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being a student during peak pandemic was so fucking surreal like. "it's not an excuse to fall behind" I cannot stress enough to you how much A Worldwide Plague Upending Life As We Know It is literally one of The Top Three Reasons to fall behind
probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
Bakugou is willing to eat it in any position. You’ve learned this as time went on in your relationship, that no matter the place, time, or circumstance, he’d eat it anyway he could.
In some fancy bathroom at a hero gala, with you bent over the sink, your dress hiked up high on your thighs. Your face is this close to being smushed if not for the hand you have to throw up to keep from smearing your makeup. You pant against the glass, angling your body to watch how his blond tuft of hair moves rhythmically in the mirror when he licks you from clit to taint. You moan quietly when he leans back to spit on your hole, not realizing how disheveled he looks all the while. His hands are gripped tightly on the globes of your ass, spreading you, as he watches his spit dribble before he dives back in to lick it up.
On your kitchen counter, with your toes curled into the edge of the marble, your hands holding onto his hair for dear life. Bakugou holds you by the hip and tit as he works his mouth over your clit, sucking and licking at the swelling nub as he stares up at you from under thick blond lashes. He likes this angle where he can watch the pretty faces you make whenever his tongue lashes on your clit, and how your eyes always roll back when you realize he’s been looking at you the entire time.
On your side while you lay in bed on a hot day, forgoing any clothes due to the sticky heat. You’re tempting him, he tells you as he kneels on the floor beside the bed where your ass sticks up, right in his damn face—how could he resist? You’re not complaining though, as you hold one cheek open for him to lash his tongue against both holes, gasping in surprise when he groans against you, and dips his tongue inside of you as far as it can go. He pulls back with a smack of his lips and a bite at your pert little cheek, before he wiggles his tongue back inside of you once more.
Up against the wall after a night out, all sweaty and inebriated and drunk on the love you have for each other. He doesn’t even let you take your shoes off, just hikes your skirt up and places your thigh over his shoulder. He cranes his neck to slurp at your cunt, grunting when you pull his hair, licking at you with desperation to taste your cum flooding on his tongue as soon as he possibly can.
He loves it especially, when you sit on his face. With your thighs caging his head in as you ride his tongue and use him like the toy he is for you. Or when you turn around and really sit on his face, lightly playing with his neglected cock because the both of you know that right now, this is for him, and all he wants is for you to ride his face until he can’t breathe. He likes when you rub your scent all over his skin, rub your entire pussy from top to bottom, his nose bumping your clit all the while, his tongue out to catch whatever he can.
he’s just a feen for you and eating you every way he can basically.