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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months ago

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Quinque gazump linkdump

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

It's Saturday and any fule kno that this is the day for a linkdump, in which the links that couldn't be squeezed into the week's newsletter editions get their own showcase. Here's the previous 23 linkdumps:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

Start your weekend with some child's play! Ada & Zangemann is a picture book by Matthias Kirschner and Sandra Brandstätter of Free Software Foundation Europe, telling the story of a greedy inventor who ensnares a town with his proprietary, remote-brickable gadgets, and Ada, his nemesis, a young girl who reverse engineers them and lets their users seize the means of computation:

https://fsfe.org/activities/ada-zangemann/index.en.html

Ada & Zangemann is open access – you can share it, adapt it, and sell it as you see fit – and has been translated into several languages. Now, there's a cartoon version, an animated adaptation that is likewise open access, with digital assets for your remixing pleasure:

https://fsfe.org/activities/ada-zangemann//movie

Figuring out how to talk to kids about important subjects is a clarifying exercise. Back in the glory days of SNL, Eddie Murphy lampooned Fred "Mr" Rogers style of talking to kids, and it was indeed very funny:

https://snl.fandom.com/wiki/Mr._Robinson

But Mr Rogers' rhetorical style wasn't as simple as "talk slowly and use small words" – the "Fredish" dialect that Mr Rogers created was thoughtful, empathic, inclusive, and very effective:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/07/09/the-nine-rules-of-freddish-the-positive-inclusive-empathic-language-of-mr-rogers/

Lots of writers have used the sing-songy fairytale style of children's stories to make serious political points (see, e.g. Animal Farm). My own attempt at this was my 2011 short story "The Brave Little Toaster," for MIT Tech Review's annual sf series. If the title sounds familiar, that's because I nicked it from Tom Disch's tale of the same name, as part of my series of stolen title stories:

https://locusmag.com/2012/05/cory-doctorow-a-prose-by-any-other-name/

My Toaster story is a tale of IoT gone wild, in which the nightmare of a world of "smart" devices that exert control over their owners is shown to be a nightmare. A work colleague sent me this adaptation of the story as part of an English textbook, with lots of worksheet-style exercises. I'd never seen this before, and it's very fun:

http://ourenglishclass.net/wp-content/uploads/sites/6/2024/09/bravetoaster.pdf

If you like my "Brave Little Toaster," you'll likely enjoy my novella "Unauthorized Bread," which appears in my 2019 collection Radicalized and is currently being adapted as a middle-grades graphic novel by Blue Delliquanti for Firstsecond:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/

Childlike parables have their place, but just because something fits in a "just so" story, that doesn't make it true. Cryptocurrency weirdos desperately need to learn this lesson. The foundation of cryptocurrency is a fairytale about the origin of money, a mythological marketplace in which freely trading individuals who struggled to find a "confluence of needs." If you wanted to trade one third of your cow for two and a half of my chickens, how could we complete the transaction?

In the "money story" fairy tale, we spontaneously decided that we would use gold, for a bunch of nonsensical reasons that don't bear even cursory scrutiny. And so coin money sprang into existence, and we all merrily traded our gold with one another until a wicked government came and stole our gold with (cue scary voice) taaaaaaxes.

There is zero evidence for this. It's literally a fairy tale. There is a rich history of where money came from, and the answer, in short is, governments created it through taxes, and money doesn't exist without taxation:

https://locusmag.com/2022/09/cory-doctorow-moneylike/

The money story is a lie, and it's a consequential one. The belief that money arises spontaneously out of the needs of freely trading people who voluntarily accept an arbitrary token as a store of value, unit of account, and unit of exchange (coupled with a childish, reactionary aversion to taxation) inspired cryptocurrency, and with it, the scams that allowed unscrupulous huxters to steal billions from everyday people who trusted Matt Damon, Spike Lee and Larry David when they told them that cryptocurrency was a sure path to financial security:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/15/your-new-first-name/#that-dagger-tho

It turns out that private money, far from being a tool of liberation, is rather just a dismal tool for ripping off the unsuspecting, and that goes double for crypto, where complexity can be weaponized by swindlers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/13/the-byzantine-premium/

We don't hear nearly as much about crypto these days – many of the pump-and-dump set have moved on to pitching AI stock – but there's still billions tied up in the scam, and new shitcoins are still being minted at speed. The FBI actually created a sting operation to expose the dirtiness of the crypto "ecosystem":

https://www.theverge.com/2024/10/10/24267098/fbi-coin-crypto-token-nexgenai-sec-doj-fraud-investigation

They found that the exchanges, "market makers" and other seemingly rock-ribbed institutions where suckers are enticed to buy, sell, track and price cryptos are classic Big Store cons:

http://www.amyreading.com/the-9-stages-of-the-big-con.html

When you, the unsuspecting retail investor, enter one of these mirror-palaces, you are the only audience member in a play that everyone else is in on. Those vigorous trades that see the shitcoin you're being hustled with skyrocketing in value? They're "wash trades," where insiders buy and sell the same asset to one another, without real money ever changing hands, just to create the appearance of a rapidly appreciating asset that you had best get in on before you are priced out of the market.

This scam is as old as con games themselves and, as with other scams- S&Ls, Enron, subprime – the con artists have parlayed their winnings into social respectability and are now flushing them into the political system, to punish lawmakers who threaten their ability to rip off you and your neighbors. A massive, terrifying investigative story in The New Yorker shows how crypto billionaires stole the Democratic nomination from Katie Porter, one of the most effective anti-scam lawmakers in recent history:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/10/14/silicon-valley-the-new-lobbying-monster

Big Tech – like every corrupt cartel in history – is desperate to conjure a kleptocracy into existence, whose officials they can corrupt in order to keep the machine going until they've maximized their gains and achieved escape velocity from consequences.

No surprise, then, that tech companies have adopted the same spin tactics that sowed doubt about the tobacco-cancer link, in order to keep the US from updating its anemic privacy laws. The last time Congress gave us a new consumer privacy law was 1988, when they banned video store clerks from disclosing our VHS rental history to newspapers:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

By preventing confining privacy law to the VCR era, Big Tech has been able to plunder our data with impunity – aided by cops and spies who love the fact that there's a source of cheap, off-the-books, warrantless surveillance data that would be illegal for them to collect.

Writing for Tech Policy Press, the Norcal ACLU's Jake Snow connects the tobacco industry fight over "pre-emption" to the modern fight over privacy laws:

https://www.techpolicy.press/big-tech-is-trying-to-burn-privacy-to-the-ground-and-theyre-using-big-tobaccos-strategy-to-do-it/

In the 1990s, Big Tobacco went to war against state anti-smoking laws, arguing that the federal government had the right – nay, the duty – to create a "harmonized" national system of smoking laws that would preempt state laws. Strangely, politicians who love "states' rights" when it comes to banning abortion, tax-base erosion and "right to work" anti-union laws suddenly discovered federal religion when their campaign donors from the Cancer-Industrial Complex decided that states shouldn't use those rights to limit smoking.

This is exactly the tack that Big Tech has taken on privacy, arguing that any update to federal privacy law should abolish muscular state-level laws, like Illinois's best-in-class biometric privacy rules, or California's CPPA.

Like Big Tobacco, Big Tech has "funded front groups, hired an armada of lobbyists, donated millions to campaigns, and opened a firehose of lobbying money," with the goal of replacing "real privacy laws with fake industry alternatives as ineffective as non-smoking sections."

Whether it's understanding the origin of money or the Big Tobacco playbook, knowing history can protect you from all kinds of predatory behavior. But history isn't merely a sword and shield, it's also just a delight. Internet pioneer Ethan Zuckerman is road-tripping around America, and in August, he got to Columbus, IN, home to some of the country's most beautiful and important architectural treasures:

https://ethanzuckerman.com/2024/08/29/road-trip-the-company-town-and-the-corn-fields/

The buildings – clustered in within a few, walkable blocks – are the legacy of the diesel engine manufacturing titan Cummins, whose postwar president J Irwin Miller used the company's wartime profits to commission a string of gorgeous structures from starchitects like the Saarinens, IM Pei, Kevin Roche, Richard Meier, Harry Weese, César Pelli, Gunnar Birkerts, and Skidmore. I had no idea about any of this, and now I want to visit Columbus!

I'm planning a book tour right now (for my next novel, Picks and Shovels, which is out in February) and there's a little wiggle-room in the midwestern part of the tour. There's a possibility that I'll end up in the vicinity, and if that happens, I'm definitely gonna find time for a little detour!

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

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:

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solidwater05 · 4 months ago

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Doc uploads Hermitcraft on Fridays, and he said that he's recording something with Grian, and this season of the Life series is gonna come out on Saturdays instead of Fridays. just saying.

#life series #trafficblr #ice speaks #it's probably something else but it'd be funny if i was right

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flame-shadow · 9 months ago

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BF OC Collab

Hey there, been a while! I got busy and forgot to make a reminder post about this project. Oops! A few updates and then I'll re-share the important links.

Backdrops

We have permission to use two more backdrops from the NPC Collab (Abandoned Camp [Forsaken Lands] and Golden Settlement), so the full selection of backdrops now looks like this:

If you have submitted a character already but would prefer that character show up in one of the new backdrops, please resubmit. If you run into issues or have questions, feel free to DM me.

Collab Guide and Forms

The Collab Guide google doc (link here) has been updated to include information that has been decided or clarified since the start of the project. Most changes can be found in the "OC Allowances, Limitations, and Tips" and the "Some Questions You Might Have" sections. Please remember to read the guide first if you have questions. There's a good chance the answer is in there, and if it isn't, please send me a DM or ask so that I can answer your question.

Both the guide and the submission form have been updated to include the two new backdrop options. There will be no more backdrop options added past this point.

Misc

Remember that you can post and use the OC art you make for this collab. You can add them to artfight character profiles or upload them to your art account or whatever you want. You do not have to wait until the collab is complete!

If you would like to join the collab discord server, click here for the invite. (You are not required to join the server! You can participate just fine without interacting there)

Submit your character art to the Submission Form on or before Saturday, August 17, 2024.

#bug fables #bf oc collab #this slipped by me so I'm later with this update than I meant to be but at least it's here now :)

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darling-heffron · 20 days ago

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OMG I'm so sorry I was working over the weekend and I completely forgot to upload! So lucky you guys you get two chapters this week cause I will be posting the next one on Saturday!

Esra✨

Taglist: @malarkgirlypop , @mellow-human , @next-autopsy if anyone else wants to be added, please let us know!!

Chapter Fourteen: First Impressions

Mars POV:

Nerves bubbled in Marleen’s gut as she helplessly watched Sam being led into the rundown building. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to follow after the older girl but when she had tentatively taken a step towards the building, a firm hand was placed on her shoulder.

Already on edge, Mars flinched at the contact. Her head flicked around to see Denver standing by her side and she relaxed ever so slightly.

“She’ll be alright, Mars.” His thick southern accent should have been comforting to her but worry still swirled in her stomach. Marleen wanted to protest, she wanted to storm into the building after her friend and she wanted to tell Denver; ‘You don't know that!’

Instead she showed restraint, and only because she trusted that if Sam were in trouble she would be able to protect herself.

Mars knew Sam.

Okay, maybe she didn't know about the older woman’s past or her family. But so what? Sure, she wasn't privy to Sam’s birthday or star sign but she knew her.

Sam was tough, not just her mask that she wore. She was a fighter, a protector. Sam had saved Marleen the first time they had met. She had absolutely no reason to, she could've just kept walking and ignored the younger girl’s cries for help but she didn't.

Sam pretended not to care, to be indifferent to strangers but in reality, she cared very deeply.

Whatever Dougal had said to the taller girl had triggered something in her, she was acting differently; Weird. And it seemed like only Mars could see it.

“Come on, we'll start puttin’ up our tents. She'll come out soon.” Denver gently tugged on the girl's arm, steering her in the other direction.

Marleen was unsettled the entire time the two girls were separated. She hung back and stared at the mysterious building until something distracted her. Denver had noted his young neighbours' twitchiness and set up her tent for her.

“Hi, I heard you have an injured member?” An unknown male voice stole the young blonde away from her intense staring contest with the brick structure.

“Huh? Oh yeah- um.. Perconte.” It took a second for Mars to remember why they were even there in the first place, “This way…” She trailed off in hopes he would divulge his name. The thin man seemed to pick up on her hint.

“Gene. Eugene Roe. But most people call me Doc.” He followed her as she walked him towards her wounded associate.

“Marleen, but most people call me Mars. Are you a doctor?” Her curiosity got the best of her, a doctor would be handy to have around during the end of the world.

“No, I'm a nurse.” He didn't seem to be the chatty type, at least not when he had a patient to tend to. Speaking of patients, Perconte came into the pair's view.

“Frank. This is Eugene, he's here to help.” Marleen told the short man, who lay on his stomach, awaiting the arrival of assistance.

“I’m going to need to move him to the medical tent. Lieb! Tipper! Give me a hand.” The man gave him a quick once over, humming thoughtfully before announcing his plan of action.

The two men he called for appeared and all three of them skillfully moved the maimed Perco, but not without whining coming from Frank.

Denver had watched Mars interacting with the Easy men and tried to stay close to the young blonde, his protective nature reared its head when the short girl was involved. He looked away for barely a second and when he turned back, the girl was gone.

“Mars?” The southern man called out, the slight panic in his tone faded when he spotted her. She had seen Samantha and basically ran to her friend's side. Denver shook his head before continuing to fix the tents.

“Sam!” Marleen didn't waste a second before flinging herself onto the older girl.

“Are you okay?” The confusion in Sam’s voice was evident but she still wrapped her arms around her friend.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Mars pulled away from the tall blonde, “What happened in there?”

“Oh… nothing.” Samatha brushed the younger girl off, doing her best to appear nonchalant but Mars knew better. The girls began walking side by side towards their designated camping area.

“Sam.” She warned, looking sideways at the aloof woman.

“Did you set up our tent already?” It was her attempt to change the subject and distract Marleen, but she wasn't falling for it this time.

“Denver did.” Mars paused, “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Oh, well then, thank you, Denver!” Sam called over her shoulder, she didn't look to see his reaction but he did raise a hand to her in recognition, hardly pausing from his task. She was ignoring Marleen and the younger girl, who would typically let it slide, was starting to get annoyed.

“Sam,” The shorter woman followed steps behind as Sam led them into the heart of their campsite. They were now completely surrounded by members of their original group of eight, no Easy men in sight.

“Sam, would you just stop for a second and talk to me?” Marleen almost never raised her voice, especially at her female companion, who froze, giving Mars her full awareness. The men they had arrived with paused their actions and threw concerned looks around.

Now that she had the attention of the older woman, Marleen voiced her troubles.

“I-” Mars let out a tired sigh, “It feels weird… being here.”

“What do you mean?” This wasn't like Mars, she normally loved befriending strangers, so Sam had no choice but to hear the girl out and take her unease seriously.

“I just think we should be… careful. We don’t know this group and they’re a lot bigger than us. Plus I don’t really trust that Dougal guy, he gives me the ick for some reason but I can’t place it.”

“When we meet Luz you basically begged to let them join us, and now you want to get serious about stranger danger?” Sam only wished her young friend had applied this logic earlier.

“There were only three of them and five of us! It was different! Plus they needed food and seemed super nice.” Marleen reasoned.

“Well, some of them are okay. That Doc guy? He’s helping us like we helped Luz and Martin and Perco, what’s the difference?” Lipton brought up; a fair point. Why would this group help them, give them medical care and a safe place to sleep if they were planning something sinister?

“His name is Eugene. Eugene Roe. And he’s a nurse.” The young female couldn't help but interject with her newly learnt information.

“How do you know that?” Sam queried suspiciously, she had only been gone for a few minutes.

“I asked him, duh.” The short blonde rolled her eyes as if annoyed by the implication.

“See! You’re making friends already.” Lip pointed out, his tone was chipper as he tried to ease the tensions and soothe the youngest girl's discomfort. But his comment went ignored.

“Maybe Marleen’s right, we should stick together for a while, just until we can really trust them.” Martin added his voice to the conversation.

“Thank you! See, Martin gets it!” Mars called out with an exasperated sigh, she threw her arms up dramatically.

“Okay, we’ll stay together for a bit until we can suss them out, that sound fair to everyone?” Lipton offered, his calm tone lulled the group. Maybe this could work out?

There didn't seem to be any objections with Lipton’s suggestion, even though Mars couldn't shake the feeling, she would deal with it.

“Easy, they call themselves Easy.” Marleen interjected once again.

“For someone who wants to stay away from them, you sure know a lot about ‘em.” This time it was Sam’s turn to roll her eyes playfully at her companion.

Before she could respond, Sam had spotted movement out of the corner of her eye and swivelled round. A man that looked to be in his late twenties walked out from the unfinished structure.

“Fucking hell.” Sam mumbled under her breath, even from a distance this man was a literal walking embodiment of the young girl’s ‘type’. Tall, dark haired, handsome and covered in tattoos- all Marleen’s weaknesses rolling into one.

Sam sneakily stood in front of Mars blocking her vision from the approaching man. But she couldn’t spend her whole stay forever keeping the pair apart, they were eventually going to meet, especially when he was b-lining towards them.

“Mars.” Sam swung around and grasped the girl’s shoulders firmly. “You will not fall in love.”

Marleen’s brows scrunched together in confusion before a laugh escaped her lips.

“Did you hit your head somewhere?” The girl reached up to try and find an injury on the older girl’s head but Sam stopped her.

“Repeat it.” Sam shook her slightly to capture her attention.

Mars scoffed and rolled her eyes, Sam was acting so odd today, but still she compiled.

“I will not fall in-” Mars started but just as she was about to finish her sentence the most gorgeous man stepped into her view. She felt her mouth fall open as her heart skipped a beat.

“Love.” Mars finished the sentence with a dreamy tone.

Sam groaned, the girl had literal love hearts bursting from her eyes, Mars had clearly set her sights on him.

“No! Bad Marleen, bad!” Sam waved her pointer finger in front of the young girl's face but she wasn’t even paying attention, her stare was glued to the tall man that walked through the camp.

“Wow…” That was the only word the girl could conjure, every other thought had escaped her brain.

“Marleen Hazel Finch!” Sam was serious, if there was anything that really was off limits it was falling in love.

“Stay away from that man.” The older girl scolded.

“Too late.” The short blonde squeaked.

“What man?” At that exact moment the object of their conversation arrived.

Sam swivelled around giving a deadly stare, “It’s rude to eavesdrop.” She spat out, purposefully positioning herself so that Mars was somewhat hidden behind her.

But in a second, the shorter girl had side stepped around her tall friend and now stood in front of the stranger, a sweet smile on her face. She stuck her hand out and began to introduce herself with pink tinted cheeks.

“Mars-leen. Me, that's me name. Uh- MY name ha, it’s Marleen Hazel Finch, I don't know why I just told you my full name. You can just call me Mars, for short. As a nickname, you know?”

“Mars?” Sam interrupted. Both she, and everyone within earshot of Marleen’s word vomit were visibly cringing. She had to interject and stop the train wreck of embarrassment.

“Yeah?” She squeaked out, frozen in her spot and unable to look away from the handsome stranger in front of her, who seemed to be taking this odd interaction well. Or at least he was hiding it well, not an ounce of discomfort on his face, he just patiently waited for the girl to finish rambling.

“Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

“Walk away.” Sam was left with no choice but to aid her friend.

“Yes.” Mars spun on her heel, stopping in a random direction and walked with all the determination she could muster.

“Well, that was adorable.” The tall stranger smirked as he watched Mars’ retreating figure until she was almost completely out of view.

He said nothing more, just turned and left. But Sam didn't like the way he had looked at the younger girl, something about him rubbed her the wrong way.

“Well, they’ve certainly met.” Bull leant over to whisper to the tall girl.

“An actual disaster.” Sam’s head fell into her hands. “Should I jump that guy now or later?”

Bull chuckled quietly under his breath, but when he turned to look at Sam her face was completely serious.

“No, Sam. No jumping anyone. We don’t want to piss off this group.” The tall man said lowly.

“We just have to bide our time until Frank heals up.”

Sam growled in frustration. She hated this. There were so many people, everyone was chatting and getting in her space, it was driving her mad.

“I need some air.” The tall girl raked her hands through her hair trying to relieve the tension in her head.

Sam walked away from the group and rounded the back of the building. A sigh left her lips as she let her body sink down and pressed against the cool brick.

“Hiding already, Dollface?”

Every sense of peace that had flooded into her blood immediately vanished from the sound of his voice.

“Are you following me now, Creep?” Sam growled from her crouched position.

“No, I came to tell you, you aren’t allowed back here.” Lieb sank down to join her on the ground, “But since you’re a newbie I’ll let you off.”

Sam rolled her eyes rising from her spot. “Fine, I’ll find somewhere else.”

“The big man is eyeing you up already, you must be pretty impressive.” Lieb started talking as Sam took a step to leave.

“He just knows my father.” Sam brushed off the speculation.

“Mmmh, I wouldn’t say that. He was talking a big game about you, Miss Specialist.” Lieb knowingly provoked the younger girl.

Sam took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her fists. Low profile, we’re keeping a low profile.

She mustered the sweetest smile she could and plastered it to her face. She’d admit it most likely looked more like a snarl than it did a smile. Lieb raised up from his spot, walking closer to the girl until he stood within arms reach of Sam.

“Stay away from me.” It was a clear warning but still the man only smirked.

“Matter of fact stay away from everyone in my group.” The girl stepped forward so they were only inches apart.

A huff of amusement passed through his nose as he slowly dragged his eyes along the length of her body.

“I like you.” Liebgott whispered, his breath fanning her face and made the loose hairs around her cheeks tickle the sensitive skin.

“I don’t like you.” Sam bared her teeth and looked at him with a sinister glare.

“You’re cute when you’re mad.”

His hand shot out and everything slowed, she watched in pure shock and his fingers brushed a strand of her fallen hair from her face back behind her ear.

“See ya round, sweetheart.” Lieb walked off casually as Sam was still stuck in place.

Pure rage filled the girl's body as she harshly kicked the brick wall. Never in her life had she met someone so aggravating and she was best friends with Mars.

A shaky breath left her lips as she tried to calm herself down. Low profile, Sam. Low profile.

Bull was right, they just needed to keep their heads down until they could leave again.

—--------------------------------------

Toye’s POV:

Being called into the rundown building was usually a good thing but Toye’s stomach was in knots as he walked down the corridors and stopped in front of Dougals room.

He raised his hand to knock but before he could, a voice called out, “Come in.” Toye swung open the door and entered.

“Ah! Toye, I've been expecting you.” The older man spoke, “I have a special task for you.”

The younger male kept quiet, waiting for his superior to continue. Toye wasn't much of a talker and Dougal seemed to respect that, like it, even.

“The group that just arrived, you heard I assume?” Dougal tipped his head forward, awaiting reply, so this time he verbalised an answer.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good. Well, I want you to keep an eye on that girl.” Dougal lowered his voice. No one else was in the room yet his tone made this seem like a secret side quest that was for his ears only, “Report back to me with any information you get, I want to know everything, okay?”

“Which one?” Toye assumed they were talking about the same girl but wanted to be sure. Out of the pair of ladies one was certainly more menacing than the other.

“The shorter girl.”

“Her? Why?” Toye was yet to interact with her but had seen her enter with her group and spotted something in her that Dougal apparently hadn’t. He saw lightness, a flame of pure joy and kindness.

He had watched her from across the camp as she smiled and joked with her friends and certainly didn’t think she was capable of anything sinister but maybe Dougal had clocked something that he had missed.

“I just want to know if she’s going to be a problem… for the group, of course. I don’t want Easy to be jeopardised because of her, that’s all.” The older man explained nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it wasn’t so important to him.

Toye knew that was a facade, he could see this held meaning so he agreed, “Okay… and if she is a problem?”

“Eliminate the problem.” His words were final, there was no need for him to explain, Toye understood the unspoken meaning quite clearly and while the dark haired man was shocked at the brash order given to him, he kept his face stoic and free of any hint of emotion.

The younger man slowly nodded, Dougal took this as his sign to dismiss his underling, waving a hand lazily. Toye exited the area, now left with his own thoughts.

He would have to get her alone if he wanted any real information, she seemed like a very social person so that might prove difficult. But getting to know her a little couldn’t be a bad thing, right?

Toye quickly learnt that Marleen was chatty.

When he first approached her, she was standing with her friends in their slightly separate camp. He had overheard the two women speaking, something about ‘staying away from someone.’

That captured his attention, were they being hassled already? Surely not, they had barely been here an hour.

When he opened his mouth to speak, he noticed the shorter girl was staring up at him with her round eyes that glistened in the light. He found himself involuntarily frozen as he observed her small rant of an introduction.

Watching her fumble her words made something swirl in Toye’s gut but as quickly as that feeling came, he brushed it away. He had to keep focused on his task at hand; get to know the girl while also doing his best not to befriend her or more accurately- let her befriend him. He had to maintain a distance with her despite the instant draw he felt to the short blonde woman.

It was only when he witnessed her walking away, that he realised he had completely forgotten to introduce himself.

Smooth.

Ah Mars was real smooth with that first introduction, also Sam immediately clocked that Mars would have a thing for Toye lmaoooo. See you all on Saturday, love ya!

Esra✨

#band of brothers #hbo war #easy company #hbowar #joe liebgott #lewis nixon #band of brothers #david webster #joseph liebgott #eugene roe #Zombie AU #Sol and Esra AU #BOB AU #Zombies #zombie apocolypse au #apocolyptic #Sam Jackson #Mars Finch

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the-kr8tor · 1 year ago

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*Me crawling out of docs covered in blood, shivering and drenched in sea water, holding up chapter 7*

It is done.

Upload will be on sunday (for me) or late saturday for all the lovelies on the other side of the world ❤️ I hope u like it ☺️

#katy mumbles #bdas #katy updates

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petit-papillion · 9 months ago

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Hiiii, I'm so sorry to bother you with this huge ask but I don't know who else to ask 🥲

I'm from Thailand and I cannot access the Prince Charles documentary at all, even after using multiple different vpns

Could you please let me know if someone has uploaded the whole doc here or if I can access it some other way?

Thank you so much!

Hello dear Anon from Thailand! No bother at all, you're always welcome in my inbox. Unfortunately, I don't think I can be of much help, as I am in the same boat. I can't access it either, nor have I seen it uploaded anywhere. Hopefully, Canal+ will eventually post it on their YouTube channel, as they did when they hosted Charles on En Aparte last year.

youtube

For anyone who does have access, it will be broadcast again this Thursday night on Canal+, and again on Saturday, June 22. If anyone does know of alternative access to watch the full documentary, please let us know. 🙏

In the meantime, here is a beautiful little crumb of Pascale and Lorenzo, on their way to see Charles, immediately after he won the Monaco GP. (Have your tissues ready)

🎥 lecmoments

#i know sooner or alter well be able to see it somewhere #it sucks to have to wait though #esp when i see this snippet of pascale and lorenzo #their nerves excitement anticipation and love for charles all rolled into one #😭🥹🥺#charles leclerc #lorenzo tolotta-leclerc #pascale leclerc #prince charles documentary #canal+ documentary #monaco gp 2024 #anon ask #en aparte

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wabbit--bunny95 · 1 year ago

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I'm so delulu that when I saw that Doc wasn't uploading till Saturday instead of Friday and then I saw one of Sausages teases for the new series he's starting tomorrow with Fwhip, Jimmy, Eloise, Owen and idk who else that I am now 30% legitimately convinced they're surprise joining Hermitcraft

#look look look #i know they won't #its probably something Hardcore and vaguely new life or something #maybe empiresy #BUT #a girl can live in her delulu #hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 10

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gettingfrilly · 1 year ago

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Make up your Ed

I truly cannot look at this anymore but I don't want it languishing away in my google docs forever with no feedback. It can stand as a complete fic as is, but I do have plans to make it longer. Once I actually finish it, and edit it properly, I'll upload it to ao3 with an explicit rating. But for now, it's rated T, and only here on tumblr. All characters are 18 years old.

The plastic folding step stool creaks under his feet, a sure sign that it's either getting too old, or Eddy's getting too fat. He quickly decides the problem is the former theory as he grabs the see-through makeup case off the top shelf lining the walls of his closet, hidden behind a box of comic books. Careful with his cargo, he takes a slow step off of his stool, then saunters back into his bedroom and places the case on his nightstand. The plastic is smooth and cool under his hands as he thumbs open the latches, lifting the lid and running his fingers along the chunky, rougher, opaque plastic bordering the edges of the box. He painted the edges black himself when he first bought it using the money he got for his 15th birthday. The lines are painstakingly clean despite how much his hands had been trembling at the time.

There's more plastic inside, clear dividers creating organized compartments for his assortment of cosmetics, the collection a result of years of careful selection. Brushes and blenders, pallets and powders, dispensers, sprays, tubes, and polish create an array of colors, glass and plastic containers glinting amber under the glow of his lava lamp. Sucking on his tongue in consideration, he starts to pluck items from each section, putting together a color palette that suits the task at hand.

"Thank you for doing this."

Eddy turns to face the source of the soft voice, Double D sitting in the center of his circular bed, knees drawn to his chest as he pulls and snaps the elastic in the hem of his knee high sock, repeating the motion in intervals as he gazes down at Eddy's bed sheets. It's the first time he's spoken since entering his bedroom.

It was with that same soft voice he had asked Eddy on their walk home from school if he'd be willing to do Double D's makeup. The crunch of freshly fallen snow underneath their boots made Eddy unsure if he had heard him right over the noise.

"You want me to do your makeup?"

"Yes, if it's no bother. If it is a bother, then that's fine, it was just a thought."

"You, as in you, Double D, want me, as in me, Eddy, to do your makeup, as in putting sticky and powdery and wet stuff on your face using the same brushes and sponges I use on my own face?" Eddy repeated himself, pointing at Double D and himself in turn before gesturing at their faces.

Double D had huffed through his nose at him, already red-from-the-cold cheeks growing redder as he glared at the path ahead. "Like I said, if it's a bother-"

He cut himself off with a squeak as Eddy grabbed his hand and started jogging home, a wide grin splitting his chapped lips. Ed wished them luck before he was out of earshot, waving them off with his usual goofy smile.

He had ranted at Double D the whole way home, recounting tales of his exploits during the handful of times he drove up to Buffalo for a Saturday night of clubbing and drag, enjoying what the queer scene there had to offer. Stories were interspersed with boasts about his styling skills and the amount of eyes he caught and attention he drew, promising Double D that he’d turn him into a standout masterpiece that any queen would envy. The more he went on, however, the quieter Double D had become, until he had stopped talking completely and kept his eyes glued to the ground.The shift in mood didn’t go unnoticed by Eddy, who slowed his pace and started cracking jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood. Double D paid only minimal attention to him, and by the time they got to Eddy’s room, Eddy found himself sour and uneasy, wondering what the hell could be going on with him.

"No prob, Bob." He grabs Double D’s wrist and pulls his arm closer, flipping it over to reveal the paler side underneath. "Just make sure to use your math skills after to figure out how much money you owe me based on how much makeup I use."

That earns him a dry, withering look.

"Jeez, relax. Can't you take a joke?" He asks as he starts applying swatches of different foundations, watching the tendons in Double D's arm flex under the wet makeup sponge.

"As if I had no reason to believe you might have been serious."

"Oh lighten up." Eddy retorts, starting to bristle under Double D's prickly responses. "You're the one who asked me to do this, ya know—and here you are acting like you're about to go under the knife."

Double D has enough humility to look away sheepishly, averting his gaze and worrying at his lip. "...I know. I'm sorry, Eddy. I should be more grateful."

"Or just a little less bitchy." Double D looks back at Eddy to glare at him, but his expression softens when he sees the small smile on Eddy's face, only teasing him.

"I'll do my utmost."

"Good." Eddy says in response both to Double D and to finding a foundation that matches, putting the rest away as he grabs the makeup he selected and dumps it on the bed. The makeup rolls over the comforter as Eddy's weight creates dips in the mattress, crawling the oversized expanse of it until he's on his knees in front of Double D. He takes Double D's face in his hand, still cool from the face wash and moisturizer he used in Eddy's bathroom. Using one of his cleaner sponges, he starts applying primer, careful not to get any in Double D's exposed hairline. His sparse, dark hairs are held back by Eddy's makeup stained cloth headband, giving him a rare look at the full shape of Double D's face.

"Why do you wanna wear makeup?" Eddy finally voices the question that's been in the back of his mind since his excitement diminished.

"Well, why not?" Double D answers his question with his own question. "You wear makeup sometimes."

"I meant why all of the sudden."

"All of a sudden, Eddy." Double D corrects him while trying not to move his face too much.

"All of these nuts in your mouth." He mutters, hands unfortunately too busy for him to emphasize the point by grabbing his own crotch.

"Eddy, please."

"Just answer the question, Sockhead."

Double D pouts and is quickly scolded by Eddy into keeping his face still. "Just a whim, I suppose. Am I not allowed a whim now and again?"

"I just wouldn't exactly describe you as whimsical."

"Well. We all have our moments."

A silence follows the exchange, Eddy far from satisfied by Double D's answer. He's too distracted by contouring Double D's weird head to interrogate him further, though, too used to working with his own square shaped face. Thankfully for him, it's not too hard to get answers from someone who typically doesn't know how to shut the fuck up.

"Did you ever think you might be a woman?"

"Huh?" Eddy pauses at the sudden question, backing away from Double D's face, applicator hovering in midair.

Double D puckers his lips as if he tastes something sour, pulling the elastic of his sock further away from his shin before letting it snap back. "I mean... with your long standing fascination with clothing, hair products, and fragrances, and then dresses and makeup more recently. Didn't it ever cross your mind?"

He frowns at Double D's simplification of gender, though he understands what he means. Thinking to himself quietly, he goes back to shaping Double D's chin, taking a moment before answering. "Sort of, I guess. Briefly."

"Really?" He asks, voice tinged with hope.

"Yeah, back when I was still having my big ol' gay crisis. Pretty sure sexuality and gender crises go hand in hand. I mean, I liked boys, and I wasn't supposed to because I'm a boy. Makes you question shit."

"Just how much were you questioning?"

Eddy waves his free hand noncommittally before capping the applicator and reaching for the foundation he selected. "Eh. Enough to make me sweat over it for a bit. I kept asking myself which would be worse: being a gay man, or being a woman?"

"Oh." Double D says with a wince.

"Yeah, oh." Eddy agrees with his distasteful cringing.

"Do you still question yourself?" Double D hedges.

"Nah. Eventually figured I didn't want to be a chick, I just wanted to have a boyfriend. I hadn't fully realized there was a difference."

"But you still wear makeup and dresses."

Eddy shrugs. "Yeah, 'cause it's fun."

Double D raises the brow Eddy just shaped. "How so?"

"It's like... a joke, kinda." He answers after chewing on the question for a moment. "It's what people expect from a gay man. So fine, I'll do it. And I'll be smokin' hot and have fun with it. Hopefully make people really uncomfortable along the way, 'cause fuck 'em.” He punctuates his statement by popping open a tube of concealer. “That, and I spent my whole childhood being terrified over being masculine enough. It's a relief, knowing drag doesn't make me any less butch when I'm not in drag."

Double D hums. "Yes, I suppose even when you're in drag or just makeup, I wouldn't exactly describe you as feminine."

"Me neither. Is that what this is about, then?" Eddy asks, gesturing at the makeup on his bed and on Double D's face, starting to get the picture of what’s been making Double D so fidgety.

"Oh, me? No, I- well... perhaps. I don't know, it's all so confusing, Eddy.” He has to pause in his makeup application while Double D’s face goes through a wide range of expressions, Eddy huffing in frustration before forcing himself to be patient and listen.

“It's something I've been teased about my whole life, to the point where I'm starting to feel there's something about me other people know that I don't.” Double D admits, face settling on a small frown and wrinkled brow. “While I can admit I've always been a tad feminine-"

"Who says you're feminine?"

"Oh, come on, Eddy."

"I'm serious, Dee. What, 'cause you don't like sports? You spend more time reading than tossing a ball around? You're into bugs and nature and organic food?" He starts waving the concealer wand around like a conductor’s baton, jabbing it in Double D’s direction with each question asked.

Double D gives him a flat look, unmoved by his impassioned gesturing. "Eddy, you have accused me of being a sissy time and time again for those very same supposedly nonsensical reasons."

Eddy crosses his arms, careful to not get any concealer on his shirt. "Yeah, when I was a kid. I'm a different man now." He bristles, offended by Double D’s implication that he’s still some bigoted preteen.

"We're still kids, Eddy." Double D’s voice is almost too quiet to hear, as if he’s admitting something shameful.

"Speak for yourself."

Silence falls again, and Eddy takes the opportunity to get back to work. His mind wanders as he goes through the practiced motions of putting on makeup, going off of muscle memory as he tries to figure out just why Double D is being so cagey about this. He’ll never forget how casually Double D came out to him and Ed, only in eighth grade when he told them one sleepover that he was ‘fairly certain I’m bisexual.’ Buttery popcorn had fallen right out of Eddy’s hand and onto Ed’s sticky basement floor, feeling like someone just put his head through a brick wall, ears ringing from the non existent head wound and leaving him too unfocused to pay attention to the questions Ed asked in response. He continued to perform his best impression of a gobsmacked cartoon character until Double D had called out his name in the same tone he uses when he thinks Eddy is about to do or say something stupid. It took him a couple more seconds to recover before he was able to mutter out a ‘whatever floats your boat, Sockhead,’ quickly changing the topic of conversation afterward.

He didn’t sleep a wink that night—just lay awake staring at the glow in the dark stars him and Double D had put all over Ed’s ceiling two birthdays ago, trying to figure out how the hell someone could admit to something like that so easily. Wasn’t Double D terrified? Wasn’t he disgusted? Didn’t he hate himself? And why in the name of Christ and fuck and shit was part of him goddamn happy about this?

It had taken two more years for Eddy to be able to even say he’s gay out loud to himself, never mind to anyone else. When he did eventually come out to the other Eds, it was after a night of nervous binge eating, hours of trying to ramp himself up to it only to stuff his open maw with more junk food instead of letting the words come out. Eventually, Double D had suggested bedtime, and stabbed through the heart with panic as if he’d never get a chance again, Eddy stood, ready to spill his guts out—only to run for the bathroom to puke them out instead. Ed and Double D followed him close behind, and he whispered his confession into the porcelain, sniffling wetly and getting a lungful of vomit smell as he watched his tears drop into the mess below. He was a pathetic disaster, Ed’s attempts to soothe him with a bedtime story going ignored as he hyperfocused on the feeling of Double D’s cool hand running up and down his back. They went on their first date two weeks later.

So now he’s totally thrown off, the ill-fitting shoe on the other foot as he discusses gender identity casually while Double D works at picking a hole into his sock and looks anywhere but at Eddy. Double D never seemed to be insecure about his masculinity before, at least, as far as Eddy knows. If anything, Eddy had been insecure enough for the both of them, frequently pushing Double D to lift or run or take up boxing, anything to up his man cred. Double D had always been resistant, stating each time that his abilities simply lie elsewhere. Had he been self conscious about it all this time and Eddy just never picked up on it?

"Perhaps I was speaking only for myself. I fear you're far more mature than I am, Eddy."

Eddy leans back, startled not just by Double D talking after such a long silence, but by the content of his sentence, too. "Hold up.” He makes a show of digging his pinky into his own ear before tilting his head and slapping the side of it as if he’s trying to get something to fall out the other end. “I know I didn't hear that right. I've never heard you say I'm more ANYTHING than you. Other than loud or rude or messy or other negative shit."

"Well it's the truth!” It’s the loudest Double D has spoken tonight, his hands thrown up into the air dramatically. “I've been left behind in the proverbial dust, Eddy. You and Ed are so sure of who you are. Even you, who used to be the most insecure, awkward, and desperate for inclusion out of the three of us."

"Gee, thanks." Eddy replies, voice dry as the desert and hollow as Ed’s head.

"And now you're able to just... be!” Double D continues, ignoring his own accidental insult towards Eddy. “Without worrying about what others expect or want from you. The only reason you remain in the closet locally is to avoid consequences at home. But with yourself, or in the city, you're so genuine, so unashamed. Yet the older I get, the more unsure of myself I become, as if puberty somehow made me immature. I have no idea who I truly am. I'm rather jealous of you, Eddy." Double D’s excitement peters out as he goes on, slumping forward in defeat as his hands return to his knees.

“Oh. I get it.” And he does, finally. This isn’t just a gender crisis, it’s a growing up crisis, which is much more on track for Double D’s neuroses. Whether he becomes a woman or not, he’s still not gonna be a ‘boy’ anymore.

“Get what?”

“Shut up and listen, because I got something to say and also because I need you to not move your face for a while. I’ll try to put this in words your weirdo crazy bananas brain can understand.”

Double D follows Eddy’s instructions, tightly pressing his lips together and freezing his face into an impressive stock-stillness.

Eddy nods his approval, capping the concealer before grabbing a brush to start blending. “Okay, so. It’s like… we’re just molecules. I said don’t move your face!” Eddy scolds Double D for his poorly repressed grin, apparently finding Eddy’s attempt at using scientific jargon just so goddamn funny. “I know what a fucking molecule is, ya know. I’m not that shit at school.”

“Anyway,” he continues once Double D wipes the smirk off his face, “we’re molecules and atoms and junk. I don’t know who I truly am because there is no ‘who I truly am.’ You could break me apart into the smallest possible pieces looking for it and all you’d find is a bunch of loosely connected random shit.” He grabs a smaller brush to blend in the nooks and crannies of his face. “I never tried to look for who I am. I just spent my life trying to be someone everyone liked, which is impossible, and wanting to be something impossible just made me miserable and mean and shitty. I couldn’t be a complete person.”

Double D opens his mouth like he wants to protest, brows drawn in concern, but Eddy raises his hand to silence him. “It’s in the past. Then there was the whole running away fiasco, and then puberty hit me like a sack of bricks and life was already hard e-fucking-nough, so I tried to dial it back, just be someone that most people will like. That shrunk down to some people, then to just the other kids in the neighborhood, and one day I asked myself, well shit, why not be someone I like? I’ve never liked myself before. Should probably give it a shot.”

“Oh, Eddy.” Double D won’t be silenced this time, grabbing Eddy’s free hand and squeezing it tightly as he gives him his usual concerned mother face. Eddy sighs through his nose and squeezes his hand back, running his thumb in the junction between Double D’s thumb and pointer finger.

“Like I said, it’s in the past.” He slips his hand out of Double D’s and carefully applies lip liner while holding his chin. “All I’m saying is you gotta stop spending so much time up here,” he taps Double D’s forehead, “and try spending a little more time in here,” he finishes, placing his hand over Double D’s chest.

Double D looks down before glancing back up with a smirk. “In my udder?”

Eddy rolls his eyes at the callback, taking his hand back to get to finishing up. “Yeah, your udder. That’s where you’ll find the person you want to be.”

“So you’re a gay man because you wanted to be a gay man?” He asks flatly.

“Well. No. Okay, so, some of it is probably generic.”

“Genetic.”

“Whatever. The bulk of it, though? How we act, what labels we choose, what clothes we wear, whether we wear makeup or not—that’s all from exposure and desire. We’re all just cobbled together, Dee.”

“Is it really that simple?” Double D asks, sounding equal parts hopeful and doubtful.

Eddy shakes his head. “Nope. Having a true self you could look for under a microscope is what would be simple. Real life’s a lot more complicated than that.”

Double D widens his eyes, breath catching softly in his throat as he stares Eddy down. Eddy narrows his eyes back at him, unsure if he should feel complimented or offended by Double D’s reaction.

“Eddy… since when did you become so wise?”

Offended, then. “Since when did you only give me compliments that were backhanded? Just kidding, you’ve always done that. Now for real, hold still and shut up. Lemme do your eyes.”

Double D complies, trying his best to keep his wincing to a minimum as Eddy pokes and prods his lids. As long as he doesn’t start mumbling about pink eye, Eddy can put up with the occasional fidgeting. Once the eyes are done, all that’s left is the lipstick, and Eddy purposefully takes his time with it, Double’s D’s chin clutched between his fingers as his eyes slip shut, a soft blush glowing through the layers of makeup. Fuck, he’d kiss him it wouldn’t mess up his work.

“Okay, done.” He gropes around his night stand until he finds his gold painted hand mirror, shoving it in Double D’s direction. “Go ahead and lay on the praise for my incredible skills.”

Double D takes a deep breath before lifting the mirror and opening his eyes, face freezing at what he finds. Silent seconds slowly tick by as Eddy waits for any sort of appraisal, positive or otherwise, arms crossed and finger tapping against his arm.

“... I look like my mother.”

Eddy’s wince is automatic and unstoppable. “Mmrh. But, like, a hot version of your mom, right?”

“Eddy, my mother is-” Thankfully for Double D, for Eddy, for the reader, for the author, and for the universe at large, he cuts himself off before finishing that sentence. “And it’s so conservative.”

Eddy shrugs. “Yeah, well. You don’t usually go for gaudy.” He had picked a color palette he’d never pick for himself, all natural colors that would mix well with Double D’s skin tone, highlighting his innate beauty and giving his face a more feminine shape without making him look like he was about to start lip syncing to Shania Twain. The only splash of color he gave him was the lipstick, a deep cherry red and one of Eddy’s favorites.

“I don’t. You put so much thought into this, Eddy.” He murmurs, the content of his sentence not at all matching his dismayed tone.

“You hate it.”

“No, it’s not that. You did an exceedingly good job, your high skill is abundantly obvious, and I am still very grateful.” He quickly explains, still staring at himself in the mirror. “It’s just… I didn’t expect… I thought-” he takes a deep breath and sighs, putting the mirror down. “I feel the same.”

Eddy takes a deep breath through his nose and purses his lips, readying himself to be an ‘empathetic listener’ as Double D often describes it. At least he doesn’t have to put on the fake empathy face for him like he does for other people. “Okay. How did you think you would feel?”

“Different.” Double D gives the obvious answer, and Eddy has to hold himself back from saying ‘no shit.’ He waits instead, keeping his face neutral and his eyes on Double D as he fiddles with his blanket, twisting his fingers into the fabric.

“I don’t know. Anything, really. Elated, horrified, enlightened, disgusted, at peace, unease. Anything would have been better than still just feeling confused.” Double D starts to clutch his own arms as he talks, fingers digging into the fabric of his winter cardigan. “I still don’t know who I want to be.”

“What, you thought it would happen overnight? I’d share my ‘wisdom’ with you and your big brain would just work out the rest?” He puts scare quotes around wisdom, withholding the impatient huff he wants to give. “Shit takes time, Sockhead. It took me years of self loathing and fear to get to where I am.

Double D looks less than thrilled by the prospect. “Uh. But who knows, might not be that bad for you. You’ll figure something out eventually. You always do, Dee.”

“I do, don’t I.” He gives Eddy a small smile, only slightly forced as he takes his hands in his own. “Thank you, Eddy. You’ve been very sweet to me tonight.”

“‘M always sweet.”

“Of course you are.” He leans in to give Eddy a peck on the corner of his mouth, a chaste and innocent gesture, but when they part Double D stares at Eddy’s mouth for a worrying amount of time.

“Huh? Oh.” Eddy finally figures out what he’s staring at. Double D always opposes messiness. “Yeah, I didn’t use any lipstick sealer. Figured you’d be taking it off right after, so-”

He’s cut off by a far less chaste kiss, Double D sealing his lips against Eddy’s before he starts shifting against them, hands flying up to grab Eddy’s shoulders in a bruising grip. Eddy can do nothing but flounder, his surprised exclamation muffled against Double D’s mouth. Seeing as there’s absolutely no reason not to, he surrenders himself, arms snaking around Double D’s smaller frame, pulling him closer until their bodies are flush against each other, putting up zero resistance when Double D pushes down to the mattress. Glass and plastic makeup containers tumble and clink against each other as their shifting weight creates new divots in the mattress, followed by the soft hush of something smooth sliding over Eddy’s silk sheets, landing on the carpet below with a dull thud.

‘Hope my mirror didn’t just break. Glass is a bitch to get out of shag carpeting.’ That’s all the brain resources he has available for the integrity of his cheap mirror right now, the rest of it occupied by the overwhelming presence and persistence of Double D, hands grabbing and squishing the usual suspects, i.e. Eddy’s stomach, thighs, and love handles. Shortly after Double D’s hands start to rove, his lips start to travel, too, across Eddy’s jaw, cheek, then neck, pulling back a little bit each time to gaze down dazedly at the gory red trail he’s left in his wake. Eddy lets him, making no moves to take control of the situation, just breathing heavily beneath Double D’s ministrations.

Eventually, Double D slows to a stop, sitting up with his knees on either side of Eddy’s stomach as he lightly traces the path of kiss marks decorating Eddy’s heated face. His eyes are unfocused, lids hooded, body loose and face relaxed, not at all the ball of nerves he’d been since their walk home.

“I still don’t know who I want to be.” He admits softly, giving Eddy one last kiss on the cheek before he lays on top of him and nuzzles into the side of his spacious neck. “But I know who I want to be with.”

Eddy wraps his arms around him again, tilting his head to the side to brush a kiss of his own against Double D’s ear, an always hypersensitive part of his body. It brings him close enough to be drawn in by the allure of Double D’s hypoallergenic laundry detergent and natural deodorant, shoving his nose in his shirt and huffing fumes that can really only be described as smelling ‘clean.’ He embraces and is embraced in return, wanting and wanted, loving and loved.

“And I already have you, Eddy.”

#ed edd n eddy #eene #eddeddy #gettingfrillywrites

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