#he's still fine af too
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hopdenerd ¡ 2 years ago
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"But he's literally 64" And? Respectfully, I'd still kiss him on the mouth
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musubiki ¡ 4 months ago
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its been a while since my last summer mochi 🌺🏖️
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ilovemesomevincentprice ¡ 4 months ago
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Vincent Price - House of 1000 Dolls (1967)
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idiosyncraticrednebula ¡ 1 year ago
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Anakin truly set out the goal to marry Padmé as soon as he first laid his eyes on her. He didn't even interact with her that much to come to the conclusion that he wanted to wed her. As soon as they met again 10 years later, he wasted no time and put a ring on that finger. They didn't even take at least a month; they went straight to marriage. Their romance is essentially a Disney fairytale 😅❤️
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compacflt ¡ 1 year ago
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What does Ice (or Mav) think about the Obama gay rumors? Will they be tuning in to hear the story of the man who allegedly fucked Obama? Are they bi Obama truthers? Is Rooster? Is Hangman? Any other Icebama interactions you're hiding from us? His cameo cracked me up and I need to know more...
the obama gay rumors
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first im hearing about this
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sage-nebula ¡ 2 years ago
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Gonna be honest: I am halfway through my second playthrough of P5R and I don't get the Akechi love in the fandom. No hate to anyone who loves him ofc, we all have different tastes, but
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anotheruntitledsong ¡ 7 months ago
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i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty
#the golem and the jinni#i was scrolling goodreads and the take i kept seeing was 'oh I wish Arbeely could've had his family too bad the jinni FUCKED IT UP'#but idk that's just not how i read him. like thats not where i feel the problem is#his whole shtick is being content as the jinni's foil and like! things can change! but the way it's done leaves him totally unresolved#which in turn means the jinni's shit is also never getting resolved because there is like no way to#when Arbeely describes his future family in the first book it's all 'someday... vaguely...' and AGAIN! what you want can change!#and honestly it's really interesting and sad that he makes this sacrifice for the jinni#but it's a layer of complexity that like clashes with how little he is there for and how little the author's invested in him#and like the way the no marriage literally did not ruin his life at all... sure it sucked but the man is still like idk rich#what has continuously fucked with him throughout both books is that he wants (or at least spends half his page time thinking about)#emotional connection to the jinni in a human way#which is something the jinni cant\wont give him even though he's basically Arbeely's only close friend#(besides ig maryam who was rlly funny hinting at her dislike for the jinni like someone trying to get their friend to dump their toxic bf)#anyway the vibe in the first book is that he only thinks about wanting a wife when the jinni is being a dickhead#BECAUSE the jinni eases arbeelys loneliness by just being there because at the end of the day that's what humans need#but then it's made really weird in the second book by Arbeely getting 'trapped' by the jinni (and yet they just grow further apart)#which means that the only thing arbeely actually spent half his life discontent with and then literally died without is not a wife#it's emotional intimacy with the jinni. which is insane to me#arbeely is obviously already tragic but this seems TOO tragic entirely because the book doesn't give af about addressing it#if it was like a plot thing then all of the above would be fine and gutwrenching because it ties back into the jinnis self isolation#BUT IT'S NOT. like i get arbeely isn't that important to the plot but he was important to the jinni and the jinni was important to him#alsoo necessarily disclaimer i'm not trying to say he's in love with the jinni or anything like that#although a queer arbeely (divorced from the above idea) would also been interesting cuz I dont think the jinni has a grasp on homophobia#so idk theyd be keeping each others secrets (arbeely x the biscuit man? JOKE)#BUTTTT! I don't believe he needs romantic energy! him and the jinni having awful vibes up until arbeely's literal death is what bothers me#The jinni is a bad communicator ik but come on... not once? not even before the diagnosis? The jinni also thinks about how distant they are#could they not talk a little? for me? there are ways to do it within the bounds of their characters FOR SURE#im sure this is the point but i do dislike it either way. anyway sorry arbeely u remind me of my uncle#the hidden palace
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kaerinio ¡ 10 months ago
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smth smth, the image of drogon diving . . . and dany intent, holding on, standing up slightly with her feet braced on his scales!
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rainbow-burst ¡ 1 year ago
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Bro i fr got a bf....like..what🤯🤯🤯
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unproduciblesmackdown ¡ 2 years ago
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handshake w/anyone framed as "abnormal" but once again [trans] handshake [autistic] the way this is so parallel to me continually taking all winston's material in stride and in earnest as just more regular stuff that's probably even extra appealing, then be left to piece together that we're also all supposed to have always taken it all as a joke in the first place
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highflyerwings ¡ 2 months ago
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…
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salvidida ¡ 7 months ago
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Tbh I didn't give a single fuck about Ling, his guards, and the plot around them. The plight of would-be monarchs and their own empire, while journeying to a different empire embroiled in numerous expansions, massacres, and genocides, leaves a bad taste in my mouth. We also get told next to nothing about Xing or peer into their lives in Xing, so it feels like they just exist to contrast Bradley's and Father's philosophy of rulership, which is 🥱😴 (all imperial rulers are bastards)
I like Mei tho. She's the only person who genuinely and enthusiastically helped Scar the moment she met him, and never batted an eye at his original mission of killing war criminals. She never looked down on him, and she felt like someone Scar actually gave a shit about too.
Unlike Yoki who, if we're gonna be honest, is a strange ally for Scar to permit. This former statesmen was openly scheming about taking advantage of Ishvalan refugees but somehow Scar lets that slide?? And Marcoh, for all of his repentance for his atrocities against Ishvalans and his desire to aid Scar (once he's denied a deadly retribution like he initially begged for), is not the worst ally and it narratively makes far more sense for him to be made useful to Scar, but then he gives the remaining philosopher stone made of the Ishvalans he killed to Roy so that he and some fellow war criminals can be healed??? Instead of returning the stone to the Ishvalans, as a means of returning the dead and making reparations???????? He doesn't even give it to Scar, who is recovering from his battle against Bradley??????????? (Of course Scar would never use the stone on himself, but he can deliver the stone back to Ishval, as he's in charge of restoring the land and its people.) Neither of these two fuckers gave a shit about Scar but wanted his protection and (in Yoki's case) friendship.
Mei's the only real one. She didn't take advantage of Scar, she never felt like a fairweather ally, and she has a more genuinely kind heart than the others. (And I enjoyed her character in general, especially her prowess in combat and alkehestry).
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formulawolff ¡ 20 days ago
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nothing else matters — m.v.
pairing: max verstappen x wag!reader
word count: (idek tbh)
warnings: mentions of menstrual cycle, reader is on her period, some cursing, max being tender, bf mode to the max (i think i’m hilarious), tooth-rotting fluff
a/n -> i’m on my period (for the second time this month!) and im miserable rn. (+ fried) so i apologize if this is terrible (i typed it on my phone) i just wanted to write something self-indulgent af.
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euphoria radiates off of him, the energy so contagious it brings an entire crew to their feet.
his cheeks are flushed, tinged a rosy hue from the rush of it all. his eyes are bright, shining as the team surrounds him, jostling him back and forth. you can hear his laughter, the way it rings so wonderfully in your ears as they shout his name.
“max! max! max! max! max!”
“all right, all right,” he catches his breath, “let’s not get too excited. it’s only pole.”
“only pole?” you find yourself scoffing as another familiar voice fills the air, “max, this is huge for us!”
“well the race isn’t won yet,” the corners of your lips twitch, a smile forming as max clears his throat, “we can celebrate when we finally win a fucking race.”
christian horner exhales, the remark from max clearly striking a chord, “well, i can’t disagree with you there. all right everyone, let’s get to it. we have a lot to do before the race tomorrow if we want to remind everyone of who we are.”
you remain in the corner of the space, arms folded across your chest as the crew disperses. you take in the way max’s jaw clenches as people flurry around, his gaze brimmed with desperation.
he was looking for someone.
and that someone was you.
however, you don’t move a muscle, sitting as still as possible. another ripple of pain courses through you, yet you clamp down on your tongue. the cramping sensation originates from your lower abdomen, this wave far worse than the last.
hanging your head, tears well up in your eyes. the cramps started just this morning, right around nine. now, the austin sun was dipping below the horizon, promising of dusk.
your hands ball up, squeezing into fists as the pain intensifies. the adrenaline from qualifying was wearing off, and fuck, was it wearing off quicker than you expected.
“hey,” there’s a figure in front of you, his voice soft as he kneels, “baby, what’s going on? do i need to get a medi—“
“no,” you hiss, “i’m fine.”
“come on,” hands envelop yours, “follow me.”
you want to protest, yet he’s already helping you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist. you instinctively lean into him, grateful for his touch. a few members of the crew pause from their work, murmuring among themselves. you shrink a little, shame burning within as max practically allows you to lean against him.
fuck, was this utterly embarrassing.
oh, how the rumors were going to fly.
max verstappen’s girlfriend was so drunk at qualifying that he had to practically carry her out.
what. a. headline.
the walk from the garage to the motorhome is a blur.
before you know it, max has you in bed, prompting you to lay down. you obey, pulling the cover over you as he follows, bringing you in against his chest.
he hasn’t showered yet, and you pick up traces of his cologne mixed with perspiration. his hair is a haphazard mess, ruffled from the gear and his cap. his clothes cling to his body, more than likely from the sweat and heat of the suit.
lips graze your temple, fingers tenderly massaging your scalp.
“what’s going on?”
“nothing,” you shrug, “i’m okay.”
“bullshit,” he tuts. fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to look upward, “what. is. going. on?”
“i started my period,” your lower lip trembles, “and i’ve been dealing with cramps all day.”
“and you didn’t say anything?” concern dances in his intense gaze, “baby, there are medical staff on site who would be happy to provide you with anything you need. i’m sure asking for a couple of pain relievers wouldn’t have been an issue. you’ve been suffering like this all day?”
“it wasn’t a big deal,” you retort, warmth flooding your cheeks as tears overflow, “i wasn’t suffering. it’s just my period. i was fi—“
“don’t say that shit,” he cuts in, “when i saw you, you looked miserable. absolutely fucking miserable. you were nearly curled up in the fetal position in that chair.”
“maybe i just didn’t want to draw any attention to myself,” you mutter, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “i didn’t want to seem like i was high maintenance.”
“baby,” a chuckle rumbles in his chest, “asking someone for some medication or somewhere to lay down is not high maintenance.”
tears splatter against his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut, “now i just feel fucking worse because i took you away from you job. you’re going to get into some shit with the fia and it’s my fault.”
“listen to me,” his arms pull you in even tighter, his mouth planting gentle kisses along your forehead, “are you listening to me?”
“yes,” you nod, sniffling, “i’m listening.”
“when it comes to you, nothing else matters. you are my only priority. ensuring that you’re safe and sound comes first. taking care of you is what’s important to me. i would much rather make sure you’re feeling better than attend a press conference. i’ll deal with the repercussions in the morning.”
“are you sure?” your voice shakes, threatening to crescendo into a sob.
“yes,” he murmurs, “i’m sure. i love you.”
“i love you,” the words are a strangled cry, the fabric now soaked as the tears spill, “i love you so much, max.”
“i love you more,” heated hands find your back, kneading, “what do you need from me baby? say it and it’s yours.”
“i just want you.”
a laugh bubbles up in his throat, “you can have me, but you’re going to get a hot shower. then we’re going to go to hospitality to get you some food. after that, you can have me as much as you want. deal?”
“deal,” you shake your head, “can we get something sweet too?”
“we’ll get all the sweet things,” the words are tender, just what you needed to hear, “and we can pick you up a stuffy from the airport on our way home. we can even look for a trinket or two. the ones i know you like, the sonny angels or calico critters. how does that sound?”
“that sounds perfect,” the tears have ceased, a sense of relief rippling within max, “i would love that, max. thank you for being the best boyfriend ever.”
at that, he can’t help but melt a little at the sincerity laced within your tone, “of course, baby. anything for you. i can’t bear the thought of you in pain or uncomfortable. i’ll do anything to help you feel better.”
“even if it interferes with your job?”
“even if i have to pull out of the race tomorrow.”
“you’re ridiculous,” a light giggle fills the space, max’s lips forming a wide grin, “you wouldn’t do that.”
oh but for you, max verstappen would.
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lass-us-slay ¡ 4 months ago
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So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.
So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.
So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.
So what does he do?
Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.
Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.
Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️
AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!
And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes
Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!
And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:
Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.
.
.
.
Good. I’m tired af
And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.
It’s going great.
But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.
And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.
Yk because of the ectoplasm.
So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!
In the form of blob ghosts.
Two actually.
They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.
Everything was great.
Danny was loving the trash can life style.
He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.
He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.
However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.
Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.
But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.
He stared, they stared back.
Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:
“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”
But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.
Which- rude.
Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.
Plus.
It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!
They should mind their own business!
———
Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.
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wild-jackalope ¡ 2 months ago
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Satoru Gojo, your scarily perceptive teacher, takes it upon himself to help his horny student, you, with your over-abundance of cursed energy.
paring :: Teacher!Satoru x Student!Reader, Student!Megumi x Student!Reader (undertones).
warning :: age gap, teacher-student relationship, public sex, virgin reader, corruption kink (kinda), straight penetration, no foreplay, cherry popping, Gojo is cocky, reader is horny af.
note :: reader is 18 and a third year with the other students (Yuji, Megumi, Nobara).
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“That much cursed energy isn’t good for you.” Megumi eyed you, a weary frown resting on his face.
“I’m fine.” You grunted. The vast aura of cursed energy angrily whipping around you only seemed to surge more when he continued his lecture.
“You’ll get sick.” He added, a noticeable warning in his tone.
“I’m fine.” You sharply returned.
You had not been fine, in fact, you were tensed beyond belief. Being a Jujustu sorcerer was hard, anyone with a brain could tell you that, but the past weeks had taxed you physically and emotionally to an extent you had never experienced. Mission after mission had lead you to lacking personal and intimate time. Each night you'd black out the moment your head hit your pillow, sometimes still in your sweaty uniform.
Each morning you'd wake up with a noticeable wet spot between your legs, but before you could set your barking pussy to rest, you'd be called up and sent on another mission. The only way you could release the building tension was by taking it out on curse spirits, leading to relatively swift victories. The higher ups seemed to consider your constant wins as a challenge because they continued to throw cursed spirits your way.
This had been going on for a whole month, and now it came to the point in your womanly cycle where you yearned to be fucked the most; Ovulation.
"What's up with you?" Yuji questioned.
"Frustrated?" Nobara grinned. You'd made the mistake of venting to her about your situation during a paired mission. Your body tightened with searing regret.
"Don't pester her. You'll make it worse." Megumi cut, keeping his narrow eyes targeted at your surrounding classmates.
Maybe if Megumi liked you enough to defend you, you could test the waters and see if you could get him under the sheets. Idiot. You palmed your forehead, attempting to smack away the thoughts. Megumi was your friend. You'd just embarrass yourself.
"Woah, look at that aura." Satoru had finally slipped into the classroom, about twenty minutes late to the class. Twenty minutes you could've spent getting yourself off. Stop thinking about it. "Someone's seeming a little moody." He jested, lifting the side of his blindfold to eye your irritated cursed energy.
You huffed a depressing sigh, Satoru's harassing would just frustrated you more, especially considering he was so hot. God you would do anything to be dicked down. Especially by him.
The majority of the class time was spent with your head resting in your folded arms. Each low syllable pronounced by your teacher would make you fantasies about what his moans would sound like and whenever you felt his eyes gaze over you, a tingling shiver meddled with your legs. You were too far gone. Even if you had time to masturbate, would it be enough?
Even after the class had finished, you delayed leaving your chair, hoping to grind your thighs together just a little longer to the thoughts of your teacher.
"Coming?" Megumi asked. You wished.
"She should stay back." Satoru stated, casual smile on his face.
You lifted your head, blinking.
"Bye." Megumi waved, you returned the gesture.
"So you going to tell me the deal with all your cursed energy, or should I just take an educated guess?" His hand landed on the base of your desk, slender pointer finger tapping it.
Unintentionally, your voice left you in the form of a meek whimper. "I'll deal with it, you don't have to worry."
"Educated guess then," He shrugged, finding no satisfaction in your answer. "I know you've been shoved a heavy work load, being asked to defeat cursed spirits every day for.. how many weeks now? Four?" You nodded. "Rough. I dealt with a similar thing back in my youth, the strongest is always busy. Never any time to be alone."
You swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth. "Uhm, yeah."
"So that's it then? You're just a bit pent up." You flushed at his casual discovery.
"I-I said I'll deal with it. We don't need to be talking—"
"Want me to help?"
That’s what landed you on Satoru’s desk, papers scattered over the floor, with your bottoms hanging off your leg and his pants resting just above his hips. You’d moved from your desk to his with a frazzled fanaticism, not caring to question Satoru’s sexual intentions as he lead you, merely chasing the end of your drowning lust. In that moment, your teacher seemed like the solution to all your problems, so you let in.
His thumb dipped beneath his boxers, leisurely pulling them down to expose the lines of his hips and the beginning of his shaft.
He’d pulled your bottoms off with an intense haste, unfairly compared to how slowly he teased you with the sight of his dick. He watched your wide, glossy eyes gape like a virgin at him.
“Wet dream come true?” He asked, chuckling behind his words.
Your response was a breathy hiccup, filled with astonishment and embarrassment. Did he know you had the hots for him? Well, he must’ve had some clue, because you were currently naked from the waist down on his desk.
“Cute.” He added, finally allowing his cock to spring free and give you the sight you longed for. Your fingers began to ache with how hard you gripped the table, skin blanching and nails digging into the wood with stressed intensity.
The size of him was larger than what you’d imagined, thicker too. His pale skin, littered with blue-ish veins, perfectly blended into a lip-pink tip, already damp with his own pre. The reality that his was the first dick you’d seen in person, and were about to feel inside the chasm of your pussy made your stomach pile with anxious butterflies.
The sudden heat of the moment dampened in your mind, as your virgin inexperience hit you like whiplash. You pressed your lips inwards, biting them. You couldn’t tell him, not now, not while he was slipping between your legs and his hands were rising underneath your uniform.
“So tense.” He murmured, towering posture leaning into your figure as his fingers skimmed the lining of your ribs, then reached the fabric of your bra. “Relax babe, no one’s gonna disturb this.” He kissed your clothed shoulder, then your neck. The softness made you burn and melt into him.
“Gojo—” Your tone was weary, and Satoru cut you off before you could utter any confused regret.
“I’m your teacher, I know what’s best for you. I’ll take care of your problem, yeah? You just sit there and enjoy it.” His lips latched onto yours, sucking away any words you were thinking of speaking from your lips.
One hand returned to his base, taking his cock whilst the other held your body, his thumb rolling over your supported boob in a needy motion.
His cock dipped between your folds, gathering the pooling slick that dripped from your cunt. The connection made you jolt and grab the arm he used to grope you.
“Forgot how quickly younger girls get wet.” He muttered aloud. Your face must’ve churned at the words, because he immediately backtracked. “I don’t go searching to fuck young women, I’ve just had plenty of experience over the years.”
Your face eased, but still you squinted in distrust. He laughed.
“I mean, c’mon, you’re gushing just at the sight of me.” Embarrassed, you averted your eyes and uttered a unintelligible disagreement. Satoru took your flushed face into his hand and brought your attention back to his grin. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, you’re the youngest I’ve had.” Unable to move yourself from his grip, Satoru leaned down and planted a wet kiss to your lips.
He licked over your bottom lip, retreating when you moaned in his mouth. He’d become impatient, needing to feel your wet warmth hugging his dick. He thrusted his cock into your clit, once, twice before planting his tip in the crook of your weeping hole.
“Fuck, Megumi is gonna hate me.” He drawled, a contradictory excitement lacing his tone.
You hadn’t time to question his statement as his cock dived between your folds, slipping into your chasm and stretching the thin skin of your cherry.
“Ah! Fuck.” You huffed, the stretching ache rumbling through your abdomen causing your legs to restrict around him. Your hands shot to his chest, weakly and frantically grabbing at the loose fabric of his uniform. “Gojo—”
“Oh, I know, baby. I know.” A certain weak pity jesting his words. “Fuck, you’re tight. Don’t tell me, am I your first?” His smirk grew at the concept, as did his cock.
You hadn���t given him an answer, only spurs of moaning huffs as you concentrated on dealing with ache of being split open by his lean dick. He retracted his hips sharply, you gasped and hit his chest.
“Tell me, c’mon. Am I your first? Am I?” He sunk in again, then retracted with an agonising speed.
“Gah! Yes, yes— fuck, you are.” You huffed, hitting his abdomen again.
“Fuuuck. Lucky me.” Satoru slowed his hips, returning to sliding inside you with an uninterrupted slowness. “I’ve been so selfish, jus’ wanting to fuck you right away, next time it’ll be all about you. Promise.”
“N-Next time?” You heaved, clawing at his chest.
With a deep drawl, he responded. “You ain’t the only one who has needs, baby.” You could feel the words puff into your neck.
The realisation hit you. Satoru was just as pent up as you were, having no time to hookup or masturbate. His situation was just as bad as yours, likelier worse. As much as he might’ve wanted to seem like a teacher just helping his student get off to alleviate their cursed energy, he craved sex twice as much as you did.
He continued to sink in, sliding against the pleasurable nerves decorating your gummy walls. You whined and Satoru hushed you, halting once his hips pressed into yours. “There you go, perfect fit.” He praised.
“God.” You choked, gasping at the air. You felt him, felt his hot cock press into the parts of you nobody else had, parts your own fingers had barely reached.
“I know. Big, huh? You can take it, I know you can.” His slender hand cupping your breast squeezed in feeble reassurance.
Your teeth clenched and your chest fell with fast puffs. “Perv.” You breathed.
His cock twitched, tapping the roof of your sticky canal. “So rude. Don’t you know you need to respect your elders?” He drew his hips out and you winced.
“Just wait, hmpf, God—” You ripped at his shirt. He’d been pushing you this entire time, eager to fuck you silly.
Satoru brought his hands to his mouth and licked his finger, pressing it to your clit and rubbing the saliva into the nub. The pleasure it brought you fought against the aching and you rested your head against his chest, allowing the sweet feeling to soften your body.
“Good girl. Loosen up for me.” He murmured kindly. The words alone added another wet layer of slick around his cock.
His thrusts started off slow and long, pulling his cock so out that your entrance ring danced around his tip, then sweetly sliding back in until your pubes met. Each time he’d penetrate your deepest part, tip dangerously close to tapping your cervix, you’d whine and moan, making him chant mindless remixes of the phrase ‘I know baby, just take it. It’s okay.’
Even at his slowest pace, your mind went hazy with the intensity of sex. Hot, wet, wrong sex. Each time you revisited the reality of your own teacher fucking you, it made your pussy clench around him.
He grunted, taking a calming breath. “‘M gonna pick up the pace, okay?” He was hardly asking for permission, practically tripling his speed before he finished his warning.
You moaned into his chest, hands dragging around his body, wanting to feel him and begging to hold onto something. Satoru placed them on his shoulder, squeezing your wrists in an attempt at comfort, though you could hardly feel anything other than the overwhelming sensation of your gooey insides being massaged.
The curves of his cock flittering past your cloying walls began to feel impossibly familiar, like you were born to be filled with Satoru’s cock. Each drawl made his cock head slide against the spongy part of your g-spot, building you up and up into ecstasy.
The buildup from inside your chasm was intense and ticklish, otherworldly compared to the orgasms you’d rub out alone in bed. You only wished Satoru had perused you sooner.
“I’m gonna cum— oh fuck.”
“I know, baby. I know. Keep taking it.” His nose dipped into your hair, rubbing your side like a cat.
Your climax hit hard and fast, turning your legs to jelly and releasing muscles you hadn’t known were clenched. Your pussy walls cramped and fluttered around Gojo’s cock sucking him in and prompting him to cum inside you. He whined at the intensity.
Satoru Gojo, your teacher, the strongest Jujustu sorcerer, whining as you clenched around his cock. The power trip collided with your electric orgasm, forcing a weak smile to your lips that made your cheeks burn and welled searing tears in your eyes.
He moaned desperately loud, enough to make your heart sink at the idea of it being heard. However the fear was short lived as hot liquid seed pooled in the deep parts of your pussy, thickly coating your walls. You shivered, unable to recongise the foreign feeling of being cummed in. Slower now, he rode the spurts of his orgasm.
“You came inside?” You lazily questioned, unable to reprimand Satoru besides an unsteady slap to his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about that baby, I’ll handle it.” He murmured, upper body now resting against you while his hips slowed to a halt. “Well done.” He cooed, nibbling at your neck.
“You say that like I just defeated a cursed spirit.” You sighed. His lips curl into a smile against your skin and you cringed.
“But you deserve it, pretty girl.”
Peering down at where his cock stilled inside you, you could see the drips of cum froth around his base, dots of pinkish blood swirling with your juices too.
He left you with another curt cheek-kiss, removing himself from your bullied cunt. The feeling of loosing his warm thickness was a discomfort comparable to when he first entered you.
You cursed, the words catching in your throat. Finally able to relax your legs, they attempted to shut however Satoru’s hands grappled the plush of your thigh and pried them open.
“Don’t close your legs, I’ve got to clean you up.”
Akin to a guardian placing a Band-Aid over a sulking child’s scraped knee, Satoru dabbed a tissue to your sloppy cunt, gathering up the mix of blood, cum and slick until you were semi-dry. He pressed a kiss to your clit and you gasped. The sugar-sweet noise begged him to dive between your lips and suck up the mess he made inside you. Next time, he thought, next time he’d leave you ruined.
“The others are still waiting for you, go meet up with them.” He looped your underwear and bottoms through your legs, allowing you to stand and pull them up all the way.
Standing added another pressure to your core and you wobbled. “It hurts.” You uttered into your chest.
“You’ll be fine, a little pain never bothered you out on the field, one of the reason you’re my favourite.” His words tasted like butter and you pressed a frustrated palm to his chest.
“Don’t say stuff like that.” Your reserve was questionable, considering how you two just fucked.
He took your wrist and kissed it. “It’s true.”
A weak scoff left you, and you turned on your heel penguin-walking outside the classroom, Satoru sending you off with a tap to your ass.
“You seem a lot better.” Megumi mused, a quick shine of surprised relief on his face.
“You’re glowing.” Nobara added, an upturn brow and narrow eyes taking in your afterglow.
Strategically, you avoided Nobara’s comment and directed yourself towards Megumi. “Yeah, Gojo managed to actually help for once.” You let out an uneasy chucke, adjusting your blazer.
Just as you were about to suggest grabbing some food, likely sushi, to your classmates, Satoru’s voice called out to you.
Crap, had you forgotten something? You put your underwear on, right?
“This is for you.” He extended a hand, holding a plastic sheet containing one singular pill. Your face and ears immediately flushed, turning a bright pink. You snatched the plan B off him, placing it deep into the crevice of your pocket and turning your back to him.
“Thanks.” You hissed.
“Bye then.” He flirted, giving his other students a wave before backing away.
“What was that?” Yuji asked.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
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dinogoofymutated ¡ 3 months ago
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You asked for some smut suggestions for Logan, and I got one:
So like…I mean…Logan might be on the short side, but he’s still big! I mean, like,,,those hands 🫣 It would be nice to see a fic to do with Logan and a little manhandling. but not like in a BDSM way, more like a “I am very strong, and here’s a little reminder” type way. Might seem kinda silly but I’d enjoy a fic like that lol.
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NSFW!Wolverine/AFAB!Reader Ask and you shall receive!! I've spent like the last four days working on this and atp I can't looks at it anymore lol. I'm not super happy with how the beginning is written, but I still think it's alright enough to post lol. It's a lot more tell than show compared to most of my other fics, and I was halfway tempted to reformat it into headcannons, but I didn't feel like it. Anyway, hope you like the way I included the manhandling lol! Hope it turned out okay :) Also, might or might not be tall logan. I'll leave it up to yall to assume, I'm just short af so there's not a single person in marvel who wouldn't have to look down at me lmao.
Edit:FUCK I FORGOT THE READ MORE! TWs: MDNI!!!!!! Seriously, you will be blocked. Masterbation, lil bit of a scent kink. Sexual frustration. Manhandling. Jealous Logan. Creampie. Logan calls you "sunshine" and pretty and shit. I'll add more if I can think of any.
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    You had a problem. You’ve had a problem. And it really didn’t seem like it was getting any better. It didn’t help the fact that it was incredibly embarrassing, either.
    You couldn’t get off. It’s not like you ever struggled with it before, but lately, it felt like you were fighting a losing battle. At first, you didn’t realize why. Maybe it was because you moved into the X-Mansion. Nerves because you’re living somewhere new, right? So you change it up a little. You got comfortable, had a glass of wine or two, and picked up a raunchy book. Yet every time you slipped your hand between your thighs… Running circles around your own clit, trying your best to finger yourself to your finish, you just could never quite hit that peak. It was safe to say you were beyond frustrated.
    Lucky for you, most people didn’t notice. You try your best not to be too uptight or mean, but there are just some things that you can’t quite hide from certain people.
    Logan’s noticed that something is up with you. You can tell he has, seeing the looks on his face, nose scrunched up in a way he’s catching into something that he just can't quite place. You’re assuming it’s your own pheromones, but hey, as long as he doesn’t realize what it is you’ll be fine, right?
     Maybe not.
    Eventually, you finally realized why you were having so much trouble getting off. All it took was one training session with Wolverine, and you knew immediately. You weren’t sparring or anything like that, hell, you knew before you even hit the danger room floor. Logan was in a bit of a mood today, although not as grumpy as he can be- and he’s trying to be patient with you. You can tell. But you’re having trouble focusing today- and you have been for a while. He can tell you’re not at 100% just by the way you hold yourself, and spends about 5 minutes watching as you struggle to reset the Danger room panel before he’s finally fed up with it.
    “Jesus fuck. Here, let me do it.” Logan grabs you by the waist, pulling you to his chest with one arm as the other reaches around you to reset the panel. It’s not like you didn’t find him attractive before, but the close contact? The smell of his aftershave and the sound of his voice growling in your ear? 
    oh.
    Oh. 
    You were having trouble getting off because you had a thing for Logan.
    You’re practically stunned when he pulls away, standing there with a flushed face and something rather embarrassing pooling in your underwear for the first time in a while. You had to quickly excuse yourself before you ran the risk of him catching onto anything coming from you. He’s a little confused for a second, but you can hear the sound of his low chuckle as you scramble away.
    First thing you do? Go to the store.
    It's not a random errand. At least, not entirely. You had meant to go out with Storm to grocery shop later this afternoon, but you told her you could really use some time out of the house by yourself, which she completely understood. You had the list and everything, it was only a coincidence that you passed by the cologne section on your way to pick up some toothpaste. The sight made you stop for a minute, the gears grinding in your skull. You spent just a few minutes curiously sampling the bottles until you found one that smelled a bit familiar… Should you? No, that's a bit strange. But really, what was the harm, right? I mean, who would know? 
    So you bought it. You felt a bit embarrassed afterward, knowing what you bought it for, and ended up letting it sit in the drawer of your side table for a good while. Until another desperate attempt at fucking your own brains out, that is. 
    You were sweaty and uncomfortable in your bed, sleep shirt sticking to your skin as you struggled to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. It’s been a while, and it shows. You couldn’t even get your favorite dildo to fit inside of you, only adding to your frustration. Touching your clit hardly helped much, leaving you as unsatisfied as ever. Eventually, you give up, lying there as you sigh to yourself. You turn over in your bed in a huff, halfway temped scream your lungs out into the pillow you bury your face in. Instead, you let out something that sounds more like a whisper than a yell, letting the air in your lungs deflate as you let your feelings out. You roll over onto your side when you’re done, halfway tempted to be done with it entirely and go back to bed when you catch sight of the nightstand drawer, slightly ajar. The amber bottle of liquid stares right at you. 
    You open the drawer some more, picking up the bottle and looking at it as you wonder if you’re actually going to do this. But you’re ridiculously horny, and tired, and you know you’re gonna have trouble falling asleep in the state you’re in- so you end up spraying the smallest amount on your pillow.
    It’s…nice. The pillow is warm from where you had been laying on it, and despite how strong men’s cologne could be, this one isn’t quite so striking. At least, not in the amount that you used. You relax back into your bed, pressing your face into the pillow and laying there for a moment. You start thinking about Logan�� His calloused hands running across your skin. How his lips and tongue would feel against your own, trailing down your body to your breast. Your hand trails down to your clit as you imagine it as his own. You imagine him behind you, pressing you to the bed as he growls into your ear. You think about what his happy trail would feel like against you. What his cock would look like, feel like, pressing into you. Your legs twitch and shake as you see stars underneath your eyelids, the scent of Logan hitting all the right parts in your head and going straight to your cunt.
    Holy shit. 
    Your orgasm lasts what feels like forever. Your legs are still shaking as you whimper from oversensitivity and pull your hand away, panting as you try to catch your breath. You haven’t cum that hard since… ever. Maybe the cologne was worth it, after all.
    You felt really good the morning after. You found yourself humming in the shower, more energized at breakfast and morning drills. No one had said anything, but you knew there were a few who were relieved to see you back to your usual self. If anything, the only person you noticed acting very differently around you was Logan. He was more tense than normal. He scowled a lot, spending less time in your presence. You’d strike up a conversation that would only last a few minutes before he would make an excuse and leave. It made you a little disappointed. But you knew him and knew he had good and bad days, so you brushed it off at first. But a week, two weeks- almost a month went by, and still no change. You felt scorned almost, silently rejected by the guy you had finally realized you were practically in love with, and to be honest, the only man who could get you off just by thinking about him- and boy, did you get off while thinking about him. 
    You’ve almost resigned yourself to the fact that Logan wasn’t interested when he corners you one morning. He’s leaning up against the wall of the hallway,  waiting for you when you step out of your room. It makes you jump a little, closing your door quickly behind you, knowing damn well you hadn’t washed your sheets after fucking yourself to the moon and back last night and fully not wanting the smell to hit his nose. All Logan does is narrow his eyes. Shit.
    “Who is he.” He asks you. The question completely derails your train of thought. And you furrow your brow, confused. What was that about?
    “Who is he? Your guy?” He asks again, but it does little to clear up your confusion. You’re halfway wondering if he’s being serious at this point, stepping away from your door as you cross your arms.
    “What?” You ask. Logan huffs when you respond to him, cocking his head at you in a way that's more sarcastic than curious. The way he’s looking at you is doing some things that you don’t think you’d like to admit, eyes narrow and scrutinizing as you struggle to keep eye contact with him.
    “What do you mean? What guy?” You repeat back to him, starting to get a little frustrated. He snorts, rolling his eyes as his scowl lingers. He steps closer, looking down at you from less than a foot away with that angry stare.
    “Don’t play stupid with me, sunshine. I can smell him on you.” You ignore the way the nickname makes you shiver a little bit, too busy shrinking into yourself when you process the extent of his words. Smell. He could smell someone on you. Something. Oh god, this was embarrassing. 
    “Oh! That- It’s not what you're thinking!” You say, face flushed red. You’re flustered beyond belief, doing your best to convince him to leave it be, and it’s not going so well for you.
    “Sure it’s not.” Logan huffs. He starts to take steps forward, closing in on your personal space.
    “It’s not. I can promise you that.” You’re anxiously fiddling with your fingers now, taking a step back for every step he takes. He looked predatory, unlike any time you’ve seen him before. You haven’t even seen him like this in the danger room, even less so on the battlefield. 
    “Just tell me who he is.” Logan is adamant about it, his scowl beginning to turn into a frown. Your back hits your door, kickstarting your heart in surprise. You hadn’t realized he had backed you up so far.
    “I can’t!” You say, in the beginning stages of becoming absolutely exasperated, and already incredibly embarrassed. 
    “Why not!?” Logan Snaps, stopping just inches away from you. You cover your heated face, pressing your palms into your eyes until you see shapes, wanting nothing more than to curl up and die right then and there.
    “Would you just leave it!” You shout, but Logan’s having none of it. 
    “No, I won't!” Logan grabs your wrists and moves them away from your face, holding them in front of your chest with a grip lighter than you might have thought. You groan in utter frustration and mortification, looking him dead in the eyes as your angry mouth starts speaking before your reasonable brain can fully catch up.
    “Jesus Christ Logan! Do you expect me to just whip out the silicone and show you?!” Your eyes widen as soon as you say it, slamming your mouth shut as you finally catch up with yourself. Logan is staring at you in absolute shock, jaw almost slack at the confession. 
    “...What?” He asks, slowly. You wince, looking off to the side before deciding it's a bit too late to get the cat back into the bag.
    “Its… Cologne. What you’re smelling. I use it to uh, help me…” You make a sort of gesture with your head, praying that you won’t actually have to spell it out for him. He’s still in shock as he looks at you, hands frozen with his fingers wrapped around your wrists. He clears his throat when he comes to, an unreadable expression on his face as he slowly steps forward again, close enough to press his forehead against your own as he presses you against your door.
    “You’re that pent up, you need cologne to help you get off?” He asks, and you don’t know what to say, cat catching your tongue as he leans forward. The side of his face brushes against your cheek as he leans down a little, the action making your skin prickle. One of his hands releases a wrist to slide up and across the back of your neck, tilting your head to the side as he takes a big sniff of your skin. He’s practically nuzzling you, angling his head so that he can smell the scent on the back of your head where you rest against your pillow at night. 
    He’d noticed it before, at night when most of his anger had worn off, sometime after he started to pick up the scent on you. The undertones, the top notes. But now with you this close, he can tell that it wasn’t another man he was smelling. No. It was just you. Your scent being drowned out by the smell of something that he could finally tell smelled rather suspiciously like his very own aftershave.
    “...Don’t tell me that you wanted it to smell like me.” He asks after a moment. You almost flinch at the sound of his deep rumble, turning your red face away from him. You swallow, feeling like you are absolutely burning up as you nod- right as Logan catches the unmistakable scent of arousal.
    “Fuck”
    You’re sure the sound was more animal than man as he cups your cheek rather aggressively, pressing his lips against your own in a rather desperate kiss. It takes you a second to return it, eyes wide as you process just what was happening. It didn't take long for you to melt into his desperate kisses though, every nip and brush of his teeth just like you imagined it would be. He presses his knee in between your thighs, finally releasing your other wrist to grab ahold of your hip instead. You accidentally let out a whine when he grinds your hips against him, your heart beating so fast you were sure it was going to explode. He curses again at the sound, both hands sliding around you to lift you against the door.
    You practically squeak in surprise, the noise caught by Logan’s mouth on your own one more time before he trails down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You gasp as he presses against you, his hips beginning to grind against your own. You’re having a hard time thinking, biting your lip as you do your best to stifle your sounds.
    “Logan-ah, can we… head inside, please?” He only grunts in response, shifting your weight as you both begin to fumble for the doorknob. He gets it before you do, hardly stumbling as the door behind you swings open. He’s kissing you again before the door is even closed, kicking it behind him. As preoccupied as you are, you at least have the common sense to reach over and try to lock the door before he carries you over to the bed. 
    He plops you down onto the mattress before he crawls over you, eyes half-lidded and just as lustful as your own. He pushes you down as you try to sit up. His breathing a little hard, pupils dilated to a size you had never seen.
    “Now I know why you closed the door so fast,” Logan smirks, having picked up the lingering scent of your sex on the sheets right away. You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off. His tongue snakes into your mouth, and you find that you can’t really remember what you were going to say anyway. He kisses you again and again, distracting you as he reaches above your head. He pulls away when he has the pillow in hand, and you know just by the look on his face that he knows exactly what he is holding.
    “Hate to break it to you, but this doesn’t exactly compare to the real thing.” He snarks. It makes you laugh, and for the first time in a while, you see a genuine smile spread across his face. 
    “Yeah.” You respond, taking the pillow from his hands and tossing it to a far-off corner. “I know.” You could revel in his smile for as long as he’d let you. Logan’s kisses start off sweeter this time, at least for a moment they did. They begin to become more and more rough as hands start to wander and clothes start to come off. His shirt is first to go, your hands running up and down the hair that spans his torso. Logan is quick to remove your shirt and bra in one go, one very small step away from cutting off your clothes entirely. He gives himself a minute to appreciate your breasts, pinching and teasing you by sliding a hand up the middle of your sternum, the back of his hand brushing the side of a tit as he watches you squirm underneath him, arching your back to push your chest out, practically begging him to finally touch you.
    “Patience is a virtue, Sunshine.” Logan says, causing you to scoff. You glare at him a little and all it does is make him chuckle a bit. 
    “Don’t be mean.” You whine. He laughs a bit harder as he finally lowers himself to your chest. He keeps his eyes locked on your own as he brushes the blunt ends of his teeth across the soft skin, but he’s never been the most patient man. It doesn't take him long to give in to you, sucking on each breast individually, massaging the soft skin of the opposite as he does so. 
    “Careful.” He growls when your own hands begin to wander, touching him over the fabric of his jeans. He releases your nipple with a pop, bearing his teeth as he presses his face back into your neck. You don't pay much mind to that, rather enjoying the grunts and sounds he makes as you slowly stroke his covered hardness from base to tip. You can't imagine how restrained he must be feeling. You can��t help but smirk a little as your hands drift up and down, before oh So slowly unbuckling his belt. Logan is agitated, practically bucking his hips into your hands to get you to just get over with it. 
    “Patience is a virtue.” You quote, only earning a restraining hold on your hands once again.
    “Fuck that.” Logan growls. He holds you by your wrists, pushing them above your head as he uses his free hand to remove his belt and frantically unbuckle his pants. You'd be complaining if it weren't for the view of his straining cock, slapping against his abdomen as he pulls his pants down. 
    You don't get to stare for too long before he flips you on your stomach like you weigh nothing. He lets your wrists go to pull down your shorts and underwear, a sticky string of your slick thinning as he pulls the items down.
    “Fuck. You're this wet from just that?” Logan asks you, taking two fingers and sliding them through your lips from behind, spreading his fingers to let himself see the mess you've made of yourself already.
    “...shut up.” You mumble, more focused on the feeling of those very same fingers sliding back and forth across your cunt, the tips just barely brushing against your clit every time. Logan chuckles, sliding one hand under your lower stomach to lift your hips with ease. Your hips buck as he slides a thick finger inside of you without warning, slowly sinking down to his knuckle with ease.
    “Might not even need foreplay at this rate.” Logan rumbles behind you, eyes set squarely on the sight of your pretty pussy spread wide open for him. You can only moan in response as he pulls it back out again, plunging a second finger into you this time. Your hands clutch the sheets as Logan begins to finger fuck you to his content, curling those thick digits to hit that one spot juuust right. You try not to buck or squirm too bad, halfway wondering if this is all just some wet dream. 
    “Logan-” You call out for him through your moans. He only hums in reply, preoccupied at the moment.
    “I- god- I need your cock, please.” You're not sure if it was the phrase or the begging, but it makes Logan groan. You feel embarrassingly empty as he pulls his fingers out. You hear the sound of him stroking his hard cock with your slick, groaning and humming to himself before he picks you up. He leans over you, adjusting to you your hands and knees as you finally feel that thick, thick cock grinding against you. You gasp at the way it feels, feeling Logan smirk against your back.
    “Having second thoughts?” The tone of his voice is teasing, but you know there's more than that behind the words. You vehemently shake your head, grinding back against him a little as you protest. Logan swears under his breath, holding onto your hips to keep them still as he sits up.
    Both of you groan each time the head of his cock catches on your clit, Logan thrusting through your lips again and again as he lubes himself with the wetness you provide for him. You gasp when his head catches on your slot, notching just right. 
    Logan pushes into you so slowly, and you feel like he's thicker than you ever imagined he would be. You're impatient, desperate. You push back onto him in an attempt to take him in more, but his hands on your hips stop you.
    “Believe me sweetheart, you don't want that yet.” Logan tells you, straining himself with how tight you feel around him. He soothingly rubs his thumbs against your skin, pressing into you until you have him completely, balls deep inside you. 
    “Please, please. Logan, Please, I need you to move.” Your begging starts to sound like nonsense to your own ears, but it makes Logan gasp all the same, his cock twitching from where it's buried inside of you. You practically cry in relief when he finally begins to thrust Inside of you.
    His hip smack against your ass with every thrust, the sound of the slap mixed with the sounds of your love and the headboard hitting the wall a lewd and filthy symphony. Even better than your own moans were Logan's himself. Each and every groan and growl above you gave you a whole new array of things to imagine while fucking yourself- if you ever had to do so again. 
    You whine and whimper with every strong thrust, Logan slow and forceful with every movement. It felt like he wanted your insides to memorize exactly how his cock feels inside of you, and you doubt you'd ever mind it. He filled you perfectly, hitting every sweet spot inside of you.
    Your arms are shaking. Struggling to hold yourself up with each and every rock of the bed. You barely start to buckle when He catches hold of you, an arm snacking under your chest and pulling you towards him. His hand spans your collarbone as he holds your back against his chest, holding you up as he continues to fuck you like no one before. You're closing in on that sweet release when his hips stutter a moment. His teeth dig into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you there close to him without breaking the skin.
    “Are… are you -ah- close?” You ask. Logan only responds with a short and simple - “Fuck!” - before he pulls out of you.
    You don't have time to whine about the emptiness before he's flipping you around, kissing you again as he pushes your back to the bed rather aggressively. He's quick to sling your legs over his arms, folding you in half as he sides fully into you in a single thrust. He's hitting you so much deeper in this position, chest pressed against your own as his thrusts continue to stutter. 
    Logan kisses you again, a bit differently than the last ones have been. These kisses are tender, sweet. A stark difference between his needy, frantic thrusts. There's a line of spit between you two as he pulls away, half-lidded eyes meeting your own. You’re closing in on your peak, and you can tell he is too. The pleasure is too much for you to handle at once, and you can't help but squeeze your eyes shut.
    “Look at me.” Logan grabs a hold of your chin, your eyes flying open as he thumbs at your lip and holds your head still. “Don't look away.” His hips stutter some more, the both of you groaning as you clench around him, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you finally cum around his cock. The fluttering of your walls are more than enough to send Logan over the edge, his cum warming your insides in thick spurts. Logan buries his face into your neck, groaning as you ride out both of your orgasms.
    The two of you lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. Logan lets go of your sore legs, massaging your thighs as he presses sweet, comforting kisses to your cheek and temple. His hands wander up and down your sides, doing his best to soothe your aches without you even having to ask. -not that he would ever admit to having a soft side. Who would believe you if you told them that The Wolverine was a cuddler after sex anyway?
    “Why didn't you just tell me?” You ask after a long moment. Logan hums, his Face tucked into the crook of your neck.
    “Tell you what?”
    “That you were jealous.” Logan only snorts at that, playfully pinching your side.
    “Jealous of what? Your cologne?” He returns. You slap him on the shoulder as he chuckles at you, unable to stop the playful smile on your face.
    “You mean the cologne that you thought was a whole-ass guy?” Logan stops at that, instead choosing to cover your mouth with his palm as he tucks his head closer.
    “You're a lot prettier when you're quiet. You know that?”
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