#i don't enjoy school

[priceprime]

It's an addiction I can't shake.

The rumbling thunder of men

Talking the economy, the universe, the self.

Quoting Shakespeare and Socrates.

Tables I am welcome at as long as I am quiet,

As long as I am a friendly listening ear.

They are not so wise as they like to think

And yet I can't stop hunting their words

Cannot stop begging for approval.

I see the surprise in their eyes

When I open my mouth

And something profound falls out.

I can see it fade the next moment

When they decide it is an anomaly,

Because what else could it be

But a broken clock on it's twice daily anniversary.

I need it so badly

Even as it corrodes me.

But I am not my mother's little boy.

I am not her extraordinary daughter.

I need it so badly

And I'm too inhuman to have it.

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[swampybogg]

[bean-spring]

Jayvik Modern AUs are hilarious to me because my boy Jayce is NOT playing any sports. He is NOT a jock. He is a gymbro nerd who tries to get his rich sister to play DnD with him, spends his days at the chemistry lab, plays chess and one day he suddenly needs to help the football team covering for someone because people think he must like sports. He doesn't even get along with everyone. He tries, of course, but he isn't the golden boy until the extremely rich and popular girl, president of the student-council, goes all "Popular! You're gonna be popular!" Glinda on him until he becomes popular thinking he's doing something good for the school when he isn't and he's getting carried away by fame and parties when all he truly wants is being with his lab partner Viktor. At the end of the day, Arcane truly was just like High School tbh.

[erwinsvow]

you have this awful way of teasing him. logan doesn't like to be teased—at least not the way you do it.

all polite, sweet smiles when the room is filled with your peers and his students. they're not really his, but the feeling has stuck as of late.

logan shouldn't let you keep going. you're getting the wrong idea—thinking that this, whatever this is, can be something. something more than heated stares and heavy breaths. he's no saint—the thought has run through his head at least a hundred times a day.

how easy it would be to get you alone. to find an empty hallway and push you against the wall, keep one ear listening for footsteps and the other focused on how fast your heart is beating. it picks up everytime he's in the vicinity.

shit. when had he started zeroing in on you like this? it's not just your heart, it's your breathing too. hitched. if your breath is like that and your heart is racing, then what could be going on between your legs? he doesn't have to be a mind-reader to figure it out, but you're lucky anyways, that he's not. he might not be able to hold himself back.

not like you want him to. it's too obvious—if others haven't picked up on it yet, they're going to soon. your friends probably giggle with you late at night, help you perfect your plan to get the big, bad wolverine into the palm of your hand.

or maybe not—maybe you're quiet about it. maybe it's a running joke but nothing more, nothing shared with anyone except you and him. private, just between the two of you. looks that no one else understands, an ache that no one else feels. it doesn't make it less wrong, but it almost feels that way. like pining is supposed to help.

teasing certainly isn't the answer, not that you care. you're all pretty smiles, cocking your head and laughing sweetly, replying to something he said without caring about what he said. you ignore that part, electing to keep the conversation going even though he can't make it more obvious that what he really needs is for you to go.

you get closer, even when others prying eyes are still present. a hand on his arm, brushing up against him and then apologizing without any real sincerity behind it, even the way you rest your body against his doorframe, staring at him with teasing eyes. it's all you fucking do—tease, tease, tease.

logan would like to think some things about you haven't changed on his behalf. he pretends that maybe you always wore short skirts and tight tops, or that maybe you'd put them away for the winter and that's why they keep making appearances. but it's still cold out and somehow, the shortest and the tightest things are decked out just when he's around.

it's menacing. a girl as sweet as you shouldn't be capable of such devious things. the sliver of exposed skin between your white tank-top and your denim skirt, a place where his hand would fit perfectly. one touch and your entire body would get warm, he knows it—you wouldn't feel cold no matter what you're wearing or what month it is.

the way the hem of your sundress rides up when you take a seat next to him, legs crossing over and an endless expanse of smooth skin visible. all the way up to your upper thigh, any higher and he'd get a glimpse of panties—and what color would those be? matching? he can only think about it for a second until he snaps out of it. and when his gaze moves from your legs to your face, there's that smile again. devious. devilish.

you've been put on earth to torment him. he keeps trying to do the right thing—avoid you at every turn, lock doors if it means keeping you out. conversations are short and civil, no matter how much you both would prefer to keep them going.

it's just wrong. you're so young—you don't know any better. or maybe you do, and you choose to ignore it, but he can't do this too, on top of everything else. he has to get something right, and it's just your misfortune that this is the thing he's chosen to stay steadfast about.

because otherwise he wouldn't stand a chance. with every passing stare at your glossy lips and soft, pretty skin—skin that just so happens to be waiting for him to mark up—and clothes that are waiting to be torn off, bits and pieces of his resolve start withering.

you know what you're doing to him, and you don't stop. you don't plan on stopping until you've gotten what you want. yes, it's wrong, but there's not much in the world that's right anymore. you think you at least deserve this. and logan's a good sport—behind every closed door and curt word, his eyes reveal what his mouth won't. a simple truth known to both of you—that he wants you as badly as you want him.

it's a long game, one you're willing to play. you move the pieces same as usual—a shorter, tighter skirt here, a too-big tank top that leaves your straps somewhere on your arm there. conversations get a little longer, his stares get a little more heated, a little more aggressive. you can even hear him taking out his frustration on the punching bags instead of just giving in and taking them out on the object of his frustration.

but you're close—and if there's one thing that you are, besides a tease, is patient.

at half-past ten, all the kids are asleep. there's some older students scattered around the house, some upstairs and others watching tv, but you know your destination tonight, and where the occupant of a particular room is. the baggy button-up you'd put on over your dress, just to make it a little more appropriate for the day, was abandoned on the back of a kitchen chair. you made one stop to the fridge before heading up here—to logan's room.

patient you were, but a saint, you were not. there was only so much a girl could take. you knock twice, and without even realizing it, your heart rate picks up. it always does when logan's nearby, and then you curse under your breath. he might not open the door if he realizes it's you—but then again, who else would come knocking this late?

you hear it—a deep breath, footsteps getting closer. your back straightens automatically, biting your cheek in anticipation. when he opens the door, you beam up at him, knowing exactly what he's about to say.

"kid, you needa go t'bed-"

"i brought you something," you say, with another bright, sweet smile. you offer it to him with outstretched hands—two beers, still cold from the depths of the fridge you had buried them in, lest one of the kids saw them, or one of the jerks drank them.

"how'd ya even get these, huh?"

to anyone else, logan would look the same as he always did—gruff, angry, unforgiving. but you're not just anyone else. you noticed it—picked up on it immediately. the way the tension in his shoulder lessened, just barely. how his grimace softened. how the expression in his eyes betrays him—he sounds upset but he's really not. there's humor in them, sparkling back at you, because he thinks it's funny.

that you show up with beer this late. that you wear a dress you really, really shouldn't wear—the one he thinks of as his favorite, before trying to expel the damn thought entirely.

you roll your pretty eyes, pushing through the man blocking you. of course if he actually wanted to keep you out, he'd barely have to try. one push and you'd be on the other side of the wood, but like always, you know him.

"you do realize i'm not actually a kid, right? i can buy beer," you reply—and even your words, coated in humor and sarcasm, still come out sweet as sugar.

you couldn't be mean if you tried. logan can't be nice if he tried.

"yeah, yeah. c'mon kid, y'can't be in here this late-"

"late?" you repeat back at him, taking a seat on his bed. logan closes the door, wandering back over to where you're perched. you really shouldn't have sat down—not with how much he's pictured you under these very sheets. "don't be such a grandpa, logan. it's not even eleven yet."

"cuttin' a little close to your bedtime, huh?"

"ha-ha," you say dryly, holding one of the bottles towards him. "i didn't bring a bottle opener."

he takes it out of your hand, fingers brushing over each other for a second. it's nothing, twisting the cap off with his hand, tossing it somewhere to the side. you keep staring up, watching through fluttery lashes as he takes a long sip, enjoying the view a little too much. the cherry on top is the exhale logan takes after he finishes, fisting the beer bottle a little too tight.

"do you like it?" you ask quietly, heart thudding fast again. you suddenly hope he can hear it now, even clearer than before.

"yeah, kid." he takes a breath, and your eyes close for a second. "it's wrong." another breath, one from you this time. "shouldn't have beer in the house."

"yeah," you agree, eyes opening and taking him in again. you had planned everything perfectly, picked the best time to come. his flannel was flung on the bed next to you, nothing but the white wife-beater covering his chest. "nothing wrong with just once though, right?"

"kid-"

you stand up, much too close for comfort. your little pink dress looks even prettier like this, so close that he can almost feel the material. one strap has fallen—like they always do—but this time, your wish finally comes true. logan takes the strap between his thick fingers, sliding it up your arm and around to your shoulder, bringing it all the way up. even after it's secured, he doesn't let go.

his touch—barely present as it was, is enough to light your skin on fire. it's just as you thought it would be, and now all you want is more. your eyes shut again.

"i probably shouldn't tell you this," you start, and you hear logan groan—a soft noise, something that has imprinted into your brain forever. "but i really love it when you call me that."

"y'killing me, kid-" he says, all in one breath.

"what's it gonna take, hm? do you want the other beer? i brought both for you, i don't even like the stuff-"

he shuts you up by closing the space in between the two of you. logan's mouth is hot, hot just like the rest of him, blazing to the touch. huge hands wrap around your waist, bringing you in even closer, if it's even possible to be any closer. it's everything you dreamed it could be—the sheer intensity of how he kisses you, the way his tongue feels in your mouth, how hard he grips you. your hands find his shoulders, gripping on as hard as you can, nails digging in while you moan into his mouth. you should be quiet, anyone could hear, and yet, you keep going. and it's all of it at once, the taste of the beer and those cigars he loves so much. if they taste anything like this you might find yourself addicted to those too.

when he finally pulls away—and of course it's him that pulls away, you would stay attached forever if you could, and you plan to make it a reality—there's lines of spit between your mouthes, still connecting you. he wipes the corner of your lips with his thumb, and breathless you stare up at him.

your hand traces down his arm, all the way to his wrist and then his hand, resting just above his knuckles, running your soft fingers over them.

"logan," you breathe out, your heart as fast as he's ever heard it. "can i go lock the door?"

"yeah kid," he says, the gruffness in his voice something entirely new, laced with a desire and wanting you had only hoped to hear tonight. "go lock the door."

[benevolenterrancy]

@nekosammsi he chose the wrong place to get stage dressings

[dykeofmisfortune]

doing this thing i call "reading every class high school lit book i missed out on" partially because as an english minor i feel like a lot of ppl in my english lectures have already read these books in higschool partially because high school english classes suck balls and i think the way they taught kids to read books was lame and dumb as hell and killed love for reading and i think some of these books they make kids read should never be experienced in a classroom setting

[wispforever]

do you guys think kakuzu's ever really hard on himself bc of his time in the waterfall and then hidan just unknowingly is himself

bonus under the cut

[sunnymainecoonx]

I was. Geetiingb eepier. This. Finished at like. 3am guys😖 I didn't even wanna try making this. In. Like drawing in my actual art style

[qqueenofhades]

Y'all, I bought a new NOTEBOOK and a PLANNER. This is so exciting.

[raiiny-bay]

:-)

[hamofjustice]

nemona feels like an obscure blorbo instead of the main rival character from the latest pokemon game because to get to her really good content from people who really get it, you first have to wade through the ocean of yandere pervert obsessive stalker annoying punchable bimbo amazon goddess interpretations of...

... a neurodivergent and possibly disabled high schooler who's desperately trying to make any friends or get any support from her rich neglectful family - while everyone in her school is jealous of their own imagined version of a privileged asshole version of her they made up - who deeply and platonically loves and supports the one new kid who agreed to take the time to get to know and respect her and her special interest without having to hold back her true self

unlike her, it's not great!

kinda feels like she has the same problem in our world that she does in hers.

[superfandomlife]

First sketch in like, a really long time (almost a year wth, and I only did like one big drawing and one smaller drawing since then as well) and of course it's gotta be the High School Frenemy boys

[egophiliac]

so have you heard about the ride kamens app game? seems like it's gonna be a twisted wonderland like game with all the riders being hot anime guys now, and it's also gonna be written by yuya takahashi and produced by naomi takebe (apparently it was in development before geats), with designs by the person who did sk8 the infinity, so take that for what you will

have you ever gotten the feeling that a piece of media came into existence just to appeal to you specifically, or

(brb preregistering immediately)

(as far as I can tell you play as an agent who maintains a secret superhero base for riders in the basement of the rider-themed cafe that you run with your butler, and there's some other plot stuff going on but honestly I'm way past sold at this point, this sounds amazing)

[secriden]

So I watched the THK cast reaction/interview with English subs (credit: nellyyangyang on twitter), and...

They're so desperately trying to clarify that it's a romantic comedy ya'll. The number of times they keep saying "it's easy to swallow, no need to chew" and "you can watch without thinking" and "it's really simple". I wonder if this is pre-emptive because they can see online how many people are taking the trailer the wrong way and they don't want to get the backlash of disappointed fans?

Maybe the colours and aesthetic of the trailer is making people think it'll be serious? But like... ok has anyone else seen the 1996 Leonardo DiCaprio movie Romeo + Juliet? I feel like this is in the same vein where its simultaneously shot incredibly seriously with a very specific aesthetic and vibe, but also completely irreverent and satirical, but like earnestly so. (Which, ngl, if it IS that would be SO awesome; Romeo + Juliet is iconic for being so unhinged in the best way.)

[ourstaturestouchtheskies]

The School of Athens – Raphael (detail) // Official Football Program Cover for Syracuse University, 1920 Season – Syracuse University Athletic Association (detail) // So High School – Taylor Swift