#because people on the internet have a bad habit of trying to get others to take their side so they make up all sorts of shit to settle some | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seravphs · 9 months

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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — IDOL! GOJO x ROCKSTAR! FEM READER

Gojo loves the untouchable. You’re an off limits rockstar who thinks he’s an idiot. The only thing he can do is take that as a challenge, right?

wc — 6.8k

tags — non detailed mention of idol industry EDs, pride and prejudice type energy tbh, reader is a little superior about being in a rock band and not “selling out”, Gojo has an annoying habit of pointing out their hypocrisy, sneaking around because you’re public figures, nsfw jokes, minor nongraphic blood

Gojo’s not your usual type. He’s too pretty for that, with those long lashes like a doll’s. They’re stark against his pale skin when he flirts with you, peering alluringly at you through half closed eyes like the cheap tricks that get his fangirls to scream will work on you.

He’s too easy to break for your taste, but from what you hear on Twitter, that’s why people like him. There’s something charming about the gap in his image that draws people in. People are dying for a taste of vulnerability because he's so cocky, but it's easy to make him beg.

There’s a million clips all over the internet of the moments he’s caught off guard, carefully hoarded instances in his career where a genuine embarrassed flush comes over his cheekbones, made into gifs and Tik Toks and YouTube videos.

That’s not your thing.

You like people with tough hearts and tougher reputations. People who could take the beating of public opinion without a flinch, not some soft spoken idol who needs his management to hold his hand through an apology. You like your fans, but they know their limit with you.

It’s not love, not like with an idol. It would never be, you made sure of it. You’d quit before you ever issued an apology for dating someone.

You hate to be a stereotype almost as much as you hate the idea of becoming a pushover, but you’ve dated a string of bad boy exes who were all exactly what you would expect for the lead singer of a rock band. A little rough around the edges, dark and smoldering. Men who would wear your red lipstick marks like a badge of honor. People who had never even heard of something like an idol image.

Maybe that’s why no one saw it coming. You were safe, established. Gojo was out of your usual pitch.

It’s too bad for the fans that you’ve always been a bit of a daredevil. Trying new things has never scared you. You’ve always been willing to test your limits to find the gold in the muck. That’s how you grow.

That’s how you ended up here, sitting thigh to thigh with the boy wonder of the idol industry.

“Aren’t you playing a dangerous game here?” You ask as he nudges even closer to you, far beyond what you’re sure his fans will permit. You’ve heard horror stories about the lengths people will go to if they see their idols even look at someone of the opposite gender.

“Why, you scared?”

“You wish. You’re the idol here. It’s your reputation on the line.”

He smiles at you, saccharine sweet. “I don’t like letting other people control me.”

That earns your begrudging respect, even if his bony knee is knocking into yours. He’s so lanky it makes you a touch concerned. Shoko’s girlfriend is an idol, and she’s constantly sneaking her food under her manager’s notice.

That’s another reason why you could never be an idol. Letting someone else dictate your life like that sounds like hell. It was hard enough to convince you to be here in the first place.

Your band doesn’t do promotion, least of all you. It’s all homegrown talent and homegrown fans, but you’re in stasis. Your growth has plateaued. Like all artists, you’re beholden to bills to pay to keep the music going. You’re big enough to know when you have to make sacrifices.

It’s nothing personal. That’s just the industry, from pop stars to idols to bands like you. If nothing else, you all share the solidarity of giving anything for the music. You just think you have a harder limit for anything than idols do.

The host kicks off the segment before you have time to do further analysis.

“Welcome back to Hot or Not, the variety show where we pit your favorite internet heartthrobs against each other! Please welcome today’s guests - they may not be the duo you expect!”

The camera pans to you and Gojo. His smile is instant, soft and natural, as real as if he were genuinely overjoyed to be here. You have to give him props for that, at least. He’s good at his job.

As soon as the camera pans to you, his expression flickers and returns to bored disinterest. He yawns, his teeth pearly white. Veneers, maybe. His tongue flicks around the sharp tip of one canine, his smirk nearly fanged. There’s the feature he’s so famous for, the one that has him edited into cat reaction memes all across the internet. Kitty Gojo and his kitten fangs.

He’s a grown man. You think you’d jump off a building before you let your teenage girl fans put cat ears on you and coo at you.

To each their own, you guess. Gojo didn’t seem that perturbed by it. To be fair, he didn’t seem perturbed by anything.

“Let’s start with Gojo! Remember, if you don’t feel like answering a question, we’ll put you in a surprise challenge with your partner.”

“Sure,” he says easily. “I’m an open book.”

“Let’s start easy. What’s your favorite song off your new album, Blue Spring?”

Gojo makes a face. “Pass.”

“Sorry, maybe you didn’t understand the question-“

“No, I got it. That’s boring,” he says. “Give me the challenge.”

You’re amused despite yourself, and fighting not to let it show. There’s the troublesome personality you’ve heard so much about. He wouldn’t be half so popular if he wasn’t so pretty, but that attitude and that face made for a dangerous combination.

The host is trying to salvage the situation with an easygoing laugh. Backstage, you hear someone mutter, “Gojo is gojo-ing again.”

It’s all so funny until you realize he’s dragging you into his mess as they set up the challenge.

Your host explains the rules too quickly for you to catch in their entirety, but it’s something along the lines of a staring contest. You’re supposed to do everything in your power to make the other lose a straight face, with words or actions.

“Are you allowed to do this?” You joke as they start strapping the electrodes on you to measure your heart rate.

“What do you mean?” Gojo’s mussing his hair up so he looks more artistically roguish.

“You know, just being an idol and all. I figured you wouldn’t be able to do things like this without your fangirls jumping on you.”

“Ah,” he says, scooting his chair closer to you. You’re knee to knee as they finish the last details of fiddling with machine. “You’re one of those types?”

“And that means?”

“You think I’m an idiot because I’m an idol.”

“I didn’t say that,” you protest, watching the monitor to make sure your heart rate isn’t jumping with your words. It’s just a game, but you’re competitive.

“No, but you’re thinking it. What else? Maybe you think idols are also soulless grifters?”

You wince. It’s not that you think so terribly of idols, per se, you just understand and recognize their need to please their company. They’re products before they’re people.

“I got it right, huh?” He’s pleased with himself.

“Am I wrong?” You retort. “You’re really going to tell me you love singing your overproduced pop music for the tween girls who will buy anything you put out as long as you’re pretty enough?”

“Aren’t you here too? Lot of talk for someone who’s sitting right next to the sellout. You know what they say about birds of a feather…”

It’s all in a whisper, so no one else hears - or sees your startled reaction to find out the pampered show dog has a little bite in him. You could retaliate, but if you’re being honest?

This makes you respect him more.

He’s right, anyway. You did sell out by being on this show.

The machine beeps. He smiles, slow and sweet - or at least it would be if you didn’t already know there was an edge to it. “I win.”

“Wow!” You’ve never found the host more annoying. “That got heated at the end, didn’t it, folks? Do you mind sharing what Gojo said?”

You smile at the camera in a way that feels more like you’re beating your teeth. “It’s a secret.”

You’re not mad at him. If anything, you’re impressed. The person you’re really disappointed with is yourself.

So he’s not what he thought you were. So he challenged your biased preconceptions on idols. So what?

It doesn’t mean anything, but you can’t get him out of your head.

The rest of the show is an easy and welcome distraction from your inner turmoil over the possibility of maybe potentially tolerating an idol. Throwing out witty answers and being neck to neck with Gojo in winning mini games is much preferable to having to experience emotions. It’s only when it’s over that the problems start.

You watch as he gets up, biting your lip and debating to yourself. It’s only when he’s halfway out the door that you make your decision. You’ve always been a do or die kind of girl.

“Hey. Want to get dinner?”

You just want to make sure he’s eating. No other reason.

His manager frowns behind him.

“We’re in a weird spot,” he says. “The only thing around are convenience stores.”

“That’s fine,” you say. “We can get instant ramen.”

“I’ve never had instant noodles,” Gojo says.

“Seriously?”

“No, not seriously,” he scoffs. “Just what kind of lives do you think we lead?”

“Deprived ones,” you toss over your shoulder as you lead him towards your monster of a customized car.

“Oh, no,” his manager is beginning, but Gojo is already sliding comfortably into the passenger seat. His poor manager looks nervously at you as you turn the keys. “Are you sure that thing is safe?”

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “If this thing crashes, I’m in here too.”

You don’t think that reassures him, but your own manager will handle it. You pull out of the parking space and head for the road.

Gojo’s impatient. He tries the handle almost before you’re done parking. You’re like that too - always ready to move. This time, you’re one step ahead. You lock the door before he can leave. He gives you a startled look and glances outside again, clearly weighing his options.

“Relax,” you say. “I’m not a crazed fan. Put these on before we attract an actual stalker of yours.”

You toss him a hat, sunglasses, and a mask. You’ve started keeping them in your car ever since you’ve been hanging out with Shoko and her girlfriend, who was famous enough to get recognized in the street for her autograph. He wrinkles his nose but obediently puts them on.

It doesn’t do much to hide his overall air of Gojo-ness. He steps into the store like he owns it, which he very well could.

The steam rises from your bowls and coats Gojo’s sunglasses. You’re surprised he can see inside, but he has no trouble navigating. He tells you he has 20/20 vision.

One thing leads to another and suddenly he’s bragging about his perfect grades when he attended school. He’s a natural genius, which isn’t really a surprise.

“I thought you were supposed to be a bad boy,” you tease. His glasses are slipping down his nose. You reach out to push them back up before anyone notices. His eyes are rather remarkable, after all. Anyone would be able to tell who he was at a glance.

“Me?” He gives a choked laugh. It sounds nice. You’ve haven’t heard it before, not during the show. He was more polished then. The ways in which he rebels against being an idol show up unexpectedly. “Nah. That’s all Getou. He’s the one with a hidden face. You wouldn’t believe what he’s like when the cameras are off.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you,” you joke.

“I’m serious,” he whines. “I’m pretty sheltered. Grew up rich, you know?”

Who doesn’t know? The Gojo name is pretty famous. One of the biggest conglomerates in the entire world, it broke major news outlets when the heir chose to be an idol instead of the next president.

He’s always been in the public eye, but kept separate like art at a museum. You have a nasty tendency of wanting to ruin things that you’ve been purposefully warned away from. It’s sort of a thing of yours, a bad habit you haven’t put too much effort into breaking. The more impermissible something is, the more likely you are to try, like a cat knocking a glass of water off a table.

Corruptible isn’t the exact right word, but it’s what comes to mind. You want to mess him up a little. Put your grubby rockstar hands on him and leave smears behind so his fangirls see his tainted reputation. You don’t, of course. It’s just a passing thought that you wouldn’t risk actually jeopardizing his career for.

It would just be nice to see him live a little more freely.

The temptation clears with the last of your noodles disappearing into your mouth. There are things that are off limits for both of you. Those are just the sacrifices you’ve made for your dreams. That’s all there is to it.

It’s so good you sigh at the loss of it, mourning your empty bowl. Gojo’s almost done himself. The minute he finished his noodles, he lets out a breath to mirror yours, then laughs once he catches himself.

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s get you home.”

You think that’s the end of it. There’s no reason to go any further. You met an idol and he obliterated your previously held prejudices. You’ll never meet again.

That’s not quite how it works out.

When your manager offers you another chance to see Gojo, it’s nonchalant. “Remember that idol you were partnered with on that variety show? I know you don’t like those types, but you seemed to tolerate him well enough. There’s another-“

A yes flies out of your mouth so quickly it’s embarrassing.

Your manager pauses. His eyes narrow. “Didn’t expect you to be so eager, but okay.”

Your face burns with embarrassment. This isn’t like you at all. Even with your exes, you had been cool and level headed. Always the prize, never the one to give chase.

He’s interesting, you try to rationalize it to yourself. You like interesting. Life was mind numbing without a kick, and he was the latest thrill. It didn’t mean anything more.

It’s another variety show. Apparently the two of you had been so popular as a pair that they wanted more.

Gojo’s in the makeup chair when you arrive. The artist is scolding him for blinking while she applies his mascara. He’s whining about his dry eyes.

“Don’t be a baby,” you say, dropping into the chair next to him.

“But that’s what I’m best at!”

“You’re so weird,” you laugh.

The makeup artist groans. “Please don’t encourage him.”

Only Gojo would take that as encouragement. He rolls his eyes and receives a light swat across the shoulder for his troubles. You play around on your phone while you wait for her to be free, but soon grow bored. Instead, you watch her swipe powder across Gojo’s face and dab cream onto the apples of his cheeks.

“Stop staring,” he says.

“How do you know I’m staring? Your eyes are closed.”

“I can feel it.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says, and you know he’s just messing around at this point because you’re an incredible liar. It’s your best quality.

Falling into banter with Gojo is as easy as breathing. It’s no trouble at all to replicate it on the show. From the shadow, your manager gives you a double thumbs up. Dork.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that you’re doing this to drum up popularity for your tour. You’re not the only one having trouble. Gojo pulls you aside after filming wraps up to give you his personal number on the phone he’s not supposed to have.

At night, you get an alert that you’ve received something from Gojo. It’s not a message. It’s a notification that you can save three tickets to your digital wallet.

A speech bubble pops up.

Come to my concert, he says. I got you VIP seats.

Gojo’s impressed you, but you still don’t know about the rest of his band. You’re not sure you want to watch pretty men lip sync and grind on the stage for two hours, but when you tell Shoko, she offers to bring Utahime. That’s conveniently three, so you might as well.

VIP seats don’t include backstage, so you’re surprised when security comes to retrieve you. There’s no backstage pass for this concert, actually, confusing you all the more.

Shoko flaps her hand dismissively at you, encouraging you on. By her side, Utahime is trying to feed her snacks. Satisfied that they’re comfortable, you follow the guard to Gojo’s dressing room. He leaves you there without a word.

After five minutes of waiting for something to happen, you knock. Instantly, Gojo’s voice invites you in.

He’s sitting in front of the dresser, fiddling with his earrings. You’ve noticed seven piercings in total - three on his right lobe, two on his left, and one conch on either side. Before you knew him, you would’ve been surprised an idol would be allowed to get so many. Now you know he bends the rules whenever he’s able.

“Pass me that?” You hand him the disinfectant. “Thanks. I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Then why’d you send me tickets?”

“Thought my roguish good looks and natural charm would win you over,” he says with a smile that says he’s only half joking.

“You’re insufferable,” you say as you bat his hands away from his ear. “Let me do that.”

His hair is soft as cygnet down as you brush it behind his ear. There’s something innocent about his expression like this, watching him from above. His eyes are closed, breaths soft and even as he waits for you.

The silver pools in your hand as you thread it through his ear, a waterfall released when it hooks on. He wears a lot of silver, you’ve noticed. His stylists favor colors that should wash him out but only make him look more angelic. Pale blue silk trims his form, encrusted with embellishments to make him look prince-like. There are sparkles in the inner corner of his eye, soft blush on his cheekbones to make him look sweet.

He’s anything but when his eyelids flutter open and he notices you watching. A smile almost cruel tugs at his lips. His hand reaches for you as if-

There’s a knock on his door for the last curtain call.

“That’s me.” He stands up, brushing his lap off without a trace of anything other than professionalism. He’ll leave you wondering what he was going to do. It’s terrible how good he is at this, though you suppose it’s his job to leave people wanting more. “Keep an eye out for me on stage, will you?”

It’s hard not to. Your eyes are polarized to him. Even when something else catches your attention, like fireworks or confetti, he pulls it back. Greedy, that one.

You’re not the only one. The crowd lives for him. There’s something electric about him on stage. He naturally draws attention with that height and attitude and face, but what happens when he’s performing is inexplicable. You’d call it a religious experience if you believed in a god.

Fate has never factored into your life, but now you’re starting to consider worship. Gojo performs like he was born to be an idol.

Keep an eye out for me, he says, as if you’d have any trouble. You’ll dream about him tonight. The way his mouth fits so sensuously over the words of a love song snags your thoughts like a fishhook. Sick desires run through your blood, each more depraved than the last.

You want to watch him shed his beautiful silk skin for you, become nothing more than man again. You must retract your prior confession. There’s no longing for the altar in you, only a love of sacrilege.

Gojo asks for coffee easily, as if you’re two normal people and not celebrities with a lot to lose if you were caught together. You can’t let him outdo you, so you agree. These are the reasons why your manager curses your recklessness. Shoko calls it bravery, when she’s feeling sweet on you.

The second message comes a second later.

Gojo Satoru 11:25 I only said it to see if you’d agree Here’s my address lol can’t believe you said yes Attachment

You think he gives his address out too freely for a man worth 30 million. The feeling only intensifies as you get out of your car and thank your driver. His gates are pearly instead of the standard matte black, a stark declaration of wealth. He’s practically asking for an incident to happen.

Security buzzes you in. Someone in a white dress - an honest to god maid - leads you to a mini kitchen where Gojo’s waiting. His hair is wet and dripping down his back where his powder blue shirt is darkened to a navy. You thought you had gotten used to overblown displays of money after your first three years in the music industry. Clearly, you were mistaken.

He looks up as you enter, reading a trashy tabloid as he stirs whipped cream into a tall glass of something that looks more like a sugary heart attack than coffee.

You’ve never seen his bare face, you realize. Even that moment when you had walked in on him and the makeup artist, he had been nearly done. He looks practically the same without makeup. People with genetic good looks like him only need to enhance their appearance the tiniest amount.

What really strikes you is how earnest he looks, soft and open-hearted, though that might be because you’ve caught him in his home. This is what you wanted - him without his skin on, naked and without pretense. He’s wearing cotton pajamas and white slippers.

“I thought you’d come later,” he says. “Sorry I got started without you. I was feeling something sweet.”

“I’m early, though?”

“I’m always late,” he says with a one shouldered shrug. “Thought you might be too. Guess you’re not my perfect girl after all, huh?”

You shove his arm off the armrest of his chair to perch on it, ignoring the perfectly good chair across from him. This is better, anyway, easier to talk to him. “Don’t be absurd. I’m everyone’s dream girl.”

Gojo chuckles. “I like confident women.”

There’s been a question on your mind for a while. You knew his group was popular, but all this? Maybe you should’ve become an idol after all.

“Where’s the rest of your band? I thought idols shared rooms.”

“Some do,” he says. “Not so much when you make it big. But this is my family home, so none of that applies.”

Gojo Satoru of the Gojo conglomerate. How had you forgotten? It shouldn’t be so easy to ignore something like that.

Gojo shifts the conversation easily, but you notice. So he doesn’t like the connection, then. “How was the concert?”

“Don’t fish for compliments,” you say, stealing a sip of his drink before it reaches his mouth. It’s too sweet for anyone’s standards. You spit it back into the cup. He takes it from you, eyes it consideringly, and takes a sip anyways.

Your mouth drops. “You’re so gross.”

“Only for you, baby,” he moans, humor like a teenage boy. “Call me names again.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“It’s fine, it’s just saliva. Now tell me the truth. You couldn’t take your eyes off me, could you?”

They’d probably sooner pop out of your head and roll away than leave the sight of him, but you can’t tell him that after all you’ve said about idols. Instead, you push off your seat to go rummage through his cabinets. He has a fully stocked coffee cart in this room and the very latest espresso machine, all to choose his diabetic monstrosity instead.

“You don’t need to respond,” he says cheerfully. “Your silence tells me everything I need to know.”

“Do you think you know me that well?” You shoot back. His fridge is so big you think you could fit into it. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’ve registered that he’s moved from his seat as well, and now stands just behind you.

“Of course I know you,” he says. “I understood you the moment we met.”

“You’re very confident,” you note.

You have a weakness for confident men.

“So you liked my concert. Can I come to yours?”

You imagine Gojo in a mosh pit for a second. It sends you into a laughing fit while he stands there, bemused. You can’t shake the incongruous picture of him, with his face like a carefully crafted porcelain doll, getting rowdy and wild with your fans. Ridiculous. Never in a million years.

“We don’t have VIP seats,” you warn him.

“So?”

“So it can get dangerous.”

“Aw, you do care about me.”

“I care about the fat lawsuit your company’s going to send me when their moneymaker breaks his leg at my concert. It’s not happening.”

“You scared?”

“No, but maybe you should be.”

“Come on,” he says. When had he gotten so close? It’s distracting. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

Gojo had invited you to his concert. It’s only right to return the favor. An idea starts forming in your head, though you’re not sure it’s a good one. You tell him anyway.

Usually when soundcheck is over, you have a little bit of downtime to relax backstage. You’re expecting someone tonight, however.

A rough knock on the door announces Satoru Gojo, spoken in your security guard’s rough voice. Well, he really introduces him as pretty boy idol, but you can guess who it is.

He looks discomfited, a rare occurrence, as he closes the door behind him.

“What’s with you?”

“You’ve got groupies,” he says, looking rattled.

You fight a smile.

“Don’t laugh,” he pouts. “They’re insane. One of them tried to chase me here.”

You can’t help yourself. A giggle bursts out of you. When he tries to leave, you pin his hand to the handle and coo reassurances at him so he won’t.

When you head out the door, he surprises you by grabbing your hand. It’s as nonchalant as anything he does, so you rise to the challenge he sets by refusing to react to it. You only separate once you reach the stairs; him to the spot you’ve made for him behind the barricade, you to the stage.

This is one of your favorite venues, moody and atmospheric. The lights are dimmed to your preferred setting, but your eyes adjust quickly. Your crowd is restless tonight, shifting on their feet as whispers follow raucous laughter through the crowd. Noise on noise, the way you like it.

The wood of the floor is a little sticky beneath your boots as you walk. That’s history gumming the soles of your shoes, generations of artists before you. You’re starting to feel it now, the electric thrum of pure joy in your blood.

Shoko is strumming light tunes on her guitar to warm up, her eyes closed. You hope she doesn’t take it too hard that Utahime couldn’t make it tonight, though you know if she’s upset, she’ll channel into her music.

The crowd settles as the hour draws closer. Shoko’s fingers are liquid now, running through chords effortlessly. You wrap the cord of the microphone around your hands, letting the tension build mindlessly. A stage is like home to you. The crowd plays in the palm of your hand, energy ebbing and flowing as you will it.

It starts with a guitar solo from Shoko. By then, the crowd is already burning with excitement. The first burst of sound from the speakers has them roaring, cheering even though there’s no lyrics to it. The smallest smile touches her lips as she plays to the crowd, showing off exactly why she’s lead guitar for the greatest band in the world right now.

You step in on her heels, your voice rising over the music. Back before you knew how this felt, you almost quit singing, annoyed by the sound you were forced into. This is more your tempo. The almost guttural curl to the ends of your words, the rasp of your hoarse voice - this is beautiful to you.

The crowd is yours. Anything that goes on is within your jurisdiction, higher than any judge or god. You notice everything in your realm.

People are starting to move now, their bodies falling victim to the music. Their mouthes form the vowels and consonants of the lyrics as their bodies shudder and jerk, chained to the rhythm. Bodies ricochet off each other, love taps of respect for your aggressive voice, soaring above it all.

In the corner, there’s a violent eye of a storm. You think it’s a particularly enthusiastic dancer - perhaps a circle is about to form - before you realize what’s actually going on.

A fight is breaking out. You catch a glimpse of snow white hair, realize it’s near the barricade, and your stomach drops.

It’s Gojo and another man, ignoring the security guard trying to separate them. You try to stay professional and play through it, but then you see red.

Gojo’s hand flies to his face, his nose dripping with crimson. He doesn’t look any more injured than that, but you’re angry enough to step in now. Shoko stops as soon as you hold your hand out, the music veering into a screeching crash.

“You, in the black tee!” You realize you should’ve been more specific when what looks like the entire crowd looks down at their equally black shirts. “No, the one that just punched Gojo Satoru. Yeah, you, asshole! No fighting at my gigs! Especially not my guests!”

He had the audacity to yell back. “I was just showing him a warm welcome!”

You climb off the stage. Gojo didn’t show any fear while he got hit, but there’s concern in his eyes now as you drop to the ground by him.

“Wait,” he says, “wait, wait. I don’t think you should-“

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, pushing him behind you until his back hits the stage. “Let me handle this.”

You get in the man’s face. His eyes are bloodshot - drunk, probably. “Who do you think you are, starting shit at my shows?”

“You’ve sold out,” he slurs. Definitely drunk. “He doesn’t belong here.”

“You don’t get to tell me who can or can’t come to my goddamn show,” you snarl, vicious and low. “Get out.”

“You can’t-“

“Get out before I make them drag you out.”

When he doesn’t move, you motion security over. “Does anyone else have any complaints?”

The crowd is eerily silent for something that was moving like a beast with one mouth before, singing in unison. You clamber back on stage, turning around to grab Gojo’s hand.

“What?” He says.

“Up. Now.” Your tone brooks no argument. You haul him up with you. He stands awkwardly as you drag him towards your mic stand, your arm slung around his shoulder. There’s still blood on his face.

“Gojo Satoru is a very dear friend of mine,” you announce into the mic. You see the confused looks in the crowd. Even Shoko seems wary. This wasn’t on the schedule. “If you're a real rock fan, you'd know that music is more than genre. I get it! I didn’t think idols were anything more than corporate shills either-“

“Harsh,” he whispers under his breath, unable to control himself even now.

“But he proved me wrong. He’s a real performer, just like I am, and I expect the same respect for him that you give to me.”

This is your crowd. They listen. Someone whistles.

You sit Gojo down, right by your feet. He gives you a bemused smile as the concert starts again, you moving around him like one of your props. He spends most of the concert lounging back, watching you through half lidded eyes.

It might’ve been enough excitement for one night, but you’ve always been the type to push your boundaries. When the idea springs into your head, you act on impulse, not giving yourself too much time to think about it as you pull Gojo to his feet.

You’re really manhandling him tonight, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s only a little startled as you pull the mic away from your face to get into his space.

You misjudged the distance. Your forehead knocks into his, just enough to sting, but not really hurt. “Do you want to try something?” Your voice is a whisper to not get picked up by the mic.

“Give it to me,” he says, and his smile is a bloody thing.

When you angle the mic towards him, you’re careful about not hitting him this time.

His voice works surprisingly well for rock. You weren’t sure he could pull off such a sound change, but he surprises you every time, matching you best for beat.

When he pulls back, your hand snakes into his hair and yanks him towards you and the mic again. He sings wholly at your command, being jerked around by your desires. It’s an inferno on stage, sweat pouring down both your faces. Behind you, the crowd is screaming so loudly it nearly deafens you.

Not a bad encore, you think as you towel off in your dressing room. Shoko left for a cool down with a bottle of ice water right before you, her post concert ritual, but the look she shot you says that you need to talk. You’ll deal with the consequences later.

For now, it’s enough to have Gojo shaking with leftover adrenaline against you as you sit him down in your chair. You press a bottle of ice against his face, watching him shiver. He’s still pretty with all the blood. Prettier, somehow, like some teenage wet dream of a vampire from a young adult novel.

You want to lick the sweat out of the hollow of his collar bones. Instead, you talk to him to rid yourself of your insane thoughts. It’s always a little crazy in your head after a good stage.

“Well?” You demand. “How was it?”

He tilts his head, considering. It makes you nervous. Now that you know how good of a performer he is, it almost feels like a test to receive his judgment.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says, slowly.

“That good, huh?” You smile, trying to ignore the aching pressure behind your ribcage. You shouldn’t care so much what he thinks. Why does it matter?

“Yeah,” he says. “When are you free? I gotta plan our date.”

“Huh?”

“That was so sexy,” he says. “I was thinking about taking it slow, but I’m not going to last if I wait. I want to date you. I want to marry you.”

He’s starting to worry you. “Did you have a heat stroke or something? That’s really fast. Really, really fast, Gojo.”

“I’ve never been more clearheaded in my life,” he says. You only believe him when the medic clears him of any injuries, even the nose.

“We can talk about marriage later,” you say. “Why don’t you tell me about the date for now?”

Two weeks later, you’re Gojo’s plus one to his first movie premiere. It’s his debut as an actor, and it couldn’t be a better one. He escaped most of the negative pushback that usually comes with transitioning between those two industries, being naturally good at everything. Still, he had worked hard, and you’re proud of him.

It feels like you’re the only one, because the man himself doesn’t even care about his accomplishment. He’s too busy being delighted about hiding in plain sight. The cameras flash at you as you walk across the red carpet, arm in arm with Gojo. Your stylist had coordinated with his. It could almost pass for a couple’s outfits.

“You know,” he says conspiratorially. “When you defended me at the concert, I got hard.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“It was really hot.”

“You know there are people who can read lips, right?”

“I wish they would figure out what I’m saying.”

“Alright,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Let’s get inside.”

Dating Gojo is nothing like what you’d expected and everything like you’d expected. He keeps surprising you, doing wild things to get your attention that you never thought an idol would be willing to get their hands dirty with. He might be even more of a daredevil than you are, constantly pushing the boundaries of what you both can get away with before you’re found out.

In a way, it’s almost like you’re asking for it. You’re both straining at the bit to claim each other. It doesn’t come as a surprise when it does happen, then.

“Huh,” Gojo says over ramen. “We got papped.”

Utahime, understandably, freaks. “What? That’s not funny.”

“Oh yeah?” You say. “Are the pictures good at least?”

“You know we always look good. Could’ve gotten a better angle, but whatever.”

Utahime’s working herself into a minor tizzy in the corner. “Guys, I need you to be more serious about this. This is bad! This is so bad!”

Shoko looks up from her phone and chips on the couch, lying flat on her stomach. “Hate to agree, but she’s right. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” you shrug. “What’s the point? There’s nothing we can do about it. They have the evidence.”

It had been a good run. Two blissful months of peace and quiet. Sneaking around had been fun, giving you that thrill you loved every time someone failed to recognize you and Gojo behind your stupid sunglasses. Still, it was bound to fail at some point. You’re honestly surprised it lasted for as long as it had. You can’t be mad. Two months is more than you could’ve asked for.

“Well,” Gojo says. “Wee-llll.”

“Spit it out,” Utahime gripes at him.

You take another bite of ramen, content to let them argue without you.

“There is something we could do,” Gojo hedges.

“You’re so annoying,” Shoko says.

“No one thinks you’re funny,” Utahime chimes in.

“Hey! She thinks I’m funny!” Gojo frowns. “Tell them you think I’m funny.”

“Sorry, babe. I never lie to my girls.”

“Whatever,” Gojo sighs. “Guess you don’t want to hear my genius idea then.”

“Don’t be a brat,” you tease, knuckling his head. He loves it when you roughhouse with him.

“What if…” The hesitation is real this time. You can tell the difference between when he’s faking it or not. He’s a good showman, but you know him. You place an encouraging hand on his knee.

“What if we went public first?” He says it all in one breath.

You take a moment, turning the idea over in your head. It would wrest back control of the narrative to your team. Even if you might get backlash, it wouldn’t be at someone else’s hands, beholden to their mercy. You like it.

“Sure,” you say.

Gojo gapes at you. ‘That easy?’ His thoughts are written all over his face.

“Why not?” You offer him one of your easy smiles. “I’ve always wanted to say you were mine, anyway.”

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x reader

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thatlittleegyptologist · 1 year

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Got to love it when I get tags that start with “I’m not an archaeologist, but…” because I know I’m about to get a very online misunderstanding of archaeology from a very western perspective.

Today’s (paraphrased) offering is: “Tutankhamun should be left to rest in his tomb, looking at you British Museum. In fact we shouldn’t move the dead from their tombs because it's SACRILEGIOUS”

Tutankhamun is very much in his tomb. It has nothing to do with, nor ever has, the British Museum. If you guys are going to get involved in certain topics it’d really help you to know what's what before deciding on a course of 'action' or even yelling about it on the internet. Otherwise, you're tilting at the wrong windmills. Trust me, there are numerous other windmills than just the BM to tilt at *cough*themetthelouvretheneuesmuseumandthousandsmore*cough*.

The Egyptians don't need their tombs to have an afterlife either. There's a lot of romanticising and overstating that goes on when talking about Egyptian tombs and burial practices, so I understand where the confusion comes from. The most important thing was to receive offerings from, and have their name spoken by, people who passed by their burial. Without either of those their afterlife ceases to exist. Therefore, as per the rules of the Egyptian afterlife, most mummies lost 'access' to the afterlife millennia ago without anyone removing them from their tombs. If anything, having their names spoken by visitors to a museum, and images or actual offerings being displayed, fulfils this requirement more than leaving them where they were. Western sensibilities towards death, and death displays, have got very...hand wringing-y...over the last few years? The way people talk about museum displays and museum workers, you'd think we were doing puppet shows with the dead where there was a big neon sign saying 'come laugh at the gross dead people' instead of thoughtful and respectful displays. Museum workers care a great deal about the dead on display. We know they're people, and we treat them as such, but we also recognise that they're dead and have been so for thousands of years.

But going back to the original point, Tutankhamun *is* in his tomb. He's one of the very few where it's actually safe to have him still in his tomb, though it is constantly monitored and may not stay this way. You see, mummies not being in their tombs is a mixture of a variety of things:

It can be unsafe for mummies to be in their tomb due to environment. After the Aswan Dam was built, it caused the water table to rise, and with it a lot of salt came with it. This is actively damaging many tombs and temples, though they are trying ways to mitigate it. If you put, and I'm going to do this in museum terms, organic material in a hot and damp environment you're going to get mould very quickly. It'd be really bad to have the mummy survive 3000 years only to be destroyed by damp. So a museum where the environment can be kept stable and monitored is ideal.

The tomb may not be suitable to have the mummy in anymore. Many Egyptian tombs are subterranean, so over the centuries they have been subject to collapse. The tomb of Ramesses II is caving in on itself. There's literally bolts and netting holding the ceiling up. Absolutely not safe to put Ramesses II back in his tomb. You leave him in there with a ceiling like that, and then it collapses? Congrats, now you've lost two priceless treasures instead of one.

The mummy may not have been found in their original tomb, nor might we know where the original tombs are. The Ancient Egyptians had this wonderful habit of moving the dead if they were in inconvenient spots, or they were robbing the tomb. Almost all royal mummies weren't even found in their tombs. They were found in a cache (TT320/DB320) at Deir el Bahri, which literally consisted of a cave where they unceremoniously dumped various kings to save them from robbers. Most of these kings were not in their correct coffins, and even the coffins they were in were mismatched from 2 or more different kings. In all, funerary equipment for 50 different kings and queens, and 11 mummies, were found in the cache. This includes the mummies of Ramesses II and Seti I. In the museum in Cairo, they've been returned to their coffins if they had them, and put on display. It is not safe for them in the cache nor in their original tombs, so the best place for them is in a museum.

Space is another concern. Not all these tombs are particularly large, so having a coffin display and visitors in the same space risks both the tomb and the mummy. It is often not safe to do so and thus it isn't done.

Security. Seriously, if every mummy is in their own tomb you would have to have such intense security to stop people from going in there and robbing the place. It's one of the reasons you often hear about 'discoveries' made, but academics knew about it 6 months to a year ago. Not telling the public immediately allows artefacts to be moved and studied without the threat of looting (which does still happen). If you've got all the mummies in their tombs and publicly advertise that, then oh boy are people going to attempt to take them. The area of burials is too large to be covered securely for something such as that.

So, yeah. This got away from me a bit, but the 'put everything back and don't look at it because it's rude and disrespectful' narrative is beginning to drive me a little bit up the wall.

#tbh I'm sick of museum workers getting maligned because people don't understand what they're talking about #or being used as a punching bag for an adjacent topic because people will blame them and not the systemic issue at the core

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kobb4ni2 · 4 months

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[ GENDER NEUTRAL (?) FEM (?) READER ]

My Marine! Reader who is very popular, and for the sake of this idea I’m going to give her as a Vice Admiral. I CAN HEAR YALL BOOING OKAY I KNOW SO BASIC LEAVE ME ALONE😔😔

TW: Imagine Gojo fans….but make them Marine!Reader fans. !!! Also I haven’t watch Film Red but I guess there’s some sort of internet platform to share vids or an internet overall, soo take this sh!t talk with salt.

Marine! Reader is a calm and nurturing person, their charisma with their hard working self made them a deserved Vice Admiral. Ever since you sailed out to the sea you’ve attracted many eyes, may it be admiration because of your strength , or awed because of your undeniable beauty even in battle. And even if you’re not in a mission you would always use your heavy berries (YOU’RE A VICE ADMIRAL U HAVE TO GET THOSE BIG BERRIES) to re-visit the town that you just saved, being responsible to the damages and paying for all of it. People there had to rub their eyes to make sure that you were the correct person. When you were in your white layer clothes you would be calm and try your best to be nonchalant making sure that you were deep engrave on your job but when you visited and started making small talk people were shocked! Over time the civilians you’ve saved from the many villages or small islands you’ve saved have accepted you to their communities. They would make small banquets whenever you arrive, even though you told them several times to not do it, they will always go against your words and hope that you eat well.

Kids would play with you even with your intimidating height, they would swing on your arms and whenever you try to leave they would grab on your legs to slow you down, the kids parents might have been worried but when they saw you intriguing them with a smile in your face they immediately calmed their nerves. Grandmas and Grandpas would always pinch the vice admiral’s cheeks, and since they were normal civilians you had to bend down to make squish your cheeks. (IM GETTING CARRIED AWAY IM SORRY)

But back to plot. Your calming and nurture personality, your beauty that could shine in battle has captured many eyes of other marine, civilians or even pirates! And this where the one piece internet goes in.

Aight imagine someone made an edit of Marine! Reader, it could be you fighting, or even doing an official interview! Cool right! But if anyone ever opens the comment section it would be just filled with the most ATROCIOUS, MOUTH GAPING, EYES OUT THE SOCKET down bad comments💀💀 here's some examples.

Marine! Reader's Fav pet (real!): "The way that it started getting bricked up like its Bob the builder is crazy 😅‼️(I don't even have a wee wee)"

<3: "ten minutes in the room with them and one is walking out pregnant, and it's not gonna them (I'm a dude)"

hewwo:3 : "JUST THE TIP [NAME] PLEASE IM ON MY FUCKING KNEES, IM SO DESPRATE PLEASE😭😭‼️‼️"

Marine! Reader's bewbs mole: "TILL THE WALLS (not the room) IS COVERED WHITE!!!"

[FOR FEM MARINE!READER] ammniaa: "Want their strap inside of me so bad, that i might think that I'm pregnant brooo😞😞😞"

Astro laddie : "My flaps started clapping out of excitement <3"

Star 4 her: "All lubed up and ready to serve 💓💓"

Beeheaver: "Man I don't care if they're 14'9 tall, ITS GONNA WORK I PROMISE😈😈‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥"

In Marine!Reader I thrust!: "Yes [NAME]~ There~ I'm sensitive there!~ Nghh~~

Marine! Reader's bloody bandages: "CMON [NAME] I CAN'T DO ALL THE WORK MY SELF, MY FINGERS HURTS😾💢"

reimikoba: "My muscle memory will always remember their fingers and tongue (＾▽＾) "

pantsonfire: "Not a fishman but, damn whenever I see them in my screen, it's natural habit suddenly is water from their-"

scary monsterz: "bend over and ready, warm and cozy, toys and liquid on sight"

Aw man if yandere [character] ever fins out how popular their beloved Marine! Reader is, they would make sure to cut the wifi GLOBALLY

I'll just end it here, cuz I feel like this is just a stupid ass idea 💀 yall can give me some brain juice aka asks 4 thus doe :3

The edit video I was thinking about when I was making this. (I can't do velocity edits just transition and tweeing💀)

#yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #drabble #yandere op #yandere one piece x reader #yandere one piece #this is just a fucking crack💀💀💀#i may or may not have commented this in some....katakuri and shi long lang comments :3 #hot take but gojo isnt really that fine😭😭#asexuals lesbians when it comes to their favorite male character😈😈‼️‼️🔥🔥#I SWEAR IM WORKING ON THE WARLORD SERIES I SWEAR😞😞#happy new year btw :3 #one piece x reader #one piece

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deckofcookiez · 2 months

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The Alex Kister Situation

Alright; I've been more of a lurker on here for awhile, but for months now--almost a year--I've been a massive fan of the Mandela Catalogue, and this fandom has been a major form of escapism and safety for me. So, I feel the need to say something about the current situation.

To start, I'm putting a link to the document with all of the information about what happened, as it's important to read it and learn about this whole situation in depth:

With that out of the way, I just wanted to share my own personal opinion; personally, Mandela Catalogue has legitimately become my special interest. I have pretty much obsessed over it ever since I first found it, and everything I've written or drawn since then has been to do with it. It's been very important to me, especially due to the community here on tumblr, as this fandom is probably the most supportive and open places on the internet I've found. I feel a lot more connected because of it, and it made me feel comfortable and safe.

I was in a bad mental space today, and when I found out about this, I had a pretty bad breakdown--some might call it an overreaction, but you don't know just how dependent my mental health had become on this series and fandom. (I will be working on avoiding this habit in the future, as it isn't healthy to depend so heavily on one interest)

After reading through the document, and just seeing so many opinions and contributions from others, I am almost certain that these allegations are true. But I always, always listen to all perspectives before making judgement, so I will not be going full "I hate Alex, he's a despicable person!!" before Alex gives his own point of view.

That being said, I do believe Alex has serious issues that he needs to get handled. I am hesitant to call this pedophilia, as from what I've gathered, he didn't seem to have active malicious intent towards minors(correct me if I missed something that said otherwise)--rather, I get the impression that Alex simply doesn't understand boundaries, and genuinely saw his fans as mutuals. He seems to be a person who's manipulative--whether intentionally or not--and his personal relationships, platonic, romantic, or sexual, turn very toxic because of this. So, trying to have personal relationships with fans, people who look up to him and see him in a very different light, results in inevitable toxicity as well.

I get the sense that Alex simply is a young person, struggling with mental health and gender dysphoria, who was thrust into extreme popularity very suddenly, and doesn't have the maturity level to handle it properly. Overall, I do not support him, if he continues to act like this--if he makes genuine, real efforts to deal with his mental health and his unhealthy behaviours, I would respect him for that. I wouldn't look at him quite the same, but as long as someone makes genuine efforts to better themself after doing something wrong, I appreciate and respect that, and may eventually give forgiveness. But, if he doesn't make those efforts, if he continues his patterns and refuses to try and get better, then that is on him and at that point I have lost any and all respect for him. At that point, you are not a good or reasonable person, in my eyes.

Regardless of how things go with Alex himself, though, I want to say...

You do not have to support a creator to enjoy their work!!

I am a huge fan of Danny Phantom, and that show's creator is a genuine piece of shit. Like, a truly despicable human being. That fandom successfully has, just... completely ripped the show and characters from their creator. They have cut him out entirely, nothing he says holds any impact or meaning to them and it hasn't for years. He's seriously fallen off. And it's still a fun, active fandom! The people in there are super neat!!

And, hell, look at the whole mess with J. K. Rowling!! She is an absolutely disgusting person. But so many people grew up with Harry Potter, and still like her stories, without actively supporting her--lots of creators turn out to be really awful people, but that doesn't mean that what they made is automatically awful as well. They still have some kind of creative ability, that happened to produce something that garnered a significant amount of attention.

We don't need Alex to still enjoy the concept, characters, and overall story he's created. We can still make fanworks, still appreciate what it is that drew us to the series in the first place.

Honestly, out of everything that the fallout of this would bring, I was most terrified of the fandom itself dying, as that is what truly matters the most to me. This place, these people are so important to me, and I am so scared of this community falling apart. I've already seen plenty of people stating that they will no longer be associating with TMC, and are just completely distancing themselves from it. It feels like things are already dying and disappearing and it really, really fucking hurts.

I guess what I'm trying to say, is that... if that is your choice, if you truly do not want to associate with TMC anymore whatsoever, then I don't blame you for it. I understand if you can't look at the series the same way after this, and I respect that choice.

But you don't have to, if it still means anything to you. Fandoms are more than just their creators--they're the community that has been built around the work, and this community is possibly the best one I've ever been in. I don't want to see it die. So, just know, that you can still love this fandom, this story, these characters, without supporting Alex. You can still draw the characters, make OCs, write fanfiction, etc. He won't get money from that--only from directly watching his content or buying his merch.

Finally, I'd like to say to go support the victims. They didn't deserve this--no matter what Alex's intentions were. Please support them, and regardless of how this turns out, do not continue actively supporting Alex Kister. I am sure that, whatever his intentions were, he did still harm people and that is not okay.

Also, this is all just my own opinion, based on what I know; I was not in the discord, I don't have Twitter, I don't personally know anyone involved and I have not seen everything regarding the situation as a whole. I simply felt I should state my current opinion, as I'm seeing a lot of people freaking out and spiraling and just leaving the fandom entirely. I wanted to remind people that it's okay to still enjoy this fandom and be a part of it, without Alex. My opinion may change some with new information I find, but overall, I am of the opinion that Alex should not be supported, while the Mandela Catalogue itself can be separated from him and still be enjoyed and appreciated.

And, whatever happens... Adam Murray, Jonah Marshall and Thatcher Davis are officially honorary characters in my stash of little guys. If he's not fit to keep them then they will become my creative outlet instead (and others who love them, obviously). They're very special characters to me, I can't express just how many things I have written and drawn to do with them, and I refuse to give them up.

(another addition, regarding the apparent 'alter egos' Alex apparently had: Possibly consider DID? I know a lot of people with DID will often mistake it for other things, including simply being gender non-conforming, when in actuality they really have alters that just identify differently. Not diagnosing, I don't know enough about him to make any real claims--it was just a thought.)

#mandela catalogue #the mandela catalogue #tmc #tw grooming #tw pedophila mention #This is not meant to spark any sort of controversy.#I just wanted to get my opinion out there bc I feel like I'm gonna explode right now #Will still probably post my art of the characters as I'm proud of it and my art has improved significantly since discovering TMC

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myautisticpov · 3 months

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I think the frustrating thing about self-care discourse is that everyone has different, complicated needs, and so "self-care" can mean literally anything

And, like, yeah, you can be wrong about what "self-care" should be for you at any given moment, but so can the people around you, and so can strangers on the internet

Like, if you're struggling to tackle a task because you're stressed, you might be like "I need some self-care time playing video games and taking a long bath to relax enough to actually tackle this task"

And you might be right, lowering your stress through other means might bring you to a place where you can tackle the task - or you might be wrong and just avoiding the thing

And your well-meaning loved ones might be like "No, the thing you need to do is just sit down and do the task, and then the stress will go away"

And they might be right, the task might only take five minutes and then it will all be over - or they might be wrong and you have other conditions that the anxiety is worsening, and trying to force your way through the task could trigger negative self-talk as motivation for someone with ADHD, or a meltdown for an autistic person, or someone with dyslexia/dyscalculia might not be able to calm down enough to properly do the reading/maths inherent to the task and might make significant mistakes

And maybe the actual answer is something no one thought of, like getting outside help, or reassurance that failing the task isn't the end of the world (lowering your anxiety enough to actually tackle it)

Idk, I think my main annoyance is how often getting it wrong in the moment is framed as a moral failing, like you were being lazy or lapsing into bad habits instead of trying something that didn't work, shit's complicated and constantly shifting, what worked today won't always work tomorrow, and getting it wrong isn't a sign that you weren't trying hard enough, it's just that the thing that you tried didn't work

So, dust yourself off and try again, but for fuck's sake, be kind to your former self for not getting it right away, they were trying too

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atalienart · 4 months

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I have a genuine question about AI. I do use it sometimes for fun because I think it’s neat and I share some images. I’ve always mentioned it’s AI generated and tag it appropriately. I’ve never claimed I’ve drawn it or that I’m an artist. It’s kind of turned into a hobby, but there’s so many Anti-AI-er’s that I think I’m doing something criminal. I just do it for fun and to just destress, and I don’t want to steal anyone’s art or anything. I have no artist ability and I only share it for anyone who wants to see. I don’t make any money off of it, and I will never say I’m an artist. I’ve never used someone’s art for a prompt, it’s always been me inputting a bunch of gibberish into the prompt and seeing what type of output I get. Since you’re an artist I’m reaching out to ask you, is it still wrong? Is it a bad habit I should stop? I don’t want to offend anyone and I’m honestly stressed out I unintentionally am hurting a community of talented people. I’m sorry if I’ve done that I was just sharing a hobby and I never wanted to offend anyone.

You know how I see this? The Al is like stolen toys, you haven't stolen them but someone have and now you have fun playing with them and you share your fun with others. The thieves will steal more toys and eventually they'll try to sell them to you. It's great you don't mean any harm, that you're aware of some moral aspects of using Al. It's great you tell people the images are done with Al. I wouldn't share them online but that's me. I totally get the appeal of generating images, being intrigued with what pops out, I really get it. I just don't think, at this point, there's an ethical way to use Al because of the stolen data. The Al you're using still contains stolen art, your prompts still teach the Al algorithms, the images still flood the internet pushing down human made art, photography etc. And I think it hurts not only artists. I am not a judge and I will not tell anyone what to do. My advice: read about it some more, see what artists say and how it influences them, think if your hobby destresses you or actually stresses you more xD and then decide if it's worth it.

#q&a #Al shouldn't have been given to people in this form #and now everyone suffers

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11x13kyle · 7 months

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have any stupid style headcanons?

oh SO many dude you have no idea

stan will wear the stupidest outfits of all time, go around with his hair unkempt and greasy, have the worst eyebags you’ve ever seen, and kyle will look at him like god…….isn’t he just so dreamy???

they alternate between who cooks and who cleans but by god is stan ALWAYS doing repairs. it’s not just because kyle is lazy (that’s part of it) or that he doesn’t want to get dirty and sweaty (that too) but it’s also that kyle simply has no idea what he’s doing. one time he feels emasculated by the fact that he just sits there while stan does the repairs so he tries to help but he does it so poorly that stan gets pissed and tells him to just let him do it himself, which makes kyle all huffy

stan is in kyle’s phone as “Stan Marsh” and people think he’s a total freak for it. he justifies it by explaining that everyone in his phone is first name last name, even his parents, but that just makes it even more offputting

on that topic, they don’t really do pet names besides the occasionally baby or honey once in a while when they feel really affectionate or the other is in a kind of pathetic state. they mostly call each other by their names or like dude or man. sometimes kyle uses “stanley” as a kind of pet name but he also calls him stanley when he’s really really mad so it’s a bit hard to tell sometimes!

stan gets more jealous than kyle because for all of kyle’s insecurities, he knows stan isn’t going to leave him for some rando. stan also knows this at his core but it doesn’t stop him from getting unbelievably mad when another guy has the audacity to flirt with kyle. he doesn’t even try to hide it either. this isn’t an issue for kyle it makes him twirl his hair and kick his feet almost every time (the only reason for the almost is the times where it’s inconvenient so then it’s just irritating)

stan tries to be a good shiksa boyfriend and participate during jewish holidays, which kyle finds sweet, but he gets SO embarrassed when stan is reading a prayer in front of his parents because his pronunciation is just the worst and it’s basically incomprehensible. he doesn’t blame him, it’s just so so painful and kyle stands there like 😀 the whole time

when they were like 11-15 years old one of their most important intricate rituals was competing over height. kyle was taller than stan for most of those years but there were two occasions where stan outgrew him, and on the second occasion it was permanent because kyle definitely stopped growing by like 14. it was also intensified by the fact that stan was bigger and stronger than kyle, who isn’t exactly weak or anything it’s just. comparatively. the first time kyle notices this he has to fight so hard to pretend like it isn’t making him swoon because having a crush on his best friend is so humiliating.

stan is a vegetarian when he’s an adult but he goes through a two year vegan phase in his early 20s and whenever kyle eats meat he gives him these sad puppy dog eyes about it, which doesn’t actually change kyle’s dietary habits and really just serves to annoy him

stan enjoys working out as a kind of catharsis, mostly like lifting weights and hiking (which has the added benefit of being in nature and giving him the chance to see cool animals) and kyle hates doing this stuff so bad but sometimes he’ll tag along because stan likes it so much that he wants to support him. every time he joins stan on a hike he feels like he’s about to die and it makes him feel like a huge loser because like how is he struggling more with this than his boyfriend who is literally asthmatic. it’s not that kyle hates anything athletic it’s just that what he considers a tolerable form of working out is COMPLETELY different to what stan likes

kyle makes a point to be extremely aware of what’s going on in the world, be it politics, pop culture, or niche internet drama. stan doesn’t give a shit even a little bit. a lot of the time when kyle complains about something some extremely famous person did stan will go “is that a coworker of yours?” and kyle is like ?????no. when kyle explains hyperspecific discourse stan will nod along and smile at him because he doesn’t understand a single word he’s saying but he loves hearing kyle talk

they both like watching football to a certain extent but stan is the only one who actually is invested. kyle only cares if the broncos are close to or actively winning the super bowl, and even then it’s nowhere near as serious as stan takes it. kyle will try to proposition stan in the middle of an important play and stan will move his hands away and go “can’t. i’m watching.” which makes kyle get SO offended

kyle facebook stalks their old classmates and stan thinks this is the actual stupidest past time in the world. every time he does this stan goes “hey dude, have you been outside today? wanna go on a walk?” and kyle says something like “did you see that clyde got divorced again?” and stan goes “kyle, i literally doesn’t care at—wait, really?”

kyle is really controlling of the decor for their house once the two are like actual adults with real jobs. he wants their house to be neat and mostly minimalist and reflect their maturity (save for some photos and cute little tchotchkes) which conflicts with stan’s desire to fill their living space with anything and everything. stan will bring home some shit like a sexy leg lamp or a 6 foot framed and signed poster of john elway and go “living room?” and kyle will screech “NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT GET THAT OUT OF HERE.”

the decor issue is a trauma response to when the two of them shared an apartment with kenny for like 4 years and stan and kenny were allowed creative control, which meant some of the dumbest dude decor ever. it was acceptable at like 22 but by the time they’re 26 kyle is practically begging them to stop

whenever stan and kyle get into a big argument they use comparing each other to randy or sheila to be particularly nasty but they use comparing each other to cartman as like an ultimate trump card. it eventually gets banned because it’s too powerful and that’s not really fair!

#asks #are these stupid? i don’t know. i feel like most of my posts are at least marginally stupid.

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lily-orchard · 5 months

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You mentioned in your JK Rowling videos that you don't like the idea that Rowling's books are tainted by her very touch. I was wondering if you could build on that?

Like I said in the video, this idea makes Rowling seem like some act of god that's worthless to question. When in reality, unpacking where her work fails and contrasting it to where it succeeds is a lot more biting and direct. It gets right to the core of Rowling's failings as a person.

But in a more general sense, in recent years I've become more acutely aware of this tendency of the internet where once you hate someone, you put everything they do under the most intense scrutiny possible and that's an unhealthy mindset to be in.

I'm literally watching one of my friends obsessively hatestalk Vivziepop right now and it's a little fucking sad.

I'd been moving away from that hyper-scrutiny the last few years, but what really kicked it off for me in particular was a video called "The Consumerist Dystopia of Harry Potter" where the video maker seems at times like they're trying to insist that the entire franchise is a merchandising brainwashing machine because... Harry shops for things and is wealthy.

And like... no? It's common to compare Harry Potter's merchandise to other YA novels that just don't have them because they're too deeply critical of capitalist excess, but those are science fiction books and Harry Potter is fantasy.

It's not inherently pro-capitalist just for using capitalism, any more than literally every fantasy story on the planet is pro-monarchy just because monarchy is the dominant political structure of the entire genre.

Remember this is a book for 7 year olds where Harry endears himself to another child by buying a shitload of candy. It ain't that fucking deep.

I'm reminded of how someone (Shaun) claimed that Black Panther was anti-democracy entirely on the basis that they didn't abolish the Monarchy by the end. Like, no. In order to be anti-democracy, you have to actively BE anti-democracy. Not just exist as something else.

All of this is just bad critique. And bad critique is what you get when you are specifically looking for things to critique. This habit to keep digging and digging and digging is just not healthy. It's related to the way people keep looking for dirt on someone after they're already a proven shithead.

JK Rowling is already a shit human being, we don't need Exhibit 647-B to prove that.

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not-poignant · 2 months

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Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing? with the understanding that no advice is universal of course

28. Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

So I have a ton of stuff in the Pia on Writing tag that goes into a lot of detail but (with the caveat to ignore anything that doesn't work for you):

Learn to love your mistakes, because you must make a lot of them to get good at writing, so if you hold back because you're worried about your writing being bad, your shooting yourself in the foot. Your writing HAS to be bad for it to get better. Or: You need manure/shit (bad writing) to grow a really good garden (good writing). You want a good garden? Start shoveling the shit in, lol.

Clever marketing won't solve not putting the hours in to hone your craft.

In fanfiction, make sure it's fun. That doesn't mean it can't be hard sometimes, that you can't dread editing sometimes or drafting, that you can't have sadder times, but make sure that the overall net is always positive. Otherwise, take a break.

In professional writing, learn how to stop waiting for inspiration to strike, and learn to turn up on that dance floor on your own. Inspiration is a fickle dance partner, it often won't turn up unless you develop the discipline to turn up first.

Sometimes the writing you absolutely slog through that feels stilted and bad is some of your best writing. Just because it feels clunky when you're writing, doesn't mean it reads clunky. Just because it feels smooth when you're writing, doesn't mean it reads smooth. Your emotional state at the time of writing does not determine the quality of writing. Feeling good while you're writing =/= good writing. Likewise feeling bad while writing =/= bad writing.

You do not need a daily habit to be good at writing. Develop one if you want one, but personally I don't have one and I'm super happy that way. Take your weekends, have your leisure time, goddamn it, don't be a terrible boss to yourself.

Writing can be both lonely and exhausting - make some non-douchey writer friends (or artist or creative friends), and make sure you take breaks. Because writing is so cerebral, you'd be surprised how much physical activity can help with recovery, like stretching, gentle walks, workouts, etc.

Eat brain food. Snacking during writing is actually normal. I have nuts on hand for protein boosts, but I'll also eat chocolate or snack on quick energy boosts.

Stay hydrated.

Ignore any writing advice that goes 'you must do this in order to be a writer' or 'you have to do this one thing to be successful.' They're wrong. There is no one-true-path in writing with the exception that you do have to write in order to like...be a writer, imho.

You are going to want to compare yourself to others, but be very aware of who you're comparing yourself to. If you're new, why are you comparing yourself to someone with 10-20 years of experience? If you're disabled and fatigued, why are you comparing yourself to able-bodied writers? Stop competing with people outside of your metaphorical weight class, they're not your competition. I'm not going to tell you not to compare yourself to others, but be very careful of how you compare yourself to others. I've had new writers be like 'I could never do your wordcounts (so I'm not as good of a writer)' and like, no friend, neither could I 10 years ago. This is literally a decade of hard work and practice. Some skills really just come with time. (Also most writers are more successful after writing less words than me so y'know lol).

If you get shitty comments/critiques, remind yourself that if you wouldn't take personal advice from a complete stranger like this (and you wouldn't), then their shitty comments/critiques aren't worth your time either.

On AO3, the delete, block, moderate comments function and mute buttons are all free. USE THEM. Don't bother giving haters airtime on your fics. Elsewhere on the internet, as much as you can, try and ignore review sites. Like seriously.

Learn your writing style. Practice planning, plantsing and pantsing! Practice writing one thing or more than one thing at a time. Practice different genres. You might be surprised at what fits you as a person! Think of it like being a musician, you're not trying to be a band that already exists, you're trying to be your band and you're trying to find your sound.

You're probably very good at noticing your weaknesses, get good at noticing your strengths, and use those to shore up the places where you're still building skills.

Do writing prompts. I cannot stress this enough, but learn how to write settings. Describe the dialogue of a friend. Write a character dossier on a television character. Practice worldbuilding, practice character building.

Fill the well. Read broadly across many genres. Watch many different types of media. Listen to many audiobooks. The best way to not sound derivative of a particular order is to saturate yourself with inspiration from hundreds of different places.

That's probably enough! dklsjfdas

From this meme!

#asks and answers #pia on writing #memey goodness #idk advice is hard honestly #learn about good story structure #write down the things you love and don't love in your favourite novels and fics #do the same for your own works #be compassionate to yourself #don't be an asshole boss to yourself #administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

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sunnydbeam · 1 year

Text

Introducing Skater!Eclipse & Glitch

Both are best friends, gossips and professional skateboarders who spend most of their free time in a corner of their favorite skatepark watching other skateboarders to record them and upload the videos to the internet. Eclipse and Glitch maintain a "tough guy" facade, making them look intimidating and causing people to avoid them most of the time. However, they are not capable of harming anyone, they simply have a bad habit of staring from a distance. Eclipse and Glitch will always keep up with the latest news. If you've missed something, ask them! They also like to dig into the lives of people they find interesting, just out of curiosity.

Both are clumsy and share a single neuron. Neither of them know how to interact properly, so they pretend to ignore you so as not to admit that they are too shy, especially Eclipse.

While Eclipse is the more rational one, Glitch is the one with the good ideas, although his friend always interrupts him before he can come up with them.

For some reason both are always tense and defensive, as if they think you're coming to fight them or something.

ECLIPSE: is a former model of robot caregiver, tasked with caring for the elderly and people with disabilities. Several years ago he was decommissioned and scrapped to make room for the updated versions that would eventually replace him. Eclipse managed to escape the landfill he was thrown into, repairing his dismembered body with scrap metal and discordant parts that surrounded him.

Eclipse feels great rejection for himself and his body because of this. Being discarded, he considers himself unhelpful, unneeded, even calling himself "ugly" or a "piece of junk" regardless of whether anyone else is listening to him, or if they are even going to refute him. However, he has great confidence in his skateboarding skills, the one thing that gives him self-confidence, which makes him proud. Eclipse just wants to prove to himself that he is good at something, that he can be enough.

He is shy and somewhat coarse with words, but he has a kind and sweet heart. His memory tends to fail, so he often forgets names or faces. His battery always seems to be on the verge of dying, which gives him a sleepy appearance (Eclipse claims he is unable to get a replacement for his model), and he tends to shut down at the worst time. Eclipse is passionate about photography and repairing things when he is feeling anxious.

Eclipse has a habit of saying or doing things out of context or without apparent explanation. Also, he will always try to ask for an explanation for everything, becoming somewhat insistent.

Despite not feeling any kind of rancor, opting for a few jokes, Eclipse still feels uncomfortable if a human is near or touches him.

Eclipse can't help but help the elderly with their shopping bags or to cross the street when he's just passing by.

GLITCH: was a robot used to entertain large children's parties just two years ago. He was good with children, but suffered from some flaws that made him somewhat unstable, such as losing his temper or breaking things. He was often picked on by teenagers as he was easy to anger, until one day, in the middle of a party, Glitch was accidentally pushed out of a window after being kicked, throwing him 50 feet in the air and causing serious damage to his body. Noticing that no one was coming to help him, Glitch crawled into an alley and extinguished there. He would later meet Eclipse, the one who would find him and repair him (certainly touched by the scene that reminded him so much of himself) to then quickly become his best friend.

Eclipse showed Glitch the world of skateboarding, which he quickly latched onto. Glitch always felt indebted to him, which made him overprotective and loving. He loves to compliment Eclipse to make him feel less belittled and holds him in very high regard. He calls him "cute" or "adorable" without any shame. Part of his suspicious behavior is due to the fact that many people approach Eclipse to make fun of his appearance, so he will always try to scare people away with tough behavior.

Glitch is cheerful, fun, full of energy and can be somewhat cocky at times, especially if he is trying to impress. He is sweet and likes physical contact much more than he appears to. Glitch is a street artist who will always look for a blank space to graffiti, and a good singer. His dream is to participate in a Broadway musical.

Sun > Moon > Eclipse & Glitch > Y/N > Total Eclipse > Glamrocks

#Skatepark AU #Skater!Eclipse #Skater!Glitch #fnaf eclipse #glitch sun #fnaf sun #sundrop #fnaf moon #moondrop #fnaf #fnaf security breach

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verysanebsdfan · 2 months

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🥁🤯‼️❤️‍🩹🔥🥁💀🇫🇷💯💥🎶🆙😤

Hear me out

Starlight Glimmer!reader x Saiki K

A reader who is kinda like starlight glimmer with sunset shimmer's abilities (I'm in my mlp phase don't judge but I rlly like their characters and abilities) who is kinda bad at first because of something happening with their friends earlier in her childhood and becomes very rude and cold but slowly learns to open up to the idea of new ways to act and get along with people and be nicer

Like of course they're not perfect, they're going to have social anxiety because what if others find out how bad she was in her past, and some old habits will peak through but they're still trying to learn

Their way with dealing with problems can be a little...extreme, like breaking open a vending machine when it malfunctioned after they paid to get someone a drink or things along that line

(forgive the long request I just woke up)

They also usually act before they think often

Starlight Glimmer!reader x Saiki K

Hello, thank you so much for requesting<3 I am gonna be completely honest i have not watched mlp, so I relied on your description and the internet but i tried. I haven't found much about Sunset Shimmer's abilities tho, well I did but didn't find anything much specific. I mostly mentioned some fire powers cuz from what i found...well nothing good into the story. I read that apparently Sunset can conjure powerful fireballs, but i made it fire in general, and it is also referred to as either psychic or supernatural powers. I hope it is to your liking. Also I wasn't sure but I made it a female reader since ykyk... Word Count: 1.2k

It was a peaceful afternoon when a certain pink haired psychic got rid of the nuisances, uhm, friends and was on his way home. He was in a hurry since his mother asked him to go buy some ingredients for dinner, and there was still a show he wanted to watch today.

As he entered the store, he felt a sudden uneasiness. Something was gonna happen, he knew it. As he collected all the items his mother requested to buy, he walked in the direction of the aisle with coffee jelly. He saw a girl picking up a coffee jelly triple pack, but he quickly hid when he realized that the girl has his schools uniform. The last thing he wants is to have his classmate, whom he recognized after taking a closer look, start a conversation with him. Unbeknownst to him, the girl already knew. She carefully eyed the direction where he left to, quite glad that nobody is gonna ruin her peaceful day.

As she was nearing the next aisle, a certain someone put a hand on her shoulder. She tensed up and turned around to see who was disturbing her personal space. The girl got really startled when she saw a tall guy with a butt chin. She remembered him, some time ago, she was assigned to do a project with him. They were supposed to meet up in a library but he didn't show up, and had a reason, apparently he thought the library was other way and got locked in the school gym. Either way, she knew that he was a real dumb human, so she just patiently waited for him to say something. "Hey!" He shouted, jeez, calm down. "I know you! We did that project together!!" He exclaims loudly. "Yeah, no. You didn't show up, I did the project alone...but yes. Now if you'll excuse me, i have more important things to do than talking with gorillas." The girl announced and turned to leave "Wait!" Nendou shouts again "Do you wanna get ramen with me, pal, and chibi? Huh- where is my pal-" He suddenly realizes "No i won't get rame-" Nendo suddenly grabs the girls arm "Let's go find my Pal!" He insisted and pulled the two high school students behind him.

And that is how you got to where you are now. Seated between Kaidou and Saiki, across from Nendo, really strange individuals, really loud and obnoxious, except Saiki, that is. The Ramen shop didn't look anyhow exquisite...it actually looked quite, dangerous? The food will probably be poisoned or something. When the owner gave them their bowls, everyone looked disgusted (The one episode when Teruhashi tagged with them kinda disgusted) The girl stood up from her seat and looked at the humanoid creature, called 'ramen shop owner' and stared at him. "You call this food?! Impossible!" She yells while trying to hold herself from throwing the bowl on the ground. "You have a problem with that?!" The store owner spat out. "The heck i do! The noodles are expired, vegetable is actually not a vegetable, i have a piece of plastic in it, the broth smells like piss and sweat! If it's okay in your opinion, eat it! I'll gladly pay if you eat the whole bowl!" She yells at him, making the people outside, on the street, wonder what is happening there. "You won't, exactly! Now return our money. Hurry" She yelled the last line before the owner had to run to the kitchen because something was burning. Definitely not your doing.

Saiki knew. He knew that was not natural, the fire. It got extinguished, no one got hurt, but it was bugging him, and he wanted to know just who are you? He got his powers to help him out with getting you to hang out with his....whole friend group....or nuisances. And you slowly started opening up. One this one fateful Saturday night when the group was hanging out at a playground, it was already dark. Kind of a miracle that Kaidou's mom let him go so easily, we thank you so much Saiki on Kaidou's behalf.

"How about we play truth or dare?" Yumehara suggested. Everyone agreed, even you and Saiki, surprisingly, but nobody questioned it. Time passed and questions and dares flew around too. "L/N, truth or dare?" Kuboyasu asked the girl, who has been drawing into the dirt. "Truth" She mumbled tiredly "Have you ever broken a law? And if yes, how?" Who in their mind would ask that?

Yes....Kuboyasu..."Technically yes..." She sighs. "I broke open a vending machine because It broke after I paid, so I got what I paid for, myself." She said. "and also burned down a house" The girl whispered a sentence that only the lovely pink haired psychic heard. It startled him. Why did she do that? "Why would you open it up tho? You can't do that! That's destruction of property! A crime!" The perfect bluenette whisper-yelled. "Teruhashi-san...It isn't a crime as long as you're not caught....and also, why should you care why i did it...maybe because i won't waste my money, maybe because i was pissed? Probably. Not everyone is as perfect as you, not everyone is as nice as you, and I was not in a good mental state. Get over yourself..." Wait- the girl realized her mistake as she looked at the teary eyed bluenette. "I- uh- Teruhashi-san...I am sorry uh! uhm....I didn't mean it like that I just-I'll....I'll go buy you something just please don't cry"

Seriously...the vending machine broke. She turned around but bumped into a certain pink haired highschooler. "Why did you burn down a house?" The pink haired boy asked, very bluntly, realizing his mistake, not correcting it though. "My powe-" the girl realizes and quickly coughs. "My uhh...power in the house went down, and I, the little naive child, thought I could do everything, so I tried to fix it, cut wires and boom...." She says too optimistically. "Stop lying" The pink haired highschooler commanded. "Not here...But we cannot leave the group for too long either..." She thinks out loud. "They actually already went home." Saiki exclaims. "Guys are walking Teruhashi and then Yumehara...I'll walk you...while you talk...or we can talk at one of our places." He says while motioning for her to follow.

You two walk into your house, and you light up the lights. "Sit down, I'll get some coffee jelly, I noticed you staring at it...the day we met." 'Are you a goddess?' Saiki thinks. "So....I suppose you wanna know why? Hm...okay so basically I have powers, it went out of control....And i burned down my friends house....he almost died....that's why I don't really talk about it." You quickly summarized. "I really hate supernatural powers...or psychic powers...because I still feel guilty, I tried to stop it, but they don't even know it was me, not even my parents. You are the only one who knows." She says as she takes a spoon full of coffee jelly. "But I only told you because you have powers too

(○｀ 3′○)"

Anyway! I tried but I do not like how it turned out but

Stay safe y'all! BYE

#saiki #saiki kusuo no psi nan #saiki k x reader #shun kaidou #the disastrous life of saiki k #yumehara chiyo #kusuo saiki #aren kuboyasu

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