?”, suguru asks and the brunette is very tempted to spill the beans — but, again, that’d be against those goofy rules so she keeps her mouth shut, looking at satorou because that man is a born actor.

“eh, someone took a shit in the employees restroom today and didn’t flush”, satorou waves his hand up and down, again, and shoko will always be impressed by how good of a liar he is.

“sounds like toji”, suguru thinks, “that man has issues, dude, how he hasn’t been charged for assault yet is one of the seven world wonders.” satorou only nods in agreement and shoko orders another beer.

“not sure how you made a correlation between ‘not flushing the toilet’ and ‘felony’ but okay.” satorou barks with a singular ‘hah!’ and shuts up when suguru pinches his waist.

“no, you know what, actually- this makes a lot of sense-“, shoko has her eyes on the raven again, “something’s wrong in your frontal lobe, logical thinking seems to not be working for you properly.” suguru only feels half insulted because he has no idea what a frontal lobe is but he does get the implication of shoko telling him he’s stupid.

“fuck’s that supposed to mean”, he still asks, with playful anger lacing his words. there is a tinge of curiosity nagging his mind, whispering to him that he missed out on something. shoko is definitely hinting towards some underlying issues there.

“eh, figure it out for yourselves”, she dismisses his question and takes a sip of her beer, the bitterness of it tasting sweet in contrast to the cigarettes she’s been inhaling. suguru has his eyes averted and hums a “uh-huh” with his lips around the filter before he shifts his attention to the white-haired once again.

“suguru, can we go to this new pastry shop after our shift? they have new items on their menu!” the raven smiles fondly upon seeing the excitement in satorou’s whole body language and he finds himself agreeing — not that he is ever able to say “no” to him anyway.

“we could also pick out some flowers, i have a picknick planned for us on thursday night”, suguru puffs out the cigarette smoke and undoes the buttons of his uniform coat to get some air. he misses the confused looks the other two are giving him and tries not to cry when the smoke catches in his eyes. why does it always have to sting this bad?

“picknick? how come?”, satorou eventually asks, curiosity and suspicion walking hand in hand inside his mind. he watches as the ravenette lifts his head and takes the half-finished cancer stick between his index and middle finger: “for our anniversary? who’s head are you in right now, satorou.”

gojo satorou’s soul left his body.

his chin is on the floor — never mind that, he is floored. absolutely floored.

shoko almost chokes on the mouthful of alcohol and is convinced she just imagined hearing that, telling herself she is just drunk and wants to be out of her misery (she wants her money). but then she takes another look at suguru and is sure this is, as a matter of fact, reality and very much the present. she tries to close her mouth but it’s not working in her favour: “what. the fuck.”

suguru looks at them as if they’d just insulted his whole bloodline, mild irritation and annoyance making the crease between his eyebrows deep like canyons.

“what do you mean ‘what the fuck’?”, he asks and satorou doesn’t even hear him because he’s more than chin-deep inside his own brain, too fuzzy and it feels like his body is vibrating — he doesn’t know his mouth is still very much wide open and suguru wants nothing more than to shove his dick inside.

since shoko is generally faster in gathering herself so she quickly tries to make sense of the raven’s words: “what do you mean ‘what do you mean’?”

truly the conversation of geniuses.

shoko is pretty sure satorou short-circuited, the man having his chin so deep down in hell as if he is trying to catch flies with his mouth, and suguru has never looked more confused. if her fifty bucks weren’t involved, shoko would’ve taken a picture and made it her new home screen background.

she absentmindedly lights another cigarette and pinches the bridge of her nose. if this really is what she is thinking — nothing in the world could’ve prepared her for this. how does a man like suguru even live. never mind that, how does a man like satorou made it this far in life?

“let’s take a few steps back”, she finally says and nudges the side of satorou’s chin with her free hand (he slowly picks it up from the floor), “you said anniversary. what anniversary?” suguru looks at her as if she just grew a second head: “‘toru’s and my anniversary? we’ve been dating for a year now, hello?”

shoko hates how right she was with her suspicions but she’s also very, very, happy about getting money.

“we’ve been dating?! for a year?!”

ah. satorou.exe restarted successfully.

“what the fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

shoko notes how invested the bartender seems to be in the situation and she can’t blame them.

“wha- when? how even- you never-“, satorou’s thoughts are running a whole marathon with blindfolds, bumping into each other and anything, tangling themselves together like strings. the word vomit coming out of his mouth makes shoko take another sip of her beer and she hopes that’ll make him even more funnier.

“satorou, we sleep in the same fucking bed, you kiss my cheeks regularly, we go on dates every other day, we literally have pet names for each other.”

shoko decides she’s homophobic now.

chapter 261 destroyed my mental so i’m uploading this to hopefully make some of us less depressed. personally, i’m more depressed now because of what we could’ve had

i might write a part 2 to this someday, idk, i rlly like this au but i’m also on the verge of chewing off my lips and i need a break from life

[grey-sides]

King of the River

Steve’s knees sunk onto the damp, hard floor of Tina’s kitchen. His broken heart forgotten when Nancy had walked out the front door with Jonathan Byers close at her heels.

He had been upset, sure, upset enough to down as much punch as Nancy had and more. But maybe it had been falling apart long before the party ever happened.

Maybe it never even got started when Barb went missing after the pool party with Tommy and Carol. Steve didn’t know when they stopped being on the same wavelength, but he found it easier to forget when his brain was clouded with alcohol.

Alcohol and the sight of Billy Hargrove across the room. He was drunk too, a nasty laugh in the air because Tommy H was trying to get his attention. Tommy was always trying to get Billy’s attention.

Steve smirked to himself where he swayed because he didn’t have to fight for Hargrove’s attention. He had it whether he wanted it or not. And he wanted it right now.

He got to his feet and dropped his punch cup on the counter, uncaring if it spilled or made a mess. Tina could deal with that later before her parents got home.

No, Steve needed to talk to Hargrove.

He licked his lips, weaving between the couples still dancing together. Across the house that wasn’t that big, but felt like an ocean of bodies between them.

His sunglasses were in the pocket of his blazer and Steve pulled them out for some courage. Or just to make Hargrove think that he was a bad ass.

“Harrington!” Hargrove drawled while Steve kept making his way over. He grinned, licking over his teeth as he looked at Steve.

“Saw your girlfriend run away with some other guy.”

Steve scoffed, even as his heart ached in his chest. “Not my girlfriend.”

“Tough luck, amigo. Plenty of other bitches in the sea,” Hargrove replied. He was swaying where he was leaning, but he took a bold step forward to get in Steve’s face.

“Broke your record, didn’t I?"

Steve’s eyes dropped to Hargrove’s lips and his beer breath for a moment. But he quickly dragged them back up to smirk.

“Guess you did. I’d offer a rematch, but I hear the keg is tapped,” Steve breathed.

Hargrove laughed and with a flick of his wrist, Tommy H and the other guy were gone. They were still in the middle of a party, but it sure felt like the two of them were alone on top of the world.

Steve licked his lips again and gestured to Hargrove’s chest. “Damn near wearing half the keg it looks like though.”

He was jealous of Hargrove’s chest, of course he was. He played sports and worked out, but he never looked like that. Could never quite get such a nice physique.

Hargrove set his jaw for a second, a moment until he practically grabbed Steve by the scruff of his neck and shoved him out into the yard.

They were alone in the yard, with the keg tapped out, most people had huddled inside for the blistering warmth of high schoolers. Or they were gone, off to fuck each other senseless.

Steve stumbled to a stop, managing to keep his feet under him, but only so. He whirled around, his sunglasses flying from the force of it.

“What did I do?” he demanded, whined really because Hargrove was being unnecessarily rough.

“Acted like you didn’t want my attention all night and now you’re what- trying to razz me?” Hargrove asked. He looked angry, angrier than Steve thought he had any right to be.

Steve waved his arm roughly through the air and he scoffed. “Don’t even why I bother,” he muttered. “Was trying to make conversation.”

Hargrove laughed darkly and shook his head. He reached out to grab Steve’s lapel and pulled him close. “Stupid conversation, Harrington. Yeah, I have beer on myself, get over it, fucking priss.”

“Hey!” Steve shoved back at Billy, his hand sliding across a sticky, sweaty pec. He made a face and tried to take a step back.

“You know, when other people used to overthrow kings, they would make an example out of them,” Hargrove said. Dangerous.

“It’s not real,” Steve muttered, shaking his head.

He licked his lips anyway though and had to ask himself why being talked to like this was making his dick interested. As interested as it could get when he was this drunk, of course.

Hargrove- Billy now, probably- grabbed his shoulder and started to put pressure on it. So Steve was forced to sink down.

“You got a problem with the beer on me?” Billy asked, voice low, deep, and dark.

Steve stared up at him, his mouth open because he didn’t think he could close it. “I-”

Billy nodded and gestured to himself. “Lick it up then.”

“What?'

“Lick. It. Up.” Billy grabbed his chin and pulled his face close. Until Steve was face to face with his tanned stomach.

He blinked a few times and looked up at Billy. “This is-”

“Come on, pretty boy,” Billy coaxed. “Lick it up and I’ll give you a handy in my pretty car.”

Steve felt conflicted, he knew this wasn’t a normal thing for guys to do. But nothing in his life had been normal since Barb went missing and the Demogorgon showed up.

He licked his lips and leaned in. Billy put a hand on the top of his head and Steve opened his mouth. He licked a stripe up the side of his abs.

Billy groaned above him, so Steve did it again. He let his eyes close. He focused on the sticky blandness of the beer. Of the tang of salt from Billy’s sweat. Thought about Billy’s spit mingled with it all.

Steve stuck his tongue in his belly button and swirled it around. He thought about the cold ground on his knees. He opened his eyes to look at Billy through the tops of them.

Billy met his eyes and moaned, pulling on Steve’s hair like he hadn’t spent half an hour on it earlier. It was to shit now anyway.

“There we go. Show me who the King is,” Billy drawled.

So Steve kept going until his eyelashes fluttered and he felt dizzy from licking at Billy like a lollipop.

He got lost there, on his knees in Tina’s yard while he cleaned Billy with just his tongue. His fingers eventually curled around Billy’s legs, the tips digging into the back of his knees.

Steve reduced himself to laps and moans, falling into Billy’s pelvis while he cleaned him up.

And when Billy tugged on his hair hard enough to make Steve stand up, he found he was hard. He hadn’t realized it was happening, but looking down- he saw that they both were.

Billy slung a friendly arm around Steve’s shoulders and steered him out of the yard, away from the party. Towards his pretty car.

“King of the River of Beer and Sweat,” Steve laughed and he couldn’t tell if Billy was laughing with him or at him.

But he felt pretty damn comfortable with the whole arrangement when they tumbled into the Camaro together.

And he felt even more comfortable when they exchanged hands in each other’s pants and mingled their saliva even further.

And he had no answers, but a head full of cotton and a mouth full of Billy and he let himself drift. Down the River of Beer and Sweat.