#For some reason I have it in my head that it's really hard to find new metal that isn't vaguely conservative/christian/fascist/racist

[candylix]

great minds think alike | bang chan

A sequel to blow my mind, read that one first! Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • After failing your test, you decide to go to the library to study. But when you get there, you see Chan. He wasn't the reason you failed, but he definitely didn't help. You said you weren't going to read his mind again, but after the first incident, he hasn't left your thoughts. It couldn't hurt to see what he's thinking about this time, right? Genre • college au, fluff, smut WC • 2.6k Content • sequel to blow my mind, no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina and breasts, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: asking you out 🥰, public sex, groping, thigh grinding, clit stimulation. Chan has an exhibitionism kink. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.

You really needed to bring your grade up. Normally you do alright, but that score was going to plummet your GPA. You never expected cheating to backfire so hard... but how could you possibly predict that the person you were mind reading would be thinking about sex the whole time?

This time, you'll be prepared the right way. You carry your textbooks and notes to the school library, and you're going to buckle down and study.

You enter the library with your foolproof plan in mind. You even set your timer for an hour, so you know when to take a break after all your hard work. But you freeze when you get to the tables and see a certain man already there.

Chan is studying too. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest. After the test, you caught yourself thinking about him all the time. When you saw him, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to be around him, but you felt too anxious to say hi.

Safe to say, you've formed a little crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit to yourself, because you know how it happened. You read his mind, saw him fuck you on the desk, and now you want to hold his hand and kiss him.

Before you can even think rationally, you find yourself walking over to his table.

"Hey, mind if I study here?" you ask, mentally punching yourself for breaking the plan this easily.

He looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, but his shock fades into a smile when he sees you.

"Go ahead," he responds. You pull out the seat across from him and put your stuff in front of you, as if you'll actually be able to get any studying done.

"Did you see your test score yet?" he asks.

"Yeah... let's just say there's a reason I came here to study."

"I didn't do too well either. Not bad, but not good."

"What happened?" you ask. You know what happened, but you want to see what he has to say.

"I, uh," he starts, and you see his cheeks start to flush. "I got a bit distracted."

'A bit distracted' is the understatement of the century.

"I hope I don't distract you, then."

He laughs nervously at your comment.

"Well, um, I'll get back to studying then," he says, and hides his face behind his laptop.

You open your textbook and think about studying, but you know you wont be able to resist peering into his mind. With the way he reacted, you know he's going to think about something interesting.

While pretending to read the book, you focus on him, and his thoughts gradually fill your head.

'Ok, Chan, focus. You can do this. Just... read your notes... focus... it would be rude to leave, right? I'm not gonna be able to focus like this.'

There was a small part of you that thought he didn't actually have feelings for you, and that he was just a pervert. But from the way he's struggling to study because you sat at his table, you can tell he really does like you.

'Do you want to go for coffee after this? No, that's stupid, it's too late to get coffee. What about... Wanna go see a movie sometime? That's stupid too. Ugh. How do you ask someone out without being cringy? Maybe I should buy some flowers? No, I'd have to carry them around all day like an idiot. This is too hard. I should just jump into a volcano. That would be easier... But this is such a good chance. I have to say something before I miss another perfect opportunity...'

His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's going to say to ask you out. He said something about missing another opportunity... how long has this been on his mind? You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you think of every time you talked, wondering when he was thinking of asking you out. There have been a few times where he looked like he was going to say something, but just kept quiet. Was that him chickening out? Maybe you should put him out of his misery and ask him to dinner.

You tune back into his mind, just in time for him to imagine a scenario involving you.

He's sitting in the library across from you, exactly how you are now, but he's wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "Hey babe, why don't you stop what you're doing and take a ride with me tonight. I'll make it worth your while." He winks, and a motorcycle comes crashing through the wall to stand next to him. He takes a seat on it, and you run up to get on behind him. He revs the engine a few times to look cool. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his six pack through his shirt. Then he rides the motorcycle out of the hole in the wall and into the sunset.

You can't stop a chuckle from escaping your lips.

"What are you laughing at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Um, nothing. Just remembered something funny my friend said earlier," you lie.

You both go back to 'studying'. That was a close call. Not that he would ever guess what you're doing, but you did want to see where that fantasy was heading. You don't have to wait long before another one starts again.

You're both sitting in the library. He clears his throat, and you look up at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but... would you want to... maybe... go out with me?" he asks. "No." You say flatly. Then you take your textbook and smack him across the face, before leaving the room. 'Chan, that would never happen,' he thinks to himself. The daydream resets, and you're back where you were before, sitting across the table from him as if that never happened. He suddenly stands up, grabbing your attention, and walks over to your side of the table. He sits on your textbook, forcing you to look up at him. "We're done studying for today. I'm taking you out for dinner." "But-" "No buts. I won't take no for an answer." "I guess I have no choice then," you say, giggling. He fixates on your smile, they way you look at him, your lips... and everything freezes.

Chan buries his face in his hands. He wanted to be a cool, suave ladies man, but even in his imagination he loses his composure when you smile at him.

It's cute to see him like this, reminding you of when you read his mind during the test. The first thing he did was imagine holding your hand. It's possible that his feelings have gotten stronger since then, because now he's struggling just to ask you out in his romantic fantasies.

He's still sitting on the table in front of you, and he takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. His other hand cups your cheek, and guides your face down to him. Your lips press into his, and you melt into the kiss. He breaks the kiss, and looks into your eyes. "Let's take a rain check on dinner," he says, and his hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "What are you-" you start, but he lifts your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the side. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere as well, and he drinks in the sight of you. "Chan, we're in public. Someone might see us." "Good, let them. I want everyone to know these," he says, grabbing your tits, "are mine." With one hand on each breast, he massages them, and kisses you again. His thumb grazes over your nipples, and you moan into the kiss. You can feel him smile, and he pulls at your nipples while he gropes you. His hands travel down your stomach and to your waist. He's quick to unbutton your pants and pull them down. He massages your ass over your underwear, and his thigh parts your legs to rest itself under your cunt. You gasp, and he slips his tongue in, deepening the kiss. You roll your hips, rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh. He grabs your waist to help guide you on him, and you continue grinding on his leg as the feeling in your pit starts to build. "Not so shy anymore, huh?" he teases. "You want everyone to see you humping my leg." You roll your hips against him faster, trying to feel as much as you can between multiple layers of fabric. He watches your breasts bounce as you buck against him, and he sits there mesmerized at how good you look when you're fucking yourself on him.

Your alarm goes off. You both jump in your seats. His daydream instantly vanishes as the noise brings you both back to reality. You scramble to shut it off.

"Sorry, I forgot I set that alarm." "Oh... Does that mean you're done?" he asks. He looks at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

'Shit. I was too busy being horny that I completely forgot to ask. Ugh.'

You decide that if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself. "Actually, I have something I wanted to ask you," you say, and he instantly perks up. Your feel your heart beating, and you hesitate for a moment. You know he'll say yes, but you still feel nervous all of a sudden. Asking someone out apparently doesn't get easier even if you have nothing to fear. Finally, you make yourself say the words.

"Do you want to go out sometime?" He pauses, and starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean. "Um... like you want to hang out? Like a friendly 'go out'?" "More like a date 'go out'."

"Oh... OH. Yes!" He coughs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, let's go out sometime."

He can't hold back the grin that forms on his face. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Really?" you say, feigning ignorance, "That's crazy. I didn't know you were interested in me."

"Yeah... I've liked you for a while," he says shyly, and his cheeks turn pink. God he's cute.

"In that case," you start, walking around to his side of the table and grabbing his hand, "there's something I want to do." You pull him up to his feet, and lead him to the bookshelves. You walk into an empty aisle near the back. "I really want to kiss you." His face turns bright red, and you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat. "O-ok," he stutters. He's completely different from the Casanova in his daydreams, but the juxtaposition is very endearing.

You cup his face and lean in for a kiss, and he kisses back softly. He doesn't know where to put his hands at first, but he rests them on your waist. Gently, you push him back against the bookshelves and press your body into him. He melts into the kiss, and his confidence grows enough to lower his hands to your ass.

For the first time, his thoughts are completely silent.

You're the first to break the kiss. "Do you want to go a bit further?" you ask. "Further...?" he asks, and when your hands leave his face to travel down to his hips, his eyes go wide. "What if someone walks in on us?"

"Then they'll know I'm all yours," you whisper. With the way you're pressed up against him, you can feel his erection forming. If his daydreams didn't convince you of his exhibitionism kink, this sure did.

He nods his head, and you lean back in for another kiss. You palm his crotch, and as you slowly stroke his bulge, you feel him harden under your touch. He grabs your hand, stopping it in its track. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sorry, I just..." he hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I want to be the one touching you." You remember everything he's fantasized. That is what he likes. "Go ahead," you say. He turns you around so that your back is on his chest, and he brings his hand between your legs. He kisses your neck while he rubs you, and you lean your head back into him. His hand moves into your pants, and he feels the wet spot in your underwear. He moves it aside, and his fingers circle your clit. When he finds a spot that makes you twitch, he presses into it, rubbing it harder and faster until your body rocks into his hand. His other hand snakes under your shirt to grope your breast, and he plays with your nipple. He rubs it and pulls at it, earning a moan from you. The fingers on your clit stroke you faster, and you can hear how wet you are as he moves in and out of your folds. The sensations from your breast and your core has you bucking wildly on him, and your ass presses against his dick. He buries his face into your shoulder, dampening the moan he lets out. He grinds into you from behind, with no rhythm in his movements.

You can feel your orgasm building, and you can't control how you hump Chan's hand while he continues his brutal pace against your cunt. He works his fingers, caressing your folds and rubbing a sensitive spot. You writhe under his touch, and you know you're close. You feel the dam burst, and he continues to rub circles around your clit as you buck into his hand, riding out your high. His hand continues to hold your pussy as he humps your ass, feeling his own orgasm building. He moans, and his pace slows down as he finishes on you. You're both breathing heavily, and he takes his hand out of your pants.

You both lower yourselves to the ground in exhaustion, and you turn to face him. He leans back against the bookshelf. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," he finally says, and you have to stop yourself from saying yes, you did know.

"Me too," you admit.

As much fun as it was peeping into his thoughts, the real thing felt way better.

"Do you... want to make plans for our date?" he asks. You completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. "Maybe we should get cleaned up before we think about next time." "Oh, right. Do you want to come to my dorm to shower?" he asks, before adding "Just to get cleaned up! I didn't mean- unless you want to-"

"Yes," you say, answering his question before he overthinks and uninvites you. "I don't want to have to go home like this."

"Yeah, um, alright. Come with me."

You go back to the table to get your stuff, which thankfully is still there, and he leads you to his dorm.

You didn't end up studying, but you did end up with a boyfriend, and that's more important anyways.

Although he would argue otherwise.

EPILOGUE:

You're chilling in Chan's room while you wait for your final grades to show up on the school website. You check your phone, it's finally the time they said it would be posted. You both open the website.

"Yes!" he yells, "I got a 93%!"

You wait for the page to load, and when you see your mark, you breathe a sigh of relief.

You barely passed, with 1% over the failing grade, but a pass is a pass nonetheless. Your GPA fell significantly after you started dating Chan, but it worked out in the end.

He looks at your score.

'Wow, what a terrible grade.'

He looks back at you.

"Hey, you passed! Great job!" he says, and gives you a high five.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan #chan smut #chan x reader #chan x reader smut

[nomazee]

Hello, congratulations on your milestone! 🎉

May I have (for the mix-and-match 😚) Dr.Ratio and the word-concept "bathtub"? 🫢

Take your time! ❤️❤️

this one was fun to write too (as per usual with ratio) i've written for dr ratio so much in the last two weeks i think i am becoming him.... Im slowly morphing into veritas ratio please save me... THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING this was lovely :3

my 1k event!

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“No way. You take bubble baths with a rubber duck?” 

Veritas freezes for no longer than a millisecond before whipping his head around to see you in the doorway of the bathroom. He’d been relaxing just moments ago, sinking into the hot water with his eyes closed, and yes there was a rubber duck in the bath with him but that was not by choice. It just happened to be there when he ran the bath, and he opens his mouth to argue but is quickly cut off by your endless rambling. 

“Anyways, I came to wash your hair. One of your assistants told me you just left in the middle of your usual work hours, and I thought, ‘wow, how odd, the Ratio I know would never do that!’ And then I thought, what better way to cheer my dear friend up than keep him company and wash his hair! It did look a little greasy today.” 

“I am not your dear friend,” he argues mockingly, but the bite in his voice falls short when you circle around the bath and set down your paraphernalia on the tiles next to you (a microfiber hair towel, shampoo, conditioner, some miscellaneous hair foams and sprays that he really does not trust you with). “You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Get out of my bathroom.” 

“This is our bathroom now, Ratio. We’re a community, you and me.” 

“It’s ‘you and I.’”

“Exactly! You and I, a community. You’re getting the hang of it now.” 

Veritas sighs, surrendering any potential of a relaxing evening to your whims. This is, unfortunately, how it usually goes, and he has yet to make a real effort to stop it. A voice in the back of his head taunts him because at his core, he has zero desire to stop it at all. 

“Come on,” you keep babbling, threading your fingers roughly through his already-damp hair. It’s not a pleasant sensation at all, and he winces and holds back a pained yelp. “It’s kind of like going to a spa, or whatever. I’m trying to pamper you. Be grateful!” 

“There’s nothing to be grateful about when you’re trying to scalp me,” he could push your hands away easily, bat you off and make you leave. Instead, though, he gives you a minute to tame your inelegant movements into something gentler. He hears the sound of a bottle uncapping, and then your hands are back on his scalp, lathering honey-scented shampoo into the layers of his hair. 

“Is this better?” you ask cheekily, tracing circles in his hair, digging your fingertips in and scratching just a little bit, hard enough to feel it but light enough that it’s still soothing. Veritas sighs through his nose, deep and heavy and sinking back into the water. There’s no mocking retorts, no quips, no sarcastic tone, just the even cycle of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeat thudding in his ears. If he tries hard enough, focuses enough, he can hear yours too, but it makes his stomach twist with an uncomfortable, unnameable feeling. 

In your bundle of things that you brought, there’s an empty plastic cup, and you use it to scoop water from the tub and rinse the foam from his hair. Veritas feels wholly exposed, for obvious reasons among others, and the urge to kick you out still sits heavy in his chest. Right next to it is a warmth, though, something holding his sensibility hostage, something that finds this more comforting than it would be if he’d sat in the bath until the water went cold, all alone, without your hands washing his hair clean of oil and grime and the weight of his research. 

You break him of his reverie, but the sudden sound of your voice isn’t as intrusive as he anticipated. “You know, you should start using this oil thing for your hair, I got it from one of my coworkers,” by now, his hair is completely rid of any remaining shampoo, and your hands are rubbing a thin layer of conditioner into the ends of each strand, “and it’s supposed to help your hair grow. I think you’d look great with long hair, Veritas, don’t you agree?” 

“What, do you think about that often?” It’s supposed to be something snarky, something to shut you down before you dig too deep, but you never catch the hint—it’s your best and worst quality. 

“Maybe,” you admit, heft in your words, a density that needs to be cut open and examined. He’s good at that—good at looking and prying, but he’s the worst if he’s next to you. You’re nowhere near as thorough of a researcher as him, but he thinks (with a sense of embarrassment) that when the subject is him, you’re the most qualified person around. “Wouldn’t it be nice? With your hair all down to your shoulders, maybe. And if you really think it’s a hassle to take care of, I’ll just do it for you.” 

He’s perfectly capable of taking care of his own hair, thank you very much, but the idea of having you wash it for him, brush out the tangles in it every other day is appealing to a starving man like Veritas. He aches, and the skin at the nape of his neck itches. 

“You’re saying nonsense,” he says, and he can feel the way his brow has tightened and he instinctively goes to chew at the dead skin on his lips. “My hair is perfectly fine the way it is.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you respond, “just giving you options.” Your hands finally leave his hair, and suddenly the water in the bathtub feels frigid and icy, and Veritas represses a shiver. “Your hair is squeaky clean. Now, get out of the bathroom! It’s my turn to hang out with the rubber duck.” 

“Would you—?!” Veritas turns to glare at you, but the impish grin on your face makes him falter. You’re incorrigible. “The duck isn’t mine! And you have your own bathroom. Stop invading my space.” 

“Sigh,” you say aloud, because you’re corny and theatrics are written into every part of your personality. “Oh, grandest Ratio, I really did think we were friends, but you wound me so deeply! All this time has meant nothing to you! All this new shampoo that I bought just for you, gone to waste…” 

“For gods’ sake,” he mutters, reaching for a set of pajamas that you’d so conveniently taken from his own dressers and brought with you while on your mission to wash his hair. “Turn around so I can get dressed and then you can use the bathroom. So annoying.” 

“Not annoying enough to kick me out, though,” you say, and you’re completely right, and Veritas will admit that one day, but certainly not today.

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gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin @hanyi-writes

#nora hits 1k #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio x reader #ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #veritas x reader #oh veritas my beautiful annoying obnoxious scholarly man

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1

Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.

There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!

Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!

Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.

None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!

Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!

If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.

I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!

My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!

POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!

Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.

That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.

It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.

But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.

My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.

People were HORRIFIC about Louis.

It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.

My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.

POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?

While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.

For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.

But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)

I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.

POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!

As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!

I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!

POINT#5: You are NOT Black!

This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!

For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?

An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!

I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.

Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.

My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.

Conclusion

We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!

And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #character design #black characters #black character design #black culture

[colonelarr0w]

I love your writing so much!!

Can I request some comfort Sukuna where he finally breaks down the walls around readers heart who has been hurt previously years before…reader made him wonder why they didn’t ever let him see them cry before and that bothered him.

Sypnosis - Love wasn't for everyone, you had long since accepted that fact. But ... were you really okay with being alone?

Warning(s) - None besides mature themes and some foul language.

A/N - Oh my god I loved this request so much. Reader is definitely a little bit too much like me in this one, but it's okay because at least she somewhat fixed her issues!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Love wasn't for everyone. 

That was a hard pill to swallow, but it was one that you had swallowed after so many years of being constantly disappointed. One after the other, it was as if the heavens above were taunting you. Either that, or they were punishing you for some heinous crime. 

Even though you wanted so desperately to experience what everyone else did; stolen glances, random flowers, gentle kisses, passionate sex, late-night dates … you had just come to the conclusion that no matter what you did, it just wasn't for you.  

And you were okay with that. 

Yet, it was annoying to then hear others come to you spewing their bullshit. 

"You just haven't met the one yet!"  "Don't worry, love will come to you when you least expect it." 

"Trust me. The moment that you stop looking for love, it comes to find you." 

"You're quiet," Sukuna says harshly, dropping his finished cigarette onto the ground and snuffing out its orange hue with the toe of his boot. Your head jerks upward, blinking for a moment before you clear your throat – you hadn't meant to fall into a daydream.  

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay," you answer quickly, lifting your own half-finished cigarette to your lips and inhaling. You hoped that the smoke would ease your nerves, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.  

Sukuna's eyes roam over your figure, his mind taking notes on your expression and body language. Your eyebrows are pinched together, eyes flickering to look at anything but him, your lips are turned downward in a frown that he somewhat wishes would go away. Your shoulders are stiff, back standing as straight as a line. Your hands are shaking. 

"Tch," he clicks his tongue, turning his body and half-stepping towards you. His fingers close over your wrist, pulling the cigarette away from your lips. "You're a shitty liar." 

Your eyes cast themselves to the ground, embarrassment heating your cheeks. He falters, but he toes out your cigarette anyway, then turning to face forward again – he doesn't want to make you any more uncomfortable than you already are.  

"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a beat of silence, hanging his arms over the railing of your apartment's balcony. Your eyes flicker to him for a moment, silently admiring the way that the moonlight illuminates his face and the tattoos inked into his skin.  

"Nothing that would interest you." 

Not when it comes to you. Talk to me, he wants to say. But the words fall dead on his tongue. He doesn't turn his head to look at you, only humming in acknowledgement.  

Another beat of silence passes over you and Sukuna. It gets you wondering … did he even like being around you? After all, the only reason why he kept meeting you after work was because he had offered you a ride home. In return, you offered him cigarettes. A fair trade. 

"Interesting or not," he hesitates, biting his tongue, "'s not good when you keep all that stuff in." 

You freeze, hands tightening their hold on the railing as you stare out at the cityscape. Already you can feel tears beginning to gather along your waterline. You try your hardest to swallow them away, but nothing.  

"I-I said it was fine," you manage to choke out, trying to subtly wipe at your eyes. Sukuna notices … he always did.  

He reaches into his pocket for something, then nudging your arm with a handkerchief closed between his fingers. You take it, mumbling a quiet thanks before wiping your eyes with it. "I'm sorry." 

Sukuna doesn't answer, he doesn't have to. It's more of a silent understanding that yes, something is bothering you, but in your own time you would open up to him about it. Maybe it wouldn't be tonight, maybe it wouldn't be tomorrow … but eventually, you would.  

He shrugs in response to your apology. "Nothin' to apologize for." 

Another beat of silence passes over you both, this one more comfortable than the last. Sukuna reaches into his pocket, taking out the cigarettes that you had given him. He opens the box with his thumb, hesitating on taking another one out.  

You eye the box out of the corner of your eye … it was the only reason he even came into your apartment, wasn't it? 

To your shock, he drops the box off of the edge of the balcony, watching it through half-lidded eyes as it falls out of sight. You turn your head to look at him, finding him already staring at you.  

Neither of you say anything.    

One minute turns into two, two into four, four into six.  

"Y'know, I get the whole … wanting to be alone thing," Sukuna says, turning away from you so that he wouldn't have to look at your slightly pained expression. He leans further against the railing, gaze focusing on the blinking lights of a nearby billboard.  

"You can tell yourself all you want that you want to be alone," he finally turns to you, "but do you really want that?" 

You freeze, eyes wide like a deer that had been caught in headlights. Blankly, you stare at him, mind struggling to mull over what he had just asked you.  

Did you really want to be alone? 

"I-" You pause, swallowing the lump that had settled in the center of your throat. "I don't." 

With that, Sukuna swallows all of his pride and tugs you into his arms. You fold into him, nails biting into the back of his leather jacket – the one that reeks of smoke and of must. But at the same time, those two comforting smells remind you that right now, in this moment, you aren't truly alone.  

Do y'all want a part two of this? Or like a series of Sukuna and !Non-Trusting girlfriend? 

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna fanfiction #sukuna ryomen fanfiction #sukuna fanfiction

[athenagranted]

idk if you're still writing the post-cemetry scene fic with pining eddie (idk if i'm describing it right) but i would love to hear more about it/see a snippet or too if you feel so inclined 👀

someone asking about angsty pining fic in the month of our lord april 2024? this was such a lovely surprise 😭 i'm gonna be honest with u anon i'm likely not going to publish 911 fic again BUT because you asked so nicely i'll give you a few older snippets from my draft:

Eddie sighs, breaking the stare. “You have a key, you know,” he says finally. “Feel free to come join me whenever you want.” He turns on his heel and walks back inside to finish his goddamn brownies, leaving Buck standing in the doorway.  It’s silent for a few minutes. He’s in the middle of measuring a tablespoon of espresso powder when Buck steps into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. Eddie feels the weight of Buck’s gaze on him as he folds the powder into his brownie mixture, but he doesn’t turn to meet his eye until Buck speaks.  “Is that…” Buck falters. He clears his throat. “Is that my recipe?”  “Yeah,” Eddie says gruffly. “Chris asked me to make it. Said he wanted to share it with his friends when they come over tomorrow for their playdate.”  Buck snorts. “Man, you can’t call it that. Chris nearly bit my head off last time I tried. Kept reminding me that ‘playdates are for kids, Buck,’ and that he’s not a kid anymore.”  Buck emphasizes that last bit with air quotes, and Eddie can’t help but grin at that. But his smile fades instantly, remembering the somber look on Buck’s face when he’d opened the door. He highly doubts that Buck came over just to commiserate about the trials and tribulations of watching Christopher grow up.  Eddie bites the bullet. “Why are you here, Buck?”  Buck shifts nervously. He shrugs and looks away from Eddie. “I — I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer that. You’ve never asked me that before.”  Eddie scrubs at his face. “I've never had to ask you that, Buck. Things are different now. You’ve been busy.” 

+

“Wow,” Buck says acidly, all traces of heartbreak gone. “I’ve never heard that one before.”  Eddie frowns. “What?”  “Really, Eddie?” Buck’s voice cracks on the last syllable. He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. Just — unbelievable.” “Buck — what are you talking about?”  “We were just trying to protect you, Evan," Buck mocks. "You were never supposed to find out. We kept it from you because we love you. Any of that sound familiar to you?” Eddie’s breath hitches on the word love, because he doesn’t know, he can’t know, but then —  Oh.  Fuck.

+

Buck: We’ll get through this just like everything else. I promise. It’ll be okay.  Buck: Eddie, did you eat enough today? Should I come by and bring you some food? Buck: You know you’re still my best friend, right? That’s never going to change, Eddie. Never.  He reacts with a thumbs up or a tap-back heart on most of the messages, too exhausted to do anything else. He replies with a thumbs down to the message about food, certain that he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Buck so soon. He knows he’ll have to face him in person eventually, but his tired, broken heart just wants to postpone it as much as he can.  The last one, though, is a balm that both soothes and agitates Eddie’s burning, aching heart, and he taps out a brief, Thank you, you too. Always, in response. It feels like too much and not enough all at once, and Eddie wishes once again that he was a little better at resisting Buck, that he didn’t feel that need to reply to his every message lest Buck worry even more about him. The only one he actually acknowledges is a message that comes in at 2:43 AM on Sunday. As he opens the message, Eddie absentmindedly wonders if Buck’s having a hard time falling asleep for the same reason as him. Probably.  It’s a link to a new exhibit at the Griffith Observatory, accompanied by a text that reads: Can I take Christopher here next weekend? Eddie squeezes back tears as he replies with a brief, Of course, and puts his phone down, letting the darkness swallow him again. 

+

Hen beats him to it. “What happened, Buck? I thought you really liked her. Weren’t you planning to introduce her to Maddie and Chimney next week?”  “Not anymore,” Buck mutters. “I broke up with her.”  “What?” Eddie snaps head snaps up. “Why?”  Buck doesn’t meet his gaze, his lip quivering. The rest of their team is watching them, eyes darting back and forth, and Buck blinks hesitantly before swallowing down a sip of coffee. He wipes the cream off of his upper lip and looks Eddie in the eye.  “You know why,” Buck whispers. 

#i love sad men. also thank u for the ask btw it does mean a lot that someone was still thinking about this fic <3 #rae writes #fic: blue skies #answered #anon

[skiesofrosie]

sometimes, it's hard to be good

pairing: joe liebgott x reader

genre: fluff, conversations about life

a/n: horrendously self-indulgent, but i hope you enjoy.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I don’t think I’m a very good person,” you blurt.

“The fuck?” Joe says, confused.

It weighs on your shoulders like a stack of bricks, a truth that sends your mind into a frenzy. Joe noticed it a few days earlier, the way you started to cook, and wash the dishes, despite the half and half system you both have. The letters you sent to check-in on old acquaintances, despite them having never bothered with you. Your choice of books, a sudden affinity for self-help that you shove into your most hidden shelves.

“Are you having a fuckin’ identity crisis or somethin’?” Joe stopped you, just as you were about to take care of both his and your laundry for the third time that week. “Or do I pick up the chores too slowly, ‘cause I can do better.”

“No! No!” You said, a little flustered, then laughed to cover it up. “I’m just doin’ it all ‘cause I care about you.”

He kissed your forehead then, a little unsure. Truth be told, the overcompensation stems from the lack of doing enough–or at least, feeling like it. Joe is your other half, and he picks up well on his half too. If you cook, he will clean. If you do laundry once, he’ll take care of it next (even if he tends to mix the whites and the colors). But the insecurity seeps into your head like poison, the misbelief now running through your blood, and it makes you shoulder more than you actually can.

You slowed down too, because you realized the need to feel like a good person is inherently selfish. To really be good comes from the choices you make, and sometimes, the greater good requires you to be the villain.

Right now though, that’s all mixed up in your head, which means you feel like a piece of shit.

“Where’d ya get that idea?” He asks, now setting Dick Tracy down to pay you full attention. “Is someone tellin’ ya that shit? ‘Cause I’ll kill a–”

“It’s me,” you interject, shaking your head as you slap your book to your chest. “That's what I think.”

Curiosity washes over, as he furrows his eyebrows together and stares at you as if you’re dumb. The both of you are sitting on your balcony, the sun shining streaks of light across his face, and you wonder if you’re worthy of a man as strong and beautiful as him. 

The summer today is glorious, a little sweat trickling down your temples, but better than the way your nose freezes in the winter. Joe and you have made this a routine every Sunday, afternoons spent outside in each other’s company, to catch up on some reading. Your little apartment faces the San Francisco life, and even if the stench of running gas is discomforting, it’s still home. For Joe, it’s homeostasis; a reminder that the war is now behind him, and the domesticity you both have always dreamed of, is now real.

Today though, in the pits of your overthinking, you’re hardly reading the words as you scan the pages.

“Hey,” he gently probes. “What’s goin’ on up there?”

His fingers are creeping towards yours fiddling with each other on your lap.

“I,” you start, but find it difficult to reason. When his hand slips into yours, squeezing it in encouragement, you continue, but not without a sigh. “I found a photo from when we were in high school, and…I realized how many of them I don’t talk to anymore. Friends that have drifted apart, friends that I’ve cut off, or they’ve cut me off. It got me thinking, really thinking, about all the decisions I’ve made, all the people I’ve loved and lost, all the mistakes I’ve made and it all crashed down on me like I hit a brick wall head-on with your cab.”

You stop mid-thought, paying a good look at him listening intently to you, eyes a twinge downcast.

“It made me think that maybe I’m not doing enough, or I’m doing nothing right. That I’ve been selfish, and I have this urge to uproot my entire life and start afresh,” you finish.

He looks into the distance, fingers still entwined with yours as he collates the rush of thoughts. It makes his heart ache to know that you feel this way, because to him, the world owes you for your kindness. But he admires the way you know when it’s time to abandon your good and patience, because it fails to be returned.

“Joe?” He hears you call.

He speaks. “If that’s your logic, than all of us are fuckin’ shitheads.”

You gawk at his response, sputtering, “what do you mean?”

“Sweetheart,” he says, then turns to you unflinchingly. “I spent three years shooting Krauts just ‘cause I could. I did what I was told, convinced myself that I’d be doing the world a favor. Those were actual fuckin’ choices I made, and now I have to live with ‘em in my head.”

“But,” you say, “those people were shooting at you Joe.”

“Not all of ‘em,” he says, shaking his head. “Not all of ‘em.”

A silence falls over you both. It never occurred to you how difficult it is to actually be good–to make the right decision all the time. Even the sun, with its daylight to the skies, streaming into people’s homes to wake them up for another day, blinds you if you look at it for too long. It burns when you get too close, blazes ‘til there’s a drought.

We are all made up of imperfections, after all.

“We fuck up,” Joe adds, quietly. “Hell, we fuck up with each other too, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile, “you caused all my whites to go pink last week.”

“Hey,” he lets go of your hand to smack you. “I bought ya your favorite cookies at Betty’s to make up for it!”

You can’t help the laugh that breaks loose of you, despite the heaviness in your chest. In an infinite list, one of the reasons you love him is his ability to pull you out of your own mind, and make you laugh ‘til tears pool in your eyes. 

“Seriously though, we ain’t bad people just ‘cause we fuck up. We’re shitheads if we don’t try to do better,” he says, his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles. He throws his other hand up, the comic falling onto the ground. “I try everyday to be a better fuckin’ person, but I slip up. You will too. But at least ya try, you know?”

You know he’s right. Like the chocolate cookies he bought for you to make good on the clothes he ruined; like the moments you apologize to each other in petty fights, and figure out a way to make things better–even if you falter, all there is to it, is taking the next step. So even if you still worry, you can at least do that. And what better than to have Joe Liebgott by your side, a man who will never speak anything less than the truth.

“Baby steps, right?” You nod.

He nods, standing up, walking to you and pulling you to your feet. He slips his arms around your waist, as you cross yours behind his neck, pecking you once, twice, and you’re about to make out with him on your balcony–

‘Til a blaring honk from the road makes you jump apart.

“Fuck!” He yells at the road, and you wince, but with amusement. “I’m tryna get some, okay!”

This time you swat at his shoulder, as he guffaws, starts leaving kisses on your neck. You melt into him.

Baby steps, definitely.

“Oh and sweetheart,” he breathes against your skin, and you hum. “You’re the best fuckin’ person I know on this planet.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

@she-wolf09231982 a little snippet of Joe :D

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

Hello! If you don't mind, this is half a vent and half an ask both to you and to your followers who have had some experience?

I feel like I want certain aspects of a romantic relationship, the idea of having someone "special" is very appealing. Especially since I find myself falling in the trap of romance tropes, and I really do feel that I want to find that one person who I'd feel safe being physically close with, and not just because I turn my brain off to suffer through it but to actually enjoy it.

I know that I'm rather attracted to men, in theory at least, but whenever there's even remotely a thought in my brain that a polite conversation may turn into something more I get nervous, kinda in a bad way. I feel like I want to put a barrier in and I'm afraid they'll be reading into my behaviour too much. It makes me feel as if I like to play pretend in my head but I'm too much of a coward when real life gets involved.

I've been identifying as ace for years now, and I just turned 24. No experience in the dating department, I've been slowly making my way to accepting being at least arospec as well, possibly just aro, but for some reason it's been so much harder for me. Asexuality just clicked. This I think I may be fighting because the idea of a relationship seems too nice to give up and I've already had a bad experience with an extremely undernegotiated QPR (ended quickly but left a bitter taste nevertheless).

I just wish I could not think about it? But I also feel like the societal expectations of romantic attraction are much more pressing than sexual one. I don't want to lead anyone on, and I don't want to feel this little bit of dread whenever I have a conversation with a guy who I know doesn't have a girlfriend. That's another sign of being aro, right? Being able to be comfortable only when the possibility of the other party wanting you romantically is non-existent.

Sorry for this being so long. Thank you for listening, either way.

Romance definitely has a hard to explain quality to it, and I think that can make it questioning if you're aro especially tricky. It is possible that anxiety you're feeling when a situation could turn romantic is a form of repulsion. It's not uncommon for romance repulsion to feel more like anxiety or nervousness, and for people feel like wanting to go and hide. Alloromantic people can be nervous too sometimes, but it usually comes with a feeling of anticipation and still being drawn to the other person. Or they will usually have either trouble with anxiety in other areas, or issues with romance (romance related trauma for example). Sometimes it can be tricky to know exactly what it is, but if the stuff below doesn't sound like you at all, than repulsion is a likely explanation.

The other thing I would point is that fully alloromantic people often have people in real life they are experience a romantic pull towards, who they really want to be in a romantic relationship with. And if you're not experiencing that, that could also be a strong sign of being aromantic.

Being aromantic, and even romance repulsed, if you are, does not mean you can't have a very important person in your life. I know you mentioned a QPR that didn't go well, and it's up to you if that's something you ever want to try again, but even if you don't. remember that deep bonds can come in all forms of relationships. All types of relationships, including friendships, familial relationships, etc. have the potential to be very special of very deep if you end up connecting to someone in the right way. So whatever path you choose to take, don't feel like this isn't possible.

I'll throw this out followers too if anyone wants to share their own thoughts or advice.

All the best, Anon! Good luck!

#vent post

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

Begging for you to talk about OJV Stans and Marj’s friendship. Mari coming out to Stan first and whenever she is having a meltdown him always zooming to find Kenny or Kyle is so wholesome. I always head cannon that Stan would view Marj like a little sister so your interpretation of their friendship makes me so happy. I would love to hear more facts/head cannns about them :3

Oh my god first of all HELL YES OJV Marj and Stan, their friendship slays so hard and I love that you’re asking abt it!

One of the things about OJV Stan is that he IS the Dad Friend. By which I mean he’s extremely protective but also unequipped for actual crises, and is prone to inadvertently indulging in shenanigans. The way this extends to Marj? Lemme get goin.

So when she came out to him, bro was CONFUSED like “uhhhh why am I the first person you’re talking about this with? Why not, I dunno, Kenny or something” like Stan fully isnt the person to go to for advice but he IS the person to confide in (plus he gives really good hugs if u need them) and he actually cried when her answer was “I just felt like I could trust you is all” this sweet boy, if he doesn’t know what to do in a situation he’s GONNA find someone who will, so he went “what about talking to Kyle? He might know more about this than me?” And she read him for absolute filth lmao all “well speakin of, that’s why I came to you. You have your own little secret that you’ve been scared to bring up, dontcha” AGDGJKLH

Nah but seriously, their friendship is so wholesome, she frequently scolds Stan for indulging Kenny’s recklessness, he’s out here like “dude Marj that’s a pyramid scheme don’t fuck with that shit” (she winds up running it lmfao) and may not always be the most observant person, but he knows his friends and ALWAYS recognizes the signs of Marj starting to shut down, and she knows that. She says the word and Stan is finding her someone with the emotional tools to help. I also like to think that Stan COULD be one of those people. OrangeJuiceVerse Stan Marsh is actually very emotionally intelligent, but he isn’t confident enough in that to think he has any room to help others. It’s the same reason that later down the line he wrestles with taking on a sponsee.

A more fun note: in that first year of college, the trio of Marj Stan and Cartman are THE musical theatre gang. I’m talking they are DESTROYING karaoke. I don’t know why I have this headcanon but I do and I love it. Another is that when Stan gets in trouble with her he gets so guilty for disappointing her lmfao like out here looking like a sad puppy all “I’m sorry Marj Ken and I thought hanging off the roof was the best way to get the top piece of his sculpture attached” smh “don’t tell Kyle” “don’t tell me what?” Lmao

And Stan is SUPER protective of anyone in his group, plus he’s kind of a social justice warrior lol he isn’t confrontational as Kyle and Cartman are but he’s GONNA go “hey dude that’s not cool” call someone out for being a dick and he’s intimidating when he gets mad! Like OJV Stan is a BIG BOY he’s a gentle giant for sure but fuck with someone he loves and suddenly the golden retriever boy is SCARY. karaoke trio nights someone says something transphobic and he is there all “the fuck did you just say to her?” Now Marj and Stan are both the ‘muscle’ of their group. Both are tall and strong and could definitely fuck someone up. They don’t, but they could. Both are pretty gentle in nature which is super sweet, but they could do some damage if they had to. They’re a slay duo tbh

That’s what I got rn dude, thank u for the ask I love the OJV homies!!!

#asks #south park #headcanons #OrangeJuiceVerse #stan marsh #lmm voice: look at my son #marjorine stotch #bad bitches only

[gregmarriage]

gonna become pepe slivia charlie, while trying to write the plot for this fic

#i have figured out a title but honestly watch me change it later #i’m not gonna reveal it until i know i’m not gonna change it #or you’ll find out when post it either way #tho it’ll probably take a while to get posted imao #i’m easing back in bc i’m rusty i’m not setting myself a deadline or anything #but i would like to get it done and posted at some point is all #tho i’ve only just started it so either way it’s gonna be a while before it’s anywhere close to done #but she fun! #really gotta figure out plot points tho #bc like i have the outline and i know what i want to happen (mostly) it’s just putting it together and making a coherent thing #i’m rusty!! #tho also i am just like this™️ #wanna just take fics fully formed out of my head and they’re perfect and then i just post them #job done 👍🏻 #but nopeeeeee #starting is probably the hardest part #bc once i get into the flow i’m like okay now this happens etc #idk different parts can be hard for different reasons but i just need to get to a certain point and the fic will come together ✌🏻 #manifesting 🕯️🕯️🕯️ #gwen rambles #gwenposting

[todayisafridaynight]

time a flat circle why the hell am i usin the same loafers i bought for one cosplay of my fave antagonist for another fave antagonist

#snap chats #can i even call it cosplay. why are police sirens going off in the bg oh my god shut UP #anyway yeah ill elaborate. Super Snap Stalkers will remember my p4 era and will remember the time i did in fact do an adachi cosplay #i deleted the og post like an hour later. plus that blog's gone. but im sure some freak can find it if they dig hard enough #ew i think i was 17/18 in that pic (not at all that long ago) ok anyway. #i use the same loafers for my aoki outfit. and yeah i do Regularly wear my rgg outfits i TOLD YOU its functional cosplay i QUIT #just funny that like.... damn everything always goes back to square one LOL #these busted ass old ass loafers still rockin with me years later #if im feeling cheeky i think i will post all my rgg outfits actually. for halloween #hang on gotta be depressed and cringe for a moment #cause ive always liked cosplay but whenever i did it it never felt. Good Looking #like i always just felt like my face never worked for the charas i wanted to portray and so thats why i say with a heavy heart #that aoki's round-ass square-ass head is perfect LOL it makes me wanna throw up looking in the mirror #i got the same weird lips. ok not that squished Similar but Its Awful that he makes me feel comfortable with my face now #at least my eyebags arent double deckered... i at least look like i get sleep.. some days. #breaking !!!! objectively one of the most vile bitches in this franchise makes you feel comfortable with your body and existence #NAW to continue from last post if i had a webcam i prob coulda done a cosplay y7 stream LOL thatd be funny #anyway since this tag ramble is just pure cringe let me round it off with a final bit of cringe #the Forbidden Mention of my trans masato hc cause one reason why i have a Teehee over the thought is how raspy his voice is #and i only really now realized how right i was tonight because my prof called on me to speak and when i tried speaking DAWG. #the forbidden acknowledgement of Myself GROSS #BUT DAWG MY THROAT WAS FUCKIN CRUSTY it felt like sandpaper EW?? WATER FOR YOU?? christ. i hope that was just a one-time thing #ok im leaving now BYE

[hxneyvanity]

ughhh i need more gothic lit book recs :(( thinking of possibly starting dracula

#<-just finished reading picture of dorian gray #I love reading classics!! and reading in general!! #but for some reason its really hard for me to just go to the bookstore and pick out something i like i have to like hype it up #in my head for months and then i finish it in a week and rinse and repeat until i find something new

[steakout-05]

headcanons i have about Craig the scientist :)

as are most of the characters i have headcanons for, Craig is on the autism spectrum. he has a flat effect to his voice and facial expressions, doesn't really get most social cues, doesn't know how to react to others in pain the "right" way, misunderstands metaphors and speaks in quite a direct manner because it makes the most sense to his brain. he's quite a literal thinker. he also tends to hyperfixate so hard on a task that he forgets his basic needs and hygene, and thus has quite an unkempt look underneath that hazmat suit of his (which i will get into later!). Barry often ends up needing to get Craig something to eat because of how long he hyperfixates on something.

Craig sometimes doesn't exactly pay attention to his tone of voice, so sometimes he can say something that, to him, sounds completely normal, but because of his tone, can end up sounding really ominous to other people by accident ("We know who you are, Barry.")

Craig has traumatic cataract in his left eye (or wherever the fuck craig's visor crack is supposed to be in canon lol) from the explosion in 'Level 2' and is half blind in that eye. his eye has a very clouded look as a result of the injury. he's also got a huge scar there too that required some pretty gnarly stitches later, and his skin is almost completely numb around that area.

Craig also never really had the best eyesight before the injury, so he's always wearing these big ol' nerdy glasses underneath his helmet. and yes, they are tacked together with a band-aid lol

Craig is one of the few scientists who is not a clone of Peter Simpkins, the late friend of both Professor Brains and (in my headcanon'd canon) Craig. i like to think that Craig and Simpkins knew each other when they were first recruited by Legitimate Research and was pretty close to both him and Brains, and since Simpkins died, Brains has kind of taken more of a liking towards Craig (mostly out of loneliness and needing someone to help around at the lab, but he has a genuine fondness for him under his demanding and angry exterior).

There's a bit of a fan theory that Craig is the same guy as the scientist in the 'Robot Bird' rock opera, which i like to believe is the case. i mean, he's got the same monotone voice as Craig, it's gotta be him. i hope this does end up becoming canon because i think it'd make for an interesting conflict between Barry and Craig!!

Craig may or may not be related to Lab Lady.

Craig's counterpart in the mirror universe is named Kayla.

Craig is demiromantic and is questioning his sexuality (he thinks he might be bi or pan), though he definitely knows he loves Barry <3

Craig has an unhealthy habit of wiping his embarrassing memories, like, a lot. he wipes memories of awkward accidents in the lab, particularly painful failures, and most importantly, the memories of losing literally all his stuff and his career to Barry, which is why he doesn't immediately recognise him in the shorts. Craig has a lot of trouble recounting stories from the past because of this memory-wiping and felt a sense of emptiness, which getting hit in the head certainly didn't help with, so he tried inventing that apple in the Multiverse Madness event to get some of them back. it was pure dumb luck that Barry didn't end up witnessing what happened to Craig in the 'Robot Bird' opera and both are completely unaware of the disastrous can of worms that could have opened. bro's gonna end up like wallflower blush if he doesn't keep that memory erasing under control

and finally...

under his helmet, Craig has messy dirty-blonde hair, a rounded face that has a few stray facial hairs he forgot to shave, a long scar down the left side of his face, hazel coloured eyes and pale skin. this design is inspired by the designs made by @dexterno-artz and @schnabel53 respectively :D

this is a sketch of my finalised(ish) craig design!!! i've shown earlier versions of this guy in a couple of older posts but i haven't really revised his design much until now. i kinda had the idea of him looking like a stereotypical nerd and then made him messier. i might tone the amount of hair he has down a tiny bit but also i really like the nerdy bird's nest thing he has goin on :) i like to think he literally hasn't brushed his hair in several weeks and it's just become a bird's nest from nights of staying up doing science stuff

how i feel about barry tbh. he's literally so dumb i love him

(also apologies for the photos being kinda blurry and me forgetting to turn off the filter. again. in my defence it looks really nice and orange on my phone)

sometimes i like drawing him saying stuff from the shorts to get a feel of how he'd look when talking and make sure he looks juuuust nerdy enough for me to go "yep that's craig". also his big,g, handns,s,

drew this as a quick side profile sketch to get a general idea of how i want to draw him from this angle. he's talking to barry offscreen and falling in love with him <3

stupid little comic with a stupid little interaction that would definitely happen between these stupid little guys <3 barry being a little asshole every now and then is very entertaining to me. i need to see him antagonising craig and starting an old couple bickering argument with craig, that would heal me i think

i think i'll post more of this design in the future, i really quite like it a lot :)

#jetpack joyride #craig jetpack joyride 2 #jetpack joyride 2 #headcanon design #yeag sorry the photos are so fucked looking #my room does not have good lighting.... like..... at all #my sketchbook is also literally falling to pieces lmao #i'm gonna get a new one soon but damn. my poor sketchbook #i didnt even do anything to it....... why must it fall apart and die on me.......... #anyway YEAH craig design!!!! #i quite like this design a lot #i feel like there's something that could be added to it but i don't wanna make his design more complicated than it already is #that first drawing of him kinda looks like his eye is bleeding lol #it's just a really big scar dw #craig having traumatic cataract was inspired by my dog getting traumatic glaucoma in his eye #also i think craig would go hard as like. a character who's similar to wallflower blush #except instead of everyone forgetting her but her remembering them #it's craig forgetting everything that happened to him and then finding a way to restore the memories and then he gets SO PISSED at barry #they'll sure need a lot of couple's counselling after that blunder #i kinda wanna make designs for steve and toni #especially steve!!! #how do you think they'd identify steve from the other scientists. would barry just stick a big piece of paper with an S on it to his face #answering my own question: yes he would absolutely do that #steve is the one i feel like both barry and craig tease the most #i find steve literally being so nervous about being perceived that he runs away and damages property to be extremely relatable #also fun fact: craig's hair and eye colours are kinda based off the colour i see the word craig in??? #ok this is gonna be tricky to explain but i think i might have grapheme colour synesthesia #it's basically a condition where you can see or VERY heavily associate colours to a specific number or letter #and for some reason my brain has christened 'craig' as being a very specific sort of yellowy green! it's what i see in my head when i think #-of the word 'craig' so i decided to make him kinda blonde and have hazel eyes (which is basically a mix of green and yellow)!! neato!!

[eyivibyemi]

✧ I won’t really write descriptions for these, but see original post tags for explanation/commentary on the song snippet ✧

#This was literally just off the top of my head improvising words that rhyme (as is obvious from me rhyming the word #'on' with the word.... 'on' (what's going ON my name is ON' etc. lol) but after actually thinking about it this kind of seems a little #sinister?? why is his name on the news? why is he fleeing town? makes me think of of some guy who's killed #someone or is finally getting caught for his crimes so one last stop before he flees town is he returns home to his husband (who he #calls Hummingbird sometimes I guess) and is like 'erm... tee hee.. I can't tell you why but I shall leave. farewell' etc. #also 'I guess I could show you' having a bad implication like.. yeah I COULD show you the dead bodies and evidence of my crimes #but I will spare you from that and simply let you live in ignorance (at least until you see the news at 10.. but I will be long gone by #then.. eating green beans somewhere lol).. ANYWAY.. 100% unintentional but you could actually almost read some sort of meaning #out of this one. until the green beans part ghhbjb.. I try so hard for everything to just be meaningless gibberish #that has no connection but I suppose sometimes a connection can be made. alas.. a perhaps accidentally Dark seeming song snippet #OR alternate theory. uhh... actually his name is on the news for a good reason. he donated all his money to charity and now #he's fleeing town just because he's embarassed to be publicly recognized.. a shy philanthropist OR an evasive murderer #BOTH versions of him like green beans. which is the truth? up to listener interpretation lol.. Also I #still find it immensely funny for some reason to do this lower sounding style of singing. which not that I really care about like having a #Broad Range or something since I don't think it'd even be possible to have one in my position (as someone #with zero musical/vocial training/etc.) BUT because part of what I find fun is like.. experimenting with all different sorts of sounds #and also doing choir type stuff. So then I do want to be able to sound like multiple people.. if that makes sense? I want to have a really #high voice and the a really low voice and have them sing together and it sounds like a duet or something when it's really just one person. #etc. Thus have a passing interest in learning to adopt different singing styles if I can. because then that's funny and I can do a wider #variety of things like it's all different characters or something as if all the song snippets are done by different people or etc. #(maybe just part of the nature of it being experimental). #And the low voice is always the goofiest sounding to me and very 'fake' seeming I guess #like blatantly is just someone putting on an affect or whatever but still in a kind of fun jokey way lol #beepo tag

[tarakau]

.

#Ok so I had a seizure/ministroke at the age of 17 which wiped a lot of my brain's knowledge #I basically had to learn how to write and read again and it just hasn't been the same ever since #From straight A student I fell down to Ds because suddenly I had this impairment at the end of high school #Grammar punctuation etc absolutely GONE in my head #I've recovered as much as I could but I still do shitload of mistakes and errors and struggle with low key dysgraphia and dyslexia #(on top of really highkey dyscalculia) #And I tell this to people who edit and or grade my things! Like I'm trying very hard #Don't think I'm dumb just please lemme know if there's anything wrong I'll change it #And for some reason sooo many people disregard this and they're downright almost malevolent #Like it'd be enough if you just wrote There's a comma missing #And not make fun of the mangled sentence that comes out of me not using a comma there #Or if you find me using the wrong i/y in a verb just!!! Idk cross it and write ir correctly idk #Instead of adding a really mean commentary? #Like what have I done to you people I don't even go here #Sorry for the rant dealing with editing and corrections on my thing and it just made me sad #Because I'm not used to being treated like this #At least not anymore #God the past two days are just.... Me reliving all sorts of elementary and high school traumas huh #Thank you Petr Ilyich Tchaikovsky for helping me through it

[yueebby]

Dying thinking about gojo literally pinning and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just... completely clueless about it💀 and she thinks it's just gojo being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!" 💀

she loves me, she loves me not! — gojo satoru x fem!reader

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo (what’s new), highschool!gojo, he’s pathetic but in love your honor, oblivious!reader, ooc gojo i got carried away soz

notes. anon, when i first read your ask i literally started giggling and kicking my feet. that. is. so. gojo coded.

“please reject gojo and put him out of his misery,” utahime implored, taking hold of both of your hands. you think she’s asking, no, begging you to. beside her, shoko nods vigorously. 

“but why?” you furrow your eyebrows, perplexed by their sudden request. “i can’t reject someone who doesn’t like me.”

shoko giggles at your comment. her laughter only wanes when she notices the dead serious look on your face. “... you seriously have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“not really,” you shrug, criss-crossing your legs to find some comfort on the hard wooden floor in shoko’s small dorm. it was late, past midnight, and the three of you had a shared mission tomorrow, but for some reason your two friends managed to rope you into their drinking circle.

utahime and shoko exchanged a significant glance, their unspoken communication raising your curiosity. utahime takes a long sip of her beer. 

“hopeless. they’re both hopeless,” your short haired brunette friend lamented, pinching her nose bridge. it leaves a faint pink mark.

intrigued, you lean in closer towards the two, “care to elaborate?”

“you’ve never once questioned satoru’s borderline inappropriate behavior?” shoko asks you earnestly. you ponder for a moment, trying to recall any moments in the two years you’ve known the snow-haired boy.

“satoru is satoru…” you mumble, shaking your head in denial. 

utahime’s eyes bug comically. she slams her can of beer harshly on the ground. you wince at the loud noise of the metallic can hitting the floor.

“you’re kidding. even i can see through that jerk!” utahime’s black pigtails sway wildly. 

“[name], how about what happened in shinjuku last week on our day off?” shoko quietly reminds you of last weekend when the two of you along with satoru and suguru decided to empty your pockets in one of tokyo’s largest entertainment wards. 

utahime’s head whips back and forth from her best friend to you, “eh? what happened?!”

from behind the dressing room curtain, you voiced your concerns, “shoko, i don't think we can afford designer clothes on our student budget.” the cream-colored silk dress you wore clung to your body, its price tag undoubtedly surpassing a year's worth of your student earnings.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” shoko’s voice carried a knowing smile. “just come out and show me the dress!” you think satoru’s carefree attitude is rubbing off on her.

with a nervous sigh, you emerged from the dressing room. the dress fit like a glove, accentuating your body in just the right places.

bright flashes from shoko's phone startled you, and she chuckled deviously while rapidly typing. she tossed her phone onto a luxurious cushion, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exposure.

“you look so sexy. even better than the model.” she gives you two thumbs up, eyes roaming your figure. you feel flushed at her praise.

“as flattered as i am, there’s no way i can afford this,” you look down at the dress, lips downturned. “i’d be in debt for life.”

“no need to worry,” shoko winked, leaving you confused. given that her income was similar to yours, it didn't make sense for her to be able to even dream of shopping designer.

a soft thud interrupted your conversation. you turn around to see a blue lollipop rolling on the expensive carpeting of the store.

“suguru, are my eyes deceiving me or is that an angel?”  satoru's mouth is wide open as he shamelessly checks you out. he takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, gripping the fabric of his white shirt. the windbreaker he is wearing rustles at his dramatic movement.

“i think… i’m experiencing a heart attack! shoko help!” he kneels in the middle of the store dramatically. shoko shares an unamused look with suguru. the pair nod before simultaneously kicking satoru.

during all of the commotion, you stand awkwardly in the million yen dress. 

“satoru, are you okay?” you watch him take the two blows from your friends, concern evident in your voice. he grunts softly before gently taking ahold of your hand.

“no,” he croaks with a playful glint in his eye. “i’m wounded and there’s only one way to fix it.”

you look at him, your gaze heavy with concern.

“i’m afraid you’ll have to kiss me for the pain to go away.” he added, blinking at you expectantly with his blue eyes.

 you lightly shove him away from you. “you’re an idiot.” satoru laughs loudly.

“that’s what love does to a man.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m going to change out of this dress, don’t get into any more trouble while i’m gone.” 

 satoru’s grip on your hand strengthens, halting your actions.

“how much?”

“excuse me?”

“the dress. how much for it?” he stands up to his full height, reminding you of the obvious height difference between the two of you. 

you're at loss for words. gojo was crazy, but definitely not crazy enough to spend a million yen on a silly dress.

shoko happily chimes into the conversation. “one million yen. it’ll be two million yen with the rest of my purchases though!” 

suguru’s calm demeanor is replaced with shock. the black haired male’s jaw drops, “two million– satoru, you’re seriously not thinking about–”

“hah? who said i’m paying for your stuff?” gojo makes an ugly face at shoko.

she raises her hands innocently, “it’s not my fault the dresses come in a set. if you want to see your beloved [name] in that dress you’ll have to pay for mine as well.”

you watch shoko and satoru engage into a silent argument. the tension in the fitting room section is so thick, you think it’ll take a special grade weapon to slice through it.

trying to alleviate the mood you tell gojo, “satoru, you really don’t have to–”

“i’m buying you that dress.” 

“o-okay.” 

half an hour later, satoru happily strolls out of the store with an arm around your shoulder like he’d just won the lottery.

perhaps gojo is just naturally flirty, you had tried to reason to shoko and utahime.

it’s been a week since the eye-opening conversation with the two and you’ve found yourself on cleaning duty with said snow-haired boy. it was a miracle that satoru even showed up. he had a tendency to skip his turns, often resulting in a long lecture from yaga.

as the two of you worked silently in the empty classroom, you couldn't help but admire the setting sun. its golden rays painted the sky with hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything. unknowingly, while you gazed at the sky, gojo's gaze was firmly fixed on you.

breaking the silence, he asked, "have you ever thought about getting married?"

his question caught you off guard, causing you to momentarily pause from wiping the windows.

“not really,” you replied, biting your lip gently. “unless my family decides to arrange a marriage. you know how unforgiving the world of jujutsu sorcery is.”

gojo's grip on the broom tightened, his eyes locking onto yours with a newfound intensity.

"we should get married y'know," he blurted out.

the piece of cloth you were using slipped from your hand in shock. surely, he couldn't mean what he was saying. after all, the two of you were only second years.

“what?”

“i’m saying i think i’m in love with you.”

“oh.” 

silence engulfs the room once more before a soft giggle escapes your lips.

satoru can only watch, entranced.

“that’s good to hear! i love you too– and suguru and shoko! perhaps the four of us should all just get married.” you chuckle into your hand.

satoru can't help but stare at your hand in envy. perhaps if he were the palm of your hand, he’d be able to feel the touch of your lips.

but he couldn’t. he was cursed as a man with an overpowered innate technique, and despite it all he couldn’t even gain the one thing he desired. gojo satoru watched you, eyes filled with a mixture of longing and defeat.

his devastation does not go unnoticed by you.

you were under the impression that he was grumpy because yaga had forced him into cleaning with you.

"cheer up, satoru! if we finish early enough," you continue, your tone highspirited, "we can go to the new crepe shop that opened last week. my treat!" you winked, and that immediately caught his attention.

“like a date?” his eyes sparkled with hope.

you shrug, a smile on your face. “i suppose if you look at it from a certain perspective…”

“great, it’s a date!” 

good things come to those who wait, satoru thinks, humming happily as he starts to sweep the room at an inhumane pace.

maybe in ten years time the two of you will be happily married with eight kids, he smiles to himself.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #this is me coping bc of the leaks