#[taking more accountability maybe? not sure]

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP Prompt - To Batman

Maddie and Jack Fenton died. It was an accident, really. Jack forgot to change the filter on the portal and it exploded, taking out the whole Fenton building and half the block. Thankfully it was in the middle of the day on a Wednesday, so not many people were home. Jack and Maddie died instantly as did 3 of the 5 other casualties. 1 person died in hospital, and the single person who survived the explosion (a woman going on a jog nearby) fell into a coma with no signs of waking.

Jazz, having recently turned 18, escaped the foster system by the skin of her teeth. Instead she got financial assistance, and an apartment paid for by the government. Despite her best efforts, she was deemed incapable of taking care of Danny, only 15 at the time. He ended up in Vlad's care. As his godfather, the duty naturally fell to him, and with no way to prove all of his misdoings, Danny couldn't fight it. He tried, of course, but Vlad won. He got what he wanted.

Vlad wasted no time ruining Danny's life.

Things he did:

Immediately slapped an inhibitor bracelet on him. It's an improved version that tracks him, and shocks him on command. Having died by electricity, there was no better way to keep Danny docile.

Pulled Danny out of school under the pretence Danny himself insisted on it. That most days, the boy could hardly get out of bed.

Took any means to contact his friends and sister, thus completely isolating him.

Forced him to be his son, including legally changing his name from Daniel Fenton to Daniel Masters.

Tortured him. Without Danny able to fight back, any time he would fall out of line Vlad would subject him to terrible punishments. This included electrocuting him until he passed out, strapping him down and threatening to vivisect him, not giving him any food for long periods of time, beat him up as Plasmius and stopping him from sleeping by electrocuting him every few seconds (enough of a zap not to hurt too much but to keep him awake).

Tucker, worried for Danny, managed to hack into Vlad's cameras. He couldn't get access to the visuals without risking Vlad catching on, but the audio was pretty incriminating as is. He knew local law enforcement wouldn't do anything. Not with Vlad able to overshadow them at any given moment. So he reached out to Batman.

Okay, maybe he couldn't get to Batman. Their systems were too good. But, Bruce Wayne definitely at least knew Batman, and he was easy to get in contact with. So, he sent Bruce Wayne an email, asking him to pass it along to Batman, with an attachment of particularly bad things Vlad did to Danny. Just audio, of course, but that should be enough to get him to investigate.

---

Bruce gets a lot of emails.

He has three accounts. One accessible to the public, through which he receives fan mail, threats, and claims of pregnancy, a work email, which is designated for Wayne Enterprises matters and nothing else, and a work email, for active cases and other Batman matters. They’re all increasingly secure, each one more protected than the previous. Which is to say, people who he doesn't give access, can't reach him by his work lines.

So it's a surprise when he receives an anonymous email through his Wayne Enterprises line one Tuesday morning that has no business being in his inbox. An hour later and he tracks it down to Amity Park Illinois, but no further. Whoever encrypted it certainly skilled, but he doubts they're any match for Oracle so he sends it over to her to look over.

In the meantime he checks it for traps. There's a few attachment in seven audio files, a subject line which states "To Batman" and nothing else. Either his identity has been compromised or the sender believes the popular theory that Bruce Wayne funds the Justice League, and thus has the means to contact its members. He'll have to investigate thoroughly to make sure it's not the former.

His algorithm deems it clean so he has his secretary call Tim up to his office. Which leads to now, with his son sitting beside him at his desk, his cursor hovering over the play button and the door locked with instruction not to disturb them for the next hour (the files only add up to twenty-three minutes long, but they'll need some time to discuss). Depending on the contents, they'll leave early.

He presses play.

[ice-man-goes-bwoah]

Match maker||Franco colapinto x fem!norris!reader

Summary — Lando takes Franco under his wing and sets him up with his sister

Word count— 2826

A/n another one form my old account

“You did what?!” You asked your brother Lando who stood on the other side of the kitchen bar scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Invited Franco over for dinner,” Lando repeated.

“I get that but why? And why to my apartment?” You asked, looking at him.

“Because I want the guy to know that he has a friend. F1 is lonely sometimes and your apartment is more homey than mine” Lando said as a matter of fact.

“Lando my apartment is a mess, look at the state of the place,” you said gesturing around the apartment.

Lando looked around your apartment looking for the so-called mess. The only thing he saw was the cat toys striding all over the floor and a couple of yellow dying leaves on one of your plants. Raising an eyebrow he looked at you skeptically holding up a finger as if he was saying one second.

You watched as he picked up the cat toys and tossed them into the basket before turning his attention to prune your plant gently taking off the yellow leaves.

“They're all clean,” Lando said, smiling proud of himself.

You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes, "you didn't have to do that, you know?" you say, crossing your arms as he returned the gardening scissors to their place in the kitchen drawer.

"I know but now Franco won't see any mess, problem solved," he said with a grin, clearly proud of his work.

You shook your head gently, "you're a mess sometimes, you know that?" you teased, sticking your tongue out at him, gently swatting his arm.

Lando laughed good-naturedly, "hey, I'm just trying to help," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. He leaned against the kitchen counter and looked at you with a smile.

"But, thanks for letting me have Franco over," he said, his tone suddenly more serious, "I just want to make sure he feels less lonely around here, you know?

“F1 life can be pretty isolating at times," he said, running a hand through his messy hair. You felt a wave of empathy towards Lando, knowing that the F1 life wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. The constant traveling, media scrutiny, and being surrounded by people yet often feeling alone wasn't a piece of cake.

“I completely understand,” you said gently, moving to lean next to him against the kitchen counter. "I'm happy to have you guys over, just maybe a bit more notice next time?" you teased, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Lando chuckled, "I promise to give you a heads-up in the future," he said, holding up a hand as if he was swearing.

A silence fell for a moment before Lando glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"So tell me, you're single right? Do you mind if I play matchmaker for you tonight?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You felt a mixture of surprise and amusement wash over you.

"Lando, are you serious?" you asked, trying to hold back a smile.

Lando just shrugged, "What can I say? I love playing matchmaker. Besides, I think you and Franco would get along great," he said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Also what should I make for dinner?” You asked Lando.

“Ooh Make your Chicken Parmesan and my life is yours,” Lando says dramatically falling on the floor. Lando scrambled off the floor, a wide grin on his face.

"You're a goddess" he declared, exaggeratingly bowing down to you.

"Now if only Franco is as easily pleased as me" he teased, wagging his eyebrows. You shook your head, trying to hide a smile. "Lando, will you shut up and help me cook?"

He laughed and saluted you. "Aye, aye captain," he said, pushing himself off the floor.

As you both moved to the kitchen and started prepping the ingredients, Lando couldn't help but keep bringing up the thought of you and Franco together.

"You know, Franco is a nice guy," Lando said, chopping away at a pile of garlic "I think you two would get along great," he said, his eyes never leaving the chopping board.

You hummed in response, stirring the marinara sauce.

Lando glanced up at you with a smirk. "He's single too, you know" he teased, clearly enjoying this a little too much. You shot Lando a stern look, trying to suppress a smile. "Lando, I know you like to play matchmaker but slow down a bit, will you?"

Lando feigned surprise, a hand coming to his mouth in mock shock. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said innocently, going back to chopping the garlic.

You rolled your eyes at his act. "You're the worst," you said, shaking your head.

Lando chuckled, "But you love me"

You couldn't deny that. You did love him, as annoying as he could be at times. But you weren't about to give him that satisfaction.

"Sometimes," you said with a grin, shaking your head.

Just then, the buzzer for the front door rang throughout the apartment - signaling that Franco was there. Lando's face lit up, like a kid on Christmas morning. "I'll get the door," Lando said quickly, jumping up from the counter before you had the chance to respond.

"Lando, wait-" you called out, but he was already rushing out of the kitchen.

Sighing, you tried to refocus on the marinara sauce. But the thought of meeting Franco for the first time started to make your nerves flutter.

Lando quickly crossed the living room and opened the front door. Franco stood there with a smile, holding a bottle of red wine in his hand.

"Hey mate, glad you could make it," Lando said, stepping aside to let him in.

Franco stepped through the door, his eyes immediately taking in your apartment. "Wow, this is a nice place, thanks for having me," he said, handing Lando the bottle of wine.

"Ah, thanks for bringing the wine," Lando said, taking the bottle in his hands and studying the label.

"And no problem, my friend," he said, giving his shoulder a firm pat.

You picked that moment to stroll into the living room, curiosity getting the better of you. At the sight of you, Franco gave a charming smile.

"Hello there," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine for some reason. You offered him a warm smile in return, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)" you said, holding out a hand.

Franco took your hand in his own, giving it a gentle shake. His hand was warm and firm against your own, and you found yourself blushing a bit at the contact.

"Franco," he said, his smile still in place. Lando watched the interaction, his smirk growing wider. Lando cleared his throat, breaking the moment.

"Come on, let's head into the kitchen, (Y/N) just about finished preparing dinner," he said, gesturing to the kitchen.

Franco gave you one more smile before following Lando into the kitchen. You stayed a step behind them, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

As you entered the kitchen, you went back to stirring the marinara sauce. Lando started to pour some of the wine into three glasses, handing one to you and one to Franco.

As the three of you drank and joked around with casual small talk, you found yourself getting more comfortable in Franco's presence. He was polite, witty, and had a smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts.

When it came time to eat, the three of you sat around your kitchen table, laughing and enjoying the delicious chicken parmesan.

As you all talked, you realized that Lando was suspiciously quiet - watching you and Franco intently, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Lando continued to silently observe you and Franco, occasionally chuckling to himself. You noticed this and shot him a few pointed looks, trying to signal for him to behave.

But Lando just smiled innocently, sipping his wine.

Meanwhile, you and Franco continued chatting, discovering mutual interests, and sharing stories. The conversation was easy and natural, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company.

As the meal came to a close, the conversation started to die down. Lando set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Well, that was bloody fantastic," he said, patting his stomach.

Franco nodded in agreement, also leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, best chicken parmesan I���ve ever had," he said, looking over at you with a grateful smile.

You felt a blush rise in your cheeks at the compliment. "Oh, it's nothing really" you said, waving a dismissive hand.

Lando smirked into his wine glass, watching you two interact. He was enjoying this far too much.

"Nonsense, it was absolutely fantastic" Franco said, his eyes never leaving yours.

Suddenly, Lando cleared his throat, interrupting the moment.

"You know, (Y/N). Franco here is single" he said, feigning innocence. You tensed up at Lando's words. Here we go.

Franco coughed awkwardly, his cheeks tinged a light pink.

You sent Lando a sharp glare, warning him to back off. Which also resulted in you kicking Lando in the shin underneath the table. Lando winced in pain, "Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his shin as he shot you a betrayed look.

Franco chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying your playful banter. "Sorry," you said to Lando, not sounding at all sorry. Lando just grumbled something under his breath as he continued to rub his shin.

Glancing at Franco, you found he was looking right back at you, an amused smile playing on his lips. "Hey, I’m just trying to help you guys out" Lando said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Franco shook his head, "It's alright, I think it's quite funny actually" he said, glancing between you and Lando. You chuckled, mentally cursing Lando for his attempts at match-making.

“You’ll have to forgive him, he’s a bit of a meddler” you said, giving Lando a pointed look. Lando let out a huff of protest, "I’m not a meddler, I prefer the term matchmaker".

You rolled your eyes at his comment, shaking your head. "More like a pain in the ass" you muttered. Franco chuckled beside you, clearly amused by your banter.

Lando clutched his chest in mock offense, "I'm hurt. Really hurt." You just rolled your eyes again, used to Lando's melodrama. “Well would you look at the time I should be going” Lando said looking at his bare wrist as he got up sprinting to the door.

“You’re not even wearing your watch!” You called out to him. Lando ignored your comment and quickly made his way to the door in a few long strides.

"Bye guys, have fun!" he called out over his shoulder before exiting the apartment. The door slid shut behind him, leaving you alone with Franco.

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. "That boy, I swear he never knows when to stop" you said, rolling your eyes.

Franco chuckled, looking over at you. "He seems like a fun guy" he said.

You shook your head, "Yeah, fun and a massive pain in the ass" you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. The two of you stood silently for a moment, the weight of Lando's words hanging in the air.

Trying to break the tension, you cleared your throat. "Well, would you like some more wine?" you asked, gesturing to the bottle on the table.

Franco smiled warmly and nodded. "Yeah, why not" he said, holding out his glass for you to refill it. You poured the red liquid into his glass, your hands slightly shaking with nerves.

As you refilled your own glass, you snuck a glance at Franco, taking in his sharp jaw and kind eyes.

God, he really was handsome. You quickly averted your gaze, mentally scolding yourself for ogling him like that.

As you set down the bottle, you decided to break the silence.

"So, Lando mentioned you’re single?" you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. As soon as the words left your mouth, you mentally smacked yourself. Of course you would ask that.

Franco let out a chuckle, his eyes flashing with amusement.

"Yeah, I'm single" he said simply, swirling the wine in his glass.

A silence fell over the two of you for a moment, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall.

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, not knowing what to say next.

Franco glanced up at you, his gaze suddenly intense. "And you? Are you single?" he asked, his voice low. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you met his gaze.

"Y-yeah, I’m single" you manage to squeak out, your voice betraying your nerves.

Franco nodded in response, his eyes studying your face intently. The tension in the air was suddenly thick enough to cut with a knife.

Despite your nerves, there was something about the way he was looking at you that made your stomach flutter.

The air was charged with a tension you couldn’t fully understand, and it made it hard to focus on anything except his gaze.

After a few moments of silence, Franco cleared his throat. “Can I…ask you something?”

Franco took a sip of his wine before continuing, his eyes never leaving you.

"Did Lando set us up?" he asked bluntly.

You were taken aback by his bluntness, but after a moment of surprise wore off, you chuckled.

"Yes, he did" you admitted sheepishly. Franco chuckled as well, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I had a feeling he was up to something” he said, his voice low. “But I wasn’t expecting him to be quite so…forward”

You nodded, a smile on your face. “Lando can be a little reckless at times” you said, shaking your head fondly. “Clearly” Franco said, his tone amused.

He stared at you for a few moments, his eyes boring into you. You fidgeted nervously, unsure of what to say or do next.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. “Can I tell you something?”

Your heart rate picked up speed as you swallowed heavily. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead" you said, bracing yourself. Franco took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I actually..." he trailed off, suddenly looking nervous.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited for him to continue, holding your breath. "I...I actually find you very attractive" he said in a rush, his cheeks turning a light tint of pink.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your mind suddenly going blank. Did he just say what you thought he said?

"I, uh..." you mumbled, your mind scrambling to come up with a response.

Franco chuckled, sensing your surprise. He ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt that out like that” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You shook your head, still trying to process what he had just said.

"No, no, it's alright" you finally managed to say, your voice shaky. "I, uh...I find you attractive too" you admitted quietly, feeling your cheeks flush.

“Would you like to go out sometime soon with me?” Franco asked nervously.

Your heart thumped in your chest as Franco's words hung in the air. He wanted to go out with you.

"Yes" you said, without hesitation. "I'd love to"

A smile slowly spread across Franco's face. "Really?" he asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

"Yes, really" you laughed, the nerves finally gone.

Franco's smile widened, his eyes sparkling. "Great" he replied, the relief evident in his voice. "How about this Friday? I'll pick you up at 8?"

Your heart fluttered at his suggestion. "That sounds perfect" you said, a smile on your face.

Franco let out a sigh of relief. "Great, it's a date" he said, looking genuinely excited. The two of you continued talking for a while longer, the previous tension replaced by a lighthearted chatter.

Eventually, Franco looked down at his watch and winced. "It's almost midnight, I should probably head home" he said, reluctantly standing up from his chair.

You stood up as well, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. But you knew he was right - it was getting late.

“Yeah, I guess it is pretty late” you said, glancing down at your own watch.

Franco gathered his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. You walked him to the front door.

As you opened the door, Franco turned to face you. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was hesitating.

Finally, he spoke up. "Tonight was really nice" he said, his voice softer than before.

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter. "Yeah, it was" you agreed, holding his gaze.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

They were warned

Picks and Shovels is a new, standalone technothriller starring Marty Hench, my two-fisted, hard-fighting, tech-scam-busting forensic accountant. You can pre-order it on my latest Kickstarter, which features a brilliant audiobook read by Wil Wheaton.

Truth is provisional! Sometimes, the things we understand to be true about the world change, and stuff we've "always done" has to change, too. There comes a day when the evidence against using radium suppositories is overwhelming, and then you really must dig that radium out of your colon and safely dispose of it:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/19/just-stop-putting-that-up-your-ass/#harm-reduction

So it's natural and right that in the world, there will be people who want to revisit the received wisdom and best practices for how we live our lives, regulate our economy, and organize our society. But not a license to simply throw out the systems we rely on. Sure, maybe they're outdated or unnecessary, but maybe not. That's where "Chesterton's Fence" comes in:

Let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, "I don't see the use of this; let us clear it away." To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: "If you don't see the use of it, I certainly won't let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G._K._Chesterton#Chesterton's_fence

In other words, it's not enough to say, "This principle gets in the way of something I want to do, so let's throw it out because I'm pretty sure the inconvenience I'm experiencing is worse than the consequences of doing away with this principle." You need to have a theory of how you will prevent the harms the principle protects us from once you tear it down. That theory can be "the harms are imaginary" so it doesn't matter. Like, if you get rid of all the measures that defend us from hexes placed by evil witches, it's OK to say, "This is safe because evil witches aren't real and neither are hexes."

But you'd better be sure! After all, some preventative measures work so well that no living person has experienced the harms they guard us against. It's easy to mistake these for imaginary or exaggerated. Think of the antivaxers who are ideologically committed to a world in which human beings do not have a shared destiny, meaning that no one has a moral claim over the choices you make. Motivated reasoning lets those people rationalize their way into imagining that measles – a deadly and ferociously contagious disease that was a scourge for millennia until we all but extinguished it – was no big deal:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Measles:_A_Dangerous_Illness

There's nothing wrong with asking whether longstanding health measures need to be carried on, or whether they can be sunset. But antivaxers' sloppy, reckless reasoning about contagious disease is inexcusable. They were warned, repeatedly, about the mass death and widespread lifelong disability that would follow from their pursuit of an ideological commitment to living as though their decisions have no effect on others. They pressed ahead anyway, inventing ever-more fanciful reasons why health is a purely private matter, and why "public health" was either a myth or a Communist conspiracy:

https://www.conspirituality.net/episodes/brief-vinay-prasad-pick-me-campaign

When RFK Jr kills your kids with measles or permanently disables them with polio, he doesn't get to say "I was just inquiring as to the efficacy of a longstanding measure, as is right and proper." He was told why the vaccine fence was there, and he came up with objectively very stupid reasons why that didn't matter, and then he killed your kids. He was warned.

Fuck that guy.

Or take Bill Clinton. From 1933 until 1999, American banks were regulated under the Glass-Steagall Act, which "structurally separated" them. Under structural separation, a "retail bank" – the bank that holds your savings and mortgage and provides you with a checkbook – could not be "investment bank." That meant it couldn't own or invest in businesses that competed with the businesses its depositors and borrowers ran. It couldn't get into other lines of business, either, like insurance underwriting.

Glass-Steagall was a fence that stood between retail banks and the casino economy. It was there for a fucking great reason: the failure to structurally separate banks allowed them to act like casinos, inflating a giant market bubble that popped on Black Friday in October 1929, kicking off the Great Depression. Congress built the structural separation fence to keep banks from doing it again.

In the 1990s, Bill Clinton agitated for getting rid of Glass-Steagall. He argued that new economic controls would allow the government to prevent another giant bubble and crash. This time, the banks would behave themselves. After all, hadn't they demonstrated their prudence for seven decades?

In fact, they hadn't. Every time banks figured out how to slip out of regulatory constraints they inflated another huge bubble, leading to another massive crash that made the rich obscenely richer and destroyed ordinary savers' lives. Clinton took office just as one of these finance-sector bombs – the S&L Crisis – was detonating. Clinton had no basis – apart from wishful thinking – to believe that deregulating banks would lead to anything but another gigantic crash.

But Clinton let his self interest – in presiding over a sugar-high economic expansion driven by deregulation – overrule his prudence (about the crash that would follow). Sure enough, in the last months of Clinton's presidency, the stock market imploded with the March 2000 dot-bomb. And because Congress learned nothing from the dot-com crash and declined to restore the Glass-Steagall fence, the crash led to another bubble, this time in subprime mortgages, and then, inevitably, we suffered the Great Financial Crisis.

Look: there's no virtue in having bank regulations for the sake of having them. It is conceptually possible for bank regulations to be useless or even harmful. There's nothing wrong with investigating whether the 70-year old Glass-Steagall Act was still needed in 1999. But Clinton was provided with a mountain of evidence about why Glass-Steagall was the only thing standing between Americans and economic chaos, including the evidence of the S&L Crisis, which was still underway when he took office, and he ignored all of them. If you lost everything – your home, your savings, your pension – in the dot-bomb or the Great Financial Crisis, Bill Clinton is to blame. He was warned. he ignored the warnings.

Fuck that guy.

No, seriously, fuck Bill Clinton. Deregulating banks wasn't Clinton's only passion. He also wanted to ban working cryptography. The cornerstone of Clinton's tech policy was the "Clipper Chip," a backdoored encryption chip that, by law, every technology was supposed to use. If Clipper had gone into effect, then cops, spooks, and anyone who could suborn, bribe, or trick a cop or a spook could break into any computer, server, mobile device, or embedded system in America.

When Clinton was told – over and over, in small, easy-to-understand words – that there was no way to make a security system that only worked when "bad guys" tried to break into it, but collapsed immediately if a "good guy" wanted to bypass it. We explained to him – oh, how we explained to him! – that working encryption would be all that stood between your pacemaker's firmware and a malicious update that killed you where you stood; all that stood between your antilock brakes' firmware and a malicious update that sent you careening off a cliff; all that stood between businesses and corporate espionage, all that stood between America and foreign state adversaries wanting to learn its secrets.

In response, Clinton said the same thing that all of his successors in the Crypto Wars have said: NERD HARDER! Just figure it out. Cops need to look at bad guys' phones, so you need to figure out how to make encryption that keeps teenagers safe from sextortionists, but melts away the second a cop tries to unlock a suspect's phone. Take Malcolm Turnbull, the former Australian Prime Minister. When he was told that the laws of mathematics dictated that it was impossible to build selectively effective encryption of the sort he was demanding, he replied, "The laws of mathematics are very commendable but the only law that applies in Australia is the law of Australia":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/07/australian-pm-calls-end-end-encryption-ban-says-laws-mathematics-dont-apply-down

Fuck that guy. Fuck Bill Clinton. Fuck a succession of UK Prime Ministers who have repeatedly attempted to ban working encryption. Fuck 'em all. The stakes here are obscenely high. They have been warned, and all they say in response is "NERD HARDER!"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/05/theyre-still-trying-to-ban-cryptography/

Now, of course, "crypto means cryptography," but the other crypto – cryptocurrency – deserves a look-in here. Cryptocurrency proponents advocate for a system of deregulated money creation, AKA "wildcat currencies." They say, variously, that central banks are no longer needed; or that we never needed central banks to regulate the money supply. Let's take away that fence. Why not? It's not fit for purpose today, and maybe it never was.

Why do we have central banks? The Fed – which is far from a perfect institution and could use substantial reform or even replacement – was created because the age of wildcat currencies was a nightmare. Wildcat currencies created wild economic swings, massive booms and even bigger busts. Wildcat currencies are the reason that abandoned haunted mansions feature so heavily in the American imagination: American towns and cities were dotted with giant mansions built by financiers who'd grown rich as bubbles expanded, then lost it all after the crash.

Prudent management of the money supply didn't end those booms and busts, but it substantially dampened them, ending the so-called "business cycle" that once terrorized Americans, destroying their towns and livelihoods and wiping out their savings.

It shouldn't surprise us that a new wildcat money sector, flogging "decentralized" cryptocurrencies (that they are nevertheless weirdly anxious to swap for your gross, boring old "fiat" money) has created a series of massive booms and busts, with insiders getting richer and richer, and retail investors losing everything.

If there was ever any doubt about whether wildcat currencies could be made safe by putting them on a blockchain, it is gone. Wildcat currencies are as dangerous today as they were in the 18th and 19th century – only moreso, since this new bad paper relies on the endless consumption of whole rainforests' worth of carbon, endangering not just our economy, but also the habitability of the planet Earth.

And nevertheless, the Trump administration is promising a new crypto golden age (or, ahem, a Gilded Age). And there are plenty of Democrats who continue to throw in with the rotten, corrupt crypto industry, which flushed billions into the 2024 election to bring Trump to office. The result is absolutely going to be more massive bubbles and life-destroying implosions. Fuck those guys. They were warned, and they did it anyway.

Speaking of the climate emergency: greetings from smoky Los Angeles! My city's on fire. This was not an unforeseeable disaster. Malibu is the most on-fire place in the world:

https://longreads.com/2018/12/04/the-case-for-letting-malibu-burn/

Since 1919, the region has been managed on the basis of "total fire suppression." This policy continued long after science showed that this creates "fire debt" in the form of accumulated fuel. The longer you go between fires, the hotter and more destructive those fires become, and the relationship is nonlinear. A 50-year fire isn't 250% more intense than a 20-year fire: it's 50,000% more intense.

Despite this, California has invested peanuts in regular controlled burns, which has created biennial uncontrolled burns – wildfires that cost thousands of times more than any controlled burn.

Speaking of underinvestment: PG&E has spent decades extracting dividends for its investors and bonuses for its execs, while engaging in near-total neglect of maintenance of its high-voltage transmission lines. Even with normal winds, these lines routinely fall down and start blazes.

But we don't have normal winds. The climate emergency has been steadily worsening for decades. LA is just the latest place to be on fire, or under water, or under ice, or baking in wet bulb temperatures. Last week in southern California, we were warned to expect gusts of 120mph.

They were warned. #ExxonKnew: in the early 1970s, Exxon's own scientists warned them that fossil fuel consumption would kick off climate change so drastic that it would endanger human civilzation. Exxon responded by burying the reports and investing in climate denial:

https://exxonknew.org/

They were warned! Warned about fire debt. Warned about transmission lines. Warned about climate change. And specific, named people, who individually had the power to heed these warnings and stave off disaster, ignored the warnings. They didn't make honest mistakes, either: they ignored the warnings because doing so made them extraordinarily, disgustingly rich. They used this money to create dynastic fortunes, and have created entire lineages of ultra-wealthy princelings in $900,000 watches who owe it all to our suffering and impending dooml

Fuck those guys. Fuck 'em all.

We've had so many missed opportunities, chances to make good policy or at least not make bad policy. The enshitternet didn't happen on its own. It was the foreseeable result of choices – again, choices made by named individuals who became very wealthy by ignoring the warnings all around them.

Let's go back to Bill Clinton, because more than anyone else, Clinton presided over some terrible technology regulations. In 1998, Clinton signed the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, a bill championed by Barney Frank (fuck that guy, too). Under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, it's a felony, punishable by a five year prison sentence, and a $500,000 fine, to tamper with a "digital lock."

That means that if HP uses a digital lock to prevent you from using third-party ink, it's a literal crime to bypass that lock. Which is why HP ink now costs $10,000/gallon, and why you print your shopping lists with colored water that costs more, ounce for ounce, than the sperm of a Kentucky Derby winner:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/30/life-finds-a-way/#ink-stained-wretches

Clinton was warned that DMCA 1201 would soon metastasize into every kind of device – not just the games consoles and DVD players where it was first used, but medical implants, tractors, cars, home appliances – anything you could put a microchip into (Jay Freeman calls this "felony contempt of business-model"):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

He ignored those warnings and signed the DMCA anyway (fuck that guy). Then, under Bush (fuck that guy), the US Trade Representative went all around the world demanding that America's trading partners adopt versions of this law (fuck that guy). In 2001, the European Parliament capitulated, enacting the EU Copyright Directive, whose Article 6 is a copy-paste of DMCA 1201 (fuck all those people).

Fast forward 20 years, and boy is there a lot of shit with microchips that can be boobytrapped with rent-extracting logic bombs that are illegal to research, describe, or disable.

Like choo-choo trains.

Last year, the Polish hacking group Dragon Sector was contacted by a public sector train company whose Newag trains kept going out of service. The operator suspected that Newag had boobytrapped the trains to punish the train company for getting its maintenance from a third-party contractor. When Dragon Sector investigated, they discovered that Newag had indeed riddled the trains' firmware with boobytraps. Trains that were taken to locations known to have third-party maintenance workshops were immediately bricked (hilariously, this bomb would detonate if trains just passed through stations near to these workshops, which is why another train company had to remove all the GPSes from its trains – they kept slamming to a halt when they approached a station near a third-party workshop). But Newag's logic bombs would brick trains for all kinds of reasons – merely keeping a train stationary for too many days would result in its being bricked. Installing a third-party component in a locomotive would also trigger a bomb, bricking the train.

In their talk at last year's Chaos Communications Congress, the Dragon Sector folks describe how they have been legally terrorized by Newag, which has repeatedly sued them for violating its "intellectual property" by revealing its sleazy, corrupt business practices. They also note that Newag continues to sell lots of trains in Poland, despite the widespread knowledge of its dirty business model, because public train operators are bound by procurement rules, and as long as Newag is the cheapest bidder, they get the contract:

https://media.ccc.de/v/38c3-we-ve-not-been-trained-for-this-life-after-the-newag-drm-disclosure

The laws that let Newag make millions off a nakedly corrupt enterprise – and put the individuals who blew the whistle on it at risk of losing everything – were passed by Members of the European Parliament who were warned that this would happen, and they ignored those warnings, and now it's happening. Fuck those people, every one of 'em.

It's not just European parliamentarians who ignored warnings and did the bidding of the US Trade Representative, enacting laws that banned tampering with digital locks. In 2010, two Canadian Conservative Party ministers in the Stephen Harper government brought forward similar legislation. These ministers, Tony Clement (now a disgraced sex-pest and PPE grifter) and James Moore (today, a sleazeball white-shoe corporate lawyer), held a consultation on this proposal.

6, 138 people wrote in to say, "Don't do this, it will be hugely destructive." 54 respondents wrote in support of it. Clement and Moore threw out the 6,138 opposing comments. Moore explained why: these were the "babyish" responses of "radical extremists." The law passed in 2012.

Last year, the Canadian Parliament passed bills guaranteeing Canadians the Right to Repair and the right to interoperability. But Canadians can't act on either of these laws, because they would have to tamper with a digital lock to do so, and that's illegal, thanks to Tony Clement and James Moore. Who were warned. And who ignored those warnings. Fuck those guys:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/15/radical-extremists/#sex-pest

Back in the 1990s, Bill Clinton had a ton of proposals for regulating the internet, but nowhere among those proposals will you find a consumer privacy law. The last time an American president signed a consumer privacy law was 1988, when Reagan signed the Video Privacy Protection Act and ensured that Americans would never have to worry that video-store clerks where telling the newspapers what VHS cassettes they took home.

In the years since, Congress has enacted exactly zero consumer privacy laws. None. This has allowed the out-of-control, unregulated data broker sector to metastasize into a cancer on the American people. This is an industry that fuels stalkers, discriminatory financial and hiring algorithms, and an ad-tech sector that lets advertisers target categories like "teenagers with depression," "seniors with dementia" and "armed service personnel with gambling addictions."

When the people cry out for privacy protections, Congress – and the surveillance industry shills that fund them – say we don't need a privacy law. The market will solve this problem. People are selling their privacy willingly, and it would be an "undue interference in the market" if we took away your "freedom to contract" by barring companies from spying on you after you clicked the "I agree" button.

These people have been repeatedly warned about the severe dangers to the American public – as workers, as citizens, as community members, and as consumers – from the national privacy free-for-all, and have done nothing. Fuck them, every one:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

Now, even a stopped clock is right twice a day, and not every one of Bill Clinton's internet policies was terrible. He had exactly one great policy, and, ironically, that's the one there's the most energy for dismantling. That policy is Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (a law that was otherwise such a dumpster fire that the courts struck it down). Chances are, you have been systematically misled about the history, use, and language of Section 230, which is wild, because it's exactly 26 words long and fits in a single tweet:

No provider or user of an interactive computer service shall be treated as the publisher or speaker of any information provided by another information content provider.

Section 230 was passed because when companies were held liable for their users' speech, they "solved" this problem by just blocking every controversial thing a user said. Without Section 230, there would be no Black Lives Matter, no #MeToo – no online spaces where the powerful were held to account. Meanwhile, rich and powerful people would continue to enjoy online platforms where they and their bootlickers could pump out the most grotesque nonsense imaginable, either because they owned those platforms (ahem, Twitter and Truth Social) or because rich and powerful people can afford the professional advice needed to navigate the content-moderation bureaucracies of large systems.

We know exactly what the internet looks like when platforms are civilly liable for their users' speech: it's an internet where marginalized and powerless people are silenced, and where the people who've got a boot on their throats are the only voices you can hear:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

The evidence for this isn't limited to the era of AOL and Prodigy. In 2018, Trump signed SESTA/FOSTA, a law that held platforms liable for "sex trafficking." Advocates for this law – like Ashton Kutcher, who campaigns against sexual assault unless it involves one of his friends, in which case he petitions the judge for leniency – were warned that it would be used to shut down all consensual sex work online, making sex workers's lives much more dangerous. This warnings were immediately borne out, and they have been repeatedly borne out every month since. Killing CDA 230 for sex work brought back pimping, exposed sex workers to grave threats to their personal safety, and made them much poorer:

https://decriminalizesex.work/advocacy/sesta-fosta/what-is-sesta-fosta/

It also pushed sex trafficking and other nonconsensual sex into privateforums that are much harder for law enforcement to monitor and intervene in, making it that much harder to catch sex traffickers:

https://cdt.org/insights/its-all-downsides-hybrid-fosta-sesta-hinders-law-enforcement-hurts-victims-and-speakers/

This is exactly what SESTA/FOSTA's advocates were warned of. They were warned. They did it anyway. Fuck those people.

Maybe you have a theory about how platforms can be held civilly liable for their users' speech without harming marginalized people in exactly the way that SESTA/FOSTA, it had better amount to more than "platforms are evil monopolists and CDA 230 makes their lives easier." Yes, they're evil monopolists. Yes, 230 makes their lives easier. But without 230, small forums – private message boards, Mastodon servers, Bluesky, etc – couldn't possibly operate.

There's a reason Mark Zuckerberg wants to kill CDA 230, and it's not because he wants to send Facebook to the digital graveyard. Zuck knows that FB can operate in a post-230 world by automating the deletion of all controversial speech, and he knows that small services that might "disrupt" Facebook's hegemony would be immediately extinguished by eliminating 230:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/zuckerberg-calls-changes-techs-section-230-protections-rcna486

It's depressing to see so many comrades in the fight against Big Tech getting suckered into carrying water for Zuck, demanding the eradication of CDA 230. Please, I beg you: look at the evidence for what happens when you remove that fence. Heed the warnings. Don't be like Bill Clinton, or California fire suppression officials, or James Moore and Tony Clement, or the European Parliament, or the US Trade Rep, or cryptocurrency freaks, or Malcolm Turnbull.

Or Ashton fucking Kutcher.

Because, you know, fuck those guys.

Check out my Kickstarter to pre-order copies of my next novel, Picks and Shovels!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/13/wanting-it-badly/#is-not-enough

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

Consequence Last night I was met with major consequences of my actions. 

A buddy of mine asked me to come over and help him set up his house, as he just moved. I said yes (as any friend should) and we worked for a few hours straight. 

His wife is quite the cook. She’s made us countless lovely meals that are by all accounts quite lavish: plenty of fresh vegetables and herbs, finely cut and marinated meats, perfectly prepared noodles or rice or soup, and even at times delectably indulgent desserts. They are a modest family but often there is enough to eat seconds or thirds if one desired, and she has often welcomed or encouraged it, as that is how she was raised. 

Last night she made a huge pot of noodles and sausage and cut vegetables, even with fresh spices and homemade sausage. Truly some of her best yet. I helped myself to 4 portions or so…there was tons and only 3 of us, and no one was in the kitchen when I got mine. 

I sat down at the table and got to work. It took deliberate effort by the end of my absolutely piled plate to finish it all. My poor gut was so filled up I had gotten to a point where I was having to hide my heavy breathing. Luckily both my friend and his wife were preoccupied with a phone call and the tv, so I could gorge with little fear of being noticed. I finally finished it all. I took a deep breathe and just kinda zoned out in a blissful, food induced daze. I was quickly snapped back to reality by her. She sort of just appeared out of nowhere to get my plate. 

She asked if I liked it. I said it was great. She asked if I wanted more. I was looking down to grab my plate and hand it to her. I struggled to find a nice way to say I was so full I couldn’t have anymore, and then I looked up. She was almost…frowning? Maybe pouting? I couldn’t bear the thought of turning her down then, she looked so distraught…so I said sure. 

She practically jumped forward to take my plate, and she was beaming. A big smile flashed on her face and she expressed how thrilled she was to get me some more and that I liked it so much. 

I could hardly imagine eating any more. My stomach was already packed full. I absolutely dreaded her return. In just a minute or two she came back with my plate, and dear goodness it was stacked. She had chosen the choicest slices of meat and more than I got the first time as I was being modest with something such high quality. She had given me the nicest looking vegetables, and plenty of the fresh herbs. She even made sure my noodles had plenty of sauce. I was shocked. It was easily rivaling the portion I got earlier, but she chose so many delightful pieces of everything. With an excited, grateful word she set my plate in front of me. She was smiling ear to ear.  I had no choice now.

I said thank you and accepted my fate. Every forkful was laborious. Every mouthful tougher to swallow than the last. My mouth was overwhelmed with wonderful textures, flavors, and shapes. Truly this was the best plate you could’ve gotten. Yet I could barely stomach it. I ate so much of my own accord earlier that I ruined this finely prepared second portion. What should have been a happily welcomed indulgence was now practically a punishment. Slowly but determinedly I stuffed it all down. The chewing was just getting to hard. Not because it was tough or poorly done, but because I had eaten so much that my jaw became fatigued. 

Finally it was all inside me. I finally ate it all. Nothing remained on my plate, and I could barely imagine getting up. I sat there at the table, focusing on my positively swollen gut. I felt it strain my shirt differently, and my body was starting to focus all its reserve energy on processing all this food. 

I grew more tired then I had been. Food was supposed to be rejuvenating after a break from work, but I had now eaten so much I was starting to fight off sleep. 

Eventually I got up, and lugged my heavy belly back to work. I was so full I had to focus on breathing normally and annunciating  my words. My belly was this hefty, sagging sack of lard on the bottom(like usual) but the top was jammed full of simply too much food, and it had stretched and distended so far that my 5XLT shirt was starting to look a little tight in the middle. 

My choices finally caught up to me. My unchecked gluttony was finally taking its toll. I was being inadvertently punished for pigging out so intensely. 

honestly, I was hoping she would ask me if I wanted 3rds.

[obsidianpen]

unpopular opinion: admit it or not but no glory would've been more popular on ao3 than blood & gold if it wasn't locked, considering it's popularity on tiktok. even big accounts on tiktok about fanfic recommendations and stuffs, recommends no glory and their videos is always a hit. don't get me wrong i'm a blood & gold fan, like seriously. but i think no glory is more closer of getting popular along side of manacled, like seriously check tiktok and search no glory and all videos are hits. everytime i search blood & gold on tiktok hoping if some people read it, i barely see any videos compared to no glory. is this a sign to read no glory?😭

well this is certainly part of the problem - something being popular on TikTok is NOT a surefire sign that it’s a good story. There are a LOT of amazing fics that aren’t on TikTok. Like most of them probably. And honestly, I’ve seen some pretty atrocious ones get posted about and reccd there, particularly in tomione. Cough cough.

let’s talk about the tiktokification (and adjacent, instagramification) of fanfics! Like all things, I think there are good and bad parts of this. I think it can be fun when readers like a story so much they make a TikTok about it to hype up the author. That’s how the exchange of fandom is supposed to work: the writer makes and shares a story with the world for free; the reader says thank you by providing feedback in the form of a comment or in this case, reccing it on social media, maybe even going as far as to make a fun video or edit. Fine. Fun. Go at it.

(side note to give special thanks to all fan artists; I think I speak for most writers when I say this is the BEST???? Fanfic inspiring fanart is the best exchange ever, true fandom love)

where I find a problem with TikTok and all that is when writers themselves are hyping up their own work on social media like it’s a job, making catchy funny videos with the intent to reach many people as possible and blow up - on a site that where posts can be monetized. It feels very cringey to me. Like, ulterior motive-y. Sorry if I’m offending anyone with this take, feel free to disagree and do your thing!

but on to No Glory’s presence on TikTok - truly, this was a surprise to me when I first saw it. I don’t agree that it would be ‘manacled popularity status’ because… it’s harrymort. It’s a far cry from Draco and Hermione, that’s for sure (not that I can’t and won’t make a solid argument for how canon compliant - though admittedly very fucked up - harrymort is!). I think it’s fair to say that No Glory is a bit of a ‘despite the’ situation, meaning, it is somehow popular despite having graphic torture, death, trauma, rape, etc. And none of those things are done lightly, nor are they ever excused (the murderer/rapist is not pardoned for any of his bullshit nor is he coerced into doing any of it; he is a Villain, capital V). So yeah, it’s surprising to me that it is as popular as it is, given all that AND that’s it’s a WIP, seeing as there is also (I think) a big trend for people only reading completed fics (these folks are almost missing the point of fandom and how it works and they suck, but that’s a different rant).

I’m losing the plot. Er, I don’t think NG being locked for a while would have made TOO much a difference, but maybe it would have - I’m sure people were sharing it with those who didn’t have accounts and so it probably would have more ‘hits’ or whatever if it hadn’t been. But all in all I don’t think it would be ‘manacled popular’. Because Harry is a (poor young) man, Voldemort is Voldemort, the age gap is both much too large and much too small (if it were an inhuman number of years, book tok logic says it becomes okay again), and everything is so fucked and unforgiving almost all the time. And not in the cute ‘I can fix him and everything!’ way. In the ‘there is nothing that can make him redeemable ever so I’m going to disassociate until I implode over and over again’ kind of way.

[gorgeous777]

First Time, Neville Longbottom x Fem. Reader

Your boyfriend wants to give you his virginity!

A/N: The following includes praise, p in v, and foreplay.

Enjoy!

__________________________

He wasn't sure what got him here. Maybe it was his hormones. Maybe it was just how pretty you were. Or how safe you made him feel when it came to the uncomfortable stuff. Everything actually, not just the uncomfortable stuff. But, whatever it was, it landed him here. Standing in front of you with a red face, tight trousers, and unbelievably nervously. He'd never had sex before, but he wasn't clueless about it. At least not entirely. With virginity comes some ignorance. Meanwhile, you're sat on your bed looking up at him dumbfounded. Did he really just ask you if you'd be okay with having sex with him? He couldn't read your expression, and he didn't like it.

You blink once, completely dumbfounded. "I.. Okay. Yeah" Your willingness to comply made some of his nerves fade, but certainly not all of them. He nods awkwardly before responding. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured or anything.." You look up at him quizzically, then letting out a soft scoff and shake your head lightly. "Yes, I'm sure. No pressure, I doubt you even have the heart do something like that Nev." He gives a small, awkward nod. You smack your lips lightly before standing up and stepping close to him. "I suppose we should start off slow, shouldn't we?" His eyes widen at your sudden proximity, but he makes no attempt to move away from you.

"Yeah, yeah. Slow.." He stammers out, raising his hands for a split second before lowering them quickly. He wanted to touch you, hold you, something. But he wasn't sure if that was too fast or not. Especially since you were doing this on his account. Your arms encircle his neck as you press your body to his. His breath hitched at the action and he went rigid momentarily. After another moment of hesitation, his hands came up to gently hold your hips. Your lips meet. At first he's shy, but it doesn't take long for him to try and reciprocate what you're doing. His lips are against yours, and hard. Firmly, nearly bruising. Though, after slowing down and following your lead, it gets better. Soft, and gentle. Sweet, like candy.

His lips feel antagonizingly good against your own. Without realizing it, you've moved to the bed. He's sitting on it, and you're straddling his lap. You don't fully register it, you chose not to. It was better not to ruin the moment. Your hands find their way into his hair, running through it, gripping it. You run your tongue along his bottom lip. A small groan sounds from him as your tongue finally meets his. He was quick to part his lips for you, eager for more. To learn and feel. There's a shift in position again. He's gotten a bit bolder, more comfortable in this mess of your lips. You're pressed up against the headboard and he's on top of you. Words can't begin to describe how warm your body feels beneath him. How good, how right.

Before you knew it, your lips found their way to the corner of his mouth. Kissing hungrily along his jaw then to his neck. When you found his throat, the kisses turned into more. Sucking tenderly on his skin, leaving a trail of dark blossoming hickeys down his neck. For each one you gave, he let out a series of whines and gasps. Such beautiful, needy sounds that spread warm goosebumps across your skin. You're completely enthralled with how vocal he is. How unashamed he is with the pleasure you're bringing him. You try to return your lips to his, but he's quick to mirror your actions. Kissing your jaw and neck, sucking marks into your flesh. Your hands find his hair again, messing it up further. Pulling him in, greedy for more of his attention.

He smells good. Like the greenhouses and shampoo. Heady. It's practically pheromones to you, making you want to drink him in until nothing is left. Unable to take it anymore, your hands find his face and tear him away from your throat. Before he could react, your lips are on his again. Deeply, passionately, hungrily. He reciprocates your kisses with equal ferver. With a puff of air from both of you, you roll over on top of him. His large hands return to your waist and his fingers slide beneath the fabric of your shirt. At some point you break away for air, your breathe no better than trembling gasps. His eyes are blown and his hair is a disaster. Not to mention his heavily flushed cheeks. You imagine you probably don't look much different.

You're straddling him now, just barely hovering above the painfully large tent in his trousers. "Okay.." you let out an exhale, "You've got me worked up now". He swallows thickly as your words sink in, and all he can do is nod at first. His eyes widen as your hands find the zipper of his jumper and yank it down. His chest is heaving by now, and multiple anxieties flood him as you fumble fast hands to unbutton his shirt. He knew he was far from lean, and wasn't overly fond of his chubbiness. Once the fabric was open, your hands slip beneath it and slide it open slowly. Wide eyes marvel at his bare torso, and he swallows nervously. "Beautiful.." You mumble breathlessly, causing Neville to doubt his hearing for a split second.

Before he could voice his doubt, you're already pushing the shirt to his shoulders and pulling it off his arms. "Your turn" you state bluntly, making his eyes widen in horror. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. After the tiniest bit of hesitation his hands grip the hem of your shirt and pull it off over your head. He sets the article aside, marveling at the sight of your bra. You keep your arms raised above your head, silently ushering for him to take it off you. He reaches behind you, your faces coming into dangerously close proximity as he does. He fumbles a bit, but get the bra unhooked. You lower your arms and shrug the piece off, then simply tossing it aside. He raises his hands, hovering them just above your breasts. His eyes flicker up to your face, hesitancy written all over his expression. "Can I touch you..?"

"As much as you want" His eyes wander back down to your chest as his hands make contact with your bare skin. He cups your breasts gently, his thumbs gently brushing over your nipples and watching as they harden. A small flicker of hesitation crosses him before he just gives into his intrusive thought. His lips make contact with one of your breasts. He trails soft kisses over it, stopping when he reaches your nipple. "I didn't tell you that you had to stop" His eyes instantly flick up to your face, surprise etched all over his own. "This is a part of the act, y'know. Exploring the other persons body. Finding out what they like.." He nods before leaning back in and pressing a kiss to your nipple. It sent pleasant sparks through your body, directly between your legs.

"Do you like that, Y/N?" He asks softly. A small exhale comes from your parted lips. "Yeah.. Yeah, it feels good" Upon your confirmation, he makes up his mind about what to do next. He takes the bud into his mouth and suckles gently. A sharp gasp comes from you at the feeling, your arms instantly going around his shoulders. His mouth was warm and wet. With each suck he gave, a pulse went through your body. A throb of pleasure that only added to the growing wetness between your legs. He pulls away after a few moments, he pulls away and looks up at you almost expectantly. "Was that alright..?" You blink. "Yeah, yes. Definitely. More than alright. That was- Yeah" Although your response mildly confused him, he took it as a good thing. "What next?" His voice is unbelievably soft as he speaks. Unriddled with vulnerability.

"I guess we should.." You exhale, your chest heaving as you did "take off the rest of our clothes" His eyes widen momentarily before he agrees. You slide yourself down his lap a bit to reach his waist. He leans back against the headboard of the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as he watches you unbuckle his belt. His member was painfully hard inside his trousers and creating a large bulge. He swallows thickly once you get his trousers undone. Part of him had doubted it'd actually go this far. Yet here you were. He lifts his hips, making it easier for you to pull his trousers and briefs down his legs. Another wave of heat washes over you at the sight of his bare body. The look on your face kind of scared Neville. "You're staring.." He points out awkwardly, snapping you out of your daze.

"I know I am" Without wasting anymore time, you quickly shed yourself of your bottoms. "Do you want to be on top or bottom?" The question instantly flustered him and he stammers a bit before giving a proper answer. "Which do you want?" You pause momentarily. Guy on top was traditional, first time wise anyway. "You on top" He nods meekly and then you very awkwardly switch places. He stared down at you with nervous eyes. You part your legs for him and hw swallows thickly, his cheeks growing impossibly red. Hesitation was written into his body language. His tongue slips out to wet his lips as he contemplates what to do now. After a moment, he moves closer between your legs as he grabs ahold of his length with one hand.

"Is there somewhere I'm supposed to touch first..?" You nod. "Yeah, the top" He swallows again. Gently, he guides himself to press his tip to your aching clit. You gasp softly, which quickly turns into a low hum as he rubs himself in small circles against you. He let out a small whimper at the feeling. His tip was sensitive and you were so slick.. His body trembled lightly at the unfamiliar pleasure. A few circles later, he moved to press his tip to your throbbing entrance. "Here?" His voice trembled as he spoke. Upon your confirmation, he exhaled shakily. "Can I start..?" His eyes held a look of desperation, and his breathing was far from even. "Please" You voice comes out a whisper that only sent more shivers down Neville's spine. Slowly, he began to push into you. As he does, he lets out a needy whine with his face contorting in pleasure.

Once he's sheathed inside you he pauses, a weak whimper leaving him. He takes a few moments before slowly starting to move his hips. With each gentle thrust he gave, he let out a small whimper or moan. He was a bit tense at first, but seemed to relax easily. His movements became more comfortable, though he was far from rough. His eyes were dark if open at all. So completely unashamedly vocal. Still, not loud enough for to be heard outside the room. You too, let out a chain of your own sighs and noises. They only spurred him on further. After a few minutes his hips suddenly jerked uncontrollably, like he was trying to push deeper into you. His face contorted heavily in pleasure and a small cry left his lips.

It was a sound you definitely couldn't see getting old. Very gently, he pulled out with a weak whine. "Was I okay..?" He questioned through panting breaths. "Yeah.." You manage to respond a few seconds later. He felt like melting. Or as if he legs had suddenly become jelly. Despite it though, he managed to lean down and press a soft kiss to your lips.

"Thank you, Y/N."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 15

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You find the kitchen. There’s a woman there. She looks just as surprised as you. 

You scuff to a stop across from her and give a toothy smile, “hi.” 

She hesitates, “good morning...” Her confusion nestles in her forehead. “Friend of Thor’s?” 

You think about it, “I know him. Sorta.” 

She pokes her tongue between her lips thoughtfully, “I’m not his wife. Yet. If you and him are... you know...” 

“Huh? Oh, no. No.” You show your palms. “That’s definitely not it. A friend of a friend, really.” 

“Ah,” she looks almost disappointed that you’re not sleeping with her ‘not husband yet’. “Oh, you must be one of the guests.” 

“I guess I would,” you nod. “I’m not tryna impose but do you have somewhere I can hide.” 

“Hide?” She echoes. 

“Um, I just need space. To think. You gotta know how it is. Right? Girl power?” You cringe. 

She snorts, “alright, I can find you somewhere, but you know, they don’t give up.” 

“They?” 

“The men. These type of men,” her tone turns dire. “You want some coffee? I just made a pot. Be nice to have. Alone.” She turns to open a cupboard, “At least, I imagine so.” 

“Sure, uh,” you sway and look over your shoulder. “My caffeine addiction is a bit of a bitch. Pardon my language.” 

She pours into a clear double-walled mug and nears. She wears a robe that’s too big for her. It must be Thor’s. Oh, you shouldn’t think too hard about that. 

“So, you’re with Rogers, was it? How long have you been together?” She hands over the mug and beckons you to another doorway. 

“Together? No, I work for him. I’m an accountant.” 

“Uh huh, he just brings his accountant everywhere?” 

“Well, he’s doing business with Thor, right? So I’m here to do numbers.” 

“Loki can do those and he doesn’t really seem like the type for teamwork,” she says. 

“Sure, uh, but... I don’t know.” 

“You like flowers? I think your best bet is the gazebo but I can always find some dark corner inside,” she says. 

“Oh, outside would be nice. Maybe the fresh air will help with the fainting.” 

“Fainting?” She wonders. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“If you say so,” she shrugs. 

“Oh, by the way, I’m Queenie. Obviously I’m... with Thor.” 

“Uh, yes, hi,” you introduce yourself in turn. 

“Out here,” she guides you through a back door and down a winding path. You marvel at the scenery. 

“Wow, this place is so amazing. You really live here?” 

“Sure do. At least I can appreciate the flowers,” she agrees. 

She doesn’t sound especially elated with her circumstance. You can relate to that. You come up next to her and balance your mug. 

“You know, he totally ruined my job.” 

“Hm?” She hums. 

“Steve. I was supposed to start a new one and he made me come here instead.” 

She takes you around to a gazebo and stops at the lower step, “these kinda men also don’t hear no, do they?” 

“Yeah, super annoying. Erm, thanks for the coffee. Sorry if I got in your way.” 

“Not at all. I’d love to stay and hide with you but... better if I don’t,” she glances toward the house. “If I see him, I never saw you.” 

“Thanks,” you blow out in relief. “I owe you.” 

“Nah,” she waves you off. “Girl power, right?” 

“Yessssss,” you grin. 

She turns and traipses away, in no hurry to get back to the house. You climb the steps, careful not to spill, and sit on the bench against the wall. The smell of pollen and leaves tickle your nose. It’s as calm as you’ve been in days. Weeks, even. 

As you ruminate with your coffee, you think about Queenie and what she said. How could she think you and Steve are together? From what you gather, he just broke up with someone. Peggy? You can’t keep track. 

You empty the mug and leave it on the bench. You watch the birds from between the vine canopy around the gazebo. The day shifts and your stomach stirs. You are hungry. 

You sit and take out your phone. Your battery is low. You should save it.  

You’re just so frustrated with everything. Not just Steve but yourself. What’s going on with you that you can’t stop passing out like some damsel in distress? I mean, he is scary but he hasn’t hurt you. Yet. 

Oh stop that! You’re just here to count. That’s your job. It’s the one thing you know how to do. 

You pace around restlessly. You can’t stay here forever. You know that the longer you do, the worse it will be. You’ll be awkward at best and he’ll be angry at most. But he deserves it! How can he just ruin your whole life because he wants to make some shady deal with a criminal like him? 

“So, you going to sleep out here or what?” Steve’s timbre makes you trip and you turn to face him. 

He stands at the bottom of the stares, arms crossed, jaw set. You can’t see all of him but he still looks massive. And dangerous. 

You glower and shake your head. You’re not ready. Yet, what choice do you have? You’re starting to understand those things Queenie said; or rather, didn’t say. 

“You’re just gonna give me the silent treatment, huh?” He climbs the stairs heavily so you flinch with each step. “I don’t get it. Got you nice clothes, took you on a nice trip...” You shake your head and angle so your shoulder is to him. “I been nice to you, sweetheart. It’s why I don’t get this fainting business. I haven’t been violent to anyone who didn’t deserve it.” 

You lower your chin and stare at your lap. The things you want to say might just earn his violence. So you’re better off to stay quiet. 

“We have an agreement. You gotta do the numbers,” he nears, a shadow mirroring your own. “So...” 

“I had an agreement with someone else!” You stand and stomp your foot. “I had a job, an apartment, I had--” You blink and gulp, filling your cheeks with air as you catch your exasperation. You back up and shake your head. “Sorry... no, I’m not sorry. But I am...” you gesture helplessly. “Why me? Why do I have to come here? I didn’t want to!” 

You dare to look at him. You can’t read his face. His eyes flick up and down. He pushes his jacket back and slides his hands in his pockets. 

“Cause I wanted you to.” 

“Because-- because—that's it? Because you felt like it?” 

His cheek dimples and he clicks your tongue, “are we being honest, right now? Is that what this is because you’re toeing a lot of lines, sweetheart.” 

Your lips thin and you hug yourself. “I guess.” 

“Alright, let’s be honest,” he steps closer and the back of your legs touch the bench behind you. “I think you’re cute. I like the way you get all wobbly-headed and I like catching you when you lose it. It’s fun.” 

“Fun?” You scoff. “It’s not--” you blink and shake off the ripple in your vision, “no...” 

“It’s gonna happen now, isn’t it?” His mouth slants. 

“No,” you argue and raise your hand, extending your arm to keep your balance. You reach behind you and slowly sit. “I’m not going to pass out.” 

“Oh, you’re not? Not knowing that I like to toy with you,” he gets even closer, bending to look you in the face. “That I’m not even close to done with you?” You inhale deeply as that woozy glaze fogs your head. His eyes are so blue, so bold. He grabs your chin. “That I’m gonna play with you until you’re broken and there’s not a damn thing you can do to stop me.” 

You gurgle and latch onto his wrist. He chuckles as you try to pull him off of you, instead leaning into him as your brain speckles hotly. Oh no. Your lashes flutter and stick as he eases you forward. Your body slackens and you’re hurled into the blackness once more. 

[celtrist]

Need to reblog this because all of these are excellent points. I didn't even THINK how many stories we missed until @mimblizzy said it. But MAN was that disappointing to realize. For me, it was from the perspective of visuals and visual storytelling. Hazbin having a rundown, old building for the hotel is what gave the premise of the show charm. Because it was an underdog story with so many things going against them. But now they have, in bible, the literal third strongest being in existence. Like the Vees are NOT a threat in the next season. I mean, they are, but by all accounts, they're a downgrade from the FIRST MAN. But that's a story not related to the building.

And while I don't have a huge issue with the hotel being rebuilt and all nice and perfect, it doesn't feel earned. If we had time with this old rundown building, and had those episodes of the crew dealing with the crappy things about it, the rebuilding would feel earned. But I would say unless you were one of the people who already knew Hazbin and were waiting for the amazon series, viewers didn't have a huge attachment to the building itself. They may have had an attachment to the CHARACTERS and THEIR reaction to the destruction of the hotel, but not the building itself. Which considering the show's name is "Hazbin HOTEL", the hotel IS something people should connect with. Sort of like "sure it's unsanitary and barely working, but it's cozy and familiar for us and OUR mess". But we never really saw the hotel non-functioning and are already getting a huge upgrade that wouldn't have those "underdog" vibes. And this would fit fine it it wasn't in THE FIRST SEASON they did this.

And that's to also add that Hazbin Hotel has a biiiit of an awkward thing that, by all accounts take all the scenes that happen in the hotel and they don't really NEED to happen in the hotel. It's very good to have characters interact with their environment in a story as it gives space and grounding. And it's what's normal for people, like think of in your home. You are interacting with your environment in your house all the time. And Hazbin Hotel didn't have moments in the hotel where characters interacted with the environment like that of a hotel. Niffty rolling on a trolley would've been a nice touch. Even the suggested episodes above make this point essentially and would've added to the connection between the residents and viewers to the hotel as well as giving the hotel a personality. When we got to "Dad Beat Dad", it was sorta like the hotel just SUDDENLY for that episode only decided to be a bit more rundown. But if we saw, hell, if we at least HEARD about the problems the hotel had before, the disarray of the building wouldn't feel so random and out of nowhere when we get to ep. 5. I know for me, it didn't initially feel as weird for the "rundown disarray" feel that Lucifer had towards the building and the building suddenly having issues like a chandelier falling because I KNEW that's what the hotel was supposed to be. I've known them since 2019, but for someone who wasn't as aware, it probably seemed a bit random. Then again, the show is kinda charismatic so it is sorta easy to miss glaring issues. With that said, it should be important to note too that I don't think the building was a hotel initially. If I remember right, it was just an old random building the Morningstars had. But that's something that would've been nice to know and learn about, maybe build some connection between Charlie and the building so viewers can feel that much more for her when the building is gone.

Sorry, that got more into a rant than I planned (as is usual for me with this series, I like it I swear). I just got bummed out with all the missed opportunities and how bad of a move the remodeling of the hotel is when it's only been season 1. Again, it's not earned. That's probably my biggest issue. Rebuilding the hotel wasn't earned as we didn't really ever see it "at its worst". We didn't see its problems. We didn't see how the residents really felt or connected with the building. We didn't get accustomed to the building and have a connection to it. And when the core premise surrounds this hotel, I feel like it should be important that we DO build that connection with a freaking building. But we didn't. We arguably don't even spend all that much time forming that connection with the building. It was just another piece of the environment, not something personal to the characters and in turn to the viewers.

The environments are super nice in this show, but having the interior of the hotel be more messy, maybe have a bit more of other resident's flare around (Like maybe Vaggie having a dummy in the main room or Angel leaving stuff around), I don't feel warm and cozy in seeing the ramshackle hotel. It feels to me empty. Which is upsetting since I feel like a more smaller vibe for the hotel would've been great to counter the clean, superficial vibes the VVV tower should give. Like the hotel isn't really great, even a health hazard, but it's home and has heart. Whereas the VVV tower has all the best things, nothing's rundown, but it's all superficial and empty feeling. But we didn't get that, the hotel is arguably just as empty feeling as the VVV tower, lacking a connection with the viewers as well as the characters.

But we didn't get that. The hotel just got an upgrade. That's it. It doesn't feel satisfying. It would've felt SO GOOD to see that upgrade when we were seeing the hotel broken down and a mess, but we didn't. It was relatively fine quite honestly aside from the bugs Niffty was chasing. And to be clear, I get they only had so much time. 20 mins and 8 episodes are not a lot. But this does not change that Hazbin is arguably a poorly written show, if not at least passable. It does not change that I full-heartedly believe they could've approached it and written it better. I understand that they wanted to get everything out because of the long wait and wanted to make sure they were able to get through everything within at least 2 seasons. Especially the long wait, I understand Spindle probably felt like they needed to bring in the angels, have a redemption, introduce Lucifer, and all that. I. Get. That. But I don't think they approached it well. I think, even if scarier for them, they should've been willing to be more risky. 8 Episodes isn't a lot for a plot-driven show, but it's adequate for a SLICE OF LIFE show. Which, was sort of the initial thought with what was originally planned (and sure, I still have issues that they wanted to introduce Lucifer early but whatever). Eight episodes of slice of life were what people thought it would be and good to introduce the characters, build their relationships with one another, and connect to the building with all of its faults. Then you can get into plot stuff in season 2. A rushed work to get everything on the plate is not as good, and won't be remembered/rewatched as much as taking the time to do these things. It would've been a big risk, but I would've preferred it rather than what we got. Especially since let's be honest, for the people who've been WAITING for this series? We were not all dying to know the plot with the angels. Like yes, we wanted it, but we were more interested to see the characters. How they interacted, relationships, personalities, stuff like that. I don't envy the tough position and understand it was the best they could do. And I get wanting to tell the story, I do. But Like Helluva, Hazbin detracted from the pilot's premise. Aaaand I'm gonna stop here because now I'm detracting from the point of my original post.

Again, sorry, ranting. It just frustrates me the more I realize things with how crappy that the hotel got revamped. Just- agh

Was looking at the hotel for a drawing and never realized the large degrade from the pilot design (on the left).

I think it was a good choice to simplify it down as the OG design was VERY complex compared to the new design (and some things like the carasoul up top didn't work well considering Alastor was moving his tower up to there). So while I like the pilot hotel more, 100% good move to change it to what we got.

HOWEVER, the pilot design gives that dingey, rundown feels SO MUCH better than the final design. I think background-wise the pilot is better in a lot of ways (like with colors, having them less saturated than the characters). But the hotel in the official series, especially the interior, didn't look as rundown and dingey as I think it was meant to.

You could argue "well Alastor could've spruced it up", but we see in the episode "Dad Beat Dad" a chandelier falling, cockroaches, and Lucifer clearly supposed to be unimpressed with the place. But the show had a very clean and nice looking hotel both interior and exterior. The pilot was good with it being dark and dirty feelings on both these ends. While the final design was super clean-looking but SUPPOSED to have a "roughness" to it, the pilot had a really nice exaggeration of its roughness that gave it a lot of character and made it more interesting. Between the two, I'm more interested in what's inside the pilot hotel than the final design. And it sorta sucks because season 1 ALREADY had the hotel rebuilt all nice and pretty (which like Lucifer showing up, SHOULD'VE been saved for a later season. I get why they did it, but I think the risk of not doing it in season 1 would've had a stronger payoff in the later seasons).

Again, I think it was obviously the right call not to make the hotel so complex for the show. However, there's a stronger mood and personality to the pilot hotel over the final one that feels like it wants to look super nice but it is supposed to be seen as rundown and needs to be fixed-up. And that sucks because I would've loved seeing the rundown place, but we really just got a nice-looking hotel that, in the universe, isn't supposed to be seen as "nice looking" or "clean" (and issues with the hotel concerning its structure and everything was ONLY brought up in "Dad Beat Dad". Little details like a character saying the plumbing was broken AGAIN or things breaking/falling in the background or something would've gone a long way).

It's just a bit of a bummer that the hotel really lost the mood and personality that it did have in the pilot when I really think they honestly could've kept those aspects without making it super complex. I don't dislike the final hotel design, but I don't like the lack of personality and mood it's SUPPOSED to have that the other design achieves.

[twopoppies]

hi! im a new larrie and ive been reading a lot of your and other accounts masterposts but there are still some things im kinda confused about.

regarding bbg, im really confused on why B and her family would even agree to it in the first place. like when (or if) bbg ends and its revealed F isn't actually L's son, B and her family are going to receive sooo much hate so idk why they would even agree to be portrayed as the "villains" in L's life.

when B and her family were shitting on L and saying he was like his bio dad, was that also part of their plan? I feel like those things come from genuine anger and idk why they would agree to make L look bad.

some stunts still confuse me. like with holivia, she was in a relationship with Jason and the media made it seem like he was desperate to get her back, so was he also willingly participating in this stunt? if he was, I have hard time figuring out why lol. or with Caroline flack, she received a lot of hate bc of their age difference so why would they agree?

these are just some of the main things ive been wondering lol. thanks!

Hi darling. I'm glad to hear you're looking into things and thinking critically. I'll answer your questions, but these are my opinions. None of us know for sure why any of these people did anything.

I think when Briana and her family agreed to this, it was originally just to make some fast money. I really don't think it was meant to even get to the point of having an actual baby being used, and it certainly wasn't meant to last for 10+ years. I've said I think Louis doubling down on being a dad is because of some sort of legal issues that have complicated the matter. I think the Clarks/Briana are caught up in the same problem. I believe that they were initially sold the idea that Briana would be the baby mama and then Louis would say he took a paternity test and oh, it's not his kid. Louis would have his profile raised and Briana/the Clarks would get a bunch of money (the Clarks appear to have filed for bankruptcy the year BBG started, and Briana clearly spent all of her money on plastic surgery).

The Clark family and Briana were loose canons and posted all sorts of ridiculous stuff in the first five years. I don't think anyone was really in control of what they were doing. Certainly not Louis, who was pretending BBG didn't exist, and not Simon/Syco/Sony because they started the whole thing to tank Louis' reputation/punish him/get rid of Larry support, etc. If there was anger there it was more likely to do with wanting more money.

As far as Jason Sudeikis is concerned, it's possible Olivia blindsided him (given the fact that he was still referring to her as his partner so close to the debut of holivia). IMO, anything that was made to look as though he wanted her back, or anything making him look like he'd been cheated on, was dirty PR. Jason was the only one who came out smelling like roses. His show was more popular than ever, he won a bunch of Emmys, and he was on the covers of magazines... all because he was positioned as this "poor guy who is just taking care of kids while his ex cheated on him and is a floozy running around with a younger man." It was a PR war between his team (the same one currently representing Justin Baldoni) and hers (who is known to be equally as aggressive).

Caroline Flack worked for Simon Cowell/X-Factor when she was involved with bearding Harry. I'd imagine it's not very easy to say no to Simon when he's in a position of control over you. Also, there was way less public hate for the age difference at the time. Harry was treated as a sex object who loved older women practically from day one, and barely anyone batted an eye. As to why she continued to pretend she dated Harry, I have no clue – it could have been a contract she was unable to get out of, or maybe she liked the attention it brought her (especially as he became more and more famous). There's just absolutely no way that was a real relationship. Even if you don't think Harry and Louis had a long-term love affair, Haroline was in 2011. Take a look at any video of Harry and Louis from that time – it's so obvious they were besotted with each other.

[edenprime]

One of the strongest points of Mass Effect, if not the strongest, is just how well written the characters are. From Shepard, to the squad, to the side characters like Anderson and Bakara, to barely-there NPCs like Ereba and Charr the lovers, Etarn Tiro the enthusiastic turian merchant, Kargesh the krogan who wanted a fish, Lia'Vael, the quarian who gets falsely accused of theft, and the Salarian who wants to buy a memento to his asari lover to remember him by once he's dead.

I feel like so many of them are memorable, and they all serve a purpose to the overall world building. The krogan show that they are not the violent thugs the galaxy has made them out to be. The salarian shows the struggle born out of building relationships with people of a species with a life expectancy so beyond your own. Lia'Vael illustrates what Tali says about the quarians being treated like second class citizens. Those small little side quests have a meaning and a purpose, it doesnt feel like they are Just There, and they add more to the lore of them game to those who care about that stuff.

[ch1zzie]

The original in the bottom

Plus the picture I mainly drew but decided to draw the rest for funny

[ofbravedemons]

The green jello was a choice for sure. Billie had tended to upon patients to realize most enjoyed the red or orange, but green was her favorite. The off chance she decided to grab a jello with her lunch in the cafeteria. She saw that amused expression, the ster shock on Conrad’s face now. But I brushed it off to my own. ‘ Everyone leaves the green jello out in the dust, I don’t know I like it, maybe I’m the odd one then.’ I said refusing to shrug my shoulders knowing my body could erupt in pain. The stinging blazing through my head was enough, probably from the internal bleeding, which was all irony now considering I was the Neuro surgeon, the chief of surgeon and I was left to peel back the pieces now. 

Billie did appreciate Conrad being here; on the day the whole damn hospital was hoping or praying the man would sign back onto the staff. Chastain wasn’t the same without him. Gigi was happy, she loved the daycare, and in the years since he left; I helped carpool her home, we’re family. So I wasn’t shocked or in disbelief with Conrad’s insistence to be here, to tend to my wounds. But I hated feeling small vulnerable now. But at the notion of all the people who didn’t like Conrad Hawkins when they first met him, his cocky attitude his desire to be right; not taking anyone’s opinions into account, I had to hold my laugh now, as I was on that list too. Conrad and I only tolerated each other once upon a time for Nic. I was her best friend, and Conrad was the love of her life. But now; life was funny, I liked having Conrad around. I liked how I felt with him, seen, cared for. A developed crush maybe? God that was scary all on its own. 

“ You know once I didn’t like you all that much, and you hated me for my reckless behavior in an or.” An obvious; all the fights the male and I had once, but now he wanted me to stay with him, was it friendship? Family? An obligation to the other on behalf of Nic? I had no idea. “ But look at us now, friends, family. I’d do anything for you and Gigi, i hope you know that.” An honest observation, a thought as she nodded slowly not to bring more pain to her head. “ You get my jello, and I’ll think about the offer, okay.” A promise a glimmer in her eye now, as she truly meant it. An answer was made; Billie had healing to do, and there was no one she trusted more than Conrad.

Continued.

@tightensthebolt

Feeling small almost broken. It had been years since Billie had let her fall apart from that night. The night she lost a piece of herself. A night she had stopped trusting men and relationships. Not to say Billie didn’t spend time with men since she was 13 because that was a lie. She slept with men that wanted no strings, that were one night stands. She built herself up, she put herself onto a pedestal because she wanted to protect herself. Two dreadful days in her life; the day she found out she had been taken advantage of by Porter and that same day she found out she was pregnant. The other was a vague memory of holding her son for the first and last time before she let him go. 

A toll she now carried with her, all the demons she hint to be the surgeon she was. Numbness, emotionless it’s who she was. To avoid being hurt. But the looming truth of Porter his crimes sitting in the backburner it now haunted her. Billie had to consider Trevor which is why she had stayed silent, AJ had warned her the birdy in her ear to let her know her son wanted to find his dad; and she lied. She felt helpless even now as she felt on edge. She felt Conrad’s syspathic gaze, it was sweet he didn’t try to tell her he understood, instead he fought his own anger urges; the tightness of the line veins on his forehead; on his neck said it for him. Instead he was just a friend; someone she could lean on. A gentle smile a real one lifted to her brims as she pushed her coffee into her hand. She was preoccupied enough to reject coffee which was the indication Billie was far from okay.

“ Thank you, for being an ear, for not telling me you understood. I don’t want to feel broken. I’m better than this.” Brokenness written in her voice when it cracked. She hated being vulnerable so she was almost relieved when Conrad changed the topic to his debate on career moves. Billie offered a gentle smile as she lifted herself onto her feet. Forgotten coffee had fallen to the trash as hands fell to her sides. She listened intently to Conrad speak; she understood. She did. Because since Nic; he never wanted GiGi to be without a parent or feel abandoned it was part of the why he went to a private practice to begin with. Why we were forced to have coffee meet ups with my busy schedule, being the Chief of Surgeon now; the title made my heart leap on its own content. The brunette gave a silent nod as she stepped outside as he held the door for them both. 

Not that Billie didn’t see Gigi all the time, I spent Sundays at the house, we had little tea parties, and if Conrad ever had to work late I’d be the one he called to help him. We were family; Nic’s absence was heavy in our hearts; but I knew Nic, she would never want him to give up on his dreams, and it sounded like he was settling for what worked best for Gigi. I could tell with the way he spoke regarding the private Practice. A hand extended out to pat his forearm touch lingered briefly. 

“ It wasn’t all Bell.” Lips pulled together in amusement. “ At my Tea Parties with GiGi I may not have mentions all the rainbow fish books she adores on full display, along with the astronomy books I know she’d love. Cause she’s a astronaut in the making, Hate to break it to you.” A laugh escaped her lips as she dropped her hand before turning serious as our walkway path inched closer to Chastian. “ I think you’re settling for her benefit. And Nic wouldn’t want that for you or her. Talk to Kit explain you’ll come back but shorten hours only work morning shifts unless emergency came up. That you’re a devoted dad, but you do desire to return. But on your terms.” Conrad was a big part of our team; something told me Kit would give him whatever he wanted if it meant Conrad was a doctor had Chastian again. 

Just my two cents.

[sysig]

It’ll all go fine if you’d just don’t worry about it, probably (Patreon)

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[satoxurse]

Eyes followed Suguru as he disappeared back into the school, his words hanging heavy in the air from where he once stood. The quiet would continue to be filled with the wildlife enjoying the suns rays, the occasional brush of air caressing his exposed skin and lightly ruffling his snowy locks. Whilst the coolness of the wind was certainly welcome on this hot day, it hardly provided any comfort for him.

At least, not the comfort he needed.

Does Suguru truly think that lowly of him? That Satoru was only going to keep him around for some form of stress relief only to then give him up? Sure, maybe he once had that sort of reputation, but did he not realise that he was… so much different from the others?

To begin with, never would Satoru have begged for someone to stay. To tell him what he needed to do. If it were someone different, he would’ve shrugged them off and let them leave. They wouldn’t have meant all that much to him, anyway.

Satoru remained outside for a few more moments, letting his mind cling onto everything that Suguru had spat at him with, before he finally decided to get his body in motion and continue his walk on the grounds. Maybe an hour or so of fresh air would help.

. . .

It had been another few days since their last interaction.

And still. Nothing new happened.

Satoru would be sitting outside on the flight of stairs nearby the training grounds, sucking on some strawberry lollipop he had picked out at the store the other day. His chin was propped in the palm of his hand whilst his other hand idly fidgeted with a lollipop stick he had previously eaten, spinning it around between his fingers and using his technique to play around with it.

Since Suguru’s outburst, the male had been doing a lot of thinking. Too much of it, maybe. It certainly had affected his sleep, that’s for sure. But the more he dwelled on it, the more he realised that…

…annoyingly enough. Suguru was right. He had been selfish. He had been so absorbed in his new title as the strongest sorcerer; had been so focused on the endless missions he had been assigned; had been so consumed with work that he never truly put his thoughts onto the one that mattered most.

However, he had pride. Too much of it. Admitting that he was wrong and taking accountability also meant exposing a weakness that he couldn’t bring himself to do. After all, he was the strongest. Many depended on him. Many expected a lot from him. And hell, he needed to uphold those standards to ensure no one would view him as anything but strong.

And yet… it was this mentality that was driving Suguru away. Hindering their relationship.

Satoru was stuck. Simply put.

— a moment of vulnerability ;;

&. a closed-rp thread ft. satoru gojo + suguru geto. ( @cursestastelikeshit )

It was another day of missions for Satoru.

Hours alone in the field, with the same gargling sounds of curses ringing in his ears; the same stench of God knows what filling his nostrils; the same familiar buzz of his own technique at work as he finished off exorcising those last few curses on his to-do list.

It’s not that the work was taxing. Physically, he was fine. Nothing could touch him so long as he kept Infinity up, and as long as he found that perfect balance of offence and defence so he didn’t wear himself out? It was like finding a pot to piss in.

Easy work.

But, ah. What he really wanted right now was to collapse into a mattress and do what he was best at—whine. To complain about his day and demand for physical touch whilst his oh-so-beloved Suguru gave into him. He’d play with his hair and listen to him yap about his day, and they’d eventually either snuggle for the rest of the evening, make out or more.

Tonight, however, he could really do with a warm hug from him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something felt different. Something in his head that made him want to pout, actually. He couldn’t be bothered dealing with such trivial emotions, so maybe Suguru could help with that, too.

So, as per routine, it shouldn’t come as a surprise once those familiar knocks on Suguru’s door echoed in the narrow hallway, Satoru’s other hand nestled in his pocket as he slouched by the door.

“Suguru,” he’d call out from the other side, huffing quietly when the door didn’t open immediately after he had made his presence known. What gives? Suguru should be skipping to the door with joy to see him again! Didn’t he miss him?

“Let me in~. I want to see you. It’s been so hard, and I’ve missed you.”

[herenvibing]

cr3 is gonna end and the pc’s still feel like the same people to me :|

(crcritical content in the tags feel free to skip)