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#be who you are (no compromise)
kaiminluu · 1 year
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happy birthday to our most beloved will byers :) here're some byler grease concept sketches
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you’re an angel, i’m a dog ; satoru gojo
synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.
word count; 4.3k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.
a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…
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satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
”haah…”
— the sigh spills into the air, dripping with exhaustion, a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching.
just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.
another sigh. deep, exasperated — from satoru, this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment. 
”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”
you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.
”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”
he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”
then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.
even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.
but you just won’t listen.
”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”
a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.
”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”
at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.
”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”
and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.
time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right. 
of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.
still, though.
”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”
you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”
”my little night owl.”
that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.
with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”
satoru softens. 
(always so good to him.)
”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”
in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.
he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.
satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease. 
satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.
so he’s been worried.
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.
he just doesn’t trust your professor. 
that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.
it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.
(it was only a matter of time.)
satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.
and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —
it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.
it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled. 
there’s only one way to satiate it.
so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.
then he grabs his coat and slips outside.
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the moon is visible through the window.
a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast. 
(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)
”who… w — what are — ?”
satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure. 
just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick. 
he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.
he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.
he just can’t bring himself to care.
”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”
silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat. 
it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.
satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”
another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.
then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”
the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.
before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”
it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair. 
he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. 
but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.
a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.
the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.
finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve. 
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three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly. 
there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact. 
that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.
(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?
it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)
there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.
and there you are.
on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes. 
you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.
suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.
“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”
his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.
“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.” 
he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch. 
but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.
satoru would never cage you in. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious. 
so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.
(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)
“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.
“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”
“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”
satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat. 
and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance. 
“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”
and he grins. like clockwork. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”
again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”
“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”
and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.
“right! i almost forgot!” 
then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.
he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.
but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance. 
satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.
you, you, you. the only thing that exists.
all of him is for you.
”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw. 
”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting, slipping from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”
”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”
another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.
so precious that he forgets about everything else. 
this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care. 
you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.
it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it. 
(something worth cherishing, no matter the cost.)
as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date. 
satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.
“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”
satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”
“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“
“— yet.”
a pause. 
satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”
a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist. 
he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”
a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.
“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”
satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.
”you’re so gross.”
a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”
”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue. 
”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.” 
”charmer.”
”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”
and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything that’s good, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches a flicker of joy dance within your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.
the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think. 
satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back. 
so why not bear the weight of your burdens?
all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.
he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.
“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”
he prays it never will.
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Track list for Fig and the Cig Figs independently published Junior Year album (officially named “Infaethable”)
Teenage Rebellion
Night Yorb (a heavy metal banger)
Summer Scaries
Devils Nectar
Time Quangle (a love song about Ayda)
Multiclass (Gorgug sings on this!)
The Ballad Of Lucy Frostblade (Kristen was the one who convinced Fig to write this)
So Late, So Tactical
Do You Have A Fucking Warrant
Cassandra (Can You Hear Me)
Hall Of Mirrors
President Applebees (written entirely in the night after Kristen gets elected by a drunk Fig with extremely drunk notes by Kristen)
Raging For Love (inspired by Gorgug, of course)
The Elven Oracle (Has A Day Job) (So Stop Bothering Her)
Maximum Legend
Fury Of The Ball
Cursed
Infaethable
The Bad Kids
#i neeeeed fig to go indie it’s her destiny#she promises each of them that she’ll dedicate at least one song to them and then dedicates a track to each of them individually#sklondas seething a tiny bit that she called riz the ball but he won’t stop playing it so it keeps getting stuck in her head#adaine summons mephits to help with her track#you can hear her in the background near the end yelling ‘yeah!’ and ‘fuck off!’#fabian wanted his to sound like a shanty but fig said it wouldn’t go with the vibe of the album#they eventually compromised by having the noise of waves and seagulls subtly in the background throughout#kristen actually cried the first time fig played the ballad of lucy frostblade for them#summer scaries sounds like an olivia rodrigo song#gorgug gets a sick drum solo in raging for love#time quangle opens with fire crackling and a bird cawing and a quiet clip of ayda saying ‘I love you’ before the instrumental starts#fig stuck a quiet sound clip of gilear saying ‘oh fuck’ and then a louder sound clip of her saying ‘oh fuck!’ in cursed#devils nectar is one of the slower tracks on the album#hall of mirrors is heavily inspired by the events at evil mordred and baron so you can hear a lot of influences from baronesian music in it#fig has a fucking sick as hell guitar solo and a couple of samples from just the bottomless pit in general in infaethable#Gorthalax also gets some lyrical input on it#fig manages to get a clip of riz saying ‘the ball bitch!’ to kalvaxus in freshman year to put in fury of the ball#is this too long for an album? maybe but who cares I love this#a good portion of the profits made from the album goes towards college for the party#having thoughts about fig and the cig fig’s Junior year album#autism (mads) speaks#fantasy high#fhjy#fig faeth#fantasy high junior year#dimesnion 20#d20 fantasy high#fig and the cig figs
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sergle · 7 months
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(re: sssniperwolf and jacksfilms) It's laughable that she escalated it that hard. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure stalking him like that is illegal and it's terrifying regardless, but Jack said in a stream (can't remember which one) that he wasn't about bringing up past controversies of hers or cancelling. And now she shows up outside his house (wtf!!!). Like he was willing to only call her out for stealing and freebooting but she's gone and stalked him and Jack doesn't seem like the type of guy to take that shit. Actual WTF moment from her part. wild
omg long post below bc apparently I have opinions: YES!! THAT'S WHAT'S SO INCREDIBLE ABOUT THIS... Jack has been genuinely diligent about keeping things on-topic in his streams, and hasn't brought up any of her other Stuff, or anything Personal. Despite the fact that she kickstarted the whole thing by making it INCREDIBLY personal and attacking his physical appearance... His goal has been to call out and bring attention to content theft, and he's stuck with it. Dude's also cared about this for years, and she's not the first content thief he's criticized. He just hates the way that freebooting has become so accepted-- to the point where youtube praised her for "coming up with such creative video ideas"? Hey! Ew! Dude wasn't trying to get her cancelled though, there was no smear campaign of her character. He's been rallying to get her to CREDIT the creators that she relies on for all of her content. It would set a precedent for all other "react" channels on the platform for one of the biggest channels on youtube to actually give credit where credit is due. Or, god forbid, get permission first? It's not hard. It's already done the job of making some other people who do "react content" self-analyze whether or not their content is transformative, and to maybe care about crediting the creators they rely on for their genre to work. There is a way to make this kind of video that isn't so slimy. And making fun of her lackluster-at-best reactions is so far from even being a big deal. Bc she literally does just sit there and say nothing. Plus, his goal has a clear End built into it: if she started shouting out the creators she takes content from, and put links directly to their pages in her video descriptions, the job would be done! That's what he's asking her to do. Real bare minimum stuff. It legit would have been easy to steer away from the content theft and to also talk about her history of lying to her audience! her ghosting a dying kid with cancer who was a big fan of hers! the fact that she's been arrested for armed robbery! her history of transphobia! He would also get more clicks that way, which is what she claims is his sole goal- to get more clicks. I'll bring it up though! She's been a terrible person the whole time, and has kept a steady course of manipulating her audience of young children and/or, let's be completely honest, simps- into thinking that she's a Wholesome creator. (And now, into thinking she's an innocent victim.) All of the actual effort put in by her has gone toward optics, not the content she puts out. A carefully constructed online persona, for one, but also literal appearances. Jack totally can't say this, bc she already went off the handle and said the only reason he doesn't like her is bc he Hates To See A Woman Be Successful. But I can! That was a cheap shot for her to use that argument when, for once, it's not applicable! Much the opposite, even! Dudes online wouldn't go to bat for her if she didn't look the way she does. And it weakens any case she'd have against him by making baseless claims like that. She banks hugely on being an attractive woman to get her clicks/following. A massive amount of effort is put into her appearance. The makeup, the lip fillers, putting her hair in little pigtails, the chokers and tube tops, the big non-prescription Nerd Glasses, the thumbnails where she has her mouth open in That Expression?
I don't even have to say anything. But making a weird facial expression and putting your hair in pigtails aren't moral failings. Showing up at someone's real life home (whose address you shouldn't even have access to), filming the front of their house at night, doxxing them to your audience of millions of people? Because you were mad at them online? That is fully scary! Yeah girl I'm pretty sure that Jack can press charges! There is absolutely no way to take the moral highground now that she's literally stalked him, and doxxed his home. She tried to goad him and Erin (Jack's wife) out of the house, also, which creeps me out even more-- because what was she planning to do? The fact that she's been arrested for violent crime before does pop into my mind! lmao! Jack was streaming a game at the time that she was outside his home, and these clips of him, his friends, and Erin reacting in real time to what is genuinely a scary situation have been taken down in case he needs to use them in legal action. Shit is legitimately serious!
#sergle answers#long post#LONGEST POST ON EARTH I'M SO SORRY#saying all this out loud only takes a few minutes but typing it... girl this is a BOOK#clearly I have thoughts on this Online Drama but also this isn't online!#these are people who exist in real life. and compromising a person's safety bc he criticized you for stealing tiktoks#is a real life thing. this isn't confined to online spaces! you can turn off your computer to get away from An Argument#but someone going to your house?? that's absolutely terrifying#and all of this is just because he's been telling her to credit the creators. it could have been resolved so simply.#I hope he takes legal action against her bc he genuinely has grounds to do so.#and I can't imagine how terrified and upset I would be if someone was outside my door. filming my house for their audience.#also the 'what if the roles were reversed' argument is rarely made in good faith... but she's already brought up the topic.#this would be getting even more coverage and the optics would be Even Creepier if a strange man with millions of followers showed up#at the home of a woman- just bc she criticized his videos- filming her home address for all to see and trying to get her to come outside.#It's just as creepy that sssniperwolf did this as it would be coming from ANYONE else#it's been downplayed bc her being a little skinny woman means that A Man shouldn't be threatened by her#which. even if she wasn't going to Do anything. any one of her rabidly loyal online followers MIGHT. she's not the only one who could go to#his house now! anyone could show up.#sergle.txt#Jacksfilms#Sssniperwolf
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kyouka-supremacy · 6 months
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One thing I keep thinking about is how the pm's front company is literally called “Mori Corporation”. Like yeah sure, let's put the actual name of our evil boss, most likely the most wanted person in the entire Yokohama, as the title of our not-shady-at-all perfectly-subtle black-themed industry. What could ever go wrong
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hayaku14 · 8 months
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OBSESSED with the idea of KID coming into the Kudou mansion seeking refuge (either he got heavily injured or his idenity is compromised) but instead is met with Okiya Subaru, Kudou Yukiko, and Kudou Yusaku. (Conan is also there coincidentally because lady luck hasn't totally abandoned him yet, apparently, but Kaito is sort of distracted by the amount of non-conans in the house to appreciate it.)
one day (before akai moves in) conan drags kid's injured ass back into the kudou mansion to patch him up (and also to demand answers about the snipers in the heist)
kid refuses to tell more about the snipers and conan doesn't pry but keeps an offer of help open
it becomes an unspoken agreement that kid would go to conan if something out of his hand happens in relation to said snipers
by 'go to conan' conan meant go to him, the person, as in wherever location he was at. kid, on the other hand, thought he should come back to the kudou mansion.
months pass, subaru, yusaku, and yukiko come to occupy the kudou household.
kid, injured or identity compromised, sees the lights are on and assumes conan is inside. which well...he ISN'T WRONG (LOL)
kid goes in through the window of conan's room which startles conan who was there to pick something up in his room.
"What are you doing here?!" Conan scream-whispers in a panic.
KID stiffens and stares at him with something like betrayal in his eyes. "Oh, I see I'm not welcome here."
"No! No wait that's not what I meant. It's just, this is NOT the best time."
Someone knocks on the door and the two of them jump. KID's eyes widen in realization as Conan quickly drags and pushes him into a closet. "Don't make a sound." KID does a zipping motion across his lips and makes a show of throwing an imaginary key. Conan rolls his eyes at him before closing the door.
anyways, it was akai who went up to check on conan cause the 4 of them were in the middle of a discussion and conan was suspiciously taking too long.
whether kid gets caught by akai and the kudou fam or not, i have no idea, but either way I WANT IT.
although tbh i feel like akai and yusaku would sense someone else is inside and yusaku would know exactly who it is LOL
then again, whether kid is heavily injured, has his identity compromised, or both, is a big factor on how events will unfold. (and i love exploring each one so my brain is rotting pls someone send help)
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reactionimagesdaily · 8 months
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philcoulsonismyhero · 2 months
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There's a lot of lines in Amongst Our Weapons that make me want to wave my arms around and yell incoherently about Peter and Nightingale and how far they've come and how much they mean to each other, but right now the one I want to yell about the most is this one from right at the end:
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Image text: 'The wider the base, the greater the stability of the building,' said Nightingale. 'You taught me that.'
Because, like. Peter wanted to be an architect. The thing he always wanted to do was to build things. And look what he's built! He hasn't just rebuilt the Folly as it was, he's built something modern and completely new out of its constituent parts and he's done it by caring about people and being interested in how things work and by what Beverly jokingly calls 'compulsive networking'.
And everything he's done for the Folly, he's done for Nightingale on a personal level too.
Nightingale was So isolated when Peter first met him. His police colleagues didn't want much to do with him, his social circle seemed to consist of Molly and Dr Walid and not much more, he was completely out of touch with the modern world. And to his credit, he was the one who decided to take on an apprentice, but that was pretty much all he was planning to do. Train up a replacement for himself in case he got killed, pass on the Forms and Wisdoms properly, keep the status quo going.
But he chose Peter, and suddenly he's got an apprentice who wants to study the science behind magic and modernise the Folly's record keeping and work out better ways to liaise with other police and fundamentally Make Changes. Nightingale ends up with all these connections through Peter, to Beverley and the other Thames girls, to Lesley, to Abigail, eventually to the rest of Peter's family, to other police like Guleed and Stephanopoulos and unfortunately for him Seawoll... He has people he can rely on, and who choose to rely on him, and not just for magic -I especially love how Peter's mum eventually starts using him to babysit Peter's dad, and the fact that he helps Abigail's family with her brother. He's not alone anymore, and he goes from just living to genuinely thriving.
And it's all down to Peter, and what the two of them have built together. In fact, they've built something so significant that in a few years Nightingale isn't going to be necessary anymore. He's been Britain's Last Official Wizard for seventy years, all the weight of that tradition resting on his shoulders alone, and in a handful of years Peter has helped him to build something that'll be able to take the weight instead if he wants it to. There are people who can help do everything he's been doing alone and more, so finally he can think about what he actually wants for himself. (And don't even get me started on his arc re: teaching and discovering that it's what he wants to do for the rest of his life, I Will start yelling even more.)
And it's Peter who's taught him to let other people take the weight. That you can build something stable and lasting if you're willing to share the load. The wider the base, the greater the stability of the building.
Not bad for a wannabe architect who can't draw, huh?
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aceghosts · 12 days
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Rooney Shepard (They/Them)/Yorinobu Arasaka Screenshots (6/X)
Death of Peace of Mind Pose Pack by @elfjpeg
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nero-neptune · 6 months
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her beautiful, bloodshot eyes have bewitched me body and soul
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Why is Steven acting like all hope is lost? He could use his White Diamond power to possess the Cluster and make it not explode the Earth
Sure he could! Just like all the problems on earth can be solved immediately and without any complications and consequences if someone just took ALLLLLL the plastic in the ocean and launched it into space. Nothing hard about that at all. :)
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mercymaker · 4 months
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ARTEMYRA WAYCREST ⬩ high half-elf ⬩ warlock ⬩ noble
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jasontoddenthusiastt · 6 months
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Imo Jason is “irredeemable” by default because I don’t see what he needs redemption from.
#I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before but joining this fandom made me fucking hate the word ‘redemption’#no person I’ve seen who is in love with the concept knows the who what where when why or how it should work in a story#apparently it isn’t just themes and tropes anymore people don’t understand the proper use of the word ‘villain’#kelseethe#also hilarious: Jason should recieve sensitivity training HR style from Bruce ‘I’m the government and children are my cronies’ wayne#if Jasons headstrong/‘answers to no one’ attitude towards vigilantism is what makes people think he's villainous#I hate to be a broken record but the baddie you’re describing is Bruce#nobody thinks he’s a villain for only trusting in his own methods/self and repeatedly isolating himself#and on top of that gaslighting and hurting people around him in attempts to do what HE **thinks** is the right thing#you people always thought *him* heroic not problematic for all these traits#the only difference is Jason isn’t psychologically abusive & controlling#yet he’s still the bad guy just cause he liberally kills folks in the crime business.#l'd argue goth ham war is the b*tman story to remind you of everything that makes Bruce authentically himself#Idk how to tell you that Bruce mentally compromising/crippling his son in a twisted attempt to ‘save him from himself’#is perfectly in line with slitting the same son’s throat because he couldn’t stand to see him avenge his own killer#and yk what a redemption arc could be interesting for someone like Bruce#because he rarely questions or doubts his choices esp wrt Jason. no matter how morally dubious they may be#I think it would be quite fun to witness his extremely restricted worldview be challenged/shattered he deserves that humbling experience
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g1rlr0b1n · 11 months
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What if my mind lived in a special place in the multiverse where Jon still got lost in space but came back only a year younger than Damian and they got to finish High School together, got to go to college together, got to celebrate every age milestone together, and never had to go through that awkward "this age gap feels huge" phase? Like, what then?
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fromtheseventhhell · 8 months
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"The best calumnies are spiced with truth," suggested Qavo, "but the girl's true sin cannot be denied. This arrogant child has taken it upon herself to smash the slave trade, but that traffic was never confined to Slaver's Bay. It was part of the sea of trade that spanned the world, and the dragon queen has clouded the water. Behind the Black Wall, lords of ancient blood sleep poorly, listening as their kitchen slaves sharpen their long knives. Slaves grow our food, clean our streets, teach our young. They guard our walls, row our galleys, fight our battles. And now when they look east, they see this young queen shining from afar, this breaker of chains. The Old Blood cannot suffer that. Poor men hate her too. Even the vilest beggar stands higher than a slave. This dragon queen would rob him of that consolation." (Tyrion VI, ADWD) Should you reach your queen, give her a message from the slaves of Old Volantis." She touched the faded scar upon her wrinkled cheek, where her tears had been cut away. "Tell her we are waiting. Tell her to come soon." (Tyrion VII, ADWD)
I appreciate how George explicitly makes the point that slavery isn't just about the economic aspect and that it is, at its root, built on subjugation. Even the people who don't directly benefit from it will fight to keep the system in place just so they have someone beneath them. That's why all the criticisms of Dany not replacing the economy before abolishing slavery fall flat, because that wouldn't have worked either. The slavers would've fought to enforce slavery regardless because they enjoyed the power and privilege it granted them. We also get insight onto the slaves thoughts on Dany's revolution, which makes it feel like this perspective is only coming from the consideration of the slavers and not the people actually being subjugated. The slaves want to be free, they want Dany to free them, and that shouldn't have to wait until the people who think of them as property decide it's acceptable.
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hskdinsdsjoc · 5 months
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Anyone who claims to love Max but criticises him abt the pitlane overtake is too weak to love him.
Bye 👋🏻
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