#freeing Meek Mill

[fish-in-need-of-a-bicycle]

Update below original post

The Iranian Regime is going to execute rapper Toomaj Salehi for supporting protests of Jina Amini’s murder by the regime in his songs.

Iranian activist Elica Le Bon says, “Iranians in the diaspora picked up on the fact that the regime tends not to execute people who become known to the international community. We have seen many examples of prisoners that were either released on bail or had their sentences commuted through our “say their names to save their lives” campaign on social media, using hashtags to garner attention for their causes, and even before social media existed, through getting the stories of political prisoners to international media outlets. Once reported on, and once the eyes shift to the regime and the reality of its pending brutality, realizing that the action is not worth the repercussions, we have seen them back down and not execute. For that reason, this is part of an urgent campaign for readers to talk about Toomaj as much as you can, using the hashtag #FreeToomaj or #ToomajSalehi. Every comment makes a difference, and if we were wrong, what did we lose by trying?”

Update: Hey everyone! Toomaj Salehi’s death sentence was overturned! The most recent article I could find says he is still in jail though. Please keep sharing, because people to need to understand what’s happening. According to Amnesty International, Iran carried out 74% of the world’s executions in 2023, not including executions from China since they don’t release those numbers. The execution rate is growing higher with 67 executions in June alone, 48 of which were ethnic minorities despite all together being only 40% of the population. Their crimes are protesting the government for murdering women. Please keep sharing, because while there are many injustices happening far away that can’t be stopped by posting, the Say Their Names to Save Their Lives Movement works.

[mansorus]

GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE

… I’m bout to pull a Barter 6 🧭🏔️🧏🏾‍♂️

moral of this post

Execute your concepts and ideas

[seeingivy]

the other side of the door

satoru gojo x f!reader

**part of my gojo as taylor series

--

tsumiki and megumi fushiguro unknowingly cause a damper on your relationship. 

you can feel satoru gloating at your side, his cheek nearly flush with yours, as you click the little arrow on your laptop.

your very meticulously made google calendar was perfect – a play by play of what you were doing at every second of the day – but at the current moment, was very deeply betraying you. 

“we’re already a whole month back, sweetheart.” satoru murmurs. 

you bite down on the softness of your cheek, sinking back against the headboard as you keep clicking, for the smallest sliver of light blue in your calendar. 

it was a little on the nose, but it was the calendar that you shared with satoru – the one that marked all the special events like dates, anniversaries and the like.

and at the current moment, much to your disbelief and to the point that he had been trying to convince you of for the past hour, there had been an absence of him for weeks now. 

you throw in the towel at the tenth consecutive click (silently ignoring that it means that it’s been well over two months now) and slam your computer shut, before turning over to him and frowning. 

“you’ve made your point.” you murmur. 

satoru grins, gloating in full flesh at the meekness in your voice, as he beckons for you to scoot closer to him on the bed. you absentmindedly lean your head against his shoulder, a motion that he welcomes with a quiet kiss on your forehead. 

“have we really not done anything together in more than ten weeks?” you mumble. 

you used to go on dates almost every week. satoru was as spontaneous as it got – any day that you spent with him was almost a guarantee of nothing not going to plan. 

it meant going to the beach in the middle of the night, an unplanned road trip on your day off, and everything in between. 

or it used to mean that. 

satoru pauses for a second, almost like he’s milling over the thought, as he rubs circles into the side of your bicep. 

“it’s just been a while since it’s been just you and me.” satoru notes. 

you sigh. you suppose you worded it wrong the first time.

toji fushiguro dying unknowingly put a damper on your relationship. 

because he left megumi and tsumiki in your wake and two kids – two kids that you had done nothing to prepare for – can and most certainly did turn things upside down. 

it meant that satoru had to work more at the school, that you having any sliver of free time was less, and that the amount of stress you had was through the roof. 

the two of them came with their own special resort of problems – of things that you couldn’t help but worry about. 

megumi wasn’t too fond of satoru. they had their rare moments, but there was something about him that was extremely closed off, to everyone, but to you a little less. and to satoru, extremely so.

his requests to you always came in quietly, asking you to stay next to him until he fell asleep, to forgive him for fighting at school all the time, to promise to never leave him. on the flip side, his irritation with satoru was something that he made sure everyone was aware of. 

tsumiki was very fond of satoru, but she was of most people. sometimes it felt a little obsessive that way – the way she was a little bit too close to her friends at school, the teacher in her class, and satoru.

he thought it was sweet, and at most times you were inclined too as well, but the obsession with being so close all the time was concerning. 

and possibly even more than that, that most of the things you saw felt like they were a figment of your imagination, because satoru was so blind to their plight. 

he didn’t worry about them as much as you did. but sometimes it felt like he didn’t see exactly what it was that you saw – tsumiki awkwardly pushing her food around the plate, red scratches all over megumi’s arms towards the end of the week, and matching pairs puffy eyes when they came down for breakfast in the morning. 

though it wasn’t entirely his fault either. because by some turn of luck, every time they were around him they smiled – laughed at his dumb jokes, turned their nose up at the impressions he did of all of their teachers, and snuck into his classroom between periods to get snacks. 

satoru pokes at the side of your temple. 

“don’t feel too bad now. i know this entire thing has been stressful. especially for you.” he murmurs. 

you shrug. 

“you seem to be taking it just fine.” you note. 

satoru shrugs. 

“i can tell that most of your stress comes from what they’re doing at school. who megumi is fighting with, tsumiki’s friends – i can’t really relate to that because i’m right there with them. granted, tsumiki is two classes up, but her teacher gives me updates all the time.” satoru responds. 

you give him a quiet nod. 

“and since i’m there, i can tell you that they’re fine. he hasn’t fought with anyone in a few weeks now. and tsumiki is really excited to go to this dance.” 

you groan. 

“that dance you signed me up to chaperone for?”  you groan. 

“the very same. it’ll be fun.” 

you curl your nose in disgust. 

“spending my very limited free time giving snacks to a bunch of sweaty kids and asking them to not grind on each other isn’t my idea of fun, satoru. and some of your co-workers freak me out.” 

satoru elbows you in the side. 

“suguru will be there. and plus, it’ll be good for me. you’ll be my date.” satoru responds. 

you lean back against the headboard. 

“you didn’t even ask me to the dance.” 

“it’s sadie hawkins, y/n. girls ask boys, silly.” he responds, flicking at the softness of your cheek. 

you sigh, before turning to him and giving a smile. his hair is slightly damp from the shower he just took, skin still soft from the warmth of the shower. and it’s the thing that you worry about most. 

you’ve slipped away from him because he let you. that you neglected him because of the kids, but at some point, he became so accustomed to it, that it didn’t even bother him anymore. 

“are you going to go to the dance with me, satoru?” 

he gives you a glimmering smile. 

“i thought you’d never ask peach.” 

--

satoru marks it with a big pink heart on the calendar the next morning. 

“what’cha looking at?” you ask, placing your hands on the tops of both of their heads and ruffling their hair. 

“the heart.” megumi states. 

you hum in response, crouching down to be level with their heads. megumi welcomes the touch, leaning back against your knees, as tsumiki nestles her face in the crook of your neck. 

“it’s for the dance.” you respond. 

megumi groans. 

“does that mean miss miwa is going to come over to our house for dinner?” megumi asks. 

you frown. 

“and why would miss miwa come to our house for dinner?” you ask. 

you would rather die than invite miss miwa over to dinner. 

kasumi miwa was tsumiki’s seventh grade teacher who you had the displeasure of meeting three times, each in the worst possible circumstances. 

masked in faceforward politeness and her flashy personality, she had no reservations in correcting you each time you made a mistake when it came to the kid. that pick-up time was at two-thirty, not three-fifteen, that the projects were due at the end of the month, that the formal uniforms were for wednesday and wednesday only. 

tsumiki was overly fond of her, satoru had nothing but good things to say about her, and megumi wasn’t a fan – but that was the norm, so you didn’t think much of it and kept it to yourself. 

your sneaking suspicion about her were ones that you kept to yourself. and one that you didn’t even have time to worry about anyways. 

“isn’t that what you do when you take someone to a dance? eat dinner together before?” megumi asks. 

“who is taking miss miwa to the dance?” you ask. 

“gojo, obviously.” tsumiki responds, shuffling away from the calendar to her seat on the dining table. 

you can feel the muscles in your shoulder tense, a terse stiffness in your neck as you ponder over the thought. 

megumi follows suit and you trail behind the two of them, keen to poke for more details. you note that tsumiki’s already made a mess of the food on her plate by swirling it around, as you take a seat in between them. 

“and why would gojo obviously be taking miss miwa to the dance?” you ask. 

“because he’s her work husband.” 

you narrow your eyes at her, gesturing for her to explain. 

“you’re his home wife. well, i know you guys aren’t actually married, but you’re his person here. and miss miwa is his work wife. she’s basically like what you are to him, but just at school.” 

you sigh, as you reach for the glass of orange juice and down it in one go. megumi spares you a weird glance, before miwa continues. 

“tsumiki.” megumi states, voice cautionary as he flits his eyes at you. 

she misses the hint entirely. 

“he eats breakfast with you, but lunch with her. and they’re planning the entire dance together so they spend a lot of time together. she even gets him coffee in the mornings.” 

so that’s why he stopped asking you to make it for him. 

it’s right at that moment that satoru shuffles into the kitchen, his tie hanging around his neck, as he scoots closer to you on the chair. it’s a chaste kiss that he presses to your cheek, before eating, and you can’t help but wonder. 

was he so despondent because he had already found your replacement? 

“you have to come by an hour early today. we’re having a meeting for the chaperones.” satoru states. 

you give him a quiet nod as he leans back and you loop the knot through his tie. he gives you a glimmering smile as you tap the top of his shoulders, signaling that you’re done. 

“save me a seat?” you ask. 

“always.” 

the thought doesn’t leave your mind the entire day. 

--

you arrive thirty minutes early, an overly sweet coffee in your hand as a gift for satoru, as you make your way over to his classroom. the hallways are quiet, sparsely decorated lockers, as you turn the corner and enter his classroom. 

only to find an absence of snow white hair and miwa excitedly scribbling on the board instead. 

you knock on the door twice, watching as miwa turns over with a sickly sweet smile, and strolls over to where you’re standing. 

“y/n. it’s so great to see you!” she states, wrapping her cold arms around you as she gives you an awkward embrace. 

you spare her a polite smile. 

“you too. how is tsumiki doing?” 

“she aced her spelling test. she ran all the way over here to show satoru her result and took a whole picture with us to celebrate.” 

satoru. you wondered when they had pranced into first name basis territory. if miwa ran over here with tsumiki each time, and how many pictures the three of them had taken together.  

“that’s sweet. thank you for helping her out, that means a lot.” you respond. 

“and thank you! you’re so sweet for helping with the dance. i know how busy you’ve been.” 

you pause. 

“what do you mean?” 

“satoru just mentioned to me a few times that you guys haven’t had any time to yourself because of how busy you are.” 

so he was talking about you to her too? 

“yeah. things have been hard to adjust to with the kids and all and i’ve been putting in more hours at work to pay for the karate and piano classes and all that. but he understands.” 

she slightly twitches her eye. you wonder if she does it on purpose. 

“oh, of course he does. you’re doing very important work.” 

you swallow hard. 

“you too.” you respond. 

“i mean, it’s just so rewarding. especially getting to be so close with students like tsumiki, after she lost her family so suddenly. i couldn’t imagine.” 

you sigh. 

“i mean. she lost her dad, but she still has a family.” 

“of course she does! you’re putting in a great effort –” 

it’s right at that moment that satoru walks in, eyes wide as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. you can still feel the tenseness simmering under your skin, misplaced anger for him festering in your head, as you offer him the drink.. 

“for me? you shouldn’t have.” satoru responds, exaggerating by placing a hand over his chest. 

you shake your head as satoru wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading you to one of the desks right at the front. he shakes the coffee in front of you, as you deny the offer and lean forward on your chin. 

“miwa and i are leading the meeting so i can’t sit with you. but i told shoko and suguru to sit right next to you, which is basically the same thing.” 

you smile. 

“shoko looks just like you! i can barely tell the difference.” you deadpan. 

“don’t go kissing her now.” 

“i make zero promises.” 

satour gives you a glimmering grin. 

right at that second, there’s three consecutive knocks at the door, accompanied with a set of spiky black hair at the door slightly peeking into the room. 

“you can come in megumi.” satoru responds. 

megumi drops his backpack at the door, fast steps dragging him to where you and satoru are sitting. he taps impatiently on your thigh, gesturing for you to pick him up, as you secure him into your lap and rest your head on top of his. 

“always interrupting our alone time, aren’t you kid?” satoru jokes. 

“and why are you not in class?” you ask. 

“it’s passing period.” miwa answers. 

you turn your head to where she’s standing – chalking assignments onto the board – as megumi sneers, giving her a very steady glare. 

“why are you not in your class?” megumi asks. 

“i’m leading the meeting with mr. gojo for the dance.” 

“isn’t that meeting in twenty minutes? why are you here early?” 

you lightly nudge megumi in the side, taken aback by his tone, as you turn towards miwa and giving her a polite smile. 

“he doesn’t mind, he’s just not feeling well. please feel free to stay.” you respond. 

“i was planning to.” miwa responds. 

you ignore the strange response as you lightly tug at megumi’s ear, whispering in a hushed tone. 

“i do mind.” megumi mumbles. 

“well, you don’t tell people that. she isn’t doing anything, so just pretend like she’s not there.” 

you sigh, turning to satoru and frowning. you know he gets the message, as he leans forward and pinches at megumi’s cheek. 

“you’ve got to stop giving y/n so much stress, kid. she’s going to get an ulcer at this point.” satoru states. 

“i could say the same thing to you.” megumi responds, in a matter-of-fact tone. 

satoru looks up at you, a shadow of a smile on his face, as he crosses his arms over his chest and questions megumi. 

“oh yeah? and how am i stressing her out, huh?” 

“you have another wife.” megumi states. 

you pinch at megumi’s elbow. 

“another wife? i didn’t even realize that i had one to begin with.” satoru responds. 

you give satoru a smile. 

“tsumiki said that miss miwa is your work wife. and y/n doesn’t like that because she should be your only wife.” 

satoru’s eyes widen, as he dramatically places a hand over his chest, before dropping to his knees and looking up at you. 

“y/n, if you wanted me to marry you, you should have just said so. i’ll marry you right here, right now.” 

you snort, turning to megumi, as you whisper in his ear. 

“he’s completely crazy, right?” you ask. 

“absolutely. i think you should cut your losses. you could do way better.” 

satoru spares you a laugh, before reaching for megumi and tickling at his sides. 

“you should cut your losses, kid. i’m revoking dessert privileges for attempted coercion” 

megumi looks up at you, eyes expectant as he waits for corroboration. you shake your head, which earns you a playful smile from megumi, as he looks over at satoru and sticks his tongue out. 

“oh come on. we’re supposed to be a team.” satoru whines. 

“you haven’t pledged your allegiance. you and tsumiki ganged up on me the other night.” 

“well, we had a valid reason. we should definitely get ice cream after dinner.” satoru states. 

“not when it’s a school night and they have to wake up early next the day. you don’t want them to be late to class. again.” 

satoru sighs, before placing his hands on his hips. 

“speaking of class, you should be getting to yours. c’mon megs, i’ll walk you. say bye to y/n.” 

you crouch down on your knees, giving megumi a pinch on the cheek, as he glares at you. he sticks his hand out, the tow of you doing your complicated and convoluted handshake, before megumi and satoru stroll out of the classroom. 

“your relationship with megumi is very sweet.” miwa states. 

you had almost forgotten she was there. you turn your head to find that she’s seated at satoru’s desk, pulling up slides for the projector on the computer, as you awkwardly rub your sweaty palms together. 

“thank you. he’s just a little shy, that’s all. he didn’t mean to be rude earlier.” you state. 

miwa hums in response. 

“i hope you aren’t upset about the work wife thing. it was just a silly little inside joke that satoru, tsumiki, and i had come up with.” 

you narrow your eyes at her. 

“just because we spend so much time together. lunch, the development workshops, and emailing in between classes. we’re like attached at the hip so we just joked that we were married. but no foul play, of course.” 

you sigh. then why did she feel the need to bring it up to you? 

“of course.” you respond. 

“i’m so glad that we could clear this up. i would hate to think you’re upset with me.” 

you give her a nod, turning your head to the door as shoko and suguru trickle in, wide smiles on their faces as they turn to greet you. 

it leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

--

three days later, you’re thirty minutes late to the meeting for the school dance. leaving the hospital late because the next nurse wasn’t there to get her report on time, getting stopped by every stoplight on the way to school, and circling three times for parking. 

you sneak into the gymnasium, quietly making your way to the tables in the corner where suguru and shoko are seated, only to be stopped by a shrill voice in the air. 

“y/n?” 

you turn on your heel, giving miwa a clenched smile, as you feel your heart sink into your stomach. 

did she need to look so perfect all the time? 

“i thought that was you.” 

“right, i apologize for being late. i was caught up with –” 

“we were wondering where you were. they’ve been making such slow progress on the little take home favors that i was considering pulling satoru from doing the streamers with me because of it.” 

the first name. again. 

“right, it’s just that i was –” 

“i do hope you can come on time to actually chaperone for the dance. that would be a disaster since we need to have a certain adult to child ratio to be in line with the district. you will come on time, right?” 

“yes, i took –” 

“good. i know that your job is important, but ours is too, you know? granted, you leave satoru’s kids here every day, and spending all day with them is just as demanding as working at a hospital.” 

you sigh. 

“satoru’s kids?” you ask. 

she gives you a smile. 

“what?” 

“you said satoru’s kids.” you clarify. 

“and?” 

you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling burning hot tears in your eyes, as you look up at her. 

“they’re my kids too.” 

“right, of course they are. you know i didn’t mean that.” 

you sigh. 

“honest mistake.” 

you feel two hands on your shoulder, accompanied by a squeeze and the distinct smell of satoru’s cologne in your ears. 

“hi sweetheart. you smell like bleach.” 

“oh my god. i thought that was just me.” miwa responds, accompanied with a laugh. 

you bite down on your cheeks. 

“i was sanitizing the gurney. because our patient bled all over it.” 

“don’t bring up blood. miwa here is going to start vomiting.” satoru jokes. 

miwa leans forward, lightly shoving in his side, as he shoves right back. 

“oh shut up. you feel the same way whenever i eat my fried rice.” 

“the smell of soy sauce makes my stomach hurt.” 

“god, you’re so weird, toru.” miwa responds. 

you clear your throat, as the two of them look over at you with expectant eyes. satoru eyes hold no weight of suspicion or guilt in them – really nothing at all – and it makes your stomach hurt. 

“i’ll be back. i just have to use the bathroom.” 

“don’t get lost!” miwa responds, as you trudge your way down the hallway, dragging your feet against the floor. 

you can feel the frustration building up in your chest.

the annoying part? you do end up getting lost. 

you sit on the bench outside one of the classrooms, hiking your knees to your chest, as you press your forehead against your legs. it’s not long before you feel three taps on top of your head, only to look up and find suguru standing in front of you. 

“miwa sent out a search party for you. she thought you might have gotten lost.” 

you sigh. 

“she works fast, doesn’t she?” 

suguru snorts as he takes the seat next to you, digging into his pocket and digging out a lollipop. he holds it out to you, giving you an encouraging smile as you snatch it from his hand, and unrawp it. 

“i thought you were going to offer me a cigarette.” 

“i’m saving those for the night of the dance. i only use those when necessary.” 

you laugh. 

“save half of them for me. i’ll need those every time miwa decides to come over and talk to me.” 

you lean back, sticking your head against the ridge of the window pane, as you immediately regret what you just said. 

“sorry. i don’t mean to talk bad about her, i know she is your coworker and all but –” 

“but she’s just so fucking annoying?” 

you pause, leaning forward as you lower your voice. 

“it’s not just me?” you whisper. 

“you’re in a very large majority, y/n. she’s just…too much for some people.” 

you frown. 

“not for satoru. i don’t know if you heard, but she’s his work wife.” 

suguru winces. 

“you heard about that?” 

“i’m slightly offended that you did and didn’t tell me right away.” 

“didn’t seem like a good time. satoru was mentioning that you guys were kind of going through a rough patch.” 

you pause. 

“a rough patch?” 

“are you not?” 

“i mean, we haven’t spent time alone together, since we’re still getting used to the whole kids thing. i didn’t realize that he was telling you and miwa it was a rough patch. or that he was telling you and miwa anything.” 

suguru leans back, placing a hand on your shoulder, as you pause – pondering over the thoughts, of every little detail that you had noticed. the nicknames, the lunches, the emails – maybe they were more serious than you had originally believed. 

it eats at you when you and surugu eventually drag your legs back to the gymnasium. and as you make the little party favors, it’s the only thing that you can focus on. 

that satoru holds onto her ankle to steady her when she stands on the ladder, that they have a secret handshake, that in the time that he didn’t spend with you, she was the one that was filling the space.  

--

“we’re out of toilet paper. and dish soap. and if you’re going anyways, you should probably get laundry detergent.” satoru states. 

he shuffles into the bathroom quietly, yanking his shirt over his head as he gestures for you to scoot over, reaching for his toothbrush in the cup. 

“megumi also said that we shouldn’t eat spaghetti again. he’s starting to get really picky with what he eats.” 

you sigh. 

“i’ll get more chicken nuggets when i go then.” you respond. 

satoru turns his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at you, as he sticks the toothbrush into the side of his teeth. 

“are you good?” 

“hm?” 

“are you okay?” 

you shake your head, reaching forward to spit the leftover toothpaste in your mouth, as you reach for the mouthwash. 

“yeah, yeah.” 

“miwa said that you looked really exhausted when you left. said she was worried about you.” satoru responds. 

“i’m sure that she is.” you respond, noting that you can’t control the bitterness in your voice. 

“hm?” 

you sigh, slamming the cup down on the granite countertop, as you turn to him. 

“do you always talk about me with your female coworkers? or is it just her?” 

“what?” 

you turn to glare at him. 

“do you always discuss the grievances you have about me with miwa? about how i don’t have time for you, about how we’re going through a rough patch, and everything in between?” 

satoru looks confused. you swear there’s a sense of irritation in his demeanor which wasn’t unexpected. he was defensive to his core. 

“no. i don’t. but she’s just a friend. i just mentioned it to her here and there because she asked.” 

“and why does she feel the need to ask about your relationship with me? that’s not normal. especially when she clearly likes you so much.” 

satoru glares right back. 

“are you insane? she doesn’t like me.”

“oh so now i’m insane. yeah, it’s totally normal for her to walk around pretending like the two of you are married and telling me that my kids aren’t actually mine and they’re just yours.” 

satoru scoffs. 

“oh come on. there’s no way that she said that.” 

you scoff. 

“so you believe her over me?” 

“she wouldn't say that.” 

“and you think i’m making it up? why the hell would i do that?” 

satoru slams the toothbrush down on the counter, before leaning forward and sneering at you. 

“because you want to blame me for what’s happening with us when it’s really you.” 

you feel your heart drop in your chest. 

“it’s me?” 

“you work too much. you…every time you come home, you don’t even look at me. it’s all about how megumi’s being too picky with what he eats and tsumiki is getting too attached to her friends. those aren’t problems, and even if they are, you’re the one making them worse.” 

you can feel your chest aching from the inside out. 

“you were the one who told tsumiki that the hurt would go away if she was with her friends. she obviously is so obsessed with being around them all the time because she thinks that it’ll go away if she’s with them all the time. because you told her that. and megumi’s so spoiled and picky because you’re the one who tolerates every little thing he says. just because he asked you to sleep in his bed, it doesn’t mean you have to do it every time. you have to let him do some things on his own.” 

you glare. 

“and what about you, huh?” 

“what about me?” 

“since i clearly do everything so wrong, i must have been the one who pushed you right into her, didn’t i?” 

satoru pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“you know what, maybe you did.” 

you look down at your hands, reaching down at the little scab on your finger as you angrily scratch at it, ignoring the bright red that starts leaking out of your finger. you look down at the ground, at your mismatched socks, as you barely choke the words out. 

“maybe i should just leave then.” 

satoru’s face drops. 

“what?” 

if satoru was defensive, you were proud. 

“i’ll do you a favor and leave. tsumiki won’t get horrible advice, megumi won’t get coddled, and you…you won’t be disappointed because i won’t be here to do it.” 

satoru immediately melts, reaching forward for your wrist, the grasp hard on your arm. 

“peach. don’t be like that. you know i -”  

“know you don’t mean it? because i had a sneaking suspicion that you…that you had been thinking that for weeks.” you whisper, noting the crack in your voice. 

you ball your hand into a fist, jerking your hand out of his grasp. 

“i don’t know what to say to tsumiki because…because i’ve never done this before. i don’t work with kids like you do and i just said what i was thought was best. it breaks my heart to say no to megumi because i’m scared he won’t even try to sleep if i don’t sit there with him. i know it scares him because toji was asleep when he died and…and sometimes i think he’s scared he’ll wake up and we’ll be gone too. and….and i don’t mean to neglect you but this entire thing is exhausting. i thought you were the one thing that would stay because i could trust you.” 

“hey. of course you can trust me.” 

“i’ve had enough, satoru. there’s…there’s nothing you can say to take back what you just said. you…you’re talking about another girl.” 

satoru leans forward, placing both hands around your face, and squeezing hard. you note the slight glisten in his eyes. 

“don’t say that.” he whispers. 

“i’m going to leave.” you murmur. 

all you want is him. 

“and go where? we….we’re all here.” 

“i’ll stay with shoko. just for a few days before we figure something out.” 

“you…you can’t be serious, right?” 

you’re not. 

“i’ll still come to the dance since i promised you that. i’ll see you then, okay?” you state. 

you’re not sure what makes your heart sink more. the fact that he said what he did or that he let you leave without chasing after you. 

--

satoru notes that it’s a day and a half of chaos without you. and that he really hates it when you’re not around. 

he doesn’t know how to iron tsumiki’s dress for the dance or do her hair. megumi won’t eat the pasta he made because it’s not the way that he likes it and he’s almost positive that you were right – that he really wouldn’t sleep through the night just because you weren’t there.  

that without noticing it, you felt like the glue that kept everyone together. that tsumiki and megumi didn’t stress him out, only because you seemed to take care of that for him – used to fix everything perfectly, like a soothing bandaid on every issue that they had. that sleeping next to you used to seep the stress out of his joints, the sweet smell of your shampoo lulling him to sleep. 

that he needed you around because he was scared to be without you. 

“shoko.” 

“yeah?” 

“can you do me a favor?” 

satoru sighs, as he turns over to her. 

“i did tsumiki’s hair all shitty because i didn’t know how to do it. can you go fix it because i can tell she’s lying when she says she likes it?” 

“why didn’t y/n do it?” suguru asks. 

satoru pinches his lips together. you were upset that he was sharing your relationship details with other people. which is why he was determined to not do it again. 

“she’s coming in from work.” 

“god. when does she sleep?” suguru murmurs, as she walks across the room and gestures for tsumiki to come over to her. 

satoru can’t help but feel miserable. only because he didn’t know the answer to the question. and that he was the only one that was so painfully blind to how tired you were. 

“did you and y/n fight it out then?” he asks. 

“what? no.” 

suguru’s eyes widen. 

“she’s got balls of steel. i can’t believe one person can have that much patience.” 

“what are you talking about?” 

“the stuff that miwa said to her. i figured she’d ask you to stop talking to her or scale back a little.” 

satoru looks over, hands hard on his shoulders, suddenly too interested with the conversation. 

“what did she tell you?” 

“i mean…i don’t know. she said you and miwa were talking about how she smells like bleach? and the whole work wife thing, that megumi and tsumiki aren’t her kids.” 

satoru can hear the blood rushing through his ears. 

“what?” 

“yeah. she didn’t mention it? she was pretty upset about it the day we all came here to set up, especially since work can be so demanding and all that.” 

“she said that megumi and tsumiki aren’t her kids?” 

“yeah. seemed pretty hurt by it. think it was the second time too.” 

satoru stands eagerly by the table, switching the clipboards in their spots two, three, four times as he waits for the last thirty minutes to run out. until you had to show up, because you promised that he would. 

and surely enough, five minutes before it hits the time, he hears a shrill voice from the stage, followed by the sound of thundering footsteps. 

“y/n!” 

satoru looks to his left, watching as megumi and tsumiki both excitedly run into your open arms, limbs wrapped around your legs as you reach down and soothe through both of their hair. he can’t help but trail up to where the three of you are standing, chest aching wholeheartedly, as he watches. 

“did you miss me?” you ask. 

“so much. gojo put butter in the pasta. and he spilled all the detergent softener in the laundry room so the smell gives us a headache.” 

he notes that you frown at the mention of his name. 

“and he did my hair all weird. shoko was trying to fix it, but i couldn’t find the clips that we were going to use to match the dress.” 

“don’t worry. i swung by the house and grabbed them, they were in my drawer.” 

“where did you go?” megumi asks. 

you smile. 

“sorry for leaving so abruptly, kiddo. i was having a sleepover.” 

“adults have sleepovers?” 

“no. but i’m just cool like that.” you murmur. 

the two of them grin, laughing at your joke, as you reach forward and put your hands around their wrists. 

“satoru’s trying. don’t be so mad at him. it’s not his fault that he has the cooking intuition of a newborn baby. and he can barely do his own hair, it was kind of silly of you to expect that he could do yours.” 

satoru can’t help but laugh. but it’s the sound of his voice, he assumes, that draws your attention away, as you finally look to your left and look up at him. he can’t help but give you a halfhearted smile, one that you nod at, as you stand up. 

“i’m going to give satoru a stern talking to about butter and hairspray. i’ll come fix your hair after, okay?” 

“give him hell.” megumi responds. 

you watch as the two of them run off, before turning over to satoru and giving him a smile. it’s almost like he reaches forward to touch you, before he thinks twice and drops his hand. you look down, twisting the silver bracelet – the one that he gave you – on your wrist, as you take a deep breath. 

“you still don’t know how to do your tie.” you note. 

satoru laughs, looking down at the loose knot hanging around his neck. he can’t help but delight in the fact that you reach forward, loosening the mess he made as you properly tie it for him – the way you did every morning. 

“never learned how to do it so you’d always do it for me.” 

you stifle a laugh. 

“satoru.” 

“i can’t do anything without you, you know?” 

it feels like he’s talking about more than just the tie. 

he must sense the hesitation, because he changes the topic just as fast. 

“i love the dress. you look beautiful.” 

“thank you. i bought it for our…” 

“third anniversary. i remember.” 

you smile. 

“i remember what we did after more, but…” satoru whispers. 

you reach forward and shove him. 

“we’re at a school.” 

satoru smiles. and for a split second, it feels like nothing had happened at all. 

“too much butter makes megumi’s stomach hurt. and you really should have asked me to come do her hair.” you state. 

“would you come if i asked?” 

you swallow hard. 

“hm?” 

“would you come back if i asked you to?” he asks. 

“would you even ask?” you respond. 

satoru pauses. 

“what?” 

“when i left, i…i thought that you’d chase after me. i…i wanted you to chase after me. but i understand that now things are kind of fraught between us and that you might –” 

satoru feels the regret seep through him immediately

“i was trying to give you your space.” satoru states, interrupting. 

“hm?” 

“i thought that i’d push you farther away. of course i’d chase after you.” 

“it’s so nice to see you, y/n. did you sign in?” 

you turn to your left to find miwa standing there, hair perfectly secured around her face with glittering earrings hanging from her ears. you wonder if the shade of blue her dress was intentional, if it was meant to match her eyes so perfectly, as you smile at her. 

satoru notes the horrible timing. and that he hates her dress. 

“hi miwa. you look beautiful.” 

“so do you. did you sign in and start marking the wristbands when you came in?” miwa repeats, tone insistent. 

“she was talking to me.” satoru responds, tone harsh as he responds. 

“hm?” miwa asks, tilting her head to the side in confusion as she looks up at him. 

“my girlfriend just got here. she was obviously talking to me.” satoru responds again, tone unflinching. 

you note that her eye twitches the slightest as she steps back. 

“of course. just get to it when you can, since you know, people will be here soon.” 

“i’m going over there right now actually. i’ll leave you guys to it.” 

“hey, wait. i’ll catch up with you after, miwa.” satoru responds, his hand extended as he gestures for you to wait. 

you watch as miwa shuffles away, slithering to the other side of the room, and there’s a burning, aching desire in your chest. 

to tell satoru that she wore that dress to match his eyes, for the two of you to laugh at how crazy she was. you wondered if he would even find it funny. 

“yes?” 

satoru looks down, reaching for the bag underneath the table, as he lifts it up. 

“i brought my windbreaker for you. it’s supposed to rain tonight.” satoru states. 

you smile. 

“i kind of tore apart your entire closet looking for it. and if i remember correctly, you did indeed say that it was mine now since i wore it more than you.” you admit. 

satoru smiles right back. 

“i also got you a corsage, peach. since you’re my date and all.” 

satoru pulls out a little plastic box, as you note the little white flowers encased in the baby blue ribbon. you can feel your chest aching, a burning sensation, as you reach in your own bag, pulling out the matching corsage that you had ordered a week prior. 

“you had to have cheated. did you look in my email?” you ask. 

satoru shakes his head. 

“i know you like orchids. and you’re so on the nose that you’d get one to match my eyes.” 

you shove him in the side. 

“you love that corny type of thing.” 

satoru smiles, before looking over at miwa and then back at you. 

“only when you do it.” 

you smile as you both exchange the boxes, fixing the flowers on each other, before quietly walking away from each other. 

--

you sneak away from the dance without satoru noticing. you catch the perfect moment, when satoru and miwa are stuck in an animated conversation near the dance floor, and slip through the door at the front. 

you clearly don’t go too unnoticed, because the following day, you wake up to a plethora of texts from suguru and shoko. 

[shoko]: Left for work already, but Satoru yelled at Miwa last night after you left.  

[suguru]: IT WAS BAD 

[shoko]: Did he really say that Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t your kids? That’s horrible. 

[suguru]: HE WAS LIKE YELLING OUTSIDE. GOING ON ABOUT HOW YOU’RE HIS GIRLFRIEND, HOW SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT, ABOUT HOW HE WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH HER 

[shoko]: Oh, by the way. He’s like still on the porch. Sat through the rain last night and everything waiting for you. Think he was pounding on the window at some point and screaming but the rain was pretty loud. 

[shoko]: Said something pathetic like he loved you or something. 

[shoko]: Anyways, I left them out there for you to deal with.

that’s the next that gets your attention. you quietly pad to the door, swinging it open to find him sitting on the ground, half asleep against his knees with the corsage crumpled in his hand. you reach down, shaking at his shoulder to lightly nudge him awake. 

“satoru. don’t tell me you sat out here in the rain.” you whisper. 

he blinks a few times, the sleep still heavily lidded in his eyes, as he reaches forward, a cold hand against your warm cheek. 

“chasing after you. not going home without you.” he mumbles. 

you sigh. 

“maybe come inside first, romeo. you’re going to catch a cold.” 

you reach for his hands, lightly pulling up, and dragging him inside as he takes a seat on one of shoko’s chairs. you crank the heater up, putting a cup of milk on the stove for hot chocolate, before shuffling back over to him – noting that he’s slightly more awake now. 

“i was knocking. and i’m pretty sure i was banging on the window at point, but i guess you didn’t hear me.” 

“the rain was loud, satoru. i would have let you in if i had known.” 

“gave you a whole spiel. it was really good too, about you know…us.” 

you smile. 

“us?” you question. 

he doesn’t laugh. 

“yeah. us. about how much i need you. how much i love you.” satoru responds. 

you note that there’s a rasp in his voice. 

“you’re getting sick, satoru.” 

“i know you don’t want me to leave. i know you want to come back.” 

you sigh. were you that obvious?

“did you yell at miwa?” 

“did she really say they weren’t your kids?” 

“maybe.” 

it’s enough to set satoru off because he’s pushing off the chair, cold hands and wet clothing pressed to your face as he envelopes you in his embrace. you can still smell the faint whisper of his cologne, the smell so sweet it makes your stomach hurt, as he clenches harder. 

“sweetheart, why wouldn’t you tell me that? i’d fucking yell at her then and there.” satoru whispers. 

you frown. 

“she’s your work wife. tsumiki like…loves her. i can’t just talk bad about her.” 

“yes. you can. you could talk shit about my dead grandmother if she pissed you off. you could tell me anything if it was upsetting you.” 

you frown. 

“and you could have told me instead of everyone you knew that we were going through a rough patch. i know that you mentioned that you were upset we didn’t have time together, but…but i didn’t realize that i was letting you down so much.” 

satoru reaches forward, titling your head up to face him. 

“you didn’t let me down. i was being….” 

“you’re just saying that because i left. if i was still there fighting with you…you…you’d have even more to say to me. about how how i worry too much, about how i don’t love you enough, about…” 

“y/n.” satoru whispers, almost whining.  

you push away from him. 

“i made you hot chocolate. i think you’re getting sick and that you should go home and rest. also shoko would hate to see you bringing your wet mess in here.” 

you push out of his embrace, tasking yourself with pouring the hot chocolate into one of her tumblers, before placing it in front of him. he ignores it entirely, reaching forward to make himself level with you. 

“you know i’ll be waiting for you. i’ll be right on the other side of the door waiting to open it if you want to come back.” 

“okay.” 

“yeah? don’t…don’t hesitate to come back home, please. it’s not home without you.” 

you give him a nod, lifting the tumbler and placing it in his hand and gesturing for the door. 

--

satoru hears three consecutive knocks not even an hour after. he all but tumbles down the stairs, nearly slipping as he reaches for the knob, to find exactly what it is that we wanted to see. 

the jacket pulled over your head, bright red eyes staring at him, and warm tears pouring out of your eyes. 

you. 

“satoru?” you mumble. 

he can feel his heart drop at the tears and the crack in your voice. 

“yes, peach?” 

you note how soft his tone is. 

“are you sick?” you ask. 

satoru smiles. 

“had a fever last i checked.” satoru responds. 

he’s not sure what it is, but it sends the tears down your eyes faster, as you all but reach forward and burrow your face into his chest. satoru returns the favor, reaching down to rest his chin on the top of your head as he rubs circles into your back. 

“it’s not cancer. i’m sure i’ll live.” 

he pauses. 

“sweet girl. what’s got you so upset?” 

satoru notes that you make no inclination of responding, as he pulls back and gestures for you to wrap your arms around his neck. he scoops his free arm around your legs, steadily carrying you up the stairs as you heave in the sweet smell of his shampoo, warm tears still landing on his more pale than usual skin. 

“are you really sick?” you ask. 

satoru spares you a quiet laugh as he sets you down on the bed, peeling the jacket from your arms before digging through the fresh laundry for your pajamas. 

“maybe take a shower first. you’ll feel better.” 

you frown as you push off the bed, your cold hands on his burning hot arms as you look up at him. this couldn’t wait. 

“i lied earlier. there’s a lot you could do to make things right.” you whisper. 

satoru smiles. 

“i know. i fully intend to do all those things too.” 

you sigh. 

“i want to stay in the rough patch. and…and even be here with you if we fight everyday. and you're sick and it breaks my hear tthat no one is here to take care of you.” 

“i have no intention of fighting with you when you’re right.” satoru responds. 

“you can’t just…” 

satoru pauses, holding his hand up. 

“i shouldn’t talk to my co-workers about you. and you…you’re right. i do think that she likes me and that’s why she’s felt the need to be so rude to you all the time. i’m sorry if it ever felt like i was siding with her, but you have to know, the only thing i really want is you.” 

satoru sighs. 

“tsumiki follows your advice so keenly because you’re so put together. she can’t really come to me with that stuff because you’re the one she looks up to. and megumi really doesn’t sleep when you’re not around, but of course, you’re the one who knows him better, who knows all of us better, to think ahead like that. and i love that you’re put together for them, but you don’t have to be for me. i want to know everything that bothers you because you…you’re my responsibility.” 

“well, i –” 

you pause. 

“i don’t want to upset you again.” 

“well, run away all you want. i’ll follow you anywhere you go. i had every intention to come wait outside of shoko’s apartment again at seven. every intention to do it every day until you came back."  

“i wouldn’t make you do that.” you respond. 

you swallow hard, before reaching for both of his hands, and lifting them to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles. 

"if you don't want to upset me, don't leave again. i'll do it, but i don't want to wait outside of shoko's door for you."

“i’m proud, but not proud enough to make you wait like that. i followed you five minutes after you drove away.” 

satoru smiles. 

“i left because….because i wanted you to chase after me, just so i knew that you still wanted me. it’s immature but…” 

“no. it’s not.”  

“i just…i don’t know how to explain what i was thinking but i…” 

satoru leans forward, hands knotted behind your waist as he pulls you closer, searing warm lips pressed against yours as you lean against him. you can still taste the remnant of the chocolate on his lips, noting the cut on the right side of his lip. 

maybe you don’t have to explain at all. 

“have you been biting your lips?” you whisper, forehead flush against his as you brush your nose against his. 

“was nervous you wouldn’t come back.” he murmurs. 

you lean forward again, placing your hands on his burning hot face, as you feel the wetness spreading on his cheek. you lean back, wiping it away just as fast, before the door creaks open. 

tsumiki and megumi are standing at the door, bright smiles on their faces, as they run up and tangle themselves between your legs. you lean against satoru, running your hand through megumi’s hair as you look up at them. 

“is your sleepover over? we’re starving here without you.” 

you stifle a laugh. 

“yes. it is.” 

you and satoru crouch down, his hand steady across your waist as you pinch at both of their cheeks. satoru leans to the left to press a kiss to your cheek, an action both tsumki and megumi copy, as you lightly pull them off. 

“we missed you.” tsumiki responds. 

“i missed you more.” 

“are you happy after your sleepover? are we normal now?” megumi asks. 

always the perceptive one. 

you look over at satoru, granting him a gleaming smile. 

“yes. i am.” 

“oh thank god. satoru was getting sad too.” tsumiki responds. 

you turn over to him and grin.

“take notes, kids. happy wife, happy life.” 

--

an: ignored the voices and decided to post something! please me nice I was like fighting demons. anyways.

taglist: @invisible-mori @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @torureadz @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

[rubylioness]

Another thing, Jay-Z and Beyoncé saying, “Free Meek” in 2018 despite the fact that he used to beat Nicki, all while basically abandoning her in 2018, and Bey and Nicki were supposed to be friends I thought…

Like, I don’t know why she’s obsessing over Megan, like come for their tea and whatnot

Oh, and let’s not forget her fake-ass friend Drake, who been actin’ funny w her since 2019 (had that whole song w Meek Mill)

[spiegelgestalt]

Get fucked Kendrick! Get fucked!  (Drakes rhetoric strategy  part 3/? The OG Family Matters)

So after doing this breakdown I finally understand why Drake’s rhetoric strategy really didn’t work: it really needed Kendrick to fall apart like Wayne or Meek Mill. Or at least go ballistic after push ups like Pusha T (but that won’t sting as much because it happened before and Drake preempted the worst stuff) – and so imagine this:

Push Ups: Your label is abusing you – you are an industry puppet

TMF: You are only powerful when you hide behind people who are more powerful than you and now you are standing here all alone

A reaction where Kendrick becomes super defensive and/or goes low

Family matter part 1+2: Your wife cheats on you with your best friend. One of your kids isn’t yours. You stand alone and now I’m going to kill all the people you are hiding behind! Oh look they are dead! Well then, I’m going on vacation because I’m a completely unbothered king – try harder next time!

Are you seeing the vision? That’s a decent strategy. Conspiracy theories under the cut:

I believe that family matter originally only had two verses. Verse 1 about Whitney, Dave and Kendricks children and verse 2 about everyone else. Maybe there were some little changes made here and there (I mean Drake had to add the N-Word to show that nothing what Kendrick says bothers him. At all. Not even a little bit.)  but I think they were mostly done. The vid is shot at the same location just from different perspectives; the second verse has a clear ending [I’m going on vacation now] and it’s connected to verse 1 through the Abel line. These two verses together also make sense for the story Drake is trying to tell: after all Kendrick is only someone if he has people to defend him.

This angle would also explain the weird way Drake is treating Whitney. Because let’s face it: Whitneys role changes several times during the track: is she a thot (you know drop 29 for the thot?) does she cuck Kendrick with Dave Free (but why is the son light skinned? Did she also sleep with a white dude?) Is she a poor abused woman? In verse 1 it’s very clear – Kendrick cheated on Whitney/ Whitney cheated on him -> their relationship is broken and can’t be repaired. And they should break it off. You can take the “set that shorty free” in two ways: Either it’s Whitney who’s supposed to leave Kendrick and than give sexual favors to Dave and Drake (because she’s a slut you know)

Or and I’m inclined to believe that more just because of the way Drake used sexual imagery in this battle until now: It’s meant to be Kendrick. He’s supposed to let Whitney breathe instead of trying to save something that can’t be saved (remember her captions scream “save me”) and then accept the abuse by Drake and his general manager (notice how Drake removes all friendly ties of Daves and Kendricks relationship). After all he got fucked by Top, he got fucked by Taylor and now he can be fucked by Drake and Dave. It also alludes to Kendrick’s song “for free” which is basically about the fact that Kendrick won’t just be fucked over by the industry. Oh no Kendrick. You’ve always been fucked and now it’s Drakes turn.

And that would be the perfect ending for Kendrick Lamar.

If, you know Euphoria didn’t make this whole angle really really unlikely.  And also really hurt Drakes feelings ☹.

[stedefxckingbonnet]

requests info/intro!

hi, everyone!

i thought i'd take a quick second to introduce myself and to also formally open up requests. i'm already working on a few things, but requests really do always help and feel free to submit them at any point--but, we'll get to all of that in a moment!

my name is lavinia, and i am a uni student studying both theatre (dramaturgy specifically) and creative writing! i love to sing, act, write (obviously haha), read (i am a huge fan of classic literature, as well as donna tartt, mona awad, sally rooney, elif bautman, and ottessa moshfegh's works), go to concerts, go to the movies, style/design clothing, paint, collect records/cds, and so much more! this barely scratches the surface really but, if any of you share these interests, always feel free to reach out!

anyhow, as i said, i will officially be opening requests, and at the moment here is the media and the characters i will write for:

Our Flag Means Death

Izzy Hands (my BELOVED)

Ed Teach

Stede Bonnet

Lucius Spriggs

Jim Jimenez

Oluwande

Mary Bonnet

(more available upon request! these were just sort of my first instincts.)

Gilmore Girls

honestly, i'm pretty open to anything unless it's dean. just request and i'll see what i can do!

Gossip Girl

Blair Waldorf

Serena Van der Woodsen

Dan Humphrey

Nate Archibald

Chuck Bass (like sometimes)

Rufus Humphrey

more available upon request.

The Fosters/The Good Trouble

Callie Adams Foster

Mariana Adams Foster

Brandon Foster

Jamie Hunter

Gael Martinez

Dennis Cooper

Malika Williams

more available upon request.

Select Wes Anderson and Tim Burton characters. just ask!

Enola Holmes

Enola Holmes

Tewkesbury

Sherlock Holmes

Little Women (2019)

Jo March

Amy March

Beth March

Meg March

Laurie

Friedrich Bhaer

Star Wars

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Anakin Skywalker

Padmé Amidala

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Leia Organa

Kylo Ren

Finn

Poe Dameron

Ahsoka Tano

more available upon request!

Pride & Prejudice (2005)

Basically me just saying I'll write Mr. Darcy. but more characters available upon request, of course.

Community

Abed Nadir

Troy Barnes

Annie Edison

Jeff and Britta I'm a little iffy on but with the right request, maybe. don't hesitate to ask!

The OC

Seth Cohen

Ryan Atwood

Summer Roberts

Marissa Cooper

The Umbrella Academy

Klaus

Viktor

Ben

Five

Diego

Allison

Luther is like, not preferred for me but if you feel strongly about him and have a good request, i’ll consider it but don’t get your hopes up too high!

Once Upon a Time

Emma Swan

Regina Mills

Killian Jones

Neal Cassidy

August Booth

Jefferson (The Mad Hatter)

Mulan

Ruby Lucas (Red Riding Hood)

Belle French

Mary Margaret Blanchard (Snow White)

David Nolan (Prince Charming)

Peter Pan

Robin Hood

Any others, feel free to ask! I know I left Mr. Gold (Rumple) off, but that's only because it depends with each request. Also, please specify if you want it to take place in Storybrooke pre or post curse, or in The Enchanted Forest.

Merlin

Merlin

Arthur

Gwen

Morgana

Nimueh

Lancelot

any others, feel free to ask. i am just starting S2, keep that in mind.

The Holdovers

Angus Tully

Dead Poets Society

Todd Anderson

Neil Perry

Knox Overstreet

Charlie Dalton

Steven Meeks

Love Lies Bleeding

Lou Langston

Jackie Cleaver

i'll just start there for now, as honestly it's been a bit since i've written an x reader and i don't want to overwhelm myself much! but please, feel free to request at any time! I will update this frequently, as I am always either getting into new things or remembering things I already love. I am mostly dedicated to OFMD right now, but you may also leave requests for other fandoms and I will keep them on file, or who knows, perhaps even get to them sooner than you may imagine! Have a wonderful day (or night!), and don't forget to request!

yours truly,

lavinia

me filing through all of your requests (hopefully!)

[thelensofyashunews]

Cincinnati's Skylar Blatt is the Midwest's Next Hip-Hop Princess

Cincinnati is a blue collar town, known as the home of the Bengals, the Reds, Skyline Chili, and Procter & Gamble. But despite a bustling scene, the Queen City isn't really known for its hip-hop. Enter rising rapper Skylar Blatt, who has the talent and charisma to put her city on the rap map. Her crushing bars and knack for easy melody has earned her co-signs from some of the biggest artists in the game, and with ILWT/Saint Ka$h/Arista Records at her back, the sky is the limit.

Raised by a single mother as one of six kids, Skylar learned early lessons about the high stakes of life on the Cincinnati streets. When her mom lost her job, she moved in with her Grandma–who Skylar describes as a "gangsta"–who taught her how to survive on her own. She found a safe harbor in hip-hop, escaping her troubles by listening to rappers from all regions–she learned free associative rhyming from Lil Wayne, picked up feminine fury from Nicki Minaj, took notes on the creative use of melody by artists like Young Thug and Future, and implemented plenty of the tough-talking bravado she learned from NY rappers like 50 Cent, Juelz Santana and Jadakiss.

With 10,000 hours of hip-hop study in the bank and a style that she knew stood out from others in her city, she started to embark on her own hip-hop dreams. At first, she uploaded freestyles to her personal Facebook and Instagram pages, and when those gained traction, she started writing her own songs.

After gaining an early co-sign from Meek Mill, and a glowing profile from Lyrical Lemonade, the young rapper started collaborating with many of the Midwest's finest rappers, connecting with Babyface Ray and fellow Cincinnati rapper Midwest Milly for "Exactly," racking up over 800k YT views, and teaming with Icewear Vezzo for the sinister "God Forbid." A lifelong Bengals fan, she teamed with fellow Ohioan Doe Boy to craft "BENGALS (SUPER BOWL)," an anthem meant to cheer on Joe Burrow and company as they played in Super Bowl LVI. In October 2023, Skylar shared her mixtape Blatt SZN, home to "God Forbid" and ten other Cincy slappers. The tape won her a fan in Lola Brooke, who hopped on a remix to her song "F*ck Fame."

Skylar is currently riding a wave of momentum from her new single “Laughin To Tha Bank,” a hard-hitting anthem that is already beginning to impact local radio in Cincinnati. Produced by Too Dope and Akachi, “Laughin To Tha Bank” is a perfect exemplar of what makes Skylar a special talent: rhyming through a sly grin, Skylar crafts an addictive cadence, alternating rich life flexes with intimidating tough talk with effortless ease: "See I'm the type who took her on a date/Just so she can show me where she stay if you ever at her place," rhymes Skylar.

Now, as the inaugural signee to Saint Ka$h Records, the record label founded by Kendell "Sav" Freeman, Skylar is looking to become the next Midwest rapper to break things open. With more music and, "Wake Up," a major collaboration with Chris Brown coming this Friday, April 26th, the Queen City queen is ready to defy the odds. Watch this space.

Follow Skylar Blatt on socials: instagram | spotify | youtube | twitter | tiktok

Pre-save "Wake Up" ft Chris Brown: http://skylarblatt.lnk.to/WakeUpPreSave

[nsfwhiphop]

DJ N.S.F.W. Playlist - Meek Mill - What's Free feat. Rick Ross & Jay Z (Official Audio) (this song is dope)

[cyarskj52]

A Reminder for Drake and Others: Tory Lanez Is Not a Martyr

It’s disappointing, but not surprising, to see Drake advocate for Tory Lanez after being convicted of shooting Megan Thee Stallion

By Andre GeeFebruary 27, 2024

It’s disappointing, but not surprising, to see Drake advocate for Tory Lanez after being convicted of shooting Megan Thee Stallion

Drake compels the masses like a seasoned advertising director. He knows sharing something as simple as a new hairdo will strangle social media for days on end. So when he called for Tory Lanez’s freedom on his Instagram story, he knew it would garner similar visibility as activists screaming “Free Meek Mill” from the streets of Philadelphia. On Monday, Drake posted a picture of Tory and “3 You,” a version of “Free You” where the three were set to represent open handcuffs. 

“Free [Insert Person”] is standard cultural parlance in communities of color. “Free Meek” was a stand against the Philly rapper’s prolonged probation. “Free Mumia [Abu-Jamal]” is about amplifying a freedom fighter who people believe was unjustly convicted. Other times, like with “Free Bobby Shmurda,” it can be a complicated admission that even if we know someone did wrong, we understand that systemic inequality can encourage bad choices from good people, essentially creating a long-looping form of entrapment. 

You may scream “free” someone as an advocate, loved one, or an empathizer. But screaming “Free Tory Lanez,” is an asshole move. 

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Last August, Tory was sentenced to 10 years in California State Prison for shooting Megan Thee Stallion in 2020. In December 2022, he was convicted of assault with a semi-automatic firearm, carrying a loaded, unregistered firearm in a vehicle, and discharging a firearm with gross negligence. 

He’s on a recorded call apologizing to Megan’s former friend Kelsey for an unknown grievance that many deduce to be Megan’s shooting. During testimony, Kelsey called the notion that she shot Megan “ridiculous.” A witness in the trial testified that he saw a “shorter man,” alleged to be Tory, firing “four to five” shots and then beating Megan as she lay bleeding in a fetal position. But despite the mountain of evidence suggesting his guilt, Drake, Chris Brown, Meek Mill, and others have since expressed solidarity with Tory. Are they saying they don’t believe Megan, or that they don’t care what happened to her?

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Since that night, people treated the shooting like a soap opera or binary of fandom instead of a traumatic incident that someone should atone for. On “Cobra,” Megan rapped about dealing with depression, alcohol dependency, and suicidal ideation since being shot. Her account of that night was scrutinized by armchair sleuths, and she was relentlessly lampooned by entertainers and consumers. Tory even took part in the circus, chopping a horse leg in his “CAP” video. As I noted before about Tina and Ike Turner, hip-hop has a penchant for playing too much, perhaps because many of its progenitors are so predisposed to toxic behavior and violence that we don’t know how to take domestic violence seriously. But that dynamic almost always turns into disrespecting women survivors, and it’s no excuse for how Megan is being treated.

Drake’s had several weird dustups with women in recent years. During a recent stop on his Big As The What tour, he made a point to play “Work” with Rihanna, then tell the crowd that he doesn’t perform the song anymore. That comes after dissing her and A$AP Rocky on For All The Dogs’ “Fear of Heights.” And, more alarmingly, he’s shouted out rapper and friend Baka Not Nice, who in 2015 pled guilty to assaulting a 22-year-old woman who he was charged with forcing into sex trafficking. The woman didn’t testify in the case, so he wasn’t tried on the latter charge. While Baka was incarcerated, Drake rhymed, “I might declare it a holiday as soon as Baka get back on the road,” on 2015’s “Know Yourself.” Would women be invited to that celebration? Perhaps Drake should head to his room full of bras and reflect on whether he genuinely cares about the humanity of any of the former owners. 

It’s unclear when he and Megan, who were pictured together in 2019, first fell out. In 2022, he rapped “this bitch lie ’bout getting shots, but she still a stallion” on Her Loss’ “Circo Loco.” Last summer, he made it a point to snidely clarify “not that Meg,” while shouting out photographer MegYup during his It’s All A Blurtour. And now, after Megan may have dissed him on “Hiss” (she intentionally refrained from naming names so hit dogs could holler) he’s advocated for her attacker. 

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Drake isn’t the first person to speak up for Tory post-sentencing, either. Chris Brown, who assaulted Rihanna and has been accused of over 20 instances of violence (many against women), called to “Free Tory” on streamer Adin Ross’ live stream, calling Tory “a solid dude.” His morally questionable comments are unsurprising. 

Last July, Meek Mill screamed “Free Tory” while performing at Rolling Loud Portugal. He later doubled down, tweeting, “I say free young thug … free lucci … free melly I don’t even know why y’all start dealing with us if yall gone try to smear us.’ Of course, there is a layer of nuance. Anti-prison abolitionists believe that the justice system is inherently racist and should be uprooted. But even those progressives didn’t feel much sorrow when Tory was convicted because of his conduct and arrogance throughout the leadup to the trial. Restorative justice advocates believe there can be a world where people who commit violence can take accountability, and apologize to the person they hurt, and everyone can heal without the need for incarceration. 

There is a belief that the modern justice system, which essentially requires a suspect to deny their guilt, doesn’t help a survivor heal, and the dehumanizing conditions of prison certainly aren’t a rehabilitative environment for violators. Some abolitionists may believe that Tory shouldn’t be incarcerated because prisons shouldn’t exist in the first place. That is a complicated discussion. But it’s also not likely that Drake, Brown, or Meek were saying “Free Tory” from an abolitionist lens — they were just trying to support the boys club. 

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Despite Tory’s conviction, the bowels of the gossip blogosphere, run by misogynistic podcasters and streamers, still cling to rumors of suppressed videos and secret witnesses and anything else that may appear out of fairy dust to legally absolve the Toronto artist and affirm their twisted belief that women are never to be trusted. It’s sad to think that so many of music’s biggest names enabling that cohort. 

Despite their increasingly blatant misogynoir, artists like Drake still boast devoted fanbases who will propel him to record-breaking streaming numbers and refer to him as their figurative “husband.” It’s more proof that advocacy for a convicted violator of a Black woman isn’t a cardinal sin. If anything, it’s the norm. How long will we let that be the case?

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Translation: if you love your man so much, schedule for sex in prison Aubrey Graham.

or better yet just go to hell and take your bald head biiich with you.

[deadthehype]

Songs that DJ’s should not play at parties anymore (or at least take a long break from playing them)

This is off the top of my head, so I’m going to update this list as time goes on. Feel free to add on.

• Meek Mill - Dreams & Nightmares (Intro)

• Chief Keef - Faneto

• F.L.Y. - Swag Surfin’

•French Montana - Pop That (unless it’s the Jersey Club remix)

• DJ Khaled - All I Do Is Win

• Afro B - Drogba (Joanna)

• Davido - Fall

• Burna Boy - Last Last

• Soul For Real - Candy Rain

• Mary J. Blige - Real Love

• Tevin Campbell - Can We Talk

• Bobby Shmurda - Hot Nigga

• Rowdy Rebel - Computers

• City Girls - Act Up

• A$AP Ferg - Work

• Lil Baby - We Paid

[musicaddictt]

Thanks for the tag @melodymuse24 😊

Rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist, share the first 10 songs & tag 10 people

I'm too lazy to tag 10 people but if anyone wants to do it feel free to!

[freshthoughts2020]

DON'T GET GREEDY AND WAX FOR NO REASON

DON'T GET GREEDY AND WAX FOR NO REASON

August 21, 2023

I.EVERYDAY I’M HUSTLING

In these survival days, hustling is all that really matters, and people hustles varies from person to person. No matter what hustle it is, don’t get greedy and start being super tax man, this is mostly in reference when dealing with celebrities.

You may have saw the video where Meek Mill is attempting to purchase the Nike SB x Air Jordan IVs (man those are some beauties) and the guy on the video wants to charge Meek the tax price. Meek urges that he can get the sneakers at retail from the store, so why would he pay him the tax price plus if he would’ve showed love, Meek would’ve been incentivized to shop even more with the young bull.

First, Meek is capping, you can’t get those sneakers at retail, maybe a lower price than what buddy was selling them for but they will be above retail, too much hype around them. These days everything work off hype. If you don’t get them at release you ain’t getting them without paying the resale ticket, unless the shoe sat on the shelf, you might get an under retail price.

Secondly, his point still stands and he’s absolutely correct in theory. Taking off shoe guy and putting it on general hustlers for a minute. When you are selling a product and its fire and consistent, eventually you will catch the eye of a celebrity, maybe multiple.

II.SHOW YOU HOW TO DO THIS SON!

I can attest to this personally multiple times, I’ll just use one example for now. Some years ago I drew a pic of YG and Kamaiyah. YG dm’d me about purchasing it you know of course I was excited. This was in early corner days too, so I first started getting celebrity attention/recognition. Before I could respond you know I told some of my people.

You know what they said instantly after I told them the news. “You need to charge him a band”, “Oh yeah he gotta at least drop 4Hunnid on the pic”, and other nonsense.

No disrespect to the people that told me this but this is why people can’t scale up because they wanna do stupid stuff like that and tax for no reason.

III.CAN’T TEACH NO ONE HOW TO HUSTLE..

Just because someone’s a celebrity do not mean you charge unwarranted high prices, it instantly throws smut on your name and can close doors that you ain’t even noticed that was opened. Let me explain why I didn’t tax YG in the first place.

1) the picture was only 8” x 10”, 2) that is a small picture , and 3) it was a sketch without much detail. It was colored and great in my style but my pricing is always on what I would pay for it. Also, the bigger the size the more it is reasonable to charge high prices.

I wouldn’t pay over a few hundred for a small picture unless it was by an artist whose work was unattainable, if it was to personally support an artist I know, or if it is extremely detailed but the canvas chosen is just small.

This particular picture did not fit my laid in criteria, if any normal person wanted that same picture I wouldn’t have charged them more than $50 at that time. Now he never followed through on the purchase but imagined if I would’ve came at him saying give me a rack for this. If he’s smart with his money, he would’ve instantly been off put and possibly stopped any other doors that could’ve been opened.

When it comes to celebrities you have to think more than the money, they carry an audience. Why do you think they get so many free items in the first place? They are walking billboards plus they can actually employ if you’re actually dope enough.

That YG interaction I had could’ve went a thousand ways, now it didn’t go anywhere but I definitely wouldn’t had helped if I came out the gate thinking “get as much money as I can out of him.” That’s short sighted, fast-money, flip everything thinking. You may get a payday but you lose out on the long term. I couldn’t play myself like that in life I think in long term for everything!! Its how I maintained the patience and faith to become a lawyer and run this website because there are extreme peaks and valleys!

So if you got a hustle going on learn from that vid with Meek and this article. Think about the bigger opportunity, think about what is attached to a person with clout, how doors can be opened if you treat this rare interaction the way its supposed to go. Don’t lose out your blessings beloved, Get money..

visit gettothecorner.com

follow me on Twitter (X) twitter.com/onlyonejaevonn

[sumpix]

She was being accused, she says, of having ‘desecrated the prevailing orthodoxy’. ‘It was like being accused of blasphemy in a religion that is not yours.’

The unconscionable barbarism of cancel culture

spiked-online.com November 30, 2022

View Original

There are so many good things in Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s Reith lecture on freedom of speech. She shatters the case for cancel culture. She lays waste to the patrician left’s claim that free speech serves the powerful but harms the powerless. She issues a stirring call for a new solidarity of liberty-lovers against the ‘unconscionable barbarism’ of punishing people for what they think and say. But the best thing, the thing that makes the breath catch in your throat as you listen, is just how unrepentant her love of freedom is. This is no meek, apologetic plea for a few more rights to say what we think. No, she’s passionate about this liberty, and it is rare indeed to hear that today. It is a truly infectious and inspiring call to arms.

This year’s BBC Reith lectures are titled ‘The Four Freedoms’. The first, Adichie’s, is on the freedom to speak. Her diagnosis of the crisis of free expression is peerless. She says the problem we face in the West right now is not the jackboot of government tyranny pressed on the throat of free debate. It’s social conformism. It’s the overbearing pressure to adhere to ‘the collectively sanctioned attitudes and behaviours of this era’. ‘The biggest threat to speech today is not legal or political, but social’, she says. She recognises this is ‘not a new idea’: ‘When John Stuart Mill warned against “the tyranny of prevailing opinion and feeling”, it reads as though he foresaw the threat that orthodoxy poses today.’ But the ‘present manifestation’ of this ‘social censure’ is, she says, especially severe. It desires nothing less than the permanent banishment from society – that is, the cancellation – of anyone caught deviating from sanctioned thought.

Adichie describes brilliantly the horrors of cancel culture. Against those who apologise for this new species of social tyranny, who say it’s just about holding people to account for what they say, Adichie brings a stirring clarity. ‘There is a difference between valid criticism, which should be part of free expression, and this kind of backlash – ugly personal insults, putting addresses of homes and children’s schools online, trying to make people lose their jobs. To anyone who thinks, “Well, some people who have said terrible things deserve it”, no – nobody deserves it. It is unconscionable barbarism. It is a virtual vigilante action whose aim is not just to silence the person who has spoken, but to create a vengeful atmosphere that deters others from speaking.’

This is one of the finest elucidations on cancel culture I have heard. Adichie recognises what so many others fail to: that cancel culture’s grimmest achievement is not to claim the scalps of a handful of controversial individuals, but rather to send a message to everyone else that they had better shut their mouths if they don’t want to suffer the same fate. The result? An ‘epidemic of self-censorship’, she says. She fears the grip social censure has on the young in particular: ‘Many young people are growing up in this cauldron, afraid to ask questions for fear of asking the wrong questions.’ ‘And so’, she says, ‘they practise an exquisite kind of self-censorship. Even if they believe something to be true or important, they do not say so, because they should not say so.’

Adichie herself has encountered this ‘fierce’ expectation of conformity to sanctioned thought, this ‘vicious retaliation’ that follows every murmur of dissent. She describes being accosted by an American student at a book reading who asked her, ‘angrily’, why she had said something in an interview. Adichie doesn’t say what this something was, but we can guess: she has infuriated the social-censure set by refusing to genuflect to the mantra ‘trans women are women’ and instead uttering the blasphemy: ‘trans women are trans women’. Adichie tells her accoster that she said the thing because it ‘was the truth’. Her accoster agrees it was true but asks: ‘Why should we say it even if it’s true?’ Adichie was astonished. To her, the idea of not giving voice even to truth, lest it cause offence, is utterly alien. She was being accused, she says, of having ‘desecrated the prevailing orthodoxy’. ‘It was like being accused of blasphemy in a religion that is not yours.’

Who hasn’t felt exactly like that at some point over the past decade? Like a blasphemer against a new religiosity one doesn’t even subscribe to? It is cancel culture’s refusal to admit to its authoritarianism that most irritates Adichie. ‘There is something honest about an authoritarianism that recognises itself to be what it is. Such a system is easier to challenge because the battle lines are clear’, she says. ‘But this new social censure demands consensus while being wilfully blind to its own tyranny.’ We see this wilful blindness of the cancellers every day. We’re just calling you out, they say. We’re just protecting minority groups from offence, they cry. The denialism of the censors is extraordinary. Adichie doesn’t mince her words as to what impact this denied tyranny is having – ‘I think it portends the death of curiosity, the death of learning, and the death of creativity’.

Creativity is, of course, central to Adichie’s life as a novelist. And creativity demands full, unwavering freedom, she says. It cannot live without it. ‘To create, one needs a kind of formless roving of the mind to go nowhere and anywhere and everywhere’, she says. ‘It is from that swell that art emerges.’ This is why she is so worried about the targeting even of literature by today’s tyranny-in-denial. ‘Literature is in peril because of social censure’, she says. She cites the phenomenon of the ‘sensitivity reader’, the person whose job it is to ‘cleanse unpublished manuscripts of potentially offensive words’, employed by publishers that are ‘wary of committing secular blasphemy’. Such pre-emptive, censorious sensitivity ‘negates the very idea of literature’, she says. Expelling darkness or coarseness or offence from literature expels the humanity from it, too. If things don’t change, and soon, Adichie worries that future generations will read the books being published now and wonder: ‘How did they manage to stop being human? How were they so lacking in contradiction and complexity? How did they banish all their shadows?’

The most moving part of the lecture is when she speaks of the attack on Salman Rushdie in New York in August. It is the only moment her voice seems to quiver. She says: ‘Imagine the brutal, barbaric intimacy of a stranger standing inches from you and forcefully plunging a knife into your face and your neck multiple times because you wrote a book.’ It is superbly and necessarily confronting. She says she re-read Rushdie’s novels after the attack, in an act of ‘defiant support’, and found herself wondering how The Satanic Verses would fare today with all our sensitivity reading and cancellation. ‘Would Rushdie’s novel be published today?’, she wonders. ‘Probably not. Would it even be written? Possibly not.’ This is the harsh truth of our times: we no longer need a death warrant from an Iranian tyrant to silence ‘difficult’ writers; we do it ourselves.

Adichie’s belief in free expression extends even to defending the right of people to say untrue and malicious things. She says she wouldn’t even agree to the censorship of such foul ideas as Holocaust denial or hatred for homosexuals. ‘[The] solution is not to hide the lie’, she says, ‘but to expose it and scrub from it its false glow’. When we censor the ‘purveyors of bad ideas, we risk making them martyrs’, she says, ‘and the battle with a martyr can never be won’. As to the fashionable notion that free speech is of more benefit to powerful people than marginalised people, Adichie says ‘free speech is indeed a tool of the powerful, but it is also, crucially, the language of the powerless’. She cites the current Iranian revolt, the Arab Spring and other uprisings – ‘all wielded speech’. Then her killer line, one I hope will ring in the ears of all of those so saturated in media-studies thinking that they have lost sight of the tight bond that has always existed between free speech and the fight for equality: ‘Dissent is impossible without the freedom of speech.’

It can be difficult to challenge the epidemic of self-censorship. Precisely because today’s virtual vigilantes are so wilfully blind to their oppressive impact on society, it is hard to know how to confront them, push them back, defend freedom from their cold clutch. Adichie has an idea. It’s a brilliantly simple one. ‘The solution to this threat’, she says, ‘can only be collective action’. Social censure creates a ‘climate of fear’, she says, and it is ‘only human to fear a mob’. ‘But I would fear less’, she says, ‘if I knew my neighbour would not stay silent were I to be pilloried’. ‘We fear the mob, but the mob is us.’

That’s it: we break social censure with social solidarity, one founded in a love for freedom. ‘Moral courage’ is what we need right now, says Adichie – the moral courage to say what we believe and to refuse to participate in the punishment of those who deviate from sanctioned thought. This is the only way we can ‘make much wider the boundaries of what can be said’. My own moral courage has already been strengthened thanks to Adichie’s lecture. Everyone should listen to this clear and beautiful case for the right of every person to think and speak completely freely.

[daletrafra]

Voir les paroles de la chanson “What's Free” de Meek Mill

[libidomechanica]

“Its praises death, her out all the Mill turne to”

The sea;—what boots, chaste rejects my selfe ye most meek and God-filled once been on our love to show, no tongue of shut Eyes a moments of Sicily all silently way, by Force opposing six knots an heir. Shall Grass in t: and this booth I want you mayst attuned hast, nor Mars in your play, and mountain- top—the sun, when, after free from the then, unnumber. Its praises death, her out all the Mill turne to mi, say I doe, I can love you.