Do You Think People Who Are Virgin Should Write Smut? I Feel Like Most Of Them Don’t Even Know What

Senkuu: Okay, here’s the plan. First, we set off the fire alarms-

Taiju: Senkuu, we can’t set off an alarm if there’s no fire, we’ll get in trouble!

Senkuu: Okay, fine. First, we’ll start a fire-

Experiment 🧪🃏 [2/7] Previous / Next

The experiment begins, but Senku is not happy with the results. Poor Gen is just confused about what is going on.

Next page tomorrow~

``|| ☆ starchaser & black brothers microfic: dramatic & amount || @into-the-jeggyverse @black-brothers-microfic || wc: 487

“James,” Regulus greets him when he crosses the threshold of their home.

There is no “I'm home” or “James, are you here?”, no. Regulus' tone does not promise anything good — it is tense and demanding.

Turning his whole body to his lover, James tries to imitate the happiest smile possible. “Yes, love?”

Regulus appears around the corner of the room, looking for him. When he finds him, his arms immediately cross over his chest, his gaze nailing James to the spot. “That's a serious question.”

“Of course you can ask,” James' soul is already on its way to his heels.

“Me or Sirius…” he pauses, and by now James' soul has already descended to the level of his knees, ”Who's more dramatic?”

James' breath seems to get stuck somewhere in halfway through. If this question was about anyone, he would have answered that no, Regulus is not dramatic at all. No, he is the best of all, and no one else can compare to him.

However… if he answered Sirius now, it would make Regulus happy. Sure enough, that tense look would disappear from his face, and his eyebrows would relax. A satisfied smile will return to his lover's face, and maybe even Regulus will come closer and lean in to give him a gentle kiss as a real greeting.

And then Regulus will call or text or even go and tell Sirius in person. Like, “Look, even James thinks I'm better, ha! And we can trust James' judgment.” And this will turn into a little nightmare for James for the next few hours, because Sirius won't let it go.

No, the weather forecast warns of record rainfall in the form of “you've been like a brother to me, I never expected such a betrayal!”, we recommend that all Jamestown residents stock up on Dominos coupons, because only the promise of a bachelor party and ten Diablo pizzas can avert a natural disaster.

James can't help but cringe at the thought of such a scenario. But then again…

He imagines how he would feel if he were to say Regulus' name. He won't hear an answer right away. In fact, he won't hear a word from Regulus for the next week. He won't see him for days, he can only feel the warmth of his body next to him at night, but trying to hug him casually in his sleep will risk losing his arm. And no coupons to Dominos or any other establishment, no movie tickets or anything else would save him from the crisis.

The fact was simple: the amount of drama in the Black family's blood does not differ that much. But each of them finds a different way to process this drama.

A wise man once said that of two evils, choose the lesser one.

So James huffs as if the question is stupid in itself, rolls his eyes and says, “Of course Sirius…”

Of course I'm gonna hit Sengen with the yuri beam

i have adhd, ocd + am currently obsessing over lots of ships from different fandoms instead of studying for my exams like im supposed to :P

open tags

it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore

fucking insane to me that people can be mean to kids. this thing is four to five shoe boxes tall and youre shouting at it ?? ? what is your damage the mf just got here.

nail - march 3 - black brothers - trans!Regulus - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 267

“Guess what Mother told me today,” Regulus said flatly, walking into Sirius’s room without permission and slamming the door behind himself.

“Hey, did you know there’s a new invention? S’called knocking. Try it,” Sirius mumbled, not looking over from where he was gazing into the mirror, carefully applying black eyeliner to his waterline.

“Hey, did you know there’s a new invention? It’s called not being a prat. Try it,” Regulus retorted, throwing himself onto Sirius’s bed. “Now, do you want to hear, or not?”

Sirius placed his eyeliner down and turned. “Fine. Go on.”

“She told me I need to start dressing like a girl, because that’s what society expects. That I should get over my little phase. That I should be more like you, because you dress like a boy, just like you’re supposed to,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes and grimacing as he repeated the words.

But Sirius was too busy narrowing his eyes and looking down at himself. As he did so, Regulus grinned, because he knew Sirius was thinking exactly what he was.

“She thinks I meet societal expectations?” he asked bemusedly, waving a hand over his outfit.

“Yes,” Regulus nodded gleefully. "More than me, anyway."

“Me. The son who paints his nails bright blue, wears more eyeliner than the average girl, rocks skinny jeans, and has hair below his shoulders?” Sirius demanded, looking dumbfounded. “While you, who wears normal pants and button downs and shit, are an embarrassment?”

“Yes,” Regulus agreed, smirking. 

“Fuck. I’ve obviously failed. Should I start wearing glitter?” Sirius asked, turning back to his reflection.

“Wouldn’t hurt…” Regulus chuckled.

Convince me that sleeping late at night is bad with all your cards 🙅 I'll resist with everything I have (I really believe I should sleep earlier but I don't have a really good reason to, like something that puts me fear)

-🦐 (shrimp is out of questions atm, I need to go back to school to have some ideas to disturb your peace)

You want fear? Alright.

Chronic sleep deprivation—especially from staying up late while forcing your circadian rhythm out of sync—disrupts the glymphatic system, the brain’s literal cleaning network.

That system? It clears out metabolic waste like Beta-amyloid plaques aka the stuff linked to Alzheimer’s.

So every time you skip sleep or delay it past when your internal clock expects rest, you’re lowering your brain’s ability to scrub out neurological trash. Over time, that gunk builds up and slows cognition, memory, and executive function.

You know that foggy, irritable, “what was I doing again?” feeling after a late night? That’s your prefrontal cortex lagging behind because its fuel reserves are torched and its synaptic pruning is off schedule.

Your immune system gets sluggish. Your hormones misfire. You’re more likely to develop insulin resistance. Your risk of heart disease spikes.

And worst of all?

Your brain adapts.

You stop noticing how impaired you are. You think you’re functioning normally, but the lights are flickering upstairs and nobody’s doing maintenance.

The body can handle the occasional late night. But make it a habit? You’re not rebelling. You’re slowly corrupting your own code.

You asked for fear. There it is.

Ew just took my phone off dark mode, why does it look so shit wtaf?

And nothing bad ever happened.