Seventy Things Squidward Hates About Squilliam Fancyson

==Seventy Things Squidward Hates About Squilliam Fancyson==
#His snobbery
#The way he flaunts his wealth
#His fame
#His body
#But mostly his wealth and fame
#His self-satisfied laugh
#His nervous laugh
#His laugh right before he starts crying
#His laugh when something strikes him as funny
#Or when someone tickles him
#Not so much on his torso or his feet, but right at the base of his neck. It’s actually more of a squeal than a laugh
#The blobby birthmark beneath his bellybutton. The one he claims looks like a heart, but actually looks more like a deformed lima bean
#The way he rolls his Rs when he’s overly pleased with himself
#The look he gives me when he knows he’s right
#The look he gives me when he knows I’m right
#The look he gives me when he’s afraid I might not want him anymore
#The look he gives me when I unintentionally hurt him
#The look he gives me when I intentionally cheer him up
#I meant unintentionally. When I UNintentionally cheer him up. Because I certainly wouldn’t waste my time cheering him up purposefully
#The fact that he’s ambidextrous
#The way he can curl onto the couch as though he’s insubstantial, bundled under a blanket with that lost-puppy expression he tends to get when he thinks no one’s noticing.
#Not that I would ever notice, because I hate him too much to care
#His overzealous sexual appetite
#Which isn’t limited to any set race, gender, age, species, or … well, anything
#The way he mentally recites the alphabet whenever he doesn’t want to hear something, but his face looks calm, so no one can ever tell when he’s upset or tuning you out
#The way he always remembers the things I said/believed/did in high school, even though I forgot them moments after they happened
#The fact that he was so dang popular in high school
#But he doesn’t have a best friend
#Or any friends, if you ask him
#Even though he’s almost never alone
#Because he fears abandonment, even if he hates clinginess
#The fact that asymmetry bothers him
#Which is probably why his unibrow is so neatly trimmed
#In fact, I hate his unibrow
#Especially the way it bunches slightly when he’s confused
#I especially hate the way he hogs the blankets
#And cuddles
#But only when he’s asleep
#hate the way his nose wrinkles when he’s disgusted
#And the way his eyes widen when he’s surprised
#And sparkle when he’s pleased
#I doubt my eyes ever sparkle
#The way his body matches mine perfectly
#And the way he fits perfectly inside me
#And I fit perfectly inside him
#(because god forbid he even be consistent with dominating-why does he always make ME do everything?)
#The scared little face he gets right before I fuck him
#As if he thinks I might actually hurt him this time
#The almost-pained expression he makes when he cums
#The way he tastes
#The fact that he tastes better than I do
#And yes, I’m including jizz in that category
#Not that I’ve ever eaten my own jizz to verify this fact
#Or, uh, his either
#…
#The way he leaves after we fuck and I worry that he won’t come back
#The fact that he always, always comes back
#The fact that lately he’s been staying longer than usual
#And not just for the sex, either
#The fact that he can’t cook worth shit
#And isn’t the kind of guy to make someone breakfast in bed
#But would happily order in, if we were staying at his house
#Except we almost never are at his house
#Because he both loves and loathes his wealth
#The fact that we live vicariously through one another
#The way he humiliates me in front of his friends
#The fact that this doesn’t even bother me any longer
#Because at least he’s talking about me at all
#The sound his feet make on my linoleum
#The sound his body makes against my mattress
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