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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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Here, Kitty Kitty (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnlingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I done had this idea for YEARS & finally decided to write it. Idk how long this will be BUT I hope y’all live for some coworkers to friends to lovers type shit. Enjoy! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*************

ONE.

Briiii-iiing!

After what feels like an eternity, the bell signaling your third period and your lunch break has finally rung its joyous sound throughout the halls. You don’t even mind the way it sounds shrill to your overly-sensitive ears. But that’s the way of a cat: everything is sensitive to you. Even as a cat hybrid.

You turn to the student who has become a regular in your office, smiling kindly at him. “That’s for you, too,” you say with a wink. “I don’t think you’d wanna eat lunch with the school counselor, Katsuki.”

Katsuki Bakugou, with his intense stare and a permanent scowl that reminds you of a bulldog, grumbles as he stands and slugs his backpack over his shoulder. He turns to head out of your office without another word.

“Hey,” you say, stopping him. He looks over his shoulder expectantly. “Remember what I said: if someone says something to piss you off, just breathe. Think about what you’d be giving up if you resort to violence. You’re a very intelligent and good kid, Katsuki.”

Bakugou doesn’t reply, but you see something shift on his face. He looks taken aback at your words. But just as quickly as it came, it’s gone and he’s back to his usual cool stare. With a suck of his teeth, he’s leaving your office, slamming the door as he does.

You sit back in your seat and turn towards the window, exhaling slowly. Your view from your office showcases the gorgeous cherry blossoms that are about to bloom–they’re just pink buds right now. You sigh dreamily, so glad spring is here. Finally, you’ll be able to crack open your window to breathe in the sweet scents of blooming flowers and sun.

You remind yourself once again to thank Nezu for such a wonderful spot for your office. Not only do you have the best seat in the house for the view, but you also have your own couch for naps in between breaks and a mini fridge under your desk where you store your lunch and snacks for the kids who come in here to chat about their problems or incidents with other kids (mostly Bakugou).

“As the UA school counselor, it’s important that you’re just as comfortable as our students here!” Nezu brightly proclaimed after giving you the tour of UA on your first day at work. That was at the beginning of September. Now that it’s March, you’ve been here for six months now. You couldn’t have asked for a better job! You get paid what you weigh with your degrees, you live in an apartment on campus you don’t have to constantly dish out money for public transportation, and everyone you work alongside is so, so nice…

Well, almost everyone.

Not wanting to waste any more time before another kid comes crying into your office about their issues, you take your lunch out of your mini fridge and hurry to head off to the UA teacher breakroom, locking the office door as you do.

When you enter the cozy-looking breakroom with its mini sofas, expensive coffee machine, and sterling steel microwave, you find Nemuri and Mic already sitting at a table. Nemuri glances at the door and grins at you. “Ah, there she is!” she coos. “My favorite cat girl!” Her eyes trail over your form, humming suggestively. “And looking quite fine.”

“Absolutely,” Mic agrees as he pops some rice into his mouth. “Pink is definitely your color, Y/N.”

You flush at the sweet compliments, glad you went for a pink blouse and a nice skirt today. “Why, thank you,” you giggle as you sit next to Nemuri–your usual spot. Your trail curls around your legs, relaxed and content. “So, what’s on for the conversation today?”

“Tonight,” Nemuri replies, wiggling her brows mischievously at you. “We’re still on for tonight, right?” She grips your arm dramatically. “Please tell me we are! I’ve been needing to get my ass in my clubbing dress for months!”

“Yes, drama queen,” you laugh as you unzip your lunch bag. A bento box, a yogurt cup, and a bottle of Kombucha tea sit inside. “We’re still on. I’ve been needing to shake my ass for the one time, too.”

“And get yourself someone to take back home tonight you watch you shake your ass,” Nemuri adds. You roll your eyes while Mic laughs. “Aw, come ooon, Y/N!” she whines. “You’ll never know the thrill of bringing someone back for a hot night at your place until you try it.”

Nemuri has been trying to get you to try casual sex for the longest time after her plans for being a matchmaker fell through. When you told her you didn’t have a boyfriend during a night out after becoming fast friends, she just about fell out of her chair. “No,” she gasped into her cocktail. “A woman as gorgeous as you? There’s no way! This is a tragedy!”

And because of this “tragedy”, she took it upon herself to try and match you up with other pros she knew. So far, it’s been All Might, who was very nice but you found you liked as a friend, and Snipe, who was fine as hell behind his mask and amazing in bed, you felt like you were leading him on because of your feelings for another person. Snipe told you he understood but if things never worked out with “the other guy”, he was always there.

What Nemuri didn’t realize is that dating never seemed to work for you. It always ended in casual sex due to you being a cat girl. Most men you’d dated or slept with always seemed to want you for the cat girl they thought you to be…which was usually out of a hentai. So you steered clear from dating, feeling more than happy being single if it meant not putting up with the BS. Cat girls had a bad rep because of the shit Hollywood thought of for pornos, which meant you had to work ten times harder to get what you wanted. Including being taken seriously in a relationship.

“First of all, that’s against the rules, ‘Muri,” you sigh despite your friend’s pouting. “Nezu is against bringing any outsiders onto campus, especially in our dorms.” Nemuri and Mic glance at each other, knowing damn well they’ve broken that rule many, many times. “And two, you know I’m too busy with work to date.”

“It’s not dating though,” she protests. “It’s sex! Tell her, Mic.” The blonde pro looks between the two of you, bunching on a rice ball.

“I’m not in this,” he mumbles, making you laugh. “And the last time I bought someone to my apartment, I shattered some windows in the entire complex because I was so loud.” Your eyes widen at his confession and he flushes. “He was good, okay?”

Hysterical giggles rise to the surface in your chest, Nemuri laughing with you. “That’s hilarious,” you sigh, wiping at a tear, “and exactly why your idea is a bad one.” You poke Nemuri’s side with a fork. “Besides, you know I don’t want just anyone in my bed.”

As soon as the words are out, you realize your mistake. Your friends stare at you expectantly, leaning in as if desperate to know your deep, dark secrets. “Then who do you want, Y/N?” Nemuri purrs, raising a brow at you. Mic nods. “Yes, do tell!”

You flush, popping a piece of chicken kara-age from your bento box into your mouth to keep your mouth occupied. They both knew who you were referring to; they just wanted you to say it aloud. The truth was, you could never date just anyone because you already had feelings for another. It was stupid, really. A pathetic, schoolgirl crush because you knew he could never return them.

As if on cue, the man of the hour and your dreams walks into the room, as quiet as a church mouse. He’s so quiet that you jump, your tail fuzzing up, when you see him round the corner wearing his signature jumpsuit and scarves, hands in his pockets. He truly is an attractive man despite his tired eyes–about six foot something, a nice build, black locks of shoulder-length hair that frame his handsome face, and a five o’clock shadow.

When he glances at you as he walks in, it’s so hard to breathe suddenly. No matter how many times he looks at you, it always has the same effect on you. His stares are intense and bothersome; haunting almost. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that your skirt rises just above your knees, giving a tiny slip of thigh behind your nylon stockings.

“Aizawa!” Mic exclaims, grinning at his friend as he slinks into the room. “To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous face?”

Aizawa doesn’t spare his friend as much as a glance as he looms over the coffee machine. He grabs one of the Plus Ultra mugs above the sink and takes a pod of the dark roast. “Lunch break,” he blandly replies. “Needed coffee.”

You can’t help but watch his hands as he works to whip himself up a cup. His hands are just so big! And his fingers are so long. You wonder if he plays piano by any chance.

And if one day, he could play you by any chance. Would his hands be calloused and rough from years of hero work? Would they be gentle and careful with you? Would he know how to touch you? Would he be willing to know how, practically begging you to show him how to make you feel good?

You can picture him now, his eyes drilling a hole into you as he kneels between your thighs, his fingers plunged deep into your sobbing wet–

“Oh, Shouta!” Nemuri calls, scaring you half to death out of your nasty thoughts. She’s smirking at you while Mic silently laughs beside her. “Will you be attending our nighttime activity after school ends? We’re going to Hot Spot. You know, that one club all the pros go to?”

You flush, knowing what she’s doing. She knows damn well Aizawa isn’t going. He never goes anywhere except he’s forced to. “Of course, you are,” he mutters, tapping one finger on the counter as he waits for his coffee to finish brewing. “And no, I’m not. Don’t know why this is even a question.”

“Oh, sorry,” Nemuri sarcastically replies. “I forgot you’re anti-social and you hate anything related to socializing or people.”

Aizawa gives her an irritated glance. “Not the reason,” he growls. “It’s because I have better things to do than be in a room with a bunch of drunk people I don’t know. Like grading papers.” Once his coffee is done, he takes the mug along with one packet of sugar. No cream or anything else.

He walks to the door but glances back at his friends before he makes his grand exit. “And I’m not anti-social.”

“Sure, you’re not!” Mic yells to him once he’s gone. He then turns to you and Nemuri with a smirk. “He totally is.” You smile along with Nemuri’s laugh, but you can’t help the way your body feels from Aizawa’s presence: hot and very, very bothered.

***************

You could burn a hole into someone as you watch Nemuri giggle and charm the man trying to sweet-talk her next to you at your booth.

The man is so obviously eyeing your friend’s cleavage that she flaunts in her dress with the sweetheart neckline. This is the fourth man that’s talked to her tonight since she, you, and Mic arrived at Hot Spot an hour before.

‘Horny bastards,’ you think to yourself, though you can’t help but be jealous.

Why can’t you be more like Nemuri and just be free with your inhibitions like her? She flaunts, flirts, and fucks without care. But then again, everyone wants to fuck Ms. Midnight. Nobody even knows who you are. And you’d like to keep it that way. Plus, being a cat girl gains you unwanted attention anyway. It’s bad enough you get the occasional weirdo asking you about your tail and if you poop in a litterbox.

Mic, in his Hawaiian shirt, wraps an arm around you. “What are you doing later?” he asks you playfully. You giggle, poking at his chest. “Not you,” you reply wittingly.

“Oh, that’s right!” he recalls, giving you a smirk. His eyes look slightly hooded from the several shots he, you, and Nemuri did. “Because you’d like to be doing my friend right now. And don’t deny it either!”

You say nothing. Instead, you stare down at your hands clamped firmly in the lap of your skinny jeans. You went for a nice sequin top and heels tonight to pair with the jeans that made your ass and thighs look fantastic. You swear, Mic and Nemuri told you that at least five times tonight.

Nemuri finally turns around to face you, placing a folded napkin in her bra. “Got a number,” she sings. “Might just give it to you.” She goes to take the napkin out and give it to you, but you push her hand away. “No,” you protest. “I already told you, Nemuri; not interested in fuckin’ someone I barely know.”

Nemuri puckers her lips at you, giving you a scowl. “Leave her be, ‘Muri,” Mic chuckles, wrapping his arms around the both of you. “You know her heart is set on another.” He and Nemuri begin to pucker their lips at you, moving to kiss your cheeks.

“Cut it out!” you laugh, slapping them away. “I don’t want your drunk ass kisses either!”

“I don’t know why you don’t just talk to the guy, babe,” Mic chuckles, already on his fifth shot of the night. “He’s really not that bad! He’s just extremely shy and doesn’t have that much experience with talkin’ to women. If he happens to meet one, it’s usually just a hookup.”

You wither at his words, silently drinking your cocktail. You don’t want to be just a hookup to Aizawa if you ever managed to get that far with him. But those changes are slim to none since he barely speaks to you. The most you ever get out of him is a “good morning” or a “see you tomorrow”.

You’ve been working at UA for six months now and you barely know anything about him except for the fact that he’s pro-hero Eraserhead, he’s fine as fuck, and all his students love him like a dad, even calling him “Dadzawa” which you think is utterly adorable. You’d love to know what’s underneath that stoic expression and intense eyes, but Aizawa purposely keeps to himself and barely speaks to anyone.

Despite this knowledge, your body still quivers at the memory of those damn eyes setting dead on you. Then you just feel stupid. You know that you and Aizawa could never date. It’s just not in the cards for you right now, with your job as a counselor and your “nightly activity”.

So when is this stupid crush going to end?

“Oh, wow,” Mic suddenly says. He’s on his phone, scrolling through Apple News. “Look at this!” he excitedly says, practically shoving his phone in your face. “Can you believe this shit? Street crime has been down more than 50% in the past few months. More than it's been in the last five years!"

Nemuri glances at you, a knowing smirk on her face. You flush with pride and do your best to bite back a smile as you match Mic’s astonishment. “Wow, them underground pros must be workin’ hard, plus the night patrols.”

As if not wanting you to be blue over this weird ass man the entire night, one of your favorite songs comes on too. You take Nemuri and Mic’s hands in yours. “C’mon’ let’s go dance.” Nemuri squeals and practically drags you to the dance floor, Mic following close behind you. The music is good tonight, the DJ playing mostly hip hop, transitioning between 90s tunes and modern stuff.

The alcohol you consumed gives you the confidence to dance the night away, your hips swaying and ass bouncing in time with the different beats. You’re well aware you’re catching eyes from many different people out on the floor, pros or not, and it fills you with the sense of confidence and sexiness Nemuri must feel every time she walks out of the house. As you dance under the strobe lights, sweating out your makeup and braids, you feel like you could take someone home if you wanted to. Who needed Aizawa? He had no idea what he was missing.

That intoxicating feeling doesn’t let up for a moment, even as the night comes to an end hours later. It is about 11 PM when you, Nemuri, and Mic finally depart outside the club. “Thanks for inviting me,” you say, hugging Nemuri. “You sure he’s gonna be okay?”

You nod at a very drunk and sleepy Mic who has his arm slung over Nemuri’s shoulders, his head lulling. “He’ll be fine,” she giggles, wrapping an arm around his waist. “He thinks he’s a steel bull when it comes to shots, this one.” She laughs at Mic’s light mumbling as he sings the lyrics of a Beyoncé song. “Where are you about to go now?” She asks, shifting her weight in her heels to accommodate Mic’s.

“Where do you think?” You playfully ask, giving her a wink before you begin to strut away from her at the club down the street. “Just be careful!” You hear Nemuri call after you.

You turn to her, seeing her concerned gaze, and you give her a reassuring smile. “Don’t I always?” You laugh, blowing her a kiss before turning around and strutting away back to UA just as Nemuri and Mic get into the Lyft she called beforehand. But you know you can be faster.

You don’t stop moving until you’re finally behind a nearby building to a jewelry shop. You turn to look in the glass window at the woman staring back at you standing in her leather jacket, skinny jeans, and sequin top. With a slow exhale leaving your nostrils, the reflection of the woman vanishes, now replaced with a teeny, tiny, black cat.

To anyone who was to walk through this alley, all they would see is a stray walking the streets. But only you know the truth.

Though the streets are empty and quiet at this time of night, you can’t be too careful, so you decide to take the rooftops, jumping from one building without a care in the world to the next with your heightened agility and senses. All sounds of Musutafu at night–the chirping of birds; the drilling machinery of constructing workers in the streets; the honking of traffic; the occasional bark of dogs–drift to your ears, making them twitch. Everything in your sight is ten times as close, even the farthest tree where you can clearly see a couple going at it in the park.

It only takes you ten minutes you get back to UA, faster than Nemuri and Mic. You hurry across campus to the faculty dorms and jump onto the trunk of a nearby cherry blossom tree. Your claws immediately shoot out and stick into the bark, allowing you to climb up the tree with no problem.

You then creep along the long branch that stretches right to the window of your dorm that you keep cracked specifically for you–just enough for you to slide through. When you’re finally inside the clean, dark apartment, you quickly shift back into your human form (clothes still intact) and proceed to hurry to your closet.

You open it, your eyes falling on the black box pushed to the back behind your shoes. Trembling with excitement, you pull the box out and look inside where your hero’s outfit, complete with fingerless gloves, knee-high boots, and a mask, sits inside. “Hey, baby,” you coo, taking out the mask. It’s simple and black with two cat ears popping out of the top to protect your ears. You slip the mask over your head before putting on the rest of your gear.

The black leather bodysuit stretches across your skin and accentuates the curve of your ass, the fullness of your breasts, and the best parts of your body. Decorated along your front, back, and thighs are silver, glitter-coated slashes to appear like claw tears. You thought that was a cute touch. The back isn’t tight enough on your backside to hurt your tail, but you don’t like it out when you’re fighting. It’s too risky since you know your opponents could pull on it.

The mask covers the top half of your face, making you feel like a stranger as you stand in your mirror, admiring yourself. The knee-high boots are high enough to make you feel sexy, but low enough for you to kick ass or run if need be. But half the time, you’ve got the running thing covered with your cat form.

With a smile on your glossy lips, you admire the sexy woman standing in the mirror in front of you. The Night Claw. Musutafu’s newest and cutest nighttime vigilante. And your alter ego–one that you’ve secretly had for months now after starting UA.

“Time for some trouble,” you purr. With another inhale, you transform back into your cat form. You stretch, arching your back and yawning, before jumping up on the window and then leaping from the ledge.

You praise yourself when you hit the ground on all fours. Then, with a happy meow and a blink of your yellow eyes, you race out into the night, yowling happily as you do, for another night of excitement.

#aizawa x black!reader #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #here kitty kitty #my fic shit #black writers #shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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lysol1201 · 2 years

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crack ass headcanons but this time they were written at 5am

made this at 5am when i was stressed over school in march and i spilled redbull all over my desk and setup (i was a video game art major so everything i did was on my PC and then redbull got all over it so my life flashed before my eyes. at least i'm graduated tho now lol)

has some 18+ themes on here, nothing explicit just some suggestive jokes.

this is a long one so enjoy bbg's

++++

-Mammon’s favorite marvel hero is iron man because rich bitch

-Satan relates to the hulk, he empathizes with him, satan goes full on empath mode with bruce banner

-“OH SHIT! A RAT! THERE’s A RAT! THERE’S A MOTHERFUCKEN RAT!” -Barbatos probably

-MC boutta blare the p*rnhub drums music in HoL, the people who turn their heads

Asmo (lmao duh, also like smirks and is like omg what video)

Levi (he knows what it is but didn’t like it, he prefers hentai thanks. also probs knows from memes, is embarrassed because he’s levi even if he isn’t a p*rnhub avid viewer)

Mammon (oh shit oh fuck)

Lucifer (avatar of horny)

Satan is an intellectual!!! (He looks lol catgirl shit in that history and you know it)

Beel knows the sound but doesn’t care or feel embarrassed cuz it isn’t something he indulges in and Belphie is asleep.

-Levi has had significant others in the past but all have been online and most just stopped coming online after a couple days

-Satan had a skrillex phase, don’t ask why, i just can feel it

-Barbatos once played his playlist when he was baking with Luke and Luke was like “can’t wait for smooth jazz” and suddenly fucken breaking benjamin starts fucking blaring “SAY GOODBYE! AS WE DANCE WITH THE DEVIL TONIGHT! DON’T YOU DARE LOOK HIM IN THROUGH THE EYES! AS WE DANCE WITH THE DEVIL TONIGHTT” and Luke had a breakdown he had to go home. Barbatos was no longer allowed to play his playlist around Luke. So Barbatos played Cooking by the Book in apology. Luke once again got angy and went home.

-Asmo has once convinced Mammon, Levi, and Satan to do a performance for a Christmas event and it was the fucken Mean Girls choreography. Levi weirdly got way too into it

-Asmo listens to NSFW asmr this isn’t a self projection okay look let me explain I tried it out of curiosity and then passed out like good ass ASMR until the sounds of fucking woke me up n e wayz that’s Asmo

-“Oh fuck, Lucifer found the pee drawer… in his study HIGH FIVE” -Anti-Lucifer League

-ButterSock owners:

Lucifer

Barbatos

Solomon

-“Beel stop, don’t eat your brother-“ -Lucifer

-Who can do the WAP dance the best, from best to worst

Asmo (lmao is that a question)

Barbatos (don’t ask why)

Belphie (weirdly good at things without trying, just kinda like his grades)

Solomon (just listen)

Satan (wasn’t going to let Lucifer be better than him)

Lucifer (could be better if he wanted to but he’s not sure whats worst, being the best at it or being the worst at it. settles with the middle)

Diavolo (mmm fuck)

Levi (probably practiced before it was brought up, but too embarrassed to use his full potential)

Mammon (too much force)

Beel (too distracted by “macaroni in a pot” lyric)

-Pacifist Route Undertale Players:

Luke

Simeon

Diavolo (dunno why I just feel like he’d just be happy to be there)

Beel

Renegade Route Players:

Belphie

Satan

Solomon

No Specific Route:

Lucifer

Mammon

Asmo

Both Playthroughs:

Levi

-Lucifer wears crocs

-Buys discord kittens nitro:

Satan

Levi

Is a discord kitten:

Asmo

Belphie (fakes identity for free shit)

Mammon (b urself❤)

-No Nut November Survivors:

Beel

Belphie

Satan

Barbatos

Diavolo

Simeon

No Nut November Failures:

Asmo

Lucifer (avatar of horny)

Mammon

Levi (someone looked at me, horndog)

Solomon

-“This one’s for you bbg.” *misses*

Levi

Mammon

Satan

Asmo

Belphie

Solomon

-belphie studies by listening to like audio shit and falling asleep to it, gets that shit engraved in his brain and he can sleep also win-win he’s unstoppable

-“Hey…. do you know about Candice? Candice dick fit in yo mouth.” -Anti-Lucifer League

-Mammon can outrun lucifer but he lowkey wants to be caught cuz its fun

-“Hey, what do you have?”

“A knife!”

“NO!” -Lucifer and Belphie interaction

-“If you enjoyed the Bee Movie, you’re going to Hell!” -Luke

-Solomon told Diavolo about Spaghetti Tacos from iCarly and Diavolo immediately made Barbatos make some. He loved it.

-Asmo gets Lucifer to do tiktok dances with him and Lucifer is good as fuck

-Barbatos is perfect at tiktok dances. and everything. he’s perfect.

-Belphie is skilled with firearms, be afraid (proof right here)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me luke #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon

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pillowwillow007 · 2 months

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She zoomies across the skies!

Meow!

Hiya! I'm Jazz, but I also go by PillowWillow on the interwebs.

I made this piece a little while ago, but my girlfriend suggested posting it as well as others online

For this silly lil WW1 era bi-plane (missed opportunity to add a bi flag somewhere), I almost exclusively worked off of the schematic found here: https://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil/Visit/Museum-Exhibits/Fact-Sheets/Display/Article/3520466/wwi-mechanics/

The piece took a combined nine hours of work, including 3 hours of failed attempts, but the effort was all well worth it in my eyes. I especially like the angry, sabre-wielding catgirl I added as a sort of finishing touch. She wants to get up close and personal to duel her opponents on the field of battle!

My art might suck in more ways than one (curse you, perspective!) at the moment, but I hope to improve it with fun but rigorous studies, by moving to digital art for its convenience and working to find my own unique style in time to motivate me further.

I hope you enjoy my silly art.

Sincerely,

PillowWillow

#artwork #art #traditional art #biplane #planeposting #catgirl #trans rights #trans power #transrightarehumanrights #world war 1 #world war one #pencil #beginner artist #sillyposting #silly #nyanyanya #protect trans lives

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catgirlhell · 9 months

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🎶✨ when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to. then send this ask or tag 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)✨🎶

i'll kill you for cursing me @unclekow

the best way to describe what im listening to at any given moment is that im either playing the soundtrack to an anime that only exists in my head or attempting to block out all psychic attacks inflicted upon me from the world with the power of jazz and 90's/00's japanese alt rock and hip hop.

Get Down to Business, aka the Order Sol Theme by Daisuke Ishiwatari

It's the Sol Badguy music. It's the ultimate cool old guy who sucks music. I have a cool old guy who sucks that I've been thinking about. It's important for my delusions.

Lay Back by Lotus Juice

I am a *very* big fan of acoustic hip-hop, and I also really like japanese rap. I haven't actually listened to Lotus Juice that much (my teenage years were still defined squarely by Nujabes and his contemporaries!) but I've found this introduction to his work to be interesting! I'm looking forward to listening to more of it.

P.H.D. - Portable Headphone Dancefloor by 2mello

You, a buffoon, might say its cheating to list a whole album. I, a genius, would claim that its sacrilege to not treat a house mix as one whole song. If I were to take a single pick from it, dreamin on its own is probably my favorite track out of it all, so much so that I have spliced it out and extended it for my own listening. I've been a fan of 2mello for awhile now and I can safely say that every album he makes is my favorite of his until he makes the next.

Ka Bohaleng / On the Sharp Side by Abel Selaocoe

I don't talk about it much, but I was actually raised in a family that practiced and professionally performed Traditional West African Drum and Dance. As a result, I've always been partial to traditional/ethnic music worldwide, especially African music, and Abel Selaocoe is like the holy grail of such. His work can be described as "classically trained baroque that is distinctly African in nature," and I regularly stream his live performances and studio album. If there is anything in this list I would beg you hear, it is this song, and to a further extent, his performance at Cologne Jazzweek.

Akaneiro ga Moeru Toki/茜色が燃えるとき by Scoobie Do

This thing snuck up on me towards the start of the summer and blew my tits clean off. I'm a person very much trapped in the pre-2010's, especially the late 90's-late aughts. As I get older, I lean less and less towards new media and instead indulge in rediscovering older stuff. I have never watched a Gungrave. I have never played a Gungrave. But I have managed to get my hands on the majority of Scoobie Do's discography and play it regularly. The band is still active, but like all things, I am obsessed with their mini-album Kaze no Koibito, which has this song on it. Please listen to this song and please listen to Scoobie Do. The band is called Scoobie Do man, just do it.

HONORABLE MENTION:

Sleepy Head by the pillows

Earlier this spring, I finally watched Fooly Cooly for the first time ever, after maybe 6 years of people twice my age asking why I had never seen it when it seemed to be so completely grafted to my tastes. Well I did, and then I immediately drew my catgirl holding a guitar because of it. I'm not normal after that show. "Why did they keep asking you why you'd never seen it" I hear you asking. *ahem*

Because I've been listening to its soundtrack and the rest of the pillows discography since I was like. Twelve.

Don't ask me how I found it because I do not know. But between Ride on Shooting Star and this, I've returned to the FLCL soundtrack maybe once every 2 months for about a decade. This isn't propaganda to watch the anime, but it is propaganda to listen to the soundtrack.

@teffiniwynn, @kdinjenzen, @puyopuyo, @shukitanuki, @qwk, @lamphoera, @yuleloggu, @alien-tidays, @girlballs, @ockitten

im gonna go daydream about cringe shit goodnight

#kakitalk

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beepadoobop · 1 year

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hoo baby these catgirls are swingin!

-(middle aged man at a trans jazz show)

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prettyboylovemail · 2 years

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🌟 + one for Sigma!

@schrodingers-catgirl Including these both in one! ❤✨

Okay SO. For Sigma, it gets really complicated due to all the different timelines and time travel and all that jazz, so I'll try to keep it brief.

The best word to describe my ship with Sigma is "soulmates".

The main consistency amongst all the different branching timelines and everything is that my insert (still named Hannah) went to college with Sigma, and they shared at least one class together. While Sigma didn't really notice her — other than vaguely noting that she was simply "some girl in his class" — Hannah very quickly developed a big crush on him. He wasn't the type of guy she would normally go for, but there was just something about him that caught her attention and she couldn't help but find herself daydreaming about him all the time.

Flash forward to when we're both kidnapped and put inside the Ambidex Nonary Game (and subsequently the Decision Game in ZTD), Hannah is the one to recognize him immediately. We end up getting paired together multiple times, practically forced to spend a lot of time together, and that's when they really get to bond and actually develop real feelings for each other. And once Sigma starts getting all his memories from other timelines — remembering all the times I've died because of him or the times he's died trying to protect me — that's when he starts to realize that he never wants to lose me again and does everything in his power to keep me safe.

'Course, there's a lot that goes on in between that would take far too long to explain in detail, but the gist is that no matter what timeline we're in, or how many times we have to die and relive the same horrible days over and over again, we always find a way of coming back to each other.

#ahhh thank you both for asking!!!#i always feel bad for how complicated the sigma ship is to talk about #but i really appreciate being asked about him!!!!!#asks #mutuals #reyson #caedyn #the future we create #self insert // zero escape

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kingoffiends · 2 years

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWLAbNHn5Ho

going feral over this jazz dancing catgirl

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whaleofatjme1920 · 2 years

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A lot of e girls are posers.

But also on that girl, she also HATED listening to any criticism or warnings about her practice, she had a fit when I asked her how long she was reading tarot cards

She actually acted like a fucking child when I told her unless you have good cleansing, warding and protections up it's not good to try and communicate with any spirits through a pendulum board

VUT SHE THOUGHT IT WAS OK BC SHE WATCHED ONE YOUTUBE VIDEO ON IT!!??! She also bought a very complex pendulum board to start with. She never wanted to listen when I told her to not mess with it and she also called her "friend" an energy vampire and a toxic person bc she was friends with her ex and they got along really well.

She also left that said friend in a public church ALONE, WHILE SHE WAS TRIPPING ON ACID! Bc she called her ex on the phone bc she was having a really bad trip and was freaking out. While I do not Condone drug usage bc I was raised that way, I think it's worse to leave your friend in a public space while they are having a bad trip bc you are upset that they called your ex

Her and this ex at the time were on speaking conditions, she had a bf but she flipped out bc she still liked her ex??? But was dating someone else for months

She also ended her friendship with this girl, bc she didn't invite her to her 18th birthday party, this party was not a big shebang, I went and it was just kids getting drunk and chatting with food and cake. The irony is

That this girl, didn't invite her "friend" to her birthday party that year either.

She was also chronically online, extremely jealous and possessive and really petty and mean. And a cheater, she cheated on all of her partners

We went to the same highschool 2 years ago (we are graduated now, me for 1 year and her for 2), and she would glare at me in the hallways, bc I posted 1 pic of her boyfriend,, this pic was a dumb pic of him and was posted as friends, and had no undertones of anything other then platonic feelings, she then later came to me after "becoming a witch" and "having a spiritual awakening" to settle the beef between us. As far as I knew. There was never any beef!!

She also blamed anything negative on a "spiritual awakening" literally, it could have been just some bag luck OR THE CONSEQUENCES OF HER ACTIONS!! And she'd go crying to everyone saying she's having such a hard time with her spiritual awakening and people are sending her "the evil eye" and all of this poor me crap.

She stoll acts like this, out of highschool, except now she isn't a "witch" or a "goth" e girl anymore bc it isn't trending atm

The way I hate e girls is much more than just that! It actually has to do with how I believe White e girls actively contribute to the fetishization and violence of east and SEAsian women! I usually find White women/White people who align a little too close to kawaii culture, harajuku, and especially e girl culture extremely suspicious. E girls are the greatest offenders I can see most often. Anime culture is tied closely to e girl culture - so seeing e girls infantilize themselves, use anime voice clips, using ahegao, uwu, nya, ara ara, "is this Asian baiting makeup uwu???", "im a catgirl", and largely take East Asian aliases?? I just,,, I find them wrong. I hate gatekeeping but I just find White people who subscribe deeply to e girl culture problematic and uncomfortable.

I don't mind she's reading tarot but it should be for HERSELF. I've been reading cards for,,, a few years? And don't like reading for other people other than me. I've done like two readings for friends and that was largely situational. idk why people want to talk to spirits and stuff without going through the proper means. Depends on the situation with the ex though, I personally would not be too jazzed if a friend of mine was still good friends with an ex of mine. I don't have much experience with drug usage - I don't have any as I'm the one person the DARE program worked on lol - but that's.... why would you leave someone who is in an altered state of mind somewhere they could get hurt?

I am glad some years of my life are over bc none of this ever happened to me? I had a lot of things going on but socially, it wasn't like this! The spiritual awakening thing is... I don't like saying there's a few things that feel like cults and what not but in witch communities some things just scream "jehovah's witness" or mormons lol.

#just chatting #tw

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darkarfs · 2 months

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The Black Dahlia Murder - Abysmal JG Thirlwell - Music Of The Venture Bros Volume Two Adolf Plays The Jazz - Low Life | We Can't Lose. We Have Already Lost. Sleepytime Gorilla Museum - Of The Last Human Being

Big Business - Command Your Weather Disillusion - The Liberation Revocation - Chaos of Forms Eggplant - Catgirl

Christopher Willits - OPENING Deaf Center - Owl Splinters MJ Guider - Youth and Beauty Rezn - Solace

Allegaeon - DAMNUM Judas Priest - Invincible Shield Book Of Knots - Garden Of Fainting Stars

#had a full and fulfilling week #Jesus was it long tho

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hexjulia · 1 year

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i think we should bring ‘cat’ back as a gender-neutral way to address people

pros:

- sound like 70s disco song subject or 1940s jazz person on all occasions - no gender pain inflicted on anyone - compatible with ‘catboy’ and ‘catgirl’ while somehow a wildly different genre of word - ‘cool cat’ - cat. - meow meow

#CAT #catboys #catgirls #catmen #catwomen #truly the most inclusive form of address #or how could i forget!#catpeople

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year

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Here, Kitty, Kitty (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Writer’s Note: Thank you all so, so, soooo much for the love on this story! I'll be writing some brand new shit soon! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

*************

TEN.

When the next day comes, it brings with it some unseasonably warm weather that Aizawa feels when he wanders into the living room and finds you gone.

He isn’t sure how you got out since the windows are locked, but he supposes that cats have their ways. He feels a twinge of disappointment at seeing you gone once again, but he knew that you would probably want to be outside and not cooped up in a dorm all day.

Plus, now that Eri has more hope that you’ll come home after your adventures, she seems much happier. Even when he wakes her up in time to get her ready to hang with Hitoshi before his classes begin, she is a giggly, upbeat little ball of energy.

“Maybe she’ll bring back a present,” she happily says as she and Aizawa walk hand and hand across campus. “Or maybe she’s with other kitties! You think she’ll let us meet them, Daddy?” The way she looks up at him excitedly makes his heart clench. “If she trusts us enough and has friends, sure,” he chuckles.

During the entire day of work, Aizawa is feeling pretty good, though one thing could make his day go a whole lot better: seeing you. He purposely has stopped by your office a few times when taking bathroom breaks just to see you, but every time he does, you’re never in. He thinks that maybe you just took off today or perhaps your hours are different this week.

Whatever it is, it’s none of his business, but he can't help the disappointment he feels at not seeing your pretty face or cute little ears.

He has no idea why since he ends up becoming a rock-hard, blushing mess over them regardless. He doesn’t know how he was able to say even one coherent sentence to you while he and Eri were eating ice cream yesterday afternoon. Maybe Eri was the missing link. Or maybe the ice cream. It’s been proven chocolate works as an aphrodisiac.

Aizawa can’t help but feel wistful about his conversation yesterday with you. It was all so amazing that it felt like a good dream to him–the easiness he felt speaking to you; the way such joy sparkled in your eyes; your musical laughs that he wanted to hear again and again; the way you engaged Eri that made him want to put a baby in you himself. It all felt so good. So right. He can't help but feel like that may never happen to him and you again.

He’s just too damn anti-social. Too shy. Too awkward. What would he be able to say without Eri linking the two of you together? How can he speak to you, especially with those damn ears and that tail he wants to desperately stroke?

Where does he even begin to learn how to charm and woo a woman when he hasn’t had the urge to do so since high school?

He knows just the person to talk about this with, so after the day is through and school is out, he and Mic take a trip to the faculty dorms’ private gym. They leave Eri in the kids’ section that Nezu specifically created for her and any other faculty members that may have a child. So far, she’s the only one occupying the space.

While Eri colors and sings along to the Little Mermaid playing on the TV overhead, Aizawa gives Mic the rundown on his dilemma as he does his bicep curls with some 16 lb dumbells.

Mic is overjoyed as he does his cool-down stretches, his long legs splayed out in front of him. “Ah, I’m so glad you’re coming to me with this, Shouta!” he happily says, grinning at his friend. “We need to talk like this more! It’ll do you good to open up about your concerns and anxieties with the ways of women.”

“Don't get used to it,” Aizawa grumbles, giving Mic a fixed stare from the bench. “I’m only tellin’ you because you’re the only one I semi-trust with this.”

Mic just laughs as he continues his cool-down stretches, pressing down onto his knees. “And I only wanna talk to her because she seems nice. I don’t want her to think I hate people or whatever.”

Mic glances at him curiously. “But you do hate people.”

Aizawa flushes as he bends forward, still doing his curls. “Well, yes, but she’s too nice to be all people,” he argues. “She actually gives a fuck about her job and the way she engaged in conversation with Eri was just…”

He trails off and smiles dreamily as his mind fills with visions of you and Eri together, in your own little world. The way you encouraged her to be her little bubbly, hyper self was the cutest shit he’d ever seen. You’d be a great mom, he knows…if you aren’t one already, that is.

Something in Aizawa wilts at the possibility of someone having you–maybe a partner or a husband. You never talked about being married or dating, especially to him, so he knows thinking this way is stupid. But dammit, he just can’t help himself or these intrusive thoughts. Feeling eyes on him, he looks at Mic, finding a goofy, knowing grin on his face. “Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he growls.

“Man, I don’t know why you don’t just admit that you like the girl!” Mic laughs, standing up and raising his arms, lean with muscle, high. “C’mon; she’s sweet, intelligent, loves kids, and has those cute lil’ cat parts. She’s your dream girl!”

Aizawa rolls his eyes, thinking his friend is just being overly dramatic as usual. “Just ask her out one day when she’s free. Simple as that!”

Aizawa softly grunts as he lays the dumbbells down at his feet, giving his arms a break. “I don’t just ask people out,” he huffs, frustrated. “And I’m not askin’ her out, to begin with. I just want to have a conversation with her without feeling awkward. I want us to be strictly friends.”

Mic just shakes his head pityingly at the professor. “Whatever you saaaay,” he sing-songs, obviously thinking differently. “But you should still ask her to lunch or something to get to know her if you don’t feel comfortable doing it around us in the break room.” He snaps his fingers, a lightbulb flicking in his head. “Maybe for some ramen! Everybody likes ramen, right?”

“Who likes ramen?” you suddenly ask from the door. Aizawa nearly chokes on the water he’s chugging down when he spots you in a bright yellow sports bra and black yoga pants that should be illegal on you, especially with the way you cut out the back so your tail can breathe. It swishes happily at your ankles when you spot Mic.

“I thought I heard your voice,” you giggle. “I could hear you all the way down the hall.” You come farther into the room with a dufflebag and Hydroflask.

As you do, your eyes fall onto Aizawa and your tail stops swishing. “Oh…sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” Aizawa’s mouth goes dry despite the water he just drank as he stares at you, forcing himself to not check you out.

Mic snickers quietly, already gathering his shit. “No, come in!” he enthusiastically insists. “I was just getting ready to leave. Gotta grade papers now or else I’ll never get to ‘em. But you don’t worry your pretty ears; Shouta here is a great gym buddy.” He turns to Aizawa and gives him a wink. “See you two tomorrow!” he chirps before he practically rushes out of the gym.

Aizawa makes a mental note to kill his friend and hide the body later.

When you walk farther into the room, you barely spare him a glance. Though it pains him, he can’t exactly blame you because he keeps his eyes down at his feet too as he proceeds to finish his bicep curls. Out of his peripheral, he watches as you lay a yoga mat down from the row of shelves underneath the mirror sitting in front of you. You wipe it down with a sanitized wipe before kicking off your shoes, plugging in your earbuds, and getting right to the warm-up stretches.

Aizawa can’t help but watch, noticing how flexible you are. The way you bend this way and that, your muscles moving with every pose, makes his cock grow embarrassingly hard in his sweats.

The air between you is tense and thick with something he can’t quite describe: Awkwardness? Definitely. Desire? Possibly, on his side. He just can’t help himself when he begins to acknowledge how good you look in yoga pants.

He quickly looks away, instead opting to look towards the empty treadmills on the other side of the room. What he wouldn’t give to get a handful of your ass, squeeze and spank the firm yet soft cheeks, and stroke that tail that invades his nightly thoughts. Maybe you’d let him dig his fingers into the hole of your pants and rip it further, revealing the cute little panties hiding underneath. Or maybe you’d have none on at all. It would give Aizawa the perfect chance to pull those asscheeks apart and finally put his face in it as his tongue relishes the taste of your sweet, perfect, wet little–

“Mind if I use these?” you ask, suddenly next to him. He nearly jumps, finding you pointing at the eight lb dumbbells that Mic left.

He finds his voice after swallowing the lump in his throat. “Go ahead; I’m not usin’ ‘em.” He hopes that sounded the least bit of kind. You smile in thanks though and silently take the dumbbells from the spot Mic left them in.

He silently and sneakily watches as you begin to do your leg and glute workouts with some dumbbell lifts added in the mix: squats; lunges; kickbacks. All done right in his face. Do you know what you’re doing to him? Can you see the bulge growing in his sweats? Obviously not since your eyes are facing straight ahead, focusing strictly on your workout.

‘Fuck this,’ he thinks, sexually frustrated. He isn’t going to resort to being a perv. Quickly, he puts his dumbbells down and walks out of range to the other side of the gym farthest away from you. He walks straight up to the pull-up bar where he left his duffle bag for a specific reason. He usually goes for either cardio or dumbbells first to get his arms warmed up before proceeding with the “real” workout.

Aizawa takes his scarves out of his duffle and carefully wraps them around the pull-up bar, making sure to pull it tight enough so the scarves don’t unravel. Once finished, he wraps his fists up in each end of the scarves and begins to do his special arm exercises.

He uses his scarves as one would use resistance bands to build their upper arm strength, doing warmups to get the blood flowing in his arms. He concentrates on his bicep and tricep curls, and wrist exercises to keep his arms limber yet controlled, sweat beginning to drip into his eyes from how hard he’s going into his workout. He is finally able to focus on something other than you. ‘Thank God.’

Feeling like his arms are warmed up enough, he grips his scarves into his fists and pulls himself up, his arms clenching from his full body weight. He straightens his arms and crosses one foot over the other as he straightens his back. He envisions himself on a tightrope, forcing himself to stay still despite his arms beginning to rest since they’re the only things holding him up.

Grunting softly from the burn in his arm muscles, he relaxes his arms only to slowly flip backwards, his movements controlled from many years of training. He finally lands back on his feet, bending his knees slightly to avoid injuring himself. When he releases his scarves, his hands are red and his fingers ache from gripping them so tightly. He’s gotten used to that though. It is what comes with the pains of being a pro.

“That was really cool,” you suddenly say from behind him in the mirror. Your eyes are trained straight on him, wide with astonishment.

He turns around, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat out of his eyes. “Sorry!” You blurt, looking ashamed at your staring. “I’ve just never seen anyone do that before. You work out with your scarves?”

He notices the way your fluffy ears droop in embarrassment and he smirks to himself. “To keep myself familiar with ‘em,” he huffs before taking a sip of his water. “And to come up with new techniques. It never hurts to rehearse from time to time.”

He goes to take a seat on the floor to proceed with some push-ups, but as he does, a searing pain enters his lower back that makes him hiss. You stare on, concerned. “Just my back,” he reassures you. “Don’t worry about it.” The last thing he wants is for you to see him as old or decrepit.

But his body betrays him once again as he tries to get into position, a sharp pain in his lower back stabbing him. “Ah, shit!” he swears, his hand immediately flying to his lower back to rub at the ache.

It doesn’t help at all. He must’ve not done as much stretching earlier as he’d hoped. He glances at you, expecting you to be laughing at him–the sight of Eraserhead suffering from back pain in his early 30s must be hilarious.

But instead, you just look worried. “Maybe you should try this.” You slowly sit down in a crisscrossed position, your feet touching one another and lean forward so your back is straight and your chest is touching the floor. “This pose really helps with back pain. I do this as much as I can since I sit so much during work.”

Aizawa hesitates slightly, not wanting you to pity him. But with the way your soft eyes are coaxing him to follow, he mirrors your position anyway. As he slowly leans forward to straighten his back, he can feel some of that tension and ache beginning to evaporate. You smile in approval.

“Now stretch your arms up overhead,” you instruct him, raising your arms up to the sky. He follows, doing his best to hide back a blush. He feels like a little kid following your every move.

“Good; now place your hands on the floor and stretch your arms out as far as you can go in front of you. Don’t push yourself.” He follows you, raising his arms up before falling forward, his arms stretched out in front of him. He breathes deeply, allowing the stretches to do their work. He can feel the tension and aches in his muscles leaving him, his body recovering after his workout.

“Feel good?” you ask, a smile in your voice. He hums in response, his eyes fluttering closed. “The butterfly position helps too! Looks like this.” He lifts from his position, finding you sitting upright with your hands holding your feet. Your knees begin to move up and down, mimicking those of a butterfly’s wings.

Aizawa follows, feeling the stretch in his hamstrings and inner thighs. He raises an eyebrow at your smile like you’re trying to hold back a laugh. “You’re slouching,” you playfully giggle, rising from your seat to assist him. His heart begins to hammer in his chest as you kneel next to him. You’re so close. “May I?” you ask, giving him a soft, round-eyed look.

He nods, unable to speak. You move behind him and place a tentative hand on his lower back. He nearly shivers at your touch. Your hand is so warm. He wants to feel your touch everywhere. Not to mention the scent of your shampoo. What is that? Coconut? It’s driving him insane. All he can think about is that scent being all over him after he’s done fucking you.

“Just keep your back straight,” you utter, your breath fanning his cheek. “Grab onto your ankles for leverage if you need it.” Your voice is soft and inviting, coaxing him out of his comfort zone.

Swallowing harshly and forcing himself to not pop a boner, he does as you instruct: he straightens his back, puffs out his chest, presses his shoulders back, and grabs onto his feet. “Perfect!” you giggle, applauding him. “You’re a natural at this.”

“So are you,” he blurts, his voice lower than normal. “A-At teaching, I mean.” You smile at the compliment as you rise to your feet. “I used to teach yoga on YouTube as a way to pay for school. I had a dream of opening up my own yoga studio, but I guess my calling was to be a counselor.”

Aizawa commits the new info to his mental file cabinet on you. He can see you being a teacher in anything, knowing you’d do a good job with such a soft yet commanding aura. “I’ve been told my flexibility would make me a great hero,” you snicker, balling up your fists for a mock fight with him.

He chuckles, grunting as he stands. “It takes more than flexibility to be a hero.”

You laugh at his statement, hands on your hips. “You say that even though you have back pain in your thirties,” you retort boldly, then flush with embarrassment when Aizawa raises a brow at you. “I read everyone’s birthday on the faculty birthday calendar.”

Aizawa practically melts. Why the fuck do you have to be so goddamn cute? “Back pain or not, as a seasoned professional pro, I also have strength, both upper and lower, technique, and strict control over my quirk when it comes to hand-to-hand combat. You’ll need it when you’re fighting villains.”

You cock your head to the side, a purse in your pouty, kissable lips. “Show me some of them techniques then,” you playfully challenge, crossing your arms over your chest. “Since you’re so seasoned and so sure I don’t have what it takes.”

Aizawa cocks a brow at you, feeling a zing of electricity shoot through him at this newfound side of you–you’re so playful and sassy. It’s fucking hot. “Alright,” he sighs, “but you don’t complain when you twist a muscle.”

He begins to walk over to the right side of the gym which is known as the training portion of the room. Several punching bags and makeshift people made out of sandbags sit there, ready to be used by any seasoned or up-and-coming pro to train for missions and fights.

Aizawa and you stand in front of a makeshift person, its head and body two heavy burlap sacks filled with sand. He turns to you, stepping into the roles of a trainer and sensei. “So, we’ll start with the basics. Start by facing your opponent and analyzing them.”

You nod and turn to face the sandbag person, eyeing them up. He resists the urge to laugh at your cuteness. “If they have a quirk, what kind is it? Can you spot a weakness in it or your opponent’s body? Can you spot a pressure point perhaps? Maybe a place you can sink those claws into.”

You glance at him, straight-faced. “Ha, ha,” you deadpan. "I don’t even have claws.” Aizawa thinks that’s a lie. He’d opt to find out in his bed (or yours; he ain’t too picky) while he’s balls deep inside of you and your hands are gripping his back.

“So your opponent is coming at you,” he continues, willing the nasty thoughts away. “But you’re ready though. You’ll start by placing your foot on your least dominant side behind the foot on your dominant side.”

You do as he instructs, placing one foot behind the other. “Tilt your hips a little more so they’re angled to the side but facing me.” You attempt to do that as well, but can’t seem to angle your hips enough so they are parallel to your feet. A laugh in the form of a huff leaves his nostrils as he comes forward.

“May I?” he asks, his eyes flicking up to yours. Silently, you nod. “Like this.”

He places his hands on your hips which is a horrible idea. Now his cock his throbbing, begging to be released from its prison in his sweats. Your skin is so warm from the slip of your stomach that he gets from your pants riding low on your waist. Your body is tense, but you don’t stop him as he twists your waist to face him and angles your hips so they are straight.

“Now you’re gonna use your dominant leg to kick up and out, right at your opponent’s chest. Put your full weight into it.” He steps back, allowing you to act out the move. You turn to your opponent and, with an inhale, you kick your leg up and out at the middle of your opponent’s sandbag body, grunting as you do. It barely moves.

You turn to him with a shameful expression. “Let’s try that again,” he chuckles. “Push onto your opponent when your foot connects with their chest to push them down and away from you. Put all your weight into your leg.”

Once again, you try, letting out a forceful grunt as your foot connects with the sandbag. You push your opponent away, causing it to teeter slightly on its stand, and then fall backward.

You gape down at it, an excited gasp leaving your lips. “I did it!” you shout in triumph, your ears and tail frazzled. He nods, crossing his muscled arms over his chest. “Not bad for a rookie,” he playfully says. “Maybe you’ve got some potential…some.”

You turn to him, a mischievous and bold glint in your pretty, brown eyes. You purse your lips at him and lay your hands on your hips the way he wants to. “I’d say the same about you with yoga,” you retort, earning a chuckle from him and a surge from his cock.

You both stand there for a moment, staring at each other. No blinking. No talking. Just a surge of electricity that Aizawa can feel in the air. It’s intoxicating, dangerous, and so delicious. His eyes glance at your lips, zeroing in on how plump and glossy they are. He could just lean in and kiss you right now.

His phone suddenly goes off in his back pocket, making you both jump. Growling deeply at the ruined moment, he pulls his phone out and finds the reminder he set for 5 PM. “Shit,” he hisses. “I should be cooking dinner around this time for Eri. I have to go.”

“Oh, okay!” you reply, and he catches a glimpse of what he thinks is disappointment in your pretty eyes. Or is that just what he wants to see?

“I should be gettin’ back too,” you say, already moving to gather your things. “You just reminded me that I need to start cooking too before I end up ordering takeout again.”

Aizawa watches you, his heart clenching painfully. He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want this moment to end with you. Can’t it just last a minute longer? “I could walk you back to your dorm if you want,” he suggests with a passive shrug. “It’s only safe.”

He keeps his tone tight and easy, but he’s dying for you to say yes. You look at him wide-eyed, shocked that he even offered. The little smile and nod you give him just about fills him to the brim with relief. So you don’t think that he’s a creep. Great start.

After you both gather your things, Aizawa collects Eri from the playroom, finding her sleeping on the floor. “Time to go home, puddin’,” he whispers to her as he scoops her up into his arms. She sleepily groans, her head lulling against his chest. Her eyes then flutter open to stare up at him. “Daddy, why are you smiling so much?” she groggily asks. He shushes her in response.

Luckily, the little girl falls right back to sleep as Aizawa accompanies you on your journey to your dorm. It doesn’t take long, but the last few minutes of feeling you beside him are all he needs. When you finally make it to your door, you give him a grateful smile. “Thanks for walking me back.”

He nods silently, willing himself to say something more. He thinks back to Mic’s words, conjuring up all the confidence he can muster to ask for your number. “Um, maybe we can do this again sometime?” he asks, a shy blush adorning his cheeks. “Just in case you ever decide to you wanna fuck up a sandbag person again.”

You blink at him, alarmingly quiet. He knew he’d fuck this up. It was all wishful thinking. Damn Mic and his advice. “O-Or you don’t have to,” he quickly adds. “No pressure. I just thought that–”

“I’d like that,” you interrupt, giving him a dazzling smile. “I can give you my number or…” You trail off, looking just as shy.

Relief floods Aizawa’s body as he gives you his number instead, his heart pounding as you type his digits into your contacts. That’s all it took, and yet Aizawa feels like he just walked on the moon. “See you tomorrow then,” he mumbles, abruptly turning on his heel to avoid grinning like an idiot at you.

“Shouta, wait!” you suddenly shout. He abruptly stops and turns to face you, finding you to still be standing at your door. “I-I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you weakly say.

He blinks at you, noticing how nervous you suddenly look. His stomach immediately plummets, wondering what the flip in your demeanor could mean. Are you having second thoughts about his number? Are you with someone already?

Finally, you sigh, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “Nevermind; just be safe.” You give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes before you turn, unlock your door, and disappear into your dorm. Aizawa doesn’t have time to ponder what just happened. He silently walks back to his dorm with Eri in his arms and dinner on his mind, expecting a quiet, normal end to the night.

However, when he arrives at his door and spots the little black cat that has stolen Eri’s heart sitting by his dorm door, he realizes that tonight will be anything but normal. “Look, Eri,” he coos, smiling down at your little cat form as you push your furry body into his legs, your trail curling around his ankles.

“Our visitor is back.”

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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takethistoyourstardust · 2 years

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Wondrous Tails of FFXIV - Music

(Important context; my WoL’s Echo, other than the canon ways it manifests, also manifests in being able to literally hear trial boss music. While most of the soundtrack you hear in game is non-diegetic, the trial boss music is diegetic to her and no one else. Also this is not WoLRaha; Ahrora is aroace.)

“Have you ever tried transcribing your songs?”

“Huh?” Ahrora looked up from her bow, examining it for any damage, Miqo’te ears flicking. “I didn’t hear you, sorry.” She re-adjusted her headband, since it slipped a bit forward with her head down. G’raha Tia has asked her the question, a fellow bow user, like her. He was the one who seemed to be the most excited to travel into the Crystal Tower, his enthusiasm seemingly only matched by Xiyu Moonfire, a Viera who Ahrora quickly claimed was her own brother. It was a bit odd, but he seemed so trusting, and he didn’t seem weirded out when she said it.

“Oh, sorry,” G’raha said, crouching down near her. “But I noticed you’re a bard, but you don’t seem to have a set list of songs you sing when you’re barding. Maybe if you wrote them down, you’d be able to remember them better, and you’d be able to fight better.”

Ahrora raised her eyebrow at him. “It’s not a bad idea, but I… don’t know how to write. Not very well, anyways.” It was a bit embarrassing to admit, especially when she could very clearly see the Archon marks on the side of his neck, proving he was much, much smarter than her. But while she had a basic understanding of reading, and had learned to read at a much higher level thanks to her dad, and she could at least write her name, she had no real reason to learn how to write.

“Oh,” G’raha said simply, looking down. He seemed to be thinking about how to change the subject.

“No, don’t feel weird about it,” Ahrora shrugged. “I just don’t know how. I mean, I can write my name, but that won’t help with writing down the music I hear.”

“Well, maybe when you have some free time, you can teach yourself how to write sheet music, at least.” G’raha said. “I could even help you!”

“You seem really insistent about this…” Ahrora said, smiling a bit warily. “Do you like writing your own music?”

“Ah, well,” G’raha started, “I don’t always, but sometimes, I’ll overhear Xiyu singing, and I’ll write it down, if only a little bit of it. He gets a little embarrassed by it, but he’s such a good singer, I can’t help it.” He was blushing a bit.

“Maybe he should be a bard, too,” Ahrora said.

“Maybe,” G’raha smiled. “But I can show you how to write the sheet music once we finish exploring all the secrets the Tower holds for us!”

“I’ll hold you to that!”

–

The candlelight of her inn room was surprisingly bright, even this late at night. Ishgard’s winds were howling, blowing snow against her window, but Ahrora didn’t notice it, or it at least didn’t distract her. She plucked a few strings on the small lyre she had been gifted by Jehantel, humming a note to see if she matched it to the string’s note. When she was satisfied with the match, she jotted it down on the paper. She pushed her hair out of her eyes on instinct, despite her hair being much shorter now, not even touching her shoulders.

G’raha had only given her the most basic tutorial on how to write her own sheet music. To be fair, he was a very good teacher, and she was able to grasp the fundamentals. But he had decided to leave a deeper dive for later, not elaborating that “later” would be “when he woke up from his sleep in the Tower, which might not even be within her lifetime”. Xiyu seemed to be the most devastated by G’raha choosing to seal himself in the Tower, but G’raha had promised that he’d see him again. Considering Viera lifespans, she didn’t doubt that G’raha was being absolutely serious about that. But again, that was not occupying her mind as she read what she had written down, playing along with the lyre.

“These voices telling me let it go… Let it all go… I try and try but I can’t say no… Try and say no… This endless nightmare has just become… Nowhere to run… My heart is dragging me down into…”

She sighed. It was much slower than the song she heard fighting Shiva. The guitar she had heard, that was a much harder sound than any guitar she had heard. Still, she wanted to get this song down, if only to understand Ysayle a little bit more. She plucked a few more notes on her lyre, and sang those last few notes as she wrote them down.

“Oblivion…”

–

It was a quiet night in the Crystarium, a rarity in recent days. With the permanent return of night, even with a few days having passed, people were still celebrating it. Even from her suite in the Pendants, she could hear the people cheering to the return of the moon. But tonight, the one night she didn’t want to sleep, everyone else seemed to. So, to hopefully not disturb anyone, she had retreated to the highest place she could think of, the watchtower near the rookery. It wasn’t her first choice, but it was the quietest choice. Now, sat up here, with her lyre in hand, she sang to the stars;

“La la la la la, lying lost in thought, Do you love me not? Follow these Petals cast aloft, la la la la la, Will you, when I’m gone, remember me?”

The notes on the lyre were light, but Ahrora’s own voice was dark. She felt it was the only way to honor the Lightwarden’s song, and the pixies in general; playful, yet dangerous to those who didn’t know better. She wasn’t a bard anymore, not in combat; when she was in Doma, she had come across the art of dancing, and had since traded in her bow for a pair of chakrams. Still, she found comfort in singing, in playing her lyre, even if it was to no one but herself. She was so focused on the song, that she didn’t hear footsteps behind her. She wasn’t even aware anyone was behind her until he spoke.

“And here I thought you had abandoned barding, Ahrora Xue.”

Ahrora had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. “You don’t have to address me so formally anymore, G’raha,” she said, turning around. The Crystal Exarch, G’raha Tia, had come up to see her. She was vaguely aware he didn’t need sleep, but she still felt the urge to ask why he was up so late.

“It’s a habit now, I’m sorry,” he said, walking up near her, but not sitting down. “Is that a song you wrote.”

“A song I wrote down, yes,” she said. “It’s Titania’s song… the former Titania’s, rather.” She stood up, holding onto her lyre tightly. “I’m not sure of the name yet… I’ll come up with it later, though.”

“I see,” he said, looking down at the lyre. “I’m sorry I abandoned our promise to teach you how to write sheet music, but you seem to be doing quite well on your own.”

“You didn’t, though,” she said, cocking her head to the side, her braid falling a bit quicker than the rest of her somewhat choppy hair. “You made good on your promise, remember? You taught me the basics, which was enough. So don’t worry about it, okay? Not after… everything.” Indeed, the events of nearly turning into a Lightwarden herself in front of a man who seemed so full of hatred that she was turning, despite absolutely encouraging it, was extremely fresh in her mind, as were the marble scars on the back of her legs, hidden by her jeans.

G’raha seemed to be quiet for a moment. “I… hadn’t forgotten I taught you the fundamentals. But I had promised-”

“You didn’t promise to teach me more than the basics, just that you were saving other lessons for later,” She shrugged. “It’s not ‘later’ yet, but if it makes you feel better, you can still teach me. I’m sure my sheets are only really legible to me and me alone.” Ahrora smiled, and G’raha, for the first time in a couple of days, returned her smile.

“I believe I can make time to do just that.”

#wondroustailsofffxiv #wondrous tails of ffxiv #wondroustailsofffxivWriting #ahrora fantasy 14 #i do feel like i have to put in the disclaimer that It's Not WolRaha when i post abt rora and raha #that is an aroace catgirl and her brother's boyfriend!!!!#i could go into a whole diatribe actually abt how raha didn't connect the dots and realize he was in love w her brother until post 5.3 #and how he REALLY SHOULD HAVE REALIZED IT SOONER YA DINGUS #but that would also involve me going into... it's not crackship bc i don't ship it in the way crackship implies #but i also don't wanna have to go into a tangent on emet's mindset either #ANYWAYS THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY #i'll uh Try to do this :)#so uh *jazz hands* enjoy i think!#the mage writes #this isn't Good i wrote this in a fugue state and barely edited it #just *shoves my skrunky in your face* LOVE HER

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mintythegreencat · 2 years

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Behold the ever-growing discography of Rory “The Sax-Cat” Spratt on Jazz Antifaschistische Records! This is the make-believe recording label that releases my pretend cats’ fake Jazz albums. :) Before we get into the “music,” a few things on the subject of Rory... First, the character was conceived as a recurring antagonist (called “Anarchat”) in a Super Sentai fan series I had begun knocking around in my head during COVID lockdown (judge me not) but then got quickly abandoned once the 2020 election season got underway. The Anarchat character began morphing in two directions: One way into Rory, retaining the same fangs and brash gutterpunkish attitude, and in the other by getting recolored green for Green Party campaign purposes and eventually becoming the person we know and love as Minty. The whole big handful of us here, anyways... Rory’s name comes from my childhood: The Spratts were a friendly neighborhood family on my block growing up, and they had a tomcat called Rory, which I’ve always thought is a great name for a cat. “Spratt” itself has a kinda wiseguy Irish ring to it that I like!

I’m not a musician myself: Like pretty much everyone else I’ve always wanted to be a player and have owned a series of untouched trombones, but I’ve never made the time to practice my horn and improve. There are just too many distractions or I’m too worn-out to do something as repetitive as blowing scales or learn to read musical notes. It IS fun to skip all of that and just mock up album cover art on whatever theme you wanna explore, though. Fifteen years of my adult life were spent working at a public radio Jazz station here in Denver, much of that time spent organizing CDs/LPs, reading liner notes, absorbing the varying vibes that distinguished one particular era / artist / label of the Music from another. It’s a WONDERFUL station by the way; you can listen in great audio quality at their website, www.kuvo.org ...Well! Anyway, a few notes on these three designs...

1) “Bop Nazis Must Die” is a goof on the 1987 Troma flick “Surf Nazis Must Die!″ This particular image of Rory is the first I created of the character early in my “graphic design career” and is still one of my faves... And by “create” I mean I swiped two pieces of clipart a grafted them together using the GIMP graphic-editing program. The tough punkster body in the leather jacket originally housed a young spiky-haired woman, and the snarling cat head was lopped off from a piece of Halloween artwork. I then addes the alto sax and buttons (those are the logos of the Socialist Rifle Association and Industrial Workers of the World.) Rory’s nickname “Worker” is an IWW reference; their members address one another as “fellow worker.” The pic of wise-ass kitty-cat Rory in the corner is the version used as a mascot logo for the Colorado Musicians Union; it too was surgically extracted from Halloween clipart.

2) “Punk Jazz” is a little homage to bass guitarist Jaco Pastorius (1951-87,) a pioneering figure of the Jazz Fusion era (roughly the later ‘60s into the mid ‘80s) and a legendary wildman. The pair of eyes in the background come from the cover art of Jaco’s eponymous debut album (1976, Epic Records,) which is simply a black & white photo of a young man looking you square in the face with an expression that reads “I just KNOW I’m going to blow your mind in just a couple minutes from now.” The painting that dominates the picture is taken directly from the cover of the Weather Report album “Mr. Gone,” with the contrast and color saturation turned WAY up. In case you’re not familiar, Weather Report was a Jazz Fusion supergroup co-led by saxophonist Wayne Shorter and keyboardist Joe Zawinul - Jaco was the bassist in the band from 1976-82. “Punk Jazz” is a Pastorius composition that debuted on “Mr Gone” and the title is an apt description of the person who wrote it! The pic of Rory is composed of five elements: A cats head in profile, a mohawk yanked from the head of a clipart punk (ouch,) a combat boot (doubled) and two different pics of people - one with fists jammed in the pockets of a leather jacket, and another leaning with one (cowboy) boot up against a wall.

3) “The Windy Kitty” refers to two Chicago landmarks: The storied Green Mill Lounge jazz club and Industrial Workers of the World HQ. I was born in Chicago but my family relocated to Denver when I was three YOA and I haven’t returned as an adult. Those are two places I would visit first if I were ever to find myself in town. The two Rory pictures here are both commissioned pieces by different artists: the one in the album pic was done by “Retahensid” and in the lower-right by “BeastOfEuthania.” You should look at their fine work if you’re ever on DeviantArt! In both cases I edited these commissioned pics, as they originally had the character brandishing a big pipewrench, which I was able to replace with tenor saxophones. In the case of the picture in the album cover that’s a straight tenor sax, sometimes called a “stritch.” They’re pretty uncommon and cool!

Well, jeez! Thanks fer taking the time to read all this! Much appreciated, and we’ll do it again soon.

#jazz #jazz fusion #jaco pastorius #weather report #antifascism #anarchism #saxophone #punk #catgirl #anthro #furry

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