#maw app

[all-i-do-is-live-in-daydreams]

SCREAMING WITHOUT THE S

[notquitehuman-creations]

ratossum maw

[exploding-goobery]

Oh shoot I have a tumblr

transphobic music fans be listening to he or she might be giants

[unadventurousjulie]

Wishing whoever made that fishdom ad, and also whoever decided it should constantly show up on every app I use, tumblr included, a very I hope you step on legos. Forever.

Sincerely, very afraid of the ocean and deep sea-creatures

[projectthauma]

this is a post letting maw know yang xiao long's app has been amended!

[screampied]

‘ IT'S A MATCH: LAST FRIDAY NIGHT ! ,

profile. girl, matching with your best friend on tinder is pretty awkward. hooking up with him, even more awkward. wanna know what’s even worse though? saying that word—i love you.

wc 4.9k

warnings. fem! reader, modern au, humor, size kink, mutual pining, loser boy gojo, unprotected, cheesy pick up lines, praise, touch starved satoru, cunnìlingus, overstim, créampie, i felt silly ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

an. old old draft ;') based on the song last friday night. damn!

“mannn i’m so cooked,” gojo murmurs to himself, pacing back and forth. he’s dragging his feet against the silkened strands of the carpet before a soft pout spreads across his lips. “she left me on delivered for seven minutes…… seven.”

to be fair, in actuality you did. only because you were occupied with doing your hair. gojo being gojo was freaking out, thinking you were probably uninterested. albeit, once you finally did reply, his heart nearly fell out of his chest.

‘how does 7 pm sound?’

‘soid@:$:@) good’

‘um what?’

gojo mentally smacks his forehead, stupidly mashing on his keyboard, barely even letting a second go by once you responded. he was way too eager, he intakes a sharp breath before smiling — replying with a cheesy thumbs up.

he had the dumbest grin plastered on his face. after his best friend, you, advising him to give dating apps a try, he actually does. gojo matched with a lot of women not even minutes after installing the app onto his phone. how coincidental that the main person who caught his attention was you, the both of you matched and he made sure to text you first.

who knew though. that you’d be matching with the one and only satoru gojo. definitely not you, and of course, not him.

despite what everyone said, gojo was a bit of a womanizer, sure. but he was also a huge hopeless romantic.

he started fooling around on dating sites . . not looking for love necessarily but mainly to pass time. you mentioned it to him and he decided to give it a try.

pretty soon, time flew by quick. with a quick snap, it was just about to hit six o’clock pm.

gojo threw on grey sweats and ruffled up his hair a bit. he couldn’t lie to himself, first date and he felt a bit nervous. who was he kidding though, you told him to come to your apartment.

probably wouldn’t end up being a date, but still.

he read through your bio about three times, and your personality stood out to him.

you and him surprisingly had the same interests in lots of things, you loved sweets, and loathed scary movies. “…she’s so perfect,” he’d utter to himself, just imagining the sound of your sweet voice.

gojo abruptly snaps out of his thoughts—he didn’t want be too late, so with a quickness, he starts to make his way to your house.

with hands buried in his pockets, he gives a few hard knocks on the front of your door. about approximately nine seconds later, you open the door and his maw instantly drops. “y-you?”

“hey, y—satoru?” you mimicked the same reactions

the silence was practically deadly.

the two of you stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before you furrow your eyebrows. “satoru,” you mumble, bringing a hand towards your face to rub your forehead. “…you matched with me on purpose, didn’t you?”

“wha— noooo!” he protests, a cute pout tugging against the corners of his lips. he obviously did. you eyed him from head to toe. whilst his hands were buried into his pockets, you could tell that you made him a bit nervous. a light tint of color started to flush against his cheeks before he pulls on his sweater. “heh, is it gettin' hot in here or is it just me.”

“oh my god,” you suddenly spoke. “no wonder you didn’t have a profile picture,” and then you give him an abrupt glare. “satoru. why’d you even use the kfc logo as a profile picture anyway? idiot.”

“oh— it’s a long story.”

you deadpan, mentally face palming yourself.

gojo takes a good look at you, and he’s got a sudden sheepish grin. “woah,” he utters, and his eyes linger for a long time. he’s never seen you dress in such a formal pretty way. he felt a sudden heat rush to both sides of his face before without thinking, he murmurs. “you look kinda hot.”

“kinda? now i’m offended.” you scoff, tugging on your fishnets.

“all you’re getting from me,” he fake pouts. he then comes closer, closer . . all until he’s just inches apart.

one look at your dress and he just wanted to rip it off. you and him were so attached to the hip, he’s never expected to see you in this kind of light. if you were being honest, his gaze that ran against your entire figure made you a bit nervous.

throughout your long term friendship with gojo, he was known to be flirty every now and then. you figured that was just his personality but perhaps he started to view you different. “so,” he shrugs, bending down to your level as a way of mockery, “is this the part where we hook up?”

“well technically, yeah—” and you look right into his eyes.

he was just undressing you with eyes practically, cerulean bright irises roaming down your body before he hums. “…..oh,” and he awkwardly scratches his head. “so do i make the first move or—”

“you’re such an idiot. just kiss me, ‘toru.”

he snickers, and after what seemed like forever, gojo leans in for a kiss.

he was so pretty, he didn’t even have to try. long fluttering lashes that matched his snowy white strands flap closed. gojo tasted sweet, the moment his lips went against yours, you sink into his embrace. he was surprisingly a good kisser, not that you ever kissed your best friend or anything—but for some reason, it felt so warm.

so natural…

your heart, it starts to pick up a bit and your arms wrap around his broad shoulders.

gojo let off a soft grunt, your sweet aromatic perfume wafts right into his flared up nostrils. you shiver a bit, feeling his hands slowly drag up your body. minty, a good way to describe the brief taste that loiters on his breath. he was always chewing peppermint—an unserious guy with a sweet tooth, although this time maybe his sweet tooth was for you instead of casual sweets.

the kiss was passionate, you almost forgot you were literally making out with your best friend.

you did dream a bit about this moment, him holding you all close with his lips mashed against yours. his hand continue to wander, such big hands compared to yours. you slide your tongue against his before parting your lips just a bit further.

“….mhm,” he’d huff out in a muffled groan, and he made sure to focus his hands near your hips. his fingers brush against the thin fabric of your dress before he gives it a hasty yank.

steamy breaths collide against each other whilst each second passes—eventually, gojo’s leading you toward your bedroom.

no bother in asking you where everything was since he technically knew the layout of your house like the back of his hand. “wanted to do this for so long,” he finally speaks in shortened breaths—he’s panting, and you let off a soft gasp once he lifts you up. instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist and he slyly smiles. “you should really clean this place,” he murmurs, walking casually with you in his arms. “oh right, you can’t because you’re always at my house.”

“the point of hooking up is to not talk, satoru.”

“well excuse me,” he dramatically rolls his eyes.

at first you were a bit shy coming to the bitter realization that you ended up matching with gojo by pure luck. by now, things weren’t even that awkward—or at least awkward yet…

you didn’t wanna jinx it though, he leads you towards your bed before you plop down on your hands. you sit down, staring up at him and he starts to pull up his grey sweatshirt. you watch intensely, his abs peeking as he yanked it off before you spot a glance of his dark blue boxers hiding above his sweatpants.

so attractive . . .

you’ve seen gojo shirtless countless times but never completely nude. just imagining him, his glistening body presenting itself right in front of you… phew.

you intake a breath, mentally preparing yourself.

“awh,” he sneers, and you’re so secluded into your erotic thoughts that you don’t even realize he’s practically half naked now. all that was left was his wan-colored sweatpants. he was a tease, your eyes fixate towards his ripped chest—his abs, they were sublimely sculpted and chiseled.

sharp.

you felt like if you ran a finger down his perfectly structured v-line, you’d get a paper cut. his six pack flexed and you had to squeeze your legs shut. it was no surprise gojo had a daily work out routine. he’d even try to drag you to come with him sometimes. majority of the time, that’d go to no avail though. “enjoying the show, yeahhh?”

“shut up.” you grouse with a swift eye roll.

a smug grin curls up against his pink lips before he grabs your hand. “wanna feel me?” and you’re confused by what he wants you to feel until he makes you slowly slide your hand down his clenched pecs. you peer up at him, his body feels so warm— it was brick hard, exactly how you thought. your fingers continued to run down his ripped modeled chest before feeling against a scar. “cute fingers,” he teases, making it trail lower and lower until you spot his happy trail that was just about poking above from the very hem of his boxers. “you should pull them off of me.”

“fine,” you mutter with a puffy blow, bringing both hands towards his lower half. gojo stares, watching you pull down his sweatpants— then his briefs. you made sure to take your time, tugging on the stretchy aqua-blue fabric before within seconds, his length springs out. “you weren’t lying.”

“hm?” he says, watching your eyes continue to wander — he was definitely big, your memory suddenly refreshes of the pictures you exchanged with him, and the carpets very much did match the drapes. his shaft was . . turgid, at least the tip was. it was a pretty flashing pink, smeared with a few droplets of his own pre-cum. gojo was well trimmed, but had a few left over white specks scattered all across his base. he even had a cute mole down near the very edge of his length. specks of white hairs near his happy trail decorated his body, it was attractive. he had a left curve too, it was quite noticeable—a strikingly long vein that pulses at the sight of you, running down the very middle part of his dick and you merely moan.

as you move yourself closer, he’s stood standing while you’re sat on the bed and your glossy lips give his swollen tip a few chaste kisses.

“damnnnn,” he pants, feeling his cock twitch from the way your lips made instant contact with his tip.

the more you stared at his length from your peripherals—the more you observed its color. it had a rich rosy tan. slightly—still the same pinkish color with a brief tapered ridge. he was hefty, there was no question. inch after inch, he stood tall right in front of you. gojo claws a hand into your hair softly before sucking in his breath. “baby wait, i wanna do everything. ‘m already hard.”

you hum, amused—giving his frenulum a subtle lick before backing away, jibing out a, “oh really?” and then once he makes you lie back against the bed, you sit up with a sly grin. “do you even know how to eat pussy? and i’m not just talking about from your 'experience' from reddit or twit—”

“girl shut up,” his tone pitches an octave and it’s quite funny.

always sassy—you watch as gojo strum his fingers against your dress, taking his precious time to lift it up before feeling against your thighs. so soft, he’s always wanted to feel you—especially right here, take in every part of your curves, your gorgeous physique. his lips form into a cute scowl as he pulls you closer towards him. “i know what i’m doing.”

“yeah you do.” you sing along, and he shoots you a pout. you loved the banter between the two of you, toying along with him—he always made it so easy. it doesn’t take long before he starts peeling off your fishnets with his teeth, it was so dirty. you felt yourself throb a bit, edges of his teeth softly pricking against your skin as he yanks the thin nylon material made fishnets that stuck against your thighs.

your back lies flat against the bed and you intake a single breath. gojo rubs a hand against your tummy, you quaver a bit simply from his touch. he’s keeping eye contact the entire time too, irises never looking away for a split second—he mimics the same motion, peeling your panties off with his pearly canines.

it’s lewd, he doesn’t even pull them off all the way. instead, he just leaves it on you but has it rolled down to your thighs. “lotta back talk for a girl this soaked, to be honest.”

“ . . . . ”

you don’t reply, and he chuckles to himself. he finds your lack of an answer quite cute.

gojo stares between your parted thighs and your lips were all stretched—glistening with a sheet coat of your sweet arousal.

“so pretty,” he coos in a low voice, and you watch as he leans in—pressing a soft kiss against your entrance. immediately, his lips gets all shimmery from your own wetness and it’s hot. gojo purposely runs his tongue against his lips because he knows you’re staring directly at him. “my best friend tastes soooo sweet.”

“quit talking, ‘toru.” you moan and you don’t realize how your voice is becoming more and more shaky by the second.

“fine. fiiiiine, can’t have shit,” he grumbles playfully.

you stare as he prods two lengthy fingers against your slit. with a gulp, you prepare yourself. he gradually starts to insert two fingers inside, curling them up whilst it adapts to your warm walls and his arm shakes. “oooooh,” he whispers in a mere raspy voice. sweetened squelchy squelches came from your cunt and it was so loud it rang throughout your ears like church bells on a wedding day. “she’s quite— the talker, huhh.” he continues, and that’s right when he places his lips against your folds.

you swallow, feeling your back immensely arch from his hot lips.

gojo’s tongue swipes against your pussy. the middle part of his tongue skims down and it feels so good, he’s slow at first. he knows the exact direction to go and your toes curl. a free hand of his slides near your pubic mound, applying just the right amount of pressure—he does this so you can quickly feel your sweet g-spot. you do, and a gasp leaves your lips, it’s mindblowing.

already, he made you feel your forbidden g-spot.

you didn’t even know gojo—your dumb best friend had this kind of experience. as his palm presses down against the particular spot, his other hand is still occupied. lengthy fingers curl all throughout your walls, reaching every spot by prodding with just the right amount of deepness.

“f-fuckkk,” you whine, and suddenly your nerves make you shift your attention back towards his slick tongue. as his tongue was lolled out, a pretty clean pinkish tongue. he slithers it by using the back of his tongue, merely copying a sort of vacuuming type technique. the sounds that ran out his mouth was so filthy, your thighs start to twitch profusely and your hands found its way into his hair.

“s—satoruuu.” you’d babble and its only been a few minutes. a few long minutes, your squirming was cute to him. you tried focusing on your breathing patterns but that was no use. your mind went blank, empty like a canvas.

“mhm,” he groans, feeling himself get hard simply from your pitchy moans that reverberate and bounce across the thin walls. his fingers still went in and out of your cunt at a decent thrusting pace. the way you easily swallowed his two digits was just perfect, it didn’t take long at all for him to find your clit. “there she isssss,” he hisses cheekily, changing up his tongue strokes just a bit. it felt so good, heavenly. the way he drags it against your pussy. your jaw hung open with only sweetened sobs and whimpers leaving right past your spit-glossed lips.

whilst he’s rummaging through your vulva, he occasionally breaks away to spit right onto your cunt. it was no surprised gojo satoru was a messy man. he couldn’t help it, he’s fantasized about this exact scenario maybe once or twice. as his saliva trickles between your slit, he grunts as he watches. just all sopping wet just for him. he blows against your entrance just to make you squirm even more.

with his fingers still buried into your cunt, he does the ‘come here’ motion—a simplistically erotic motion where he uses not one but both index and his middle finger to flick back and forth inside of you. right there, oh you could have came.

“o-oh my goddd,” you whimper, his warm breath colliding against your arousal. “i-i’m close, satoru. think ‘m getting close.”

“aw,” he purrs in a sweet tone, using the flat of his tongue to lap up against your clit even further. you’re so soaked—his chin starts to drip with your slick and it’s so attractive. he pulls himself back to grin at you, a dumb pussy-drunken smile and nothing but your slick arousal running down his chin, so sheeny. “suck a little harder, she says?”

you nod, although you were sure your inevitable orgasm was quickly approaching.

your favorite part was when he sucks deeply against your clit, practically tongue fucking you. he had quite a long tongue so it did wonders, it made sure to reach every particular crevice imaginable. “nah don’t run from me now, gorgeous,” he utters sweetly once you squirm a bit more—he grabs on your hips, removing his two fingers just to hold you steadily in place. “give it to me, baby. show me how much of a messy girl my best friend can really be, huh.”

his dirty talk was just the icing on the cake. gojo’s just coaxing you towards your incoming release, all the while—it felt so good. the way your legs quavered, a trembling mess.

gojo’s holding your jerking hips against his mouth so he doesn’t miss a single taste. your mouth forms into a surprised 'o' and it’s like he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment—to be fair, he could have just asked a long time ago.

he was shy though, he didn’t wanna ruin the friendship—yet now that he’s propped up between your legs, eating you out like a starved man, you don’t know how you could continue to be just friends. not in a negative way, but after this—every time you’d stare at gojo, you’d just see his face that was right between your legs that one friday night ago.

once your orgasm comes, you whimper out— a ripple surging out of you and you’re so squirmy.

it was so intense, you fell into a trance, feeling that familiar spark combust and you’re slump back. your maw still hangs open and you’re so cute—only inaudible whimpers, cacophonies of his name, the repetitive whiney, “s—satoru, ‘toru.”

his nose brushes against your entrance before he pulls away—he grows quiet for a brief moment before sitting up, you’re out of breath before he leans in for a kiss. you moan right into his mouth, running a finger down his cute undercut and that makes him whine into your mouth. his undercut, he’s always liked the feeling of you running a finger down there—it hypnotized him in a way, the entire scene was so salacious. tasting yourself on his damp tongue, your legs wrapped around his waist and his dick brushes against your parted legs.

“you’re not that bad of a kisser, you know.” gojo mutters as he finally breaks away—a stringy shiny trail of spit departs and he sits up. “why can’t we do this more often?”

“you never ask,” you breathe, still getting over your recent release—he talks so much, you almost forgot how much of a blabbermouth he was. literally seconds ago his face was buried between your thighs and now he’s rambling to you about a sale he spotted on one of his favorite candies. “. . yeah yeah, lie back now.”

he lies back against the bed and watches as you make your way towards him. he lands backwards with an ‘oof’ before raising his eyebrows in amusement. “oh? you’re gonna be on top? what if i wanted to have you bent over—”

“i’d rather die than let you see me arched over.”

“heh, woah now angel—that’s just mean. after i gave you that teeth shattering orgasm,” he says with a dramatic eye roll. you align yourself with gojo, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and for a concise moment he grows quiet. “hm. don’t really care though, you’re still hot. straddling me like this and—”

you lean forward, silencing him with a kiss because he just wouldn’t stop talking—it was cute in a way though, gojo would literally talk your ear off. he kisses back immediately, feeling you hover against his leaky tip before lowering yourself further and further down. “mhm,” you’d gasp at the current stretch. it was hard to ignore, he was big—no secret about that. due to how sopping you were, it made it easy to just sink right down. gojo’s jaw tightens as he brings a hand towards your waist, another near your ass. with a tight squeeze, he continues to fall into sinful bliss at your cunt holding him hostage. your walls hugged him tightly the more you sank down. his breath was heavy, he heaved and heaved before you’re finally all the way down.

parting away once more, he utters out a needy, “touch me.”

“ask nicely,” you whisper, starting to rock your hips swiftly in place—you were so hot, especially in his eyes. you’re so warm inside, feverish, tingly. gojo swallows thickly, a breath getting caught in his throat as his white lashes flicker towards your waist. you brush a thumb against your best friend’s lips before humming. “touch me pretty please, say that.”

“how about i tell you a joke—” he cuts off, yet moans once he feels you grind your hips in a specific rotation—so good. he’s at a loss of words before his eyebrows curl up and furrow, head throwing back in pleasure. “heh. uh, check, please! know what’s on the m-menu? me ‘n you.”

“…………………..”

“…..you’re right, i should just shut up,” he puffs out, his cheeks burning with such heat. he holds onto your hips before he swallows his pride, speaking in a cute pout whilst avoiding eye contact. “touch me pretty please.”

you smile, trading a finger down his chiseled chest—so muscular, he was perfectly sculpted.

his loved your touch, it makes him ten times harder. your fingers roam against his body and he merely folds into putty, his abs—they clench as you’re being stuffed by full of his thick inches. gojo made sure to go slow, he didn’t wanna hurt you—especially considering how big and how much of a damn packer he was. so big you almost drooled.

he was mesmerized by the way you moved, with a single pivot of your hips it didn’t take long for him to locate that spot. you moaned, feeling a surge of haziness overtake you before you lean in to kiss near the crook his neck.

“man,” he croaks, and each time he speaks—his voice gets more raspy and out of breath. “uh, keep ridin’ me like that ‘n i’m gonna die. your pussy’s fuckin’ dangerous—shit.”

again, he rambles while you’re riding him in the same constant rotation. he falls in love with the jerks, the way you grind and delve your hips even further into him.

it’s amusing to study his facial expressions though, the way his blue irises would roll back into the very depths of his cranium—his pink sheeny lips parting, even his irregular breathing patterns. he was so whiney, your cunt swallowed him whole and he starts to feel fuzzy. hot, you felt so hot inside. it merely gives him whiplash once he feels your hands trail up toward his chest. his chest, more so his pecs—abs, his nipples.

“s-sensitive there…” he pants, and with his same grip against your hips he drags you closer—back and forth, it was so slow. you’re grinding against his body and he thinks he’s feeling a certain type away. you know, that word. this entire view, seeing you top him like this—gojo was about to lose his mind, a fiery sensation pools low into his abdomen. you had him all hot and bothered, it didn’t take long before his thigh starts to bounce.

“are you?” you tease, leaning in to run your tongue against his perky nipples—oh, his reaction. it was priceless, he grips onto your hair this time, moving a few strands away from your face while you’re still riding him before he whimpers. with shaky lips, he begs for you to suck harder. you didn’t even know if he was into something like this, perhaps your best friend was a freak.

a freak in bed.

you wondered if he’d be like this if he got matched with some other random girl on tinder. being this whiney for them, but since you two were close maybe you had an exception.

“angelllll,” he drags out his words, and it’s cute. his tongue rolls a bit and beads of sweat start to race down the side of his forehead. “i’m gonna—”

suddenly, he grows quiet once his cock that was buried into your folds abruptly slips out.

he slowly looks up at you with a head tilt, and you’re staring right back up at him—he’s still panting with his hands attached to your hip. “oops,” he sheepishly laughs, trying to ignore how he was so close to shooting right inside of you. it squelched, you break away from his chest before kissing near his neck. he moans, aligning himself back against your entrance. “f-fuck that was kinda hot.”

“i can’t tell who sounds like the girl more,” you start to pant yourself, and you feel yourself coming close right with him—you briefly bite your lip before feeling such nerves sneak its way inside. his girth, it never failed to leave you speechless. with gojo, he was a bit thick but more so lanky—thin, yet he made sure to reach every crevice of your cunt. you felt him deep, the more his hold against your hips tighten—the more he’s pumping you full. you’re constantly leaning forward, cupping his face before sneaking a few kisses near the corners of his lips.

“shut up,” he rasps, and he’s close. you’re about to milk him dry—his breathing picks up and he presses his fingers right into your hips. strands of his hair runs through his face before he whines, head throwing back in pure bliss. “god, you do it so good��so good, ‘m gonna cum,” and then with pretty hooded eyes, he swallows before reaching between your legs. he runs a hand against your sopping wet cunt that was a sheer mess itself before sighing lowly, “where do you want it, angel? tell me if i should—”

“inside,” you whisper, and your voice was so close up to his ear that he could have just came from your voice and your voice alone. shivers ran through his body, your chest presses against his and he’s maneuvering quicker circles against your pussy. “f-fuck, ‘toru. ‘m gonna cum too.”

his ruffled hair was all in his face, it was cute. you’re being stuffed full—he’s so hefty you’re dizzy, approaching that release before seconds pass and you gush out. it comes out slow, a shockwave ripples out and you whimper—softly nibbling your teeth deep into the inside of his neck.

“oh f—fuckkk,” he babbles, and his voice ends up cracking, its adorable. both of his ears burn with radiating heat before he finishes, dumping a sloppy load of velvety ropes into your cunt. you literally did milk him, you bring your hips to a more slow stop—deeply grinding against him still and he slumps back. he pours so much into you he’s speechless himself, a hand hooked around your waist as you continue to swivel. “i just— i need you—shitttt.”

you stare at gojo and he’s all dumb, panting heavily. his chest heaves and tightens, loving the warmth of your plush thighs wrapping around him. “i.. i think i love you,” he abruptly says, and with his tone—it’s like in more of a question, he watches your shocked stare peer into him and he sighs. “i don’t wanna use dinder anymore, i— i just want you.”

“it’s called tinder, satoru,” you kiss near the side of his lip. “and i love you too, dummy.”

“really?” he looks at you, still smothered with a look of fatigue—he could go for more rounds but he needed a minute—plus he may or may not have a cramp in his leg. “soo when’s the wedding then?”

you deadpan and he sheepishly smiles at you, he’s still got a firm grip on your waist.

the feeling of gojo’s remains of cum just seeping down your thighs as you straddled him—still with his twitching shaft inside made you kiss your teeth a little. “i’m sure you’ll get cold feet, you’re scared of literally anything.”

“pft. girl, that’s not even remotely true. do you realize who you’re talking to?”

the arrogant gojo came back — you roll your eyes and he slyly grins, yet all the meanwhile he’s holding you close against your chest. you let him kiss you once more before you both pull away once his phone suddenly beeps.

a loud screeching notification . . you were assuming it was a text. he feels you shift a bit, turning to see what it was but pulls you closer towards him, deepening the kiss. you give up, locking your arms around him once more, preparing to start up your hips again.

oh, he tastes candied, sweet…

you moan straight into his mouth before the phone ends up beeping again and again.

consistently until it starts to get annoying, gojo grunts, departing from your honeyed lips. “who’s texting me, angel? thought i turned tinder notifications off.”

you grab his phone, it brights up from your fingertips hovering against the screen before you squint. “uh, it says . . . suguru geto?”

he repeats. “suguru ge—” and then he timorously runs a hand through his hair with a raised eyebrow. “oh. eh, what’d he say?”

you pause for a long moment before reading the message, by long—seven consecutive seconds to be exact, your lip twitching, slowly realizing as you skim through the text by this ‘suguru geto.’

“. . . he says that he had fun last night.”

“oh!”

[meshiinuma]

shoko has such an accurate hand. she has to, of course, what with her carving people apart every other day. you think she likes cutting into the flesh of mango more than that of something that once lived.

she turns to you with another cube pierced through a fork, silently held to your mouth.

you open. close. chew.

suguru picked an extra juicy one this time. he has such an amazing sense for those things.

shoko turns back to the big bowl of cubed mango she was cutting up for satoru (every time he tries to eat it off the skin, his throat closes up. shoko suspects an allergy to the skin.), while he was inside the house looking for his bluetooth speaker.

the mango bowl that sat between you and shoko on the picnic blanket tempted you to pluck a cube out and pop it into your mouth. so you did.

unfortunately, right before you could wrap your lips around the fruit, suguru popped up out of nowhere and took the sweetness straight from your hands.

he just chewed happily as you steamed in anger next to him.

to pay you back, suguru grabbed another mango from the bowl and slipped it between your lips. as you chewed, his hand trailed down from your mouth down to your chin. you swallowed and another mango chunk was already at your mouth.

shoko dropped the knife onto the cutting board next to her and shifted to flop onto you.

"i don't even know why i do all of this for him. it's funnier to watch his throat close." she was joking, of course.

"because you're in love!" you sing songed into her face as you guided a forkful of mango to shoko's mouth.

her lips wrapped around the utensil and she slipped the fruit off the prongs.

"mm. means you and i are in love too. i don't think any of us would've come outside if it weren't for satoru bringing it up every week." suguru's right, the three of you were so busy with your own out of the home affairs that none of you would've thought to set aside some time to soak up the sun.

"speaking of our dearly beloved lover," you laid back into suguru's chest after maneuvering to sit in his lap, "where is he?"

just then the patio door slammed open.

"i found it!" he cheered into the empty space of the backyard.

"yay!" you cheered back as satoru approached.

he set down his little blue speaker and pulled out his phone, presumably to set a queue up.

"ah, ah! wait!" you stopped him and dragged over the bowl of strawberries (not without the help of suguru's long arm).

"say ahh!" a juicy looking strawberry was pierced through the fork you had previously used to feed shoko.

satoru followed your instructions and opened his mouth wide, "ahhh...!" he leaned forward to chomp the fruit the second it got close enough to him.

"i did so much hard work and you're feeding him strawberries i cut?" shoko protested from below you, but the smirk on her face betrayed her feelings.

"my deepest apologies, your majesty, i never realized what back breaking labor you perform day and night." you proclaimed dramatically and caught three pieces of mango onto the fork prongs.

gently, you took hold of shoko's face and brought her up a bit further so you could look up close as she savored the fruits of her labor.

she sucked the mango off the fork, holding your gaze and your hand holding the fork handle.

before pulling away and leaving her with the fork, you pecked her lips and nuzzled your forehead into her own.

you turned to satoru as he tapped around his music app. eventually he clicked something that made something soft and distinctly lovey in tune float through the speaker he brought out.

"c'mere big boy," an uncut strawberry was clutched in your fingers, the tapered side held out to his mouth.

satoru perked up and with a smile he wrapped his lips around the pseudocarp and bit gently into the ripe flesh. strawberry stained his already pink lips further.

the little bits of strawberry that weren't caught by satoru's hungry maw were nibbled off by your own. while you picked away at his scraps, shoko gently pushed the bowl of mango towards satoru.

"i really don't understand why you deny your allergy, satoru."

now she's done it.

"because i do not have an allergy to the skin of mango, sho-ko." he defends after consuming some carefully peeled and sliced mango chunks, "but, thank you for cutting mango for me." and satoru leaned forward to peck her on the lips. but a peck is never just a peck for satoru gojo, oh absolutely not.

one brush over the lips, barely constituting as a peck, turns into another firmer one. he's cradling her face in his palms as he gives her one big smack on her forehead. shoko has her face tilted up, like those pictures of cats satoru sends in the groupchat, the ones having their ears pressed down and head cupped by their owners.

in the meantime, suguru and you take turns passing the fruit fork between each other, feeding each little slice to each other. sweetness drips out of your pores.

suddenly, satoru collapses onto your lap and looks up to you with hooded lids, "i don't think we should listen to shoko for medical advice."

"didn't she catch your pneumonia way before it happened?" suguru asked.

"you really think we're asking her advice for anything non-medical?" you tacked on afterwards.

"hey!...you're completely right," she deflates onto her side and sinks into the plush of suguru's thigh. your fingers card through her cocoa locks, fiddling with the ends when you'd get there.

suguru chuckles and moves to give satoru more strawberry slices while you rifle through his pockets for a lone hair tie.

he starts to giggle suddenly, "that tickles!" you found a silky black scrunchie in the deep deep pockets of suguru's cargo shorts, not without brushing parts of his leg that were the most sensitive (he never had the looming threat of siblings wiggling their fingers in every crevice of his body when he was younger).

"sorry," you lean to brush your lips against his exposed bicep and dance your fingers around his armpit. suguru squeals and shoves your shoulder away. all you do is chuckle at his misfortune.

you turn back down to shoko, whos fiddling with the ends of satoru's hair and swiping leftover fruit juice away from the corner of his mouth. something so warm and loving is shining through her eyes, it almost chokes you up.

gently, her hair is collected in your hands. shoko spares you a single glance and a smile before melting back into suguru's thigh. you move the hair as high as possible onto her head (she hates how low and loose ponytails feel, either her hair is down and free or it's all in one place, no inbetween). any fly aways are quickly collected and you tie off the ponytail. just to make sure it's on tight enough, you split the hair in two and tug lightly.

shoko hums and grabs a fork to spear chunks of mango and strawberry through. she offers the utensil to your mouth. her way of showing gratitude.

you suck the fruit off in the same manner as she had earlier, staring into her big brown gems of knowledge and holding the hand that fed you. in addition to the action, you teasingly swipe at her retreating fingers with your tongue. shoko wrinkles her nose.

suddenly, suguru's arms wrap around satoru and shoko. his hands clasp together in front of you, ensnaring you into his addictingly comforting (and sticky with fruit) hold.

"what are you-" shoko starts, but suguru just silently leans back until his back hits the picnic blanket, taking the three of you down with him.

his grip loosens, but no one makes the move to get up. you shift and curl up onto his torso, laying your head in your folded arms. satoru scoots himself up until his head is somewhere around suguru's shoulder. his arm is thrown over your own body until his hand reaches shoko. she curls herself into you, as far as she can, and loosely clutches onto satoru's hand.

then, something semi-urgent enters your mind, "what about the fruit? bugs are gonna get to it," suguru groans and moves to slide out from under the three of you, but satoru beats him to it. sluggishly, your white haired lover rises and covers the bowls of fruit leaking sweet nectar. you'll return to them sometime soon. maybe.

satoru tucks himself back into the pocket of softness and love that the three of you left open for him. you think you feel the same completion you felt the day all four of you got married, laying in the shade with the spoils of suguru's grocery trip scattered all around your lovers.

[catfern]

HI! DID YOU KNOW TUMBLR IS SELLING OUR WORKS, CONTENT AND POSTS TO THIRD PARTY COMPANIES TO HELP TRAIN AI?

if you did, you're one step ahead of me so just ignore this post. but if you didn't! congrats! you're just as oblivious as me, so let's talk about it.

i personally don't know how long this has been a thing, but tumblr, through a sneaky little hidden setting choice, is essentially forcing us to consent to our works, including fics, drabbles, literally anything we write, draw, or post about being sold, of course for their profit, to third-party developers, like OpenAI, so they can train their shitty robots to do exactly what we do!

now, there is a tiny little respite from this issue, and that's turning off third party sharing in your settings (blog settings > visibility > third party sharing).

the wicked little detail is that if you have your reblogs enabled, which many writers on this app do, tumblr can take any reblogged version of your work to feed it into the maw of a machine. so i strongly urge as many blogs turn off this third party setting as possible, if not for the sake of your own work, for the sake of others as well.

[stillfoodforguys]

They say the best way to win a man’s heart is through his stomach, right? Which is great, since I’ve always thought I could satisfy a man’s hunger in every way possible.

I’d been chatting to a few guys on various dating apps, but there was one in particular who had a huge, sexy gut that I was just dying to fill up. Fortunately things hit off between us, and I invited him over with the promise of offering him the best meal of his life. He showed up wearing a t-shirt that barely fit around his plump frame, knowing full well that I wouldn’t be able to resist removing it as soon as he walked through the door.

When his massive belly was exposed, I ran my fingers through his body hair and massaged his soft, empty gut that awaited its meal. He started drooling profusely as he sucked on my neck and undressed me, excited to get his first taste of my naked body. Slipping my pants off as he knelt down, he wrapped his moist lips around my hard cock and took it deep into his throat, slowly sneaking his tongue underneath my balls at the same time.

This guy really knew how to use his mouth, making me shake with so much pleasure I could barely stand. It wasn’t long before he got to swallow every drop of my salty load. He stood up and met my blissful smile with a seductive grin of his own, leaning in close enough for me to feel his warm breath on my face. He stroked the back of my head and whispered a question: “That’s the appetiser over, are you ready to give me the main course?”

I nodded silently before allowing him to push my head into the dark, dripping cavern that was his hungry maw. He held my waist for leverage while he stuffed my body down his throat, moaning as my delicious taste filled his mouth, which only grew stronger the more of me he devoured. I curled up tightly inside his stomach, its pulsating walls smearing a mixture of saliva and my cum that he’d previously swallowed around my whole body.

With one last gulp, he sent my feet sliding down his gullet, and held his gut with both hands to feel it finish expanding to accommodate me. He rubbed his round, stuffed belly and let out a rumbling belch, letting me know how content I’d made him by becoming his meal.

[swampgallows]

alleria is okay so far personality-wise in tww but i just wish she didnt look Like That. also because questing in hallowfall with her and anduin and faerin it's just kinda muddy with the monochrome and yellow/purple contrasts in all of their armor color schemes. i know this is the light vs void xpac(s) so everything's gonna be b/w and ourple/lellow but we're gonna have 2 more xpacs of this and i dont want it be overkill. alleria's design is especially weird because vereesa is silver covenant so she's already got the kinda crystal blue/white/silver thing going on, and then sylvanas went maw and turned like gunmetal blue and now alleria's like both of them combined. like sure theyre sisters, but theyre not triplets. i thought the kinda rgb thing they had going on originally was fine, but i understand the need for a rebrand from her 'forest ranger' look. just dunno why they made her look like an iphone.

i so heavily associate WoW with its bold painterly palettes in every zone and their color design that i hope it doesnt veer off into sepia skyrim territory in an effort to appeal to a wider audience or some shit. like the outfits themselves are very (unnecessarily) elaborate in impractical ways (see: calia menethil) but chromatically are kinda boring. actually yeah calia menthil is the perfect example both because i love hating on her and also just because it fits. her silhouette is distinct due to the headpiece and her enormous jugs but the coloration is such a drab featureless swathe it almost looks untextured.

i mean it would probably help too if 90% of the women in wow werent blonde haired and blue eyed :grimacing: but yeah. im not sayin everything has to be tbc-level clownsuit status but im not a fan of the uhhh app-ification of a lot of the armor. i feel like as wow starts moving into sculpted armor pieces with 3d assets they have a lot more liberty to make the lore characters MORE detailed and elaborate in the ways the painted textures of the early game attempted to. the modernizations of tier 2 that are coming out for 20th anniversary are the perfect example of that!!! but instead it's like. what is alleria's tunic made of. is it fabric? is there a plate chestpiece like faerin has? is it metal over a tunic? how much of it is made of metal? like it's more "detailed" per se, higher fidelity, but it somehow reads worse as armor or clothing anyone would actually put on their body. using tens of thousands of polygons to make some shit that nobody knows wtf it is

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 2: Spin the Bottle𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 1

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 4.4K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: At the party, your roommate asks you and your friends if you want to play Spin the Bottle.

Notes: Please comment anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK.

Content warning: There are a couple curse words and drinking in this chapter, but they are not too frequent.

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDITS TO ME!

...

“Where’s my brother?” Winnie asked, scanning the nearly vacant Slytherin common room. Next to her, a girl with curly brown hair stood.

“What the bloody hell are you wearing?” Brian sputtered, his maw open and bushy eyebrows bunched together. He looked her up and down, his confused expression apparent on his features.

Winnie tilted her head in visible puzzlement, “It’s a party. Aren’t we supposed to be dressed up to look pretty and stand out?” She looked down at her outfit, “I don’t see what’s wrong with what I’m wearing.” You smiled at her ignorance.

The girl next to her widened her eyes and looked away. Her shoulders shook, attempting to hold back her laughter. Next to you, leaning to the side, one hand on his hip, Brian’s face was contorted into a dumbfounded expression.

You observed Winnie’s odd outfit choice. She wore short overalls with a primarily pastel chequered palette and a small daisy on the front pocket in the middle of her chest. Underneath, you saw a white, overlarge sweater. You thought it was a bit simple for her until you noticed the sleeves looked dipped in colourful paint, peeling off in several areas. It was no doubt Winnie's creative idea. Her socks were also white but had pastel polka dots, and her shoes were black ballerina flats. For a Pureblood, she sure loved Muggle-wear.

You glanced at her face and noted that it was the only area on her body that wasn’t doused with colour. Her frizzy hair was tied up in a low ponytail, a few strands escaping from the coiffure.

You decided to jump into the conversation. “Yes, Winnie, but your outfit is rather,” you paused, searching for the right word, “visible.”

“What’s wrong with visible?” She furrowed her brows.

Before you could respond, Brian stepped in, cutting you off, “Well, we are sneaking around, and if we get caught, it’ll be a problem. We need something more discreet and everyday-wear.”

“But you and (Name) are also wearing nice clothes.” Winnie gestured to your primarily brown outfits.

“Winnie,” you tried reasoning with her, “Brian and I are wearing really dark and simple clothes. It’ll be more difficult to recognise us from a distance since many guys dress similarly, while your outfit is really bright and recognisable.”

She looked down, disappointment etched on her features as realisation dawned on her, “Oh okay…” she mumbled.

The girl next to her caressed her shoulder reassuringly. It was funny because she was at least 180, while Winnie was over a head shorter. That’s when it finally clicked for you.

“Hey, I know you,” the girl looked up at the sound of your voice, “You’re Winnie and Elsie’s roommate, aren’t you? Mary, right? I’m not the best at names.” You smiled at her, and she nodded, a silent gesture of affirmation.

“Anyway,” Brian said, “Is Elsie coming, or did she decide to skip?”

Winnie looked up again, “Oh, Ramona and Avery are helping her get ready. Where’s my brother? Is he already gone?”

You nodded, “Yes, he wanted to meet Destiny beforehand.” 

You didn’t ask about why Elsie was spending extra time trying to seem appealing since you remembered the way she looked at Alistair and how he would often be the topic of conversation whenever he wasn’t there, whether she was complimenting his flying skills or insulting his girlfriend.

Brian was also aware, so he kept his mouth shut.

Winnie clapped her hands together and put them to her cheek in a sweet, motherly way as one would when cooing at a romantic couple or cute puppy, “Ohh! I’m glad everything is going well between them.”

You were never sure whether or not Winnie liked Destiny, but she seemed genuinely happy for her brother despite his girlfriend’s imperfections. It was one of her aspects you liked. She was determined to help everyone, so it surprised you that she wasn’t a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.

“Where’s Campbell?” You heard Elsie’s voice coming from near the top of the stairs of the girl’s dormitory.

Winnie raised her hand and looked up, “I’m here.”

“No, the other Campbell. I never call you by your last name, Winnie, and if I did, you’d be Campbell NumberTwo.” Elsie stepped down from the dormitory. Two girls looking rather proud of themselves followed suit.

Elsie wore a red chequered skirt with a matching cropped blazer over a black corset top you recognised from a muggle shop near your house. Her short hair was tucked behind her ears with pins and hair clips.

Winnie squeaked joyfully and wrapped her arms around Elsie, then pulled away and bounced up and down. Sometimes, since she was so enthusiastic, you weren’t sure whether Winnie knew about her best friend’s crush on her brother, considering that was the reason Elsie dressed up in the first place.

“You look lovely,” you smiled reassuringly, and Elsie shrugged, looking away and playing with her sleeves. You rarely saw her this reserved since the first time you met her, and most of her other friends never got to see that vulnerable side of her.

Mary signed something to one of the girls who helped Elsie get ready, and she checked the time with a pocket watch.

“It’s 11: 15, peeps. If we hurry now, we’ll be at the Gryffindor common room by 30.”

The entire group nodded in acquiescence. 

As you shuffled towards the door, you removed your penny brown sweater and handed it to Winnie, “Here, you need it more than I.”

“Aww! Thank you, (Name)!” She slipped it over her head and pulled it down, wrapping her arms around herself, petting the wool. She swayed from side to side as she trotted behind the others. You stifled a chuckle at how much larger it was than her, walking behind the other.

“11: 30,” whispered the girl with the pocket watch — whose name you found out was Ramona Armstrong, the sister of one of your roommates —, brushing her spiky red hair out of her eyes, “They’ll be here to check the door in a couple second, I reckon.”

The Fat Lady looked at your group, “You know, most of the students are already here.”

Winnie tilted her head, “But can’t we go to parties at any time after?” 

The Fat Lady gave her a look that suggested that Winnie’s reply wasn’t one she particularly liked, “Well, apparently.” She sniffed.

The door slowly creaked open, and a head of red hair popped out from behind the painting. He grinned at your group, “Well, look what we have here.” Fred Weasly grinned, analysing your group, “You all 16?”

“Yup.” Elsie spoke for your group, disinterestedly checking her nails.

Fred hummed, “We’re gonna need a password anyways.”

“What?! But there was nothing about the password in the invitation!” Ramona and Mary’s friend babbled to your left, unmistakably irritated. From the corner of your eye, you saw Brian tilting her head. When you looked to your right, he and Winnie were frowning in perplexity.

“Goodness, I’ve never met 6th years so dense,” the Fat Lady groaned from another painting, fanning herself, “He’s obviously playing with you, now please go inside so I can sleep!”

You sighed. Of course, there was no password. Fred just found it funny to mess with a bunch of Slytherins, many of whom were deemed intelligent by their report cards. Fred snickered. If George was somewhere behind him, you couldn’t hear laughing.

Fred made a gesture with his head to follow him, and your party silently slipped into the dark Gryffindor common room. Sure, the walls were soundproof in every bedroom, but you glided soundlessly just in case.

“Once the passageway opens, you gotta all run, got it?” the redhead whispered, not looking for any affirmation from you.

He pressed a brick in the fireplace, then lightly tapped two others.

The wall slid to the side to reveal the interior of a room, and the loud chatter of 6 year students made you realise why everyone had to enter quickly. Fred was the first to slip in, and you went last. When you entered, the wall slid back into place.

Around you was a grand area a bit smaller than the common room, crowded with students your age or older drinking, playing games, or chatting. A hallway was across you, a badly drawn toilet sign hanging from a nail in the wall. While you were a bit annoyed at how dim the pink light was, you had to admit that the teachers would find it difficult to perceive it from the courtyard.

You felt a hand grab your hand.

You looked down to see Winnie. Next to her, her arm interlocked with Brian’s since they were closer height-wise. Elsie shuffled to your other side. 

“We should look for Alistair,” you suggested, raising your voice to be heard over the other conversations around you.

Winnie nodded with excitement, “Uh huh! So he and Destiny can see how lovely our outfits look tonight!” You glanced at Elsie whose cheeks turned pink at the thought.

“Well, we’re gonna have to leave y’all here,” Ramona said. Mary and the other girl were already sinking into the sea of people. “Good luck finding your friend.” She saluted you with two fingers before walking away, running her hands through her red hair. 

As you made your way through the crowd of people, you saw one of your other roommates: Ziggy Armstrong. He was next to a boy you presumed to be the best friend he frequently talked about whenever you hung out.

“Ziggy!”

The boy glanced at you at the sound of your voice but still eagerly listened to his friend's conversation. You brought your arms to a shrugging motion, shaking your hands silently asking for Alistair’s location.

Ziggy pointed behind him to a corner of the room where you could make out two people sitting awfully close. 

You crinkled your nose at the thought of Alistair making out with his girlfriend and having to intervene in their... bonding session. It's not that you've never done anything of the sort, you just felt a tad uncomfortable seeing it happen, considering you never had feelings for the person you were with at the time. You gave Ziggy a thumbs up, only to see he’d gone back to engaging in his conversation.

“Over this way,” you pointed to where Alistair was.

Your group shuffled through the crowd, sliding past tightly cramped students and dodging the dancing teens to reach your friend. You led the way, and your friends rapidly followed suit.

You neared the duo, quickening your steps, when you saw them get up. You couldn't call out to Alistair and the person he was with — whom, to Elsie's displeasure, was Destiny White — since the chatter among the other people was too invasive and would muffle your shout.

Suddenly, someone walked in front of you. Since you hadn’t seen them, you ran face-first into them, foreheads bumping together, causing momentary pain in your skull. You felt liquid on your chest. It seemed whomever it was spilt their drinks when you crashed into them.

“(Name)!” Winnie and the rest of your party caught up to you to make sure you were fine, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…” you groaned, obviously contradicting your statement.

A bit peeved, you glared at the person you bumped into through your lashes, pressing your naturally cold hands to your forehead, only to be met with a light grey glower from the worst person you could bump into at the moment: Cedric fucking Diggory.

He said something, but his words fell on deaf ears as you pushed past him.

You rushed to where Alistair was, only to find the space occupied by a group of Gryffindors laughing about the Triwizard Tournament's unexpected appearance.

You groused, throwing your hands into the air in frustration, before pivoting around to find your other friends.

They were still where you left them, Elsie and Brian waited for you arms crossed and deadpanned expressions, while Winnie hurried over to meet you, a look of worry etched on her soft features. She lightly grabbed your left arm, walking with you to the two others. You vaguely noticed Cedric had dissipated into the crowd.

“Don’t leave us alone with that Hufflepuff git again,” Elsie scolded, tapping your chest with her index finger.

You looked away, rubbing the back of your neck, which started heating up. It happened whenever you were embarrassed or flustered. Sometimes, when you felt ashamed. “Sorry, I was stupid,” you apologise, pressing your cold hand on your heated neck.

“Your shirt! There’s a spill!” Winnie gasped, pointing at your chest.

You looked down to see an orange stain on your white button-up, uncomfortably sticking to your skin. You cringed at the sight, feeling your nape growing hotter again. You couldn’t wear that shirt anymore unless you thoroughly washed it.

“Here,” Winnie removed the brown sweater you lent her and handed it back, “You need this more than me. Besides, I need to show off my fashion!” She twirled around and posed. 

Elsie snorted, and Brian smiled, the skin of his burn mark stretching. You pulled the sweater onto your head, the corner of your mouth twitching upwards.

“I think we’ll be alright without Alistair,” Brain admitted, leaning to his right with a lopsided grin. 

Winnie laughed in agreement.

You saw Elsie's slightly pained expression, and placed a hand on her shoulder, “We’re bound to cross paths with him at some point,” you added to Brian’s statement, although your words were primarily meant for Elsie’s ears.

“Yeah!! Let’s have fun tonight!!” Winnie pumped her fist into the air with delight, already advancing towards the food and drinks table.

“I don’t think I’d participate, personally,” Winnie shrugged, words slightly slurred from the two cups of alcohol she consumed, not sober, but not completely under the influence, “I’m not much of a competitive babe.”

You stirred your non-alcoholic (drink name) with a straw, a tinge of jealousy squeezing your heart. Since your birthday was later in the school year, you weren’t allowed to participate in the Triwizard Tournament — the infamous competition between Hogwarts and its rival schools your mother told you about when you were little.

What made it even worse was that Cedric could be participating. He was of age — well, would be soon — and no doubt had enough skill to be chosen as Hogwarts champion of this year. However, you were uncertain if he had it in him to act remotely aggressive towards the other school’s champions. Maybe he would try to get in just to rub it in your face.

Elsie smirked, “Yeah? Well I think I would. I’m 17 in less than a month.”

You felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to see Ziggy and his blonde best friend, a coy smile on his face, “Hey, we’re gonna play Spin the Bottle in a different room, wanna join?”

Your friends had stopped chatting; you responded with a nonchalant shrug, “Sure, I don’t see why not. Could be entertaining.”

“If (Name)’s in, I most certainly am, but don’t count on me kissing people on the lips specifically,” Brian chimed in, setting his drink down on the table next to the chips and suspicious-looking candy.

“Excellent,” Ziggy gave you a thumbs up, turning to the girls, he asked, “How about you ladies? Alistair’s gonna be there, too; it could be the full gang.”

Elsie perked up at the mention of Alistair before realising how odd it must have appeared, slouching back against the wall, eyes disinterested, “Alright, I’m in. How about you Winnie?”

Winnie frantically shook her head, chuckling as she spoke, “Absolutely not. I am not risking the bottle landing on my brother and I. No incest. Nope. Not today, perverts,” she rambled, waving her hand in the air in a tipsy manner.

Ziggy shrugged and started heading to a hallway you didn’t notice before, the blonde boy following after. Brian waved to Winnie and walked along with Ziggy. You stayed back to wait for Elsie.

“Alright,” she hesitated, “Are you fine with being alone here?”

Winnie smirked drunkenly, “Yeahhhh. But if you get bored, you can keep me company if you wanna.”

Elsie nodded in understanding, giving her a small smile, joining you as you caught up to the three other boys.

The room you entered was much smaller than the one you had been in moments before. Wooden shelves had been shoved closer to the stone grey walls, leaving space for the twenty-something students to sit comfortably in a wonky circle.

You recognised many people from your year, notably Alistair, Destiny, and — unfortunately — Cedric Diggory and his friends. You stuck to the opposite side of the room from where he was, slipping into a space next to Alistair. Destiny was busy talking to a Hufflepuff girl next to her and barely acknowledging your presence.

“Hello,” Alistair said and — to your surprise — he seemed sober, “Where have you been.”

“Searching for you,” Brian responded, settling next to you, “We gave up pretty early on, but it’s the thought that counts.”

Alistair laughed, “You’re here, Brian? I never thought your sad virgin ass would dare play a game like this. Even Elsie surprises me less. Nice skirt, by the way; it suits you.” He said nonchalantly.

Brian huffed and crossed his arms, light pink dusting his cheeks at being called out, while Elsie squinted in confusion, sliding next to you, “I’m not sure whether you’re saying that sarcastically or whether you’re serious. Is this a compliment?”

“Take it as you please.” Alistair shrugged.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” you turned your head to the sound of Ziggy’s voice in the middle of the circle, “Welcome, to our lovely little game: Spin the Bottle! I trust all of you have heard of it at least once in your sorry little lives, so we’ll just get on with the activity.”

He settled next to his best friend, who placed a bottle in the middle of the circle. “I volunteer to spin it first,” the blonde says, twisting the bottle, spinning it around, and then crawling back to his spot.

You held your breath in anticipation as the glass bottle slowed, only to land back on the same person who spun it. He laughed, “I don’t think that counts.”

“No redos,” insisted Ziggy, teasingly punching him in the arm, “Don’t be greedy; it’s my turn now. We’ll go around the circle clockwise, so everyone will get to kiss someone at some point. And don’t think any kiss less than five seconds will count.” You muffled a chuckle as Brian longingly looked at the exit.

One by one, the students spun the bottle around. So far, it never pointed to either Elsie, Brian or you; it did, however, land on Alistair, who — rather passionately — snogged a Gryffindor girl, much to Elsie’s displeasure. You noticed Destiny’s smile wavering, a look of betrayal in her eyes. When it was her turn, her lips barely touched those of the boy the bottle landed on.

Next went Alistair. That meant he would kiss two people in the duration of the game, while the rest of your friends hadn’t even had one.

The bottle spun, anticipation raised. You could see at least three girls excluding his girlfriend and Elsie, sitting on edge with hope, eyes glued to the rotating glass. You had to admit, you wouldn’t complain if it pointed to you; you knew he was famous for not only his looks but for his sexual talents.

The bottle slowed and finally stopped.

You turned to your left to see Elsie’s shocked expression. You weren’t completely sure whether it was good that she would be kissing him or whether her lack of experience would ruin everything.

You realised that your thoughts were trying to excuse cheating, and glanced at Destiny’s oddly calm expression, her thin eyebrow knotted together in intrigue.

You scooted backwards so that Alistair and Elsie were directly beside each other.

Her cheeks were coated in a light pink blush, her eyes cast away from the pretty boy’s face, and you knew if you pressed your hand to her chest, you would feel her heart beat like rapid fire.

When Elsie’s gaze met Alistair’s, he frowned and shook his head. “I refuse.”

A wave of murmurs enveloped the crowd. Your eyes widened. Was this seriously going to end up in another argument?

“...What?” Elsie whispered a slimmer of confused betrayal and deep sadness could be noticed on her pale face.

“I said I don’t want to kiss you.”

“Wha-why not?” Elsie looked positively irritated, and frankly, a little embarrassed. “You kissed that other girl.” A few giggles could be heard from the students. You glanced over and saw Cedric gazing at your friend with empathy. Ziggy shared a glance with his best friend, a look of uncertainty.

Alistair shrugged, “Yeah, but that’s different. You’re just not really appealing to me. And why do you actually care? Do you like me or something?” He teased, but it seemed to strike a nerve.

Elsie’s already flushed cheeks turned as red as her chequered skirt, “Of course not! Why would you think that?” She glanced at the spectacle of onlookers, “I just, um.” She trailed off, and got up frantically, wiping the nonexistent dust from her skirt, “I don’t feel like playing anymore.”

She spun on her heel and rapidly exited the room.

You quickly got up to follow, but Alistair grabbed your shoulder, a gaze of newly-found maturity in his eyes, “No, (Name), let me handle things.”

He left, and you apprehensively sat back down, sharing a worried glance with Brian. Destiny got up and left, mumbling an illegible excuse. Now that three people you knew were gone, the room felt awfully spacious.

Without missing a beat, Ziggy attempted to restore the ambience, “Alright! I believe it’s your turn, (Name).”

You nodded silently, pushing your anxiety to the back of your mind; Alistair had it handled, you were sure. It was about time he learned how to be responsible and apologise. 

You crawled to the middle of the circle and spun the bottle — not as fast as Alistair since you didn’t like the anticipation.

Your eyes wandered over to the door. Maybe it was because you were worried about Elsie’s mental state. Maybe it was because you didn’t completely trust Alistair with handling her emotions.

You felt Brian tap your thigh. “(Name)? You’re not gonna like this.”

“Hm?” You snapped your attention back to the room, gaze falling onto the bottle pointing in the opposite direction. Your eyes slowly lifted to see who the person you were supposed to kiss.

That’s when you realised what Brian meant by you not liking who it landed on.

You and Cedric’s gazes connected, a tornado of emotion whirling in your eyes, a storm of hatred between you.

“Alright, now, please, proceed to kiss.” Ziggy insisted.

“I pass.”

“So do I.”

You and Cedric glared at one another. There was no way you were kissing that dickhead. You’d rather die, and you could say the feeling was mutual for him.

Ziggy groaned, “Don’t stall. As a punishment, you’ve got to kiss for at least ten seconds. Now, my little lovebirds, kiss before I make you use your tongues.” Your neck started heating up at the thought.

You don’t know what made you do it — maybe curiosity, maybe Ziggy’s threat, possibly something else — but you shuffled closer to Cedric, who, noticing that you were complying, decided to do it as well, refusing to back down from your nonexistent challenge.

Your heartbeat in your chest, your breath quickened from nervousness, or perhaps you were nauseated enough by him that your adrenaline energised you.

“Reminder: ten seconds!” you perceived Ziggy’s voice in the background, “We’ll count for you.”

You took a deep breath through your nose, eyes flickering from Cedric’s lips to his cold grey eyes, and leaned in. Noticing you had already taken action, the Hufflepuff hesitantly did the same.

You closed your eyes and felt his lips brush against yours before connecting in a surprisingly soft kiss.

“Ten,” you faintly heard the other students chant, counting along in your head.

His lips were rather soft, you noted, subconsciously pressing your mouth harder against his.

“Nine.”

An unknown feeling crept into your chest, as you and Cedric, seemed to be pressing up against one another, while also desperately trying to pull away.

Eight.

Your heartbeat quickened, a thumping drum against your ribcage.

Seven.

Your hot neck kept getting hotter, uncomfortably so, as the kiss prolonged. It hadn’t even been five seconds — or perhaps it had been and your peers were just teasing you, intentionally taking their time counting.

Six.

You imagined what Brian might have looked like at the current moment. Shocked? Annoyed? You knew if Alistair saw you and Cedric, lip to lip, he would have flipped a table.

You breathed through your nose, in sync with your rival, like waves pulling in and out from the tide. 

How long had you and Cedric been kissing? Had it already been ten seconds? Should you pull away? Or was it not over yet, and if you stopped, you had to restart the whole experience?

A small voice in your head spoke, a whisper of wind echoing through your thoughts. Maybe you should stay like this for a bit longer. It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy it. Cedric’s lips were soft and warm.

In that instant, your body felt burning, as if a sudden wave of embarrassment decided to envelop you, like a heated reminder that you’ve been kissing the one person in the entire room you felt aggressive towards.

Oh shit. 

You backed away, an odd sense of unfulfillment in your racing heart as your lips parted from Cedric’s.

You looked at him, into his gorgeous stone grey eyes, and, if you weren’t blushing already, you were now.

You scrambled up, trying to maintain a decently dignified composer. Your jaw tightened, and your (eye colour) eyes hardened into cold gems, not a single emotion behind your gaze.

“I’m leaving,” you announced to the group, still staring at Cedric. The world around him and you faded like a smoky memory.

Slowly, you backed away, attempting to ignore the hotness of your nape and the thumping of your heart, beating loudly in your eardrums until you finally broke eye contact with the Hufflepuff as you walked back into the main party space.

...

Thank you for reading, please comment any suggestions you have or any issues I should fix.

If y'all are interested, here's how I imagined Elsie would look during the party.

Chapter 3 is out!

[princeloww]

The Real St. Judes: Gartloch Hospital - History (abridged)

The Scottish Lunacy Act of 1857 saw the creation of the Glasgow District Lunacy Board. The act, through these boards, aimed to establish and operate "district asylums", which would house patients unable to pay for the already existing "Royal Asylums".

In 1889, the Gartloch Estate was purchased by the City of Glasgow for approximately £8600 (~1 million today). The Glasgow District Lunacy Board were to turn it into an asylum for the mentally ill, and Gartloch Hospital would open in 1896.

In the early 1900s, a tuberculosis sanitorium was opened.

During World War II, Gartloch was temporarily transformed into an Emergency Medical Services Hospital; the psychiatric patients were transferred and housed in other hospitals. After the war, the tuberculosis sanitorium was shut.

Gartloch would fall into the hands of a different board (Board of Management for Glasgow North-Eastern Mental Hospitals), after joining the NHS in 1948.

Although there were 830 beds in 1904, by 1990 there were apparently only 530 - this being just under the amount available when it first opened.

In its last few years, Gartloch would fall under the Greater Glasgow Community and Mental Health Services NHS Trust. In 1996, the hospital officially closed, and was essentially abandoned, until 2003, when plans to turn Gartloch into a village began.

Now, there is a village, "Gartloch Village", surrounding the hospital. The main body, the iconic front we see in Donna Franceschild's TOTA, standing derelict and with boarded windows.

Oh, it's also apparently haunted, according to two nurses.

What was the hospital like?

I've nabbed these (like most of the other information - although I cross-referenced the rest (such as the years) from wikipedia and some other archives) from this article on hiddenglasgow.com.

I was born and lived at 2280 Gartloch Rd (East Cottages) of Gartloch Hospital. My Father, Bill Milne was the Bacteriologist at Gartloch Hospital Laboratory. My Mother was Helen and was the hospital hairdresser. My memories of Gartloch are the most wonderful memories ever. We had the most perfect childhood. The children of employees were involved in lots of differant ways. I remember especially the farm. Our house looked onto the busy fields and the Bishop Loch. We spent many happy summers pickinf tatties with the patients. And in the long cold winters, skating on the Bishop Loch. Christmad parties in the hospital involved all the staff, their children and patients. We got to know many of the patients who had been there most of their lives. Some had been admitted the the unit because of ''having a child out of wedlock'' I have so many stories to tell this page is not big enough! I would love to hear from anyone who remembers Gartloch or who lived/worked there.

Pattie Milne [04/02/2004]

I was talking with my gran t'other night about Gartloch (her maw died in there!) and she remembers these two women that used to walk about when she went visiting. One of them was about 4 foot nothing and the other about 6 foot. They walked up and down the hall, not saying a word to each other, but every now and then the taller one would repeatedly slap the little one on the head (that story seemed funnier when my gran told it!).

Crusty [30/01/2004]

There are a few more interesting stories on the linked article, so if you're interested, I recommend you check them out.

Finally: Takin' Over the Asylum (and other pop culture)

Takin' Over the Asylum aired on the 27th of September, 1994. The six-part drama was filmed in a disused wing of Gartloch, while the hospital was still open and functional. The hospital would close only 2 years after the airing of the show.

Gartloch's iconic, gothic towers would play a key role in the show, and be instantly recognisable to any viewer of TOTA.

Although it shut down in 1996, TOTA would not be the only media produced about the hospital. Wikipedia states that a film was produced in 2005, named (appropriately) "Gartloch Hospital", that covered the history of the hospital. This film went on to win an award in 2007, at the Scottish Mental Health Art and Film Festival, for "Best Factual Film".

Although hidden away, Gartloch hospital has an undeniably interesting history. Personal accounts from the hospital seem to paint it as a fun place, where patients and staff seemed to get along. Knowing the horrors of early mental health treatment, and the abuse many would suffer in these sort of places, we can only hope that these accounts are true and create an accurate image of life surrounding the hospital.

And I wrote all this because I really like David Tennant. Good night

Note the decorative peaks on the towers - they are absent from the rest of the photos. They were reportedly removed in the late 1930's.

SOURCES

Very interesting archive that goes into the history of Gartloch: (link) (source of above images)

Timeline and personal memories: (link)

Overview: Wikipedia (gartloch, Takin' Over the Asylum)

[turtlecleric]

Venty thing set in the bayverse, Raph is mentioned but no turtles show up

CWs: Implied depression and suicidal ideation, hurt no comfort

Hm.

-

Maybe it's because you haven't been sleeping much lately. Actually, it could be that you haven't been doing a very good job of taking your medicine consistently. Yeah, maybe- but you've only missed a few doses. Work is stressful, sure, but that's nothing new.

Whatever the case, it's 5:00 in the afternoon, and you've yet to drag yourself out of bed. Not because you've actually been resting, no, but there's just... something weighing you down. Something holding you here that you can't name or explain very well.

You consider reaching out to one of the guys. They always make you feel better - at least, until you say something stupid and ruin your own mood. But you... you don't really want to be around anyone right now. Especially them. They haven't seen you like this. At least not when it's been this bad. No, better to wait it out, you think. Wait until you can actually make yourself smile. Wait until you can at least act like a normal person.

You feel like you've spent most of your life waiting.

Your phone buzzes shortly. An email, maybe. Or some random app notification. You don't care enough to check.

You feel gross. Maybe a shower would help. But if you're going to shower, then you might as well work out a little first. That's supposed to help, too, or so you've heard. Hasn't yet, but maybe it's the kind of thing you have to do over the course of several months? Or maybe you're just... doing it wrong.

Sometimes it feels like you do everything wrong.

You sigh and roll over, staring at the light filtering into the room through your curtains. For some reason, you wish it was darker outside. This feeling, whatever it is, when it's dark out, it feels... well, not better, exactly, but. Easier? No, that's not right either. More understandable? You don't know. But you wish it was darker all the same.

Surely there's something you can do to feel better. It's been months of this feeling, though, with very little reprieve, despite everything you've done to try and push through it. Trying to keep a positive attitude. Trying to be kinder to yourself. Trying to distract yourself and take steps to avoid isolation when things get dangerous. Trying, trying, trying, that's all you ever do is try. You're tired. Tired of feeling like this, tired of pretending that you're h-

Crying again. You're not sure why you started. You're not sure why you can't stop.

You wonder if Raph ever feels like this. If he ever has days where it feels easier to stay down. Probably not. He's never been one to stay down - not in the time you've known him, at least. He'd probably be able to push through this like it's nothing. He'd probably be disappointed in you for not being able to-

No. You're being overly critical again. Putting sentiments in other people's heads when you've got no evidence that that's what they think. You can't possibly know what Raph would think unless you actually ask him - and that's certainly out of the question.

Still. Maybe you could... text him. It would distract you for a little while, at least, from the gaping maw that is your chest.

You roll over again and reach out, fumbling with your phone. Shaky hands. You should eat.

Maybe later.

You swipe away the notifications that have gathered. Nothing of importance, you note. No one's messaged you. The emails are all spam. Just a bunch of random shit, like you expected.

A voice in the back of your head whispers that if Raphael wanted to talk to you, then he would have messaged you first. You push the thought away, reminding yourself that relationships are a two-way street. And just because someone hasn't reached out doesn't mean they don't want to talk to you at all.

Still. Your thumbs hesitate after opening the text thread you've got with him. You... don't even have anything to say. Not really. There's nothing you feel like talking about, you just- you just want-

You don't know what you want.

You lock your phone and toss it to the side. Maybe you'll message him later.

Or maybe you'll go into the bathroom. And stare at the medicine cabinet for a while.

[002yb]

Cats and trapped for the wip please?

A recluse has no right to be this damn smug about anything, yet here he is:  needle and thread in hand, snickering to himself as he hand stitches the last seam on a project he’s been working and reworking for an embarrassing amount of time.  As far as hobbies go, he’s aware that this one is downright shameful; an actual embarrassment.  It’s only fitting for the black sheep of the family though.  It’s self-conscious coping at its finest, but Jason jokes with himself about leaning into the fucked up social leper rumor that’s been circulating about him for some time now.  It is what it is, right?  All of Gotham has their theories about the prodigal Wayne son.  Little do they know that the truth is so much worse. The family cat lays across his desk, lazily pawing at a needle cushion until the sun slanting in through the window beside them draws them into a doze.  They purr contentedly as Jason works, comfortable with what’s become a routine of peaceful calm because most days this is all there is. This is it. Because Jason hasn’t left the safety of the manor in over a year.  Because there are some days where Jason can’t even step past the threshold of his own room.  Because sometimes it’s all he can do to get out of his fucking bed without slipping into a catatonic episode of derealization from lingering trauma. (Sometimes Jason is still in that basement, the laughter of a mad man echoing off cold walls; the drag of metal on concrete scraping closer, closer).

Cat!Tailor AU (no capes). Where Jason becomes a recluse as a result of Joker induced trauma. He passes the time with a secret hobby of tailoring clothes for the house cat - Alfred.

Trapped under cut!

“Enough.” It’s an alpha’s command, but Jason fights the compulsion to obey.  It prickles painfully at the base of his skull, smothering him as he lashes out at the League's assassins with vicious kicks and a snapping maw.  Jason keeps Damian held close to his chest, thrown into a frenzy when the pup goes lax in his hold.  It’s a dangerous game to bare his teeth at any alpha, let alone the Demon’s Head, but Jason’s upper lip lifts as he snarls, knees knocking beneath the strain of ignoring a command and growling a pitiful thing with his strained throat. Ra’s al Ghul is not threatened by anyone though, least of all an omega of Jason’s pedigree.  There’s scorn in the cold glint of his eye and he commands again, “Kneel.” Everyone kneels. Jason forces himself to stand.  Even when his weaker leg gives out, Jason pushes himself back up and meets Ra’s al Ghul’s gaze directly.  An alpha’s purpose might be to conquer and provide, but omegas are not lesser or weaker.  Omegas protect and damn anyone who tries to challenge them. “Kneel.” Ra’s commands once more and this time even the obedient shadows choke on the force of the compulsion. Something primal and inhuman tears from Jason’s throat, his legs buckling and bringing him to his knees.  He pitches forward to prostrate himself, body curled protectively over Damian’s. There is no sound when Ra’s approaches him, but Jason can feel the man’s staggering and stifling presence.  It bears down on him and although Jason tries to protest the forced subjugation, he can’t.  It’s all he can do to hold onto Damian as the League assassins pull Jason upright, as they try to steal the pup from his arms.  An angry and territorial rumble sounds from deep in his chest that has Ra’s lifting his chin with contempt at the challenge to his authority. The disobedience has his heart palpitating uncomfortably in his chest.  Ra’s takes Jason’s chin roughly in his hand, his grip harsh enough that Jason has to bite back a yip as the man’s nails dig into the supple skin of Jason’s cheeks.  The alpha tilts Jason’s head so that their eyes can meet and Jason does so with a glare. “Omega.” Ra’s says, contradictorily impressed and disparaging. Jason breathes harshly through his nose, jaw clenched.  The alpha’s eyes flick down–an appraisal, a condemning judgment–before they return to hold Jason’s gaze.

AU where Jason tries to kidnap Damian from the League, but doesn't make it far at all before Ra's tracks him down. Very dead dove, very whump hahaha. Basically Jason gets thrown in a pit of the non-Lazarus variety and endures some trauma until he goes a bit feral and massacres his way out of the League.

It gets him in the same situation as before w/ Ra's & Talia tracking him down, only this time -- Jason (w/ little Damian), make it into the nearest city where they run into Renegade!Dick <- a development that happened soon after Jason's 'death'. And yes, pack dynamics ft Slade, Dick, Jason + Damian. //3//

[longwuzhere]

My Adventures with Superman Season 2 Easter Eggs

Welcome to another week of My Adventures with Superman WOW twist the knife more why don't you MAwS crew! Very emotional episode and a good one at that! OK lets get to the easter eggs!

My Easter eggs lists for season 1 is here if you haven't seen it!

My season 2 episode 1 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 2 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 3 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My season 2 episode 5 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 6 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 7 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My season 2 episode 8 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 9 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 10 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

Spoilers if you haven't seen the episode

The title of this week's episode is a reference to Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" poem specifically the line "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood". A good title for how General Sam Lane and Lois's lives "diverged" from one another after all the things that happened between the two.

Starting things off, General Sam Lane is hiding from Taskforce X and has covered the windows in Clark and Jimmy's apartment. Clark and Jimmy return and they get a knock on the door. General Lane is naturally jumpy at this but it turns out it's a package for Jimmy from S.T.A.R. Labs (I talked about the laboratory here) and the message says Jimmy is invited to speak at the symposium thanks to his Flamebird app and documentations about the occurrences around Metropolis, Superman, and the alien tech everyone's been getting. The message refers to Jimmy as Superman's "best friend" (and later on Lex Luthor calls Jimmy a "pal" both of which are often used as a way to referred to Jimmy in the comics. There's even been comics titled Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen, that lets reader's see Jimmy's adventures in relation to Superman. The latest run of it is fan-fucking-tasic! Highly recommend reading it!

In a, I'm assuming rented limo, Clark reads off who will be at the S.T.A.R Labs Symposium. First is CEO Hamilton, who we can assume is Emil Hamilton, General Wade Eiling, and Senator Hackett. Later at the symposium we even see General Eiling in the animated flesh with Hank Henshaw (who I talked about here) and sitting next to Mayor Fleming and Senator Sackett (both of whom I talked about here and they are wearing their outfits from episode 4 season 1).

Emil Hamilton makes his first appearance in the Adventures of Superman #424 (1987) [W: Marv Wolfman, P: Jerry Ordway, I: Mike Machlan, C: Tony Zuiko, L: John Costanza] as a former S.T.A.R. Labs employee who lost his job and his technology credit thanks to Luthor buying them out and claiming it as his own. He's Superman's science confidante and helped build the Phantom Zone Projector and the Superman robots. But later on he delves into more villainous territories.

General Wade Eiling I briefly talked about here but I can expand on it. Like I said in the previous post about General Eiling, he made his first appearance in Captain Atom #1 (1987). He becomes an even bigger threat to the Justice League in JLA #25 (1999) [W: Grant Morrison, P: Howard Porter, I: John Dell, C: Pat Garrahy, L: Ken Lopez]. General Eiling gets rid of his old human body and transfers his consciousness to the body of the Shaggy Man, shaved it down to what you see here. Now, he's granted super strength, near invulnerability, super stamina, and heightened sense of smell.

At the symposium, we see some tech demos with one being the invisibility vest that Mist wore in season 1 (I talk about him here) and the shield that blocks laser fire. Glad that someone on the MAwS team is a Gundam fan because that shield is designed to look like the Gundam RX-78's shield.

In a flashback to Lois's past, General Sam Lane explains to Lois what her mom's name means in Korean. Much like her comic counterparts, Eun-byeol's name starts with an E just like Ella/Elinore/Elenor Lane. Very smart of the MAwS crew to keep the consistency. Based on what was said in these flashbacks, Lois might be an only child, so no Lucy Lane, Lois's sister in this continuity.

As Lois and General Sam Lane try to hide themselves from Taskforce X, we see them get cornered in the sewers by Atomic Skull who I talked about here.

Continuing their escape, General Sam Lane and Lois meet a pawn shop owner, a friend of Sam's named Winslow Schott, a weapons and technology expert. This name drop is a reference to Superman villain, the Toyman.

Toyman's first appearance was in Action Comics #64 (1943) [Cover art by Sam Citron and Don Komisarow]. In this continuity, Winslow Schott was a talented toymaker who turned to the life of crime in order to get his thrills. In his debut he makes two robberies with his toys, but Superman stops his third robbery. Toyman captures Lois and attempts to kill her but was stopped by Superman.

In the silver age, Toyman makes his first appearance in Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen #9 (1955) [W: Otto Binder, P: Curt Swan, I: Ray Burnley]. Here Toyman goes by Winslow Percival Schott, which becomes his full name from then to this day. In the comic, some crooks kidnap Jimmy and use him to answer some Superman trivia on a quiz show.

Winslow would be revamped again in Superman #13 (1988) [W&P: John Byrne, I: Karl Kesel, C: Tony Zuiko, L: John Costanza] where he is a digruntled toy designer employee who was fired for not being able to adapt to what children wanted at the time. So as a result of his firing Winslow would go after his former employers and kill them with his toys. This was origin of Winslow I am more familiar with thanks to Superman the Animated Series (highly recommend watching that cartoon too because its incredible and also Toyman in that show is FUCKING creepy).

There have also been other people who took up the Toyman name. Jack Nimball, the second Toyman uses the same gimmicks as Winslow, but Jack is dressed as a Jester. You may recognize the design in the Super Friends cartoon. The third and heroic Toyman was Hiro Okamura who was a rich Japanese teen with incredible intelligence and mechanical skills. Hiro would be most famous in the pop culture zeitgeist when he, Superman, and Batman teamed up together to stop a giant kryptonite asteroid from colliding with the Earth as seen in Superman/Batman #6 (2004) and the Superman/Batman: Public Enemies animated movie.

At the end of the episode, Clark feeling alone after overhearing Lois agree with her father that Clark was weird and hearing that Jimmy helped Lex get his start, he uses the beacon to contact Kara, his cousin who I talked about here. So I have a weird theory. It is possible that the person flying over Earth is not "Zod" but actually Kara?. In season 1's finale "Zod" uses the "kneel before me" line making all of us think its Zod, but the credits list the character with a female VA. So my idea is this was Kara receiving the signal from the beacon.

We seen in next weeks episode preview Kara will be showing up and that close up on the bracelet makes me think this is how she compacts the armor. Will I be right? Who knows, but all I can say is:

Very good episode this week can't wait to see what they'll do with Kara next week!

My season 2 episode 1 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 2 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 3 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My season 2 episode 5 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 6 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 7 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My season 2 episode 8 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 9 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My season 2 episode 10 Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

and if you missed it my Season 1 Easter eggs list is here

[projectthauma]

this post is to let maw know that raven (DC)'s app (personality section) was amended!