#you damn kids get off my lawn

[impossibleprincess35]

Me when I see fanfic writers charging for commissions.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

::through gritted teeth::

Youths

[officialgleamstar]

okay now that ive been harassed (joke. fond.) by a gaggle of teenagers in the middle of the night, i need to get some sleep. gnight yall ^-^!!!

[a-tenno-called-prin]

If one more person calls Albrecht's pager a flip phone, I am going to spontaneously die of old age.

[throwingbread]

Forever disappointed by the lack of eye-related horror in Corinthian fic. That’s like writing vampire fic where no one bleeds. What is even the point.

[hallsofvalhalla]

a trend I hope dies: long af fanfic on ao3 written in all lowercase like it's a tumblr text post.

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it exceptionally funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

jisung turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and jisung look at each other and sigh. jisung takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice: “you might be the sexiest person on earth."

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[safely-overdosing]

i feel myself getting progressively too old for tumblr. like yall are still stuck in 2014 with some of your queer and autism takes, shits cringe to look at, honest to god

[accursedthing]

People on here love to post vines and say "tiktok can't do this 😏" and then none of the vines are even funny anymore

[loveinhawkins]

“Why are you wearing cologne?” Dustin asks after barely one second in the van.

“I’m not,” Eddie says, and promptly wants to die at how unconvincing that was. It’s not even technically a lie…

He makes it out of the school parking lot with Dustin saying jackshit, so for a little while, he thinks he’s gotten away with it.

More fool him.

Dustin abruptly lunges to the side, all up in his face like the world’s most dedicated sniffer dog.

“Ew, gross! Get off, man, I’m gonna crash,” Eddie says, even though they’ve been at a stop light for the past minute.

“Okay, correction,” Dustin says, drawing back. “Why are you wearing Steve’s cologne?”

Eddie stares into the middle distance, prays for The Upside Down to come and swallow him up.

An agonising silence.

“Oh my god,” Dustin whisper-screams. “Oh my god.”

“Look, just—”

“Oh my god!”

And yup, ow, that’s definitely become a full blown scream now, and double ow, Dustin has just socked him one in the arm.

“Hey!”

“What the fuck, Eddie?! How could you not—”

“Jesus! Take a damn chill pill, Henderson, I swear to—”

“Since when you do you say shit like—oh my God, Steve says shit like that. You can’t let him get to you like this, Eddie, you’re too young to die.”

“What does that even mean?”

Dustin keeps jiggling Eddie by the arm as he pulls up to Dustin’s house. Even when his stomach is jangling with nerves, he can’t fight a smile at the kid’s antics.

“Holy shit, this is big,” Dustin says with wide eyes, and it bothers Eddie that he can’t get a hold of what sort of expression is on his face. “This is huge.”

And all of a sudden, it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore.

“It’s not,” Eddie says quietly. “It’s really not. It doesn’t have to be, like… look, Dustin, can we just—if it bothers you, just drop it, and we can pretend like—”

“Wait, what? No.” And now Eddie can read the remorse on his face. “Shit, sorry. Eddie, I didn’t mean, like… big in a bad way, I swear.”

And goddamn it, Eddie trusts him. Of course he does.

“Okay.” He lets out a long sigh, tipping his head back in his seat. “Okay.”

“I just meant… like, you know The Royal Family? In England.”

…What.

“Oh, please, run with this analogy,” Eddie says, a mixture of curious and hysterical, “I’m dying to see where it goes.”

“You know, when they have news, they put it outside the… Palace? Like, on a stand. So people know.”

“Are you fucking implying that you are the public to our… wow, I’m so sorry, Henderson.” Eddie can’t take it anymore; he wheezes with laughter, can’t hide how relieved he sounds. “Next time I’ll ruin your front lawn and put a huge fucking sign there, then you’ll know that—”

“I didn’t mean it literally, asshole. I just…” Dustin shrugs. “Just meant if you wanted to, like… mention it. It would be cool. It is cool.”

“Cool,” Eddie echoes faintly.

“Cool,” Dustin repeats, emphatic.

Jesus Christ, I love you so much.

“Aw, Henderson,” Eddie says, “were you gonna make us a card or something?”

“Do you want a card?” Dustin says dryly.

And yeah, he’s being a little shit about it, but there’s also a note of sincerity hiding in there that has Eddie fighting a lump in his throat. He chuckles through it, flicks Dustin’s forehead.

“C’mon, get out before your mom thinks I’ve kidnapped you.”

“She thinks you’re an angel now, and you know it. It’s horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a Saint.”

Eddie waits until Dustin’s at his front door before reversing, watches him with silent fondness as he greets his cat.

He says through the side window, “Hey, Dustin?”

Dustin turns back. “Yeah?”

“We’d have told you first anyway. We were gonna, I swear.” Eddie scoffs. Smiles. “Not our fault you’re Sherlock Holmes, man.”

Dustin smirks, but his eyes are soft. “It was pretty elementary.”

[firep0wder]

huh. who's Rhadamanthus

I was gonna start transcribing dog at the door playing in my brain but I mistyped and somehow my phone decided I was going to write Rhadamanthus. I think I typed rherez intending to type there. Whatthe fuck

[svgvru]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑?

creds to @y-yearning : PUSSYHAVER OLDER DILFIE GOJO ND MID-TWENTIES OR TWENTIES READER FUCKING GOJO REFUCKINGBLOG OPPELASLELEKJBRHFVG I NEED IT.

YOU ALWAYS ADORED YOUR NEIGHBOR. satoru gojo was a sweet man, albeit one with a shit ton of personality. he was much older than you, you estimate around double your age, but he didn't look old, at least from your yard. in fact, he was quite musclar, the white stuble on on his jaw, and the small streaks of grey in his hair were the only indicators of his age. but when you first came into the neighborhood, fresh out of college and a newer home owner, he showed you the ropes. he really was nice, and prettier upfront.

satoru gojo also had kids. he a husband of his own, seemingly settled down and happy. although, that wasn't exactly true. you had no way of knowing, but satoru's arranged marriage wasn't exactly a thing he was happy about.

but when the adorable smile of yours was directed his way in the mornings, he couldn't help but be just a little happier.

this older neighbor of yours give you tips to keep your lawn neat, listen to your random array of hobbies--he'd even indulge in them so you were lonely, he'd happily accept whatever sweets you'd get him, and he'd listen to all of your problems. he spent more bonding time with his younger neighbor, than with his husband.

one problem he listened to in particular, was money. as someone built from old money he has plently.

"why don't you come babysit for my kids? me and my husband are going out this weekend, we could use someone to watch them." once he stated his price you immediately nodded, eager to receive such a large amount of money per hour. plus, you had never been inside of his house, you wondered what his style was. "gladly!"

and when the day came, you were quite nervous. they were going to be out pretty late, so you brought clothes to sleep in and any necessities you needed.

satoru opened the door with his warm dimpled smile when you knocked. "glad to see you! and welcome to my home," he stepped back and allowed you through the door. you looked in awe as your eyes scanned the interior. the house looks bigger on the inside, and it was beautifully furnished. "your house is beautiful, i don't want to step inside," you chuckle lightly, feeling as if you might ruin the rich air of it if you fully stepped inside. satoru laughs, "c'mon."

when you step inside, he closes the door before calling two names. you see two little kids run towards him. the bigger one, likely around five, seemed to have a lot of energy. "this is saori," satoru puts his hand on her head. she had long straight white hair with a few black streaks in them.

"this is five-year-old i warned you about," satoru starts, the girl interrupts him with a frown, "hey!" satoru chuckles, "she has a lot of energy."

the smaller kid trotts up to him. "this is shiro," satoru picks up the kid, holding him gently in his arms. the kid looks exactly like him, bright blue eyes, dimpled smile, and fluffy white hair alike. "this is the three-year-old. he's a lot calmer than saori."

the kids looked pretty nice, it didn't seem like you were going to have any problems. satoru explains the rules, telling you their schedules and anything else. "come on, suguru! i'm ready to go!" a man with straight black hair walks down stairs dressed in a matching suit with satoru. "i'm here, damn."

they soon leave, satoru waving goodbye, and now you're left with the kids.

"let's have a good afternoon, yeah?"

you yawned and checked the clock, nestled comfortably on the couch. it was pretty late, and the kids had been gone to sleep. your eyes drifted shut, only opening when you hear the large slam of the front door. you shoot up, looking worried before you realize it's satoru. yet, he looks visibly pissed off. "wha- oh. you could've slept in the guest room y'know," satoru mumbles, carding his hand through his hair. he visibly relaxes when he sees you aswell.

"what's wrong? if you don't mind me asking," you ask him, tilting your head. you slowly get up off of the couch and walk towards him.

"just a fight, nothing to worry about," satoru pinches the bridge of his nose. "you look pretty upset, i think is something to worry about . . . just a little." your hand gently grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. and even in the darkness of the room, you could tell his eyes were watering.

it felt wrong how close you were, but you couldn't let him be so sad. his smile was one of the things you loved most about him, you hated when you saw it disappear.

when your hand cupped his cheek, you felt as if you crossed a line, but it also felt so right. "gojo—" his lips smash against yours, interrupting your words. it was wrong, but you couldn't help but kiss him back, parting your lips and entangling your tongue with his. "satoru," he whispers, sepreating your lips only to put them back to together. "call me satoru."

the man is taller than you, his arms wrap around your neck as you kiss, feet drifting closer and closer to the couch.

"mm, fuck--" he whispers into your lips, falling back on the comfortable cushion of the couch, pulling you down on top of him. it was adorable how desprate he was, perhaps something was really wrong with his marriage. but that was a thought for after this. your current thoughts are consumed by the older man below you.

satoru whimpers, diamond eyes glossy as he looks up at you. fuck--he sounded sweet. and he looked the part too.

his thigh rubs at your growing buldge, the look in his eyes full of desire. "goj- satoru, are you sure-" satoru's trembling lip interrupts you, "please." please? you never thought he was the type to plead. you nod, "okay."

your hands messily undress him, tearing off his suit until you get to his boxers with confusion. "oh! i- i forgot to tell you," satoru chews on his bottom lip, hands covering the large damp spot on his boxers. although his face turns red when he sees the glint in your eyes. "is- is that fine?" your eyes flicker to his, almost angry he would assume you wouldn't think it was fine.

slipping off his boxers, your mouth watering at the sight. satoru gojo's pussy puffy and hairy, in your face.

your face dips between his legs, your lips mouthing at his pussy. you spread his pussy with your thumbs, licking and sucking at him. "a-ah!" satoru whines, legs twitching as you make out with his cunt. "oh fuck! you're so good, so much--fuck!" his eyes roll and cross, hands entangled in your hair. "oh! 'm cumming! 'm cumming!"

his legs clamp around your head as he squirts in your face. your neighbor, just squirted in your face.

you lift your head from your legs, panting and licking your lips. satoru's eyes flutter, looking up at you with a shaky smile. sitting up, you smile at his throbbing clit. "didn't know you could-" satoru yelps when you lift up his lower half to your face. your lips attach to his clit, sucking and licking on his pink clit. satoru laughs, "you're so energetic! that because your young?"

your eyes look down and lock with his. "i just like your body," you mumble into his pussy, "so good."

satoru whines as you eat him out. "gunna squirt in m'face again?" you whisper, closing your eyes at his taste. satoru doesn't answer, although you can guess why his legs shut around your head again. strings of moans and your name leaves his lips. "pleasepleasepleeease," he whispers.

his legs tremble as he squirts with a yell again. satoru's legs fall slack in your hold before you set his lower half down. satoru looks up at you with low eyes, seeing his release all over your lips and chin.

"need you do that again. just on m'cock this time," you whisper pushing down your grey sweats, staring down at him with lustful eyes. satoru smiles, spreading his glistening thighs for you.

all thoughts or awareness of anything else are thrown from his head when his eyes lock onto your cock, when he fills the tip push between his puffy and red folds, when you sink into him and fill him to the brim. fuck- you're bigger than suguru. "mmph! f-fu . . . hah," satoru swallows when your cock stretches his cunt perfectly, like you were made for him.

you lean down, pushing his flexing thighs with you. his calves rest on your shoulders and you interwine his fingers with yours, holding them above his head.

"f-fuck! you feel s'good," you moan, focusing on the wet sound of his cunt taking your cock. and clearly the squelching and the wet skin slapping was turning him on as his walls squeeze you as if not wanting to leave. you lean and press your lips to his, smiling at how his eyes were unfocused and cross. your tongues messily tangible, saliva dripping down the corner of his lips.

"ngh—! a-ah . . . AHnNg!" no thoughts were in the older man's head when he felt your cum shoot into him, the warmth making him smile as he milks your cock, cumming himself.

his awareness and judgement had long been thrown into the dark depths of his mind. him nor you even noticed suguru watching you with a boner straining at his pants. then again, how could he focus? his pussy felt a bit too good, better than he's felt in a while simply because of work interference.

saori always wanted a little sister.

𝗗𝗢𝗡'𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗔𝗡 𝗘𝗠𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗬𝗘𝗘? JOIN?

current employees: @pulpbeing @flimsyichigo @honeybleed @icaruien @banquetlord @whiteholesun

<3 this is took me 4ever, but i've going thru a writer's block, i feel proud of myself lol. i don't know if anyone is going to like this, but this is what popped in my head. y'all have also thoroughly convinced me that satoru is a squirter... btw i was thinking about this image while making this. don't even ask where i got it from :D

[oneforthemunny]

scorcher |dom!eddie munson x brat!reader|

prompt: from the #munnysummergame I decided to write one of my own lol. kick off the writing challenge bc it's so fun, and I had this idea lol.

☀️- eddie comes home to see you sunbathing...topless ;) can be dom!sub! if you'd like, or sweet smutty goodness. whatever you'd like it to be! have fun with it!

contains: 18+ minors dni. dom/sub themes, voyeruism, nipple play, nipple clamps, language, restraints (bandana), spanking, p in v sex.

It was hot.

Too hot for Hawkins, Indiana. An unheard of heat wave that left the midwestern town muggy and humid, scorching with the kind of heat that had you hustling towards the AC, sitting in front of box fans and cooling off.

Eddie's trailer was a sauna, the AC unit old and rickety, not doing much to combat the unusual rising temperatures. Eddie wiped his brow, already stripped down, loose t-shirt hanging around his neck. Even with the blasting AC in the music store, Eddie had gone through nearly an entire stick of deodorant, dabbing napkins and paper towels in between guitar tune ups and lessons to keep himself from sweating through another shirt.

Everyone in the trailer park was tucked away, sprinklers still spraying water, yet there were no kids squealing about, far too hot for anyone to be out. No one, except you.

Lying on the grass on a spread, faded beach towel, you lied on your tummy, arms propped up and skimming the magazine beneath you. The shiny pages reflected in the sun, hot to the touch with each careful flick of your wrist, but Eddie wasn't concerned with that; oh no.

His attention was brought to your naked top, breasts hanging onto the towel, nipples barely covered by your folded arms. You were practically exposed; topless, on his front lawn.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, baby, are you serious?" Eddie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You tilted your head up, lip tucking between your teeth in a glinting little smile, shades falling down the slope of your nose teasingly. "Hi, baby," You purred, flipping another page with a hum. "How was work? I missed you, handsome."

Eddie was less impressed with your sheepish smile, areoles peeping up from their place on the towel, becoming more and more exposed with every rise of your chest. He rolled his tongue down the side of his mouth, eyes cutting around him. He'd told you to behave, pressed a sweet kiss to the side of your head, muttering to your sleeping frame to have a good day, be a good girl for him; but you never were.

It had been a while since the two of you really played. More than just a few playful slaps and threatening words. You'd been patient, he'd give you that, even though he knew it was coming soon- the inevitable bratty break. He supposed with the heat mixed with your frustration, today was your breaking point.

"What're you doin', huh?" Eddie grit, hands on his hips, his shadow covering your body.

You tilted your chin up at him, frowning lightly, like you couldn't possibly imagine why he was upset. "I'm just getting some sun, Ed." You sighed contently, pulling your shades down the slope of your nose. The raise in your arm off the towel gave Eddie a full view of your exposed chest, pebbled nipples that left him blushing, and not from the Hawkins' sun, for once.

"Why don't you join me, baby? Lookin' a little pasty. Some color would do ya good." You grinned, settling back down onto the towel.

Eddie snorted, shaking his head. His curls were pulled back in a low bun, bangs sticking to his furrowed brow. "What're you doing out here with no top on? Your tits are out." Eddie flung a hand towards you, ringless because they kept swelling in the heat.

You looked down at your exposed chest, lips rolling when you looked back up at him. "Hm, well, I didn't want tan lines, baby. They look so ugly when I try to wear those little dresses you like." You purred.

Eddie knew what you were doing, and he was damned to not let you know, even if his cock was lurching at the thought of you in that tight, leather dress he loved so much- always ruined you in it.

"Can you put some lotion on my back, Ed?" You asked simply, moving to grab the pale pink bottle discarded carelessly in the grass. "Don't wanna get burnt and red." You held it up to him, right boob fully exposed to him and whoever else was lurking around.

Eddie snatched it out of your hand with a grow, catching your own wrist with it. "Oh, something's gonna be red soon, honey. Get up."

You tried to bite back your grin, barefeet padding through the grass, stepping over dandelions and rocks, Eddie's hand holding your wrist in a vice. "Ow! The steps are hot!" You jumped back on the steel steps of the trailer, bouncing from toe to toe.

Eddie rolled his eyes hard, setting his foot on the bottom, spread so his other held the door unlatched. Ever the gentleman, even when he was about to punish you. You bounced on the smooth, white tops of his Reebok's, letting his hands grip your naked waist to steady you while you avoided the hot metal inside.

"Get in front of the couch." Eddie growled, a firm slap to your ass while he shut the screen door with a low groan.

Your body was covered in goosebumps, nipples hardening at the cool air from inside the trailer. You knelt obediently in front of the couch, resting back on your thighs, hands on top of your thighs. You tracked Eddie with your eyes, squirming slightly at the menacing look he gave you.

"You think this is funny? Laying topless where anyone could see you?" Eddie snapped, brow raising.

You huffed. "There wasn't anybody out-"

"-That you know." Eddie sneered. "What is Mrs. Hall's kids came out, saw you topless, and then you're getting a public indecency charge? Or that creep Frank coulda been spying on you? And I'm not here."

Your heart deflated slightly, excitement draining out of your system gently. You hadn't thought of that, truthfully.

"I'm sorry, Ed." You said genuinely, eyes wide and sorry when you met his. "I was just..."

Eddie lifted a brow. "Just what? Tryna piss me off?"

You paused. "Well, yeah, not piss off but... I just wanted to play!" You whined, hands slapping the top of your thighs gently. "I thought you'd think it was fun!"

Eddie's eyes bulged. "You thought I would think you showing your tits off to the neighborhood would be fun?" Eddie scoffed. "If you wanted to play, you shoulda just asked. Not go topless and parading around outside."

Your lip jutted, cheeks heating at the chastisement. "I wasn't parading." You mumbled.

Eddie's brow raised, eyes narrowing at you. "Enough, alright? Any more out of you and I'm gagging you. That what you want?"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest with a shake of your head. Still so bratty. Eddie shook his head. "Arms down. You know better." He snapped, flinging through the cabinets of the kitchen. You wondered what he was looking for, too scared to ask.

Eddie shoved something in his pocket, stomping down the hall towards his bedroom. You craned your neck to look, listening over the loud hum of the air conditioning for any sign of what he was getting. You knew it would probably be the paddle- or worse, the cane.

Eddie came back in with his bandana, paddle-less and cane-less to your surprise. His eyes stayed on yours, holding your gaze in his menacing one before sitting in front of you. "Stand up." He ordered, that firm, commanding tone he always slipped into when he was punishing you.

You squirmed but scrambled to your knees, letting him pull you in between his legs. "Turn around." Eddie patted your hip gently. "Put your hands behind your back."

You obliged, touching your wrists together before he tied them with the bandana. You grinned at the choice in restraints, lack of cuffs meaning he was going to go easy on you.

Eddie pulled the knot firmly, satisfied that it would keep your wrists bound. His eyes lingered on your bikini bottoms, riding up into the crack of your ass, teasing him with the cheekiness of the cut. He'd been with you when you bought them, modeling them in the dressing room before he joined you, diving tongue first into your pussy.

"Better take these off, don't ya think?" Eddie muttered, hands tracing up and down your exposed hip, grinning at the way you shivered. "Don't think we'll be needing these."

You shook your head in agreement, rolling your lip between your teeth at the delicate pull of the strings, falling down your legs easily into a puddle on the green carpet.

Eddie's hands rubbed up and down your exposed flesh, squeezing at your hips, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. "You just wanted to show off, hm? Wanted to show everyone what's mine?" He asked, voice low and gravelly.

You whined, shaking your head. "No, Ed." You whined, keeping your head forwards, eyes trained on the wall. "Just didn't want tan lines, promise." You muttered.

"Promise?" Eddie's voice lilted, pulling back. You could feel him behind you, fishing for something in his back pocket. "You know you were just trying to get me upset. Being bratty and throwing a fit, weren't you? You wanted me to get upset with you, didn't you? To punish you?"

You shook your head, though your thighs clenched at the thought. "No," You sighed heavily, his hand smoothing up and down your tummy, cupping your boobs barely before running back down towards your aching and exposed pussy.

"Hmm," Eddie hummed lowly, his pinky barely swiping over your slit, leaving your knees buckling at the touch. "I think you're lying to me."

"That's alright, baby." Eddie cooed before you could huff and retaliate. "I'll teach ya a lesson, don't you worry. I'll give you exactly what you want."

You felt something hard trail up your sternum, dropping your chin to look before Eddie's hand caught your jaw. "Eyes forward." He snapped.

Your heart pounded, unsure but obediently following Eddie's command. You felt the foreign object trail all over your hot skin, up and down your tummy, your under boob, around your nipples.

"You wanted to show off your pretty little tits for everyone, hm?" Eddie growled, his nose brushing your temple. His free hand moved to your boobs, cupping them before thumbing over your nipples, rolling the nubs until they hardened and stood perk and erect for him.

"You want to show them off so badly? Why don't you show them off like this?" Eddie grit, before your body jolted.

The clamping sensation of a clothespin biting and snapping onto your nipples had the breath leaving your lungs, a new and uncomfortable sensation. The smooth wood was firm but not unbearable, not like the metal ones Eddie saw at the sex shop. The mouth of the pin clamped onto your budding nipples, holding onto them with tight pressure that had you wanting to rub them desperately, dull aching that sent shockwaves straight to your core.

You gasped, Eddie fixing the other one on your nipple, moving so he could see your face. He grinned, taking in your scrunched expression, unpleasant at best, bouncing from toe to toe like that might alleviate some of the pain.

"Hurt?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side. You nodded. "Good. Bend over." He plopped down on the couch, pulling you over his lap, careful of the makeshift clamps you tried to rip off.

You were dangling forward, hands tied tight behind your back, Eddie's hand over your hip, holding you firmly into place. His hand rubbed over the flesh of your ass, squeezing your right cheek hard enough to pull a yelp from you.

"Oh, you know that didn't hurt." Eddie mocked you, cooing and mean, leaving you blistering with embarrassment- throbbing from his tone. "But this," Eddie brought his hand down, an upward sweeping motion that cracked down on your ass, leaving you lurching forward with a small gasp. "Hurt. Didn't it?"

You whined, wiggling against his grasp, the steady burning building on your ass mixing with the pulling and dull ache from the clothespins that came with every squirm.

"You were so bad, today. After I worked all day? And this is what I have to come home to." Eddie shook his head at you, flattened palm zeroing in on your hot cheeks.

"'M sorry, Ed!" You panted, hips wiggling just right against his right knee, your core rubbing against his leg.

"I don't think you are, honey." Eddie tutted with a heavy, dramatic sigh. You cried out at the two sharp hits the the top of your thighs, the crease of your ass. Oh, he knew you were gonna cum from this, he had to. If it was a real punishment, he'd stick to the fatty parts of your ass.

"I think I should take you outside. Spank ya out there, since you want to go around flashing everyone." Eddie hummed, tongue poking out. His eyes bounced back and forth, following his hand that smacked the juicy skin around with every harsh spank.

"Maybe make you go stand out there with those hands tied. Whaddya think, baby? Show everyone what happens to bad girls around here?" Eddie hissed.

You knew he wouldn't, far too possessive and not necessarily wanting to have to explain to a cop that this is what you two did- a sex thing. Yet the threat left you pulsing, grinding down further and further on his leg.

"You'd like that wouldn't you? Like everyone to see what I do to you? How I handle you, hm?" Eddie purred in your ear, another stinging slap to the center of your ass, leaving you clenching around nothing. You were sure you were dripping down your leg now, coated in your own stick arousal.

"Want everyone to see how I punish you, hm? How I keep you in line when you're such a bad girl?" Eddie growled, two punctuating slaps to your ass that had your head reeling. The clothespins were brushing against his leg, only aiding in the tight, mean tugging that had you crying out.

"Yes! Please, Ed, please!" Eddie was sure you didn't even know what you were begging for, something- sensation, no doubt. For him to let you cum, and he would. Just not that easily.

Eddie pulled you off his lap abruptly, setting you with a small bounce onto the couch. You hissed at the pain, at the lack of friction, the burning feeling on your ass and nipples.

Eddie stood, furiously pulling down his pants and boxers. "Over the couch. Over the couch, now." He growled, eyes dark and blown. It made you shiver, scrambling to bend over the couch.

Eddie rode you, one hand gripping your bound hands, the other slapping your ass and pulling your makeshift clamps, pounding you out furiously over the back of the couch. You felt suffocated in the heat, Eddie's body and your own covered in sweat while he rutted into you, like a dog in heat.

The inside of the trailer went up a few degrees, thick and steamy with the tangy smell of sweat and your release, but neither one of you seemed to mind.

[paradiseismine]

Twice as wet - Mike Wheeler x reader

Part 1/2.

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x f!reader

Warnings: slight NSFW, but tasteful I swear ok bye

It was a hot summer’s day, but not as hot as you. Your hair was shinier than ever and your smile was to die for, after all. Your confidence in your body had increased in the last year or so, and ever since you moved to Hawkins a month ago, it had sky rocketed, for some reason. You had just turned 18 and were ready to meet some cute guys.

Just not today.

Your mom had hired some neighbourhood kid to mow the lawn, and told you to stay home all afternoon to pay him afterwards, since she would be out to run some errands. So you sat on your couch, bored in a bikini and a pair of your shortest shorts, unable to jump in the backyard pool until that damn boy’s arrival.

At 1 p.m. sharp, your doorbell rang. You walked to the door and opened it gently.

- Uh, hello, are-are you y/n? - The boy asked, his head slightly tilted down so he would look you in the eyes. Man, was he TALL.

- Hi, that’s me - you smiled sweetly, trying to remember his name - and you’re… Michael, right? My mom told me to wait for you.

- Yes, that’s right… You can call me Mike, though - he scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, licking his lips.

That really got your attention. You examined his face for a second. His perfect jet black hair, his fair skin, plump red lips, delicate little freckles… Ugh. He’s so beautiful. Your lips cracked open as you wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. It was nearly a trance.

- So uh, should I get started on the lawn? - he grinned, shyly.

- Oh, yes - you said, as your eyes shot wide open, breaking that trance. - Sure. Come, I’ll show you where everything is.

You showed him around the garden and the garage: where the lawn mower was, how it worked and the area he needed to mow: your front yard first, and then the backyard, just around the pool. You tried to keep your cool and be normal about it, hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring when he arrived.

But he did. Mike Wheeler had been 18 for a few months right now, and he couldn’t believe such a pretty girl would check him out like that. He also tried to keep his cool, of course. He needed those summer jobs to afford a new guitar, and wouldn’t risk doing anything to displease you.

After the front yard was done, Mike circled around the house and got to the backyard - just to see you sunbathing near the pool.

Fuck, she’s perfect, he thought, as you got up and turned around, giving him a good look of your figure. What he wasn’t expecting, though, is that you jumped in the water a few seconds later.

As you emerged from the water, your hair darker and your eyes slightly squinted because of the sun, he couldn’t help but also notice all the little water droplets that were dripping from your face to your chest.

He was definitely checking you out. Ugh, thank God, you thought. Finally a cute boy I can obsess over. Because of course, you wouldn’t obsess over anyone who wasn’t obsessed with you too. As the work was all done, he put the lawn mower back on its place and walked over to you.

- Thank you so much, darling - you said, batting your eyelashes at him, your legs dangling from the edge of the pool. - There’s a red envelope on the fridge with your payment. I guess you could grab it later…

- Later? - he said, confused.

- Yes, after a little swim with me… in here - you said, smiling as if you had just offered him a drink of water.

Mike chuckled. He was definitely taking a sip.

- I mean… c-can I? - he asked, just in case.

- Of course, i got plenty of towels you could dry off with later… my mom won’t mind, she’s not coming back home until, at least, 7 p.m… What do you say?

Mike smiled at you as he yanked his shirt from the back of his neck. Just that single movement already made your insides twitch. Oh, that boy was in for a treat.

As he took off his pants and sneakers, you simply watched, no longer worrying about getting caught staring at him. He sat down next to you on the edge of the pool, his cheeks a bit red. Maybe from the sun, maybe from shyness.

You leaned in to kiss him, there was no point in waiting. He kissed you back softly, his hands grabbing your waist gently, as if he was afraid to scare you off. You were so pretty, he couldn’t believe it. Your right hand reached for his face, caressing it lightly, as you held his arm with your left hand and slowly guided him to actually enter the pool, so you would both stand up in it. Now your bodies were touching, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your heart beating out of your chest as you grabbed a fistful of his perfect hair and scratched his back with your nails, now fully making out with him.

He reached for your thighs and brought you up to his waist, intensifying your lust. You wrapped your legs around him, holding yourself in place, as his hands slowly left your butt after a few good grips. You had never been so grateful for that pool.

Mike Wheeler had the biggest boner of his life. His underwear was white and now completely wet, plus he had a hard-on - great. What if you were offended by it? Was that uncalled for? Those questions left his brain the second your soft hand reached down under the water.

Damn, that boy was packing some heat down there. He jumped out of his skin with your touch, at first, but melted into it a second later.

- I know you’re kissing me in the pool just to get me twice as wet - you said, chuckling, as your foreheads were touching. - But maybe we should continue this on dry land.

- Sure, whatever you want, princess - he said, enchanted by you.

- Whatever I want, huh? - you put your arms around his neck, tilting your head to the side. - That’s good to hear. I might take advantage of this later, though.

[evilminji]

Okay it's been BUGGING ME...

Because it's been years n I've never seen it used?

Let's say you're Reincarnated as an Uchiha. Le Fuck ™. WELL'P, you're fuckin doomed, ain't cha? But WAIT! You think. You DONT want to die!

What can you do?

You don't stand a chance IN HELL against Super Ninjas!

You KNOW WHAT YOU DO? What you should FUCKIN DO?

Don't BE THERE.

In FACT? Be SO FAR Not There, that there is NO WAY IN HELL they could possibly REACH you! Ever! Even a LITTLE BIT. Not even the HOKAGE could! Not ALL THE NIN IN LEAF!

You know where that IS?

The👏 God👏 Damned👏 Summons👏 Realm👏!

Good FUCKING LUCK stabbing you THERE motherfuckers! You packed a BAG. You brought RATIONS. Today is the day you CAMP OUT FOR A WEEK. Are your potential Summons impressed by you squatting on their lawn? Irrelevant. Fuck off, maybe!

You explain the situation and ask they not be a dick about it.

Yeah, a contract would be nice! But LIVING is better. Lend you their lawn! In FACT, what's it gonna take to immigrate? I'ma stay until it become physically hazardous to my health! FUCK ninja perma-wars!

And if they DO have to send you back? Can they send you back somewhere OTHER then where you originally stood?

PLUS!

Reverse Summons!

The "Fuck This", get out of stabbings, free card! Can your Summons reverse Summons JUST themselves or can they take other people? Say, small people? Like kids. If you sprinkle your Summons across the Uchiha youth, secretly or otherwise, when murder time comes? Can you just...

NOPE™

And fuck off with like? 50+ kids to the Summons Realm? Yeah, it's an energy debt you'd have to pay BACK to your Summons, but what Animal Spirit is cool with the butchery of kids? Take it. You'll siphon all your Chakra too um each day every day for the rest of your life if you gotta. Live like a farmer.

Frankly you'd prefer it.

Just?

There is a set a hand signs that has a One Shot Guaranteed "Removes You From Situation" Move? And no one USES IT! Yeah, it's ALSO dangerous. But against certain death? Why NOT use the Dangerous Maybe Death Jutsu?

[olderthannetfic]

Obvious Disclaimer that this is not about any specific anon in particular, not about OTNF themself, but that my following rant might *slightly* punch down on people who ARE, well, older than net fics are.

But my honest opinion is that I really don’t like it when us old heads tend to sorta…talk down to? “Adultsplain”, if that’s even a thing? To The Gen Zs, by being like “damn kids! back in my day we never used our real name or posted selfies or posted about our personal life at all!” Don’t get me wrong, I’m one of those people who never posted the real me — but not because I was anonymous and cared about online safety, because I was a liar 😂 That being said, there ARE older people who definitely over-shared or “doxxed” themselves and still do, and there’s younger people who don’t!

I also feel like being “ha, these stupid KIDS who post about their FANDOM LIFE on TIK TOCK under their REAL NAME AND FACE where IRLS CAN SEE THEM, how STUPID” is not doing anyone any favors. Is that, technically, a smart thing for kids to do? No. Has it become normalized? Yes. And does that suck for people who might be bullied or outed or whatever cuz they genuinely are dumb and don’t know better and then someone they don’t like sees their stuff? Yes.

We all talk about how there’s no more kids spaces on the internet and how that’s a shame, but then five seconds later we’ll reblog that one “At any time I’m at risk of seeing a 14 year olds opinion and that’s why I hate it here” post. There’s really so few kid spaces on the net now, that’s true. We should extend empathy and let the teens be obnoxious and pretentious in peace, rather than making it a point to “ratio” or “roast them.” Idk personally I’d be completely unbothered if some 14 year old insulted my fic or my ship or whatever. I’d just block and move on, no need to try to argue with them.

And also, not all kids are even pretentious or obnoxious! I’m not saying we all need to take the kids under our wings, but we should be careful about not hating them just for being in their teens years, you know?

Also… telling a teenager to not post PII or not get into discourse or not have social media or whatever will NOT work the way you want it to 😭 kids are by default a little bit oppositionally defiant so telling some rando teen to Get Off Your Lawn (blog) rather than just blocking them, will encourage said teen to Stay On Your Lawn.

I just hate how it’s become normal for adults to talk down to teens online. I was harassed by adults online as a kid, then years and years and years later i went through my own “Older Than You™️”phase where I myself was a shit to teenagers, and I truly regret that so much. To this day I still need to make an effort to be careful. I saw on Twitter where an adult posted a DM from a 13 year old, mocking them. The DM said “I’m 14 next year, can I follow you? Please don’t groom me.” And the adult OP was laughing at how stupid the dm was. A few years ago, I would’ve been one of the people retweeting that and rolling my eyes at the child. Now im disgusted by the people who WERE laughing at them.

And again I’m obviously not saying we should be “nice” to the teenagers who mock us for our ships or who virtue signal too hard. But we also don’t need to make fun of their CARRDS or call them Puri-teens or rag on them just for being 17 or younger, yk?

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Teens aren't 'puriteens' just for being young, dude. They have to also be puritanical bullies.

I find the stuff about real names hilarious because, actually, if you're really Internet Old™, then you probably did use your real name... it was right there in your university e-mail address! Or your random early ISP address if your stepdad got it for you and thought the university format was the default. Thanks, stepdad.

I've done every single dumb thing from going to meet my internet pen pal at an Alice Cooper concert to flying to Ireland from Japan to stay with a fandom friend I'd never met without telling anyone where I was going and without a credit card or enough cash to flee if I had to. I remember sitting on the plane thinking "Man, this is such a CSI episode topic".

The really funny part was that despite what she'd said before I visited, we ran into each of her parents at different times and ended up going to a play courtesy of her uncle, and all of them were like "So how do you know each other?" and "But you'd met before, right? RIGHT?!"

The level of panopticon is horrifying now. Teens have my sympathy. That part really is worse, and I think it's driving an entire generation nuts and we're going to see even more shit about people wanting to run away and live in a cabin in the woods with no internet. But in general, I don't think we're so different.