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soapybutt17 · 8 months ago

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The Next of Kin

Summary: Simon needed to update his contact information, as dodgy as he was for giving everyone even a glimpse of his private life, he did so. Who would have ever thought that it would become handy after an injury left him high on painkillers and needy for his girls back home. Character: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Wife!Reader. OC Daughter (Cassandra "Cassie" Riley). John Price. Word Count: 1,615 Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Injuries. Drug Consumption. Slight Angst. Mostly fluff.

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It was the annual checkup in the base, something that Simon had dreaded the most knowing what it entails. Not only was his current and past injuries being monitored but he was all too certain about the wacky doctor would also make an appearance to check on his mental state. It wasn’t a fun time as any of his other team mates point it out to be.

“Should we update your emergency contact, Lieutenant Riley?” The nurse had inquired dealing with his medical records.

A part of him wanted to say no, but remembering what was waiting for him home, he could not allow himself to break his wife’s heart as well as his own daughter if the time ever comes that he dies in the middle of battle. He would want to ensure if ever that was to happen, you would know and hope that you would move on.

“Yes,” He agreed accepting the clipboard and pen handed to him.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he wrote your name and your number under his emergency contacts.

His handwriting was decent and readable at best, chicken scratch at worst as Johnny had eloquently pointed out during reports. But there was this special care with the way he wrote your first name and his last name that you were more than happy to take as soon as you married all those years ago. Your number was ingrained to his brain as he wrote it, having forced himself to memorize in the event he didn’t have his personal phone with him and simply a burner phone for missions.

What truly took him a second to write was the blank space dedicated to his relationship with you. No one knew he was in a relationship, nor did anyone know about his marriage. It took him a full two minutes before he found himself slowly opening the flood gates of his personal life that he had tried his best to hide from the world.

“Never knew you were married, Lieutenant.”

“Never planned on letting anyone know about it.” He spoke honestly, the cold demeanor and tone enough to stop the conversation from going further about his personal life.

Little did Simon know that the upcoming mission would lead to him having to make use of the emergency contact.

When you had begun your relationship with one Simon Riley, you had always accepted that he would always be gone for uncertain amounts of months in a year, you had accepted that part of him. How mission would always mean the world was a little safer from the dangers of man. You accepted all the big and small flaws that came with Simon and even in your eventual marriage and the birth of your daughter, you had come to accept the danger that would come in missions that would place him badly bruised or beaten beyond repair. You would always be there to tend to each and every single wounds and be the shoulder for him to cry on when he was good and ready.

But nothing could have ever prepared you for another unknown call coming from your phone. You’ve always expected it to be your husband, checking up on you before the mission begins like he always does. But the voice of an unknown man was the last thing you would have expected.

He called himself John Price and you know the man from your husband’s few conversations when he talks about the people he works with. You had feared for the worst as soon as he had explained that your husband has just gotten out of surgery after a mission. A few broken bones and a superficial gunshot wound. But it was enough to worry you as Simon himself has been asking for you as soon as he was out of surgery and in lucid consciousness.

On most days you were calm and collected, but it was the panic of seeing the worse of your husband that had you carrying your two year old and a baby bag towards your car with a mission. The Captain had asked if you could possibly have someone come get him but you know no one else better to check up on him but yourself and your daughter that was all the more excited about being in the car.

The travel was rather long and rather tedious knowing you and your husband had agreed to live away from the city and away from any dangers that may come to you and the baby while he was gone. You had appreciated the distance, the peaceful tranquility that came with being away from the bustle and noise of the city but not this time. It had meant a longer journey and a more hectic one since the base was all the way across the other side.

Once you had arrived to the base, all eyes were on you. Many eyes had lingered on you when they heard your last name. You know for a fact that your husband’s name and reputation beholds him, but you never knew nor did you ever try to question to what extent. It unnerved you more was how avoidant everyone had been of you aside from one of the soldiers tasked with bringing you and your daughter to your husband.

Outside the infirmary room was a rugged man. The man exudes an air or control and intensity and rugged strength, but not as much as your husband did. His posture was upright, suggesting discipline and years of military training. Dressed in an all too familiar tactical gear, he gives off a no-nonsense vibe that immediately commands attention.

“Ma’am, my name is John Price.” The man introduced the moment he caught sight of you.

You spoke your name and your daughter that was surprisingly all too mum in the whole situation, you were surprised that she wasn’t crying at being in an unfamiliar environment like she usually was.

“It is best to assume that you two are Simon’s wife and daughter, I presume?” He inquired.

You took a moment to think if it was alright to agree with his statement. Knowing your husband and the array of precaution he had come to give you, you were uncertain if you could trust the man with such a fact.

“Yes.” You spoke, dealing with the consequence later as there was something more important that needed your attention. “How’s he doing?” You inquired wanting to change the subject now.

“Stable. A little loopy from the drugs, but he’ll make a fast recovery.”

You nodded, hesitation of asking if you would be allowed to see him now in his state.

“He was looking for you.” He opened the door for you and you were welcomed with your husband in bed with his mask still on.

“Dada!” Your daughter squealed upon the sight of your husband groggy still.

You watched as his head turned to look at you and your daughter.

“Love…” He grunted wincing at the pain that you were certain that was coming in full force now.

“I’m here, Baby.” You whispered approaching him, cupping his cheeks gently. “Me and Cassie are here.” You assured trying your best to hide the tears that were fighting to fall at the sight of him.

When Simon Riley had opened his eyes, the first thing that he had come to notice was the pain that surrounded his entire body. The next thing that he noticed was the warmth that wrapped around his calloused hand.

Turning his head he saw the most beautiful sight that he had the fortune of seeing in his life. His wife and daughter. The more pressing matter was the fact that you were asleep in an all too familiar uncomfortable plastic chair with one hand on him, and your other arm held onto your baby sleeping on your chest.

“Baby…” He grunted harsher than he intended.

Slowly blinking away, your eyes immediately turned down towards your daughter before your eyes met his own.

“How are you holding up?” You inquired immediately, trying your best not to wake your sleeping daughter still cradled snuggly on your chest.

“Like a bitch.” He muttered appreciating being able to swear with his daughter still asleep. “But I’ll live.”

“I’m glad.” You sighed, rubbing his hand tenderly. “I was so worried about you when your boss called me. I thought something worse has happened.” You whispered.

“I didn’t really want to worry you—or have you see me like this.” He muttered.

“I know.” You nodded gently letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks that still was covered with his mask. “But I’m still as glad to be here right now knowing you’re alright. Me and Cassie get to see you’re alright.”

At the mention of your daughter, Simon noticed his daughter begin to get fussy from your chest. Gently pushing himself up until he sat on his bed much to your protest, he took your now crying daughter into his arms, gently laying her onto his chest and how quick she was sated in his warmth.

“Daddy’s here, Angel. I’m here.” He began to whisper, pulling off his balaclava to kiss his daughter onto top of her head. “I’m not going soon for a while. I promise.”

He has yet to tell you about the doctor’s insistence that he takes a few months off. It would be something he would tell when you get home. Once he finishes up with the paper works, he’ll let you know of the good news. For now, all that’s important was he had you and his daughter here with him, even in his most vulnerable state.

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 x reader #ghost riley #simon riley fluff

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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Autoenshittification

Forget F1: the only car race that matters now is the race to turn your car into a digital extraction machine, a high-speed inkjet printer on wheels, stealing your private data as it picks your pocket. Your car’s digital infrastructure is a costly, dangerous nightmare — but for automakers in pursuit of postcapitalist utopia, it’s a dream they can’t give up on.

Your car is stuffed full of microchips, a fact the world came to appreciate after the pandemic struck and auto production ground to a halt due to chip shortages. Of course, that wasn’t the whole story: when the pandemic started, the automakers panicked and canceled their chip orders, only to immediately regret that decision and place new orders.

But it was too late: semiconductor production had taken a serious body-blow, and when Big Car placed its new chip orders, it went to the back of a long, slow-moving line. It was a catastrophic bungle: microchips are so integral to car production that a car is basically a computer network on wheels that you stick your fragile human body into and pray.

The car manufacturers got so desperate for chips that they started buying up washing machines for the microchips in them, extracting the chips and discarding the washing machines like some absurdo-dystopian cyberpunk walnut-shelling machine:

https://www.autoevolution.com/news/desperate-times-companies-buy-washing-machines-just-to-rip-out-the-chips-187033.html

These digital systems are a huge problem for the car companies. They are the underlying cause of a precipitous decline in car quality. From touch-based digital door-locks to networked sensors and cameras, every digital system in your car is a source of endless repair nightmares, costly recalls and cybersecurity vulnerabilities:

https://www.reuters.com/business/autos-transportation/quality-new-vehicles-us-declining-more-tech-use-study-shows-2023-06-22/

What’s more, drivers hate all the digital bullshit, from the janky touchscreens to the shitty, wildly insecure apps. Digital systems are drivers’ most significant point of dissatisfaction with the automakers’ products:

https://www.theverge.com/23801545/car-infotainment-customer-satisifaction-survey-jd-power

Even the automakers sorta-kinda admit that this is a problem. Back in 2020 when Massachusetts was having a Right-to-Repair ballot initiative, Big Car ran these unfuckingbelievable scare ads that basically said, “Your car spies on you so comprehensively that giving anyone else access to its systems will let murderers stalk you to your home and kill you:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

But even amid all the complaining about cars getting stuck in the Internet of Shit, there’s still not much discussion of why the car-makers are making their products less attractive, less reliable, less safe, and less resilient by stuffing them full of microchips. Are car execs just the latest generation of rubes who’ve been suckered by Silicon Valley bullshit and convinced that apps are a magic path to profitability?

Nope. Car execs are sophisticated businesspeople, and they’re surfing capitalism’s latest — and last — hot trend: dismantling capitalism itself.

Now, leftists have been predicting the death of capitalism since The Communist Manifesto, but even Marx and Engels warned us not to get too frisky: capitalism, they wrote, is endlessly creative, constantly reinventing itself, re-emerging from each crisis in a new form that is perfectly adapted to the post-crisis reality:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

But capitalism has finally run out of gas. In his forthcoming book, Techno Feudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis proposes that capitalism has died — but it wasn’t replaced by socialism. Rather, capitalism has given way to feudalism:

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279

Under capitalism, capital is the prime mover. The people who own and mobilize capital — the capitalists — organize the economy and take the lion’s share of its returns. But it wasn’t always this way: for hundreds of years, European civilization was dominated by rents, not markets.

A “rent” is income that you get from owning something that other people need to produce value. Think of renting out a house you own: not only do you get paid when someone pays you to live there, you also get the benefit of rising property values, which are the result of the work that all the other homeowners, business owners, and residents do to make the neighborhood more valuable.

The first capitalists hated rent. They wanted to replace the “passive income” that landowners got from taxing their serfs’ harvest with active income from enclosing those lands and grazing sheep in order to get wool to feed to the new textile mills. They wanted active income — and lots of it.

Capitalist philosophers railed against rent. The “free market” of Adam Smith wasn’t a market that was free from regulation — it was a market free from rents. The reason Smith railed against monopolists is because he (correctly) understood that once a monopoly emerged, it would become a chokepoint through which a rentier could cream off the profits he considered the capitalist’s due:

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

Today, we live in a rentier’s paradise. People don’t aspire to create value — they aspire to capture it. In Survival of the Richest, Doug Rushkoff calls this “going meta”: don’t provide a service, just figure out a way to interpose yourself between the provider and the customer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn

Don’t drive a cab, create Uber and extract value from every driver and rider. Better still: don’t found Uber, invest in Uber options and extract value from the people who invest in Uber. Even better, invest in derivatives of Uber options and extract value from people extracting value from people investing in Uber, who extract value from drivers and riders. Go meta.

This is your brain on the four-hour-work-week, passive income mind-virus. In Techno Feudalism, Varoufakis deftly describes how the new “Cloud Capital” has created a new generation of rentiers, and how they have become the richest, most powerful people in human history.

Shopping at Amazon is like visiting a bustling city center full of stores — but each of those stores’ owners has to pay the majority of every sale to a feudal landlord, Emperor Jeff Bezos, who also decides which goods they can sell and where they must appear on the shelves. Amazon is full of capitalists, but it is not a capitalist enterprise. It’s a feudal one:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

This is the reason that automakers are willing to enshittify their products so comprehensively: they were one of the first industries to decouple rents from profits. Recall that the reason that Big Car needed billions in bailouts in 2008 is that they’d reinvented themselves as loan-sharks who incidentally made cars, lending money to car-buyers and then “securitizing” the loans so they could be traded in the capital markets.

Even though this strategy brought the car companies to the brink of ruin, it paid off in the long run. The car makers got billions in public money, paid their execs massive bonuses, gave billions to shareholders in buybacks and dividends, smashed their unions, fucked their pensioned workers, and shipped jobs anywhere they could pollute and murder their workforce with impunity.

Car companies are on the forefront of postcapitalism, and they understand that digital is the key to rent-extraction. Remember when BMW announced that it was going to rent you the seatwarmer in your own fucking car?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/02/big-river/#beemers

Not to be outdone, Mercedes announced that they were going to rent you your car’s accelerator pedal, charging an extra $1200/year to unlock a fully functional acceleration curve:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/23/23474969/mercedes-car-subscription-faster-acceleration-feature-price

This is the urinary tract infection business model: without digitization, all your car’s value flowed in a healthy stream. But once the car-makers add semiconductors, each one of those features comes out in a painful, burning dribble, with every button on that fakakta touchscreen wired directly into your credit-card.

But it’s just for starters. Computers are malleable. The only computer we know how to make is the Turing Complete Von Neumann Machine, which can run every program we know how to write. Once they add networked computers to your car, the Car Lords can endlessly twiddle the knobs on the back end, finding new ways to extract value from you:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

That means that your car can track your every movement, and sell your location data to anyone and everyone, from marketers to bounty-hunters looking to collect fees for tracking down people who travel out of state for abortions to cops to foreign spies:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/n7enex/tool-shows-if-car-selling-data-privacy4cars-vehicle-privacy-report

Digitization supercharges financialization. It lets car-makers offer subprime auto-loans to desperate, poor people and then killswitch their cars if they miss a payment:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U2eDJnwz_s

Subprime lending for cars would be a terrible business without computers, but digitization makes it a great source of feudal rents. Car dealers can originate loans to people with teaser rates that quickly blow up into payments the dealer knows their customer can’t afford. Then they repo the car and sell it to another desperate person, and another, and another:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/27/boricua/#looking-for-the-joke-with-a-microscope

Digitization also opens up more exotic options. Some subprime cars have secondary control systems wired into their entertainment system: miss a payment and your car radio flips to full volume and bellows an unstoppable, unmutable stream of threats. Tesla does one better: your car will lock and immobilize itself, then blare its horn and back out of its parking spot when the repo man arrives:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

Digital feudalism hasn’t stopped innovating — it’s just stopped innovating good things. The digital device is an endless source of sadistic novelties, like the cellphones that disable your most-used app the first day you’re late on a payment, then work their way down the other apps you rely on for every day you’re late:

https://restofworld.org/2021/loans-that-hijack-your-phone-are-coming-to-india/

Usurers have always relied on this kind of imaginative intimidation. The loan-shark’s arm-breaker knows you’re never going to get off the hook; his goal is in intimidating you into paying his boss first, liquidating your house and your kid’s college fund and your wedding ring before you default and he throws you off a building.

Thanks to the malleability of computerized systems, digital arm-breakers have an endless array of options they can deploy to motivate you into paying them first, no matter what it costs you:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Car-makers are trailblazers in imaginative rent-extraction. Take VIN-locking: this is the practice of adding cheap microchips to engine components that communicate with the car’s overall network. After a new part is installed in your car, your car’s computer does a complex cryptographic handshake with the part that requires an unlock code provided by an authorized technician. If the code isn’t entered, the car refuses to use that part.

VIN-locking has exploded in popularity. It’s in your iPhone, preventing you from using refurb or third-party replacement parts:

https://doctorow.medium.com/apples-cement-overshoes-329856288d13

It’s in fuckin’ ventilators, which was a nightmare during lockdown as hospital techs nursed their precious ventilators along by swapping parts from dead systems into serviceable ones:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/3azv9b/why-repair-techs-are-hacking-ventilators-with-diy-dongles-from-poland

And of course, it’s in tractors, along with other forms of remote killswitch. Remember that feelgood story about John Deere bricking the looted Ukrainian tractors whose snitch-chips showed they’d been relocated to Russia?

https://doctorow.medium.com/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors-bc93f471b9c8

That wasn’t a happy story — it was a cautionary tale. After all, John Deere now controls the majority of the world’s agricultural future, and they’ve boobytrapped those ubiquitous tractors with killswitches that can be activated by anyone who hacks, takes over, or suborns Deere or its dealerships.

Control over repair isn’t limited to gouging customers on parts and service. When a company gets to decide whether your device can be fixed, it can fuck you over in all kinds of ways. Back in 2019, Tim Apple told his shareholders to expect lower revenues because people were opting to fix their phones rather than replace them:

https://www.apple.com/newsroom/2019/01/letter-from-tim-cook-to-apple-investors/

By usurping your right to decide who fixes your phone, Apple gets to decide whether you can fix it, or whether you must replace it. Problem solved — and not just for Apple, but for car makers, tractor makers, ventilator makers and more. Apple leads on this, even ahead of Big Car, pioneering a “recycling” program that sees trade-in phones shredded so they can’t possibly be diverted from an e-waste dump and mined for parts:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks

John Deere isn’t sleeping on this. They’ve come up with a valuable treasure they extract when they win the Right-to-Repair: Deere singles out farmers who complain about its policies and refuses to repair their tractors, stranding them with six-figure, two-ton paperweight:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it

The repair wars are just a skirmish in a vast, invisible fight that’s been waged for decades: the War On General-Purpose Computing, where tech companies use the law to make it illegal for you to reconfigure your devices so they serve you, rather than their shareholders:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

The force behind this army is vast and grows larger every day. General purpose computers are antithetical to technofeudalism — all the rents extracted by technofeudalists would go away if others (tinkereres, co-ops, even capitalists!) were allowed to reconfigure our devices so they serve us.

You’ve probably noticed the skirmishes with inkjet printer makers, who can only force you to buy their ink at 20,000% markups if they can stop you from deciding how your printer is configured:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty But we’re also fighting against insulin pump makers, who want to turn people with diabetes into walking inkjet printers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/10/loopers/#hp-ification

And companies that make powered wheelchairs:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/08/chair-ish/#r2r

These companies start with people who have the least agency and social power and wreck their lives, then work their way up the privilege gradient, coming for everyone else. It’s called the “shitty technology adoption curve”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Technofeudalism is the public-private-partnership from hell, emerging from a combination of state and private action. On the one hand, bailing out bankers and big business (rather than workers) after the 2008 crash and the covid lockdown decoupled income from profits. Companies spent billions more than they earned were still wildly profitable, thanks to those public funds.

But there’s also a policy dimension here. Some of those rentiers’ billions were mobilized to both deconstruct antitrust law (allowing bigger and bigger companies and cartels) and to expand “IP” law, turning “IP” into a toolsuite for controlling the conduct of a firm’s competitors, critics and customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

IP is key to understanding the rise of technofeudalism. The same malleability that allows companies to “twiddle” the knobs on their services and keep us on the hook as they reel us in would hypothetically allow us to countertwiddle, seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

The thing that stands between you and an alternative app store, an interoperable social media network that you can escape to while continuing to message the friends you left behind, or a car that anyone can fix or unlock features for is IP, not technology. Under capitalism, that technology would already exist, because capitalists have no loyalty to one another and view each other’s margins as their own opportunities.

But under technofeudalism, control comes from rents (owning things), not profits (selling things). The capitalist who wants to participate in your iPhone’s “ecosystem” has to make apps and submit them to Apple, along with 30% of their lifetime revenues — they don’t get to sell you jailbreaking kit that lets you choose their app store.

Rent-seeking technology has a holy grail: control over “ring zero” — the ability to compel you to configure your computer to a feudalist’s specifications, and to verify that you haven’t altered your computer after it came into your possession:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/30/ring-minus-one/#drm-political-economy

For more than two decades, various would-be feudal lords and their court sorcerers have been pitching ways of doing this, of varying degrees of outlandishness.

At core, here’s what they envision: inside your computer, they will nest another computer, one that is designed to run a very simple set of programs, none of which can be altered once it leaves the factory. This computer — either a whole separate chip called a “Trusted Platform Module” or a region of your main processor called a secure enclave — can tally observations about your computer: which operating system, modules and programs it’s running.

Then it can cryptographically “sign” these observations, proving that they were made by a secure chip and not by something you could have modified. Then you can send this signed “attestation” to someone else, who can use it to determine how your computer is configured and thus whether to trust it. This is called “remote attestation.”

There are some cool things you can do with remote attestation: for example, two strangers playing a networked video game together can use attestations to make sure neither is running any cheat modules. Or you could require your cloud computing provider to use attestations that they aren’t stealing your data from the server you’re renting. Or if you suspect that your computer has been infected with malware, you can connect to someone else and send them an attestation that they can use to figure out whether you should trust it.

Today, there’s a cool remote attestation technology called “PrivacyPass” that replaces CAPTCHAs by having you prove to your own device that you are a human. When a server wants to make sure you’re a person, it sends a random number to your device, which signs that number along with its promise that it is acting on behalf of a human being, and sends it back. CAPTCHAs are all kinds of bad — bad for accessibility and privacy — and this is really great.

But the billions that have been thrown at remote attestation over the decades is only incidentally about solving CAPTCHAs or verifying your cloud server. The holy grail here is being able to make sure that you’re not running an ad-blocker. It’s being able to remotely verify that you haven’t disabled the bossware your employer requires. It’s the power to block someone from opening an Office365 doc with LibreOffice. It’s your boss’s ability to ensure that you haven’t modified your messaging client to disable disappearing messages before he sends you an auto-destructing memo ordering you to break the law.

And there’s a new remote attestation technology making the rounds: Google’s Web Environment Integrity, which will leverage Google’s dominance over browsers to allow websites to block users who run ad-blockers:

https://github.com/RupertBenWiser/Web-Environment-Integrity

There’s plenty else WEI can do (it would make detecting ad-fraud much easier), but for every legitimate use, there are a hundred ways this could be abused. It’s a technology purpose-built to allow rent extraction by stripping us of our right to technological self-determination.

Releasing a technology like this into a world where companies are willing to make their products less reliable, less attractive, less safe and less resilient in pursuit of rents is incredibly reckless and shortsighted. You want unauthorized bread? This is how you get Unauthorized Bread:

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

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

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

[Image ID: The interior of a luxury car. There is a dagger protruding from the steering wheel. The entertainment console has been replaced by the text 'You wouldn't download a car,' in MPAA scare-ad font. Outside of the windscreen looms the Matrix waterfall effect. Visible in the rear- and side-view mirror is the driver: the figure from Munch's 'Scream.' The screen behind the steering-wheel has been replaced by the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.']

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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aventurineswife · 3 days ago

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Two Hands, One Home

Summary: After an abyss attack destroys your home, Kinich, who values independence and self-reliance, offers you a place to stay. Though he presents it as purely practical, his actions reveal a quiet, genuine care. Over time, you settle into a peaceful routine together, finding comfort in his reserved kindness and the small gestures of care he provides, learning that beneath his cold exterior, Kinich has his own way of showing affection.

Tags: @m1nella, Kinich x Reader, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Reserved Kinich, Found Family, Quiet Moments, Pragmatic Romance, Subtle Affection, Soft Kinich.

Warnings: Implied Loss Due To An Abyss Attack, Mild Angst.

The aftermath of the abyss attack was devastating. Your home, once a place of safety and comfort, had been reduced to rubble, its walls shattered and roof torn asunder. The shock of losing everything you had worked for in an instant left you feeling hollow, adrift in a world that had suddenly turned cold and uncertain.

But amid the chaos, there was an unexpected offer. Kinich, with his usual stoic expression, had come to you with a quiet proposal. “You can stay at my place while your house is being repaired.” he said, his tone as dry as ever, yet beneath it was something softer, something genuine.

You were hesitant at first—Kinich was a private person, and you knew his past hadn’t been easy. Still, the practicality of the offer, and the simple fact that you needed somewhere safe to stay, won out. You nodded, grateful but unsure of what to expect.

The day you moved into Kinich’s house, you couldn’t help but be surprised by how… normal it was. The inside was modest, a far cry from the grandeur of the mansions you’d seen in the past. But it had a warmth to it, an unspoken coziness. The walls were lined with handmade furniture, small knick-knacks that spoke of a life lived with care and attention, even if it wasn’t a life of luxury.

Kinich showed you around, his gestures efficient but not unkind. “This is the kitchen,” he said, pointing to a simple stove and a small table. “If you need anything, just ask. And, uh… don’t go near the shed out back. I keep some of my… tools there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tools?”

His lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though it was hard to say. “I’ve got a lot of things to fix. You’ll see.”

You followed him to the living room, where a modest fireplace crackled. The scent of wood and something faintly herbal hung in the air, and Kinich, ever the practical one, was already setting up a small cot by the wall for you.

“Don’t make a fuss about it,” he said as he smoothed out the blanket. “It’s not much, but it’ll do for now.”

You couldn’t help but feel touched. For someone who valued independence so much, Kinich was surprisingly attentive in his own way. You sat down on the cot, still a bit unsure of what to do next.

Kinich cleared his throat and turned toward the kitchen. “I’m making dinner. It’ll be ready in about an hour. You can relax until then.”

As he worked, you took a moment to look around the room. It wasn’t much, but it was his—his space, his home. The absence of his usual sharpness, the subtle kindness of his gestures, made you feel a little less alone. Even if he didn’t show it often, Kinich had a way of making you feel like you mattered.

Dinner was simple, a warm stew that smelled of fresh herbs and hearty vegetables. Kinich placed a bowl in front of you, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of something more than just duty.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, quietly breaking the silence. “Let me help with something.”

Kinich paused for a moment, his hand still on the pot as he glanced over at you. “It’s fine,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not doing it for you. Just… don’t let the food go to waste.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Kinich’s words were as blunt as always, but the care in his actions was something you couldn’t overlook. As you sat together at the table, eating in comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but think that, despite everything, you had found a place here—a place where, for the time being, you could heal

Over the next few days, life at Kinich’s house settled into a quiet routine. You’d help with the small tasks around the house—cleaning up, organizing things—and in return, Kinich would share bits and pieces of his life with you, small snippets of knowledge or skills that he’d learned over the years.

One evening, as the sun began to set, you found Kinich in the garden, tending to some plants in the fading light. You hadn’t realized how peaceful the house could feel when it was just the two of you, sharing this simple life together.

“Need help?” you asked, walking over to him.

Kinich glanced up, his face softening slightly. “If you want. I could always use another pair of hands around here.”

You knelt beside him, taking a small gardening trowel and gently digging into the soil. There was a strange comfort in working alongside him, the silence between you both not awkward but companionable, as if you were partners in something greater than just survival.

“Why do you do it?” you asked, looking up at him. “Tending to all this, I mean. I would’ve thought you’d want to leave it all behind.”

Kinich paused, the question catching him off guard. His eyes flickered briefly, almost hesitant, before he answered. “Because it’s mine. It’s the one thing in this world I can rely on. People… they come and go. But this? It’s real. It stays.”

You smiled at his answer, understanding him a little more than you had before. Kinich didn’t offer grand gestures or flowery words, but in the little things—like the way he cared for his home, or the way he offered you a place to stay when you needed it most—you saw his quiet strength.

And, despite his belief in self-sufficiency, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, for just a moment, you could be the one thing he’d allow himself to rely on, too.

That night, as you both sat by the fire, Kinich spoke again, his voice quieter than usual.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” he said, not looking directly at you but still offering the words with sincerity.

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. “Thanks, Kinich. I… I really appreciate it.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “It’s not charity. It’s just… practical.”

But the warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

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shouyuus · 1 month ago

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ceo!tobio who inherited his company from his grandfather at a young age and was a little too eager to prove himself so he alienated a lot of board members in the beginning by coming on too strong with his own opinions, but is now trying to learn how to work better with others. who's terrible with paperwork but is fantastic with strategies, who's constantly frowning but will light up when he's discussing specifics to a project that he's front-lining.

who always shows up in an impeccable suit, but never anything too ostentatious -- black jacket and matching tie, a pristine white shirt, the collars pressed to perfection. occasionally, he'll pop the top button of his shirt during the summer months, drape his jacket over one shoulder as he scrolls through his phone or listens to someone babble on about a current proposal. who tugs on his tie during meetings that go on too long and absently rolls up the sleeves to his shirt when he's redlining a document, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he flips his weighted mont blanc pens this way and that.

ceo!tobio who owns a collection of fancy watches, all gifted to him by investors hoping to buy a few more shares of the company from him, but he never wears them. instead, he keeps the dinged up old watch his grandfather gave him, cleans it meticulously, gets it polished and fixed up as often as he can spare, only ever entrusting it to you, his secretary, to handle it but with strict instructions to let no one else touch it, and to make sure that the horologist cleans/repairs it in front of you so they don't mess with it, no matter how many times you've assured him that no one's going to try and steal an old, no-name watch from him when he's got a whole drawer full of patek philips at home.

ceo!tobio who's really not great at social functions and is terrible with names, so he brings you to every event as his date, if only so you can whisper the names and titles of the people he's about to meet into his ear right before he meets them, who keeps you so close to him that rumors start to spread about the pair of you, but doesn't bat an eyelash when people ask him about it, telling them in no uncertain terms that his private life, and yours, is none of their damn business, and that if they don't keep their noses out of it, they can say goodbye to whatever business they might've wanted to do with him and his company.

ceo!tobio who apologizes for staying so late sometimes and keeping you there with him, who offers to order whatever you want for dinner on the company card, but you end up having taco bell on the floor of his massive office, sitting cross-legged like a pair of teens at the park, him leaning back against his work desk, watching you with soft eyes as you tell him about the meetings he has tomorrow, who they're with, and the agendas you'd drawn up. he tells you he doesn't know what he'd do without you, and his voice is so honest that for a second you don't know what to say except to tell him that he doesn't have to worry about that for a while yet since you're not planning on going anywhere.

ceo!tobio who knows about the strict company policy on fraternization and kind of agonizes over it bc he's pretty sure whatever the hell he's feeling for you isn't just platonic, but he has your career to worry about -- he knew what he was getting into when he took over for his grandfather, but he doesn't want to drag you into the mess as well, and he thinks it might be better to nip it in the bud, but when he tries, you glare at him and say that he's being childish and is just using this as a scapegoat for not facing his feelings, and he knows you're right but he doesn't know what to do about it until you remind him, much more gently this time, that as the ceo, he does in fact have the power to change the specific wording of the fraternization policy to allow for relationships as long as work boundaries remain professional and there are no direct conflicts of interest.

ceo!tobio who doesn't know how he'd manage without you and trusts you more than he trusts himself, but he doesn't want to be the kind of ceo who bends the rules to suit his own wants and needs so he takes it to the board and gets it pushed through properly, and when it finally comes out that you two are kind of a thing... no one is rly surprised, bc c'mon anyone with eyes could've seen the way he was looking at you, and you back at him. did he think he was being discreet?

but ceo!tobio who tells you whole-heartedly that he'll take care of you if you don't want to be his secretary anymore, and that you'll be impossible to replace, but it's equally impossible for him to get rid of the thought of you and him living together, of him coming home to you every day, of him waking up to you every morning, so if you'll let him... he'd love to give you his everything for the rest of his life, all you have to do is say the word.

tagging tobio nation: @hiraethwa @hiraethwrote @yogurtkags @mcdonaldsnumberone

taglist: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @dira333 @stunies @fennecnco - join the taglist

#⛈ monsoon season #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kageyama tobio fluff #kageyama tobio imagines #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq!! x reader #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama fluff #kageyama x you #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyuu #haikyuu!!

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nvuy · 1 month ago

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The Halloween stranger au has me in an actual chokehold PLS—

you didn’t ask but i have so much more for hsr.

tw for typical halloween slasher fics talk — murder, blood, gore, obsession, stalking, yandere themes, overall horror themes & subjects.

sunday & robin in a wrong turn (2021) / mandy (2018) / midsommar (2019) spin off: where, surprise surprise, your car breaks down and you get picked up by a sweet girl who introduces you to her small private town off the highway. she expresses that her town is due to have a religious celebration over the weekend, and it’s going to be a bit to get your car repaired in town.

you’re introduced to the family head who is oddly pleased to meet you, and says you’re just perfect for the celebration. somehow, along the way, as repressed and closed in robin is, she turns her affections for you—the most normal person she’s met—into this strange twisted romance. you’ve somehow seduced her, and sunday finds out.

as revenge, sunday brings you in for questioning. he’s disgusted that someone like you—who he now labels as some sort of antichrist—can trudge into this town, sully and ruin his sister’s innocence. somehow, however, you manage to seduce him, though not on purpose. you plead your case and promise to leave and never come back, but as you’re being held captive, sunday finds himself falling victim to whatever curse you’ve inlaid upon him.

doctor ratio in gothika (2003): where you work as a psychiatrist and struggle to help your patients. your coworker, doctor ratio, has continuously held down his advances and interests towards you, despite the chemistry. you then wake up confused as a patient in the hospital you used to work at, and doctor ratio does everything in his power to believe you and help you out.

and despite how much you plead and beg to be set free, he can’t do anything that would result in you hurting him, someone else, or even worse, yourself.

acheron and black swan in scream (1996): two girls crash into your house, chase you around with knives, killed all of your friends and anyone that tried to make any advances on you in the past. two repressed homosexuals running after ANOTHER repressed homosexual (you)? banger.

and yes, you do shove a grand piano down the stairs. and yes, black swan gets smacked right in the face with it. all the better when you’re dragged by your hair into the bedroom and she has a nice bruise on her face, and acheron is extremely pissed off.

jing yuan or argenti in the candyman (1992): the ghost in the mirror that only comes out once someone has uttered its name three times becomes infatuated with a detective trying to investigate the mysterious disappearances and murders over the infamous ghost story.

both argenti and jing yuan fit the personality of sinister, yet gentle and beautiful, where the candyman in the original 1992 slasher worked more to seduce his victims that outright murder them.

blade in a the boy (2016) / halloween (1978) spin off: where you find another resident living in your house after investigating a series of strange knocks. you end up communicating with the supposed ghost that haunts your home.

and it is only when you fall victim to an unfortunate home invasion that the apparent ‘ghost in the walls’ is a real man that’s been living in your attic for years, and has been watching your every move.

he’s also developed an unhealthy obsession with you—and, boy, has it been a while since you’ve seen certain articles of clothing.

#✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )#✦ ( scribbles. )#( i have an obsession. with putting hsr characters in cheesy horror flicks. )#argenti x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #dr ratio x reader #acheron x reader #black swan x reader #sunday x reader #robin x reader

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nastythangzzz · 9 months ago

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BTS OT7 X Female reader

Warning : this is nasty so get ready, gangbang, double, triple & fourth penetration, public sex, anal sex, squirting, slapping, spitting, aftercare, creampie etc..

Down there, I’ll write differents scenarios of OP being fucked by ot7 bts. AND if you guys like these kind of scenarios, you can ask me to develop and to write about it more!! Also if you want to develop it yourself you can ask me in private :))

scenario 1 : where you are a slutty and whorish girl. You can’t go a day without smth inside you. You would sneak out while your family was asleep just to go to a different club where you gets gangbanged and thrown like a rag doll by different men. Heck, you would even sneak out to participate in gloryholes where you pretends you works there so you can fuck everyone. You can’t stay with one boyfriend, you wants as many dicks you can. You’ll hump and insert everything in your pussy and ass whenever you gets the chance. Wherever you’re in school, restaurant, club, public road, weddings, events, etc… if you gets horny while ur out, you’ll squirt and fuck your self right there without knowing. You loves the thrill of getting caught.

One day you were on your way back to home after having a stressful and hard day, you were just begging for dicks atp. You were getting horny and worked up alone your car, you reached an empty long abandoned road that no one walks by anymore. You walked out your car and went looking for your differents toys in the back of your car hidden in depth. You were wearing a tight short dress with stockings, you immediately left out your stockings long ago, wearing nothing underneath. You went out ur way to put the biggest butt plug you have in your asshole and immediately shoved the biggest dildo you have towards you pussy. And you were doing this in the open, bitting your lips and letting the most obscene loud moans. You practically squirted 4 times in a row, putting different dildos and butt plugs up on ur pussy and ass. So much cum and squirt were oozing out ur pussy and asshole. Since you were most an anal freak, you put the biggest dildo up your ass and rammed it roughly, you went back and front shoving the biggest dildo you have up on your pussy and ass, leaving behind a long trail of cum and squirt. What you didn’t you know is that you were being watched by 7 men. Those 7 men were in fact construction workers who were being called to restore and repair that empty road you were in fact fucking yourself in. The sight of yourself was to die for. You were brutally shoving that dildo up on your pussy, a big plug inside your ass while moaning and pinching your nipples. You were hoping for someone to catch, bend you and fuck the hell outta you. After some long minutes of fucking yourself publicly, you noticed some men looking at you. You put your dildo on the ground and went on your knees to ride it hard, and at the same time you pushed another dildo towards your mouth. Anyone coming close or far to you, will hear clapping noises. In fact, you were riding your dildo in the ground brutally, slapping your ass and sucking the hella out of that silicone. You stopped yourself from cumming by leaving that dildo out of your pussy and instead shoving it inside your asshole. The boys had enough so they immediately went over you. You were not taken aback at all, you were waiting for it.

“Let’s not talk too much. Just tell me yall names and Treat me like the slut I am” you said while slapping and rubbing your pussy in front of them.

The boys introduced themselves one by one and it felt like you were in heaven. They were so attractive, so big and tall. You went on your knees, pulled all of their pants and sucked them off. Their cocks were huge and veiny, you couldn’t wait to have all them inside you. And you don’t care if anyone other than the 7 of them joins you.

You kept sucking and gagging on their cocks. Your mascara and whole makeup were ruined. They kept slapping their cocks to your cheeks and mouth, all while yelling profanities at you.

Jungkook took you harshly by your hair, bent you over your car and immediately shoved himself into your wet pussy all while leaving long and rough kisses all along your neck. The rest of the boys stood next to you and were slowly jacking themselves off. You couldn’t wait to get fucked by all of them. Your pussy was letting obscene noises, by the time you’ll get fucked by the million time by them, both of your pussy and ass will get loose and slippery.

You quickly reached your orgasm with jungkook but you still wanted more. Namjoon took you from Jungkook’s hands, held you in the air and abruptly shoved himself into you. Your pussy was so so hot and wet and it felt like heaven for them. Jimin came behind you and immediately shoved his whole cock into your asshole. Your asshole was well prepared and wet so you immediately moaned and lowered your head at jimin’s so he can also leave kisses to your neck. You were being fucked so good by them and so well taken care of. They were fucking you while at the same time, holding you gently and whispering nasty & beautiful things to your ears. You saw white and immediately squirted like a rain fall. Namjoon left your pussy out while you were still being fucked in the ass by jimin. You and him stood alone, him still plowing your asshole, your pussy was wide open for all the boys to see. The rest of the boys, came close to your pussy, and one by one, shoved their cock back and forth so you can squirt more. It started by yoongi, then taehyung, then Jin then jhope. All them fucked your pussy back and forth for some minutes, not letting you cum, they were holding your head and spitting on your face, all while fucking your brains out. They were playing with your pussy by slapping their cocks into your pussy and seeing so much squirting come out made them sure it will fill a bucket. All of this was happening while they were switching between your pussy and asshole. You had a train ran on you on public and you loved it, both of your pussy and ass were loose that even their fist will fit.

Taehyung took you by the waist and made you bent over your car, spreading your legs. The boys can see all the mess they made, jhope spread both of your pussy and ass for all the boys to see. They started slapping your asscheeks and pussy all while spitting and sucking on it. Your pussy and especially your ass, were so loose and gaped that they wished they all can fit their cocks into you.

As a final fucking, you were taken on jin’s arms and laid on your car. Since you had a big car with a folding top, it was easy for the rest of the boys to join you. You had him immediately plow your pussy, he stopped for a second so yoongi can join him in your pussy. The stretch was so good and you had no pain since you was used to being double fucked in the pussy by different men. they both were thrusting inside you at the same time and plowing your back out. They again stopped for a second so the other boys can fuck your ass too. Taehyung came close to you and roughly shoved himself into your ass. You let a loud ass moan that’s probably heard from afar. You couldn’t stop screaming and moaning when jhope added himself to taehyung fucking both of your ass at the same time. You were in a wonderful and unbelievable place, you were being fourth penetrated by 4 attractive men who have the biggest and thickest dicks you’ve seen. You were being double fucked in your pussy and at the same time double fucked in your asshole.

“Oh fuck… like this like this… fuck this is so gooodddd… like that… fuck me like that please…..” you said while screaming and moaning hard.

The boys inside you made it their mission to thrust into you brutally and hardly at the same time all while pulling your hair, kissing your neck and face, and screaming profanities and insults towards you.

Anyone passing by this road will take a notice of your purely pornographic moans. In fact, you were looking like you came out straight of a porn scene but you were always like that. If it wasn’t for your family and friends, you would straight up debut in the porn department bagging and riding as much cocks as you want. Hell you’d even fuck the whole cast.

You were in an ecstatic state, your makeup was ruined and your face was full of cum. You had red handprints all over your face and asscheeks. Both of your pussy and ass were loose, gaped and well fucked, so much cum were oozing out of it. Your pussy was left long ago while you were still being double fucked in your ass with squirt coming out your pussy. After a long hour of switching places and being fucked multiple times in the ass and pussy, they were not making it easy, pulling their cocks back and forth into you. You finally reached your climax and almost fainted. You laid on your car spreading your legs and let all the boys cum on you. You had your boobs, face, pussy and ass full of cum and you liked the sight of it.

“Now smile for the camera bitch” said jimin while filming and snapping pictures of you.

Since the boys saw you masturbating by yourself, jimin took his phone and filmed all the scene, from when you started fucking yourself with your dildos, fingers and butt plugs to the boys ramming you brains out.

The boys made it their mission to take pictures of every part of your body, your pussy, gaped asshole and your face full of sticky cum. By the end, they all held you in the air, spreading your legs, touching your pussy and pinching your nipple so jimin can take a selfie of all of you together. You couldn’t wait for the boys to send you everything they took so you can jack off about later.

So the boys left you alone with their numbers registered on your phone, before they left, they took care of you, they made you drink water and clean your face, they wanted to clean your whole body but you couldn’t let them and since you are a dirty slut, you told them that you liked having cum left on you whenever you get gangbanged. They were shocked and couldn’t wait to bang you the next time.

#bts ot7 smut #bts smut #jimin smut #jin smut #jhope smut #jungkook smut #namjoon smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #bts reader #bts x reader #ot7 smut bts #bts fanfic #bts ot7

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determinate-negation · 2 months ago

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??? Why are people obsessed with spreading misinformation. The federal government IS engaging with and supporting local communities in North Carolina: https://www.fema.gov/press-release/20240929/president-joseph-r-biden-jr-approves-major-disaster-declaration-north

That includes funding for “temporary housing and home repairs, low-cost loans to cover uninsured property losses and other programs to help individuals and business owners recover from the effects of the disaster.” As well as “Federal funding is also available to state, tribal and eligible local governments and certain private nonprofit organizations on a cost-sharing basis for emergency work in Alexander, Alleghany, Ashe, Avery, Buncombe, Burke, Caldwell, Catawba, Clay, Cleveland, Gaston, Haywood, Henderson, Jackson, Lincoln, Macon, Madison, McDowell, Mitchell, Polk, Rutherford, Transylvania, Watauga, Wilkes and Yancey counties and the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians.

Federal funding is also available on a cost-sharing basis for hazard mitigation measures statewide.”

Like you can feel how you feel about the admin. But please don’t lie. It’s fucking annoying and there’s enough of that on the right.

not lying, heres a video of him saying theyve given them all they can. that is all the post said.

youtube

this is a katrina level disaster, its days later and theyre finally starting to move on it after hundreds of people are already dead, towns are completely wiped off the map, theres going to be billions of dollars in damages and sorry but the relief is in the long term futile unless they start drastically restructuring shit to survive climate change because this is going to keep happening! reports of people fighting over gas and food, people stranded for days and dying as the buildings theyre on collapse. at the exact same time the us just announced additional billions of dollars of funding for israel to keep bombing lebanon, gaza, yemen, and iran.

8.7 billion for israeli colonialism and genocide this week, 3.4 billion for israel a month before that. i cant find a number yet for how much theyll be putting towards hurricane relief. hopefully a lot but just because the us government says theyre doing something isnt actually a reason to believe its being implemented well. the historical record would actually indicate the opposite.

the changes that the us should be making to prevent mass death and destruction from imminent effects of climate change are massive and would require a major federal economic and infrastructure program as well as quick action on the energy transition. other countries are actually doing this to at least some extent. the us isnt. oil production hit a record high under biden while the us puts insane tariffs on chinese clean energy tech. be fucking for real

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jexistheblogger · 2 months ago

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {3}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: The rift you have caused comes to a destructive head when summer breaks is over. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, crash, injuries, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Summer Break “I really fucked up.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound hoarse from all the crying. You were curled up on your side on the couch in Pierre’s apartment in Milan, your head on his lap as his hand ran up and down your arm in comfort. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“He’s your brother, he’ll forgive you,” he assured you once again. “I’ve said way worse things to my brothers. Maybe this break is exactly what you need, get away from Max for a few weeks, have some space.”

“And Lando, and Charles.” You groaned as you rolled onto your back and stared up at your closest friend. “You have a bear in the cave.”

“Gross, don’t look up my nose,” he said as he pushed you off his lap.

“I can’t help it, it’s the angle,” you laughed as you sat up before sobering. “Have you spoken to them?”

“Lando was heading back to Monaco to spend the holidays with Luisa, and Charles was on his way to the Alps to meet up with Charlotte.”

You sighed at the mention of their girlfriends and Pierre gave you a look of pity that you resented. Pulling your phone out, with the determination to move on from the silly crushes that had developed over the years, you opened the Raya app and shifted closer to him. “Can you help me?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the phone and locking it. “I’m taking you on a road trip.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah, but I think it’s what you need.”

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You reunited with the team for Max’s home race and a sea of orange filled the stands, all cheering for their Lion. You had tried to talk to him when you arrived at the track but you didn’t know what to say to repair the rift you had made. Every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out.

“That one’s for you,” Lance said as he tapped your elbow.

“Huh? What? Yeah, totally,” you rambled trying to recover from zoning out thinking about the three weeks of silence, not only with Max but Lando and Charles too. You had sat beside the Canadian on the sofa, the furthest point from the others and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“You look like you enjoyed your vacation with Pierre. It was quite different to how you usually spend your down time.”

“Because I was sober?” you teased. “My liver needed a break, as did my PR team, and it was really quite fun. Exactly what I needed actually and it was great to reconnect with Pierre since he upgraded to Yuki.”

You could feel three sets of eyes on you from the other end but then the conversation was diverted their way and you sagged back into the couch. That was until you heard the news that the holiday had been dubbed ‘break-up season’. Both Spaniards had become single in the first week, Logan and Lando in the second and Charles in the third. It had been quite the shock to their fans.

If Pierre hadn't removed your social media for the break you would have known all of this but instead you had to find out on stage with dozens of cameras capturing the surprise on your face.

The second the interview was over you chased after Lando and finally caught up to him at the McLaren motorhome.

“Hey, can we talk?” You were aware that there were still plenty of cameras around, and it looked like the Netflix crew were scheduled to his team too. “Somewhere private.”

He didn’t exactly look happy at the request but his eyes softened as you quietly begged, “please, Lan?”

“In here,” he sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair as he opened the door to his room. The door clicked shut behind you and you looked around the small space, the air still humid and smelling like his body wash from the shower he took before the media conference.

“How was your break?” you asked as he sat down on a padded bench, leaving the more comfortable chair for you.

“Could have been better.”

There was a pregnant pause where you both waited for each other to speak. It wasn’t like him to be so short and you thought more would follow but he just stared back at you.

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands on your lap. “I, uh, wanted to apologise for what I said to you. You were just being a good friend and I was a complete bitch.”

“You were a bitch,” he stated bluntly before he bit his lip and mouthed a silent, ‘sorry’ and tucked his knee up so he could rest his cheek on it.

You huffed a laugh of agreement. “I’ve heard that once or twice. I’m a work in progress, but I’m trying to change. Can you forgive me?”

His head lifted with a frown, his soft curls falling over his forehead to meet them. “What? No.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it was but you had thought he would at least accept your apology. Rising from the chair, you started to make your way to the door until you heard the vinyl bench squeak as he followed.

“Wait,” he said as he caught your hand reaching for the handle. “You were right. So there’s nothing to forgive.” He tugged your hand so you turned to face him before he let it slip through his fingers. “I was unhappy, and I probably should have broken up with Luisa a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess I just didn’t want to be alone again. Which, after you left, I realised is a poor reason to be in a relationship. So I really wasn’t up for offering advice. ” He smiled sheepishly and opened his arms. “Forgive me?”

You stepped into his embrace and buried your head in his neck with a nod. “You were right too.”

“About what?”

“Everything.” You were reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms but there was still one other person to apologise to. “I owe you and Charles for saving my ass. How about dinner at my place on Tuesday?”

“I mean, it was mostly me,” he joked as he puffed his chest up and pushed his shoulders back. “But we can invite him too, I guess.”

“Of course, my hero,” you swooned sarcastically before leaning in and kissed his cheek. “See you next Tuesday. See what I did there?”

“There’s my Spitfire,” he laughed and shook his head. “For a moment I thought you were gone.”

Max’s motorhome was empty when you reached it and so was the garage but his engineer, Calum, was there and said Max had gone to visit family. It hurt more than you expected to hear that you hadn’t been invited, especially since it was Jos’ side of the family that lived in the Netherlands. The side of the family you shared with Max.

That pain followed you as you wandered around the paddock a little lost, signing autographs and stopping for photos with fans on autopilot. You didn’t know where to go, or how to fill the hours until Max returned. Then when he returned you weren’t even sure he would want to see you after what you said.

“Hey, I’ve called out like three times,” Charles said as he suddenly appeared in front of you and frowned at your startled reaction. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, sorry, I’m in a world of my own,” you said as you looked around to see you were outside Ferrari hospitality. “How, uh, how have you been? I meant to call you over the break and thank you for what you and Lando did for me.”

“It’s no problem, but it was mostly me.”

“Funny, he said the exact same thing,” you smirked. “Anyway, as a thank you, you two are coming to my place for dinner on Tuesday. I promise I won’t give you food poisoning, this time.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” he said sarcastically. “But Tuesday works for me. Where were you heading anyway? I thought you would be with Max.”

You couldn’t hide the wince on your face at the mention of your brother and Charles reached out and rubbed your shoulder with a look of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I actually need to go do a thing,” you lied as you started to feel the increasingly familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“Chérie, wait.” Charles made to follow as you backed away but he stopped when you shook your head.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you turned your back and wiped your eyes. It was race week and your emotions were all over the place, it was a recipe for disaster.

Race Day

You threw your phone across the room and watched it bounce off the couch before hitting the floor with a crack. You could worry about the broken screen later, with the race only an hour away and Max still ignoring you there were more pressing things to think about.

You worked through your warm up routine under the watchful eye of your physiotherapist before making your way to the reflex machine. The lights danced across the buttons and you slapped each one with precision until it suddenly clicked off.

“You’re not focused,” Kristian tutted.

“I hit them all,” you argued as you caught the bottle he threw to you and took a drink.

“Reacting out of habit is not the same as responding by reflex. You need to think, then do, not just do.”

You grumbled under your breath about what a load of crap it was but made a show of the next round before he gave up with a sigh. “I’m going to head down to the grid,” you said as you grabbed your helmet and balaclava. “Pierre can help me finish up.”

It was easy to spot Pierre with his PT, his concentration solely on the tennis balls he was focused on catching before they hit the ground.

“Mind if I butt in?” you asked as you took the tennis balls and replaced Ben. “He still won’t talk to me.” You dropped the balls at the same time and he easily swiped them from the air before tossing it back into your palm.

“You can take my spot for the anthem, I think I saw my name next to his on the seating chart.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you admitted as you dropped the balls one after another trying to trick him. “I called him a dick, twice.”

One ball bounced along the asphalt when he laughed, missing the easy catch. “That’s the opposite of apologising.”

“I know, he just pissed me off.” You caught sight of the race suit that matched yours and watched him walk on the far side of the grip with Charles. “I don’t like being ignored.”

Pierre grabbed the wayward tennis ball and returned to hold them up over your hands. “You did start that by ignoring him first.”

“I thought we were friends.” You caught the ball he dropped and tossed it at his face. “You’re meant to take my side.”

He caught it before it could connect with his nose and crossed his arms with an amused smirk on his face. “I am your friend, so I will tell it like it is. Go talk to him.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you stepped away and he nodded encouragingly as you made your way across the home straight.

“Not now,” Max said as soon as you stepped into his field of vision, making Charles look over his shoulder.

“Then when?” you asked. “After the race? Next week? Next year? Should I put my name up for a transfer? Is that what you want?”

“Woah, what's going on?” Charles asked as watched you grow increasingly more upset with each question.

“Nothing, just an inchident,” Max said coldly. “Oma sends her regards and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see you.”

“You didn’t fucking invite me,” you growled as you stepped closer jabbed a finger into his chest.

Max rolled his eyes and schooled his face to one of boredom. “You told me to leave you alone.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. “You are such a fucking asshole.”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Charles interrupted, pushing himself between you and your brother before you could get disqualified. “Walk with me.”

Charles stepped closer and his hands grabbed your shoulders, turning you around before one hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you to keep moving.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he took a seat against the pitwall and pulled you down beside him. “And don’t say it’s nothing. You haven’t been yourself all week.”

“We had an argument and now he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Charles draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “He’s your older brother, he could never hate you. Trust me, there’s nothing Arthur could say that would make me hate him.”

“Arthur’s too nice to say anything mean, but me? I’m a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch, you’re just passionate.” He let his head fall back against the wall with a chuckle. “I like that about you.”

“You must be the only one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he murmured quietly and you followed his line of sight to Lando who was making his way over while everyone else started to move to the front of the grid. “Time to go.”

Charles stood up as Lando offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Try not to get too excited hearing the Dutch anthem,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from both of them as they fell into step either side of you, “again.”

You were driving recklessly, determined to beat Max, but it had meant receiving a black and white flag warning for exceeding the track limits three times. One more violation and you would get a five second penalty, practically handing the win over on a silver platter.

“You need to manage your tires,” Nicholas warned over the radio. “You are pushing them too hard, the degradation rate is exponential. They won’t last to the end of the race unless you slow down and stay between the white lines.”

“I can’t slow down when I have Max with DRS behind me.”

“That’s not the plan. We want a 1-2 finish, it doesn’t matter who leads across the line.”

“It does to me.”

You passed the next DRS detection line and took the corner at speed before hitting the straight and trying to defend your position. Max was right at your bumper, riding the slipstream as he increased speed in preparation to slingshot out and past you.

Only something went wrong.

Instead of going around you, Max’s front wing crashed into the back of your car, lifting your rear wheels off the track and sending you scraping the length of the pit wall while he spun out. Debris hit your helmet as Max’s car slammed into the concrete barriers and carbon fibre splintered apart, raining over you and the track.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you growled into the comms as you pulled your steering console out and unbuckled the harness. You jumped over the side of your car and ran towards Max’s, hurling abuse at him the entire way. “Who’s the spoiled brat now? You just couldn’t let me have the win could you? Dick!”

A pained groan was all you heard from the cockpit and the anger evaporated in an instant as dreaded fear replaced it. You leapt onto the top of the car and reached over the halo, pulling the visor up on Max’s helmet to see a dazed look in his icy blue eyes before they fluttered shut.

“Max, I need you to open your eyes. Look at me, dammit!” you growled as you started to pull his harness open and looked around wildly, wondering when help was coming. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I don’t hate you, okay? I don’t hate you. You’re my big brother and I love you, so you have to stick around and be overprotective and piss me off for a very long time. So open your fucking eyes!”

“Zusje?” he asked after a moment of blinking dumbly. “What happened?”

“You forgave me and said I could borrow your yacht.”

“Bullshit,” he groaned as he pushed his harness off his shoulders and accepted your hand to help him climb out. “I would never let you borrow my yacht.”

A groan wheezed out as his boots hit the ground and you wrapped an arm around his waist to take his weight, holding him steady. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Only if I can get a recording of your radio, you actually sounded worried for me,” he said with a laugh before he clutched his ribs. “Ow, fuck.”

“Of course I was worried, asshole. I thought you were hurt.”

“I am hurt,” he pointed out before rapping his knuckles on your helmet. “I love you too, little sis. Even when you say you hate me.”

Click here for Not A Verstappen: Gridlock {1}.

Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months ago

Note

WIBTA if I asked my boyfriend to kick his boyfriend out of our communal living situation and out of our polycule due to “incompatibility”?

submitted 5/22/2024 ~💔🌈🏚️<- to find

I (26F) am considering asking my boyfriend O (32M) to kick out his other partner/boyfriend E (36M) from our communal living situation and our polycule, because E is not compatible with either our relationship or the group as a whole. Here’s the situation: The three of us currently live in O’s childhood home (his parents died and he inherited it), along with four other roommates who are not in the polycule. All of us split the bills evenly, except for E because he was recently fired from his job as a mechanic, so he pays a much smaller amount, which means all of us have to increase the amount we pay in order to keep up. This would be fine except E is not looking for a job and this is causing financial strain on all of us. It’s a large house and it’s very old so it tends to need a lot of maintenance, currently we have to get the roof repaired because a section of it caved in during a snowstorm (that part of the house is roped off because it’s still not fixed of course) and just my luck, my room happened to be on the floor below this, so O has me sleeping in his room because he’s worried floor above my room may have rotted from exposure due to the caved in roof. This will be relevant later. Now, here are the specific reasons why I want E out of here (aside from financial strain):

Everyone in the house is part of the same religious group. We are a neo pagan group (details not necessary for this but feel free to ask questions, but just know that we have some agreed upon beliefs and practices that we’ve developed over the past three years) and many in our group, including O, practice witchcraft. E, however, is a hardcore atheist, and is condescending towards us whenever we partake in our various practices. O thinks that E can be persuaded to respect us and that it’s just a matter of time, but I do not think that’s probable. O is the elected spiritual leader in the house (one: because he’s held these beliefs longer than most of us and brought us together, and two: it’s his house), so only O can kick someone out for religious reasons. We can vote to kick someone for abuse, but nothing E has done is technically bad enough.

He should be kicked from the polycule because I think he is using O either for sex or to make up for something he did back when they were in a situationship. The past between those two is very intense because it’s linked to E discovering his identity and it was O’s first relationship. It ended very badly on horrible terms, but they decided to give it another shot for whatever reason. E had an intense vendetta against me from the very beginning and he thinks that I’m delusional for believing O is in love with me because when O liked E it was “very different”. E has his own bedroom, but spends most of the time in O’s room, typically to have sex. Sometimes they want me to join in with them, but I usually decline because I’m suspicious of E’s intentions and I do not trust him. The one time I did agree to join in led to my unplanned pregnancy. I also think E is cheating on O because whenever O leaves the house, E brings over his ex B (33F), and those two hook up (or at least I assume they do because they lock themselves in the bedroom for hours).

On the cheating note, E has been getting checks in the mail from B, but he hasn’t been using this money to contribute to the bills, but rather stashing it away into a “project fund”.

B is dating my ex A (28F) and I know B has been gossiping to her because A has been posting to her private insta account long rants about “another perfectly good lesbian turned by dicks and witchcraft”, which could ONLY be referring to me because as far as I know, she hasn’t had any relationships in between ours and her’s and B’s. She is radfem and tradcatholic so the statement isn’t a surprise, but she only started posting that stuff After B started coming over, and she was kicked from the house for being intolerant, so it’s odd for her to start ranting about me now.

I think it’s unfair that my ex was kicked out for intolerance while I was still dating her, even though I objected (it was a toxic relationship and I was in deep), but O hasn’t kicked out E despite E also being intolerant and dating one of us.

#aita #am i the asshole

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ghcstao3 · 11 months ago

Text

Johnny likes art. Likes looking at it, likes creating it, likes learning about it. He’d always known he’d end up in something involving it at the end of everything, and that he does.

For a few years now, Johnny has worked as an art restorer. Primarily fixing up paintings, it’s pretty close to ideal work—he gets to study all sorts of new styles, and bring pieces back to life so they can be admired again, as they were always meant to be.

The only downside is that it’s freelance work.

At the very least, gone are the days where Johnny had to make a real effort to establish himself—but just because he gets better jobs now, doesn’t mean he gets better supervisors.

His current employer is a great example of this.

Johnny had been hired by a man named Ghost, real name unknown, to revamp a private collection of his for an absurd amount of money. Johnny would be an idiot not to accept—even when part of the terms included working onsite and with provided tools in order to get everything done.

The house—manor, more like—is beautiful, nearly as stunning as the eclectic collection or artwork Johnny is meant to repair itself. He’s greeted by a man going by the name of John Price, supposedly a dear friend of Ghost’s, here to meet Johnny since his employer wouldn’t be home for another day yet. He’s kind, not strange like Johnny thought anyone involved with this might be, and he introduces Johnny to the few pieces he’d be working with.

It’s… intriguing, to say the least. Because the pieces come from different time periods, but all look as if in the same state of decay. It’s bizarre, Johnny thinks, because all other artwork in the home is pristinely kept.

That isn’t to say he’s not grateful for this opportunity, of course.

John makes good conversation until he ultimately leaves Johnny to his own devices. First day progress is well along, and by the time Johnny is seen out, he’s feeling optimistic about this job.

Then he meets Ghost.

It’s like the atmosphere of the manor has entirely shifted around the man and his broad, imposing figure. Even eyes that share the warmth of coffee pierce through Johnny, and Johnny isn’t sure what to think of the mask that obscures most of the man’s face otherwise. His voice, low and gravelly, rumbles through Johnny as he makes inquiries about the previous day, about Johnny’s process, then dismisses him to continue his restoration.

Even though Johnny doesn’t see him again until the end of his work day, he feels like he’s being watched all the while.

The third and fourth days are the same. The fifth, Ghost surprises Johnny by sitting in the room for part of the day, though he offers no commentary between incoherent grunts and what Johnny hopes to be hums of approval.

The sixth day, Ghost asks, “What do you think happened to the artist?”

Of course, there’s no signature, so even if it was by an artist Johnny knew of, there’d be no indication.

But he considers the question anyway. Considers the painting, it’s clear inspiration in impressionism, it’s pale colours and light, flowy strokes. And yet, it seems contradictory to the style—the scene within is almost… angry, sorrowful. Like grief. Its problem had been a tear in the canvas and fading paint, nothing overly difficult or unsurprising for Johnny.

So he shrugs. He doesn’t look back at Ghost, maybe afraid of that gaze, of gauging any reaction.

“Hard to say,“ Johnny admits. “A painting doesn’t tell a whole story about its inspiration, let alone its artist. And not knowing any of the artist’s other work, or when it began and ended—it’s hard to say.”

Johnny can feel Ghost looming over him. He tries not to shrink in on himself too much, but it’s almost impossibly.

For a long moment, Ghost doesn’t speak. He barely acknowledges Johnny’s response, and Johnny wonders if he’d ever get one.

If he had said the right thing.

“Hm,” Ghost finally decides. Johnny can feel his presence straighten, putting distance between them. He says, “I’ll give you a hint.”

Johnny offers a slight nod, eyes fixed on the painting before him. He still doesn’t dare turn back. “I’m always happy to learn.”

“This artwork, everything I’ve hired you to restore,” Ghost says, “it’s all from the same man.”

Immediately, Johnny frowns. His gaze darts across the piece and the collection of others he’s meant to look at, all of completely varying styles and forms, before whirling around to ask something, anything of Ghost’s statement—but he discovers Ghost to have already left.

Well, Johnny supposes with defeat.

He doesn’t know if he should let himself become curious.

(part 2)

#um um um maybe a second part soon #(this is immortal ghost btw)#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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