#im gonna have way too many charms on my fuckin work bag after this but oh well lmao
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headcanon: “what your first kiss with the SVU boys looks like”
these got a little... out of hand. hence the “read more.” i guess it’s just my way of saying happy thanksgiving.
gender neutral reader. created in conjunction with @hurricanejjareau.
rafael barba -
it’s a couple of dates in, and you’re on cloud nine. being with rafael barba is as easy as breathing.
after all, the tension has come and gone, at this point. you’ve seen the uptight rafael barba, the one that pushes and pushes the squad to do more, do better, do what he needs. you’ve seen the crazy rafael barba, the one that takes a belt and loops it around his neck because he knows he’ll get the win. you’ve seen the distraught rafael barba, the one that squeezes the back of squadroom chairs because the pieces just don’t line up.
but so has everyone else. so has amanda, and liv, and nick, and fin. they know that rafael barba. that rafael barba is a little snide, a little sharp around the edges. everyone gets the wit, the charm, the little smiles.
but little does the squad know that this rafael barba... is all for you.
no one else gets this. no one else gets the rafael barba with an open button-down collar and blazer. no one else gets the dinner and a walk to pass the time. no one else gets the little smiles across the table, the gentle feeling of his hand in yours, or the tug as he loops your elbows together and settles on a destination that you’ll find together.
no one else gets that grin - the way it softens his face, makes his eyes a little half-lidded.
it’s safe to say you’re falling for him. and safe to say that by the time the second date is over, you think he’s falling for you, too.
you’re close enough to your place that a few stories and rounds of laughter has you walking up the steps, rummaging around for keys that are invariably at the bottom of your bag. you keep glancing up, which kind of hurts the hunt, but you don’t mind because each time you see him. that little smirk, the settle of his body against your doorframe. you almost wish he had a tie, so you could press your fingers against, smooth it down his front. just an excuse to touch him a little more.
“same time next week?” he asks, and it’s as easy as breathing, as smiling, as laughing with rafael barba to give an answer.
“i wouldn’t mind sooner,” you say, and when that brings out his smirk you can’t help your little laugh. “if we both can swing it, of course.”
“of course,” rafael says, and he’s pushing himself upright, leaning forward, and kissing you. the only hint was a glance to your lips, and you’re taking it, hand on his shoulder, curling a little around his neck...
oh.
oh, he’s kissing you.
it’s just as easy. it’s just as simple, it’s just as perfect. it’s like breathing, the way it comes out, and when he pulls back he looks just as shocked as you. blinks, like he wasn’t expecting to end the night on such a note.
“was - was that all right?” he asks. you can see his mind start to race.
you’re sure to quiet it with a grin. a nod. a “yes, that was perfect.”
and if he lets you, you’ll add another kiss.
sonny carisi -
where are you?
it’s the text you send for the third time, your foot tapping eagerly in the gallery. the jury’s back, after all. the jury’s finally fucking back, and sonny should be here. it’s your case, after all, weeks of work all for this.
barba turns around, raises a brow at you. asking the same question you are. but there’s no response, and you eventually sigh, shrugging your shoulders.
barba nods. turns back to judge barth, who settles into her seat. who looks to the two counselors, who both let her know.
they’re ready.
your phone hasn’t buzzed. and it doesn’t. not as you squirm, williams staring at you from his seat at the defense bench like you’re a meal.
but that smirk is gone once he turns to the judge. that smirk is gone as he stands, lifts himself up to face them. it’s gone as judge barth turns to the jury and smiles, genial, polite.
“has the jury reached a verdict?”
“we have, your honor.”
“proceed.”
the forewoman lifts the paper to her face. slides her glasses on, clears her throat. your hand is gripping the pew in front of you, and your knuckles are white.
“on the first, second, and third charges of rape in the first degree, we find the defendant, luke j. williams, guilty.”
your heart leaps. you see the way his face falls, even from the side, and the relief that fills you is almost crushing. you want to collapse, with the exhaustion, with the exhilaration. and then your phone buzzes.
im coming up the steps right now i swear to god
and you can’t stop yourself. you’re pushing past liv and amanda, pushing out the courtroom doors. your grin is unmatched as you sprint through the halls, shoes pounding against the marbled floors.
the outside is a downpour. you barely notice. you’re searching, hunting, and when you see him it’s because you can see the shine of his hair from rain, the gel.
god, sonny carisi.
he sees you next, like he was searching, hoping, praying you were there. and when you push into the downpour, out from under the overhang, the rain is but the background as you slam into his open arms.
“we did it?” he asks, over the sound of water against the streets, the slide of taxis through puddles. “we actually fuckin’ did it?” the exhaustion for you is eyes half-closed as he pulls you against his chest, while for him his words blend together in a mix of Staten Island and too little sleep.
“we did it,” you gasp out, and when you pull back it’s to place a hand on either side of his face. “we did it.”
and you kiss him.
you kiss him.
oh, god, he kisses you back.
nick amaro -
how fucking dare he. nick fucking amaro.
your hands clench into fists at your sides, the sides that ache after the hits you took just an hour earlier. your partner is glaring at you, eyes alight with frustration, and you can’t help the way your jaw clenches.
fucking gorgeous nick amaro.
if you had a choice you wouldn’t be in love with him. because nick amaro himself would tell you not to be. but you can’t help the way you stumble into caring for him, into feeling for him, into truly desperately wanting him.
“what the hell was that?” was the first thing he’d asked you, and you hadn’t had an answer for him. not one that’d make sense. after all, partners are supposed to protect each other, but it’s that desperation that had thrown you into him to take the hit, to get the bullet in your vest.
“i saved your life, and this is how you thank me?” you’d shot back. “you gonna give me a lecture in front of the whole damn squad room?”
and cragen had agreed. told you to sort it out, and so nick had rolled his shoulders, gritted his teeth, and the two of you had moved to the locker room to have it out.
and now you’re standing in front of him, watching him go at you for doing something so incredibly stupid —
“stop being a damn martyr, nick!” you snap. “say thank you and we can just move on!”
“i don’t want you getting hurt for me! i don’t deserve that, don’t you get it? you don’t deserve that!”
“i think i’ll be the fucking judge of what i do or don’t deserve! i think i’ll be the one who makes the call about which stubborn stupid detective i get a bruise for!”
“so you’re gonna get yourself killed? for nothing?” his nostrils are flaring, and he lifts a hand to run it through his hair, to turn away and then back to you, close, nose to fucking nose. “for me? no, i won’t let you.”
“i can handle it,” you mutter. he’s close enough you don’t have to yell, close enough that it makes your voice a little weak.
“you almost didn’t,” he pushes, and this time your hand reaches out to poke him in the chest. your fingertip digs into his skin a little, right above his heart.
“but i did. and i’d do it again. however many times it takes, i’d do it again.”
“how many times it takes to do what?”
there’s a beat. he looks at you and maybe, just maybe, he sees you. sees you. “what?” he asks, and you swallow.
when your eyes meet his, they’re shining, just a little. “you know damn well what, nick. you fucking know—“
it’s a collision, your lips. it’s nothing dainty, it’s barely even breathing. it’s an unstoppable force against another force of his own, and when your hands lift to his hair it’s to grip and never let go.
mike dodds -
he’s your sergeant, you tell yourself. you remind yourself, you almost have to. he’s your superior, he gives you orders, he can’t be the one you want to...
anyway.
so you move on. you try to. you try to ignore the way he smiles at you, the way that he grins when the case goes well. the furrow of his brow, the slightest purse of his lips when he’s frustrated. he came to the squad a stranger, someone you can’t trust, and he’s here now like a friend. sergeant michael dodds. the son of william dodds was supposed to come and be the voice of reason, after all, a way to keep an eye on the manhattan special victims unit. but you just know him as mike.
as “mike, stop hogging all the creamer.” as “mike, i swear to god you better not lose my favorite pen.” as “mike, we’ll get him, we’ll get him.”
and you can’t ignore it, not really. not when looks get purposeful across the room, not when you find the two of you leaning into each other. touching, brushing, smiling, watching, waiting.
and you care about him. you really fucking do.
it’s a win that gets you in the end. emotions are high, and the day ends on a high note, too. you’re packing up, and mike sees you. reaches out to you, gestures to the elevator as his duffel goes over his shoulder.
“can i walk you out, detective?” he’s smiling. you smile, too. it’s easy, being with mike, and you can’t help but laugh a little at the formality. your laugh makes his smile a grin, and he shrugs. “finishing out the work day.”
“sure, sarge. i wouldn’t mind the company.”
it’s snowing, but the walk is... easy. it’s bundled up, and the two of you end up leaning against each other. shoulder to shoulder, his head leaned toward you as your laughter echoes down the sidewalk. walking out becomes walking home, and there’s nothing that either of you want to stop.
it’s snowing. snow in mike’s hair. in mike’s eyelashes. on the curve of his cheekbones. and you don’t even notice the two of you have stopped walking until his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow.
“i don’t want this walk to end,” he admits, and you look up at him with a blink. “i don’t want time with you to ever end.”
your laugh is shocked out of you. because home is still so far, and honestly, you don’t want to ever make it.
“so do something about it, mike.”
he has to bend down, and you’re pushing up. it’s sudden, but not quite a surprise. it’s a kiss with the streetlights on you, with the warmth of his breath on your nose after. and when he grins this time, you’re matching it.
peter stone -
amanda is a meddler. sonny carisi is a meddler. odafin tutuola and olivia benson are all meddlers, and you can’t believe them.
or, actually, you can. which is so much worse.
adjusting to peter stone was, in fact, an adjustment. in more ways than one. warming up to him took time, took a lot of moments where you think about the fact that he could be a lot worse.
and what makes it even more difficult is you want to hate him. you want it to be easy to ignore him. to not think about him. but you can’t. you can’t, not when he looks like that.
and amanda picks up on it, dammit. she sees the way you can barely look him in the eye, and sends you to his office anyway. and she lets you invite him out to forlini’s, and she lets you sit across from him at the table, and she nudges your leg as the two of you end up talking all night.
“you’re an enabler,” you sigh at her, when peter leaves, citing a work obligation in the morning. and she just smiles, tipping back her glass.
so you don’t know what you can really expect from the lot of them. not.. something like this. not texting you to meet them at forlini’s and then ditching the both of you. you and peter, standing at the door, looking in and seeing nary a squad member in sight.
“looks like we’ve been duped,” peter says, and you turn to look at him with a weary gaze. it says something that he can grin right now, can look at you and twist his lips up in that signature way of his. all-knowing, all-teasing. and that smirk settles in your gut, makes your own peek out.
“leave it to amanda, i suppose,” you reply. “and i was really looking forward to a drink.”
you peek back in. and then you hear peter’s voice behind you, his phone up to his ear.
“yeah, you guys got a table for two?”
he’s a smooth-talker, that’s for sure. especially when it’s just the two of you across an appetizer, the two of you with glasses of wine too big for your bank account. he makes you laugh, snort a little, and you manage to finagle a blush onto those cheeks of his. when the night is over, the two of you end up walking and talking, prolonging the evening until it can barely be called evening anymore.
it’s a park that does it. the two of you stepping over crunching leaves that makes you stop, stare.
“was this a date, peter stone?”
and his smile is sly when he stops himself, turns to you and bites his lower lip.
“might’ve been. is that okay?”
you think back on the evening. on the way that he’s looking at you right now. the way he has been all night.
“yeah, i’d say so.”
with a step towards you he grins. reaches for your hand and takes it. “how about this?”
“that’s all right, too.”
and when his other hand comes up to cup your cheek, the way the night is going is more than okay with you.
“and this?” he asks one final time, and your breath of a yes is against his lips, pulling him close so your grin presses into the way he kisses you.
-
tag list (people who might like this):
@averyhotchner // @crazyshannonigans // @joanofarkansass
#rafael barba x reader#sonny carisi x reader#nick amaro x reader#mike dodds x reader#peter stone x reader#rafael barba#sonny carisi#nick amaro#mike dodds#peter stone#gender neutral reader#my fic#law and order: svu#law and order svu headcanons
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PLAY SMART
Che “Taza” Romero x Reader
Word count: 3.1k
Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘
Author comments: Another crazy idea. I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.
Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @arveeee ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)
Adjusting the green shirt to your chest, you go out of the clubhouse followed by Creeper drinking a coffee on a cardboard cup. You’re walking faster with your gaze on the front, directly to the car scrapping. It supposed that you should start in one hour, but if you arrive earlier, you can also leave earlier. You don’t want to see Taza after what happened last day, when his ex-wife came to the workshop because her car was having problems with the engine. She talked you as if you were a servant, or something like that, so you couldn't shut up and spoke to her in a sarcastic tone that she didn't like. Of course, she told Taza. At first, you didn’t care, until you saw how they said goodbye, with so much love and affection. Gilly told you that they have been married for almost fifteen years and that she was back to town indefinitely. It was like a shoot straight to your heart.
You aren’t nothing, but for the last months there has been a flirt environment installed between both, always pulling and loosening. But with his ex-wife in Santo Padre and by the way she had of touching him constantly, you know that what you wanted so bad it’s not going to happen. So you’re trying to not match with him. And that hurts. The only thing you can do it’s work and go home. No Mayans parties, no more nights at the clubhouse and no more rides back home on Taza’s bike. You can’t fight with a woman who knows him since ever and who was married with him for too many years. You didn’t know that something like that could happen, he didn’t talk you about her and it seems like it was a surprise for him too.
“Dammit, mama, you look like shet’”. Angel’s confused voice pushes you back to reality, making you shake your head for an instant.
“I didn’t sleep last night”. You shrug your shoulders and arms.
Messed bump, eye bags, no makeup and the shoelaces untied. You sigh after having a look of yourself, leaning down to tie them. The sun seems to disappear, raising your gaze surprised till you find your boss’ eyes, crossing his arms over his chest covered by leather. You swallow quietly, licking your inner lip before continuing with your task.
“Everything ok?” You ask playing fool, hiding your nervous voice for a while.
“I don’ know, everything ok?”
“Yea’, I just… start earlier ‘cause I need to go to Santa Madre”.
“Sure. Why you didn’t come to the ranch last night?”
“Last night? What hap— Oh! Oh!”
Taza raises both eyebrows, while you still playing the innocent one palming your forehead.
“Shit, I forgot the Mayan dinner...” Clicking your tongue, you snort heavy.
“Let me tell you something, (Y/N)”. Facing you with hardly two inches between both, he leans above your ear provoking you some chills. “Soy un perro muy viejo, para que un cachorro me intente engañar”. (I'm a very old dog, and a puppy can't lie to me”.
“I forgot it”. You insist. “I was tired and I fell asleep on the sofa”.
“Look at your face”. The man says without changing his position. “Not everything is what it seems”.
“Ok, boss. I get it”.
Taza doesn't say anything else, hitting his shoulder against yours to pass you away. Rubbing it you turn to the oldest rolling your eyes. Creeper and Angel are staring at you, trying to understand what is happening, but you don't wanna talk about it. Work and go home, that's all you want. The Reyes, putting an arm on your shoulders, shake his head disappointed 'cause he's starting to know what's going on having all the clues on the table.
Going upstairs to the office, you hug Chuckie as soon as you see him, asking for the hours signature quadrant. Your turn is already finished and completed and you also have the afternoon free, so you could rest the time you didn't last night thinking about the things that it's not going to happen, driving you crazy. Leaving the car scrapping' shirt in your hanger, you grab the helmet next to your bag, ready to leave.
And she's there again. You can see her from the top of the stairs, hugging your boss and kissing his cheek as you used to do it. You're going downstairs slow, concentrated on not looking like you're jealous. Yes, you two were nothing, but you feel some kind of things that you would like not to feel right now. Taking off your phone of the pocket, you dissemble when he catches you looking at them, walking towards your motorbike to put the helmet on.
“Wait a second”. You hear some meters away, while your sitting on your bike. “Eh, (Y/N)!”
You want to make that you didn't listen his call, but it would be too evident, so Taza waits for you to reversing and stop again.
“I'm sorry for the hit”.
“Yeah, it was rude”.
“Are you hurry?”
“Yeah, a little”.
“When will you back at home, ah?”
“I don't kn... Why it feels like I'm talking to my father?”
“Because you're so fuckin' annoyin'”.
“Great, thanks. Another bullshit, Taza?”
“You know what? Fuck off”.
“Yeah, pretty one”. Rolling your eyes, containing the tears in them, you turn the engine to run away from the front yard.
Bishop texted you about four pm to tell you that Yuma and Stockton charters were coming to Santo Padre by night, so they're having a party and he needs you along with EZ to attend the bar. That's precisely what you were avoiding to do, be at the clubhouse more time than necessary. But guessing that you should work just for two or three hours accompanied doesn't seems a big trouble to deal with. So you're in.
Driving you car, 'cause it's gonna be easy to come back home after the party, you reach the car scrapping parking there so your Camaro will be safe in case that anyone decided to start a friendly fight. They usually do, for no reason. Last time, your motorbike suffered the consequences, even if they took care of the fixed. Walking betwixt a lot of crap mountains, your steps go straight to the green main door with mayans symbols finding the crowded yard. Stockton are already there, mixed with the Santo Padre' ones. EZ whistles you, claiming for your attention with that charming smile he always have on his face. You greet the guys raising your chin for a second, whilst going close to the prospect.
“Take the Jose Cuervo in the warehouse, I'm on my way for beers”.
“Okay”. You nod then, turning to the right and guiding your legs to the huge metallic structure by a side of the clubhouse.
Grabbing the trolley at the entrance, you walk towards the end of the warehouse to leave it there, so you can place five boxes on it. Bishop calls to the door, even if it's opened asking you for come in without words. He walks in, closing it and resting his body against a shelving.
“You ok, kid?”
“Yea', just a bad night, prez”. You nod showing a soft and fleeting smile, presing the low rod of the trolley leaning to you and putting im by the two wheels.
“You didn' came to the dinner”.
“I'm sorry, I forgot it”.
“Did you?”
Leaving a sigh on air, you don't know what to say, pursing your lips as you place your gaze in nowhere.
“I saw you… kinda arguing with Taza this morning. Twice”.
“I—”.
“You know you can talk to me, rai'?” He sounds serious, crossing his arms.
“I just… made some illusions. The kind that fuck you down, when you realize that they're… just that. Illusions”.
“I know what you're talkin'bout. Play smart, kid. You're not stupid”.
Might be the best advice someone could give you, and you know you should. But sometimes, you can't simply do it. After leaving you there, you continue your walk to the clubhouse, going upstairs carefully with the tequila boxes. Opening the door with a push of your back, EZ notices you ready to help you. When everything is placed, the prospect offers you a shirt with the Mayans logo to change it for yours. Like somekind of uniform.
Once you're wearing it, you walk outside to receive the Yuma charter, hugging Canche as soon as he sees you.
“What's up, chamaca?”
“Not much, just another party working, not enjoying”.
“When you finish, make a place fo' me in your busy schedule. I need some help with my bike”. He says placing a hand on your shoulders, so you can follow him to his men to greet them too.
“Sure! I'll let you know when I'm done”.
A car coming calls your attention, turning under Canche's grip, to find the owner.
“What the hell…? Isn't that Taza's ex-wife?”
“Yep”.
“What she doin'ere?” The president asks you confused.
“Don' know. Ask her ex-husband”. You answer with a singing voice and both eyebrows raised.
“That bitch fucked him up”.
“Did she…?”
“Yea', I heard something 'bout a one-night-stand with a Vato. Oscar told us”.
“But they seems so close”.
“Taza is a good man, you know him”.
“Yea'...”
Pursing your lips at the man, you shrugs before start with your tasks of serve beers and tequila shot for everyone there, with EZ help. You can't help but thinking about that woman who came from nowhere with some kind of clear intentions, and now you're understanding was what Bishop trying to tell you. “Play smart”. So you will. Grabbing the coldest beers and putting them on a tray, you carry them to the first picnic table outside, where the main members of your charter are sitting. Leaving there, one for each one, you sit close to the Padrino who puts an arm around your waist.
“You look good in that shirt, kid”. He says proud, having a look from top to down. Since you started to work there, he has been the most gentle man on earth with you and it's something to be thankful for. “How's your week goin'? Didn' see you last night”.
“Tired week, need to rest, padrino”.
“You look like. Are they treating you good, or taking advantage that you're so helpful, ah?”
“To be that ‘helpful’ you have to show some respect first”. You hear that irritating feminine voice behind your back, before she appears in front of your eyes with a hand on Taza's left shoulder.
“Take off that Vato's dick of your mouth, before talking about my kid”. Padrino's voice is calm and peaceful, surprising you about it, and creating an uncomfortable silence on the table.
You're fucking done. Done in a good mood, 'cause well, no one piss off padrino's kid. Palming his back, you get up of your seat to grab the tray and go back to work, as soon as Oscar claims your attention to ask for some beers. At least, now you know what happened, even if you're trying to figure what's she doing here. Not for you, but for Taza. Because she doesn't deserve someone like him, not after what she did. Double disloyalty. And that's screwing you more than you thought.
Even if it's something that it's in your head all the time, you make sure that doesn't influence in your work, letting it for later. And when you're already finished with it, leaving EZ with the rest, you go straight to Canche. As soon as you're done with him too, you can be close to Taza to make it up to him because of your paranoia. And so you do, sharing the same table with a beer in your hand. You don't know why his ex-wife continue there, but you don't care. Not anymore. Sitting in front of him, again by padrino's side and Bishop at the other, you try to get in the conversation. Easy task 'cause they're talking about a travel coming soon, and they need your help to check the motorcycles before leaving.
“Okay, I can do it tomorrow evening. Just leave me the keys at the office”. You say then supporting both forearms on the table, nodding for a while. “So, gas, oil and pressure… Yeah, it's fast to do'et”.
“Can you check my bike's direction? I think it's a little bit turned to the left”. Taza says then, and you know that's only a excuse to talk with you. Like, right now.
“Is it?” You hesitate, raising an eyebrow before having a sip of your drink, getting up of your bench.
“Yea', and the brake is a little hard. I think EZ squeezed too much”. He's getting up too, letting go the uncomfortable grip of his ex-wife.
“Okay, let's see”.
He walks next to you, offering you the keys so you can turn on his bike. Pressing softly the gas, to do the same with the brake. It's not. But seems like he wants to leave the yard, at least, for some minutes.
“I have the tools in my car”. You say then, turning of the engine to push the handlebar so you can make it moves.
Going down the alley, with the Vicepresidente behind your back smoking a cigar, you reach the Camaro. You don't have any tools on it, but you really want to hear what he wants to tell you. So you simply leave the motorbike parked, next to your car, and resting your body sitting on it giving him the keys.
“She asked me to stay at the ranch”. He says then, keeping them inside one of his pockets. Sounds like you should reply something, but you'll not. It's his house, not yours. “I don' know what she doin'ere. But I don' even care”.
“Good for you, Taza”. You shrug with pursed lips.
“Let's be clear, kid. We're nothing”.
“Okay, I'm done with this bullshit”. You laugh loud getting up from his bike, and shaking your hands, trying to hide the bitterness and looking for the control remote of your car.
“Listen, listen”. Catching you by your left wrist, he stops your moves.
“It's fuckin' okay, Taza. You don' have to give me any explanation. I'm not your... fuckin' wife, nor your fuckin' girl. I get it. But let me tell you something. It's fucking grievous seeing a woman how fucked you up with a fuckin' Vato, trying to get back what she lost. And you, let her doin'et. You deserve good things, and you should love and respect yourself a little more”.
“Well, than'ya' for your kindly words. But I'm not letting her doin' nothen'. And I also talk her 'bout you”.
“Seems like she doesn' give a f— You did what?” Narrowing your eyes and letting you go, you cross your arms on the chest.
“We're nothing, but I would like to be something”. He clarifies you. “I asked her to leave and just came to pay what we fixed in her car. She stayed for a beer”.
“Yes, close of his ex-husband”.
“Focus on the fact I wan'to be with you, and not with her. Think about'e”.
Taza leaves you there, alone, carrying his bike when seems like you don't know what to reply at this words. Sitting on the hood of your car and lighting a cigar between your lips, you have a long smoke that rips your throat and also your tongue. You're somewhat jealous, you can't help but trying to see the point of playing smart to mark somekind of territory without looking like he's a piece of meat. But with that kind of women, it's all you can do.
Putting well your shirt on, after throwing away the cigar, you walk towards the front yard with hands in your pockets. Some ideas are dancing in your head, trying to choose the best way to deal with it. But when you see her, sitting again by his side, and trying to hug him… Good lord, you can't help but losing your modals and your gentle mood.
“Che, take me home”. You just say, stopping in front of the crew.
“Haven't you a car, ah?” She asks raising her chin somewhat proudly, grabbing the Vice's arm between hers.
“Haven't you a Vato's dick to suck, instead of annoying everyone around you?”
God, those words come from the depths of your soul. Making the guys chuckle as she gets up full of rage.
“Watch your mouth, niña. You don' know who I am”. Pointing your chest with a finger once and again.
“Yea', looks like I don' give a shit that I don' even know your name”. You face her, not afraid. “Southern border is close, come back to your hole, whore. You don' have anything to do here”.
“Did you ju—”.
“Shit, yes, I did”. You roll your eyes, being fast enough to avoid the slap straight to your face.
El padrino takes you back, as Bishop and Angel go to her before she can try it again.
“You heard her, go back to southern border”. Taza says placing himself between both, turning then to hold your forearm and leave the front yard.
You don't say anything into your way to his motorbike, putting on the helmet as he turns it on. Grabbing his waist with your hands, he runs out of the clubhouse. You know he's mad. You can feel the tension on his body, driving the road he knows by heart to your house, taking his time as he looks like he's thoughtful.
When he stations the bike in front of your house, so you can jump off of it, you keep his gaze.
“'You gonna leave?” You ask him a little bit nervous, taking off the helmet to supporting it against your abdomen.
“'Don' know. What you want?”
Hesitating for a second, you take a step closer placing a hand on his nape, to press your lips on his. It's the first time you two kiss, after some weeks wanting it. He pulls you away, thinking that you screwed it up, until you see him getting up to leave behind his back the motorbike. Cupping your cheeks on his huge hands, Taza kisses you again. Tangling your fingers in the flannel shirt to push him closer, your lips move alone on his. It's better than you could imagine, tasting the tequila in his saliva and beer in yours. A perfect mix.
“So, are you gonna stay?” You almost beg between short and dearly kisses, finding yourself walking to your house, giving your back at it.
“Fuck, yes, baby”. He nods lifting you up, so you can surround his body with your legs.
#mayans mc x reader#mayans mc#mayans mc imagine#mayans x reader#che taza romero x reader#taza romero x reader#taza romero#taza romero imagine
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( Alberto Rosende + NB Man + He/They ) isn’t that Carlos Tavor over there singing? they’ve been in bloom for one year and I didn’t know they did that. somehow i know they’re a twenty-six-year-old stage tech. i’m pretty sure they’re bi with a strong preference for men and i heard they’re into hair pulling + oral fixation they’re staying at bloom court so maybe you stand a chance. ♡ penned by Terry & pacific & he/they/it
mic.off: Hey!! My name is Terry and I’ll be penning for Carlos and another baby ( hopefully ) sdlfkj I haven’t been in a group RP in a while and I'm very excited. I'm twenty-five and I’m an nb trans man as well as being gay sdljkf Carlos is a new muse that I have yet to write for so bare with me if he’s not totally realized. Here’s some info about him! Apologies I’m not the BEST at writing bios. There are two people mentioned in his bio Iris and Iris’ ex-boyfriend, both id’ totally love to see realized here in wanted connections if anybody is at all interested.
Name: Carlos Alvaro Tavor
Age: Twenty six
Sexuality: Bi with a heavy preference for men, he’s not at all opposed to being with a woman and is attracted to them it’s just basically easier for a man/male aligned person to get in bed with him or have a flirty romantic relationship than for a binary woman
Gender: NB man, he’s amab but like what the fuck is gender anyway?
Family and friends: Carlos has four sisters, one mother, three best friends back home and little to no friends at bloom. He tends to focus all his energy and attention into his job so even if you know him, he’s only been there about a year so it’s likely he won’t consider anyone a friend yet. His father passed away in an incident he doesn’t wish to discuss.
Sexually: Carlos is a verse, he tends to prefer being the submissive one but most definitely enjoys dominating the situation as well. Top or bottom is fine real men get pegged and he has an oral fixation and loves giving head to his partners regardless of what they have going on. He’s kinda into dirty talk but if you try and get him to speak Spanish during sex he’s just gonna fuckin leave lskjdhfjsdfg he has no patience for that Latin lover bullshit
Bio: Carlos was born the youngest of five children and the first and only boy of his parents. His father died when he was about two years old and only he, his family and his best friend Iris really know all the details, he really clams up when asked about it.
When he was four he met Iris, an Irish girl who would later turn out to be his very best friend.
They were inseparable and saw each other through so many hardships, their families even becoming very close and Iris’ father and Carlos’ mother even grew closer as well.
Carlos lived a pretty basic childhood if you asked hi. He picked up music from a very young age as a way to stay connected to his Cuban roots, learning the guitar, piano and how to sing. He could never get lessons because his mother was working three jobs to support five children ( his two oldest sisters also had part-time jobs while attending high school ) so he would never even consider asking. He considered it a blessing when he got his acoustic for his fourteenth birthday, crying when his mom told him she’d been saving up for it since he was ten and she saw him dancing around the living room strumming an air guitar to some of his favorite songs. He hugged his mom and promised to keep it safe and loved ( which he has, he still owns it to this day though it’s age is beginning to show a bit he’s never let any harm come to it )
When he entered high school is when things got, complicated. He was still a pretty average guy, he loved comics and videogames and anime, he joined band and theater as a stage tech. There he found his other calling, production. Turns out he was just as comfortable behind the stage as he was on it and was a natural leader with keeping things in check and order. Freshman year was also a big change for him because of Iris’ boyfriend, and not ... why you’d think. Or maybe exactly why you’d think cause he’s a giant gay cliche. He ended up being very attracted to the tall, intimidating heterochromatic jock.
which was, scary. like really really scary because he felt he’d never really been THAT into guys before. Sure he’d thought guys were hot but .. so do most guys right? Yeah no. Throughout his freshman year, Carlos quickly realized he was more in the middle of the Kinsey scale, finding attraction in men, women and pretty much everyone he met depending on the person. Iris supported him fully in this discovery, though never knowing about his massive crush on her then-boyfriend, and even helped him understand his gender confusion and pick up the non-binary label and they pronouns.
Which, is why come junior year when Iris is doubting her own sexuality, Carlos had her back and helped her come to realize she was, in fact, a lesbian. Her at the time boyfriend was surprisingly perfectly okay and supportive and stayed close friends with them both which just made Carlos fall even more smitten with the stupid sexy het jock goddamnit.
Enough about his highschool pining drama, Carlos graduated with honors and worked his ass off to get a full-ride scholarship to a moderately known performing arts school where he honed his skills both behind and on the stage as a performer for years. Graduating with a degree in music production with a minor in stage management.
With the support of two of his best friends he launched himself into the world and was, immediately exhausted and sad. Playing bar after underpaying bar, working low pay low appreciation stage tech and management jobs he was almost ready to quit the music industry entirely were it not for his sisters and Iris especially. Eventually, Iris ex saw an advertisement saying bloomfest was looking for new stage crew and tried to convince Carlos to go saying this would be good for him and help him find a place where his talent and craft are truly appreciated.
After talking it over with Iris, his mom, his sisters he found they all agreed and said he should go so, taking a chance his basic ass never thought he would he packed up his bags and moved to bloomfest as a permanent resident and employee. While he hasn’t been there long he’s made a name for himself as a reliable tech who will go above and beyond to get what you need and get it done even if he’s a bit grumpy about it. While his official job is dealing with stage tech, he spreads himself wherever he is needed in bloomfest and can often be found doing many odd jobs around in bizarre places. It’s just the kind of person he is. Helpful to a fault.
Personality: He’s a bit grumpy seeming when you first meet him, but that’s just because of how little sleep the idiot gets. He’s actually an absolute puppy if you don’t upset him. Loyal to a fault, eager to please and always willing to make friends if it’s not getting in the way of his work. He’s a bit more, bitter towards musicians at Bloom fest simply because he’s jealous, and a bit sick of catering to the needs of over specific spoiled musicians and recieving no credit for his hard work or even a thank you. Don’t take it personal, if you have a good additude he’s likely to warm up fast. He’s always down to play flirt or real flirt really, he’s a fuckign flirt of flirts nobody is safe ( unless they say like hey im uncomfortable don’t do that then of course he’d stop but you get the idea ) He’s got a passion for music and creative arts, and a special love for comics, videogames and anime. Due to his oral fixation you’ll often see him with hard candy or gum or his batman shaped chewey necklace! He’s also FIERCELY protective of women so watch out for that cause he can and will punch you.
Strengths: Loyal, skilled, charming, kind, creative, hard working.
Weaknesses: Too trusting, quick to solving things on his own without thinking, stretches himself too thin, kinda snippy at times, closed off to really falling in love due to emotional traumas from his past,
#bloom.intro#bloomselfie#holy frikoli this is the most iv'e written about a character in a while#mic.off
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hehehehehehehehe ur turn. overshare pals
hehe im lov u ceec :)
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1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?
water bottles and soda cans!
2. chocolate bars or lollipops?
chocolate.... im lov it
3. bubblegum or cotton candy?
cotton candy!
4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?
hardworking, earnest, and honestly? they gave me too much credit ebagweaganegioawnegew
5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?
soda bottles!
6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?
somewhere between boho, goth, and grunge hehe
7. earbuds or headphones?
headphones!
8. movies or tv shows?
movies,,
9. favorite smell in the summer?
you know that wet pavement smell after it rains? love that
10. game you were best at in p.e.?
dodgeball hehehe
11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?
nothin tbh. i don’t wake up early enough for it
12. name of your favorite playlist?
Writing Music! i made it hehehe
13. lanyard or key ring?
key ring!
14. favorite non-chocolate candy?
GUMMY BEARS AND JELLY BEANS
15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?
“A Child Called ‘It’“ by Dave Pelzer
16. most comfortable position to sit in?
cuddled up to someone in blankets,,, im lov anything with my s/o tbh
17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?
i have this beat up pair of blue slip ons that have bloodstains on em bc i got a nosebleed one day bwaeiugbaweugbaweubguaw
18. ideal weather?
post-raining, or like. just before it starts raining
19. sleeping position?
anything with my s/o or bein wrapped in like. a billion blankets
20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?
on my home pc in my room!
21. obsession from childhood?
dice and video games!
22. role model?
i know it’s gonna sound dumb but like. a lot of characters from media have influenced me a lot, like sans/komaeda etc. another one from my real life would be my aunt on my mom’s side!
23. strange habits?
i bounce my leg while listening to music or stressed,, that’s abt it. OH and i like twirling a small blanket around on my arm bc... acrobatics of sorts
24. favorite crystal?
amethyst, but anything clean cut and rounded looks rlly nice imo,,
25. first song you remember hearing?
the first day i remember in my life was christmas at my grandma’s when i was 4, so probably random christmas music ubwegebwgwebgoibgweg
26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?
sometimes when i get tired of sitting around at home i like to walk down to the dog park by my house!
27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?
cuddle,,,,,,,,,,, wrap up in a blanket with some freshly baked cookies n just. be there
28. five songs to describe you?
megalovania, medley rush 2 from the sonic rush ost, the promised neverland english op, metal crusher from undertale, metal scratchin’ from sonic rush
29. best way to bond with you?
just talk to me! im godawful at starting convos but i love talkin to ppl!
30. places that you find sacred?
every person’s room feels that way, as well as obvious places, like churches n whatnot. we went n visited my aunt’s old house so my mom could pick up some stuff and being in her room after she died in 2015 was just like. an emotion i can’t rlly describe
31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?
hoodie, trackpants, n sneakers hehe
32. top five favorite vines?
back at it again @ krispy kreme, ADAM, they were roommates, two dudes in a hot tub, my croissant
33. most used phrase in your phone?
either “be there soon” or “ily”
34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?
none tbh. i don’t watch much tv so i don’t see ads often
35. average time you fall asleep?
either 10:30 or sometime after midnight. no in between
36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?
it was a rage comic
37. suitcase or duffel bag?
suitcase!
38. lemonade or tea?
lemonade, but i LOVE tea!
39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?
LEMON CAKE....
40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?
i was walkin in the halls with my friend and someone dropped a styrofoam cup of pasta on my friend’s head from the second floor awbegiuawbeguiawbguaewg
41. last person you texted?
the person who sent this ask heheheheh
42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?
jacket pockets!
43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?
hoodie!
44. favorite scent for soap?
anything really, but i like whatever my s/o uses bc it would remind me of them!
45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?
fantasy!
46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?
underwear tbh. like. that and a tshirt or just underwear is the only way i can sleep
47. favorite type of cheese?
sensory issues say i have to hate all kinds of cheese outside of like. grilled cheese so let’s go with that/cheddar
48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?
dragonfruit!
49. what saying or quote do you live by?
GOD pretty much every quote from monomi or chiaki in danganronpa 2, but mostly “if you learn to love yourself, that love will continue to carry you for your whole life! love, love...”
50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?
OH HERES A FUCKIN STORY OK so i was at my friend’s house with a bunch of others bc we were doin a sleepover type thing and we were eating raising canes in his attic at like 3 am and some guy high on like. 3 different drugs at once got impaled through the leg on his fence. nobody saw him but we knew he was there and the cops were there in like 3 minutes. that very same friend has some of the most wack stories ngl
51. current stresses?
just doing well in school and making sure my s/o is happy!
52. favorite font?
comic sans.......................... im sorry
53. what is the current state of your hands?
my palms b sweaty but my fingers are dehydrated tbh. typin
54. what did you learn from your first job?
work.... difficult
55. favorite fairy tale?
probably the princess and the frog!
56. favorite tradition?
christmas!
57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?
probably my most noteworthy traumas tbh. gettin therapy for em, too
58. four talents you’re proud of having?
writing, my ability to overcome obstacles, being able to help ppl as well as i can, and making friends fast!
59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?
“Not dead yet.”
60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?
Probably either shounen, romance, or moe,,,,
61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?
“It’s a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, flowers are blooming. On days like these, kids like you... should be burning in hell.”
62. seven characters you relate to?
sans, komaeda, makoto naegi, komaru naegi, toko fukawa, chiaki nanami, and chihiro fujisaki!
63. five songs that would play in your club?
they’d all be fall out boy tbh. that and videogame osts
64. favorite website from your childhood?
armor games hehe
65. any permanent scars?
i don’t think so? at least, not yet
66. favorite flower(s)?
roses and anything blue!
67. good luck charms?
my dice sets!
68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?
vanilla york peppermint patties... gross
69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?
pikmin in pikmin 1 who are underneath a bridge when it’s completed are killed because they get pushed through the ground
70. left or right handed?
right handed!
71. least favorite pattern?
probably the hellish bumpy pattern all teachers have all over their fuckin classrooms
72. worst subject?
math
73. favorite weird flavor combo?
chicken nuggets in milkshake... good. or frankly just like. cooked chicken mixed with anythin cold like ice or ice cream
74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?
like. 3 or 4
75. when did you lose your first tooth?
i was eating a crunch bar and it fell out hehe
76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?
I WOULD DIE FOR FRENCH FRIES.
77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?
any small blooming plant, like a single rose or flower!
78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?
hrm. coffee from a gas station tbh
79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?
NEITHER LOOK GOOD LMAO and i don’t have a driver’s license. that’s just like. a prediction
80. earth tones or jewel tones?
jewel tones!
81. fireflies or lightning bugs?
lightning bugs!
82. pc or console?
either works but i spend more time on pc!
83. writing or drawing?
writing, but i like both!
84. podcasts or talk radio?
talk radio, but i love podcasts like TAZ or Critical Role!
84. barbie or polly pocket?
neither? but probably barbie bc it’s more well known? idk
85. fairy tales or mythology?
mythology!
86. cookies or cupcakes?
cupcakes all the way b
87. your greatest fear?
me being the last person i know alive. i’d rather die than outlive everyone
88. your greatest wish?
i hope that no matter what there is after we die, i get to be with the people that are most important to me.
89. who would you put before everyone else?
my s/o and family tbh
90. luckiest mistake?
buying danganronpa bweguowabguawebogbaweibg
91. boxes or bags?
boxes!
92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?
fairy lights!
93. nicknames?
i go by wes, dev, bines, anything rlly
94. favorite season?
spring!
95. favorite app on your phone?
tumblr hehe
96. desktop background?
it’s the ddlc cast! it’s a greyscaled image of four of the events cut together and their eyes glow hehe
97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?
only one, and it’s my dads bc i have to call him every time i go to my grandparents’ hehe
98. favorite historical era?
probably the one we’re in now tbh, but like. also hate it
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warning, the following has mainly snarky (and possibly furious) opinions on Spirit of Justice. Reader discretion is advised.
Okay folks. this is it. part 1 of the final chapter
here we go.
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trial day 2?? oh yeah i forgot they split this game up in the worst, uneven way possible
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wow that cutscene was
something alright
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wow datz actually managed to hold onto the snow globe. kudos?
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what the fuck
i think i heard it wrong but Dhurke’s objection sounds like an old man
I'm pretty sure i heard it wrong
missed the bass
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who was that no– oh Garananana
i guess she's gonna be the final boss instead huh
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im so tired i cant even snark properly
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“is that kosher?”
i like it
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oh god
what.... what is she wearing
i mean
fuckin
TALK about madonna-whore complex. oh yeah, time to turn super evil?? bear your midriff! show off dem tiddies!
look, SOJ. theres only one bad bitch in ace attorney who can pull off floaty tendril hair, and its NOT ga’ran.
i cant believe i have to look at this train wreck for the rest of the trial
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“heh heh heh. its all coming back now. the feel of my blood pumping through my veins”
this is perhaps because youre actually moving now, your eminence.
-
can we just dispense with the trial and have a good old fashioned anime fight? cmon apollo, spike up that hair and grab your BFS.
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“meep”
WHATS WITH THE MEEPING
BONNY DID THAT TOO
SOJ ITS 2016 ...ACTUALLY ITS 2028 YOU HOLES
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everyone in the court: :O what??? whats wrong with rayfa??? why is she sad???
oh i dunno maybe because her fucking Father just got brutally murdered?? maybe??
what the fuck is up with SOJ characters being dumb as a bag of bricks when it comes to other peoples’ feelings regarding death of loved ones???
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phoenix: shits fucked, thats why??
apollo: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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“seems like she's worse off today than she was yesterday”
hey game you'd better not be implying any shit
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“discipline”
soj
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alright, back after another longass break. i can do this.
( That’s oddly compassionate of him, all things considered )
I was about to defend Nahyuta because what kind of person wouldn’t try to spare a child from witnessing that kind of trauma... but then again, this is the Sadmad who purposefully tried to trigger someone into losing a trial so
(shrug emoji)
-
grana’s gone into full HORHORHOR BITCH MODE
partially I'm totally numb because i dont have any stakes in her newfound ebilness, and partially I'm tired of this weird new trend of child abuse in the new games
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“Barbed head.”
oh my god
the first person she goes to after realizing that her caretaker is gone is fucking Phoenix
im gonna cry
“ive been reduced to “royal robe remover”” NO NICK YOU’VE BEEN UPGRADED TO DAD BY SOMEONE WHO’S NOT YOU
( ‘It’s like she’s grooming Mr. Wright to be Nayna’s replacement’)
I know this game is all about confusing bullshit for heartwarming moments and vice versa but guys
good lord
my heart
i really needed that
-
(sigh) they really couldn’t get someone who sounded like a fucking 14 year old to do her voice?? really???
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rayfa: (looks like she's going to die and collapses)
apollo: this is not good...
gee apollo you really think so?
-
wait a fuking second
we went through the whole dance cutscene and we’re not even going to see the pool??? does that mean the priestess has to be conscious and present for the images to be visible? ...and how does that work, anyway?
i just realized, a medium could use a pool to see the dead, but how the hell could they project it for others to see?? does she literally open a portal to hell???
(sigh) i just regret sitting through that cutscene again
-
“cabal of traitorous lawyers”
i love that
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(Seriously Dhurke? This is no laughing matter.)
this basically sums up Dhurke’s entire personality
...yknow, i know what they were trying to do with his character– i really do. i know he’s supposed to come off as a dashing, cavalier rebel who laughs in the face of danger.
but they overshot endearingly irreverent and ploughed straight into fuckwaddome. if you want a character to be charming, they need softer moments too. Dhurke isn’t a bad person, but he’s kind of an asshole when you get right down to it, and nothing so far is proving otherwise.
-
ok ive heard Dhurke’s Objection again and it doesn't sound like an old man– it just sounds about as overblown and ridiculous as Manfred von Karma’s (not to mention about as deep)
-
LET DHURKE SAY BITCH
... i guess
-
another perfect example of Dhurke being kind of a fuckwad: he keeps needling the queen and baiting her in ways that could get himself killed, which would be all fine and dandy if he were the brave resistance leader being tortured for information in the bowels of a dungeon.
...but here’s the thing.
IF YOU DIE, DHURKE, APOLLO AND PHOENIX DIE TOO. DID YOU FORGET ABOUT THE GODDAMN DC ACT? ITS NOT JUST YOUR DEAD ASS ON THE LINE HERE SO SHUT YOUR SASSY TRAP AND THINK ABOUT SOMETHING OTHER THAN YOUR *AMAZING WIT* FOR ONCE.
you’ve got 2 extra lives on the line here.
...3 if my suspicions are correct.
-
stop calling him son please you abandoned him in an orphanage and didnt contact him for 14 years.
...and if he can’t call you ‘dad’ you have no right to call him ‘son’
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coming back to this after ghost trick has convinced me that one of ga’ran’s lackeys miiiiiight be related to Cabanela, baby
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“Wright... I can see we are kindred spirits, you and I! Hah-ha ha ha ha ha!!”
NO
NO
NO
NO
FUCK YOU DHURKE
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“It’s pretty easy to spot the difference between a soulless man and the soulless shell of a man”
ok that did get a laugh out of me, good job dhurke.
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apollo: pls dont get us killed
dhurke: mmmm ok ill try but I'm not promising anything lol
://///
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“But remember, son, if you truly believe in me, you should be able to prove my innocence.”
do i even have to list how many reasons thats wrong and a shitty thing to say
-
“Such Insolence”
You’ve been beat out, Not So Fast
-
Ga’ran used Gust!
Apollo flinched and couldn’t move!
-
“I could behead you at any time”
she's got a point; she’s a fucking despot, there’s no reason to actually hold a trial. i mean i guess she wants to shut up the rebels but just killing them would be a lot easier and its not like she has any qualms about murder
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“Aw shoot, ya got me.”
again, not an appropriate reaction for whats going on buddy
-
lol get fucked kjudge
-
DGFUFUS OH COOL
WE GOT GUILTY (excited cheers from the audience)
the applause and the shots of everyone with :O faces is making me feel like i just won a gameshow
wheres my cheesy jingle
-
also i love how Dhurke’s like “oh shit!! my assholishness has directly resulted in my son’s death!!! did NOT see that coming!!!!!!!!!”
-
again the sound mixing is drowning out the background music (sigh)
-
“your benevolence? I’d be happy to lend an ear if you’d like to talk!”
>this is it, this is why he leaves the series guys. Apollo is too good for these sinful games.
-
DAMNIT DHURKE, YOUR SHIT MOUTH IS RUBBING OFF ON YOUR SON
-
hmm
we’ve got an april may here
-
“Rayfa, I shall buy you a new servant”
so Kooraheen practices slavery..? I mean, she.... she said ‘buy’, not hire.
-
“she would have left shoeprints”
do
do you know what evaporation is your malevolence
-
wait wait wait
that doesn't make any sense
the only prints leading out are from Inga, but the prints inside the building are from Nayna? how did she avoid leaving prints leading inside, then?? did she just long-jump over the dirt path???
-
the guards are not fanboying, apollo, they’re toadying. there’s a difference.
-
apollo: maybe the place he was stabbed and the place he died were different
(the game only continues after you carefully explain what dying of blood loss is three years later)
-
to be completely fair, there are actually stories of people who were unaware of being stabbed
furthermore, when you get stabbed, you’re not going to be the most rational human being on earth.
phoenix, don’t give sadmad that point, especially when he’s currently assaulting your protege
now, as i was saying, Apollo’s suggestion that Inga was stabbed in the back and then ran into the temple is perfectly plausible; running to shelter from an attacker is probably the first thing you’d want to do when injured, and the tomb was a pretty safe place, i’d wager.
tbh i really don’t know why they’re arguing about him feeling the pain as that wouldn’t really impair his movement considering he was stabbed in a place that wouldn’t affect his ability to walk???
but yeah apparently he was doped up to shit so
-
...i highly doubt back pain medication is strong enough to negate a stab wound. on the other hand, if it is and your back pain is THAT intense, Inga, you need to see a fucking doctor pronto.
...yeah shots straight into the spine is one step away from surgery; not to be an asshole but I'm not sure Inga was doing so well anyway before he went
-
huh. are they really gonna give us an actual choosable choice to abandon Dhurke and save our own skin? Cause that would be interesting; a lot like the old games where you could “”choose”” to defend a client or not.
to be clear here, though, i wouldn't choose “no” even as much as i dislike dhurke. we know (sigh) that he’s innocent, and even if i dont like him it’s our duty to defend his shitty ass
OH HOLY FUCK
THERES THE CHOICE
wow. y’know SOJ, i dont much like you, but you fuckin Did That. well done.
also thank you for the Justice pun it is much appreciated.
-
“And while I can’t say I’m used to it, this isn’t exactly my first rodeo”
FWHAT
>game flashes back to the Ahlbi case
DSKJFLS THIS IS LITERALLY THE “at second rodeo: this isn't my first rodeo” POST
-
YES OK WE’VE SEEN THIS CUTSCENE TWICE NOW ALREADY
WE GET IT, RAYFAS GOT COLD FEET ABOUT BEING QUEEN
MAYAS IN THE GAME
OK
-
phoenix: allow me to mansplain how rayfa is feeling despite how fucking obvious it is. after all, we know our players have the mental and emotional capacity of goldfish!
oh hey mansplain is a legit word in the dictionary
cool!
-
why are they building this up?? just fucking tell Rayfa to do her stupid dance again and get on with it; we already did this at the beginning of the trial
-
“Hmm... Indeed. It would be problematic.”
ohohoooohohohhhihgjhgo
-
oh her nails are actually tiny pen
thats neat
thank goodness Kooraheeneese is an up-and-down written language– otherwise they’d have to make a whole new animation for the english game teehee
-
“....................But... Horn Head needs my help”
oh my heart
-
dan she just straight up begone’d her
-
see the one thing that falls flat here is that, during a regular trial, the prosecution saying “oh, ok, have it your way; you can try to prove your theory” holds up a little more since they... you know. don’t have absolute power.
where as, with Garananana, its more like she's just a huge posturing pushover. especially since every other minute she's saying “ok, I'm gonna kill you for REAL now.”
-
rayfa: b but if i fail you'll be killed!!! i dont get it...
apollo: i literally just finished explaining that I'm 100% ready to die for my shitty job that was like 5 minutes ago
it is sweet to see that he’s cheering her on though. good big bro
-
I'm finding small solace in this beautiful moment of “your foreign dad and bro are here for you babe reach for the stars”
Athena’s probably flashing a double thumbs up from the gallery too
-
“But... I finally know now. I know in what I can trust”
Bobby, from the afterlife: YOU’RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE
-
Garan: What??? my tiny 14 year old daughter is going to do a thing i don’t want her to??? fuck there’s no way i can shut her up. not even with all of my large adult man guards who could easily just escort her out of the courtroom without any resistance because they’re my fucking royal guards and I'm the Queen
-
oh shit she took off her own cape
im so glad i muted the game so her awful voice actress couldn’t ruin this cool moment
-
and now as this long ass cutscene plays out again, i simply cannot help but wonder about the poor choir and how long they’ve been on standby
where do they keep the choir during trials
whats it like singing the dance of devotion song every trial
-
oh finally here we go. alright, lets see what the magic party pool has in store for us this time
...o ...ok then
-
OH! OH SHIT
Inga’s face blind?!
Y’know I did have a few thoughts about that when we discovered his notebook but I didn’t think they’d actually go that route... though, thinking about it now, it is pretty convenient.
...ok everyone’s freaking out. maybe they’ve never heard of face-blindness? ...or maybe its not face blindness after all
im pretty sure it is though
-
i dont know why but everyone being like FUCK ITS GOD and phoenix being like “whoops shits trippy now” made me laugh pretty hard
-
ok i gotta say I'm actually a little invested now, even if its just because i think face-blindness is an interesting thing to incorporate into a murder case. again, a convenient thing, but an interesting thing all the same.
-
ahh fuck i keep forgetting how the stupid seance works
welp, there goes one of my souls... (sigh)
-
..apollo you dont need to show her the picture of her dead father to say “he had a cell phone”.
-
the voice was coming from INSIDE THE PHONE
-
RAYFA HAS A PET FROG????
WHAT
SHOW US THE FROG SOJ
SHOW US THE FROG! SHOW US THE FROG! SHOW US THE FROG!
-
...why would Rayfa interpret the sound of the warbaa’d (something she’s familiar with) with a lion’s roar (something she’s unfamiliar with) ??
-
oh i see thats why Vore Machine is an idiot
for plot convenience
-
Datz Are’bal, a man who throws fire crackers at children.
...sounds like an are’bal guy.
bahdum-tshh
-
“The joker who got a kick out of startling Ahlbi with his Dragon Snot Snaps”
...something tells me that if Datz found out about Youtube, he’d be one of those “””prank””” channels.
also WHY ARE THEY CALLED SNOT SNAPS
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
-
“happy-go-lucky”
i think you mean vaguely sociopathic
-
(sigh) ive finally been worn down to the point where i need a walkthrough. ive... been beaten...
-
boy ahlbi’s just a font of knowledge isn't he
-
DID SHE JUST BREAK HER NAILS OFF
PLEASE SAY THOSE WERE STICK ONS
HOL SHIT
-
MMMM LAY IT ON ME NICK
face blindness
... i mean theyre not calling it that but thats what it is
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yeah yeah channeling blah blah come on! youre in the LAND of channeling !
-
shduhjahdjk
I'm picturing Inga running into his own dead body and flipping his shit
-
oh man. thats the end of Trail 2 part 1.
guess i’ll see you guys on the other side... heheh.
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The Fat Jew’s ‘Money Pizza Respect’ is the worst book I’ve ever read
I wish I liked the Fat Jews new book. It would make a far more interesting piece if he exceeded our expectations. No one I talked to expected it to be good. I bet he didnt even write it, said one friend. I bet he had his interns write it.
To contextualize this for people who arent on the Internet all the time, Josh The Fat Jew Ostrovsky became the center of controversy when he was accused of stealing memes and jokes from comedians this summer. Ostrovsky had been doing this for years, and amassed millions of Instagram followers with his admittedly excellent meme aggregating skills. But comedians took a stand when he signed with the talent agency CAA in August.
Upon reading Money Pizza Respect, there is no doubt in my mind that the unfortunately titled book is penned by the Fat Jew himself; I confidently assert that MoneyPizza Respect is singlehandedly the worst book I have ever read.
His actual sense of humorand Im talking about humor, not the memes he aggregatesis painfully abject. He relies on a Tucker Max-esque style of storytelling, glorifying cocaine and alcohol abuse and fucking his groupies, who all embody a different type of crazy girl stereotype.
In a chapter ironically titled The Eleven Commandments of Not Being the Worst Person Ever, he warns readers that if you aggressively and frequently talk about your sex life, people will think youre gay. When you tell me that you tackled a slam pig and stuffed her axe wound, he writes, I assume that your actual goal is having anal sex with men. Ostrovsky makes sure to note that the only exception to this rule is Dan Bilzerian, who has literally thrown a woman off his roof, breaking her foot, and been accused of kicking another woman in the face.
Money Pizza Respect is laced with homophobic comments. He writes a note to P. Diddy: Sorry for outing you as a homosexual. Im pretty sure you are, but Im sorry. Theres also a healthy dose of sexism, describing his female groupies as a bunch of fours and fives who have giant lady hands hate their dads. To complete the trifecta, he also manages to be transphobic, referring to transgender women as trannies in a chapter chronicling his brothers bachelor party. (When his brother and friends found out the strippers who were giving them lap dances were trans, they left the club immediately.)
Before I met Ostrovsky, I was confused about how he was so successful, especially after reading his book, where he brags about his selfish and generally gross behavior at every possible moment, proudly displays pictures of him wearing a thong made out of beef jerky, and writes things like, Cocaine is the greatest gift the world has ever seen.
When I sat down with him at a press junket, located at an arcade in Chinatown, I immediately understood why hes garnered so much success. He is unfortunately charming and is actually a naturally funny person. Hes like the cool, mean boy in 8th grade, the type who introduced pot to all your friends and made fun of girls for being ugly or not having boobs yet. The type who definitely bullied me, and yet I tirelessly tried to gain his affection.
During our interview, Ostrovsky remained on the defensive, masterful at answering my questions with non-answers. He is somebody who has never taken life seriously, which is perhaps not too difficult for a straight, white, affluent male. He is fundamentally interested in his conception of fun, and hopes youll join him for the ride. If not, fuck off.
Its not that I began to like Ostrovsky or his book any more after meeting him, but I went from hating him to feeling an iota of pity for him. His flamboyant and unapologetic immaturity, his bratty affect: This is what has brought him success, and what I imagine will be his inevitable downfall.
So my approach for this interview, because I know a lot of people have been shitting on you, is to not shit on you.
No ones been shitting on me.
I was curious about how that affected you emotionally, and how you felt about getting blasted by the media.
It was definitely a shitty situation. Im of the Internet, so its like a lot of people screaming about things. I respect trolling. I respect people screaming at one another, which is why the Internet is so fucking great. I definitely didnt take it personally. It was also something that needed to get talked about. People were not on the same page. Like a 38-year-old comedy writer and a 16-year-old Filipino millennial were not seeing the issue the same way.
I try to look at it like I was the face of the whole thing. I mean the Internet is a giant, lawless fuckin thing. Sometimes we need some rules But not too many. Because that would be weird. No parents. But you know, sometimes people get pissed. I obviously see it from the 16-year-old Filipino millennial side. I dont look for credit on my stuff and I dont ever watermark or anything like that, but I also get the other side too. Im old enough to understand both sides. I just want everyone to be happy so were fuckin partying.
Instagram for fucking photos of dogs playing volleyball in sunglasses and iguanas surfing. I just want to have everyone get heard, fix the problem, and then get back to surfing iguanas. It didnt rock me emotionally because I just saw it as something that needed to be discussed. It definitely got dangerous and exciting at some points. People just get so crazy, theres a portion of people who dont even know what theyre screaming about. I got chased by TMZ. Some guy followed me around a Duane Reade recording my phone call. That was tight.
You liked that?
I kinda felt like Leo , for like a second. It was also scary. No one wants that life. I was trying to look at it like this is a conversation that needed to be had. I didnt look at it as being shit on. The Internet is more important to me than my family or anything. I would love to be with the Internet, have sex with the Internet, I love the Internet. Now its a better place.
Why was it important for you to celebrate drugs, specifically cocaine, in your book?
Its a mixed bag. I refer to it as the best and worst thing ever. Part of the ethos of this book is that its a how-to guide in that its like I dont know what you should be doing but I know what you shouldnt be doing. Ive seen every horrible thing. I basically think you read this book and you dont do coke. Because youre like, its gonna make me unbearable. Like my breath is gonna smell like a diaper and get into a super intense conversation about stuff I dont even care about.
I think it depends on how old the reader is. For me, Ive done coke so I understood more where you were coming from in that it can be great and terrible at the same time. From a teenagers standpoint, it might just look really cool.
It depends. Im pretty explicit that its been responsible for the greatest things that ever happened, but also some of the most horrendous things, too. I think its more self-reflective than it is encouraging.
Your book is provocative is many ways. People are going to interpret some of the content as transphobic and homophobic. I was thinking of the chapter where you refer to trans women as trannies.
I dont know what youre specifically referring to.
You wrote about tranny strippers. Thats a contentious word. Many trans people have spoken out about how hurtful they find that term to be. I was curious about how you would respond to those critics.
is a factual account of what happened. Youre talking about an actual pejorative word?
Yeah. Its a slur. There were a bunch of moments in the book where I read something and immediately thought about how angry it would make social justice activists on the Internet.
Social justice people are angry at everything.
I was wondering if you included some things specifically to be provocative.
No, definitely not. First of all, any social justice person can come at me at any time. I literally have more transgender friends who will vouch for me than anyone. They self-identify as trannies. Ask a transgender who is not a nerd from the Internet how they identify, and I bet you will find hundreds who identify as trannies.
I know transgender folks who identify that way. Its like the N-word. If they call themselves that, its OK. But having a cis person is a different story.
Any person who would find offense in that kind of minutia is not someone who should be reading this book.
Its not your audience, thats probably true.
That shouldnt be anyones audience, as far Im concerned.
As I was reading your book, I was thinking about your crazy drug and sex stories as they relate to Tucker Maxs stories from I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Was he somebody who influenced you?
No, thats like bro culture stuff. This is completely different.
Tonally, there were similarities.
Ive never read it, but I also think that in terms of this book, like Ive been living performance art long enough to write a book full of debaucherous stories, but I wanted to go with more pathos, truth. From what I understand from Tucker Maxs stuff, he doesnt really go into too much stuff like that. Not all the stories here are particularly turnt up, as far as Im concerned. There are some that are honest family stories, not every story is about partying.
But a lot of them are.
We can go through it When I was writing it, putting in some emotion and truth, and some real feeling on it, like talking about my mom having sex with Shel Silverstein and being a 9-year-old child actor diva. Shit like that, to me, that is not the same as walking around a bar with a breathalyzer . I dont not relate to it, but Ive never read any of his stuff.
Ostrovsky as a child actor Josh Ostrovsky
Do you differentiate between the Fat Jew as your performative character and yourself as Josh?
No. I dont go home at night and unscrew the hairection , sit down, and listen to This American Life and be like, Oh, what a hard day at work! Being the Fat Jew! No, its all one in the same. To me, that would be disingenuous. I was doing this stuff long before there was anywhere to share it, long before anyone knew about it. Ten years ago, people in New York would be like, Oh thats the Fat Jew, the guy who does crazy stuff. It wasnt something I created and cultivated in order to share on social media for the masses.
But this is your career, this is your passion, but a lot of artists and actors differentiate between their performative self, which is still their self, and who they are when theyre not performing.
Im not an artist or an actor. Im neither.
How do you identify?
Im the only one whos really just going for it. Im genuinely making it up as I go along. I could start a ros company and that could become a real thing. Im about to do the worlds first EDM cologne.
What is that gonna smell like?
I dont know. Thats a good question. Like I dont even know what that means but Im gonna do it. Its 2015. Anything is possible. The world is so ridiculous at this point. I might open a yoga ashram in Toronto. Who knows? Im one of the only people who doesnt consider anything on or off limits. I dont think that it can be defined. We have this human need to compartmentalize, to be like, What are you? But I dont know.
I guess its my job to say, as a writer trying to make sense of what you do.
I dont think theres anything to make sense of. I dont know. What do you think I do?
I think youre a content creator and performer.
Thats vague. But yeah. Im not not. But thats what Im saying. I like to keep people guessing, keep people off kilter. If people think Im a comedian, I will move in a totally different direction and start making cologne. I wanna make people go, What the fuck? Keeping people guessing, keeping genuine conversation going about me, whether its, I dont want to say the word negative, but whatever its gonna be, thats what I am. A conversation starter? I dont know.
Tastemaker?
Conversation piece? Idiot? All of the above?
Whats your goal with your book? Why do you do what you do? Aside from the fact that you just want to do it.
The end goal with the book is that I think I can get some turnt-up 18-year-old to read. Thats the challenge, like, can you get fuckin some kids to read and think its really fuckin chill? Is that doable? Ill literally do it just for that.
Were doing reading raves to promote the book. IRL is what the programs called. Its just like huge DJs and books. Like, can you make them read? I think its doable. I dont think publishing knows how to do it. I dont think parents know how to do it.
So you want to make reading cool?
Kind of. What if Im somehow the guy to do it?
What are your favorite books?
I love Shel Silverstein, and not only because my mom fucked him. Mostly, Im the type to read 100 listicles. Like, what kind of bagel is Rihanna? You know what I mean? One-hundred times Rihanna ate fruit. Im not reading enough books.
No ones reading enough books.
Maybe now? That would fucking weird. To get a fucking 17-year-old whos over it to sit down and read an entire book? I mean I put in some stuff to break up the chapters, like you can color in a picture of Tyrese. I mean, I dont want you to have to read too much.
Illustration by Max Fleishman
Popular on The Daily Dot
I went to the Rentboy liquidation sale, and all I got was this amazing escort swag
After a massive federal raid, Rentboy had to sell its entire office on Craigslist to pay its lawyers.
By Mary Emily O'Hara — November 02, 2015
Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/19/the-fat-jewaes-money-pizza-respect-is-the-worst-book-iaeve-ever-read/
from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/09/19/the-fat-jewaes-money-pizza-respect-is-the-worst-book-iaeve-ever-read/
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The Fat Jew’s ‘Money Pizza Respect’ is the worst book I’ve ever read
I wish I liked the Fat Jews new book. It would make a far more interesting piece if he exceeded our expectations. No one I talked to expected it to be good. I bet he didnt even write it, said one friend. I bet he had his interns write it.
To contextualize this for people who arent on the Internet all the time, Josh The Fat Jew Ostrovsky became the center of controversy when he was accused of stealing memes and jokes from comedians this summer. Ostrovsky had been doing this for years, and amassed millions of Instagram followers with his admittedly excellent meme aggregating skills. But comedians took a stand when he signed with the talent agency CAA in August.
Upon reading Money Pizza Respect, there is no doubt in my mind that the unfortunately titled book is penned by the Fat Jew himself; I confidently assert that MoneyPizza Respect is singlehandedly the worst book I have ever read.
His actual sense of humorand Im talking about humor, not the memes he aggregatesis painfully abject. He relies on a Tucker Max-esque style of storytelling, glorifying cocaine and alcohol abuse and fucking his groupies, who all embody a different type of crazy girl stereotype.
In a chapter ironically titled The Eleven Commandments of Not Being the Worst Person Ever, he warns readers that if you aggressively and frequently talk about your sex life, people will think youre gay. When you tell me that you tackled a slam pig and stuffed her axe wound, he writes, I assume that your actual goal is having anal sex with men. Ostrovsky makes sure to note that the only exception to this rule is Dan Bilzerian, who has literally thrown a woman off his roof, breaking her foot, and been accused of kicking another woman in the face.
Money Pizza Respect is laced with homophobic comments. He writes a note to P. Diddy: Sorry for outing you as a homosexual. Im pretty sure you are, but Im sorry. Theres also a healthy dose of sexism, describing his female groupies as a bunch of fours and fives who have giant lady hands hate their dads. To complete the trifecta, he also manages to be transphobic, referring to transgender women as trannies in a chapter chronicling his brothers bachelor party. (When his brother and friends found out the strippers who were giving them lap dances were trans, they left the club immediately.)
Before I met Ostrovsky, I was confused about how he was so successful, especially after reading his book, where he brags about his selfish and generally gross behavior at every possible moment, proudly displays pictures of him wearing a thong made out of beef jerky, and writes things like, Cocaine is the greatest gift the world has ever seen.
When I sat down with him at a press junket, located at an arcade in Chinatown, I immediately understood why hes garnered so much success. He is unfortunately charming and is actually a naturally funny person. Hes like the cool, mean boy in 8th grade, the type who introduced pot to all your friends and made fun of girls for being ugly or not having boobs yet. The type who definitely bullied me, and yet I tirelessly tried to gain his affection.
During our interview, Ostrovsky remained on the defensive, masterful at answering my questions with non-answers. He is somebody who has never taken life seriously, which is perhaps not too difficult for a straight, white, affluent male. He is fundamentally interested in his conception of fun, and hopes youll join him for the ride. If not, fuck off.
Its not that I began to like Ostrovsky or his book any more after meeting him, but I went from hating him to feeling an iota of pity for him. His flamboyant and unapologetic immaturity, his bratty affect: This is what has brought him success, and what I imagine will be his inevitable downfall.
So my approach for this interview, because I know a lot of people have been shitting on you, is to not shit on you.
No ones been shitting on me.
I was curious about how that affected you emotionally, and how you felt about getting blasted by the media.
It was definitely a shitty situation. Im of the Internet, so its like a lot of people screaming about things. I respect trolling. I respect people screaming at one another, which is why the Internet is so fucking great. I definitely didnt take it personally. It was also something that needed to get talked about. People were not on the same page. Like a 38-year-old comedy writer and a 16-year-old Filipino millennial were not seeing the issue the same way.
I try to look at it like I was the face of the whole thing. I mean the Internet is a giant, lawless fuckin thing. Sometimes we need some rules But not too many. Because that would be weird. No parents. But you know, sometimes people get pissed. I obviously see it from the 16-year-old Filipino millennial side. I dont look for credit on my stuff and I dont ever watermark or anything like that, but I also get the other side too. Im old enough to understand both sides. I just want everyone to be happy so were fuckin partying.
Instagram for fucking photos of dogs playing volleyball in sunglasses and iguanas surfing. I just want to have everyone get heard, fix the problem, and then get back to surfing iguanas. It didnt rock me emotionally because I just saw it as something that needed to be discussed. It definitely got dangerous and exciting at some points. People just get so crazy, theres a portion of people who dont even know what theyre screaming about. I got chased by TMZ. Some guy followed me around a Duane Reade recording my phone call. That was tight.
You liked that?
I kinda felt like Leo , for like a second. It was also scary. No one wants that life. I was trying to look at it like this is a conversation that needed to be had. I didnt look at it as being shit on. The Internet is more important to me than my family or anything. I would love to be with the Internet, have sex with the Internet, I love the Internet. Now its a better place.
Why was it important for you to celebrate drugs, specifically cocaine, in your book?
Its a mixed bag. I refer to it as the best and worst thing ever. Part of the ethos of this book is that its a how-to guide in that its like I dont know what you should be doing but I know what you shouldnt be doing. Ive seen every horrible thing. I basically think you read this book and you dont do coke. Because youre like, its gonna make me unbearable. Like my breath is gonna smell like a diaper and get into a super intense conversation about stuff I dont even care about.
I think it depends on how old the reader is. For me, Ive done coke so I understood more where you were coming from in that it can be great and terrible at the same time. From a teenagers standpoint, it might just look really cool.
It depends. Im pretty explicit that its been responsible for the greatest things that ever happened, but also some of the most horrendous things, too. I think its more self-reflective than it is encouraging.
Your book is provocative is many ways. People are going to interpret some of the content as transphobic and homophobic. I was thinking of the chapter where you refer to trans women as trannies.
I dont know what youre specifically referring to.
You wrote about tranny strippers. Thats a contentious word. Many trans people have spoken out about how hurtful they find that term to be. I was curious about how you would respond to those critics.
is a factual account of what happened. Youre talking about an actual pejorative word?
Yeah. Its a slur. There were a bunch of moments in the book where I read something and immediately thought about how angry it would make social justice activists on the Internet.
Social justice people are angry at everything.
I was wondering if you included some things specifically to be provocative.
No, definitely not. First of all, any social justice person can come at me at any time. I literally have more transgender friends who will vouch for me than anyone. They self-identify as trannies. Ask a transgender who is not a nerd from the Internet how they identify, and I bet you will find hundreds who identify as trannies.
I know transgender folks who identify that way. Its like the N-word. If they call themselves that, its OK. But having a cis person is a different story.
Any person who would find offense in that kind of minutia is not someone who should be reading this book.
Its not your audience, thats probably true.
That shouldnt be anyones audience, as far Im concerned.
As I was reading your book, I was thinking about your crazy drug and sex stories as they relate to Tucker Maxs stories from I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Was he somebody who influenced you?
No, thats like bro culture stuff. This is completely different.
Tonally, there were similarities.
Ive never read it, but I also think that in terms of this book, like Ive been living performance art long enough to write a book full of debaucherous stories, but I wanted to go with more pathos, truth. From what I understand from Tucker Maxs stuff, he doesnt really go into too much stuff like that. Not all the stories here are particularly turnt up, as far as Im concerned. There are some that are honest family stories, not every story is about partying.
But a lot of them are.
We can go through it When I was writing it, putting in some emotion and truth, and some real feeling on it, like talking about my mom having sex with Shel Silverstein and being a 9-year-old child actor diva. Shit like that, to me, that is not the same as walking around a bar with a breathalyzer . I dont not relate to it, but Ive never read any of his stuff.
Ostrovsky as a child actor Josh Ostrovsky
Do you differentiate between the Fat Jew as your performative character and yourself as Josh?
No. I dont go home at night and unscrew the hairection , sit down, and listen to This American Life and be like, Oh, what a hard day at work! Being the Fat Jew! No, its all one in the same. To me, that would be disingenuous. I was doing this stuff long before there was anywhere to share it, long before anyone knew about it. Ten years ago, people in New York would be like, Oh thats the Fat Jew, the guy who does crazy stuff. It wasnt something I created and cultivated in order to share on social media for the masses.
But this is your career, this is your passion, but a lot of artists and actors differentiate between their performative self, which is still their self, and who they are when theyre not performing.
Im not an artist or an actor. Im neither.
How do you identify?
Im the only one whos really just going for it. Im genuinely making it up as I go along. I could start a ros company and that could become a real thing. Im about to do the worlds first EDM cologne.
What is that gonna smell like?
I dont know. Thats a good question. Like I dont even know what that means but Im gonna do it. Its 2015. Anything is possible. The world is so ridiculous at this point. I might open a yoga ashram in Toronto. Who knows? Im one of the only people who doesnt consider anything on or off limits. I dont think that it can be defined. We have this human need to compartmentalize, to be like, What are you? But I dont know.
I guess its my job to say, as a writer trying to make sense of what you do.
I dont think theres anything to make sense of. I dont know. What do you think I do?
I think youre a content creator and performer.
Thats vague. But yeah. Im not not. But thats what Im saying. I like to keep people guessing, keep people off kilter. If people think Im a comedian, I will move in a totally different direction and start making cologne. I wanna make people go, What the fuck? Keeping people guessing, keeping genuine conversation going about me, whether its, I dont want to say the word negative, but whatever its gonna be, thats what I am. A conversation starter? I dont know.
Tastemaker?
Conversation piece? Idiot? All of the above?
Whats your goal with your book? Why do you do what you do? Aside from the fact that you just want to do it.
The end goal with the book is that I think I can get some turnt-up 18-year-old to read. Thats the challenge, like, can you get fuckin some kids to read and think its really fuckin chill? Is that doable? Ill literally do it just for that.
Were doing reading raves to promote the book. IRL is what the programs called. Its just like huge DJs and books. Like, can you make them read? I think its doable. I dont think publishing knows how to do it. I dont think parents know how to do it.
So you want to make reading cool?
Kind of. What if Im somehow the guy to do it?
What are your favorite books?
I love Shel Silverstein, and not only because my mom fucked him. Mostly, Im the type to read 100 listicles. Like, what kind of bagel is Rihanna? You know what I mean? One-hundred times Rihanna ate fruit. Im not reading enough books.
No ones reading enough books.
Maybe now? That would fucking weird. To get a fucking 17-year-old whos over it to sit down and read an entire book? I mean I put in some stuff to break up the chapters, like you can color in a picture of Tyrese. I mean, I dont want you to have to read too much.
Illustration by Max Fleishman
Popular on The Daily Dot
I went to the Rentboy liquidation sale, and all I got was this amazing escort swag
After a massive federal raid, Rentboy had to sell its entire office on Craigslist to pay its lawyers.
By Mary Emily O'Hara — November 02, 2015
from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/19/the-fat-jewaes-money-pizza-respect-is-the-worst-book-iaeve-ever-read/
from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/165493432272
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Text
The Fat Jew’s ‘Money Pizza Respect’ is the worst book I’ve ever read
I wish I liked the Fat Jews new book. It would make a far more interesting piece if he exceeded our expectations. No one I talked to expected it to be good. I bet he didnt even write it, said one friend. I bet he had his interns write it.
To contextualize this for people who arent on the Internet all the time, Josh The Fat Jew Ostrovsky became the center of controversy when he was accused of stealing memes and jokes from comedians this summer. Ostrovsky had been doing this for years, and amassed millions of Instagram followers with his admittedly excellent meme aggregating skills. But comedians took a stand when he signed with the talent agency CAA in August.
Upon reading Money Pizza Respect, there is no doubt in my mind that the unfortunately titled book is penned by the Fat Jew himself; I confidently assert that MoneyPizza Respect is singlehandedly the worst book I have ever read.
His actual sense of humorand Im talking about humor, not the memes he aggregatesis painfully abject. He relies on a Tucker Max-esque style of storytelling, glorifying cocaine and alcohol abuse and fucking his groupies, who all embody a different type of crazy girl stereotype.
In a chapter ironically titled The Eleven Commandments of Not Being the Worst Person Ever, he warns readers that if you aggressively and frequently talk about your sex life, people will think youre gay. When you tell me that you tackled a slam pig and stuffed her axe wound, he writes, I assume that your actual goal is having anal sex with men. Ostrovsky makes sure to note that the only exception to this rule is Dan Bilzerian, who has literally thrown a woman off his roof, breaking her foot, and been accused of kicking another woman in the face.
Money Pizza Respect is laced with homophobic comments. He writes a note to P. Diddy: Sorry for outing you as a homosexual. Im pretty sure you are, but Im sorry. Theres also a healthy dose of sexism, describing his female groupies as a bunch of fours and fives who have giant lady hands hate their dads. To complete the trifecta, he also manages to be transphobic, referring to transgender women as trannies in a chapter chronicling his brothers bachelor party. (When his brother and friends found out the strippers who were giving them lap dances were trans, they left the club immediately.)
Before I met Ostrovsky, I was confused about how he was so successful, especially after reading his book, where he brags about his selfish and generally gross behavior at every possible moment, proudly displays pictures of him wearing a thong made out of beef jerky, and writes things like, Cocaine is the greatest gift the world has ever seen.
When I sat down with him at a press junket, located at an arcade in Chinatown, I immediately understood why hes garnered so much success. He is unfortunately charming and is actually a naturally funny person. Hes like the cool, mean boy in 8th grade, the type who introduced pot to all your friends and made fun of girls for being ugly or not having boobs yet. The type who definitely bullied me, and yet I tirelessly tried to gain his affection.
During our interview, Ostrovsky remained on the defensive, masterful at answering my questions with non-answers. He is somebody who has never taken life seriously, which is perhaps not too difficult for a straight, white, affluent male. He is fundamentally interested in his conception of fun, and hopes youll join him for the ride. If not, fuck off.
Its not that I began to like Ostrovsky or his book any more after meeting him, but I went from hating him to feeling an iota of pity for him. His flamboyant and unapologetic immaturity, his bratty affect: This is what has brought him success, and what I imagine will be his inevitable downfall.
So my approach for this interview, because I know a lot of people have been shitting on you, is to not shit on you.
No ones been shitting on me.
I was curious about how that affected you emotionally, and how you felt about getting blasted by the media.
It was definitely a shitty situation. Im of the Internet, so its like a lot of people screaming about things. I respect trolling. I respect people screaming at one another, which is why the Internet is so fucking great. I definitely didnt take it personally. It was also something that needed to get talked about. People were not on the same page. Like a 38-year-old comedy writer and a 16-year-old Filipino millennial were not seeing the issue the same way.
I try to look at it like I was the face of the whole thing. I mean the Internet is a giant, lawless fuckin thing. Sometimes we need some rules But not too many. Because that would be weird. No parents. But you know, sometimes people get pissed. I obviously see it from the 16-year-old Filipino millennial side. I dont look for credit on my stuff and I dont ever watermark or anything like that, but I also get the other side too. Im old enough to understand both sides. I just want everyone to be happy so were fuckin partying.
Instagram for fucking photos of dogs playing volleyball in sunglasses and iguanas surfing. I just want to have everyone get heard, fix the problem, and then get back to surfing iguanas. It didnt rock me emotionally because I just saw it as something that needed to be discussed. It definitely got dangerous and exciting at some points. People just get so crazy, theres a portion of people who dont even know what theyre screaming about. I got chased by TMZ. Some guy followed me around a Duane Reade recording my phone call. That was tight.
You liked that?
I kinda felt like Leo , for like a second. It was also scary. No one wants that life. I was trying to look at it like this is a conversation that needed to be had. I didnt look at it as being shit on. The Internet is more important to me than my family or anything. I would love to be with the Internet, have sex with the Internet, I love the Internet. Now its a better place.
Why was it important for you to celebrate drugs, specifically cocaine, in your book?
Its a mixed bag. I refer to it as the best and worst thing ever. Part of the ethos of this book is that its a how-to guide in that its like I dont know what you should be doing but I know what you shouldnt be doing. Ive seen every horrible thing. I basically think you read this book and you dont do coke. Because youre like, its gonna make me unbearable. Like my breath is gonna smell like a diaper and get into a super intense conversation about stuff I dont even care about.
I think it depends on how old the reader is. For me, Ive done coke so I understood more where you were coming from in that it can be great and terrible at the same time. From a teenagers standpoint, it might just look really cool.
It depends. Im pretty explicit that its been responsible for the greatest things that ever happened, but also some of the most horrendous things, too. I think its more self-reflective than it is encouraging.
Your book is provocative is many ways. People are going to interpret some of the content as transphobic and homophobic. I was thinking of the chapter where you refer to trans women as trannies.
I dont know what youre specifically referring to.
You wrote about tranny strippers. Thats a contentious word. Many trans people have spoken out about how hurtful they find that term to be. I was curious about how you would respond to those critics.
is a factual account of what happened. Youre talking about an actual pejorative word?
Yeah. Its a slur. There were a bunch of moments in the book where I read something and immediately thought about how angry it would make social justice activists on the Internet.
Social justice people are angry at everything.
I was wondering if you included some things specifically to be provocative.
No, definitely not. First of all, any social justice person can come at me at any time. I literally have more transgender friends who will vouch for me than anyone. They self-identify as trannies. Ask a transgender who is not a nerd from the Internet how they identify, and I bet you will find hundreds who identify as trannies.
I know transgender folks who identify that way. Its like the N-word. If they call themselves that, its OK. But having a cis person is a different story.
Any person who would find offense in that kind of minutia is not someone who should be reading this book.
Its not your audience, thats probably true.
That shouldnt be anyones audience, as far Im concerned.
As I was reading your book, I was thinking about your crazy drug and sex stories as they relate to Tucker Maxs stories from I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Was he somebody who influenced you?
No, thats like bro culture stuff. This is completely different.
Tonally, there were similarities.
Ive never read it, but I also think that in terms of this book, like Ive been living performance art long enough to write a book full of debaucherous stories, but I wanted to go with more pathos, truth. From what I understand from Tucker Maxs stuff, he doesnt really go into too much stuff like that. Not all the stories here are particularly turnt up, as far as Im concerned. There are some that are honest family stories, not every story is about partying.
But a lot of them are.
We can go through it When I was writing it, putting in some emotion and truth, and some real feeling on it, like talking about my mom having sex with Shel Silverstein and being a 9-year-old child actor diva. Shit like that, to me, that is not the same as walking around a bar with a breathalyzer . I dont not relate to it, but Ive never read any of his stuff.
Ostrovsky as a child actor Josh Ostrovsky
Do you differentiate between the Fat Jew as your performative character and yourself as Josh?
No. I dont go home at night and unscrew the hairection , sit down, and listen to This American Life and be like, Oh, what a hard day at work! Being the Fat Jew! No, its all one in the same. To me, that would be disingenuous. I was doing this stuff long before there was anywhere to share it, long before anyone knew about it. Ten years ago, people in New York would be like, Oh thats the Fat Jew, the guy who does crazy stuff. It wasnt something I created and cultivated in order to share on social media for the masses.
But this is your career, this is your passion, but a lot of artists and actors differentiate between their performative self, which is still their self, and who they are when theyre not performing.
Im not an artist or an actor. Im neither.
How do you identify?
Im the only one whos really just going for it. Im genuinely making it up as I go along. I could start a ros company and that could become a real thing. Im about to do the worlds first EDM cologne.
What is that gonna smell like?
I dont know. Thats a good question. Like I dont even know what that means but Im gonna do it. Its 2015. Anything is possible. The world is so ridiculous at this point. I might open a yoga ashram in Toronto. Who knows? Im one of the only people who doesnt consider anything on or off limits. I dont think that it can be defined. We have this human need to compartmentalize, to be like, What are you? But I dont know.
I guess its my job to say, as a writer trying to make sense of what you do.
I dont think theres anything to make sense of. I dont know. What do you think I do?
I think youre a content creator and performer.
Thats vague. But yeah. Im not not. But thats what Im saying. I like to keep people guessing, keep people off kilter. If people think Im a comedian, I will move in a totally different direction and start making cologne. I wanna make people go, What the fuck? Keeping people guessing, keeping genuine conversation going about me, whether its, I dont want to say the word negative, but whatever its gonna be, thats what I am. A conversation starter? I dont know.
Tastemaker?
Conversation piece? Idiot? All of the above?
Whats your goal with your book? Why do you do what you do? Aside from the fact that you just want to do it.
The end goal with the book is that I think I can get some turnt-up 18-year-old to read. Thats the challenge, like, can you get fuckin some kids to read and think its really fuckin chill? Is that doable? Ill literally do it just for that.
Were doing reading raves to promote the book. IRL is what the programs called. Its just like huge DJs and books. Like, can you make them read? I think its doable. I dont think publishing knows how to do it. I dont think parents know how to do it.
So you want to make reading cool?
Kind of. What if Im somehow the guy to do it?
What are your favorite books?
I love Shel Silverstein, and not only because my mom fucked him. Mostly, Im the type to read 100 listicles. Like, what kind of bagel is Rihanna? You know what I mean? One-hundred times Rihanna ate fruit. Im not reading enough books.
No ones reading enough books.
Maybe now? That would fucking weird. To get a fucking 17-year-old whos over it to sit down and read an entire book? I mean I put in some stuff to break up the chapters, like you can color in a picture of Tyrese. I mean, I dont want you to have to read too much.
Illustration by Max Fleishman
Popular on The Daily Dot
I went to the Rentboy liquidation sale, and all I got was this amazing escort swag
After a massive federal raid, Rentboy had to sell its entire office on Craigslist to pay its lawyers.
By Mary Emily O'Hara — November 02, 2015
from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/19/the-fat-jewaes-money-pizza-respect-is-the-worst-book-iaeve-ever-read/
0 notes
Text
The Fat Jew’s ‘Money Pizza Respect’ is the worst book I’ve ever read
I wish I liked the Fat Jews new book. It would make a far more interesting piece if he exceeded our expectations. No one I talked to expected it to be good. I bet he didnt even write it, said one friend. I bet he had his interns write it.
To contextualize this for people who arent on the Internet all the time, Josh The Fat Jew Ostrovsky became the center of controversy when he was accused of stealing memes and jokes from comedians this summer. Ostrovsky had been doing this for years, and amassed millions of Instagram followers with his admittedly excellent meme aggregating skills. But comedians took a stand when he signed with the talent agency CAA in August.
Upon reading Money Pizza Respect, there is no doubt in my mind that the unfortunately titled book is penned by the Fat Jew himself; I confidently assert that MoneyPizza Respect is singlehandedly the worst book I have ever read.
His actual sense of humorand Im talking about humor, not the memes he aggregatesis painfully abject. He relies on a Tucker Max-esque style of storytelling, glorifying cocaine and alcohol abuse and fucking his groupies, who all embody a different type of crazy girl stereotype.
In a chapter ironically titled The Eleven Commandments of Not Being the Worst Person Ever, he warns readers that if you aggressively and frequently talk about your sex life, people will think youre gay. When you tell me that you tackled a slam pig and stuffed her axe wound, he writes, I assume that your actual goal is having anal sex with men. Ostrovsky makes sure to note that the only exception to this rule is Dan Bilzerian, who has literally thrown a woman off his roof, breaking her foot, and been accused of kicking another woman in the face.
Money Pizza Respect is laced with homophobic comments. He writes a note to P. Diddy: Sorry for outing you as a homosexual. Im pretty sure you are, but Im sorry. Theres also a healthy dose of sexism, describing his female groupies as a bunch of fours and fives who have giant lady hands hate their dads. To complete the trifecta, he also manages to be transphobic, referring to transgender women as trannies in a chapter chronicling his brothers bachelor party. (When his brother and friends found out the strippers who were giving them lap dances were trans, they left the club immediately.)
Before I met Ostrovsky, I was confused about how he was so successful, especially after reading his book, where he brags about his selfish and generally gross behavior at every possible moment, proudly displays pictures of him wearing a thong made out of beef jerky, and writes things like, Cocaine is the greatest gift the world has ever seen.
When I sat down with him at a press junket, located at an arcade in Chinatown, I immediately understood why hes garnered so much success. He is unfortunately charming and is actually a naturally funny person. Hes like the cool, mean boy in 8th grade, the type who introduced pot to all your friends and made fun of girls for being ugly or not having boobs yet. The type who definitely bullied me, and yet I tirelessly tried to gain his affection.
During our interview, Ostrovsky remained on the defensive, masterful at answering my questions with non-answers. He is somebody who has never taken life seriously, which is perhaps not too difficult for a straight, white, affluent male. He is fundamentally interested in his conception of fun, and hopes youll join him for the ride. If not, fuck off.
Its not that I began to like Ostrovsky or his book any more after meeting him, but I went from hating him to feeling an iota of pity for him. His flamboyant and unapologetic immaturity, his bratty affect: This is what has brought him success, and what I imagine will be his inevitable downfall.
So my approach for this interview, because I know a lot of people have been shitting on you, is to not shit on you.
No ones been shitting on me.
I was curious about how that affected you emotionally, and how you felt about getting blasted by the media.
It was definitely a shitty situation. Im of the Internet, so its like a lot of people screaming about things. I respect trolling. I respect people screaming at one another, which is why the Internet is so fucking great. I definitely didnt take it personally. It was also something that needed to get talked about. People were not on the same page. Like a 38-year-old comedy writer and a 16-year-old Filipino millennial were not seeing the issue the same way.
I try to look at it like I was the face of the whole thing. I mean the Internet is a giant, lawless fuckin thing. Sometimes we need some rules But not too many. Because that would be weird. No parents. But you know, sometimes people get pissed. I obviously see it from the 16-year-old Filipino millennial side. I dont look for credit on my stuff and I dont ever watermark or anything like that, but I also get the other side too. Im old enough to understand both sides. I just want everyone to be happy so were fuckin partying.
Instagram for fucking photos of dogs playing volleyball in sunglasses and iguanas surfing. I just want to have everyone get heard, fix the problem, and then get back to surfing iguanas. It didnt rock me emotionally because I just saw it as something that needed to be discussed. It definitely got dangerous and exciting at some points. People just get so crazy, theres a portion of people who dont even know what theyre screaming about. I got chased by TMZ. Some guy followed me around a Duane Reade recording my phone call. That was tight.
You liked that?
I kinda felt like Leo , for like a second. It was also scary. No one wants that life. I was trying to look at it like this is a conversation that needed to be had. I didnt look at it as being shit on. The Internet is more important to me than my family or anything. I would love to be with the Internet, have sex with the Internet, I love the Internet. Now its a better place.
Why was it important for you to celebrate drugs, specifically cocaine, in your book?
Its a mixed bag. I refer to it as the best and worst thing ever. Part of the ethos of this book is that its a how-to guide in that its like I dont know what you should be doing but I know what you shouldnt be doing. Ive seen every horrible thing. I basically think you read this book and you dont do coke. Because youre like, its gonna make me unbearable. Like my breath is gonna smell like a diaper and get into a super intense conversation about stuff I dont even care about.
I think it depends on how old the reader is. For me, Ive done coke so I understood more where you were coming from in that it can be great and terrible at the same time. From a teenagers standpoint, it might just look really cool.
It depends. Im pretty explicit that its been responsible for the greatest things that ever happened, but also some of the most horrendous things, too. I think its more self-reflective than it is encouraging.
Your book is provocative is many ways. People are going to interpret some of the content as transphobic and homophobic. I was thinking of the chapter where you refer to trans women as trannies.
I dont know what youre specifically referring to.
You wrote about tranny strippers. Thats a contentious word. Many trans people have spoken out about how hurtful they find that term to be. I was curious about how you would respond to those critics.
is a factual account of what happened. Youre talking about an actual pejorative word?
Yeah. Its a slur. There were a bunch of moments in the book where I read something and immediately thought about how angry it would make social justice activists on the Internet.
Social justice people are angry at everything.
I was wondering if you included some things specifically to be provocative.
No, definitely not. First of all, any social justice person can come at me at any time. I literally have more transgender friends who will vouch for me than anyone. They self-identify as trannies. Ask a transgender who is not a nerd from the Internet how they identify, and I bet you will find hundreds who identify as trannies.
I know transgender folks who identify that way. Its like the N-word. If they call themselves that, its OK. But having a cis person is a different story.
Any person who would find offense in that kind of minutia is not someone who should be reading this book.
Its not your audience, thats probably true.
That shouldnt be anyones audience, as far Im concerned.
As I was reading your book, I was thinking about your crazy drug and sex stories as they relate to Tucker Maxs stories from I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell. Was he somebody who influenced you?
No, thats like bro culture stuff. This is completely different.
Tonally, there were similarities.
Ive never read it, but I also think that in terms of this book, like Ive been living performance art long enough to write a book full of debaucherous stories, but I wanted to go with more pathos, truth. From what I understand from Tucker Maxs stuff, he doesnt really go into too much stuff like that. Not all the stories here are particularly turnt up, as far as Im concerned. There are some that are honest family stories, not every story is about partying.
But a lot of them are.
We can go through it When I was writing it, putting in some emotion and truth, and some real feeling on it, like talking about my mom having sex with Shel Silverstein and being a 9-year-old child actor diva. Shit like that, to me, that is not the same as walking around a bar with a breathalyzer . I dont not relate to it, but Ive never read any of his stuff.
Ostrovsky as a child actor Josh Ostrovsky
Do you differentiate between the Fat Jew as your performative character and yourself as Josh?
No. I dont go home at night and unscrew the hairection , sit down, and listen to This American Life and be like, Oh, what a hard day at work! Being the Fat Jew! No, its all one in the same. To me, that would be disingenuous. I was doing this stuff long before there was anywhere to share it, long before anyone knew about it. Ten years ago, people in New York would be like, Oh thats the Fat Jew, the guy who does crazy stuff. It wasnt something I created and cultivated in order to share on social media for the masses.
But this is your career, this is your passion, but a lot of artists and actors differentiate between their performative self, which is still their self, and who they are when theyre not performing.
Im not an artist or an actor. Im neither.
How do you identify?
Im the only one whos really just going for it. Im genuinely making it up as I go along. I could start a ros company and that could become a real thing. Im about to do the worlds first EDM cologne.
What is that gonna smell like?
I dont know. Thats a good question. Like I dont even know what that means but Im gonna do it. Its 2015. Anything is possible. The world is so ridiculous at this point. I might open a yoga ashram in Toronto. Who knows? Im one of the only people who doesnt consider anything on or off limits. I dont think that it can be defined. We have this human need to compartmentalize, to be like, What are you? But I dont know.
I guess its my job to say, as a writer trying to make sense of what you do.
I dont think theres anything to make sense of. I dont know. What do you think I do?
I think youre a content creator and performer.
Thats vague. But yeah. Im not not. But thats what Im saying. I like to keep people guessing, keep people off kilter. If people think Im a comedian, I will move in a totally different direction and start making cologne. I wanna make people go, What the fuck? Keeping people guessing, keeping genuine conversation going about me, whether its, I dont want to say the word negative, but whatever its gonna be, thats what I am. A conversation starter? I dont know.
Tastemaker?
Conversation piece? Idiot? All of the above?
Whats your goal with your book? Why do you do what you do? Aside from the fact that you just want to do it.
The end goal with the book is that I think I can get some turnt-up 18-year-old to read. Thats the challenge, like, can you get fuckin some kids to read and think its really fuckin chill? Is that doable? Ill literally do it just for that.
Were doing reading raves to promote the book. IRL is what the programs called. Its just like huge DJs and books. Like, can you make them read? I think its doable. I dont think publishing knows how to do it. I dont think parents know how to do it.
So you want to make reading cool?
Kind of. What if Im somehow the guy to do it?
What are your favorite books?
I love Shel Silverstein, and not only because my mom fucked him. Mostly, Im the type to read 100 listicles. Like, what kind of bagel is Rihanna? You know what I mean? One-hundred times Rihanna ate fruit. Im not reading enough books.
No ones reading enough books.
Maybe now? That would fucking weird. To get a fucking 17-year-old whos over it to sit down and read an entire book? I mean I put in some stuff to break up the chapters, like you can color in a picture of Tyrese. I mean, I dont want you to have to read too much.
Illustration by Max Fleishman
Popular on The Daily Dot
I went to the Rentboy liquidation sale, and all I got was this amazing escort swag
After a massive federal raid, Rentboy had to sell its entire office on Craigslist to pay its lawyers.
By Mary Emily O'Hara — November 02, 2015
source http://allofbeer.com/2017/09/19/the-fat-jewaes-money-pizza-respect-is-the-worst-book-iaeve-ever-read/
from All of Beer http://allofbeer.blogspot.com/2017/09/the-fat-jewas-money-pizza-respect-is.html
0 notes
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