#i literally wrote this )

[icarusredwings]

thoughts on wade being insecure of his skin?? oml LOGAN KISSING ALL OVER HIS BODY AND PRAISING HIM AAAAHHHHHHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCHH OH MY GOD

I already have a fic of this called Scent, and it's literally RANCH HUSBANDS Poolverine with Laura and puppins living with them, too. Logan does wades make up after forcibly taking it off because he doesn't like the smell of the chemicals and then kisses him to death.

And dont forget, Buttercup the Horse and Buttercream the Pony!

[salsakiyoomi]

“do you think we're soulmates in every universe?” 

you ask, snuggling up to sukuna, on your king sized bed — you had been served dinner and sukuna bas gone through his reports and duties as king, and now it was his sacred time with you.

“we aren't in this one.” he scoffs, wrapping his arm around you.

you pout at him, mildly offended but you expected nothing less from the ‘heartless’ king of curses, “what makes you say so?”

“i don't believes in such foolish nonesense.” he says simply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“it's not foolish nonesense.” you argue, tracing lines on his chest absentmindedly, admiring his sculpted form.

“and what makes you say that?” he asks, mocking your earlier question.

you smile at him, “i mean, do you not feel a connection between us? a binding of souls? i know you love me and i’m sure you know that we are meant to be in every universe.”

“don't put words in my mouth, woman.” he huffs, caressing your shoulder.

you laugh — you know that while he might have not said it before, he most definitely thinks and feels it.

and it's true, sukuna had first fallen for you for your otherworldly beauty, and had chosen you for marriage, and that was that for a while until he started falling for you.

you, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle when you talk about something that you love, the way you always showered him with loving words and affection that was always so foreign to him.

but he slowly started getting used to it, even reciprocating it in his own way.

“whatever you say, ryo.” you finally say, smiling sheepishly at him before blowing out the candle and rolling on your side, “goodnight.”

“hm.” he huffs, wrapping all four arms around you before slowly drifting into sleep, his mind swarmed with thoughts about how your souls could possibly be tied.

foolish thoughts, for him maybe, but maybe it was also true

because, sometime, centuries later, in the middle of tokyo in a small business coffeeshop, sukuna meets you — the all time business ceo, falls for the loving and bubbly batista who always left him notes on his morning coffee.

and he falls for you all over again.

[bonipops]

hatsune mexiku!!! 🇲🇽

[drmajalis]

Brb going to wotc to get this card printed and included in every pre-con

Let's just say I had a bad experience at mtg today.

[acorviart]

everyone should attempt an artisan craft at some point in their life because it would cut down the number of comments questioning why handmade goods like ceramics or textile craft or woodworking are so expensive

and this is an unrealistic expectation, but I think the attempt should include seeing through to the end at least one "finished" item, no matter how clumsy or lumpy your first attempts might be. like to me, there's a huge difference in perspective between attempting to learn how to crochet or throw a pot for a few days, acknowledging that it's harder than it looks and giving up, versus committing to finishing that scarf or clay pot you started and working on it for weeks while you painstakingly learn from your mistakes and grow attached to your project while also simultaneously hating it.

once you finish the latter, your perspective changes from "why does this crocheted blanket cost $200" to "holy shit I can't believe they're charging $200 for this crocheted blanket instead of $2000" because you may have known crocheting is hard, you may have easily agreed with the idea that "handmade goods take time and effort" even before attempting a craft, but now you know firsthand the absolute time sink it takes to make things. like yeah dude, that one item took you 2 months to make and probably wasn't even an ultra complex item if it was the first thing you made, now imagine attaching an hourly wage to that time to calculate the cost (and this is ignoring every nuance of the artistic element and master crafters being able to work faster/charge higher because of their years and years of experience)

anyway this rant has been motivated by a comment I saw on someone else's ceramic post asking why a mug was $60 and they understand it's handmade but $60 just seems overpriced, and bro do you know how long ceramics take to make. that mug probably took at minimum 3 weeks between how long it takes to throw the mug, dry partially, trim the mug, dry fully, bisque fire, wait a day for the kiln to cool, sand and paint and glaze, glaze fire, wait a day for the kiln to cool, take product photography of the mug, write description and list the mug online for sale, im not even including the skill needed to complete all these steps without the mug literally exploding or collapsing while also making it an appealing piece of art, aaaaaaaaaaaaa

[aerequets]

(part 1)

(short comic) (you can otherwise search 'spy x pta' on my profile)

MY GOODNESS. it's been a hot minute since i posted the first part and i guess i just couldn't SHUT UP because this is FOURTEEN PAGES LONG. FOURTEEN. you can even see some pages where the linework is slightly different because i drew it like 6-ish weeks ago, that's how long this has been cooking. drawing in general has been hard lately because of time constraints, BUT i am so happy i finished this. this is like my fav project even tho it isnt as popular, but who cares!!!!! POPULAR IN MY HEART

[la-pheacienne]

I'm reading the lord of the rings and I'm once again amazed at how... good most characters are. Like, they are genuinely good people. They are a bunch of kindhearted, gracious, caring people, coming together under adverse circumstances and trying to figure things out and find a solution and support each other through it all. Like Frodo and Sam meet Faramir and Faramir is a bit suspicious at first and kind of implies Frodo may be a spy, and then when he hears his story and he's like Frodo, I pressed you so hard at first. Forgive me! It was unwise in such an hour and place. And this blows.my.mind. He wasn't even particularly mean or threatening to him in the beginning, he's just such a kind, considerate man, recognizing the kindness and honesty of another man. And they're all like that. Even Gollum starts slowly changing (for a short while) when he encounters Frodo because that's the thing about kindness and humility and grace, they are contagious. They transform people, even a creature like Gollum cannot be immune to that. Like, you may consider all this simple and basic and I get it but, hear me out. It is quite rare to see that in modern media and it is also pretty difficult to pull off in a way that is not corny and simplistic. It is mind blowing that you actually don't have to present the entire palette of human cruelty and vice in order to tell a compelling story, contrary to popular belief. Lotr does the exact opposite, and it is just beautiful and it warms my heart. Especially taking into consideration tolkien's pretty grim growing-up experience, him being a double orphan without a home, raised between an orphanage and a priest and having no family apart from his brother and then the war and then he almost dies and then he's poor as hell and then a second war and it all makes sense somehow. He writes to his wife who is also an orphan two days before the marriage "the next few years will bring us joy and content and love and sweetness such as could not be if we hadn't first been two homeless children and had found one another after long waiting" and, yes, yes! The love and sweetness just radiate from his work, the entire lotr series is a little radiant bubble of hope and love and grace that he imagined in his head to deal with a dismal reality and then he just gave that to the world, and isn't that what imagination and art is all about after all?

[buckiverse]

☆ warnings: mdni, this is literally just a cock analysis for sylus, zayne, and caleb

☆ a/n: SYLUS HOLD MY HAND—CALEB IS ABOUT TO DRAG ME AWAY!

rafayel and xavier ver.

S8GSBTV - #b0685a

As we all know, Sylus is tall, with a broad, muscular frame and an imposing set of shoulders. He’s strong—insanely strong. The man boxes, for god’s sake. I would hate to take a liver shot from him; he might accidentally send me straight to the afterlife. He’s in phenomenal shape, with stamina to match—because, of course, it’s a requirement for his sport.

And his cock? Well, it follows suit. A solid eight inches (20.32 cm), and yes, he’s a shower. I mean, have you seen that perfect print in his pants??? He doesn’t even know where to put all that. It’s big—long, thick, girthy. No wonder he has a size kink. And let’s be real, so do you. The stretch is delicious, always leaving you working to take him all the way.

The head? A deep, rich brown (go look at the hex code <3). His pubic hair? Trimmed, but left a little longer—just how he likes it. And side note? He loves when you do the same. Says he wants to "explore the jungle." Oh, and let’s not forget: it’s straight and a slightly darker gray than his hair. Perfection.

And the veins—the veins. His cock is thick with them, pulsing, prominent. The most sensitive part? That sweet little slit. Run your tongue along it, and he will hiss, grip your hair, and growl something like, “Don’t do that unless you want me to come in your mouth, kitten.”

And, of course, you’ll keep doing it anyway. Hehehe.

Z7LSLCGBPLT - #9C524F

As we all know, Zayne is tall, with a lean yet well-built frame and broad shoulders. He’s strong—moderately muscular—but more refined in his strength. Being a doctor, he has a natural responsibility to stay in shape and take excellent care of himself.

And his cock? It follows suit. A solid seven point three inches (18.542 cm), and he’s a grower. The print in his pants might be deceiving at first, but don’t be fooled—it’s big. Not just long, but with an ideal girth. The best part? It leans slightly to the left, and when he’s inside you, he knows how to move his hips just right, angling to hit that perfect, sensitive spot.

The head? A beautiful brownish pink. His pubic hair? Trimmed low—because he understands the importance of keeping some. He’ll never go completely bare, and honestly? He prefers when you don’t either. And yes, it’s perfectly straight.

Unlike some, his cock isn’t overly veined—but what it lacks in texture, it more than makes up for in sensitivity. The head? Insanely responsive. Pull back his foreskin, drag your tongue along his frenulum, and just like that, he might lose control—maybe even come all over your face.

C7GGPTV - #DF9796

As we all know, Caleb is tall, with a lean yet powerfully built frame. He’s easily the most muscular of the bunch—his body honed to perfection. Being a fighter pilot demands peak physical fitness, not just for endurance but for absolute control in the cockpit.

And his cock? It follows suit. A solid seven inches (17.78 cm), and he’s a grower. The print in his pants might not always give it away, but trust—it’s big. Long, with just a bit more girth than average, making every inch of it something to savor.

The head? A gorgeous pink. His pubic hair? Trimmed low for convenience, though he’ll go completely bare if that’s what you prefer. Naturally, though, he keeps it neat, with a slight, loose curl to it.

And let’s talk about that vein. A single, prominent one that runs up the length of his pretty shaft—one he loves when you trace with your tongue. Oh, and let’s be clear—he’s uncut. Don’t care, won’t argue on that point <33

☆

btw this is what the codes mean (excuse my behavior because now that I actually typed it out i realize how crazy i look rn):

S8GSBTV: sylus-8inch-girthy-shower-brown-trimed-veiny

Z7LSLCGBPLT: zayne-7inch-left slant-long cock-grower-brownish pink-light trim

C7GGPTV: caleb-7inch-grithy-grower-pink-trimed-veiny

[rafey-baby]

trinket

rafe thinks his maid is just the sweetest little thing...  

prince!rafe x maid!reader 

c/w: rafe being a menace, him flirting (?) w her, some royal cameron family angst ig, brief descriptions of him having sex w another woman, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k

also this is by no means historically accurate which is why i’m not gonna name any specific era for this xx

moodboard & introduction

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Every mid-December, the palace comes alive in an entirely novel way with the bustling preparations for the annual winter ball that the king and queen host to celebrate ‘another wonderful year’.

The once quiet and calm castle transforms into something colorful and vivid with the mouthwatering smell of cakes and pastries cooking in the ovens of the royal kitchen, along with maids and other servants whirling around the long hallways as they place intricate decorations and shiny ribbons all over the broad staircases and windows. 

She’s grateful she doesn’t have to partake in the hustle and bustle all that much since her primary duties include taking care of the prince and ensuring he has everything and anything he could possibly need.  

Although right now, she sort of wishes she could be stringing up polished ornaments or garnishing elegant baked goods because apparently, being the prince’s personal maid sometimes means sitting quietly in his bedchambers (as per his request to keep him company while he’s reading) with her own thoughts and the sounds outside the door her only source of entertainment.  

Therefore, she’s elated when he suddenly turns to face her in his armchair— flitting his eyes over to her from the hefty book that seems to have made him exasperated rather than enthralled.  

“Will you join me for a walk? All this noise is makin’ m’head hurt.”

There’s enthusiasm in the nod of her head; a yearning to see the fresh layer of snow covering the trees and painting the entire kingdom with its powdery whiteness— the aftermath of last night’s blizzard. She doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful than the crystalline snowfall glittering under the touch of the afternoon sun— or maybe a certain pair of aquamarine eyes, but that’s beside the point.  

“That would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” she easily agrees. 

“How many times do I have to tell you how much I despise that name? There’s no need to use it when s’just me,” he scolds her before he’s straightening up and stretching out his arms over his head. 

“My apologies, it’s a habit,” she rises to her feet as well; trying her hardest not to let her eyes linger on the sliver of his stomach peeking out from underneath the silky fabric of his shirt. 

“I don’t want your apologies, want you to use my name,” he says before stepping closer— standing tall before her and forcing her to blink up at him in order to meet his eyes. “Go on, sweetheart, say it,” he practically orders; eager eyes fixed on her face.  

She hesitates under the sudden attention. He’s always seemed so fascinated by her and she doesn’t know why.  

“Um…Rafe.”  

He lets out a hum of approval. “That’s good. You ready to leave?” 

“Y— yes, uh, Rafe.”  

“Good job. Not so difficult, is it?” he coos at her almost mockingly— fingertips grazing the skin of her cheek when he tucks a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear. 

She merely shakes her head— a warmth dusting over the apples of her cheeks when his touch lingers on the side of her face afterwards. And for a moment, she thinks she’s going to drown in the lagoons of his eyes, but then he clears his throat and offers the palm of his hand for her to take.  

And it’s rather unusual for someone of his status to do; a prince who’s bound to wear the crown one day holding his maid’s hand isn’t exactly something that’s written in any book regarding the royal etiquette. However, he’s never been one to allow for dreadful rules and traditions to dictate his behavior, especially not towards her.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

“Are you looking forward to the winter ball?” she asks when they stop by the stables to check up on his horse, Jupiter.  

“You know I hate dancin’,” he mutters out as he watches its teeth grind on the carrot he brought with him.  

She smiles because she does know, before letting out a wistful sigh. “I wish I could attend.”

“You do? Why?” he’s perplexed by her enthusiasm towards something he considers as more tedious than anything— having to plaster on a smile for an entire night and socialize with people he doesn’t necessarily care for in order to humor his father never being something he’s particularly taken delight in.  

Especially when Sarah is going to be the one receiving all of their father’s attention anyway. Not that he cares (he does) but he would appreciate it, if for once in his life, his old man would show him even an ounce of the care he seems to so easily shower his sisters in.  

“Well, I’d love to wear a ball gown, but mostly for the food,” her feather-light voice brings him back to the moment.  

“I’ll make sure to bring you a plate ‘n you can eat it in my room then, yeah?” he promises as he runs his fingers through Jupiter’s black main.  

“You would do that?”  

“If you promise not to tell the other maids or they’re gonna accuse you of gettin’ special treatment,” his tone is playful. 

“They already do that,” she points out. “They think we spend too much time together.” 

“And what do you think?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy your company,” she answers truthfully. After all, she has grown quite fond of Rafe throughout the years. Sometimes she just wishes he wasn’t so overwhelming, in every sense of the word. 

“Yeah?” a smirk pulls at the side of his mouth, seemingly pleased with her answer. 

She’s certain he’s well aware of the effect he has on her— the effect he has on everyone. And she thinks that he enjoys it; relishes in toying with her for his own amusement simply because he can. He can practically do anything he wants since his father is oftentimes gone for long periods of time; fulfilling his duties for the kingdom and whatnot.  

And she knows Rafe doesn’t particularly mind the fact that his father is rarely home because he’s always been hard on him, much harder than on his sisters because whether he likes it or not, he’s set off to be the new king one day. And his reputation of having female guests over more often than not whenever his father is away doesn’t necessarily help with gaining his approval.

After all, rumor travels fast around the palace.  

Rafe once admitted to her that he often felt like a disappointment, and that the pressure of everyone’s expectations sometimes made him wish he was nothing more than a stableman. After all, he does get along with horses better than he ever has with his family— it’s not exactly a secret amongst the royal court.  

“Would you wanna go for a ride with me? Think Jupiter’s gettin’ bored,” he suddenly asks.  

“Oh, I would love to but I’ve never, um, ridden a horse before,” she timidly admits. 

“No? You wanna know how it feels? You could jus’ sit behind me, don’t need to do anythin’, yeah?” he coaxes her to say yes with a seemingly sincere smile; already walking Jupiter out of its stable and leaving her no choice but to follow them outside.   

“Really?” the frosty air causes a shiver to crawl up her spine when she eyes him, hesitant.  

“Mhm. Promise nothing’s gonna happen, I’ll take care of you. ‘N I know you’ll like it, s’very freeing,” he assures her as he’s already saddling up the horse, seemingly aware that she could never refuse him of anything.  

“Okay...if you insist,” she tentatively agrees with a nod that he rewards with a beaming grin; the icy snowflakes sticking to his hair making him look like something straight out of a fairy tale.  

Then, he’s lifting her up to straddle the entirely too big of an animal that sort of still scares her— strong hands gripping onto her hips and leaving her momentarily starstruck at how effortlessly he does it; as if she weighs nothing more than the carrot Jupiter was just chewing on.  

He follows soon after, settling down in front of her with ease before looking at her over his shoulder. “Need you to hold onto me unless you wanna fall,” he instructs, seemingly reveling in the fact that he gets to be the one teaching her something new.  

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she says, gingerly setting her hands on his waist, movements uncertain.  

“Gonna need you to hold on tighter, promise I won’t bite,” he huffs out a laugh before he’s grabbing her arms and wrapping them around his middle more firmly— forcing her to fully lean against his back when the sudden clip-clopping of Jupiter’s hooves against the snow-covered cobblestone causes her to let out a surprised shriek.   

“Good?” he asks, seemingly amused at the way she’s practically clutching onto him as the cottony snow prances around them. 

She manages out a hum, wondering if he can hear her poor heart loudly thumping in her ribcage when he decides to pick up the speed some more, as if she wasn’t already terrified.  

“Rafe! Can you slow down?” she squeaks out when Jupiter seems to only accelerate further underneath them.  

“Where’s the fun in that?” he lets out a hearty chuckle in response, apparently finding amusement in her utterly frightened state while she wonders why she let herself think for even one second that he had pure intentions.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

“Y/N? Will you go look for my son? I fear he’s once again escaped his responsibilities to God knows where,” the king requests with an exasperated sigh while she’s crouching down and helping a servant clean up the sharp pieces of a shattered wine glass— the sound of laughter and dancing flourishing around them. 

And she could swear she saw Rafe conversing with a guest only a few short moments ago. However, as she looks around in an attempt to locate the missing prince, he’s nowhere to be found.  

“Right away, Your Majesty,” she’s quick to answer with a polite smile.  

“Thank you,” he nods gratefully, seemingly fed up with his son already.  

She ensures that the poor girl who accidentally cut her finger on the broken shards is not going to faint before tiptoeing up the broad flight of stairs in order to reach the higher levels of the palace— the loud music and blooming celebrations echoing around the halls. 

“Your Highness? Are you in there?” she knocks softly on the mahogany door leading to his bedroom.  

However, she isn’t granted a response. 

“Rafe?” she tries once more before pressing her ear against the wood separating her from the muffled sounds she can now hear from the other side— brows furrowing when something akin to a whimper reaches her ears.

It sounds nothing like Rafe; it has a higher pitch, something more feminine than his usual drawl. And as she stands there, contemplating whether something is wrong or if she should just leave, the volume only amplifies.

And in a moment of cloudy judgement, she finds herself pushing down on the handle.

However, she curses her curiosity the moment the door cracks open and she’s faced with the view of some woman’s naked back. Her long, beautiful hair reminds her of lady Lydia (a daughter of one of the dukes invited to the ball) with none other than the prince himself underneath her sweaty form.  

The sheets that she changed this morning are crumpled and creased around them and without the barrier of the door, she can now hear Rafe’s low grunts as well— can see how his big hands guide her movements. And they’re both panting heavily, seemingly lost in some haze— maybe the same one that forces her to stay rooted to her spot in the doorway.  

With her eyes as wide as saucers and mouth parted, she’s not entirely sure how long she stands there for. Until out of the blue, she notices Rafe’s eyes flickering over to her— a smirk tugging at his mouth when he catches her staring. 

She tries to move her legs but they won’t listen; making his lazy grin only grow in tandem with his strained groans that seem to only increase in volume as he locks his eyes with her.  

And she can’t breathe; the air clogging her lungs instead of flowing through as her dazed mind tries to get her to do something, anything to get her to leave the room but his heady gaze seems to have hypnotized her— compelled her to stay right where she is.  

All at once, a gravelly noise rumbles from his chest— his head dropping against the cushion of his fluffy pillows, seemingly reaching some sort of a peak in his search for pleasure as the woman above him begins to slow down her movements. And that’s when she’s finally able to step away; shutting the door behind her before scurrying down the stairs with bated breaths and heart pounding in her ears.

When she reaches the bottom, she accidentally stumbles into someone holding a golden serving tray— causing it to topple over to the floor with a loud clatter. 

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes before her wobbly legs are scrambling off in an attempt to locate the nearest escape route to the garden.  

And once she’s managed to make it outdoors, she feels like she can finally breathe— the crisp December wind granting her heated skin an opportunity to cool down as she sits down on one of the wooden benches with a sigh.

[mimikyuno]

the title of the new event is “with scarred/wounded hands, we are” (rough translation) while mizu5 event’s name was “where does the path of thorns go?” and and ena’s new card for the event is titled “even if i’m covered in scars” and im crying like. hermit searcher found her hermit. ena went through the path of thorns, hurting her hands making way to get to mizuki. to reach her. to bathe her in her warm light. GODDDDDD

[bluegiragi]

patience and indulgence.

early access + nsfw on patreon

--

(hey i drew this comic in collaboration with the very talented author prettyunhinged, who wrote an amazing fic to go along with it!!! please leave a comment and kudos if u read it, it's so perfect >.< but also do look at the tags first lmao )

[potatobugz]

objects loving objects baby!!!!

[looseyjuicy]

“You’re married?!” Is the hot topic of the room as everyone shows varying expressions of despair, panic, incredulousness and encouragement.

thanks, Lyds.

“E’yup!” He elongates the first syllable as he flips open a wallet that seemingly appears out of thin air, unraveling a couple feet worth of pictures. “A real keeper, if I do say so myself.”

They’re all taken at different locations with multiple poses, some risqué enough that prompts Barbara into shielding Lydia’s eyes with a scowl directed at the giddy demon.

outside of a few random ghouls, there’s only two repeating subjects. Beetlejuice, in all his disgusting, decomposed glory.

and You.

an undead man’s dream all wrapped up in various outfits that do well to accentuate your assets. upon further inspection, you don’t seem to be in any distress or making any attempts to flee.

In fact, minus the ones where you’re.. unfocused, you’re grinning from ear to ear with an arm wrapped around your ‘husband’s’ shoulders. among those are a few of you in a wedding dress and him in some ratty tux in what seems to be a Las Vegas style wedding chapel; there’s even an Elvis officiating.

it would seem that, for once, he wasn’t lying. the ghost with the most actually did get married. however, one small detail still has the Maitlands unconvinced.

“But you’re still.. you?” Adam motions to his entire form; still not alive and with even more moss that seemed to have grown on him.

Beetlejuice snickers, as if it were an inside joke only he was in on, “it wasn’t the most ‘holiest’ of unions, if you catch my drift.”

Barbara gives him a grossed-out look, mumbling a ‘really wish we didn’t.’ under her breath.

“Where’s the missus?” Lydia pipes up after prying off the cold hands still covering her face.

“Gettin’ a snack. Said she was feelin’ a bit peckish.”

the teen looks at him questionably, “we probably could’ve given her something here.”

“‘preciate the warm hospitality, kid,” he ruffles her already messy hair, earning him a smack on the hand as she tries to bat him away, “but trust me, you would not want her to eat something here.”

“What does that mean?” Barbara questions him, already sensing a trick about to unfold.

Beetlejuice just grins, answering with a simple, “she has a slight aversion to food.”

all this does is confuse the couple even more. deciding that the demon was an unreliable source, they take a closer look at the pictures to get any sort of hint.

which comes alarmingly fast when they narrow in on one with your widest smile.

a pair of sharp, pearly white fangs somehow glimmers right back at them.

[saioratral]

PARING: itoshi rin x reader

PROMPT: speak, don't keep quiet SYNOPSIS: rin really listens to you, as if he tuned everyone out just for you

WARNING: none NOTE: based on something in my morning discussion. not proofread and uh very short because i was in a hurry

the library room filled with chattering, afterall it was time to do the project.you found yourself paired with a group of kids, all of whom seemed far smarter than you'd anticipated. who else would laugh at the square root of two jokes? beside you sat itoshi rin, a student who had once been highly admired by the class before he began to shut everyone out of his life 

a list was made for the presentation topics, and it was time to vote. you had an idea you wanted to share—hoping to contribute and improve your grades—but every time you spoke up, someone cut you off or talked over you. the chattering wouldn't stop even when you tried to raise your voice 

"can you guys shut up?" rin rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "speak."

"huh?" you asked, turning to him in confusion.

"you were speaking, weren't you?"

suddenly, the room fell silent. your group mates turned to look at you, apologizing for not listening. you paused for a moment, collecting your thoughts, before sharing your idea. they seemed to like it, adding it to the list and finalizing the topic. the discussion came to an end, everyone packed up to leave.

after waving goodbye to the others, you and rin stood at the door of the room. you checked to make sure the lights were off, not wanting to get into trouble with security. you flashed rin a small smile before turning to leave.

"how are you getting home?" rin asked, glancing away, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

you turned back to the teal-haired boy, gripping your bag strap a little tighter. "i'm waiting for the bus."

"..."

"see you around," you said, starting to walk away, but rin called out and quickly caught up to you.

"i'll walk you," he said, tugging gently at your sweater. "you're a professional at getting lost."

you throw him a glare but allowed him to lead the way to the bus stop. it was a nice walk, the morning air cold as ever but you felt so warm beside him, what magic is this? 

© saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest

[jasmancer]

BLACK PUNK CRASH COURSE!!!

BLACK PUNK OGS

Death

X-Ray Spex

Bad Brains

Pure Hell

Fishbone

MODERN BLACK PUNK ARTISTS

Ho99o9

The Muslims

Pleasure Venom

Fuck U Pay Us

Big Joanie

Nova Twins

MORE NAMES TO KNOW

Tina Bell: frontwoman of the band Bam Bam, often called the Godmother of grunge because of its influence. Racism within the scene has led to her influence being pretty extensively erased but her bandmate and lifelong friend Scotty Buttocks has been working hard to counteract that by doing press and preserving their music here. Kurt fucking Cobain was their roadie

Betty Davis: 70s funk rock legend who just recently passed away. Incredibly unique performer that was way ahead of her time. Not to be confused with Bette Davis.

Sistah Grrrl Riots: A black punk collective put together in response to alienation and racism in the 90s punk and riot grrrl scenes. Organized by legends Tamar-Kali Brown, Honeychild Coleman, Maya Glick, and Simi Stone. You can read more about sistah grrrl in this article.

Ronnie Spector: Frontwoman of the Ronettes and rock n roll pioneer. Black girl groups were a huge influence on the sound of Rock n Roll as we know it from The Beatles to Led Zepplin to the Rolling Stones. She recently passed but her autobiography came out last year and it's worth the read.

READ A FUCKING BOOK

Black Diamond Queens: African American Women and Rock and Roll by Maureen Mahon

Rip It Up: The Black Experience in Rock N Roll by Kandia Crazy Horse (Anthology)

Shotgun Seamstress Zine Anthology by Osa Atoe

BONUS LINKS

POC Zine Project @poczineproject

Maya Glick's Storm fan film RAIN

Black Women in Rock Archive

IMDb for the documentary Afro-Punk (2003) currently not available for streaming in the US

[choccy-milky]

merry christmas !🎅❤️💚