#Legitimately though the original is so fucking good

[oatmealaddiction]

Okay but the weirdest thing about the whole "Brotherhood is better you should skip 03" discourse that's become commonplace now, it sort of forgets the world Brotherhood came out in and why you should watch the original Fullmetal Alchemist. When Brotherhood came out, the original Fullmetal Alchemist was one of the most beloved and most watched animes of all time. Brotherhood assumes you the audience have already seen it because of course you have, everyone has seen it, so it skips important information and speeds the story up because it doesn't want to bore you with things you already know. Have you ever wondered "hey why does the first episode of Brotherhood kind of suck, and why am I being introduced to like 50 new characters, and why are they acting like I know what the hell an alchemist is?" It's because Brotherhood thinks you've seen 03.

The first 7 or so episodes of Brotherhood constitute dozens of chapters in the manga, and the first 25 or so episodes of the original Fullmetal Alchemist. The Nina Tucker episode in Brotherhood, in FMA 03 takes up nearly three episodes. Yoki gets a backstory in 03 and it's genuinely one of the best episodes and taken directly from the manga and Brotherhood glosses over it because: duh, you've already seen it. And so if you skip the original you miss out on dozens of really great character building episodes like Ed and Al meeting Hughes for the first time and getting to spend a whole episode helping him free a train from terrorists, or Ed and Roy having a duel that expands on the relationship they have, or episodes where the brothers just help out random people in towns before the major story gets going.

The original also paces itself quite a bit better than Brotherhood and is more in line with the mangas storytelling. In the manga we don't find out about The Gate until nearly two dozen chapters in, and the same goes for the original anime. Like, that's a twist reveal in those stories, and it's weird that the most watched series is the one where they tell you all about The Gate in the first two episodes because they assume you've already seen the original show.

What's more, people don't know that Hiromu Arakawa helped write for the anime while she was still in the middle of writing the manga, and as a result was inspired to write scenes in Brotherhood that the anime did first. That scene of Edward getting impaled by a falling beam? Directly inspired by a similar scene in the original anime. There's a lot of little instances of that and they're great when you can recognize parallels and things in Brotherhood that are direct references to the original anime, but people don't notice any of that anymore. Because the original anime is just an automatic skip these days, and it's a bummer because people don't realize what a giant it was back before Brotherhood was released. They treat it as *bad,* not realizing it was one of the most beloved anime of its time and the problems people take issue with have a lot more to do with personal taste than any kind of actual flaw in the writing. Brotherhood was never meant to dethrone it, and the original anime was always supposed to be part of the viewing experience which is why those first few episodes of Brotherhood are so fast paced. So like, please stop telling people Fullmetal Alchemist 2003 is a skip, or it's bad, or you don't need it because Brotherhood is better. Regardless if you think Brotherhood is better or not, the original wrote Brotherhood's check. It was huge, it was beloved, and Brotherhood is *banking* on the knowledge you've seen all of it and loved it. And trust me when I say there is so much to love about the original series. It's still my favorite branch of the FMA franchise, and it's worth your time, I promise you.

#Fma 03 #FMA #fullmetal alchemist #Fma:b #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #fma brotherhood #Legitimately though the original is so fucking good #The music alone makes it worth the watch #Also the art direction is better fight me #mild spoilers

[no1ryomafan]

Yknow I’m generally someone who could be deemed a outsider because I don’t get involved in a lot of things especially when it comes to unnecessary discourse because even if I have a opinion I usually keep it to myself because for me it’s less worth to get involved in certain debates unless I’m really feeling like choosing violence that day but if there’s one debate where it’ll be two sides fighting and I’m just standing aside like “yep this sure is something” it’s fucking sub v dub debated because I’m the anomaly who watches either like it’s no problem and so many anime fans would find me weird for that- if they didn’t already think it was weird I didn’t care for mainstream stuff.

#meg text #this ain’t even a self conscious thing I was just thinking about it #because i literally swap dub/sub so much with the last show I watched for no reason #I don’t like picking a side in this debate even though sub fans are the more uh- vocal ones #but unless it’s hard or impossible to read captions people should be opened to watch things subbed #because some animes legitimately never get dubbed and this limits yourself from trying stuff #I say I’m more dub leaning though but it legitimately depends on my mood if I watch sub or dub #I originally thought sub was easier for me to watch short stuff and I have to test if I can last watching subs of longer shows #but I remember with fucking kikaider I kept swapping dub and sub like crazy #me: kikaider has a good dub also me: seki as jiro though (<saids as I think Dave was good) #that is my only frame of logic because I can’t use “oh if it’s shorter subs help me more” #bc I watched 01 dub but also more importantly new fucking getter dubbed fine #so much so new ryoma is the only ryoma in my brain I don’t attach hideos too it’s only Lex #I do wanna watch new sub in full one day though but no one somehow uploaded the full subs anywhere?? #like when they are there’s a glitch where they aren’t in the center screen and this show on BLU-RAY how the fuck #new dub is good tho but I get it’s awkward to watch bc it’s also so engrained with Japanese culture #”people in a ancient Japan wouldn't sound like this”-my friends watching it again with me

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Smutty Headcanons

I promised on this LM x Reader post things would get spicy soon, so here we are, coming so far from my first post! Just the first of probably many more smutty Lucifer posts, because we all know this man fucks and we all want a piece.

Warnings: SMUT

- This man legitimately loves everything about eating pussy. He loves performing it, he loves bragging about how well he performs it, he loves giving tips because he believes in respecting the craft, and he loves putting down anyone too entitled to provide what he sees as this most enjoyable of services for one's partner. You don't even have to ask him to go down on you, it'll be one of the first things he offers, and he'll regularly ask if you're interested in letting off a little steam. Having the ability to extend and shapeshift his tongue into having an opposable forked tip makes him capable of techniques beyond your wildest fantasies, and whether you like to receive from above or below, he's equally down to have you seated on his face or laying back to enjoy yourself.

- He's not poorly or overly endowed for a man of his size, but he's also quite literally the one who originally proved that size doesn't matter in the slightest, and he's had thousands of years to perfect those original techniques. From position to tempo, he's mastered everything he needs to hit the G-spot with impeccable accuracy, and his hands will be quite busy seeking out where you most enjoy attention as he rides you with the power and virility of an untamed stallion. All this combined results in a mind blowing time for you, every time, and he's got the stamina to answer all of your repeated requests for another round.

- Nevermind the magic he can work with his tongue or his dick, the King of Hell is also a wizard with his fingers. He's even got a carpal tunnel roller just to keep his dexterity in top shape for when his skills are needed. Finding your clit is effortless for him, and he'll show it all the love he thinks you deserve, responding eagerly to your feedback in the moment and putting his mouth to use on your neck as he does so. Whether you want him inside, outside or both at the same time, he's happy to provide, and he'll gladly push his wrists to the limit if it leaves you properly satisfied.

- If you offer to be the one servicing him, he'll happily accept, and you'll quickly find his mannerisms shift quite considerably when he's on the receiving end. He starts out confident, offering banter to match your own, but as soon as your mouth gets to work, his demeanor changes. A grin becomes an open mouthed moan, his hands tenderly take hold of you to ground himself, and witty quips turn to soft and needy sighs. The more heated things get, the more he loses himself, but it's a great way for you to gauge how well you're performing. Growls and an appearance of his horns are a sign he's really having a good time, especially considering he's always got steam to blow off. Particularly rough days will result in him losing all control by climax; fully extended wings and horns, an unfurled tail he wraps about you, hair disheveled and clinging to a fine layer of sweat, and more than a few reality bending bursts of power surging around the both of you. It's his favorite way to end the day on a good note. He'll pull his fingers from your hair as he breathlessly apologizes for the show, but the both of you know watching him go feral is part of the fun.

- The afterglow is peak cuddle time for him, and he'll be in no hurry to get dressed if there's somewhere either of you needs to be, so more than a few of his duties will end up delayed thanks to post-coital bliss. All six wings will seek you out for a fluffy embrace, and if the two of you are at all winded, the otherworldly softness of Archangel feathers might make staying awake quite impossible. Should you have some energy to spare though, he'll want to actively enjoy the snuggle. Hearing you breathe, feeling his skin against yours, and engaging in pillow talk just make him the happiest little guy. Such moments really allow him to let his guard down, and you might hear him speak with a softness and hopefulness that rarely leaves the bedroom, but he's just as interested in listening as he is in talking. Don't be too surprised if he drifts off with his head in your boobs though.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel imagine #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanons #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar smut #hazbin x reader #x reader #x female reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer smut

[doobean]

SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN - ISAGI YOICHI

synopsis: A quick game of truth or dare goes a long way for you and your boyfriend.

contents: afab!fem!reader, college au, established relationship, mentions of alcohol, parties, the whole college experience, awkward first times, isagi centric, narration heavy throughout, explicit content (he calls you baby, unprotected, virginity loss, fingering, handjob, saddling, clothes stay on!!, finishing inside, a lil bit of aftercare and cuddles), mdni word count: 3.9K a/n: was originally req on my other blog before i dedicated a whole post to it because why not... also idk if its actually called saddling or not but some of these sex positions have weird names so im just gonna call it saddling (u sit in his lap)

It's not Isagi's fault when the topic comes up. Everyone is drinking—like an absurd amount.

On this particular night, they win their last game of the season, and what better way to celebrate than at Reo Mikage's overly lavished-out apartment? Bachira is the first one to suggest a party and, after minimum persuasion, Reo offers up his place. Tonight is also the night that everyone finds out that Reo has a fucking wine cellar. The type of wine cellars with evil-looking spiral staircases that can hold a multitude of foreign wines and hard liquor that Isagi can't even pronounce even if he tries.

And it's also not Isagi's fault when he agrees to play "truth or dare", foolishly thinking that it'll remain PG-13 as if he had forgotten that having Shidou and Bachira around makes everything but PG-13. Everyone is about four shots in when Shidou's tongue starts getting loose and suddenly everyone becomes interested in their teammates' sex lives — specifically Isagi's sex life with you.

So this is how it happens. This is how they get on this ridiculous tangent.

They’re guys, so the shift in conversation comes as no surprise to Isagi. Even though Isagi doesn’t actually have any legitimate interest in said conversation.

"You can't avoid answering by taking shots," Bachira almost slaps the shot glass from Isagi's grasp as he brings it up to his lips. "C'mon, just tell us already, Yoi."

Approximately ten minutes before his turn, Isagi has learned against his will that Shidou has slept with nearly half of the cheerleading team — all while wearing the school’s mascot costume. His best friend, Bachira Meguru, apparently has a slight degradation kink and is secretly a masochist. Reo and Nagi? Shared a few girlfriends between them during the course of high school and freshman year of college. And now it’s his turn.

"Fuck off," Isagi scoots away from Bachira and settles closer to Rin on his right, the only 'normal' one of the group for tonight. "Can we just skip to the next person?"

The whole team is sitting on the living room floor in a circle, each person clutching either a bottle of alcohol or one of Reo's weirdly expensive shot glasses that he says his father had bought from Switzerland. The whole team, minus Rin, also can't seem to let go of the conversation. Almost as if everyone knows the truth and is waiting for Isagi to say it himself.

"Nuh-uh," Reo sloppily points his finger at Isagi and leans slightly forward, almost faceplanting himself on the floor if Nagi hadn't pulled him back in time. "You've been avoiding all the juicy questions tonight, Isagi."

Maybe it's his secretly inflated ego but Isagi likes to think of himself as a good boyfriend. And a good boyfriend should keep all private details... private. Even if there are no details to share.

"You guys are drunk." Isagi points out and nudges an overly tipsy Bachira away with his foot.

Kunigami leans against the couch behind him and throws his head towards the ceiling. "That's the whole reason why we're playing this in the first place."

"So, answer the question, Isagi." Shidou tips his wine bottle back, it's nearly empty, and goes in for another drink. "How often do y'all do it?" He asks with a sly smirk.

Isagi bites his lips, trying his best to look threatening while the red from the alcohol blushes his cheeks. "I'm not answering."

Chigiri huffs from across and jabs Shidou's side. "Just give him a dare instead, this is getting boring."

"Rinnie, give him a good one."

Rin flicks Shidou a seething glare at the nickname but the other male laughs it off. Everyone does because, unlike Rin and Isagi, everyone is currently shitfaced. Still, Isagi can't help but wonder what his long-term rival has up his sleeves. They didn't have the best friendship, but at least they can somewhat acknowledge each other's skills to some degree, even if Rin can be a dick at times.

After what seems to be a long while, Rin speaks up. "I dare you to go home."

He says it so nonchalantly that it makes Isagi almost spit out his drink. "Excuse me?"

Rin repeats it again and Bachira, who's now seven shots in, chimes in. "Oh! So he can fuck his girlfriend, right?"

Rin rolls his eyes, wearing an exasperated expression. "Yeah, sure."

On any other day, Isagi would feel offended but that isn't the first emotion that overcomes him. He feels oddly... relieved? But he can't let the other drunkards know that, obviously. Rin gives him a knowing look and takes another shot.

"Dumbass, are you going to do it or not?"

Tonight's been weird, Isagi thinks. Is his rival looking out for him?

Isagi hesitantly stands up and settles his drink on a nearby tabletop before shuffling towards the front door to grab his gym bag and backpack in the corner. "You guys are losing your minds." He fakes a frown.

"Ugh, you're no fun Rinnie."

"Isagi Yoichi doesn't do shit with his girl, that's all I'm hearing."

"Waah? No, he definitely does! I think?"

He drowns out the background noises as he pulls out his phone and hovers over the Uber app. Hopefully, his teammates will forget about this interaction by tomorrow morning.

And while Isagi knows that it shouldn't matter, he would be lying to himself if he hadn't thought about taking things to the next level with you. Still, he feels like it shouldn't be his choice to decide the pace of the relationship. He's an average student in terms of academic performance and has already secured a spot on the national team before graduation. On the other hand, you're currently studying almost every night to keep your scholarship and aspire to get into graduate school. Isagi would be absolutely floored if he suddenly became a distraction — your distraction.

Which explains why during the course of the six-month relationship the most that you guys have gone far with is second base: makeout sessions and basically anything that's above the waistline.

Instead of heading back to his apartment, Isagi finds himself typing in your campus address into the Uber search bar. He doesn't really know why but maybe the combination of the alcohol and vulnerable conversations tonight really messed something in his weird brain. Your place is pretty close to his, so he can just walk home afterward, and plus he needs to see you to... what? To vent? Maybe that's what he needs.

It didn't take long when he finally arrived in front of your apartment. Most of the alcohol by now has settled down, so hopefully he doesn't look like a mess when he sees you.

Isagi rings the bell. There’s a moment’s silence, then a shuffling, the sound of the door clicking in the lock, and —

"Yoichi?"

Your hair is down and slightly damp as if you had just come out of the shower not long ago. You're wearing one of Isagi's old shirts that he gave you on one of your earlier dates, a large graphic tee featuring a faded-out character from a show he doesn't remember. The shirt hangs barely past your thighs and... Isagi's eyes bug out just a bit because of course you're not wearing shorts. A good deal of your thighs are exposed, and Isagi wonders why he feels so goddamn uncomfortable about that. 

He hears his name again and snaps his eyes up. "S-Sorry, is it late for you?"

Your laugh makes his stomach flip a few times. He knows it's late. It's nearly midnight but you're still making time to talk to him. God, he feels lucky to have someone who's as patient as you.

"You know you're always welcome over, right?" You step aside and motion your arms inside. "Come in, you look like you have a lot on your mind, Yoichi."

Isagi is also grateful that you like to keep the lights off when you study, excluding the tiny desk lamp you have, because the last thing he wants to happen is you making fun of his alcohol-ridden cheeks. He's pretty sure you can smell the tequila from his breath as he thanks you, and also sure that all that weird watermelon-flavored vaping smell from Karasu and Otoya is sticking to his clothes. Because you're the way you are, he knows that you'll offer to wash his clothes because the next thing you say is —

"You smell, Yoichi. And not in a good way!"

Okay, he didn't expect those exact words to fly out of your mouth, but he understands what your intentions are.

Isagi throws his hands up in defense and laughs. "The guys went a bit too hard, I know. Can't exactly help that."

He allows you to remove his jacket and you point toward your drawers. "I think I still have some of your clothes somewhere there. Just throw the rest in the hamper and I'll get to it."

And he does exactly that. Isagi ends up wearing a shirt that he could've sworn he lost forever ago and a pair of boxers that he lets you wear from time to time. It's not unusual for you to have some of his clothes since you guys have made it a tradition to try and have somewhat regular sleepovers on weekends that aren't crammed with football games and practice exams.

Once he hears your in-unit washing machine go off, he walks out and makes himself at home on your couch. It's been a long day, and he knows that he shouldn't extend his stay judging from your bookmarked textbooks and wall of sticky notes of god knows what formulas, but he finds the remote and flips on the television.

Oh, perfect. It seems that the show you two were binging from days ago is still paused.

"Hey," You plop down next to him and curl up to his side. Isagi tries his best to not stare at your thighs. "Wanna tell me what's on your mind?"

Isagi finds his shoulders immediately relaxing at your words and lets his mouth run with a small pout accompanying his lips afterward. "For the record, everyone was drunk so I doubt they would remember tomorrow, but they were pretty nosy about our sex lives."

You blink and tip your head. "Oh, well did you tell them?"

Isagi groans, breaking eye contact, and lifts a hand to his head to rub away the incoming headache. "No, I don't think they'll let go of it if I've told them."

It's stupid and irrational, Isagi knows that for sure. But he really doesn't want his private business being spread around by a bundle of testosterone and egotistical college guys. Not with your name in the mix.

"Then, do you want to change that?" You ask quietly, tugging Isagi out of his thoughts. Your words take him by complete surprise. In fact, that's the last thing he expected you to say. He'd expected more of your usual harmless complaints against his team.

Isagi withdraws back, just enough to see if maybe you're also drunk, but the sobriety of your straight face is enough to convince him that maybe you've gone insane instead. "What? We don't have to do anything just because of the guys. I want you to feel comfortable, you know?"

"I know!" You say in a rush and he flinches at your volume.

He makes out your flustered cheeks with the dim lighting from the television and suddenly you start fidgeting with the hems of your shirt. It's at that moment that Isagi takes note that he's been shamelessly staring at your thighs for god knows how long.

You bury your face into his shoulders as you continue. "Are you bored in our relationship, Yoi?"

Now Isagi is really confused and, frankly, a bit scared. Are you going to break up with him? Or do you think he's going to break up with you?

A free hand cradles your head while the other takes a tight grasp of your hands. Isagi holds you close as he places a longing kiss on your forehead. "Of course not, why on earth would you even think that? Is everything alright?"

He feels your body squirming around for a bit and then a shaky sigh. "We just—we never do anything. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed when you’re around your friends."

Ah shit, that’s where he fucked up.

"Hey, sorry I didn’t mean to come off that way. I’m not ashamed of what we currently do. I just think it’s best to keep things private to ourselves at the end of the day as opposed to sharing it with others." He explains.

"But don’t you ever just wanna do more than making out?"

He blinks and his mouth gapes. "What?"

"All we ever do is make out, you don’t touch me anywhere else but my chest… don't you want to go further?" Your voice lowers significantly at the last bit. 

You’re still not looking to meet his gaze. And you’re actively trying not to because Isagi feels the weight of your head leaning against his body more. He doesn’t push it and instead accepts it. Clearly, this is something that he didn’t foresee. Maybe you’re also like him, uncertain and awkward about bringing up the topic. 

Isagi arranges his face in the most neutral expression, ignoring his thundering heart, before lifting your head off his shoulders. "Then do you want to mess around a bit?"

You answer in a way that makes him melt. Your arms sling around his neck, lips soon finding solitude against his, seemingly not caring if his breath does smell one too many shots of alcohol from earlier. Isagi is taken aback by your sudden boldness and it takes him a moment to register what’s going on before returning the same energy back. A quick swipe from your tongue is all he needs to know that you’ve been touch-starved for too long.

You're straddling his lap now and the boxers Isagi's currently wearing is doing a rather poor job of masking the huge tent that's grinding right against you. He pulls away from the heated kiss, watching in a daze as a trail of salvia connects between you two, and winces when he feels your weight pressing against his length. 

"W-Wait, slow down a bit…" He tries to lift you up but you stay steady in his lap.

Your hands rest on his chest and you shake your head. "I wanna go all the way tonight. Can we do that, Yoichi?" There’s something about the way his name rolls off your tongue that sets Isagi off but he has to make about one thing.

"Are you sure? Like positive?"

And the heat in your gaze holds a clear promise — you want this more than anything.

He tries to lift you up slightly again, and this time you follow along. Isagi feels you flinch under his touch as his calloused fingers trace their way down to your panties, toying with the lace ribbon at the front before slipping underneath the cotton fabric. It’s completely soaked through and the way his index finger easily slides between your folds has you almost crying out in embarrassment. 

“Baby,” Isagi hisses through his teeth as he gets familiar with the foreign gummy walls. “All this for me?”

Your boldness from before seems to have dissipated once Isagi took control. You only sigh in response when Isagi nips at the space between your neck and shoulder. Isagi groans against your skin when you find yourself sinking deeper into his finger from the touch.

“Touch me more, please…” 

Having you this close to him, holding him, spilling out these phrases that he didn’t expect to hear, it’s all too much for Isagi. His lips reconnect with yours again, this time with more force and desperation. Your body shudders and twitches under his palm as he picks up his rhythm, inserting an additional finger and then a third one. 

“Does that feel good, baby? Tell me how you like it.” Isagi pays close attention to the small shifts on your face as he attempts to stretch out your walls bit by bit. “Let me know if it’s too much and I’ll stop.”

You bury your face deep into his shoulders once more. “Don’t stop, it feels really good, Yoichi.” It’s his turn to twitch when he feels a hand palming at his own arousal. “Can I have a turn, too?” You have no idea how much weight your words carry. A simple question like that makes Isagi’s stomach twist in knots.

“Y-Yeah, you can.”

The position is a bit awkward but, eventually, it ends with your hands engulfing around his throbbing length poking out from his boxers while he’s knuckle-deep in your entrance. The slick, wet sounds coming from your folds is the only audible noise in the room, other than your occasional mews and Isagi's muffled grunts as you pump him off.

When his length is embarrassingly covered in his pre, Isagi releases his digits from your warmth. "I'm going to finish at this rate, baby." He breathes out.

You shyly meet his eyes, both of you jolting at the incredibly warm and slippery mess you've created from playing with each other when you line his length against your entrance. "I'm going to put it in, Yoi." Your voice is shaky and your free hand grips his thigh as you slowly descend.

Isagi breathes out a raspy gasp as he watches your heat swallow his length. Seeing his arousal disappear inch by inch is a sight that he’ll burn in his mind forever and, when your walls squeeze around him, it takes everything in his power to not cum right then and there. His hands immediately find home on your hips, thumbs digging into the sides and his digits kneading at the flesh of your ass. You’re tight, hot, and overwhelming all at the same time. The feeling consumes him entirely.

"Fuck," Isagi throws his head back and screws his eyes shut. "Don't move—give me a second."

You moan in return, eyes shifting away from the sight. "Take your time, Yoi."

Isagi lets you cockwarm him for a few seconds, feeling himself slowly calming down as he adjusts to your tight walls and begins to thrust slowly. You don't bother shielding your moans, and it makes things all just a bit harder for him to concentrate.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, only going off of what he’s seen from the occasional porn videos he’s seen. Isagi thinks he’s doing a decent job, even though his mind is going absolutely crazy right now. Your erratic moans are right against his ears and the sounds coming from your warmth are the only things keeping him in check. Isagi’s palms rest steadily on your ass as he continues plundering in and out of your sloppy folds from the couch. It isn’t long before you’re shaking and sweating against him, making your earlier shower completely pointless.

You cry out, over-sensitive and shaky, clenching down on him. Isagi's vision gets hazy and soon he realizes that his eyes are misting over, small pools of tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, threatening to smear his cheeks. He'd never expected something like this can render him so weak.

Your voice grows hoarse from the volume you're emitting and Isagi hopes you don't receive a noise complaint from your neighbors tomorrow. He leans forward, helpless to let your cries go unanswered, and smothers the noises with his mouth. Your ass meets every thrust he pushes forward and feeling the familiar heat building up in his stomach, Isagi knows he isn't going to last that much longer.

One of his hands snakes up your shirt and cups one of your breasts, toying with your nipple, while the other hovers over your clit. He feels your entire body trembling, chest heaving, and walls throbbing all around him. "Yoichi, it's too good...!"

"Hold out just a bit longer, baby." Isagi's thumb begins circling your bud and it's the final push for you. Your mouth tilts forward, hips bucking and grinding, and you squeeze him so tight that he doesn't have the time to pull out, coating your walls with his white mess. Everything feels hot like fire spreading across his entire body.

Once he feels your body slack against his, he snaps out of his thoughts and immediately pulls out, grimacing at the sheer amount of cum that flows out of you.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I'll run to the store tomorrow morning, baby." His breathing is labored but he still manages to press his lips to your forehead, and he inhales. "You did amazing."

"Mhmm," You make a vague noise that sounds like a bit like acknowledgment to his ears.

Isagi loosens his arms around your body, shifting your figure to sit up by the edge of the couch, and waddles to the bathroom to fetch a damp towel. When he returns, your eyes are half-lidded and you look like you're one second away from passing out from exhaustion. He's not sure if it's from the sex or that you probably stayed up all day studying.

When the sounds of his footsteps come closer, you peer up and lock eyes, taking his breath away. "Will you stay the night?" And he almost laughs on the spot.

"I'm not gonna do a hit and run, baby. You really think I'm doing that?"

He removes your ruined panties and cleans up the cum running down your inner thighs. After fetching you a set of new underwear, he finds the last of his strength for the night and scoops you up, moving only a few feet to the comfort of your twin-sized mattress. Isagi tucks you in slightly, leaving enough room for him to slide in when he changes into a new pair of bottoms.

"You're too nice to be an ass, I guess." You reply, tracing small patterns onto his chest.

He slings an arm over you, pulling you closer, and lets one of your legs rest over his stomach. "Hey, I can be mean when I want to!" Isagi shoots back.

Your chuckles send vibrations down his chest. "So, are you going to tell your friends about tonight?"

"Fuck no," Isagi presses another kiss to your head again and tightens his grip around you. "I don't even want to know what they do with that information." There's a pause and he blinks. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

You stay quiet for a while and Isagi groans, knowing the exact person you were going to text when the opportunity arrives. "Just Rin! You know that we're best friends, right?"

Ugh, he doesn't really want his rival to know about his sex life but he can't exactly stop you from talking about these types of things to your childhood friend. Isagi rubs circles into your back and pouts slightly. "Keep the details to a minimum."

"No promises, Yoichi." But he knows that you're only joking. And even if you did spew all the details to Rin, at least Isagi can sleep peacefully at night knowing that the other male minds own his business.

A yawn escapes from your lips and you snuggle deeper against his body. "Do you have a busy day tomorrow?"

"Nah, everything's pretty much wrapped up for me." He responds, feeling the fatigue catching up as well. "Did you want me to stay over again tomorrow?"

"Only if you promise to add a pack of condoms to the shopping list."

He smiles, jotting down the mental note before shutting his eyes. "Anything for you, baby."

another note: hehe ty for making it this far!! idk why i named it seven minutes in heaven bc it has nothing to do w the game but lets just say the whole sex experience lasted seven mins bc that's p normal for first time ig??

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x female reader #bllk x female reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi smut #bllk smut #blue lock smut #first one shot post that isnt sae or rin #dedicated to our sweet boy isagi #and its smut #🪐 anon #this one is for u!! #srry it took a while hehe #doobean writes

[phoenixyfriend]

That one post about great domestic policy and HORRIFIC foreign policy just does not stop being true

Domestic Policy Win: The American Museum of Natural History in NYC is closing down two entire exhibits of Native American belongings in order to comply with a federal order that requires museums to obtain the consent of indigenous nations in order to display artifacts of native origin. The linked ProPublica article specifies that the exhibits in question are the Eastern Woodlands and Great Plains Halls. To quote:

The new federal regulations, which went into effect this month, prohibit the display of items subject to NAGPRA without tribal consent and ban all research done without tribal consent. In addition, the regulations closed a loophole that had allowed museums such as the American Museum of Natural History to keep ancestral remains and burial items by claiming that they are “culturally unidentifiable” — meaning in their view they could not be connected to present-day Indigenous communities based on available evidence — and therefore could not readily be returned to tribes.

Foreign Policy Fail: The United States, the UK, and several other nations, in response to claims that several members of UNRWA were involved in the Oct. 7th attacks, have cut funding to the relief agency in question. The Al Jazeera article profiles the Palestinian response, and also specifies that this funding was pulled after the UNRWA launched an investigation in response to Israel's allegations that 12 members of the relief agency were involved.

Australia, Canada, Italy and the United States said they would halt funding to the agency, while European Union foreign policy chief Josep Borrell said the 27-member bloc would “assess further steps and draw lessons based on the result of the full and comprehensive investigation”. Germany, Finland, the Netherlands and the United Kingdom then also joined the list of countries pausing financial aid to the UN agency, whose facilities where displaced Palestinians sought shelter have been repeatedly attacked in Israeli air raids. Ireland and Norway, however, expressed continued support for UNRWA, saying the agency does crucial work to help Palestinians displaced and in desperate need of assistance in Gaza. - Al Jazeera

"One million displaced people are currently taking refuge in and around UNRWA buildings. They are the ones who will suffer as a result of this decision," said Mr Gunness, adding: "The curtailing of UNRWA services will also destabilise the region at a time when Western governments are trying to contain a regional conflagration." [...] The US, Germany and the EU are among some of UNRWA's biggest donors. - BBC

Unfortunately, the WSJ article is paywalled, so I can't access the full thing for a quote.

Anyway. Call your reps. I'm not even talking to just the Americans this time, call your fucking reps. If they aren't donating to UNRWA, then make them do something. Is the organization possibly a security risk, and the concerns legitimate? Maybe! But you cannot cut the funding that is keeping 2.3mill people alive on an already shoestring budget and not immediately put a backup security net in place.

Until then, pick a charity with a good rating, donate and signal boost it, and politely harass your politicians.

Politely as in "don't shout at or cuss out the staffers that man the phone lines," because they are not your reps, but also because your number is going to get blocked and then you won't be able to pressure them in the future. Do be firm, though.

I'm personally picking the PCRF this time, since one of the three remaining hospitals in south Gaza has been evacuated and shut down, and the evacuees reportedly include women who just got C-sections, which means the evacuees also include newborns, and medical care is in high demand. They're also currently focused on providing clean drinking water to the people of Palestine. That said, so is food, and shelter, and winter clothing. Pick a need, find a charity, and toss them some money.

#yes this was mostly my way of guiding people to charity sites again. and pushing you to push your reps #current events #united states #indigenous peoples #palestine #israel #gaza #death tw

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - A Sean Wallace/OFC Story.

I couldn't wait to share this with you, besties. Here, have the first chapter! I know that Sean is pretty niche as he doesn't seem to have all too huge a fandom, but if I can garner a few readers, and you guys could help me out by reblogging this, I would be very appreciative. Commentary is very welcome, as usual, so yes, dive on in and hopefully enjoy! If you like it enough, you can have chapter two sooner rather than later, too :)

The story begins seven years in the past, but will then run semi-canon to the Gangs of London plot and timeframe.

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 3,826

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

May 24th, 2016. 

Coffee, the financial times and resounding quiet. These were the defining components needed for Finn Wallace to begin each day within the spatial surroundings of his corner office, the floor to ceiling windows offering the widest view of the city he ruled over with an iron fist.  

“Mr Wallace, please. Sir...”  

The words of Minnie, his secretary, delivered outside of his office with mildly pleading desperation tore his attention from fastidiously studying the FTSE 100, Finn looking out from above the pink sheets of paper. He witnessed her scurrying along, her eyes pleading while trying to match the long strides of his son as he approached. “You know your father doesn’t like to be bothered...” 

...between the hours of eight and nine. He needed a full hour with nothing but a newspaper and a good supply of anything that came from Whittard of Chelsea prior to starting his day. His son had other ideas that morning, though.  

Placing his coffee down, he lifted his chin as Sean strode through the doors, a heap of paperwork within his grasp.  

“One print off of the e-contract signed late last night by Kevin Cavanagh, and one verbal assurance that the vessels may port within his dock space for the original agreed amount.” The paperwork hit the desk so hard, it was almost splashed in coffee, Sean looking thoroughly pleased with himself. As he should, his father thought. Kevin had been extremely tricky in this, his son’s first solo deal for the company. 

Reaching for the contract, Finn could scarcely believe it, but there it was. K. Cavanagh. Signed, sealed and delivered. “How the fuck did you swing that, boyo?” 

Kevin Cavanagh had shown himself to be a rather large thorn in the side of the Wallace empire for weeks, the investor digging his heels in over their proposed deal, an influx of two hundred million sterling into the company’s legitimate holdings to fund the proposed apartment complex they wished to build, and a grant of passage for boats containing large shipments of heroin porting from Pakistan to enter his docks.  

The terms and conditions set by Sean had been made clear, but having the upper hand in it all, Kevin had gone back on their proposed arrangement out of sheer greed. It had not gone down well at all. Especially since Finn considered Kevin to be a long-standing friend as well as a business associate. He wasn’t about to involve himself, though. It was Sean’s deal, and he had to learn in going it alone, friend or not. 

In their world, though, alliance and friendship were subject to change at any given moment. Friendships aside, Sean had been advised by his father to do whatever it took to secure the deal by the required deadline, which had passed at midnight the night before. 

Looking upon his son expectantly, Finn was under no illusion over Sean’s self-satisfied pride in his achievement. His poise did not slip, though. Not even for a second. “I have my ways, all of them effective.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “How?”  

His son smirked, the same bloody smirk he’d had since he was three, back when he’d usually hoodwinked his mother into the offering of a second reach into the biscuit tin. “If you knew that, then you’d know as much as me.” 

Finn felt himself losing patience at his allusivity, but couldn’t quite keep the grin from spreading across his face. “Wiley little shit.”  

He chuckled, checking his watch. “I have a meeting to get to. Lunch at The Strand, 1pm? I have a table booked. See you then.” 

“If I’m late, order my usual.” Looking over the contract once again, Finn rested his chin upon the pinch of his thumb and forefinger. If he’d gotten a result without them having to yield to Kevin, it surely didn’t matter how Sean had procured the deal.  

As time would tell, though, it would.  

Striding from the building, Sean climbed into the waiting car, ready to be whisked across London for a viewing on another apartment complex currently under construction. It would take up most of his morning, but such was the nature of his role within the company. Build big, reap big, remain on top. 

Leaning back against the plush leather upholstery within the black Mercedes, Sean winced, feeling the soreness that remained from his weekend of sexual hedonism. Clawed scratches marking the freckled alabaster of his back from his shoulders right to the rounded muscles of his arse had certainly felt good at the time, but now the scabbed wounds stung and itched.  

That itching sting was experienced internally, too, a rolling wave of cold discomfort washing over his insides once again. Guilt. Maybe even a little remorse. Who’d have thought it? Certainly not him. He had previously considered those emotions to be completely superfluous, with a nature such as his, and most definitely not when his actions had reaped such rewards.  

Sean was, if nothing else, completely ruthless in the pursuit of attainment.  

His go to in attaining a desired result didn’t always equal the exertion of moral turpitude, but in this instance it very much had. There was no going back on it either. He had struck out, used his bargaining chip of blackmail and garnered the desired results. At twenty-five years old, he’d thought himself perhaps above the actions he’d resorted to, considering his bartering and negotiation skills to be proficient enough.  

They hadn’t been.  

However, Sean knew that blackmailing Kevin Cavanagh into agreement by threatening to upload a video to the internet of himself fucking his eighteen-year-old daughter would work like a charm in securing a signature, and it had.  

He’d understandably been beyond livid with him, after receiving an edited version of the hour-long filming, showing just enough for Kevin to know that Catherine would be subjected to great personal embarrassment and emotional anguish if he didn’t comply.  

With his arm figuratively bent up his back, he had agreed, the money immediately transferred, and the contract signed the evening before, once he and his wife had returned from their weekend away. Kevin had also struck a permanent black mark against the son of his old friend, knowing that Finn likely had no part in the blackmail. As chillingly cutthroat as he could be, it wasn’t his style. Words would be had, though, and Sean knew he likely had that coming to him sooner or later.  

Just as he would when Catherine caught up with him. He highly doubted Kevin wouldn’t tell her. 

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, placing his earbuds in and locating the video he had promised to delete. He’d been hesitant there, not because he intended to nefariously make good on his threat and upload it anyway, he had no cause to. The reason behind his stalling was much more complex, and not one he was in a hurry to admit. Not even to himself.  

Hearing her sweet moans as he watched himself on the screen, face buried between her legs, a jolt ran right through him. He could almost still taste the sweet honey of her cunt on his tongue, feel her skin against his, and with a shift in his seat, experience her nails clawing at his back.  

It was only ever meant to happen once. Once had led to an entire weekend, and there it was again, the unpleasant sting rolling through his guts as he closed his eyes and remembered it. Remembered her.  

Her... her. 

It was only ever meant to happen once... 

St Augustine’s Grammar School for Girls was one of the most exclusive private Catholic schools in the entirety of London. For an eye watering yearly fee, it boasted unsurpassed examination results, a sterling OFSTED record, and much to the fury of the young ladies within its prestigious halls, a strict code for uniform. A black skirt to the knee, high black socks, a white shirt and a navy blazer and tie.  

Even the students attending the adjoining sixth form college had to still adhere, much to their loathing. For Catherine Cavanagh, as soon as she was out of the front gates with her friends, adjustments were made.  

Her neatly pleated skirt was rolled over a few times to hitch it up, her folded over socks pulled up until they came over the knee, her blazer and tie stuffed into her bag and her shirt undone to reveal a little of the black lace bra she wore beneath, as well as being knotted at the waist. She liked to show off some of what she had. 

Lashings of smoky black eyeliner were applied, her lips liberally glossed and her shoulder length blonde waves all shook free of their ponytail prison before she sauntered away, ready for a coffee with her friends, of whom also made similar adjustments to their own uniforms. They were young women at eighteen, all mildly incensed that they still had to stick to the rules of their frigidly stalwart school.  

Catherine, or Rin as she preferred to be called, was far from frigid.  

“Oi darlin’! Fancy gettin’ in the back of me van and lettin’ me give ya one, eh?” 

Ugh. Builders. The worst of the worst for shouting pervy obscenities from the open window of a slowed down Ford Transit. She immediately rolled her eyes. “No thanks, but I fancy giving you this.” Raising her middle finger, her confident smirk grew, her friends cheering on her usual chutzpah.   

“Fuck you, then! Little slag!” 

Rin snorted. “You wish, mate.”  

“I don’t get it,” Rashida, her bestie mused, fiddling with her necklace as she cocked her head. “He wanted to shag you five seconds ago, and now you’re a slag because you didn’t take him up on his offer?” Her face was a picture of bemused disgust as she barked a laugh. “Wanker.” 

“Yeah, sums him up. Right, let’s hit the coffee house. I’m fucking gasping for something strong, hot and foamy.” 

Their friend Carly couldn’t help but pipe up, laughing at her own joke before she’d even spoken it aloud. “What, you want the big fella from Game of Thrones in a bubble bath? What’s his name?” 

“Tormund,” Rin confirmed, her eyes dreamy. “You know I’m weak as fuck for a redhead!”  

While the prospect of Kristofer Hivju, the actor who played the aforementioned character awaiting her in a bubble bath was preferred, it was a double shot cappuccino she needed most at that moment. After a day of hard studying for her ongoing A Levels, Rin needed the coffee like air. For no other reason than to stay awake for the duration of her journey home.  

She wouldn’t be driving, though. Yet to pass her test, she would simply call for a driver in the employment of her father to collect her when she was ready. Being rich certainly had its perks. Entering the coffee shop a ten-minute walk from the school gates, she paid for her order and stood back to wait, sensing someone behind her before a familiar voice spoke into her ear. 

“I am unsure whether your mother would approve of that skirt, young lady.”  

Turning, her eyes widened. “Bloody hell! Hello!” It had been at least five years since she’d seen Sean Wallace other than fleeting moments in passing, the last proper time being when he was home from university in his final year. The occasion had been when her parents had thrown a garden party for her father’s friends and closest business associates, plus their families.  

“How are you, darling?” He drawled smoothly, kissing her cheek as they exchanged a brief hug. “It’s been a bloody age.” Looking down upon her, his gaze was nothing but clearly appreciative, thinking just what a beautiful young woman she’d become. In fact, beautiful was an understatement; she was an absolute knock out.  

In any other circumstance, Catherine Cavanagh would be his perfect match. She came from a similar family, steeped in criminality and staggeringly wealthy, with the best education money could buy, just as he himself had received. They were cut from the exact same cloth, she and Sean. This was not an exercise in procuring the perfect match long-term, though. Far from it.  

“It has, I was just thinking that myself,” she confirmed as they parted, feeling a little flustered. Oh, how she’d always fancied the arse off Sean. She might have been extremely confident for an elder teen, much more woman than girl in that respect, but still. Sean was the bloody holy grail as far as she was concerned. “As for me, up to my eyes in all things A Levels, only two more exams left and then its fingers crossed I do well enough to take the provisional place I’ve been offered at LSE.” 

He remembered that the London School of Economics had been her long-term goal from the last time he’d spoken to her at length, back when she was just a kid of thirteen. “I remember you telling me, yes. Forgive me, but I forget just what it is you were aiming for?” 

A flutter delighted her insides at that, how he hadn’t forgotten her desires to attend LSE when it had been so long since they’d last talked in depth. She’d thought he’d merely been entertaining her thirteen-year-old self and her long-winded plans for her future, but no. He’d actually listened. Then again, he was always very attentive when engaging with someone, no matter who they were. “BSc in mathematics, statistics and business.”  

“I bet your father is very proud,” he commented, Rin turning to pick up her coffee.  

“Well, I suppose he will be if I actually pull it off and attain the necessary grades. It’ll stand me in good stead for taking over the family business too, when he eventually retires.” They were birds of a feather in that respect, both primed to one day sit at the helm of their respective family empires. “Speaking of which, how are things with you? You’re doing very well at the Wallace Corporation, according to dad.” 

“Your father is correct, I am.” He was still very sure of himself. Anyone else would call it arrogance, but Sean was merely infectiously confident. He knew what he wanted, and he went right after it, Rin completely oblivious to the fact that his cool blue eyes were directly focused upon his present target. “Long hours and probably less pay than I should be garnering, but I must confess to be doing rather well for myself. Especially considering I have only been there just over four years.” 

They eventually became so lost in their catch-up chatter that Rin completely failed to realise that her friends had moved to a table, turning to see them wave at her. The looks on their faces spoke volumes. 

“I’ll be there in a sec,” she assured them, praying Carly didn’t open her mouth. No such luck. 

“No, no,” the girl herself chirped right on cue, waving her hands gently in Rin’s direction. “You stay there with your fancy man; we’ll be over here when you’re ready!” 

“Oh, shit off!” she chided, feeling her cheeks burn. Turning to Sean, she shook her head. “They’re embarrassing as fuck.” 

“I can’t say I’m embarrassed, being labelled as your fancy man.” Pulling out a seat, he gestured to it with a flirtatious smile, ensuring her heart virtually catapulted against her ribcage. She definitely blushed furiously at that. Ahh, it was almost too easy, but then again Sean’s charm was legendarily flawless. Being well spoken, powerful, and as dangerous as he was gorgeous didn’t hurt either.  

A red-haired bad boy in a Balmain suit. If Rin had a type at all in this world, it was Sean Wallace. And boy, how the man himself saw that loud and clear.  

“So, I hear your parents are away in France right now?” 

“Yes,” Rin confirmed, the smidgen of envy in her voice clear. How she would have loved a long weekend in the French Alps skiing, too. “They’ll be hurtling down a mountain right now, while I’m stuck here in dreary London, slogging my guts out all in the name of revision.” 

He smirked, picking up his espresso and sipping it. Sean liked his coffee one way; strong and black. “Ah, but you do get Mulford Hall all to yourself for the weekend. Quite the party palace, one would assume.” 

She crinkled her nose, shaking her head. “The staff will grass me up if I even so much as open a can of cider with more than four friends in attendance. Mother dearest likes to keep her fucking tabs on me.” Rin didn’t dislike her mother, but it was no secret that she was daddy’s girl through and through. If he had his way, he’d have arranged for the antiques to be removed from banquet hall and allowed she and her friends run wild. Diane was not quite so lenient.  

Yes. A banquet hall. The Cavanagh’s were truly that wealthy, to have such in their fifteen-bedroom, eighteen-bathroom, sprawling abode located in Westminster, just around the corner from Hyde Park. Half of their sprawling gardens backed onto the park itself, in fact.  

Mostly, Mulford Hall was used as a successful wedding and events venue, half of the house sectioned off as a private family residence and inaccessible to the public, also being a historical location of interest for tourists. It had been in her family for centuries, gifted to one of her ancestors, the very first Lord Mulford by King Charles I. Now with no elder male heir and her grandparents having passed on, it remained in the family by the residing Lady Mulford, her mother. 

“I suppose the little ones would have plenty to say, even if the staff did keep schtum.” Oh yes, Sean was correct there. Her younger brother and sisters would likely relish in telling on her to their parents. Keeping secrets that did not directly benefit them was not in the interests of your average twelve, ten and nine year old children. “I mean, if they could even hear the sounds of partying. Does your mother not keep them in a turret or similar?” 

She snorted laughing into her coffee, spraying a fine mist of foam from the large cup, “Shut up, you shit. You know we’re not that grand.” Suddenly, she felt the cold wave of discomfort when he frowned, wondering if she’d pushed it a little in calling him a shit, even in tease. After all, they did not know each other beyond the boundaries of acquaintance. It was their parents who were friends, not them.  

He then reached, wiping a fleck of foam from her cheek, the corners of his mouth upturning as he watched her blush, leaning across the table. “It takes a brave person to refer to me as a shit.” 

Regaining her confidence, she licked her top lip, shrugging lightly. “Or a gobby little twat such as myself.” 

She was a pistol. He enjoyed that perhaps more than he should have. He laughed softly through his nose, sipping his coffee again as she continued. “I actually have the place to myself, staff aside. The nanny has taken the little terrors to Legoland for the weekend, and there aren’t any weddings on, so I’m enjoying pottering around the old pile in my pants.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Just your pants?” 

“I like to give the gardeners something nice to look at.” 

God, and how nice her body was, he wagered, his eyes sweeping her momentarily. “I bet you do.”  

Lust. Lust delivered from behind full, long auburn lashes tinged with gold, eyes that burned like cool fire as he stared her dead in the eye, Rin feeling as if she was caught in a searchlight she could not avoid. Not that she’d want to. Being illuminated by the desire of Sean Wallace was something she’d only ever fantasised about as a girl. As a young woman, acting upon it now seemed within her grasp. 

And grasp for it she would. “You’re thinking about me in nothing but my pants, aren’t you?”  

Playful, yet direct. He liked that, liked that she was so easily wandering right into the jaws of his trap with such little effort. “I am.”  

She leaned closer, watching him retrieve a packet of mints from his pocket, placing one into his mouth. The way he so effortlessly pressed the white disc onto his tongue made her shiver, imagining the skill a mouth that clever and effortlessly cool might possess. He offered the packet, but she shook her head, the strongness of Trebor’s finest too much for her delicate tastebuds. “What else are you thinking?” 

He mirrored her, leaning near, eyes fixed unblinkingly as he ran his fingertip in a circle over the back of her hand. It was an action that made every single hair upon her arm stand on end. “I’m thinking that the next thing I want on my tongue is you.”  

Fireworks exploded in her chest and gut, a fizz of excitement glittering. Unexpected afternoon sex; it was a proposal most definitely to her liking. “Where’s closer, mine or yours?” 

“Mine,” he confirmed, rising from his seat as he pulled out his phone. “Westminster is a fucking ball ache of a drive at this time in the day.”  

He wasn’t wrong. While Sean called his driver, giving him the name of the coffee shop, Rin made a phone motion to her friends while mouthing ‘I’ll call later’, Rashida and Carly looking as alert as two meerkats keeping the watch at seeing their friend leave with the handsome young mystery man.  

Rashida couldn’t help the joke she made. It was too uncanny. “Little slag.” 

“Love you too, you knob.” Leaving to the sound of her friend's laughter, Rin joined Sean at the side of the curb, only waiting a few moments for the sleek, black Mercedes to pull up before them. He opened the door for her, Rin sliding in and moving across so he didn’t have to walk around, Sean climbing in and shutting the door with a soft clunk.  

“Home please, Tony.” he spoke to the driver, his eyes remaining ahead. She turned slightly to view him, feeling somewhat uneasy when he didn’t return her glance. Dropping her gaze, her thoughts began to race a little, jumping slightly when after a few moments, she felt his hand press to her thigh.  

It was a plan of effortless execution, Sean tracking her movements from afar for a few days prior, learning her daily routine. It truly had been as simple as turning up at her regular coffee shop prior to her usual time of arrival, turning on the charm and reaping the rewards. Leaning close, his beard tickled her earlobe, sending a thrill right through her. “I can’t wait to put my mouth between these fantastic legs of yours.”  

Neither could she.

#sean wallace #sean wallace fanfiction #sean wallace smut #gangs of london #gangs of london fanfiction #joe cole #sean wallace x ofc #sean wallace fanfic #sean wallace fic #gangs of london fanfic #gangs of london fic

[revenantghost]

When is round 2 of the book club being planned for?

So the original plan was to wait until Overhaul 2.0 started releasing and then we would follow along with that, however! I've had a lot of people say that they were sad that they missed the first bookclub, and with how long Overhaul 2.0 will be (one chapter a week), I think doing an earlier one with the one volume a week format might be best.

I'm thinking two options: 1. We start late May to build up to the Dark Horse deluxe omnibuses hopefully starting to release in September. 2. We start in September to, y'know, start reading along with the omnibus releases (though we'll obviously be reading faster than that--tbh, I could theoretically run a round three leading up to the final volume coming out).

Shit kinda hit the fan in my life over the past few days (so much health garbage, house hunting is hell on planet earth, and my mom's cancer markers just shot back up after a couple years of remission), so I'm leaning toward starting in September. But if anyone else has any thoughts, definitely let me know! I fucking adore Trimax and legitimately would start bookclub the second tomorrow if I thought it was possible or a good idea

#Ask #Trigun #Trigun Maximum #Trimax #TrigunBookclub #Sorry for rambling so much #Brain is super groggy today #Hopefully this makes sense #eldritchneuro

[nono-bunny]

Here's something to consider: Do you think Bryke were kicked out of Netflix's LA ATLA because they were toxic during the whole set? I saw an article on Instagram saying they were fired because they were unproductive, hard to deal with, and were rude most of the time. I sincerely BELIEVE that this is what happened to cause them to leave, because of how you heard all of Mike's jerk ramblings on things (Zutara) and how he and Bryan were praised for the show. I'm thinking Bryke couldn't handle the criticism and Netflix wanted something different to the story but still wanted to keep the story of Avatar intact. Which makes you think...what could make Bryke so adamant about not wanting to change anything? Was it scenes, moments...relationships? Ever since the trailer came out, everything looks fantastic. So WHAT could be so different that made Bryke act like the way they did?

Something to think about. ;)

Thank you for the ask, some interesting points here!

So first of all, I haven't really been active on Instagram since they killed the chronological feed a couple of years ago, so I obviously have no clue what the article you're talking about is and how true it is, but. Yeah, I'd believe that lol, wouldn't be in any way out of character for what I've heard of them and for the rep they've built up over the years

As much as the guests on the podcast are constantly talking about how good at managing the show they were, you also get a very real sense of how rigid they actually are in terms of listening to other people's ideas when they go against their initial ones, even if they would make the show better. Something that really stood out to me is how many times other people are credited for all of the best parts of the show- Zuko's arc being great had nothing to do with them, Iroh's personality was different from what they initially wanted, Toph being a blind girl rather than a huge dudebro (I don't remember if he was also blind or not but like. Regardless they weren't the ones to come up with the Toph we know and love at all)... All of these are things that they've basically admitted to be changes proposed by other people, which they initially resisted. Like!!! They legitimately cannot take the credit for the show's best parts, because they're shit writers- but they have a massive ego because they've been constantly getting praise for shit they didn't do for years. Genuinely they sound like nightmares to work with!!! The cavalier way they dismiss people all the fucking time whenever they disagree with them is just. Really weird for show creators imo, and the way they keep milking the franchise even though they've long since run out of any good ideas- or, really, the ability to execute them in a way that works... Those two fuckers barely worked on anything else worth remembering/noting, so they just keep coming back to the thing that worked once and wondering why they can't get it to work again- and the answer is that they were never the reason why it worked, and they refuse to accept that

As much as I love the original show, it's also incredibly flawed and imo needed many many changes to be deserving of the perfect image it seems to have, and like? I'm genuinely hoping that the changes Netflix make are along those lines rather than like... Sensationalizing it with gratuitous violence or whatever. Zutara would be great, obviously, but... Yeah mostly I just don't want Kataang, and like. I'm being 100% serious when I say that I'm gonna wait for other people to watch the show first so I know if it happens or not, because if it does- I'm just not gonna bother with it.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #anti bryke #atla critical #anti kataang #zutara

[firstofficerwiggles]

Mirror sex with Sith!Obi Wan thots 😏😏

Imagine him growling, how beautiful you look for him, telling you to look at yourself being so beautiful for him.. 😍

Bestie, I love this idea so much and because I need plot with my porn I got way to into this idea complete with a bad boyfriend and a very understanding Sith Lord boss. Enjoy!!

Pairing: Sith Obi-Wan Kenobi x female reader

Rating: Explicit/Mature 18+

Word count: ~3300 (Sith Obi-Wan demands adequate description of his prowess)

Warnings: SMUT! Besides being very, very smutty, this also has a warning of body issues and insults about physical appearance (not from Sith Obi-Wan though, he may be devilish, but he would never insult his sweetheart). 

Note: Look for totally legitimate reasons, Sith Obi-Wan has a full length mirror in his office. He needs to look his absolute best before he struts down the Imperial hallways.

Lord Kenobi looks through the new transparisteel wall that divides his main office from the exterior one where you, his personal assistant, sit at your desk, toiling away through countless forms and files on his behalf. The remodel to the office was intended to let more light in the suite of rooms that make up his offices, but it comes with the bonus of allowing him to observe you more easily. It’s become his favorite pastime, sitting here and imagining what it would be like to have you in all the ways that he truly desires. You’re so beautiful, so captivating, and so submissive to him. You’re the best assistant he’s ever had. It thrills him the way you put so much effort into pleasing him. 

This evening he watches you hard at work, your face with that adorable visage of concentration, your fingers moving deftly over your workscreen, your lips making that kissable pout as you reconsider a calculation, and the way they curl into a smile as you figure out the issue and resolve it. He watches you stand and stretch. He loves the way your uniform hugs your curves. He ogles your breasts as they strain against the fabric of your tight jacket. He’s about to call you into his office with some excuse just so he can talk to you, when your comm chirps signaling an incoming holo message. A blue image of a handsome lieutenant flashes up from the screen, making Lord Kenobi frown.

You look at the time in shock when the call from your boyfriend comes in. It’s late in the day, about an hour past when you had originally planned to leave. 

“Hello, Tyler, I’m sorry, I know what you’re going to say, I just got caught up here,” you try to explain. You drop back into your chair to talk to him.

“I’ve been waiting here at the restaurant for over 15 minutes,” he remarks, his voice icy, “Did you forget we had plans? Did Lord Kenobi invent some reason to keep you after hours again?”

“No, I know, and I’m sorry,” you apologize again, “It’s just that some last minute changes came in for Lord Kenobi’s budget and I needed to make sure all the numbers were correct right away. He didn’t even ask me to do it, I just wanted to get it done.”

“It’s always the same with you. Perfect Lord Kenobi is all important. I thought this time you’d make an exception, put me first for a change,” Tyler admonishes you, “You know how I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“What are you talking about, you just made the reservations yesterday,” you reply, “I didn’t think this was a special occasion.”

“What does it matter if it is a special occasion or not? You always chose him over me,” Tyler accuses.

“Tyler, Lord Kenobi is my boss, technically, he’s your boss too or have you forgotten?” you ask. You’re tired of this argument, tired of Tyler’s jealousy over Lord Kenobi and your work. 

“Just because he’s your boss doesn’t mean you need to simper and scrape for him the way you do. It’s sickening,” he tells you angrily, “It’s like you think if you can show him what a good girl you can be for him, he’ll deign to fuck you.” 

You gasp in response to that statement.

“Tyler! Watch your mouth! He might hear you!” You should never have taken this call.

“You’re not even denying it this time, are you?!?” Tyler yells, 

“Tyler, why are you being like this? I’m just a little late, if I leave right now, I can be there in about 10 minutes,” you try another tactic to try to defuse the situation.

But Tyler has worked himself up into a snit, “Just admit it already, that’s what you want isn’t it, to fuck your boss? Or have you already been screwing him behind my back?”

“Tyler, please don’t be like this,” you implore him, “You know I’ve been faithful to you.”

“Only because Lord Kenobi would never be interested in a nobody like you. You could drop your panties right in front of him and he’d turn up his nose in disgust. I’ve seen the women he fucks, they’re gorgeous. There’s no way someone as plain and ugly as you could even tempt him.” Tyler has gotten nasty now.

“Tyler, how can you say that to me?” Your voice shakes with emotion as hot tears spill over your cheeks. 

“It’s the truth, I’m done with you, you’re pathetic, go snivel to your precious Lord Kenobi, ugly bitch,” Tyler gets in one more pot shot before cutting the transmission. 

You’re crying harder now, shocked that Tyler could say something so awful to you. You know he’s been somewhat suspicious of Lord Kenobi for a while now, but you’ve always been able to set his mind at ease before. You’re sorry you ever admitted having a little crush on your superior officer, not that you ever dreamed something would come of it. You didn’t realize just how much Tyler had taken it to heart and let his jealousy grow. You’re scouring your purse for a tissue or something to dry your tears, when a soft linen handkerchief is held up in front of your face. 

You look up to see the concerned face of your boss, and wordlessly you take the cloth from him. Your face is burning with shame and humiliation, knowing that he must have heard that entire argument. He steps away for a moment and you do your best to pull yourself together. When he comes back he’s brought you a steaming mug of tea. 

“Drink this, sweetheart,” he says as he hands it to you. He leans against your desk, sitting on it somewhat, watching you.

You sip at the hot liquid, made exactly the way you like it. 

“Th-thank you, sir,” you tell him, a bit awkwardly. You look down at your lap, too embarrassed to meet his eye and catch sight of the streaks of your mascara staining the pristine cloth bearing his monogram, “I’ve ruined your handkerchief.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear, I have plenty.” His voice is calm.

“I’m sorry you had to hear all that,” you apologize and try to explain, “Tyler had no right to say such things. I can’t believe he said that I- that you-”

You don’t know how you can finish that sentence without having to repeat Tyler’s terrible words. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart, you don’t have to explain,” Lord Kenobi tells you. 

He’s trying to keep his expression neutral, but inside he’s smirking with glee. Lieutenant Tyler Clarret was the last roadblock he had in getting what he wants. The lieutenant had a right to be jealous, Obi-Wan had been trying to come between you and him. He did purposely keep you late at work many times, enjoying that he could spend extra time with you and have you all to himself. The corner of his mouth turns up; now, he can make his move.

“Lieutenant Clarret is wrong though, if you dropped your panties in front of me, I would be delighted,” he flirts with you.

You look surprised and then give him a wobbly smile, “You’ve got quite the sense of humor, sir, that cheered me up, thank you, a good joke.”

Obi-Wan reaches his hand out to caress your cheek. His fingers move down to capture your jaw and he tips your chin up so that you meet his eyes completely. 

“I wasn’t joking, my dear, I would consider it quite the honor if you would deign to let me touch you,” he turns Tyler’s words around to his own devices, “Would you like me to touch you, my beautiful assistant?”

His smile is sly, teasing and flirtatious, and his voice is like honey, sweet and syrupy. You lean into his gentle hand, and for a moment you imagine he could be serious. But there’s no way he can be, you tell yourself.

“That’s kind of you to say, sir, but I know I’m not your type of woman,” you look away from him, pulling away from those teasing eyes. “But thank you for helping me feel better.”

“Look at me,” his voice is commanding but gentle, “You didn’t answer my question. Would you like me to touch you?”

You look back, meeting his eyes again. His gaze is piercing and intense, it fills you with heat, and before you can stop yourself you breathe out,

“Yes, yes, I want you to touch me.”

“Good, because I intend to,” he states, his voice deep and firm. He stands up and takes your hand, tugging lightly to help you to your feet. “Come with me.”

Lord Kenobi leads you into his office, closing the door behind him and pressing a button that turns the normally clear glass wall opaque. He steers you to stand in front of a full length mirror that hangs on the wall in his office. You’ve seen him primping at it before, making sure he looks impeccable before a meeting. Now though you’re staring at your own reflection. Your face is a bit puffy from crying, but otherwise it’s just regular old you, although with handsome Lord Kenobi standing behind you. He leans in, his face just above your shoulder, his lips at your ear.

“You said you weren’t my type of woman, but you’re wrong, look how beautiful you are, how exquisite.”

His hands trail down your body, caressing you while he opens your jacket and then pushes it from your shoulders. Underneath you have on a sleeveless silk top that is just a touch transparent, showing just a hint of your bra underneath. His large hands come up to cup your breasts, kneading them softly.

“I’m not though, I’m not beautiful like that,” you try to protest, but it’s hard with the way his hands are moving over you appreciatively.

“Yes, you are. You’re so enchanting. I love to look at you, it’s why I remodeled the office, just so I could appreciate your beauty all day long,” he whispers in your ear, low and intimate.

That news makes you gasp, “You did?”

He gives you a knowing smile and nods as you look at him in the mirror. You watch, captivated, as his lips caress your neck, kissing you before he slides your top off your body. A soft groan rumbles in his chest as he reveals your lace-clad breasts to his eyes. 

“If I knew you were hiding sexy little things like this under your clothing, I would have taken them off you sooner,” Lord Kenobi tells you, his skillful fingers undoing your trousers next, “Let’s see if you have pretty little panties on to match.”

You thank the Maker that you do have on a very pretty set today. You had originally planned for Tyler to see them, but you’re so much happier to have Lord Kenobi be the one to have that pleasure.

Swiftly, he yanks away the rest of your uniform, not stopping until you're standing only in your underwear in the middle of his office.  

“Look at you, so gorgeous,” he drawls, “I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense about you not being my type of woman.”

Obi-Wan presses himself against you, letting you feel him, hard and hot against your backside. His hands flow over your body, groping at your curves. He takes his time, enjoying the view of your lingerie and appreciating every inch of skin he can reach. He turns your head away from the mirror but only so he can finally kiss your lips. His hands may be patient for now, but his mouth is demanding. His lips open yours so his tongue can plunge inside. He kisses you until you’re gasping for air, letting you breathe for only a moment before he’s back at it.

He stops kissing you and turns you back to look at your own reflection. Your lips are now slightly swollen from his kisses, your chest is heaving, and your eyes are glowing. You do feel beautiful, your eyes meet his through the glass and you smile at him.

“That’s my sweetheart,” he murmurs to you, “See how beautiful you look in my hands.”

Those hands move now to peel your bra from your body. They knead your breasts, lifting them up and molding them to his liking. His elegant fingers circle your nipples, brushing over them to tease them and make you moan. Then one of his hands travels downward, pushing into your panties. His finger glides into your wetness, exploring your most sensitive parts. He finds your clit, and applies the perfect pressure to it, circling around and then rubbing over the top. His other fingers have pushed the lace cup of your bra out of the way to free one breast and give him better access to your hardened nipple.

“L- Lord Kenobi,” you whimper, and then moan loudly as he pushes two long fingers deep inside you. 

“I love the way you say my name,” he replies, his mouth on your neck again, this time biting and sucking.

His fingers curl up to find that soft spongy spot that makes your toes curl and you whimper for him again. His thumb strums at your clit now.  A hot flame of pleasure is burning deep within you and with each pass of his talented fingers another moan spills from your lips. You watch the salacious scene playing out in front of you in the mirror. It makes you even wetter and you hear Lord Kenobi let out a lewd moan of his own.

“I can’t wait any longer, sweetheart, I need to have you,” he groans in your ear, “Tell me you want that.”

“I do,” you reassure him breathlessly. 

Almost reluctantly he pulls his hand out of your panties so he can tug them down your legs and off you. With a wave of his hand your bra unfastens and you shrug it off quickly. He takes one long appreciative look at you and then yanks you to him roughly, your nude form pressed against his perfectly clothed one. He kisses you with such intensity it's as if you're being kissed for the first time, finally understanding how kissing was meant to be.

Your hands move over his starched jacket, and you sigh, “You’re wearing way too many clothes, I can hardly feel you.”

“I’m happy to remedy that for you, sweetheart,” he replies between kisses. But it’s only when you daringly cup him through his trousers that he pulls away from you with a growl and begins tearing at his clothes.

When he’s finally gloriously naked, you find yourself licking your lips as your eyes travel the length of his well toned chest, his sculpted abdominals, and down to finally rest on his very well-endowed cock. 

“You’re even more handsome than I dreamed,” you sigh, tipping your head and staring as if you’ll never get your fill.

“So you have dreamed of me like this, hmm?” A devilishly playful smile adorns his face.

“I may have indulged in a fantasy or two,” you admit shyly, biting your lip.

“I want to hear about those sometime,” he says as he’s moving his large desk chair over in front of the mirror, “But for now, I would very much like to indulge in one of my favorite fantasies.”

He takes a seat on the chair, and gestures for you to come to him.

“I want you to sit in my lap facing the mirror, I don’t want you to miss a moment of seeing the pleasure I’m going to give you,” he instructs you.

You follow his lead, letting his hands guide you into position so that you’re straddling his lap, feet on the floor with your pussy hovering over where he wants it the most. He lifts his hips so that the head of his cock glides through your wetness and bumps up against your clit. You groan from his teasing and sway your hips chasing more of that wonderful feeling until his hand on your hip squeezes and you hold still.

“Watch the mirror, sweetheart, I want you to see the exact moment when I make you mine,” Lord Kenobi commands. 

His hands tug you downward and you watch as his length disappears inside of you, stretching you open so much so that you wonder if you can take him. He feels incredible though and you know you want more. You take a deep breath and sink down further and gasp as he thrusts his hips upward to meet you. The motion makes him hit your g-spot so perfectly that you’re already seeing stars. As you’re fully seated, you feel him deep within you and you clench around him tightly.

Obi-Wan’s hands come up to cradle your breasts and he leans you back against his chest, your head tipped slightly to the side so you can both see your reflection in the mirror.

“Absolutely gorgeous, just as I knew we would be,” he says and then rolls his hips making you moan.

He keeps you like that for a bit, rolling his hips and letting you grind on him as his hands touch and tease you all over. His lips caress your neck and your ear as he whispers filthy compliments to you,

“This perfect cunt is all mine now, no other man will ever satisfy you like I can, no other man will even get to see this beautiful cunt, only me.”

His possessiveness should scare you, but it only makes you wetter for him and you circle your hips desperate for more. 

“Move, sweetheart, ride me the way you need to,” he tells you, his hands coming back to hold your hips.

With his strong arms directing you, you rise and fall on him, getting into a good rhythm. When you’re gliding so fluidly above him, he shifts his hips following your movements so that he can fuck up into you each time as you move down. You watch the two of you in the mirror, positively entranced by the lewd dance you’ve created. You’re so wet that you can hear the slick sounds of your coupling. The combination of sight and sound only fuels your desire for him and that beautiful burn of pleasure is back, deep within your core. 

“It’s so good, we look so good together,” you manage to tell him. You wish you could speak more eloquently right now but his cock is quickly chasing all thoughts from your brain. You ride him faster, your back arching as you chase your high.

“Are you ready to see yourself come, sweetheart?” He asks as his fingers find your clit again, roughly circling it and making you cry out.

You can’t tear your eyes away from the mirror, from the way his fingers dance over your body, to the hypnotic undulation of your hips, it’s so decadently lascivious. You see yourself start to tremble in your Sith Lord’s arms, and then it hits you, a climax so powerful that it consumes you in white hot heat. You see his lips make the word ‘beautiful’ in the mirror, but you can’t hear it over your keening cry of his name. 

Obi-Wan keeps moving, fucking you through your orgasm. Your cunt is pulsing around him, and he can’t hold back any longer. He pushes himself as far as he can inside you, spilling his seed deep and claiming you fully. He bites down on your neck as he comes, loving the way you cry out again for him.

“My lovely girl did so well for me, so utterly dazzling, so perfect,” he’s crooning praise to you as you slowly come back to yourself.

“My lord, that was so wonderful, and you were right, we look beautiful together, and I loved watching us,” you tell him, your eyes holding his golden gaze through the mirror.

His hands are still gently caressing you, appreciating every inch of your skin.

“I think you’ll find that I am always right,” he replies, “Now, just wait until you see the mirror over my bed.”

Thanks for reading! Definitely more Sith Obi-Wan to come 😈

Tag list: @boomtowngirl @kavecika @becks-things @mysticalgalaxysalad @catsnkooks @starlightrows @tailorvizsla @bitchin-beskar @lilhawkeye3 @acourtofsnakes @grogusmum @buzzybeebee @deannie13 @ladykatakuri @noodlesfics @the-good-shittt @princessxkenobi @everythingyouwanted @jewfro24 @vaderthepotater @pinkiemme @laichka @elinedjarin @myeternalsin @kazthedestroyer @writeforfandoms @startrekkingaroundasgard @onabouteverything @beskarmermaid @flightlessangelwings @mandoloriancookie @4rosydreams (p.s. I just tagged my whole tag list for this but if you want to be removed just let me know)

#sith!obi wan kenobi #sith obi wan kenobi #sith!obi wan kenobi x female reader #sith obi want kenobi x female reader #sith!obi wan kenobi x reader #sith obi wan kenobi x reader #sith!obi wan kenobi fanfiction #sith obi wan kenobi fanfiction #18+

[docholligay]

This was originally a footnote but is now its own unhinged rant

How is it that Montana is so far behind in the hot alochol department? I have seen so many delicious hot alcohols here in the UK and Germany, and I am borderline offended that we don’t seem to have any of that. If you try to get a mulled wine in Montana they will look at you like you have three heads, even though mulled wine is easy, cheap, and, I can’t emphasize this enough, it is constantly fucking freezing between the months of, conservatively, November to February. Our October weather is almost exactly like the UK’s December weather, and yet we have a dozen harvest festivals where the only alcohol everyone is serving is fucking cold beer. What, in the shit, are we thinking, as a people? 

Every time I have had people over to my house for parties in winter, I have to convince them to try the mulled wine and every time I do, they comment on how good it is, and, yes??? The only hot drink I can consistently get in Montana is a hot toddy, and do not mistake me hot toddies are one of my absolute favorite drinks, points to the UK for that one, but I don’t understand why we don’t have the mulled wine and mulled cider and gin toddies and extra shots and all the things that I know would sell at a fall festival. It was so cold at Harvestfest this year! I am legitimately considering applying for a cabaret license, which is fairly cheap in Montana, and seeing if I can fucking rock up to Harvestfest in some cute dirdl thing and be like, “Let me change your fuckin life, Len,” because I don’t have enough to do on a day to day basis. 

Do we have too much sunshine? Is desperation the answer here? I’m willing to do what it takes.

[the-owl-tree]

on that note, if you were going to rewrite the sisters/write a similar group, what sort of approach would you take? ( planning on doing something like that if the motivation gods bless me)

i've made some big changes for the sisters for my beanie blog (pspspsps @askwcbean) but I think it really depends on the group you're trying to create. I wanted to keep the Sisters as a sustainable, self-growing group but keep some of the flaws (their strong sense of a gender binary). I don't want to make a utopian society out of spite, but I do want to make a society that could reasonably survive. Soooo (a combo of my ideas & stealing from others):

my collection of bullet point ramblings under the cut

The Sisters are very open to those willing to join and learn. They are a collection of loners, rogues, and kittypets. Not only does this keep our bloodlines less janked up, but it makes sense as to why the group can keep a reasonable amount of cats - they aren't closed off like the clans.

They'll often adopt abandoned kits, cats who are in bad situations, and generally anyone who is willing to learn and work with the group. This is a group that relies on diplomacy and good relations with others, they should be very open to outsiders.

Get rid of the super special bloodline thing. It's both a personal and practical thing, it doesn't work for a group like this. Have being able to see spirits be something you can be taught

I'm not giving Tree super special ghost powers. Sorry, I'm going to forever make fun of his novella it's so fucking stupid. He can see ghosts and has a heightened sensitivity to them, but it takes multiple Sisters and Brothers to be able to summon ghosts into views.

Keep the "Mother" kittypet origin story.

But how do they function? Well, the Sisters seem to operate a fairly small group, it doesn't really make sense to me for them to need a centralized structure. So, going for a decentralized system in the Sisters, power is distributed across the group and there is an emphasis on teamwork and decision making on all parts.

Choosing representatives for when meeting new groups tends to fall on reputation, charisma, and experience. Moonlight was chosen for these reasons, but she does not control the entirety of the group, though cats will lean on her words when she gives advice. She doesn't have legitimate power like a Clan leader, she relies on social influence and respect. Her word isn't law, but she does carry some weight due to her experience.

The Sisters have a fairly strong gender binary: Brothers, Sisters, Mothers, Fathers. You can be one or the other, they'll try to work around those who feel they don't fit for either role....but it doesn't always work out. I lean towards this not being decided by agab, you can shift from Brother to Sister and vice versa, it's those cats that don't exist in that binary who may feel out of place (but this is a wip idea and I want to tweak it more before i commit. i know for sure that Bean is one of those cats who doesn't want to fit this binary and is why she left to take up a "Brother" role despite not seeing herself as a Brother. I don't want them to treat them poorly, though it can happen, but that there's a lot of...reluctance to try and expand their ideas for these cats).

Toms don't get kicked out as babies. It's dumb, sorry everyone who likes that. There's no real logic to it besides a very half-assed attempt at trying to expand on the Sisters beliefs and even then, a kid with no training would get the shit kicked out of him by the wilderness lol

So, Brothers are socialized and trained on how to survive on their own. They're given information on medical herbs, hunting and gathering skills, best material to build dens and where to find a makeshift one in case of an emergency. Once again, this is not suddenly thrust upon them, they are socialized, this is something that they are believed to be as completely natural and an expectation for them.

When they are sufficiently deemed to be ready, the Brother is sent out to find a territory. They just don't just wander around (because I mean...the Sisters fill that role. They're nomadic). This is where I am yoinking a bit from others (notably bonefall's take on them), these territories act as base camps for the Sisters during their travels when they need to restock on herb supplies, have an injured or pregnant member, young kits, etc. That's why it's so important to them to have as many wide varieties of camps across their travels, and it's why Tree and Moonlight have some tension upon their meeting.

Boy picked a bad territory in their opinion, but in his defense, he didn't pick it for the Sisters. My base idea for these is Tree had a bad bad outing, but it needs work. I'll keep their strained relationship, but I'd like a little more depth to it just than the Erins beloved eeeeevvuuuulll mommmmyyyy (sooo scary!).

The Sisters believe they have a duty to help put spirits to rest, as well as help more malevolent ones find peace in the afterlife. They help with hauntings, lingering spirits, malicious spirits, etc.

They work in groups! The more malicious the spirit, the more Sisters it will take to pacify them and eventually release them from whatever is trapping them to the mortal plane.

Annnd so far that's what I've got! I have some more spirit lore over on my Bean blog, but this has been my working ideas for the Sisters themselves. Hope it helps :D

#deer rambles #new lore just dropped on the beanie blog :3c #okay i'll stop advertising it i prommy #but yeah! i feel like the sisters are fairly easy to fix #and i don't mind keeping their flawed sense of gender #it makes them interesting and it provides good conflict when focusing on them #besides. if ur gonna criticize them how about we criticize how the books keep positing motherhood as every she-cat's destiny

[springofviolets]

I’m going to do a little midnight ramble here. I started writing fan fiction last Christmas and I find it so, so much harder than writing original fiction. You’ve got to take characters you didn’t invent and try to put them into situations that make sense for the background created by someone else and make them respond to those situations in a voice and with motivations you didn’t come up with. That’s fucking hard! The amount of mind-reading that takes? Yeesh!

So many great fan fic writers I’ve met think they’re like not good enough to write original fiction yet. Babes I think all of you are more than ready. If you’re building a world for these characters and telling a coherent story with them, you’re doing so much harder work than pulling characters out of your ass, deciding on your own what their personalities and motivations are, sticking them into any scenario in the universe, and being free to adjust them as you write because nobody met them before you came up with them. Seriously. If you’re one of these kinds of fan fic writers who’s wanted to write original fiction and think you’re not ready? Go fucking do it, you are.

I’m thinking about all this because I am trying to give myself grace as I attempt to wrap up an absolute slog of a piece of fan fiction that’ll come in at around 10k words. I’ve been working on it since late January, technically, and when I started writing fan fic I never thought that I would be this devoted to it. I thought I was going to use it as a sandbox to experiment with writing subject matter and techniques I didn’t want to test on the original fiction I attach my real name to. As it turns out, I really enjoyed telling stories about my favorite little guys, but I find the process absolutely grueling.

For this fic, I can’t tell you how many hours I’ve spent doing things like

Debating how much the trauma responses of occult beings would be like a human trauma response

Debating what sorts of fucked up attachment styles occult beings could/would develop as a result of their trauma

Trying to write quite a lot of consensual explicit sex (a thing I never wrote before December 25 2023) and make it clear that the characters are in love but have the sex be not sexy

Trying to balance several intended emotional strands throughout the story in a way that actually works and doesn’t result in them like canceling each other out or coming together in a story that feels completely disjointed

Trying to keep the writing from being overwrought. And also underwrought

Feeling like there are literally no possible arrangements of words that will hit the way I want them to for every single sentence in this story

Telling myself that this story is stupid and nobody will even want to read it (a thought I legitimately never had about any of my writing before this!)

Asking myself if I’m sunk cost fallacying the amount of time I’ve put into this story and I should just abandon it

Being really mad that some people are popping out like 4k words of fan fiction a week when I’ve spent two months writing less words than that and I’m pretty damn sure it’s nowhere near as good as what they popped out without even stopping to think long and hard about it, given the turnaround time

Thinking about how the more fan fiction I write the less excuse I have for why I’m so shit at this

So uh, I think I’m on the verge of being done editing part 2 of 3 of this thing before having it beta read. Assuming my beta readers don’t appear bored out of their ever-loving minds by it, I’ll finish it, though god knows how long that’ll ultimately take.

I do not regret getting into fan fiction writing, but boy is it driving me crazy.

#fan fiction #fan fic #writing

[reclusiverisottonero]

𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐨𝐰

Current Place ➸ Prologue ✫ Ao3 Link ⤷ To Next Chapter (coming soon!)

✦ Demon!Risotto Nero/afab!Reader

✦ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: GN pronouns; afab body type, but no body parts described in this chapter ✦ 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬/𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: None unless my limited knowledge of witchcraft counts as something you need to be mentally prepared to put up with. Though there will eventually be smut, and it will be top reader. ✦ 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Thank you to @phvntom-limbs for beta on this chapter! Your input is greatly appreciated. ♥ ✦ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Trying to summon a demon as a get-rich-quick scheme is not the brightest idea you’ve ever had. An error in the ritual causes you to summon the wrong demon, with no way for them to return to hell unless certain criteria are met. Too bad the ambiguity of the pact you've messed up leaves you both stumbling to figure out what they are.

It’s taken months of deep diving into the shady, esoteric, and downright weird parts of the internet to figure out what is legitimate information about witchcraft and summoning demons; and what’s hippie crystal healing self-improvement bullshit. You don’t need guided meditation and inner peace, what you need is to pay your fucking bills and put food in your fridge. Deep breathing exercises to align your chakras while balancing rose quartz on your palms isn’t what’s going to keep a roof over your head.

All of your research led you to the location of a historical auction soon to take place at a privately owned, small scale museum that’s dedicated to the history of the occult. They were desperate for funding, and a book that dozens of witches on the forum you’d lurked were swearing was the real deal, was one of the many items up for grabs. The news of its auction spread like wildfire in the niche community, and the scathing posts between members already fighting to out bid each other and get their hands on something so rare had been a good night of entertainment. 

Too bad for them, that auction is never going to happen. 

Hidden away in such a small, antiquated museum, stealing it had been laughably easy. Your knowledge about the book and feigned determination not to see the establishment shut down had the curator jump at your offer to selflessly volunteer without question. Afterwards, all it took was a few innocent questions about your well-being in a crime ridden area to learn the security cameras were just for show, then a bit of kissing up here and there to the right people, and the next thing you knew a copy of keys to the building were yours. The safe deposit box containing the book was out of the door in your bag a few days later. 

Looking at it now, what’s supposed to be a centuries old tome doesn’t exactly feel or look like it. Online images had shown the cover as an ancient, withered old thing, the pages tinged a sickly yellow with muddy brown splotches across the pages. This grimoire made to summon creatures from the other side of this realm of existence to fulfill whatever your heart’s desire; looks more like something from Barnes & Noble’s New Age section. So pristine that you can practically smell the classic new book scent as it wafts up from every flip of the page. 

No way the museum would have the foresight to switch the original book out with whatever this was. How could they begin to anticipate someone would want this old thing bad enough to go through as much trouble as you have in getting it? Though as untouched by time as it looks, from what you can tell the materials used and technique of its construction are clearly of the time period of its supposed origin. Had they hired a professional to restore it, like you’ve seen people do with paintings in viral videos? That has to be it and you refuse to believe otherwise, not after all the time you’ve invested into this. 

The meager space of your living room is cleared out in record time to work on setting up what you need to do this ritual. It has to be followed to the letter, the consequences of fucking any part of this up is something you don’t want to even begin to dwell on. 

With summoning glyph painted into the wooden laminate floor and all the herbs, crystals, and animal bones needed in their proper positions on it, you hold the grimoire in one hand with a knife in the other and begin to read the incantation aloud. You’re undeterred as the bergamot leaves start to singe around their edges, voice unwavering and confident when the bones splinter and crack. The small pieces of garnet rattle against the veneer as you continue, the noise becoming harsher when you bring the knife to the meat of your palm for the finale of all of this fanfare.  

It takes but a single drop of your blood hitting the edge of the glyph for a multitude of things to happen all at once: a large surge in electricity makes the lights go on the fritz, the delicate bulbs shatter from above and smoke pouring from the wiring as the room’s temperature sharply rises. Your furniture rattles and creaks before a pulsing wave of energy spreads out from the center of the room to knock you off your feet. Crashing to the floor, a sharp, tinny sound hits your eardrums as pieces of metal break away from the everyday items in your flat to slowly rise up in the air. 

Scissors whirl past from behind and graze your arm. Its stinging pain threatens to make the rising panic burst your heart, and you watch as they fly into the smoky abyss forming over the summoning circle. Some screws shoot past your head, a cluster of loose change hits your back before you’re able to roll yourself out of its path. More metal bits and chunks from things you’ve not given a second thought about are pulled in by whatever magnetic force is making itself known right now, disappearing into the thick smoke swirling around faster and faster. It takes the knives in your kitchen coming from around the corner to finally have you consider that maybe demon summoning as a get-rich-quick scheme was not the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

Through the smoke you see the silhouette of a body taking shape. Metal grinds against metal, your temples pounding from the sound as the amalgamation writhes and twists and groans into something massive. When the swirling veil of smoke evaporates it leaves behind a horned man, with hair as white as moonlight and eyes burning bright like red hot coals that lock directly on you. Each silent step he makes forwards pushes the fear in your chest higher into your throat until he’s towering from above your spot on the floor, tall and thick and broad and very, very naked. 

Realistically you know it was likely the demon you hoped to conjure would look nothing like the sketches you’ve seen, but this is far from what you’ve envisioned the appearance of a demon to be like. It’s hard to focus on his looks any further when the way he stares through you with a tilt of his head leaves you wanting to sink through the floor. Between the shock of this actually working, the fact that he’s nothing like you thought he would be, and wondering how you’re going to excuse the multiple noise complaints your neighbors have surely given the landlord by now; a pathetic, shaky little exhale is all you can find the energy to greet him with. 

Of all the things he could do in response, this demonic mass of raw power slowly gets on one knee before you and says, “Master.” 

His word triggers another round of metallic ringing in your ears as light bursts from his neck and wrists, forming into a thick set of cuffs and a collar. Shielding yourself from the intense burst you have to do a double take as your own wrist glows just as strongly, a much thinner chain wrapping around it to lay lightweight across your skin. Signs of the pact that’s now in play. The demon stays in his place throughout the light show, his eyes following your rise onto wobbly legs when you’re no longer blinded from it.

All of your hard work has led up to this point. Too late to back out now even if you wanted to, but you’re fully prepared to exchange anything the demon wants for your own gain. You square your shoulders and straighten out your posture to do your best to compensate for how huge the demon is compared to you even while on his knees, channel the emotions roiling in your gut to force yourself to sound as authoritative as you can.

“What is your name, demon?” The question is part of the ritual, exchanging formalities is crucial to setting up a good rapport so it can lead to a negotiation that doesn’t involve your soul being what’s exchanged or getting killed on the spot. 

Said demon’s full lips curl up in a hint of a smirk, red eyes looking you over for a moment before he deigns to answer, “I’ve gone by many names, but the one that has always been easiest for humans to pronounce is Risotto Nero.” 

Your moment of bravado is short lived, as when he shares his name, cold dread shoots through your veins at the realization this is not the demon you had originally intended to summon. 

➸ Next. (coming soon!)

#risotto nero x reader #risotto x reader #risotto nero #jjba #jjba risotto #risotto nero jjba #my writing #work in progress

[teyvats-worst-hero]

Un-Fucking Sangonomiya Kokomi

(But I’m too tired to do it well)

When the Inazuma Archon Quests first happened, I thought for sure that Kokomi was gonna be an antagonist. Morally grey at least.

The way she was spoken of was nearly reverent. The great strategist of Watatsumi Island, flawless strategies, fighting the Shogun’s armies against all odds, revolting for the sake of vision holders throughout Inazuma.

And somehow, no one questions her. How she got there. Her methods. Her insistence on bringing Watatsumi to war despite a complete lack of domestic agriculture or manpower or resources of any kind.

And you know what? She had every reason to revolt, none of them being for the vision holders.

Doesn’t she have suspicious connections to Enkanomiya and the slain god Orobashi as Divine Priestess? How could she possibly not know about the Delusions?

I propose that, in this mini reimagining of that quest, Kokomi had to have ulterior, not necessarily devious, motivations. To reinstate Watatsumi as an independent entity from the shogunate, in this case through civil war. Because the Raiden Shogun would sooner let them wither away than help them, walking liabilities, the people of a previous god. Tatarasuna, Seirai, and Tsurumi Island all faced that same fate.

In terms of domestic power, she would be attracting strong vision users with deep grudges against their government. People with ambition. People willing to look at Watatsumi not as an extension of Inazuma, but as the seat of ideological revolution. Gorou, Kazuha, and even the Yashiro Commission from behind the scenes. Two noble clans from the mainland and a war hero.

Many of her allies were also foreign, like the Fatui and the Crux. You must be recognized by outsiders to really be acknowledged. As the troops of the Tsaritsa, the Fatui’s involvement would legitimize Watatsumi as its own entity, while Beidou has significant clout in Liyue.

Add a celebrity warrior, savior of two nations? You’ve got the most popular campaign in the world.

Maybe Kokomi even allowed the production of delusions using Orobashi’s remains. Tatarasuna isn’t governed by her, but it’s an easy stretch for the Divine Priestess to be hanging around her god’s corpse. Still doubt she’d be fully aware of the long term effects though. Either that, or Watatsumi’s original situation was so dire that it became a “good of the many” decision.

All in all, Kokomi could have introduced a whole new element of political intrigue, and I will die mad about how she got shafted. I’m gonna go pass out now. Maybe tomorrow I’ll make more sense.

#forgive the possible incoherence #always be skeptical about the leaders of revolutions #even if the ideals are sound #people will be people. and people are flawed #Inazuma rewrite #genshin impact #genshin #genshin kokomi #sangonomiya kokomi #Inazuma archon quest #genshin archon quest

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

I greatly admire Walt Disney and everything he created, I consider him an inspiration to me. I don't like how people like to villainize him, saying things like that he was a Nazi sympathizer or that he was racist. I know he wasn't perfect, but the truth is that no one is, that's what makes us human. I have enormous respect for him, for Roy, Ub and other classic Disney employees. The people I have no respect for are people like Katzenberg, Eisner, Chapek and Iger. They may have done a lot of good things for the company, but they also did a lot of bad things.

Sorry this got a bit long , however Honestly the modern CEOs to me have done nothing but damage I have nothing good to say Iger is the only one I can say there is a little bit that he has done to help contribute

Eisner was only thinking about the mermaid movies

Katzenberg damn near took down black cauldron if you don't know what I'm talking about he literally hated a scene so much he tried telling these animators to edit out certain parts even though this was the 1980s and that was damn near impossible he kept on trying to pressure them into doing it Eisner basically had to pull his leash so he would leave the movie alone however they did make sure that one scene was cut down

Katzenberg is also the reason 2D animation is out of the company but I will give him the factor that he created DreamWorks out of sheer spite with Spielberg and Geffen and that still gets me cackling to this day

Eisner though is the reason Splash Mountain was named that did you know originally Splash Mountain was called the Zip a Dee ride but he renamed it to Splash Mountain after the Splash H20 movie

And let's not mention the train wreck that was the '90s Eisner was literally trying that one Steve Buscemi meme of hello fellow kids there was actual gang fights because of the Clubs for teens he made that became known to the local gangs and became hang out spots. No I'm not joking go look it up and in the parking lot of Disneyland a kid was shot and killed over these gang rivalries

I'm not even going to mention Chapek because he made Eisner look like a saint in just 2 years canceled Owl House went on a anti-lgbtq rant was quantity over quality many projects were canceled because they did not align with his values

When the board members literally hunt Iger back down because they want to boot this guy out you know he's very fucked

And then Iger started out promising he would even go to the parks and make sure everything was okay. Nobody in the CEO position had really done that just randomly like him since Walt, this is why the 2010s are seen as some of the best years because he was initially pretty damn good

But then he started slipping I don't know if it's just a fumble because he's trying to repair everything with Chapek, but he is made some condemming decisions, especially with the whole Palestine and Anti LGBTQA situation right now.

When it comes to Walt Roy and Ub, I will be the first to tell you Walt was not perfect however he definitely was not a Nazi sympathizer he in fact had Donald hit Hitler in the face with a tomato at one point in time,

And as for people saying he was anti-semite that was based on an old rumor because of the whole no beards thing of the parks

like legitimately it was rumored at one point he was a part of the Communist Party like these are very old rumors that were proven untrue.

He didn't like beards because according to people around him he was afraid women would find them intimidating you got to remember the societal side it was a completely different era not an excuse however you have to factor it in whether you like it or not.

Walt Roy and Ub were three guys just trying to make it like everyone else, that's not even bringing up what would happen with Oswald damn near brought the company to it's knees because Oswald was supposed to be the mascot supposed to be the one they made their shorts off of and just when they think they have it it's all taken away by Mintz

Left damn near penniless and with only a few sketches of what would become Mickey Mouse did they escape Universal and with hard work but also on a wish and a prayer did they manage to bring it back from the brink.

If you see the villain in up btw Charles Muntz yeah that's why they made Charles Muntz I still laugh when I watch that film because the pettiness is beautiful. Thank you to the animators at Pixar and Disney for spitting in his face over half a century later turning him into a literal Disney villain

That is still the greatest comeback I've ever seen.

#mickey mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #walt disney #roy disney #ub iwerks #charles mintz #charles muntz #up #disney #Eisner #bob chapek #bob iger

[imminent-danger-came]

drop a bitterbomb about lmk or the fandom, just go ham. i am here for that mk rant

Hmmm I don't think I have a complaint about lmk itself! (Except maybe the fat clone joke, but I have my man Pigsy so it evens out for me). I really love this show with my whole heart, and though I can be bitter about some things (toh, shera, recently nimona) I do try to give things the benefit of the doubt if I can tell there's real heart and thought behind something. And lmk? So much thought goes into this show, you can feel how talented these writers are!

As for the fandom. *Ahem* *Gets on top of my soap box.* This is a lot of power you've given me.

Like I said in my tags, MK is so often relegated to the role of "therapist" it's shocking. I think a lot of folk view MK and Steven (from Steven Universe) as the same character, and while there's fun similarities, MK is very different from Steven. Steven is definitely the group therapist and ends up having to be the most emotionally mature of all the crystal gems, struggling to keep everyone above water. MK on the other hand has to rely an incredible amount on everyone around him, rarely being the one to actually give comfort himself. MK just also isn't really a character with a "I can fix them" mentality. He's not going out of his way to redeem anyone, except the person in front of him who he thinks can help save his friends/the universe.

Maybe this is a bold take, but I view MK as someone who would choose his friends over the world (he also literally does so in 4x02). He is not a selfless world-first kind of hero, which makes his guilt over getting the world in trouble all the more delightful to watch.

So, it's always surprising to me when I see MK being the one to comfort other characters (namely Red Son and Macaque), when Mei is LITERALLY right there. Our hopepunk shonen protag girly. She's the one to usually do the comforting (along with the rest of the gang), but I think in general a lot of people sleep on Mei.

Which brings me to my second rant: another thing that's kind of disappointing/annoying about the fandom is how pretty much Sun Wukong and Macaque are the only two characters, with MK as a third to promote some kind of interaction between the other two. Sometimes I play a game with myself of seeing how far I can scroll the lmk tag before I see a post about only Sandy.

Which, lmk has such a wonderful cast of characters, it's kind of sad seeing fan content only about Wukong and Macaque—now don't get me wrong, I also love those monkeys, but there's also a lot more characters to explore! Mei is one of my favorite characters, and I think Tang has one of my favorite arcs in the show (3x08 is such a good episode. I am also a big fan of 4x03).

And, god. For all the fan content about Wukong and Macaque those two definitely get the brunt of the blorbofication.

In canon? They're very flawed and fucked up immortals who have hurt themselves and others. But in the fandom? UWU Precious sad boys who blush. It's kind of maddening. Originally I had a lot of people mad at me in my notes for thinking sweet boy Sun Wukong knew MK was a monkey the whole time/involved in MK's creation. Like. I legitimately can not believe there was discourse on twitter about Wukong being a "deadbeat dad". Have you seen this man. Hello. He's an asshole, but he's our asshole, and he tries.

#People were also mad at my ''SWK and MK are gonna fight next season'' prediction. And I'm like come on man #One: You can still love someone who has hurt you. We all hurt each other. That's life #Two: MK has not ever gotten to express the ways Wukong has hurt him in the show. And that's gonna come out at some point #Though I think my blog has found it's way to folk who are a lot more chill #And some who are on this SWK V MK pain train with me #Which is based #anyways that's enough complaining from me #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk rant #asks #imp's a little feisty