#free frickin basket

[catsofyore]

Nothing better than finding a free basket on the sidewalk! Photo from my collection, no further info.

[wolfieldos]

Icorect PJO/HOO quotes from this website :https://perchance.org/incorrect-quote-generator

Thalia: You seem familiar, have I threatened you before?

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Nico: The only thing keeping me from running away and hiding from society for the rest of my life is spite. I could disappear forever, but there are some bitches whose downfalls I have yet to witness, and I wanna be around when that happens.

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Percy: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

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Percy: Pros and cons of dating me. Percy: Pros. You'll be the cute one. Percy: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

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Grover: Yum, thanks!

Kidnapper: *puts more tape over their mouth* I said stop eating it.

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Nico: My aesthetic is "would be suspected of witchcraft by small town citizens."

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Annabeth in TLT

Annabeth: *trying to buy a Father's Day card at Hallmark*

Annabeth: Excuse me, do you have any that just say "You are my dad?"

Associate: Well, I-

Annabeth: How about "You banged my mom?"

Associate: No...

Annabeth: You know what, I'll just get a blank one.

Annabeth: *writes* You are a father. This is a day. Here is a card.

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Leo: I'm a firm believer in "if you're going to fail, you might as well fail spectacularly."

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Nico: You can't wake up if you never get to sleep.

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Piper, opening a Capri Sun: Guess I'll drink my sorrows away.

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Hazel: War is heck!

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Jason: I have yet to encounter a problem where a sword didn't factor into the solution at least in some way.

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Frank: Well, needless to say. Uh-oh Spaghetti-os.

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Will: Can we go to a haunted house?

Nico: What’s wrong with the one we live in?

Will: Wh-what?

Nico: Goodnight, Will.

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Percy: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby.

Annabeth: What baby?

Percy, crying a bit: Me.

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*The Squad is playing Chess*

Annabeth: *easily beats everyone because they know how to play*

Piper: *doesn’t know the rules, but wins anyway*

Leo: *doesn’t know the rules, and loses*

Jason: *knows the rules, but still loses to those who don’t*

Frank: Actually, you can’t do that, because I said so.

Percy: They named a board game after cheese?

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*when the Squad drops food*

Annabeth: Eh, oh well.

Piper: FIVE-SECOND RULE!

Nico: FUCK!

Jason: *just gets more food*

Percy: *drops to their knees and mourns the food*

Leo: *eats the food off the ground*

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Leo: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Hazel and Frank's convo?

Piper: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.

Percy: I'm in the washing machine.

Nico: I'm in the closet.

Jason: We accept you Nico. <3

Nico: No I'm literally in the closet.

Jason: Love is love. <3

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Frank: Are you trying to give me a frickin’ aneurysm?

Percy: Pretty sure we all are.

Hazel: I wasn't.

Leo: I was.

Jason: I was trying to stop them, for your consideration.

Nico: I just cause aneurysms naturally.

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Annabeth: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Percy: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Annabeth: ...

Annabeth: You mean ring bearER, right?

Percy: ...

Annabeth: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

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Nico: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

Will: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Nico: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??

Will: Is it working?

-------

BONUS MAGNUS CHASE

Mallory: Nothing in life is free.

Sam: Love is free.

T.J: Knowledge is free.

Alex: Friendship is free.

Halfborn: Self-respect is free.

Magnus: Everything's free if you don't pay for it.

The Squad: ...

T.J: Magnus, that's illegal-

Alex: No, let them finish!

sooooooo yep. Hope you enjoyed

[lunar-wandering]

“this house is a frickin’ nightmare”

so i. decided to write something for the ‘Sitcom’ AU, which is basically just the concept that post-canon, everyone lives in the same house.... its Fun.

Word Count: 2.7k

Read on Ao3

-

"Monkey King, get down from the fridge."

"No."

This exchange is what drew MK's attention to the fact that something was happening in the kitchen.

In MK's opinion, it was far too early for something to be happening in the kitchen.

"Wukong, I swear, if you don't get down from there-"

"What- you gonna stab me? Pigsy, you know full well that method is ineffective."

"What is going on?" MK asked, entering the kitchen and, well, seeing exactly what he had expected; Wukong crouched on top of the fridge, staring down at Pigsy, who was glaring up at him.

Still though. Just because he'd expected to see it didn't explain why it was happening.

"Oh hey, kid." Wukong said, taking notice of him. "Everything's fine, you can go back to your room, breakfast will be ready soon."

"It would be done already if you hadn't burned it." Pigsy said, gesturing to the charred remains of what supposedly had been breakfast. "Seriously, can't you follow simple instructions?? Now we've gotta start all over."

"It's not my fault I'm a visual learner." Wukong said, his tail swinging back and forth.

"It was three steps-"

"What's going on?"

MK barely kept himself from startling at the new voice behind him, turning around to see a very tired looking Red Son.

"Breakfast burned." MK said, catching Red Son up on the situation. Red Son hummed in contemplation, walking into the kitchen, picking up a piece of the unrecognizable charred food, and, ignoring the other's growing horror, he ate it.

"...Tastes fine to me." He said, going so far as to grab and nibble on another piece as he turned and left, presumably heading back to his room. The remaining three watched him go in shocked silence.

"....This house is a frickin' nightmare." Wukong deadpanned. Pigsy nodded in agreement.

"Aptly put. Now get off of the fridge."

"No."

MK decided to go back to bed.

-

It was commonly known, within the household, that somehow, Tang and Wukong continuously managed to get out of doing their fair share of the chores. No one was quite sure how they did it, as the two of them kept coming up with new methods every day.

Today's method was..... interesting, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, they had managed to remove their names from the Chore Roulette Wheel, without leaving any trace that their names had ever even been there. Which was, in fact, rather impressive, considering that the roulette wheel was literally a giant wooden roulette wheel, built by Sandy, and there were no empty spaces were their names used to be, they were just. Gone.

To be honest, MK would've never noticed if Mei hadn't pointed it out.

Now, there was a house-wide search for the two chore-shirkers.

"Found 'em yet?" MK yelled down the stairs into the basement. A few seconds passed, then a unanimous call of "No!" came. MK sighed. If the Spider-gang couldn't find Tang and Wukong down there, then they probably weren't there. (.....Probably. Wukong did have a lot of tricks up his sleeves, and MK didn't put it pass his mentor to use them for something like this.)

That checked off the majority of the house.... which only left-

An enraged scream (courtesy of Mei) from upstairs confirmed what MK had concluded.

They were on the roof.

MK rushed to the stairs, running up them-

Only to pause as he heard a yelp, and a flash of gold fell past the window, followed by a loud thud. MK leaned on the windowsill to look outside, just in time to see Tang fall past it. Wukong, a few branches and grass in his fur from his rough landing, summoned his cloud to catch Tang, before zooming away.

As MK would later find out, in the haste to escape Mei's wrath, Tang had actually pushed Wukong off the roof. Wukong, in return, had unceremoniously dropped Tang on the ground the first chance he got.

Both of their names were back on the roulette wheel by the next morning.

....They still managed to get out of doing their chores though.

-

"Oh, hey Macaque." MK mumbled, tiredly rubbing his eyes, and Macaque, mid-way through stealing a snack out of the fridge, froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Uh.....hey, bud." He said, slowly closing the fridge door, glancing at MK, who was obviously very tired, then looking at the clock on the wall.

2:43 AM. Okay, he could work with this.

"What are you doing up so late?" Macaque asked, leaning casually against the fridge in an attempt to hide his nervousness. If MK had been more awake, he would've noticed and called him out on it, but as it was....

"Just woke up.... wanted to get a snack." MK said, and Macaque quickly opened a nearby cupboard.

"Here, have this." He said, putting a cookie in MK's hands, before grabbing him by the shoulders, turning him around, and gently shoving him back towards his room. "Now go back to bed."

"G'night, Macaque." MK said, nibbling on his cookie.

"Goodnight, MK." Macaque sighed, waiting until he heard MK's bedroom door click closed again before melting back into the shadows.

The next morning, MK thought he had dreamt the whole thing. After all, Macaque had vehemently denied the invitation to live in the house with everyone else, surely if he had changed his mind and started to live with them, someone would've noticed.

....Right?

-

"Monkey King?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you always sleep on the roof?" Red Son asked, "I mean, you do have a room after all, why don't you use it?"

"I just like watching the stars." Wukong said, reclining on his cloud. Suddenly, Mei and MK also appeared beside Red Son, with their arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

"You told me that beds were uncomfortable." Mei said.

"And you told me that you liked the breeze." MK added. Wukong's tail bristled a little, but he still didn't look over at them.

"Well, I mean, all of those are true." Wukong said, "Figured I would just... switch my answers up from time to time, keep things entertaining you know?"

"That doesn't explain why you slept out there in the pouring rain." Mei said, "In fact, the only time we've seen you sleep inside is when we have blanket fort night."

"...The rain was nice?" Wukong said, sounding uncertain. The trio narrowed their eyes.

"Is there something wrong with your room?" Red Son asked, and Wukong flinched.

"No." He said, finally sitting up and looking at them. "Really, my room's perfectly fine, I don't know where you're getting the idea that something's wrong-"

"You're doing that nervous smile again." MK said, and Wukong slammed a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide what the trio had already seen.

There was a moment of silence, and in that moment, each member of the traffic light trio came to a shared conclusion.

No matter the cost, they would get into Wukong's room.

Almost as though they had actually planned it, the trio took off towards the staircase, ignoring Wukong's yells for them to stop. Hurriedly, Wukong summoned two clones, then rushed after the trio.

Red on got caught on the stairs, the clone grabbing hold of the edge of his coat and dragging him down. It wouldn't be able to hold him for long of course, his fire could quickly burn the clone away, but it would still manage to slow him down.

Mei was captured in the hallway, the clone pushing off the wall to tackle her, accidentally knocking her right into Yin and Jin's room, pining her to the ground as the twins yelped in shock.

...Which just left MK.

Having trained with the Monkey King, MK found himself easily dodging Wukong's attempts to catch him. Slightly out of breath, he skidded to a stop in front of Wukong's door, turned the knob, and opened it.

"I don't really see what the problem is, the room looks fine to me-" MK said, stepping into the room.

"Kid, wait-" Wukong started to say, but it was too late.

MK tripped, tumbling into the room, dispelling the illusion Wukong had carefully crafted and placed over it.

Wukong's room was a mess, to put things lightly. There was stuff everywhere- books, clothes, antiques, food, you named it, it was probably there. It was to the point where there was no place to sleep, the bed being covered in stuff. Which, well, that explained the whole 'sleeping on the roof' thing, but still.

Wukong nervously shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. Red Son and Mei, who had succeeded in freeing themselves, as well as Yin and Jin, who had gotten curious from all the commotion, stared over Wukong's shoulders, taking in the state of the room.

MK sat there for a moment, looking at the mess (and sure, MK's room was messy too, but this-), before slowly turning around to look at his mentor, a serious expression on his face.

"Wukong." MK said, and Wukong stiffened, his nervous smile growing wider at the sound of MK saying his name instead of his title.

"...Yeah?" Wukong said, chuckling nervously as MK's look darkened.

"...I'm getting Sandy."

"Wait, no no no-"

The rest of the day was spent cleaning up Wukong's room, sorting through the piles upon piles of stuff.

Wukong, in a bout of spite, still slept on the roof anyways.

-

Yin and Jin stared in shock at the scene in front of them.

Everyone in the house knew that Wukong and Tang adamantly avoided doing their share of the chores. (The roof-pushing incident was still fresh in everyone's minds, after all).

So that's why seeing Wukong doing the laundry was very out of place.

"...What are you two staring at?" Wukong asked, snapping the twins out of their shocked reverie.

"It's just....weird to see you doing the laundry, that's all." Yin said, and that-

Well, surprisingly enough, that made Wukong actually pause.

"It is?" He asked, slowly setting the laundry basket down on the ground, subtly nudging it under a nearby table so that it was now out of view.

"Well, I mean, with how you and Mr. Tang utilize every method possible to avoid doing the chores, we never thought we'd actually see you doing one." Jin said.

"...I see." Wukong said, quietly. "Well, in that case. You two saw nothing."

"Wha-"

Not giving them a chance to respond, Wukong flashed a peace sign, then vanished, leaving the twins to sputter in disbelief.

(Later, Macaque returned to the laundry room to pick up the clothes he'd left behind.)

-

Syntax paused as he stared at the sight before him.

"...What is this?" He ased, drawing the attention of the occupants in the living room.

"A braid train!" MK replied, and honestly, that's what it was. MK sat on the floor, braiding Bai He's hair, Bai He braiding Red Son's, who was braiding Mei's hair. Mei pulled one hand out of Spider Queen's hair to give Syntax a little wave before returning to braiding the queen's hair. Spider Queen gently weaved Huntsman's hair into a braid that looked above professional level. Huntsman was twisted at an odd angle in order to put some braids in Sandy's beard. And Sandy carefully created some tiny braids in Wukong's fur."

"I....see." Syntax said, holding up his phone and taking a quick picture before any of the braid train participants could notice.

"Do you wanna join?" MK asked, "You can either braid my hair or get yours braided by Monkey King. Your choice."

Syntax took a moment to think about it.

He ended up braiding MK's hair.

-

There was someone in the shower.

Now, usually, this wouldn't be such a mind-boggling thing, but-

All of the house's occupants stared at the bathroom door in trepidation.

"You sure Wukong didn't just accidentally leave the shower on again?" Princess Iron Fan asked, prompting some indignant sputtering from Wukong, who was sitting on Demon Bull King's shoulder. MK shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm sure I heard someone moving in there." He said, crossing his arms.

"Why don't you or Monkey King just use your true sight and get this whole mystery over with?" Jin asked.

"Yeah, we've already been waiting for like, 20 minutes." Yin said.

"They're in the shower." MK said, "I'm not just gonna invade their privacy like that, regardless of who they are."

The shower turned off, and everyone turned to stare at the door again, in silence. There was some rustling around, and then the door opened.

Macaque. It was Macaque. Who, upon realizing that literally the entire household was standing in front of him, froze.

And then immediately tried to turn and run.

"Oh no you don't." Wukong said, jumping off of Demon Bull King's shoulder, and outright tackling the other monkey to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I live here?" Macaque said, sitting up and shoving Wukong off of him.

"You turned down the invitation to come and live with us though...." Wukong said, slowly standing back up. ".....How long have you been here?"

"Two weeks."

"Two weeks?!" Everyone went into various states of shock.

"How could we not have noticed you?" MK asked.

"You- you did notice me though." Macaque said, "Like, we had a whole conversation in the kitchen at around 3 AM."

"You think I remember what happens at 3 am?!" MK said, holding his head in his hands, and Red Son comfortingly patted him on the back.

"What happens at 3 AM stays at 3 AM." Red Son said, sounding like he was saying some ancient wisdom despite the actual sentence being utter nonsense. Yin and Jin snapped their fingers as a look of realization appeared on their faces. 

"That's why we saw Wukong doing the laundry the other day." Yin said, "It was Macaque in disguise!"

"....Yeah, I figured you'd notice if I didn't do some chores, just to clean up after myself." Macaque sighed, and Pigsy turned to glare at Wukong and Tang.

"See? Even the ex-villain does more chores than you two." He said, and Wukong and Tang purposefully looked away, whistling innocently.

"Wait." Mei said, "If you've been here for two weeks, and we haven't seen you use any of the bedrooms... then where have you been sleeping?"

As it turned out, Macaque had been spending his nights in the storage closet, curled up in the darkest corner of the room with nothing other than a blanket and a small pillow. The others, of course, deemed this as unacceptable, and pretty much near shoved him into one of the leftover bed rooms.

...Which he didn't even end up using that night, as it ended up being a night where everyone ended up falling asleep in the living room, blankets and pillows strewn about everywhere.

The next morning, Macaque wasn't there when the others woke up, and there was a brief moment of panic over the monkey's whereabouts-

And then said monkey walked back into the room, using the shadows to help him carry some trays with breakfast on it.

He paused when he registered that everyone was staring at him.

"....What?" He asked, "I woke up first, that means I had breakfast duty, right?"

"I mean.....yeah." MK said, graciously accepting his plate of food. "But, to be honest. I kinda expected you to burn it like Monkey King did."

"Hey, I did that on purpose. For Red Son." Wukong said, "Cause, y'know. He likes charred food. Apparently."

"You did not do that on purpose and we all know it." Pigsy said, "You were just as unaware of Red Son's dietary habits as the rest of us."

"...I literally just woke up and I'm kinda feeling attacked." Red Son mumbled, sitting up. "Should I feel like I'm being attacked?"

"No, you're fine, we're just calling out Wukong again." Spider Queen whispered to him, and Red Son hummed before rolling back over, clearly intending on getting a few more minutes of rest despite the argument starting to occur in the room. Macaque, for his part, remained standing frozen, with MK standing beside him, nibbling at the food on his plate.

"....Should I be concerned about this?" Macaque asked, staring at the fight taking place. MK shrugged.

"Nah." He said, "This is just the same shit as always."

[gallickingun]

legacy || dragon prince!kirishima

SUMMARY: After an arranged marriage to the Prince of Dragons, Kirishima Eijirou, you decide you do not want to live your life in a loveless relationship, so you attempt to get to know him. After some time, you realize that he was keeping something very important from you. How are you supposed to help him if he won’t come clean?

PAIRING: Dragon Prince!Kirishima x Princess!Reader RATINGS: M/E+ WARNINGS: language, smut, breeding kink (so much breeding), etc. WORD COUNT: 13.5k+

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | mobile | writing tag

Author’s Note: This is a prompt fill for THESE prompts that I just couldn’t chill out with. I didn’t want this to get confused with @makoodles​ Dragon Dick Kiri! This Kirishima has normal anatomy 👀 but go give her’s a read as well, it’s so frickin’ good. 

༶•┈⛧ ┈♛ ♛ ┈⛧┈•༶

An arranged marriage to the Prince of Dragons wasn’t how you saw the start of the rest of your life going.

You expected to have more time before you would be called to responsibility, to the throne, to your people. You wanted to live your life, to frolic through the meadows and taste the sweet mead drinks the cooks are always going on about. You wanted to be free.

You did not want to find yourself forced into a white dress, a bunch of flowers in your hand, as you recite the sacred betrothal vows to a man you’ve never met before.

His name is Kirishima Eijirou.

At least he’s handsome.

And beyond his good looks, Kirishima has a charming air about him as well. He is kind to all the servants and never asks for their help unless it’s entirely required. He even goes so far as to request separate bedrooms for the two of you, knowing exactly what might be expected of you if you were to sleep together.

When you approached him about it, he bowed his head, “I know that you did not enter this matrimony by choice, milady. I would hate to force you into anything you did not ask for.”

You would be lying if you denied that your heart skipped a beat.

Kirishima makes himself useful around the castle, tending to the gardens with the other landscapers, using his enhanced strength and hard, scaly skin to chop down trees and uproot stumps. He even brings the ladies in the kitchen spices from other parts of the kingdom and animals that the other hunters had not been able to slay.

His fierce instincts and amazing strength have made him quite the match for the kingdom; almost as if he were exactly what you needed. The citizens have never been more excited for a new king to rise, practically salivating as Kirishima passes through the town on his daily walks. You watch on from your tower window, leaning over the edge of the cobblestone to squint as you make out his bulky frame mounting a horse and exiting the castle gates.

Many a night passes and you feel uneasy at the distance between you. He is your husband, and yet you are sure that you have not had a conversation lasting more than a few syllables with him. You are sure that even the commoners know him better than you do.

Everyone in the kingdom adores Kirishima, although they could care less for the mouthy knight he’s brought along with him. A blonde, stout man you’ve come to know as Bakugou Katsuki. He is Kirishima’s protector and right-hand, following him around like a shadow, throwing his opinions and criticisms out with little care to the sensitive ears they may fall upon.

“Bakugou?” you ask one afternoon, crossing your arms as you stand beside him, Kirishima helping to dig trenches using his scaled, hardened hands. You tilt your head to consider the blonde, your irises finding a crimson color, harsh and unbending, much unlike your betrothed’s warm gaze, “Does Kirishima care for me?”

His throat bobs and a strangled sound comes from it, “Excuse me?”

“Kirishima keeps his distance from me,” you muse, licking your lips as you turn from him to focus on the man you find yourself fascinated with even more as each day passes. “I just want to know if he is uncomfortable around me.”

“That’s one word for it.”

You unceremoniously smack his arm, “Stop being belligerent and answer me!”

“Bloody hell,” Bakugou takes a step away from you, “yes, Kirishima is uncomfortable around you, but not for the reason you think, wench.”

Your narrowed eyes spur him to speak again, “He thinks fondly of you, if that’s what you wish to know. Eijirou just has a strange way of showing it. Now, can we please stop talking about this emotional shit?”

There is no answer from your lips, only the absence of your presence at his side. Bakugou huffs out a relieved sigh and watches as you hitch your skirt up and run towards his friend and ruler. He shakes his head when you stumble into Kirishima’s arms, rolling his eyes as he begins his afternoon patrol of the grounds.

“Whoa,” the prince’s arms are sturdy as he catches you before you can face plant into the trench he’s dug, “are you okay?”

Your body relishes in the warmth he provides, fingers clinging onto his shoulders, feeling the ridges of the hard, corded muscle beneath you, “Y-Yes, I am fine! I need to ask you something, though.”

“Yes, Princess?” Kirishima, ever the gentleman, holds you steady, guiding you back to some sense of normalcy. He is fighting a smile at your bedraggled appearance, the corners of his lips twitching as he looks down his nose at you, the black metal guard around his face making his features even more sharp.

The core of you churns with molten lava at the sight of his handsome features, the tendrils of smoke from the sloshing heat curling up your throat until it forces your mouth open, “W-Would you like to go for a picnic?”

Kirishima has never looked more surprised and amused. His hand absentmindedly rubs over your elbow and bicep, sending small jolts of electricity through to your bones until you can feel them rattling around in the cage of your body. He stutters when he speaks, “A-A picnic? As in, eating together? A-Alone?”

“Yes,” you flush, your cheeks burning brightly at the confession, “I think we’ve earned a little time away, don’t you think?”

His face goes the same color as his hair, his pink tongue passing over his lower lip as he considers you, shifting uncomfortably from foot-to-foot as he chooses his words wisely, “Princess, you don’t have to humor me. I know my place.”

“Your place is with me,” you bolster your spine so you can look him in the eyes, barely distracted by the small scales that cover his temples and jawline. “And I want to know my husband. Is that a crime? Shall you have me thrown in the dungeon?”

The black pupils in the center of his orbs dilate, his shoulders shifting as he considers your words and your tone. Kirishima shakes his head after he’s processed what you’re saying, taking a step closer so your chest almost brushes his when you take heaving breaths, “No, I think it sounds like a wonderful idea. How does veal and fruit sound?”

“Like heaven.”

It is not much later in the afternoon when Kirishima stops by the stables to collect you, a woven wicker basket cradled in one of his hands, full to the brim with a plethora of things hidden under the lid. He packs the basket and a few blankets onto the backside of the horse that he brought with him when he merged his belongings with yours. He pats the horse’s backside, “All right, Red. Be nice. This is the princess you’re carrying.”

You laugh, covering your mouth with your palm as you step forward. Your free hand brushes over Red’s snout and down her mane, “And that’s the prince, you know. Precious cargo.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve got my thick skin,” he shrugs, reaching out a hand for you to take, “plus Red knows I’m the one with the sugar cubes, so she’ll be sweet on me.”

Your palm rests in his as you stride towards him, the proximity of your bodies now intoxicating as his natural heat radiates between the two of you. The base of your throat bobs as emotion gathers in your esophagus, cutting off your breathing. Your eyes flutter somewhere between open and closed when you try to look at him directly, unable to focus when he’s so close to you.

Kirishima is no small man, your eye-level meeting his collarbones. His hands dwarf yours easily, his stout body thick with muscle and sinew, dense bones holding him together. You suppose it’s thanks to his animalistic ancestry.

Each kingdom descended from some form of ancient animal, and Kirishima’s was the dragons. And so, he inherited the qualities of that very beast, starting with his intense body heat and the scales that litter his skin in small patches. They are black in color at a first glance, but when he shifts beneath the sunbeams, you notice they have a red iridescence to them. You are thankful to find that he has no tail or snout, saving those features for a much more human-looking set.

Kirishima rests his palms on your hips, almost able to wrap his digits completely around the circumference of your waist as he hoists you onto his horse. His quaking digits roam down the thick of your thigh, thumbs brushing up against the skin to treasure it. You have to stop yourself from keening into his touch, seeming desperate, by white knuckling your hands around the saddle.

He clambers up after you, slinging one leg before propping himself up to rest behind you. Leaning forward, he grabs the reigns, his chest pressing firmly into your back. You force yourself to regulate your breathing, the scent and feel of him making your head dizzy. Kirishima scoots forward and the curve of his crotch is pressing into your spine as he spurs Red forward with a gentle slap of the reigns.

You squeal, your hands instinctively reaching out to wrap around his forearms, the tips of your fingers dragging over the dark scales he sports at the junctures of his arms. His muscles twitch under your touch and your breath hitches. The bottom of his chin is hovering just above your shoulder, his cheek threatening your personal space while his chest falls flush with your back, “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry,” you manage an awkward laugh, blinking to clear your vision. “Sorry, I just wasn’t ready.”

Kirishima holds the reigns in one hand, using the other to wrap around your waist, effectively silencing you as your heart beats heavy in your chest, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

It is easy to melt back into him, a shuddering breath making your shoulders shake. You rest your hands over the top of his thick arm, thumbs finding his veins and bones to trace while you wait for your end destination to come in sight. You avoid paying too close attention to the ebony scales that glimmer in the afternoon sun, shifting from black to red when you look acutely.

The sun is setting when he finally stops Red at the edge of a lake, golden glow shining from the surface of the water and making it difficult to see. Kirishima helps you down before grabbing the picnic basket and tying Red up around the trunk of a tree. In the meantime, you work at setting out the blanket on the ground, tugging out the corners so it’s fully splayed open.

Conversation flows easy for the two of you as you lay out on the ground, face turned toward the sun as is sinks lower in the afternoon sky. You close your eyes and drink in the sunbeams, your hands tucked behind your head. Kirishima is waving his hands around, holding grapes between one set of fingers and a slice of bread in the other.

You laugh, a full-bellied giggle that you have not felt in what seems like years. When the laughter settles, you turn your head to see Kirishima already looking down at you, a soft but sad expression tugging on his features. You tilt your head, blinking a few times before asking him, “What is on your mind?”

“Why are you doing this?” he blurts unabashedly.

The inside of your mouth turns to ash, as if you’ve licked the inside of the oven and can’t get the taste off of your tongue. You swallow the growing lump in your throat and reach a hand up to rub at your face as nerves start to eat away at your belly.

“Can a princess not have a picnic with her husband?” Your voice has risen an octave and it’s obvious he notices because he leans in further, as if silently asking you to further explain. You huff, rolling your eyes, “I just want to get to know you, Kirishima. If we’re to be wed for the rest of our lives, don’t you think we should learn a little about one another?!”

Kirishima sits up straighter, his eyes unable to find a part of you to focus on as his gaze wanders. You turn on your side, reaching out to press your palm to his thigh, but he halts you with his warm touch and saddened words, “I assumed you would have nothing to do with me. Arranged marriages aren’t usually filled with companionship.”

You lean forward, your mouth against his knuckles as you exhale, “I think we’d like each other if we had the chance, arranged marriage or not.”

A silence hangs in the air, Kirishima’s hand heavy beneath yours. You feel the muscles in his leg twitch as your thumb brushes down over his shin. It’s like you are waiting sparks to ignite in midair and take the both of you down, the imminent danger of his response sending a burning chill down your spine. You fear you may have misjudged him, or perhaps his companion misspoke with the intent to turn the two of you against one another.

“Kirishima,” you try again, sitting up on your knees so you can look him in the eyes much easier, “listen, I-”

His thumb against your lower lip gives you pause, your eyes crossing as you try to look down at the offending digit. Kirishima looks up at you, a glimmer in his vermilion irises, “I want you to call me Eijirou.”

Your heart stops beating within your chest at the admission of his given name. You had heard Bakugou say it, and of course when you learned who you would be marrying, you were informed of the nomenclature. However, you never assumed that you would be gifted the privilege to use it so soon.

“Eijirou,” you test it out on your tongue, rolling the name around like honey, “I like that.”

A smile tugs on the corners of his lips and you see the faintest brush of dimples. You lean your body forward to press a kiss to his cheek, just barely brushing the corner of his mouth, “Nice to meet you, Eijirou. I’m your wife.”

He chuckles, reaching out to shake your hand, “Pleased to make your acquaintance. How do you do?”

“I’d be doing much better with some berries between my teeth,” you lean back, brushing your thumb over the back of his palm, “but I’m doing just fine, now that I’ve got you.”

The smile on Kirishima’s face puts the sunshine to shame.

༶•┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

It had been months since that picnic by the lake, and you and Kirishima had grown rather close. He chases your lips behind closed doors and your hands are insatiable as they roam his body beneath his tunic. You know the taste of his skin by heart, and he knows the innermost parts of you better than you do.

So him pulling away now has you perplexed.

You pace back and forth in front of his private chambers, the place where he is allowed to go when he needs to contemplate war plans and farming plots and taxation of the citizens. However, he has been holed up behind the thick wooden door for six days straight, and you know that something is wrong.

Bakugou is posted up in front of the door, a mess of limbs as he whittles away at a slab of wood, working on turning it into something much more intricate. His head raises so he can roll his eyes at your unease, “Relax, Princess. He’ll be out of there in another week or two.”

“What does that even mean?!” you snap, your eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. You feel yourself breaking from the inside out – you thought you had made so much progress, that maybe you and Kirishima were really moving forward, learning how to co-habitate and rule together. Your voice is crazed and you throw your palms face-up towards the knight, “Weeks? This is absurd!”

You narrow your eyes at the door like it has wronged you, keeping you from your lover, and you are barreling towards it before Bakugou can stop you.  

“Eijirou!”

Bursting through the door, you’re surprised to find that he is not sitting at his desk, pouring over world maps and charts. Rather, he’s not anywhere to be seen at all. You shut and lock the door behind you just as Bakugou has gotten to his feet, narrowing your eyes at him as it clicks shut.

You hear a whimpering sound off in the distance, and you follow it.

There is a secluded area you know is hidden behind the bookshelf – a secret room built by your father so he can escape even the already secretive confines of his study. You pull the familiar lever at the base of the bookcase and the entire structure begins to shudder as the door is opened. A familiar head of red hair is lowered, his chin to his chest as sobs rack his body, broad shoulders shaking as he sniffles.

“Eiji?” your voice is quiet, afraid to disrupt the moment. He is bare at the torso, his hands cradled in front of him, but you can only make out the muscled expanse of his back, “Eijirou, why are you-”

“I-I didn’t want you in here,” he mumbles through labored breaths. When he turns his head you can make out the glistening tears running down his face, “Y-You smell so strongly and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“Excuse you?” Your voice is more of a bark than a question, stepping further into the small space so you’re stood beside him, “I smell? You could have just told me, for Christ’s sakes, Eiji-holy shit.”

Your eyes are drawn to the center of his hips, where he’s currently cradling his cock between his hands. The head of it is engorged and blushed, leaking pearlescent fluid that leaks down the shaft, coating one of the more prominent veins on the underside. Your throat bobs at the sight of him, taking in his girth with your own two eyes, trying to rationalize why you’d never seen his lower body without clothing until just now.

“I-I’m sorry, listen, it’s just…” Kirishima is in tears, his voice strained as he stands to his feet, “I-I’m in a fucking rut and it’s horrible and you shouldn’t have to witness it, let alone be a part of it. I wanted to wait it out in here so I could stay away from you.”

You step closer to him, your hands hovering in midair as you’re not sure which part of him to grab for first. Your entire anatomy is on fire at the visual of his thick cock leaking pre and throbbing with the need to spill his seed. The base of him leads way to a set of weighty balls, and you can only imagine the sheer amount of come that he has stored up in them.

“Stay away from me? Eiji,” you whisper, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He recoils, another sniffle as he turns his head, but you persist regardless, “Am I not your wife? Is this not my job?”

He stands to his feet, his trousers taut against his thighs as he tries to pull them back up his legs, “Exactly! This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you! It’s not a job, Princess, nothing in this realm should ever feel like a job. It should be fun, and I can promise you this won’t be fun for you.”

“Rut?” you redirect the conversation, coming to stand in front of him with your hand on his wrist to keep him from pulling his pants back over his cock. “Wh-Tell me what that means, exactly?”

Kirishima inhales deeply, his chest expanding, and then reaches down to take his dick in his hand, stroking it once to show you the length of it, “It’s whatever part of me is intertwined with dragon, I have these annual cycles where I’m drawn to my-fuck, this is so strange to say out loud-my mate.”

You want to reach down to hold his throbbing length in your hands but the look in his eyes says that he isn’t done. Kirishima gulps as he looks across at you, glittering ruby eyes filled to the brim with emotion, “It’s a mating cycle, outside of that I’m not really sure. I go into a rut for a couple of weeks each year, ever since I went through the change, and my body has this intense desire to impregnate a mate.”

The talk coming from him is oddly arousing, and you find yourself growing slick between your thighs. You hover closer to him now, the head of his cock brushing up against your belly as your hands start to roam over his bare chest, “Please, show me what you need, whatever it is, and I’ll help you. You’re in pain, Eijirou.”

He winces on cue, turning his head before you can see the extent of his discomfort. Kirishima shakes his head, “Listen, I-I’ve been doing this alone for years, I can handle it.”

“Yes, but you don’t have to!” You try and reason with him, reaching up to take his cheeks in your hands, redirecting his attention, “I’m your wife, Eijirou.”

A tear wells up in either of his eyes, making his irises look like they are glittering in the candlelight of the secret room, “Yes, but you’re not my mate.”

Those few words topple you over like a horse has just run over your chest. The breath has been knocked out of you, stolen from your lungs, and you take a step back to steady yourself before you fall. Kirishima’s eyesight falters as he realizes what he’s just said, but he makes no move to correct himself. Rather, he stands taller, straightening his spine like he’s ready to go to war, to lead thousands of men into a battle he’s not sure he can win.

You have a choice to make now – you can stand here and fight, or you can flee through the secret passage and hide in your own chambers until his rut is over.

“Eijirou,” you grit your teeth, tears flowing down your cheeks, and look him in the eyes, “I’m not leaving you.”

Fight it is, then.

Kirishima looks stunned, so you take advantage of his stillness to rush at him, cupping his face with your hands and bruising his lips in a kiss. His hips roll forward and his cock is sheathed between your thighs, so you squeeze yourself tight around him, grabbing at his wrists before he can pull himself away. The whimper he lets loose from his mouth is wanton, his body practically shivering with the need to swallow you whole.

You kiss him until he’s shaking, his hands white-knuckled as he bars himself from grabbing every inch of your body like his primal nature pushes him to. When you pull away from him, you look up into his eyes and see hesitation keeping his pupils dilated to where you can still make out his crimson irises.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “I-I can’t do that to you, not now, not when I think-”

He stops himself before he finishes his sentence, but in your heart, you know what he’s going to say. You smile, praying that he receives some warmth and comfort from the gesture, and brush your thumbs against his wrists where you hold his hands by his sides, “You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

It’s as if he’s resigned himself to this truth, that you will not leave unless he forces you, and he does not believe that it’s his place to coerce you into doing anything you haven’t already decided for yourself. Kirishima stands tall and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as if taking in the moment. You hear him count a few numbers in an ancient dialect before he peels back his lids and his darkened eyes meet yours, lust swirling around like thunderclouds and his irises have deepened to a maroon shade.

“Are you sure?” he asks, one final time, hands still by his sides, “Once we start, I might not be able to stop.”

That sentence alone is enough to send a chill down your spine.

You nod, trying not to seem too eager by keeping your feet flat to the ground, “Yes, Eijirou, please. I want you to do whatever you need to, please use me.”

The sound of your voice so willing and wanton makes Kirishima’s blood run hot in his veins, thudding against his ears until he can hardly hear anything else. He steps forward, his chest flush with yours, and his shaking hands finally make contact with your body.

He is insatiable when he finally grabs a hold of you, palming at you like an animal. Kirishima captures your mouth in a searing kiss, moaning as soon as your lips part in a gasp. He backs you into the desk he was sitting against when you first came in, your ass knocking against the wood in his haste. A low growl bubbles up in his chest until he nips at your lower lip and you whimper, then the sound fades to a moan.

“Fuck, Princess,” he whispers hoarsely, eyes already blitzed out as he looks down at you, “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes are wide as you blink up at him, your fingers in his hair to sift through the dark red strands. You find yourself nodding your head eagerly, squirming up onto the top of the desk to give him a better angle. Kirishima smiles wide enough that you can see his sharper canines, gums bared as he grins. He lowers himself to his knees, and something about seeing him in such a vulnerable position makes your head spin.

Kirishima pushes the hem of your skirt up and over your thighs, bunching up the material in one hand as the other parades over your soft undergarments. He visibly shivers when the pad of his middle finger brushes over the wet patch on the fabric, his tongue parting his lips as he dampens them.

He mutters a string of ancient curse words in a dialect you cannot comprehend, but it still arouses you, nonetheless. You help him with your dress, tucking it behind your back, before reaching out to run your fingers through his hair, tugging him closer to your core.

You give him a soft, “Eiji, please,” before you hear the tearing of fabric, and your cunt is bared to the cold air.

A gasp parts your lips, but you throw your head back when his tongue first makes contact with your slick folds. You whine into the air, the sound dying out as it travels, and your grip in his hair tightens to a pressure that should be painful, but his thick skin gives him a better barrier for pain.

Kirishima hums against your clit, running the coarse pad of his tongue over the sensitive bud before diving back into your sopping core. He moans as your taste coats his tongue, bringing one of his hands up to your belly so he can brush his thumb along your clit for further stimulation, the coarse feeling of his scaled elbow grating over your thigh giving you goosebumps. His free set of fingers dig into every part of your leg that he can find, roaming from your calves to your thighs to your ass, kneading the plush skin beneath his hardened fingertips.

You clench around his tongue, the thick muscle stimulating even the deepest parts of you. You mewl out his name, uncaring as to how loud you’re being, which only seems to spur him on, the pace of his tongue quickening as his thumb grinds mercilessly against your clit. You cant your hips upward against his mouth, begging for even more friction, and he chuckles, the sound sending reverberating pleasure through your core.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” Kirishima’s voice is gentle as he turns his attention to your thighs, kissing the innermost parts as he slips a thick finger between your folds, “I want you to come undone for me, yeah? Think you can do that?”

A nod brings your vision back down to him, to look into his eyes as you rock against his knuckles. He bares his teeth to your thigh before sucking your supple skin between his lips. The combination of pleasure from your cunt mixed with the pain from his biting and sucking of your thigh brings you closer to your high, your vision blurred by ecstasy. You moan, tightening every muscle in your body in hopes that it will push you over the edge, but Kirishima’s hand runs over your taut skin in a soothing motion, rubbing the pads of his fingers deep into your muscles as if to try and calm you down.

“Relax,” he kisses over the dark red mark now splotched against your thigh, “I’ve got you, I’m gonna take care of you.”

You believe him, between his earnest expression and the honest hoarseness behind his words. You swallow thickly, forcing the growing lump in your throat back down into your chest. The contours of your body are less noticeable once you’ve eased your muscles, and Kirishima takes it as a sign for him to quicken the pace of his fingers in your pussy, leaning forward to suck at your clit with his teeth and tongue.

He can feel your walls tightening as he stretches you out with another finger, the spongy texture of your insides giving away the closeness to your end. Smirking around your skin, Kirishima hums, sending you crashing carelessly towards your orgasm.

The sound of his name falling obscenely from your lips makes his cock harden and twitch between his legs. He grunts as he ruts forward against your shin, the head of his dick smearing pre-come against your smooth skin. You suck in a breath at the feeling, falling forward so your lips are in his hair, whispering murmurs of praise and begging as you feel your core writhe with pleasure.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, hearing your whines from above, “c’mon, Princess, come for me.”

You do as your told, the glutinous walls within you coated with your arousal, milky fluid seeping from your body until it has coated his palm. Kirishima reaches up with his clean hand to thread it through your hair, pulling you gently so he can stand to his feet. You watch as he pumps his cock with the palm that is slick with your silvery strands of spend, the head of him engorged and angry red in color. Your mouth salivates at the thought of him splitting you wide open with the thick girth of him, and for a moment you’re unsure if you’ll be able to take him as easily as you originally believed.

Kirishima wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you to him so he can hoist you off of the desk and walk you towards the small bed staggered in the corner of the room. He lowers you down easily, the rippling muscles of his biceps drawing your eye as he strains himself to keep you safe. You lean up and kiss him on the mouth, swallowing his growling sounds into the recesses of your throat so they may thrum up and down your spine, sending a second shock-wave towards your core.

You notice that Kirishima is eyeing a very specific point on your throat as he leans back onto his thick thighs, taking in your already weakened body. You reach up and palm at his chest, redirecting his attention to your eyes, “Eijirou, what is it?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss up from your navel to your chest, “you’re just beautiful.”

His words make your body blush from head to toe, your feet curling up as he shuffles himself out of his pants. You take the moment to hoist your dress over your head, both of your clothes left in a pile on the floor as you reconnect your bodies with a kiss.

Something about this time makes his skin hotter to the touch, you notice, and his muscles are practically ripping at the seams, threatening to bust out if he tries any harder to keep himself restrained. You lick at the fullness of his lower lip, “Eijirou, I need you. Please.”

The pleading nature of your voice only feeds his feral nature, the instinctive side of him wanting to rip you to shreds until you’re screaming his name, crying fat tears as he presses into you and fills you to the brim with his spend. Kirishima has to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off the primal need that stirs him, instead focusing on the way his heart beats faster when you’re around, and how the glimmer in your eyes never ceases to amaze him.

Kirishima angles his hips backward so he can push the tip of his cock between your sopping heat, his restraint feathering out the deeper he slides into you. A gentle gasp from your lips stops him, his hips stilled as he peels his eyes open to look down at you, “A-Am I hurting you?”

“No, fuck, Eijirou, I want you,” you scramble to grab at whatever part of him you can find, fingernails digging roughly into his biceps, “I need you in me, I need you to take me. I’m yours.”

That is the last straw to break the proverbial camel’s back. Kirishima sheathes his cock within your heat with one smooth stroke, the stretch of your tight pussy making the shaft of his dick throb noticeably. You reel forward, your forehead smacking into his chest at the sudden obtrusion from within you. Your body takes over then, trying your hardest to kiss and lick and touch any patch of skin that is close enough.

The prince wraps an arm around your back, holding you sturdily with a palm splayed out between your shoulders, easily keeping you in place as he starts to jut his hips forward, “So fuckin’ tight, angel, such a good little girl, takin’ my cock like this. Fuck I want to-”

He stops himself by dropping his forehead to your shoulder, whining as his thick cock pounds repeatedly into your pussy. You grab at his hair to pull him away from you, desperate to look him in the eyes, “Eiji, tell me.”

There are tears settled in the corners of his irises with the desperate need for more that his body cries out for. Kirishima shakes his head and kisses you on the mouth, nails biting into your back as his cock makes your insides keen. He loses himself in the stretch of you, the tightness of your core making his whole body boil, his skin teeming with sweat as he rucks into you.

“Damnit,” he whimpers as you clench around him, drawing his dick back into your core as he tries to snap his hips backward, “I want to breed you, so fuckin’ bad, Princess.”

It is like he expects you to retreat once he’s said it, as if the thought of it might scare you off. On the contrary, all it does is spur you forward. You kiss him like your life depends on it, rolling your hips up to meet his until he is stroking the hidden part of you near your spine, the head of his cock inflamed and beading with pre-come even as he’s buried to the hilt within you.

The weight of his balls is more intense now, throbbing with his seed, slapping into your ass as he ruts forward, taking your body and molding it with his intentions. You hiss as the veins forking along the underside of his cock drag salaciously against your folds, but he merely takes advantage of the parting of your lips to delve his tongue into your mouth. He maps out each of your molars and then down to the back of your throat, moans spoken into the confines of your jaws so that the world may never hear them, only you.

You know that you are going to have to be the one to tell him that this is okay, that you want him to destroy your body with his touch. Every hair stands on end, even with him holding back, and you can only imagine how worked your bones will feel once he’s actually given you his all. Kirishima is feverish around you, hot and sweating as he works the both of you towards the point of coming undone. You relinquish yourself from his kiss, leaning your head back so you can look him in the eyes.

“Breed me, Eijirou,” your voice is hoarse when you speak, near cracking as you beg him, desperate tears glittering in the corners of your eyes, “I want you to fill me up with your come, please. Stuff me full of it.”

Kirishima’s palm rests at your abdomen, and you notice it for the first time. You wonder what is going through his mind; if he is thinking about the way his cock fills your stomach, or if he is plagued by the idea of you full with his child, pregnant and swollen at the navel. He rubs the heel of it over the expanse of your belly, finding every available patch of skin to caress with his touch, the hardened tips of his fingers raking thin red lines into your skin.

A part of you wants them to never go away, marking you as his, letting all the others know who you belong to.

“I want your baby, Eiji. Won’t you give me one?” Your voice is quiet, timid, unsure if this is how he wants this night to go. You lick your lips and look up at him bashfully, tiny tear tracks spilled over your cheeks in rivulets, “I want you to breed me full, Eijirou. I want you to fill up my cunt with your seed until I’m dripping, please, won’t you?”

Your begging mixed with his feral desire brings his teeth down to your neck, bared but not piercing, not yet. He whimpers as he slips his mouth closed, nosing over the area, licking at it like an animal, “You’d be so pretty when you’re full of me, absolutely beautiful.”

You turn your head so you can kiss him on the temple, feeling his hesitation beneath the pads of your fingers, “I’m your wife, Eiji, but I want to be your mate, too.”

A strangled sound is mangled in his throat, but he pulls away from you to look you in the eye nonetheless, “Wh-What are…Princess, listen, I don’t want you to think-”

“I love you.”

His irises engulf his pupils as his eyes widen, stuttering breaths parting his lips. His gaze is frantic, unable to find one part of your face to hone in on, the three words that you’ve uttered into the air giving him serious pause. His heart starts pumping furiously in his chest, threatening to beat right out of the cage of his ribs if he isn’t careful to calm it.

You are frightened that you’ve been too honest, that you’ve bared your soul too far and there is no coming back. Fear forces your words down into your chest, unable to cry out an apology at going too far too soon. Your hands on his arms pull away, digging into the sheets so you have something to take out your inner turmoil on.

“Y-You want…” Kirishima shakes his head, swallowing thickly so his throat bobs, “You want me?”

The incredulous snort that makes your nostrils flare cannot be contained. You look down to where he is balls deep in your cunt, and then back up to hold his gaze, “Eijirou, is that really even a question?”

He’s stuttering out some sort of response, but you can’t be bothered to listen, so you drag him forward by the nape of his neck, cementing your mouth to his. You wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into the firm muscle of his ass to pull him back to you, to encourage his movements. Kirishima is tentative this time, unsure of himself but his animalistic nature still brings him back to pump his cock within your heat.

“I love you,” you murmur into his lips, twirling your fingers through his hair, “if you love me too, then I want whatever you have to offer, whatever you need to give me so I can finally be yours.”

With every word you speak, the animal gnawing at the back of Kirishima’s consciousness grows less tame. It is begging, with claws at his throat, to take you for all you’re worth, until you’re bone dry and pleading for him to relinquish you. He bares his teeth and the instinct curling around his spine, making him seem stronger, wider, somehow gives way to the true nature of this rut he’s told you about.

It’s a mixture of excitement and fear, and you feel a rush of heat flood your core.

Kirishima groans, gnashing his teeth as he drops his head so your foreheads are pressed to one another. You can sense he’s still holding back, still a touch embarrassed, so you knead your fingers into the tops of his shoulders, begging with the touch of his muscles for him to claim you once and for all.

“Kiri,” your voice is strong even though you’re whispering, “what do you want to do to me? Don’t you want me?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” Kirishima kisses you soundly on the mouth, as if he must reassure you, as if you were doubting him. “I want you, every day for the rest of my life. B-But I can’t…a mate is for life, angel.”

The way he says it suggests that you don’t already know, or that it may come as a surprise to you. You smile, wrapping your arms around his back so you can lean up, arching your spine so your torsos are flush with one another. You’ve never felt the desire to be so close to someone, but it is as if this is not even close enough. You wish there were a better way to prove to him that he is the end of the line for you, that you could never want anyone else.

“I love you,” you repeat, palming the corded muscle of his back as if it might pump the confession into him by the osmosis of your sweat, “You are the first thing I want to see in the morning when I wake, and the last thing I gaze at in the night before I fall asleep. You are the end to all my beginnings, Eijirou.”

Kirishima groans at your confession, his needy body unable to create the same kind of eloquent response as he holds his hips still, unwilling to ruin your beautiful moment. His nose brushes along the bridge of yours, a question lodged in his throat and unwilling to be bared. You nudge the bow of your lips against his cheek, murmuring kind praises into his ear, “Tell me what you want, what you need, Eijirou. I want to give it to you, whatever it is.”

“C-Can I mark you?” his voice is bedraggled, just on the cusp of breaking.

“Please,” you ask of him, craning your head so your neck is available. “I want to be yours, and I want everyone else to know.”

It seems that is all the encouragement he needs, baring his fanged teeth to the thin skin of your neck, tongue tracing over your jugular as he prepares the area for his biting kiss. He nudges his nose against your earlobe, that same ancient tongue from earlier sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks.

You are not prepared for the searing pain that rips through your body when he finally tears into you. A cry parts your lips and your cunt squeezes him so tightly that he almost slips from within you. Your hand rips through his hair, the other occupied with his shoulder, nails bludgeoning his hardened skin until you draw blood. You want to throw your head back but you know that will only make it all worse, his teeth will shred your skin until you are but a flayed piece of meat lying beneath him.

“Kiri,” you whine, turning your head to nestle you lips into the edge of his hair that curls around his ear, kissing at whatever surface you can find.

He hums in response, unable to give you words as he sucks and pulls at the skin. You feel your mind cloud the longer he has dug into you, the tendrils of need writhing around your cerebrum until you can no longer think clearly. The one thing on your mind is the very thing between his legs, and you whisper words of want into his ear, praying that he can hear you through his animalistic marking.

The palm of his hand digs further into your belly, until he can feel the tip of his cock underneath his fingers. Kirishima growls around your neck, the timbre of his voice shaking your very bones. You swallow, dipping your fingers further into the skin of his shoulders, “Kirishima, move.”

His hips are listening even if he does not give an indication that he’s heard you. He uses his hands to prop up your legs, the tips of his digits bruising your skin with their intensity, until your knees are almost parallel with the mattress. The only reason they aren’t digging into your chest is because he’s still slotted there, gnashing away at the sensitive skin of your neck. His body is lumbering and thick, dense from his neck to his ankles.

Kirishima makes you feel small, in every sense of the word. Even as a princess, you did not feel dainty, you’ve never been a precious flower that someone else has to protect. You’ve always stumbled a little, faltered when you should be standing upright, and your parents have had to reprimand you for your unladylike tendencies more than once.

But here, lying underneath his hulking form, your fingers seem tinier, more elegant, and even as your knees dig into his ribs, he does not falter, does not wince. You cannot put him in pain, between his hard exterior and his intense primal nature, and it makes you feel like a porcelain doll.

And once his cock plunges back within your tight, wet heat, you are reminded of how massive he truly is.

The tip of his cock butterflies you wide open, shattering your limited stretch and prying you open with each quivering inch of his thick girth. He overwhelms you, so much so that your head topples backward to dig further into the pillow, as if running away from him might soothe the ache between your legs. Even that is a mistake, because once you’ve shifted, his teeth scrape down the sensitive skin of your collarbones, angry red marks left in their wake.

He leans back to examine his hard work, eyes roaming the juncture of your neck and shoulder where the shape of his teeth is like a shadow. A guttural growl emanates from his throat, the air sparking with electricity at the sound of it. You swallow the thick, pent-up arousal in your throat and breathe heavily, somewhat thankful to be rid of his mouth even though a part of you would frenetically like to bring it back. Your throat is throbbing, and you think you could count the number of teeth he was able to sink into you based on the pain of it alone.

“Princess,” he gasps as he takes in the pulsating mark now claiming you as his, “I-I’m sorry, d-did I-”

You shake your head and pull at him in every way possible, your body crying out for more of him in every sense of the word. Kirishima moans as you kiss him again, pushing your tongue between his teeth to try and taste the familiar warmth of his mouth. You moan, your body finding his easily, comfortable and wanting as you careen forward, the throbbing circular mark on your shoulder long forgotten. You have to come up for air much sooner than you like, still reeling from his marking of your body.

Kirishima’s palm is digging into your stomach again, nails biting into your smooth skin as his cock pulses, and he squints harshly as he pulls away to look you in the eyes. The sight of you splayed out beneath him, completely at his mercy, makes his balls throb and he snaps his hips up into you again out of pure primal need alone. Your body jostles, breasts bouncing and thighs rippling, as his cock bottoms out into your cunt, the tip of him bursting with arousal and finding your cervix.

“Oh shit,” he drops his head to your chest, curling himself upward so your hips are flush, his hip bones bruising your thighs as he unceremoniously crumbles into you. Your hands are on him in an instant, trying to understand what could have possibly happened to make him so vulnerable.

You barely have time to say his name before he’s whining, sucking your nipple between the bite of his teeth out of the sole desire to muffle his needy pants. Your hand sifts through his hair, head thrown back while you enjoy the ministrations of his tongue around your chest. He mumbles out words that you can’t quite make out, but with the way his cock is throbbing between your walls and the motions of his hand and mouth on your breast, you don’t care much to understand what drivel he’s spinning.

It is only when you feel the inside of your body flood with heat that you understand.

“Eijirou,” you call to him, forcing his head away from your nipple with the gentle tug of your hands, “d-did you just-”

He looks like he could cry, his head hung in shame, “Yes.”

You want to laugh at his pitiful nature, but you can’t, not knowing what the would do to his self-esteem. Instead, you roll your hips up to try and milk him of his release, encouraging him to start rocking your body with his arousing rhythm until he is completely spent within you.

“You said you wanted to breed me, didn’t you?” you question roughly in his ear, your head tilted to where he’s tucked into your collarbone. You kiss his hair, desperate to clutch onto him as you feel his cock softening, peeling away from your tight hole. The feel of come seeping from your cunt makes you squirm, “Eijirou?”

Kirishima tilts his head back and looks you in the eyes, reddened orbs practically devastated. He nods, “Y-Yeah, but I just-”

“Again.”

His throat bobs, eyes widening at your notion. He turns his head to survey your body, littered with bruises and bite marks and it hasn’t been but one round of his cock buried to the hilt within you. His eyes catch on the marking on your shoulder and his cock stirs again, “A-Again?”

“Breed me,” you grit between your teeth, “please, Eijirou. I want you to put a baby in me.”

The biting nature of his fingertips is not lost on you as he pushes your thighs back so your knees are pressed into the mattress. His thick body is wavering above you, eyes unable and unwilling to look away from you as he starts to roll his hips again, slowly so he does not lose the slick that he has gathered from the both of you.

Kirishima swallows one last pensive breath and then it’s like a switch has gone off in his mind, like he’s finally letting the caged beast out to take over, controlling his ministrations. You arch your back so you can feel his hardened nipples against your chest, one of his hands slowly creeping up your torso until he’s found the bruised, marred skin of your neck beneath his fingertips.

“Look so beautiful, love,” Kirishima kisses your forehead, like a proverbial final word before he devours you whole. “I can’t wait to wreck this pretty pussy of yours, mark this body up until no one has any question of who you belong to.”

His uncharacteristically harsh words make your core tighten and your toes curl. You nod, starting to beg for it, the words just barely tipping over the edge of your tongue when he clamps his hand down on the mark of your neck. You feel white-hot pain shoot forth from the area, coating your body in a wave of agony as the pulsing spreads downward.

A broken whimper escapes your gritted teeth, eyes screwed shut when his blunt fingernails dip further into the area, almost like he’s testing to see how far you can take it before he has to relent. He is unkind when he grabs your thigh, pushing it up into your chest as he resumes his slow pace from before. His cock is already beginning to harden again, twitching relentlessly against your glutinous walls, coated with both your arousal and his spend.

“Eijirou,” you want to beg for him but you can barely push out the broken syllables of his name. Tears coat your cheeks but you don’t mind the blurred vision as you gaze up at him. It makes him shine, like the starlight he truly is. Your face breaks into a smile, despite the absolute torment you feel wracking your body. You would endure anything for him, any sort of discomfort or torture, if it meant that you could be this close to him forever.

Kirishima kisses you square on the mouth, “Hush, angel, let me take care of you.”

Your jaw snaps shut, the muscles along the angle of your face shuddering under the pressure of your gritted teeth. Kirishima smiles warmly at you, the last shred of his humanity remaining before he plunges his thumb into the direct center of your marking, digging his fingernail into the bruised skin. You yelp, your cunt clenching around his cock as he pushes deeper into you.

The entirety of your body is so compliant, molded around his frame, practically fluid as you conform to the positions his hands push you into. Kirishima licks a heated stripe along the column of your neck, leaving behind a wet patch that runs cold when he breathes over it. You dig your hands back against his shoulders, raking the tips of your nails along the length of his back and shoulders.

Kirishima gasps audibly at the newfound tightness of your core at his ministrations. He uses his free palm to reach down and grind his thumb against your hooded clit. He nudges his nose along your jawline, breathing coming in heavy pants as he pummels you into the soft plush of the mattress beneath your shoulders. The snap of his hips does not let your backside rest, your body hovering a few inches from the mattress.

It’s as if he cannot get enough of you, even so much so that he won’t allow your frame to fall too far from him. Kirishima must keep you close, he has no other option. The feral animal clawing at what little shred of his resolve that remains whispers in his ear to put a new mark on every visible inch of your skin until you are nothing but a black and blue mess, blubbering and begging beneath him.

“Such a pretty little thing when you come undone for me,” Kirishima murmurs against the shell of your ear, the sultry sound of his voice intermingled with his panting sending a rolling wave of pleasure down your spine until your toes are curling around the sheets. “You like it when I’m this deep inside of you? Not letting your pussy breathe?”

You are nodding even if you don’t fully understand what he’s saying. You would agree to anything, that much you are aware of, and you know that he is keen to that fact as well. Kirishima is still careful with you, somehow aware enough of your limitations to revere you and reel himself in when he feels he might be going too far. The blitzed-out look in your eyes tells him all that he needs to know – you have slipped beneath the surface into that subservient headspace that he’s seen you on the cusp of so many times when he’s had you knuckle deep and coming around his fingers. The very essence of his being tells him to work you for every tear, ever drop of arousal, that you can create, to bludgeon your body until you are begging him to give you a moment to breathe, and then deny you of it.

Kirishima’s hand that has been pressed against your wound now turns to curl around your throat, fingers squeezing your neck until you are gasping for breath. Your eyes flutter somewhere between open and closed as your mouth gapes open wide, bobbing like a fish out of water as you struggle to inhale the slightest amount of oxygen. Your hands flop from his body to the mattress, curling around the sheets until he hears them rip between your nails.

“Look at you, Princess,” he nudges your cheek until you’re looking him in the eyes again, “can’t even speak in full sentences. So whipped for my cock, huh? Tell me what you want me to do to you, if you can talk.”

Drool dribbles from either corner of your mouth and when you shake your head, it creates damp splotches on the pillowcase. Kirishima chuckles, pushing the base of his thumb against the fleshy underside of your chin, forcing your head still so he can glower down at you, crimson eyes shining. The heel of his palm stays jutted against your esophagus, limiting your breathing as he loiters over you.

The words that come out of your mouth are mere wheezing syllables, unable to be understood in their broken form. Tears form in your eyes, clumping on your lashes, at the pure frustration that you can’t tell him exactly what you’d like him to do to you. You whine, the sound breaking in the middle when Kirishima tightens his grip on your throat. You peel your eyes open to see a darkness settled in his irises, their normally crimson color turned almost to black in his lustful state.

It should make you upset, that he’s losing himself, but instead, it just stokes the fire in your belly until the flames are raging up into your throat. The smoke of it all builds behind your eyes and in your mouth until you have to open everything, whining and moaning and writhing like your life depends on it. All the while, Kirishima has set a steady, bruising pace of his cock dragging against your walls, the forked veins on the underside of him giving you additional friction. You want to grab at him, to tug on his body until he melts into you, but your arms are limp, practically your whole body is at the intense ministrations of his hands and hips.

Finally, after your vision begins to blur and your eyelids slip closed at the feel of the remaining oxygen leaving your throat, Kirishima relents his grip and a rush of air floods your lungs. You gasp and choke, the motions making your cunt clamp tightly around his cock, giving Kirishima the push he needs to bottom out within you again, holding himself still until you can catch your breath.

“Such a good girl,” Kirishima is whispering the words hoarsely as his mouth roams your cheek and neck and collarbones. He plants wet, sloppy kisses against your skin like he does not have time to think about the affections.

You whine when you feel his tongue dart from between his lips to lavish attention to the wound on your shoulder, the bite mark from his pointed teeth leading way to bruising and little trails of crimson seeping down from your shoulder to the mattress. He licks at it, half out of wanting to hear you moan when he puts too much pressure on the bruise and half out of guilt for hurting you.

His name comes from your lips and it makes his cock stir against your cervix, “Tell me what you want, angel, I need to know.”

You are aware the duality of that statement. He needs to know because he needs permission, even if his current state won’t allow him to admit it. You find it in you to reach a hand up to sift through his hair, palming at the back of his head to give him some ease with your touch.

“I want you to come in me, Eijirou,” your voice is panting, a mix of exhaustion and longing making you sound fatigued. You feel tears push out of the edges of your eyes at the pure need you have for him to make all of this a reality, “Come in me, Eiji, I want you to give me a baby. I want you to breed me until I’m full of your child, over and over again. I want you to fill me up un-ah!”

Kirishima ruts forward and you swear you feel something within you tear at the pure size of him. He nips at your jaw, nosing along your neck, brushing against it whenever he pulses forward. The salacious sounds filling the air only contribute to your arousal, floods of slick washing over his dick as he slots in and out of you.

He grunts, “So fuckin’ tight,” before his hands travel down towards your thighs, pushing them back until he has you folded so only your shoulders are against the bed. You whimper as you turn, your mark pushed against the mattress until it is pulsing with pain.

“I’m gonna come in this tight, wet little hole until you’re leaking, until you taste it.” Kirishima can feel the impending doom of his spend when his cock twitches within your quivering heat. You try and clamp your walls down around him to keep his length sheathed within you for longer, but it’s of no use. He has set a bruising pace that he intends on following through with until you are screaming and his come is coating your soft insides.

Your toes are pointed toward the ceiling, curling downward when he slams into you. The pace of his hips is menacing, something you should fear, because the feel of him makes you think he might rip you open. But, you’re sure you’d let him split you down the middle and you’d still say thank you. Mumbles of incoherent drivel pour from your mouth along with your rivulets of drool and tears.

Kirishima chuckles, “Look at you, a beautiful mess for me, aren’t you, sweetheart? I can’t wait to fill this precious cunt up. I’ll give you as many babies as you can hold.”

The call to your womb must be strong, because he stays slotted within you for a moment, fingers rolling around your thighs as he takes you in. His crimson irises dole over your body, from your plush lips to your plump chest, on downward to the gentle bump of your belly as his cock nudges within you. Kirishima abandons your thighs for your stomach, raking his nails along the unmarked plane of skin, thin angry lines left behind when he pulls away.

You reach forward to wrap your fingers around his wrist, keeping his touch pointed on your navel, “I want to have your baby, Eijirou. All of them, as many as you can give me. Please, I’m just a vessel for you to use.”

His eyes deepen at that sentiment, but something else passes through them. He catches his lip within the bite of his teeth before leaning down to kiss you, palm turned against your stomach so his knuckles drag along your skin, but he can slot his fingers between yours and squeeze.

“You are so much more than that,” he whispers into your mouth, as if the words may stay caged in there forever for you to marinate on them. He kisses your cheeks, the tears sticking on his lips, his voice thick when he speaks, “You’ll be the prettiest mama out there, you know? So beautiful and round, absolutely breathtaking when you have to waddle around, you’re so full.”

Kirishima is close to whimpering, eyes screwed shut as he speaks his heart, “I love you, Princess, god, you mean the world to me.”

Your fingers find purchase against his shoulders, the scratched skin beneath the pads of your digits making you salivate. You’ve marked him, too, even if it’s not the same. You want to spend the rest of your life repeating it over and over, marking him every time he finds you beneath the sheets, so that the others may know that he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him. The two of you are completely intertwined in every facet of the word, limbs and hearts woven into the same piece of soul fabric, begging to be together until the end of time.

The edges of your vision begin to dither as you come closer to your climax. You swallow the lump in your throat and whimper, “Kirishima, I think I might-”

He is listening, the hand not currently wrapped around yours reaching between your slick bodies to thumb at your clit. A bruising kiss is pressed firmly to your mouth, dampening your lewd sounds as you writhe under his bulky body, hardly moving but trying desperately all the same. You can’t help it as your mouth parts to lick at seam of his lips, but he willingly opens his mouth to you, receiving the pointed lapping of your tongue as he slowly begins to rut back into you.

“I want you to beg for what you want,” he gasps into your teeth, the tip of your noses clashing as the sound of his weighty balls slap against the curve of your ass. He can taste the saltiness of your tears as your mouths meld together, and it makes him smirk, “Are you cryin’? Like a sweet little bitch, crying for my cock?”

You want to answer him, to tell him how much you love every part of him, to shower his body in praise until you’ve gone mute, but your throat is hoarse and your mind is hazy, and you can’t form words. Instead, you tilt your head and kiss him harder, your tongue swiping over his as you try to convey how you’re feeling into this kiss, attempting to make his world spin. You want to give him a small taste of what he has done to you, even if it will never truly meet the searing reality of his hold he’s got on you, body, mind and soul.

“Cry for me, darling,” Kirishima coos as his mouth travels down the curve of your jaw until his teeth meet the juncture of your neck and ear, “I want Bakugou to hear you when I stuff your cunt full, all the way from out in the hallway. Gonna put my child in you while you sob for my cock, begging me to keep fucking you deeper and deeper into this bed.”

You can hardly create coherent sentences, between his mouth and hands and cock all working at your relentlessly, the ministrations of his body creating a throbbing euphoria between your hips. You whine at the idea of having to say much of anything right now, let alone an understandable string of words.

His balls are weighty as they slap against your backside, the sound making your throat bob, and he growls, “Beg for me, like the little whore you are.”

The nipping of his teeth against your mouth makes your cunt spasm, and Kirishima lets loose a strangled sound from the back of his throat. Based on the whimpering curtail of his voice, you can tell that he’s close to coming a second time. Your body tenses, every muscle coiled tightly as you edge yourself to a release. You have to close your eyes so the white-hot arousal boiling in your core can’t blur your vision.

“Y-Your come, your cock,” is all you can find yourself repeating over and over, your being too fucked-out to say much of anything else. Hot tears leak down your temples, exhausted sobs making your voice shake when you scream for him, throat close to shattering in its hoarseness.

Kirishima leans back so he can preen, his cock stretching you even further in this position. Your eyes bug out before you can squint your lids closed again. He chuckles, the sound dark and ominous as it reverberates around in the room, “Do you know how fuckin’ hard it’s been to control myself around you? God, I’ve been wanting to fuck you like this for months, breed you like a good little bitch in heat, give you loads of my come until you’re bursting at the seams with it.”

His lewd words are what bring you toppling over the edge, the thought of his come leaking out of your abused pussy, him plugging you up with his cock and rutting up into you again until he’s brought on another release from within himself. Your palms slap his biceps as you grip onto him, afraid he might actually push you through the mattress with the ferocity of his hips. There’s no doubt in your mind that you will have blooming bruises all over your body, marking you up like flowers spread throughout a garden.

“Fucking hell at this sloppy pussy, Princess,” Kirishima’s hands on your thighs tighten, biting deep into the muscle until you swear he hits bone, “I’m gonna breed you up so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. Keep you hidden in here, fuck you endlessly, until you’re begging me to quit.”

“No,” you gasp out, your voice crackling even on the single syllable, “don’t stop.”

Kirishima smirks down at you, “Careful what you wish for, Princess.”

You are shaking your head, silently encouraging him because your voice is shot to hell. You dig your nails into his biceps, shaking him just enough that he understands your subtext, starting to rock his hips against your ass, the thick shaft of his cock slipping along your inner walls as he works you closer to the crest of climax.

It’s just on the precipice of your body, your entire form overheated with the flames of arousal. You want to cry, the end so close and yet feeling so unachievable. Kirishima releases one of your thighs to attend to your clit, the pace of his circling finger matching that of his cock pounding into your heat. With each thrust, you see another wave of stars in the air above you. Even in the low candlelight of this secret room, you can see the glimmering in Kirishima’s irises, as if he has his own galaxy tucked away in his pupils, bringing it out for you and for you only.

Kirishima curses, dropping his head to watch his cock slip from your wet core, silvery strands of slick the only thing connecting him to you now, “Gotta stop clenching so hard, sweetheart,” somehow he manages to push himself back into you, despite the size of your hole. Kirishima grabs one of your ankles and settles it on his shoulder, turning to kiss the joint, “Such a tight little pussy, but so fucking sloppy. You’re dripping.”

His nose nudges along the length of your calf as he picks up his pace, rutting into you with purpose. You wonder how much of his animalistic nature will bleed into the other aspects of your life, but you don’t have much time to ponder before the coiling heat of your orgasm is beginning to build up and cloud your consciousness. Your jaw hangs slack and Kirishima takes the opportunity to slip his index and fourth finger between your lips, the golden ring on his finger cool on the heated pad of your tongue.

“There you go,” he murmurs absentmindedly, tilting his head to consider you. You circle one hand around his wrist, pushing him further into the hollows of your cheeks. His eyes widen at the action and it makes his hips falter in their pacing.

Kirishima can feel the tightening of your cunt around his cock, and the tears in your eyes, and he knows that you’re close, “C’mon, angel, I want you to come on my cock. You feel so fuckin’ good around me, holding me tight.”

You sniffle, drool creating a silvery rivulet down your cheek, “Eijirou, please,” you are whimpering into his knuckles, praying that you don’t bite down on him too hard.

“S’okay,” Kirishima’s voice is kind, in stark contrast to the harsh nature of his dick as it jackhammers into you. “Bite me, I’ll be okay. I just want to make you come.”

Listening to his plea, you grind your teeth together around his knuckles, biting into his skin until you taste metal. The release of pressure gives way to an earth-shattering orgasm, your cunt spasming around his cock until you can feel your arousal seeping out of your body, dripping onto the mattress beneath you. You suck on Kirishima’s fingers, tonguing his knuckles to distract yourself from screaming.

“Good girl,” he coos, thumb grazing your cheek and chin as he continues to rock into your core. You are still gushing when he tenses up, thighs rippling as he readies himself to come for the second time. Kirishima’s voice is hoarse, near a growl as he looks down at you, a blubbering, hiccuping mess beneath him, “F-Fuck, Princess, you’re gonna look so beautiful when you’re full with our child. I can’t wait to stuff you full over and over again, until you’re bursting at the seams.”

You start to plead, your words nothing more than blather, foaming at the mouth as you whine for his spend, tears beading at the corners of your eyes in your desperation. Your nails rake down the length of his muscled back, your heels dipping into the flesh of his ass to keep him pinned to you, for just a moment of reprieve from his agonizingly thick length. The forked veins running along either side of his cock make your walls quiver as your abused insides beg for a break.

When he feels a newfound tightness as he tries to withdraw from you, he seethes through his teeth, “Shit, sweetheart. St-Stop clenching, or else I’ll have to fuck you all over again.”

There’s a pause, a stilling of his body, as he looks down at you, drooling and crying around his knuckles. He chuckles, the sound reverberating his chest in such a way that shakes the very room. Your body tenses at the timbre, eyes struggling to focus on one specific point on his face as he ravishes you with his carmine irises.

“Actually,” he tilts his head, shoving his fingers further down your throat until you are gagging around his digits, “go ahead, push it out, it just means I get to breed this tight little pussy all over again.”

Kirishima leans forward, brushing his mouth against your jaw as he sheathes himself within you inch by inch, slow and salacious, “Don’t worry, I’ll fill you to the fucking brim anyway, angel. You want this load?”

You can’t help the instant wanton words that fly from your mouth, sparking in the midst of the two of you, pouring out of your chest like fire. You whine and keen, sucking his knuckles into the hollows of your cheeks to try and bring him closer to the precipice of pleasure, to give him the same radical sensation that he has given you twice now.

“Give it,” you force the words out despite his thick digits pushing down on the muscle of your tongue, “please, Eiji, I-I want your ba-oh.”

He growls, bludgeoning his cock into your cunt as he starts coming undone within you. A blooming heat starts in your core and blossoms upward until you think smoke may come out of your nostrils. It clouds your mind, the slightest bit of consciousness creeping forward so you can enjoy the way he paints your walls with his spend, filling you just as he promised.

“Take it,” he snarls, sharpened teeth making your back arch, “take my fucking load.”

Your legs wobble, but you keep yourself wrapped around him, allowing him to ride out his pleasure until his hips are sloppy, thighs brushing your bruised ass a final time before he drops his head to your chest. He is hot, unbearably warm, but you endure it because it means he is here.

His hands brush down from the backs of your knees until he is pushing you back into the mattress, allowing your body to rest, limp against the sheets. Kirishima kisses the swell of your breast, imagining how full they’ll be once your womb has been filled and your body starts to change. He could cry at the thought of it, his animalistic side attempting to take over his consciousness, warm at the thought of you carrying on his lineage, giving him heir after heir.

Kirishima hums against your sternum, hands encompassing your sides in full, fingers splayed across your ribs, “Such a pretty little thing, angel. You’re perfect. I love you.”

He starts to pull from you but you whine, clenching around him so tightly that your combined arousal seeps from your cunt, dripping down the curve of your ass. Your nails bite into his biceps, clutching onto him like an anchor, “Please don’t leave me, Eijirou.”

“Hey,” his voice is soothing, nose nudging over your jugular. He presses himself back into you, filling you up even as he starts to soften, “I’m right here, sweetheart. I promise I’m not going anywhere. Not now, and not ever. You’re mine, my mate.”

You swear you see the curling wisps of flames seeping from his teeth and tongue, the dragon in him coming forth in a surge of possessiveness. His eyes drop to the piercing bite adorning your shoulder, a mix of blood and bruising on display, the mating mark stirring his cock within your cunt again and you’re afraid he might already be starting up for a third round.

Tilting your head skyward, you beseech him for his mouth, pursing your lips just enough that he understands your silent plea. Kirishima’s smirk melts into a smile, dimples piercing his cheeks, and he meets you halfway, slotting his mouth to yours. The warmth of your lips meld together, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but you do not care because at least he is buried to the hilt within you and his body is flush with your own. You see stars as you are deprived of oxygen, but this might be the most pleasant way to go – full to the brim of him, his mouth starving you, your entire being swallowed by the essence of him.

“You don’t quit that, I’ll take you again, right now,” Kirishima is growling as his mouth finds your mark again, pressing a harsh kiss to the purpled skin, “You’re so perfect, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you’re not sure what specific event has stirred them on, but you let them fall nonetheless. Kirishima is quick to kiss them away before they can stain your pillowcase, whispering kindness as he brushes his mouth against each of your eyelids, “I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“Always, Eijirou,” you whisper into thin air, your voice reaching his ears and sending a bolt of lightning down his spine, “I’ve always been yours, from the moment I saw you, I belonged to you.”

“And I have always been yours too.” Kirishima brushes his nose against the bridge of your face, “I can’t wait to build a legacy with you.”

-

The thudding of footsteps echoes down the hall, drawing carmine irises up from their previously hooded position. He rolls his eyes, standing to his feet, sword weighing heavy on his belt, “What is it?”

“Very important news,” the younger man’s throat bobs as he stutter steps backward, “The, uh, the ball that’s being held later-”

The blonde wags his finger in midair, a chuckle parting his smirking mouth, “Go find someone else to figure that shit out. You’ll regret it if you go in there now.”

A widened stare follows his finger to the door, where the wood is shaking just enough that he can get the hint. The knight in front of him chuckles, sitting back down in his chair, crossing his leg over his knee, “Yeah, I wouldn’t disturb him during his breeding season if I were you.”

-

a/n: yeah, so this was supposed to be 2k. obviously that didn’t happen, lol. i hope you guys like my first true kiri fic :) 

tagging: @mirakumiruku @kamehamethot​ @1-800-callmekatsuki​ @shoutogepi​ @freckledoriya​ @writeiolite​ @kingtamakimurder​ @cutesuki--bakugou​

[oscar-the-cat-yt]

________________The Hallow_______________

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Head Canons~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Kai is BI. You cannot convince me otherwise.

•His only real parental figure is Davis, his butler.

•His parents aren't there much. But when they are it's constant fighting. From when they wake up, to when they go to sleep.

•He probably has anxiety from this

•Any loud noises, or really anything that reminds him of two or more people loudly arguing will send him into one of those states.

•Davis tries helping. Even getting him some earbuds/headphones. But it doesn't help that much. 

•Kai also usually gets jumpy when his parents are back. Any loud noise and such getz him scared.

•He tries blocking it out with games. Or music.

•He probably actively listens to McCaffrey 

•If those two options don't work, then he'd go over to Adams.

•Did I mention their boyfriends? Well they are. Fight me.

•They definitely help each other cope.

•Kai usually helps Adam when he's sad/feels like he's being a annoyance. 

•CUDDLE BUDS

•Skeet is a emo boi, as well as a skater boi.

•Probably has a drawer of beanies and fingerless gloves.

•Heavy marvel fan

•Him and Mari definitely like each other, they just never said anything about so they don't ruin the friendship they already have.

•His death hit Mari HARD

•On the brightside she's a love goddess.

•100% helped Adam and Kai together.

•Adam asks her Dads for advice.

•Mari always wanted to talk to animals when she was younger, hence why she choose the skill she did.

•Adam reminds me of Robin from Teen Titans, [the good one], and always looked up to him. So acrobatics was the skill.

•He probably definitely had a crush on him from a young age.

•The hero complex with him gets tiring. As well as worrying with school.

•Kai helps with this. Reminding him to eat, sleep, drink, ect.

•They honestly both remind each other of that. Every. Day.

•Their fights are probably about Adam being a bit controlling and Kai being annoying.

•They both immediately regret it and forgive each other.

•Kai is a little ball of fire. Like he may look innocent and funny for the most part, but he will fight you. 

•Definitely scary when he's angry.

•He doesn't like being mad.

•Adam probably has to drag him away from getting into any fights at school.

•Kai definitely dreads school. If not for the people or teachers, then the fact he has to learn stuff he's never going to use.

•He probably got bullied for a bit.

•He has heterochromia. One blue eye, one green eye.

•Adam also probably got bullied for being gay. 

•First friend he ever made was Mari's brother. But only for gaming purposes.

•Reeve and Vanessa are close. Like brother and sister.

•Reeve is a huge sports fan.

•He also likes ballet. Idk, he just gives me that vibe.

•He also loves hip hop.

•Vanessa probably collects dolls.

•or anything considered creep. She's probably a emo girl.

•Her and Skeet both like rock, Vanessa enjoying it more of the two.

•Reeve and Vanessa are beast on the dance floor.

•Party animals.

•Skeet probably has done drugs once. He probably regretted it.

•The group Stayed in touch after the hallow scare.

•Definitely group outings.

•The group chat is CHAOTIC.

•Kai definitely pulls all nighters playing video games. Or last minute homework.

•Weirdy is gay.

•Loves fashion. Makeup? Yes. Clothing? Yes.

•He probably creates new clothing designs in his free time.

•Also was probably musically creative from a young age.

•He's very creative.

•Him and Death are probably dating. If not, then very close homeboys.

•Death loves animals.

• Any animal he sees he must have. Horse? Yes. Dog? Um yeah! A frickin gorilla? Absolutely!!! Just any animal is a huge yes. And a lot of convincing Weirdy.

•He honestly probably runs a small farm. And by small, I mean huge.

•They both, Weirdy and Death, both tell each other about their successes. 

• A designer likes his design? Call death. A acting audition went well? Call death. A animal gave birth? Call weirdy. Just very supportive. 

•They probably live together.

• Kai and Adam are big on hand holding and cheek/forehead kisses.

•Adam can probably play the guitar. He definitely perfers the acoustic.

•Kai tried to learn the drums so they could start a band with the group.

•He gave up after two weeks. But still would love to learn.

•Adam loves books. Anything from Graphic novels to poetry.

•Kai has definitely bought him many books.

•Lots of study and reading dates

•Also gaming and movie dates as well.

•Adam is also a huge fan of comics. Especially Teen Titans.

•They probably attend comic con

•Kai definitely cosplays.

•Honestly their dynamic reminds me of Robin and Beast Boy. So pretty good.

•Weirdy and Death both love coffee. Probably frequent starbucks.

•Kai loves donuts. Gets them every. Single. Day.

•He probably adores the harry potter series. [Not j.k. Rowling tho for obvious reasons]

•Feel like he was self conscious about his hair until he saw Ron.

•Cosplays Ron alot. 

•He's a geek alright.

•He forces Adam to cosplay sometimes to.

•They both love dnd.

•They probably have sessions with the group for DnD. 

•Just a bunch of snacks, a table, and bean bag chairs. As well as character sheets and the other basics for the game.

• David probably joins. And by that I mean give pointers. Either that or he's the game master.

•Kai sometimes skips, [or at least tries to], skip school. Adam always talks him out of it, unless he needs it.

•Falls asleep in classes a lot.

•When he realised he liked Adam, he tried to date Vanessa since he didn't know his sexuality/ Wants to lose this friendship he has.

•When he did come out as gay, flirting 24/7

•Adam knew he liked Kai, but never acted on it. 

•When he does flirt back, Kai's face gets very red.

•Kai definitely is the prankster of the group. Vanessa and revee help.

•Adam tolerates it.

•Reeve and Adam have bro days. They mainly just chill.

•Mari didn't like Kai at first

•Maris favorite color is blue. And her favorite animal is a monkey.

•Okay, hear me out, Weirdy is/was a art teacher. 

•Just, that was the first thing he did with his life, then he grew from their.

•Probably always got the lead roll in a play

• Skeet definitely loves meerkats. Hence why he calls Mari Meerkat. 

•Her nickname for him, apart from Skeet, is emo boy.

•Vanessa is into horoscopes/Astronomy.

• Reeve questions her about it quite a bit, but supports her nonetheless.

•Reeve is on the basketball team. Definitely wants to be either a choreographer or a basket ball player.

•Adam has actively tried to learn karate after the whole, digital, thing.

[likesomekindofcheese]

The BEN-nefits of Fake Dating

Hello! @littlespoiltthing​ it is I!!! Your Secret Santa revealed! Here is a one shot I wrote (with a title inspired by @littlespoiltthing​ ‘s own beautiful work) for @dtfrogertaylor​‘s Christmas Event. Enjoy everyone!!

Pairing: Ben Hardy x fem!Reader

Words: 2412

Warnings: Families, kissing, swearing, Christmas, grandparents, and parents being grandparents and parents. Sex, engagement, and kids are mentioned, nudity but nothing graphic. Plus a LOT was inspired by the Hallmark movie Holiday Engagement

Genre: Fluff and a bit of Angst!

“If I have to see you single again on another Christmas, I’ll jump off a bridge!” your grandmother whined over the phone. You sighed deeply, out of reach of the phone on the speaker in your hand.

“She’s joking, of course!” your mom interjected.

Yeah right, with another year and another ring less finger in the midst of an Instagram feed full of clean, French manicures with the largest diamonds sparkling on the left hand with two billion likes, you had had it. Especially since a lot of those clean, French manicured hands of yours with large sparkling diamonds on the left hand with two billion likes were in your family.

So now every head that was female and greying turned to you in anticipation. And every holiday, from their wrinkled, pink lips and their hot breath full of peppermint came the dreaded question with the monotone, dreaded answer.

Then came Ben.

Charming. Funny. Smart. Single. Ben.

He sat in your car on the passenger side and his eyes widened at your grandmother’s comment.

“Oh, I just want you to be happy, dear! And know you’re taken care of!”

Your grandmother forgot to recall the new world of college degrees, Netflix nights with friends, job choices, and vibrators to think a man could possibly be in the picture for women in the 21st century.

This was where Ben came in. Especially his job for the next week.

Ben clicked his tongue a little and bit his lips in a way that almost made you miss the turn.

He reached over the clicked the red button on the phone to end the call.

“Well, she’s a little mad.”

“She’s mad for babies, that’s what. I think she just wants babies to play with without changing diapers or, you know, responsibility” you said.

“Maybe I should’ve brought a dog, then” Ben quipped.

It was ideal. But too ideal. Ben and you were friends. Just. Friends. No matter what your stomach felt. No matter what fantasies you had at night. Just friends.

But it was nice to live that fantasy for a week. Merry frickin’ Christmas.

You pulled the car over to the park and walked into the big house. Already a lot of your family had entered in and were having drinks in red cups as a sports game blared on the tv as opposed to nice Christmas music tinkling away.

“Oh, honey, welcome!” your mother greeted, walking in with a big hug, the red arms of her red sweater outstretched.

“And is this your boyfriend?”

“Oh, yes, I’m Ben, Ben Jones.” He greeted. He had a polite smile and had engaged in his role. Today’s audition he had to read the role of boyfriend to shut up the Karens for a week. Only no real script except what was discussed, and pure improv. Good thing he was paid to leap off of trucks and shoot fake guns for Micheal Bay.

How hard could it be? After all hard was his name. His stage name.

Your grandmother gawked at you.

“Oh my gosh! What a cutie! I haven’t seen a butt that perky since your grandfather in ’72!” “Grandma!” you gasp, but giggling anyway.

You hug your mom very tightly, so much you can smell her. Ben merely gives her a platonic handshake.

But Ben handles being the dutiful boyfriend very well. People go over and drill questions into him. He hesitates a little and then replies quietly.

“So Ben, what job do you have.”

“I’m an actor, film, and television.”

Though one cousin of yours, who is at least six foot five and the size of a buffalo storms over, almost to Ben’s face. If it were not for the reindeer antlers hanging from his head, you probably would have been nervous.

“I’ll tell you Jonesey, my cousin, Y/N, is the sweetest, smartest, best girl ever.”

“I know! I wouldn’t be datin’ ‘er if she wasn’t!” Ben replies. His hands shoot out in front of him.

You can feel yourself biting your cheek insides in order not to smile.

Your cousin practically grabs him by the shirt collar and lifts him almost.

“If you break her heart or hurt her, I swear to God, man, I’ll cut your nuts off!”

“I-I won’t!” Ben insists being lowered to the ground.

But right as Ben turns around and sees your brother and you feel your stomach turn a little. Are your family members ganging up on poor Ben?

But he just nods his head and says “I think you seem like a nice guy, Ben, so ditto. But Y/N is a tough cookie, I trust you with her. And I trust her” he adds, he picks up his mug in the shape of Frosty the Snowman and lifts it as a toast in your direction.

Pretending to be dating was almost too easy. Natural, even.

It seems like forever, but the guests eventually filter their way out. Your family sighs deeply Your stepfather throws himself on the couch, almost melting into it.

“Well somebody has to pick up the dogs tomorrow…”

You can see Ben’s face light up.

“Dogs?” Ben interrupts, widening into the smile of a seagull offered a crumb of bread.

Your mom is a little taken aback.

“Uhm, yes…we have two German Shepherd puppies. We had to put them in a daycare center for the party. They’re cute, but a little rowdy,” she warned, shuffling her feet.

You have to hold Ben back from jumping into the car and picking them up now.

“I’ll go, why, I’ll even drive!”

“Well, thank you, Ben!”

“Anything for my best…”

You kick him softly into the back of his leg, threating harder later if he doesn’t keep it together.

“Anything for my best girl! That is! The best girlfriend ever!”

The night gets darker and everyone is exhausted from the greeting party.

“You guys are fine sharing a bed, is that right? Well, the only bed available is Y/N’s old bed…” your stepfather begins.

You are both muttering and Ben’s turning very pink.

“Yes, Dad! We are thinking about moving in, soon, so sharing a bed isn’t a problem.”

But you both head to the room, lock the door and sigh.

“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” You confess.

“I think we’re doing great!” Ben adds optimistically, looking around at the trinkets and clothes left on hangers and chairs in your room. “And we don’t have to sleep together, I brought an air mattress.”

Fighting the urge to wince from the comment, you begin chewing your bottom lip.

“I need to go to bed, when do you shower? There’s only two up here.” You suggest, fanning out your top from the sweat you gathered.

“Mornin” Ben added, noticing an old book on your shelf and curiously thumbing through it.

As you take some towels and walk off, you bump into your mother getting a laundry basket.

“Do you think they liked the cake I made?” she asked.

“Oh, they definitely did!” you assure.

“I just think I may not have put enough icing, you know the family always goes for the heavy sweet stuff”

“Oh, mom, your baking is always great! Fyi, Ben got a really big slice today if that’s a sign!” you tease.

She taps your shoulder lovingly.

“And how’s your relationship with Ben going?”

You pull your hands under the towel and squeeze.

“It’s…good mom, really good.”

“It’s just that today I noticed you didn’t hug or hold hands or kiss that much” she murmured, relaxing her arms so that the empty laundry basket seemed to dangle from her grasp.

“We wanted to be respectful. You wouldn’t want to see your daughter making out with a guy all evening, would you!”

Your mother’s eyes sparkled as if hesitant to give you an unexpected answer.

“Well, of course not!”

“Besides,”  you say, turning to the bathroom and opening the door “he’s the kind of person who’d rather be private about touchy stuff, you know?”

Your mother hums in understanding and turns off to her room.

A warm homey shower and a nice bedtime routine got you all settled. Cleanliness of your body and mouth seemed to free you from the weariness of the social demands and your mental worries of what could go wrong.

But there was one more thing that did go a little wrong. When you walked back into your room Ben was lifting the blanket to get into the air mattress.

In his birthday suit.

You let out a scream and turned away immediately, not sure whether to be thankful or mortified or both. Ben saw you and let out a small yelp as well, he grabbed an old pillow and put it right over his junk. His whole head turned pink.

“I’m so sorry. You were taking your time and I thought I’d be under by the time you…y’know!!!” He seemed to curl down and you fought the powerful urge not to let your eyes wander to his eight-pack.

“Just put on some underwear for the love of God!”

You manage to get him in underwear and your mother's fluffy pink robe full of flowers. Almost scoffing, you flop on your bed and fall asleep almost at once.

What you don’t see is Ben turning his head to look at you. He can’t go to sleep quite yet. Thoughts are racing thought his head far too fast for him to catch one and examine it.

Being in your room, seeing all your old trinkets, clothes, books, and even toys everywhere. Bits of your personality shine out to him. And now a younger, but your deeper, almost private self is now all around him.

He adores it and his heart is bursting silently. With widening eyes, he keeps still on the bed and observes each tiny detail as if it is a clue to reveal a bit more about you.

And there you are, your face turned right to face his, eyes closed and deep asleep. He admires how there’s a bit of moonlight from the window falling on you and he can see you.

There you are so close. If he got up now, he could touch your hand perhaps and even stir. He could place his head against your heart to feel how after everything today that it’s beating just, so, so slow. Your lips are curved into a smile. Is it a dream, perhaps? His hand almost reaches out, wanting to trace every bit of your face but he stops himself.

He nestles down on the pillow and your face is the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes and drifts off into uneasy rest.

Nights like these got quieter as the days got repetitive. There was a lot of smiling and conversing with each other in the day and in the evening, you both would be quiet. The air dripping with words that wanted to be said and yet could not be said for fear of something dying.

One evening the clock had struck one in the morning and neither one of you had gotten any sleep other than tossing and turning.

“Let’s just watch Christmas movies together!” Ben suggests childishly, and you nod. You two will sneak downstairs and watch The Grinch and Netflix together. One evening, Ben suggested The Snowman.

“It’s on Youtube, have you ever seen it?”

“No!”

“Let’s watch it!” Ben says, whipping out his phone and suggesting you scoot over.

It’s hard not to let your head fall on his shoulder and you force yourself to keep the slightest distance.

At the very end of the short little feature, the magical Snowman had melted, leaving the little boy alone in the snow as the credits rolled over a soft song with an orchestra and boy soprano.

Ben was bawling quietly.

“Oh my god…every bloody time…”

But as you reach over, you wipe off the tears and he looks right at you. You are both quiet.

“Go back to sleep, I need to have a smoke before I sleep.”

It had been a long smoke too.

On Christmas Eve, it was another small gathering. Mainly Grandma. She was eyeing you two as if she was watching the last five minutes of a Game of Thrones episode for any sudden, shocking twist or turn.

Like a kiss. Or a hug.

Ben could tell something was up and pulled up to her. “Well hello there, I’m Ben Jones, I don’t think I’ve talked with you much yet, but I’m dating your granddaughter.”

She nodded and gigged. Her eyes shone and brought energy not felt for about fifty years

“I know, we haven’t talked!” she replied, raising her shoulders a little in shyness.

“And I can’t leave a lovely lady all by herself!” Ben added with a wink.

You smiled. Ever the charmer where it counted.

You went over to the kitchen and heated up two mugs of hot milk and picked tow packets of hot chocolate.

But as you walked over to hand them to Ben right by the doorway there was a sudden burst of “OOOOOOOHHHHH!” from your brother.

There was mistletoe hanging over the two of you.

Mistletoe that wasn’t there yesterday.

You and Ben stared at each other, blinking. Then you looked at your grandmother, eyes wide and nodding.

You gave him a short peck. His lips were cold and reeked of onions from the pizza you ate, but it was soft and plump.

Ben looked back at you, dazed. You only half heard the cheering from everyone and the toasts.

You both looked at each other, the party went on, but it was as if you two were the only ones in the world.

“Y/N…” he starts….”I think I need some air…” he confesses.

“Me too…” you say, following after.

You both rush, the air is cool and soft, not freezing like the typical Christmas Eve and with a disappointingly green front yard in front of you and a semi-clear sky.

Before you can say anything, Ben looks up at you shyly.

“Can I kiss you properly? And date you proper? Not for fake…”

You take your hands on each side of his face, his green eyes grow to the size of your neighbors' bushes.

“Uhm…it that a yes? It was a pretty bad kiss back…”

“Shut up” you insist before locking your lips onto yours for a much bigger improvement.

[tessatechaitea]

Justice League Annual #1 (1987)

Martian Manhunter has five thousand different super powers compared with the one super power of the rest of the team (Black Canary's sonic scream. The other "super powers" are just technological accessory based).

If this comic book isn't about Martian Manhunter's addiction to Oreo cookies then what am I even doing with my life? The only reason I love Martian Manhunter is that he loves Oreo cookies and I view him as the father I never had. Whenever I had a problem growing up, I would think, "What advice would Martian Manhunter give me?" And that's why I was so fat in Junior High School because the answer was always "Eat more Oreos." I know Martian Manhunter's eventual addiction is to "Choco's" but fuck Choco's. Fuck them like every other off-brand Oreo cookie. They fucking suck. Speaking of things that suck, this dick isn't going to suck itself. Now picture me pointing at the comic book because I need to read it. That's how I begin reading all of my comic books. And I say it loudly so the neighbors will think, "Oh boy! That guy next door isn't a nerd at all! Total sex maniac!" The "Hunting the Manhunter" blurb on this cover reminds me that Millennium is coming up and I think I hated that? No, no. I'm sure I loved it! There are two things I couldn't get enough of in my teen years and comic books was the second one of them. Kord Industries has bought some property in the middle of Ultra-Nowhere, South America, and some of its employees have gone off to scout the location.

Wasn't that the episode with the shape-changing hottie who loves sucking the salt out of men? You know what I'm talking about. Also she was probably a male monster posing as a female monster. Proof of that theory is that every single episode of the first season of the original Star Trek could also have been the name of a gay bar.

Inside the abandoned research facility, the Kord employees encounter pretty much the same thing Kirk, Spock, and the other one encountered:

Vampire John Travolta! It's possible I'm misremembering the Star Trek episode.

While on monitor duty, Guy Gardner discovers that large groups of people on four different continents seem to be under the control of a single will and Batman asks Martian Manhunter, "Do you think this is League business?" What the fuck else would be, Bat-Turd?! A new Internet fad like planking or the Harlem Shuffle? I mean, it totally could be that except that the Internet doesn't really exist during this story. I mean if you want to be a pedant about it, I suppose the teenage Internet across college campuses. But nobody likes a pedant so just shut the fuck up and live in my reality while you're reading my stupid comic book review. Just take the fucking Red Pill and relax! Except don't do that because the idea of The Matrix Red Pill has been co-opted by the worst of humanity who think they're somehow the most logical and philosophical people on the planet when they're really just awful monsters rationalizing all of their mean desires.

How did people come away from reading this comic book hating Guy Gardner and not also despising Batman?

The Justice League splits up into teams of two to cover the mass hypnosis issues in Paris, Tokyo, Sydney, and Los Angeles. I'm not sure Batman knows how to balance teams because he sends Doctor Fate and Martian Manhunter together while leaving Mister Miracle with Blue Beetle. Here are my teams: Guy Gardner with Blue Beetle because Blue Beetle is effectively worthless and Guy Gardner has the most powerful weapon in the universe. Batman would go with Black Canary because her sonic scream is sort of like a bat's echo location. Martian Manhunter would go with Scott Free because they're both aliens. And Booster Gold would team up with Doctor Fate because their outfits match. Blue Beetle and Mister Miracle head to L.A. with some, um, problematic dialogue? I think?

This is an "anal sex/everybody in Hollywood is gay" joke, right?

With newer comic books, a scan of 620 pixels (basically the width of the main column of the blog (although I think the width changed when I added the Goodreads app. I should probably fix it so the 620 pixel pictures stop bleeding off into the right-hand frame (if you're reading this on Tumblr, just ignore it. Just ignore everything since Tumblr fucked up their code and now I can't even center pictures or get the captions to sit snugly right up underneath the scans))) was usually enough to read the dialogue clearly. But with these old comics on newsprint, they're fuzzier and the font seems much smaller. Sorry about that but I won't betray my artistic integrity by scanning less than the full panel! At least not in this case is my defense against the pedants who can easily find many examples of me doing exactly that. First Black Canary is treated like shit by Batman and now she teams up with Booster Gold who can't stop hitting on her until she reminds him she's a competent limb-breaker. This must be the kind of comics Comicsgaters wish we could return to! "Remember when women were treated as sexual objects and not one member of the Justice League was Black and constantly said, 'Booyah!'? What great times!" Black Canary and Booster Gold become John Travolta Vampire slaves almost immediately because Batman chose the improper team pairings. It's bad enough that Batman would fail at making proper pairings but it's extra bad when Batman is being written by a writer and the writer made that choice. I mean, how do you pass up the opportunity to team Booster Gold with Doctor Fate?! They would look so fucking good together! Batman and Guy Gardner (you know how you can tell Hal Jordan is the real Green Lantern? Because people will say "Green Lantern" when discussing him instead of "Hal Jordan") wind up in Tokyo where Doctor Light is all, "Hello, boys! I'm a vampire now!" Then she blinds the fuck out of them because Batman forgot to put on his Bat-sunglasses.

Batman steals this move from Doctor Light in the next regular issue.

Doctor Light kisses Batman and he's all, "Yeah, yeah. Okay. Okay. I get it. Being a vampire is pretty awesome. No wonder writers write vampire versions of me every other year or so."

I don't think the editors briefed Willingham on what Beetle's Bug can and can't do.

Beetle lands at Kord West and is immediately swamped by John Travolta Vampire's thralls. So he does the thing he does in nearly every comic book except the one where Maxwell Lord shoots him in the head: he runs away. But he doesn't run fast enough and winds up possessed aboard the Bug with Mister Miracle. The story hints that Miracle gets possessed just after the scene changes but he's Scott Free, the world's greatest escape artist! I would guess he'd be the one to save everybody else but judging from the cover, it's Martian Manhunter who keeps from getting possessed. In Australia, Doctor Fate wades into a group of infected people because he's a gigantic arrogant prick. He's all, "I'm a frickin' Lord of Order, assholes! I know a spell that can get to the root of this problem!" And then the Vampire John Travolta is all, "I'll kill Kent Nelson if you don't leave his body." And Doctor Fate is all, "Well, J'onn, I've gotta go! Nice hanging out with you! Ta ta!" Which leaves Martian Manhunter as the only person left on Earth who isn't infected (or at least the only person left who is in this story). I bet that's pretty lonely. But Martian Manhunter is used to being lonely. I wonder if he's capable of making his right hand into a female martian so he can fuck it? Martian Manhunter has no idea what he's dealing with so he puts on Doctor Fate's helmet to gain all of the other powers that he didn't already have without it. But only for a few seconds because Superman would never be able to get an erection again if he found out Martian Manhunter had all of his powers and could also do magic. J'onn wears the helmet just long enough to learn what Doctor Fate learned about the contagion: it's a sentient cell! It's smart cancer! And I guess Vampire John Travolta was Patient Zero. Now J'onn just has to figure out how to fight Smart Cancer. I don't even know how he'll defeat it because I just looked up Smart Cancer in the Who's Who to read about its weaknesses and wouldn't you know it? There's no entry for Smart Cancer! Maybe it was in an update that I don't own. Like that version of Who's Who that was just loose pages to stick in a binder! I have that one too but it's possible I just didn't buy all of the expansion packs. Martian Manhunter heads to the source of the contagion to meet Smart Cancer head on. What he finds is a boss from Castlevania.

When you have thousands of people at your disposal, is the most effective way to use them shoving them together into one giant person?

The first thing Smart Cancer's Granfaloon does is try to smash J'onn with its people fist. In effect, it's smashing a dozen people head first into the ground so that dirt sprays up all over the place. So I guess a dozen or so people are now dead, right? It's not like Smart Cancer gave them invulnerability to massive head wounds.

I think this panel is the one where all the Justice League editors through their hands up in resignation and sighed, "I guess the Justice League is ridiculous now."

Martian Manhunter realizes, like me, how fucking stupid Smart Cancer is to put all of its people in one gigantic people-shaped basket. Since all the minds are linked, he realizes he can throw the Fate helmet on one of the people and Doctor Fate can possess Smart Cancer. It works but only for a limited amount of time. Doctor Fate can't hold that many people under his sway. But Doctor Fate does know who can control Smart Cancer: the martian! He can shapeshift his cells into some kind of prison or something. I don't know. It was explained in the most basic medical and scientific terms but they were still beyond my attention span. In the end, Martian Manhunter contained the Smart Cancer in him and that's where it lives now? Oh, and speaking of "the end," check out this clever and titillating final panel:

"Why's it gotta be the ass of the only woman on the team?" I say while pulling my pants down.

Justice League Annual #1 Rating: What?! I don't rate annuals! I mean, maybe sometimes I rate annuals. This one was okay. It was sort of interesting but I was disappointed that Vampire John Travolta wasn't the actual enemy. I hope Smart Cancer fights its way out of J'onn and makes another appearance later.

[celestialthewriter-blog]

Hi and welcome?

Hello peeps, I am Celestial (not my actual name, so please don't search it up) and I like writing in my free time (even though I do it at like 10 o'clock at night, but who cares). I am currently working on 'The Piano Melody' which is going to take a frickin long time to make. But if you have any suggestions or just want someone to talk to I AM- *slaps myself* I will most likely be available. I do have an Instagram if anybody wants to know, its called rose._.loves_to_draw. It only had drawings on there, yeah. What else? Oh, if you want to do a story together either message me through wattpad or email me at celestial.jones07@gmail.com. I think that's it, of course, if you have any questions then ask me in the conversations, I will try and answer to the best of my ability. Also, I love anime and manga so if you have any suggestions then please tell moi. With love,                     A random writer who calls her self Celestial and Rose. -Musicals I like: -Six the Musical -Dear Evan Hansen -Hamilton -Heathers -The Little Mermaid And other musicals I can't remember...

Anime I like: -Black Butler -My Hero Academia -Maid Sama -Ouran Highschool Host Club -Fruits Basket -Erased (The Anime for God Sakes) -The Promised Neverland -Demon Slayer -Fairy Tail -Violet Evergarden -Fate/Stay Night -Free! -Yuri!! On Ice And others I can't remember...

Of course, this is just something about me. I do have a wattpad account, find me on @Celestial_the_Writer. My wattpad account has bigger, maybe better, and definitely longer stories. I hope you enjoyed this. And comment/reply anything you want me to write.

[kyriolex]

Part 2 of Fruits Basket Question

What type of discourse are you worried about Fruits Basket getting? Which characters do you anticipate will be labeled abusers other than the obvious ones, ala Akito and Ren? (feel free to make this a spoiler post)

I don’t know which Fruits Basket characters will be labeled an abuser, because I’ve seen people on this site label Ron frickin’ Weasley as an abuser, so I don’t think any character is 100% safe.

Instead, it might be easier to look at some characters who could debatably fall into the abuser category. Obviously abuse is a personal subject, so two reasonable people could have very different but valid opinions about who could be an abuser. Furthermore, it’s rarely simple as putting people in “Abuser” and “Not-Abuser” categories. Some people are mildly abusive, while others are absolute freaking monsters.

Like the first answer, I’m putting everything under the line because there is no way to avoid spoilers. Also keep in mind that it’s been a while since I’ve read through the manga, so some details may be fuzzy.

Before I answer this question, I want to clarify what I mean by abuse. Abuse is prolonged and/or severe mistreatment within a close relationship at the hands of an individual in power.

Akito is an abuser because even though she is younger than some of the cast, she is still "God.” Yes, Akito is abused and probably mentally ill. Doesn’t matter. Akito’s behavior wasn’t isolated to a psychotic episode where she didn’t know what was going on around her. Her aggression was persistent, conscious, and tactically used to ensure the zodiac’s loyalty.

Makoto (the head of Yuki’s fanclub) is not an abuser. She is Tohru’s fellow student and holds relatively equal power to Tohru. Makoto is a bitch and a bully, but she doesn’t have enough authority to be an abuser. 

Likewise, Haru’s fits of rage are not abuse. He is hostile and violent to people, yes. But it’s shown that when Haru goes into his mode, he attacks everything in sight: friends, strangers, furniture, etc. His aggression isn’t targeted consistently toward any one person. If memory serves, he typically apologizes after his fits and admits he was wrong, rather than trying to blame any victims. Haru is a good example of how a mental health issue (probably intermittent explosive disorder if I had to diagnose him) can lead to violence but not necessarily abuse.

Okay! So who in Fruits Basket (besides the obvious) could possibly fit those criteria? I’m not going to give an exhaustive list, just two cases where the arguments will be most interesting. For my own sake, I’m going to try not to take a stance on any of these. I’m merely listing the debates that will likely occur.

Kyoko Honda: After her husband died, she went into a severe depression and possibly a dissociative episode. Her father-in-law came over a few times to feed Tohru, but otherwise 3-year-old Tohru was left to fend for herself. This episode of child neglect impacts Tohru’s personality for years to come. (Most organizations classify child neglect as a type of abuse, FYI).

So is Kyoko an abuser? This incident wasn’t necessarily Kyoko’s fault, as she was detached from reality at the time and forgot she even had a daughter. If she had fallen ill with a severe fever, the result would have been the same.

On the other hand, a toddler was still neglected for many days, maybe even weeks. The harm still occurred, even if Kyoko didn’t consciously intend it. And unlike Haru and his classmates, this harm occurred in a parent-child dynamic, which has different rules about what a person is responsible for.

Shigure Sohma: This man is going to be a dumpster fire by the time everyone is done with him. The first issue is how he manipulates Tohru. His whole reason for inviting Tohru into his house was to use her to break the curse. 

On one hand, giving a homeless girl a place to stay is a nice gesture. Plus, Shigure is in kind of a desperate situation and understandably wants to be free of the curse. On the other hand, Shigure knows full well that Tohru will become the target of Akito’s violent rage if his plan succeeds. It’s likely not a coincidence that he chose a homeless girl with nowhere else to live for his plan. He’s putting a vulnerable teen in an awful lot of danger without her knowledge.

The second issue is, of course, his relationship with Akito. Long story short, Shigure slept with Ren, Akito’s abuser, to get revenge on Akito sleeping with another man. And I might be misremembering, but I believe Shigure says at one point that he wanted to break the curse so he could have Akito all to himself (i.e. isolate her). Does this kind of manipulation count as abuse or self-defense? Can the victim of abuse also victimize their abuser? 

Others who may or may not be cast as abusers:

Kazuma Sohma: For exposing Kyo’s true identity to Tohru without his consent. (I’d classify that as more of a Bad Idea He Should Apologize For rather than systemic abuse.)

Kagura Sohma: For pushing her love on Kyo while using him to fuel her own self-esteem. (It depends on which parts of her character the anime emphasize.)

Kureno Sohma: For romantically pursuing a high-school girl. (I think Arisa is 18 by the time he meets her, but I’m not 100% sure he knew that.)

Wow, that was long. FYI, you are absolutely allowed to disagree with this. I am just trying to predict possible debates, not make any definitive guide on who is problematic.

[shirtlesssammy]

3x02: The Kids Are Alright

Then:

Dean’s going to hell, guys!

Now:

In Cicero, Indiana, a divorced suburban mom anxiously waits the return of her daughter. It’s the girl’s night to spend with her dad, but upon her return she pleads with her mom to never go back. It’s scary and there are monsters there. Meanwhile, the dad is busy working in his shop --making a wooden toy that’s about 5 years too late if it’s for his daughter that hates him. It’s late so he calls it a night, but as he walks away, the table saw spins to life.

He switches it off and walks away again --only for it to turn on again. As he goes to investigate again, something attacks him from behind, pushing him onto the blade. Blood gushes everywhere! And the camera pans to the little wooden horse, rocking slowly back and forth.

Meanwhile, Sam is 1000% unable to play it cool when talking to Bobby about Dean’s demon deal, flubbing about ordering pizza at a diner. Good save, Sammy! Dean’s caught a case and a serious desire to relive the bendiest weekend of his life. He’s in YOLO mode and wants to see Lisa Braeden again. Dean’s in high spirits as he drops Sam off at the motel, telling him, “Don’t wait up for me.”

Dean pulls into a new suburban neighborhood, and locates Lisa’s house. She’s a bit surprised to see him. It’s been almost 9 years since that weekend after all. “Dean Winchester. Wow.” Haha, so say we all. She’s a bit busy at the moment. She’s throwing a birthday party for her son, Ben, who’s turning 8. He also has close cropped spiky hair, loves hard rock, cars, and food. Dean looks on with consternation while Lisa greets her friend, the woman from the cold open. Dean mingles with the locals.

And some quality time with his mini-me.

Dean does some quick math in his head (I LOVE when Dean visibly counts to himself. It’s something so endearing and consistent about Dean over the years.)

Lisa is consoling her friend about her ex-husband’s untimely demise. Her friend confesses that she feels there’s something wrong with Katie, her daughter. In fact, she’s not sure it’s actually her daughter. She goes to collect Katie to leave the party.

Dean walks in and ever so casually asks Lisa if Ben is his. (Natasha: dies laughing) Lisa dismisses his concerns, but it’s clear Dean’s still a little nervous. But even under possible parental distress, Dean’s able to work the case and ask Lisa about the death of her friend’s ex. Lisa admits to a lot of bad things in the neighborhood.

Sam, meanwhile, gets a visit from Ruby. Cue dramatic zoom. Sam wants to know more about her knife that can kill demons (those innocent days! I don’t even think he knows she’s a demon here!) Ruby wants to talk about Sam’s ESP -- and his mom’s friends (what?? My mind is fuzzy about this.) As she’s leaving, she tells Sam there’s a case in this town.

Two seconds later, Dean calls and tells Sam there’s a case in this town --four other people have died in Lisa’s neighborhood.

Meanwhile, Lisa’s friend wakes from a nap (after falling asleep reading The Historian. Lol, I completely understand Friend of Lisa, but Show, a book about bloodsuckers is a little too on the nose.) Her daughter is watching her like a little creepoid.

The girl is creepy and clingy and has some seriously messed up skin when the mom sees her reflection in the mirror.

Sam investigates the other homes where people died.

I submit this photograph for Insurance purposes only:

As the woman points out where her husband fell and died, Sam notices blood on the windowsill, and a blank staring little girl looking out the window --and a sucker-like hickey on the back of the mom’s neck.

Friend of Lisa’s is rubbing her own neck when she’s making Katie her lunch. She tells her daughter to eat and then locks herself in the bathroom to inspect her own sucker hickey. Eww. There’s a pounding on the door. She wants in. She continues to rattle the door while Friend of Lisa’s grows increasingly worried. The rattling stops when the doorbell rings. She rushes downstairs to find Katie answering the door to the neighborhood sunshine representative, bearing a basket of goodies. The woman inquires how they’re doing, and then about if they’re planning on keeping the house. Cold, lady. Friend of Lisa’s slams the door in her face, only to find Katie right there demanding ice cream.

Out and about, Dean sees a sad Ben, sitting alone. He joins Ben on the bench and asks if there’s something wrong. Ben’s as chatty as his not-father when it comes to emotions. Some kid borrowed Ben’s game and now he won’t give it back. Ben refuses to let Dean meddle. Dean’s proud of the little guy for wanting to fight his own fights. (I hold back my commentary about toxic masculinity being passed down to the next generation. My, how far we’ve come, Dean Let-It-Go Winchester.)

Ben heads up to the group of bullies and calls out the kid who stole his game. Ben knees him in the balls and grabs his game while Dean grins from the sidelines. Lisa storms up and berates Ben for kicking another kid. Dean gets the Mom Look of Death ™.

Lisa (RIGHTLY SO) reminds Dean that they spent a single night together years ago and it is hella creepy for Dean to be hanging out with her son right now. Like, I KNOW RIGHT? (Team Lisa) Lisa and Ben head out, only for Ben to run back to Dean and give him a big thank you hug. It’s super adorable.

And then...the adorableness dies swiftly as creepy children in the playground turn in unison to stare at Dean.

And back with Friend of Lisa, her daughter is aggressively telling her that she loves her while mom, weeping, buckles her into the car. Mom adjusts the rearview and catches a glimpse of...well…

Drive, momma, drive! The little girl is still JONESING for ice cream so mom drives them to a nice refreshing...boat ramp. She puts the car in neutral, releases the parking brake, and the car and child slide slowly into the water. (I find this scene particularly horrifying because of its layer of real life parallels so GOOD JOB writers for making me feel awful.)

Mom gets home, emotionally ravaged, only to find a water soaked little girl sitting at her table. “Hi mummy,” the girl says. “Can I have that ice cream now?” Fuuuuuuuck.

Sam, meanwhile, is diligently doing research when Dean bursts into the hotel room. (Side note: there’s been so little Sam in this episode that I was actually surprised to see him again. In my defense, I’m tired. In my defense, I’m also distracted by creepy kids.) Sam’s function is clearly to dump a ton of lore on us. We learn that changelings aren’t just babies. They can be kids - and there’s one at every house that’s had a death. They climb in through the windows and steal the real children, then feed on the back of the mothers’ necks for a few weeks. (Query: it’s heavily implied that changelings only feed on women. Does this mean that the children of gay male couples are safe? Duly noted, man.)

Dean preps the weaponry. Just...fire. Lots of fire.

Sam thinks the kids might still be alive somewhere underground. Dean low key flips out about the idea of any of the kids getting snatched and heads straight to Lisa. When Lisa opens the door she looks harried, Dean looks dorky. Awww they’re so cute. (Man, I love Dean and Lisa almost as much as I love Dean and Cas. It doesn’t hurt that Lisa’s smile is like the frickin’ sun.)(Boris: Vigorously nods in agreement.) Dean hands Lisa a credit card and tells them to go on vacation together. Guys, it’s a TOTALLY NORMAL gift for a 9-years-later hookup to give. She asks Dean about the hinky name on the card but then Ben shows up. “Make him go away, Mommy,” says a decidedly chillier Ben. Lisa takes the hint (while Dean’s hunter hackles rise) and the door gets slammed between them.

Awwww shiiiiit, a monster’s got Ben!

Dean stalks around the house, looking for clues. (Again, in the hunting context we’re like okay COOL good job and in the real world context we’d be going SHIT LISA CALL 911 he’s outside of your house!!!) Dean finds the telltale blood on the sill. Ben’s done got snatched. Dean races to the car. It’s not blood on the sill, he tells Sam. It’s….

“Red dirt,” Sam concludes as we scene jump to one of the buildings under construction. (SIDE NOTE dudes I used to live near Sedona AZ the capitol of red dirt and when dried it did not look like blood. What I’m saying is, someone get some decontamination crews to this neighborhood. It’s a biohazard zone. No wonder property’s so cheap.)

They investigate the house. Dean finds the basement, hears a noise, and heads on down. He finds trapped kids (including Ben) and tells him that he’ll be free soon. Meanwhile, Sam (Sam is here too!) gets confronted by the nosy realtor with the muffin baskets. Downstairs, Dean discovers the caged realtor in the basement. Wherps. Sam’s smart, though, so instead of getting talked into buying a house he whips out his trusty business card.

Fake Ben gets all up in Lisa’s grill, asking for food, so Lisa offers him pizza. Fake Ben agrees and Lisa notices his reflection in her shiny coffee table. Yeesh.

Lisa may be having a shit time, but Dean’s enjoying his father(????) & son bonding moment as they work together to free and comfort the other children. Dean busts a hole through the window and gets everyone out. Just then momma changeling appears. Dun dun DUN.

Lisa confronts fake Ben. “I love you, mommy,” he says in response. Lisa grabs her keys and gets the fuck out of town, but there are kids in her lawn ready to go all Children of the Corn on her. She heads back inside.

Momma changeling gives a good fight, beating the shit out of Dean and Sam. All the while, Ben calmly gets all the kids out. Sam blasts the changeling mom with fire and the fire cascades to all the changeling children. They erupt into flame and ash, including the ones tormenting Lisa and Friend of Lisa.

Lisa races out as the sun rises and greets Ben joyfully. They head inside, Lisa sets Ben up with food and headphones, and then Dean fills her in on his line of work.

Dean asks one more time about Ben’s parentage and Lisa sets him straight (OR DOES SHE). She took a blood test...it was a dude she met in a bar. “I swear you look disappointed,” she says as Dean looks low key devastated.

“Some stuff happened to me recently, and, uh. Anyway, a guy in my situation. You start to think, you know. I'm gonna be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a car?”

Dean. You’re breaking my fucking heart. Lisa asks him to stay for a while and he gets the fuck out instead because he doesn’t think he deserves good things. (weeps some more)

For Science:

Basically if they’re both in the same frame I am DEAD. They’re tooooo pretttyyyyy.

I uncurl from my ball of sorrow to recap the Sam is Here Too ™ portion of the episode. He’s checking up on his mom’s friends. They’re all dead. He meets Ruby and she tells him they’re dead because of the Yellow Eyed Demon. Sam demands to know who she really is and she goes all black eyed on him. Ruby insists that she’s on his side. “It’s all about you,” she tells him. She’s just trying to figure out how all the puzzle pieces fit together. And if he plays ball, she’ll help him save Dean.

These Quotes Want Some Ice Cream:

O-kay, Weirdy Mcweirderton

Gumby girl. Does that make me Pokey?

I’m interested in you because you’re tall.

Something’s wrong with the kids in this town.

We'll just bust in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That'll play great with the neighbors.

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

[v-mundi]

Options and Evolution cards part 1. Here’s where we get to edits done in the name of fidelity. Either in the sense of accuracy by using the actual materials in Digimon intended to be referenced by the cards, or by bumping up the fidelity on what I wanted it to try to depict.

Metal Armor was a 2D frickin image again. So now I’ve gouged the metalmamemon model out of the armor part (do not ask) and brought just the shell for your viewing pleasure.

Giga Hand used to be called Giga Cannon. Funny story, the “Giga Hand” card in the PS1 Digimon World: Digital Card Battle (Arena) game is the same card as the previous “Giga Cannon” I had. But because I only knew dub names and attacks, I didn’t know it was actually Mugedramon’s Mugen Cannon. Also I used totally unrelated art, like wow. So when I went to fix the art, I mistakenly gouged the vertices of a Mugendramon off its cannon and had it all done up nice when I remembered I should rename it. Then I remembered why I kept “Giga” in the first place! So I quickly ripped the hands off a Gigadramon. It’s less gorey than it sounds.

Short Lance is finally an actual Piximon’s Fairy Tale instead of a random trident.

Scummon’s Curse is finally a...uh...well a real looking poop. I used the poop model from a Digimon game...but it gets better. I edited the texture and did a ton of 3D rendering effects to make it more realistic. This one poop took me an entire solid day of effort plus another next morning to make look...well not good. Just look. I think i hand-drew the previous one? I don’t remember but it didn’t fit the aesthetic. As poop often does not.

Chainsaw can EAT A BASKET OF DICKS. Nothing on this list was as hard or time-intensive as chainsaw. Not even the cursed poop card. It took DAYS. I had to source a giromon model which is basically impossible. None of them are rigged. I had to clip every vertex away from its hands manually and I have never done that before. It was the week I finally learned Blender. Eventually, I exported it rendered with a ton of matcaps so I could get the perfect look. It took even more hours in post. That card was really tough. It has gone through the most art changes of any, as I scrambled to find accurate 3D chainsaws for some time.

So Beam Gun is now the actual vademon gun. That’s about all there is to that. It was some atrocious, irrelevant garbage before. I color graded it to look cooler.

Okay is Heap of Junk something I modeled? No. But is it something I at least rendered myself? Also no. BUT is it a free asset? I don’t know. Okay but listen, the fridge full of eggs thing...that had to go man. Eggfridge is out, actual goddamn heap of junk is in. Aesthetic chosen based on the PS1 Digimon World style.

Training manual is a fun one. I figured out Photoshop can convert 2D stuff into 3D extrusions and went to town. So that’s actually some bs vector art of a clipboard I colored green, wrote a bunch of Japanese and english translations of the Hyper Coliseum “Training Manual” card effect texts on, and then extruded to 3D.

Mystery Egg now looks like the damn mystery egg in the PS1 game instead of uh...some weird volcano dragon egg fuzz thing. Look, in all fairness to me 2015 was a weird year. I made almost the entire base release of 200 cards in a few months while high as a kite, and did all the cards in numerical order. So Options were last. And I was getting tired and lazy about it. And I had zero intentions of this ever being seen by strangers. It was made for playing with at home in all intent. That last fact is also why you see such bad art to start with, t-poses, and downright uncredited renders from other people! Absolutely classy. But hey, without that monumental laziness and give-no-damns attitude, this game actually would not exist. Base Release would’ve never been finished until I learned all the immense skills required to make all this art that I do now, which I learned on the way through the last 5 years out of necessity...so basically it would’ve never happened if I thought other people would see it or I needed it to look good and not take random art.

Miracle Ruby is a heart shape still but actually good instead of a terrible photoshop garbage fire mess. I don’t know why the heart does it for me. I guess cause it’s a 1-UP? I didn’t even try to be faithful to the original card. And I could. I could absolutely load up blender right now and have a cut-gem looking ruby in about an hour. But I don’t want to. The heart makes me feel good.

[benjaminsblog]

11.9.17

Even worse today. And I thought that would be a tough ask.

I came in at 2, and as I hadn’t been called upon to come in earlier, I thought, in typical Clarkson fashion - ‘how bad can it be?’ I should have listened to my inner Hammond (Don’t say that!), as Nasir said that not only had today been a horror show, but yesterday hadn’t been much better after I left. I was a bit surprised by this, as I’d made sure I left him in better shape than the previous week.

However, although he’d had to call in reinforcements again, everything was in relative control - I was basically only left with four orders to pick, all for 6 o’clock. I had 120 items to pick in 3 hours, no sweat. Except GIF...ah, GIF. Our system, which I refer to as GFI (because it can Go F-), crashed shortly after I started, which meant I couldn’t use it to pick items. I tried everything I could to find a workaround, but it just wasn’t happening. I called the contact centre, who logged it as ‘high priority’, as it was pretty frickin’ urgent, but 1h30 and three phone calls later, and it hadn’t even been looked at by anyone. It didn’t help that each time I called I got a different person, but when the last one said that it would probably be tomorrow I would get a response, I choked incredulously and put the phone down.

I tried reverting to good ol’ PAM, but that was out of commission too (perhaps it had been taken out of the loop, so to speak), so the only option I had left was to print off the orders and pick them manually, just like how I used to pre-pick back in the day. Other than being a nostalgia trip, this technique has little going for it; I have no computer telling me exactly where each item is, so I only have my knowledge of the store to go on. Granted, my knowledge is good, and I can find most things easily enough, but it is inevitably much slower, and when I do come across the odd item I don’t recognise, it’s not so easy to sort out.

I had to call all four customers to ask them to come in (a lot) later; I was a little concerned that I only got through to one, so ploughed on as quickly as I could. Shelley came and helped pick one too, and we just about got things picked in time. It seemed that every customer arrived just as we were putting the last thing in their basket, and although the system is most likely a complete shit-show, we did as well as we could to rescue a very sticky situation. The sheer fact that everyone got their shopping was a big W if you ask me.

And if that wasn’t enough work, I had about three day’s worth of backlog to work through - parcel returns, unclaimed shopping, etc. were all calling out to be dealt with, and although even Shelley gave me a free pass and said ‘just go at 9′, I couldn’t in all honesty leave that much crap for Claire in the morning. Peter even came in for an hour or so, despite my protests, to help out. He certainly didn’t have to, but I think he has that same trait (some might say flaw) that prevents him from - for want of a better phrase - staying out of it! I said he didn’t need to, but in the end I’m glad he did, because even though Shelley made him go home soon after, I was not out the door until 10:25, having still not finished everything.

Pete asked me whether it was lack of staff or lack of training that led to the carnage that has befallen C&C in the past few weeks, and I said both; poor old Nasir has been thrown in a deep end infested with sharks and no arm bands, and could not be blamed for giving us the proverbial middle finger and never working in our department again. But, to wear out the same record once again, we are dangerously understaffed - with our team haemorrhaging members like a Game of Thrones episode - and every time I think about what Christmas is going to be like, I want to curl up into a ball and cry myself to sleep.

And to top it all off, it didn’t even rain, so my supposed smart thinking in bringing my umbrella went unrewarded. On days like this, even the British weather can’t do its part.

[legendaryquill]

My long emotional review of GOTG Vol.2

ok here we go

it’s VERY long

and spoilers af

I saw it opening night,and I ended up watching it alone because both people bailed on me last minuet. I made sure no one sat beside me so when I cried I wouldn’t be bothered or embarrassed. [I’d accidentally read a spoiler about Yondu a few days before and it hurt I knew tears would happen.]

The movie began and I COULD NOT STOP SMILING. I was so happy, my face literally hurt. Which was odd, what the hell was I smiling for? IDK I was just so happy. I couldn’t NOT smile. We got to see Meredith before she was sick and dying nd OOOH BOY I WAS SO HAPPY. I love meredith so much, y’all dont even know. she’s my river lilly. We got to see Peter’s mom and dad interact and be in love. Despite what Ego said, I feel like he really did have feelings for Meredith. There was strong emotions when he talked about her later in the film. James Gunn totally forced that accent in her though, like ooh no baby what is you doin??? I live in the south and have been here all my life and I’ve literally never heard anyone with an accent that strong. I have 2 friends from Missouri and have literally never heard them or their friends or relatives talk like that.

GROOT DANCING TO MR. BLUE SKY WHILE THE GUARDIANS FOUGHT IN THE BACKGROUND. It was so good, so pure, Baby Groot is Good and we must protect him. Peter being a Dad, hhhhmmmmMMM YES. MOM GAMORA SAYING HI TO HER LITTLE TREE SON HMMMM YES. unofficial mom and dad lbr

Peter was kind of flirting with Aesha, and then he look a look at gamora and was like ooh shit sorry babe ad then HE APOLOGIZED TO HER AND they were just, a married couple tbh

And then the ravagers, who appear to never have seen snow before, are having a good time on some Robot Hooker planet with anime weeabo music blaring in the background and it’s all around a good time until Yondu confront’s Stakar and it’s just tension,,,,,,

also When The Guardians were about to be obliterated and they were suddenly saved by the tiny man, I was hoping it was Yondad to the rescue, but it turned out to be Ego. Which was alright. They were sitting around the fire and Ego was like “I gotta take a wiz” and I was like hhhhm yup he’s your dad peter theres no doubt there.. And then Gamora was like lets take a walk and i was like hhHHHMM YES TAKE A WALK KIDS and kiss. And I was all happy and smiling and then Gamora starts telling the David Hasselhoff story and my heart just broke because FUCK, i’ve done that before.

Gamora Telling Groot That It Will Be Okay And She And Dad Peter Will Only Be Gone For A Few Days

When they went to Ego’s planet, everything was so bright and pretty and colorful, my artistic side was already picking color pallets.

And then peter learned about his background and i was fUCKed Up. It was so good.

Meanwhile Rocket is back with the Milano and he’s just Having A Good Time kicking those ravager’s asses while country music plays in the background. Now, I dont even like country, But i was getting Turnt The Fuck Up in my seat. And then poor Groot is crying while nebula pressures him in to setting her free and tHIS BITCH shoot’s yondu’s fin right off his fuckin head WHAT THE FUCK

Groot’s panty raid and Kraglin sadly apologizing for fucking everything up was good too

Back on Ego’s planet, Peter is learning that he is one with light, all I cared about was the Meredith sculpture of her holding the fruit basket or whatever it was because honestly same. I want a giant Meredith statue in my sculpture garden.

AND THE EGO AND PETER STARTED PLAYING CATCH

honestly my favorite Part of the movie. My weak sensitive ass started tearing up when they were passing the ball  and then Ego took a few steps away from Peter to create good throwing distance and Peter realized that they were gonna legitimately play catch and he smiled and I started bawling my fucking eyes out and i pretty much cried through the rest of the film. THE ENTIRE THEATER WENT “AWWW”

Mantis learns that she is A Pet and Ugly [she’s so cute, kill me]

And later, when Gamora and Peter are having their Married Couple Argument, and she storms off, Peter is just laying on the sofa in his room all up in his feelings and Ego waltzes in and gives him relationship advice and snooping in Peter’s business

He begins teaching Peter about expansion and he boops peter’s head and Peter literally gets starry-eyed and  IT’S FRICKIN ADORABLE. Peter with galaxies in is eyes. He’s in awe and smiley and just so fuckin cute it makes my heart flutter. And then he starts dwelling on living forever and how he’s gonna miss his friends and he’s just Sad From All Angles. It hurt me. And the way he says “my mother” with a half-mumble and cute little voice slays me.

And then Ego was like “That’s why it hurt me to put that tumor in her brain.”

THE ENTIRE THEATER LITERALLY WENT “OH” AS IN OH SHIT. LIKE, SHIT JUST GOT REAL.

I shed some more tears when Ego crushed the walkman.

And of course Yondu and Kraglin come to his rescue. Also Yondu and Rocket is a great friendship pleeeease leave me alone to to die. It’s all just so good and the battle’s going great, and it’s all action, and giant Pac Mans, and Mary Poppins, Y’all!!!!

And at the end Peter is just ready to accept his fate and Die. and then Yondad swoops in and saves him and they start flying outta there and Yondu puts the space suit on Peter.

“He was your father but he wasn’t Your daddy”, “my boy”, and Peter clinging to Youndu and crying [cue my ugly ass sobbing in my seat with my sleeve in my mouth to keep quiet.]

And the funeral...Oh My God. Peter admitting that he had a pretty cool dad while a tear streamed down his face [My Total Cry Count: probably like 5 at this point.] Then they sent Yondu off and it was just COLORFUL and eye pleasing fffuck

And then the ravagers appear and They have a ravager funeral and It’s so bright and colorful and lovely, Kraglin cheers, Everyone pays their respects, I cry again.

Groot goes from Peter, to Mommy Gamora, to Drax, and he is a small sleepy baby and rests his head down on Drax to sleep. Drax realizes Mantis Is beautiful, Gamora and Peter finally get together [they didnt kiss, dammit], I cry harder. They stand back and watch the light show, and it’s a beautiful ending.

I cried and waited for like a-whole-nother hour to compose myself before calling my mom to come pick me up

[True stories: I’ve told people on two different occasions that my dad is an actor or a drummer in a band. Because I had no real reason for explaining why he was never around. I said I never really grew up with a dad and they asked why not or if I knew where he was and I didnt want to tell them that I knew exactly where he was.]

[no-thank--u]

Introductions!

Thought my first post should be introducing myself. I’m not gonna use my name because I hate it, so I’m gonna go as Kitty :). So, hi, I guess.

Basically, I made this tumblr so I can have a place to rant and be myself without people I know irl judging me too much. Quite honestly, I don’t really care too much if no one ever sees this blog, I just really need a place to express myself properly bc it’s driving me insane not being able to!!

Anyway, down to business ✨

I’m 17, and studying photography, biology, and psychology at college, but that isn’t really exciting. I do a bunch of photography in my free time, including some horror inspired stuff (I love anything horror!) :D

I’m basically a giant frickin memelord. But I have no friends to appreciate my witty jokes T__T. Although my jokes would probably die even if I did have friends, because I’m pretty shy, and I also stutter, although even though it’s getting worse at the minute, it still is manageable so for that I’m thankful!

On to interests!

I’m really into music, I’m into stuff from all sorts of different genres, but I particularly love metal and visual kei, my favourite bands being DADAROMA, Rammstein, and Avatar. I also have a soft spot for other bands such as Colour of Bone and Sigur rós at the moment:)

I’m also a giant anime and manga nerd. I’ve been loving Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, as well as the Fruits Basket manga recently ☺️.

Oooo and pets! I love animals!! And I have two snakes and a bunch of other stuff :D

I think that’s everything for now:) I’m also always active so hmu if you wanna chat, I have like no friends 😭