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Cyber Security Market - Forecast(2024 - 2030)

Cyber Security Market Overview

Cyber Security Marketsize is forecast to reach $360 billion by 2030, estimated to grow at a CAGR of 9.5% during 2024-2030. The increasing use of technology such as artificial intelligence, IoT, machine learning and so on are significantly driving the cybersecurity market. Furthermore, the increasing demand for cloud-based cybersecurity systems in order to reduce data loss are also enhancing the growth of the market. The rising demand for network and endpoint security, information technology security mobile security, behavioral detection is fueling the growth of the market during the forecast period. The telecom organizations are adopting advanced cyber security solutions such as real-time security monitoring, instant cyber posture visibility, and rapid threat resolution to prevent the cyber-attack on telecom networks. Along with the telecom sector, the aerospace industry is considered to be another key end-users to cyber security market. The aerospace and defense industry are prone to cyber-attack due to its continuous exposure to non-A&D, OT-based technologies.

Thus, this industry is adopting advanced cybersecurity solution to enhance protection against cybercrime. The rising need for solutions ranging from antivirus software, unified threat management system, next-generation firewalls, DNS filtering, malware protection and threat intelligence will drive the demand for cyber security. One prominent trend in the cyber security market is the increasing adoption of Zero Trust Architecture (ZTA). This approach challenges the traditional perimeter-based security model by assuming that threats can originate from both inside and outside the network. ZTA emphasizes strict identity verification and access controls, requiring continuous authentication and authorization for every user and device attempting to access resources. With the proliferation of cloud services, remote work, and mobile devices, organizations are realizing the limitations of perimeter defenses alone. As a result, they are turning to ZTA to bolster their defenses and mitigate the risks associated with insider threats, unauthorized access, and advanced persistent threats. 

The growing recognition of ZTA's effectiveness in enhancing security posture is driving significant investment in Zero Trust solutions across various industries. Another key trend shaping the cyber security market is the increasing integration of artificial intelligence (AI) and machine learning (ML) technologies for threat detection and response. As cyber threats become more sophisticated and prevalent, organizations are turning to AI-driven solutions to augment their security operations. AI and ML algorithms can analyze vast amounts of data in real-time, enabling early detection of anomalies, unusual patterns, and potential security breaches. These technologies empower security teams to identify and respond to threats more efficiently, reducing detection and response times. Moreover, AI-driven security solutions can automate repetitive tasks, freeing up security personnel to focus on more strategic initiatives. With the continuous evolution of cyber threats, the demand for AI-powered security tools and platforms is expected to grow, driving innovation and investment in the development of advanced threat detection and response capabilities.

Cyber Security Market Report Coverage

The report: “Cyber Security Market Forecast (2024-2030)”, by IndustryARC, covers an in-depth analysis of the following segments of the Cyber Security System Market.

By Component: Cyber Security Software, Cyber Security Hardware, Cyber Security Services.

By Deployment: On-Premise and Cloud.

By Security Type: Network & Endpoint Security, Internet of Things/Industrial Internet of Things Security, Threat Intelligence, Mobile Security, Behavioral Detection, Cloud Security, Deception Security and Others.

By Organization Size: SME, Large Enterprise.

By Solution: Antivirus, UTM, SIEM, DDOS Mitigation, Disaster Recovery, Firewall, DLP, Web Filtering, Threat Intelligence, IAM, Risk and Compliance Management, IDS, Encryption and Others.

By Industry Vertical: Aerospace, Government, Financial Services, Healthcare, Telecommunications, Automobile, Information Technology sector and others

By Geography: North America (U.S, Canada, Mexico), Europe(Germany, UK, France, Italy, Spain, Russia, Netherlands, Denmark and Others), APAC(China, Japan India, South Korea, Australia, Taiwan, Malaysia and Others), South America(Brazil, Argentina, Ecuador, Peru, Colombia, Costa Rica and others), and RoW (Middle east and Africa)

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Key Takeaways

• In 2023, the Cyber Security market was dominated by North America owing to the increasing use of prevalent technology which has raised the risk of cyber threat leading to the need for cybersecurity solutions.

• The rising demand for cloud-based cybersecurity solutions in order to store and secure data during data loss or data breaches has driven the growth of the market

• The rapid advancement of artificial intelligence leading to the introduction of technologies such as machine learning and deep learning which will enhance the growth of the market.

• The rising security threats due to the increasing use of Blockchain systems and IoT threats are making difficult to detect cyber-attacks which is hampering the market growth.

Cyber Security Market Segment Analysis – By Deployment

Cloud segment held the largest market share of 53.1% in the Cybersecurity market in 2023. The growing of massive store applications in order to store and secure data with advanced security methods are driving the need for cloud-based security solutions. As cloud-based cybersecurity solutions offers social networking privacy, online storage, system optimization and so on. Furthermore, the rising demand for online cloud storage leads to provide backup and restorations of data caused due to data breaches or data loss. These significant advantages of cloud technology will lead to surge the growth of the market.

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Cyber Security Market Segment Analysis - By Industry Vertical

The telecom sector is estimated to grow at a CAGR of 10.2% during the forecast period 2023-2030. The GSM Association (GSMA) predicted that quantum computing will be a destabilizer for the telecom sector, making Public Key Infrastructure (PKI) obsolete in the near future. Telecommunication companies are in plans of implementing quantum-safe cryptography algorithms to mitigate cyber-attacks. In order to control cyber-attacks, the European Union (EU) has introduced many regulations such as the Network and Information Security Directive (NISD) and the General Data Protection Regulations (GDPR). NISD is yet to be implemented which requires core digital infrastructure operators and certain digital service providers to ensure that their network and information systems meet minimum standards of cybersecurity. These regulations are implemented to achieve and maintain high network security, and ensure obligatory reporting during any incidents.

Cyber Security Market Segment Analysis – By Geography

In 2023, North America dominated the Cyber Security market with a share of more than 40.2%, followed by Europe and APAC. The growing use of technology and data has led to the rise of most vulnerable cyber threats and crimes which is leading to the growth of this market in this region. Also, the financial stability in this region has allowed organization to invest in cybersecurity for providing security of data and software. These developments are propelling the growth of cybersecurity market in North America.

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Cyber Security Market Drivers

Rising importance Artificial Intelligence (AI)

The rising advancement in artificial intelligence is leading to the introduction of machine learning technologies into products which includes cybersecurity. Moreover, technologies such as deep learning are being used for face detection, natural language processing, threat detection, and others concepts. Also, the acceleration of artificial intelligence (AI) has led to the identification of new threats and helps in responding and block cyber-attacks in an organization. Hence, the deployment of artificial intelligence technologies will further drive the growth of the cybersecurity market.

Increasing need for Cybersecurity in Aerospace

Aerospace industry is widely developing with the integration of new technology such as advanced navigation and guidance systems. This system are used in airplanes which are highly vulnerable to cyber-attacks, which have irrevocable repercussions. So, the rising risk of cyber-attacks and the increasing need to protect the computer networks in the air are leading to the rise of investment in the security infrastructure. Thus, the rising investment by aerospace industry in the security infrastructure has led to the requirement of cybersecurity further boosting the growth of the market.

Cyber Security Market Challenges

Revolution of Blockchain and IoT Threats

The rising demand for Blockchain systems has made it difficult to predict the rising cyber threats which is hindering the cybersecurity market. Furthermore, the increasing usage of IoT has led to the growing number of IoT threats, as IoT includes the connection of physical devices which have a unique identifier (UID). These devices has the ability to transfer data over a network without any human interference and human to computer interaction. Thus, the software and firmware which are required to run these IoT devices make the user more susceptible to cyber-attacks further hindering the growth of the market.

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Cyber Security Market Landscape

Technology launches, acquisitions and R&D activities are key strategies adopted by players in the Cyber Security market. In 2023, the market of Cyber Security has been consolidated by the major players – AWS, Check Point Software Technologies, NTT Security, Cisco Systems, CyberArk, FireEye, IBM Corporation, Oracle, Microsoft and Juniper Networks.

Acquisitions/Technology Launches

In December 2023, Multinational conglomerate Honeywell has agreed to buy Carrier’s Global Access Solutions business for $4.95 billion in cash. The acquisition will strengthen Honeywell’s core security offerings with the addition of hardware and software properties

In Nov 2023, US-based data security company Rubrik has launched Ruby, its generative AI extension for Rubrik Security Cloud, which will speed up cyber threat detection, recovery and resilience. In response to data risk alerts generated in Rubrik Security Cloud, users can interact with Ruby, the company's AI assistant, ask follow-up questions including whether any sensitive data was impacted, or what needs to be done to restore the environment. 

[futuretonext]

The UAE Cloud Security Market is projected to grow at a CAGR of around 13.26% during the forecast period, i.e., 2022-27. The factors responsible for the market growth are the rapid investments by the global & regional cloud services providers in the country, proactive government measures towards strengthening cybersecurity, increasing adoption of cloud services by enterprises for achieving scalability & cost-effectiveness, and mitigating cyberattacks, among others, have driven the demand for cloud security solutions during the historical periods. Moreover, the UAE has been at the forefront of implementing cloud services, both in government entities & private companies. Thus, the deepening cloud cluster in the country has bolstered the need for stronger cybersecurity, which has prompted a marked increase in cloud security demand.

[sinkovia]

Black Market

Hitman Simon Riley x Doctor Fem!Reader

In desperate need of money to clear a million-dollar debt, you accept Simon's offer to become his personal doctor, earning twenty percent of each contract he completes. But as you plunge back into the black market, ghosts from your past emerge, threatening to unravel everything you've worked so hard to run away from.

Mention of Kidnapping.

Masterlist - Black Market Masterlist

Simon sat in his dimly lit house, the dim glow of his computer screen casting shadows across his face. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping impatiently on the keyboard as he navigated through the depths of the black market.

His eyes scanned the screen, brows furrowing in frustration as he scrolled through the listings, weighing the risks against the potential rewards. Contract after contract flashed before him, each promising a hefty sum of money in exchange for services rendered.

But to Simon, they were all the same—assassinations, espionage, sabotage. The thrill of danger had lost its appeal long ago, replaced by a sense of weariness and disillusionment.

Cursing under his breath, Simon scrolled through the listings for hire, his frustration growing with each passing moment. There were no personal black market doctors available for hire—every reputable one was already taken. It seemed like luck was against him today.

With a heavy sigh, he closed the browser window and turned his attention to the stack of mail sitting on his desk. Among the bills and junk mail, there it was – a jury duty summons.

He groaned aloud, rubbing his temples in frustration. Spending hours in a stuffy courtroom was the last thing he needed right now. It meant taking time away from his work, time that could be spent securing lucrative contracts and staying ahead of the game.

But there was no avoiding it. He knew he'd have to fulfill his civic duty, no matter how inconvenient it might be. With a resigned shake of his head, he tucked the summons into his pocket, another burden to add to the weight on his shoulders.

You find yourself slumping down on the hard concrete steps in front of the courthouse, the weight of defeat heavy upon you. Having lost your case and now facing a million dollars in debt, the world seems to close in around you. With a resigned sigh, you reach for your pack of cigarettes, seeking solace in the familiar routine.

"Mind sharing your pack?" A deep, coarse voice breaks through your thoughts, and you glance over to see a tall man dressed in black leaning against the railing beside you. Without hesitation, you extend your pack to him, and he takes one before returning the pack to you.

Simon curses to himself, realizing he's forgotten his lighter, confiscated earlier by a courthouse officer. "Mind lighting me? Fuckers at the courthouse took my light," he grumbles, frustration evident in his voice.

You smiled and handed him your lighter, the flame casting a warm glow on his face as he lit his cigarette. "Jury duty?" you asked casually, observing him take a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Yeah, you?" he replied, his tone resigned but with a hint of intrigue.

You laughed wryly and took another drag, the bitter taste of nicotine mingling with the heavy weight of your circumstances. "Just got sued for a million fucking dollars."

"Bloody fuck, what did you do?" Simon's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his interest immediately piqued.

You couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I replaced a man’s heart with a pig heart," you confessed, fully aware of how crazy it sounded.

Simon's eyes widened in intrigue, and without hesitation, he walked over and sat down next to you, his curiosity now fully ignited. Knowing how to perform a heart transplant suggested a level of medical expertise that interested him. 

"And how the bloody hell did you do that?" he asked, his curiosity evident in his voice.

“I was just sitting at the intersection for ages waiting for the light to change, when I noticed a guy getting mugged. Without thinking, I grabbed my emergency kit from the car and rushed over. Since I have O negative blood, I used my own blood for a transfusion to stabilize him. Then, I spotted a truck nearby loaded with pigs. I didn't waste a second - I hopped in, grabbed a pig, and performed an open heart surgery right there on the sidewalk. Sure, the guy ended up with a pig heart, but he's alive because of it. And now he's suing me? Unbelievable. Should've left that fuck to die.”

Simon couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, but beneath the laughter, a plan began to form in his mind.

"So he was standing in the courtroom with a pig's heart?" 

You shook your head, a wry smile playing on your lips. "No, he ended up getting a proper heart transplant. One that would never have happened if I hadn't stepped in. The bastard would've bled out and wasted all my blood before the paramedics even arrived."

"Are you a licensed doctor?” 

Open heart surgery on a sidewalk and having O-negative blood? You were better than any doctor he could hire on the black market.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "No, I had my license revoked a few years back. They said my practice and way of thinking were unconventional, that I should be working in a lab making more Frankenstein’s than helping people. I took it as a compliment though. Those doctors were just scared of what I could do, of how far I would go to save someone." 

Simon smiled and took another drag before smashing the cigarette on the floor under his boot.

"So you're looking for jobs?"

You sighed, mirroring his action with your own cigarette. "In desperate need for a job."

"I think we could help each other," Simon suggested, his tone shifting slightly.

You slowly side-eyed him, then awkwardly laughed as you leaned away. "I'm not looking for jobs like that."

Simon's eyebrow quirked up before he realized how he sounded, and he shook his head with a smile. "Not like that, love. I meant that you could work for me, and I'd pay you."

You relaxed a bit and leaned back, intrigued. "What do you do?"

"Let's just say, you stay with me as my personal doctor, and I pay you twenty percent after each job I complete. You'll have your money in a couple of months," 

"A million dollars in a couple of months? What kind of jobs are giving you that type of money-" realization dawned on you, and a chill ran down your spine. Simon was involved in something much darker than you anticipated, and memories of your own past involvements in the black market came flooding back, making your palms sweat with unease.

"I'm sorry, but I can't take your offer," you said, your voice firm but polite. Simon furrowed his brows in confusion and frustration. He had just given you an opportunity of a lifetime, one you so desperately needed, and you turned him down?

Internally sighing, Simon knew he'd have to resort to more extreme measures now.

You got up and dusted off your butt before looking down at him. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm going to head out," you said, offering a weak smile before turning and heading to your car.

That night, Simon tracked down where you lived and noted your home address. He packed his duffle bag and got into his car, making his way over to your house. With careful precision, he snuck into your backyard and opened your back window before silently slipping inside.

Meanwhile, you were sitting at your desk, scrolling through job offerings in your pajamas, feeling the weight of impending debt pressing down on you. With a heavy sigh, you turned off your monitor, resigned to your fate. That's when you noticed it—the faint outline of a man in the dark reflection of your monitor screen.

Simon attempted to cover your mouth with a rag, but you reacted swiftly, elbowing him hard and knocking the wind out of him. Turning around, you landed a solid punch to his jaw, leaving Simon in disbelief. He had underestimated you.

As you ran, trying to reach your room, Simon quickly pinned you to the floor. Despite your resistance, he managed to overpower you, but you fought back fiercely, headbutting him in the face. Simon grunted, trying his best not to harm you.

You nearly reached your nightstand where you kept your gun, but Simon pinned you down again, this time on your stomach. Desperately, you struggled against him, but Simon pressed a rag against your mouth and nose, forcing you to inhale its contents. Despite your efforts to resist, you eventually succumbed to the effects, your body going limp in a matter of seconds.

Simon breathed deeply as he stood up, his chest heaving with exertion. Opening your nightstand, he retrieved your gun with a heavy sigh. "Bloody hell, love," 

Simon headed to the bathroom in search of your medical supplies. Finding what he needed, he grabbed a trash bag and hastily gathered a few of your clothes and essential items. With a sense of urgency, he tied up the bag and threw it over his shoulder, carefully picking you up and carrying you to his car.

Tag list: @shinchanboi @talooolaaloolla

[winxanity-ii]

⌜I Love, Robot | Chapter 02 Chapter 02 | history. . . loading⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

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Over the next few years, things began to change. You noticed the distance between you and Rain growing, the once-strong bond you shared slowly fraying like the worn-out edges of an old blanket.

It wasn't something you could put your finger on at first, just a creeping sense of separation that settled in your chest whenever you caught sight of her from across the room.

You'd see her more often now with the colony kids, laughing and chatting, a bright spark among the worn and weary.

At first, you were happy to see her connecting with others, but then you realized she was spending more time with them than she was with you.

It hurt, but you understood. She needed friends her own age, a distraction from the hardships that seemed to hover over all of your lives like a dark cloud.

You were about 19, maybe 20, when everything took a darker turn. You'd been freelancing for a while—small jobs that kept you under the radar, nothing too flashy.

That was until a desperate small business, teetering on the edge of collapse, sought your skills.

You were hesitant, but the pay was decent, and the work seemed straightforward enough: hacking into some old systems, unlocking what was needed to keep them afloat.

And it was a success. Or at least, you thought it was.

But success came with consequences. You didn't realize you’d been tracked, not until someone with far more power than you could fathom found you.

They came to you with an ultimatum, their voice smooth but with an undercurrent of steel that sent a chill down your spine: work for them, take on any job they needed, or they’d turn you over to Weyland-Yutani.

You knew what that meant. You'd seen enough to understand the company didn’t tolerate dissent, especially from a former prodigy with a name they hadn't forgotten.

That's when your life took a dangerous path. You agreed to their terms, the fear of what could happen if you didn't outweighing any hesitation.

The jobs started simple but quickly escalated. Hacking turned into more complex coding, cracking into secure systems, sometimes even building or reprogramming androids and bots—a skill you honed under Marcus's watchful eye.

The pay was good, better than anything you could have made in the colony, and for a while, it seemed worth it.

But it wasn't just the money that kept you going. The promise of protection from other dangerous groups, black-market dealers who might see your skills as a threat, was a lifeline you couldn’t ignore.

To protect Rain and her family, your small, adopted family, you began staying out later, sometimes disappearing for days at a time. At first, Marcus and his wife were upset, worried about your well-being and what could be keeping you away.

Rain, especially, couldn't understand why you'd suddenly become so distant, why you weren't around as much. Her confusion and hurt were plain to see, and it tore at you in ways you couldn't explain.

Marcus eventually eased up on the questioning after he found you one night in the throes of a particularly bad meltdown. You'd come home after a job went sideways—something you hadn't anticipated, a system you couldn't crack in time, and the fallout had been brutal.

You couldn't tell Marcus what had happened, not exactly, but he didn’t push. He simply sat with you in the dim light of the kitchen, his presence a steady, calming force as you tried to pull yourself back together.

"If you ever need to talk," he'd said softly, his voice thick with the kind of understanding only someone who’d lived through hardship could have, "I'm here. You know that, right?"

You nodded, though you knew you'd never burden him with the weight of what you were involved in. This was a part of your life you'd chosen to keep to yourself, a dark secret that had become a necessary evil. And even though you trusted Marcus, you couldn't bring yourself to let him in on this one truth.

But life has a cruel way of taking away the things you hold dear, doesn't it?

Just a few weeks after your 21st birthday, Marcus and his wife fell ill. The colony's cold, damp air had always been harsh, but the pneumonia they caught from the mines was unlike anything they'd faced before.

You watched helplessly as the sickness took hold, their bodies weakened by years of toil in the toxic conditions of Jackson Star. It was like watching your own parents waste away all over again—a slow, painful decline that left you feeling powerless and lost.

Rain was a mess, her normally bright, fiery spirit dulled by the looming reality of losing her parents. She tried to stay strong, but you could see the cracks forming in her armor.

You did everything you could to help, taking over the household duties, scrounging for medicine, anything to ease their suffering, but deep down, you knew there was nothing that could be done.

The disease had sunk its claws in too deep.

One night, as you sat by Marcus's bedside, his breathing ragged and shallow, he reached out, his hand weak but insistent. You took it, holding on tightly, just like you had with your own father all those years ago. The weight of his grip was lighter than you remembered, his strength all but gone.

"Y/N…" he rasped, his voice barely audible over the sound of his labored breaths. "Take care of her… take care of Rain…"

Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded, unable to speak. "I will..." you whispered, your voice breaking. "...I promise."

He smiled faintly, a shadow of his old, warm smile. "Good… that's… good…"

You stayed with him until the end, just as you had with your parents. And when the time came, when the house fell silent except for the soft sobs of Rain and the hollow echo of your own grief, you knew that once again, you were left holding onto the pieces of a shattered life.

And this time, you would do whatever it took to keep Rain safe.

No matter what.

☆

☆

Three years had passed since your adoptive parents' death, and in that time, life had only grown more complicated. You returned from your latest job—a grueling five-day ordeal that left you exhausted and hollow inside.

This time, you'd been tasked with hacking into Weyland-Yutani's high-security network, retrieving files that exposed a chilling directive: in moments of crisis, their synthetics were programmed to prioritize the company's assets over human lives, all under the guise of logical probability.

The job paid well, enough to secure you and Rain's needs for the next six months, but the price was high.

The screams and pleas of employees who’d been betrayed by the very machines meant to protect them echoed in your mind, refusing to let go. You tried to shake the images away as you made your way through the dim, narrow corridors of the small home you shared with Rain.

Entering the room, you found her curled up on your bed, her small frame wrapped around your pillow, her face buried into the soft fabric as she slept. You approached quietly, the soft sound of your footsteps barely audible over the hum of the heating unit.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you reached out and gently brushed your fingers through her hair. Rain instinctively leaned into your touch, a small sigh escaping her lips as she snuggled deeper into your pillow.

A soft smile tugged at your lips, though your heart felt heavy. Watching her sleep so peacefully, so unaware of the horrors you'd just witnessed, was both a comfort and a curse.

You knelt beside her, continuing to stroke her hair, trying to silence the panicked screams still echoing in your mind. Just as you began to lose yourself in the motion, Rain stirred.

Groggily, she opened her eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. She gave you a tired smile. "Hey," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Hey," you replied softly, your smile widening despite the weight on your chest.

Rain's brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at you, sensing that something was off. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice a little clearer, more alert.

You shook your head, stilling your hand. "Nothing," you murmured, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just go back to sleep, Rain. It's late."

She hesitated but nodded, a yawn escaping her lips as she turned over, curling up again. "Okay... But could you look over Andy?” she asked sleepily, her voice trailing off. "His eyes... something's wrong with them. He's already in the workshop, in sleep mode, waiting."

"Sure, I'll take care of him," you promised, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She mumbled a thank you, already drifting back to sleep as you stood up and quietly made your way out of the room.

You moved through the darkened house, your steps light and measured to avoid waking Rain. Despite the pitch-black surroundings, you knew every inch of this place—every loose floorboard, every creaky door hinge.

It wasn't hard to navigate to the small workshop in the back, a space that had become both a sanctuary and a battlefield for your mind.

Without turning on the main lights, you reached for the small lamp on your workbench, flicking it on and casting a soft, warm glow over the room.

In the corner, covered by a sheet, was Andy. You pulled a rolling stool behind you as you approached, removing the sheet with a practiced motion to reveal the android beneath.

Andy's face was serene, almost peaceful in the dim light. The shadows cast by the lamp danced across his features, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the soft curve of his lips.

Despite knowing he was a machine, you couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship—the subtle blend of human and synthetic, the way his face seemed almost too real.

You reached out, gently cupping the side of his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jaw. His synthetic skin was cool to the touch, but familiar. Your hand moved to the side of his neck, pressing the small port to awaken him.

The change was immediate. Andy's body tensed, his right hand shooting up to grab your wrist with surprising speed and strength. His eyes flickered to life, emitting a soft glow in the darkness. "Shh, it's okay," you whispered softly, not pulling away. "Sorry to startle you."

At the sound of your voice, Andy's grip loosened, his eyes quickly focusing on you. "Y/N," he said, his voice calm and even. "You're back."

You offered him a small smile before turning to grab your diagnostics tablet. "I've only been gone for five days," you said, connecting the tablet to the port in his neck and starting the diagnostic test.

Andy blinked as if you'd made the dumbest statement ever. "Five days is more than enough time for someone to be missed."

You giggled softly at his matter-of-fact tone. "Thanks, Dee." You glanced at the screen, focusing on the data streaming in. "Rain mentioned you've been having issues with your eyes. Can you tell me more about that?"

Andy's eyes flickered for a moment before he answered. "I... I can still see, but my vision sometimes become foggy. It affecting my ability to accurately assess situations and objects."

You nodded thoughtfully, continuing to run the diagnostics as you chatted with him, your fingers moving deftly across the tablet. "I see... We'll get it sorted. So, how have things been while I was gone?"

Andy remained still, his gaze fixed on you. "Rain and I have missed you."

A warm smile tugged at your lips. "I've missed you both too." You paused, reflecting on how much had changed since the day you found Andy in that scrapyard.

Your perception of synthetics had shifted over the years.

You'd never treated them as mere machines, but having one as a constant companion had blurred the lines between man and machine.

Despite knowing he wasn't human, Andy's human-like qualities were something you cherished. They made him unique, almost... alive in a way that was hard to define.

The soft beep from the tablet pulled you back to the present. You looked down, seeing the source of the issue on the screen. "Ahh," you sighed, turning the tablet to show Andy.

The screen was filled with lines of code, complex and unintelligible to most. To anyone else, or even to an android whose primary function wasn’t related to programming, this would have been complete nonsense. But since bringing Andy back online, you'd made it your mission to always explain everything you did to him, guiding him through each process.

Part of you believed he deserved to know, a small gesture of respect for the android who had become so much more than just a machine.

But there was another reason, a darker thought that lingered in the back of your mind: the possibility that one day, you might not be around to help him.

You wanted Andy to understand his own systems and the intricacies of his coding—not just to function but to ensure he could take care of himself if the worst were ever to happen.

Andy studied the code intently, his synthetic mind processing the information with an almost human-like concentration. "There is an error in the environmental calibration subroutine," he noted, identifying part of the issue correctly.

You chuckled, impressed. "Close, Dee. But, you got most of it right." You pointed to a specific line of code. "This here—it needs an update. The last patch didn't account for the increased levels of smog and soot in the colony's air. It's affecting your visual processors."

Routine set in as you continued to work. "What is your directive, Andy?" you asked out of habit, fingers moving swiftly to implement the necessary changes.

Andy responded almost instantly. "To do what's best for Rain."

A second passed, and then he spoke again, his voice softer. "Do you ever think about changing the directive?"

You paused, fingers hovering over the screen as you looked up at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about, Dee?"

Andy hesitated for a moment, his eyes studying you with a strange intensity. "The day Marcus uploaded my directive, I remember asking him if the girl standing above me when I first came back online was Rain. He to me it was you, Y/N."

You laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Did you ask him if I was a great hacker too?"

Andy's expression remained serious, his voice steady. "No. I asked him, 'But what about what's best for Y/N?'"

Your fingers stilled on the tablet, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say. You looked up at Andy, his face soft with an expression you couldn't quite place.

A small, self-deprecating laugh escaped your lips. "What's best for me? Ha, I've never been too good at figuring that out. If I had a directive for myself, it'd probably be something like 'make everything harder than it needs to be.'"

Andy let out a low hum, his gaze unwavering. "Even if it's not my directive, just know, I'll still want what's best for you."

You blinked back the tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning your focus back to the tablet. "Thanks, Andy," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You continued your work in silence, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket.

Andy's head tilted slightly, his eyes zeroing in on your face as if committing this moment to memory. "Of course, Y/N... anytime."

The remainder of the time was spent in a comfortable silence as you finished updating his code. You leaned back with a sigh, setting your tablet down beside you. "How are you feeling now, Andy?"

The android paused for a moment, then said, "Well, it's better than before. But if my vision gets any worse, I guess you could say... my future won't be looking 'too bright'."

You just blinked at him, taken aback by the unexpected joke, before laughter bubbled out of your lips. "Was that a 'dad joke'? Where did you learn that from?"

Andy's eyes seemed to brighten, and he sat up a little straighter. "I learned it while walking Rain to work the other day," he explained. "I like them."

You chuckled, warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of Andy picking up on humor. "Well, I'll be sure to learn some more and tell you. We can make it a little hobby between the two of us."

Andy nodded earnestly, his expression softening. "I'd like that. Sharing experiences can strengthens bonds."

You couldn't help but smile at his earnestness. "You're right about that, Dee. We can even start a collection of the worst jokes we can find."

For a moment, the room felt lighter, the shadows less heavy. Andy's presence, his attempts at humor, made the grim reality outside these walls feel a little less suffocating.

It was moments like this that reminded you why you fought so hard to keep your small world safe, even when everything else seemed so uncertain.

A/N: Ahhhh! sorry for things moving thigns so fast with all the time skips, but if you're confused, by the end of this chapter You're like 24-ish and Rain is 21, i'm following fandom ages instead of rain's confirmed 25 age. also, sorry for the long 2 intro chapters, i know most would like to just jump right into the story, but my mind wont let the good stuff happen until it at least lay down the lil backstory 😭💀💀 man, i really need to learn to get over that, but anywhoooo, hope you guys like this enough, thoguh it isn't obvious, i want this to be a sort of a slow-burn, well, on the reader's end at least, lolol, Andy's gonna go full speed tbh, but then again, that's why he's a yandere here.... hope i dont bore you guys too much, but dont fret, next chapter will start immediately with the plot! also, someone asked me to make a tag list so i'll just put that down below:

Tag List: @dreamsarenicer

[wintersongstress]

— mornings ;

In the time of spring when the bark of trees and the flat of pavements were washed with rain, Simon liked to visit the farmer’s market after his morning run. He had left you today in your shared bed, doubtlessly still dreaming as the sun dithered behind the veil of clouds, and shrugged on a hoodie, getting his trainers out from a rack in the closet. His route was dewy with a gentle mist, not enough to keep people from going about their day, but it was the good kind that cleaned the city air and sweetened the long brooms of blossoms hanging over the sidewalks.

The canopy over a flower stall dripped onto his hood as Simon stepped underneath it. Bundles of flowers were arranged in buckets with chalkboard plates sticking out, the signs advertising 3 for £10, and he browsed for a bit, thinking of you.

There was a time when all Simon knew about flowers was the memory of a window box in his childhood kitchen. Long gone, he remembers his mother potting red and pink flowers and relishing the process—the fulfilling feeling of dirt beneath her fingernails and the satisfaction of roots tenderly planted. One day a hummingbird flitted to the window while he ate his toast before school, and it was a still moment of wonder as the tiny bird prodded the ruby petals before zipping on, quick as light.

Now he was in love with his own hummingbird. A love rare and fleeting, one that, when you don’t catch it in your hands and earn every moment of keeping it, would flutter away and never return. Love could speak in flowers, he decided, when he first began to visit your flat and admire the fresh bouquet you kept on your table every time he came. I like them, you had said simply, and he smoothed a petal between his two fingers. And though he saw himself as a brute with hands better suited for violence than caresses, he wanted to learn about the gentler things in life he once thought could never be part of his.

Simon frees his nose from his face mask to smell a strange spire of green, bell-shaped flowers he had never seen before.

“Those are called Bells of Ireland,” the aproned shop lady pipes up from behind her booth. He glances over and finds she isn’t put off by his tall, dark, and out-of-place presence in the least.

“I’ll take them,” he replies. Their scent was light and earthy, like mint and lavender mingled, and their bells resemble leaves with their vein-like texture. Rare and exquisite, and perfectly you. He also picks out a cluster of mauve roses and peachy ranunculus, thinking about the way you smiled with your eyes closed when you smell his bouquets, your lips still curved when you kiss him afterwards, and lays them all on the counter.

“What a lucky girl,” the woman comments, gathering his selections and bundling them in wax paper secured with a rubber band. Simon wasn’t so sure. He always thought you could do better than him, but you would never let him catch himself thinking like that out loud. No matter what he believed of his nature, he vowed to fight like hell to be the kind of man you did deserve. So he pays the woman and bids her good day, heading on to the next stall with you on his mind as he picks out fresh strawberries and bread for the beginning ingredients of a wholesome breakfast. 

At home, Simon fills a vase with the tap and trims the flower stems, arranging each fragrant bloom in harmony with the other. He brews one of your favorite teas and sets out the honey, tending to a sizzling pan in between, then decides to open your bedroom window to gently wake you.

A warm and pleasant wind sways the curtains. Amidst their wispy movements you lay on your back, breathing deep and slow, until the song of church bells and finches twittering from the chimney tops flutters your lashes to take in the tranquil morning. Simon draws his knuckles across your forehead and follows your cheek. With sleep soft in your pretty eyes, this was his favorite view of you.

“There she is, my everything,” he murmurs.

“Hmm. I was dreaming.” With a brush of his thumb over your smiling lips, you open your eyes and gaze at him warmly, happily, holding his hand there.

Funny…he muses.

You kiss his caressing hand. “You smell like oranges.”

“I made breakfast.”

And with that you’re throwing the comforter back, springing to your feet and wrapping a sweater around your nightgown-clad form.

“It’s not going anywhere, love,” he chuckles. These mornings were you had the whole day together were his favorite. You sat out on the balcony, taking in the trees with their sprouting green tips and cutting into your French toast, planning your day together with your bare foot resting over his socked one. The sunshine of your presence fills the depths of his chest to the brim with contentment, and he wants it to last forever.

[kccinstitutes]

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[theweightofakiteofdreamsingold]

Promise (1) – J. Kiszka

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mature themes, virgin reader, teary-eyed Josh, fluff, unprotected sex (almost), oral sex (fem receiving) (almost), language, MINORS DNI

A/N: All these posts circulating about Josh leaning into people’s hands while they held him in Detroit inspired this fic. It’s gonna be some softie, first-time-ever smut with Josh, the V-card thief. 🥹

Bajabule,

-Han

“Is that thunder?” you asked, pausing to listen for the faint grumbling in the distance.

Josh paused to listen as well, his deep brown eyes fixed on the ever-darkening clouds above you. “I think so, but I didn’t see any lightning.”

The wind had started to pick up along the river where you and Josh had been kayaking with Jake, Sam, and Danny. You watched Josh as he paddled over to a big rock that was close to the bank, taking hold of it to still himself against the tugging current of the river. He looked up at the sky again, his brows furrowed in concentration.

After a moment, he paddled back out to you and the rest of the boys. “Looks like whatever this is is moving this way toward us. We should probably head out.”

The boys all muttered in agreement, and you all began to paddle downstream to look for a place to get out of the water. You’d been out on the river for at least half the day, but you were still bummed to have to go. Being with Josh and his brothers always lightened your mood.

You’d been seeing Josh for a few months now, and things seemed to be moving in a good direction. You spent a lot of time with him doing mundane things; going shopping at more farmer’s markets than you’d ever been to, visiting more record shops than you knew existed, and just keeping each other company when you had nothing else to do.

Josh was also a huge film enthusiast, so the two of you spent an abundant amount of time curled up on his couch watching movies of so many genres while Josh shared his thoughts on each one in real-time. You loved hearing him share how his mind worked, and you felt lucky to be able to have a peek at how he processed information. He was the most intelligent man you’d ever met, but it never felt intimidating to you. His brain and his heart ran on the same track, and everything he did and said was coming from a place filled with love.

Josh was tentative and understanding. He was soft. He had moments where you definitely questioned his thought processes, and he could be extremely impulsive and wild, but if the situation ever called for maturity, all of his antics disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N,” Josh called, “you okay?”

Your brain caught up to your surroundings, and you never realized how far behind you’d fallen. You looked around you, and all the boys were a solid ten yards ahead of you.

“Yep, I’m- I’m good,” you called back, hastening the pace of your strides until you made up a little ground. Danny and Sam shared a tandem kayak, while you and the twins each had your own sit-ons, freeing up a set of hands to carry Josh’s kayak while he carried yours. You watched him as he shifted the weight of it over his head as he walked, watching the taut muscles of his arms as he did so.

Once you had all made it to where the cars were parked, the boys began securing everyone’s kayaks and paddles for the trip back home. Just as soon as they started on the first one though, you heard a monotonous rustling of the leaves in the woods around you. As the sound grew louder, you realized that it was rain, and that it was moving in a lot quicker than any of you had anticipated.

When it reached the lot of you, it was falling from the sky in a steady, but extremely heavy downpour. They boys made quick work of the rest of the kayaks, and before you knew it, you were all in your cars waving goodbye to each other behind tinted glass.

You were in Josh’s Jeep truck, shivering in the passenger seat as his hands moved swiftly over the temperature controls, doing his best to warm you up as quickly as he could.

As the shock of the cold rain wore off, you looked over at him and had to fight to keep your jaw from hanging slack. The usually puffy curls of his mullet sat closer to his head now in dripping ringlets. The water from his hair dripped onto his forehead and you watched the droplets make paths down the bridge of his nose to its tip before collecting together and dropping off, only to be caught by the pointed crests of his lips. The rest of his face glistened from being directly hit by the rain outside. You let your eyes travel down his neck which also glistened in what was left of the dim daylight to his shirt that was completely soaked through. You’d never thought anything of the fact that he practically lived in white shirts until now, and you couldn’t say you were disappointed in his color choice. You could see the curves of the muscles in his chest, more prominent now because of the cotton fabric that clung to his chilled skin. You wanted nothing more than to peel off his shirt and run your hands over his body; just to bask in him.

The thoughts running through your mind sent pangs of anxiety straight to your stomach. You’d never felt a yearning this strong for anyone you’d been with, but the fear of what he would say or how he would react to the fact that you were still a virgin overpowered your need for him.

You sat in the passenger side of his truck fighting an internal battle between reality and what you wanted with every fiber of your being. Your mind talked itself in circles the majority of the way back to his house. As he pulled into the driveway, you wondered what sort of thoughts were running through his mind.

At some point on the drive to his house, the rain had stopped, but you didn’t notice until the truck was shifted into park. Josh got out and came around to open your door for you. After he opened it, he paused, a grin spreading across his still-shiny face; his teeth shining in the light of the moon while the darkness hid most of the rest of his features.

“Come on, mama. Let’s get you warm and dry, huh?”

He offered his hand to you, and you took it, following him up the front steps to the door. As soon as the two of you were inside, Josh went on a hunt for towels and washcloths. He emerged from the hall with bath linens in one arm and a sweatshirt and a pair of boxer shorts in the other. His hair had started to dry, but the same couldn’t be said for his clothes.

“Here. I thought you might wanna take a hot shower to warm up, and I can dry your clothes for you if you want.” His brown eyes were sap-sweet and sparkling at you, his lips tilting up and a small smile.

“I’d love that so much,” you said quietly. “You’re the sweetest.” He handed you the towels and clothes, and you padded off to the bathroom.

Once you’d stripped off your wet clothes, you turned the water as hot as it would go, and you stepped inside. The air immediately felt thick from the dense moisture of the scalding water, and you welcomed it into your lungs, letting the water consume you entirely.

You heard the door of the bathroom creak, and you froze, naked and hot, under the shower head. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Josh’s shadow through the thick plastic and second decorative shower curtains. His figure paused for a moment before picking up your pile of wet clothes and leaving the bathroom to toss them in the dryer.

Your heart beat faster the more you thought about the way he paused a moment before. You let your mind drift into what could have happened. He could have waited there. Waiting for you. You could have opened the shower curtain, wordlessly inviting him in. You could have had him right there if you had just done it. Just ripped off the band aid and opened that shower curtain. But you couldn’t. You were scared. Of what, you had no idea.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After your shower, you towel-dried your hair and ran your fingers through it to get out the tangles. You slipped on the sweatshirt and boxer shorts he gave you, feeling apprehensive about not having any underwear while they tumbled in the dryer with the rest of your clothes. A heavy scent of sandalwood and patchouli wafted into your nose and made your chest feel warm. You took a deep breath, pushing your nerves as far down as possible before exiting the bathroom and walking up the hall to find Josh flipping through movies on TV.

“How do you feel?” he asked, “Warmer?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile before plopping yourself down beside him on the couch. He leaned back, one hand resting on the top of your thigh while he looked at you.

You watched his fingertips gently draw circles on your freshly warmed skin while his eyes trailed over your entire body, his lips turning up into another soft grin.

“What?” you asked, a smile spreading across your own lips in return.

His dark eyes flicked up to your face and he huffed a bit of air through his nose before he spoke, “I just really like the way you look in my underwear.”

You both giggled and you replied, “Well I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

He gave your thigh a little squeeze before moving his hand further up your leg. “I mean, there’s always another option,” he said, giving you an exaggerated look.

You rolled your eyes and grinned as he shifted next to you.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he asked, focusing back on your leg.

“Mhm.”

“What were you thinking about on the way home?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you’re usually never quiet like that. I figured something was going on. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You paused, wanting to tell him that your were fine, but the images of him sitting soaking wet beside you in the truck and standing in the bathroom, coupled with figmented images of him between your legs and pressed against your chest flashed through your mind, and you found yourself speaking without realizing what you were saying.

You noticed that your breath felt heavy as you tried to stop the river of words that flowed from your mouth.

“I just want- I- I don’t know how to-.” You stumbled and tripped through fragments of thoughts.

You immediately felt his hands gently holding the sides of your face, his eyes warm and welcoming to you as he spoke, coaxing you to speak through your fear. “Tell me, sweet baby,” he purred, “What do you want?”

You swallowed hard. “You.”

His thumbs swept across the crests of your cheekbones. “You’ve already got me, baby.”

“No. Not- not like that,” you said, your voice moving into a whisper.

His lips sat parted as he processed what you were telling him. After a moment, he spoke. “How come you didn’t say anything before?”

“Because I’m fucking scared,” you said, an unintentional chuckle escaping mid-word.

“Of me?”

“No,” you started, the word a little more exaggerated than you meant for it to be, “not like you’d do something to me, I was just nervous to tell you that-.” You watched his brow furrow as he tilted his head, anxiously waiting for you to finish your sentence. “That I’ve never- I’m-.”

Every single feature of his face softened and you could have sworn you could see a tear or two in his eyes. His hands slid up your cheeks as he rested his thumbs against your temples with his other fingers in your hair, and he pulled you to his mouth in a needy kiss. He completely enveloped your bottom lip, lightly sucking it further into his mouth before he ran his tongue along its edge. His hands slightly tightened in your hair, gently pulling on the roots, making you shift against him, wanting more.

You slipped your arms around his neck and moved to sit in his lap, a knee on either side of his hips. He pulled you closer, taking a hand from your hair and smoothing it over your back as he artfully slipped his tongue between your parted lips. He continued with his tongue until you broke the kiss, pulling back from his mouth and taking a big breath.

His eyes stayed trained on you the entire time as you heaved against him. He leaned back up into you and touched the tip of his nose to yours.

“You’re sure you want this?” he panted, his voice thick and raspy.

“Yes,” you breathed back, your hands resting on the waistband of his sweatpants.

You felt his arms wrap around you and scoop you up, walking you down the hall to the master bedroom.

He carefully sat you on the end of the bed, and you quickly found his waistband again. You could see the bulge in his sweatpants from where his cock was pressed against the thick fabric. You swallowed hard as you hooked your fingers around the band and pulled down, watching the tip of his solid cock hit his lower stomach.

You felt a warm sensation spread between your legs as you marveled at him, noting the pronounced indentations of his hips and the length and girth of his cock. You squeezed your legs together as thoughts of how deep inside you he would be able to reach filled your head, making your pussy throb just by the sight of him. “Fuck,” you muttered, barely audible.

He gingerly tilted your head up to look at him. “What’s wrong, mama?”

“Nothing,” you said, swallowing hard again, “you’re j-just really f-fucking big. What- what do we do if it doesn’t fit?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and but down on it softly, unsuccessfully hiding a smug grin. “It’ll fit. I promise.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, dramatically glancing from his face, down to his cock, and back up again.

His hands reached down and held your hips, swiftly lifting them up, laying you out on your back. You yelped at the quick movement and propped yourself up on your elbows. Josh hooked his fingers into the waistband of the boxer shorts you were wearing, his eyes trained on yours, waiting.

Your eyes widened, not sure of what was happening. He bent down and placed an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach before lifting his head just enough to be able to look up at you. You moaned at the sight of his soft brown eyes looking at you from between your legs; a sight that had been plaguing your mind for some time. He looked even more beautiful doing it in real life than you could have ever imagined.

“Lemme get you ready, mama. Let you cum in my mouth so you can get a taste for it? Hm? Lemme get a taste for you at the same time?” He punctuated his last question with a series of sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs.

“Oh my God, Josh,” you breathed.

“Can I take that as a ‘yes?’”

“Yes.”

He immediately tugged the boxers down your legs and tossed them into the floor. He stooped down to stand on his knees in front of you, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed again. He gently laid your legs over his shoulders and leaned in close enough for you to feel his breath on your heat. He paused there, his big brown eyes locking with yours again. “Listen close,” he started, “You want me to stop at any time, you stop me, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes wide again.

“Promise me, mama.”

“I promise.”

[coralinnii]

If you’re a villain, then let me be your accomplice

feat: Kalim genre: romance note: sequel to "being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy", short mentions of d*ath, shorts mentions of small cuts and blood, roughly 1.4k words

series masterlist

Ever since the arrest of the traitorous family member, most of your worries dissipated and you’re able to focus on things that don't include your imminent death. Due to your interference, the story has changed somewhat and now you’re wondering how you could bring it back on track. 

Aside from your young death, the story was a classic "prince and the pauper" story where Kalim, the male lead, met a poor woman who was an assistant to a doctor that was called as the family’s last desperate attempt to cure their son. The two of them were to fall in love and fight through the battle against social classes to be together. 

You could imagine Kalim being the type to love regardless of background. Even with you, a mere servant, he showed such care and gentleness that left you flustered and in awe of this man’s heart. So, in order to help achieve his happy ending, you started to plan how to create the fated encounter. 

Admittedly, you had your own hidden agenda as well. You had enough awareness that you were starting to get too comfortable in the sweet man’s presence. The scarlet-eyed heir was easy to love and if this were to go on any further, you fear your feelings will reach a point of no return. 

You ignored your younger brother's insistence that the rich heir shared your feelings

“He likes you, everyone can see it!” 

“Master Kalim is kind to everyone, that’s just how he is” 

You had to bury such hopes. 

So, you have to act fast before your foolish heart does something you would regret. You have secretly investigated the clinics and doctors in the town in search of one with a particular staff member. And once you did, you got into action. 

Kalim was surprised to hear you suggest a stroll around the village market. Usually he would be the one to initiate such an adventure but he immediately agreed, excited to go down into town with you.

On the day of the town visit, Kalim was on cloud nine. He happily strolled down the streets of the village, gazing at the crafts and dishes the stalls have to offer. He swung his hands that was clasped with yours, as you decided leaving him to wander un-tethered is not a good idea (you had such a scolding from Jamil last time). 

Recognizing the route the two of you were on, you knew the clinic of the doctor (and the assistant) were nearby so you initiated your plan. 

You saw a wooden stall in your path. Gritting your teeth, you pretended to trip and harshly slammed your arm against the side of the stall, causing a fairly nasty wound on your arm. 

Kalim yelled out in shock, quickly reaching your arm to cradle it in his hands. His ruby eyes looked like it was brimming with tears, ready to cry at your misfortune. He hurriedly asked the stall owner if there was a doctor nearby and to your luck, you two were told of the clinic, the one you planned for. 

What you didn’t plan was for Kalim to suddenly crouch down and  effortlessly scoop you up off your feet, craddling you as he swiftly moved between the crowd. His tan arms felt so secure around you that you never felt safer than here in his arms. You never questioned his physical strength but this was not something you ever expected of him.

“Master Kalim, I can walk!” 

“This is faster!” 

Finally, the two of you reached the clinic, and you two faced the doctor’s assistant who saw a flustered you with a bleeding arm, and a crazed nobleman in cold sweat. You had to physically stop Kalim from frantically screaming to the doctor as though you were dying. Dying from embarrassment, maybe. 

You made sure to time your appointment when the doctor was out to buy supplies leaving the assistant, Kalim's love interest, to meet you and Kalim. Now, you expect for sparks to fly and hearts to beat faster the moment they look into each other’s eyes. 

If the love interest would actually look at Kalim, that is! 

“Thankfully, it wasn't too deep so you’ll be alright” the assistant smiled once she ties the end of your bandage. You give your thanks, testing the tightness of the gauze on your arm. 

“Thanks so much, doctor!” Kalim exclaimed, tears in his eyes as he held your injured arm gently. From an outside perspective, someone would assume the noble heir was the injured patient with the way he treats your injury like his own. He looks to the love interest and smiled graciously. “What more could I do to repay you?” 

But the woman quickly turns to avoid his gaze. “It’s nothing. I’m just did what I can” 

“Still, I’m grateful!” he grined in gratitude before refocusing his attention to you. “Are you ok? Do you need anything?” 

You smiled before you could stop yourself and shook your head. “I’m perfectly fine. You worry for nothing” 

“But you lost some blood, you should re-hydrate to make up for it. I’ll get something to drink!” 

“Master Kalim, that’s unnecessary… he’s gone” a sigh left your lips when you saw Kalim rush out in a flash. You worry that he might tackle down someone at that speed. 

At least this gives you time with the assistant and Kalim’s fated one. You put on a smile before speaking

“My master is a very kind man, isn’t he?” you started off. 

“He is… a good person, yes” the woman responded back, but the tenseness in her tone is noticeable. 

“He’s definitely the type to treat his partner very well” you paused before frantically correcting yourself “Not that he has one right now! He’s very much single, not that there’s a reason for that! It’s just he hasn't found interest in anyone, but he’s not averse to relationships, not at all!” 

Mortified by your fumbling words, you prayed that Kalim’s to-be is not too turned off. You nervously watched her and waited for any sort of comments or thoughts. 

“Look,” the woman sighed, “Sir Kalim seems like a great person and I’m sure anyone would feel loved with a man like him” 

“Yes, yes! You understand!” 

“But,” she cut your thoughts off. “The Asim family is the center of the world of nobility, an environment that commoners such as you or me can’t possibly survive in. The members of that society themselves cannot live in peace” 

Her words and tone…they speak of a truth you were well aware of as both the servant living in that society and as a reincarnator that foresaw the difficulties the Asim family will face. The way she speaks is as though she faced these struggles herself but that couldn’t be, this character was written with a background of common ancestry. 

“It couldn’t be…Is it possible that she may be…” 

“No man is worth the struggles, not even Kalim of the esteemed Asim family” 

“You’re wrong!” 

You screamed, jumping from your seat without a second thought. It was true how cruel the noble society was, to both born and associated with it. You knew the stories of manipulation, betrayal, and bloodshed and your soul quivers in fear that someone may do away with you at any moment. 

You knew it all to be true, but still! 

“Master Kalim is worth any adversity, always!” you spoke fervently, your voice the loudest it’s ever been the entire day. “He is so kind, much kinder than anyone I have ever met or will ever meet. His smile lights up the manor and warms his people like rays of the morning sun. He watches over all of his siblings with such affection, never complaining even when he’s tired. He treats everyone with respect regardless of our class or race, and he’s so forgiving and supportive of the new servants. No hardship is too much if it’s for him!” 

Your breath ran ragged, your body taking its time to calm down after shaking from your indignation. No matter how many lives you end up going through, you're confident that Kalim was the kindest man in all reality, and such a man is definitely worth struggling for.

The love interest stood in her spot, silent with wide eyes as she watched you pour out your dedication. 

But she wasn’t the only one surprised by you. 

Behind the closed door was Kalim, with one hand that hovered above the doorknob while the other held a large pitcher of water he bought from a nearby restaurant. Kalim turned speechless, a rarity for him. He could feel and hear his heart beating hard against his chest, his face and ears burning despite being shaded from the harsh noon heat. He’s not a stranger to compliments since his family and servants are quick to praise him but how is it that yours seem to resonate so deeply into his soul, your words felt like it was being tattooed onto his racing heart? 

Kalim is always happy when he’s with you, but this time his happiness feels so different. He didn’t understand the feeling of joy spreading throughout in his body but he doesn’t hate it, not at all. 

“What’s happening to me?” 

[monetizeme]

Proton, the secure-minded email and productivity suite, is becoming a nonprofit foundation, but it doesn't want you to think about it in the way you think about other notable privacy and web foundations.

"We believe that if we want to bring about large-scale change, Proton can’t be billionaire-subsidized (like Signal), Google-subsidized (like Mozilla), government-subsidized (like Tor), donation-subsidized (like Wikipedia), or even speculation-subsidized (like the plethora of crypto “foundations”)," Proton CEO Andy Yen wrote in a blog post announcing the transition. "Instead, Proton must have a profitable and healthy business at its core."

The announcement comes exactly 10 years to the day after a crowdfunding campaign saw 10,000 people give more than $500,000 to launch Proton Mail. To make it happen, Yen, along with co-founder Jason Stockman and first employee Dingchao Lu, endowed the Proton Foundation with some of their shares. The Proton Foundation is now the primary shareholder of the business Proton, which Yen states will "make irrevocable our wish that Proton remains in perpetuity an organization that places people ahead of profits." Among other members of the Foundation's board is Sir Tim Berners-Lee, inventor of HTML, HTTP, and almost everything else about the web.

Of particular importance is where Proton and the Proton Foundation are located: Switzerland. As Yen noted, Swiss foundations do not have shareholders and are instead obligated to act "in accordance with the purpose for which they were established." While the for-profit entity Proton AG can still do things like offer stock options to recruits and even raise its own capital on private markets, the Foundation serves as a backstop against moving too far from Proton's founding mission, Yen wrote.

There’s a lot more Proton to protect these days

Proton has gone from a single email offering to a wide range of services, many of which specifically target the often invasive offerings of other companies (read, mostly: Google). You can now take your cloud files, passwords, and calendars over to Proton and use its VPN services, most of which offer end-to-end encryption and open source core software hosted in Switzerland, with its notably strong privacy laws.

None of that guarantees that a Swiss court can't compel some forms of compliance from Proton, as happened in 2021. But compared to most service providers, Proton offers a far clearer and easier-to-grasp privacy model: It can't see your stuff, and it only makes money from subscriptions.

[pejite]

Despite the numerous challenges they faced on the farm, Wilhelmina was making a concerted effort to spend more time with her daughters. She felt a deep sense of guilt for having neglected them during those dark weeks when she had been confined to her bedroom, overwhelmed by grief. Now, she was determined to make up for lost time.

On this particular day, they were preparing to leave the house when a letter arrived from Mary Elizabeth. In it, she offered her heartfelt condolences and shared the sobering news that things in the city were just as dire, if not worse, than in the countryside. In London, she explained, it had become increasingly difficult to find good food due to the famine brought on by the unrelenting rains and the subsequent plagues.

Wilhelmina sighed as she set the letter down on the side table near the writing desk. She felt a wave of concern wash over her as she thought about the hardships her dear friend was enduring. But there was little she could do from afar, and so, trying to shake off the heaviness that threatened to settle in her heart, she gathered her daughters and stepped outside. They were headed to the church and the market, hoping to find something worthwhile to buy, though their expectations were low.

As they approached the church, they encountered Cora and her daughters walking in the opposite direction. Cora greeted her warmly and expressed her condolences with genuine sympathy. However, she quickly shifted the conversation, not wanting to dwell on the sadness that had been clouding Wilhelmina’s life. "We’ve just been to see the new school, they’ve finally finished building it. Have you had a chance to take a look yet?" she asked, her tone brightening.

Wilhelmina shook her head, feeling a pang of surprise. She hadn’t even realised that the construction had begun, let alone that it was already complete. “But… surely the fees will be expensive, won’t they? With everything being so uncertain right now, I’m not sure we could manage the cost of enrolling the children” she said, her voice tinged with anxiety. The thought of another expense, especially in these troubled times, felt overwhelming.

Cora, however, seemed unfazed. She waved her hand dismissively, a smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t you remember? I mentioned it’s one of those charity schools, it’s free” she explained with a reassuring nod. As the mothers spoke, their daughters lingered nearby, chatting and playing, their laughter a gentle reminder of the innocence that still existed despite the hardships surrounding them “They say the school will open as soon as they can secure enough teachers. Perhaps by winter” Cora added.

Wilhelmina nodded, trying to absorb this new information. They continued their conversation for a while longer, discussing the usual topics, family, the weather, the latest village news, before parting ways. Yet, throughout the rest of the day, Wilhelmina couldn’t stop her mind from returning to the matter of the school.

As they made their way to the market, Wilhelmina found herself mulling over the possibilities that an education could offer her children. The farm had always been their livelihood, but the recent challenges, the relentless rain, the failed crops, the looming threat of winter, had shaken her confidence in the future. Perhaps, she thought, if her children could gain an education, they might have opportunities beyond the farm, opportunities that were not so dependent on the whims of nature.

But even as the thought took shape, Wilhelmina felt a pang of guilt. The farm had been in Edwin’s family for generations, and there was a strong sense of duty tied to the land. Was it right to consider steering her children away from the life that had sustained their family for so long? And yet, the uncertainty of farming, particularly in these troubled times, made her question whether it was fair to expect her children to follow in their footsteps without giving them the chance to explore other paths.

[feyhunter78]

Trial of Tributes (10/?)

Description: Aemond brings up someone from your past, and you have your first encounter with his sister.

Series masterlist

You stiffed, your grip on Aemond tightening. “We never—he never touched me, My King, you must believe me.”

How did he find out about Vahgn? You were so careful.

He hummed in response, hand still trailing up and down your back.

“I did not even like him, he scared me, he attempted to come in through my window, I was so frightened when I found out.” You said, pushing yourself somehow closer to him, praying he would believe you.

Aemond was kinder, more forgiving when you were wrapped in his arms, and you intended to make use of that.

“I believe you, issa ābrazȳrys.” He said, his soft voice wrapping around you like a warm blanket, all but a small seed of fear melting away.

You looked up at him, tears pricking the back of your eyes. “I am yours Aemond, no one else has ever or will ever touch me.”

He hummed again, a low tone of satisfaction.

“Might we return to our chambers? I am a bit famished.” You admitted, still clinging to him.

Aemond nodded, and you slipped from his lap, adjusting your dress as best you could, looking at the snapped laces in despair.

“I will buy you a new gown.” He said simply, offering you his arm.

You walked in companionable silence, trying to keep the concerned look off your face.

Vahgn was the only man you had ever been alone with. You both were mere children at the time, before your mother had died, and your father deemed all men to be a danger to your virtue.

He was kind, and you spoke about your favorite books and sweets available at the market. Nothing had ever happened, you were always too nervous to bring shame upon your family, but that didn’t stop young you from dreaming. Or from Vaghn’s feelings developing.

Unfortunately, Vahgn hadn’t taken your father’s orders well. He became obsessive, pacing outside your window at all hours, begging you to run away with him. You told him no, sent letters trying to dissuade him, to encourage him to find someone else, but it never worked, it only seemed to fuel his fire.

Despite his odd behavior you still held affections for him. He was a close friend for many years, and you knew if Aemond was to know the truth…you had not yet seen the might of Vhagar and you did not wish to.

A shiver of fear ran through you, and Aemond unclasped her cloak, draping it around you. “It was foolish of me to tear your gown; the halls of the Keep grow quite cold in the winter.”

You glanced out the window, the first signs of winter were upon King’s Landing. Winds buffeted the windows, and snowflakes swirled down from the thick clouds. The sky was a dreary gray, and the guards you could see had donned thicker cloaks as they patrolled the Keep.

“My home has always remains largely untouched by winter; I must admit I am ill prepared.” You pulled your gaze away from the window and to your husband.

Aemond stood tall, his arms behind his back, his tunic made of a green and gold brocade was meant to match your own gown, a thing of beauty that was now covered by his black cloak.

“I shall speak with my mother about acquiring you the proper winter wardrobe.” He said, opening the door to your shared quarters for you.

You entered and ducked behind the changing screen in order to shed yourself of your ruined clothing. While you were out of Aemond’s eyesight, you let out a silent, shaky breath. You needed to remain calm, Vhagn was gone, Aemond believed your words, and you were safe.

You repeated those words in your mind as you changed and emerged to see Aemond reading quietly, a platter of assorted finger foods on the table. “Would you mind?” You turned and motioned to the laces of your dress.

Aemond swiftly tightened and secured the laces, fingers splaying on your ribs, his head ducked low to whisper in your ear. “You would never lie to me, would you, y/n?”

Your heart was racing, pounding against your chest, and you feared he could hear it. Aemond rarely called you solely by your name, there was always a lady , my, or sweet in front of it.

You turned in his arms, cupping his face, your thumb caressing the raised skin of his scar. “Of course not, you are my husband.”

Aemond’s good eye fluttered shut, and he leaned into your touch. “That I am.”

He said no more on the subject and bid you to eat, which you did, grateful the matter seemed to be dropped.

A few weeks later you sat in front of the fire, a stack of book the Queen Mother had suggested you read in order to help you step into the role of queen, beside you. You had a basic education, you could read and write, but you were never taught much past running a household, or other womanly duties , and you were cursing your father for his lack of foresight.

A knock at the door caught your attention, and you hurried to answer it, grateful for the excuse to put the headache inducing books away.

In the doorway stood a woman with flowing silver hair and lavender eyes. She was clutching a small silver haired girl to her side. This must be Princess Helaena, and her daughter Jaehaera, you realized, taking in the obviously Targaryen features they shared.

“Oh, I was looking for Aemond.” Helaena said, her voice soft and dreamlike.

You stepped back and opened the door wider for them. “He has been called away but will hopefully return soon, if you wished to wait for him?”

Helaena seemed hesitant.

“I would not mind the company, I hate being alone, and I have sweets for the little one.” You added, giving Jaehaera a small smile.

She hid her face in her mother’s skirts, but Helaena gave you a small smile of her own. “We will wait a little while.”

You let them in and shut the door behind them, pulling out the candies you had brought from home and laying them out on a nearby plate. “Please enjoy, they’re a popular favorite among the children of my home.”

Jaehaera looked at her mother who urged her to take one.

“He is overseeing reconstruction of the dragonpit.” You said, feeling awkward as the mother-daughter pair stood in silence.

“Yes, I have been asked for my input, but have been unable to visit.” Helaena said, her eyes flickering to the fireplace.

“Would you like to take a seat?” You motioned to the chairs nearest the fire.

Jaehaera took another candy from the platter and looked at her mother.

“Aem—the king has made sure there are no…unseen entrances, if that is what worries you.” You said softly.

Aemond had told you of the cold-blooded killing of Helaena’s children, how they sprung up from secret passages throughout the Keep and drenched the floor of the Queen Mother’s chambers in innocent blood.

The idea of it, of your own children being killed in front of you, made you sick to your stomach.

Helaena stiffened and Jaehaera seemed to be holding her breath.

“I—I am so sorry, I did not mean to stir up such memories, forgive me.” You said quickly, burying your hands in your skirts. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Then the moment passed and Helaena reached for a candy before she sat in the chair nearest the fire, her eyes falling on the books that still lay nearby. “You are studying?”

You hurried over and began to clean them up. Surely, she would go to Aemond and tell him how horrid of a hostess you were after such terrible blunders twice in a row. “Yes, the Queen Mother suggested them to me, I wish to be a better help to the king, and the realm.”

“Does Aemond tell you to address him by his title?” She asked, her eyes were soft but had a wariness about them that set you on edge.

“No, he actually quite prefers I use his name, or call him husband, but I know it is not proper outside our chambers.”

“We are in your chambers now.” Helaena said simply, as if the rules of court society had no meaning to her.

You tucked away the books, then sat as well. “I suppose you are right.”

“I like Uncle Aemond.” Jaehaera said, her voice soft like her mother’s.

“I do as well, he is very kind.” You told her, giving her a smile. It pained you to see such a dour look on a child so young.

Jaehaera didn’t return your smile, but the tension in her shoulders lessened, and it reminded you of something.

“Oh, I nearly forgot. Aemond had this made for Jaehaera.” You got up and found the small wooden cat. Aemond had been debating whether to present his niece with a small dragon toy, seeing as her own dragon had been killed in the smallfolks’ revolt.

He voiced his misgiving to you, and you suggested another animal. During your time spent in the gardens, you noticed that Jaehaera seemed to have befriended a stray cat. She would speak softly to it, and bring it small bits of food.

You handed the toy, one you had spent time painting to match the coloring of the stray, to her. “Here, take this with the apologies of your uncle that he could not be here to gift it to you himself.”

“Sun-shed fields and panes of glass, the flower blooms, and the dice are cast.” Helaena mumbled, fidgeting with the embroidery on her sleeves.

“Beg pardon?” You looked at Helaena, hand still outstretched to Jaehaera.

“A kitty!” Jaehaera squealed happily, taking both you and Helaena aback, as she held it up to her eyes, a smile spreading across her face.

“A cat?” Helaena asked, shifting towards her daughter. “I would have thought that perhaps…”

“I must admit I noticed Princess Jaehaera’s newest friend in the garden and made mention of it to Aemond. But it was all his idea.”

Helaena gave you a soft smile. “That is very kind of you.”

You returned her smile and sat back in your seat. “It is nothing, truly.”

“You are much more observant than they say.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Aemon had warned you that his sister could be quite blunt, and that it was never with an ill intent, her mind was simply different from most others, and often times the rules of polite society did now fall upon her. “Thank you?”

Helaena looked at you with those strangely piercing eyes. “Did any of your kin fight in the war of succession?”

“My youngest brother.” Your mind flittered to Tobias, he stood to inherit nothing and threw himself into the ranks, proclaiming he would defend King Aegon II’s throne, and be greatly rewarded.

Helaena nodded, watching as Jaehaera made her toy cat walk up and down the leg of her chair. “Did he live?”

“No, he died by dragonfire I am told, from the Rouge Prince’s dragon.” You were not particularly close to your brother, but a rage burned within you at the news of his death. The Rouge Prince was careless, he massacred innocent villages for information and did not grieve.

“My apologies.” Helaena said.

You shook your head. “It is in the past, and many of my kin still live.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot, @the-phantom-of-arda, @haydee5010, @partypoison00, @serrhaewin, @issshhh, @pax-2735, @malfoytargaryen, @sahanna, @dellalyra, @mxrgodsstuff, @jkhomes, @unusual-raccoon, @boofy1998, @kravitzwhore, @caribbeangel, @krispold, @issshh, @afro-hispwriter, @ryswritingrecord, @prettykinkysoul, @elissanatok, @sahvlren, @its-sam-allgood, @happinessinthbeing, @8e-h-e8, @feyres-fireheart, @just-emmaaaa, @crazylokonugget, @hedahobbit98, @devils-blackrose, @mercedesdecorazon, @snh96, @imjustboredso, @izzicle, @hiatuswhore, @aslanvez, @devils-blackrose, @yentroucnagol, @queenofshinigamis, @partyposion00, @cryptidsrcool

[mostlysignssomeportents]

After Ohio rail disaster, Buttigieg is silent on restoring the safety standards Trump repealed

When a freight train carrying toxic chemicals derailed near East Palestine, Ohio, bursting into flame and sending up clouds of poisonous vinyl chloride smoke and gas, our immediate concerns were for the people in harm’s way and the train crew:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/02/04/us/train-derailment-fire-palestine-ohio.html

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/11/dinah-wont-you-blow/#ecp

But those immediate concerns were soon joined by a broader set of worries: that the entire rail industry presented a systematic danger, and the Ohio derailment was a symptom of a much deeper pathology that endangered anyone who lives near one of the rail corridors that crisscross America.

The rail industry is the poster child for corporate power, and rail barons were among the first targets of Gilded Age trustbusters who saw the rail monopolies as a threat to the prosperity and wellbeing of Americans, as well as the integrity of the American political system itself.

40 years of neoliberal “consumer welfare” antitrust — starting with Reagan and continuing through every administration since — has seen the American rail sector achieve levels of concentration that meet and exceed the corrupt, untenable degree of the late 19th century.

Like the original rail barons, the current crop (including the self-styled cuddly billionaire Warren Buffett), have gutted rail investment, skirted on safety, maimed and abused their workforce, smashed their unions, and placed the entire US supply chain in a state of brittle precarity:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/04/up-your-nose/#rail-barons

Like all monopolists, the rail industry has been able to capture its regulators, trampling evidence-based policy and replacing it with rules that benefit shareholders at the expense of the public, labor, and customers.

https://doctorow.medium.com/regulatory-capture-59b2013e2526

This regulatory capture is an inevitable consequence of market concentration. When an industry is composed of dozens of small- and medium-sized firms, they are unable to converge on a single story about which rules regulators should favor them with: some of those companies will want things the others don’t, and each will vie to produce evidence disconfirming the others’ claims.

But when an industry dwindles to a handful of cozy giants whose C-suites are stuffed with company-hopping executives who’ve done time at every major company in the sector, they converge on a single fairy tale about the best way to regulate their industry, and convert their regulators’ truth-seeking exercises into rigged auctions that they handily win:

https://locusmag.com/2022/03/cory-doctorow-vertically-challenged/

That’s what happened during the Trump years, when rail lobbyists secured the repeal of a long-overdue, hard-won safety regulation that would have required rail companies to replace the Civil-War-era brakes on their rolling stock with modern electronically controlled pneumatic brakes (ECPs):

https://jacobin.com/2023/02/rail-companies-safety-rules-ohio-derailment-brake-sytems-regulations

The repeal cost millions in lobbying dollars, but it was worth it. Shortly after the ECP rule was scrapped, Norfolk Southern handed millions in bonuses to its execs and did billions in stock buybacks, while laying offf thousands of workers:

https://www.fool.com/investing/2018/10/25/norfolk-southern-implements-massive-buyback-progra.aspx

Elections, we’re told, have consequences. After Biden won the 2020 presidential election, he made a string of excellent appointments — people like FTC chair Lina Khan, who hit the ground running with detailed plans for making sweeping, consequential changes that would blunt corporate power, reverse-Trump era abuses, and correct the dysfunctions that created a political base for Trump:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

But other Biden appointees arrive in office with much less ambition. Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg has spent his tenure as King Log, failing to take action on spiraling airline cancellations, confining his major enforcement action to fining foreign airlines while ignoring the out-of-control abuses of America’s domestic carriers, except for the also-ran airline Frontier, which accounts for less than 2% of domestic travel:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/16/for-petes-sake/#unfair-and-deceptive

There are striking similarities between the structural defects in the airlines and the rail companies: both are highly concentrated sectors who have laid off senior staff, attacked unions, and blown billions in public money on stock buybacks and executive bonuses, even as their service degraded.

Both industries have been sharply criticized by experts and industry veterans, who’ve called for specific regulation. In the case of the airlines, SWA pilots and flight attendants had sounded the alarm about antiquated scheduling systems; for the rail companies, it’s experts like Grady Cothen, formerly a top safety expert at the Federal Railroad Administration (FRA), who told Congress that without action on braking systems, “[there] will be more derailments, more releases of hazardous materials, more communities impacted”:

https://www.congress.gov/event/117th-congress/house-event/LC69424/text?s=1&r=9

Despite these warnings, and despite the near-misses and smaller disasters that led up to the 100-foot-tall fireball over Ohio, Buttigieg’s DOT has not moved to reinstate the Obama-era brake safety rule, deferring to the monopoly rail owners self-serving claim that there is no need for such a move:

https://jacobin.com/2023/02/department-of-transportation-train-brake-regulation-ohio-derailment/

Indeed, the FRA is currently considering a rule that would further weaken braking rules, reducing obligations to inspect, test and certify braking systems:

https://www.regulations.gov/document/FRA-2019-0072-0005

The rail labor unions — the best source of independent expertise on the daily operation of the freight system — say that this would be a disaster: “Following through with a final rule would only deliver yet another financial windfall to rail carriers by eliminating inspections, testing and repairs, and deferring routine maintenance”:

https://www.goiam.org/news/territories/tcu-union/carmen-division-tcu/rail-labor-files-joint-comments-on-fras-nprm-2/

Serving as Transportation Secretary to the President of the United States of America makes you one of the most powerful people in the history of the human race. The Secretary’s powers, while not unlimited, are extensive. The American people need a DoT that works for them, not one that weakens safety rules:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

Image: Gage Skidmore (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Pete_Buttigieg_January_2020.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

James St John (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/jsjgeology/27110172823/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

This week (Feb 13–17), I’ll be in Australia, touring my book Chokepoint Capitalism with my co-author, Rebecca Giblin. We’re doing a remote event for NZ tomorrow (Feb 13). Next are Melbourne (Feb 14), Sydney (Feb 15) and Canberra (Feb 16/17). More tickets just released for Sydney!

[Image ID: A locomotive steaming away from a nuclear explosion. The face of the logo has been replaced with Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg's, in the style of Thomas the Tank Engine.]

[dark-elf-writes]

Any Naruto, Harry Potter, mha, or ff7 au idea knocking around that you want to share?

Have I been suspiciously quiet?

I mean yes, but am I causing concern?

Cloud that makes it to Midgar but ends up a bit… lost on the way and finds himself under the plate with barely any gil, a shit sword, and a gaggle of orphans following at his heels no matter how many times he tells them to go home.

It wasn’t like it had happened on purpose, he had been walking through sector five trying to scrounge up any work at all to buy a ticket up to the plate so he could finally apply for SOLDIER, when he heard the faintest sound of children screaming from down a tight alley that had he been any bigger he wouldn’t have been able to fit through.

He arrives in time to save the kids from a monster that broke in their hideout, breaking his first sword and grabbing a second from the towering piles of shit that were everywhere down here. The kids latch onto him immediately, all wide eyes and eager hands tugging him back to the Leaf House where they eagerly tell Ms. Folia all about their new hero.

She doesn’t look to convinced (he is little more than skin and bone if he’s being entirely honest, but Midgar was so expensive and it wasn’t like he could hunt here like he did back home) but she offers him one of the spare rooms for staff and a warm meal as thanks. She is convinced a few days later when she runs into him in the bustle of Wall Market taking out a pushy customer outside the Honeybee Inn before security could get to him.

He becomes something of a guard for Leaf House, often extending his services further to escort Aerith and Folia and even a few other sector five Honeybees. Their little guardian who starts to come into his strength as time passes.

It’s only a matter of time before the Turks following Aerith set their sights on him. He’s hard to miss walking at Aerith to the church, showing the kids how to defend themselves, going toe to toe with men twice his size on his escort trips, but what really deals the deal is when he notices them back.

No one saw a Turk that didnt want to be seen. Just like no one took on the Don’s men without fear. Just like no one looked after the lost and forgotten kids under the plate.

Now the Turks aren’t only trying to get Aerith to Shinra but Cloud as well.

Cloud isn’t entirely sure how he found himself as a potential Turk recruit with enough siblings (younger and older if the dancers and Aerith were to be believed) but he is sure that even if he were to write home about him no one would ever believe him.

[wphostzone]

What is Web Hosting? Discover Types, Key Factors, & 2024’s 12 Best Web Hosting Platforms.

Web hosting—the physical presence of your website on the internet—is essential for your online business. Without dependable web hosting, you jeopardize your capacity to run your business and meet your consumers’ expectations.

Understanding web hosting and how it works can be difficult, particularly for people who are unfamiliar with the notion. This article will clearly describe web hosting, explain the many types of web hosting plans available, and outline the essential factors to consider when selecting a hosting company.

What is web hosting?

Web hosting uses internet-facing hardware and software to provide web services to end users. It is where your website and services are stored, processed, and delivered.

At its most fundamental, web hosting consists of secure internet interfaces and communications, computer server hardware and storage, web server software, and content (text, pictures, audio/video).

However, most web hosting solutions also include database servers, content management systems, e-commerce tools, security and authentication, and other applications required for websites to function and remain secure.

The web hosting sector is critical and is expected to increase by more than 20% year between 2024 and 2028.

How much does web hosting cost?

Hosting charges vary, typically based on capabilities. You may pay $10 per month for a simple billboard-style website to market your business online, or much more if you run a successful e-commerce store with thousands of clients.

To successfully select web hosting that works for you, you simply need to understand your goals and how to translate them into hosting requirements.

Types of Web Hosting

Shared hosting.

Dedicated Hosting

VPS (Virtual Private Server) hosting

Cloud hosting

Continue Reading The Blog Post Click Here...

[ficbrish]

Waking Up With You Chapter 2

“Damn… is it time to go already?” [AO3]

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Tags: During Canon, POV Alternating, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Developing Relationship, Shameless Smut, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Some Humor, She falls first, He falls harder, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, First Kiss, First Time, Kissing, Bathing/Washing, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Fisting, Oral Sex, Ass to Mouth

[[TW/CW: Grief, smoking, alcohol, food, booty-eating, fisting, light dom/sub undertones]]

[Previous Chapter]

MacCready didn’t mention breakfast meant Diamond City. Renée had made the perilous trek between towns often enough by now to recognize their route after that first turn, but he still held onto their destination like it was a secret.

“We’re going to Diamond City, right?”

“You’ll see.”

Renée was so hungry by the time they got there she even started to regret passing up one of those super mutant grab bags on the way over. Sticking her hand into a pile of dismembered flesh, that had been lying on the floor for who knows how many days, and pulling out a bit of bloatfly would have been better than the pit of anger now festering in her belly.

MacCready looked so proud of himself standing in front of the noodle bar with his hands triumphantly placed on his hips. The light beaming through his expression made him seem as if he’d just gifted her the world.

Or maybe it was just the same shit-eating grin that refused to leave his face ever since this morning.

The robot spoke first, “Nan-ni shimasho-ka?”

“Yes! Two of them!” MacCready tossed his caps on the counter smoothly like a noir protagonist before his Icarus burn, “And stay nearby! Today we eat ‘till the lady’s had her fill.”

Renée settled onto one of the stools, “Oh, you dreamboat.”

He joined her with a tsk, tsk, “Better start showing some appreciation for my generosity, boss. I’ll unionize, you know.”

He looked up at her through the brim of his cap and her face flushed with sudden heat.

Two could play at that.

Renée gracefully reached for the side of his face. Her fingers gently wrapped around his ear, her thumb tracing along his jaw. The smugness left his eyes for something softer. He covered her hand in his.

“And how would you do that?” she purred, “You’re my only mercenary.”

MacCready took their hands off his cheek to rest them in his lap.

“I’ve got bargaining power,” he stated confidently, moving her hand slightly further up his thigh. He was subtle about it. No one saw. Her heart thudded as her palm brushed over that secret part of him.

Clouds of steam carrying the smell of hot noodles got placed under their noses.

They dug in without another word, slurping and swallowing without even tasting. Behind them some man started shouting at a security guard to stay away from his wife. Something like that usually immediately captured their attention, but the bustling market around them became a dull thrum to their senses. There were only noodles; they took over completely.

After all of about five minutes, half-satisfied and ready for a nap, Renée and MacCready sat back in their stools. The robot cleared their empty bowls.

“Noodles for breakfast?” she asked as they waited for another round.

“Well, it’s past noon, which makes this lunch. Perfect time for noodles.”

A gruff individual next to them in a green jacket and ratty cap interrupted the robot from its preparations, “They had some already! I’m next!”

They shared an amused look and a smirk. MacCready took his cigarettes out of his pocket and offered one to Renée, which she gladly accepted.

“You ever gonna get some of your own?” he asked, unlit cigarette dangling between his lips, “Or are you just gonna keep borrowing from me?”

She leaned in as he held out a flame for both of them.

Their faces hadn’t been this close since the walk over when he pulled her into an alley to steal a kiss. They smiled and blushed at the memory as they inhaled, and the sparked cherries cast a warm glow over their expressions.

He’d very obviously wanted the gesture in the alley to be spontaneous, but she’d known what was coming—he took the time to clear the area first. Now that Renée knew about Lucy, she could see her dreadful fate in every ounce of RJ’s thoroughness. She saw the strength of his affection in it as well. Words could never ring as sweet as the sight of his professional paranoia taken up a notch by her presence.

He’d tangled his fingers in her hair as he consumed her. It wasn’t wise to be so oblivious to the Wasteland around them. Having something precious to protect was the only reason they were able to pull away and keep going.

“Technically, all the cigarettes are mine,” Renée blew her smoke into the street, “I just make you carry them.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He took another drag and chuckled at the end of his exhale.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“This!” that ear-to-ear smile of his was back, “I mean, can you believe this?!”

Renée tried to hide her gleeful expression with another puff, but she wore the corners of her mouth as earrings just like he did.

Pre-war men only ever acted like this before they made it between your knees. Even Nate had tried to brush her off before she swallowed her pride and begged him to stay. It wasn’t about whether they cared for you, or how much. That’s just how men were.

Then that world ended.

“Oh, thanks!” RJ’s eyes grew wide as their second round of noodles got placed in front of them.

Renée tried to look at hers the same way he looked at his. Now that she wasn’t ravenous, the bowl in front of her had lost some of its appeal. It wasn’t the salve to her desperation anymore. It turned back into more strange food from this strange, new world.

Their hands touched as they put out their cigarettes in the ashtray between them. MacCready laced his fingers with hers and gave them a squeeze before he let go.

That feeling hadn’t changed since the bombs, that rush. Blood still boiled the same. Nerves still crackled like lightning.

Renée took a deep breath.

Maybe the lingering sourness would never go away. A pre-war relic, she would always be spoiled. She’d known the real Earth; RJ and most everyone else only knew Hell.

“This is shaping up to be the best day of my life,” MacCready said with a mouth full of noodles.

She slurped up some of hers through the steam. Renée couldn’t deny a certain comfort they brought. They were warm, hearty; and razorgrain added something exquisite that didn’t exist before.

Even taking their time, it wasn’t long before they were lighting cigarettes again over emptied bowls. RJ took hold of her hand and played with her fingers as they smoked.

“How long has it been since your last date?” He was absolutely smug about it.

“Is that what this is?”

“I didn’t ask you about this one. I asked you about the last one.”

She rolled her eyes, grinning, “Oh, you know. Over 220 years. But who’s counting?”

“No,” he chuckled, “That’s not what I meant. Before that stuff.”

“That stuff?” she laughed, “You mean the global, nuclear apocalypse and being cryogenically frozen?”

“Yeah.”

A cloud of smoke left her lips, “Do married dates count?”

“Of course they count!”

“Hmmmm… It was before we knew about Shaun. Actually… just a little before we found out. We went out to the drive-in.” She paused, laughing bitterly, “If I’d known that would be our last date—Hell, my very last trip to the movies!—I wouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

RJ’s face went a bit dark.

“Oh, fuck,” she realized, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about how—You know… Falling asleep and… and all that. Unless you weren’t even thinking about!—And now I’m bringing it up…”

He chuckled, “Hey, don’t worry about me. I can handle it, talking about what happened. Now that you know, I probably won’t stop talking about it. No, I was just thinking about how I—”

He thought for a moment and continued after a drag, “I understand it. That last day with Lucy… the two of us kept fighting. It was something really dumb; how my manners and language were a bad influence on Duncan, other small things I can’t really remember… Whether it was warm for the season! But really, it was just because we were hungry and tired.”

Renée nodded thoughtfully and ashed her cigarette, “Funny how that happens. It doesn’t matter how much you love someone. Eventually, everybody’s gotta sleep.”

Their laughter overtook all other sounds in the heart of the crowded marketplace. Their animated joy stuck out like radioactive material in the obsidian-black night, but no one turned their heads. The way their hands lightly rested on each other’s thighs marked their little sphere as too intimate to interrupt. Even catching a glance of the expressions in their eyes felt like a violation.

They lit another cigarette instead of ordering more noodles. MacCready pulled out a bottle of bourbon they’d found earlier from his pack to pass between them.

The sun started to dip before he leaned in and whispered, “Where can I get you alone?”

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

MacCready hadn’t been inside Renée’s Diamond City house since the night she bought it. The shack was an impulse purchase she’d immediately regretted, something Renée did just because she could. Just because she went from someone who lost everything to someone who could throw away 5,000 caps just to lighten her pockets, and she needed something tangible and external to prove how far she’d come.

It was a tomb then, packed with a dead man’s furniture. Their first steps into its threshold disturbed layers of dust like piles of snow. No one had been in there since its previous owner disappeared years ago. The mayor never bothered to have it cleaned before he sold it. Just like Kellog’s house, it sat locked and untouched.

Contained, locked, undisturbed; these all meant one thing—safety. After months of watching each other’s backs, they finally had security beyond themselves and each other; walls with locked doors that only they had the keys to, a solid roof, and Diamond City security outside. They also had two stories of space to spread out in and the chance to sleep alone. Renée stretched out on the dodgy bed. MacCready took the beat-up couch on the floor below.

All that space in the dark. Alone.

Renée called down for him pretty quickly, and MacCready went right to her side without any hesitation. Back-to-back again in the dead man’s bed, they were finally able to sleep that night.

Everything about today was different.

They crossed the threshold with their hearts in their throats, having come this time solely for the purpose of sharing the same bed and each other within it. The moment that the front door was shut, everything they’d ever held back was expressible, even promised.

“Oh, woah! You did all this? Since when?!”

Renée laughed it off, “It’s just a side project. Nick and Piper sometimes help out too.”

The house itself had transformed just as much as their intentions. The whole place was completely gutted and renewed.

“Just a side project,” he repeated, mocking her in awe. “It’s amazing!”

“Nah.”

MacCready took his hat off. Then he shook his head as if he had long, flowing hair instead of his short crop. He ran his fingers through it, scratching his scalp along the way.

Renée always watched him do that whenever they were about to settle in for the night. He did it reliably, like a signal marking their territory. It wasn’t a unique gesture. Plenty of people took their hats off in similar ways. It wasn’t even a sign that he was relaxed. His back rarely faced the door; his gun stayed nearby. Just something he did out of habit.

This time with an uncharacteristically huge smile on his face.

“You have lights! And art! And a kitchen! That’s a whole kitchen!”

Renée chuckled at the way his voice cracked with excitement, “Yes, it is. You know what else it has?”

“What?”

“Indoor plum—”

“INDOOR PLUMBING?!”

“And—”

“And?!”

She couldn’t help but match that smile of his, “Hot—”

“No!”

“—water.”

“Shut up! No!”

“Yes,” she laughed.

“You’re crazy!”

Still laughing, she unlaced her boots and asked him to do the same.

“We should shower,” she suggested as they lined up their shoes by the door.

“Oh, you had me at ‘hot water’!”

Renée led the way, stripping off her clothes and leaving them in a trail along the floor to be picked up later. Everything she took off, he took off too. Socks left their bodies first, then bits of armor. They were both topless by the time the faucet started running. Their pants were the last to go.

They hadn’t kissed since the alley, but that was remedied the moment their heads hit the flow of water. It was breathless, gasping. Their lips made chaos of time. They’d only crossed that line this morning, but the feeling was ancient like meeting again across lives. Every touch was the very first and the very last. They had so much to make up for.

“Gross!”

“Eeew!”

Streaks of dirt ran down their faces like mascara on a rough night.

Renée was horrified, “But we took baths yesterday!—Oh god!”

MacCready caught her train of thought from the panicked look in her eyes, “Relax. I would have tasted it on your neck. No, this has gotta be from all that fresh Boston air on the walk over.”

“The walk you insisted on us taking?”

“It got us here, didn’t it?”

Renée smiled, “Guess it was worth it.”

She positioned her face under the water, eyes shut tight against the flow. MacCready was glued to the way the water bounced off her cheekbones and ran down her lips. The dirt washed away, leaving her cool, brown skin rich and fresh. He never let himself really, truly see her before, and the sight of her now hit his heart like a view of the ocean.

“You’re—”

She shook her head, stepping out from under the faucet, “I’ve got facewash somewhere.”

MacCready stepped under the flow while Renée leaned half-out of the curtain.

“Codsworth made these,” she said while his eyes were still shut.

“Made what?” he asked, and the water rushed into his mouth, which he instinctively spat out.

“RJ!”

Laughing, he stepped out from the faucet and wiped the water off his pink face, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“You just spit all over me!”

“What did Codsworth make?” he asked, laughter still dying out.

“What didn’t he make? We’ve got facewash, soap, shampoo, and moisturizers for both the skin and hair.”

“Skin and hair?” he teased, “Ol’ Butler Bot’s been busy.”

“Yeah, well, after 220 years of waiting around, he’s picked up a new hobby or two.”

They took turns scrubbing and rinsing their faces with Codsworth’s cleanser. It had a refreshing minty quality to it that made them both astounded he’d ever been kicked out of a town. Robot or not, this was art. But such an outcome was also plain and predictable; bigotry was never based on anything real.

Renée grabbed the shampoo after putting the bottle of facewash away. It came in a solid bar like soap, and its creamy color nicely complimented the lighter skin under her hands. MacCready always found them unbelievably soft. No matter how many times they picked up a gun, the way they felt defied logic. Not that he had a lot of experience touching her hands. Not yet. The sight of them now possessed him with an impulse to tear that bar out of her grip and press her smooth palm against his face. Then kiss her fingers one by one.

“Bend down,” she told him.

He lowered his head, ready for anything. She ran her hands though his wet hair, lathering it.

“Oooh, that’s nice.”

Renée chuckled, “Have you ever had your hair washed before? I mean—By another person?”

“No. You?”

She nodded even though he couldn’t see it. Her hair, now thoroughly soaked through, bounced with loose, dripping curls.

“By my mother when I was a kid. And then every time I went to the salon,” she answered.

“God this feels good.”

“Not even before a cut?”

“Always cut my own hair. I even did Lucy and Duncan’s.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not!” she giggled.

When she took her hands away from his scalp, he straightened up and shook his head like a dog. Speckles of suds flew everywhere.

“You’re next,” he was barely audible over her shrieking laughter.

MacCready’s hands were strong and covered her whole head. She was going to tell him to make sure to really get into her roots, but she didn’t have to. The same focus and concentration he had through a scope, he took to her coils.

“How do I compare?” he asked, a cocky smirk in his tone.

Renée couldn’t help but cackle, “Compared to who? My mother? Or the women at the salon?”

“I don’t know. If you tell me I’m not as good as Ethel or Tiffany…”

“Ethel and Tiffany?” she laughed, “Why is that their names?”

“Old world names,” he shrugged.

They were too hysterical to help each other out with the conditioner. Every time MacCready started to touch her hair, he pretended to be Tiffany, and Renée kept doubling over from the joke. They had to scrub and rinse it out of their own hair.

She grabbed a washcloth when they were done.

“We’re not sharing that, are we?”

“Obviously not, RJ,” she rolled her eyes, “Turn around.”

“What? You’re going to wash me now?”

“That’s the idea, smartass.”

“Nah, uh, ladies first,” he took the sudsy cloth out of her hand, “You turn around.”

MacCready’s touch was rough, but thorough. He started with the back of her neck and went up behind her ears before moving on to her shoulders.

“Arm’s up,” he told her, and scrubbed her underarms as she lifted them. It tickled and she broke into squealing breathlessness. She felt him grow a bit behind her as she squirmed against him, a thickness starting to poke her bottom.

He brought the cloth down Renée’s spine next. One, slow stroke followed by a kiss to her shoulder, and she let out a long sigh. He meticulously attended to each part of her back, washing from left to right, top to bottom. Then he took the same level of attentiveness to her arms. One at a time, he wrapped them in the sudsy cloth before dragging it all the way down to her fingertips.

“The trick is getting under your fingernails,” he said scrubbing them, “Dirt likes to hide under there.”

“Oh, does it?” she chuckled.

MacCready washed his along with hers. Holding her hands as he scrubbed them, he traveled from her fingertips to his.

“Can’t wait for me to do that?”

“Not with what I have planned.”

“Really? And what would that be?”

“You’ll see.”

His confidence seemed to vanish when he asked her to turn around so that he could wash her other side. Renée noticed his eyes dart down.

He guiltily looked back up, “You ready?”

She snickered, “You like my boobies, RJ?”

His shock of laughter ricocheted boldly across the tile walls, echoing around them before he decided to play along, “I do, but they’re not nearly as nice as mine.”

The army had beaten the silly stick out of Nate. Renée was so used to his disgruntled reactions that time seemed to split out of MacCready’s playfulness. She found herself falling so easily into something familiar, affectionately provoking the man who made her melt. But RJ’s responses were so different. Not better, not worse. Just different, and she saw the moment play out both as what it was and what it wasn’t.

MacCready’s nervousness seemed to disappear when he brought the cloth over her throat and collarbone. Renée could feel her pulse race up by her ears. Then his hand moved over her heart and a calm rushed over her. A sigh came out like a half-sob.

“You okay?” His eyes and expression were tender with concern.

She nodded, “Just feels really nice.”

“I like it too.”

She smiled; her eyes still closed.

“Um, can I…?” he asked, staring at her breasts.

She caught his gaze, “Go ahead, RJ.”

“Man! I’ve thought about doing this—I mean!”

Her face already hurt from laughing so much, “It’s okay. I’ve thought about it too.”

“Then, um…” he brought the cloth over one and rubbed his hand over it.

“You feeling me up, MacCready? Or cleaning me?”

“Both,” he chuckled.

He took his time on each breast, and then brought an equal amount of care to her waist. When he finished washing her belly, he got on his knees and kissed the stretch marks adorning her hips.

“That’s dangerous,” she sighed.

“Nuh uh. Not yet.”

He rubbed the cloth all over her hips before bringing it between them.

“You ready?” he asked looking up at her.

She grabbed a fistful of his wet, clean hair, “Do it.”

He pulled the cloth between her legs, tenderly scrubbing every detail. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“You ever have anyone do this for you?”

“No,” she admitted, “It’s kind of weird. But I don’t mind you doing it.”

Still kneeling, he scrubbed her thighs next. RJ kissed her knees when he finished them, before moving onto her calves. Then he lifted her feet up one by one and even got between her toes.

“Not having your stinky feet in my sheets tonight.”

“I could easily kick you in the face right now, you know.”

“But you won’t.”

She almost fell backwards pretending to try. He caught her as she started to slip.

RJ saved the best for last, “Show me that a—spin around.”

She obliged, “Is this situation not explicit enough yet for you to curse in?”

“Not yet.”

Renée felt the smack of the wet rag bounce off her ass and gasped.

“Shit! Was that okay? I mean—Shoot was that okay?”

She wiggled her hips, “Do it again.”

She felt it hit the other side.

MacCready scrubbed each of her cheeks individually before getting between them. And once he got between them, he seemed to never want to leave.

“You good back there?”

“Uh… too good.”

You could hear her stupid grin in her tone, “I must be pristine enough now to eat off of.”

“And good enough to.”

His words and the ragged way they came out bewitched her.

“You can put your face closer if you like.”

She felt his nose brush against her cheek and caught the groan in his throat.

“You like my ass, RJ?”

“Yes.”

She smiled, feeling like a femme fatale from one of Nate’s movies, “I bet you want to eat it.”

“I do. Please, boss. Please let me taste your ass.”

He said “Boss” like it was the name of a deity. It made Renée want him to pin her down and tear her to pieces.

“Go ahead, merc. Eat it.”

His tongue went right for her asshole with a high, desperate moan. Renée braced herself against the wall and spread her legs apart as he licked around it and sucked. He squeezed her cheeks in his hands, crushing his face between them.

His moaning and gasping under the flow of water was driving her mad, “I need you RJ.”

It took him a moment to pull away, “You’ve gotta wash me off first. But I guess… Since I like ya, I could let you cum.”

“Please,” she begged, arching her back.

He resumed his task, bringing his fingers to her front. He teased them along her folds as he indulged in her ass. She felt so good he bit her ass on the cheek and moaned.

His fingertips found her stiffened clit and traced circles over and around it. He resisted the urge to feel inside of her until she pleaded more. When he finally just had to, Renée cried out with relief.

“More!” she demanded again.

He added another finger.

“More!”

And another. In fact, he ran out of fingers before she ran out of demands. RJ pumped in and out of her with his whole fist as his other hand teased her clit. His tongue played with her asshole and licked up and down her crevice.

He didn’t stop until she screamed and clenched around him.

He held her steady until she regained her balance, her knees having gone weak. She turned around. He was still kneeling, and she was still shaking.

“Your turn,” she panted.

They laughed as he stood up and Renée changed out the washcloth. MacCready held his mouth open under the water and rinsed it out a few times.

“I want you to kiss me,” he explained when he caught her watching.

Renée could barely even think, so she stole RJ’s scrubbing technique starting with his back. His shoulders somehow seemed even wider without his clothes on.

“You’ve got moles.”

“Guilty.”

“I like them. One, two, three… four, five of them. They look pretty on you.”

“Pretty? Me?”

“Yeah. I said what I said.”

He chuckled, “Thank you.”

“In fact… You’ve got a lot of pretty things on you, RJ. For example…”

Renée liked how she could tell from the back of his head that he had his brow raised.

She reached around to his front and grabbed hold of what she was looking for, “I think your dick is one of the prettiest ones I’ve ever seen.”

She could feel it pulse in her grip, throbbing as thickly as the heart inside her chest. Her breasts pressed into his back, and she could feel the echo of his own heartbeat under his skin.

MacCready’s body tensed when she let go of it. She resumed scrubbing his back.

Renée cleared her throat, but neither of them talked. She just kept washing him in the same way he washed her. Top to bottom, chest to toes. Until there she was on her knees, face-to-face with his cock as the water beat down over her head.

“All clean.”

MacCready had a hungry, far-away expression on his strained face as he ran his hands through her wet hair. His eyes rolled back as she took hold of his shaft and placed her lips at its head. She opened her mouth, and he let himself be consumed.

He groaned and gave into it a bit before lifting Renée off her knees.

“I can’t get enough of this,” he said through a mouthful of kissing her.

“I need you, RJ.”

“Say it again.”

“I need you.”

They were slippery, but MacCready still managed to lift her up into a similar embrace from this morning. With her legs wrapped around his hips, he guided himself between her thighs and dove inside her. She greeted him with a high, ecstatic whine and a gasp.

He leaned in for another kiss. It was his new favorite thing, rutting deep within her while messing with her tongue.

“I want more,” Renée moaned into him.

He groaned from the frustration of leaving her lips, “Wanna get on the floor?”

She nodded and he carefully let her down after pulling out.

Renée got on all fours with her ass up and felt MacCready catch it in his strong grip.

“Get back inside me,” she begged.

“You really want me?”

“I want you deep, please.”

She gasped as he put in his full length, with his big, rough hands wrapped around her hips adding power to his thrust. She could feel his balls clap against her as he continued to bash himself into her again and again. It shocked her how much she liked that. It sent waves and rushes of blood from her stomach to her toes.

“Fuck me,” she shouted over the water. It echoed, bouncing between the tiles.

He slowed down and she groaned.

“Cum for me and I’ll go fast again.”

It was already happening before he asked. When he felt her tighten and pulse, he sped up.

Renée’s head felt the same as it did after a second hit of psycho jet. Nothing in all her fantasies of him could have prepared her for the feeling of an orgasm being torn out of her right on top of a waning one the way it was happening now.

“I’m still cumming,” she squealed in a voice she didn’t recognize.

He just moaned, and that echoed through the shower too.

Renée felt incredibly stupid when the next wave came on. Nothing of herself was left but a sensation that compared to having her soul sucked out of her body through his cock. No thoughts. No sense of being. Just a vague sense that if he stopped now, it would kill her.

“I’m cumming,” she heard him shout, “Oh god, I’m cumming!”

The sound of his voice was far from her consciousness. Consumed with sharp pleasure, her being was boiling inside her center and being torn apart like a star meeting a black hole.

It was like she could feel his climax on top of hers. Like the bruise of two good aches stacked on top of each other.

The sensations finally let go of them. He fell back onto the shower floor in a daze, and she settled onto his lap. They sat there holding each other under the water with the best kind of overwhelm.

Finally, MacCready was able to speak, “Can we get out now? Kinda getting sick of all this water.”

Renée kissed him in agreement, laughing her mind back into her head.

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

“Codsworth make this too?” MacCready asked as Renée rubbed lotion on his back. He was lying on his stomach on her brand-new bed, in what was a completely different loft than the one from before. It was well-lit, clean, and colorful; with Grognak posters covering the walls and bright green plants in every possible corner. She straddled him, still naked, running her hands all over the length of his back.

“No, um… Actually, this one was a… a gift.”

Her response was uncharacteristically cagey, but she sounded more shy than secretive. MacCready wasn’t about to pass that up.

“From?” he poked.

“A certain… a certain singer at the Third Rail.”

“Magnolia?!”

“Don’t start!”

She could see his heaves of laughter through his back.

“You fucked Maggie?”

“Wait, she lets you call her Maggie?”

“Not to her face.”

Renée playfully smacked him between shoulder blades. It was gentle, but he acted like it wasn’t.

“Ow!” he laughed.

“Oh no, my hands slipped!” she said unconvincingly, “They’re just so lotion-y.”

“Uh, huh.”

“Wait, did you fuck her too? Did we fuck the same person?”

“I tried,” he shrugged, which from his current position was more like a squeeze of his shoulders.

Renée laughed, “Damn do I have better game than you, RJ?”

He twisted around and pulled her squealing down onto the bed. Again, he found himself all over her mouth like it was a drug.

“Holy shit, where have you been?” he asked breathlessly.

“Language!” she teased, “And right the fuck in front of you. This whole time!”

“Sharing the same bed,” he laughed.

“You’re an idiot, RJ.”

“I really am!”

“No! You’re not!” she pouted.

“Okay. I’m not.”

She smiled again, “That’s better.”

Looking at him like that, she found words that felt like a betrayal. She was only supposed to find those words while lost in different-colored eyes. They were the only thing on her mind, the only thing she wanted to say. But they felt like spitting on the dead, so she held her tongue.

MacCready knew her better than that, knew there was always a story behind her knitted brows.

“What’s up?” he asked, suddenly serious.

She smirked without any levity in it. Then she just shrugged. MacCready took the hint to just sit there and hold her.

“Moving on…" she started hesitantly, “Moving on means not holding back with each other for the sake of the past, right?”

“Right. I’d say so.” He didn’t know where this was going, but he was patient.

“And that doesn’t erase them? Moving on?”

Something in her tone made him think of Duncan. It shared a quality with the way he’d ask if there were monsters in the night.

He thought for a moment, searching for the best answer.

“I don’t see how anything ever could.”

Renée buried her face in his chest. She groaned a few times, and lightly banged her head against his bones before speaking again, “The things I want to tell you feel like cheating even though I saw him die.”

“I think I know what you mean.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have to say anything before you’re ready to, but can you tell me one thing?”

“Hmm?”

“Is it good or bad?”

“Good.”

“Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief that made her head lift and go down with his chest.

“I just… um…” Renée bit her lip, “And I’m not saying that I’ve never been satisfied or that Nate was bad or anything. Okay?”

“Uh, okay.”

“I’ve just… I never… I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before. Like I’ve done it, but I’ve never felt that.”

She looked up to find the most disgustingly smug expression on his lips.

“Oh, fuck off with that,” she warned him.

“What?” he was grinning so hard that his voice was strained with self-satisfaction.

She just lowered her eyes.

He softened his, “Hey, come here.”

His hand consumed the side of her face and she shut her glare with contentment.

“I don’t know if what I felt was more intense or just different, but I know I haven’t felt anything like that since Lucy. And you two are impossible to compare.”

“Lucky. I can’t help comparing you and Nate.”

“That’s okay too. A little scary, but okay.”

She chuckled, “You really don’t compare us?”

“It’s not that I can’t, it’s—Okay I know this sounds silly, but I don’t compare you because it would break my heart. Not because you’re better or worse! Not anything like that. But because it’s… It’s not fair. You can love Nate forever, and I can love Lucy forever, but they’re not here. We get to feel this, and be this together, and they’re just dead.”

Renée adjusted her arms to hold him tighter. They stayed there like that for a while, holding onto each other as a tether against cosmic injustice.

She spoke again to lighten the moment, “Magnolia was my first here. After Nate.”

“Maybe it was the blue vault suit.”

“Oh, are you not gonna let this go now? That I’m better than you?”

“It’s tight in all the right places.”

“RJ!”

MacCready sat up, bringing Renée into his lap. They were both naked, their cleaned skin still drinking up the lotion they’d put on after their shower.

He held the back of her neck and spoke so close to her lips that they touched on certain words, “And after Magnolia?”

“Just some guy.”

She’d save the story about Pickman for later. It was a long one, and she was enjoying the way he was so close to her mouth too much to interrupt it.

“And then?”

“And then you.”

The way he finally grabbed her lips was hungry.

“And then?” he asked again.

Her eyes were soft, “And then just you.”

“Yeah?” his voice had a desperate hitch.

“Yeah.”

“Say it.”

“Just you, RJ. Only you.”

“For how long?” he asked, kissing all over her neck.

“Forever,” she admitted, “Is that crazy?”

“Yes. But I like it.”

It was their first time in a bed. Not a pantry wall or a shower. It was the first time he threw her legs over his shoulders and heard her scream his name into his chest.

It was the second time she came that hard.

Afterwards, only MacCready could speak, and then it was only one word, “Cigarettes?”

The terrace was the best part of Renée’s impulse purchase. All the buildings in Diamond City were ugly, but seeing rooftops sparkle in the city-lit darkness always had some kind of magic to it. No matter where you were or how good the view.

Plus, it gave her a place to smoke.

“We smoke inside all the time.”

“Yeah, but not anywhere that’s ours. This is my house. I bought it. We smoke outside.”

“Woooow,” he took a drag, “Take off your shoes, smoke outside… You’ve got rules.”

“I do.”

“And here I thought you were the lawless type.”

“I am! People are complex, RJ.”

He laughed.

Then he wrapped an arm around her and said, “I wish we never had to go.”

He felt her nod against his shoulder.

“Hey, Renée?”

She looked up at him with her cat-like blue eyes, a trail of smoke leaving her lips, “RJ?”

He kissed her once before he spoke, “I love you. Big time.”

She smiled, “Big time?”

“Huge,” he grinned.

“I love you big time back.”

*                       *                       *                       *                       *                       *

They fell into a pattern for the next few precious days. From the bed to the terrace, and the terrace to the bed, they dragged each other into a blissful oblivion.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t in the stars for them to stay. Reality waited by the door. It hovered on the welcome mat, haunting their ecstatic pause.

One night, smoking on the terrace, MacCready opened the door and let it in.

“Daisy, uh… Daisy said I could leave with one of her caravans to visit the homestead.”

“When—?”

He took a drag and ashed his cigarette, “Transmission came through today. Duncan’s doing great.”

MacCready’s voice got caught in his throat at the end of that sentence. Happiness and relief welled in his eyes, as did all his pent-up worry.

Of course Renée was happy, ridiculously so, but she’d literally killed for the moment RJ was having, and would kill again as many times as it took to have it herself. They knew Duncan was okay, and where he was. He was safe, cared for. MacCready had the chance to see him, hold him again. All while they still knew next to nothing about Shaun.

Renée spoke over the envy lodged in her throat, “That’s so great!”

They embraced and cried, celebrating that one of their children was going to make it.

“You need to be there, RJ.”

“I know. Would you—?”

She shook her head, “We’re almost ready to storm Ft. Hagen. I’d love to! But I have to be here.”

“Wish I could be here for that.”

“I know, me too.”

“I’m sorry I won’t be.”

“Please don’t apologize. It’s Duncan.”

He squeezed her tight, “You’re going to find Shaun.”

For the first time, she let herself feel her full fear. Her voice trembled, “We’ve already waited so long.”

Her cries were muffled by his jacket where she buried her face. MacCready held Renée while she broke apart. Months of terror, uncertainty, and searching came crashing out of her in hyperventilating cascades. His emotions escaped with hers, and they stood there purging every feeling until they had nothing left inside.

He got them water when they calmed down. Then they sat down and smoked until the sun came up.

One more day together, and then they’d make the trek back to Goodneighbor.

“Maybe when I’m back, we’ll be able to figure everything out for the four of us,” MacCready said as they sat there on her roof, “You, me, Duncan, and Shaun.”

Renée squeezed his hand, “I hope so.”