Don't Squish The Kitty

theninjakitty @ 2008-12-24T22:03:00

2008-12-25T06:10:44Z

I shouldn't have to say this, BUT:

Everything that I had for Self-Reliance was lost in a computer crash last year. Self-Reliance WILL NOT BE FINISHED. EVER.

Asking me to update will result in kicked kittens.

Stalking this journal will not give you the name of my personal journal/email address/AIM screen name. I left because I do not want to be stalked and/or bothered anymore. I'm sorry, but RL stalking? Is not cool, guys. Remember that.

Have a nice day and

HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS.

theninjakitty @ 2007-11-08T02:48:00

2007-11-07T22:44:47Z

SIGH. Does anyone still watch this journal? I am still alive, PS.

HALP

2007-07-02T21:10:59Z

Okay so I've been busy with work/school and I will get caught up on drabbles LATER I PROMISE---but FIRST---

So I'm on staff for the Creation Station for Kumori-con this year. I was a volunteer last year, and I put together a little fanfiction resource primer. It was done really last-minute, so I was wondering if anyone would have input or general "I wish SOMEONE had told me this when I started writing fanfiction D: D: D:" things that they think I ought to add.

Help from a Practiced Ficbrat:

Kitty’s Fanfiction Toolbox Listing

Various Digging Implements: Oh, now you’ve done it. You’ve started a fic (or are grappling tenaciously with an idea) and everything’s suddenly stopped. You’ve hit bottom. You’re up to your neck in metaphorical dirt with a growing bump on your head from writer’s block, and you haven’t got the slightest clue what you’re supposed to do next. Giving up on fandom forever is sounding like a solid plan.

Stop. Wait. Take a deep breath and then look at what I’ve found to help.

Resources:
http://www.wikipedia.org. Your teachers will tell you never to use Wikipedia as a source for your papers since it’s not “authoritative”, but for fanfiction, Wiki is a resource without compare. If you’re not familiar with it already, Wikipedia is an online encyclopedia compiled by everyone who wants to submit, and checked and double checked by every other user. No matter your fandom niche, you will find every scrap of information about them in Wikipedia---from the complete list of their every physical attack, right down to the date of their first air time. This is the Librarian Otaku’s heaven, and should be abused accordingly.

http://dictionary.reference.com/ We like writers who like words. There is nothing more heartening than someone who exercises a full and varied vocabulary---you can only say “she said” so many times before it starts getting stale.

http://thesaurus.reference.com/ Doubly, we like writers who have more than one way to say “big”. If you don’t own a hardcopy thesaurus yourself, this online equivalent will more than make up for those days when you’re stumped for a fresh word.

http://silvablu.skeeter63.org/HMG/00-Introduction.htm Holy Mother Grammatica.

Who am I? I am Holy Mother Grammatica, dispenser of the rules, advisor to writers seeking guidance. I do not work alone. Among my colleagues are Mr. Exposition and Auntie Continuity.

Make friends with the text here. Rub elbows. Read what the good Mother has to say.

http://littlecalamity.tripod.com/HowTo2.html Ms. Nitpicker’s Guide to Fanfiction, also known as: HOW TO WRITE MARGINABLY READABLE FANFICTION. Spot on and extensive, this how-to can work as a great companion to the slightly less ridiculous list and setup given above, compliments of Holy Mother Grammatica. Ms. Nitpicker has a great deal more snark to her words, but the advice dished out on everything from POV to purple prose is just as sound.

http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Academy/8097/cascadehospital/ and http://www.geocities.com/aemarshall99/medlinks.html are excellent resources for writing anything to do with medicine. Be it a believable and sweaty-palmed chapter in the ER or a simple fainting scene, these two websites offer medical know-how to lend a touch of believability to your writing. We may not be real doctors, but we can play them in fandom.

http://www.peevish.co.uk/slang/ Got a British character? Try the British Slang Dictionary on for size.

http://www.livejournal.com. Livejournal is far, far more than just a bunch of people ranting about their emotastic lives :). The fandom communities LJ has to offer is priceless for any writer:
Betas
Personal writing archives
Challenge Communities:
http://community.livejournal.com/150_comms/ is a great place to start if you’re looking for a themed challenge community. Though it isn’t exhaustive, I feel that this listing is a great place to start your search for a set of spark-word theme sets---plus a posting space and an automatic audience to boot.

http://www.google.com. No, actually, I’m serious. Google is endlessly useful in everything, especially fanfiction. Never forget that it’s always available to wade through piles of information in your stead!

HIGH-TRAFFIC MULTIFANDOM PLACES TO POST (a.k.a., two starting points):
http://www.fanfiction.net. FF.net is the largest and most notable fanfiction publishing site, easily manageable and very public. This has both its advantages and its disadvantages: if you’re looking for instant approval and a wide range of viewers, FF.net is the place to be. On the other hand, it feels that it is largely populated with what I affectionately dub “fanpoodles”. For newbies and “veterans” alike, FF.net is the main place to post fanfiction.
Pros: Huge site with innumerable fandoms and languages represented. Clear guidelines for posting and reviewing etiquette. Possibly has the highest traffic of the fanfiction archives I’ve seen and used.
Cons: Lemons, adult content, songfics, and fandom pieces built under the works of several authors---Anne Rice being one prime example---are prohibited, and the abuse-reporting system is scarily efficient.

http://www.adultfanfiction.net. I don’t think this one needs much of a blurb, other than what I feel are perfectly necessary disclaimers. The adult in the address actually means adult. Adult content. Don’t go near there if you’re underage, savvy? Plus, it’s not as easy to post there as FF.net, and managing accounts is a pain and a half. Unless you’re particularly fond of AFF.net, posting lemon material, (and overage), I would suggest keeping to FF.net, purely due to the site’s layout and the traffic you’ll receive.
Pros: large site, anything goes. You cannot feasibly cook up anything, content-wise, that would get you kicked off of AFF.net (to my knowledge!).
Cons: All formatting for italics and such must be done with HTML by hand or it will not be preserved. Additionally, the search engine isn’t as streamlined as FF.net’s.

THOUGHTS/IDEAS? This went over really well last year---all of the copies I printed out disappeared magically :D

pimp

2007-06-13T17:10:09Z

OKAY. So I will definitely get to those drabbles ASAP after my final tomorrow, but, in the meantime, I am here to pimp.

So apparently, konoha_rebirth is in need of a Temari. This RP is, by far, the best RP I've ever played in. AU future!canon, this RP chronicles the adventures of Konoha, Suna, and Oto after Oto comes in and stomps on Konoha---led, of course, by Sasuke himself. Naruto is the Rokudaime, Sasuke is the Otokage, there is some strange religious group and the Akatsuki and plot and romance and shiny. I play Kankurou, Chouji, and Konohamaru. If you're interested, please drop in an application ♥.

PLZ & THANK YOU.

drabble requests + perviness

2007-06-12T18:11:44Z

I need to stop lurking at Icha Icha Oekaki before Sasuke/Snake becomes an OTP.

I lurk like a mad lurking thing, sometimes. Hurhurhur.

Fuck. I need a break from studying, so first five comments with drabble requests that don't make me puke get a drabble. If I owe you a drabble from a while back that you're super gung-ho about, remind me.

1) Riku being uncool for lazulisong
2) Chouji and Ino for kilalas_place
3) PotC, Penguins? for p_drake
4) Shikamaru getting caught doing something embarrassing? for sunaneko
5) Sai/Sakura for terrykun
5 NejiHina for singmetechno
5) Prince Inconsiderate and the beach for sesshiyuki
5) Ino beating Shikamaru at something for kinomi_fics

~~Stfu.~~

PS, WHILE I'M THINKING ABOUT IT---who is planning on attending Kumoricon this year? I'm on staff this time around, as well as the Lord of the Copics :D.

oh hi fandom

2007-06-06T15:57:04Z

Create your own visitor map!

Because I'm curious.

ALSO:

Someone reading this wants to write Chouji/Temari or Chouji/Temari/Ino and make it work. YOU DO. YOU KNOW YOU DO. DEEP IN YOUR HEART. C'MON, PIMP!CHOUJI.

If you don't do it, I will. So plz to be giving me drabble prompts for either ChoTema, ChoTemaIno, ChoShika, or ChoShikaIno. I've missed writing my Choubear, but no ideas have been coming. PROMPTS PLZ.

While we're at it, have some drabbles.

Ino straddles his hips, stretching over him like a cat, belly to belly. Kankurou’s hands are tied to the headboard with the defunct band from her old hitai-ate and a knot he can’t get out just by jerking his wrists; he glares at her stormily, and she can feel the discomfort roll off him, his pulse quick and fast at the hollow of his throat. Rubbing a little against him---he’s still stiff under the slack fabric of his black pants, despite his silent anxiety at being captured---she kisses the side of his neck, working down with licks and nips as he groans. The headboard hits the wall with a solid thump as he strains against the knots again, the muscles standing out in his shoulders and arms. She bites his bicep and he squirms unsuccessfully beneath her, arching his back.

Ino takes the candle from where she’d left it on the bedside table, cupping the stocky wax base in one palm and watching as his dark eyes follow the flame warily. His heart thunders beneath her free hand, and it feels so good, controlling him, Ino can’t help but feel powerful. She can feel every muscle in his abdomen tighten and quiver, hard between her thighs.
She trickles a few round, hot drops of wax just above his navel and he bucks, hissing that he will fucking cream himself if she doesn’t stop it. Ino grins, picking off the hardening wax with her fingernails.

This would be the last time Kankurou tried anything as trite as a candlelit dinner.

Kankurou wouldn’t call it a friendship solely because he couldn’t identify it as such---not being a very friendly person in general and having spent most of his childhood punching faces in instead of playing nice with the other Suna children, he didn’t have much experience in this whole friendship thing. He understood rivalries, he understood relationships, but friendships were a weird amalgamation of the two that just didn’t mesh in Kankurou’s brain. Sure, he could love a lover and care for a sibling, but put the time and energy into being chummy with someone he wasn’t related to/morally obliged to like/currently fucking? It was a weird ground, and it just figured that it’d be Sai who became his first friend.

The other jounin annoyed him, exasperated him, creeped him out---and put up with his bullshit and bickering word for word and curse for curse. Not many people had a stiff enough constitution to withstand his verbal abuse and posturing, but Sai matched him in a weird way.

They were both a little strange, but this made their bar banter interesting.

“Bad day,” Kankurou grunted under his breath as he settled himself down at the bar, letting his heavy rucksack full of puppet scrolls hit the floor by his stool with a solid thump. Sai blinked at him passively, passing him a bottle of sake to work on. “I fuckin’ swear, I didn’t know movin’ villages would be this frustratin’. What th’ hell’s that Falcon guy’s problem? Jeeeeesus, someone’s mommy didn’t love him growin’ up, lemme tell you. ---Oi, Gigglefuck, did you get those sketches finished?”

Sai’s dark eyebrows arched, and he sipped ever-so-delicately at his cup of sake. “Possibly. Did you finish the chapter we discussed earlier, Fagface?”

Kankurou snorted, fishing a dog-eared manuscript out of his bag and waving it. “Forty-eight pages of groans, moans, throbbin’ members an’ heaving breasts.”

They were both a little strange, but they did make a good collaboration team.

AND, done for the Naruto Kink Meme (although some of the pairings I ended up writing made me go LOLWHUT):

Neji/Hinata bondage, with voyeur!Hanabi

Temari/Sakura, hair pulling and girl bitchery

LeeNejiTenten, voyeurism

Karin/Lee, dork fetish and fluster

Kankurou/Ino/Temari, Kankurou walking in on the two

Kankurou/Neji, mission crossdressing

Kankurou/Temari, multiple orgasms, prolonged sex

THIS MAKES ME LOOK MORE PRODUCTIVE THAN I REALLY AM O:

Drabbledump

2007-05-17T15:57:54Z

Can't. Stop. Writing. Drabbles. OHGOD.

Ino knew the dryness of the desert, but she didn’t know drought. She thought she knew what intolerable dryness was, what heat felt like that made the grass brittle and hard as horsehair, but she could see the difference between a mere lack of water and a drought mapped out in Kankurou’s body.

It’d been two months since one of Suna’s major rivers had turned to dust, three months since the last heavy rainfall, and four months since the last time Ino had seen him. His entire body spoke of drought. Ino kissed him and winced at how chapped his lips were, tough and dry to the point of cracking, tiny striations of blood lining each of their kisses. Her fingers trailed down tanned skin so dark and dry as to feel strangely soft, like some great sun god had scrubbed the blemishes out of his hide. This same sun god had left kisses, clusters of little freckles, and had brought the laugh-wrinkles and frown wrinkles into high relief. His hands and feet cracked until they bled.

Drought aged everyone, he explained as Ino wrapped his hands in bandages and salve and the first soft patters of rain fell on the roof. He dragged her out of bed to go stand in the rain, the life and strength pumping back into him as the shy drizzle turned into a storm, heat and cold meeting with a growl of thunder. The rain fell in dark curtains, pounding on tin roofs and clay houses, and within seconds they were both soaked.

Kankurou had lost weight, Ino realized as he lifted his arms above his head and howled up at the rain. His ribs showed with each gasping laugh, all that reddish-blond sunbleached hair hanging down into his eyes.

He was so like the desert, tied inherently to the waxing and waning of the harsh lifestyle, that Ino was somewhat afraid that this stupid tumbleweed of a man would wither up and move on if she didn’t keep bringing the rain with her. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, the rainwater creating a slick connection between their hot, bare skin, and listened to him laugh out the end out the drought.

For being such an accomplished puppeteer, Kankurou could be a bit clumsy when angry. Things got to his head far too easily; he was a hugely emotional person, and when they fought he carried the anger in a little hole in his chest until it eventually hurt him. This fight was a big one, one rife with slamming doors and screaming and the south wall of Ino’s bedroom definitely had some new punctures and kunai-holes in it, but it’d simmered down into something quiet and subversively horrible. Usually, their fights were loud and short, fire-crackers set off in the living room, but this one had just fizzled low, banked coals as Ino and Kankurou skirted each other and fumed at how wrong the other was.

It was Kankurou’s fault, but he’d had the right intentions. This was the perfect mix for failure. Ino hadn’t known anything was up, had missed the papers that had passed hands, the deals that had been made, until Kankurou’s dogtags winked at her. He’d been brushing his teeth, hunched over the sink with his back turned to her, bright new dogtags turned to get out of his way, dangling between his shoulderblades.

His old dogtags had been dull, scratched and worn from hanging under his clothes since age twelve.

His new dogtags, pressed with the stamp of Konoha’s seal, were shiny as newly minted coins, dazzling and begging to be noticed. When she realized what he’d done---and why---the fight had erupted.

Two days later, they were still fighting, and that knot of anger in Kankurou’s chest felt like it weighed tons, and he could hardly see straight. Had he been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have dropped the glass, and if he hadn’t dropped the glass and attempted to roughly gather the pieces, he wouldn’t have cut himself.

Stupid goddamn oaf was lucky he hadn’t cut off his precious fingers, Ino raged inwardly, sizing him up as he quietly cursed and licked at the blood like some pathetic little dog. They stood at opposite ends of the kitchen, the broken glass between them, and waited for the other to say something, to move, to finally apologize.

It didn’t happen.

Kankurou sucked hard on the side of his hand, the uneven look in his eyes just as brittle and broken-up as the glass on the floor. Ino felt the worry lodge and she took a mental step back, seeing one large and ungainly child trying hard to do right standing in the place of that bullheaded foreign man who almost seemed to try to fuck up, sometimes. It suddenly dawned on her that he was sorry, that he’d been serious, that he was fucking sincere, that he wanted to be with her, and her lower-lip wobbled.

“You---you stupid…come here. I’ll heal it up.”

Sometimes, love was an exercise in masochism and pain, but they both needed it.

Moegi’s hair was slick and almost black, streaming cold water as she flung herself out of the dark lake and back to the rock she had carefully folded her clothes on. Konohamaru followed her out, shaking out his hair like a sopping dog. He took his time finding his clothes, unashamed as ever. After they’d dressed again and the high was starting to wind down into comfortable coolness and stifled giggles, Konohamaru stamped out a nest for them in the long grass. Moegi wrung out her hair, loudly bemoaning the cold and her sniffles and how Konohamaru was so mean to drag her out here in the middle of the night and what was it that was in that smoke, anyway?

Chuckling, he dragged her into his grass nest and peppered her cold, damp skin with kisses. Moegi shrieked, her voice hanging shrill on the night air, but it fell again to desperate, gasping giggles as he found her hands and his lips whispered nonsense against her palms.

“Poppies for sleep,” Konohamaru grinned, his fingers tangling in her mess of gingery hair. Even if he was talking about laudanum and the easiest way to remember the mixture: a tincture of alcohol and opium and sugar, used for sedation and pain relief, he was thinking about the sweet red of Moegi’s hair. She pouted whenever he mentioned her hair or freckles, but that was just her own insecurities speaking.

“Huh?” Moegi yawned, draping an arm over Konohamaru’s warm side. She could feel his warm breath ruffle her damp bangs, smoky from the ganja. Her legs tangled with his in their little summer nest, and she sighed contentedly.

“Nothin’,” he murmured, yawning reflexively with her.

These were the kinds of nights they’d look back on fondly when they grew up.

Being a father was the scariest thing in the world. Kankurou had successfully lived through poisoning, political plots, working in recon, and marriage to Ino, and he would have thought that these kinds of things would ready him for such a task as reproducing. Besides, he’d fooled himself into thinking, Ino did all the real hard work. She was the one that had to tote around a belly full of growing, kicking baby for nine months and then push out the squirming little bundle of barely-human; he’d just had to deal with her monumental mood swings and the progressively more aggressive threats to his manhood.

But then Inori was born, and Kankurou had faced the realization that he loved him, despite the fact that he smelled and looked more like some kind of cross between a rat and a tomato. He loved Inori horribly and obsessively and the baby hadn’t done anything to deserve it other than cry in his arms and have his goddamn nose. If someone had told him either he lived or the baby, he would have given his life for his son right then and there. Inori was his little blue-eyed rat-tomato, and he loved him so much it had the potential to be destructive.

Nobody had told him that being a father would be anything like this. At least everyone else was too concerned with cooing over the exhausted mother to notice the big scary jounin crying soundlessly over his newborn son, too full of fear and love and everything else to know which way was up anymore.

Inori was sick and Ino was on a mission, so Kankurou hadn’t slept for two days. It wasn’t that his three-year-old son was dying or anything, or even that it was anything more voracious than the common flu, but he was feverish and Kankurou worried. Inori was a tiny little thing still, mostly made up of moppish blond hair and entirely too large blue eyes, and he was just too tiny to be so hot. The fever had been low at first but it’d escalated through the afternoon, peaking after midnight and not breaking until the wee hours of the morning.

Kankurou was no medic, so his cures consisted of worrying, calling Sakura every couple of hours---and usually arguing with her as she had to reassure him AGAIN that Inori would be fine, and yes, it’s two am you jackass---and a lot of frozen juice pops. He sat on the floor by Inori’s bed, flipping through picture books and mission scrolls as the little boy slept, and supplying juice pops and crayons when he was awake.

Taking care of sick babies was serious business. He treated it as he would a high-ranking mission, not realizing that sickness was natural and it would abate with time and patience. Kankurou had never really been allowed around children before he’d had one of his own, so he had no point of reference at all. Besides, this was HIS son---he had every reason to worry and expounded on them all.

Despite his best intentions, he fell asleep on the third day, propped up against the side of the bed with Where’s ANBU? open in his lap. Inori woke up to his daddy’s snores, round-eyed and curious. He sighed---and really, it was one of Ino’s dramatic sighs, monkey-see monkey-do---and crawled out of bed, sliding into his father’s comfortable lap. Thumb jammed firmly in his little mouth and blanket tucked in around him, he sniffled a little before falling back asleep.

Ino could hardly contain her awww reflex when she found them that way, a very tired and irritated Sakura leaning over her shoulder.

lawl pairing warz

2007-05-10T20:43:53Z

It seems that this journal is only good for fandom memes anymore. :D

STOLEN FROM lazulisong~!

ask me a question about a fandom, pairing or ship, I will rant incoherently!

-- and smack the jesus out of you if more than three of you ask about the same thing.

or rather:

1. Comment in this post with a pairing, a character, or a threesome.

2. I shall write you back a paragraph explaining what I think about it (good, bad, indifferent) and why.

3. Let's discuss / argue / CAPSLOCK at each other about it! I only ask that you don't get insulted, angry, mean, or stupid.

HURRHURR

2007-05-07T03:01:44Z

This is Keryn hijacking Kitty's LJ :D It's actually to ad for 80s_no_jutsu but I could also be mean and CUT PEOPLE FROM HER F-LIST... UNLESS I GET BRIBES. I TAKE COOKIES, CASH, AND MAKEOUTS.

♥

FAQ

:D

memes make the world go round...or something like that

2007-04-19T04:04:52Z

Ask my characters anything! Continued until I get bored.

Characters I'm playing now:

short_strings: Kankurou of Rebirth
rathersneaky: Konohamaru of Rebirth
autumnal_road: Chouji of Rebirth
pink_putta: Sakura of SWC
currry_king: Chouji of SWC
swear_i_tripped: Kankurou at SWC
drowsy_deer: Shikamaru at No_Air
melon_and_rime: Hitsugaya at No_Air

And if you remember any of my old ones and want to chat with them, tag and specify :D

five drabbles

2007-04-03T15:45:20Z

Some request drabbles I did for people a while back :D

His eyes have been on her the entire meeting, hot as a fanned ember and so silent, Ino can’t breathe properly for fear that someone will hear the raggedness and raise an eyebrow. She burrows her gaze into the discussion outline notes, trying to clutch to the type in an effort to ignore his presence. Almost beyond her control, she keeps glancing up through her lashes, the drone of Baki’s oration on Suna-Konoha affairs sounding tinny and far away.

Kankurou’s all the way across the room, slouched in a chair and suddenly looking like a stranger with his paint covering his expression and his cap covering his clay-red hair. Ino doesn’t know why it feels odd to see him covered again---that’s the only face she’d seen for the first decade of their interaction, wasn’t it?---but it makes her feel like there’s something oily, rubbery, slick squirming around inside her. Her mouth is dry five minutes into the meeting; Naruto is tapping a pencil and staring at the clock as Baki and Neji discuss something about a follow-up meeting and the Sand’s stay in the Leaf village. Ino takes tiny, shaky sips off of her glass of water.

Her hands writhe in her lap like long-legged spiders crawling over each other, graceful, tangoing against the dark violet fabric like they wanted to crawl up the slit in the skirt and hide from the sun. She takes steady, ladylike sips of water but it doesn’t cut the cottonmouth; Kankurou’s eyes, green shadowed by purple, bore into her with practiced ease.

She knows he knows exactly what he’s doing. She’s a T&I expect, for chrissakes. Ino knows what it means to tease and take, to string along and make the victim beg.

It’s only been two months since she’s seen him, but the lazy, apathetic way he tugs around pencils with chakra strings, familiar fingers fast and dancing, makes her stomach clench and that oily feeling spread until her face catches fire and it becomes a fight for composure. He has to feel it too, doesn’t he? Isn’t he supposed to be the one plagued with a notorious lack of self control?

He catches her gaze and smirks. Fucker, she thinks waspishly, crossing and uncrossing her legs twice.

After seemingly two centuries of careful sips and awkward squirming, there’s a break. Kankurou stretches, all at once long and catlike despite his size, and he yawns negligently.

She hates him so much, she can hardly breathe. Ino follows him down the hall and, just as soon as they turn a corner, she plows into him full-force and kisses him hard enough to make her beg into a demand. She angles their entwining bodies towards shoving him into a supply closet without so much as a “hello, how are you?”. His head hits the back wall with an audible thump; she kicks aside empty buckets and brooms and settles herself in with one thigh pressed between his slightly spread legs. Kankurou groans, and she can feel the hot pulse of his stiff cock through the loose fabric of his pants. That answers that question---he’d been just as hot and bothered in the meeting room as she was, despite all appearances.

“Blue balls,” he grunts as Ino puts pressure in and up, smirking at the pathetic little wheeze of need he makes. “Fuckin’ feel like gettin’ punched in th’ balls…from th’ inside. Goddamn cocktease…”

Ino takes his hand and licks his palm---his fingers twitch and tremble when she gets to them, so horribly sensitive that they nearly writhe with the feeling of his tongue lathing from heel to fingertips---and then says, “Wipe your face off before you kiss me, asshole.” He scrubs his face roughly with his moistened hand and sleeve and then pushes back against her until she’s the one pinned, the rumble of his laughter rolling against her neck and cheek like soft smoke.

“We’ve got fifteen minutes, maybe,” Kankurou says, sliding one rough-palmed hand up her skirt along the outside of her thigh. Her dainty fingers, callused from holding a kunai for the past decade, pop open his fly and run up his straining erection once; just once, because he’s oversensitive from delayed satisfaction and that one light touch makes him shudder and buck unselfconsciously. “It’s gonna be a quickie.”

He pushes her skirt up and her underwear down, obviously wanting to undress her entirely and have his visual fill of her heaving ribcage, dusky-pink nipples, and sharp clavicle, but they knew they wouldn’t have the time. He’s aching and she’s already slick, her panties sticky as he tugs them down. She hisses a curse in his ear, hoarse as he nudges himself into her. Ino holds him in place with her legs twisting around his sides, one hand fisted in his hair to the point that it would’ve been painful had he been feeling much of anything aside from her slick little heat wrapping around his head and pulling him in deeper.

Kankurou’s first thrusts are too quick at first, a rabbit-like push-tug that Ino would have screeched at had it not been him and had he not been scratching an itch that’d driven her mad over the past two months. He’s built differently from any other man she’s fucked---he’s bigger, physically stronger, rough-hewn and foreign in every way she can count. He still has boy-hips and freckles under that stupid purple paint, but he’s so very much a man at the same time. As a boy he moans through each new experience she pushes him through, but as a man he has the power to consume her, take her, hands locked over her head as he teases her ruthlessly.

Ino’s knees dig into his sides, white and pale against his chestnut-dark skin. She rocks with his thrusts, her breathing hot and fluttering with his, heartbeat throbbing throughout her entire body. He groans something that sounds like her name and Ino’s nails dig into his back, muscles sliding jerkily beneath his skin with his movements. They’re going to smell like each other when they walk back in, marked by teeth and scent and scratches like a pair of wild animals.

She would chew up and spit out lesser men, wringing them dry and sore. Kankurou keeps coming back for more, no matter how many stitches or how raw he gets. Ino loves him for that, even if she will never call it love nor would she ever tell him that in so many words. She spasms around him as she crests closer to orgasm, making him grind out a moan that sounds near-painful.

It wasn’t until later, after straightening themselves and calming to the point of decency, that they realize that the air-vent in the janitor’s closet connects to the conference room, and their interlude has been broadcasted to the entire group of Sand and Leaf emissaries.

Even Kankurou has enough shame to flush a bit under his re-done paint.

Suigetsu smirked with a mouthful of razor-blade teeth, cruel in his amusement. His master was staring at himself in the mirror, his pale face washed with a hot red flush that was either shame or anger. Suigetsu could only see his back, but that was more than enough: black hose clung to the legs taijutsu had formed, clipped with garters and disappearing under the ruffled mess of lace edgings and soft charcoal-gray fabric that made up his skirt. The new minion had helped his master lace up his tight corset, his sword-worked fingers nimbly tugging Sasuke breathless and ending each row with a neat bow. There was no hiding the broadness of the teenager’s shoulders or the muscles built through his arms, so the loose sleeves and shawl draped over him completed the effect from behind.

The shark-boy just couldn’t help himself. Bubbling with mirth, he tapped his chin in false thought, his expression impish. “So, Sasuke-sama---“

“It’s a disguise. Shut the fuck up if you want to survive the trip to the Fire Country,” the Uchiha growled, his khol-lined eyes narrowing as the Sharingan spun to life. “And hand me the lip gloss.”

Even though Ino took up the smallest portion of their bed, it always felt hugely empty without her. The shadows on Shikamaru’s side of the bed seemed longer, melancholic, even if they weren’t being intrinsically controlled by the shadow-user, and Chouji usually slept on his side, facing the wall, closed off to conversation because he honestly didn’t know what to say without Ino there to start things off. Ino’s missing curves were a hole between them, leaving them quiet and sedate, back-to-back and lost in their own thoughts.

Shikamaru didn’t like it. He hated the thought that Ino had turned into some kind of go-between, some kind of spark, and that without her their chemistry fell flat as old soda. They’d been together before the addition of Ino between the sheets; they still had that to fall back on, didn’t they? Or had it become…stale somehow, boring. Shikamaru frowned at the wall, freeing his hands from beneath the covers and quickly forming seals. He was surprised he could remember them all; he’d only used the jutsu a handful of times, and usually at Ino’s impish command. The puff of smoke and soft popping noise made Chouji blink and roll over, only to find himself being bored through by one of Shika-chan’s hard, dark glares.

“We don’t need Ino to push us into having sex,” Shika said flatly, her growls somehow more melodic when pushed into that different octave. She sat up in bed, the covers sliding down her waist to expose her small breasts and dusky nipples---Chouji felt a flash of shame for her, as shy about the female body as he was. Shika crossed her long legs and glared Chouji down, frowning at his timidity. “Is it that you don’t care for male sex as much anymore? If that’s the case, I can be female just as easily. I just---“ and she bit her lip, her fuller lips, a hank of black hair falling down into her eyes; Chouji sat up and brushed it away by impulse, rough fingers against her mouth and cheek.

“You just what, Shikamaru?”

“Never mind that. I want to try something different. Maybe we can surprise the wench when she comes home.”

Shika pushed into Chouji, a rare open-mouthed kiss sealing in any protest the big Akimichi might’ve made. She ground herself into him, proving she could be just as forceful as Ino if that’s what he wanted. Chouji balked initially, trying to find somewhere to touch Shika to push her away that didn’t include brushing her chest, but the girl would have none of that. A plan was forming in her head, and there was nothing Chouji could do to dissuade her from its brilliance.

She was a genius, after all.

“You too,” she panted, a smirk flitting over her features. “Why not fulfill our own supposed lesbian fantasy?

He colored, spluttering. “B-but I don’t have a---“

“Work with me, Chouji. You know the jutsu. Come on.”

It wasn’t so different, really. Long hair was still long hair, still coarse and prone to tangling; Chou’s stomach was still rounded and soft, Shika’s still flat and concave; toes and fingers served the very same functions. The differences lay in the feel---instead of the sharp, white heat of male arousal, the sensation tingled through their entire bodies, shifting like warm sand to pool wherever their mouths and fingers found purchase. It was one thing to slide two fingers inside Ino and hear the satisfying little sounds she made, but to be making those sounds yourself, breathless whimpers spilling out between soft pants, was something entirely different, Chou decided.

With her back arched and her breasts hard with arousal, Shika was nothing but smoothed edges and lean muscles, long as an ermine. Chou was fascinated by the pulse at her throat, her heaving chest, and flat, tight belly. Her thighs hugged Chou’s sides, firm muscles tensed and trembling as she brought her closer to orgasm.

No, it really wasn’t as different as it should have been, and that familiarity left them snuggled together that night, sticky limbs entwined, once again confident in the strength of their two-thirds.

The summer sun brought out freckles and laziness in them both. Tayuya had made friends with a guy who sold pot---Jiro was smart enough not to ask what kind of friend, and how---so they spread out on his unmade bed under the hot striated bands of sunlight, watching the pale blue smoke rise to the ceiling with their choked, rare laughter. Tayuya’s hair spread out under her like a mess of red brambles seen underwater, curls and tangles fanning out and over Jiroubou’s arm; she was comfortably sedated, half-singing something covered by Janis Joplin.

“…Freedom's just another word for nothin' left to do…Nothin' ain't worth nothin' but it's free…”

Tayuya’s low, rough voice spiraled up to weave among the lazy loops of smoke, broken and thick. Her fingers danced over Jiroubou’s shoulders, tracing shapes out of his freckles with her nails.

“…feelin' good was good enough for me…” She crooned into his neck, the tongues of fire simmering down to blue smoke and sunlight, the freckles across the bridge of her nose standing out on her pale skin. Her summer freckles peppered down her back and chest, a soft V between her small, sweaty breasts.

“Then somewhere near Salinas, Lord, I let her slip away, lookin' for that home I hope she finds…and I'd trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday, holding Bobby's body close to mine…”

Jiroubou wondered who she sang for when she was high. Her hazed-over dark eyes weren’t seeing him, that was for damn sure sure.

It was Sunday, so there was really nothing interesting on television. This didn’t stop Jiroubou from channel-surfing, of course, flipping through show after information after soul-searching special with breakneck speed. Chouji tried to ignore him as best he could and continue sleeping, but the bigger boy was more or less lying on top of him, draped across the comfortable rise of his plush stomach as he growled over the lack of programming and the fact that not all of society was stuck in church. Some of society stayed at home on Sundays and wanted to watch something other than Smurfs re-runs. Jiroubou was heavy, but he was warm and for Chouji, skin-on-skin contact was almost always comforting.

“I’m bored.”

Jiroubou’s thick mane of orangey hair tickled his bare chest and face; he tried pushing it away, but that turned into playing with the coarse ends, which degraded further into petting until Jiro smacked his hand away with a grunt for him to stop being such a girly little shit---ironic, since he’d been the one to initiate this weird form of Sunday-morning snuggling. Chouji yawned, wiping the last grains of sleep-sand from the corners of his eyes, and Jiroubou took this moment of weakness to attack.

Snuggling never lasted very long before morphing into wrestling at the whims of Jiro’s mood.

LURKER DAY

2007-03-02T22:07:50Z

OKAY. If you lurk here, come out and say hi. Introduce yourself. I'll give you a cookie :D; I think it's more than obvious I don't bite.

Ilu socchan, and I do read your posts XD.

nipplenipplenipplenipple

2007-02-14T19:06:20Z

Because it's Valentine's Day, I like porn, and I like InoShikaChou---Valentine-themed InoShikaChou porn.

Happy Valentine's Day, brats ♥.

I <3 the bad porny background. ~~And Ino's boob.~~

BATTLE TIEMZ

2007-02-04T05:51:14Z

ICON BATTLE.

AND GO.

RADIO?

2007-02-03T01:38:44Z

SO. Anyone who listens to KBVR, I'm going to be on the radio tonight.

sdfldkjfs

I don't even know what the DJ wants me to say.

Still. Listen in if you're around.

It will be the sound of me failing.

Edit: The website has a live streaming option, so I guess ANYONE can listen if they're really that bored.

will strip 4 fewd

2007-02-02T08:03:14Z

Today, it was foreseen by the Gods of Food that I would be frustrated.

Example one: Kitty sleeps in. Kitty runs to first class. Kitty does not eat breakfast D:. BUT OH! Ten minute break between morning class! Run, Kitty, run! Kitty acquires one vanilla Frappuccino.

Kitty opens the bottle, pleased at her purchase, only to find the shit expired and crusty.

Kitty sits through next class despondent, in woe over her ruined drink. After class, she goes back to the store to get a refund.

Kitty: My frappuccino is expired D: D: D:
Lady in Charge: They can do that?
Kitty: *points morosely to label* D:! IT IS CRUSTY AND HAS STRANGE CHALKY FLOATIES, YOU BLIND AND OBVIOUSLY CHALLENGED WOMAN. GIVE ME A NEW DRINK KTHX. I SPENT MONIES ON THIS.

...

The second drink was spoiled, too, but I was too grumpy at this point to demand another refund.

Example two: Kitty is hungry for dinner. Kitty stumbles into the cafeteria grill---not literally, you moron---and orders a grilled cheese sandwich. Disgruntled Student Worker-chan takes Kitty's written order (One grilled cheese, two slices of cheddar and one slice of pepperjack) and glares at the grill for a while. Fifteen minutes later, she shoves the sandwich into a plastic carton and Kitty snatches it up hungrily.

FOOLISHLY, Kitty trots away and pays for her food, not checking to see if Disgruntled Student Worker-chan decided to actually read her order.

Disgruntled Student Worker-chan put American cheese on Kitty's sandwich.

Kitty does not like plastic cheese.

Kitty cried many an emo tear.

...

At least they gave me chips.

When I'm hungry, I seem to post about nothing but food. Waugh. That only makes me hungrier ;_;.

IN OTHER NEWS, I wish I knew how to knit. I want an orange scarf. Three people have tried teaching me to knit and/or crochet, but I have failed each time. AT LEAST I CAN COOK. ~~oh shit food again foooooooood must stop thinking about food~~.

Mythology test tomorrow. Tyche help me ♥.

I wonder what flamingos taste like. Was that a Grecian or Roman tradition? I think it was the Romans. ~~ineedfoodbad.~~

A VERY SERIOUS POLL

2007-01-31T09:13:24Z

View Poll: A VERY SERIOUS POLL

BREAKING NEWS

2007-01-29T08:29:24Z

Wow, I think I've snapped.

I have stopped caring about shit. If you don't like me, that's your prerogative. You don't have to. I will be as nice as humanly possible to everyone I come in contact with, and if I somehow piss you off and can't make amends, I'm sorry. I'm not going to beat myself up about it any longer.

Wow.

So basically, I've stopped trying to please everyone. I've always worried so much about not stepping on toes and making sure I'm the nicest person possible for everyone to come to and yes, come cry on my shoulderrrrrr, but yeah. You've broken me! Stellar job!

The only people who matter to me know who they are, and why I love them. I would list every one of you, but I could never put it in order or write up enough gushing to do you all justice. You're special to me in so many ways, and yes, I will throw myself headlong into Vicious Mother Kitty Mode if anything happens to any of you. I...will choke some bitches on your collective behalves.

NOW EXCUSE ME, I WANT MY WELL-DESERVED THREE HOURS OF SLEEP.

Comments are screened; speak your mind ♥

ZOMBIE JESUS IS GONNA GET JAMIE

2007-01-27T05:12:13Z

I am the master of puns. Bow, bitches.

owai: omg some weird sounds are going on
sesshiyuki: ??
owai: IT SOUNDS LIKE DRILLING
owai: or chainsawing
singmetechno: ......
sesshiyuki: maybe they are fixing wiring
singmetechno: lock the door.
owai: *runs to lock door*
theninjakitty: OMFG
singmetechno: HE'S AT THE WINDOW.
theninjakitty: IT'S A MONSTER.
sesshiyuki: ....
singmetechno: HE'S PEEKING IN.
owai: BRB HIDING IN BATHROOM.
singmetechno: OMG IT'S ZOMBIE JESUS.
theninjakitty: HE HAS A DRILL FOR ONE HAND AND A CHAIN SAW FOR THE OTHER
singmetechno: WATCH OUT.
singmetechno: JESUS IS MULTI-FUNCTIONAL!!!!
sesshiyuki: And FOR THE LOVE GOD, DON'T BE WEARING LINGERIE
sesshiyuki: IT MEANS SURE DEATH
theninjakitty: HE MIGHT TRY TO SAVE YOUR SOUL. OR BUILD YOU A DESK.
theninjakitty: EITHER WAY, YOU'LL BE SCREWED.
sesshiyuki: .... Kitty, that is the best quote ever

AsuKakaKure cosnippet

2007-01-19T20:39:05Z

cureless is so productive when she's at work >:3. We decided to do a round-robin-type drabble on her AsuKakaKure AUniverse---it turned out rather well, actually.

Expect more of these in the future, for this is also antiwank in nature ♥.

She moaned, arching her head back, closing her eyes as waves of bliss washed over her. She had never felt anything quite like this before, not with any man or woman. As her lover grasped her hips to lift her up she caught a glimpse of his manhood, sw ...

Shift+F7. Kakashi pulls up his thesaurus, types in the word in question, scans quickly over the list of options that pop up. Engorged, he thinks to himself, That's the one. Quickly he backspaces twice. Keys rattle as he continues to type.

"Caramel macchiato!" yells one of the baristas, and Kakashi stands, brushing silvery hair out from in front of his eyes.

He makes his way over to the counter, smiling briefly at the boy - college age, probably an undergraduate working for pocket change - and then he sees her.

Her, again. The woman with the fabulous chest.

Kakashi makes eye contact, gives her a gentle smile. "Hi," he ventures.

"Hi," she offers back, not timid or small but simply negligent. Her fingers are drumming some kind of non-tune on the edge of the counter, impatient. Kakashi thinks about trying to nudge in some kind of deep intellectual conversation with her, but the impulse dies in his throat. She doesn't make any attempt to launch into conversation herself, and he belatedly realizes that this is probably not her style at all.

Kakashi knows this because he is a writer, and he can see a stereotype from ten feet away. This woman's the bad girl, and he's been watching her every day over the smooth edge of his laptop screen, his fingers slowing their frenetic tumble of words as she walks by, orders something, waits and taps. He's noticed that his writing became all the more sultry when she stands there waiting, her back to him, her wildly dark hair falling to the curve of her rump. Her stereotype is that she's the wild girl, strong and assured of her every movement. She is not butch; rather, she's managed to turn this strength into some scent of feminine spice. He's changed the time he orders his drink to coincide with her usual appearance; he wants to get closer, inspect, prod, learn.

Her hair smells like aftershave today, Kakashi notes as he sidesteps her and takes his drink. This is different.

Different and yet familiar at the same time. Something niggles at the back of his brain; the aftershave smells familiar, somehow, generic and foreign and familiar all at once. He wonders where he's smelled it before, but then she interrupts him.

"Hey." She turns dark eyes to him, and suddenly Kakashi is frozen there. "I think your drink may be mine."

"Oh -" he manages, and he sets the cup down quickly atop the counter, dry fingertips burning. This is the first time he's interacted with her, and everything he knows is fleeing from him, terrified of her eyes and the way they hold him. Deep down in his writer's heart he is rejoicing at finally experiencing it. "I'm sorry, I thought -"

"Caramel macchiato, extra cream and caramel!" the barista calls out, and the look on her face changes to relief.

"Similar tastes?" he offers quietly, a wry grin turning the corner of his mouth up. He can feel his heartbeat dance something exotic in his ears and his nerves feel electrified. Still, he keeps her gaze and lets the sensations roll over him, packing them away mentally to be unrolled later in the guise of his literary protagonist.

They met in a coffee shop, unusually usual and so mundane. She didn't look like the type who needed the sugar and cream of a mixed coffee; rather, he imagined her natural surroundings as being dimly-lit and smelling like alcohol, her eyes quick and bright and her firm thighs hugging a bar stool as her hair tumbled carelessly over one shoulder.

"I'm Kakashi," the writer says without preamble, holding out his free hand in greeting. "And you are...?"

"Kurenai," she answers quickly, without embellishment. "I'm sorry about that." Her handshake is firm, professional, and underneath the aftershave there is a light, flowery scent that reminds him of spring. He watches as she takes an experimental sip and makes a face. "Not enough caramel," she mutters. Her eyes flick back upwards towards him, and Kakashi realizes belatedly that she is smaller than she seems. "Wait, aren't you the one who spilled coffee on me?"

Kakashi colors immediately, raising a hand to scritch at the back of his head in a gesture of embarrassment. "I think so," he says with an abashed smile. "I'm really sorry about that. I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going, I'm afraid." No, he really wasn't.

Kakashi seems to eternally have his head elsewhere, which was good for a writer but bad when it came to dealing with everyday life. When she---Kurenai---saunters in, though, it's like everything suddenly becomes focused, crisp; even as he scritches out his embarrassment and ekes out a small chuckle, he can feel the heat coming off of her. This woman is perfect as his female lead, and he will remember everything about her.

Kurenai arches a dark brow at him, her lipstick leaving perfect red o kisses on the plastic rim of her coffee cup. She's probably waiting for him to either go on or move out of her way, and Kakashi strains to dredge up dialogue.

"Well, no harm done," she says finally as the silence stretches out for a second or two. "Nice to meet you... Kakashi." And with that she swirls around and sways out of the coffeeshop, boots thunking imperiously against the hard wood floor. Kakashi is left kicking himself for not saying something, anything, for not being half as suave with women as his old roommate was.

DEAR FLIST

2007-01-19T20:12:10Z

DEAR FLIST. STOP WITH THE FUCKING DRAMA. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK OF ME, THE WAY I PLAY CHARACTERS, OR THE QUALITY OF MY RPS. Make your judgmental remarks, ooze your disapproval, wtvr. I'm done.

Here, watch some Captain Planet.

Captain Planet is my antiwank.

memes make the world go round...or something like that

2007-01-18T20:15:04Z

Stole it from singmetechno:

1. I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll challenge you to try something.
3. I'll pick a color that I associate with you.
4. I'll tell you something I like about you.
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something I've always wanted to ask you.
8. If I do this for you, you must post this in your journal.

♥

ALSO. RP KIDS WHO WERE IN THE CHAT LAST NIGHT, LISTEN UP. Mich, Keryn and Jamie and Li and I were being amazingly brilliant last night and came up with a name for the new RP: Shade Without Color, (without_color) an allusion to the poem "The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot. If you haven't read it, omg do it right now. I already put together Kankurou's journal, swear_i_tripped, because he more tripped from grace than fell from it XDDD. I'll be working on the gist blurb tonight after I get another ~~300 pages~~ couple of chapters of Middlemarch finished. Do you want me to get the applications running, too? I could possibly get that whole process kicked off if someone else would be so kind as to volunteer for these other things. We need:

♣ Someone in charge of pimping in various other communities CONFIRMED: Mich
♣ Someone in charge of graphics: layout, banners, etc. CONFIRMED: Jamie
♣ Someone, possibly done in-chat with the entire group, to brainstorm more about the angelic hierarchy---Li or Jamie, refresh me on the ideas we had on that. I totally don't remember the entirety of those ideas as I was zombie!Kitty and my chat program cut the log into four pieces.
♣ Someone in charge of rejecting/accepting applications beyond the group votes---Jax and Nate, were you two going to be the bitchy ones? CONFIRMED: Keryn

Ideas on places in the city that could be highly-frequented hotspots (and totally thought up during my morning class D:):

The Galaxy Theater---Kankurou works the night shift here. Modeled after this theater, which was built in the early 1900's and turned into a movie theater. Gorgeous, gorgeous place, though it's falling to pieces.
Valley Apartment Complex---Obligatory shitty apartment building. Many of the characters could live here, methinks. We might even do roommate assignments if enough people want to plant their kids there.
Extreme Bean---Equally obligatory coffee shop.
Survivors of Unplanned yet Crippling Knitting Accidents Anonymous (aka SUCKAA)---a support group front where all the fallen can come and bitch.

dskfsl these are just the ideas I had this morning; tell me if you guys want to run with any of them.

GOING TO GO FINISH MY HOMEWORK NOW

..._

2007-01-12T18:18:12Z

So apparently, this is what Shikamaru's chuunin-rank party looked like. Considering the original InoShikaCho threw the bash, I am not entirely surprised by the vaguely ritualistic undertones. Candle wax---and is that a whip Shikaku's holding?

Positive proof that in Naruto, you're really best off if your parents kick it at an early age. Jounin get reeeeeeeally senile reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally fast ♥.

More proof supporting the above statement. Obviously, this is what jounin do for shits and giggles. That, or Chouza, Shikaku, and Inoichi WANT DEATH.

Page one of a darling ChoShika minicomic ♥♥♥. I'M ALLOWED TO FANGIRL, TOO, OKAY?

Page two.

Page three---CUTEST FUCKING CHIBIS EVER. EVEREVER.

Page four---YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

And this is why I was fangirling like mad yesterday :3.

YES. YESYES. VICTORY.

2007-01-11T19:32:05Z

DSOJFDIJFOID. HAPPY. CAN'T BREATHE. SQUEE'ING TO DEATH. WILL EXPLAIN LATER. TOO BUSY KEYPOUNDING.

sfdfkpdfoprsorpgith[ojigohJOY.

teaser

2007-01-09T07:12:35Z

Yaaay, I have my scanner but it needs cleaned. sdfksldfj tired. sleep now; art-dump and STUFF tomorrow.

Lots of art later. And an update on my unlife. And pictures of the ducks. And the haircut I'm getting tomorrow. I'll be a camwhore and everything.

It'd be cooler if I were undead...but no, I am too lame. So. Uh. Sleep now kthxbai.

Don't Squish The Kitty

theninjakitty @ 2008-12-24T22:03:00

theninjakitty @ 2007-11-08T02:48:00

HALP

pimp

drabble requests + perviness

oh hi fandom

Drabbledump

lawl pairing warz

HURRHURR

memes make the world go round...or something like that

five drabbles

LURKER DAY

nipplenipplenipplenipple

BATTLE TIEMZ

RADIO?

will strip 4 fewd

A VERY SERIOUS POLL

BREAKING NEWS

ZOMBIE JESUS IS GONNA GET JAMIE

AsuKakaKure cosnippet

DEAR FLIST

memes make the world go round...or something like that

...*_*

YES. YESYES. VICTORY.

teaser

..._