#in ways that are embarrassing in retrospect

[bitchesgate3]

Someone needs to a write an Orin and Durge fic in the same style as the game "The Cult of the Lamb".

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Vanessa sucks at “flirting” with Mike

[bandtrees]

iv been doing a lot of ddadds reminiscing lately. that game is very very close to my heart and has been for years - it's kind of surreal to return to the fancontent i made for it having grown a bit, and seeing precisely why i latched onto mary as a character as much as i did. (hmm, the guy who'd just gotten out of a bad relationship and was also an unknowing aroace latched onto the character with relationship troubles and conflicts about presenting as someone in love, who would've thought?) (also she's autistic) (i'll still fight people on this)

mary still continues to be one of my favorite characters of all time - and i still have dream daddy to thank for a lot. it's just such a genuinely warm and sweet and funny game. it's got such a kind and lackadaisical approach to adulthood that spoke to and continues to speak to me a lot as someone kind of terrified of growing up, in a lot of ways. and despite being such a silly game, joseph's ideals of the "margarita zone" spoke to me way more than i care to admit.

i wonder if the people i'd shared ddadds servers with and the like, way back in 2019, are doing well. i wonder if the old friend i did that batshit insane mary-damien cult ending rp with that read like a damn slasher film remembers it at all. i hope the people i talked about my ocs with are doing well. i hope the mary rper i lurked on the blog of is doing well. i hope the person who made the official character spotify playlist knows how much they shaped my music taste and how much i listen to them to this day. i hope the developers of this game know it's more than a silly gimmick dating sim that was popular for a year to people. (i hope they know how much damn gender euphoria it gives me lol)

i'm a huge sap with my fandoms in general. but dream daddy's such a spot of comfort for me even now. i still think about it, and maybe one day i'll properly revisit it. and i know i'm going to be so insufferable about it when i do. my own special little margarita zone.

[wonder-worker]

A.J Pollard’s biography on Edward IV was so cringe lol (generic; minor but frustrating inaccuracies; intensely judgmental at times and oddly dismissive at others while never considering the broader context; entirely diminished and trivialized Elizabeth Woodville as both queen and wife of his main subject in the name of "defending" her; created a false dichotomy between Edward and Henry VII’s styles of ruling and lauded the latter at the former’s expense even though Henry literally followed Edward’s example for the very things Pollard was criticizing Edward for; had a downright nonsensical and thoroughly misleading conclusion about Edward’s legacy & Richard’s usurpation that was based entirely on hindsight, Pollard's own assumptions, and the complete downplaying Richard’s agency and actions to emphasize what Pollard wrongly and misleadingly claimed were Edward's so-called 'failings', etc, etc)

I wanted to buy his book on Henry V but after reading this shitshow and the synopsis of that book, im guessing it's going to be 10x worse, so...no thanks

[a-darling-thing]

I miss the community of being in a fandom, but boy I DO NOT miss the DRAMA!!!!

[pollenallergie]

do people with adhd have special interests? do we do that? cause i’ve been in my free willy shark week marine biology era for a solid decade now and like shit has not changed.

[giantbukonut]

jolts awake from a two week astarion induced stupor to think about sippybull for like fifteen seconds before slipping away yet again

[muckingup]

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

here’s my art retrospective for 2022 [as always, also on twitter].

ID and all the writing on these pages below the readmore:

PAGE ONE

[A yellow page. I’m on the left in a full-body drawing. I’m fat and lightskin with freckles and dark, short, curly hair and dark eyes. On this page I’m wearing a yellowish-orange long-sleeved shirt, an open blue button up shirt, and denim shorts with red shoes. I have wire-rimmed glasses on. A note next to me says “This would be one of my outfits if I was a comic book character.”]

[2022 is written on the top of the page with each number being a different color:   In December 2021 I saved up to buy an ipad and procreate, and I’ve talked before about how it’s genuinely revolutionized the way I’m able to draw.

My old setup was slow and glitchy. I couldn’t draw uninterrupted for half an hour. I’ve mentioned before that drawing with procreate felt like I was drawing digitally for the first time.

This meant I could draw faster and doodle. I could try new things, because I wouldn’t feel like I was wasting time if I didn’t like the end result.

[Two drawings are on the page: a drawing of yamcha, tien, and chiaotzu tending to farmland, and a drawing of tien and yamcha on a wooden staircase outside, enjoying a summer day. Both of these drawings have been posted to twitter before.]

I like both of these drawings but this one [the older one of tien, yamcha, and chiaotzu farming] has less refined rendering because I couldn’t take my time with it. That being said, it still took me 2 years to complete it.

In comparison, with my new setup this one [the summer day one] took 3 days to complete.

[a yellow post-it note is on the summer drawing. it says “I posted these one month apart.”]

[the page has stickers and colored pencil doodles on it. there is a holographic sticker of a sun, a holographic sticker of a strawberry, a doodle of a cloud and rainbow, a doodle of strawberries and a daikon radish, and stamps of green clovers on the page.]

PAGE TWO

[A black page. Dark red drops are on the page. My hair is up in a curly bun. I’m wearing clear glasses, vampire teeth, a wine-red button up shirt with a rose and leaf pattern on it, a black miniskirt, red fishnet tights, and black boots. A note next to me says “my outfit for a Halloween party. I was a vampire {an inexpensive costume lmao}”]

I applied to the Shortbox Comics Fair and didn’t get in. I kept flipping between “they don’t know what I’m capable of” and “if they don’t know what I’m capable of, that’s the fault of my portfolio.”

[A red post-it note shaped like a drop of blood is being held to the page by a glow-in-the-dark bat sticker. It says “I had to {and have to} prove to myself what I’m capable of. I’m still finding out!”]

I realized that I had fallen into a pattern of approaching each drawing as a puzzle or exercise instead of starting from a place of emotionality or imagination/excitement. It was like I was just proving over and over that I can render instead of feeling genuinely excited about any ideas I had. I was closed off to learning, and to allowing myself to feel things through my art.

[A timeline has been drawn on a piece of dark blue construction paper and taped to the page. A moon cut from roughly textured purple paper is glued to the timeline as well.]

I spent a lot of 2022 struggling with how I felt about art and creating.

Jan: “I don’t know how I’m feeling about art…”

Mar: “I’ve mended much of my relationship to art…”

Dec: “I’ve hit my personal limitation with art…”

Jan: “I’m more aware of the ways I can improve…”

Now, going into 2023 I feel a lot more solid about my relationship to art, even though I don’t know what the future holds.

[A drawing of ??? mob in a field of flowers as a storm cloud approaches is taped to the page. There’s a post-it note on the drawing that says “This drawing was a critical turning point. When I looked at it I realized how much I was just focused on rendering individual things and not focusing on the whole.”]

[Hot pink dots of glitter glue and blue sparkles drawn with colored pencil are all throughout the page.]

PAGE THREE

[A bright lime green page. Abstract deco stickers in shades of pink, purple, and blue scatter the page. There are also a couple of holographic heart stickers. There are scribbles of glitter from a pen or glitter glue in some of the corners of the page. I’m wearing a pink top with long flow sleeves and a bright apple green pleather skirt, hot pink giant fishnet tights, and olive green platform boots. A note near me says “Birthday outfit!” A note near my boots says “Chunky heels are easier to walk in.”]

[A few drawings have been taped on the page in a row. They are a drawing of Tien, a drawing of Chabago {an OC}, and Mob standing in front of a cobblestone half-wall. Each picture has more complex values than the last.]

Last year I learned more about values. I’ve been thinking more about composition. I plan to keep learning.

[A piece of a pink page of lined paper has been taped on the page. It says “I want to choose expressiveness over complete control EVERY TIME.” Two drawings have been taped on top of the piece of pink paper. They are a drawing of Mob bathed in purple light and standing in front of a large orange cloud with a note that says “still my fav art piece from 2022” and a page of drawings of Emi and Mob from the mp100 mini fan book with a not that says “another fav.”]

[There is a light blue sticky note that says “If a piece of art teaches me something, I save it.”]

[There is a post-it note that looks like a slice of green apple. On it is a list of things I want to do.]

I WANT TO…

… make a short comic!

… participate in a zine!

… buy lots of people’s art!

… go to a con!

… open commissions!

… do an art trade!

AND FIND THE ART I LOVE TO MAKE WHERE IF I DON’T MAKE IT, NO ONE ELSE WILL!

[Underneath the apple post-it note is another slip of lined pink paper with a short list about how I process the way I choose to draw things.]

I PROCESS DRAWING THROUGH 3 STEPS:

The way I think something looks

The way the thing actually looks

The way the thing makes me feel.

[A light blue piece of paper has been taped onto the bottom corner of the page. It says “Working harder/more doesn’t necessarily mean you’re making better work.”]

PAGE FOUR

[This page is light blue and says 2023 in pink and white lettering at the top of the page. Gold star stickers and forget me not stickers are across the page, as well as stamps of purple hearts. I’m on the right of the page, wearing a loosely checkered white and blue dress, a being pullover, and brown boots, with a brown and tan bag. A note near me says “Going to the art museum with my best friend <3”]

[A white post it note in the shape of a flower is stuck to the top left corner of the page. It’s a list of things I want to draw more of.]

Things I want to draw more of…

Bicycles, cafes, telephones with long curly wires, pools and the beach, tennis and table tennis, fountains, trains, busses, subways, birds, bells!

[A piece of kraft paper is taped to the page with pink tape. It says “I’ve been doing more to listen to the inner voice of childlike excitement about drawing. It’s nice because that voice is also more honest about when it’s time to take a break. I want to think more about what I want from art, not just drawing.”]

[In the corner, “I’m starting to feel more comfortable with the idea of sharing personal work” is written in pink glitter gel pen.]

[There is a piece of cream-colored paper shaped like a cloud taped to the page with pink tape. It says “New Art Practices” in multi-colored colored pencil with a rainbow drawn in colored pencil underneath.]

New Art Practices:

Draw more compositionally different thumbnails for each drawing I do

Work on compositions and understanding of color, line weight, lettering, inking etc. for storytelling

Render my thumbnails more thoughtfully to facilitate clearer understanding of my concepts and ideas

[Above the cloud paper is a drawing of Mob standing in a field as a warm wind blows. It’s the cover of the mp100 mini fan book. It’s framed by a cream-colored doily. A cream-colored circle of paper is stuck to the drawing by a glittery pink heart sticker. The circle of paper says “ The thing I’m proudest of from 2022 is the fan book I made. I drew all the pictures in one day, then colored them on the 2nd day. I think the quick turnaround stopped me from overthinking, and I felt a great sense of freedom within the process. Still, I wonder what I could make with a week or a month.”]

And if you read all of this, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

[y2kbugs-moved]

Getting tired of that post about Viktor’s appearance to be honest, it was never very well worded in the first place and it might come off as weird idk

[lindwurmkai]

I will never forget the time I heard someone make fun of the guy I had a crush on by saying "he's probably asexual or something" while I was sad because I knew for a fact that he wasn't, so I figured I had no chance with him since he'd want sex and I didn't.

They unknowingly chose the most ironic insult possible, from my perspective

[phagodyke]

it was one of my coworkers birthdays today and she was telling me abt her plans to celebrate and I'm only just realising now that I've left work that she was prolly trying to invite me.. 🤦‍♀️

[composing-the-future]

i hope clemm is doing ok, his blog doesnt seem to be there anymore

[idiopathicsmile]

School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy

So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)

What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”

Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.

The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.

Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!

So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.

I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.

A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.

‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.

Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.

Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.

Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.

“It didn’t have any words,” she said.

(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)

Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.

I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.

[yuanology]

m!reader fingering afab!geto while being 100% aware gojo's watching through the crack of the door so he decides to show gojo how sensitive his friend is and geto ends up squirting?? (lowkey embarrassed i wrote this, but yknow ignore it if you want😅)

what the Fuck .

gojo satoru was not a virtuous man. far from it, in fact. as a self-made god, satoru existed on a plane far above morality and whatever other human concept was created to define right and wrong. within infinity and the insurmountable power residing in it, there was only the man who wielded it and the humanity confining it.

even so, satoru still knew deep within his heart—the trembling, still beating thing residing underneath the constricts of his ribs—that he should not be doing this; that he should not be staying.

but satoru was not a virtuous man, and so he stayed.

because there, past the thin crack of the door, was his best friend—the same one he had known from childhood, the same one who had walked with him through the ins and outs of darkness—with his clothes stripped clean, thrown messily around the room, both of his feet planted flat on the bed, and his back arching off the mattress in a pleasured arch. between his legs, slick and heavy with evidence of his own debauchery, stood you—fully dressed, only the first two buttons of your collar open.

satoru knew of you. it was impossible not to. you were older than the both of them. when they were freshly entering their first year, you'd already matured where you existed in your third one. satoru himself had barely spared you a glance but in retrospect, he did remember suguru mentioning once or twice that he was training with you on the side.

fuck, satoru thought, dazed. if he had known this was what 'training' involved, he would have listened a bit better on what suguru had to say about you.

because you were holding his thighs apart, well-practiced fingers relentlessly pushing past suguru's slick folds, producing the loudest squelching noises. satoru couldn't see very well from this angle, but he could hear the sounds his best friend was making; fucked up and high-pitched, whiney in a way satoru had never heard him speak before.

suguru cried out your name, breathless and panting. "please," he was begging you, sounding close to tears. "please, no more."

you leaned in, mouth brushing over suguru's chest as you whispered your response. satoru couldn't hear you, even as his ears strained to catch a wisp of your words. but whatever it was, it must not be good because suguru is letting out a loud whine, one the turned into the strangled beginnings of a scream when satoru noticed that you had begun to pick up pace.

oh my god.

just as satoru took the first hesitant half step backwards, swaying in place, he hears your drawled out voice—cutting, brave, unyielding.

"now, where do you think you're going, satoru?"

satoru stiffened, and he realised that he wasn't the only one. suguru did, too—his body locking up as a new flush crawled across his skin. satoru had half the mind to apologise to his best friend in his head, a chant of i'msorryi'msorryi'msorryi'msuchashittyfriend looping in his head as if it could forgive him for not only being a pervert, but also for intruding on his best friend's secret.

satoru cleared his throat. he wanted to make an excuse, to apologise, but all that could tumble out of his throat was a hoarse, "um."

suguru let out a high whine at the sound of satoru's voice, as if he was spurred on by his audience. his back arched, his mouth parting as a deep sound escaped him. satoru watched, mesmerised, as the muscle on suguru's body rippled at the motion, your hands never once faltering in its ministrations.

"come here for a minute, satoru." your voice was calm, collected and almost clinical. as if you didn't practically have your entire fist buried in between suguru's slick folds, your thumb nudging at where satoru guessed must be suguru's clit if suguru's high pitched whimpers were anything to go by. "i need your opinion on something."

satoru swallowed thickly as he was drawn into the room, his motions dumb as if he was a mere puppet on your string. as he moved closer, he realised that there was more to the scene that he couldn't earlier see from his post by the door.

suguru's cunt was fucking drooling, slick dripping all over the place as his hips canted in the air as if to escape and to move closer to the pleasure. his hole would no doubt he gaping if you pulled your hand out, hungry for more. your thumb covered his clit wholly, rubbing at it mercilessly.

satoru felt himself twitching in his pants, throat working around the words stuck in his lungs.

"what do you need?" satoru asked, his voice wrecked. he would be embarrassed by it if it wasn't promptly drowned out by the sound of suguru's choked out noises.

without thinking, satoru moved a hand to rest on suguru's thigh, at the sight of his best friend in distress. he didn't realise what a great mistake it was until suguru did a full body shudder, a ragged gasp leaving him. satoru couldn't fucking breathe.

clearly, you didn't share the same sentiment because you were speaking again. "suguru wants me to stop, but i personally think he can come one more time," you said casually, as if this was a common conversation to have with just about anyone.

suguru let out a weak whimper, pathetic and desperate in a way satoru never knew him to be, at the sound of your words. you must have been trying to convince him about this for a while then.

stiffly, satoru nodded, not quite knowing how to react. "okay," he said dumbly.

he wasn't looking at you, too entranced by the sight of suguru with his legs spread wide open and his messy cunt being on full display, but he could hear the smile in your voice when you said, "well, what do you think? can he come one more time?"

satoru opened his mouth, a half-baked answer on the tip of his tongue, when he was interrupted by the sound of suguru's babbling.

"no. no, please. no more." there were tears in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks prettily, satoru noticed. suguru looked a mess, his hair a halo around his head and his hips lifted in the air as if he was nothing more than a cheap whore. satoru thought he was beautiful. "please. i can't. don't make me. please, please, please, pl—"

his words promptly turned into a loud scream, half-pained and half-pleasured, and satoru's head whipped around to look at the source of it. he swallowed thickly when his eyes dropped from suguru's face to his engorged clit, where your thumb was no longer rubbing at but rather, your earlier free hand was now gently tugging at the hood over it.

holy shit, satoru thought, his head spinning. because he just watched you pinch suguru's clit. you pinched suguru's clit. judging from the nonchalance of your gesture and the way suguru didn't try to fight back, instead canting his hips higher, this was something that you did often.

satoru was going to die. holy shit.

"shh, suguru," you reprimanded, silencing suguru's desperate sobs with a gentle pat to his thigh. suguru sniffled, but he stopped letting out those depressing sounds. "it's not you i'm talking to."

suddenly reminded that he owed you the debt of an answer, he blurted out an answer before he could think twice. "he can," satoru replied. "he's an overachiever, the dumbass. he can come another time."

suguru let out a loud sob at his answer, one that sounded a lot like betrayal.

satoru couldn't properly apologise to him, though, because your lips were curling into a sharp grin, looking like a cat who caught the canary, and satoru couldn't help but think that maybe, he was just in as big of a trouble as suguru was. maybe, with his answer, satoru had condemned not just his best friend, but himself as well.

you pulled your hand out of suguru with a lewd squelch, one that made satoru flush all the way to the roots of his hair—and oh god, he hadn't even realised he could burn up even more—and the way that suguru whimpered, both devastated and relieved by the loss, wasn't helping.

you took a step backwards, letting suguru's body drop onto the mattress. you gestured towards the now empty space between suguru's thighs. "on your knees, satoru. hands behind your back."

satoru couldn't do anything but comply. he dropped to his knees, his hands behind his back and his eyes now at level with suguru's fucked out cunt. holy shit. suguru was twitching, his pretty clit engorged and swollen from the earlier abuse and fucking pierced apparently. satoru exhaled sharply at the sight, his breath fanning across suguru's folds, and earning himself a short, aborted whine from suguru. oh my god.

satoru almost flinched when he felt your hand card through his hair, tangling your fingers into the strands as he guided your face closer to suguru's gushing pussy. "go on," you ordered him, your voice gentled by the sound of melodious laughter. "eat him."

thank you for the meal, satoru thought dazedly as his face was guided closer and closer, until he was buried in suguru's cunt and lapping up the taste of his best friend.

the response was immediate—suguru's thighs started quivering on either side of satoru's head, moving to rest on satoru's shoulders and pulling him in as if to suffocate him. satoru didn't mind, taking that as an unspoken order to start eating his best friend out like his life depended on it.

he didn't bother with hesitating or testing the waters. he licked a broad strip up the length of suguru's cunt, dipping in between his folds to gather the slick there at the centre of his tongue. satoru moaned at the taste, and he was immediately greeted by the feeling of suguru's walls squeezing around him as suguru met him with his own weak whimper.

"suguru's already sensitive." that was you again. there was notable amusement in your voice. "want me to help you make him come faster?"

satoru should say no. he wanted to stay buried in suguru's cunt forever, eating his best friend out until he was shaking all over the place. he wanted to make his best friend feel so good that he stopped being satoru's suguru and instead started becoming your suguru with satoru instead.

but he could hear his best friend's pleas even above the sound of his pounding heartbeat, the sound of suguru's suffering, and he couldn't let this keep going for much longer.

he nodded, the bridge of his nose bumping over suguru's clit in the process. suguru's thighs squeezed around him, a whimper escaping, and satoru quickly drew circles on suguru's hips in apology.

you, on the other hand, didn't seem to have the same courtesy as you told him, "suck on his clit, then open your jaw wide."

satoru obeyed even though he didn't really understand why you were telling him to do that, knowing that you likely understood suguru's body more than he did in this matter.

he pursed his lips around suguru's clit, sucking on it firmly, before he let his jaw drop open.

oh.

oh, holy fuck.

because suguru was squirting directly into his mouth, making a mess out of the lower side of his face, and satoru could only kneel there, his mouth wide open as he swallowed all of his best friend's slick juices. his head was light, and he couldn't breathe—both from the suffocation and the fact that geto suguru, his best friend, his one and only, just fucking squirted into his mouth.

when suguru finally let him free, thighs unlocking from around his head and limply falling onto the edge of the bed. satoru leaned back, unable to process what just happened, when he heard you speak again.

"don't forget your manners, suguru."

it was quiet for a moment, then he heard the small, almost shy, voice of his best friend. "thank you, satoru," suguru mumbled.

"you're welcome," satoru replied, his voice sounding fucked over. he couldn't correct himself just yet, though, his head still reeling.

he was still on his knees as he watched you rearrange suguru on the bed, peppering soft kisses onto his face and his collarbone and his chest in stark contrast to the way you had treated him earlier. there was the lull of soft conversation passing between the both of you, one that satoru didn't try being a voyeur of.

he was content with just kneeling there, his head filled with cotton and static. he didn't even bother with touching himself, still too entranced by the feeling of this all happening.

finally, your footsteps drew close to him. he tilted his head as he watched you approach him. you cupped his chin, tilting his head back to meet your gaze.

"messy," you noted, but the corners of your mouth were quirked into a smile. "but suguru's always been messy." satoru didn't have any response to that, so he simply nodded stupidly. somehow, that must be the right answer because you laughed.

you took a step back, taking a seat onto the edge of the bed. satoru's eyes tracked your movement almost curiously. he frowned when you patted your lap, as if you were expecting something from him.

"over my knee," you said. "i think fifteen should do. usually, i'd give more, but i'm assuming you're new to the scene, hm? don't forget to count."

satoru blinked dumbly. he stayed rooted on his knees. "what?" he asked hoarsely.

you raised a brow at him. "oh, satoru," you said, your voice placating. "did you really think that i was going to let you go unpunished just like that? over my knee. fifteen spanks and i want you to count."

when he still did nothing, your gaze darkened and your voice grew firm. "now, satoru."

oh, satoru thought smartly.

swallowing thickly, he moved to comply.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: fratboy!seungcheol, smut, f reader, public grinding, penentrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys <3), oral (f receiving), etc

wc: 1584

a/n: not proofread </3

masterlist

fratboy!seungcheol who tends to not participate much in the parties his frat throws every week under the vice of 'keeping things in order' (whatever that means) and making sure none of his frat members get into trouble. despite no one ever asking him to, he gives himself the responsibility of watching over the parties without ever allowing himself to have any fun, claiming he's not interested in any drinking games nor has anyone ever caught attention anyways.

after multiple fruitless attempts from the boys to introduce him to girls or get him to stop stressing himself out over keeping his frat's reputation intact, cheol seems adamant in being a strict leader and giving himself the burden of keeping things afloat. that is, of course, until someone finally walks through the door and catches him completely off guard, causing him to forget any of his previous self-assigned duties.

he thinks he might've seen you before, but he cant be too sure. these parties tend to blend together for him, having always stuck to watching over his members and never having time to mingle on his own. he didn't care where he'd seen you before, though. he only cared to make sure he'd see you again soon. it had been a while since he'd approached a girl, not knowing very well what to do and just sticking to watching you have fun with your friends while he nursed a drink, back leaning against the wall. until his thoughts of you are rudely interrupted.

"could it be? choi seungcheol has his eyes on somebody?" it was yoon jeonghan, the second in command after seungcheol.

"what are you talking about," he asked, eyes still glued to your dancing figure from afar.

"like her? thats cute. wanna know her name?", now that peeked his interest.

"you're bluffing."

"promise i'm not. scout's honor," the younger made a cross across his chest as he said this.

"you were never a scout."

"same difference. wanna know or not?"

cheol hesitated, not wanting his friend's involvement in his first romantic endeavor in a while. he turned back to look at you, your pretty figure molded by your dress and your smile blinding him and made up his mind.

"fine"

~

y/n. that was your name. pretty name for a pretty girl, he thought. he hadn't ended up talking to you that night, chickening out at the thought of embarrassing himself due to lack of practice. instead he chose an easy and safe alternative; to keep a watch for you whenever his frat threw a party, which to be fair was quite often.

he'd watch you from afar, enjoying the varying dresses you'd wear to his parties, loving the way they stuck to the shape of your body. he didn't do much further than that. he felt like a bit of a creep, just watching you without letting his gaze be known, but the fantasy he was building of you in his head had him grow more and more in need of you every time he saw you. the thrill within him kept building up. he knew that one of these days he'd snap and finally talk to you, maybe even bring you to bed.

in retrospect, seungcheol should've realized that you'd eventually notice the brooding man atop the stairs watching you through the night. but he hadn't thought that far, simply enjoying the pretty sight, finally resting from his duties as leader.

you'd noticed him since day one, having one of your friends point him out while he was distracted speaking to your old lab partner jeonghan, letting you know of the guy whose eyes wouldn't leave your form. you weren't sure at first which of the two she'd been pointing at, but you hoped it was the man you knew as seungcheol, the head of the frat. you found both men very handsome, but something about seungcheol's demeanor immediately called your attention. you were happy to confirm, only a few minutes later, that the man who couldn't keep his eyes off you was the same brooding man you'd hoped. but it didn't stop there. you continued to notice his undivided attention on you every time you stepped into the frat, always making sure to wear something that would give him a reason to keep staring, occasionally throwing him suggestive looks of your own.

eventually you grew tired of this one-sided game of cat and mouse, wanting the real thing and not just the thoughts you had of him as he unknowingly gave you 'fuck me' eyes. it was only a few parties later that you decided to take action, wearing the dress you looked most fuckable in and walking through the fraternity's doors, determined to not come back home the next morning.

you danced for a bit, stopping for a few drinks every once in a while. you also threw him some looks of your own this time, making sure to catch his eyes every once in a while. you made sure to drink enough to be tipsy, but not too much that you wouldn't have full control of you scheme.

scheme was putting it lightly, really, seeing as you didn't really have much of a plan. how were you supposed to get him to fuck you without straight up propositioning yourself to him? no, you wanted to have at least a little bit of class. except things didn't go exactly as you'd planned, not that you were complaining.

he threw you a bit of a curveball, really. you hadn't expected him to approach you first, seemingly finally growing the balls to make direct contact. you'd been dancing, as you had been all night. you'd get the occasional guy or girl who would try and match your energy, dancing up on you. you were buzzed, so you didn't mind, usually just lightheartedly following along. what you hadn't expected was for one of those people to be seungcheol himself. you hadn't realized it was him at first, almost cussing him out when he'd started to get a little too close, usually setting up a clear limit when dancing with strangers, specially at a frat party. before you could say anything, though, he spoke up against your ear.

"been watching you. wanted to get you alone."

"what took you so long?", you whispered back, pressing your back closer to his front, if it was even possible.

he ground against you, making you gasp at what you felt against your ass. you felt a little flustered, having him shamelessly feel you up as you ground against each other in the middle of the frat's living room, surrounded by drunk people.

"aw, did i keep you waiting?" he coo'd sarcastically, keeping his arms wrapped around you.

damn him.

"yes. and you still are .. don't you have a room here somewhere?", you finally turned around to face him, almost gasping at the proximity. he was even prettier up close; so big and buff.

he looked down at you, eyes alternating between your eyes and lips, "follow me."

those were the last coherent words spoken between you, now unable to form any coherent sentence as he, for lack of a better term, fucked you into the mattress.

you'd never done this before; have such animalistic sex without a second thought, but the buildup between you and seungcheol had been long and grueling, having left you wanting him for weeks.

so now you were here, back arched deliciously as his cock hit you repeatedly in THAT spot that made you cry into the sheets beneath you.

"s-shit. fuck, baby. so fucking tight. so pretty for me."

"ch-cheollie, FUCK"

"been wanting you f-for weeks. thought about bruising these pretty hips. had me going fucking crazy wearing those dresses, shit."

"for y-you! did it for you," you cried out as he sped up, making you drop to your elbows, burying your face against the sheets, "wanted you to come fuck me .."

"i know, baby. shit. n im gonna fuck you all night. gonna fuck you to sleep, n then im gonna fuck you again tomorrow. gonna drag you to my room e- fuck. every time i see you at one of these parties."

he sped up even more, slapping his hips against your ass as you cried out for him.

"need you to be good n cum for me, yeah? gonna fill you up, promise. just need you to coat my cock with your cream, okay pretty?"

his words contrasted his harsh demeanor as he pounded into you mercilessly, only increasing the strength of his thrusts after claiming your orgasm, now desperately chasing after his.

"g-gonna cum, baby. fuck! in-inside? can i, baby? let me fill you up, let m-"

"yes! inside, please!"

he quickly reached his high after that, feeling you tighten up at the mention of cumming inside and filling you up with a groan. you finally let yourself fall on your face against the mattress, exhausted at your previous ministrations with seungcheol.

he didn't bother cleaning you up, simply flipping you around and dragging you to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you before speaking up again, "we're not done, baby. i said all night, remember?"

those were the last words spoken before he dove in, nose first into your pussy as he sucked and licked like a madman, making you delirious at the pleasure. overstimulated, but loving the feeling, you prepared yourself for a very long night, and possibly morning too.

[izufeels]

⁝ KATSUKI BAKUGOU !

description: as model! momo’s PA, you have a lot of interesting interactions

content warning: meet-cutes; flirting; no one really likes katsuki; stress y/n

You don’t hate your job. Actually, you really like your job. You like Momo and her friends, you like flying to different countries every week— even if that means you can’t ever make your own plans— and you especially like the money.

What you don’t like, is the hours upon hours spent in a sketchy warehouse with no air conditioning. Which, in retrospect, isn’t the worst place Momo has had a shoot, but it’s definitely the most unbearable.

You’re surrounded by models, obviously, and their own overly-snobby PA’s— whom you’d probably rather die than talk to.

And it’s hot. Insufferably hot. Triple digits hot. You regret wearing your hoodie and you regret not wearing a shirt under it even more.

You would say something to Momo, but she’s in front of a white backdrop with her arms draped over Shoto Todoroki— world famous model and your second favorite nepo baby.

And then your phone buzzes. You tear your eyes away from Momo and Shoto, looking down at your phone. “Oh,” you whisper, standing up from your chair. The notification is from DoorDash— Momo’s matcha latte has arrived.

So you get up without excusing yourself— because the people around you wouldn’t care anyway. You walk to the door, get the drink, and make your way back to your seat.

And, because you’re so engrossed in your phone, you don’t see the man headed straight for you and you slam directly into the front of him. The matcha latte spills down his torso and you’re frozen in fear.

You’re not looking up at his face yet— too mortified— but you can tell he’s a model just from the compression shirt and washboard abs that the drink is covering.

Imagine your surprise when you look up and see the Katsuki Bakugou standing in front of you.

Katsuki Bakugou; famous Japanese model, nepo baby and world class asshole. Or, so you’ve heard. You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting him, only listened to Momo and her friends bitch about him.

But, looking at him now, he’s kind of cute. Okay, he’s more than cute, he’s hot. His jawline is chiseled and his eyes are a dangerous shade of red that makes you want to commit atrocities not yet heard of.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t even watching where I was going and- oh my god. This is so embarrassing. I’m so sorry. I- oh my god.”

He looks down at his shirt, annoyance flickering across his face for less than a second before disappearing. His eyes narrow but, somehow, you can tell there’s no heat behind them. “S’fine,” he mumbles, sighing.

The silence is awkward for several seconds when, finally, you manage to open your mouth. “I um, I can pay for your shirt,” you offer, voice soft. “Like uh, for dry cleaning and stuff. Because, you know… I- I ruined it.”

He looks down at his shirt again as if he’d forgotten about the giant stain. A small chuckle bubbles up from his chest and he shakes his head, looking back at you. “Nah, don’t bother. Ain’t the first time this has happened.”

“What?” You furrow your brows and tilt your head. “You’ve had multiple girls spill matcha latte on your shirt because they were too busy scrolling on Instagram?”

He snorts, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Not exactly,” he chuckles. “but I’ve had people spill way worse on me. So, a little green liquid is like a walk in the park.”

You sense the eyes on you. You can hear the whispers. But, at this moment, it’s just you two. His red eyes staring into your own. “I’m Y/n,” you say, sticking your hand out. “Momo’s PA.”

He regards your hand with a blank stare, like he isn’t sure why it’s being extended to him, but, eventually, he takes it. His hand is so much bigger than yours and a shock runs the length of your arm as his palm meets yours. He grips you a little tighter than necessary. “Katsuki.”

“You’re a model, right?” You already know the answer, but you don’t want the conversation to end.

For some reason, your question makes Katsuki preen. He puffs his chest out slightly, clearly proud of the fact that you actually know who he is, and nods. “And a damn good one,” he says, a smirk finding its way onto his lips.

You open your mouth, but Momo’s voice cuts through the air and makes you turn. “Y/n!” she exclaims, briskly walking over to you. “Hey, are you okay? Is he bothering you?” she turns to him and narrows her eyes. “Why are you harassing her? I’ll pay for the shirt, for fucks sake. Go away.”

The smirk slides off his face in a heartbeat. He shoots your friend a glare and opens his mouth to respond. “I’m not harassing her,” he growls. “She ran into me like a dumbass. Dropped her own drink. Not my fault.”

“W- well it’s not really my drink-” you gasp and your eyes widen once more. “Momo! Oh my god, your drink! I’m so sorry! I spilled it everywhere!”

She holds up a hand and shakes her head, stopping you from delving into a second round of apologies. “It’s fine,” she says, shooting a sharp glare at Katsuki. “I just hope he didn’t give you too much trouble. Come on, let’s go. I’m done here anyway.”

tags; @sazankahanei @mimidonottouch