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updatingranboo · 10 months

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ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

#this is how i found out tumblr has a character limit per block #well. have fun reading #i sure did #ranboo #ranboo update #twitter update #ranboosaysstuff tweet

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nikox400x · 3 months

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Kung Fu Panda 4-All the budget went to the animation (spoilers)

Hey all, its me, the guy who everyday make a tour around this site but almost never talk. How are ya?

Two days ago something arrived to the cinema's screens, something that me and everyone were waiting for since 2018, the fourth film and the begginig of the new kung fu panda triology.

You know? When I sat on that theather seat with my friends to see what Dreamworks had prepared for us, I told myself; "Maybe that post I made a while ago throwing shit at what seemed like Kfp 4 was going to be was a bit hard, I hope I can come out regretting what I said that time"

And as soon as the credits ended, it was clear to me, I dont regret a shit. Maybe it was a little exaggerated, compared to what a megamind fan would think about the terrible sequel they made, but still: the film is crappy and boring most of the time. But why?

I'm going to explain some points.

1- Po? Is that you?

I don't know you guys, but i don't think the panda we knew in the end of the third film is the same as this one. Seriously, he share more comparisons with the Po from the legend of awessonless than the one from the films, maybe its a personal thing but it feels that way. At least in the beggining of the film feel like that.

And I don't know what he was thinking about when he decided to follow a thief he doesn't know at all and who tried to steal in his own palace, and that suspiciously know who is the chameleon, whose were her plans, her past, where she lived, where exacly they had to pass through avoiding all the guard inside her home, why the others thiefs of the city hate her so much... With Po's experience with criminals this is like a chef throwing water on a pan with boiling oil, it's obvious what is going to happen.

2- Zheng- Female Nick Wilde but without charisma or half of his intelligence.

I knew it from the first moment I saw Zheng's desing, the people who know me can corroborate that; her facial expressions, her tone while she talk, her animal race, her position as thief, her final when she is part of the justice same as the protagonist... it's clearer than water I think.

Everyone could say this is forgivable if she's smart, but surprise, she's not. This character is just an absurd try of this company for """"conect with infant audience""""(I don't know in what sense, I supose for the cute design, idk). But the point is, the supposed objective of the hollywood companies is give the new generetions better things than we got at their age, but what I see is laziness for write a decent scrip only for take an advantage of a known IP and make easy money. Even the children have quality standars, this is not the dragon warrior and of course this is not kung fu panda.

And talking about the dragon warrior, having our deep and lovely Tigress with her magnific development or Tai Lung back from the spirit realm... why in the hell this character exists?! Oh yeah, for being trending topic in twitter for three days. Yay...

3- The furious five and Shifu, for us : our pretty boys, and for Dreamworks: living jokes.

What made Kung Fu Panda what it is, is not the fucking panda, it's them. They're the inspiration for Po, their allies, the royale representation of kung fu and the ones which everything started with.

Po's a comic relief, and his mission is show his development in part using his humor, but the humor in this film barely works because of the lazy script. Something that even the talented Jack Black himself can't fix, beacuse his only role there is dublin his character, unlike the rest of the residents of the Jade Palace except Dustin Hoffman.

Seth Rogen (Mantis) himself even said that he wasn't even contact by Dreamworks in the first place, only for make a scream in the credits, that's sad beacause he really wanted to see Mantis on the screen. And I know and I understand that the five are expensive, but cmon, they could just simply change the voice actors and offset it with a good script but that's not the case of course. Their role in the film is being a counter for Po's constant jokes, for not to saturate the spectator with jokes, now that's not in there anymore, thank you Dreamworks.

4-The chameleoooohhn and her "motivation".

I can't say much, basically because out of her design she's nonsense. She says that because of her size, she was reyected for being a kung fu warrior.

Yeah of course but only one little thing, what about Shifu? Viper, a warrior without tips? Mantis, literally a dawn insect? Master Oogway, a TURTLE? The masters goose? C'mon even there's a fucking master chicken! Don't talk shit chameleon!

Her importance for the plot? Its almost a lie, the others villains had links to important characters; Tai Lung (with his link to Shifu's past), Shen (with his link to Po's past) or Kai (with his link to Oogway's past), all of them related to important characters. And her? To zheng's past and present I guess? But again, anyone know this character. She's like a villain from a Disney show, you know the type of villain who say a lot of things but at the end, she don't support nothing to the lore.

And her personality is like a mix of all the previous villains, and this sounds good right? HAHAH nope. Do you remember when as a child you mixed all the plasticines of all the colors to create the final color and you ended up with a color similar to poop? well that's exacly how her personality feels like.

5- Po's dads; the only reason they're there is because they ran out of characters to make the film.

The tittle itself tell everything, they don't do anything for the script in all the film, and their objective could be done since the start.

The script of the film except for the final looks like a draft which they didn't know how to complete, everyone who watch it can see it perfecly. The animation, the music and the backgrounds are the only things notable here.

6- Tai Lung and the cheapness nostalgia.

Fan service is not necesarry bad, above all if is used in a good way, they sold us Tai Lung as a miracle but his importance for the plot feels just like a Stan Lee cameo, I like Tai Lung I can say that. But this is too weak, Shen and Kai are only characters in the background who don't do nothing except being defeated or make facial expressions (I don't even joke that Shen would show respect to Po considering what we saw in the second movie, and Kai wasn't supposed to be destroyed as a spirit, what the hell is he doing here again? *sign* I'll to stop trying to make sense of this).

By the way, anyone else think that the dragon warrior role is understimated? I mean Shifu obligated Po to transfers the role to another one just because yes, i mean he only has been the dragon warrior for less than 5 years and now they want to replace him with a random. Everything just for at the end, he choosed a thief with at least 30 crimes registred and who was a traitor during the 75% of the movie.

7- The """""""""humor"""""""", except they forgot the parts where I must to laugh.

Seeing nonsense hits only beacuse yes stopped of being funny a long time ago, and no, I don't want to talk about the bunnies of the portrait because I would get sick. I had to go to the cinema drunk to endure the filler that the movie had, no joke, it was the only way to laugh at those jokes.

So I think about applying the same method as in any movie with bad jokes, ignoring the jokes. I tried to do the same thing but with the pace that the film managed, such a thing was impossible, the pace of the movie seems to be made for Tiktoker children with attention deficit. From the chaos in the quarry until Po takes the bitc... uhg fox out of prison, only 10 fucking minutes pass, all of that for what? So that you feel like the baseless information and the nonsensical plot that they tell us is of any use? they could simply make a non-canonical short and that's it, but no, yes or they were going to tell us a story written by rotten old men who spend the entire day watching Tik Tok. It's not going to be that the child who sees this doesn't get bored, we know that much today's children don't have many neurons as they say, but even to make movies for them you have to have a certain talent.

In some point at the beguining Po make a joke about the ausence of the furious five saying that at least he had them in cardboard posters, and this would be a good joke. Only if the stupid film could be prove that the franquise can do something memorable without the furious five, but again, that's not the case.

Don't have any respect for this movie, look what it had with you. I understand that it is enjoyable because of the animation but it does not go beyond that line, it destroys important things about the canon and spoils its teaching about the need for change by treating it in a terrible way.

Coclusion: KFP 4 is just another Po's adventure as Shifu says, it won't tell nothing to you or make you feel different, it's a shame but after Megamind 2 I imagined something like this. It's a dark era for film, expecially the animated one so like Scar said; Be prepare, there're worse things waiting for us.

Do you want something with real quality? You don't even need kung fu panda 1,2 or 3, for make it easy to this film let's take this marvelous example; kung fu panda: secrets of the scroll (2016). You'll say; "An animated short, this is not like-" Shhh Just watch it, you won't regret it.

If you think I'm wrong in something, just rewatch the film. And if still you aren't agreed with me, well, I respect you and I'm happy you like it. I wish I could love it as you do, but that doesn't mean that the movie isn't bad, because if you watch it with your brain on or remembering the previous movies it's terrible.

. Me? I've to write a story, I love you all. Except you, Dreamworks, I'm mad with you, expecially when you do this at the same day as Akira Toriyama's death :(

#kung fu panda #secrets of the scrolls #kung fu panda 4 #kung fu panda 2 #tigress #furious five #akira toriyama #dreamworks #po ping #lord shen #tai lung #general kai #kung fu panda 3 #the lion king

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pinazee · 1 month

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Weekend warriors is one of my fave episodes for a multitude of reasons

The way Shawn flirts with Sally Reynolds at the briefing was fantastic. Shes such a memorable one off character and she doesn’t really do much. I credit that to Clair Coffee and her dazzling smile.

One of the best moments of Shawn showing just how amazing his memory is, and the little montage was wonderfully set up. But Gus really shouldn’t be surprised by now. Out of everyone (except maybe his dad) he should be the least amazed by his gifts.

It has my favorite most stupidest joke i still laugh at to this day actually ive been promoted. Its Captain Crunch now.

I have a deep appreciation of this show for never shying away from the fact that Gus is black. It seems like a lot of 00’s shows simply avoided the topic altogether (if they even had a black main). Starting from the pilot when gus placed his hands on the dash when the cop pulled them over. It goes to show how important it is to collaborate with your actors, particularly if your writing room demographics don’t correlate with your acting talent.

The fuck are you talking about henry. It took him 4 months after he was born to smile at you and thats when you acknowledge him??? I mean, i think they both know thats crap, but still lol

Solid Juliet moment. I love that they showed she was scared, but was brave enough to continue. Too many shows try to do feminism by making their female characters not feel fear for some reason? Or like, they’re kind of crazy and seek it out. Idk. Its nice that shes allowed to be afraid and vulnerable. It makes her feel like a real person.

THIS!

That end scene is the saddest fucking thing ive ever seen, and might be the most heartbreaking little shawn moment in the series. Im going to word for word this because i need ppl to share in my awwws

Shawn: Gus, when we grow up, think ill ever be as cool as you?

Gus: You’re better at kickball

Shawn: Not what I asked

Gus: We talking about your dad again?

Shawn: mm-hmm

Gus: Come on dude, the guy respects you

Shawn: Not like he does you

Gus: I’m not his son. I mean, he might like me okay, but he loves you

Shawn: Did he say that?

Gus: No.

Shawn: Well then how can you be sure?

Gus: You mean he’s never said it?

Shawn: Come on Gus, we’re guys.

SO MUCH TO UNPACK HERE but i’m going to do that in my henry analysis ep. Theres just too much to say.

#im really trying not to let these get too long #but i love this ep so it was a special occasion #im just waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk about henry #but im definitely keeping tabs on all the fucked up shit hes doing or teaching him haha #psych #psych rewatch #shawn spencer #james roday rodriguez #james roday #burton guster #dulé hill #dule hill #shawn and gus #juliet o'hara #maggie lawson #psych usa #psych tv

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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So I watched Glass Onion. And I have some very fun obversations turned info dumping turned (positive) ranting to do about the brilliance of this movie. Warning for SPOILERS

• Benoit Blancs husband (Phillip I belived) had flour/dough on his face when he opened the door, insinuating he's a messy baker. Just an extra detail I noticed that really shows the effort put into the movie both by actors and writers

• The very real incorporation of covid into the movies universe. That was an interesting thing for me. Adds for some funny gags (like the among us scene, not getting over that ever actually) and some real insight to the characters shitty personalities (Birdies mesh mask, and the fact that Miles was probably pretending to have a vaccine just so he could get them to take off their masks since that man never created anything on his own)

• This is probably my own mind spinning things up, but the name Miles for a billionaire who got everything through stealing ideas? And taking the credit? By "walking a mile in their shoes" but not really? Or he could just be an asshole with the most generic white guy name ever idk

• You could clearly tell there was a class thing going on. Birdie only stopped flirting with Blanc when he mentioned being a buyer of her product. Not as if to say, how I've seen other people point out, only gay men wear sweatpants so she suddenly decided she couldn't flirt with him oops my bad. Moreso, it was Blanc lying (or telling the truth, who knows maybe he does buy them) about wearing her brand simply so he can divide the line between them socially. As if to say, "I know you'll stop touching me if I clarify I'm not anywhere near your status. I am your target market. Something you don't give a second thought about." Between that and how Peg clearly didn't fit despute having hung around that group for 10 years as Birdies assitant, a lot of this movies positive and negative energy depended on who was interacting with who and if they were "good enough" for the others gaze

• I think a lot of people caught the symbolizm between all of the famous paintings being incorporated into the movie (Helen's smile at the end reminiscent of the Mona Lisa, Miles scream at the painting being destroyed a life like recreation of the painting Scream, everyone sitting at dinner like The Last Supper in multiple shots) but I thought it was worth mentioning again for the sheer brilliance

• Miles' tantrum he throws while calling Helen a child, despite her having been probably one of the most adult people in the entire movie. Mind you Miles was the same person who minutes ago was shaking in rage at his previous car—the very same car he had rode in to kill Andi in—smashing through his glass ceiling

• Plus, a rich guy with an all glass house barefoot? He truly belived nothing could ever go wrong in his perfect world; his perfect mic-mansion house. That nothing would be broken or shattered for him to potentially step on later. And I mean that both metaphorically and litteraly

#overall very very good movie #highly recommend for the autism community #come! i have new blorbos for us all!#glass onion #glass onion: a knives out mystery #glass onion spoilers #spoilers #movies #info dump #shitpost #shitposting

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cowgurrrl · 7 months

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I’m sorry. I am simply obsessed with rockstar!joel with crackhead twins. There is something about this hot dude in his 50s with a bad back having to raise two wild gremlins who like to gnaw on the table leg!? You know what I mean. Could I please request a cute fic where Joel is just super exhausted and feels like he is maybe not up tot he task, I don’t know maybe the girls are like in their chaos 2 year old stage. After a long day of them not being interested in him at all and him just feeling super insecure he resorts to strumming my girl on his guitar and they are just mesmerized by their dad?! Idk like the music is the moment the turn into sweet little mushy angels again? Sorry that was super long, anyway love yah.

Thank you for the request 🥺🥺 ily2 and I love that a general consensus has been reached that the twins are batshit crazy as toddlers and Sam is just a Perfect Baby Angel

My Girls

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: Joel braves the first of many Sophia and Violet days [1.6k]

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and the foster care system, Joel being a DILF, that’s it

It's debated on what's harder: going from no kids to one kid or one kid to two kids. You honestly don't have a lot of skin in the game when it comes to the question because Sarah and Ellie were teenagers when you met Joel. Even then, Sarah was fourteen when Ellie came into their lives and sixteen by the time the adoption paperwork was approved. You thought going from two to three with the birth of Sam would be hard, and it was, but Sam was an amazing baby. He always wanted to cuddle, followed the rules almost to a fault, and rarely threw tantrums. He's the kid that made you think, "Oh, yeah. We could totally do this again." Sophia and Violet, however, have given you a run for your money from the moment you found out you were having twins, and two years later, they haven't stopped.

True to form, once the girls turn two, you go back to work. Joel is accommodating because, of course, he is. He realizes you put your career on pause for almost two and a half years (if you count the mandated bed rest your doctor put you on at 32 weeks) and is more than happy to let you go and do your thing. He'd been a single dad with no help to a kid before. What's thirty years and a couple extra littles running around? As it turns out, a lot.

The day you return to set, this time as a director instead of an actor, the girls spend the first hour without you crying. Sam, being six and used to his parents' routine, is seemingly unfazed and continues watching Bluey and munching on his breakfast. Sophia and Violet bang on the door, scream and refuse to let Joel even talk to them, let alone pick them up to comfort them. They fight him the entire way to the car to get Sammy to school on time and then cry even harder because "Bammy's going to school." Joel can normally soothe his girls without any issue, but they didn't sleep well the night before and have been wound up all morning.

When he got home with them, they demanded a snack, but they had to be different because twins. Then, Sophia collapsed in a heap on the floor because Joel peeled her banana for her instead of letting her do it (rookie mistake). The toddler dramatics sent Daisy into action to remedy the situation, which made Violet scream in protest because she suddenly decided she hates when Daisy licks her or anybody for that matter. Poor Daisy didn't know what to do besides scamper off to her bed and watch Joel struggle with big, sad eyes. Then came the drama of what game to play: Princess Tea Party or Princess Dinosaurs, which caused another explosion of unregulated emotions. By the time noon rolls around, he's staring at his phone as he tries to decide whether or not to call you.

If there's one thing Joel Miller hates more than admitting defeat, it's seeing his kids upset. Everything he tries to do only upsets the girls more and makes him question his parenting skills. How the fuck did you do this for two years? Sure, the kids had their days, but the only time you ever sent him an SOS at work was when Violet had an asthma attack and ended up in the emergency room. Even then, you got all three kids in the car and to the hospital without help. You're a fucking force when it comes to taking care of the kids, and right now, he feels like the worst dad on the planet. After a quick cry in the pantry, while the girls watched Encanto for the umpteenth time and ate lunch, he takes a deep breath and decides he can handle a few more hours.

With a little more fuss and frustration, he gets Daisy on a leash and the girls in a stroller and walks them down to the neighborhood playground. The change of scenery and the sunshine put the girls in a much better mood. For a blissful hour, the girls run around and play and giggle without a care in the world. Joel does everything from pushing them on the swings to going down the slide with them to letting them play with Daisy off-leash. They have fun until the dreaded hour of nap time creeps up on them.

Thankfully, the girls (Daisy included) are tired from their adventures on the playground and start the journey home reluctantly. It's getting them to actually go to sleep that's the issue. Every time he tries to leave their room, one of them calls out the saddest "Daddy" he's ever heard in his entire life, and he turns right back around. And it would be fine if his presence wasn't enough to keep the girls awake. He knows that if the girls don't nap, it will only make the day longer and worse for everyone. He sits on the floor between their two beds and tucks a curl behind Violet's ear.

"C'mon Vi Pie, you guys gotta close your eyes and nap," he says quietly. "What can I do to get you to sleep?"

"Call Mommy?" Violet suggests, and he tsks.

"Honey, you know Mommy's working, but she loves you, and she's gonna be home real soon, okay?" As he speaks, he can see the tears welling in Violet's big brown eyes and turns to see the same tears in Sophia's identical ones. "No. No, please don't cry. Please. You're gonna break my heart." He begs. "What can I do to get you to stop cryin', huh? Y'know, when you two were babies, I used to just hold the both of you and sway and sing to ya and…" he trails off as his eyes land on Ellie's old guitar resting against the wall of the girls' room. She gave it to them when she got her new one and told them they could use it to practice. They don't really do much more than pull at the strings and turn the tuning knobs, but they'll learn.

He pulls himself up, his knees cracking as he does, and walks over to where the guitar sits. After some tuning and quiet adjustments, he sits on the edge of Sophia's bed and smiles at the two little girls staring at him with sleepy eyes. "Now, I haven't played this one in a while, so you be nice to your old man, but I used to play this for Sarah all the time when she was y'all's age." He says as his fingers find the chords. The girls are enraptured as Joel plays a quiet rendition of My Girl by The Temptations. He changes the lyrics to "My girls/talkin' bout my girls," and they smile as his southern drawl fills the room with warmth and serenity.

He notices their eyes getting heavier and their blinks getting a little longer each time, so he continues. "I don't need no money/ fortune or fame/ I got all the riches baby/ one man can claim/ well I guess you'd say/'What can make me feel this way?'/ my girls." He sings softly, his own eyes getting heavy with emotion as he thinks a little too hard about the lyrics. It doesn't help that the girls look just like you when they fall asleep. Joel has to cut himself off with a guitar riff to keep his voice from cracking and disrupting the girls.

He plays another song or two just to make sure they're fully asleep before he carefully puts the guitar down and tucks his girls in. "Love you, Soph a Loaf," he whispers as he kisses Sophia's head. He repeats his actions at the other bed with a gentle, "Love you, Vi Pie," before tiptoeing out of the room. On the other side of the scribbled-on door sits Daisy with a smile on her face as she looks up at Joel. He smiles back and pets her head.

"My girls." He sings to her, too, making her lean into his touch lovingly and stick close to him even when he goes back downstairs to let the girls rest.

"Did you write a new song?" You ask that weekend when all the kids are down for the night, and Joel gives you a confused look.

"Not that I know of. Why?" He asks, and you shrug.

"The girls asked if they could listen to 'Daddy's new song.'” You say. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"D'you remember the song I used to sing when you were pregnant with the girls?"

"Of course I do. It was the only way they'd settle down…" You extend your vowels as the connection sparks in your brain.

"It was the only way I could get 'em to nap earlier this week. Played it on Ellie's guitar and everythin'." He says simply, and you take a deep breath as you stare at him. He's wearing a shirt Ellie helped design to raise money for kids in foster care, but it's stained with nail polish from when the girls decided he needed a manicure before he could play baseball with Sam in the backyard. He took it all in stride and didn't flinch at any of the insane requests your kids threw at him. You sigh and peel your eyes away from him.

"It's really not fair how good of a dad you are," you sigh. "It's annoyingly hot." He smiles and kisses your cheek smugly.

"Sorry."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha

#one for the money two for the show #rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader #rockstar!joel miller #rockstar!joel #dad!joel miller #tlou au #the last of us au #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader

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very-straight-blog · 15 days

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Hi, love your blog.

I know you probably talked about this, but due to the new trailer and all the theories about s2, I've recently rewatched s1 and my God, I can't stand Viserys. Like, the first time my reaction was mostly "the actor is pretty good", "poor man", "well, he is in the wrong here but he suffers so much so maybe we should go easy on him", etc. but on every rewatch you just can't fail to see how terrible this character actually is . The annoying thing is that it's obvious that the writers went for the "a good man but a bad King" interpretation of him and they succeeded with a big part of the fandom (mostly TB). The problem is, however, that I can't see where is "a good man" part. Maybe for the Westerosi standards which are quite low, but even then, the mistakes he consciously made and did nothing to fix outshadow everything good he might have had in his defense. He basically left his own children to tore each other apart and still was presented to us as a noble suffering king who just wanted everyone to get along. Like, seriously? The way he "handled" the Driftmark incident and how he was ready to leave his deathbed just act in favour of his "only child" (the scene was beautiful though) made me so angry. Idk, to be so willingly obtuse and cause directly and indirectly such a harm to your own family can only do a man who is stupid or simply not so good and kind. And I don't think Viserys was stupid at all.

Sorry for the rant :)

Hi! Thank you! And - oh, I hate Viserys.

Like, I don't like Rhaenyra, I don't like Daemon - to be honest, I don't like anyone from TB, but Viserys is solely to blame for this whole nightmare - so he's also to blame for what happened to my favorite characters and that's where I start having problems with him.

Viserys was weak. He drowned in self-pity, guilt, and let what happened happen. He tried to be a good man - and ended up being a bad king who failed the Seven Kingdoms. He wanted to be a good father - but for some reason only for Rhaenyra, and "being a good father" for him meant not raising her properly, but indulging her.

Making Rhaenyra his heir, he married a second time and had three more sons, thus personally preparing the ideal situation for the future civil war. At the same time, he could have prevented it. He could have married Aegon and Rhaenyra, but he didn't do this - again, because he was weak and didn't want to put his daughter in an uncomfortable situation. All the time since Aegon was born, he simply ignored all problems and conflicts. His bias towards Rhaenyra, his political illiteracy and weak character led to the Dance of the Dragons and for this I deeply despise him.

#ask #anti viserys targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green #opinion

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blockgamepirate · 3 months

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Here are some suggestions I have for QSMP, that nobody asked for and that nobody involved with the server is going to actually see anyway (but I can't stop thinking about this so I have to write something down)

This is me trying to be constructive instead of just critical, because I do love this server and I want it to be sustainable

I guess this is vaguely addressed to either Quackity and/or to whoever is leading the team, idk, like I said they aren't gonna read a random tumblr post so who cares

And yes, obviously I'm sure some of the things in this post are already being improved on, I just think it's still worth listing them

1: Better communication all around

Especially within the admin team obviously, including the actors and builders and everyone, but also between the admin team and the streamers! And between the admin team and the audience as well!

I promise more communication almost always helps things work out more smoothly than keeping people out of the loop or not talking to each other, or worse; actively banning people from talking to each other

This includes being more open and reconsidering which things actually need to be kept secret and from whom, because if people don't know what to expect, they're not going to know how to prepare either! And they also won't be able to let you know about potential problems ahead of time!

The streamers and the actors and other team members as well should at the very least know about stuff that's going to affect their schedule and to have some idea of the kinds of things they're gonna be expected to do. If you just suddenly throw stuff at them and expect them to be immediately ready to cooperate or play along, that's just gonna cause frustration and burnout

I would also worry less about spoilers than about backlash when people expect one thing and get something completely different; you can in fact give a bit more hints so people don't get the wrong idea and end up disappointed

(And on the other hand if you have secrets that you can't talk about because they would lead to a big controversy if they were revealed uh.... maybe don't do the thing? Maybe simply don't do the controversial thing that you can't let people know about, consider it. If you feel like something you're doing would make people mad if they knew, that thing might in fact be a problem)

2: Show your respect for everyone involved in the project

Respect people's time, respect their ability to cooperate (AS LONG AS YOU TELL THEM WHAT'S GOING ON), listen to their ideas and concerns, etc. This is honestly also part of communicating better but it's an important part

Respecting and also demonstrating your respect for your team is so crucial as a leader, and it genuinely goes a long way even when you have very little else to give them

In fact I think often people would even appreciate respect more than they would appreciate money (although it has to be genuine respect, not just empty words; hence why I say you need to demonstrate your respect with your actions)

3: Have a more collaborative mindset

Think of all the members of the team and the streamers as partners rather than as employees or as customers; this is a collaborative creative project, not a business

As much as this started out as one man's passion project, there's no way to do something this ambitious other than as a team effort, including the actors, including the streamers, so it's just much healthier for everyone to think of it as such

Also it's just better for the stated goals of the server as well, because it's all about bringing people together and what better way to bring everyone together than to make them feel like they're part of a team?

4: That said, you don't actually need to drop all the admin driven lore, that's not what I'm saying orz

Just because I want the streamers to be more involved doesn't mean I think they should also be planning all the lore, that's just not necessary

pls do get a proper gamemaster on the team, though, someone who has experience running a LARP type of thing or at least a TTRPG campaign. That would help so much, and I bet you could ask Cellbit or Bagi or Charlie if they could recommend anyone

Honestly I could probably make a whole post just about how to run the admin driven lore better, but getting yourself an experienced gamemaster would be so much better than any specific advice I could give

5: If you're gonna have volunteers, you need to treat them like volunteers, not like employees

You have to respect the fact that volunteers are not subordinates, they're here to help you, not to be ordered around, banned from talking to people, judged for their availability, or made to sign weird NDAs

They're offering their labour for free because they care about the project or because they enjoy what they do, and they deserve to be appreciated for it, not policed and bossed around (not that you should treat actual employees with that kind of hostility either tbh)

Having volunteers is not necessarily the problem (at least as long as you're not using them to make a profit), it's treating volunteers as unpaid employees, because then you pretty much do just have unpaid employees instead of volunteers

Okay, finally the big one:

6: Consider running QSMP as a cooperative

I know this is Quackity's baby and a Quackity Studios' project, but the thing is, I don't think this model is sustainable

I mean, we already know it isn't sustainable, that's why we're in this mess

As far as I can tell, Quackity Studios is not making any profit from the server, there's no way the revenue from the admin streams and the QSMP Info channel would be enough to cover all the costs if people were paid decently (in fact I don't think it's even enough to cover the costs without paying everyone decently)

This sort of arrangement, with one party running the whole thing out of pocket, makes sense if it's either a very low maintenance server which doesn't cost much and doesn't require much work to keep running, or a very short-term one, more like an event type of thing

QSMP is neither of those, QSMP is both very high maintenance and has been running for almost a full year

I think there's absolutely value in having an ambitious long term project like this, it's very cool, it's very hype, but this is not a good way to run it

And it's especially bizarre considering that people do make money out of it, but the people making money are the streamers

So I would suggest taking some tips from the Hermitcraft SMP server which is run as a collective. Obviously Hermitcraft is much lower maintenance but their model is also much more robust, because there isn't just one person who has to take responsibility for everything, or pay for everything

It would also encourage the spirit of international cooperation to have the streamers literally be part of the server, not just as guests but as partners, so they could have a say in how the server is run and be more invested in the project

(At least those streamers who want to be involved, of course I realise some of them might choose not to)

This would require regular meetings, but I think that's also a good thing, and an opportunity to also talk things through off-camera whenever any issues come up (better communication again!)

AND it would mean that the streamers should actually contribute to the server costs and paying the admins and other behind the scenes people. Probably based on their stream revenue from QSMP streams because obviously some of these streamers make more money than others (I would suggest a progressive membership fee (like progressive taxation style) to make sure that it's not more taxing for the smaller streamers than the bigger ones, but obviously it should all be agreed on between the members)

And IMO the admins, including the actors, the builders, the devs, the translators, etc. should also be considered partners, but since they don't make money directly, the way the streamers do, they should be the ones who are getting compensated for their contributions so they're better able to commit to the project, by which I mean yes you should pay them, but not as employees but as creative partners

Of course this is just one idea, I'm not saying it's necessarily the only good model by any means, it's just a suggestion, all of these are just suggestions

#qsmp #qsmp discourse #sorry for the long post

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femme-enby · 11 days

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Do not attack me, but I have a fanfic update-

So, after waking up after a shift & having another one tonight, I realized a few things…

1) I really miss my seasonal haunt job

2) I really miss spooky season

3) since I’ve never before in my life written a fanfic, or any type of writing that included conversation aside from quotes in essays, I might be better off writing possibly the most self-indulgent BS ever as practice (NOT instead of!!!)

Plus it would give any feral readers some advice, as much like myself, some of y’all are probably decent at analyzing other’s writing. Even if you’re not tho or don’t think you are, when I finally (probably within the week) start posting chapters, I welcome all advice! Just… please, remember I’ve NEVER done this before, so it’s probably gonna be a little bit all over the place and kinda rough.

Sooo…

I’ve kinda already started…?

Summary- you want a seasonal job, (subject to change, considering Fazbear DID try to make a whole haunt attraction with no indication that THAT was seasonal… or maybe I will simply ignore the fact that time is a thing that passes. Who knows.) so after moving you apply at the local haunt. Shenanigans, shitty customers, some animatronics are there, notably two jesters. What could go wrong? (Probably not much, this is for me to indulge & my indulgences are very relaxed)

Similar to the last offering- we will be wooing the jesters, some friends to lovers perchance (we completely ignore the general advice to never date a fellow haunt actor, which exists bc at heart even if not in reality almost all haunt actors are theater kids and that leads to drama) aaaand idk.

I just wanna be a haunt actor rn instead of my typical job, and I DESPERATELY need practice before I dive into a more proper, structured fanfic.

This is gonna be cringe. It’s gonna be goofy. It’s gonna be wordy bc I need practice on… NOT, being INCREDIBLY over explanatory. It’s not that I think my readers are dumb, it’s that I got that tism in me and I over analyze and over explain EVERYTHING.

But!!! If you’ve ever been curious about how being a haunt actor works, what it’s like, etc. then you’ll know how it works (at least from my experience) intimately well.

That being said…

I’ll be doing some research on other haunts for more location ideas, bc while Sun & Moon are pretty easy (EVERYWHERE has clowns. Can’t have a haunt without clowns) the others might give me some trouble… but I also REALLY want to include them, not just bc they’re awesome but also bc it would be good practice for my other fanfic, so I can get a general idea on how I want to write them…

I know my haunt had a more “country” attraction, and Monty’s backstory seemed to portray him as more of a rural gator… but idk. Maybe the difference from his attraction vs his true/current personality is workable tho.

My haunt also had a… food focused, of sorts… attraction, where ofc it would be easy to put Chica…

But WTF do I do with Roxy? Or Freddy???

That will be a problem for another day.

#ryan rambles #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf au #fnaf fandom #fnaf fanfic #fnaf sun #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf moon #fnaf moondrop #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moon x y/n

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ryuichirou · 8 months

Note

Thanks for feeding us neigevil fans. I love your art so seeing you drawing this ship makes me happy, may the gods of twst gacha be kind to you 🥰

Idk if anyone has asked but thoughts or headcanons of neigevil? What about Rollo?

(We got this ask after this art)

Thank you so much for showing our stuff so much love, NeigeVil fans <3 It means a lot! And I, once again, am sorry that it took me a long time to reply. Like I’ve probably mentioned before, I want to draw these two again at some point. But today is not the day; instead, today is the day you get your headcanons, Anon!

Also if you haven’t seen these yet, here is the link to our post with Rollo-centric headcanons. We love this boy very much, and we’re super excited that he got himself a pretty-looking card.

Alrighty, so Neige/Vil…

Neige has a crush on Vil, and this crush has been with him ever since their first meeting. But he isn’t really sure about the nature of these feelings. He is very open about them with his dwarf friends though: sometimes he comes back from work happy and singing because he met Vil after his photoshoot and had a chat with him. So they all know that he is either in love or just really really really wants to be Vil’s friend. Neige isn’t sure which one it is either.

Neige remembers how cool and professional Vil looked when they first met, how he shook his hand and stuff. It wasn’t Vil’s first time on set, even though it was his first role, so he really made Neige feel comfortable by just being so confident and relaxed and excited. Neige really treasures this memory, but Vil doesn’t seem to remember much of it.

But what Vil does remember is that he thought they were going to become friends back then. Maybe it was because Neige asked him to be his friend, maybe it was because they had a lot of fun that day, but unfortunately it was one of many potential friendships that got ruined by the adults comparing these two to each other. It was pretty early on when Vil decided that he’d never be Neige’s friend. Neige is kind of oblivious to this whole thing though, he thinks that Vil is his friend, and the main reason he’s so distant is that he is just way too cool and professional and busy to hang out with him.

Vil has influenced Neige’s style a lot. He has no idea just how much time Neige spends looking at his magicam and taking notes and trying very hard to find clothes that would look as if Vil has picked them for him. If you talked to him about it, he would chuckle and say that he is too shy to ask Vil directly.

Which isn’t a complete truth though: he isn’t really shy around Vil. He gets so excited that he forgets about his shyness entirely and starts talking and clinging to Vil and trying to make him pay attention to him. He is completely enamored and he stares a lot at him in general. He really wishes they’d spend more time together…

A lot of times Vil just rolls eyes at Neige (always sneakily though, he knows better than to show a fellow actor his distaste for him), but he does admire his professionalism. And yes, there are moments when he thinks that Neige isn’t just overly cute and sweet, but actually quite a good-looking guy. Not entirely his type, but still handsome nonetheless…. Why is he thinking about it, again?

Vil is, like I mentioned, oblivious about Neige’s feelings. If anything, he believes that Neige is simply being a nice innocent boy and is friendly with everyone, so there isn’t anything special about the way he treats Vil. But jokes on you, Vil, because every single selfie with you that Neige takes instantly become Neige’s phone lock screen for weeks, until his management asks him to change it into something else.

Neige doesn’t have a lot of selfies with Vil though, because Vil always comes up with an excuse to avoid it. He is either in a hurry, or doesn’t feel good, or has a bad hair day, there’s always something that prevents Neige from taking a selfie with Vil. So it’s kind of a personal mission for Neige at this point lol Their fanbases also crave for this selfie… The day NeigeVil finally drop a picture of them together, the internet is going to explode.

A couple of spicy ones; if these two were to find themselves in any kind of intimate situation (even if it’s just a pretend thing for a role or something), Neige would comment about how much more experienced Vil is, and how he’ll work hard to be on his level. This comment sounds horrible to Vil in any context: the idea of Neige working hard to be a perfect lover to him is too cursed to consider. But it’ll still make him blush.

And jokes on Vil once again, because Neige is such a fast learner, that one moment he is a very sloppy kisser, and then suddenly he kisses and touches his body in all the right places because “he just felt like it’d make Vi-kun feel nice there”. Vil is going to both get overwhelmed by how good it feels, and be in agony because fuck you Neige stop being a prodigy at everything.

#replies #headcanons #neigevil

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oogaboogasphincter · 1 year

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After the Beep | Dieter Bravo x afab!reader

gif by @joelmjller

In your absence after last night’s rendezvous, Dieter has some fun with dirty voicemails.

word count/rating/warnings - 2800+ // swearing, recreational drug use (weed, reader and dieter both use), alcohol (only dieter) EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY: masturbation (m), anal play/fingering (m receiving), edging/orgasm denial (m), descriptions of oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (use protection irl obvi), anal sex (f receiving), mentions of strap-ons and gaping (?:!/!:), idiots in love sorta

a/n - this is such a strange fic? idk if i like the style i went with (not my usual)?? there are so many things in here that are just not me lol but i wrote about it anyways??? i hope you enjoy! <3

A hungover Dieter jolts awake when a strong, cold breeze whips through the open patio doors, skimming across his uncovered ass and raising goosebumps in its wake. He grumbles, blearily reaching for his sunglasses and jamming them on his face crooked before reluctantly slumping out from the sheets. As he goes to shut the offending doors, he pauses a moment and remembers that he's forgotten where he is. The absence of car horns, construction ambience and groans from other waking bodies staggers him further into disorientation. He squints out at the pristine backyard that greets him - exotic foliage manicured to the nth degree, a crisp swimming pool gleaming fierce in the morning sun, and not another soul in sight.

Ah, yes, he's at his actor friend's "getaway" house while he's in town for... what was it? Not an interview (it'll be a while before the next one since he botched the last so bad), not a movie (at least hopefully not, any and all scripts have been completely obliterated from his mind for the time being), what was it...

He closes the glass doors and absentmindedly scratches his stubbly balls, still staring out at the calm, confined water even though his pupils are hurting. The softness of his t-shirt against his fidgeting forearm surprises his delayed senses, as he doesn't remember putting it on when he went to sleep...

And suddenly all his questions are answered.

You.

He's in town because he wanted to see you. Dieter's not one for committal, romantic feelings, but his honesty wins over his ego when he admits that he needed to see you. Although you began simply as his favorite bootycall of this specific city, he grew fonder of you than he ever has for anyone else he has a similar exchange with. No matter the carnal options, no matter the city or time, he found himself requesting you over and over again. Whenever he tried to quench his thirst with another body, another substance, another side job, he was left parched and belittled.

You make him feel free. Not only because you aren't in the public eye (although that does help ease his paranoia when he's on a downward spiral), but because of the way you give him the space to be himself. He doesn't have to put on a performance for you, nor is he prohibited from expressing his innermost desires. He never once felt in your presence that he had to think too much about or hide what he was doing. You'll be there to listen, always, like he is for you. You tried to explain to him once that it was the least you could do, but common courtesy and decency doesn't extend far or hold very much genuine meaning in his industry, so it confuses him. You intrigue him; the way your mind works, he wants to translate your brainwaves to puzzle pieces and figure out how to put you together over and over again.

On a less heartfelt note, in combination with all of this - he's had some of the best orgasms of his life when he's with you. Maybe the trust correlates with lowered inhibitions, but your talents alone speak for themselves.

He grins to himself, eyeing the only article of clothing he's wearing: his shirt that you had fallen asleep in last night.

Minutes after he called you and told you he was in town, you were rapping on this unknown front door and pouncing on your tipsy lover. Winding your arms tight around his broad shoulders to bring him down to your height, wasting no time licking into his mouth, and hiking your leg up over his hip, almost tumbling the two of you over, he picked you up and took you straight to the bedroom. Hours upon hours passed, and you finally gave your sweaty skin a break by slipping on his worn shirt, relishing in the cool yet thin barrier it posed between your heaving chests.

Unfortunately, to Dieter's whiney dismay, you couldn't call off work the next day. You stretched away from his slack body with a teasing groan while it was still dark in the morning, giving him a show of taking off his shirt and throwing it at his face in retaliation to his smack on your ass. You thought he had fallen asleep before you left, but he dismally watched you leave, his heart bursting as you tried to keep quiet for him, and pulled the shirt on inside-out for your lingering smell and warmth to lull him back to sleep.

Before his brain can recall the explicit details of your rapturous night together, his cock is standing at attention. He was half-hard when he woke up, but now the veins that run alongside his length are rigid and his tip is a warm red, bobbing in the air. You were so ravenous for Dieter last night, and his energy sluggish thanks to a couple of drinks, that you had taken the reins and snatched every moan, groan and whimper you wanted from him.

Both being switches - and the previous rendezvous you had being him pinning you against the bathroom sink at his favorite restaurant, yanking your hair and making you stare back at yourself in the mirror, crumpling in his arms as you took his relentless pounding - it was a nice change-up.

But Dieter hates repetition.

Now all hot and bothered by racy thoughts of you, he swings the patio doors back open and plops down on the bed, resting his aching back against the headboard (he came to reason it wasn't just his aging muscles, you really had ridden him to oblivion.)

He artfully runs both hands over his naked groin, fingertips skating up his shaft and encircling the head in a tight ring, pulsing his frenulum once, twice, then releasing with a pent-up groan. He bobs himself a couple times, chuckling at his own absurdity. With the house all to himself, nowhere to be, nothing worthwhile to do until you get off of work, he chucks his sunglasses onto the sheets beside him. Oh, he's going to have some fun this morning.

It might be technically closer to afternoon, it's hard to tell in this city that always suns, but he doesn't care. He does care to take advantage of the circulating breeze pouring from outside into the room, and before settling deeper into the bed to begin his session, he leans over to the nightstand and grabs a joint.

Thank you, earlier Dieter, he congratulates on the first inhale, glad that he busied his depressed self after you left this morning with rolling more than what was necessary. He pauses to spit into his dominant hand, slicking up his cock from base to tip, and starts moseying to his peak. With a loose fist gliding up and down his shaft, he smokes for a bit and waits for the high to fully infiltrate his systems. He prefers being sober or only slightly influenced when he's with you; he wants to experience you unabashed, and you entrance him so much you're in a classification all of your own. But he needs to quell his sadness over your absence or else he won't reap the fruits of his own taxing labor.

The last tendrils of smoke are swept out of the room on his final exhale and with his increased relaxation comes down the barrier to his creativity. He locates his phone (hidden under a pile of Kit Kat wrappers that you nagged him to throw away) and calls you, the weed muddying his memory that you're on-call elsewhere. The robotic audio of the default voicemail message makes him grunt, but when the recording begins, his imagination sparks.

"Hey baby," a salacious grin works its way across his face, "I was just jerking my schlong, thinking about you and your pretty eyes, your gorgeous tits, that evil little smile..."

Your mischievous giggles ring in his ears, his strokes picking up speed. His tongue darts out to catch the drop of spit that has worked its way onto his parted lips, a flash of embarrassment running through him even though you can't see him (and would take utter delight in the fact that you literally make him drool),

"A-and, uh," he splutters before snapping back to his controlled, teasing tone, "and how much you wrecked me last night. I'm forever grateful, honey bun, you know that - but it hurt when you left this morning."

He mock-pouts, "You broke poor old Dieter's heart. I-I think you're gonna have to make it up to me."

His tone takes an abrupt, dominating turn. He growls into the receiver, "And I think I know exactly what I want you to do."

An image floats up through the haze in his mind: the underside of your soft belly, breasts and that conniving smile he mentioned baring itself in the moonlight. From last night - you rid his face until you thoroughly soaked him, that patchy scruff that's dappled along his strong jaw drenched in your arousal. He smirks, thinking of how you have ten hidden bruises dotted across your ass from his fingertips digging into your flesh to grind you down harder against his rabid tongue. Your overstimulated shriek of his name echoes in his head as he devises his plan for you.

"First, I want to fuck that narrow throat of yours," his hand on his cock shifts to grip the top third, his thumb rubbing over his head. He groans into the phone, knowing it'll stoke your voice kink.

"It's only fair since you fucked my mouth so good, I get to fuck yours."

He smears leaking precum around his head, adding more pulsing pressure to his motions, "I'm going to shove my cock down your throat, fuck you until I make you gag."

He imagines the wet, firm but giving sensation he's simulating with his hand to be the back of your throat, pushing up against its velvety smoothness again and again until you tense around his length, only tightening your oral grasp, swallowing around him and sucking him back further.

"And you're going to be a good girl for me and take it. Every last inch I feed you."

The daydreams are so vivid - his thick fingers gripping your hair, his hairy mound tickling the tip of your nose as his hips rock back and forth, your chin dripping with just as much wetness as his was...

He lets go of his cock entirely, edging himself. He can't cum this early - the fun has only just begun.

Dieter glances at his phone nestled in the sheets, and thankfully so, because he's reached the voicemail time limit. The line disconnects, but he dials you back in a flash, eager to tell you more of his dirty story. He rolls his eyes through the default message, although he's grateful you're still busy and didn't pick up, because this would've been a little awkward to interrupt him mid-smut. He continues his naughty monologue.

"You're already so good to me, Bunnicula, you really are," his words are gravelly and elongated with lust as he stretches his dick, admiring its robustness (don't mention the ridiculous nickname he has for you, it stems from your feral desires to fuck each other like rabbits and your penchants for biting.)

"You drive me fucking bonkers when you lick my asshole," one hand stays wrapped around his girth while the other travels down to his scrotum, inching past the sack and reaching his taint as he adjusts his position to something more... accessible. He massages the patch of skin with trembling touches, mimicking how you tease him. Because you don't just dive right in, no, you get your man crying for more.

Just like your tongue's path, he circles around his hole, dropping his head back into the pillows with a moan. The veins in his neck protrude and surge with restraint, the palm on his cock revving from its idle and jerking quickly from base to tip.

"The way you wiggle your tongue in there- goddamnit, baby," he chokes out, pressing the tip of his index into his ass, working it in a slow but strenuous orbit to open himself up. His jerking eases considerably, edging himself again. Against his back's wishes he leans over and spits heaping onto the area of interest, his body too fixated on throes to stop his ministrations and find the bottle of lube. Besides, he's never been afraid to lean masochist.

"I'm gonna give you the same treatment, open you up, nice and slow... because you're gonna fit my whole cock in your asshole," a fresh rivulet of precum leaks and spirals down his painfully erect length with his wriggling finger swallowed up to the knuckle. He bites down on his plush lip, that broad ribcage reverberating with hums of ecstasy. He focuses on the stretch of his own opening and fantasizes about how much more you'll have to take.

"If I can take your strap, bunny, you can take me. It'll feel so good, I'm going to fuck your tight, little hole until you're begging me to never stop."

He lays on the mock charm thick, "But bad girls who abandon their lovers in the morning for work don't get what they want: I'm gonna pull out, and you're gonna gape for me."

Another end of voicemail, another staved-off orgasm. Dieter lets go of his cock like it's on fire and slides his finger out of his ass, grateful the line is dead and you don't hear his pitiful whine of loss opposite his despotic words.

He breaks for a moment of reprieve before he starts teasing himself again, his resolve floundering at meek levels. All of this teetering on the cliff has quashed his energy - he's stumbling in smoke for a climactic finale to his lewd tale. His power to dominate is dwindling, the relaxing chemicals floating in his bloodstream luring him to last night, to let you take over and him sit (more like lay down and gawk) to watch your magic unfold.

He calls you a third and final time, already stroking his twitching shaft at a determined pace.

"I can't do all the work though, baby - I want you to ride me to your heart's content, just like you did last night. Mount me," his eyes close, fighting the urge to roll back and succumb to to his orgasm. Just a few more words, Dieter, and you can finish.

"Ride it," he pictures your hands pressing down on his chest, slipping momentarily out of your greedy stronghold from laborious perspiration.

"Bounce on it," your breasts jumping with your motions, your pert nipples taunting his hungry teeth.

"Grind down on it," your dance slowing to a gyrate, your figure swaying dangerously close to his trigger.

"Drench my cock with your cum until it fills my lap," he replays your screams in his mind, layering them with the gush of your arousal if you have the wherewithal - or Dieter allows you - to sneak your quivering hand down to your aching clit. He can feel it where his sweat pools now; your juices will gather right between his hips to lap up later.

"While you're raining down on me, I'm gonna shoot my load, stuff your sweet cunt full of my-"

The three minute limit is met again as Dieter's heart jolts.

"C-cum!" he shouts, littering his abdomen with streaks of his sticky, hot release. He's mumbling your name over and over again, addicted to you. His arm is fatigued, but his nerves are astronomically alight, so his body goes on autopilot while his vision spots with black, fucking his fist until every last droplet of his pleasure is tapped.

When he begins atmospheric entry, he lies slumped against the headboard, sedated. His entire being just feels like a void of television static, blue screen, buffering, for a solid few minutes. A dribble of his spend running down the slope of his belly shocks him back to life, its path rippling tingles.

Before he can fool himself into thinking he loves you - remember, this is Dieter Bravo: International Tramp - he picks up his phone.

He sends the text and removes his soiled shirt, reaching over to the nightstand to get another joint.

As his highs swirl into one euphoric daze, he wishes you were here now, if he had to choose one moment from his entire fantasy. Dieter likes to cuddle with strangers, gets paid to do it for his job sometimes, so the absence of post-coital snuggling, especially when it would be with you, is always difficult.

You rarely have the opportunity to smoke because of your job, but he imagines sharing it with you, watching you melt further into bliss through the calming clouds. You get handsy, giggly hugs never failing to lead to more heated touches...

His phone lights up with a message from you:

Maybe he is in love with you, if maybe means most definitely. All that's left to do is wait for you to come home and for the two of you to deliver on both your promises.

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#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x afab!reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #dieter bravo x you

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thealogie · 4 months

Note

not to distract from the dt-ms situation but i need to say how much i love whatever it is that Andrew Scott and Paul mescal have got going on. bc either they're actually fucking for real and so #good for them and also i win, or they're not even fucking and maybe mescal is even straight but they're still knowingly doing all of that and i still win! as someone who doesn't have the mind of a rpfer but who loves to see homosexuality on my screens this is just a great moment to live in 👍 and I encourage more actors to do that. WHERE are the queer-maybe-baiting lesbos?

We had such a beautiful moment in the 2010s where I feel like women were really in the “acting gay for my costar” scene but I think we just haven’t had as much lately which is such a shame.

As someone who doesn’t rpf but really does love actors being crazy for each other I will tell you I’ve never seen anything Iike the Andrew Scott/Paul Mescal thing. No one should ask them about it or make them feel uncomfortable but simply put the chances of them not being mutually into each other is 0.1% (idk if they will or even want to act on it im only observing with my eyes that they are both attracted to each other)

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satorutini · 5 months

Text

goldwing - gojo satoru ; geto suguru

pairing: gojo satoru/reader/geto suguru

summary: If you weren't mine, I'd be jealous of your love. Or-; you're an up-and-coming screenwriter, a late bloomer in your career who has suddenly found herself shaking hands with Hollywood's elite. when your idol upends your entire reputation at an award ceremony, how much are you willing to risk to set things straight?

rating: mature; eventual smut

wc: 4.3k

ch: 1/?

this was supposed to be a one-shot but it just. spiraled out of my control so quickly so here's a multichapter fic yay! I'm so excited, I can't wait to try my hand at writing unhinged gojo. it soothes a certain spot in my soul idk. no beta reader yet, just my two brain cells and Grammarly. happy new year! <3

read on ao3

The night was alive with the glare of camera flashes, the buzz of excited chatter, and the unmistakable air of glamour that draped the red carpet. Tonight was a celebration of the industry's finest, glittering beneath the spotlight of fame. Directors, actors, and actresses alike slunk across the strip of velvet, limbering out of long, jet-black limousines that line the block along the venue with all the practiced ease and grace that eluded you. You watch from behind a crowd of interviewers and paparazzi that line the roped-off walkway like over-excited attendees at a zoo as each star pauses to pose, preen, and bless a few poor reporters in the press pit with a bit of small talk in front of the onslaught of cameras.

Shoko Ieiri hides a laugh behind her cigarette-holding hand as the lead actress competing in the drama category trips over the train of a gown in a very unflattering aquamarine shade.

"Don't laugh," you admonished, albeit both secretly tickled and relieved to see a bit of humanity in an environment with such an intimidating aura. You don't think you've ever even been near clothes this expensive in your entire life. The passing thought makes you itch in your borrowed slip. "That could have just as easily been you."

Your famous friend, who had just completed her turn down the red carpet and was now hiding in your company for a quick smoke break, simply dismisses the thought with a scoff. She knows just as well as you do how unlikely it would be. She was practically nursed and weaned at these kinds of events. You glance around at the eager-eyed reporters, the influencers, the fresh-faced actors that climb out of the next limousine, and then back at your companion. A red carpet walk at an award ceremony to her was like what you imagine attending Sunday service was like to some people. Familiar, ritual even.

You can't help but blush when she catches you gazing at her pensively, grinning as she turns her amusement towards you. "You look good like this. In all of this, I mean," she gestures vaguely towards the dress she generously lent you, and then about the venue. "You look good. It suits you. I know I've already said this but…I'm seriously glad we met up again under these circumstances."

"Oh," You glow at her praise, her generous honesty anchoring you in this larger-than-life moment that's felt like it could slip away in an instant. You're afraid to breath too hard or blink too slow. It's probably evident that you're nervous, but you don't tell Shoko you've been feeling so out of place since you arrived that you're half expecting to be carried out by security at any moment now. You're doing your best to keep your composure. "Thanks…seriously."

You and Shoko had been good friends – best friends, even – in childhood until she was picked up by a popular family sitcom in your last year of elementary school and fast-tracked into stardom. You don't remember the exact circumstances of the situation, maybe just that you had felt a little slighted once you had returned to school after the summer break to find that your friend had picked up and moved to L.A. with little warning. Communication was strained, and inconsistent, and then eventually petered out as years passed. The sitcom had eventually become internationally beloved, and it's cast along with it. Shoko always existed in your periphery, but never long enough for you to gather the courage to reach out again. She was a star, in every sense of the word. So, when she came by the studio one day to surprise the lead actress for your short film, Utahime Iori, with a visit, you were pleasantly surprised as well.

Your brief reunion revealed that Shoko had been living the whirlwind, if not a bit traumatic, life of a typical child star. She and Utahime, a talented indie film starlet, were a very welcome presence in your life as you navigated your own late-blooming career.

Tonight, your Western short film was in the running to receive its very first accolade.

Well, not very first. A flurry of positive reviews and first-place prizes at film festivals is what led you here. But here, this-

"Ah, hell. Here comes the clown car."

You're startled out of your musing by Shoko's ire and a rise in the clamor from the crowd in front of you. Like a disturbed ant hill, the reports swarm to the front of the carpet, crying out for the newcomer's attention before they've even propped open the doors to a sleek, matte black foreign sports car with a brilliant baby blue racing stripe that glides to a stop at the start of the carpet. For a moment, anticipation rolls over the crowd and reflexively, you hold your breath. It feels as though time itself comes to a stop.

I've seen that car before; you think to yourself. Where have I seen that car before?

The car doors lift – lift – and out steps Satoru Gojo, the nepotism-blessed scion of a bygone Hollywood era. With a disinterested tilt of his head, Gojo straightens and adjusts his shades once, and the crowd erupts into chaos.

Gojo's rise to directorial prominence had been swift and tumultuous, his wealth and power inherited rather than earned. His family's name, etched in the golden annals of old Hollywood, had bequeathed him not just an unimaginable fortune, but also a reputation of mystery and privilege. He was first introduced to the industry during a failed attempt by his family to get him into acting as a kid. But Gojo quickly realized he didn't take to following directions too well – he preferred to be the one giving them. Thus, after a few years long hiatus in school and a very public downward spiral, the young starlet reemerged on the scene with a break-through fantasy thriller that would go on to become one of the most recognized film franchises and successful book-to-movie adaptations to date.

His shockingly white hair and startling blue eyes made him a rather memorable character. To those who worked within the film industry, he was well respected in his field but known to be prideful, cocky, demanding, and overly ambitious. But boy did he know how to work a camera. The contrast between Gojo's charisma on camera and the whispers of his notoriously cold, borderline demeaning, arrogance on set had set him apart in an industry that thrived on eccentricities. The tabloids did well to keep tabs on him. Gojo was often deemed reckless, uninhibited, and entitled, but most of all, Satoru Gojo was your fucking hero.

You would give anything to experience the way you felt watching Gojo's debut movie again for the first time. You remember the day so vividly, remember settling into the theater and griping to a classmate who accompanied you to see the movie that it wasn't fair that someone like him got to direct a big-name film just because he was rich. And then you can recall being effectively shut the hell up as your mind proceeded to be blown over the course of an hour and forty minutes.

You nearly float off of your toes trying to catch a glimpse of the shock of white hair over the crowd. "That-that's-,"

Dressed in a tailored black suit, Gojo pretends to shield his eyes from the relentless flashes, granting his on-lookers a smile that's all teeth. Even from where you stand, it looks a bit menacing.

At his side stands his enigmatic best friend and former child actor Suguru Geto, who grants the frenzied crowd an easygoing smile as Gojo slings an arm around him.

You notice Shoko tense beside you, quiet displeasure radiating off of her stance. She absently flicks away her dead cigarette bud. You catch the scowl marring her typically unperturbed demeanor as she turns sharply on her heel. "Let's head inside."

Shoko and Geto starred in the same sitcom for years, until they eventually aged out of their roles and the show was terminated after nine seasons. There had been a time, in your late teens and early twenties, when you saw the three of them in tabloids quite frequently. Satoru, with his impulse and daring, Suguru, with his brooding intensity, and Shoko, with her sultry, laidback charm, formed the trifecta of an unconventional trio that thrived on exclusivity and recklessness. Rager parties. DUIs. House raids. In the interim years between his schooling and his first film debut, Satoru Gojo and the company he kept were a menace to L.A. society.

You confess…there may have been a smaller, less important, more alternative reason to why reuniting with Shoko had been so serendipitous.

You're not entirely sure what their relationship is like now, but judging by the look on her face, it wouldn't work in your favor tonight. So, in the spirit of being a good friend, you force your feet to follow Shoko into the venue, even as your heart tugs in the direction of the man who inspired your career. As you retreat inside, you think you can hear him laugh.

Despite your best efforts, it is hard not to look a little starstruck while you sit through the award show. The audience glitters with critically acclaimed stars and new heartthrobs alike. The actors are wonderful but it's the screenplay writers whose every word you hang off of when they're brought to the stage and the directors who you fawn over when they squeeze past your section with a preoccupied, "excuse me."

At intermission, Utahime gasps from her seat beside Shoko. In her hands is her phone, unlocked and open to some social media feed.

"Fuck…shit!"

You learn over your friend, an eyebrow raised. From what you know of Utahime, she isn't one to sling vulgar language around carelessly. "Is something wrong?"

But Shoko is already one step ahead of you, prying the phone from her friend (girlfriend??)'s fingers and skimming over the opened post. She must not like whatever she sees, because the look on her face turns grim. "Fuck indeed."

"Can someone-, can one of you please just tell me what's going on?" You struggle not to feel exasperated, fiddling with your own phone to see if maybe it'll pop up on your own feed.

"It's Gojo," answers Utahime with more disdain than you're used to hearing associated with that name, which is quite a lot when you think back on it. "He mentioned our short film. In an interview."

All at once, your heart soars in your chest and your brain struggles to comprehend those words in the same utterance in real, real life.

"Gojo? Satoru Gojo? Said something about our short film?" You short circuit. "He's watched our short film?!"

Joy doesn't even begin to cover the immense feeling inside you. For a split second, you're overwhelmed with astonishment, veneration, and gratitude. You could rejoice-!

But then.

Then you pick up on Utahime's tone.

You notice how quickly Shoko is skimming through posts. The furrow in her brow. That oppressive force you'd felt outside has followed you into the venue and hovers over the three of you like a storm cloud, threatening to suck the air from your lungs. That bright, shining feeling in your gut suddenly sours in apprehension.

"What - um…What did he say?"

The lights in the venue lower, signaling the resumption of the award ceremony. When Shoko tilts the screen in your direction, the headline nearly blares back at you in the dim lighting.

Red Carpet Update: Satoru Gojo Calls Breakout Western Romance Short Film Blander than Triscuit Crackers

You rush out of the theater and into the bathroom quickly enough for no one to notice you almost vomit. In your haste, you finally give a name to the cold feeling you felt beside Shoko outside and in the venue. The expression that clouded her face and snuffed out the warmth in her eyes.

Resentment.

A hotel hosts the after-party. The interview took place a little over two hours ago, but the damage is done. That much is evident as you scroll through your flooded mentions, holed up in a cushy stall in the glitzy women's bathroom. Sat on the toilet and despondent. You've replayed the 30-second clip of the actual interview enough times tonight to recite his comments word for word by now.

The gleam in Satoru Gojo's smile is as bright and disarming in person as it is on camera.

"A Netflix original? Yeah, I can tell," he scoffs, then mutters more so to his companion – who stands quietly, looking uninterested at his side – than the interviewer, "They're really just giving these away to just about anyone now these days, huh?"

The words rattle around in your head like marbles in a tin jar. Loud, concussive. The weight of the moment settles on your shoulders like an unforgiving burden. While it's not enough to break the internet and go viral, your reputation is about to take a brutal hit. You press your phone to your forehead and try not to spiral. The cacophony of judgment online, the concept of failing your idol – it all threatens to swallow you whole.

Boring? Bland? You poured your heart and soul into writing that screenplay. What did Satoru Gojo, a director of fantasy films based on a series that was already written, published, and well-beloved, know about good writing? Or Westerns and romance for that matter?

As your grief churns into rage, a text notification from Shoko pulls you from your festering thoughts.

The text reads you can't hide in there forever, you know.

You open the message and scoff, smiling watery as you type your reply. Bet.

Tears threaten to overwhelm you again. This should be the best night of your life. You won! You actually won in your category, your first real award. And instead of living it up and celebrating with the wonderfully talented cast and director, instead of collecting your congratulations and basking in the revelry of your accomplishment, you are here. Excusing yourself from the party to slip away into the bathroom every few minutes because the mortification was unbearable.

Every well-wisher you had received greeted you with a slight look of pity in their eyes. Their voices are a little too high. Their handshakes are a little too eager. But you knew; they all knew. The only thing keeping you from ditching was Shoko's steadfast presence and the obligation to celebrate the cast members. This night was for them too.

With that in mind, you gather your resolve and slip out of the bathroom. Only to collide straight into someone waiting just outside.

"Fuck, are you okay?"

Whoever you bump into is like rushing at a solid wall of soft flesh. You stagger backward with the force of your collision as Suguru Geto, the infamous partner of the bringer of your demise, reaches to brace your shoulders.

"Ah-no, no!" You smack his hands away and then hold up your own as if to ward him off, feeling a bit childish and miffed that he hadn't stumbled at all. Your face is still flushed from remembering Gojo's biting comments. "Don't touch me! I'm good, thank you."

The man that hovers over you is tall and well-built. The world watched Suguru grow up on television, filling out a gangly little boy into this intimidating, silent force. His lengthy, gorgeous, inky black hair, quick wit, and sly smile earned him the title of heartbreaker at a young age. You would swoon at the way his muscles shift under that suit if only you weren't so fucking humiliated.

"Hey," Geto says, his renowned stoicism momentarily replaced by a flicker of concern. He murmurs your name. "You look like you could use a breather."

Your guard is up, but his peculiar sincerity breaks through the walls you've hastily erected tonight. Besides, he's not the one who made shitty comments about your work. He just stood there and watched in amusement as the real instigator did. His low-lidded gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the air crackles with unspoken tension.

"Yeah, maybe," you respond, your voice carrying the weight of frustration. You eye him warily.

Suguru steps aside, allowing you space to pass, but instead of letting you walk away, he falls into step beside you. The relentless rhythm of the party pounds in the background, nearly vibrating your skull as you squeeze your way through the glittering crowd to a quieter corner of the bar. At the far end, you spot Shoko and Utahime with the rest of your cast and figure it's better to keep your distance while you entertain your dubious follower.

"Look, about what Satoru said," Suguru starts, his tone low and apologetic. "He can be…reckless with his words. I wanted to apologize on his behalf."

The actor seems to crowd you into the bar counter, propping himself up on the surface and resting his cheek on his knuckles.

You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of skepticism and curiosity dancing in your eyes. What the hell is even happening tonight? How do you even know who I am?

"Is he making you do this, or do you just really feel that bad for me, after watching your friend publicly humiliate my work?"

You wonder why he's not apologizing to the actors, to the director, or maybe he's already gone out of his way to do that already, in your absence. And then you think of Shoko and figure that's an unlikely case.

Suguru has paused as if weighing his words carefully. "A bit of both, maybe…"

He takes in your disheveled appearance and exasperated expression. You figure your makeup hadn't fared well after the first onslaught of tears at the award show. Despite a night of what you can only assume has only been full of drinking and partying – Satoru walked away with six awards – there isn't a hair out of place on Suguru. His long tresses swept back into a slick bun, Suguru manages to make even a custom tailor tux look effortless and easygoing. As he scans your face, you can only imagine what you must look like to him.

Your new companion gestures the bartender over.

"Whiskey?" he offers, as if it's a universal remedy for wounds inflicted by Satoru's sharp tongue

You wordlessly accept the offer with a nod. The pair of you sit in uneasy silence until your drink arrives. Taking a swig from the glass as the warmth of the alcohol courses through you, you find yourself at least a little less likely to send the next white-haired person you spot to high hell. Distantly, you think you hear your sound producer cackle with glee above the noise of the party, obviously a few drinks ahead of you since your retreat to the bathroom. You down your drink with a grimace. I need to catch up.

"Not a whiskey girl?" The actor beside you simpers. The pleasant buzz of liquor makes it a little less annoying when his shoulder bumps into yours.

You ignore the question, deflecting with one of your own. "So what, are you like his clean-up crew or something? Your boyfriend pisses somebody off and you…"

You gesture vaguely at his stance, his teasing smile.

"…charm my way into their panties?"

"I was going to say good graces, but I'm sure that works out fine for you too."

Suguru laughs into his glass, warm and genuine. He's so close, you can feel the way the sound rumbles through his chest. You blame the blood rushing to your cheeks on the drink. Begrudgingly, you can't help but grin a little too.

Not one to be put on the spot, you ask him how he knew your name and how he recognized you. Rather sheepishly, Suguru admits that the only reason Satoru knew of your short film was because of him.

"I was already watching it, but he came in on the other half and-,"

"You mean he didn't even see the whole thing?" Your exclamation comes out sounding more like a squawk, feeling the effects of your second glass. "You're not doing a very good job of defending his case."

When Suguru chuckles, the warm air brushes the tip of your ear from where he leans over you, no longer wanting to yell over the volume of the party. "Satoru is…he can be pretty opinionated."

You catch the hint of adoration in his tone as he speaks about the man and subconsciously lean away in an attempt to widen the space between you - trying to throw yourself a life raft. You think back to how he didn't deny it when you referred to Gojo as his boyfriend and feel an inkling of discomfort.

As if noticing your unease, Suguru leans against the wall behind him, and the conversation shifts from apologies to shared experiences – Suguru's tales of the ruthless film industry before he came to work with Gojo, your shared struggles of creative expression, and the thin line between success and failure, which seems to be the theme for the night.

The more Suguru talks, the more you find yourself lowering your guard. Throughout the night, you find yourself wanting to make him laugh and glow at the results. His smile humanizes him. Gradually, a mutual affinity begins to form between the two of you. A shared understanding that transcends the chaos of the party, stemming from your shared admiration of Gojo. A deep admiration, you explain to your new acquaintance as the party dies down a little, that makes his ruthless comments and public dismissal hurt more than any loss at an award show.

"I can't help but feel like I disappointed him, y'know?" You murmur, resting your chin on your free hand.

When a singular, long finger extends to tilt your head in his direction, you nearly jump back at Suguru's sudden proximity. The whiskey has you feeling loose and easily flustered and god, when did he get so close to your face?

His thumb brushes your lower lip, and he freezes you with that low-lidded gaze. This close, his cologne tickles your nose, pleasant and intoxicating. It's not hard to sense that something else prowls beneath his easygoing demeanor. Something predatory that itches to catch you in its maws.

"You did," says Suguru, and you purse your lips, eyes glued to the bar counter. "But I think we can fix that."

You laugh but don't bother asking him how. Gojo has made your place in this industry, amongst your peers, incredibly clear tonight.

He leans in, and again, you wonder where Gojo is.

The same thumb that had traced over your mouth now encourages your lips to free.

"He's not my boyfriend, y'know," Suguru murmurs.

You grin, somehow both feeling spiteful and as though you know better. "If you say so."

Your lips brush, and then Suguru is pressing you into the bar, one hand resting on your hip, the other on your chin, molding himself into you. His kiss is short and sweet and tastes like whiskey. He sighs into your mouth and you think you catch a hint of cigarettes and spearmint too. The actor's grasp on your chin is both tender and assertive. For a single moment, the world narrows down to the feeling of his lips on yours.

Until your phone vibrates violently in your pocket, startling you from Suguru's hold.

"Oh, shit," you fret, whipping out your phone to see the caller ID. "It's Shoko."

Before you answer, Suguru swipes the phone from your hands and lets it emit its final ring before opening the contacts on your phone. You watch in disbelief as he adds his number and then drops the device back into your open hands.

"When you're ready to earn your keep, call me,"

With a wink, he slinks into the remnants of the crowd, disappearing as though he were simply a figment of your imagination to begin with. Dumbfounded by what just transpired, you're slow to remember to call Shoko back, who is armed and ready to give you an earful once you finally do.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been blowing up your phone for the past thirty minutes, and Utahime is sick, and our ride is here, we need to go-,"

In the background, you think you can hear Utahime moan something about her stomach. You wince.

"Sorry," As you make your way toward the exit, you can't help but scan the crowd of retiring partygoers. "Someone wanted to apologize to me."

Shoko either doesn't hear you or doesn't care as she argues with her chauffeur over the correctness of your address, but promptly hangs up after a sharply delivered, "Hurry!"

There's a lightness in your step as you exit the hotel that wasn't there when you arrived. Emotionally and physically exhausted after tonight's conundrum, a smile dances on the edge of your lips when you think about the number on your phone.

You think you can accept that maybe you won't be receiving that apology in person, from the person that owes it to you the most. You can accept that if this is what you get in return.

A pair of brilliant blue eyes track your every move between the bar and the bathroom behind a precariously set pair of shades. Satoru watches with rapt curiosity from his section at the corner of the party. After the third time you had excused yourself from your cheerful crew and cast, he had pointed Suguru in your direction.

Throughout the night he had observed the dynamic between you and his best friend, not at all surprised when you're quick to fall for his charm. When Suguru bends to kiss you, Satoru takes his leave for the night, feeling thoroughly satisfied.

You didn't really know it yet, but you had something Satoru wanted. And he had every intention of getting it, even if it meant getting his hands a little dirty.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk #geto smut #celebrity!au #possessive!gojo #fanfic #director!gojo #screenwriter!reader #actor!gojo #goldwing

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edwad · 4 months

Note

Do you ever worry all of the critique you're mounting on Marx is "too academic"? Not that it's necessarily incorrect, but that it won't translate these into changes in political practice in the world even if it's accepted that your critique has merit?

If Marx was just an abstract philosopher who was fumbled around with in the hands of academics only, perhaps this question would seem absurd. But that's not the case for Marx - he and his thought, however incomplete and incoherent, is still grappled with by political actors, however incompletely and incoherently themselves.

And there a whole world of "politics" that "the Left" the world over, still haunted and driven by Marx and Marxism, takes part in...organizing parties and taking part in elections, (intra)-union organzing, legal advocation, protests and mass demonstration, education and seminars, fighting guerilla wars, building communes, etc...and I presume that you are part of the Left that sees all of this action as pointing towards, if only potentially or latently or incoherently, towards revolution and communism.

What are you hoping your intervention does in this world? Are you aiming for a specific, identifiable change in the world of politics and of the Left? Or does the critique justify itself on intellectual grounds alone, even if one can't imagine clear changes in politics and social practice following from it?

i always think it's a bit funny when people level accusations against me of being too "academic" when not only am i totally outside of academia but i probably had less (and worse!) formal schooling than them. i don't say this because i think you're making that kind of case (i certainly read you as being more charitable than that, although maybe you really are going for a dig, idk), but because i think it's clear that even undereducated lowlifes like me have some vested interest in these things for both theoretical and practical reasons. its not about job security for me in the ivory tower, its just the kind of things i think about on the way to and from work (my long reblog earlier was written on the way to my store). to more directly address your question, i think these things have meaningful stakes which aren't reducible to the luxury of academics peddling abstract thinking (although, most of my academic friends are pretty broke too, so im not trying to joust with them here as much as with this notion of an institutionalized marx scholarship that im somehow dabbling in). the takeaway here shouldn't simply be "what if marx is wrong about the political economists he's working with", it's "what if marxs analysis of the system, and by extension, his critique of it, falls flat"

this has political stakes for anybody whose political thinking and aspirations involve using marx as a resource. if he gets capitalism wrong (and, if immanent critique means anything, how could he get that part wrong while adequately understanding the system which is supposed to directly account for the object he is critiquing?) then what does that mean for our anti-capitalism? sure, we could be productively misreading him and still demanding things which maybe aren't justified by his analysis but which are worth pursuing, but how can even tell? by what standard? what if actually our well-intended political maneuvers simply make things worse, as plenty of liberal thinkers would suggest? we can say "yeah well they're dumb liberals so they don't know anything", but this only works if you can safely assume you're right and that they're wrong on the basis of a semi-coherent understanding of the world around you. the ways you struggle against that world is shaped by your understanding of it, and the things you hold against it or the possibilities for what it could be are entirely bound up with what can only be called a "theory" of the system. i think the theory we have of the system has significant political/practical consequences, and if marx is wrong about all of this then we'd be forced to rethink what that means for us as marx-influenced communists.

in that sense, im not demanding a particular change in political strategy, im interested in posing a problem which i think we have to be able to answer. otherwise the whole thing collapses and we might as well settle for social democracy or whatever.

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wiihtigo · 4 days

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CASEY NATION RISE 7, 9, 17, 20, 23, 25

ask game

7. What’s one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

i used to think that she didnt care much about the art of actually acting and cinema and stuff and for her it was more about just being famous and it didnt matter how. i think that was partially because although i knew i wanted her to lust for fame and money the acting dream was kind of just randomly decided on. i thought i could easily swap it out with modelling or singing or something and it wouldnt make much difference. but the more time ive spent with casey, the more i see her as a true lover of movies and art....which i think leads in well to her endgame job being a script editor rather than an actor. her true talents lie behind the screen even if she herself doesnt see it...

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

whats a girl to do - cristina

a post canon (after nell dies) caseys life anthem:)

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

well i was going to blame it entirely on you that nell dies and i had no say in that but i suppose i did come up with her emotional reaction to that myself, which causes me a lot of slow damage pain. SO I GUESS THAT..the fact she pushes michelle away after it happens is really depressing to me because thats literally her only friend left and only possible pillar of support, but she pushes her away because she hates everything and shes mad shes not nell and shes mad at her family and wants to explode. I think she'd be marginally less suicidal if she stayed friends with her.....

I guess also pulling from alternate realities the one where she dies is pretty fucked up. and very painful. and nell doesnt even make it to her to cradle her in her arms. SAD

20. Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

yyessss. at least when he and nell start getting lowkey. no. highkey #serious. early in their setup he wouldnt gaf if nell was married to a businesswoman in russia.but when they start ummmm [redacted] then hes like waittt. lol waittttttt lol wait. lol. WAITTT. gets a little annoyed when theyre at the doom patrol warehouse party and jayna from the wonder twins tries to get ladybugs number. THATS MY BODYGUARD..GET YOUR OWN. it manifests in that he'll get clingy to nell and mean and passive aggressive (or just aggressive) towards the person pissing him off. will be petty and spiteful (sees some poor scared nervous young lesbian trying to say hi to nell so he slides in and nuzzles up to her shoulder in public to let that sstupid kid know to go away)

idk why he does this. if you asked him if he liked nell he would say And what has she done to MAKE me like her

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

lol GRIEF. little casey has never experienced a death before nell! not even a pet death. she has no idea how to process those feelings or cope with them in the slightest. she goes like catatonic immediately after the fact bcuz shes so completely shocked and wasnt prepared for it at all (lowkey thought ladybug was too awesomeand strong to ever get got. stupidd)

on the complete flip side, also .....l-l-l-l-l-l-l--l-l-l-l-l-l...LOVE. or at least feeling a smidge of serious romantic attraction to someone. in canon end she never gets to deal with that bcuz she only realizes it after nell died and then promptly buried everything related to nell deep inside a hole. but in nyc nell simply has an epic near death experience where hes hospitalized and thats when casey is like fuuuuuuuuuck that scared me. DO I LIKE HER? she acts a bit pathetic and tsundere abt it which is endearing to me personally. maybe scares nell a bit. its cute to me though <3

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

shes not a good person </3 shes selfish and mean and doesnt care about other people </3 bent on revenge and hating </3 genuinely not a good guy </3 i love everything negative about casey the most

i also think secretary characters are sexy.

#asks #hi. goodbye #casey

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mecachrome · 4 months

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no wait please go on more about oscar’s winning mentality… and most of all whether/when you think there will be tension of a fracture with lando because i’m sure it’s inevitable 🤧

hi anon!!! :') haha okay well this might be an annoying hot take but the reality is that i don't think there's such thing as a "winning mentality" in the first place T__T or idk how you meant it (and of course please feel free to elaborate if you'd like!) so i apologize sincerely if i'm completely misinterpreting your question, but for me personally what i appreciate from oscar is rather certain qualities he possesses / has been said to possess that i believe put him in a favorable position to better attain an optimized performance threshold, if that makes sense, which maybe sounds pedantic and many would argue is essentially a winning mentality but i still try to be careful with how much i correlate driver intangibles with outcome-based hypotheticals because i find that many fans + journos + team personnel alike can be eager to perpetuate an ideal of a "mentality monster" or "a future wdc" as though either construct is delineated by the same universal qualities when imo that simply could not be further from the truth…

…i've started and deleted like 5 paragraphs about car/driver/team development & the service ecosystem of professional sporting industries & human tendency toward recency bias and arbitrary pattern recognition but much of this is most likely not relevant to your question at all so let me try to be a bit more brief LOL.

the short of it is: motorsport and f1 in particular are interesting because all professional sports are entertainment products that rely on human unpredictability, but the level of agency its primary actors are privy to and the degree to which certain intangibles (e.g., mentality, drive, Wanting It, Dawg/60 as i say when talking about hockey, and in some sports even individual marketability) are upheld as competitive instruments vary widely per the nature, construction, contact level, global reach, etc. of each sport. with f1 the "front-stage" end product is of course the race package media companies are contracted to present to a global audience, but its primary actors (drivers) occupy a unique position in that they are both the vehicle facilitating that product but also occupiers of another, both figurative and literal, Vehicle that is in itself its own end product, only designed and manufactured in a back-stage black box. and so most of the time in sports, the entertainment is not only the product itself but also the discussion generated around the product, which is then enhanced by the exchange of external data and anecdote, but the problem with f1 is that this sort of end-product inception and the inherent secrecy of car development makes for third-party analysis of the sport that is equally complex and limiting… as in, f1 fans are constantly being inundated with soooo so much data because it's literally a sport built on relative numbers, but all of that data is pretty much useless without proper contextualization—sure, you can look at public telemetry all you want, but you can't really present an informed conclusion on certain approaches or styles or deficits unless you also identify nuances of both the car's inherent characteristics and its specific set-up during the session. which is also how i feel about evaluating driver mentality!!!

basically i think there's no such thing as a meaningful "winner's mentality" at the top level of any sport because everyone wants to win, inherently, and without this ambition you wouldn't be in f1 to begin with. i also think the adjacent idea of a mentality uniquely crafted to becoming a winner is in itself a vague concept for f1 because there's less of a binary quality to performance than compared to other true team sports (yes you technically lose every race you don't win, but it doesn't explicitly count against your season record). in this case i'll define it as becoming f1 wdc… which of course we all know is contingent much less on driver influence than on team direction and development, and again is why i dislike the practice of saying x or y is "wdc material" because that's a very meaningless metric at the end of the day.

god okay i know i never shut up about andrea (SORRY AGAIN.) but personally i really love the way he talks about oscar because i think he understands this relativity very well, and that a driver should develop specific, identifiable, and objective actions in order to support the optimization of their processes (and thus performance!) rather than to achieve any specific outcome (winning). that is to say… i guess honestly, my idea of a "winning mentality" is simply not having a marked preoccupation with winning in the first place, because what matters most is being able to consolidate the right now of what you can control in order to support the later of what you will achieve, and letting the results speak for themselves instead of getting caught up in the idea of needing to or wanting to win (when that should already be a given). which i do think oscar embodies! some astella quotes:

“I don't look how far we can go. I just look [at] what do we have to do now to go as far as possible?" (qatar press con)

"For me what is important is just a sense of journey. The results take care of themselves, so what you really have to focus on is, every day, try to be better than yesterday." (speedcafe)

"I'm not one that works by targets or expectations. I really work by process, by identifying what's the right approach, what's the right vision, and then let results come to you. [...] Let's not think about the results. Let's just think about ‘how do we deliver performance projects in this many areas of the car, such that we can be innovative, such that we can be fast in developing, but also developing at a pace that is sustainable over time?'" (btg)

My God… That's Oscar Piastri's Music!!! anyway i guess what i'm trying to say is that i don't really think there is any true characteristic a world champion must have because it is less about the characteristic itself and more about how it interacts with other characteristics and the way a person manages this sum total—take the idea of "consistency" for example, which is often liberally applied to drivers without any temporal/material granularity. do we mean over an entire career or a season or during a single race length? do we mean consistency in terms of race craft or qualifying pace or a specific metric like race starts and reaction time? being consistent is good if it means that you're consistently getting high positions relative to your competitors, but it can also veer into an overly conservative approach. so to me everything requires a very finetuned balance of raw pace, consistency, adaptability, and a healthy capacity for self-reflection, and it's why i really liked the way andrea talked about how oscar had natural speed as a rookie but also took this incremental approach to his weekends by working toward his maximum session over session, because pushing the limits in fp1 is useless if you're still navigating and identifying new areas of opportunity. but of course this then also relates back to the timeline of adaptability and how everything in motorsport is = the faster you can "adapt" (within a weekend but also over the course of a season) the higher your stock is, so this gradualism must also be well-managed. and the thing is that a driver's capacity to adapt as they move onto newer categories and face new technical regulations is something we as outside observers cannot truly predict or project even though we all love to try!!!

there is a whole spiel about defining what adaptability even means in motorsport here but i'll spare everyone. i think it's very fair to say that oscar is a generally adaptable driver (in that he can get up to speed with the technical components of a new car quickly, that every championship he won in his junior career was in a new chassis, that he has an ingrained "awareness of what the opportunities are" when driving and the "capacity to self-recognize where there is more to come from either himself or from the car," and he so far has shown marked improvements over the length of a race weekend that reflect positively relative to rookie expectation), and it can be assumed that his most pronounced weakness from 2023 will be much better mitigated now that he has crucial track experience in hand, since tyre degradation is expressly something simulator work cannot fully prepare you for. but at the same time i really reject any notion that ~now that he's not a rookie + because he's an adaptable driver + his mentality is sooo much better than lando's (when again it is about the Sum Total of characteristics and not how one specific characteristic is reflected in previous wdcs) his pace will immediately match/challenge lando's~ because first of all, no, and second of all the quantitative mystery is still, how much of that race-pace deficit can better management annul for oscar (or conversely how much of it is simply inherent to him)? so there are too many variables… and anyone who tells you they can predict that is lying!

also re: Potential 814 friction…!!!!!! i guess again as i always say there are really too many variables to make assumptions here... and i think it's hard to imagine, actionably, what a fracture would even look like for them, since lando and oscar are both people who manage the on/off-track separation well and i honestly don't really foresee any huge professional fallouts even if they do have to fight for positions on-track more frequently. but like andrea said, if oscar wins before lando then it means (unless it's a truly fugazi win lol) that mclaren has a car capable of winning, and i again reject this idea that lando is so mentally weak that he isn't capable of being motivated by that, and equally it is actually a Good Thing for a team to have "two #1 drivers" so long as that relationship is well-managed... will they even have two #1 drivers next season (i.e. will oscar really be that much closer to lando)? and if so will it be well-managed? that i cannot tell you!!!!!

honestly teammate dynamics are not something i'm ever confident in extrapolating much from because there are so many contingencies to Who wins first / does anyone even win at all (X to doubt) / who outperforms whom (and how do we measure that) / who "leaves more on the table"... all of that stuff......... but it is definitely a very interesting question. and i will be eager to witness how their relationship develops based on the mcl38's performance next season and of course its performance relative to rb/merc/fer!!!

#ask #i'm sorry anon this is probably not what you asked i feel like i do not know how to give normal answers T__T i have annoying pedant disease

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