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samwrights · 4 years

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Yo , can I have a kyotani kentaro nsfw thanks

OH HELL YEAH~

Warnings; praise, soft sex, shower oral, no actual penetration.

Contrary to what many people thought of Kyoutani Kentarou back in high school, he was a good partner to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stayed with him for as long as you had. Five years later, with your guys’ third year at Aoba Johsai High School as the starting point, the two of you were still going strong. Sure, Mad Dog was and is rough around the edges, but that doesn’t make him any less suitable as a partner. If anything, that made him more perfect in your eyes. Perhaps it was because you knew him better than anyone else and knew his subtle tells of when he was frustrated with himself versus someone else.

Kyoutani is more vocal when he’s frustrated with someone else—even if that someone is you—he has no problem slamming everything they did to piss him off. But when he was upset with himself, he’s more quiet than normal. He won’t look you in the eye the moment he walks in the door and he certainly won’t receive the kiss you try to greet him with. Instead, he turns his cheek and grumpily stuffs whatever he’s carrying into the foyer closet.

“What’s eatin’ at ya, babe?” You asked as he angrily kicks off his sneakers and stuffs them into the aforementioned closet. His eyes are downcast and he’s focused more on the grains of the hardwood flooring than your slightly worried expression. Apparently he’d gone off to the gym to get some volleyball practice in and work off frustrations, but his typical tactics hadn’t seemed to work. Instead, Kyoutani skulks off to your en-suite, presumably to take a shower as he always did, walking straight past the meal you had laid out for the two of you on the dining room table. A sigh leaves your lips before you move to cover up the food. It seemed that dinner would have to wait because whatever the hell is eating at Kentarou is bad.

After covering up and placing everything in the fridge, you tip-toe your way towards the running water, cautiously shedding off your own clothes before peeling back the curtain enough for you to face your boyfriend’s back. Much to your surprise, he isn’t vigorously scrubbing at his skin or harshly lathering shampoo into his bleached locks. Kyoutani is just standing there, head down with a hand clenched in a fist against the tile wall as water cascades down his sopping locks. “Baby,” you call out cautiously, gingerly pressing the pads of your fingers into the space between his shoulder blades, “talk to me.”

At first, he remains quiet. Not that you expected anything different from Kyoutani Kentarou. But he withdraws his fist from the tile as he stands at his full height, head tilted towards you with his eyes closed in an almost pained squint. “Are you...happy? With me?” His eyes remain closed.

“Kentarou...” Rarely did you ever call him by his first name, despite being together for half a decade. If anything, you loved calling him KyouKen even though he hated it. You loved his last name as well, hoping maybe one day it would be yours too. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Who the hell put the idea in your head that I wasn’t?”

“Nobody,” he snaps vehemently, though quickly realizing that only made his case sound worse. “Just—ugh—I went to go practice with Yahaba and—“

“He asked why I was still with you, didn’t he?” It shouldn’t have surprised him, or you for that matter, that you knew instantly what was bothering him. But his honey gold eyes open in shock, in weariness, and in almost pain.

He’d never felt like he deserved you. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

“KyouKen, I love you.” You remind him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. “I will always love you.”

“Why?” A sigh escapes your lips before you move your hands to cup his cheeks, pulling him down for a fervent kiss. The motion allows the water to mist over your head, letting droplets drip down your forehead. Shamelessly, your tongue laves at the skin of his dry lips before prying them apart and exploring his mouth. Reluctantly, Kyoutani wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until your chests are flush against each other.

“Kentarou, I don’t need you to be the perfect boyfriend. I need you to be you.”

“Why?” He asks again.

“You’re passionate,” your lips attach themselves into his collarbones that are, thankfully, at eye level with you. It’s comfortable, you notice, as your hands trail down to rest them on his beefy chest. But you don’t linger for long—your man has a wounded ego. You’d be damned if you stopped at one simple compliment.

“Driven and motivating,” each of these words were punctuated by a single, tantalizing suck of each of his nipples before your lips made their way down his abs. All the while, Kyoutani watches in both wonder and in earnest, listening carefully to your reasoning because he needs it.

“Strong,” your voice barely comes out as a rumble as you kiss his navel. What does come out are words dripping with desire because goddamn it, even kissing his trembling muscles that are held together with tanned skin turns you on. It turns him on just as much, you muse, as your face to face with his erect cock.

“And down right sexy,” Kyoutani lets out an audible groan, thick fingers immediately threading in your hair as your lips wrap around his length. Maybe it’s out of a need to prove you love him, maybe it’s because you’re undeniably turned on, or maybe it’s just because you love sucking his dick, but all stops have been pulled as you swallow his length.

“Fuck,” he hisses when your lips meet with his pelvis, “love you so much,” the blonde mumbles out as you start bobbing up and down his length like a woman starved. Normally Kyoutani would be rough, telling you to take all of his cock until you couldn’t breathe or spanking you until your ass was bright red. Today was not normal. Today, Kyoutani needed love and reassurance and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it to him.

“Love you too, sugarplum.” You tease when you finally pull away. Though not entirely, as evident by your hand still holding onto his dick while giving kitten licks around the head. “Let me show you how much.”

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smokeybrand · 3 years

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Poppycock

Last night, i read a ton of the Crossed comics. I’d been seeing the Horsecock meme for a few years now and finally decided to pull the trigger to see what all the fuss was about. I’m always curious about ho the US does mature content in anything other than cinema because it rarely ever turns out decent. So how does Crossed fair? As something that wears it’s graphic nature on it’s sleeve, is it the unicorn that finally executes mature content, overt sexual situations, and storytelling in a way that is both satisfying and rewarding to the reader? No. No it does not. Crossed sucks. There shouldn’t be fuss because this sh*t is trash. Aside from the fact that the art is ugly as sin, making it incredibly difficult to want to keep reading, the actual narrative content is mediocre at it’s best and a whole ass dumpster fire at it’s worst. This sh*t is peak, teenage, edgelord, nonsense and it’s weird there are so many f*cking issues in the franchise. How is Crossed so successful? F*ck, dude, The Walking Dead does this entire narrative better. It’s like someone read that, removed all of the compelling character work and intricate world building, amped up the gore to cartoonishly ghoulish levels, and sh*t it out into a public too lazy to do the work. The Walking Dead is a story where the violence is a consequence of the plot. Crossed is a narrative that in service to, and almost an afterthought of, the violence. It’s the Michael Bay of this specific genre and i hated every minute i spent reading this trash. Also, and i can’t stress this enough, the art in these books is f*cking ugly. Not disgusting like they want it to be, but fundamentally poorly drawn.

Now, i may be a too hard on this series. May be. I’m not entirely sure but i feel like I'm not. I as raised on Eighties era Japanimation. That’s what we called it back then, not anime. Weebs weren’t a thing a yet, we were Otaku. I had a subscription to Newtype when i was, like twelve, that’s how deep i was into that sh*t. That’s how deep i am still into that sh*t. It’s wild seeing the culture shifts and how everything gets sanitized as appeal broadens but that’s a different essay. My point is i grew up on sh*t like Angel Cop, Dark City, Battle Angel Alita, and Akira. Tits and gore and sex and ultraviolence. It was intricately detailed and never skimped on the grim reality but was drawn with a passionate reverence for the art form. Hell, even films that have cultural significance and are heralded as high art like Grave of the Fireflies, never shied away from the brutality necessary for that narrative. I’ve seen a lot of f*cked up sh*t before my tenth birthday because of my love for the Japanese imports so i might be desensitized to this kind of stuff. That said, i know shock schlock when i see it and Crossed is definitely that. It’s an ugly, bloated, meandering, franchise filled with bad writing, poor art, and uninspired storytelling. We’ve seen this narrative before. Something triggers an apocalypse. Terrible people are terrible. Earnest people are trying to survive in the new status quo of nightmare and brutality. Now and Then, Here and There, did this much better, with less mutilation and more character development. The f*cking Mad Max franchise is built on this sh*t and Fury Road won Oscars for it. You don’t have to be Hemingway but, f*ck, give us something! Crossed doesn’t even present the bare minimum

Nothing is in service to a narrative. It’s all just murderrapezombies just for the shock of murderrapezombies. Holy sh*t, there’s incest in Family Values? That’s horrifying! Yosuga No Sora. They murdered those kids in the first limited? How f*cking bleak! Erased. I’ll admit, there are some interesting choices made in how to tell these pedestrian ass stories, Psychopath really stood out on that front, but the story, itself, is f*cking dumb. The first limited flirted with being pretty good over all but I've seen it done better elsewhere. Blood-C is a great example of that sh*t. Graphic violence, ridiculous gore you can feel, and still a damn decent overarching plot to tie it all together. The violence never overstays it’s welcome. It’s there to accentuate the powerlessness of our principals, never the main f*cking point of the story. I mentioned Alita before but if you want to focus on character, that’s your bet right there. The adventures of Gally are some of the most devastating situations you’ll ever experience. That chick has lived a life. Belladonna of Sadness is a horrible time but a beautiful watch. Want to go wide? An ensemble type narrative? AD Police. F*ck, dude, Devilman exists! Everything just mentioned, came out at least thirty f*cking years ago. Why is Crossed so bad when there is a plethora of material you can read that does this sh*t better? How can you not tell this type of story, when you have literally hundreds of example on how to tell this story properly, both contemporary and historical? And I'm only using Japanese content because that’s what I'm most familiar with. The French can give the Nihon a run for their money with some of the sh*t they’ve dropped over the years. Metal Hurlant, Heavy Metal when it skipped across the pond, is a straight up pioneer in this type of content. That motherf*cker has been publishing since the Seventies. It’s entire thing is mature storytelling and it does it in a way that’s compelling, easy on the eye, and rewarding to experience. Crossed does none of that.

Crossed is just gore porn trash. There’s no substance to be had . None of the characters are actually compelling. All of the violence is gratuitous. It’s never used as a mirror to humanity, just bloody viscera for the sake of it. It does nothing with that naked violence that has merit outside of just being there. Why do the Crossed f*cked each other to death? Is the fact that there are a mother and son character f*cking matter outside of the intrinsic revulsion humans are supposed to feel toward that type of sh*t? Where is the narrative reward for that guy f*cking a moose corpse? I can’t express how try-hard all of this comes across. There’s so much rape and mutilation in this thing, it just becomes normal. All the carnage s just background noise at some point and you’re left with lackluster storytelling for the remainder of the read. Like, there’s a scene where a bunch of these assholes are circle jerking into a bowl of bullets to turn people they shoot. That’s a scene in this comic which had potential. You could have explored how maybe the Crossed are more capable and build them up as a far deadlier threat. Nope. Another shows a bunch of Crossed eating baby corpses in an long abandoned delivery room. Why? What’s the point of this scene? How much harder would it hit if it wasn’t Crossed eating the fetus jerky, but regular people? This is how low some people would stoop just to live another day, even if that day is in a living hell. I read Sweet Tooth a few weeks back and it has a lot in common with Crossed. They can be companion pieces. Sweet Tooth is infinitely better. It does all the things you need to do, in order to tell this type of story. Emotional anchoring, strong motivations, a unrelenting sense of bleak struggle; Sweet Tooth is everything Crossed should have been. Instead, i got horsecock.

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wishingfornever · 5 years

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1/31/2018 – No Contact: Petty Bourgeois Emotion

If there is a God then he would truly be a tyrant.

Sorry… Starting off a bit strong. The point is, I realized why I haven’t been able to tend to my journal as of late. I got a TON of hours lately. So much so that I can’t really handle the journal. I get home late at night, consider writing in my journal, but I forget. Then I have to fall asleep. I hear my cousin in the other room… I don��t want to wake her. So, nothing gets done.

A lot of work means little time for play. My days off consist of me doing nothing for an hour and then realizing that hour lasted the entire day. D’oh.

Work went well today… was thinking of some of the things I wanted to tell you but haven’t due to… well, the workload. It’ll lighten up in a bit. I work today (current time being 12:45 in the morning, which means I would have been the 30th of January instead of 31st had I hustled, but whatever). I worked yesterday, of course, and it went… well. The day before, not so much. The 29th… Really bad. I don’t think Diana likes me.

I’ve been punished for my lust. :/

I thought my manager I have been closing with did too. No, she’s just usually annoyed. She speaks so softly and I can’t hear that well because everything was loud with my dad. I really realized I’m not fond of my dad, lately. :/

Regardless, work went well today. It’s a tuesday, so better than monday. January is the Monday of Months, of course.

My manager was late for her bus on the 29th. Yesterday (or today, whatevs) we got out at a regular time. It’s great. I hope she caught her bus but idk. I had a lot of time to think, mind you. Think of… what? My life?

I’m feeling more centered. Found… several songs. One is an animation… Beautiful, I think. Just… it appeals to me. I have it on repeat, basically. It’s… given me a bit of hope. I listen to the lyrics and… well, I relate.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRpiBvwKX6c

The song is called “The Villain I Appear to be” which is apt. Listen to it… maybe you’d disagree. After reading what you’ve read. Knowing what you know. Maybe you’ll know better. Maybe I’m not familiar with the villain I really am. Hard to tell.

There are several other songs. Expanded my favorites. It’s… helped. Music is a salve for the soul. These songs, I’ve stumbled upon in one way or another… they’ve been a light when I’ve been totally isolated in solemn darkness.

There is this song… makes me think of Esther. I think I’ll keep it to myself. It’s a good song, but I’ve already shared one in this post. Won’t share another.

Man… Was thinking about Dennis earlier today. Months ago, I was coming up with a plan. I was going to call Esther a whore or something? I wouldn’t have meant it but if Dennis exploded at Shane, he’d DEFINITELY exploded at me. So, I would have picked a fight. Would have been easy.

Again, months ago. I was more angry then. After he blocked me when I thought we could reconcile. Bullshit. That’s still bullshit.

Whatever. Point is, after doing some weight training… I’m not sure I could take him. Not confident in my strength anymore. This is why I think God is a tyrant. This was the one thing I had faith in and now… it’s gone. I had nightmares where I’d just decay and my muscles would weaken. Maybe that was my body trying to tell me that my horrors became the facts.

I’m not pleased.

Needless to say, I’m not trying to get in a fist fight with Dennis. Not anymore, at least. I need more exercise first, and even then… I don’t think I have the heart for it. Then again, the ORIGINAL plan was to have him hit me but I know he wouldn’t do that. We’d have to agree on the fight to make it legal. It’s on private property, so it should be fine.

I thought about it long and hard. Again, not the plan anymore. I guess the plan is to keep bitching about them until I get tired of it. Yay?

Been watching a lot of streamers lately. Probably a bad thing. It’s been making me late. I’ve considered streaming myself. Gives me someone to talk to. I am starting to feel the lack of friends. I’ve selected this solitude for myself. How generous I’ve become. D’oh…

Oh, my NationState. MN Has been INACTIVE. Yes, for reasons. Mostly that I’m busy and the responsibilities stress me the FUCK out. Like, really. Life sucks. -,-

Among my musical discoveries, I also discovered the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen. A PornStar. At least, she was the most initially attractive woman. Her name I Mia Magma, born several years before me. A German woman and it took me forever to discover this. I saw her doing a very passionate blowjob and I couldn’t even fap. She just had the face of an angel.

Later, I discovered her teeth were somewhat peculiar and she doesn’t have much of an ass, unfortunately. Ah, well.

Still, she’s a beautiful woman. I made a PornHub account just to say she’s beautiful. Used my public screen name as my private screen name was… taken. I avoid numbers. Bad luck. So, I said fuck it. I don’t have anything to hide from anyone. Why should I care? Oh, what if someone finds me? Finds where I live and kills me? Bah! I don’t care. Doubt they would.

That said, I realized I might not have mentioned this. I was watching A LOT of porn and I was concerned that I miiiiiight have had viruses. Could have explained the blue screening too. So, I found an antivirus. Got a years subscription. Would get too but I’ve been talking to one of my cousins about getting a new one. Seems since the bitcoin bubble, prices for computers went up. I think I mentioned this, actually…

Regardless, I’d have to get a new antivirus if I get a new computer and I think this one would at least last the year. I found USB drives at work. Cheap and should be big enough for this file. I’ll move the important files over to it and work directly from there. Hopefully, if my computer dies before I’m through, I’ll be prepared and I won’t have to salvage everything or start over.

I woke up this morning screaming. No, didn’t dream about Esther. Leg cramped. Right calf. I could feel the muscle in a place it wasn’t supposed to be. Not a good sign. Thought today was going to be bad. It may have been… a little bit. Again, for the most part it was good. Tiresome though…

I’ve been trying to get back into gaming but… eh. It’s sort of why I wanted to start streaming. So I could have a REASON to get back into gaming. It’s not a good way, but it’s something. In fact, I should probably embrace not gaming. It might help. Idk.

You know, I don’t ever get to share what I want to share. I know I’ll forget something but… Eh. I’m going to watch a French-Iranian movie called “Persepolis.” I just downloaded a picture quoting the movie so I figured I’d enjoy the source material. After, might play a game of… something and go to bed. Idk. Tomorrow, I don’t work. :D

Persepolis… was a really good movie. Though, I think it hinted that she (Marjane Satrapi) was raped at one point? Two men and she was sleeping in an alleyway. I hope she wasn’t. :/

I liked how in the movie, she wasn’t afraid to portray herself as the villain. She acknowledged what she was doing was wrong. As a child wanting to gouge out the eyes of another child and other instances into adulthood. Heavy stuff. Of course, some cases… she did what she had to. Still, she regretted what she had done afterwards but she acknowledged that they were wrong. She didn’t hide her own injustices.

As a Communist, that’s good. In a debate, Stalin and Mao are inevitably brought up. Can’t deny they happened, can only educate as to WHY it happened. If the fools you’re debating refuse to learn then they aren’t looking for a debate but a confrontation. You won’t sway minds because they’re not offering their minds to be swayed. They have nothing on their mind beyond, “You’re the enemy” despite not knowing why.

There is a lot of history. Concerning imperialism over Iran, the war with Iraq, the religious dictatorship. Marx said religion was the opiate of the masses. I wonder if Satrapi is a practicing Muslim. Wouldn’t be surprised… she thought she’d be a prophet when she got older. Have sections where she spoke to god directly. Then there was Karl Marx, which was interesting. Apparently, after doing a bit of research, she compared Marx to God? Yeah, that sounds like something ripe with controversy.

Still, as I said, I wasn’t expecting much communism in the movie. I mean, the picture I downloaded… it says “Love is a petty bourgeois emotion” with Marjane looking at a dog. I thought the movie was going to be about something else, I didn’t realize the heavy political undertone. I like how everyone but Marjane and her mother have American accents. They both have Iranian accents. Of course, the religious guard have actually… kind of soft and gentle American accents. If it wasn’t for the fact that they were the bad guys, they’d be… adorable.

They all look the same and when they’re not harassing people, they seem quite earnest. Weird to say. Like, they confront Marjane because she’s running and that makes her butt jiggle. She explodes at them (love a strong woman) and they’re confused and almost sad. Again, these guys are all interchangeable with one another. Not sure if that’s intentional or not.

I hope… my books sell well enough to the point that I can contact Marjane. Ask her questions, trade ideas… She is the Frida of my generation. An incredible and deep artist with Communist tendencies? Yes, please. And I think her and her family are terribly clever. I respect that.

I feel like I’ve been getting more dumb lately. Spelling errors, punctuation errors, etc. I’m slipping.

I also want to talk to her now. I need… guidance. Someone who can understand me. She had depression and I certainly do. We have different backgrounds but I get her. Of course, she parties a bit more than I do. She’s not a social outcast, now that I think about it… but she is a wide eyed dreamer. Typical communist, I know. ;)

I’m not like Marjane. Maybe she won’t understand me, now that I think about it. But we are likeminded… perhaps a better word but eh. Could just be wishful thinking.

Eh… I found a page on facebook… as well as facebook profiles. There are tons. Think adding her is too personal. I liked the public page. I want to send her a message but… what would I say?

Hi, I’m a young 20 something with NOTHING happening in my life and I feel like a chronic failure. Our only similarities is that we’re both communists and struggle or used to struggle with depression! Please respond!

I… don’t like messaging famous people. I feel like I’m just… trying to get attention. I don’t like being noticed by the streamer while watching twitch for similar reasons. I feel a lot of guilt for something totally irrelevant.

So… I ended up venting in a stream. Mentioned that I want to message Marjane. Someone told me that if I were to ask for guidance ask if she has time to chat. I just discovered her. That’s… rushing things, I guess? I don’t know. Maybe I should research her more? I don’t know. I don’t know anything. :/

Ugh… I’m caught at a bad time. Very bad time. But that’s life, eh? I’m going to go to bed. Maybe… maybe I’ll message Marjane tomorrow. Talk to her… share my story… Or something, I don’t know. All that I know is that I know nothing.

Time is 11:50.

I was offered a job at work today. Discount Tire. Overtime is 20 per hour. Not sure what it means for regular pay but it’ll be better than Dollar General. I’m excited.

I’ve been feeling very… inspired, I guess. Not necessarily inspired positively or negatively just more susceptible to emotions. When I found out I’ve been noticed, I was just agape with joy. I was hoping earlier that it’d happen to me because I was thinking the universe was turning against me. That maybe I wouldn’t get the chance to see Ariel. My frivolous spending spree has set me back by a lot… I won’t get a card until next week. I’ll call the number and get set up.

I’m excited. More money means Ariel comes sooner… but I also said I wanted to leave. I’d leave later because this would be a more serious job. Maybe I could get it when I come back? If I come back? I don’t know. I’ll see how I feel.

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