#the brain fodder is still STRONG

[archonghoul]

A comic I did for Goth's birthday back in 2022! Thinking about Error stepping back into Goth's life and trying to build a relationship with him again hurts my feelings. ;w;

#errortale #goth sans #goth #error #destructivedeath #afterdeath #both are implied at least #utmv #utau #sfw #I think a lot about how things would be for Goth and Reaper after Geno disappeared. 💔 #I might delve into more situations like this one day #the brain fodder is still STRONG #I forgot to upload this one between all the requests lmao whoops #p4tr3on #my art

[firelxdykatara]

sorry not sorry but i'm actually completely fine with getting a version of katara where she wasn't parentified at eight years old (something that was lampshaded but never actually unpacked or presented as something she shouldn't have gone through, it was in fact not part of her arc to work through this in the original show and the proof of that is in the fact that she was shoved into an endgame 'romance' with someone for whom she'd expressed no romantic interest, even when prompted, and whom she spent a large portion of the show mothering). a katara who still had to deal with the trauma of her mother's death, but without having to become her own mother and her brother's mother on top of it in her place. katara whose struggle with waterbending is rooted in trauma, because her power is what her mother was killed for, her mother who died protecting her. katara who struggles to be taken seriously not because she's a silly girl with magic water but because her brother still sees her as his baby sister who needs him to be strong and she desperately wants him to lean on and trust her because that's what she needs to be able to grow.

and i like getting to see sokka actually behaving like a big brother! sokka whose responsibilities to his people and to his sister are treated seriously, rather than as fodder for jokes. sokka who is still a dork and a goofball and a pragmatist but underneath it all is that fear that he isn't actually good enough--that his family and his village don't actually need him, and who is he if his own sister is grown and doesn't need him anymore either? (sokka who is terrified of katara learning to bend not because he doesn't take her power seriously but because that's exactly what got their mother killed, and it's so, so obvious they've had that fight many times before.)

are they the exact same characters we got in the original cartoon? no, but i never expected them to be and frankly i didn't want them to be. something that every fanfic writer doing an AU or canon divergence has to grapple with is how would having these different experiences change the way this character behaves and interacts with and perceives the world. do i think the live action did it perfectly? no, but then the original show was far from perfect to begin with and i never expected perfection in this adaptation.

what i do think, though, is that i can see where certain creative decisions were made and the resulting ripple effect, i can understand the logic behind them--and i can enjoy the end result, because a lot of it is stuff i've rolled around in my brain in the past anyway. and what i really want to see is where things are headed in the future.

#atla #atla la #katara #sokka #im a natla apologist at this point #gonna do a more comprehensive overview of my thoughts later on probably im still letting stuff percolate #but i had a great time and really enjoyed what we were given

[skinks]

It’s not reaching to read strong ass themes about autonomy and personhood into titanfall’s 5 hour campaign, and even if it were reaching I would still be having just as much fun jamming all my favourite themes into its gears. The neural link alone is ripe fodder. What does it mean to bond mentally to a synthetic consciousness, let alone one that is programmed to the point of destruction to protect you. To be kept inside its body but to have control of its body transferred to you at the robot’s decision. BT says “Cooper is my pilot,” so by extension this makes BT into Cooper’s titan.

BT’s first protocol is to link to the pilot - in essence, he cannot function unless he is possessed by a human, both in the physical and metaphorical sense. They’re inside each other’s minds and bodies and yet they retain distinct selfhood. Are a titan’s protocols and programming any different from having strong guiding morals? Is the electricity that comprises the consciousness of an organic brain any more significant than the electricity that makes up a datacore? If a robot can learn its decision-making principles through a direct link with its human’s neurons, would it not follow that the robot develops a decision-making matrix that resembles human free will. What if the human in question has grown up through war and has volunteered his own body and personhood to a war for freedom. Aren’t both of their bodies used for the same purpose? Aren’t their identities the same? Their morals?

Plus the entire story is about trust. BT says it over and over, trust me, trust me. To trust something is to have confidence that it will follow through on the promises it gives, like trusting a bridge won’t collapse because you have confidence in its strength. To love someone is to accept they have free will and to help them make the best decisions for themselves, because you can’t control them. When Cooper climbs into the injection mechanism with BT he has to know the dropship rendezvous isn’t coming, he isn’t stupid, and he tells BT he “isn’t going anywhere,” aka, without him. He understands the decision BT has made, and he goes along willingly. Cooper trusts him. He accepts the presence of BT’s free will, because he can’t control what BT does immediately after this. BT overrides the pilot control of his own body, of his own volition, his own free will, because he can’t let Cooper make the wrong decision for himself, even if it was a decision Cooper was making out of love and loyalty. Ergo he loves the robot and the robot loves him

#titanfall 2 #bt-7274 #jack cooper #I’m blair witching in a corner as I say all of this btw

[bullet-prooflove]

The MissingPiece! Series Part Two: Cabin In the Woods - Luke Alvez x Reader

Tagging: @celilice1 @kabloswrld @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @anime-weeb-4-life @rosaliedepp @storiesofsvu @desert-fern @99-reasons-to-live @legit9thlunaticwarrior @niya12 @yehhdh @cupids-lover @teti-menchon0604 @telepathay @julieelliewrites

The Missing Piece Series:

Part One: The Missing Piece

Luke was already bolting from the SUV before Tara pulled up in front of the Noah Billingham’s cabin. There were a thousand protocols he should be following but all he could think of was how much time they were losing, how much they had already lost. His SIG was in his hand, fitting his palm like an old friend as he strode towards the cabin with purpose.

Penelope managed to track this place down through the server that Billingham had been livestreaming your entire life to. Your landlord had been stalking you for years, installing cameras throughout your apartment so he could watch every single intimate detail. It sickened Luke to think about what he had seen, that those private moments between the two of you were fodder to fuel Billingham’s fantasy.

It was the move that finally triggered him. The fact he wouldn’t have the access to you anymore, that you were taking that step with someone else. It had ruined the carefully crafted narrative that the other man had constructed inside of his head. That’s why he had abducted you, he had wanted to turn the story he’d told himself into a reality. He wanted the full-on girlfriend experience, even if you were an unwilling participant.

The heavy door to the cabin was thrown open, bathing the rotting wooden porch in warm light. Luke’s gun was up when the silhouette appeared in the doorway, his finger tightening on the trigger.

It took his brain a moment to focus, to process what he was seeing. There was screaming and yelling around him, but he holstered his weapon anyway. He held his palm up as he approached the figure in the white blood stained, silk nightdress. The knife glinted in the light from the cabin, the stench of copper in the air. His dark eyes met yours, his voice low and soothing.

“Baby, I need you to put the knife down.”

Your hand trembled, your eyebrows furrowing into a frown as you stared on him. The knife tumbled from your grasp, clattering as it hit the slats beneath your bare feet. The screaming was still ongoing, the shrill cry of someone in agony. It took Luke a second to work out it was coming from inside the house.

“Are you hurt?” he asked you, maintaining the same tone as he took shaky steps towards you. His eyes were studying you, searching for scratches, cuts, anything that would explain the blood that stained your skin.

“I stabbed him.” You told him, despondently. “He tried…”

You couldn’t force yourself to say the words and Luke’s heart broke.

His strong, loving arms furled around you, drawing you into the shelter of his comforting form. You collapsed against his body, your fists gripping his plaid shirt tightly. You buried your face into his firm chest, inhaling his familiar masculine scent, pine and cedarwood. It washed over your nerves as you breathed it in.

The relief was imminent, touching you again was like having a rush of narcotics pursing through his blood stream. He clasped you tightly as his team darted past you and into the confines of the cabin. His lips brushed the apple of your cheek as he whispered sweet endearments against your skin. You felt so fragile right now, so exhausted, so dilapidated.

"Tell me that this is real." You breathed in that low, frightened voice of yours. "Tell me that this is happening, and I'm not still trapped in there, making this up."

It hurt him to hear the cracking of your tone as you struggled to comprehend the bridge between reality and hope. He wanted to go in there and end Billingham’s life for what he’d done to you but he didn’t because you needed him, you were the most important thing in his life and you needed him to be here and present.

"This is real, beautiful girl." Luke murmured as he cradled you close. "I’m here and this is real."

He closed his eyes as he held you, his fingers combed through your hair, a gesture that  he knew reassured and calmed you. His heart thudded against yours through the fabric of your clothes.

"I love you." You mumbled as you tilted your head so that you could meet his gaze. "I don't think I said it before you left."

"I know." Luke told you, his voice rough with emotion as he saw all the hurt that was fracturing you deep inside. "I always knew."

You had never looked so vulnerable, dressed a white silk nightdress that didn’t belong to you in the cold Washington night.  He stripped off his windbreaker and wrapped it around your shoulders, it dwarfed you, swallowing up your form completely. The scent of him clung to the collar, the lining still warm from his body heat. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders before guiding you back towards the SUV.

“Come on.” He murmured, his lips brushing over the side of your head. “Let’s get you somewhere warm.”

Love Luke? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#reader x luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez imagine #luke alvez x you #luke alvez #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds evolution #criminal minds

[liskantope]

Lately I've been thinking a lot more about my love of creative writing from when I was much younger (part of this was triggered by the recent experience of reading Almost Nowhere I think) and how I wish I could try to build such a skill as an adult, starting with short stories, but my main problem is not really any good ideas for even a short a fiction story. My brain has long (for around twenty years, I'd say) given up spontaneously trying to generate them by habit.

And then I had the craziest dream experience last night, where I found myself in the midst of an intricate social plot where one of the people involved turned out not to be real but a psychotic delusion which had been nonetheless affecting everything that happened. And I "woke up" out of it while still dreaming (I suppose you could say in a "shallower" layer of dream), reflected on the story that had occurred in the dream, and used it to concoct a complex plot that I felt would be perfect for a short story (something that I had to admit would be on the fairly long end of the spectrum of "short story"). The main hook of the story would be this imaginary person which only existed in the mind of the narrator -- I even came up with a name for this person which was Tom with a single-syllable last name that I thought sounded like a really good fictional character name. Besides the eventually-revealed-to-be-imaginary Tom and the rather ambiguous narrator, there were two female characters involved (one of them inspired on a more aesthetic level by a real-life friend). At every moment I was coming up with another connection that made the structure of the story more brilliant in my mind (while pleasantly aware that many details still had to be filled in), thought triumphantly "I've finally come up with a great idea for a story!"...

...and then I sort of woke up but was still not entirely awake, fairly lucid but still convinced I had found a wonderful idea for a piece of fiction writing (telling myself "it's not like those ideas that come in dreams that turn out to be garbled nonsense", also "I should report this in a Tumblr post!"). But I had immediately forgotten most of the details, including Tom's last name (ah, if only I saw a list of possible surnames I would remember which one it was, but I decided for now, well, that could still be salvaged by calling him Tom Roots even though I was sure Roots was not the original last name). I actually spent quite a while in that almost-awake state trying to rack my brains or bring back the dream so that I could remember the full idea before giving up and falling back entirely asleep.

In the morning it occurred to me that having a major character turn out to be a product of the psyche of the narrator/protagonist obviously isn't as original as I'd imagined in my partly-asleep state -- see Tyler Durden for instance -- although I still have the strong feeling that I was employing that plot device in a very distinct way somehow. It seems likely that my idea really was partially nonsense or at least largely incoherent, but hey, it was fun for a bit of last night while getting some sleep in to think I had exciting fodder for some original fiction.

#my dream #fiction writing #fight club

[fonulyn]

For the ask game: top five Piers moments from canon (any level of canon, games or tie-in manga or whatever). :P

Btw, good to see you back on my dash, glad you're feeling a bit better <3

OKAY SO this is hard :'D

one. his reaction when Finn tells him "to fight bioterrorism!" lmao I love his temper okay. his expression there is the best thing i want to pinch his damn cheeks. a still image doesn't do it any justice but this is the moment I'm talking about:

and the moment just before it, when he drops his head back in frustration when Jake and Sherry leave, it's. perfect :'D

two. BABY GETS FOOD.

there's the moment in re6 too but he never gets to finish his steak lol. but in Marhawa he gets to eat multiple times!

three. the elevator scene with Piers and Jake arguing. it always makes me laugh, i love that they piss each other off :'D absolute fic fodder too lol. don't have actual pictures of it because it's during gameplay and not a cutscene but it never fails to make me smile so it deserves a spot on the list!

four. okay every single time he calls Chris on his bullshit tbh. I love both that he has the guts to do it and that their dynamic allows it. a honorable mention to when he yells at Chris for pulling "a kamikaze stunt like that". and the second fight after Marco dies. Piers respects Chris so much, which is evident, but he also has such a strong sense of what is right that he's willing to argue and not back down an inch. and I respect that.

(and whoever was the one that put Chris back on the field and in charge needs a swift kick in the balls because wow. but that's not a rant for now :'D)

five. and this breaks my heart but the moment he decides he's not getting into that escape pod. you can see the pain, both physical and emotional, on his face and in his posture, and I think it's such a telling moment of how he's a way better person than I would be lmao. I still wish they hadn't killed him, that Chris had kicked his ass into the pod, but I do love that small moment where he makes his choice.

baby ;; you deserved so much better.

honorable mentions? yes, because I'm a cheating cheater who cheats.

the moment where he drags Chris to safety after "Ada" wrecks their first team.

how he got someone as heavy as Chris who was complete dead weight out of there? incredible.

and I can't BELIEVE I don't have a single screencap of this but when they're in the aircraft and the missile is heading towards Leon and Chris yells and Piers looks SO DAMN WORRIED for Leon! you will pry that moment from my cold dead hands.

also, baby at the playground!!

i could spend an hour watching him go down the slide :'D it's a pity you can't play with more of the stuff there.

for some reason I've always loved this panel:

though there are so many panels in Marhawa I love :'D

I love him so much okay ahhhhh

also, thank you! :D I'm finally not sick anymore which is a definite plus. still super tired tho, let's see when i get my actual brain activity back.

#meme thingy #the ask me my top5 anything thingy #first-and-last-neocount #ask and i shall answer #piers nivans #long post

[tetsunabouquet]

Heir To The Lands Chapter 5

The Beginning of It All Masterpost

The entire group experienced a collective shock at seeing Emma. Tessa quickly kneeled beside her, drawing her up as she blasted the nearest hunter across the street. The hunter behind the group resumed it's relaxed stance, and it angered Kit. The faerie hunters might be moving in a similar formation, but whilst the group was shielded around him to protect Mina, in the case of the hunters it was clear that the hunter behind the group was the fastest and deadliest. All the other hunters were just a cannon fodder to him. The utter carelessness, that coldness, drove Kit to a white hot rage as Emma moaned in pain as Tessa drew an Iratze on her. It was strong enough to create a similar blast that had blown the Riders away years ago. The hunters were all wildly thrown in the air, but as most landed awkwardly on the ground, smashing their skulls across the pavements, the deadliest hunter made a move mid-air, that allowed him to grab a lantern pole near the end of the street. He landed on his feet, much to Kit's shock. As the group prepared for another attack, the most surprising thing happened; the hunter turnt around and he ran off. Kit blinked in surprise, before everyone circled around Emma. "There seems to have been some kind of fey poison on the blade, we should get her to Catarina," Tessa said as she looked at Jem. "Jules," Emma said hoarsely and Jem hushed her. "We'll portal from Blackthorn Hall to Dimmet Tarn. This event needs to be discussed," Jem swallowed. "I am sorry Kit, it looks like they've found us."

"Julian!" Dru yelled as Jem carried Emma in his arms, craddling her head carefully as they entered Blackthorn Hall. Kit's gaze was a panicked flutter that shot from Emma to Mina, worry for them both as Mina's young fretful eyes took in Emmas injuries and her parents' worried faces. The little girl seemed quite anxrious, and she wouldn't keep still in Kit's arms. Dru felt like she could throw up at the sight. Both Julian and Ty rushed down the stairs at the sound of Dru screaming, and Ty nearly stumbled down as he took in Emma. Julian's face was as white as a sheet of paper when he saw Emma, her face looking feverish from the poison. She was sweating, and her eyelids were fluttering. "We were attacked by faerie hunters." Jem informed him. "We need to portal to Catarina." Tessa walked towards the wall in Blackthorn Hall. "Could you help me set up the portal, Tiberius?" Her voice was kind, trying to help the boy who's hands were anxiously fluttering at his sides. Dru was grateful for her, to be honest she felt like she were pretty close to a panic attack herself. It was as if every minute, every harsh breath that Emma drew, was a minute in which Dru felt like she was getting less air herself. The world was spinning, and she was releved to see Tessa and her brother work up to set a Portal as fast as possible. It didn't take long for the bright swirl of a Portal to light the hallway, and everyone tried not to immediately rush into the light. Tessa went first, allowing the Blackthorns who hadn't seen Dimmet Tarn yet to catch a glimpse of the place, to allow them to take it in so they could visualize it for themselves. As the group left for Dimmet Tarn, Dru couldn't help but feel like this was only the beginning of something, far greater, something far more terrible.

Above the stairs, the panicked Blackthorns left someone behind. She was floating above, taking in the sight of Emma's body, her Ty's distress and Dru's panic. Livvy was consumned with her own frustration, her inability to do anything. The only thing she could do was watch… A light bulb suddenly lit up at the back of her brain, and Livvy took a deep breath. Her idea was going to be dangerous, as she didn't knew how much faeries could see or sense the ghostly realm. But it was her only choice, really. With courage burning inside of her heart, she disappeared to find whoever was responsible for this. It was time for Livvy to go to lands under the hill.

#twp #the wicked powers #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunters #shadowhunter chronicles #emma carstairs #jem carstairs #tessa gray #kit herondale #kit herongraystairs #mina carstairs #dru blackthorn #jules blackthorn #julian blackthorn #ty blackthorn #livvy blackthorn #blackthorn hall

[tokyo-revengers-writings]

Hello~! If I may request a One-shot with Ran and Rindo and a younger sibling? Who's part of Toman and they end up seeing them at a fight and maybe try and drag there sibling away?

A/n: Ofc you may request Haitani content! (I love them so much, for some weird reason.) The reader is about the Kawata's age (16 ish), given that Rindou and Ran are old men. This takes place during the Kantou incident. I may or may not have added a bit of angst, so I hope you enjoy!

You still remember the first words that came out of Mikey’s mouth when you told him you wanted to join Toman:

“I know that last name.”

Everybody knows that last name; it’s like a curse.

Haitani.

Y/n Haitani.

You never blamed anyone for being cautious; your older brothers were notorious for their gruesome nature and their hold on Roppongi.

But you’re not your brothers.

You could not be happier when Mikey set his worries aside and assigned you to Toman’s Fourth Division.

“Smiley’s a bit hard to handle,” Mikey told you, “But you’re strong and smart, and he has his brother to hold him back.”

Toman trul felt like a family. Sure, they had their moments, but for the most part, everyone was so kind. Even to somebody like you, they extended a hand and gave you a chance.

You stood tall next to Souya as Toman was beginning its fight with Tenjiku. All of you were scared; the 4th and 2nd division captains were gone, and so were the president and vice-president.

But nobody could be as scared as you were.

As Peh and Shion faced each other, you couldn’t help but scan the crowd of Tenjiku higher ups.

Then, you saw them.

Ran and Rindou Haitani.

You waited until Shion fell for you go make your move, running with Souya to knock out the lower-level Tenjiku fodder. You thought that if you snuck-

“Well, well, well,” You knew that voice, “If it isn’t the fourth division.”

The moment you turned around to face your older brothers, you could see the shock in their faces.

“Y/n?” Rindou asked, his voices lace with concern.

“What the fuck are you doing with Toman?” Ran screamed.

You gritted your teeth, “You would know if you actually talked to me every once in a while!”

“Listen to me,” Rindou lowered his voice, “You need to get the hell outta here before you get killed. This fight is gonna be nasty.”

“You know what Mikey will-”

“I don’t give a shit about Mikey!” Ran interrupted, “Get your ass outta here before you go out in a hearse, understand? This isn’t some kid fight like Valhalla or Mobius! Get that pompom looking-ass to cover you or something!”

“They’re right. I can cover-”

“No, Souya,” you put your arm out, “I’m standing my ground.”

Rindou put his arms on your shoulder, “You think we’re joking? We’ve killed people fighting; we’ve all killed people, alright?”

“They won’t target someonw who’s related to a higher-up.”

“They’re ruthless,” Ran came behind RIndou, “They won’t care that you’re a Haitani; if anything, they’ll make it more brutal. Come on, stop being stuborn and get the fuck outta here! We love you, and we don’t want to go to your funural in a few days!”

You looked to SOuya and waited for him to nod.

“I love you both too,” You gave each of your brothers a hug before you set off for Roppongi.

…

As soon as you entered the house and turned the TV on, all you could hear about was the conflict.

Three dead:

Izana Kurokawa.

Emma Sano.

Kisaki Tetta.

Five Arrested:

Shion Madrime.

Yasuhiro Mucho.

Mochizuki Kanji.

Ran Haitani.

Rindou Haitani.

Those last two names burned into your brain as you tried to process the news. Your older brothers, the people you look up to the most, the people who you saw less than two hours ago, wouldn’t be coming home.

“No, no, no!” You screamed, throwing the TV remote at the wall, “They’re fine. They’ll come home, we’ll eat dinner, and we’ll go to sleep after watching a movie! They’ll come home!”

But even your brain couldn’t deny the fact of the matter:

Your brothers won’t be coming home.

~~~

Masterlist

#tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revngers #tokyo revengers #ran haitani #angst #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers oneshot #ran and rindou #haitani ran #haitani rindou #rindo haitani #rindou haitani #haitani angst #tokyorev rindou #tokyorev ran #tokrev rindou #tokrev ran

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

You know, I still think about how like... Katsuki has never actually had a proper 1v1 vs a villain character ever. Like, it's always been with another person. All of his fights where he could shine... are against other heroes. And most of the fights where villains are involved, he loses pretty badly. But it's more than just that. Izuku's original design was going to basically be Japanese Anime Batman, being quirkless and using equipment and an adult. Katsuki's original design was going to be a nice person who just had no tact and was brutally honest. Apparently, that original design for Izuku was believed that it would cause him to fade into the background according to Horikoshi's editors, and Katsuki's original design was considered too freaking boring according to Horikoshi himself. And yet fast forward to the current events of the manga where... I genuinely don't even know what Izuku's personality is any more because all his idea of strategy is basically gone, it's just basically 'unleash overwhelming power', and he really has no character outside of being a vessel for the Protag Powers. And then you have Katsuki, who jobs constantly, the entire story basically feels like he was intended to be the original protagonist with how often he's shoved into everything and is just sucked off despite his jobbing as if he's more important to the plot than anyone else. Like fuck, Katsuki is literally listed as being an abusive egotist in the guidebook, and Kirishima has an entire thing in his backstory about being the victim of bullying yet he's completely okay with Katsuki, a character who is actively hostile to everyone and is abrasive AT BEST. Like I get they're high schoolers (which I genuinely don't understand with how they act considering high schoolers were more intelligent than this for me growing up) but fuck Horikoshi's writing makes fucking everyone so god damn stupid the moment Katsuki is involved. Anyway, I needed to vent after I was catching up on World Trigger and realising 'yeah I actually enjoy this arc because we have character personality conflicts and the individuals have to work them out because they're stuck together for a week. Oh and they actually talk to each other and you know, HAVE FUCKING BRAINS, and actively try and work on these flaws that are coming up', and getting incredibly mad that the entire character writing into MHA at this point is basically SMASH THIS NO STRATEGY and personally I blame the story constantly sucking off Bakugou who's supposed intelligence just feels informed and contrived because of his behaviour. Intelligent strategist but incredibly socially dumb my god. And he's so socially dumb he subtracts from everyone else's intelligence to get him to suck him off. I genuinely do not understand why the Bakusquad exists considering the personality conflicts there, especially with Kaminari outright stating his personality was raw sewage at one point early on and yet we're supposed to believe that Bakugou has grown and atoned as a person whilst still being a rabid dumbass who gets his ass kicked.

That’s an interesting point. A majority of Katsuki’s fights, the ones where he wins, are against fellow heroes in training. In terms of villains, he’s only ever fought Tomura, Nine, the canon fodder in the USJ, and the minions in the movies (with help).

I agree with what you said about Proto Katsuki in that he would’ve been far more interesting, or at least far more tolerable. I’d rather have a boring character than an outright terrible one. Like you mentioned before, everyone who interacts with Katsuki is made 100% dumber and is forced to neglect key components of their character just so that Hori can wank off his fave and push this “he has potential and is strong” narrative. I also agree that unfortunately it does feel like Izuku’s been reduced to “punch everything with a lot of force” rather than the creative fighter he was before. There was a really great analysis I just read that explains this. I blame it on Hori trying to wrap up his story as quickly as he can.

This is the analysis in question btw:

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #mha critical

[tchaikovsgay]

I got Gideon the Ninth part 6: chapters 26 - 31

I’m sorry, how the fuck have Palamedes and Harrow both missed that Corona clearly has no necro ability? Like come on. She was acting weird at the Sixth/Second duel. Ianthe literally said “necromancer” singular to Gideon in the hallway. I know I was spoiled on this one but I honestly think I would have been suspicious regardless, it feels like one of the more obvious mysteries.

I adore how Gideon’s words are sometimes put in parentheses when she gets completely talked over, it’s hilarious and effective.

Oh no the girls are fightiiiiing

28 chapters in and I still cannot remember whether Colum is the cavalier or the necromancer. Eighth House is just not compelling enough for me to stick in my brain. I THINK I’ve been spoilered on the thing with all those dead babies, we’ll see.

Why isn’t Corona just Ianthe’s cavalier? They’ve got a … strong … bond, Corona’s big and clearly likes to fight and would probably be good at it. I think they know something bad always happens to cavs, so they’re keeping nobody-likes-you Naberius around as fodder.

Ohhh no there’s a severed head.

Okay so two options: Harrow actually has been killing people, or somebody’s framing her. She might just be ruthless enough to do it, but again – how did she pull off killing the Fifth while simultaneously doing the bone monster trial with Gideon? The timing for Jeannemary’s death doesn’t quite track either. I think if it is actually her and not some random-ass ghost wandering around trying to frame her, she’s being possessed or her magic is going out-of-control in some way.

Also why would she keep the dude’s head around, that makes no fucking sense. Just throw that thing in the ocean or melt it with bone powers, it would be the easiest thing ever to get rid of.

I don’t even know what to say about the dead parent trauma. I kinda figured Gideon had SOMETHING to do with it. These two have been so traumatized and tied up with each other for so long :(

I was RIGHT about Pro being a construct, OH MY GOD

dude ive read gtn three times and still cant tell you whos who between silas and collum. and ooooooh boy howdy do i have thoughts on corona as ianthe's cavalier

#gideon the ninth

[incarnateirony]

genuinely funny watching antis like Vinnie swirl the toilet on curious cat. "You don't think they'll pander to THOSE PEOPLE"

"No, I do not think they will pander to THOSE PEOPLE!"

well first of all, Vinnie, you just don't think. you never have. you compulsively hate-react.

so of course you're not going to suddenly apply the brain matter the universe gave you to recognize what's happening here.

you're right.

they're not going to pander to us.

The story is FOR us.

They might pander to YOU. Throw a bone or two on the way.

But it's not pandering to develop a series for your largest demographic, sorry sweetheart.

again. believe it or not is up to you. if you want to miserably scream all the way down the same hellhole when you denied the market testing and denied the confession was happening or denied the omissions or denied the original ending contents, or you and wiki even on PAYROLL fucking up about the script because mine was newer and you cried fake, we can repeat this fucking rodeo. like it never seems to click with you guys that when I say this shit, it's not because I want it, it's because it's what's happening or happened. Like there's some real object permanence issues with all of you guys.

just like 2p0 forgot he claimed this wasn't about dean's evolution learning from his parents only to jackassedly tweet that a blatantly named episode is about learning from your parents. No shit, sherlock?

Your previous covid butchered finale was never intended, never wanted, and is a mortal embarassment to the crew. It's not hard to take the skeleton it was and actually put substance on it. And that substance is what has you all shitting your pants, because you know, you just want to convince yourselves and each other that you still have a reason to be here. Because if you don't, everyone that's warned you for the last 5 years that you're money wasting hated cunts has been correct there, like about everything else.

But deep down you even know that. Because y'all celebrated and thanked covid for fucking the finale. You're just trying to neuralyze that out to feel enduringly relevant. Covid's over sweetie.(well, effectively. functional sets are working just fine, sparing a few weird exceptions that keep shutting down--) We're finishing it now. And this version gets a full series instead of an episode. Thanks for that, covid!

again. *you* might get pandering bones, but this show is *for* us, by us, get it through your thick heads. And while you're drilling through that titanium low volume shell, reach in there and plant in some acceptance that Jensen is included in Us.

Us includes the tarot and pagans you hate that are being hired and collaborating with set coordinators to design it to the exact alchemy on my blog for years; the graded lodge members arranging rare layouts you'll never understand, but we do. Us includes the gay rebels that are here to burn it down in rainbows, the creole people that are happy to piss off shrill white culture cunts while dancing in feathers, tits out if it offends you; Us includes the writers, Us includes the crew, the majority fandom, it's Us. Not you. You're not the people this is being given back to.

Catch a clue from jib and marketing and rainbow heads and whatever the fuck else, jackasses

they hate you, i'm not kidding, they literally hate you. the only thing they like you for is your money. this isn't fuckin parasocial, it's not a fucking assumption. It's not me playing connect the dots. It is me telling you to your face that they fucking hate you, whether you accept it or not.

"Hate" may be a bit strong, make you even feel like you have power. but it's an apathetic hatred. The kind you wad up and throw in the trash and move on. The kind you shove down your garbage disposal and move on from. you're the gnat infested fruit. so will you get it over with and go instead of swirling the drain and giving jensen even more fodder from your monitored feed to piss you off with?

this entire thing is even taking a highlighter over the cosmogenics that blows your bad soulmates interpretation out of the water, but you're not smart enough to figure out how yet. This. entire. thing. you're going to hate it 100x worse vinnie than you hated late Supernatural. I promise you.

honestly [checks notes] weird it's almost like this was written specifically to piss certain people off and destroy their bad talking points by closing canon in on them. wild. wonder who would do that or had enough thumbs in fandom to figure out what bad talking points needed sniped.

like. it's so wild. from where it's going with the grand big moments that will set Vinnie's head on fire to this just meticulously dismantling all the bad talking points in heller fandom i criticise. amazing. wild how that's working out. like where extreme cas and dean stans spun john around into headcanon extremes against each other, and weaponized that shit instead of acknowledging the generational trauma story echoing through cas and dean at the end--allllll those videos i had and all the hate i got from hellers too and here we are--... WOW!!! ...must have a lucky charm huh

Your lone hero is Robert Singer, the one motherfucker Jensen magically opted to NOT bring back. His retaliation against Dabb and Berens' method of using his own laziness and absence against him and overwriting him and Eugenie caught by covid managed to stamp it out under covid, but guess what. we have a different production house now, assholes. it's not his game and there's nobody to even appeal to above Jensen beyond the CEO. And everybody's pissed.

now sit down and enjoy your gay ass deep dish overwatched by DC execs like Glen Winter and Renee Reiff, head of the gay asses telling you to sit down at DC and Marvel before here.

y'all really think this man built this whole all powerful Out In Hollywood featured fuckin production company and build up all this shit even with open rainbow marketing accountable on main just to rug pull people, because you guys are such nasty incompetent people you would do something like that, but jensen isn't gonna career suicide to make a bunch of weirdos that might sexually exploit their own kids on a weird corner of twitter happy.

Checkmate, bitches.

i told you like a month ago

it's over. it's well past stopping. deal with it and

#had to add bc goddamn #do you guys get it yet #genuinely lmao #2p0 blease add it up #i told you this is above your paygrade #jules paygrade #buddy #you guys think this is just robbie's revenge? #oh boy

[mortar-canyon]

One of my favorite things to do with casual shipping is to make things as inconvenient as possible. This has resulted in me accidentally getting attached to joke ships - ie, Silvourget or Zorow - but it's also really fun with, like, platonic ships

So consider: platonic Shadally, with the express purpose of getting Maximilian to stop bitching about who Sally "should" marry. It starts as a petty way of telling her dad to fuck off and ends as a Black Arms medical revolution

Let's say, this is a mix of pre- and post-SGW. Maybe she and Sonic broke up at some point - on good terms, of course; they're close friends regardless and he still plays an active part in protecting the Acorn Kingdom - so now Sally is dating Nicole. The problem is, her dad is still a dick and cares more about the Acorn family line than his daughter's actual well-being, so he keeps pushing her to go find some nice, distinguished, non-hologram dude, bc she needs an heir and all that bullshit

Shadow, meanwhile, has just been introduced to the world of "people who get way too comfortable prying into celebrities' personal lives", as well as (bc the whole Eclipse thing made me very sad and they all deserve better) taking the crown as King of the Black Arms; he has no idea what he's doing, but now there's all these hurt, confused people with blood on their hands who have a free wireless connection into his brain, and he's doing his best to help them even though he didn't do well with social interaction before people could read his mind

Sonic hears them both talking about how bad everything sucks lately and gets the idea to set them up so they can solve eachother's problems. Sally's good at diplomacy, crisis management, leadership, and civic planning; Shadow is... Shadow. Famous, intimidating, and a marvel of modern science, give or take a few massive breaches of medical ethics. Plus, although people are still reasonably scared of the Black Arms, they're also aware that these aliens are incredibly strong and loyal to the end, so, allying themselves with a power like the Acorn Kingdom would do wonders for their reputation. It's a win-win! Max gets his respectable son-in-law, the Black Arms get a safe place to recover, and the Acorn Kingdom gets both a new army and a terrifying, unkillable Chaos-wielder to defend it.

This is all fine and dandy, right up until Max finds out that no heirs are going to come of this arrangement. Even if Shadow and Sally were genuinely interested in each other - which, hey, if you want to take it in a romantic direction, that path's still available, Mobian "pack" culture is very open to polyamory - Shadow is physically incapable of having a child. Like, genetically, instinctually, Ken Doll-y, it ain't happening... Unless, they open up a lab to sort of splice things together, like Gerald did back in the day but with less GUN meddling and/or demonic deals involved.

Which, as soon as that project is completed, means the staff can begin working on more important things, like figuring out how to undo some of the damage Black Doom did to the Black Arms' genome in the process of reshaping them into perfect, unquestioning cannon fodder. There's a ton of work to be done on setting up regulations for that project, largely because that's a lot of power for anyone to have over a population and they need to ensure this technology is used responsibly and with the Black Arms' active approval and consent, but... It can be done.

What about restoring their complex taste buds so they can once again tell the difference between food they like, food they hate, food that's just kinda mush but is good for them, and actual poison? Or, redirecting certain nutrients back to things like pigment production for the iridescent scales they used to have instead of just bulking them up with unreasonable amounts of muscle and plating? Maybe gradually rewiring their pain receptors so they can tell when they're hurt and ask for help again, rather than powering through because back in the day there was no help available? Hell, in the next few generations, they might not even have to deal with all that sleeper agent programming! That's a pretty big deal!

There is a lot that could go wrong, absolutely... But that's why Shadow's there, and why Sally is backing him up. If anyone even thinks about trying to use this against the Black Arms, or anyone else they think needs unwanted "alterations", they will have the entire goddamn Knothole Alliance on their ass. And the nice thing is, Shadow can't die, so even after a hundred years, when the rest of the squad has all been laid to rest, he will still be there to keep their goal alive.

All of that because Sally is the queen of malicious compliance.

#idk how to tag this. uhhhhh #archie sonic #shadally #platonic shadally #sally acorn #shadow the hedgehog #king shadow #echoes in the canyon txt

[shanopng]

In this world there’s good shows and there’s bad shows, there’s many shades in between. New Mobile Report Gundam Wing is none of that.

If this is a good show. (the axes mean nothing and ignore the limited nature of the visual metaphor, art is a lot more nuanced than this)

And this is a bad show.

This is Gundam Wing.

The core of the shows is alright at worse, but there’s some elements that just suck really bad, and a few that are way better but don’t make up for the rest.

The music. The OPs and EDs are really good (all of them), lots of great background tracks too. (The Boy Who Stole the Wings of Adolescence is great)

The costume designs. The design of the costumes is the single greatest thing about the whole show.

The mechanical designs. The designs of the grunt suits are just great, Leo, Aries, Tallgeese, and later the Serpent are all great designs.

Now for the bad:

The characters. Except for Duo who’s a funny guy there’s really not much to the main cast. Wu Fei’s got 3 things going on: Nataku good, people who fight bad. I’m not worthy of piloting Nataku. Trowa does have a character arc with the whole circus and amnesia things, EW does add a bit to his character but I don’t know if I care much for that. Quatre has the his relationship to the Maganac corps and 3 lines about his family and is imo the least likeable of the main cast with Wu Fei. Heero like to blow his gundam up mostly, the whole shtick about wanting to kill Relena is the most interesting thing going on about him, especially when it comes to Relena becoming queen.

The Gundams are lame. Gundams are cool, but Gundam Wings didn’t think they were cool enough, so it tried too hard and make them lame. I’m not a big fan of hyper-specialised Gundam, but Gundam X did that worse. They’re also way too powerful for the show’s own good. I don't think there's much fun to seeing Heero vaporize a dozen Leo in 1 buster rifle shot in all that often. The episode in 0079 where Zeon Solders on Wappa placed bomb on the Gundam had weight to it. Now someone is trying to blow the sandrock up, why should I care it won't even get scratch. It just eleminates any stakes for the sake of "wow look at the gundam it's so powerful". It’s not like there’s no instance of the show depicting the suits as strong but not overpowered.

But then it’s back to this immediately after.

And finally the ???

The Mobile Dolls. It’s an interesting concept, they show even exploits that concept in interesting ways, until they’re put into mass production and now they’re just cannon-fodder free of any human tragedy and they’re as uninteresting as could be

The plot. I think there’s interesting ideas in there, the early episodes reflect the Zabi’s (mostly implied at the time) rise to power, and that’s genuienly really cool, later events feel like they’re inspired by events of previous show while it adds some unique context around it, and the end is just Zech’s Counterattack. But the end results is just so muddled, so much so that I still haven’t managed to wrap my brain around it. Too many backstabbings / episode.

1st episode. It’s really cool, for the above mentioned reason, but also because it’s just a really well made episode, and then the Gundam shows up and do the things Gundams do in Gundam Wing

Now Endless Waltz

a.k.a “Actually operation Meteor was eeeeeevil” the movie. And it feels very inconsequential

The whole thing about operation meteor is cool but I wonder if it wouldn’t have been more interesting in the show.

At the end of the day I didn’t hate watching Wing, I had a decent time even. I don’t regret watching it either after putting it off for a certain amount of time, but I’d have been just fine not having watched it, I don’t feel like I missed on anything all that time.

#Gundam Wing #Endless Waltz #Mobile Suit Gundam Wing #New Mobile Report Gundam Wing #New Mobile Report Gundam Wing Endless Waltz Special Edition

[the-official-account]

Lush's instant ramen adventure #5: nongshim shin gold with chicken broth

Let see if she's can beat nongshim Gourmet spicy

Note: I started this and wrote most of the initial impressions a week or two ago. It's been completed the day of posting

The cooking instructions for this ramen are the same as Gourmet Spicy, except it has an extra soup base packet for the chicken base. Upon opening this I was strict by how much better it smells than maruchan chicken ramen, richer and fuller and like actual roast chicken, with maybe some celery salt. The flakes in this package are also different than the gourmet spicy. They look to be dried garlic slices and maybe egg or chicken? I can't really tell. Something yellowish and puffy. You can see the flakes and both soup bases in the image below

And here's the finished ramen

In my opinion, the athletically pretties so far! I immediately tried one of the yellow flakes, and it DOES seem to be egg. And also fucking delicious. In hungry and it smells incredible. Me and this bowl are going to need some alone time now...

The noodles look golden and appetizing, though they do give more of a throat punch when eaten. I'd say the spice sits more between the hard and soft pallete than it does on the tongue, which I don't find very pleasant. However, it's maybe medium spicy. There are definitely tears, though I don't think they'll fall. The spice does take away a bit from the other flavors for me. Not a favorite. I might review this again with half the spice packet. The more my mother gets used to the spice, the more other flavors come through. It's still too much in the lips for my preference, but not bad, and I'm quite enjoying these.

In the following week I did eat these with half the spice packet and I can say there wasn't really a noticable difference in the amount of spice except that I coughed less. While not an ideal spicy ramen in my brain, I did enjoy these and eat them all! (Unlike the Bulbak corn flavored ramen, which are becoming fodder for peanut noodles)

Personally I'd rate them a solid 7.5/10, one of the best ramen I've tried in the ramen adventure so far, but not the best ever.

As for what the internet has to say, these noods are hardly available on Amazon, with one wordless 3 star rating, and it's got no reviews on umami cart. The lack of strong opinions either way resonates with me. The noodles are decent!

#lush's instant ramem adventure #lush chats

[chiwhorei]

Honeypot

Pairing: Jiraiya x Virgin!reader; Naruto

Genre: NSFW, 18+ MDNI

This piece is part of the Cummunity’s Tender Taboo Collab, go check out all of the other pieces in this masterlist <3333

Tags: fem!reader, virgin!reader, age gap (readers age is not specified but is over 18), corruption, slight dacryphilia, size kink, pain kink, sloppy oral, body worship, mentions/imagery of non/dubcon, it’s a little bit melancholy but not angsty

Word Count: 1,891 [cross-posted to Ao3]

From.Chiwhorei: god i forget how to fucking format this shit HI HELLO I HAVE BUGS IN MY BRAIN AND ALL I DO IS THINK ABOUT JIRAIYA. If you’ve had the misfortune of speaking to me recently, you know this already. If you’re here for content from a fandom that’s not been dead for years— i don’t really know what to tell you. If you’re here for old men fuckery, you win and you are correct. I had lovely fwiends read this over for me and hype me up to post again, thank you so much @titan-fodder @lady-lauren and @whats-her-quirk i am ever grateful for you.<33

It’s hard, so hard, to keep his eyes on you.

Steamy black threatens to roll right through the back of his skull. He’s got to keep his composure, steady the shaking intake of breath at every shy bob of your head. What you lack in experience, you sure make up for in enthusiasm.

Your lips stretch far past their limit, curling inward to hug tightly around his thick shaft.

“Fuck.”

Jiraiya doesn’t want to miss a second of this, of you, but every whisper of contact your lips promise is enough to drive any man to insanity.

“Am- am I doing okay?” You pull those precious lips away from him, eyes jumping between his and the weeping cock in your hands.

God, Jiraiya thinks to himself, a small laugh bubbling from his chest, it feels like I’m eighteen again.

“Do you want me to stop?” Your voice wobbles, hanging off the sticky string that still connects your bodies.

“Oh baby,” There’s a small pang in his chest, a little thrum of guilt for making you doubt anything other than complete adoration.

Jiraiya pulls you up, strong hands help steady you across his lap. One long finger inches up and down your spine, the cool touch sends a shiver down each vertebrae.

He trails your skin, mapping your body with a warm sense of comfort. The silence is calm, balmy like the unusually mild January air just outside the window. It melts you, your nerves, your insecurities, until you're nothing but honest.

“I just don’t,” you trail off again, letting your head fall into his chest, “I don’t know as much as other girls you’ve been with. I want to make you feel good.”

Jiraiya is positive he’s blacked out and entered a dream state. That must be where you’re from, a dream, a hallucination. Maybe he’s lying on war-scorched earth and you’re tempting him towards the lull of death. He’d swim right into the underbelly of hell if the promise of barely there cotton and soft young skin awaits him. The promise of Persephone waiting just past the darkness.

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, positive that what stares back at him is reality, only because there’s nothing this sweet waiting on the other side for a man like him.

You’re so—he pulls at the tiny strap of your top, silken fabric falling down to your elbows—so fragile in this new adulthood. If he’s not careful— he’ll consume you without savoring the taste.

That’s what boys your age would do, Jiraiya reasons, they would waste you. What kind of man would he be if he let that happen?

No, you deserve the best. Decades of experience, years of practice; what you deserve, what you need is—

“Please,” your words press firmly to his bare chest, “t-teach me how.”

Jiraiya tugs you at the waist, grinding your panties against his bare cock. His pointer fingers twirl around the elastic, pulling you ever closer and softly pushing you back again. You search for his mouth to spill whimpers into, he can taste the precum on your lips mixed with the hint of subtle cherry. You taste sweet, so sweet it could rot if he isn’t careful. A nice juicy piece of fruit he’s picked at the perfect time.

Your clothed pussy drags against him slowly, the hesitant circles of your hips are disorienting. Jiraiya can feel you finding a rhythm, figuring out what feels good.

He wants to help you, to teach you everything that you don’t yet know you like. And maybe you’ll thank him by letting him rip you apart, swallow back drowning tears as canines pull at your young, supple skin. It’ll feel good, he’ll promise you as he licks up your tears.

There’s very little keeping Jiraiya earthbound. He grips your hips tighter, pulling your weeping cunt further on his lap and sliding it down the length of his cock. He catches your clit against the thick base and you grind into him hard. You chase the prominent veins, tracing them in painful detail.

Your skin is hot enough to burn, tacky with sweat as you work against him. He watches as you teeter on the edge of something so foreign, so terrifyingly new.

“I- I feel, this feels so g-good.”

The way you babble does nothing to quell Jiraiya’s ego. Another few strokes and you’ll be done for—falling head first into orgasm with only him to catch you. You're so wet, the littlest adjustment of your hips and his reddening tip could split you open.

Would you scream out, tears filling up your lashes and falling to sear his skin? Would you beg him to stop, plead that it’s too much?

Or, would you take him?

He can picture it clearly, the stride of your movements painting the perfect, depraved picture. Stealing you, taking your precious cunt with one quick pump. Watching you choke on the pain, feeling so unbearably full.

“Please, please.” You’ll beg him, but even you aren’t sure if you're begging for less or more.

Maybe pain is what you were looking for all along, and you’ll welcome the ache in your sloppy cunt like an old friend.

You’ll know no other words, lips only able to form weak, “Please, please, please’s,”

He’ll fuck into you deeper with every cry, setting brutal pace with your begging. He can almost feel it, the tight rings of muscle as they suck him in, the shattering exhale of breath as you try to relax around him.

“I’m okay, I can take it.” You’ll promise him and it’ll almost sound convincing.

Whether or not you can matters less and less; as your hips fall farther down, you will. You’ll take it all, inch by suffocating inch until—

“I’m- I feel like I’m going to-“

Jiraiya’s breath hits his lungs like he’s been drowning, you pull him back above water with a whimper he’s all too familiar with. Only a moment more, one long drag of your clit along his cock and you’ll shatter like crystal.

“Such an eager little thing, aren’t ya, kid?”

Confusion washes over you, hitting the places your climax didn’t as Jiraiya halts your movements. The abrupt change paints a hot flush onto your face and neck, he can feel it simmering under the skin.

It’s vile, he thinks as he tries not to crack a shit-eating grin, how the wobble of tears in your waterline could make him cum right here and now.

“I just couldn’t live a moment longer,” he whispers into an otherwise empty room, but those same quiet words echo as they meet your ears, “without you cumming on my tongue.”

He’s no villain, far from it, it’s not the crestfallen look in your eye that fills your tears with so much lust. It’s that he gets to wipe them away.

He hushes you, cooing away your sweet frown as he loops strong arms around your waist. Jiraiya stands up, holding you with the same exerted effort as grabbing a bottle of sake. No matter the size, the shape, naked skin is weightless in his hold.

He allows himself only a beat to savor the feeling of you folded in his arms, stolen away from the outside world you’ve hardly even seen.

Jiraiya wishes this feeling could be a home, your tilting, disorienting laugh the walls and roof he returns to— but he’s only a part time thief.

He lets you fall into a pile of soft sheets, standing tall over you. The cast of candlelit shadow washes over your skin, softening around every curve. This sight is what wars are fought over.

The attack starts with a captured ankle, Jiraiya lays traps against your skin in quick, biting succession. He drags lips and tongue up your legs, groaning deeply at the whipmers he elicits from every kiss.

“These thighs might just put me into an early grave, kid.” Jiraiya’s voice tickles ever closer to your cunt, his view now framed with a fresh path of goosebumps.

There’s no reason to wait, it’s only a sick game of keepaway that he’s playing with himself. Maybe he’ll chalk it up to a test of his will, maybe he’s already sugar-high, delirious.

Maybe he knows that there’s an inevitable end to the nights like these, and the honeypot between your legs doesn’t belong to him. There’s no way to savor you forever, there’s no running away from the break of dawn.

Jiraiya drags his tongue in a sharp, flat line against your weeping pussy, curling up to flick your clit. The sweet taste threatens to make an addict out of a sage.

Jiraiya can read you like your published, a story far more beautiful than he’ll write. You're holding on to the last remnants of coherence, falling out of grasp with each lashing. He’s so sloppy, so loud. He hopes you don’t mind— never kicked the habit of eating with his mouth open.

“O-oh, my God.” It doesn’t sound like you have any objections.

“Ya know,” he pulls back to look at you, keeping your clit company with the rough pad of his thumb, “I’m used to ‘Master,’ but that’s got a good ring to it.”

There it is, a lilting laugh that pulls a smile across his face as soon as it hits his ears.

Beautiful. Unfairly, terrifyingly beautiful.

You’re making yourself a home in the empty hole in the middle of his chest, a place so deep he won’t be able to claw you out come morning. Maybe he won’t even try to.

Jiraiya pushes the tinny feeling of guilt into his cheeks, spitting it against your messy little hole. Your reaction is almost intravenous, running under your skin like a virus and arching your spine. He can almost hear it crack.

He might be a nasty old fucker, but when your hands reach down to tangle into long white hair, begging for more of the mouth that knows you better than yourself, God.

He feels eighteen again.

Jiraiya kisses you, open mouthed and deep, begging you with a wordless plea, begging for you to fall— fall for him.

He’ll settle for the crash, the hard, inevitable crash that his lips will bring you to. The feeling of a first time isn’t something he’ll ever get tired of.

You cry out, louder than he deserves, as you twitch in his grasp. Jiraiya’s hands hold your legs apart with little effort, a front row seat, a private show.

“That’s my good girl.” He kisses the words right onto your clit, knowing it’ll steal the little intake of breath you try to steady.

Jiraiya leans back, kneeling in front of your twisted limbs, his long cock hangs in between toned thighs, his own lull of bliss comes over him as he watches you recover. The decent, it’s almost as sweet as the incline.

You catch him by surprise, shooting up from the bed like it’s made of hot coals. Worry is replaced quickly as your lips quirk into a smile, the whiplash could kill him, he’d die happy. Or maybe he already has.

“More, I want more. Please.”

Jiraiya’s not sure, but if he wakes up come morning and you weren’t a dying man’s dream, he’ll steal you as his home.

He’s sure of it, you’ll let him.

** ** **

✞ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞: All writing is chiwhorei’s original content, please do not repost or modify. Do no read my content as asmr. Do not recommend me on TikTok.©️

#jiraiya smut #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya x reader smut #naruto shippuden smut #naruto shippuden x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: age gap

[karikarasuno]

I Wanna Be Alone With You

Pairing: Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Smut 18+ only, Unprotected Sex, A Quickie, Trying to Keep Quiet, Exhibitionism Adjacent

Word Count: 3.3k

a/n: ahhh, banged out this collab piece in record time, don’t even know how i did it. but it’s here and i did it. this is just porn, very little plot, but hopefully it’s realistic and fun. thank you, @spacelabrathor and @titan-fodder​, for hosting this collab and giving all of us opportunity to live out our realistic fantasies. you two are fantastic and i love you dearly. here is the masterlist for the better than fiction collab, and i hope you all enjoy what everyone comes up with because i know i will <3. another big thank you to @thegetoufather for being my beta, i love you too, you are the best. 

“What are you staring at?” You asked, removing the last pin from your hair and watching the curl fall in front of your face with a gentle bounce. Atsumu leaned against the doorframe, unbuttoning the cuffs of his dress shirt and staring straight at you. His gaze was playful and you knew all too well where his thoughts were leading him. 

“What?” he started, hands now moving to pop open the buttons of his shirt to reveal the dusting of hair across his muscular chest. “Can’t stare at my wife?”

“I’m not your wife,” you responded, mainly to bait him, just to see the glimmer of mischief in his eyes. You removed the backing of your earrings and placed them in the jewelry box on the bathroom counter, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. 

He walked towards you, strong arms framing your waist as he rested them on the counter. He reached for your wrist, long fingers tickling your palm and finding their way to your ring finger. “Yet,” he whispered, twirling the delicate diamond around your finger before bringing it to his lips and kissing your hand. 

You smiled at him in the mirror, kissing his cheek before lightly pushing him off of you so you could continue changing. He let out a disgruntled noise of disapproval, arms circling your waist and squeezing you to his body. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling the smell of the perfume that still lingered on your skin and sighing.

“I miss ya,” he said into your skin, eyes opening to look at you through the mirror. You rolled your eyes teasingly, resting your hands on his forearms and letting your head fall to lay on his. He’d been clingy all week, the weight of his family in town, right down the hall of your room finally registering in his brain. He loved them and you knew that, but they’d been here for two weeks now. And with the wedding in one more, all of you were running around trying to finalize all the little bits of detail. Osamu offered to cater and you were thankful for the family discount since all of Atsumu’s taste tended to err on the pricier side. But the house was feeling too full. 

You had just gotten back from tasting some dinner options from the restaurant and all you wanted to do was get into bed and sleep off all the food. But you couldn’t, having promised his mom that you would meet her downstairs to work on the last few centerpieces you had left. Your days were booked and busy to say the least. So you understood Atsumu’s touchiness and by extension, yearniness. 

“One more week and I’m all yours, ‘tsumu,” you said, trying one more time to remove him from your body and get out of your dinner outfit. But he wouldn’t budge, instead strengthening his grip and nuzzling further into your neck. 

“But I want ya now, sweetheart,” he mouthed into your neck, hands moving to grip at your hips and wrinkle up the fabric of your dress. He was silently asking for permission to lift up the hem, ghosting fingertips over your thighs. 

“We can’t,” you breathed, head lolling to the side as he kissed up your neck. He dragged his hips over your ass, his hardening cock already felt between the layers of constrictive fabric. “I gotta meet your mom downstairs soon.”

You tried to reason, moreso with yourself than with him. His mind long made up when his hands felt up your torso and cupped your breasts over your clothing. It had been too long, two weeks too long, since you’ve had your way with each other. A build up of missed opportunities and interruptions, enough to drive you both to the brink of insanity when all you wanted was simple relief. 

“It’ll be quick,” he promised, hot breath against the shell of your ear, goosebumps erupting across your skin. It was hard to argue when you wanted him as much as he’s been showing you. His hand was never not on you, settled on the small of your back, circling your wrist and intertwining your fingers. Or even bolder, resting on your thigh beneath the table all night. Knowing fingers lighting tiny fires as he absentmindedly rubbed the inside of your thigh, smirking at you every time you fidgeted in your seat, thighs squishing together when he dared inch them further up. 

“You say that, but I don’t trust you enough to make it quick,” you said, hands gripping the edge of the counter, hopelessly rigid as he gathered you in his arms again. 

“Ya won’t know unless we try, hm?” He replied, lifting you from your spot in front of the mirror and out into your bedroom. He shuffled quickly to the bed, nearly tripping over the heels you left on the ground and huffing when all you could do was squeal and laugh at him. He tossed you face first into the mattress, your legs dangling from the edge in what you could only imagine was incredibly unflattering. You were about to turn and scold him, lifting your body onto your elbows when he pulled you to the edge by your hips. 

“Atsumu,” you reprimanded, swatting his hands away and narrowing your eyes at him playfully as he tried to undo the zipper of your dress. He shrugged dismissively, eyes humorous when you didn’t move to stop him. 

“Stop fighting me, we gotta be quick, remember?” He teased, helping you sit up so that your dress puddled around your waist, his urgent hands removing it the rest of the way. The desperation was beginning to cloud your senses, flipping yourself on the mattress so that you were kneeling in front of him, your fingers shaking as you unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way. His lips were on your neck again, suctioning there while you frantically moved to his belt, the cool metal soothing your heated hands. He was a mess of half on clothes, his pants settled right beneath his ass, shirt collar stuck on his broad shoulders as he continued to lick down your throat. You pushed him when he bit down, hard enough to leave a mark. 

“If you give me a hickey before our wedding day, I’ll never forgive you,” you said as you held him at arm’s length. He smiled, almost drunkenly as he finally allowed his eyes to gaze over your almost naked body. He bit into his reddened lip this time, hands gripping your waist before diving down to lift you by the fat of your ass. 

“Just let me have my way with ya,” he chuckled, dropping you on your back so he could finish removing whatever clothing he had left. He crawled over you, thick arms caging you beneath him as he took a second to stare at you. His eyes were soft – lovestruck – as he memorized the pout of your lips, bringing a hand up to drag his thumb against your bottom lip. “I always make it worth it, don’t I?”

The answer you had on the tip of your tongue was swallowed by his lips, lost to the taste of his tongue and the notes of red wine still lingering there. He was annoyingly distracting and even more persuasive when the motion of his kiss was paired with the rough calluses of his fingertips slipping beneath your underwear – the thin lace giving way to him easier than you’d want it to. 

“We don’t have all night,” you said, pathetically breathless against his lips as his skilled fingers worked you open. It wasn’t too surprising that you were so wet, his fingers making sick suction sounds with every flick of his wrist. He only laughed in return, his cheeks burning red from the rise in his body temperature. 

“How long do we realistically have?” He asked, sitting up to slide your panties down your legs. His hands massaged your thighs, his cock hard and glistening with precome already between his own legs. He bent forward, fully intent on burying his face in your cunt. Which under normal circumstances would have you writhing against the sheets, nearly begging for the feel of his tongue between your folds.

“Not enough for that,” you said instead, grabbing him by his hair, your fingers tugging him up your body. “Realistically? 15 minutes at most.”

“I can totally work with that,” he said, a smirk plastered across his lips as he lined himself up with your entrance. He thrusted forward, cock seating deep inside of you all at once. His hand immediately rose to cover your mouth, the moan he tore from you muffled into his palm. His rhythm was slower than usual, the springs in the mattress louder than either of you remembered it being. He angled his hips, searching for the spot that had you arching off the mattress. 

Every thrust was purposeful. It had the air knocking from your lungs with the force and the vague sound of the creaking bed frame had your heart rate skyrocketing from the idea of getting caught. You reached for the headboard to pull it away from the wall, Atsumu completely lost in the sight of your cunt swallowing him – his cock soaked in your slick– to notice. 

With your other hand you ripped his from covering your mouth, rushing out a desperate warning, “Tsumu, the bed.” 

“Yer close, I can feel it, just,” he propped himself up with one arm, using the other to slip between your joined bodies to find your clit. You jerked from the pressure he applied, his thumb working in sloppy circles, thrusts remaining deep and calculated. You held the headboard even further away from the wall, fear spiking, but driving you closer to your release. Your hands were getting sweaty, the rush of the situation making you lightheaded with pleasure as his movements didn’t cease. You squeezed around him hard, your breath catching in your lungs, eyes rolling back as you came. He groaned in your ear, stopping to let you come down, holding back so that the bed didn’t make any more noise. His thighs were shaking, his nails slightly digging into your hip. 

Your lip was secured between your teeth, low whimpers falling from the small space it created. “Get in the chair.”

You pointed to the armchair at the far side of the room. It was the furthest thing from the door and least likely to give you away completely. And you reasoned that the quickest way to get him to come would be you on top. But he didn’t move, just stared at you with breathless rapture, his eyes glazed over with lust– the way they did nearly every time the two of you did something risky. 

“Atsumu,” you giggled as you wiggled from beneath him, sighing with sensitivity once his dick slipped from your entrance. He gave you a lazy smile, sliding off the edge of the mattress and plopping into the chair. He patted his thigh, draping himself across the chair, head lolling to the side with feigned patience.

Your pulse quickened with adrenaline, delirious attraction for your soon to be husband warming your body in flickers of heat. “For someone so demanding, ya sure do take yer time,” he whispered, moving his hand to stroke his erection, the other arm hanging off the back of the chair. You laughed as you hurried towards him, hands firm on his chest as you straddled his hips. 

“You think you’re so funny,” you teased, replacing his hand with yours as you pumped his dick slowly, feeling it twitch in your hand. 

“I do,” he said, the last traces of amusement disappearing from his voice as you popped his head into your cunt, the last syllable teetering into a low groan. You hummed as you sat down in his lap entirely, hands squeezing his chest while you rolled your hips. His relaxed stance immediately became rigid, his lips parting and releasing puffs of air that melted on your cheeks. 

And you began to bounce in his lap, refraining from slamming all the way down to dull the sounds of skin slapping skin. His hands found your ass, kneading the fat as he bit back moans of pleasure. His eyes were half-lidded, chest heaving with the effort of staying quiet. But he needed this, his body inching towards release quicker than you’ve ever experienced. 

“Fuck, I missed ya,” he groaned, his head tossed back over the back of the chair, eyelids shutting for a mere moment before he was watching you again. His hands began to control your movements, pushing you down harder, his hips bucking up to meet you. Your head fell forward to knock against his forward, your thighs tiring from the strain of being on top. But it didn’t stop you, you didn’t once falter, his cock rubbing against your walls with delicious satisfaction. 

“Yer gonna hafta to swallow,” he mumbled, his abdomen flexing against your lower stomach. “Don’t wanna make a mess.” 

He half chuckled, barely audible over the unmistakable sound of your ass meeting his thighs. You flinched from the noise, praying that no one decided to walk past your bedroom door at that exact moment. Your nails left a streak of red down his chest, an accidental moan slipping off your tongue and smearing onto his lips. 

Everything was frenzied, the pace quickened, the smacks of skin reverberated and echoed around the room. Your ears were ringing from a weird sense of panic, but not enough to try to calm down– not enough to stop the insistent thrusts of Atsumu’s hips into your sloppy pussy. Your slick only adding to the lewd noises your bodies created. 

“Sh-shit,” he whined against your cheek, his voice humid on your skin. “Off, off,” he urged you, hands sliding across your sweaty body as he tried to remove you from straddling his hips. 

You jumped from his lap to sink onto your knees. His hand flew to squeeze the base of his cock, trying in vain to reel in his orgasm. But he spilled onto your tongue as soon as your parted lips wrapped around his head, guiding your head down to taste the bitterness at the back of your throat. He let out a choked groan, surprised at the feeling of you swallowing around his head. His torso bent over you, one of his hands placed on the crown of your head to ground himself.

But you sucked his cock to earn the last few spurts of cum, slicing through his resolve and a ragged, high pitched moan began to bubble up his throat before you stuffed three fingers in his mouth to smother it. He gripped the arm of the chair, nails scratching the fabric as he jerked away from your hot mouth, giving him one final suck before allowing him to fall from between your lips. 

You removed your fingers from his mouth, wiping his saliva on the throw blanket that fell from the side of the chair some time during it all. He collapsed onto the chair, sinking into the cushions as he began to regain lucidity. 

“Don’t appreciate the attempt on my life just then,” he said, reaching up to pinch your side as you tried to walk away to clean up. 

“Shut up,” you swatted away his hand, leaning down to kiss him. “You’re so dramatic.” 

He laughed and rose to his feet, gathering you into his arms to squish his face into your hair. “We should shower,” he suggested, hands still groping at your naked body. 

“We don’t have time for that,” you replied, wrestling away from his grasp and backing away from him and into the closet to grab some clothes. 

“Let’s just call off the wedding,” he followed you. “We can get hitched tomorrow and we’ll have all the time in the world.”

He leaned against the closet door frame, head resting on the cool wood as he sent you a sleepy grin, motioning for you to pass him his sweats from the drawer. 

“Uh, your mother would kill us,” you said, tossing the pants at his face, his post sex state too slow to catch them in time. The fabric caught around his head, his arm extended in front of his body from his failed attempt at grabbing them. “And you would be sad that you didn’t have the wedding of your dreams.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, stepping into his pants and settling them low on his hips. “Doesn’t mean I want ya any less.”

You buried your face in one of his hoodies that you had bundled in your arms to hide your stupid, lovesick grin. He walked towards you and pulled it away from your face, tilting your chin so that you were looking straight into his eyes before he kissed you. It was sweet and soft, his sigh humming against your lips as he relaxed into you. 

“Ya should get going,” he whispered, waiting for you to shift away from him, surprised when all you did was pull him in for another. Your hand tangling in his hair and holding him with the intent of never letting him go.

You shuffled out of your bedroom, hoodie situated comfortably over your torso. Atsumu had opted for that shower, he said he would need a cold one if he was going to sit beside you for the rest of the night crafting centerpieces. It was absurdly quiet in the rest of the house, strange when you’d gotten so used to the bickering between the twins. 

But there were hushed whispers coming from the kitchen, small voices hardly rising above the sound of the air conditioning. You strode towards them, rounding the corner into the kitchen to find Osamu and his mom speaking in the corner beside a steaming tea kettle. 

“Hey,” you said, announcing your presence and subsequently making the atmosphere shift to something very awkward. Osamu jolted away from his mom, his ears pink and purposefully avoiding eye contact with you while she smiled over the edge of her very hot mug. 

“Hey,” she said, walking towards you, offering you the other mug on the counter. “You ready?” 

You grabbed the mug from her, nodding as you stepped into the dining room to find the absolute mess of twine and mason jars on the table. She had already started on a few, the pieces a mix of baby’s breath and lavender to test which flowers would look best. They really were gorgeous, her eye for floral placements making you giddily jealous. 

“These are amazing,” you said, sitting across from her at the table to start on one of your own. And you were measuring the length of each piece of twine when she asked, “you excited for the big day?” 

“Mhm, can’t believe it’s only a week away, and then the honeymoon is only a few days after,” you said, cutting each measured piece and adding them into a pile. 

“Everything seems to be moving so fast,” she started, sipping on her tea before continuing. “And it’s also nice knowing that we could be expecting a baby so soon after the honeymoon.” 

Osamu audibly groaned with discomfort from the kitchen. And she giggled into her mug. Heat quickly rose to your cheeks with realization, your hands rising to cover them as you hid with tingling embarrassment. 

“Ew, ma,” he mumbled, dragging his feet into the dining room. “That was unnecessary.”

You could hear the laughter she was failing to muffle, joining her with a fit of your own as Atsumu finally came from the bedroom. 

“What?” He asked, hands thrown up in question as the two of you laughed harder. “What’d I do?” 

“Just shut up and sit down,” Osamu said, throwing the ball of twine at Atsumu’s chest. “Yer so embarrassing.” 

He gave you an incredulous look before turning back to his brother, a new round of arguing bursting forth. You guessed this would be the rest of your life and it would be nothing if not entertaining. 

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