#i know making fun of the digressions is good fun

[gallusrostromegalus]

As someone a bit too young to have seen Bleach the first time around, AEIWAM is still consuming a crucial portion of my brain cells. So imagine my surprise when I looked up Tousen, the reason you started this behemoth of an alternate universe, on TV tropes.

Among other shocking revelations...

WHAT DO YOU MEAN, HE JOINED AIZEN OF HIS OWN FREE WILL IN CANON???? What do you MEAN, TITE KUBO, that the reason your Tousen wants to destroy the Shinigami is that his crush died of DOMESTIC VIOLENCE???

Who is this man and what has he done with my eternally suffering Tousen?

You understand why I had to take custody of this poor bastard.

I can respect what Kubo was going for- Aizen was right in the fact that Soul Society does suck, and the extended canon is that Tousen's crush was killed by her husband, everyone knew it, and nobody would prosecute the husband because he was a Noble. Canon Tousen is, more or less, suffering from the same kind of rage-based brainrot that is unfortunately so common these days- the idea that because a system is imperfect, or ever corrupt, that it's a good idea to tear the whole thing down/restart the universe (the real Path Of Least Harm is of course, the much more complicated and frustrating work of Dis-and-re-mantling the system piece-by-piece without leaving vulnerable people to fend for themselves, but that isn't as emotionally satisfying or fun to draw as senseless destruction, but I digress).

but his arc is only barely on the page at all, mostly after his death and contains one of the blandest and most obnoxious tropes- fridging- and the whole thing falls flat. It also fails to explore the FASCINATING angle of disability and tbh, racism in soul society- two VERY fucked up things that would very much justify his rage. But it's shonen and the series was deep in production hell at that point, and tousen was far from the only victim. I still don't know what the fuck Gin's deal was.

ANYWAY,

Notable changes between Canon!Tousen and AEIWAM!Tousen and some art under the cut:

Kakiyo is Kaname's adopted sister, and despite looking nothing alike, since they re-incarnated in soul society at the same time, they regard themselves as twins.

Kakiyo does kind of a lot in the plot before her demise- she's responsible for introducing Kaname and Komamura, teaches Zaraki and Yachiru how to read, and unintentionally helps Aizen by recommending him to be promoted to third seat in the 5th division, because she and Kiganjo were thinking about starting a family soon, and Aizen would make a good stand-in for her while she was on maternity leave.

She also gets to do a bunch of stuff after she dies too!

The characters in Tousen's name approximately mean "Necessary Scholar" and make an allusion to a legendary scholar from China who came to Japan to find the elixir of immortality for the emperor. He returns with an elixir that stops the emperor from aging, and the emperor kills him so he can't make anyone else immortal (the emperor doesn't age, but he's still vulnerable to stabbing, and gets stabbed). I thought that was an extremely fun literary allusion so I'm leaning into it- before he becomes a Shinigami, AEIWAM!Tousen took over the library run by his ans Kakiyo's adopted godparents, and ran a children's literacy program. he has a special interest in information sciences and educational methodology. even among nerds, he's a mega-nerd.

Kakiyo meets and marries Gosuke Kiganjo, who goes back to West 51 to meet his beloved's brother and the weird giant monk that runs the library with him. Kaname is immensely fond of Kiganjo, and has no qualms being the best man at their wedding. He and Gosuke are good friends for the first few years of the marriage, until Aizen gets his claws into Gosuke and slowly drives him insane.

In AEIWAM, Tousen is cursed into going along with the plan by Aizen. Aizen was just going to make Kiganjo kill him, but Gin is getting impatient with Aizen's hogyoku progress, and persuades Aizen into cursing Kaname into compliance instead with a Forbidden Bakudō: Kyuunodo — Ningyō Kugi Saiyaku (人形釘誓約, Puppet Nail Covenant)

I do keep the canon!Tousen's reputation for being pedantic, unecessarily critical and generally kind of boring. The reason for AEIWAM!Tousen's reputation is different: He is kind of a pain in the ass, because he is in Horrific Pain and Deeply Traumatized and that makes people irritable to say the least, and he deliberately cultivates a reputation for being Boring to keep people far, far away from him- and hopefully, far from Aizen as well.

An underrated bit of Canon!Tousen is that Suzumushi is not his zanpakuto. Suzumushi was Kakiyo's zanpakuto, and we see him take the sword from her coffin in the manga. Which is insane because it means HE ACHIEVED BANKAI WITH A ZANPAKUTO THAT WASN'T EVEN HIS. Dude is SEVERELY underrated as a swordsman. In AEIWAM, Suzumushi is still Kakiyo's zanpakuto, and only BARELY clings to life on the last reserves of the Spiritual power Kakiyo put into her before Kaname finds her. Suzumushi persuades him to take her up, enter the academy and bring Kakiyo's killer to justice (Suzumushi has fallen to Aizen's illusion and doesn't know who the killer is). She kind of glosses over how they bond, but she more or less crawls into his soul and supresses Kaname's native Yume-kon that would have been his own Zanpakuto spirit if it had been allowed to awaken. She did make an entirely new Shikai and Bankai for him- the chime that makes people lose conciousness is entirely new, the AOE of Just A Shitload Of Swords was Suzumushi's original Shikai. The Bankai of a space where anyone not touching the sword experiences no sensory input? Suzumushi made it first and foremost as a refuge for Kaname when the pain of the curse became to unbearable.

The biggest difference, of course, is that Kaname lives through the Aizen Arc and gets a Happy Ending: Once he wakes up after the battle, he is free, and chooses to marry the wolfman he's been in love with for centuries. Here's some art of them, finally home:

[mycurrentobsessionis]

No, but the sewer digression is important! It's thematic!

It makes so much sense to juxtaposition the revolution with the sewer digression. Because a good sewage system is vital for public health. Before sewers, drinking water wasunsafe and cholera wiped out tons of people each year. It was just a fact of life (much like it is here in Appalachia) -- you get sick, you die. It's inevitable.

But sewers carry your wastewater safely away. They prevent public outbreaks of cholera and yellow fever and other waterborne illnesses. The suffering and death associated with these diseases doesn't have to be inevitable. We, as a society, have and can do something about it.

That brings us back to the Les Amis, the literary representations of real revolutionaries that Hugo personally witnessed. They were fighting for a more equal world -- for the poor, the sick, unwed mothers, sex workers, orphaned children, and former prisoners -- all the kinds of people that Hugo introduces us to. The Les Amis were heavily outnumbered, and their deaths were inevitable. How could they fight against a system rigged against them? They go to their deaths anyway, because all of those ideals, all of those people, are worth dying for.

The Les Amis die trying to bring about change to prevent unnecessary suffering and death, because death from starvation and disease doesn't have to be inevitable. The sewers are standing proof of that, and of hope that progress will continue slowly but surely. The Les Amis lost the battle, but they didn't lose the war. Things are going to get better, because people are going to keep fighting for it.

The past few chapters of Les Miserables featured a history lesson on the sewers of Paris and the monetary value of shit

Nobody:

Victor Hugo after killing off many beloved characters in the name of the revolution and putting Valjean and Marius in a dangerous situation: Lemme get these sewer facts to the people real quick

[spookythesillyfella]

told you guys ive been plagued by the analogue horror fixation again

[starry-eyer]

Why do you think the tides have slightly turned from "Elia deserves better than Rhaegar" to shipping her and Rhaegar together? Like what is the psychology behind these people because I've seen some of them like/reblog anti Rhaegar posts while also shipping Rhaegar x Elia at the same time.

hey anon! my thoughts are a bit messy, but i’ve done my best to explain them coherently :)

so, rhaegar was the best man anyone could have when elia was alive, and most people want the best for their favs. he was considered the most handsome, didn’t have a bad personality, and he was crown prince—meaning elia was almost queen, which is often seen as the greatest role a woman can have. the narrative also treats rhaegar as a beautiful, tragic, haunting figure, and elia actually had this very aesthetically pleasing man all to herself at one point! she was married to him, had children with him, and her life was so close to perfect! but rhaegar just had to go and ruin it. 😠

for many elia stans, if rhaegar hadn’t fallen in love with another woman (they want him to have been a completely different character), then everything would’ve been perfect, and elia would’ve had the best, most desirable life. however, that’s not what happened—elia met a very tragic end, and as a result, these stans feel double the bitterness. because of this bitterness, they blame rhaegar for everything (even though it’s not logical to do so), but he’s just too ‘perfect’ to let go of. so, for years these stans have made rhaegar revolve around elia, filling his tag with posts about her out of bitterness. so, i do believe that this obsession with rhaegar x elia has always been there, but i think it’s become a more favorable stance on the elia stan side of the fandom because of a mix of reasons.

plus, rhaegar is one of the few canon relationships we know elia had, since she’s not much of a character. because of this, and the fact that most people don’t like to stray too far from canon, most elia stans are forced to focus on rhaegar, which has created an echo chamber. basically, if a sentiment about elia and rhaegar’s relationship becomes popular, then the whole elia stan side of the fandom will likely regurgitate the sentiment. (also, this desire to stick close to canon is likely why the elia x arthur ship was so popular. while it’s a total crack ship, it had good aesthetics, and since elia and arthur at least knew each other, it allowed the stans to create their perfect fanfiction whilst sticking it to rhaegar. but remember, elia was actually married to rhaegar and had children with him, so while arthur is cool, rhaegar was always ‘top dog,’ meaning arthur would never be able to match up to rhaegar to most elia stans. also, the arthur x elia crack ship is likely her second most popular ship, which just shows how little elia stans have to work with, so they’re always forced to eventually return back to rhaegar for a lot of things.)

however, even if the elia x rhaegar ship gains more popularity, these stans will never stop hating rhaegar because he wasn’t ‘perfect’—and he wasn’t perfect because he didn’t love elia. plus, rhaegar loving another woman and supposedly kidnapping her is what began the war that led to elia’s tragic death. that’s bitterness times 1000. and while i don’t actually blame rhaegar for the war, i do think that this is how an elia stan sees it. i also don’t view rhaegar’s complex relationship with elia as a bad thing—it’s actually a very realistic take on an arranged marriage between two decent people. but most elia stans will never be able to get over the fact that they almost had everything, which is why many have it out for lyanna, as they consider her a thief who ruined their ‘perfection.’

tbh, that might be why so many elia stans are so obsessed with the idea that rhaegar only got with lyanna because of the prophecy—they don’t want to believe that rhaegar actually loved a different woman and not their perfect self insert elia. that’s a bit mean of me… but i don’t know what else one would call the ‘elia’ elia stans have created.

now that i’ve laid all those thoughts out, i’ll try to explain why the tides seem to be turning… i think it may have something to do with the ‘targaryens are all evil and bad’ sentiment losing popularity. i think this shift has occurred due to a mix of factors, such as years of fandom fights and fandom cycles leading to the targs being more liked now than before. it helps that canon doesn’t actually condemn the targs/favors them quite a bit, and the influx of new targ fans from HOTD has also contributed. this combination of reasons seems to have shifted the way the mainstream fandom discusses all the targaryen characters, including rhaegar. so, with this shift, it’s only natural that some elia stans/elia x rhaegar shippers—who’ve always been there—are using this opportunity to push their agenda. while these stans still hate rhaegar and see him as the bad guy, they just can’t let go of him. and as the mainstream fandom moves away from the anti targaryen sentiment, these smaller corners of the fandom, which tend to be echo chambers, are also affected, which has therefore led to a rise in rhaegar x elia shippers and the ‘shifting tide’ that you’ve also noticed.

[carnivalls]

.

See the thing is. I know I'm good at writing. Like I have my weak areas or things I need to improve in, but it's not a skill I otherwise spend a lot of time feeling insecure about because a) if I don't believe in my writing literally who will b) if I want to publish my writing I ought to at least feel a resting level of good about it because editors and agents likely will not be cradling my face like a prize cat and telling me how talented I am while asking for their edits c) I've always had an audience for my writing even at its worst– I started sharing my original works online when I was around 16 & that really helped sell to me the idea of 'there will always be someone out there who likes what you do' d) untalented men never think this hard about the quality of their works and they always end up published anyway and e) I don't have many other thoroughly developed skills so why not have one I feel good about. Having said this. Awkward feeling to realize you're one of the authorial weak links in your postgraduate creative writing degree's social circle

[averlym]

whshdfhfjf.,,,

[no1ryomafan]

My brain has gone back and forth on between which anime if arma or new is my favorite. Cause even with all its issues Arma means a lot to me, it’s the reason I got into getter and helped me through one of the worst times of my life- But then new is objectively better written and it drives me nuts compared to arma it’s not talked about ENOUGH despite all the stuff you can poke at from it’s plot and I’m trying to pinpoint that reason since the general consensus is “no one hates new and it gets a lot of fanart in the Japanese community yet it’s never deeply acknowledged so it feels unpopular”

So my standpoint is “do I keep investing into the popular iteration despite its issues or do I invested into the less flawed unpopular iteration when it comes to introducing getter to new people?” cause man as much as I’m a critical person of media I still can forgive some messy writing if I have a good time with it and can clearly tell the staff had fun making it, which is definitely armas case. (Though they absolutely had fun with new too)

[ryderdire]

Just cried over Math for the first time in like 6 years so that’s where I’m at

[arolesbianism]

Shout out to my poor poor friend who keeps sending me video game songs trying to pin down my music taste like oh buddy I'm so sorry but Penny's battle theme is so small beans compared to the stuff I listen to

[invinciblerodent]

While I fully agree with this analysis (really, it's excellent!!), and I'm sure this has also been mentioned before, there's just one thing I'd like to add that makes me still... genuinely like this whole scene. What makes it, to me, more... hopeful, bittersweet, even romantic, rather than just a piece of masterfully done character insight the sheer sadness of which only becomes clear in retrospect.

And it's this little face, a couple seconds later.

This cute, surprised smile that flashes across his face for just a second- at least if you take the "let him bite you" option, and the PC decides not only to offer to let him taste their blood while in the act (something he's never experienced before, guaranteed), but more importantly, also makes it fun.

Sure, rolling around in the dirt and dead leaves is not glamorous, super sexy (mild disagree from me), or even very comfortable. It's not part of the envisioned "I'll sweep you off your feet and slam you against a tree to have my wicked way with you" wish-fulfillment routine he's performing, much like being asked what he wants isn't. But play-fighting like that, getting knocked on his back, I think it goes a long way in rattling him in the aforementioned "seduction" mindset of things (even though it obviously doesn't knock him fully out of it), and drives home that undercurrent that this is different. It's still a performance, mostly- there's still probably that thin thread of disgust, but on the heels of it, there's also enjoyment, fun, companionship, and an unprecedented (and memorable) kind of pleasure that's as much physical as it is emotional.

And I think that pleasure might simply be the trust. Despite everything. Despite what might be wise. He's experiencing casually given, natural trust, even though he's potentially told the PC more about the sludge festering in his brain than he has told anyone before.

I mean sure, tasting the blood of a "thinking creature" is obviously pleasurable on its own, but it's also very much novel to him that he's with someone he knows, and even likes somewhat, later admits to being actually attracted to, and whom he knows is going to be alive in the morning. And on he flipside of it, this little action shows to him that the PC is a person who knows more about him than any "mark" has before, and not only accepts that, but also trusts him not to hurt them, even though they're fully aware of how easily he could. It is a very small sign that this person... might actually be able to see him.

Eventually.

Maybe.

I went into his romance on my second game, so I kind of knew the pain that was beneath the surface of his "hot sexy vampire elf" persona (that, after getting to know the character somewhat, honestly feels very ill-fitting, strange, almost off-putting even, in Act 1), but... this tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it smile is probably one of my favorite moments of his romance arc, at least in the early game part.

This little glimmer of hope that shakes loose, if the mask is rattled.

I like this glimmer. I think it suits him. ☺️

I used to really love the first romance scene with Astarion (and I still do) but it hits so much harder after you know why he's doing it. That he's purposefully seducing you for protection and blood, that he's forcing himself to sleep with you, and this is a mask he's wearing.

It's a sexy scene and really feeds into the vampy (pun intended) jump-your-bones version of him you get at the start of the game. The whole thing starts out with him being so confident and suave, saying that he's wanted you ever since he set eyes on you and how you want to be known and tasted. It's like everyone's perfect vampire romance novel.

He's laying out the bait that's worked thousands of times over and luring you in. And you can just get right to the kissing if you want.

But, you can also stop and ask him, "And what do you want?"

And for just a moment the mask drops. This is not the same cocky seductive face we've had up until now. This is vulnerability showing. When has anyone asked him what he wants? When has anyone cared? Does he even know the answer to that question?

So he pivots. The mask snaps back into place immediately. He turns back into the master seducer and feeds you a line about shared ecstasy to get you back on track.

And then comes what is, to me, the pivotal moment. He asks you "That's what you want, isn't it? To lose yourself in me?"

Looking at his body language he seems unsure at first, maybe questioning his previous tactics. Then he slightly cowers back, lowering himself as he asks the question. The total opposite of his confidence from earlier where he's standing with his arms out wide.

He's not sure what you want anymore. You're not playing by the rules he knows. Why haven't you taken the bait yet? Why haven't you thrown yourself at him?

And when you finally Nod in agreement, confirming you're here for sex?

This. This is the face he gives you. He just looks so damn sad. To me, it hearkens back to "Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?"

Whatever momentary blip made him question why you're there with him, he's just been reassured about both of your roles in this situation.

He sounds so quietly resigned when he answers: "I thought so."

And then the scene transitions into the actual act. I do like to think Astarion enjoyed himself as I'm sure the PC did, but it's hard for me to watch this scene now that I know his story and history without being uncomfortable.

Just that line "lose yourself in me" is so difficult to hear. Because on paper it's so sensual. Who wouldn't want a lover to feel that way about them? But knowing the context of what Astarion expects and believes in this moment is just... oof.

And to me, this is what makes this scene brilliant. The writing, voice acting, and the mocap/animation are all just SO GOOD. It's so delicately done and Astarion the character is so good at playing a role that you can completely gloss over the deeper stuff. But once the mask is eventually stripped away you can't help but see what was there the whole time.

And as we've established, being seen is a whole aspect of Astarion's romance arc.

I originally romanced Astarion for the same reasons I'm sure most did: he's a hot, sexy vampire elf (i.e. everything that's on the surface). But, I keep coming back to him over and over again for the person I know is waiting for me underneath the mask.

[readingwriter92]

See I’ve spent the last few months perfecting my ability to make rice on the stove (mainly bc it’s my. I woke up at noon and don’t want to eat meal for weekends).

Anyways so I bought some canned peas and carrots and ima start to slowly level up my cooking

[drchucktingle]

my masks

hey there buckaroos. due to all of the attention the TEXAS LIBRARY ASSOCIATION situation has gotten i am going to take a minute to talk about my personal way as an autistic buckaroo. im going to tell you about my masks.

im doing this for a few reasons, some are good FUN reasons full of love and some are not so great. 

lets start with the GOOD STUFF. first of all, i am talking about this because speaking on my way can help other buckaroo feel more comfortable speaking on there own way, ESPECIALLY if they are good at ‘passing’ for neurotypical like chuck is. 

unfortunately the NOT SO GREAT reasons im talking about all this dang stuff are two fold. reason one: i have been put into a position of having to explain and justify my needs and boundaries by the TXLA. this is not something that i WANT to be taking up all of my time, but when large organizations do not make space for those who they have pledged to support, it puts us smaller buckaroos into position where were have to defend our existence. it is not plesent but it is necessary.

the second NOT SO GREAT reason is that ‘passing’ bisexual and autistic people like myself are ALWAYS just seconds from being gatekept from folks both outside and inside these communities. there will probably be a day on chucks deathbed where i take off my mask and say hello to this timeline (mostly so you can all see how handsome i am under here but I DIGRESS). i KNOW with absolute certainty (the same way other bi and autistic buckaroos are probably nodding along right now) that when that day comes i will STILL be accused of ‘not being real’ and ‘faking’ because i ‘dont look autistic’ and i have a beautiful ladybuck partner in sweet barbara.

ALL THAT IS TO SAY, i am taking a moment today to talk FOR THE RECORD about my neurodigence and my particular needs. hopefully i will not have to keep diving this deep every time an organization takes a discrimantory action against me, but i will also say this: at least it is a good fight on an important battlefield

anyway buds, here is the story of my way on the spectrum

when i was a young buckaroo i knew that my thought process was different. i could socialize easily, which is unique in contrast to many autistic buds (it is a spectrum after all), but my social ease was for an interesting reason. I ALWAYS KNEW WHAT OTHERS WERE ABOUT TO SAY. it was like a strange ‘human game’ where someone would say one thing and i would think ‘well you actually mean something else’ in a sort of logical way (this is why i later related to DATA from star trek so dang much). at first i remember thinking ‘well i am just NOT going to play along with this human game’. i quickly learned neurotypical buckaroos do not like this, that there is a BOB AND WEAVE to social interactions that must be learned. 

later i realized ‘actually if i WANT to make friends and prove love is real then i can do this like an expert because i can SEE the game where most cant’. this got chuck many buds and took me on many adventures. please understand, i am not saying these connections are not important to me, they are just different. they are full of love, but i express this in my own unique way.

HOWEVER, while growing up i felt disconnected from this timeline in other ways, like an alien or a reverse twin trotting along in a world that is not quite my own. i did not feel emotions the same way my buds did. they would get upset over the ‘human game’ interactions and i would not be moved at all, HOWEVER i could see the way sunlight hit a window and start crying my dang eyes out over the beauty. so my emotion was still there and VERY STRONG, i just felt it in more existential ways (like hearing the call of the lonesome train). these days that feeling has progressed to where i am pretty much in a constant blissed out state of cosmic emotional connection (make of that last sentence what you will, but it is the truth). when i make existential posts online i am not just FIRING OFF SOME CONTENT, i really mean every word. this is really my trot.

anyway as a young buckaroo these feelings made me worry sometimes. i thought about various mental health dianosises and marked the parts and pieces that matched with myself. am i this? am i that? sometimes, instead of just being’ different’ i worried i might actually be ‘wrong’. 

when i saw david byrne on letterman in my younger days i immediately recognized something connected to myself. i thought ‘wow this is the mystery being solved before my very eyes.’ i could hear it in the music of talking heads too. i started doing research and realized that i might be on autism spectrum, something that was later confirmed by a therapist (back then the diagnosis was called asperger's). it was a glorious and fulfilling moment. i was SO EXCITED TO BE AUTISTIC LIKE MY HERO. i felt very cool because of it, and i still feel very cool because of it.

one of the big reasons i talk so much about being autistic these days is because i want to make sure OTHER buckaroos can have that same moment that i did. they can see chuck and think ‘wow i really like this autistic artist, maybe being autistic is cool’

so what does an average day WITHOUT wearing the pink bag look like for me?

my thought process is exactly like ROSE from CAMP DAMASCUS, which is part of why i wrote the book. we have the same stim (complex order of finger taps), we prepare for social interactions the same way, we analyze things in the same logical trot that neurotypical people might think feels ‘detached’ but for me feels natural (certain reviews of camp damascus are very funny to me in this way. you can tell when a reader is just very confused by existing in an autistic brain for 250 pages.)

from the outside you would not be able to tell that i am on the spectrum. in fact you would probably find me very socially adept. 

the problem is, all of that masking can take its toll. i spent years trotting in and out the emergency room, talking to confused doctors who could not figure out the chronic phantom tension and pain that radiated through my body. i eventually accepted the fact that i would either live a life constantly on heavy painkillers or just stop living altogether.

eventually, however, i started noticing a correlation between the way that i felt, and the space that i allowed for chuck and the pink mask. i was exercising that tension, allowing my mental mask of neurotypical existence to take a rest. i started practicing physical therapy and this time THE RESULTS STUCK because i was approaching from two sides, MIND AND BODY. after a while, i got my pain down to about 5 percent of what it once was. i still have flare ups in times of stress, but the healing has been very real and life changing.

lets get VERY specific now. if i attended the TXLA confrence without a mask and gave my talk i can tell you this: i would do a dang good job. i can work the heck out of a crowd and (not to reveal too much about my secret way) I HAVE BEEN KNOWN TO DO THIS ON OCCASION VERY WELL. however, going home from this event i would very likely be in pain. i would likely need to do physical therapy. i would likely need to stim for a while. i would NOT be emotionally fullfilled in the same way. in other words, without my pink mask i can charm the heck out of buckaroos, but THE SPACE OF CHUCK TINGLE IS NOT THE SPACE FOR THAT. the pink bag is a place for me to not have to put up with that tension. it is a place for me to unmask mentally by masking physically.

this pink bag space SAVED MY LIFE and i am not going to risk blurring these lines. if and when that ever happens it will be MY decision, not someone elses. that is my boundary. the part of me that neurotypically masks could handle a library conference in a purely technical sense, but the part of me that chuck represents absolutely cannot and should not be asked to do that without the pink bag. unfortunately, the complexity of this point makes it even MORE difficult for me to think about and takes up even more of my time, because it forces me to START QUESTIONING MYSELF and my own needs. to be honest, that is the most insidious part of other people questioning your identify and refusing to accept your accommodation needs without ‘proof’.

the thing is, while all of this discussion of disability and accessibility is important, i have a much larger point to make by writing these words.

a conference should not uninvite someone with an unusual physical presentation or a strange way of speaking REGARDLESS of it being classified as a disability. it does not matter WHY i look the way that i look and wear what i wear. i should not have to spend all day writing this post instead of writing my next book, just because my sensibilities are unique and my presentation is unusual. 

fortunately the solution is very simple: let other people be themselves. its not hurting you to simply accept and nod at the buckaroos you think look strange. let us exist

[cuteandhughesy]

I’m Talking Nonsense | Mikko Rantanen

summary: everyone in the avalanche social media room knows that getting mikko rantanen to participate in content was a lost cause—that is until you showed up.

4.3k

warnings: flirting | lil bit of pining | mature themes | lil hot and heavy kissing | allusions to sex but no actual smut | read at your own discretion

a/n: okay…so obviously I started writing this before the trade—because nobody in their right mind was expecting mikko to get traded. but I digress, anyways! I originally wanted to post this on valentine’s day but in this moment of sadness, I knew all the mikko girls (myself included) needed this pick me up ❤️ to all you liking my old mikko fic—I see yall and we got this.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

mikko rantanen didn't hate social media — actually, no he did hate it. the finnish native always knew it to be invasive and impersonal, and he'd rather not have to look at fake happy, posed pictures and videos that make his life feel less than. and that's coming for a guy living as a professional athlete.

so when tiktok started gaining more traction and other nhl teams were making accounts for their respective teams—mikko was dreading it. he thought there was a level of privacy that should be respected, and having a camera shoved in your face is totally breaching boundaries. the thought of the avalanche making an account was just not something he wanted.

after a shitty practice—hell even a good practice—the last thing he wanted was to be asked if he thought he could land a plane, or if he believes in aliens...mikko just wanted to go home.

and mikko understands that the social admin was simply doing their jobs, but he couldn't help but fill with irritation anytime they'd approach him with the phone and mini-microphone and/or question cup. it was the quickest way to piss him off.

it didn't help that the avalanche fans were always in the comments asking about his noticeable absence. they wanted to see more of their assistant captain outside of gruelling post-game interviews and game highlights—they wanted the real and fun side of mikko they very rarely had the chance of seeing.

but that didn't change mikko's opinion of social media—he'd avoid the admin team at any costs, especially when he saw that stupid tiktok phone and various props he knew he'd hate to use.

that is, until you showed up.

the first time mikko saw you—standing behind the usual admin suspects with a nervous gaze and fiddling hands—he didn't think much of it. sure, you were pretty, but mikko thinks a lot of girls are pretty.

but then as the months past and your surprisingly warm and bubbly personality began peeking through your hard exterior shell, mikko begin feeling intrigued. you are always smiling, even if someone is giving you a hard time—when he is giving you a hard time—and you're constantly trying to bond with the players. you remember who these athletes are at their core—human, which a lot of people in your job description seem to forget.

the team quickly grew fond of you, and when they saw it was you in the hallway with a cup of questions, or in their locker room with that stupid tiny microphone—the energy would shift. that's just how you are though—vibrant and welcoming, and the guys feed off that energy and turn into a fun group of giddy boys.

even nathan mackinnon, who was almost as turned off by social media as mikko, enjoyed your company, doing silly things for tiktok's he'd never even dreamed of.

it had mikko's own exterior beginning to crack. before he'd be more apprehensive to the idea of participating in social media trends he had no clue about, but you and your grin had him changing.

—

lina, your co-worker looks at you over the top of her laptop, analyzing your soft face as you work on your own computer—editing a tiktok that needed to go up today. you're left with very minimal time, as the avalanche practice finishes in 5 minutes. which means in 15 you both have to head down for some more content.

it's the third time in the past minute lina as looked at you—you can feel her eyes burning through the middle of your forehead. slowly, your eyes trial up and meet hers, a questioning pull to your furrowed eyebrows. "you okay?"

she huffs—not in annoyance or impatience, but rather curiosity. lina flicks her red hair over her shoulder, and then crosses her arms—her gaze never leaving yours. "i'm trying to figure out how you do it."

you're even more confused now. "do what?"

lina snorts like it's obvious. "you've been here five months, y/n. it's been five months of watching you work with the guys and more specifically, getting mikko to work with you."

your lips contort into a confused pout—any more confusion and your head will begin to pound. you're not sure what lina is trying to imply, because as far as you know all the guys on the avs are extremely good with you and have never given you a hard time—that's just how they are...right?

"mikko is great." you hum dismissively, your fingers resuming their place on your keyboard as you continue the code in your side bar to enable the audio change in the clip—attempting to remove ross' loud voice from the background so you can better hear cale's answer.

"that's the thing," lina starts, eyes full of amusement as she leans over the table. "he's really not."

you pause. "what?"

"before you showed up, mikko was always turning a blind eye to me and nick. if we even attempted to talk to him the way you do—well, it never ended how we wanted it to." her face contorts as if she's reliving it.

one of your brows raise in question. "did he like...sentence you to a guillotine or something?"

lina disapproves of your humorous tone, sending you daggers across the meeting room table. she shuts her laptop, resting her elbow atop the logo as she puts her chin in her palm. "ha ha."

satisfied with her pointed response, you get back to work. but, lina isn't done. "he hates this kind of stuff."

"no he doesn't," you retort quickly. "mikko seems happy when I have questions for him. in fact, yesterday he came over to me and asked for one—said something about how they 'make his day bright'" you mimic mikko's deep accent to the best of your abilities, but you sound more like a drowning troll rather than the 6"4 winger.

lina's eyes widen comically—she can't believe what's she's hearing. "anytime I even point the phone in his direction he scowls and walks away. so what are you doing to get him to cooperate?" she eyes you quizzically for a moment before a devious lightbulb goes off in her head, expression morphing into a playful, teasing one. "are you fucking him?"

you squeak, and your cheeks heat up to an undeniable level of embarrassment. "no!" and it's true—of course you're not sleeping with mikko.

she raises her hands in surrender, but her smile doesn't let up. "I wouldn't blame you if you were, y/n. he's hot—like stupid hot."

"okay," you huff, covering your burning cheeks with your hands. "maybe you should sleep with him then."

lina snorts. "trust me—if I could get near him I would."

"you know," you start, "I really don't think what you're saying is true. maybe mikko didn't like it in the past, but I think he's changed his option on the social media stuff."

she raises her brow—almost challengingly. "think so?"

"yup." you hum.

"let's test it, then." lina chimes. "today i'll go up to mikko first, and ill do exactly what you would do when approaching him. and when he sends me away—which he will—then you'll go up to him, and we'll see what happens."

it's tempting—mostly because you're certain there won't be a difference in the way mikko acts towards you then he does lina. sure, mikko isn't always the most sunshine and rainbows when it comes to his personality, but he's always been compliant with you.

so although he's broody and definitely not in love with the idea of having a camera in his face—you're sure he's not going to turn lina away.

"you're on."

it's not 5 minutes later you're both packing up your respective things, preparing to make your way down to the locker room where the guys are surly anticipating your and lina's arrival.

the room is bustling with people—half dressed hockey players and pressing reporters fill the locker room, which creates a slightly hectic environment—but you're used to it by now. so neither of you seem suspicious, you ask a few of the other avs players your selected questions for the day. questions you and lina had argued about for the entire morning—she thought most of them were stupid, you thought they were was hilarious.

plus, the reporters are still swarmed around mikko's stall—the finnish native standing in the middle with a deadpanned look on his face, barley listening to them as they ask the same repetitive questions as usual.

you and lina get some good content from ross colton and josh manson, both players giving you ridiculous and enthusiastic responses to the absurd questions you'd earlier shoved in the alumni silver cup.

lina's mischievous look is back as the sea of middle aged reporters move onto their next victim—cale makar—leaving mikko by his lonesome. "i'll be back." before you can react, she plucks the phone out of your hands, effortlessly making her way through the room until she's in front of mikko.

you strain your ears, but it's no use as the chatter in the locker room is too overpowering, and you're unable to hear lina or mikko. miles wood gives you an odd look—eyeing the way you stand ridged beside his stall, gnawing your thumb as you watch lina talk to the blonde winger—but you don’t notice.

it's only a moment before lina turns around, her grin even wider than it was before as she makes her way back towards you. "your turn." she chimes, thrusting the phone back in your palms.

"what happened?" you question.

lina raises one her brows, pushing you in the direction of mikko's stall. "he didn't want to answer anymore questions."

"okay," you draw. "so maybe I shouldn't go over there."

lina continues guiding you in his general direction. "no it's actually exactly why you should go over there."

you don't get to argue any further as you're suddenly right in front of mikko—almost too close, and if you take another step towards him you're thighs will bump his knees.

speaking of thighs—mikko's are on full display. the huge, muscle carved limbs spread wide as he manspreads in his stall. the expanse of smooth, hard skin making you feel flustered and suddenly intrigued. your eyes flicker upwards, finding the icy blue ones of mikko looking back at you.

you swallow, a heat rising to your cheeks. "hi, mikko."

"hi, y/n." he says your name playfully, the faintest smile pulling at his lips. "you okay?"

you nod too quickly and immediately curse yourself for acting so uncool. you've never been this nervous around any of the avs, especially not mikko, but lina's comments about his looks earlier are lingering in your mind—leaving you flustered.

because obviously you are aware mikko is hot, but now you can't help but be really aware of the fact. damn lina.

"yeah," you clear your throat, clutching the cellphone tightly in your hand. "I was actually just wondering if you'd answer a question for tiktok? for me? promise it'll be quick."

his eyes flicker over your warm, hopeful face, and after a beat he sighs gently, a quick nod following. "yeah I can do that for you."

you can't help the way your eyes widen at his agreement. mikko seems oblivious to your shocked state, removing his remaining elbow pad and tossing it towards the back of his messy stall.

you catch a whiff of his intoxicating scent, and even with the sweat lingering across his forehead and soaking his branded undershirt, mikko smells so good. he's always been enveloped in a cloud of clean laundry and something slightly woodsy, and even though you're extremely professional, it never fails to make you falter.

you clear your throat and your head. "really?"

mikko runs the damp towel previously hung around his neck through his messy curls, making the appearance of them even more fluffy and soft. his eyes twinkle with amusement, a matching half smile blossoming on his lips. "yeah, really. why do you sound shocked?"

you make a tiny noise of confusion in the back of your throat, shooting a glance to lina over your shoulder. she sends you a triumphant look, brow raised like she knew that she was right.

she is right.

you look back at mikko quickly, "I just thought..." you trail off, brows pulling tightly as you think about the excuse he gave to lina—you're so confused. you've never noticed before if mikko had a certain favouritism towards you over lina, or even nick. I mean, you never paid attention to anything like that—but now you feel like you should be more aware, because this doesn't make sense.

"you thought..?" mikko raises one eyebrow, waiting for the second half of your sentence.

"nothing." you blink quickly, adjusting the phone in your hand. "sorry, let's just get to it."

you're still in some sort of shock for the rest of the day—the pieces of the puzzle in your mind loose and turned upside down as you try and understand mikko's dismissal of lina, or better yet, his compliance with you.

it had you further trying to solve the mystery. does mikko just prefer you? does he like your voice over your co-workers? maybe you smell like his favourite desert? does he like you? does mikko want to fuck you?

you're not sure where to pinpoint the source, but you're also determined to find the answer. with some help for lina, and even a little input from nick, you conjure up a plan—which lina finds the upmost entertainment in.

but you mean nothing but business. for the next few weeks it's only you who works with mikko rantanen—it's you asking him questions and having him participate in stupid games. and without fail, every single time you ask him, mikko complies.

so you get crazier with it. whether it's a questions about my little pony—a show mikko has never even heard of—or having him lift you onto his shoulder while a sabrina carpenter song plays through the tiktok recording—he is participating without complaining.

every. single. time.

it has your good friends, but ever so annoying colleagues theorizing.

"maybe he's got a thing for girls with her hair colour? can't resist them." nick chimes, sipping some piping hot coffee from an avalanche branded mug.

you roll your eyes, pulling open the microwave to grab your shitty frozen meal.

lina's laugh echos through the staff room, "mhmm...or maybe her eye colour." she sends you a teasing look before slurping some saucy noddles up into her mouth.

before you can respond nick pipes up again, "he definitely wants in her pants."

you take a seat beside lina—across from your male coworker—and send them both a slightly amused, but deadpanned look. "are you guys done?"

despite your attitude towards them, you can't help but wonder if their theories are correct. sure, mikko seems sweet enough—towards you anyways—but with the way you're barley pushing him into participating in stupid little tiktok's, has you pondering. mikko is nice...but not that nice.

is he just trying to get into your pants? and then forgot about you? the thought has you feeling angry, because you're not just some girl who he can treat nicely until he gets what he wants—absolutely not. and you're not going to let him treat you like a fool, just because he wants his dick wet.

the following day you’re determined to get answers and put your mind at ease. you like mikko—he’s a great guy—but you don’t want to feel like you’re being used. there was a team meeting and breakfast today, without the pressure of practice or a game—essentially an off day for the guys.

as the chaos of the dining room begins clearing out, only a few lingering athletes and staff members at some of the tables, you make your way across the room with a determined step, looking for mikko.

you catch the broad expanse of his back and blonde hair sticking out from underneath his beanie just as he slips out the door. you grumble to yourself, speeding up in hopes to catch him before he leaves the facility.

pushing open the rather heavy door to the hallway, you’re immediately greeted by his familiar laugh and gabe landeskogs smooth voice—spewing some dad joke that only mikko would find funny.

before you can sike yourself out, you march up to the two european teammates. “rantanen, I need to talk to you.”

they pause in their slow steps, conversation halting abruptly as both men turn to look at you. the sight of your hard expression and pointed gaze has mikko swallowing roughly, eyeing you with confusion.

gabe snickers quietly, the sound missing your ears, and pats mikko’s shoulder sympathetically. “last name, huh? good luck.” with that the avalanche captain stalks off, disappearing down the quiet hallway.

you cross your arms defensively, looking up—way up—at him, tone rough and determined. “are you trying to fuck me or something?”

“whoa whoa, just hold on a second.” mikko’s eyes widen, looking around the hallways quickly to ensure you were alone. even though he doesn’t see any physical bodies, mikko can’t be too sure—especially when he can sense the conversation is going in a direction that doesn’t need to be overheard.

he gently takes ahold of your wrist, guiding you towards the open meeting room directly across from the kitchen. the censor lights flicker alive as you step into the empty, quiet room—illuminating the once dark space.

mikko lets go of your arm, shutting the door with a soft click before turning back to you. he analyzes your face, eyes flickering over your still pointed eyes and the angry pull to your mouth. confused, he steps towards you. “are you joking with me?”

you raise your brows. “do I look like i'm joking with you, mikko?”

he shakes his head gently, like he’s trying to come up with a reason for your sudden coldness—you’ve never acted this way around him, and seeing you so irritated is rather strange. “why are you asking me that?”

he’s referring to the first question you’d asked him—rather angrily may he add. mikko is unsure what brought on the rather sexual outburst of a question, only because it’s so unlike you. in fact, one time ross colton tried to make a sexual innuendo with you, and you just about turned the colour of a ripe apple.

mikko thinks he must’ve done something—or said something to make you not only think like that, but ask him about—without so much as a blush on your face. you were serious.

you cross your arms again, defensive walls still built high. clearing your throat, you look away from mikko and towards the navy blue patterned rug covering the floor. “ why are you so nice to me?”

you practically whisper, timidly running your foot along the worn out carpet.

mikko blinks. “what?” he’s even more confused now—because why wouldn’t he be nice to you. you’re sweet, and respectful, and funny, and beautiful, and you’re you.

you meet his eyes again, expect this time there’s more emotion swimming in them, and you’re slowly coming down of your flurry of anger—left with fear and your own confusion. “like..,” you start unsure, “you only do the media stuff when i'm the one asking you to. are you only being nice to me so that like, you'll get in my pants?”

you’re right, he thinks. he only does media when you ask, but it’s not because he suddenly wants to if you’re the one asking, it’s because he can’t say no to you. mikko never wants to see you sad—he never wants to see the current look on your face when he can help it.

mikko shakes his head, slow and steady. “no. that's not why i'm nice to you.”

“no?” you parrot, the tiniest hint of disbelief in your tone.

“no.” mikko repeats firmly. “i'm nice to you because I like you.”

“like as a friend?” you gulp, arms falling to your sides as you’re no longer strong enough to hold them around yourself.

mikko doesn’t see the point of hiding his true feelings any longer. the thought of you thinking he had ulterior motives with his kindness literally makes his stomach hurt, and he can’t have you believing he’s trying to use you for his own benefit.

so with a gentle sigh, he takes another step closer to you, eyes softening as he takes in your hesitant gaze and red cheeks. “more than a friend.” mikko admits gently.

your face falls, “oh.” you’re in some sort of shock, looking up at the winger with parted lips and wide eyes. the way mikko is looking at you, so raw and real, has any lingering hesitance falling away, and your expression quickly shifts.

“yeah, oh.” the corner of mikko’s plump lip slides upwards, the beginning stages of a lopsided smirk growing on his flushing face.

he reaches towards you, slowly, hands enveloping the sides of your head as he holds you in his palms. mikko’s hands are so warm and big, completely covering your cheeks and ears—the feeling itself has you turned on.

your breath hitches as mikko’s rough thumbs begin running over your cheekbones, stroking your warm skin absentmindedly.

his tongue licks along his bottom lip, moistening the skin slowly. mikko swallows gently, not once taking his gaze off your flustered face. “but like, just so there’s no confusion, I would eat you out on the table until you’re crying if that’s what you wanted.”

you inhale sharply, stomach dropping with excitement and adrenaline. your body flutters at his words, “mikko.” you whine in a whisper, hands reaching out and resting against his hard pecks. you have no control of your hands, the need to feel him under your palms too strong. you begin running over his covered chest, his muscles tightening and nipples hardening under your deliberate touches.

mikko huffs shakily before he comes down, kissing you with as much passion he can manage. his lips are surprisingly soft and smooth, enclosing and teasing yours in a messy, hard way. the feeling has your stomach swooping further, toes curling in your shoes as the kiss grows harder—needier.

suddenly, mikko’s hands run down your body, passing over your ass with a firm squeeze. you moan into his mouth as his hands find the backs of your thighs, picking you up.

you gasp as he lifts you effortlessly, sitting you on the table like it’s nothing—mikko smirks at the sound you make, and he can’t help the way his dick twitches in his pants. his wet lips trail off your mouth, travelling over your jaw and down your neck where he continues giving you hot, and hurried kisses.

reluctantly, your eyes flutter open, running a hand under mikko’s beanie, gripping the base of his hair between your trembling fingers. “we can get in a lot of trouble for this.” you breathe.

despite your words, your hips rolls against his hardening length, your cores at the perfect angle with you sitting on the table to grinding together deliciously.

mikko pulls back, eyes glazed with lust as he grins. “I know. so we'll just have to be sneaky.” his words are husky, sending your blood pumping and head swirling with need.

he leans back in, giving you another eye rolling kiss. you push his hat off his head completely, giving yourself free reign of his messy curls, tugging the blonde strands as your heart desires.

mikko pulls you closer on the tabletop, further bumping your clothed heat against his. his large hands slide underneath the back of your top, running over your spine and fiddling with the edge of your lacy bralette.

you sigh trembly, disconnecting the kiss. “i'll have to stop asking you questions though. because now I really won't be able to control myself around you.”

the admission has mikko smirking, biting his lip seductively. one of his hands round to your front, groping your tit over your bra. “I turn you on baby?” he already knew the answer to his question—your hardened nipples and shifting hips giving him all the information he needs.

you laugh through a breathless exhale, and you gently hit his shoulder. “be serious. you'll have to tolerate lina, and start saying yes when she asks you to do things.”

“no promises.” he chimes playfully, hands running back down your torso—leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you give him a soft, serene smile, which as mikko following suit—looking at you the way he always has. “I really like you, mikko.” you admit gently, one of your hands running over his building bicep before sliding around to rest on his shoulder blade.

for a moment, his smile remains admirable, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that has ever mattered. mikko has been dreaming of the day you say those words, and actually hearing you speak them is just otherworldly.

but because he’s a boy, and you’re his dream girl with his spit coating your plump lips—he can’t help himself. mikko’s hand rounds to your front, dipping underneath the waistband of your leggings and sliding over your underwear. he thumbs your clit over the thin material, and your mouth goes slack at his touch.

he breathes, smirking at the feeling of your arousal soaking through your panties. “yeah I can tell.”

“shut up.” you huff, pulling him back in to continue your desperate kiss.

[satorurize]

𐙚 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄¡!

cw. 18+ flithy smut, Sub!Gojo, Dom!Reader, Enemies to lovers, gojo is a virgin and the word loser is used a lot.

AcademicRival!Satoru believed he'll have a merry time getting paired with you for your upcoming assignment, afterall, you were fun to pick on and he adored the way the vein would pop on your forehead after he says something to completely throw you off the tracks. His plan was to make you do all the work while he gets on your nerves to pass his time.

Satoru prides himself in being jack of all trades, he's the captain of the collegiate basketball team, student body president, has 4.0 GPA in his astrophysics major and is on the dean's list, his stunning good looks were to kill for and to add to those never ending positive attributes he's filthy rich, if it wasn't so obvious by his sports car's raging engine whenever he drifts it around in the campus. Gojo Satoru was a star. Gojo Satoru was game.

Admirers and people lining up for him was no big of a deal, it is the routine when you're him. You're one of the many people who find him fascinating, find him attractive (which was something you would never admit to, even if a ceiling fell over you) but still, why was he shaking his legs underneath the table while he watches the furrow of your brow focused on the screen in his dorm room? He's way too distracted to read this paper about Aesthetics and Marxism—he only took up sociology because it was a humanities requirement within his course and also because he was utterly, out of his mind bored.

Feeling the burning gaze of his abnormally blue eyes, you slam your fist onto the table and anyone who was in their right mind would be able to decipher that your expression was twisted in unfiltered annoyance, the mask of a small, pleasant smile as your veins popped on your forehead was failing miserably. "We could get a lot done if you didn't think this was a staring contest"

"Wow, really? I did think it was a staring contest with how boring all this is" He mocked knowing it would only agitate you further, his eyes shamelessly trailed over the plushness of your thighs and how the skirt fabric sat on top of it, his thoughts were digressing, wondering about the colour of your pant—

"What are you looking at, pervert..?" You point it out to break the unholy chain of his thoughts immediately, his eyes widened by being caught off-guard, evading away to focus on the papers in front of him, lasering his eyes to aim at understand at whatever 'Russian constructivism' meant, his fist gripped the pencil tighter and tighter as he felt unbelievably panicked at being caught, the trance of embarrassment breaking away along with a sharp 'snap' of the pencil.

With a faltering attempt to maintain his cockiness, Satoru looked at you. "Just looking at how much of a loser you look, even broke a pencil because it's annoying how nerdy you dress" a painful roll of his eyes followed by, but his ventures to cover the way he felt were too poor and what was the parameter? The goddamned seductive smile on your pretty lips.

Gojo Satoru was game, but he was a fucking virgin.

"Lying is not going to save your ass, I can literally see the tent in your pants, what are you..a teenager..?" The mockery in your eyes and the superiority you had over him in that very moment was enough to make him let go of his guards and feel his knees buck. You were beautiful and he was so pathetically down bad for that.

"Unlike you, I have many things to excel at..who has time for something as stupid as this anyway" You had to give some kudos for the fact that his voice remained balanced despite the throbbing erection in his pants, and you made a face with slanting pursed lips that was to show him you believed him, although anyone could tell you didn't.

"what is with that face? You think you're better than me? What do you know about sex, having your cute nose burried in those stupid books all day.." And that statement makes you raise your brow, Satoru Gojo, called you cute? This was something, this was when he knew he messed up and you had all the power.

"Why don't I show it to you then? You wanna be a loser in this one area? Come on.. you're better than that, right?" Satoru gulped, the offer was beyond tempting, all those fantasies he ran his mind for while wrapping his hand around his cock in his dark dorm room, relieving himself while yearning for the warmth for your mouth and cunt—finally had the chance to be fleshed out to life. It was tempting indeed but what about his ego?

"Sure, I bet you suck at this too" He huffed a laugh with his faux confidence, only to be miserably proved wrong within a few minutes.

"Please— fuck! Your mouth feels so good.." He breathed heavily with an almost violent rise and fall of his chest, his legs sprawled wide as he was on the couch of his room and you, his beautiful arch-nemesis was skillfully using his cock like it was your personal toy. Satoru didn't feel he was being sucked off for his pleasure, he was being sucked off to be proven of the fact that you were in control here.

He reached his trembling hands to tangle within your locks as you let a thick glob of your spit fall onto his tip with a grin, tantalisingly rubbing it on your glossed lips. "Better than your stupid fist right?" And he moans at that degradation, his eyes marbeling with glassy tears, your pride swelled more than anything.

"Ever seen tits in real life? Or are you that much of a loser to have Inoue Waka as your wallpaper.." You teased further, unbuttoning your blouse and unfastening your bra from the front to spill out your breasts and Satoru's brain simply short circuits the moment the cushiness of your tits gather around his cock and he feels the tightening sting on his abdomen, dripping out loads of his cum onto your tits, painting you like the masterpiece you were with thick ribbons of his ejaculate.

You hum, licking a long strip from his base, swirling your hot tongue around his softening, sensitive frenum as he is limp by the pleasure.

"There's no way you're this good.." He spoke, almost sounding as if something unbelievable happened, almost angry.

"Such a good boy 'Toru.." You giggle in response, kissing his abdomen and he feels pathetically, helplessly in love with you.

Gojo Satoru was game, but you were a roulette.

[gallusrostromegalus]

So, uhh, genuine question.

Do you recommend getting into Bleach, and if so how? Anime, Manga, a little bit of both, secret other thing? Your posts about it (and especially about AEIWAM) have definitely piqued my Interest, but I have pretty much 0 knowledge about the topic and heard very contradictory takes & reviews before, so I wanted to ask for your advice on the topic.

Cheers and have a nice day!

So a couple people have asked me this and I'm going to be as honest and fair about it as possible:

Bleach itself is mid.

...which is why the fan works KICK SO MUCH ASS.

My theory is that the ideal habitat for transformative fan work creators is mediocre series. It has to be good enough to be worth engaging with in the first place, but it's the plot holes and dropped developments and intriguing characters that don't get enough time and shoddy-to-unexplained worldbuilding that make nice little holes for fic authors and fan artists to crawl into and built a home, like sponges growing on a dilapidated subway car sunk into the Hudson river.

So yes. Bleach is mid. More under the cut:

It's also really two series: the manga and the anime. There's more anime than manga because bleach suffers from the late oughts horror known as "the filler arc" where the studio would make shit up while waiting for the author to catch up. Not ideal, but better than the current state of "cancelling a fully written five-season show after two because it wasn't making enough money for the oligarchy" but I digress.

To grade both the manga and anime on the Weeb-Ass-Shit scale:

Weeb: how familiar do you have to be with the tropes of anime/Japanese culture in general to be able to enjoy the series? This is one of the things Bleach does REALLY, REALLY WELL, in that you can go in knowing fuck-all about anime and have a good time, but the more you know, the more fun it is. My favorite thing Kubo does is that if you look up the meaning of the characters used in everyone's names, there is a TON of jokes, foreshadowing, themes etc. baked into every name. A+ work.

Ass: how much gratuitous fan service is there and how annoying is it? So. It's not the worst. But it's really, really obvious that Bleach is written and illustrated by a straight man who is hella into tiddies. As a bisexual, I can appreciate The Tiddy (and tbh, the men in Bleach have pretty great tits too), but there are a lot of humor bits about Kon being a perv/author stand-in, orihime has medically alarming knockers for a teenager and gets groped kind of a lot. There's also a predatory lesbian stereotype character in the early episodes, and some pretty awful transphobic caricature characters. The amount of horny isn't that much for a shonen, but it's pretty gross IMHO.

Shit: how well- made is this series?

Mixed. Both the manga and the anime (esp the recent Thousand Year Blood War arc) have some absolutely gorgeous art, banger character designs, and deeply entertainingly choreographed fights. It is really nice to look at.

Unfortunately, both also suffer really badly from pacing issues that are pretty much entirely the fault of the insane demands the industry puts on the artists. If you've ever read/seen a shonen manga/anime from the late aughts through early teens, you're familiar with this bullshit- fight scenes drawn out to absurd lengths, filler arcs while the animation studio waits for the author to catch up, repeated plot arcs, minimal focus on characterization, The Friendship Speech (TM) etc.

Pacing and repetitiveness are Bleach's main quality issues, but the art is pretty baller and the Japanese voice cast is pretty fucking great IMHO. (I have APD and have to consume shows by subtitles, so the sun is usually more legible for me than the dub).

If you are coming into Bleach from AEIWAM... You're likely to be a bit disappointed. I put a shitload of work into the worldbuilding because Bleach does not, I write almost exclusively slice-of-life character moments rather than big battles, and I have made some pretty fucking radical changes to some of the characters. An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy is an entirely different genre than Bleach, and that's ok, because fic usually is radically different than it's source material. But also be prepared.

TL;DR: Bleach is mid and that's ok! My fic is different than it and that is also ok! I still recommend it with the reservations of : it's prototypical of its time period and contains many of the gross tropes from that era. It is also very much a horror shonen, just to be clear. Fucked up shit happens on screen, mostly cannibalism! Which is great IMHO, but you should probably take a stroll through DoesTheDogDie.com for more specific trigger warnings before beginning.

[celabi]

hm.. dad scummy mouche…hm I’m going to get him pregnant hm.

i feel like, no matter how many years have passed since scaramouche has evolved into a proper man and has some what [not really] outgrew his scummy teenage and early adult years, he still gets a little embarrassed around you. like, no matter how long you’ve been married, or how many times you’ve seen him nude, he can’t help but look away shyly when he catches you staring, or sigh shakily when you compliment him. so, he’s glad that he’s got his little helper to help him express his love to you on the days where he’s feeling just a little embarrassed.

thirty years old. no longer this scrawny teen with pimples and greasy hair, no. he has stubble on his chin, tattoos on his arms, piercings in his ears…and yet he gets nervous around his wife, and bribes his daughter with ice cream, to compliment her for him.

scaramouche hums when he feels a little tug on his pants, and when he turns his head down to see what it is now; he meets the eyes of his little girl, who stares back up at her dad with gleaming cheekiness. he smiles, and wipes the dish soap off his hand and on the fabric of his shirt before bending down and scooping her up into his arms. she beams happily, reaching up to tug on his purple hair. “daddy! mama told me to say to you… ‘thank you’ and that she thinks you’re very um, gor—jus? as well!” her little grubby hands tug on his locks with more force then she probably realises, and he can slowly start to feel a headache coming along from how hard she’s pulling. “she’s right! you are gor—jus daddy!” she swings her feet, twisting and turning the strands of his hair between her little fingers.

“hm, not as gorgeous as mommy, though…” he sighs wistfully, staring blankly at the wall. the little girl in his grasp playfully gags at the look in her fathers eyes. “dad! that’s so gross! don’t you think you love mommy a bit too much…?” her chubby fingers moves to poke at his cheek, which drags him back down to earth.

he shakes his head in slight, “no, mommy likes it.”

“are you sure? mommy probably thinks you’re weird with how much you look at her…”

he frowns, “yeah, okay… that’s enough of that.” and bends down to place her back to the floor, making her huff and puff in disbelief. he sighs, rubbing his temples: “how about instead of poking fun at daddy… you go and tell mommy that I think she looks pretty, and that i’ll make dinner for us tonight.” he shoulders sag, making him chuckle as he lightly pats her head. “aw again? your cooking blows, and mommy is gonna get sick of you if you tell her that all the time…”

he tuts, and shakes his head. “yeah right… she had all of her life to get rid of me, i’m not going anywhere, anytime soon… so suck it.” he teases lightly, flicking her forehead, which has her scowling.

“ugh, dad you stink so much!” she stomps her little feet as she runs off. “this is why mommy always stops to say hi to mr.capitano at school!”

“huh?! she does what now?!”

scaramouche likes to think he’s a good influence on his daughter, but his wife digresses.

scaramouche watches as his daughter pulls you by the hand and towards the front door, where she carelessly flops on her behind and raises her legs up into the air, shoes dangling off her feet. “please tie my shoes mama!”

he sighs, leaning his cheek in his palm. a cozy little home with both of his favourite girls… life is good, he thinks, and mentally pats his past self on the back for having such amazing rizz… [stealing your underwear and chewing your gum had really paid off]. the sounds of tiny feet padding along the floor pulls him out of his thoughts, makinghim look down, where his little girl is beaming back up at him with her arms stretched, waiting for her hug. heof course does, and bends down to pick her up, where her head flops onto his shoulder. “bye papa, see you after school!” so energetic, so early in the morning… scaramouche doesn’t know how she does it. either way, he huffs, and moves his hand up to smooth down her hair, ridding the knots and strays caused by her excitement.

“have a good day, baby… and remember what I told you? if any of those nasty boy teachers smile at mommy when she drops you off… tell them that your daddy kills people.”

“got it, dad!”