Resource Post: Blue Lock Light Novel Translations

He's so babygirl

CG Update for the couch scene

reblog for a group of crows to choose you as their leader and follow you around every waking moment

Mom says it’s my turn to steal an old tire and roll into the lake and try not to become a forest spirit.

Reblog to give an ancient spirit lurking in your room a nice hot bowl of soup

i spent $32 on this fucking bowl at the moma and at first i felt bad buying it bc it was so expensive but ive had a terrible day today and every time i look at my lil bowl im like :o) you know what. i can get through anything with this bowl by my side

They're genius and we should all say gato/gatito/gatita/Michi from now on.

Shout out to Spanish for having the correct word for kitties. This is literally el gato there's no other word for it

read this.

prize counter girl ☆ nine

➥ michael afton x camgirl!reader

you've been a camgirl for only a few months and everyone loves the content you post. when michael afton porn surfs to relieve his stress, he comes across your videos. the more he jerks off to your content, the more he's addicted. but it wasn't until, a few months later, he sees your familiar face as the new employee working at the prize counter.

genre. NSFW, 18+, modern au.

chapter warnings. dom!reader, sub!michael, semi-public handjob, slight edging, so much sexual tension 🫣

notes. i hope yall enjoy this long awaited chapter 😏 i’m pretty sure this will make all the y/n simps worse LMFAO

pcg materlist • previous • chapter ten

Michael's cock has never throbbed so hard in his life.

He was close. So fucking close. Right at the peak, at the fucking brink of obtaining that orgasm he's been needing so bad it made his cock ache in pain. But after your sudden surprise, after realizing that very moment you were watching him the whole time in the dark... something suddenly switched in his brain.

That feeling of submission. An urge to just surrender himself to you. Succumbing to such a dangerous, yet alluring vivacity. Inclined to obeyyou, and only you; like holding him captive and chaining him up tight in the dark, making him quiver and gasp for every unobtainable breath of air. Ruin him, hurt him, mark him, corrupt him, just fucking use him for your entertainment and pleasure.

The next thing Michael knew, he could feel your breath against the side of his neck, sending a tingling sensation down his body it made his blood freeze. And that wicked, sultry gaze you gave him, like a predator eyeing their prey with burning desire... his inhibitions were already gone.

He was rendered docile to your tantalizing effect. His breathing grew heavier and the knots in stomach became contorted. At this very moment, he could no longer think for himself; he wanted to give you exactly what you asked for.

Michael inhaled sharply and clenched his aching cock tighter as you watched. Slowly, he stroked from the base and up to his tip that was drenched with his precum. "Right, I— I won't stop," he muttered under his shaky breath. "I won't."

A smirk of satisfaction stretches across your face as you watched him gradually fist his cock to a sufficing pace. The lewd sounds taking over the room, his whimpers and groans soaking into the air, and his heavy staccato breathing filling your ears; you were already getting off to this delectable moment. You had this urge to take your hand and gently caress him up from his face and down to his chest, feeling his heart pounding rapidly.

Michael turned his head towards you slightly, the tip of your noses faintly brushing against each other in the heat of the moment. His jaw was slackened and his brows were furrowed from the white-hot waves of sensation coursing in his body.

“Like— like this..?" he breathed out as he continues to jerk himself off, desperate and eager for your approval. "Is this good..?"

"Faster," you whispered into his ear, almost like a soft purr.

Lust speared through Michael at your salacious tone. Immediately he obeyed. With his grip tightened, he bucked his hips into his fist while increasing the pace to as you please, driving his breath to hitch and his groans to shamelessly grow louder.

"Good... You're doing so good," you praised, and Michael's body was sent into vibration.

Never has he been so turned on that he couldn't see straight. The supply closet was still dark with the rays of light creeping through the cracked door. He could feel it building, that taut electricity in his pelvis it made him clench his jaw. He wanted to come. He couldn't hold back anymore. He needed it so fuckingbadly.

"I'm— not gonna last. I'm gonna... I'm gonna—"

"You're gonna what?" you teased as your hand on his body roamed lower, down to his navel it made his hips studder.

"I'm gonna come," he whined out pathetically, nearly breathless. "Please, can I? I wanna—fuck— I'm so close, Y/N, please. Please make me come."

Michael's pleads were so adorable to you, it would be absolutely ruthless to deny his orgasm like that. There was just something so beautiful about a man pleading to you if he could cum; something so irresistible about a man begging and hearing the urgency with which he begs for permission to cum.

You could listen to that sound forever.

With your hand sliding down from his pelvis and onto his hard cock, he shivered as you wrapped your hands around it. So swollen, so wet, so sticky, so thick in your grasp. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing your hands it made you coo into his ears, trying to soothe him but also playfully torture him.

"Poor thing. So needy for me," you teased again, gently planting kisses on his neck and behind his ear. "Come for me, then. Make a mess all over yourself for me."

After hearing your words, pumping his cock faster, and squeezing him so tight in your hands, Michael felt like he was gonna fucking explode. He was shattered. There wasn't even enough time for him to register that he was actually living a dirty, forbidden fantasy of his; being given a handjob by you. Especially in such an unexpected time, in the last place where he would ever do this. But fuck, he couldn't resist.

Michael came so hard that spots flew behind his eyes.

His moans and whimpers trembled in his throat and sweat was trickling down his forehead; he was already a fucking mess. He had a tear-streaked face and glazed eyes, mouth hanging slack as his orgasm had crashed over him, pounding in his body like fireworks exploding. And god, there was so much cum milking out of him.

You lightly gasp in amusement watching him come so hard like that, furtively aroused and turned on by this. His drooling cum got all over your hands, dripping onto the floor. You stop fisting his cock but kept your hand wrapped around the base, still feeling it twitch and throb in your grip.

As Michael's rapid breathing slowed down, he tried to flutter his eyes open, still seeing spots in the corner of his eyes and his head feeling hazy. He was completely drunk by his own orgasm, which drove you to kiss him softly on the face for reassurance as he was catching his breath.

"Aw, you did so good for me, making a mess all over yourself like that," you praised again, smiling against his neck. "Let me clean this up for you."

It took awhile for it to register in Michael's brain since he lost his coherence for a few minutes. That was, until, he sees the way you slowly get down on your knees before him, never letting go of your grip on his cock, and opened your mouth.

Michael's breath hitched in surprise. He knew what you were trying to do, and god if that wasn't the hottest thing he's ever seen in his fucking life, but holy shit he wasn't prepared at all for this. You're trying to be gentle with him, but his hips jerked from the overstimulation.

"Wait, wait, wait— I'm still— I'm still sensitive, Y/N..."

"I know baby, I know..." you murmured fondly, your warm breath hitting against his dick that it made him shudder. "Just let me take care of you, okay?"

Michael hummed in response, instantly melting when you gazed up into his eyes, slowly gliding your tongue with his cum up from the base and onto his sensitive tip, kissing it ever so gently while sucking in his load. He's never been so dizzy with desire and his body has never felt so hot it felt like he had a fever. He knew that you were teasing him like this on purpose and he allowed it. Nothing mattered to him anymore at that very moment.

You watched the way Michael reacted as you were nearly finished cleaning up all his cum. The way his breath stutters, the way he groaned slightly, the way he throws his head back and sighs out of pleasure, and his cock erratically throbbing when you kept kissing his tip. Meanwhile, Michael had no idea if this situation was even real. He may have subtly pinched himself to see if he's dreaming, but this was no dream at all; you really jerked off your manager in a supply closet at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex.

Post-nut clarity sometimes left the poor man confused.

You finished cleaning him up, humming in satisfaction when you gently sucked his sensitive tip for the last time. Then, when you flickered your gaze back onto his, hypnotized by the heat in your eyes, the end of your lips curved to a wicked smirk.

"It was pleasure doing business with you... Mike Schmidt."

Michael watched in meek silence as you stood up on your feet and opened the door, letting more of the light enter the room and hit on his face. He blinked rapidly, squinting his eyes at how bright it was, like he was transcending back to reality. It felt like a wave of clarity hit him so abruptly and his coherence finally came back. And when your words thoroughly processed in his brain, panic suddenly thrashed in his chest.

Oh.

She knows.

She fucking knows.

She's been knowing this whole fucking time.

As if his body was high on adrenaline, Michael swiftly pulled his pants back up and rushed out the supply closet to find you. He panted heavily, running into the arcade and looking everywhere for you only to see you heading down the hallway where the exit doors lead to the parking lot.

"Y/N? Y/N, wait!" Michael yelled out loud as he ran down the hall.

You halted before you could push open the door and turned your head to see him standing right behind you, panting heavily. He noticed you smirking slightly, as if you enjoyed the chase, but also the trouble and scandal that he's about to be involved in.

"Look, I... I was going to eventually tell you, I swear," he attested. "I've never told anyone, not even my dad, and I don't plan on doing so. I just— I'm sorry for keeping this secret for so long. Especially as your manager, it all just feels wrong."

Giving him a chance to hear him out, you slowly turn your whole body around to face him as he ambled closer to you, staying silent.

"Look. Ever since you started working here and we started talking... I've been seeing you as just— you. Not as a camgirl, not as a sex worker. And I even started liking you, too— like, a lot. But there's just that... guilt of knowing what you really are and that's what has been holding me back."

Michael's gaze travels to the floor, feeling his chest tighten in culpability and uneasiness. "I didn't know how to come forward about it and I didn't know how to do it without any of us getting in trouble," he continued to confess. "But I'm just letting you know, I would never hold your side-gig against you. Never."

You inhaled deeply through your nose, hugging yourself from Michael's consolation. "We can just go on with our night and pretended this never happened," he continued. "But, really— I'm very sorry for hiding all of this from you."

It took a few moments, but you slowly ambled closer to him, arching your neck back to look into his eyes one last time. Michael noticed that same longing expression you had before, now subtly fading to a gentle, soft smile.

"Pretend this night never happened? Why would I wanna do that?" you say, slanting your head at him and giving him that look that you always give him; it made his skin crawl and his goosebumps to raise. Before he knew it, this whole consolation took a 360 degree turn that Michael never predicted.

"I appreciate you being honest with me, Michael," you beamed. "Sometimes I was in denial about it, but— the more we became closer, I started putting two and two together. It was painfully obvious now that I think about it, so I just kept teasing you and trying to get a rise out of you."

"Wait— so, you've known for awhile that I was Mike Schmidt...?"

"I did," you chuckled. "And you don't have to worry. I'm not really mad that you kept it from me. In fact, I respect you so much for not holding it against me. Which is why... I like you a lot, too, Michael."

An uncontrollable eruption detonates in his chest, like his lungs were squeezing in on him and his stomach becoming contorted from all the knots. He held his breath, his body flushed hotter, and his heart stammered. "You— you do?"

"Yes. I do," you breathed out, inching closer to his face with your lips almost touching his. "But there's also one thing I wanna know from you, though."

"Anything."

"How many times have you fucked yourself to me?"

Michael was caught off guard once again. Even though you're comfortable with each other, he couldn't help but feel bashful about the question. "Uh— you know. Only, like, a few times..."

You smirk at his blatant lie. "Aw, Michael. You and I both know that's not true."

Suddenly, something switched in him again. As if his underlying urge to take control over you this time was finally resurfacing. Knowing that you were riling him up on purpose for your pleasure, torturing him for so long that it's what lead to this very moment, jerking off earlier in a fucking closet; he wanted to get you back so bad.

"So what if I tell you, hm?" he teased, "All those times I got off to you playing with yourself for me... All the times I watched you orgasm multiple times on your streams..."

You find yourself biting your lip while walking backwards, your back hitting against the wall with Michael towering over you this time. And there goes that flame of burning desire scorching in your core. A tingling sensation blossoming at the base of your spine.

"You have no fucking idea... how long I've been fantasizing about fucking you every day and night until you can't think straight, Y/N."

Michael's hand slithers up from your neck and to your face, finally getting to caress you this time. Your hands are now all over him too, as if you fell right under his spell in lust. A rush of helplessness stirred in your stomach; there was something about the heated look in his eyes under this dully illuminated hallway that sinks in you deeply. His insistent mouth was parting your quivering lips, sending wild tremors within your nerves.

"Isn't that what you wanna hear from your top supporter?" he mutters into your ear. "Paying you just so I can fuck myself to you? So I can watch you please your audience, showing off that pretty fucking pussy into the camera..."

Your breathing was growing rapid this time when Michael's hands traveled to your waist, softly caressing your skin. If he were to have his hands near your inner thighs, he would immediately feel the heat, the arousal surging inside you. Oh, you were throbbing. You knew you were soaking as well. But holy shit, this side of Michael being in control and making you fall submissive this time has never turned you on so much...

"I've fucked myself to you for two months because I want you, Y/N," Michael professed, inching his head lower that his lips were just barely brushing yours. "I wanna take you out on dates, I wanna experience new things with you, I wanna play more arcade games with you, I just wanna be—"

Without thinking twice, you shut your eyes and clash your lips onto his, holding onto his jaw to pull him closer and keep him in place. He closes his eyes and kisses back slowly, pulling you by the hips and taking in each other's scent it drove you both dizzy. This time, it felt much more passionate compared to your first kiss in your car; it wasn't as sloppy or rough. You just kept clinging onto each other until the lack of air was making your lungs scream for oxygen. But nothing made you wanna separate from this heated moment.

"—yours," Michael suddenly continued as you both slowly pulled away from the kiss, staring at each other in farcical silence that you busted out laughing together.

You look into his softened eyes and smiled. "You already are."

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO © 2023 . do not steal, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works outside tumblr.

-things to send to my parents once I move out

The first rule of the abusive parents is that they never believe they're doing anything wrong.

The second rule is, that you were just too sensitive to take it and also maybe you imagined it and it didn't happen at all.

The third rule is that it 'wasn't that bad', and even if it was, you deserved it.

The fourth rule is that they were great parents and you need to be grateful for the roof over your head and for being fed.

The last rule is that you need to keep quiet about it.

_________

Deconstruction:

If a child comes to you after gathering courage to confront you about something you did to them and how much it hurt them, that's how you know you did something wrong. They already know they hurt you, so by the time you come to confront them, they've already decided to either play dumb and pretend they 'didn't know and still can't comprehend it and will never be able to learn', which is, they expect you to believe they're stupider than a 5yo. Yes they know they did wrong, that's why they're acting with such determination and covering their tracks and super intent on hiding and covering it up.

All children are sensitive to abuse. Adults should not risk doing anything to a child that might end up in a child getting traumatized. They not only took that risk but repeatedly did things to their children that would traumatize adults and now have the gall to pretend the children 'should have taken it better'. They themselves would go insane if they were treated like that. No you were not too sensitive, they're downplaying the abuse to look less guilty of it. Also telling you that you 'imagined it', or it 'didn't happen', is gaslighting, and they would not be doing that if they did nothing wrong.

Yeah it wasn't 'that bad' for them. To them abusing you was just a little hobby they indulged in for fun and recreation. If you come and tell them it was bad - that's how they know it was bad for you, but they already knew that, didn't they? They took pleasure in hurting you, they knew you were in pain. You feel hatred while you're being abused, and they know they directed that hatred at you. You did not deserve it. No child deserves that. No matter what.

You do not have to be grateful for the roof over your head or food or clothes. The alternative would be to kick you out on the street (illegal), starve you on purpose (illegal) or keep you without clothing (illegal). They're telling you that you have to be grateful that they didn't commit crimes against you and for not killing you on purpose. They're pretending that we live in a world where it's a normal thing to kill off a child for fun so you have to be grateful that didn't happen to you, they're warning you they could have done that. What they're saying is a threat. We could have hurt you worse, be grateful we didn't kill you completely. That is not parenting. That is blackmail and terror.

You don't owe them silence. You have full rights to talk about your experiences. If they 'did nothing wrong', then surely they will not mind if everyone else finds out about it. You do not have to take on the shame and the guilt for what these people did to you when you were defenseless and clueless, your brain and body not even formed enough to fight back. They were adults. They were supposed to take care of you and keep you safe. If they didn't, if they hurt you instead, the shame and the guilt for torturing a child should haunt them forever.

I love this and I'm reposting solely to bookmark it (don't mind me)

I like to think that one of the lessons Aizawa taught class A is "always have a knife".

You never know when you'll need a knife so never not be in possession of a knife. As such every member of class A has a knife hidden somewhere in their hero costumes. His gift to them when they graduated were custom engraved knives with their student number on them.

Not on board? Ok. Just imagine how funny it would be tho.

Villain: "Number one hero Deku! I am punch proof! The more you hit me the stronger I get! How will you defeat me now-"

Midoriya: "Knife."

Villain: "Wha-" *gets stabbed*

Midoriya: "Knife."

Hero: "Oh no! We're tied up! However will we escape!"

Tsuyu: "Knife."

Hero: "What?"

Tsuyu, pulling a knife off the bottom of her foot with her tongue: "Knife."

Groupie getting a hug: "Are you using your quirk or are you just happy to see me?"

Kirishima: "It's a knife."

Groupie: "...What?"

Kirishima: "Knife."

Villain, completely insulated in rubber: "You're a one trick pony chargebolt."

Kaminari, reaching down into his boot: "Oh boy are you wrong my dude!"

Hero: "You need to calm down."

Bakugou, reaching down into his V-neck: "Listen here you son of a BITCH-"

Hero: "WHY DO YOU HAVE A KNIFE!?"

Kouda: "Stop scaring the pigeons! They're a domesticated species that we abandoned back into the wild. They're sweet creatures who are pets by nature!"

Douchebag: "Or what?"

Kouda: "..."

Douchebag: "..."

Kouda: "..."

Douchebag: "oh my GOD HE HAS A KNIFE-"

(Don't mind me, I just wanna set them as my laptop wallpaper)

⭒ ghibli scenes ⭒