#it's a fast read if nothing else and entertaining

[capinejghafa]

Currently reading The Right Swipe by Alisha Rai and it's definitely an improvement from my last read. Also, you can hear the author's voice in this if that makes sense.

#myra reads the right swipe #random #listen i think it's a cute book and not long and im about a 3rd of the way done #it's a fast read if nothing else and entertaining #so sorry ive been on a book quest this past month i just needed this for my mental health #myra's reading adventures

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Astonishment widens your gaze when you find your mother sitting on your bed when you go back upstairs. Her hands are twitching in her lap and she makes a beeline to you when she sees you.

“So, how did it go?” she asks, urgency laced in her tone. 

Your brows knit. “It went fine. Why do you even care, mother?”

“Coriolanus will be a good friend to have in the future,” she says, her hands seizing yours for emphasis. 

“A good friend?”

Your mother rolls her eyes. She then tugs you by the hand and takes you to your bed so you can both sit on it. The mattress dips with both your weights.

“Don’t you know, sweetie? How well his tribute did in the last Hunger Games? That Lucy Gray girl-”

“You know I don’t like to watch it,” you underscore, your frown accentuating. You don’t know why anyone would willingly tune in to this butchery and call it entertainment. 

Her hold on your hand grows tighter. “You need to grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

You tamp down your hurt at her criticism.

She licks her lips and continues, “And it’s not just that. He’s on the fast track to becoming top student at the University, he’s Volumnia Gaul’s apprentice and he’s even got sway with-”

“What does any of it have to do with me, mother?” you interrupt, your well of patience running dry as she keeps singing the young man’s praises. It’s not like you’re not aware of Coriolanus’ accomplishments. He’s ambitious and clever. It was always obvious he’d get far in life. But clearly your mother’s trying to make a point and you’d like for her to stop beating around the bush and just spill it.

“He likes you.”

“I like him too,” you reply with a shrug.

She tilts her head, her interest seeming piqued. “Do you really?”

“Yes, I’m glad we can be friends again.”

“Friends is a good start. Your father and I started as friends…”

You draw your hands back, standing up in shock at her implication. Outrage blooms inside you. This is just like Demetria Plinth. While you’re aware your mother doesn’t approve of your current match, you never thought she’d be so devious.

“I’m engaged, mother.”

She sighs as she stands up too. Disappointment paints her features.

“I know, I know. And William’s a sweet boy but-”

“But what?”

She tilts your chin up. “What kind of future do you think you’ll have with him, hm?”

“One full of happiness and love,” you defend hotly.

She bursts out a chuckle. “Love and happiness do not provide food or shelter. But a match to a promising young man from a great house would-”

You cut her off again, peeved at her repeated ignorance of your wishes, “Like I said, we’re friends, mother, nothing else. I’m getting married in three weeks, whether you and Dad like it or not.”

Her lips clamp shut as she steps back from you. 

“And you have made that exceedingly clear, how little you cared for our opinion…”

“It’s not that, I just wished-”

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s no matter. Just promise me one thing?”²

“What thing?” you ask, suspicion clear in your voice.

“Keep him close,” she says, her eyes softening. “Can you at least do that for us, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m being serious,” she emphasizes. “After your brother…” Her voice breaks at the mention of her son. Tears start to press behind your eyes at the sight of her grief-stricken expression. “We can’t afford any misstep. Do you understand?”

You don’t have it in you to fight her anymore, not when she’s like this. So you wrap your arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “I understand,” you reply, rubbing her back as she weeps in silence.

Naturally, your own tears follow suit. Whenever your mother cries, it's never too long before you start crying as well.

You may not go as far in your relationship with Coriolanus as your mother wants you to, but you can at least keep him in your life. And based on your encounter this afternoon, it will not be hard. You want him in your life. You missed him. 

You just hope your mother learns to accept that you and Coriolanus will never be more than friends.

God, you despise these events. You peer at your lavish surroundings once again. They certainly didn’t spare any expense, and this includes your father. Every inch of the palatial room screams wealth, from the champagne tower, to the elaborate sculptures and gold accents from floor to ceiling. 

Internally, you wince. This is the kind of futile displays of privilege the Capitol likes to indulge in. A waste of resources when people in the Districts are starving.

You bet if Sejanus were here, he’d feel the same.

Sipping lightly from your glass of posca, you nod along at the man who speaks to you. It’s been almost an hour and he hasn’t realized you haven’t uttered a single word. You wonder if he even cares. Gauis Creed, Festus Creed’s father, is the kind of man who basks in the sound of his own voice more than anyone else’s.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, pretending you’re tired and need to sit.

William follows you as you go find your father’s table. 

You unleash a sigh as you plop down on one of the velvet chairs around the table. An Avox approaches you, plate of appetizers in hand, and offers you one. You refuse with a smile, your heart twisting as you meet their gaze.

William’s hand folds over yours.

“You’re okay, baby?” he asks, concern swimming in his green eyes.

“I’m fine. These things are just so exhausting.”

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles as he smiles at you. “We just need to stay long enough to be polite.”

“I know.”

William suddenly straightens his spine, his attention traveling above your head. You pivot in your seat to see what caught his eye.

Your breath hitches at the sight of Coriolanus. He smoothly walks into the room, locking arms with his cousin Tigris. His stylish crimson fit, a two piece suit with a white rose pinned to his breast pocket, highlights his good looks. His blonde locks are slicked back in that formal way you’ve seen him sport since he came back. He wears it well. It makes him look older, wiser.

He radiates confidence and you don’t miss the looks that trail him as he enters. The young heir of House Snow is making quite an impression.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” William inquires, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit and rearranging his lapels. 

“Yeah, that’s him,” you reply, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance. 

But your fiancé’s eyes don’t stray from Coryo. A frown mars his brow. 

“Who’s the woman with him?”

“That’s Tigris, his cousin.”

Striking blue eyes slam into yours, making your heart skip a beat. You watch as the blonde whispers something to Clemensia Dovecote before weaving his way through the crowd.

“He’s making his way to us,” William says.

Frozen in your seat, you nod dumbly.

He glides in your direction, each of his steps graceful and determined. Not once does Coriolanus’ cobalt gaze strays from yours.

“You came,” you say when he’s in front of you.

He plucks your hand from your lap and drops an ephemeral, soft kiss on it. When he lets go of your hand, the feel of his lips linger, making your flesh tingle. You confine a gasp, your face warming. The move surprises you coming from Coriolanus. He knows etiquette better than anyone else. Doing this in front of your fiancé could be perceived as provocation. 

You’re sure he didn’t mean it that way, being naturally suave and charming, but you wish he’d tone it down tonight to not give William the wrong impression.

“I made a promise to a pretty girl, so I had to,” he rasps, honey dripping in his deep timbre.

Part of you melts. Ten years ago, you’d have done anything for Coryo to notice you, let alone whisper words such as these to you.

You collect yourself, giving a nod as you rise from your seat. 

You beam at his cousin. As always, she looks stunning. Tonight she wears a tight, scarlet dress that compliments her slender frame.

“Tigris, it’s been a while,” you chime.

“Too long,” she replies before hugging you.

You return the gesture. Tigris was always sweet to you. While you never went to school together as she’s three years older than you and Janus, there were many times she’d admonish children who pestered you. You remember wanting to be like her when you were younger, a poised, beautiful Capitol lady that’d make your parents proud.

It was before you realized how vapid most citizens of the Capitol are, that none of them care about anything that matters. Still, Tigris remains one of the kindest people you’ve ever encountered.

“You’ve grown into a gorgeous young woman,” she praises.

Despite you, a sliver of pride flutters inside you at her compliment. 

The reunion is interrupted when your parents arrive.

As you expect, they barely acknowledge William, but they grin from ear to ear when addressing Coriolanus.

“You clean up nicely, young man,” Strabo lauds.

Your mother doles out similar praise, asking him where he got his shirt from.

“Shall we sit?” your dad adds.

“Oh, may we?”

“Don’t be silly. We made sure there’d be room for both of you.”

So that’s who the extra chairs were for. You wondered before. You suppose it makes sense now.

Everyone sits and food is brought to the table. 

The tantalizing spread of meat and vegetables doesn’t entice you despite its artistic arrangement. Still, you dutifully gulp bite after bite, aware people in the districts are starving while you get to enjoy a fancy meal. You shouldn’t waste any of it.

The whole time, you try your best to ignore the way Coriolanus’ arm keeps grazing yours as he talks.

You stay quiet as the Snow cousins and your parents drone on about clothes and other frivolous matters. 

When the conversation begins to veer to more serious topics however, your ears perk.

“...And we’ve been trying to raise the viewership for the next Hunger Games through-”

“Well, maybe if it wasn’t about sponsoring the murder of children, it’d be easier,” William notes, cutting your father off mid-sentence.

Quiet falls over the table. Strabo’s jaw ticks while he glares angrily at your fiancé. Your mother shakes her head and tosses you a look of disapproval.

She doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to hear her thoughts loud and clear. They’re plainly written all over her face.

As for you, pride and love glow inside you as you twine your fingers with William’s. 

Once again, he makes you feel like you’re not the mad one in this mad world.

“What do you think?”

 Coriolanus’s abrupt question has you choking on your spoonful.

You cough and dab your mouth with a napkin, embarrassment swirling in your gut.

Beneath his intense stare, you quickly try to gather your words.

“Me? I…There has to be another way to discourage rebellions, a more humane way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

A tender smile unfurls on his lips. “You’re sweet.”

The symphonic orchestra on stage starts playing music. Some of the guests start joining the dancefloor, waltzing along to the melancholy tune.

Coriolanus suddenly gets to his feet and steals your hand. 

“Do you mind?” he tells William while tugging you out of your chair. 

“I…” your fiancé begins. But Coriolanus drags you to the dancefloor, not waiting for his response.

Too dumbstruck to utter a word yourself, you let him. 

He slips his arm around your waist and sways to the music. You follow his lead, trying to discard how unnerving the proximity is. The faint scent of roses coats your senses, rendering you a bit dizzy. It reminds you of your garden. 

“He speaks like a rebel,” he says.

You stiffen. “He speaks the truth, and he isn’t afraid to do it. It’s what I love about him.”

Coriolanus scrutinizes you, his blank expression impossible to read. You gasp when he spins you. He then pulls your back flush against his broad chest. Your heart hammers wildly  and you find yourself praying he doesn’t hear it. 

His soft whisper fans over your ear. “He’ll get you in trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble,” you reply.

His deep chuckle ripples along your neck. “Hm, do you, princess?”

Your throat goes dry. You pivot in your heels so you aren’t so close, remembering that William is a few feet away watching.

Your cheeks burn. 

“Coryo,” you mumble, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Yes?”

“You’ve changed, you know.”

“Hm, maybe it’s my hair. I’m trying to grow it out again.”

You shake your head.

“It’s not that. You’re just…a bit different.”

You don’t remember him ever being so bold and…so many other things you can’t place. You simply know that the longer you are in his presence, the longer it feels as if you’ll tumble into an abyss, one you won’t so easily climb your way out of.

He slants his head.

“Good different or bad different?”

You shrug and smile.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

The gala leaves you rattled, hesitant to speak to Coriolanus for a few days. You know he’s not to blame for your parents’ behavior, but he didn’t exactly help matters with everything he did that night. Your mother for instance couldn’t stop raving about it on the way back home. You were grateful William wasn’t there to hear it. He’s worked hard to obtain your parents’ approval, even pretending to be someone he wasn’t at first just to impress them. But nothing he’s done ever worked. By mere virtue of his birth, the match is ill-fated in your parents’ eyes. 

Maybe distance with the blond is what is best. Once you and William are married, they’ll have no choice but to accept it after all. It’ll be done and there’ll be nothing else for them to say.

“Your mother said I could find you here.”

Startled, you nearly drop your embroidery hoop. 

Your head snaps up. 

You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus’ towering frame darkening the entrance of the sunroom, sporting a white shirt and a long black coat. 

“Are you upset?” he asks, heading towards you. 

His bluntness, coupled with his unexpected presence, snatches the words from your tongue for a few minutes.

You blink and frown, focusing on driving the needle through the cotton fabric.

“Upset, why would I be upset?” you evasively reply.

“The gala…” His voice is closer now, the smell of roses floating around you.

You dip your head and examine your needlework. You frown. It’s a bit crooked. The stitches aren’t as tight as they should be, making the petals you were sewing appear misshapen.

“You’ve also been avoiding me,” he adds. Your breath catches as you realize he’s sitting next to you now. “You leave right after every class.”

It’s true that even at the University you’ve made yourself more scarce. You didn’t expect him to notice. But you surmise nothing ever escapes Coriolanus Snow’s sharp senses. As long as you’ve known him, he’s been this way. He’d let the tiniest, most insignificant problem corral his entire attention until he solved it. 

“I haven’t,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m not upset, Coryo.”

“So why won’t you look at me?” You squeeze your mouth shut, sewing as if your life depended on it.

“Look at me, princess,” he repeats, his hand finding your chin to force your gazes to meet. Your nerves thrum as he gauges you.

“I’m looking at you,” you whisper.

The blond’s forehead creases. His deep timbre softens while he explains, “I just want to be here for you, take care of you. That’s all. It’s just that…” He releases your face, his shoulders sagging. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” you insist, now eager to know what words were about to cross his lips.

It’s his turn to dodge your eyes now. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Your frustration hits its crest.

“Now I want to know even more.”

Coriolanus studies you for a while before a long, weary sigh drops from his chest. 

“It’s what Sejanus wanted,” he confesses, his soft inflection wavering.

You exhale sharply. “What?”

His throat bobs, emotions storming his blue eyes as they turn glassy with unshed tears.

“It’s almost like he knew, like he could feel it coming, you know?” Coriolanus pauses as if to gather himself. “He said ‘take care of her for me, please.’ He even had tears in his eyes.”

The hoop slips from your grasp as you gape at him in shock. Your voice comes out a watery quaver, tears welling in your eyes too.

“Did he really say that?”

“He did,” he confirms with a nod. A lone tear travels down his cheek. “I keep wishing I could have saved him, you know?”

He sounds disgusted with himself and your heart wrenches. It’s not like Coriolanus had anything to do with your brother’s death and could have prevented it. It saddens you that he feels the need to carry a burden that isn’t his own. All he did was be a friend to Sejanus. The picture of the two of them Janus carried proves it.

Without thought, your hand reaches his.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

His fingers curl around yours.

“I just want to honor your brother’s last wishes. He was my best friend.” His thumb caresses the back of your hand. “And I know I can never replace him but…let me be here for you, okay?”

You chuckle through the blurry veil of your tears. You can’t believe Coryo carried this weight with him all along. You wish he’d told you earlier. 

He simply wanted to be here for you. You’re both grieving your brother’s death, after all. Guilt trickles within you for even doubting him.

“Of course,” you reply, giving a tearful smile.

His hands rise to cup your face. He gingerly wipes your tears as you sniffle.

His face comes alight with a broad, tight-lipped smile.

“I’m very glad to hear that, princess.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #hunger games #coriolanus x reader

[imsobadatnicknames2]

How can you consider yourself any sort of leftist when you defend AI art bullshit? You literally simp for AI techbros and have the gall to pretend you're against big corporations?? Get fucked

I don't "defend" AI art. I think a particular old post of mine that a lot of people tend to read in bad faith must be making the rounds again lmao.

Took me a good while to reply to this because you know what? I decided to make something positive out of this and use this as an opportunity to outline what I ACTUALLY believe about AI art. If anyone seeing this decides to read it in good or bad faith... Welp, your choice I guess.

I have several criticisms of the way the proliferation of AI art generators and LLMs is making a lot of things worse. Some of these are things I have voiced in the past, some of these are things I haven't until now:

Most image and text AI generators are fine-tuned to produce nothing but the most agreeable, generically pretty content slop, pretty much immediately squandering their potential to be used as genuinely interesting artistic tools with anything to offer in terms of a unique aesthetic experience (AI video still manages to look bizarre and interesting but it's getting there too)

In the entertainment industry and a lot of other fields, AI image generation is getting incorporated into production pipelines in ways that lead to the immiseration of working artists, being used to justify either lower wages or straight-up layoffs, and this is something that needs to be fought against. That's why I unconditionally supported the SAG-AFTRA strikes last year and will unconditionally support any collective action to address AI art as a concrete labor issue

In most fields where it's being integrated, AI art is vastly inferior to human artists in any use case where you need anything other than to make a superficially pretty picture really fast. If you need to do anything like ask for revisions or minor corrections, give very specific descriptions of how objects and people are interacting with each other, or just like. generate several pictures of the same thing and have them stay consistent with each other, you NEED human artists and it's preposterous to think they can be replaced by AI.

There is a lot of art of the internet that consists of the most generically pretty, cookie-cutter anime waifu-adjacent slop that has zero artistic or emotional value to either the people seeing it or the person churning it out, and while this certainly was A Thing before the advent of AI art generators, generative AI has made it extremely easy to become the kind of person who churns it out and floods online art spaces with it.

Similarly, LLMs make it extremely easy to generate massive volumes of texts, pages, articles, listicles and what have you that are generic vapid SEO-friendly pap at best and bizzarre nonsense misinformation at worst, drowning useful information in a sea of vapid noise and rendering internet searches increasingly useless.

The way LLMs are being incorporated into customer service and similar services not only, again, encourages further immiseration of customer service workers, but it's also completely useless for most customers.

A very annoyingly vocal part the population of AI art enthusiasts, fanatics and promoters do tend to talk about it in a way that directly or indirectly demeans the merit and skill of human artists and implies that they think of anyone who sees anything worthwile in the process of creation itself rather than the end product as stupid or deluded.

So you can probably tell by now that I don't hold AI art or writing in very high regard. However (and here's the part that'll get me called an AI techbro, or get people telling me that I'm just jealous of REAL artists because I lack the drive to create art of my own, or whatever else) I do have some criticisms of the way people have been responding to it, and have voiced such criticisms in the past.

I think a lot of the opposition to AI art has critstallized around unexamined gut reactions, whipping up a moral panic, and pressure to outwardly display an acceptable level of disdain for it. And in particular I think this climate has made a lot of people very prone to either uncritically entertain and adopt regressive ideas about Intellectual Propety, OR reveal previously held regressive ideas about Intellectual Property that are now suddenly more socially acceptable to express:

(I wanna preface this section by stating that I'm a staunch intellectual property abolitionist for the same reason I'm a private property abolitionist. If you think the existence of intellectual property is a good thing, a lot of my ideas about a lot of stuff are gonna be unpalatable to you. Not much I can do about it.)

A lot of people are suddenly throwing their support behind any proposal that promises stricter copyright regulations to combat AI art, when a lot of these also have the potential to severely udnermine fair use laws and fuck over a lot of independent artist for the benefit of big companies.

It was very worrying to see a lot of fanfic authors in particular clap for the George R R Martin OpenAI lawsuit because well... a lot of them don't realize that fanfic is a hobby that's in a position that's VERY legally precarious at best, that legally speaking using someone else's characters in your fanfic is a much of a violation of copyright law as stright up stealing entire passages, and that any regulation that can be used against the latter can be extended against the former.

Similarly, a lot of artists were cheering for the lawsuit against AI art models trained to mimic the style of specific artists. Which I agree is an extremely scummy thinbg to do (just like a human artist making a living from ripping off someone else's work is also extremely scummy), but I don't think every scummy act necessarily needs to be punishable by law, and some of them would in fact leave people worse off if they were. All this to say: If you are an artist, and ESPECIALLY a fan artist, trust me. You DON'T wanna live in a world where there's precedent for people's artstyles to be considered intellectual property in any legally enforceable way. I know you wanna hurt AI art people but this is one avenue that's not worth it.

Especially worrying to me as an indie musician has been to see people mention the strict copyright laws of the music industry as a positive thing that they wanna emulate. "this would never happen in the music industry because they value their artists copyright" idk maybe this is a the grass is greener type of situation but I'm telling you, you DON'T wanna live in a world where copyright law in the visual arts world works the way it does in the music industry. It's not worth it.

I've seen at least one person compare AI art model training to music sampling and say "there's a reason why they cracked down on sampling" as if the death of sampling due to stricter copyright laws was a good thing and not literally one of the worst things to happen in the history of music which nearly destroyed several primarily black music genres. Of course this is anecdotal because it's just One Guy I Saw Once, but you can see what I mean about how uncritical support for copyright law as a tool against AI can lead people to adopt increasingly regressive ideas about copyright.

Similarly, I've seen at least one person go "you know what? Collages should be considered art theft too, fuck you" over an argument where someone else compared AI art to collages. Again, same point as above.

Similarly, I take issue with the way a lot of people seem EXTREMELY personally invested in proving AI art is Not Real Art. I not only find this discussion unproductive, but also similarly dangerously prone to validating very reactionary ideas about The Nature Of Art that shouldn't really be entertained. Also it's a discussion rife with intellectual dishonesty and unevenly applied definition as standards.

When a lot of people present the argument of AI art not being art because the definition of art is this and that, they try to pretend that this is the definition of art the've always operated under and believed in, even when a lot of the time it's blatantly obvious that they're constructing their definition on the spot and deliberately trying to do so in such a way that it doesn't include AI art.

They never succeed at it, btw. I've seen several dozen different "AI art isn't art because art is [definition]". I've seen exactly zero of those where trying to seriously apply that definition in any context outside of trying to prove AI art isn't art doesn't end up in it accidentally excluding one or more non-AI artforms, usually reflecting the author's blindspots with regard to the different forms of artistic expression.

(However, this is moot because, again, these are rarely definitions that these people actually believe in or adhere to outside of trying to win "Is AI art real art?" discussions.)

Especially worrying when the definition they construct is built around stuff like Effort or Skill or Dedication or The Divine Human Spirit. You would not be happy about the kinds of art that have traditionally been excluded from Real Art using similar definitions.

Seriously when everyone was celebrating that the Catholic Church came out to say AI art isn't real art and sharing it as if it was validating and not Extremely Worrying that the arguments they'd been using against AI art sounded nearly identical to things TradCaths believe I was like. Well alright :T You can make all the "I never thought I'd die fighting side by side with a catholic" legolas and gimli memes you want, but it won't change the fact that the argument being made by the catholic church was a profoundly conservative one and nearly identical to arguments used to dismiss the artistic merit of certain forms of "degenerate" art and everyone was just uncritically sharing it, completely unconcerned with what kind of worldview they were lending validity to by sharing it.

Remember when the discourse about the Gay Sex cats pic was going on? One of the things I remember the most from that time was when someone went "Tell me a definition of art that excludes this picture without also excluding Fountain by Duchamp" and how just. Literally no one was able to do it. A LOT of people tried to argue some variation of "Well, Fountain is art and this image isn't because what turns fountain into art is Intent. Duchamp's choice to show a urinal at an art gallery as if it was art confers it an element of artistic intent that this image lacks" when like. Didn't by that same logic OP's choice to post the image on tumblr as if it was art also confer it artistic intent in the same way? Didn't that argument actually kinda end up accidentally validating the artistic status of every piece of AI art ever posted on social media? That moment it clicked for me that a lot of these definitions require applying certain concepts extremely selectively in order to make sense for the people using them.

A lot of people also try to argue it isn't Real Art based on the fact that most AI art is vapid but like. If being vapid definitionally excludes something from being art you're going to have to exclude a whooole lot of stuff along with it. AI art is vapid. A lot of art is too, I don't think this argument works either.

Like, look, I'm not really invested in trying to argue in favor of The Artistic Merits of AI art but I also find it extremely hard to ignore how trying to categorically define AI art as Not Real Art not only is unproductive but also requires either a) applying certain parts of your definition of art extremely selectively, b) constructing a definition of art so convoluted and full of weird caveats as to be functionally useless, or c) validating extremely reactionary conservative ideas about what Real Art is.

Some stray thoughts that don't fit any of the above sections.

I've occassionally seen people respond to AI art being used for shitposts like "A lot of people have affordable commissions, you could have paid someone like $30 to draw this for you instead of using the plagiarism algorithm and exploiting the work of real artists" and sorry but if you consider paying an artist a rate that amounts to like $5 for several hours of work a LESS exploitative alternative I think you've got something fucked up going on with your priorities.

Also it's kinda funny when people comment on the aforementioned shitposts with some variation of "see, the usage of AI art robs it of all humor because the thing that makes shitposts funny is when you consider the fact that someone would spend so much time and effort in something so stupid" because like. Yeah that is part of the humor SOMETIMES but also people share and laugh at low effort shitposts all the time. Again you're constructing a definition that you don't actually believe in anywhere outside of this type of conversations. Just say you don't like that it's AI art because you think it's morally wrong and stop being disingenuous.

So yeah, this is pretty much everything I believe about the topic.

I don't "defend" AI art, but my opposition to it is firmly rooted in my principles, and that means I refuse to uncritically accept any anti-AI art argument that goes against those same principles.

If you think not accepting and parroting every Anti-AI art argument I encounter because some of them are ideologically rooted in things I disagree with makes me indistinguishable from "AI techbros" you're working under a fucked up dichotomy.

[sexlapis]

i know requests are closed and im sorry but i need this so i dont forget 💖 actor!toji looking at edits on live and hes like “so yall see me like this” and the fans go wild

actor!toji on live!

okay i’ll make an exception once.

𝜗𝜚 actor!toji (x implied gn!reader)

sfw, crack, tiktok (bc that’s it’s own warning), suggestive, horny toji fans, toji has reading glasses, petnames (‘kid’) he’s a little rude but when is he not :), old man toji <3

〆(・∀・) : me after not writing abt actor toji for like a month 😊🤗

masterlists

actor toji masterlist

*

“hey, everybody,” toji said, waving to camera as if he didn’t fumble and struggle in front of his fans for the past ten minutes trying to get his phone to stand up securely. he looks cute, dressed in a navy blue hoodie with nothing underneath and his dark hair was a messy mop atop his head.

now he just sits in his chair at his dining room table, watching the viewer count rise and rise to absolutely ridiculous numbers.

“fourty thousan-fifty thou-sixty thousand?! didn’t know i had so many fans..jesus christ…”

honestly, toji had no idea what he was doing and he was a tiny bit nervous. this was his first ever “live” (something that he did not know even existed until you told him) and he had no idea how to entertain his fans or what they really wanted. but they seem pleased with him just staring at the camera in confusion and admiring his handsome face.

toji proceeds to read some of the comments in the rapid moving chat of chaos. here, starts the beginning of his own demise.

many comments are sweet, kind, praising him for his talent and acting skills, some were just spamming their country flags and names, a rare male fan is asking to see his guns collection, others asking about his upcoming projects but the majority of them are…not exactly PG in the slightest.

toji’s eyes could bulge out of damn skull at some of the explicitly and complete shamelessness of his fans. he knew they found him attractive, but this was a whole other level of depravity.

“what the fuck…” toji whispers in awe, mouth agape as his eyes scan through the chat, his eyes being fed with the most desperate and thirsty comments he has even read, “you guys are sumthin’ else…”

his one sentence just pours fuel on the, already blazing and large, fire, the chat moving so fast that is starts to lag.

“why’d i even speak..”

he actually takes time to read each comment that he can see (and stomach) and one of them catches his eye.

“watch your edits on tiktok? i have edits? what’s an edit?”

the chat blows up even more, commenters begging and begging him to watch these…edits.

“alright, alright, i’ll watch these “edits”,” toji says to the camera, before pulling out another phone, one that is clearly quite old, jagged edges and a cracked camera, a raggedy phone case and just overall not in the best condition it could be in.

“‘what is that ancient ass device’ eh? this is my main phone,” he replies to a comment, showing his phone to the camera to his fans can see, “‘s fine, works perfectly. and it’s not “ancient”. it’s actually a nokia. pft, dumbass kids.”

toji can feel himself being flamed in the chat. even more so when he pulls out his reading glasses.

“yeah, ‘m fuckin’ old. jesus.”

he squints, scrolling on his beaten up phone with his index finger, “y’know, ion even really use tiktok, i only got it so _____ can send me videos of whatever the fuck. i swear, that kid sends me a million videos per day..” toji sighs, smiling at the thought of you, “ahh, they’re just so dumb.”

toji, after a long time of searching through trial and error and directions from his fans, eventually finds the search page of tiktok.

“alright, what’d i type in then? just ‘toji’? ‘toji fushiguro’?” he looks for answers in the chat, but find himself getting frustrated at the lack of actual responses to his question. he tuts, “i’m just gonna search ‘toji fushiguro edits’ and see what happens.”

he does just that and the results are…very interesting.

right in front of his very eyes are miles and miles of edits of himself, created by his fans, their depravity exposed for him to see, some of who were probably watching him at this very moment.

“jeeeeesus christ. ‘dunno what i even expected, honestly,” he scrolls through them, audios changing constantly as he does so, his eyes wide and wondering, “i’m actually impressed…”

toji pressed on one, and he watches it, the edit flashing in the reflection of his glasses as he watches. his open mouth slowly turns into a smirk of amusement and all out disbelief, the audio of the video being something about… ‘needing someone older’?

“so you guys see me like this?” he asked, expression incredulous and he breathes out a small chuckle, “buncha little fuckin’ freaks.”

the chat seems to like that. a lot.

his chat is once again flooded with comments from hell…hell for people driven purely by lust, that is.

toji huffs, “how old is this person anyway?”

he seemingly clicks on the account and reads their username. well, almost.

“‘tojis little cu-woah!” he almost drops his phone out of his hand, jaw on the floor, “how old are you! sixteen?! toji looks to the camera, eyebrows furrowed before slamming his phone on the table and pointing at his fans through the screen, “go do your homework! and be in bed by nine. actually, no scratch that, eight! christ…sixteen years old, oh my god…”

he continues to mutter to himself, completely baffled at how some of his fans are so young and just so…out of their minds. his skin crawls at the thought of a sixteen year old liking him in such a way.

toji shivers, “god, where are your parents?” he questions and continues to search through the edits, before finding one that looks safe, innocent and PG.

he was proven wrong however, when the audio was a woman rapping about being put in full nelsons-

“okay, that’s enough!” he slams his phone down again on the table, “i’ve seen enough,” and then he reaches for the camera, not even caring about his viewers. he mutters a, “crazy fuckin’ kids” before abruptly ending his “live” and going to take a nap.

*

the next day, you have sent him over ten videos on tiktok, all of them being edits of him from the day of the live, most of them containing the clip of when he called his fans, quote, a “buncha little fuckin’ freaks” unquote.

toji sighs at them, secretly entertained that you must be watching these deviant edits of him too.

*

〆(・∀・) : no i have not forgotten abt actor toji

taglist: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz | @uzxotic | @1meshugge1 | @kunikuzushisbeloved (sorry some could not be tagged for some reason </3)

#actor!toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji crack #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro fluff #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x you #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you

[jazzyoranges]

Can I humbly request Wednesday x winged reader? Like idk they have angel wings or bird wings or something

Maybe fluff with some angst/comfort >:D

Thanks for entertaining me

Feathers

young!Wednesday Addams x young!fem!reader

Summary: your parents fight. you don’t know where to go, so you run to your favorite Addams

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, domestic violence, implied alcoholic, toxic relationship (R’s parents), soft ooc Wednesday

A/n: R is a raven btw :) also don’t ask why Wednesday thinks and talks like a depressed poet at 7/8 yrs old. she’s just experiencing some big emotions 😞

You ran as fast as your little legs could take you. There wasn’t an exact location you were running to, but somehow you knew where you’d end up. Tears left your eyes and a few feathers had been plucked from your gorgeous wings. The night air sent shivers down your spine but you refused to look back. You never wanted to look back.

Tired, cold, and sleepy, the Addams Mansion finally came into view. It’s brambly trees threatened to scratch and pull at your skin, but you happily greeted the forest you’ve come to love. It reminded you of your favorite Addams.

The whistle of trees beckoned you away, but you fought against their singing and continued to the front of the mansion. You loudly knock against the large door, and a butler you recognize so dearly groans behind it.

“Mr. Lurch!” Your small voice cut through the dark night.

What anyone else would assume to be a groan of annoyance, you knew was one of confusion. Lurch takes one good look at you and scoops you into his arms, as if you weighed absolutely nothing. His feet thumped against the floors of the mansion and you could only assume he was taking you to the owners of the terrifyingly beautiful home.

Mrs. Addams and Mr. Addams who’ve you known so well, sit in their living room while Morticia reads a book about who knows what to her husband. He listens intensely with love in his eyes until Lurch’s thumps bring you to the married couple.

“(Y/n)? Lurch, why have you brought us Miss (L/n)?” Gomez questions, while Morticia goes into mother mode immediately. She takes you from Lurch’s arms and thanks him as he pats you on the head before leaving.

“(Y/n), dearest. Who’s caused you such harm?”

Your eyes fill with tears as you recall what happened.

“D-Daddy, he-“

Your father came home angry. Angrier than usual. You tried to hug him, but he pushed you away for the fridge instead. Your lip quivered while you ran to your mother, and she had an angry expression when you told her.

You felt so bad for telling on Daddy. He… he did love you! He did! He was just a little sad for some reason. You decided maybe Daddy just needed space.

You were supposed to be asleep when Mommy and Daddy started fighting. Daddy said a lot of mean stuff. Something about how he wished he was never with Mommy... surely he didn’t mean it! He said something about how you were a mistake, but Daddy didn’t mean it! Right? Daddy loved you…

You didn’t realize you were crying until a small hiccup escaped your throat, and your parents spun around to look at your pained expression from the stairs. You felt bad Mommy and Daddy were fighting. Your father tried to comfort you by closing in for a hug, but you didn’t want a hug. Like how Daddy didn’t want a hug earlier.

You pushed the man away, and he made a scary face. You wished you could say he wasn’t your daddy, but only your daddy’s voice could be so scary. Turning to hide in your room, he grabs at your right wing to keep you close.

It hurt a lot.

But as fast as it hurts, it stops and you look behind you. With a fist full of your dark feathers, your mother slams your father into the stairs. What she actually says are a little muffled to you, but you get the idea after she points to a nearby window.

You try to fly, but the difference in feathers throws you off balance. You manage to glide down from the second story, but not without an ungraceful landing.

You didn’t know where to go.

“A-And then Mommy told me t’run away. B-But I didn’t know where t’go…”

“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry.” Morticia shares a concerned look with her husband, and he immediately springs into action. Gomez grabs his coat and is out the door in less than a second.

“How about we get you cleaned up, would you like that?” You nod.

Morticia brings you to one of the many bathrooms of the mansion, and sits you down on the toilet seat lid. She soaks a towel with warm water to wash your muddied face and clean off any cuts you might’ve had. Both of you fall into a comfortable silence.

—

There’s an ache in Wednesday’s soul she can’t place. It’s kept her up for hours, and sleep hasn’t been able to take her away just yet. Wednesday had paced circles in her room with only the moon as a light, yet her ache has yet to subside.

Only when Wednesday hears the front door open, she knows she’s found the reasoning for the ache. With feather-light steps, the young Addams creeps down to where she can hear talking.

What Wednesday doesn’t expect is the face of her best friend crying and whimpering. It takes everything inside of her to not run in and steal you away. Instead, she listens to your story.

You tell the older Addams woman about what happened, and Wednesday’s blood starts to boil. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve that atrocity of father. Wednesday can’t continue listening to your story or she’ll commit unforgivable crimes not even you would approve of.

Wednesday creeps back up into her room. She’s really not getting any sleep until she knows for sure you’re safe and with her. Wednesday was awfully aware of how little power she had at her age, but that didn’t stop the young Addams from formulating a plan. Specifically, a plan to make you feel better. (and maybe a plan to get revenge on your disgrace of a father, but that’d have to wait)

Wednesday decided to make her move when her bathroom light was turned on just near her bedroom. She decided to pay you a visit.

“Mother.” Wednesday appeared behind Morticia, her monotone voice causing you to jump the slightest.

“Wednesday, dear, unable to sleep?”

“Someone had been keeping me up, and I think I know who.” The younger girl peers over her mother’s shoulder to meet your curious gaze. You flush in embarrassment and look at the ground.

“Sorry I woke you up, Wens… I didn’t mean to come here so late”

“Sleep in my room.”

“Wednesday, are you sure you’ll be able to sleep with company?”

“Her safety directly corresponds with my sleep schedule.”

“If you insist, my little death.” Morticia sighs. “You two go straight to bed now, hm?”

You nod before getting up off the toilet seat lid. Before you enter Wednesday’s room, Morticia stops you. She bends down to reach your height.

“Don’t you worry about Mommy and Daddy, dear. Mr. Addams and I have all of it covered. You just have sweet nightmares tonight, alright?” There’s nothing but kindness and worry in her voice. Morticia stands up, and you give her a quick hug before she leaves. The older woman feels her heart melt.

You sit on Wednesday’s bed just like you have countless times before. The moonlight illuminates you perfectly, Wednesday thinks. She wasn’t one for holy comparisons, but nothing described you better than an angel of death.

With a halo made of the moon and wings darker than hell, you were no less than ethereal.

“Wens?” Your voice snaps the Addams out of her thoughts.

“What happened to your wing?”

“Uhm… can I tell you tomorrow? I’m sleepy” You emphasize your point with a yawn

“I understand, let’s sleep.” Wednesday nods, and you move over to make some room on the bed.

Wednesday has been in this exact position many times before, but somehow this time felt different. Perhaps it was the fact there’s a blatant elephant in the room, or the fact she knows the reason due to your escape from home. Either way, something was different.

You were basically passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow, leaving Wednesday with her own thoughts as she watched you sleep. The younger Addams ran her fingers through your right wing, successfully finding the patchy spot.

Your face contorts into something like pain and fear, and Wednesday quickly pulls her hand away. She didn’t mean to hurt you. When your pained expressions continue, Wednesday knows you’re having a nightmare. And not an enjoyable one.

Almost like second nature, Wednesday pulls you into her arms. Your wing falls atop her like a blanket, and you seem to go back to uneventful sleep. Even unconscious, you hold the Addams like you’re awake.

Wednesday is finally met with sleep when she could press a hand against your chest and feel the rhythmic thumping of your heart.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x y/n #wednesday (2022) #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x you #morticia addams #gomez addams #lurch addams

[lonelystarrs]

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐬 .prt 1

𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑆𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑢

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Suguru was the calm and Satoru was the storm, you either had to learn to sail the sea or abandon ship. Either way it wasn’t going to be easy.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI • smut • hurt/comfort • poly relationship • Angst • potential part two if this gets enough attention • cum play • semi public exposure • f/m only but read it how you want •

In all honesty you weren’t entirely sure how you ended up in this situation, it was all a blur and it all happened so fast that it was difficult to think about specific moments on how you’d gotten involved with Gojo and Geto like this.

The only stages you remembered was returning back to Japan, back to Jujustu Tech and Suguru becoming part of your life again.

Knowing him since you were both young, separating to grow up on difference sides of the planet and him taking you under his wing when you came back.

Everything always felt so calm, so natural with him and he’d grown up too well, dark locks tied into bun with that stray lock you just wanted to twirl around your finger. He was beautiful.

The chaos soon arrived in the form of Satoru Gojo, who seemed to hate you at first —at least it felt like that, always rolling his eyes, flippant towards you in ways that made you feel he hated you. Trying to avoid having you around Geto, acting like you weren’t really needed when he was there. It wasn’t until he started whining about you taking up too much of Suguru’s time did you realise that it wasn’t hate.

It was jealousy.

Blue eyes would watch with an expression you couldn’t quite pick apart, but the conflict in them were obvious.

So to get back at him with his shitty, annoyingly childishly behaviour you’d flirt harder with Suguru, physically be with him in ways that made Gojo shut the fuck up and sulk.

However, Satoru wasn’t easily defeated, Suguru wasn’t giving up on you either and it didn’t take him long to come to a resolve that he should be allowed into the scenario.

He should be allowed to share.

He’d push his dessert towards Suguru and you, suggesting that you shared it with him because he was selfless and willing to split something in enjoyed between you all.

Then asking if you both wanted to try his lollypop he’d been sucking on.

Apparently you were both supposed to understand his underlining messages in his weird attempt to suggesting that you should be shared.

It was how you became an object for them, they didn’t word it like that but it was how you were starting to feel lately.

Just something in the middle of them to hold the balance because the bridge between them was rocky at times. You brought together what they couldn’t, Satoru’s conflicting closeness for Suguru disappeared with you.

Truthfully it started fine, but the distance started to form when you’d catch Satoru with other girls flirting and numbers stuffed into his pockets.

It didn’t make sense, why ask to be part of something then continue to seemingly keep his options open?

It stirred something heavy, yet hollow in your chest that surged through your veins until a voice was screaming at you to distance yourself from them. It made you question the entire situation and perhaps it wasn’t as serious to them as you thought.

You weren’t officially theirs and clearly they weren’t yours, at least nothing ever official was spoken about, Satoru still flaunting himself eagerly was proof of that and it only solidified your assumptions as of late.

You didn’t feel like theirs, no matter how many times they chanted ownership over you before post nut clarity hit painfully.

There’s only so many times that delusion can work her magic and it was starting to fade into the harsh reality that this wasn’t healthy —it wasn’t going to end well and your natural defence was to try create some distance. Hoping they’d find something else to keep them entertained and just let you fizzle out, it avoided communication sure, but it meant you didn’t have to hear that this was nothing but sex.

But distance was near impossible to achieve with Gojo Satoru involved, he was needy and his tongue circled your clit in a way that made your mind blank, knocking the heavy doubt from your chest. Your heart pounding in your ribs as he gripped your hips so tightly you knew they’d bruise.

He was eating you out with such desperation you’d think his life was dependant on it, you could hear him damn well slurping, sucking and it was lewd. Usually he teased, taunted or took his time but he was borderline feral as he messily ate you out today, it was uncoordinated with no pattern.

The only thing silencing you was Suguru’s cock pushing further down your throat until he felt that restraint of muscle pop to let his dick through. He balanced himself by pressing his hands to the desk under you on either side of your ribs, no longer needing them to guide his dick.

A long airy moan of relief leaving him feeling your throat around him, precum smeared across your lips and chin because he’d been lightly tapping his cock there to ask for access.

This was supposed to be a simple mission split between you all, it was easier to divide and take down the three curses residing here.

You were supposed to go report to the Yaga after this, not taking any longer than needed but the curtain was still up. Gojo and you dealing with your targets first, him pushing you towards a desk in the abandoned classroom until Geto appeared. Sliding the door open to watch as his fellow strongest buried his face between your legs.

“You’re too greedy, Satoru.” Suguru breathed a moan as he half leaned over your body on the desk, pushing his cock to the hilt and you gagged a bit. He was watching as Satoru’s openly tongued your clit and swirled it, spit and slick mixing into a glisten covering his mouth. Your hips trying to roll but larger hands held you down, firmly, thumbs rubbing soothing circles.

Satoru had turned the chair in front to face the desk you were on, literally taking a seat to eat. His thumbs rubbing in circles over your thighs as they twitched and tried to tighten.

“She tastes s’good though,” he slurred against you giving a particularly rough swirl with his tongue, “-she’s cum s’much as well.”

Blue eyes finally looked up only to see your head tilted back on the desk, Suguru’s hands planted either side of your ribs as he leaned over you and his cock bulging down your throat. Gojo moaned into you as he watched it flex in you.

“Shit, Suguru I can see your dick in her throat, she’s takin’ it so well.” Gojo moaned against you, lips moving against your pussy with each letter, pushing his fingers into the hilt and spreading them inside you. Pressing his tongue flat against you as he spread you open, licking a thick strip up past your clit until he was making his way up your body.

He stopped when he reach your throat that bulged with Suguru’s cock. Pressing his lips to it for a kiss, before pressing his tongue against it, Suguru’s hand moved up to grip his white hair encouraging him to press his tongue harder against it.

“Yeah? Feel it Satoru?”

He flexed his cock down your throat again, purposely this time as if to physically aid his question, the movement felt against Gojo’s tongue causing him to moan and nod his head. Fingers leaving you he fisted his own dick for a few pumps before he pressed the thick tip to your entrance.

“Hey, you good?” Suguru’s soothing voice filtered through the arousal, bringing some clarity before Gojo made his move.

Geto pulled his hips back, giving you the opportunity to inhale as he watched your chest heave, the spit linking from his cock to your tongue until it broke. Gojo’s hands placed either side of your hips as he angled his hips, pressing his thick head to spread your entrance.

Geto always being the more observant one, took in your condition, ribs heaving to bring in more air to your lungs, eyes dazed and glazed over, your body twitching as Satoru inched his way past your tight hole.

“Hold it Satoru-“ Suguru’s hands cupped the back of your head gently making you lean up to meet his eyes. Your name leaving his lips so smoothly it almost made you groan, it was enough to focus your eyes back on his and a small smile twitched at his mouth looking down at you past his cock.

“Welcome back,” humming in response to Suguru you shifted, rolling your hips so Satoru inched himself in further, his fingers curling into a fist either side of your hips against the desk beneath you as he exhaled pushing himself forward. His mouth hung ajar as he fixed his eyes on the side of his dick disappearing into your cunt with a wet sound, seeing you spread to accommodate him.

“S-shit, pretty you’re so tight. It hurting to take this big cock? Feels like it,” Satoru’s charming taunt with a groan only made you tighten around him and his hips stuttered, airy moan leaving him mixed with a chuckle.

You shifted uncomfortably as you stood in front of Yaga at Jujustu Tech to report back on the mission.

The discomfort was due to Satoru having stolen your panties claiming he’d lost them and you feeling the warmth leaking down your legs as your body hummed in a pleasant ache.

It didn’t match the hollow feeling in your chest now the high from sex had left.

Satoru found it hilarious as mixed cum had started to dribble down your legs and you tried to squeeze your thighs together to stop it, worried someone would see. He casually leaned down, those gangly ass arms of his easily reaching the back of your thigh, only to push it back up your legs, past your skirt to your pussy and back in your swollen hole from behind.

Your hips lurched forward and a strangled noise left you. Suguru stood slightly in front of you and held his hand out behind him to support you.

“What is wrong with her?” Yaga questioned, attention drifting to see you with your head down hidden behind Suguru.

“Nothing, she got injured but she’s fine.” Suguru covered for you both, keeping his calm facade up as he stared forward to answer the questions.

Satoru leaned forward, his lips grazed your ear as he whispered.

“Eh? Don’t waste it, told you to keep it all in didn’t I? C’mon you were so good for us earlier.”

“What was that, Gojo?”

“Nothin’ I’m just makin’ sure she’s okay!”

“Can uh-“ you cleared your throat as the words came out choked, Satoru’s finger leaving you to place his hand on the small of your back, “-can I go home now if we’re done?”

“Nah, gotta go see Shoko before I can take you back.”

“Gojo I wanna go home, I’m fine. Just need to rest.”

The six eyes pouted at your use of his last name, taking a more formal approach with him compared to earlier, quickly masking it by swinging an arm over your shoulders unable to read the actual mood, Suguru however had noticed.

He seen you tense when the six eyes arm embraced you, pulling you into his side playfully and grinning like nothing was wrong.

It didn’t make sense, how could you flinch like it made you uncomfortable? It’s a stark difference considering they were just the two guys that had fucked you in an abandoned school.

“Oh yeah? Fine, I’ll drop ya back then!”

Your eyes widened realising what he was about to do and Suguru only heard half your sentence before you were cut off, disappearing as Satoru teleported you back to your home.

Left to stare at the spot you both were, with a small frown on his face.

Since when did you start looking uncomfortable around them?

“You boys are around her a lot. Is there something you need to tell me, Suguru?”

Satoru didn’t just drop you back and leave —of course he didn’t.

He’d teleported right into your dorm room, hands grabbing the back of your thighs and lifting you up to his waist.

Lips pressing wetly against your neck as he left sloppy kisses in his path, walking towards your bed before dumping you on it with a bounce.

“Gojo-“

His knee separated yours, knocking them apart and he groaned as his eyes peered over the rims of his glasses to look at your poor swollen pussy, cum leaking from it.

“Damn, that’s- shit that’s so hot.” Blue eyes fixated on you leaving you to feel a little self conscious and you tried to close your legs, repeating his name.

Satoru clicked his tongue, eyes leaving to meet up with yours.

“Gojo?” He repeated, some cocky smirk twitching at his lips “-c’mon it’s Toru to you, you forgot already huh? Well, I guess I have time to remind you.”

It was hard to ignore the pulses to your clit, throbbing to be touched again when he pulled open his uniform, seeing your nail marks still down his sides from earlier, the outline of his cock hard under his trousers that slapped up against his six pack when he released it.

Wrapping a hand around himself he fucked his fist for you, his mouth falling agape slightly his hips twitching from still being sensitive.

He never done anything alone with you, in fact Suguru never had either it was always both of them, never one alone and it made your heart kick against your ribs.

His patience ran its course and he leaned forward to rip your shirt off in one clean motion, buttons flying across the room. Hand pressing to your shoulder he pushed you back to lean onto your elbows as he crawled onto the bed, your knees automatically rising to his sides tucking under his armpits.

Gojo rubbed his cock against your clit, your hands reaching up to remove his glasses from his face and discard them to the side.

The stretch hurt, pussy still sore from taking them both earlier but it was almost forgotten with how deeply Satoru looked into your eyes as he filled you again.

“S’it, you’re taking it so well pretty girl-“ his praise was unusual, it wasn’t so direct like this and you hated how it made you clench around him, how he made your heart flutter in your chest, “-oh? You like the praise huh? A praise and degradation kink? Think we hit the jackpot with you hmm?”

He laughed when you clenched around him again, burying himself to the hilt he snuggled in his face into your neck, panting against your skin his voice moany as he spoke.

“Our girl,” he mumbled, rotating his hips in a swirl that had you crying out, “-ours.”

He stayed so close to you, it was almost loving, but you couldn’t be sure because Satoru had never slept with you without Suguru. But it felt loving, every thrust was slow but hard, your body jolting with each thrust as his sticky balls slapped against your ass. His kisses so wet and sloppy between moaning against your skin.

“You -hah- you have any fucking idea how good you feel? Still full of our cum? Oh damn, it’s so hot knowing I’m using it to fuck ya -you’re filth.“

You cried out to him as you came, babbling into his shoulder pathetically because it was all too much, tears spilled from your eyes as you hung onto him for dear life.

Scared of falling into the overwhelming emotion that started to course through you, that doubt in him starting to wash away with each loving thrust, each word of praise against your skin.

Those feelings you tried to bury for him, tried to avoid surfaced as he kissed your tears away praising you further over the wet squelching of his cock fucking into you.

“It’s so damn sloppy,” He whined into your neck as his thrusts started turning sloppy and desperate, a delay between each hard slap.

When he came again it was hard, he whined in a way you’d never heard and his body stuttered above you, losing his strength to hold himself up as he let himself almost flop onto you. Panting into your ear as his hips jolted, pressed up to your hips as his cock flexed inside you, cum somehow still spitting out his dick into your cunt filling you again.

“I’m still damn cumin’ -fuck.”

Lifting your hips your rotated them and clenched around him, only making his body stutter —struggling to fight the overstimulation and he bit down onto your neck to the point of breaking the skin and leaving a bloody mark.

When the dust settled you didn’t find yourself crashing as usual, the usual high of being with them both remained as his loving behaviour suddenly gave you a hint of faith —maybe this could work. Maybe you needed to spend time with them alone to build something more meaningful because this felt different.

Gojo rolled over onto his back uncaring about the mess on him, you or what was now staining your sheets, a heavy sigh leaving him.

“Heyyy, you’re too far away,” he whined a little at the end, patting the space next to him and you ignored that feeling of flight trying to surface, you went to him and pressed against his side.

Everything started to feel right, to feel calm until that vibrate of a phone buzzed into the floor where Gojo had left his pants.

“Baaaaabe, make it stop.”

“It’s probably important Gojo, you should answer it.”

“Gojo again? You really like winding me up huh?” He playfully pinched at your nipple which made you laugh, beaming a goofy grin at you, blue eyes glistening watching your reaction before rolling them as the phone started to ring yet again.

“If you get it, I’ll answer it deal?”

“You too weak to get up? Thought you were the strongest,”

“Mmm, it appears I have been defeated by vagina, worth it though, she takes me like a champ.”

You cringed at him which earned you a cackle, shifting off the bed you hooked your foot under his trousers to pull it to you and grab it, shuffling the material until you found his phone that vibrated as a new text bar came through.

Your heart falling to the floor just like the bit of crumpled paper with a number also from is pocket that pulled out with the phone. A little love heart drawn next to the name and the same girls name lighting up the screen of his phone in texts next to notifications of Suguru’s missed calls.

All that hope, the comfort of finally starting to feel positive about this again, all crushed within the space of ten minutes. A short high lived only to plummet to the floor like a star dying out from the sky.

Between them, it wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t somewhere you could stay.

And you knew what you had to do.

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

Part two is up for debate! -I won’t be doing a tagging system so please don’t ask, hitting the follow button will be your way of keeping updated :) don’t just comment asking for a part two without leaving any feedback —if you demand for part two without any effort back don’t be surprised if you’re met with a dry response or none. It’s rude.

If you reblog please leave some feedback or words/tags… it really means a lot & inspires us to write more! <3 I read every one and it makes us feel part of something after the time it all takes! :)

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #gojo x reader

[olderthannetfic]

Getting this off my chest:

Back from a small fanfic hiatus, and I am absolutely flabbergasted by all of the fic authors now practically begging their readers to READ THE TAGS.

I’ve been seeing this warning written in summaries, in author’s notes, highlighted in all caps in the actual tags. I’ve read so many apologies written by authors in the comments in response to people chastising the author for writing what they wanted to write, for what they tagged correctly — for what essentially comes down to nothing more than having had other people actively ignore their tags or read despite them.

And there seems to be this bizarre, somehow largely accepted idea that it is the creators job and responsibility to beseech their readers to ‘use caution’ and to ‘stay safe’, to ‘be mindful of their health’…

I am beyond confused here.

Since when??? did exercising the most basic form of common sense and acknowledging one’s personal yeas and nays, likes and limitations, become some other random stranger’s burden rather than one’s own? And especially a random person who tagged their work correctly??? Does no one remember how to harness their own powers of discernment and self-regulation???

This little jaunt back onto ao3 has been unlike any that I’ve ever experienced before. What. Happened?????? Who is this new, apparently severely emotionally unstable and obstinately tags-reading resistant audience everyone has come to focus on?

It all feels so out of touch. The basic concept of ao3 is for the reader to seek out what they want, not what they don’t want. And to actually read. But there seems to have been an extremely strong shift away from reading. On ao3. A site built specifically for reading and writing. (And other fandom artistic pursuits, but not my focus, atm; though I’m sure whatever this is has crept steadily into all spaces there.)

Plummeting reading comprehension must be somewhat to blame; the popularity of fanfic amongst younger and wider audiences, as well. But… young people have always been there, as far as my own experiences go, and it was never like this. It’s as if too many readers don’t know how to make good or even practical decisions for themselves anymore, that they’ve lost the skill of choosing, and now believe that they must consume everything that passes before them; — that they have, for some reason, adopted the belief that any turmoil or dislike or discomfort felt within themselves is harm purposely being done to them by the author.

Idk. Idk, idk, idk. It’s just such a bummer to see how much nervousness and distress has entered the community. Authors notes and comments used to be hilarious fun, or a peek into someone else’s real-life world, used to be casual and full of personality, whereas nowadays, there seems to be an underlying hesitancy and distrust, a sort of growing divide between writers and readers, groups which, until recently, very much were not mutually exclusive.

--

Idiots have been around forever. The more you cater to them, the more entitled they get. It's best to shut that shit down fast and use no warnings that indicate a willingness to entertain stupid complaints.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi ! So I had an idea for a Matthew Patel x reader fanfic, where the reader is playing Ramona in his Scott Pilgrim musical, and when they have to kiss for the play, in front of the whole theatre, they see sparks, but can't talk about it until the play is over. Like realizing they're in love or something, I hope I explained it well- thanks<3

"🎶 Howwww do I tell him my exes are evil?🎶"

Standing alone on the stage, you sang your heart out to the adoring audience, the spotlight shining down upon you and your dyed rainbow hair.

You weren't even nervous about performing for Scott Pilgrim's Precious Little Musical anymore. Everything seemed to come naturally the moment it came time for your soliloquy as Ramona Flowers.

Indeed, for the play you were starring as her, with your first solo number being an emotional lament on the inevitability of Scott fighting all seven of the evil exes in order to date you freely.

It seemed silly when you read the script for the first time...but now?

You were absolutely killing it, as you could hear a few cheers from the crowd.

Even Ramona herself was sitting there, looking quite entertained by your reenactment of her...whereas the real Scott Pilgrim was right next to her, appearing the exact opposite. He just seemed really confused and annoyed..

But you couldn't blame him for feeling somewhat mocked considering he was presumed dead after his fight with Matthew--only to suddenly come back without much of an explanation and realize this musical was all about him.

Speaking of whom, he probably felt more insulted by Ramona's actual first evil ex starring as him, wearing his coat and a ridiculous orange wig that hardly looked anything like his own hair.

Nevertheless, his other friends and all the Exes seemed to be genuinely enjoying the show. Some even teared up at your incredible acting skills and moving singing voice.

Among them was Matthew, who was hanging out backstage and preening himself until it was time for his cue.

You two have been friends for a long time, even before he knew the League was something that existed. Being theatre kids, you two were more than eager to get this musical to take off..and maybe get it on Broadway itself if the opening night was received well.

So far..it was being received extremely well. Every other actor knew their lines and sang flawlessly, putting their heart and soul into each performance just as you and Matthew did.

Although....there were a few minor hiccups--such as the part where him, Scott, Ramona, some of their friends, and the remaining Exes were all mysteriously warped out of the theater by a red portal. But they eventually returned and everyone figured it was part of the play, so it continued on without a hitch.

During one of the final acts, there was a "special" scene planned that you and Matthew have only 99% rehearsed...

Because the other 1% had to be done right the first time. It was the most highly-anticipated part of this musical:

The kiss.

One that proved Ramona truly loved Scott, forever securing their happily ever after.

When it came time for the scene, the stage darkened everywhere, with the light only shining down on you and "Scott". He took a deep breath as he turned to you, taking your hands into his own, wearing a gentle smile.

You both stared into each other's eyes for a long time, soft piano music playing in the background.

Your heart was thumping in your chest, as was Matthew's as you two tried to focus on your line delivery and nothing else.

"Ramona?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"...I love you."

"I love you, too. You saved me. Saved our relationship..and I could never thank you enough."

"Hah, I should be the one thanking you...because I finally stood up for myself, and for us!"

"Oh, Scott.."

At that point, some of the spectators began to chant for the kiss--with Wallace being the loudest, of course--and you could only smile bashfully, not realizing how fast this part came up until now.

Yet for some reason, Matthew appeared unusually nervous, red rising to his cheeks as he squeezed your hands rather tightly. You didn't know why he was acting this way, considering you've seen him do kiss scenes in past plays.

But you figured that since this was his first major theater performance, he was only nervous about wanting everything to be perfect. So you gave him a reassuring nod that said "it's okay, you can do this."

Fortunately, he seemed to understand, as a moment later he pulled you into a passionate kiss, lips crashing against yours.

The volume of the applause and cheering grew tenfold; some people even gave you a standing ovation even though the play was nowhere near over.

They loved it.

They absolutely loved it.

And honestly? You kinda liked kissing Matthew in front of everybody, partially wishing this wasn't just for the play..

But while the special effects team went to work recreating the "spark phenomenon" with glitter, confetti, and more....there was something going on between you and him that nobody else could see:

The real sparks that manifested after you both parted.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you watched them fade away, before looking at him.

Judging from his face, you knew that he most definitely saw them, too.

You've been skeptical of the sparks in the past, as you've dated several people yet never saw them at all.

So...why were you only seeing them now? And why with Matthew, of all people?

Did it have something to do with you dressing up like his ex-girlfriend?

Or was he finally looking beyond that curtain and discovering that he actually loved you?

Regardless, now wasn't the time to be thinking about any of that stuff, as you noticed he was slowly going off-script...something that you've never seen happen before. His hands shook and he seemed to forget his mic was still on.

"S-Sparks.." He stammered out, still giving you a wide-eyed stare.

"I...guess there were sparks, after all." You hastily salvaged the situation with a small laugh, putting your improv skills to work. "I never believed in such things until I met you, Scott Pilgrim."

After the lights dimmed, the cheering persisted as you grabbed his hand and half-dragged him backstage. By that point he seemed to have snapped out of his trance, deciding to scramble to prepare for the final musical number with everyone in the cast coming out.

But despite him returning to his snippy attitude with the makeup artists, he could barely look your way without blushing immensely...and quite frankly, you couldn't get rid of your smile.

'Shit..he's in love with me, I just know it..' You sighed as you sat comfortably in the chair, letting the wardrobe crew swap your dyed wig with a different colored one.

As badly as you both wanted to talk about what just happened...you knew it had to wait.

For the show must go on.

........

After the musical was finished, you changed your outfit and searched around backstage for Matthew, hoping you could finally discuss the sparks you both saw.

Soon you stumbled upon him, Gideon, and Julie...and for a moment, you were nervous.

Considering what happened between the two guys, you figured all hell was about to break loose--and apparently it almost did during the play since Gideon rigged the overhead area with dynamite. It was out of pure revenge for all of his assets being taken.

Yet it seems all was forgiven as they hugged it out, laughing with tears in their eyes, before Gideon and Julie walked away hand-in-hand.

Now that Matthew was finally alone, you had your chance.

"Since when did you two become besties?"

With a small yelp, he spun around quickly, relaxing as he realized it was only you. "Oh! Uh..no. I just...decided to give him back the company, and he let me keep the musical." He grinned, although it appeared rather forced. "That's all."

"I see.." You sighed, stepping closer to him. "Listen, we need to talk about-"

"I know." He answered bluntly. "I....saw them, too. And those weren't any special effects. They were legit."

"...are you sure about that?"

Matthew looked taken aback, as he just gawked at your question.

"Let me rephrase that," you cleared your throat. "I confess that I saw them because of you. The real you. But..I don't know if you saw them because of the real me."

"...I'm not following."

"Did you only see them because I looked like you ex-girlfriend?"

"N-No!" He nearly shouted, his cheeks flaring red as his stare remained intense. "I've moved on from her, I swear!"

Part of you remained skeptical yet. "I may need some convincing."

Before he could ask you why, you interrupted him by bringing him into a kiss this time. It initially shocked him, but he quickly melted into it, cupping your face in both of his hands.

Just like before, the sparks were there. Not as brilliant or explosive as the first time...yet they were all the proof you two needed.

Now you knew for sure that your love was real and true.

Matthew was quick to pull you back in for one more kiss after seeing them, desperate and wanting you as close as physically possible.

It probably would have escalated into a full-blown makeout session had you not heard the voices of the other Exes drawing nearer.

You immediately parted and saw them all standing there, looking utterly shocked at what they were witnessing. But you had no shame, instead smiling and waving to them as you held his hand.

"Great news, guys...G-Man's not the only one with a hot date anymore." You winked to your new boyfriend, whose ears turned red with embarrassment.

The group then smiled back, happy for your new relationship and trusting that you'll treat him with all the love and respect he deserved.

Before either of you knew it, you were being carried out of the theatre on the shoulders of Todd and Lucas, while the rest of the gang--along with Scott and Ramona--followed suit, eager to celebrate the play's success.

But tonight wasn't just about that.

It was also about what the future held in store for you and Matthew.

#clanask #anonymous #scott pilgrim x reader #scott pilgrim takes off x reader #spto x reader #matthew patel x reader #matthew patel #fluff

[cyberpunkhwx]

Afternoon coffee

❥ Paring: CEO! Song Mingi x employee reader

❥Genre: Drama, fluff, slightly suggestive towards the end

❥Warnings: nothing that I’m aware of, please let me know if you find any!

❥Summary: finally getting a job can be exhausting but what if there are ways to entertain yourself?

❥Word count: 0.6 k

❥Requested? No

"Ahh, I can't do this anymore" you signed as you just finished another paperwork that you got today. It's been only a week since you got a job at KQ. As a manager, it’s been more tiring than ever.

"Miss y/n, Mr. Mingi wants his afternoon coffee» «Yes sir" you went to make him his coffee and went to his office.

"Y/n, be careful, he doesn’t seem to be on his good mood today. One of the employees almost ruined his work" your friend said before letting you go inside. Well thanks to her now your heart is beating faster than ever.  

"Your coffee is ready Mr. Song."  

"Come in" his deep voice almost made you drop the coffee. Not today y/n, not today.

You took a deep breath as you slowly opened the door, stepping in.

He was sitting on the office chair, eyebrows tangled as he read through some paper, the sunlight coming through the window on his golden honey skin.

His suit was on the hanger as his hand was playing with the collar of his shirt, hair kind of messy cause of his glasses in it.

Your gaze caresses his features until they were on his chocolate eyes, which were....

..

...

LOOKING AT YOU?!

shitshitshitshitshit

His eyes were locked with yours, already lost focus on the pages he was reading, wondering about the girl who came in a minute ago, standing frozen.

"Are you going to bring the coffee, or should I ask someone else to do it" he said looking unbothered.

His voice woke you up as you made your way towards his desk, almost tripping on the way, feeling his gaze lowly on you.  

"Stupid heels" you thought, you still weren't used to these clothing since you started working there.

"Here's your usual Sir, is there anything else I could bring for you?" You asked about setting the coffee on his desk.

He ran a hand through his hair, fixing it as he put down the paper in his hands.

"Take these papers and give them to Mr. Choi, say I signed them" he said leaning back on his chair, sighing as he closed his eyes for a second. Stretching his arms out. You nodded as you leaned down to grab the papers, and dang. the stupid high heels.

You tripped on the left foot as you trying to balance yourself on the chair. But it didn’t work since you ended up there you were now.  

On your boss's lap.

On Mr. Songs’ lap

ON SONG MINGI'S LAP

You froze, couldn't do anything. Not like you could, the situation was a bit too awkward.

His arms still behind his head eyes wide open as he stared down at you. Lied side-way on his legs.

He cleared his throat as he slowly lowered his arms, slowly putting them on the arm beside him.

It took you a few seconds to realize what situation you're exactly in. You tried to get up, but it wasn't really easy because of his ling limbs keeping you away from the ground.  

Tall men🙄  

"I-I'm sorry sir I-"  

You tried getting up again but then you lost balance and almost fell off of his lap, before his fast reflexes helped and he wrapped his arms around you, securing you on his lap.

"How about you stay here Miss...?"

"Y-y/n"

"Well how about our Y/n stay here for a bit huh? I'll give Mr. Choi the papers later" he said smirking as he moved you on his lap, locking you in between his limbs.

"Well, maybe you needed a break after all. »

A/n: please let me how it was!

DO NOT copy or translate my work in any other place!

Ateez masterlist

#mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #ateez #kpop #atz #ateez x y/n #mingi ateez #mingi fanfic #mingi fluff #mingi smut #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #mingi reaction #ateez reaction #ateez reaction fluff #ateez reaction smu

[geoffrard]

My Chemical Romance, Hardcore Sexual Repression, and the Lemon Stealing Whore

[Content warning for non-graphic references to pornography, sex, sexual violence, and negative attitudes towards sex work. There is no explicit nudity but you might not want to read this in front of your boss. All images have descriptions in alt text. See sources here. Read this essay on my Dreamwidth here.]

It’s the setup of a joke: Gerard Way, Mikey Way, Frank Iero, Matt Pelissier, and a porn actress huddle around a leather couch in a dingy room as a camera rolls. The actress, a young and bright-eyed Joanna Angel, asks each member of My Chemical Romance in the room, “Do you guys watch porn?”

Most of us have seen the interview. If not, stop and watch it now, because nothing else I say will make sense otherwise. (And here, just for you, I’ve reuploaded the video with at least 10% more pixels. Watch below, or read a transcript here.)

The fact that My Chemical Romance, whose faces have decorated shirts at Hot Topic for over fifteen years, whose songs have saved lives and inspired memes, who all have wives and children, would end up associated with an alt porn website like Burning Angel often baffles fans watching the interview for the first time. 

For example, see these comments left on the original video uploaded to YouTube: 

These comments, though more than a few years old, generally represent how a lot fans understand the interview. Other people think it’s funny and perhaps a little out of left field, but don’t question how four members wound up on a porn site like Burning Angel. Both attitudes are a pretty typical example of the MCR fandom’s ignorance about the New Jersey hardcore scene, as well reflecting general weirdness about sex work. 

Since I cannot turn my historian brain off, I wanted to provide some of the extremely interesting historical context behind the video. The post I had originally planned to make very, very briefly outlined how MCR ended up being interviewed by Joanna Angel, founder and longtime CEO of Burning Angel. But the more I looked into it, the more I fell down a rabbit hole. This eventually turned into something of a mammoth manifesto about women and sexuality in the late 90s hardcore scene that gave My Chemical Romance and Joanna Angel careers. I will warn you: this is long. But it’s also important historical background information that rarely gets discussed at all—especially by MCR fans.

(So, with all that said, please feel free to ask any questions about anything I say here! Sources for will be posted on a different post which I will link at the end, and I have been quite thorough, though not as thorough as I could have been.)

Tl;dr: Joanna Angel came up in the exact same scene as My Chemical Romance, Thursday, and Midtown, a scene which stigmatized open sexual expression, at the expense of women and queer people—especially those involved in sex work. When she started her porn site, Burning Angel, she applied the same DIY values that her peers did to their own bands, but faced violence and ostracization from a subculture much too repressed to embrace such blatant expression of female sexuality. In this context, the My Chemical Romance interview with Burning Angel in 2004 was not only a group of guys doing a favor for someone they had probably known for years at that point; it can also be read as a somewhat controversial act that pushed back against this aversion to sexuality, and that helped legitimize and popularize both the site and Joanna Angel’s career. 

Burning Angel: the Movie (2005)

Say you’re a diehard My Chemical Romance fan in 2005—if you really want to watch your favorite band discuss their porn-viewing habits, you’ll have to travel to either your local adult entertainment store or go to the hardcore porn site BurningAngel.com and order their first DVD, appropriately titled Burning Angel: The Movie. Once you have the disc, you’ll have to fast forward through several sex scenes and interviews with other bands before you arrive at what you wanted: the actress who you’ve just seen in hardcore sex scenes asking Gerard, Frank, Mikey and Otter questions about their preferences in adult entertainment.

The DVD was Burning Angel’s first attempt at more professional pornography, and Joanna’s first foray into full participation in filmed, live-action sex. Joanna Angel would later go on to be one of the most well-known porn stars of our time—in Virgin Territory (2006), for example, she played a lemon stealing whore; you might have seen the video—and Burning Angel would be credited with the popularization of the “alt” porn genre, which broke from the exploitative mainstream porn model and typically featured models representative of subcultures.

But in 2005 her alt porn empire was still in its infancy, and Joanna was still struggling to rectify her recent full expulsion from the local New Jersey hardcore social scene with her enduring devotion to DIY values—and the fact that members of the sexually repressed subculture that had ostracized Joanna were her site’s target audience.

Joanna Angel on the Scene

Any thoughts of a future career in adult entertainment and the last name Angel were far from her mind when Joanna Mostov enrolled in Rutgers University in 1998. 

Though she often pushed back against the wishes of her religious orthodox Jewish family, the extent of her adolescent rebellion had ended at sneaking out to punk shows and getting piercings her mother wouldn’t approve of. At Rutgers, Joanna quickly became enmeshed in the New Brunswick hardcore scene, putting her in the same circles as a host of people whose names you might recognize: Geoff Rickly of Thursday (who ran hundreds of shows out of his basement), Gabe Saporta of Midtown and Cobra Starship, and Alex Saavedra of Eyeball Records. 

Geoff Rickly: Well, you know, the funny thing is that, at the time, Joanna, who would later go on to form Burning Angel and become a famous porn star in her own right, was playing in her goth bands with chelsea haircuts and the basement shows. Like, her local goth band would play. And they’d bring out people and stuff, and I’d put touring bands on that show, and so it’s funny to me how, weirdly, DIY punk hardcore scenes and porn had weird associations then. [source: Going Off Track: Geoff Rickly, 2012]

The NJ hardcore scene was close-knit enough that while she only has documented friendships with some of these people, she had to have crossed paths with most of them multiple times (for example, Joanna was at the show on December 31, 1998 where Thursday and Midtown played their first real sets). She went to every show she could and hosted some in her own basement. 

While we don’t necessarily have a written record of her friendship with Frank Iero and Mikey Way of My Chemical Romance, the fact that Joanna attended plenty of shows in the North Jersey area and also spent a lot of time at the Eyeball House (Alex was a close friend; and Pencey Prep was on his label) suggests that, at the the very least, Joanna, Frank, and Mikey were aware of each other’s presence in these early years. They were peers in the same scene, just as they were with everyone else who frequented the same venues or played in the same basements.

For years, the hardcore scene mattered to her more than anything else; it was her social life and what she based her values upon. 

Those hardcore values and a growing curiosity about her own sexuality lead Joanna to sex-positive feminist activism and a writing internship with Nerve.com, an online magazine which explored topics related to sex and romantic relationships. From there, her interest in expressing her own sexuality continued to develop.

[Suicidegirls in 2001]

So, in 2002, when her roommate and friend asked her if she wanted to start a porn site that offered more explicit content than sites like SuicideGirls, which featured punk aesthetics and band interviews but stayed away from anything more than simple nudity, Joanna agreed.

BurningAngel.com went live in April 2002. It wanted to do things differently than other porn sites. While not necessarily pushing the boundaries of beauty standards, the site used models who were beautiful but in a more approachable, average sense. Joanna has said that since she had little experience even watching porn prior to starting the site, she wanted the site to mimic the kind of sex she was having with actors who looked like the people she was having sex with. 

Joanna: When we started the website, it was a reflection of ourselves. It still is to this day. There's band interviews on the website, the style of girl that we use is not your average typical porn star and the personality on the website is a little bit different. All the members interact with each other, all of the girls have blogs and profiles, and people become friends with each other. It's more of a community and a reflection of a subculture rather than just being a website with content to jerk-off to and never think about again. [source: Complex: Interview: Joanna Angel Talks Alt Porn, Piracy, And Her Blow-Up Doll, 2011] 

[Burning Angel’s homepage in June 2002]

Hardcore Punk Reacts to Hardcore Porn 

Her longtime involvement in the scene and her application of DIY ethics to her porn business did not mean that the hardcore culture actively nurtured Joanna Angel’s career in porn. In reality, many parts of the scene were actively hostile towards Joanna and the site once Burning Angel went live.

This backlash isn’t incredibly surprising within the context of late 90s hardcore, a subculture that by and large refused to acknowledge sexuality of any kind. 

The sexual repression in hardcore reflected several different aspects of its culture: a negative perception of women active in the scene; a reaction against the violence of tristate hardcore in the early 90s; and, more than anything else, the general privilege of those involved in the underground.

Like Joanna, Geoff Rickly, and Frank Iero, most people involved in New Brunswick hardcore were enrolled at Rutgers, and white, middle-class male college students dominated the scene. For many of them, applying DIY values to their own lives meant distancing themselves from their socioeconomic upper-hand. Consequently, the scene as a whole developed an attitude of asceticism, rejecting anything that served no purpose beyond pleasure or personal enjoyment. (Of course, it was easy for them to reject their social privileges, especially when they could just as easily cast off their aesthetic of poverty and self-denial for an adulthood of relative comfort.)

To do anything just because you enjoyed it, or because it brought you happiness in the moment, was seen to be a betrayal of hardcore’s higher intellectual goals—and that included sex. You can see this trend, for example, in lyrics from NJ hardcore bands, which focused on things like political issues or childhood traumas instead of the common themes of sexual and romantic desire found in mainstream music.

Joanna spoke about finding comfort in the general sexual repression of the scene because of her own adolescent insecurities:

Joanna: Me being very sexually not advanced and insecure, [90s hardcore] was the perfect place for me, because I could ignore [sexuality]. I was getting older, I don’t know, I wanted to explore myself more. So I began to write these graphic sex stories. My roommate, Mitch, knew about it, and I remember him getting a kick out of it. [source: Turned Out A Punk #127: Joanna Angel (Burning Angel)]

For another salient example, Geoff Rickly of Thursday has spoken about his own struggles with the hardcore scene’s repression, especially in regards to the shame he felt about writing sexually explicit stories for pay:

Geoff Rickly: You have to think, this is the 90s punk scene. It's not now. Nobody would openly talk about sex in DIY punk. It was such a repressed PC time, where — I mean, a lot of that stuff is my heart, like the political activism that was still such a part of punk, and actually just giving a shit about things that matter, and modes of how you're doing what you're doing. Those things seemed to matter back then, and I appreciated that side, but it was also so uptight. So repressed. [source: Going Off Track: Geoff Rickly, 2012]

While its general aversion to sexuality might have been born out of an initial desire to reform the violent misogyny of other hardcore cultures, it created the conditions for certain social problems to go completely unaddressed. After all, how can you address the rampant misogyny, homophobia, and sexual violence in your community if any acknowledgement of sexuality is taboo?

(For a brief but interesting perspective on the impact of hardcore sexual repression upon queer people in the scene, check out Episode #4 of Geoff Rickly’s podcast Dark Blue, in which Steve Pedulla and Norman Brannon discuss their experiences as gay musicians in the scene.)

Of course, these issues aren’t confined to the New Jersey hardcore, nor were they unique to the late 1990s. This particular brand of sex-averse misogyny reflects important threads within the feminism of the time which villainized open female sexuality—especially when it concerned sex work. Left-leaning spaces like music undergrounds adopted this sex-negative, misogynistic attitude as a part of their feminism—not in opposition to it.

In particular, the Riot Grrrl movement of the late 80s/early 90s pushed back against a culture (and a subculture) that shamed women for publicly expressing their sexuality. Following that, early fanzines and performance practices addressed the mistreatment of sex workers in hardcore as one way that female bodily autonomy was limited and women’s bodies were policed. Bikini Kill frontwoman and Riot Grrrl pioneer Kathleen Hanna has spoken about her past in sex work, the hostility she endured for openly discussing it, and the importance of that experience in shaping the form of Riot Grrrl’s protest. 

Kathleen Hanna: “Whenever we were written about in the press, I wanted my sex-work history to be part of the description, because I wanted other women whom I danced at clubs with (and who never knew my real name) to see themselves reflected in some way. A lot of women who are doing music now have been sex-trade workers, prostitutes, dancers; I thought it was really important that I didn’t hide that. But I also didn’t want to glamorize that experience in being a super-cool thing in itself. I just wanted other women who work in the sex industry to remember that we can be sex-trade workers and be philosophers, writers, musicians, artists, or whatever. [Andrea Juno, Angry Women in Rock (1996)]

Riot Grrrl gained significant traction and nation-wide attention. In the decade or so after Kathleen Hanna and her peers catalyzed the movement, bands like Bikini Kill and Bratmobile remained incredibly popular, and likely contributed a lot to shifting attitudes towards sexuality in music subcultures. 

Still, these sex-negative attitudes prevailed among enough people involved in local underground scenes that, when Burning Angel launched in 2002 and Joanna started marketing it in local hardcore spaces, the site received a lot of attention—both good and bad. The positive attention fueled the site and allowed it to expand beyond just photographs, text interviews, and low-budget personal sex tapes that characterized its early content. 

However, the negative attention Joanna and her site received was vocal, targeted, and occasionally involved literal physical violence. As Kathleen Hanna had faced moral condemnation for her time in sex work, Joanna Angel faced criticism from fellow members of her subculture who thought sex work to be completely antithetical to their social justice goals. She has spoken about how difficult it was to see a community she had cared about for years turn her back on her completely for engaging in a type of work that she found enjoyable, and that she thought could be done with moral integrity. 

Joanna Angel: People were calling me ugly, calling me all sorts of mean shit, how [Burning Angel was] making a profit, [we were] exploiting women, blah blah blah. And I was so bummed. I was like, you know, this isn’t fair! I always support every fucking band in the punk scene. Even if I don’t like the band, I support them—I go to their shows, I would hand out fliers for their shows. I thought it was like a code, in the punk scene, that it doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. If this is part of the scene, you accept it, and you help it, and you love it—and I thought that’s what you were supposed to do. I remember being very hurt, you know? I was like, dude, I didn’t violate any punk laws by starting this. My friend from my computer class is the one who put it online. All the other girls on the site—all three of them— were punk chicks and part of the scene. And I felt really bad; people were insulting the other girls, and I really thought I was starting this cool thing where girls could just explore their sexuality. And mind you, at the time, the beginning of Burning Angel was just photos, not even videos. People were getting all up in this upheaval because of a handful of naked photos on the internet. It’s crazy to think about now. [source: Turned Out A Punk #127: Joanna Angel (Burning Angel)]

Amidst the mounting antagonism and after an incident at Hellfest 2004, Joanna officially decided to leave the hardcore scene that she’d been involved with for over five years.

Joanna Angel: I remember going to Hellfest one year. Maybe it was like 2004?…these girls were throwing water balloons at us because we had a booth there. Because we used to get booths at some of these shows and sell tshirts. We didn’t even have any DVDs—we’d literally get in a booth and sell tshirts and hand out fliers and stickers. And these other girls were throwing water balloons at us and calling us sluts. I was like, “Hey, that sucks, can you stop doing that?” And one of my friends—he owned a record label. He owned Eyeball Records, Alex…he saw the girls picking on us, and he went over to the girls, and said, “Hey, can you cool it? They have a booth here—let them do their thing. They’re not gonna get in your way.” And then those girls and their boyfriends beat him up, and he wound up in the hospital. He almost died. It was terrible. And I was like, we have to get out here. Let’s just stay away. If we’re a porn site, let’s just be a porn site. Let’s promote ourselves with other porn companies; let’s step away for a little while. Everyone in the punk scene knows who we are. They’ve made their decision about if they like us or not. I’m still gonna interview bands, still gonna do that thing—but I’m done. [source: Turned Out A Punk #127: Joanna Angel (Burning Angel)]

Joanna and Burning Angel’s separation from the NJ hardcore scene in 2004 finally brings me to Burning Angel: The Movie, My Chemical Romance, and that interview.

So, 2004: after over two years spent largely behind the camera and slowly expanding her porn site, Joanna finally decided to get in front of the camera and produce a more intentionally crafted alt porn video that retained the feel of the website. Thus Burning Angel: the Movie was born. 

As Joanna explains in the interview, the general idea of the DVD was that different self-contained pornographic scenes would be interspersed with band interviews. One of the key features of Burning Angel, like Suicide Girls before it, was the band interviews subscribers could access alongside the porn, so it made sense to preserve this aspect of the site on the DVD experience. Joanna interviewed five bands in early 2005: Killswitch Engage, Eighteen Visions, Shadows Fall, The Dillinger Escape Plan, and, of course, My Chemical Romance—all bands that Joanna admired, and who had been involved in the same scene that she had recently left because of very real threats to her emotional and physical well-being.

Within this context, My Chemical Romance’s decision to participate in the Burning Angel interview was a statement, as they put their support behind an enterprise that was highly controversial within the social circle most immediately relevant to them. 

Fresh off the 2004 Warped Tour and promoted Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, My Chemical Romance might have appeared to be largely divorced from their scene of origin, but they still acted in response to those politics—politics that impacted American culture at large more than you’d think—in both intentional and incidental ways. 

That is not to say that MCR was being overtly political; they’ve made a clear effort to distance themselves from the clear-cut political imagery and goals of some of their peers in hardcore. Still, the band (Gerard especially) very obviously cared a lot about using their music and stage presence to express shades of sexuality that they perceived to be lacking from some forms of music.

Gerard: I also wanted, at the same time, [for] the record to be a testament to self-expression, and putting stuff in there like that, while not being a homosexual myself, but expressing myself in a homosexual way, is either going to push your buttons in a negative way or you’re going to identify with it. [AP: Well, this whole scene wants you to be sensitive, but not too sensitive.] It is extremely homoerotic, especially the whole emo-sensitive thing. Everyone’s wearing women’s pants; everyone’s got women’s haircuts; everyone’s wearing youth-medium shirts. I don’t want to come out and say it. It’s blatantly obvious. Wearing a leather jacket is an extremely masculine thing to do in this scene. Even the hardcore bands, the really hard ones, you see them in makeup and stuff. I like that. I think it keeps it dangerous. It keeps it exciting. In a way, sex has really been missing from rock, especially because of all the sensitivity. That’s what I really wanted to convey on the record, too. I wanted the record to be very dangerous and sexy at the same time. There’s such a lack of sex in music. It’s been more about getting in touch with your feelings and being there for each other, which is great, but it’s definitely lacking this sexual duality. [Source: Alternative Press #193, Aug 2004; emphasis mine]

Additionally, many of their moments of explicit sexuality on stage were designed to be somewhat incendiary and polarizing. 

But it’s important to remember that, just as late 90s New Jersey hardcore was not the first subculture with issues of sexual repression, My Chemical Romance does not represent the first attempt to push back at this asexual culture and definitely weren’t leading that particular conversation. Gerard took inspiration from artists already pushing those boundaries and incorporating sexual expression into their art. He has spoken, for example, about the impact of Riot Grrrl acts upon his music and stage presence (Joanna Angel has similarly pointed to bands like Bikini Kill as significant influences). These bands had already incorporated resistance against harmful sexual repression, values which Gerard and his band mates took on when they adopted their styles into My Chemical Romance.

(I also want to mention briefly that other significant people in the hardcore world have spoken out against pornography, such as Ian MacKaye of the formative post-hardcore band Fugazi. MacKaye owned Dischord Records, the definitive underground music label, to which a young Frank Iero unsuccessfully attempted to get his band Sector 12 signed. The matter of pornography and its role within the hardcore world was not one upon which you could maintain a neutral stance after, say, appearing on a porn DVD.)

As shitty as it was that they needed approval from the men in the scene, My Chemical Romance, along with other bands, supported Burning Angel, a new kind of porn, and helped legitimize Joanna Angel’s claim that what she was doing was not backwards or exploitative but had integrity. 

Have you had an issue with people you grew up with when they find out you're in the adult industry? Joanna: At first people had problem[s], but not anymore. Once the cool kids in bands said, "I think what she's doing is cool" all the others turned around. Everyone I ever respected didn't have an issue with it and all the stupid, annoying hardcore kids had a problem. For as much shit as I got, I also got a lot of support. [Source: Hustlerworld Interview: Joanna Angel]

I don’t mean to glamorize the porn industry or to depict Joanna Angel as some savior of female sexuality in the early 2000s. But, as Kathleen Hanna points out, sex work is legitimate work, and sex workers deserve to have workplaces that treat them with dignity and communities that recognize their humanity. The reality was that NJ hardcore as a community did not support sex workers. Fundamentally, these were the barriers that caused Joanna and Burning Angel to make an exodus from the local hardcore scene—and they are the attitudes we risk reproducing when we express discomfort that a band we admire has interacted with a sex worker.

My intentions with this post (which turned out longer than I had ever anticipated, so Jesus, thank you for reading) were to shed light on the historical context of one moment in My Chemical Romance’s history. I’ve found that the average MCR fan, even those with a specific fondness for their early years, doesn’t actually know much at all about it—so I hope this has given some clarity.

I’ll end on this note: Without bands supporting Burning Angel, who knows—we might have never seen the lemon stealing whore. At the very least, the culture surrounding porn would look a lot different. That might not mean it would look better or worse—though you can’t deny the role that Joanna Angel played, nor the role that bands from the New Jersey Hardcore scene like My Chemical Romance played in shaping the American culture of pornography. 

Find sources for this post here.

[acknowledgements: thank you so much for reading! my forever thanks, as always, to nic @raytorosaurus, sophia @sendmyresignation, vyn @bringmoreknives, and maddy @8thnotes for their continued cheerleading as i spent over a month writing this long, long post. additional thanks to wes @killrockstar for very kindly offering some incredibly helpful guidance about riot grrrl and sending me resources about kathleen hanna. and much gratitude to merlin @void-flesh and @transmascfrankiero for their feedback on the final draft of this essay.]

#mcr #my chemical romance #joanna angel #mcr meta #my post

[greynatomy]

proud of you

lucy bronze x reader

second to last world cup fic. yhis was supposed to be my last, but i saw another in my inbox that’s i should start on.

my requests are closed as of right now. i’ll open it back up when i’ve finished doing the ones i could do, so bare with me.

i will still be writing ones of my ideas and have a couple almost done so keep a lookout for that.

letme know what you think!

-grey

———

In the stands, decked out in England jerseys, with your last name displayed proudly on your back, your two year old daughter, Evelyn, having ‘Mama’ on hers.

“Are you excited bubba?”

“Yeah! Mama win?” She looks at you with her big innocent eyes.

“We don’t know yet, so we’ll have to wait and see.”

It’s a very intense game, as expected. It is the final of the Women’s World Cup. Everyone was getting pushed, pulled, taken down. Evie did find it amusing whenever she sees someone fall.

In the twenty-ninth minute was when your heart stopped, Spain’s very own captain, Olga Carmona, scored a goal that erupted their fans into loud cries and cheers, you were glad that Evie had some ear protecting headphones, while England fans looked disappointed. You kept your hopes up. There’s still lots of time left.

But all your home diminishes once your heat the whistle for full-time. You were very proud of Spain, especially Lucy’s Barcelona teammates that you grew close with, despite having a shitty manager.

“Mommy dey los?”

“They did bub. But that’s okay, we’re still super proud of Mama right?”

“Proud Mama.” Evie nods in understanding. “We see Mama now?”

“In a little bit bub.”

Your heart breaks for your wife, even more when you see her collapse to the ground in tears. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around her and comfort her, but you want to give her some time with her team and peers.

After the medal and awards ceremony, family and friends are now allowed to go down onto the pitch. People ruching to go to their footballer relatives. You take a bit longer, trying to pick up all the toys, snacks and whatever else you brought for your daughter to keep her entertained during the match.

Stuffing everything in the backpack, you put the straps over your shoulders and carry Evelyn on your hip, making your way down to the pitch. Once on the grass, Evelyn starts to wiggle, wanting out of your arms, so you put her down. She starts running as fast as her little legs could. In the distance you see someone crouching down, holding her arms open, waiting for your daughter to get to her.

“Mama!” She yells out, excited to be able to hold her Mama again after so long.

Lucy wraps her arms around her baby, spinning in circles. She suddenly feels her neck become wet, pulling her daughters face from her neck to look at her.

“What are you crying bubby?”

“I miss you so much Mama!” She cries, her bottom lip jutting out.

You can’t help but admire your wife and daughter together. She has truly been the most amazing wife throughout your relationship, especially with your pregnancy. You gave her a real hard time and she was a champ through it all.

“Hey, Darling.” She wraps her free arm around you, leaning down to give you a kiss, only for it to be blocked by a hand pushing you away.

“No! My Mama.”

You pout, playfully being sad. “But she was mine first.”

“Bu-but mine now.”

“Well, what if I told you that’s you’ve got to share both Mommy and Mama in a couple months?”

Lucy’s confused. Why would her daughter have to share them both.

“What?” You daughter asks.

You grab a small jersey from the backpack. On the back, it reads ‘Bronze 2.”

“No way!” Lucy starts crying again, you joining her. “Really? It worked?”

“It did, Hun.”

She puts Evelyn down and wraps both her arms around your waist, giving you a tight, but gentle embrace. She pulls back and grabs the sides of your face with both hands giving you and passionate kiss.

“I love you. Oh, I’m so excited.” She mumbled against your lips.

“I love you. And I am so proud of you. You made it this far, be proud of yourself for being here. You played hard and made us all so proud.”

She picks Evie back up in her arms. “You’re gonna be a big sister!”

“Sister?”

“Yeah! There’s a baby in Mommy’s tummy.”

“She eat baby?”

“No, bub. The baby is gonna grow really big so Mommy’s tummy is gonna grow big and keep baby brother or sister safe.”

“Wow! Hi, baby. I sissy!” Evie has her face pressed up on your stomach.

Lucy wraps her arms back around you. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You question.

“For loving me.”

“It isn’t difficult to. I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #greynatomy #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader

[hydrngea]

ʀᴏᴄᴋꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ

a/n : first jj fic! this is mostly unedited, so sorry in advance. this fic was totally not inspired by a nostalgic bridget mendler song hope you enjoy <3 requests are open

notes/summary : you’re grounded and stuck reading romeo and julliet when a certain visitor tries to get your attention from your window. | jj x f!reader, fluff, no spoilers for obx3

word count : 833

masterlist

being grounded was not supposed to be a part of your weekend plans.

well, to be fair, it wasn’t the most prudent decision-making on your part either; sneaking in late from a party at the beach, drunk. especially on a school night too.

not your proudest moment, being caught red-handed by your parents as you tried and miserably failed to sneak into your bedroom window.

which is why you are here now- confined to the comfort of your home for the next two weeks. oh, and no electronics either.

phone? gone. laptop? also gone. hell, they even found your spare ipod from middle school in one of your drawers, so even your last resort is poof-gone.

so instead of being out with the rest of the pogues on another great adventure, you’re stuck, sitting at your bed catching up on reading romeo and juliet of all books for your english project due on monday.

you have to admit, it’s not the worst play your english teacher could’ve assigned. even with all the odd old-timey lingo, you’re still somewhat interested; likely because of the fact you hardly have anything else to entertain you, but still.

halfway through romeo’s sappy romantic monologue, you hear a loud clunk against your window. your gaze shoots up from the book up to the glass, contemplating whether to let it slide or get up to investigate.

you choose the former, too comfortable on top of your freshly made bed to set the book down and drag yourself over just to find nothing.

with a sigh, you restart the sentence you left on just to be interrupted once again by another thump coming from your window.

probably the gutter you think, until you see a pebble make contact with the aperture.

you push yourself up and trudge across the room.

your forehead presses against the cool glass whilst you try to find the source of the stones before you recognize the vague outline of someone standing in your front yard.

sliding the latch open, you lean against the ledge and stick your head out.

“hey! what do you think you’re-“

your sentence fades as your eyes meet jj’s, a big grin spread across his face.

another pebble lands on top of your roof and ricochets back onto your driveway.

“you weren’t answering our texts!” he shrugs, “someone had to make sure you didn’t die.”

you roll your eyes, combing your fingers through your hair. “jeezus j! wait there.”

you quickly paddle down the stairs, simultaneously thanking all the gods that your parents were fast asleep at this time of night. you open the back door and gesture for jj to come in, bringing a finger up to your lips.

 “you could’ve woken my parents up,” you chastize while half whispering-half yelling at him as he strides in, chuckling.

“you had me worried, sweetheart.”

the use of your pet name makes your frustration dim slightly. you let out a small sigh-and even though you find it impulsive of him to be throwing literal rocks at your window in the middle of the night- you can’t help but be relieved to see him here.

you shut and lock the door to your bedroom  as jj collapses onto your mattress, landing right on top of your open copy of the play.

“ow fuck,” he exclaims, jumping into a sitting position. he rubs at his hip where there's surely to be a bruise tomorrow from the point of the book. “what was that?”

you roll your eyes again, relaxing back onto your bed  beside him with your cheek resting on your hand.

“shakespeare.”

jj snorts, picking up the book and placing it on your side table, “since when do you read shakespeare of all things.”

“since i got grounded and i have nothing else to do.”

“you could do-“ 

your palm shoves into his chest before he can finish his sentence. “nu, uh. what were you doing out there at two in the morning?” you question.

“i’m sorry, my lady.” he over-exaggerates an apology, grasping your hands in his. “ will thou ever forgive thee?” he enunciates with the emulation of a shitty british accent. 

you arch your brow, “for tossing rocks at my window or for that horrible accent?”

“both?”

“hmm…”

“please?” jj juts his bottom lip out, feigning a pout, looking at you with his beautiful blue orbs.

you let out a giggle, scooting towards him until your front is pressed up by his. you throw your leg over his torso- straddling him- and place your hands on the back of his neck, playing with some stray strands of his blonde locks.

“hmm…well considering it’s what romeo did to get julliets attention, i guess I can’t blame you for trying to be a romantic,” you respond, lips meeting the skin underneath his jawline.

jj’s hands run over your back, sliding up your flimsy pajama top suggestively.

“i thought that was just a thing gnomeo did in gnomeo and julliet, if i’m being honest.” 

you chuckle against his neck, pulling back slightly to lock your eyes with his, “you’re fucking insufferable, jj.”

he tilts his chin up, bringing his lips to brush under yours, “love you too, babe.”

-----

pls tell me you guys have watched gnomeo and juliet. hc- jj was obsessed both gnomeo and juliet and sherlock gnomes. 

taglist (lmk if you’d like to be added!) : @mrsstarkey1 @maybankslover 

check out my newest fic !!!

follow and reblog and i'll do the same for you! 

#jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank #jj x reader #obx x reader #jj maybank smut #obx smut #obx #obx imagine #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fluff #jj maybank fluff #obx fluff #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks x reader #jj x y/n #rudy pankow #rudy pankow fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #rudy outerbanks #jj maybank x y/n #drew starkey

[justagirlwholikesadam]

"How can I prove it?"

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SFW Blurb

Young Severus Snape x fem! Hufflepuff Reader

A/n: My obsession with Harry Potter, came back after I was sick for a week and I binged all the movies. I forgot how much of a crush I had on Professor Snape that I just had to let it out and do some writing. I do have a few things in mind but if people like this short blurb I’ll continue on. By the way, I haven’t read the books so if something doesn’t make sense just ignore it or stop reading. :) Enjoy - L

Summary: After being forced to watch a quidditch game, Severus found out that his friends are pushing him to make the next move on a certain Hufflepuff girl.

Warning: SFW, Severus being his emo self, lots of low self-esteem, curse words.

Word Count: 2.7K

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He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from cursing as another harsh wind blew causing his long dark hair to get into his face again. He didn’t want to be here. It's not like he dislikes quidditch. He found it a bit entertaining but he would rather spend his weekend reading in the comfort of his bed but he was pulled from his bed by Mulciber and Avery.

“I'm not in the mood to see one of your pranks?” Severus said as they walked towards the field. He was used to watching Mulciber and Avery pull their stupid and mean pranks on the younger students. 

“No pranks.” Avery said looking over his shoulder with a smile. Severus didn't trust that smile. He was thinking if he was fast enough he could cast a spell to freeze them so he can go back to his bed. 

“Our House isn’t playing. Why are we even here?” Severus said, shooting them a glare as they made their way up to the stand. He can see the players, blue and yellow uniforms everywhere. He sighs as they sit down, he had managed to take one of his books before they pushed him out of the room.  He didn't want to leave without one, there was no point in watching this game. His house wasn't playing so why waste his attention on it. 

“Don’t be like that. We must support your girl.” Severus took a minute to realize they didn’t mean Lily but they meant you.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Severus mumbles at them trying to ignore the tips of his ears burning. There was no way a girl like you would be with him. You were his potion partner and nothing else. He had mistakenly let out to Mulciber and Avery that he found you attractive and kind. He was always focused in potion class but now every once in a while he would glance over at you. The way your lips curled up when smiling, your eyes were bright whenever you stirred the cauldron. You always tried to get him to talk about himself. Asking him about shows and food but he kept his mouth shut. How can someone like you be interested in what he likes?  Deep in thought thinking about you he felt a slight push to his right side making his book slip out of his hands. 

Severus was about to snap at whoever sat next to him, making him drop his book and the worst thing happened, he lost the page he was at. He looks over and notices platinum hair. It was Lucius Malfoy, he was surprised that the eldest students of House Slytherin was in a Hufflepuff Quidditch match and sitting next to him. Nods and greetings were usually what Severus received from him. They weren't close friends but Lucius knew about Severus. 

“Which number is your girl?” Lucius asked him. Severus looks over at Mulciber and Avery who shrugged their shoulders at him. They didn’t mention you to Lucius, Severus made them swore to keep it a secret. 

Severus shook his head and cleared his throat. Lucius and him watched as the players flew around. “I don't have a girlfriend.” 

Lucius chuckled as he crossed his legs and looked up at one of the girls. “That's funny.” 

Severus frowned. “What's funny about that?” 

“Because of the way both of you look at each other.” He tensed up when Lucius draped an arm over his shoulders and pointed at the sky with his left index finger. Severus follows his gaze at you. 

“She has a pretty face. Nice body. That smile.” Lucius whispered as they looked at you flying with your team. Severus agreed with the older boy. You were smiling as you flew with another girl who just scored a goal. 

“How did you manage to get the prettiest Hufflepuff? Fuck- if I was you, I would just bend her-” Severus was about to cut him off when Narcissa walked up the steps to where Lucius and Severus were sitting. He quickly removed his arm from Severus.  

“Hey, love. Hey, Severus.” Narcissa said, sitting next to Lucius who kissed her cheek. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Severus looks away from them. He wanted to leave, what a mistake it was to come here. He ignored the looks the crowd gave him. The two richest and popular students were sitting next to him and talking to him. 

“Love, you know Y/n Y/L?” Severus' eyes practically pop out of his head when he hears Lucius. He grips his book in his hands tightly thinking of any excuse to leave. He didn't want the world to think he had a crush on you. He would get bullied even more. 

Sure, you were kind and pretty to him. You barely made him feel like a freak when you worked with him. He sometimes ignore you whenever you waved at him during lunch or when walking down the halls.The other male students would glare at him whenever you spoke to him. Severus knew what they were thinking. How can the prettiest girl be talking to skinny, pale, Snivellus? 

“Yeah, I do. She’s the seeker for Hufflepuff. She asked me about Severus.” 

Severus dropped the book in his hand once more and turned to face Narcissa. “What?” He asked, ignoring the hoots from Avery and Mulciber behind his back. Why would you ask her for him, he didn't understand it.

“She asked me if you were dating anyone. I said no.” Narcissa said nonchalantly as she looked down at her nails. 

“This has to be a joke.” He groans at her but Avery places a hand on his shoulder. “Ask her out. She’s probably waiting for you to say something.” 

“Fuck.” Severus mumbles as he leans down to get his book. He didn't notice the look Lucius had when he looked over at Avery and Mulciber. 

“HEY! Y/N!” Lucius yelled. Severus had a horrified face when he grabbed his book. He looked to his right and saw Lucius standing up from his seat. His wand pointed at his throat to make his voice loud. 

“Stop that! You can’t just call someone in the middle of a match. Especially a seeker.” Severus said standing up. He clutched his book against his chest. He had enough of this. He was going back to his room and never leaving until Monday. He should have never come here. He damned Avery and Mulciber for bringing him here and Lucius along with his girlfriend. 

Severus froze when a gust of wind passed him. He can see a yellow cape by his side. 

“What’s up?” 

He didn’t know if he should be angry at the fact that you actually came or the fact that Lucius greeted you with one of his charming smiles. 

“You know my friend here, right?” Severus let out a yelp when Lucius grabbed him by the shoulder and leaned against him acting like they had been friends for years. Severus was too shy to look at you. He wanted the world to swallow him whole. 

“I do. Hey, Sev.” He finally manages to look at you and his heart is flipping inside his chest. You were smiling at him while you're in the air riding your broomstick. He can hear your teammates calling out for you and such but you didn’t turn around. 

“Hey, Y/n.” Severus smiles back before looking down at his feet. 

“He wants to go out with you. Do you want to go out with him?” Severus right then there would have given his soul for the stand to collapse. 

“Yes!” Severus looks at you surprised. “If you want to. I wasn’t sure if you-“ 

“Look, I’m sorry if he made you do this as a joke but I’m leaving now. Continue on with your match.” Severus has had enough he was going back to his room. He quickly starts leaving, ignoring his friends calling out for him.

“Wait!” He flinched at the sudden gust of wind and saw you had followed him. 

“I’m serious. I really do want to.” Severus saw you looking over your shoulder when your teammates started yelling at you to hurry up. 

“How can I prove it?” You asked him. Severus didn't want to believe it. How could he, he's been bullied so many times. The only girl he liked was Lily. Now she doesn't want anything to do with him. The word dare came to his mind, were you paid by Potter to go out with him? Did someone put you up to this? 

“Severus?” He hears you call out for him. He can see the seeker of House Ravenclaw flying by you but you didn't take your eyes from him. He didn't want you to lose the game because of him. 

“Get the golden snitch if you're serious.” He said. He was waiting for you to laugh at him and reveal your true nature. He waited for the words, ‘Idiot, I don't really want to date you.’

Instead you smiled at him before nodding. “Pick me up outside of the Hufflepuff common room at 6.” 

You didn't let Severus respond, you quickly flew away back to the game leaving him in the stand shocked. Severus made his way back to his seat, he rolled his eyes at the sight of Avery, Mulciber and Lucius smiling at him. 

“Went well?” Lucius asked as Narcissa cuddled next to him. Severus looks at him with a frown. “Why help me?” He asked, not understanding. 

“Us, Slytherins have to stick together.” Severus was not satisfied with his answer. 

“Merlin, Severus!” Lucius said laughing as he looked at Severus who had a deadpan expression. 

“Oh! Shit!” Mulciber yelled as he rose up from his seat and pointed at the sky. 

Severus saw  the ravenclaw seeker and you head to head flying up to the sky. He saw the golden snitch gliding across the field. He frowned when he saw the ravenclaw seeker pushing you with his shoulder. Lucius let out a laugh when the ravenclaw seeker fell off his broom when you pushed him right back advancing to get the golden snitch. 

Severus without realizing had stood up trying to get a better view of you. He held his book against his chest as he watched you reach your hand out flying towards the golden snitch. A huge smile broke out on his pale face when the horns blew and the announcer of the game roared with happiness. 

“Y/N L/N just caught the golden snitch! HOUSE HUFFLEPUFF WINS!” 

---

He was standing in front of the Hufflepuff common room. He can hear cheering and music playing inside. He was nervous that perhaps you had completely forgotten about the date. He stood a foot away from the doorway, he began to fiddle with his slender fingers. He decided to wear his “nice” muggle clothes, none of them had any holes. He had even charmed them to fit his frame right and even brushed his hair. 

He was going to speak to you after the game but your teammates had carried you out of the field as they cheered your name. He let out a sigh as he looked over at the clock hanging on the wall. It was 6:03 now and you haven’t come out of your room. He shook his head, calling himself an idiot. He shouldn’t have believed that you were interested in him. Turning around to head back to his room, he heard the door open. Music and people chattering were loud, he ignored it until his name was called out. He halts when he hears someone running behind him. 

“Hey!” He looked behind when he felt someone grab his arm. It’s you. You have changed into muggle clothes as well. His dark eyes went straight to your lips, they were shiny. Your lashes are darker and longer, he then realized you got all dolled for him. Maybe you did want to go out with him, he thought to himself. 

“Hey, I didn’t think you-“ you shook your head, cutting him off. 

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” Your answer caught him off guard. 

“Congratulations.” He said looking back at the door where your house was celebrating their win. 

“Wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for you.” He lets out a shy chuckle. You gave him a smile when he looked down in embarrassment. 

“It’s true. Gave me the right push.” Severus notices you grabbing your shoulder bag and lifting the flap to get something inside. He looks at you with his brows raised when you hand him a book. 

“Dark Arts VIII.” Is written in silver on the black leather cover. It’s old, and Severus saw it before in the library but never had the chance to read it. He wondered how you managed to get it. 

“This is for you.” Severus does a double take looking at you and at the book. 

“Me.” He whispered. You nod at him. 

“I asked Narcissa about you. She told me you like the Dark Arts. I know you like potions but that’s all I know.” Severus knew it was his fault for that. Every time you tried to get near him outside of the classroom he would go the other way. You would offer him a hello but as soon you wanted to get near him, he would disappear. 

“I wanted to know more about you.” Severus runs his fingers on the bind of the book before looking back at you. 

“Thank you for this. I feel horrible for not giving you anything.” 

Avery and Mulciber were behind a pillar watching the scene in front of them. They thought the castle would crumble when Severus smiled down at you. They watched the pair laugh before walking down the hall. 

“You’re stepping on my fucking leg.” The Slytherin looked at each other thinking it was one of them speaking. 

“Shit! My bad.”  Avery and Mulciber looked behind to see the door to the HufflePuff commoner half open, four heads stuck out. The fourth one gasped and disappeared when making eye contact with the Slytherin. 

“Hey!” The first head was a blonde girl, she greeted them. 

“You’re his friend?” Avery nodded and the third head who was a brunette smiled. 

“We are Y/n’s friends. Wanted to make sure she's okay with your friend.” 

“He does something and I’ll hurt him and you guys.” A voice came out, the door was pushed open completely. Mulciber’s eyes widened when a tall blonde came walking out into the hall. 

“Severus isn’t that type of guy.” Avery said, then looked at Mulciber for some kind of help. Mulciber was so busy looking at the blonde that he didn't notice Avery. Mulciber let out a wince when Avery hit him in the gut. 

“Yes, that’s right. Severus wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” Mulciber told the blond guy. 

The Hufflepuff's students looked at the pair of Slytherin for a moment. “Fine.” The tall blonde said then looked down to the hall. They all did, Severus and you were long gone. 

“She’s our friend. Just want to make sure she’s fine.” The brunette spoke as she slipped out of the door and stood next to the blonde man. They all seemed to know about Severus and his reputation.  

“Our friend too. He’s a good lad. People are just assholes.” Mulciber commented. 

“Yeah, Potter and that guy with the last name Black? We heard about them.”  The blonde said, rolling his eyes. Mulciber and Avery looked at each other not sure how to get the fuck out of here. 

“We should be heading back.” Mulciber said as he took a step back to walk to the Slytherin's common room. 

“Why not join us?” The brunette asked, looking back to the room then at them. 

“We got music and food.” The blonde man said. “Herbs.” Mulicher’s eyes widened when he saw a girl coming out of the common room with a blunt between her fingers. 

“Sure, a couple of hours won’t hurt.” Avery heard Mulciber say. The students of House Hufflepuff smile at them as they welcome them inside. 

#severus snape #young severus #sfw interaction only #cute #fluff #harry potter #severus x reader #severus x y/n #alan rickman #harry potter fanfiction #Severus fanfiction #young severus snape #young Severus snape fanfic

[midnightsxblue]

LUCKY

carl grimes x reader

tags: angst but then fluff !

masterlist here!

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

When the apocalypse started you’d lost all your family and were on your own for what felt like ages but you eventually found someone who made you feel safe and her name was Natasha. She was a stranger but she used to be a mother and had lost her son at the start. She’d protected you like you were her own; like you were blood.

She was everything to you, but she left too soon. She was attacked by a walker and you did everything you could. You got bit in the process and got so choked up over the fact you knew you’d die within the next twenty four hours, you let Natasha get swarmed. You ran away as fast as you could, basically sobbing. That night after finding shelter you patiently waited for the infection to take over. You couldn’t take the easy way out, you were too scared. Nothing happened for about two days straight when you realized, you might’ve just been lucky.

Ever since Natasha, you swore to yourself you’d never let anyone you cared for die like that again and you’d make sure of it with your immunity. Granted you could still get ripped to shreds but you knew you’d never let it get that far. Not after seeing what happened to Natasha.

After that, you traveled long and far, eventually finding yourself at a large gated community with a sign at the front that read “Alexandria Safe Zone.” They had let you in very kindly. You struggled to bond with anyone there, most of them had been there since the start and never had true experience in the world around you. Except Carl.

He, to you, was the most normal of all of them; your definition of normal at least. He’d seen it all, his whole group did but he was different from his group. He’d grown up in the apocalypse just like you. It wasn’t just a part of your guys’ lives. It was all you could really remember. It almost makes you feel bad for his baby sister. She’d never know what the world was really like.

So you two grew closer. You’d go out into the woods to ensure you’d never forget. You read comics, listened to music, anything that you could think of. It never occurred to you that maybe you should tell him about your immunity. You hadn’t told anyone before and you knew if you kept bonding like you were then he’d figure it out himself. You didn’t want to take the risk of him telling someone else, you don’t know what would happen to you.

You tried to ignore the topic as much as possible, you only have ever worn long sleeves and did whatever you could to ensure they would never see it. Carl had just assumed you were mostly comfortable that way so he never mentioned it.

One morning the two of you decided to go out to the forest to read. Although you’d heard talks of a horde of walkers that were supposed to travel through that day, you didn’t really listen. The communities horde tracking system wasn’t always accurate as it would usually be a couple days ahead.

You guys walked through the forest, your hands interlocked as you looked for your spot. You approached your fallen log and you settle into the ground as Carl begins to dig through a large black box filled with anything to entertain you both. “What do you wanna read?” He asks, focused on rummaging through the pile of comics. “I’m fine with whatever. Maybe Deadpool if you want.” You reply, also digging through your bag for the pretzels you had packed for you two.

He finds the comic and sits back next to you and you lean into his shoulder while you read. You loved this, reading with him. His presence helped you forget everything you wanted to. Losing your family, watching Natasha die, getting bit. Everything washes away when you’re with him. You focus on the comic for a while until you heard the irritating noise of walkers nearby. You completely forgot the warnings you’d heard this morning.

The both of you stand up and Carl tosses the comic back in the box. You look around to see that there’s a small horde. On a regular day you would go hide in the hallowed tree trunk behind your log but the walkers had already noticed you. “Shit. We’re just gonna have to take them.” You tell him. He pulls his knife from his belt and you do the same, preparing for the next step.

You handle a few, unfortunately not quite easily. Some of the skulls weren’t too soft and also you got quite a bit of blood on you. You handled about six of them, Carl handled 9. There was one final walker that you handled before you two could take a breath. You turn to Carl with a content look, almost proud of the work you accomplished. He nods and you’re interrupted by another walker which seemingly came out of fucking nowhere.

The walker pushes into Carl and your immediate instinct is to pull it off of him. You grab the walker just below its neck and before you know it, its teeth plunge right into your forearm. You didn’t know it but Carl’s heart completely shattered. His eyes went wide and he helped get it off of you. Your knife shoves into its chin and it’s finally dead.

You let it fall to the floor and for some odd reason, tears begin to flow from your eyes. It was too close of a call but you’d survived, Carl had survived. You were relieved; relieved that you’d saved someone from the fate Natasha had faced.

“Y-you’re bit.” He mutters. You look to him and wipe your tears, smiling slightly. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. How could you be smiling? “Why…what’s there to smile about?” He asks, his voice still quiet. You roll your sleeve up from your other arm, showing your old bite wound. He steps closer to see it and he gently runs his fingers over it.

“I-I don’t understand how’s that…” His voice trails off and he looks back to you for any answers.

“It’s from a while ago. I’m immune. I know I should’ve told you earlier but I didn’t know how, I didn’t know what people would do to me.” He looks back down at your arm before his hands move up to your shoulders. “I would never do anything to hurt you…I wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you.” You nod knowingly and look back at the floor as your tears continue to flow. “Why are you crying? You’re gonna survive.” His hand moves up to wipe your tears off.

“I guess I was just scared of losing you.” You explain. He tilts your chin up to look at you before kissing your forehead, leaning his on yours afterwards.

“You’re not gonna lose me.”

─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ───

a/n: yall it felt like going to WAR to get this shit out omg i literally couldn’t finish writing it for the life of me bc i’ve been soooo unmotivated BUT I FEEL BETTER NOWWW so i’m down to take even more requests i think i have one left in my inbox that will be worked on today and tmr and will probably be posted tmr :> THANK U ANON FOR THE REQUEST IT WAS PERFECT!!! (sorry for the ending being so shitty fhndnfnfnfn)

#carl grimes #the walking dead #twd #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #the walking dead carl #twd fanfiction #fanfic

[moonsaver]

hello! i'm here to drop some thoughts that have plagued my mind for quite a while now, idk if you can answer it or not but if you can't then it's fine. however if you can, i would be delighted (your writings are so good, ty for keeping my delulu brain well fed ❤️)

ok, have you considered abt yan!Sunday x yan!reader? bonus point if yan!reader is like some kind of servant or personal assistant etc. think about this, yan!reader, so eager to do anything to please Sunday, they are willing to do anything and *everything*, even ready to shed some blood or partake in some of the...more dirty works, as long as the rewards are praises being cooed out by Sunday or Sunday's hand patting their head. yan!reader, although knowing they are nothing but a mere puppet that Sunday could play with, relinquish themselves as they voluntarily become a nice little plaything, to be completely at Sunday mercy.

on Sunday side, he would definitely enjoy seeing yan!reader being so submissive and obedient, like a trusty and loyal guard dog. he could mold them however he liked and they would be so fast to obey without second thoughts, he could assign them a mission and they would finish it as soon as possible. submissive, compliant, obedient, these traits are what Sunday seeking for an assistant, it gave him a sense of power and dominance.

in public, everybody only sees Mister Sunday and his assistant. in the privacy of Sunday's office, yan!reader kneeled in front of Sunday, their face rubbed in between Sunday's lap as they begged for compliments for yet, another successful mission. Sunday only chuckled as he cooing out praises, his hand stroked their hair as if they are nothing more than a lap dog. that's okay though, judging on how yan!reader was so willing to do anything for their beloved, they would call themselves 'a lap dog', too.

Sunday's part was kind of short since i didn't have a grasp of his personality yet but i hope that this brainrot would plague your mind as much as it was plaguing mine. i'll come back with more brainrot, i assure you! until next time, ta-ta.

Hello anon! Please do drop by any thoughts you have. I like reading these. I like having a little peek into your brains' click clacks

As for Yan!sunday x yan!reader, I've had maybe.. 2 or so requests? It's not the first time I've come across the idea, no worries.

As for the idea itself.. to be honest, it just never stuck with me. In my brutal honesty I can't quite imagine it as anything else but like.. a really unhealthy but devoted relationship. Yanderes are all about the horror of desperation for me, and a lot of other factors. But i think I can see the vision with the desperate yan!reader.

---

Yan!sunday i imagine is actually quite fervently in love. But this spin on his character is well within bounds. Someone who ends up actually using another obsessive character, aka yan!reader as their errand-runner, and have them do all the dirty work he would usually have to get his hands stained for. I imagine at first he's disturbed, but finds some consensus with yan!reader, and "entertains" their whims. He gives them some affection, and has them running out like a headless chicken doing the work assigned.

At some point, both of you are stained endlessly with sins, and blood does not wash from your skin. Both of you are bound to each other by secrets too messy and scandalous to ever burden someone else with. Both of you are akin to a cursed keeper, lips locked with secrets, and somewhere along the lines, Yan!sunday finds himself spouting devoted nonsense into yours. Both of you may as well fall into this neverending spiral of sins, and damn those who dared to stain his Family, and the world he works so hard to protect.

If anything, the loneliness of the sins seeping into his bones is relinquished by you. You and your weak smile and your obsessive eyes, your chapped lips and cracked nails with dry blood in the valley of your nailbed.

In the end, yan!sunday ends up loving you, or at least, obsessing over you, because now you're the only person who understands. Who knows. And you've seen the ugliest crooks of his halo and the dead secrets Penacony hides, and you love him anyway. It's a neverending dance for sinners who may never see the light of redemption soon. The feast is over and the curtain's call comes, and his wings are stained with your blood, and your lips are stained with his sin. Who, in the end, pays the price?

#moonink #hsr #honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #sunday hsr #hsr sunday #honkai star rail sunday #yandere sunday x you #yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday #hsr sunday x you #hsr sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x reader #yandere hsr x you #yandere hsr x reader #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

[iskratempestmadness]

A few facts about the characters of "Baki the grappler"

Characters: Baki, Hanayama, Katsumi, Jack, Retsu.

Baki

Food

- it may seem that he prefers something simple, but he doesn't mind trying unusual food combinations. According to the type of ice cream with French fries.

- traditional Japanese cuisine on weekdays and fast food on weekends. He likes to treat himself to a big burger on Saturday night. Although he will have to work hard afterwards to get himself back in shape.

- has a neutral relationship with alcohol. He can drink during the holiday, but usually tries to abstain.

Leisure

- you can't tell from him, but he reads quite a lot, although he can't be called a bookworm. He definitely likes manga and comics, as well as something light from Japanese classics. He reads to relax, so he doesn't want to strain his brain.

- he likes to play board games. He is quite experienced in them, but in some cases, fortune does not favor him.

- walking in the fresh air. As I said, he just wants to relax, so contemplating nature is perfect for that. He likes the prospect of going somewhere to the countryside and staying there to live.

Moment:

It was early in the morning, when the city had not yet had time to wake up. The young man was sitting on a bench in the park, which was close to his house. Despite the fact that summer had already arrived, it was quite cool outside, but the young man did not seem to notice this. Hanma has been visiting this place quite often lately. Perhaps it was here that he could fully relax. His thoughts were confused, like the thoughts of a man who had just woken up, he was thinking about everything and at the same time about nothing. However, he noticed all the peculiarities of his environment. For example, he noticed that the birds were calling to each other today more briskly than usual, and also that this morning was warmer than yesterday, but it was still a little cool for summer... He liked it... And he also liked to have such a carefree time... This is the kind of environment he wants to spend his life in...

Hanayama:

Food

is mmmm... He loves Japanese fast food. You know, quick fried meat in batter with vegetables and various sauces. Or udon in a small but cozy eatery. But he needs really big portions.

- he also likes traditional Japanese dishes, but he prefers not to eat them too often.

- Alcohol? He is an expert in this. It may seem that he drinks only strong drinks, but he is also very well versed in the lungs. Hana also belongs to the type of people who drink and do not get drunk.

Leisure

- naturally, he spends a lot of time in bars. He knows all the bars in Tokyo. And he wrote a review for each, all the pros and cons of the institution were taken into account. He finds this way of spending time very entertaining.

- he likes to play billiards when he has free time. And he's pretty good at it. Despite his size, he is adept at this.

- fishing. Ohhh, he's a pro at this. And how else can you call a man who went to a shark with his bare hands? But even in less extreme conditions, he finds pleasure in fishing.

Moment:

A hard day. This is perhaps the most plausible description of what happened today. There are so many issues that need to be resolved "urgently", so many people who do not understand what they want from him... It exhausted him. His head was throbbing violently, preventing him from concentrating...What was he thinking about? Yes, there's nothing to talk about.Hana was in the very state when a person's mind is filled with various short memories that have no connection with each other...And he didn't have a single sensible thought in his head. He lit a cigarette as usual. And he himself did not understand how he ended up where he is now. It was one of the idzkai he frequented...Heh, perhaps this really was the best option to relax. The young man sat down at the counter and waited for his order... and for some reason, he was already feeling better now. My head didn't hurt so much anymore, and there was no annoying carousel of memories. Hana waited for his order and to his delight, the food really helped him. In some cases, even such small things can make you feel better.

Katsumi:

Food

- HOMEMADE FOOD. To give Natsue her due, she cooks beautifully, so Katsumi's favorite food is homemade food. He doesn't even have a preference, he just loves it and he'll eat whatever they give him.

- he also likes strange food combinations. He is always ready to try something new, but he already has his favorite combinations. I can assume that this is watermelon and feta cheese or popcorn with hot sauce

- relationship with alcohol... Well, he only drinks on holidays, but Katsumi doesn't know the measure. If he drinks, he gets completely drunk. He doesn't know the measure at all.

Leisure

- bowling. He just likes this kind of leisure activity. And he became almost a master at it.

- he likes to sing and not only in the shower. Therefore, one of his favorite ways to spend time is karaoke. He might not be a brilliant singer himself, but he puts his whole soul into it.

- cooking. In this, perhaps, it cannot be said that he is a great master, but he really likes to learn this. He was already delighting himself with a couple of simple dishes. However, it should be noted that his dishes are a little overcooked.

Moment:

He decided to put himself under stress again. There was no other way he could have called it. Of course he liked cooking, but what was happening was terrible. The heated oil splashed in all directions, he spilled something on the floor, broke a couple of plates, and a mountain of dishes in the sink was waiting for him. Is it not a horror? Nevertheless, Katsumi was determined that he would cook this dish. Why didn't he go the easier way? Why didn't you just order what you wanted? After all, he could have asked Natsueh to cook this dish, why didn't he? There were several reasons. First, he liked it. Yes, despite what was happening, he still enjoyed cooking. And he didn't expect a good result at all, he just enjoyed the process. The second is his stubbornness. Is something wrong with him? So what, he will do it as many times as it takes for a decent result. It's a challenge for him. It's a tough call. He had to sweat a lot, but... God, he was really glad... The food was good. But as usual, it is slightly peppered.

Jack:

Food

really has no preferences. All that can be eaten is food for him.

- however, he highlights the Canadian cuisine. After all, this is his native kitchen. One of his favorite dishes is cream cake and "nanaimo"

- attitude to alcohol? Mmmm... Given his lifestyle, we can say that he does not drink at all. But sometimes when he can't sleep, Jack will drink a glass of tincture, but no more. Most likely, he will be able to put tinctures.

Leisure

- He likes to swim. This is an ideal way for him to practice and relax. Besides, he is fond of diving. (So it's ideal for him if he lives somewhere near the sea or a deep lake. This is one of his dreams.)

- he can play the guitar. Despite the fact that he trains almost all the time, he also finds time to practice it. His game is at the amateur level, but it's also not bad.

- What is it? Just like Bucky, he can't be called a bookish character, but he has a couple of bookshelves. Jack prefers little-known works by popular authors. And his favorite genres of books can be called detective and fiction.

Moment:

Quiet. It's late in the evening, it's about one or two in the morning. The noise of the city is no longer audible, only the quiet rustle of leaves and the occasional rumble of water. The atmosphere is wonderful... However... The young man had not been able to sleep for about two hours and it began to bother him. Instead of lying on the bed, he could have done something more useful with a light... well, or at least interesting. Reading was perfect. Jack sat up in bed, turned on the lamp, picked up a book lying on one of the bedside tables and plunged into one of those most amazing worlds that are considered fiction or a fairy tale, and call it fiction. Hanma was quite picky about literature, although he didn't read much. But this book was really interesting to him. Why? Perhaps it was an interesting plot, or curious descriptions of the area, or dialogues of the characters, or... Why guess? Jack liked this book because he could use it to distract himself. There was no hint of the real world in it. Not once in the entire book has there been a hint of problems that were in the real world. And the young man didn't think it was a bad thing. On the contrary, he liked it. It brought lightness, calmness and calmness to his life... Perhaps... A little bit of happiness...

Retsu:

Food

is Chinese cuisine. To say that he loves her will not be enough... He RESPECTS her. He respects her all. From dishes in street eateries to home cooking.

- Japanese cuisine is in second place after Chinese cuisine for him. However, he is extremely critical of her. Retsu tries to eat right, so he carefully monitors what he eats.

- does Retsu drink? Exclusively on holidays. But if there is an opportunity, he will refrain from doing so. He really doesn't like alcohol.

Leisure

- cooking. And he's a pro at it. He has been cooking since childhood, he has a wealth of experience and his knowledge in cooking is still being replenished. He read a lot of books on cooking and watched a huge number of programs on this topic. He is completely enlightened, as it might seem. However, he claims that he still has a lot to grow.

- reading. But he can be called a bookworm. He read everything from classics to manga. And this made him extremely selective in the collection of works. For Retsu, the book is needed not only to relax or distract himself, but also to rethink life. The book is a source of wisdom for him.

- he is fond of photography. And in this he is at the beginner stage. But he learns fast. He likes to photograph animals and plants. He also likes to shoot landscapes.

Moment:

"Yes, this is what we need... This kind of view definitely needs to be captured." This was the first thought that came to Retsu's mind. And the scenery was really spectacular. Mount Fuji. The height is 3776. And it's amazing. The young man was really happy despite the cold and the long journey. Taking out his camera, Retsu started taking pictures... huh... Amazingly... But the camera did not transmit even a tenth of the landscape... However, the footage was amazing. Retsu didn't have much experience in photography, he was still a beginner. How did he come to this? Why photos? Everything is simple. There have been changes in it. Let's just say his mindset has changed. The young man seemed to rethink his life... And I made a conclusion. He needs to slow down. Pay a little more attention to his environment. Watch the world more. That's why he chose photography. With his help, Retsu had the opportunity to forever contemplate what he had captured.

I don't think I'll pull part 2, heh.

#baki son of ogre #baki the grappler #baki #baki the grappler headcanons #baki headcanons #chracter x reader #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #baki hanma #hanayama kaoru #retsu kaioh #baki hanma x reader #hanayama kaoru x reader #katsumi orochi x reader #jack hanma x reader #retsu kaioh x reader #hanayma x reader #katsumi x reader #jack x reader #retsu x reader