#tw: possible drugging

[snail-day]

Oh, there's such a lack of yandere nerd!gojo content out in the world. He'd be such a freaking loser dragging his poor lab partner back to his stupidly large apartment that his parents bought him (trust fund kids, am I right?) The poor son of a bitch pushes up his glasses for what has to be the fifth time in the last minute, his fingers shaking just enough to smudge the lenses. He would normally take the time to clean them. After all, this is a very special moment. However, his focus is locked entirely on you, pupils blown wide with exhilaration, his face burning hot.

He’s finally alone with you.

A free hand hovers over yours, the way a scientist might hesitate before handling a delicate, precious agar sample. But you’re not just any experiment. You’re his.

"Oh - oh, wow, you’re shaking," Gojo breathes out, voice nearly cracking from how much he’s holding back. A large, pathetic grin wobbles, too eager and lovesick. "That��s… ahhh, you probably think that’s bad, huh? But - !" Letting out a breathless, giddy laugh, barely able to contain himself. "But it’s not! It’s just your fight-or-flight response kicking in! Isn’t that amazing? It’s just pure biology - adrenaline, cortisol, your nervous system firing on all cylinders - " cutting himself off with another shaky inhale, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, he’s really trying to collect himself (and failing, he's pretty sure he came in his pants).

"You don’t actually have to be afraid, though," he continues, voice softer now, "Because I’d never, ever hurt you! Never! I mean, scientifically speaking, fear is just your body misinterpreting stimuli, and that’s kind of tragic, don’t you think?" Bright blue manic eyes flicker over you, adoringly, like you’re a rare phenomenon he’s lucky enough to witness firsthand. "Because I love you. God, I love you so much. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?"

His fingers twitch, and then finally, he touches you. Just barely. A featherlight brush of his fingertips against the back of your hand, and he shudders like you’ve just sent a shock straight through him.

"Warm," he mutters, almost to himself. "Oh wow, you’re so warm." That pretty face of his is practically glowing red now, and he laughs, high, nervous, like he can’t believe this is actually happening. "I always - I always thought about this, you know? Back in class? How your skin might feel? I - I tried to calculate it once, based on average human body temperature and external environmental factors, but- but actually feeling it is so much better!"

His voice cracks at the end, and he slaps a hand over his mouth, muffling a half-sob, half-laugh. His glasses slide down again. He shoves them up with a clumsy knuckle, barely able to hold himself together.

The room is a mess of his obsessions, shelves packed with manga, figurines lined up like tiny sentinels, textbooks, and loose papers stacked in towers on his desk Complex chemical equations scrawled across a whiteboard, some of them crossing into territory you can’t even begin to understand.

One of them looks… medical. With dosages sprawled out within the Navier-Stokes equation.

Gojo’s long, pale fingers he laces over yours, and oh how his entire body shudders again, like he’s barely restraining himself from pulling you into his arms. "You - you have no idea how much I adore you," voice trembling. "I mean, did you know your hair shines under fluorescent lighting? I wrote a whole equation trying to determine the way light refracts off the strands. And the way you chew on your pen cap when you’re thinking? I- I started doing it too, just to feel closer to you - though studies show - it's like really bad for your teeth so - we should - should stop that bad habit - ah "

His other hand moves suddenly, reaching for something on the desk. A glint of silver. Your breath stutters between soft sobs.

When did he get a syringe? Wasn't he just professing his undying love for you?

Gojo blinks, as if he just remembered he was holding it. Then he lets out another one of those nervous, giddy laughs, clutching the syringe close to his chest like it’s something precious. "Oh - this? Ahaha, you - ah, you weren’t supposed to see that yet! I was gonna - " He bites his lip, gaze flickering between the syringe and you like he’s debating something. "I mean, it’s nothing bad! Just a little - just a little help! A tiny, tiny chemical nudge to help you relax! I measured everything perfectly, I promise! You can trust me! "

And oh are you starting to cry even more which causes him to freak out just a little more... "L-Let’s start over," small stammers as his manic smile widening. "I-I’ll explain it all again! In even more detail! Ohhh, you’re gonna love this!"

[bisexualmegmasters]

locked tomb characters and weed

this is my stupidest post. i'm so excited. do not speak to me of canon this is a joke.

ianthe: hits penjamin. and she will not stop and she will do it at the club and in your face and at church if you make her go. sometimes, sometimes, she will have the decorum to do it in the bathroom. but not usually. and if you ask her to stop, she's breathing it directly at you. she's taking a lot of small hits instead of like anything substantial. also her cart is always clogged? inexplicably?

coronabeth: asks to hit ianthe's pen constantly. does not buy her own weed. why would she? she's too hot. if a woman offers her a hit, she says yes, but she would never step foot in a dispensary.

naberius: his vape is nicotine. but yeah he's bought a weed pen before and hasn't hated it.

palamedes: takes gummies to relax sometimes. weirdly likes the smell but doesn't actually smoke. has a lot of opinions on strains, though. his favorite gummy flavor is blueberry btw.

camilla: is the one buying palamedes gummies. prefers a joint, knows how to roll. author's note: most of them don't know how to roll. camilla is the specialist girl in the world, though.

gideon: pretends to know how to roll. does not know how to roll. usually uses a bong and will bring a small one to the function if asked. here's the thing: she's really bad with lighters and will need a girl to help her, preferably very very close to her face. also she coughs like a bitch every time.

isaac: is smoking, let's be fucking clear, but like the shittiest dispos at his local smoke shop, since they don't card. gideon is the first person who lets him take a hit of flower and he has the best time of his entire life.

jeannemary: secretly scared of it? a little? but also when gideon (with the biceps) is letting isaac hit the bong, she absolutely has to participate as well. does okay <3

abigail: can fully make her own oils and butters and shit and it's insane!!! will join a circle but prefers edibles. here's the thing though: can't bake for shit, unfortunately.

magnus: is kind of confused by dosage but actually can bake for shit so abigail will make the infused oil/butter and he will make a beautiful tray of cookies or brownies or a lemon ricotta cake with a light dusting of powdered sugar.

dulcinea (REAL): a small, pink pipe. does not cough.

ortus: yeah, actually, he does smoke. but only indica before bedtime.

harrow: so fucking terrified of it but it would probably fix her. is also using her mind to clog ianthe's cart.

alecto: i don't know but she's in my dream blunt rotation for sure

[skyblueartt]

William Afton tries weed for the first time

[spivecream]

obsessed with the idea that the coaches to recreational lines of coke

[jdexhusband]

The girls are fighting!!! (Ray plays keyboard in the band btw)

[hannahssimblr]

“Can I get that for you?”

The voice startles me. It’s not directed at me until she taps my elbow, sharp and insistent.

“I can get that for you,” she repeats, already sliding a black card into the machine. The woman from earlier, with the cake. Tiny, pink-haired, pupils like saucers.

“It’s alright,” I start, but she’s moving, her drink ordered.

“You’re Jude, right?” she says. “From Berlin?”

“Yeah, I just live there. Not really from there.”

“I didn’t think you were German,” she grins, like she’s caught me out. “Nice of you to show up for Evie’s birthday.”

“Didn’t exactly show up for that,” I say, but she’s already walking, drink in hand, heading toward a table. She looks over her shoulder, a silent invitation.

I follow. “Good to know I’ve been a topic of conversation.”

She smiles. “Would have assumed you’d be used to that, to be honest.”

Don’t know what she means by it, but sit and she watches me, eyes on a tour of me, my shoulders, chest, not seeing her doing it so much as feeling it, a gaze on the side of my face while I take a drink. “You know Evie well?”

“Hm?”

“She said you’re a friend of a friend or something. I was just wondering about the connection.”

I hesitate. “Ah, well, you know. We–my family has a holiday home down in Wexford. She was down there one summer and my friends would hang out with her friends from time to time.”

“Not best friends then, I take it.”

“We wouldn’t be, no.”

“My parents have a holiday home in Kinsale,” she says, rolling her eyes as she says: “I used to absolutely hate going there. It was like, deadly boring, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“Dublin’s so fucking boring too, though. I get so sick of it, all the tourists and all, coming over here. I hope you don’t mind me saying that, since you’re obviously American or something.”

“It’s grand. My dad is American. And he’s not a tourist, given by the fact he actually lives here.”

She laughs way too loudly, considering the lukewarm humour, and rests her cheek on her hand, gazing up through her lashes. “It must be literally so satisfying to be out of this shithole city, is it? Out there in Berlin.” Rolls her eyes a bit and smiles. “The pure authenticity if it. The perfect collusion of history and hedonism… do you know what I mean? Being there was completely a healing experience for me.”

“Was it.”

“It’s raw. It doesn’t beg you to love it. Not like London, suffocating under its own self-importance. Berlin is real.”

“Hm,” I swirl my pint, the creamy head wreathing the inner glass like sea foam susurrating on the shore. “I can see why you’d say that.” Taking a sip, not sure if she’s talking about Berlin or just herself.

“Yeah, totally. I feel so at home with the artists and the thinkers, right? All the gorgeous degenerates just living to make art, not living on anyone else’s terms. I think it’s beautiful.”

“Right, yes, well. I’m really just there for an art degree. It’s not that serious for me.”

Her smile strains. “Well, I was there last summer with a couple of mates,” she’s careful with the way she says that, mates, slotting the word into her vocabulary to sound less, what? Posh. Yes. An upper-class undercurrent runs through her speech—peaks showing when her concentration lapses. “I felt like I could totally lose myself there if I wanted to. Like, we wandered from this underground rave straight into this old Turkish bakery, at like nine in the morning, completely fucked off our faces, and got chatting to the people who owned it, like, a couple who’d been there selling bread since before the wall went down. I mean, how truly real can you get?”

“Mm.” Through the masses, I peer back to the booth where Claire and Shane hang out, wishing I could astral project myself across a room. 

���Yeah, it was a mad experience, really. The party never stops. We were actually queuing for like hours to get into this club. It’s like, you have to wear black and you’re not allowed to smile, otherwise they won’t let you in. Like, no matter what time of day it is, people are always queuing, it’s just, like, that Berlin party lifestyle: It never stops. You know Berghain?”

“Yeah,” I drawl. “I know Berghain because I live in Berlin.”

She wavers, then quickly brightens again as she tells me about her queuing experience, a long story about the patrons of the club that ends with her getting turned away at the door. “Been there,” I could say, but don’t, at the risk of making her feel we are comrades of some sort. She’s on cocaine, no doubt. Talking in that unstoppable way, like Dalia and I at the afters of some party going off about the supreme court and the development of Grand Theft Auto V, voices overlapping like some demented musical counterpoint. Ending, then, miserable, with my head in her lap in full morning light, asking if she thinks my girlfriend really loves me. 

She’s onto something about her boyfriend now, I think, this little mad one. Big posh name on him. Lorcan, or something, was it? 

“...Honestly, people misunderstand it. They’re scared of real vulnerability, I think. Monogamy is a totally outdated concept…”

“Cool. What if I actually don’t want my girlfriend kind of, you know, fucking other men and things like that?” 

“Polyamory’s about a higher level of connection,” she says, eyes wild, vaguely shark-like, actually. “It’s unlearning all that shit we’re taught about ownership and possession. Is your girlfriend your property? If you can shed that jealousy, you’re free.”

I shift in my seat. “Alright, yeah, that’s cool. I’m just not down for it.”

“You should meet Ferdia after the party. He’s obsessed with Shibari—rope bondage. He could show you, if you’re into that kind of thing.” She drapes her arm over the chair, her knee brushing mine. “He’s all about freedom. Not restriction, you know? People leave his place changed. It’s... profound.”

I let the silence stagnate for a moment. “Mm. Yeah. Not my thing, really,” and pull my chair away to carve out more distance, but she follows, hand sliding across my thigh, lips now, coming close to my ear where her breath tickles. “Did you ever want to be tied up?” 

My skin crawls, a tingling sensation down the backs of my hands as I stand, picking her hand off me like dead trout. I watch her face collapse with a feeling of cruel satisfaction. Looking down at her then, like, who are you? What the fuck was that about? “What do you expect me to say to that?”

She falters, and I walk away, three quarters of my pint sloshing about on the shuddering table, then think about her as I walk to the bathroom. The kind of girl who epitomises NCAD—micro-fringes and all. Unsettling energy about her. Floating around Evie, no doubt, some girl that thinks she’s smart, hovering around someone who really is. 

Blue light in the bathroom, like walking into a fish tank. Typical men’s bathroom, wet floor, dense smell of piss. There’s another guy there, crouched by the sinks. Hair bleached a brassy yellow, sticking up in clumps. His hands tremble with a baggie. I use the toilet, wash my hands, stare at my face in the mirror, stoic, eyes dark and tired from work, cheeks hollower than they used to be, but this guy is in some animalistic state, his reflection alongside mine, on opposite sides of some invisible divide.

Pupils blown out, glazed, brittle and frantic, he tries to do a line from the wall mirror. White powder slips and bursts onto the damp countertop. He laughs to himself, swaying. Which way is he? Feet on the walls, the mirror is the table and the room warps around him like a funhouse. “Shit, man, shit,” he mutters. Heavy accent. Proper Northside. 

I shake the water from my hands, droplets on the mirror. “Y’alright, man?”

“Uhh,” he manages, scraping a pool of dissolved cocaine onto his finger. He rubs it right into his gums as I recoil inwardly. He straightens, then, hands finding the baggie by the sink, empty, and I grimace as he tears it open and licks the residue from the inside. 

I can’t help but scrunch my face. There’s no paper towels left in the dispenser. I get toilet paper from a stall, which quickly disintegrates in my hands. “Maybe you should lie down or something. You got that taxi app?” 

“I got this stuff,” he slurs, finding another baggie in one of his pockets. “It’s good, yeah? If you need anything. A little help with the night.” He lurches and catches himself on the rim of the sink. 

“What’s it going for these days?”

“Seventy bag, man.”

“Rip off.”

“It’s the good stuff.”

“I doubt it.”

He shrugs, fingers going back to the mirror, touching his own reflection, hands coming together like some twisted vision of the Sistine Chapel fresco, a finger reaching not toward God, but toward cocaine residue in a dirty bar bathroom. 

He twists, then. Abrupt, kind of inhuman gesture, like a video game zombie, and moves towards the door. “Don’t mind me,” he says, brushing past. “I’m just living my best life, yeah?”

“Yeah, cool man.”

The door swings behind him, and I stand for a moment, the wet toilet tissue balled in my hands. I glance back at my face. I’ve been the corpse-like face in the mirror, too. Looking at yourself, reflection like a stranger. I couldn’t face it sometimes. My eyes are tired now, but at least I look alive.

I toss the tissue into the bin and step back into the bar, the thrum of music pulling me in like it never stopped.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

[purpurussy]

i need dan to come to the gay bar in my hometown so me n my girls (gn) can teach him how to smoke weed and talk to him about gender

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

"Shangri-La is under attack."

The Librarians S03E09 And the Fatal Seperation.

Bonus wet splat:

[arctic-hands]

Tw wegovy talk

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.

.

.

The fuck do you mean Maryland doesn't cover wegovy and ozempic and makes you do bariatric surgery instead. Does this include diabetes? The fuck?

[the-420-siren]

I may have had some rum tonight. Because I really want to strip.....rum always does that

I also may have but you won't know...

[pohlepen]

frankie spends the entire 4/20 day hotboxing her shitty little apartment and everyone is welcome to come smoke & eat the cheap corner market pizza she bought 💚🌿

[foxedthecards]

@gunslinginnhogtyin @dragonskxn

Jonas is just watching this weed brownie fiasco in the making like

[rose-riot-johnson]

Okay my Tumblr Peeps... I decided to write a fanfic about non other than Bleach's very own Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez🐆😁👍It may not be my 1st time writing about him, to be honest, however it's definitely my 1st time writing about him by himself🐆😃👍Any1 who is a fan of Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, I definitely have a treat for you🐆😁👍I just have so many ideas I have planned for this fanfic about Grimmjow😃👍 Also, apologies ahead of time if Grimmjow's pov, ends up having more paragraphs than the reader' pov (which I labeled your pov), considering this is the first fanfic I will have reader's pov and the character's pov😅

*This fanfic contains 1 or more long paragraphs😅

🩵🐆What Happened To You, During The Nightclub Incident🐆🩵(Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x Female Reader)

Genres: Angst (Possible Dark Angst) (Warning⚠️: Language, Trigger Warnings Include; Alcohol Consumption, Drugging, Violence, Blood, and Anything Unspeakable Depending On the Reader's Imagination)

The introduction:

You were invited by your friends to go with them to a night club they frequently go to. You accepted their invite, because you really have never been to a night club or any bars before, you were more comfortable going to places with your friends for some reason, and you weren't sure if you would have that opportunity again. You felt like you have known your friends for years, that they're the best friends you had ever had and you figured they're the ones you have your back. You truly trust no one else as much as you trusted your friends, so you believe in your heart that you could never have better friends than the friends you have...

Your pov:

You were already dressed, dolled up, and ready by the time your friends picked you up from the nightclub, your friends took you. You were extremely excited to to be there for the first time ever. You then noticed a man with blue hair and blue eyes, who was smiling at you (while drinking a glass of vodka), however his expression seems to switch after he saw your friends. Your friends told you that he's like this with most people and is a trouble maker, then told you to watch out for him, because they think he's a creep with anyone he likes, not to trust him, and called him a "sexual predator". To you he didn't seem like it, however how can you not trust your friends you figured.

A group of men, then went up to you, as your friends introduced you to the men who are near you. These men also said some things about him, as if they're warning you about him, then one of these men seemingly assured you, "Pay no attention to him! He may start trouble, but we know how to deal with trouble makers like him! Just let us know, if he starts anything with you!", before he seemingly warned you, "If I were you, I'd keep my distance from him!", After they went elsewhere inside the nightclub, one of your friends said, "See? Even these gorgeous guys said this blue hair guy is trouble... But don't worry, (Female Reader Name)..., Then the friend who was talking was encouraging you to dance with one if the other me on the dance floor.

You were having so much fun dancing on the dance floor that you forgot your drink. After you got done dancing with the guy, you went back to where your friends were, as they cheered you on, before drinking your drink. "It's strange... I only took a couple sips of the drink and I'm feeling kinda funny right now...". Your friends then laughed as one of them said, "Maybe because your alcohol tolerance is low and we need to get it up higher...", before the second friend said, "Or possibly you're having such a good time, where you forgot you couldn't handle your booze", as all of your friends laughed before you feel into one of the men's arms passing out and drugged...

Grimmjow's pov:

Grimmjow is an (sixth or shall we say sexta) Espada, type of Arrancar, which is a type of hollow. He would occasionally go to the night club, to have a couple drinks, while trying to keep to himself (despite of his temper), then leave, however the night you went in that nightclub with your friends, he watched you. He sees your friends often when he's there (and he couldn't stand them), however to him there's something about you that is different about you.

While Grimmjow watches you he saw a group of men hanging around your friends, telling you negative stuff about him, as one of these men say, "Pay no attention to him! He may start trouble, but we know how to deal with trouble makers like him! Just let us know, if he starts anything with you! If I were you, I'd keep my distance from him!", as if he was warning you. After they went elsewhere inside the nightclub, they talked to you, as if they seemed like to have your back, then acted like they're encouraging you, as they had you dance with one of the other men on the dance floor. Once you went on the dance floor with one of the other men, it the man who was talking, the rest of the men, and your friends were putting stuff in your drink that appears to be, roofies (short for the actual name, rohypnol), ecstasy, and cocaine, all mixed together right with the alcohol you were drinking and Grimmjow madesure he recorded the whole thing.

The reason why Grimmjow can't stand your friends nor those men you just met, because he has been overhearing some stuff they mean stuff about you and even said about you as they complained, "I wished we could just get rid of her, because why I don't know why in the fuck we're friends with that loser in the first place, besides feeling sorry for her!", then the men would come over look for a "hot chick" to do unspeakable things to and your friends mentioned about bringing you over to the nightclub for them to try laying their hands on you. So, when the night that you came with your friends arrived he knew he had to find a way to get proof, so ofcourse he's going to record your friends true colors with his touchscreen cellphone.

As much as it makes Grimmjow cringe only rewatch and record the whole thing, especially with your friends calling you a "bitch" and a "virgin hoe", then laughing at you from feeling the drugged effect of drinking the beverage your friends and the rest of the group of men put drugs in, before you ending up passed out drugged up into the talkative man's arms, Grimmjow knows he rather not cause trouble until he's done recording, while he sensing your friends take advantage of you by their backstabbing tactics for how naive and gullible you really are with them, and will need some form of solid proof to show you who "your friends" truly are. After he gets done recording, the group of men were about to take you to the ally way, however before they were able to carry you outside to take you to the ally way, Grimmjow went up to the men and began to punch one of the men in the face and knocked him out cold. The rest of the men tried attack him and quickly bring you outside, he pound some of their heads to a bloody pulp, twist a couple of the men's arms, a few he gave them a bloody nose, and he even kicked the talkative man in the balls. When one of your friends tried to complain and the rest of your friends were about to take you outside to dispose of you, by throwing you in the dumpster, Grimmjow scolded, "Don't you dare fucken, do what I fucken think you're about to do as your back up plan! I knew you were terrible friends to your friend who is (Female Reader Name)! However I just didn't fucken know you ladies and those men were in on drugging the kind looking lady! You ladies and those men seem like you're all out to get her! You are basically working with those men who have a history of drugging other women! For all of your actions you ladies have committed, none of you deserve a friend like her! Infact she deserves better than two faced backstabbing jerks like all of you ladies! Every single one of you disgust me! We're leaving and never coming back here!". Grimmjow then carried you in his arm, leaving the nightclub and finding a place to take care to look after you.

The aftermath of the nightclub incident:

As you were waking up, you saw that you weren't in the nightclub with your "friends". You saw you were in an abandoned motel room that doesn't look abandoned, then you saw the blue haired man your friends and the group of men were talking bad about, as if they seemed to warn you. You were frightened and was thinking about trying to run away out of fear, however the blue haired man calmly said, "Relax... You're safe now... From all of the times I heard your so called friends mentioned about you and your name, you must be (Female Reader Name), if I'm not mistaken...", before introducing himself, "My name's Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez... Call me Grimmjow...". You then in a frightened state cried, "Why are you talking about about my friends? And you are the bad man who my friends and those men warmed me about... What have you done to me? What have you done to my friends?". Grimmjow gave you an annoyed and not surprised look as he replied, "What I done to you and what have I done to your friends?! I knew you would believe everything they say! It's more like what those men and your "friends" did to you and their motives! I saved your life! Those friends of your are not your friends and are backstabbers who only took you as a friend out of pity! They even called you a loser and I don't see why they think of you as such! Those men and those who you call your friends are fucken cowards and your friends were even about to throw you in the dumpster after I defended you against those men who were about to do unspeakable things to you!", before handing you his cellphone, as he continued, "And if you don't fucken believe me, you have my permission to see the video of last night! Watch the evidence of your fake friends true colors, while I cook some food for you!".

You watched the whole video, Grimmjow recorded. As you were watching the video, you were horrified at everything he was recording. What your "friends" and those men doing with your drink, everything your "friends" said about you, them laughing at you while you were drinking and you passing out drugged after you were drinking. You ended up shaking wondering if you really are everything your friends said about you or if you could really trust anyone, before you bursted to tears. Once Grimmjow finished cooking, he then went to check on you, as he then said, "I'm truly sorry you haf to see this video for yourself, however I can sense your so naive and gullible to the point where you believe everything they say! I hate to say this... They probably have never been truly your friends...".

You went to hug Grimmjow as you cried on his left shoulder, as you continued to sob, "This is all my fault! If I never had any drinks, then non of this would have happened! If I can't trust my friends, who in the hell can I trust?!". Grimmjow then hugged you, while petting the back of your head, as he replied, "Unfortunately that's life... They're just the wrong friends for you... Also don't blame yourself! None of this is your fault and you didn't know better! Those me and your fake friends are in fault... Not you! Now you know who really are trying to make you their prey... And I get we just met, however maybe we should know eachother better, so we can work on trusting eachother... I will admit... I might be an asshole, but I'm not as heartless, as I seem to be...". After the conversation you and Grimmjow had together, he letted you eat the food he cooked for you that you were able to eat up, to ensure you feel better, considering you were having an upset stomach from what happened to you at the nightclub that night.

After you were feeling all better, you and Grimmjow agreed on letting you live in Hueco Mundo, considering that you would live anywhere he would live in. Despite that he did warn you that Hueco Mundo is a dangerous place to live in considering there are hollows who are extremely strong, mean, and heartless who have no honor, you still would be happy to go anywhere with him, because he saved your life and you knew you would feel safer in Hueco Mundo, than you would bring around those who you thought were your friends. Years after living with Grimmjow in Hueco Mundo, you never looked back, as you felt in your heart, soul, and gut that this is one of the best decisions you had ever made. (Up to the reader's imagination if she does end up having a relationship with Grimmjow)

🐆🩵The End🩵🐆

I will admit I did get alot of ideas for this Grimmjow fanfic and I decided the ideas I have written down for the fanfic, I'm not letting that go to waste and I really had fun coming up with ideas for this fanfic about Grimmjow🐆😃👍Last year, I was going to write a similar idea with a particular Soul Reaper who I haven't written about before, however I cancelled out on a similar idea, because I did procrastinate on some fanfics and haven't continued on with certain fanfics in the drafta such as the fanfic idea I had for this particular Soul Reaper, I wasn't 💯% sure if I could pull off with the similar idea at the time last year, and I basically couldn't keep ideas for this similar fanfic while continuing on with other ideas with it where I letted the ideas for planning a similar go to waste last year. Fortunately ideas for this Grimmjow fanfic came in my head and despite of these ideas going in my head there are alot of inspirations for this Grimmjow fanfic. If I did make any spelling or grammar mistakes I may have rushed the fanfic without reading it thoroughly and stuff, otherwise I did try my best with spelling and grammar while trying to look on spelling with certain words. As for "bitch" or "virgin hoe", I have used the word virgin before, while the words "bitch" and "hoe" I rarely use with writing fanfics, however considering the way I'm writing about the reader's friends, their motives, and stuff, this is 1 of the rare fanfics I have written "bitch" and/or hoe in. As for Grimmjow, I really wanted to write something about him. Months before I discovered Tumblr, I grew fascinated with Grimmjow😃👍I just knew there's something to like about him. To be honest, I just like him, with or without any reasons🐆😁👍As time went by, I have found out there are other people who like him, which I'm really happy about🙂 I also have been thinking about possibly writing another Grimmjow fanfic or so somewheres in the future, even if it's near future🐆😃👍Anyways my Tumblr Peeps, I hope you enjoyed this Grimmjow fanfic I have written 🐆😁👍

[redmarstian]

Happy 420: You pass the blunt to Mars & she just takes a bite out of it before passing it along.

[witchyy-kittyy]

struggle with substance abuse? naw fam, i'm actually great at it!

[rervraiilstew]

flipping people off tic they could never make me like you.