#communications decency act

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Copyright takedowns are a cautionary tale that few are heeding

On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

We're living through one of those moments when millions of people become suddenly and overwhelmingly interested in fair use, one of the subtlest and worst-understood aspects of copyright law. It's not a subject you can master by skimming a Wikipedia article!

I've been talking about fair use with laypeople for more than 20 years. I've met so many people who possess the unshakable, serene confidence of the truly wrong, like the people who think fair use means you can take x words from a book, or y seconds from a song and it will always be fair, while anything more will never be.

Or the people who think that if you violate any of the four factors, your use can't be fair – or the people who think that if you fail all of the four factors, you must be infringing (people, the Supreme Court is calling and they want to tell you about the Betamax!).

You might think that you can never quote a song lyric in a book without infringing copyright, or that you must clear every musical sample. You might be rock solid certain that scraping the web to train an AI is infringing. If you hold those beliefs, you do not understand the "fact intensive" nature of fair use.

But you can learn! It's actually a really cool and interesting and gnarly subject, and it's a favorite of copyright scholars, who have really fascinating disagreements and discussions about the subject. These discussions often key off of the controversies of the moment, but inevitably they implicate earlier fights about everything from the piano roll to 2 Live Crew to antiracist retellings of Gone With the Wind.

One of the most interesting discussions of fair use you can ask for took place in 2019, when the NYU Engelberg Center on Innovation Law & Policy held a symposium called "Proving IP." One of the panels featured dueling musicologists debating the merits of the Blurred Lines case. That case marked a turning point in music copyright, with the Marvin Gaye estate successfully suing Robin Thicke and Pharrell Williams for copying the "vibe" of Gaye's "Got to Give it Up."

Naturally, this discussion featured clips from both songs as the experts – joined by some of America's top copyright scholars – delved into the legal reasoning and future consequences of the case. It would be literally impossible to discuss this case without those clips.

And that's where the problems start: as soon as the symposium was uploaded to Youtube, it was flagged and removed by Content ID, Google's $100,000,000 copyright enforcement system. This initial takedown was fully automated, which is how Content ID works: rightsholders upload audio to claim it, and then Content ID removes other videos where that audio appears (rightsholders can also specify that videos with matching clips be demonetized, or that the ad revenue from those videos be diverted to the rightsholders).

But Content ID has a safety valve: an uploader whose video has been incorrectly flagged can challenge the takedown. The case is then punted to the rightsholder, who has to manually renew or drop their claim. In the case of this symposium, the rightsholder was Universal Music Group, the largest record company in the world. UMG's personnel reviewed the video and did not drop the claim.

99.99% of the time, that's where the story would end, for many reasons. First of all, most people don't understand fair use well enough to contest the judgment of a cosmically vast, unimaginably rich monopolist who wants to censor their video. Just as importantly, though, is that Content ID is a Byzantine system that is nearly as complex as fair use, but it's an entirely private affair, created and adjudicated by another galactic-scale monopolist (Google).

Google's copyright enforcement system is a cod-legal regime with all the downsides of the law, and a few wrinkles of its own (for example, it's a system without lawyers – just corporate experts doing battle with laypeople). And a single mis-step can result in your video being deleted or your account being permanently deleted, along with every video you've ever posted. For people who make their living on audiovisual content, losing your Youtube account is an extinction-level event:

https://www.eff.org/wp/unfiltered-how-youtubes-content-id-discourages-fair-use-and-dictates-what-we-see-online

So for the average Youtuber, Content ID is a kind of Kafka-as-a-Service system that is always avoided and never investigated. But the Engelbert Center isn't your average Youtuber: they boast some of the country's top copyright experts, specializing in exactly the questions Youtube's Content ID is supposed to be adjudicating.

So naturally, they challenged the takedown – only to have UMG double down. This is par for the course with UMG: they are infamous for refusing to consider fair use in takedown requests. Their stance is so unreasonable that a court actually found them guilty of violating the DMCA's provision against fraudulent takedowns:

https://www.eff.org/cases/lenz-v-universal

But the DMCA's takedown system is part of the real law, while Content ID is a fake law, created and overseen by a tech monopolist, not a court. So the fate of the Blurred Lines discussion turned on the Engelberg Center's ability to navigate both the law and the n-dimensional topology of Content ID's takedown flowchart.

It took more than a year, but eventually, Engelberg prevailed.

Until they didn't.

If Content ID was a person, it would be baby, specifically, a baby under 18 months old – that is, before the development of "object permanence." Until our 18th month (or so), we lack the ability to reason about things we can't see – this the period when small babies find peek-a-boo amazing. Object permanence is the ability to understand things that aren't in your immediate field of vision.

Content ID has no object permanence. Despite the fact that the Engelberg Blurred Lines panel was the most involved fair use question the system was ever called upon to parse, it managed to repeatedly forget that it had decided that the panel could stay up. Over and over since that initial determination, Content ID has taken down the video of the panel, forcing Engelberg to go through the whole process again.

But that's just for starters, because Youtube isn't the only place where a copyright enforcement bot is making billions of unsupervised, unaccountable decisions about what audiovisual material you're allowed to access.

Spotify is yet another monopolist, with a justifiable reputation for being extremely hostile to artists' interests, thanks in large part to the role that UMG and the other major record labels played in designing its business rules:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing

Spotify has spent hundreds of millions of dollars trying to capture the podcasting market, in the hopes of converting one of the last truly open digital publishing systems into a product under its control:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/27/enshittification-resistance/#ummauerter-garten-nein

Thankfully, that campaign has failed – but millions of people have (unwisely) ditched their open podcatchers in favor of Spotify's pre-enshittified app, so everyone with a podcast now must target Spotify for distribution if they hope to reach those captive users.

Guess who has a podcast? The Engelberg Center.

Naturally, Engelberg's podcast includes the audio of that Blurred Lines panel, and that audio includes samples from both "Blurred Lines" and "Got To Give It Up."

So – naturally – UMG keeps taking down the podcast.

Spotify has its own answer to Content ID, and incredibly, it's even worse and harder to navigate than Google's pretend legal system. As Engelberg describes in its latest post, UMG and Spotify have colluded to ensure that this now-classic discussion of fair use will never be able to take advantage of fair use itself:

https://www.nyuengelberg.org/news/how-explaining-copyright-broke-the-spotify-copyright-system/

Remember, this is the best case scenario for arguing about fair use with a monopolist like UMG, Google, or Spotify. As Engelberg puts it:

The Engelberg Center had an extraordinarily high level of interest in pursuing this issue, and legal confidence in our position that would have cost an average podcaster tens of thousands of dollars to develop. That cannot be what is required to challenge the removal of a podcast episode.

Automated takedown systems are the tech industry's answer to the "notice-and-takedown" system that was invented to broker a peace between copyright law and the internet, starting with the US's 1998 Digital Millennium Copyright Act. The DMCA implements (and exceeds) a pair of 1996 UN treaties, the WIPO Copyright Treaty and the Performances and Phonograms Treaty, and most countries in the world have some version of notice-and-takedown.

Big corporate rightsholders claim that notice-and-takedown is a gift to the tech sector, one that allows tech companies to get away with copyright infringement. They want a "strict liability" regime, where any platform that allows a user to post something infringing is liable for that infringement, to the tune of $150,000 in statutory damages.

Of course, there's no way for a platform to know a priori whether something a user posts infringes on someone's copyright. There is no registry of everything that is copyrighted, and of course, fair use means that there are lots of ways to legally reproduce someone's work without their permission (or even when they object). Even if every person who ever has trained or ever will train as a copyright lawyer worked 24/7 for just one online platform to evaluate every tweet, video, audio clip and image for copyright infringement, they wouldn't be able to touch even 1% of what gets posted to that platform.

The "compromise" that the entertainment industry wants is automated takedown – a system like Content ID, where rightsholders register their copyrights and platforms block anything that matches the registry. This "filternet" proposal became law in the EU in 2019 with Article 17 of the Digital Single Market Directive:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/09/today-europe-lost-internet-now-we-fight-back

This was the most controversial directive in EU history, and – as experts warned at the time – there is no way to implement it without violating the GDPR, Europe's privacy law, so now it's stuck in limbo:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/05/eus-copyright-directive-still-about-filters-eus-top-court-limits-its-use

As critics pointed out during the EU debate, there are so many problems with filternets. For one thing, these copyright filters are very expensive: remember that Google has spent $100m on Content ID alone, and that only does a fraction of what filternet advocates demand. Building the filternet would cost so much that only the biggest tech monopolists could afford it, which is to say, filternets are a legal requirement to keep the tech monopolists in business and prevent smaller, better platforms from ever coming into existence.

Filternets are also incapable of telling the difference between similar files. This is especially problematic for classical musicians, who routinely find their work blocked or demonetized by Sony Music, which claims performances of all the most important classical music compositions:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/08/copyfraud/#beethoven-just-wrote-music

Content ID can't tell the difference between your performance of "The Goldberg Variations" and Glenn Gould's. For classical musicians, the best case scenario is to have their online wages stolen by Sony, who fraudulently claim copyright to their recordings. The worst case scenario is that their video is blocked, their channel deleted, and their names blacklisted from ever opening another account on one of the monopoly platforms.

But when it comes to free expression, the role that notice-and-takedown and filternets play in the creative industries is really a sideshow. In creating a system of no-evidence-required takedowns, with no real consequences for fraudulent takedowns, these systems are huge gift to the world's worst criminals. For example, "reputation management" companies help convicted rapists, murderers, and even war criminals purge the internet of true accounts of their crimes by claiming copyright over them:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#dark-ops

Remember how during the covid lockdowns, scumbags marketed junk devices by claiming that they'd protect you from the virus? Their products remained online, while the detailed scientific articles warning people about the fraud were speedily removed through false copyright claims:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/18/labor-shortage-discourse-time/#copyfraud

Copyfraud – making false copyright claims – is an extremely safe crime to commit, and it's not just quack covid remedy peddlers and war criminals who avail themselves of it. Tech giants like Adobe do not hesitate to abuse the takedown system, even when that means exposing millions of people to spyware:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/13/theres-an-app-for-that/#gnash

Dirty cops play loud, copyrighted music during confrontations with the public, in the hopes that this will trigger copyright filters on services like Youtube and Instagram and block videos of their misbehavior:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/10/duke-sucks/#bhpd

But even if you solved all these problems with filternets and takedown, this system would still choke on fair use and other copyright exceptions. These are "fact intensive" questions that the world's top experts struggle with (as anyone who watches the Blurred Lines panel can see). There's no way we can get software to accurately determine when a use is or isn't fair.

That's a question that the entertainment industry itself is increasingly conflicted about. The Blurred Lines judgment opened the floodgates to a new kind of copyright troll – grifters who sued the record labels and their biggest stars for taking the "vibe" of songs that no one ever heard of. Musicians like Ed Sheeran have been sued for millions of dollars over these alleged infringements. These suits caused the record industry to (ahem) change its tune on fair use, insisting that fair use should be broadly interpreted to protect people who made things that were similar to existing works. The labels understood that if "vibe rights" became accepted law, they'd end up in the kind of hell that the rest of us enter when we try to post things online – where anything they produce can trigger takedowns, long legal battles, and millions in liability:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/08/oh-why/#two-notes-and-running

But the music industry remains deeply conflicted over fair use. Take the curious case of Katy Perry's song "Dark Horse," which attracted a multimillion-dollar suit from an obscure Christian rapper who claimed that a brief phrase in "Dark Horse" was impermissibly similar to his song "A Joyful Noise."

Perry and her publisher, Warner Chappell, lost the suit and were ordered to pay $2.8m. While they subsequently won an appeal, this definitely put the cold grue up Warner Chappell's back. They could see a long future of similar suits launched by treasure hunters hoping for a quick settlement.

But here's where it gets unbelievably weird and darkly funny. A Youtuber named Adam Neely made a wildly successful viral video about the suit, taking Perry's side and defending her song. As part of that video, Neely included a few seconds' worth of "A Joyful Noise," the song that Perry was accused of copying.

In court, Warner Chappell had argued that "A Joyful Noise" was not similar to Perry's "Dark Horse." But when Warner had Google remove Neely's video, they claimed that the sample from "Joyful Noise" was actually taken from "Dark Horse." Incredibly, they maintained this position through multiple appeals through the Content ID system:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/05/warner-chappell-copyfraud/#warnerchappell

In other words, they maintained that the song that they'd told the court was totally dissimilar to their own was so indistinguishable from their own song that they couldn't tell the difference!

Now, this question of vibes, similarity and fair use has only gotten more intense since the takedown of Neely's video. Just this week, the RIAA sued several AI companies, claiming that the songs the AI shits out are infringingly similar to tracks in their catalog:

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/record-labels-sue-music-generators-suno-and-udio-1235042056/

Even before "Blurred Lines," this was a difficult fair use question to answer, with lots of chewy nuances. Just ask George Harrison:

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

But as the Engelberg panel's cohort of dueling musicologists and renowned copyright experts proved, this question only gets harder as time goes by. If you listen to that panel (if you can listen to that panel), you'll be hard pressed to come away with any certainty about the questions in this latest lawsuit.

The notice-and-takedown system is what's known as an "intermediary liability" rule. Platforms are "intermediaries" in that they connect end users with each other and with businesses. Ebay and Etsy and Amazon connect buyers and sellers; Facebook and Google and Tiktok connect performers, advertisers and publishers with audiences and so on.

For copyright, notice-and-takedown gives platforms a "safe harbor." A platform doesn't have to remove material after an allegation of infringement, but if they don't, they're jointly liable for any future judgment. In other words, Youtube isn't required to take down the Engelberg Blurred Lines panel, but if UMG sues Engelberg and wins a judgment, Google will also have to pay out.

During the adoption of the 1996 WIPO treaties and the 1998 US DMCA, this safe harbor rule was characterized as a balance between the rights of the public to publish online and the interest of rightsholders whose material might be infringed upon. The idea was that things that were likely to be infringing would be immediately removed once the platform received a notification, but that platforms would ignore spurious or obviously fraudulent takedowns.

That's not how it worked out. Whether it's Sony Music claiming to own your performance of "Fur Elise" or a war criminal claiming authorship over a newspaper story about his crimes, platforms nuke first and ask questions never. Why not? If they ignore a takedown and get it wrong, they suffer dire consequences ($150,000 per claim). But if they take action on a dodgy claim, there are no consequences. Of course they're just going to delete anything they're asked to delete.

This is how platforms always handle liability, and that's a lesson that we really should have internalized by now. After all, the DMCA is the second-most famous intermediary liability system for the internet – the most (in)famous is Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act.

This is a 27-word law that says that platforms are not liable for civil damages arising from their users' speech. Now, this is a US law, and in the US, there aren't many civil damages from speech to begin with. The First Amendment makes it very hard to get a libel judgment, and even when these judgments are secured, damages are typically limited to "actual damages" – generally a low sum. Most of the worst online speech is actually not illegal: hate speech, misinformation and disinformation are all covered by the First Amendment.

Notwithstanding the First Amendment, there are categories of speech that US law criminalizes: actual threats of violence, criminal harassment, and committing certain kinds of legal, medical, election or financial fraud. These are all exempted from Section 230, which only provides immunity for civil suits, not criminal acts.

What Section 230 really protects platforms from is being named to unwinnable nuisance suits by unscrupulous parties who are betting that the platforms would rather remove legal speech that they object to than go to court. A generation of copyfraudsters have proved that this is a very safe bet:

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

In other words, if you made a #MeToo accusation, or if you were a gig worker using an online forum to organize a union, or if you were blowing the whistle on your employer's toxic waste leaks, or if you were any other under-resourced person being bullied by a wealthy, powerful person or organization, that organization could shut you up by threatening to sue the platform that hosted your speech. The platform would immediately cave. But those same rich and powerful people would have access to the lawyers and back-channels that would prevent you from doing the same to them – that's why Sony can get your Brahms recital taken down, but you can't turn around and do the same to them.

This is true of every intermediary liability system, and it's been true since the earliest days of the internet, and it keeps getting proven to be true. Six years ago, Trump signed SESTA/FOSTA, a law that allowed platforms to be held civilly liable by survivors of sex trafficking. At the time, advocates claimed that this would only affect "sexual slavery" and would not impact consensual sex-work.

But from the start, and ever since, SESTA/FOSTA has primarily targeted consensual sex-work, to the immediate, lasting, and profound detriment of sex workers:

https://hackinghustling.org/what-is-sesta-fosta/

SESTA/FOSTA killed the "bad date" forums where sex workers circulated the details of violent and unstable clients, killed the online booking sites that allowed sex workers to screen their clients, and killed the payment processors that let sex workers avoid holding unsafe amounts of cash:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/09/fight-overturn-fosta-unconstitutional-internet-censorship-law-continues

SESTA/FOSTA made voluntary sex work more dangerous – and also made life harder for law enforcement efforts to target sex trafficking:

https://hackinghustling.org/erased-the-impact-of-fosta-sesta-2020/

Despite half a decade of SESTA/FOSTA, despite 15 years of filternets, despite a quarter century of notice-and-takedown, people continue to insist that getting rid of safe harbors will punish Big Tech and make life better for everyday internet users.

As of now, it seems likely that Section 230 will be dead by then end of 2025, even if there is nothing in place to replace it:

https://energycommerce.house.gov/posts/bipartisan-energy-and-commerce-leaders-announce-legislative-hearing-on-sunsetting-section-230

This isn't the win that some people think it is. By making platforms responsible for screening the content their users post, we create a system that only the largest tech monopolies can survive, and only then by removing or blocking anything that threatens or displeases the wealthy and powerful.

Filternets are not precision-guided takedown machines; they're indiscriminate cluster-bombs that destroy anything in the vicinity of illegal speech – including (and especially) the best-informed, most informative discussions of how these systems go wrong, and how that blocks the complaints of the powerless, the marginalized, and the abused.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

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/2024/06/27/nuke-first/#ask-questions-never

Image: EFF https://www.eff.org/files/banner_library/yt-fu-1b.png

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

[nationallawreview]

Social Media’s Legal Dilemma: Curated Harmful Content

Walking the Line Between Immunity and Liability: How Social Media Platforms May Be Liable for Harmful Content Specifically Curated for Users As proliferation of harmful content online has increasingly become easier and more accessible through social media, review websites and other online public forums, businesses and politicians have pushed to reform and limit the sweeping protections afforded…

[scare-ard--sleigh]

yeah if you read the g*iman allegations and are still quibbling over how this is "hard" for you as a fan and you wanna separate art from the artist, i do not have space for you in my life.

[iteh3xael]

Made someone upset on TikTok for using Alphabet Soup lol

[phosphorusab]

A grown ass man lured a 14 year old girl out to a park at night, abused her, killed her, dismembered her and scattered her remains in public parks and rivers. Now if that girl was a cisgender girl, the general public would rightfully put the blame on the perpetrator for taking advantage of and murdering a minor.

But because Pauly Likens Jr was a transgender girl, the general public is going full trans panic defense, even though the perpetrator said they met on Grindr, if that was even true. Grindr doesn’t verify the age of its users and legally doesn’t have to due to Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, which means half of sexually active queer adolescents will use this app and fall into the hands of predators.

https://www.wgbh.org/news/national/2021-07-12/unseen-part-3-popular-gay-dating-app-grindr-poses-exploitation-risk-to-minors

Grindr has been known to have a sexual exploitation of minors issue, and I just know that people are going to see that Pauly Likens Jr and her killer may have used this app to blame Pauly for her own demise.

It’s just like they did with Gwen Araujo in 2002 (a 17 year old trans girl killed by 4 grown ass men), Mercedes Williamson in 2015 (a 17 year old trans girl killed by a grown ass man) and Nikki Kuhnhausen in 2019 (a 17 year old trans girl killed by a grown ass man). You stop being an innocent kid who is capable of being victimized when you’re trans. You’re a threat to other kids your age or younger, and you’re a precocious sexual provocateur towards adults. This applies especially to transgender girls - complete dehumanization and transmisogyny.

This pattern of transgender teenage girls being taken advantage of by adults and killed is completely unacceptable, and society should start acting like it.

[justsomeantifas]

Senate Democrats are trying to gut Section 230

4/18/2025

Section 230 is a law passed in the 90s that gave birth to the modern internet. Without it, the internet as we know it quite literally would not exist.

Gutting part of Section 230 is why there was a tumblr purge in 2018 which led to a domino effect of making the internet worse. This was written in SESTA/FOSTA.

Senators Dick Durbin (D) and Lindsey Graham (R) are introducing a bill that would “sunset” Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act. Section 230 is known as the “26 words that created the Internet.” It essentially allows websites to host users’ speech and engage in good faith moderation without being held legally liable for every post users make. Without it, platforms would have to choose between ducking lawsuits by pre-censoring "controversial" content or abandoning moderation altogether. Smaller, decentralized platforms like Bluesky, Mastodon, Signal, and Reddit would likely be tanked by lawsuits, while Big Tech companies like Meta, Google, and X would survive, solidifying their monopolies

There would be no more organizing protests like Tesla Takedown online, no more posting about abortion resources or trans healthcare, and no more independent media. With the Trump admin escalating attacks on immigrants, students, journalists, and protestors, we can’t afford to lose online organizing spaces and access to information. Tell lawmakers: hands off Section 230! (link below contains petition and more details on the law)

(I know it seems like pressuring congress doesn't work, but this is how KOSA was defeated 2 sessions in a row. IT WORKS.)

[mariasont]

side effects of garcia's advice

spencer tries to hide his panic when you debut a swimsuit garcia assured was perfect

pairing: spencer reid r x shy!reader warnings: fem!reader, reader wearing bikini, spencer having some non-descript inappropriate thoughts, post prison spencer, reader being insecure prompt: here wc: 0.7k

Spencer’s halfway down the steps and mentally two-thirds of the way debunking the latest conspiracy theory Rossi shared over coffee this morning — something involving dolphins as government spies — when he suddenly stops cold, foot hovering awkwardly mid-air.

All prior intellectual inquiries vanish in a humiliating instant, displaced by the infinitely more pressing inquiry of how he’s supposed to function normally now.

You’re in the kitchen, folding a towel into your already overflowing beach bag, and Spencer is certain, beyond any doubt, that he’s never seen you wear anything remotely resembling that.

His eyes skate quickly, almost involuntarily, down the length of your body — the curve of your waist, the soft swell of skin exposed along your hip, the tiny ties that hold together whatever passes for fabric.

For six painstaking days, he’d grown accustomed (though that’s admittedly a generous use of the word) to seeing you in swimsuits that were charmingly modest. Vintage-inspired one-pieces that, despite covering a reasonable percentage of skin, still left him tongue-tied and desperate for air.

This is a drastic departure from that.

This is a swimsuit whose existence seems to defy several laws of physics and at least one ordinance of common decency. 

He finds himself staring far too openly at places he’s only imagined, and yet now, confronted with their very real existence, he’s almost offended by how utterly incapable he is of maintaining decorum.

You turn, eyes landing softly on his, and Spencer’s mind helpfully informs him that, yes, this is objectively much worse.

He wasn’t prepared for you to notice him so soon — truthfully, he wasn’t prepared at all — but now you’re staring right back, blinking shyly and pulling him into a reality where he’s expected to communicate. To form sentences. To act, God forbid, like a functioning human.

His eyes flicker downward without permission, and he immediately regrets it — because now your breasts are center stage.

You immediately fold upward, shoulders curving defensively, eyes darting away as you misinterpret his prolonged silence. 

“Oh, god, it’s way too revealing, isn’t it?” You clutch a towel protectively to your chest. “Garcia said I should step out of my comfort zone, but I told her — I said everyone would probably think it was inappropriate or something, and now you’re clearly uncomfortable —”

“Whoa, slow down,” Spencer says quickly, raising a hand as if physically halting your words. He clears his throat, meeting your gaze directly despite the persistent flush across his cheeks. “I’m not uncomfortable. Surprised, sure.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer blinks, momentarily frozen. His mind races, searching for any plausible, non-mortifying explanation.

“I — uh, I was just calculating your chances of sunburn,” he blurts, then cringes instantly. “You, um, should probably wear sunscreen. A lot of it.”

“Oh, right!” You nod, clearly grateful for a sensible explanation. “I already packed two bottles, but maybe I should get another just in case.”

Spencer almost laughs out loud, partly in disbelief at your earnest acceptance of his absurd excuse, but mostly because he knows he’s exactly the kind of overly concerned nerd who would genuinely calculate sunscreen rations. 

He accepts this minor humiliation graciously, stepping hesitantly forward into the kitchen. “Two bottles should suffice, unless you plan on spending more than twelve consecutive hours outdoors, which… seems excessive.”

“Okay,” you mumble softly, eyes darting away before returning shyly to his face, voice tentative. “You’re sure I don’t look… you know, like I’m trying too hard or anything?”

Spencer swallows thickly, wishing his mouth didn’t feel so dry every time you looked at him like that. If he were capable of speech right now, he’d tell you just how crazy it was to think that you could ever look like you were trying too hard.

Because the reality — the excruciating, undeniable reality — is that you look effortlessly pretty, the kind of pretty that has his heart stumbling in his chest and his thoughts drifting dangerously toward territory he should not explore.

He clenches his jaw slightly, internally chastising himself because the mental images his brain insists on conjuring are entirely inappropriate for a kitchen at 10 a.m.

“Completely sure. You look…. beautiful. Really beautiful.”

Your eyes widen, a soft, embarrassed laugh slipping out. “Oh. Thank you. Um, did that come across like I was fishing for compliments? Because I swear I wasn’t trying to —”

“Relax. You weren’t,” he says. “Even if you were, you’re allowed. I’m happy to indulge you.”

You let out a breathless laugh, and Spencer means every word — though he silently acknowledges that he really, really needs to send Garcia a very pointed message about the unintended effects of her advice.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

day 6 extras

💌 click here to check in → confirm your room (and crush)

maria's spring break getaway masterlist

[tradgedyinwaves]

First Choice - Part 4

Part Four of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking, more touchy-touchy, reader thinks about sexual acts

In celebration of 200 followers, this part has way more than 650 words. More like 1600. :)

Conversation flowed easily with them despite their sole focus being on you. At some point, Kyle’s hand had drifted onto your thigh, fingers pressing into the flesh gently. John’s arm had slipped from the back of the booth and now rested around your shoulders. You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Johnny couldn’t keep his feet still and kept tapping yours under the table. The only one who couldn’t seem to relax was Ghost, sitting almost across from you. 

His eyes never left you and he mainly seemed to communicate in grunts. At least, he was drinking this time, his glass now empty of his own whiskey. You were careful not to drink too much, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of these beautiful men. But it didn’t keep you from relaxing and feeling the warmth of the two next to you. 

Pulling out your phone, you checked the time and groaned. “I really should be going. It’s been great,” you announce, looking to Kyle to move so you could slide out from the booth. “Aw come on. We’re having so much fun. Just a wee longer?” Johnny asks and you turn to him, finding yourself giving in almost immediately. Damn the puppy dog eyes. 

“Only a bit longer,” you concede and relax back into the seat. This time when Kyle’s hand lands on your thigh, it’s higher and the heat is searing through your jeans. You let out a soft sound, biting your lip as his hand starts slowly caressing your thigh up and down. He’s not even looking at you when you look up, already deep in conversation with Johnny about some sports game you had no clue about. 

John’s arm settled back over your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer so his hand hovers over your breast and you can feel the hair of his arm on your bare collarbone. Your breasts jiggle slightly with your laugh when Johnny makes a joke and you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly before darting back up to your face. He, at least, has the decency to blush, the faint pink color tinging his cheeks. 

When the crowd in the bar starts to thin out and you realize even your friends have left for the night, you’re yawning in your seat and now leaned completely against John with his thick arm draped over your shoulders. Kyle’s hand is now tucked between your thick thighs, the side pressed as tightly to your core as he can get it and you hope to whatever higher powers that be that he couldn’t feel the radiating heat or the damp spot that had soaked into your panties. 

“Okay, okay. I really do need to go now. My friends aren’t even here anymore and that’s saying something,” you chirp, suddenly very awake and aware that you’re in an almost empty bar with four men you’d only met that night. They all look at you like they’d rather eat sawdust than let you go and you feel a warmth creep over you. 

“Ahw, bonnie, we couldn’t let you go home on your own. Let us take you home,” Johnny chimes in, soft smile and kind eyes that hold a hint of something else in them. You swallow, looking between each of them. Your gaze lingers on Ghost for a while, noticing the man’s eyes had almost never left you.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s go. It’s not a far walk,” you reply, biting your lip at the reckless decision. These men could be serial killers and you were just inviting them to know exactly where you live. “Why don’t you let Johnny and Ghost take you home? Kyle and I can follow in our truck so they’re not stuck walking back here,” John offers, a warm smile curling up the thick mustache. 

At this point, you’re ready for bed and just want to get home. “Sounds good to me,” you reply though the words are manipulated by a yawn. All of you shuffle out of the round booth, both Kyle and John kissing the top of your head like they’d known you for years before disappearing out the door. You wrap your jacket around you again, pulling the zipper together over your belly and getting a little frustrated when it gets caught up on your shirt. 

“Lemme,” Ghost grumbled, stepping up to you and taking hold of the jammed zipper. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night and it almost stuns you how deep and growly it is. Your breath hitches as he grabs the zipper, yanking on it and subsequently making your breasts bounce as he accidentally pushes against them. He gets it undone and you mutter a bashful ‘thanks’ before turning on your heel as you finish zipping it up to your throat.

You know they’re meant to be escorting you home, but you’re out the door so fast the two men have to jog to catch up. Johnny’s arm wraps around your waist, fingers pressing into the pudge of your stomach in a way that makes you want to shrivel up. You don’t like anyone touching your stomach, but you’re warring with yourself on whether or not to move his hand, to show that kind of discomfort in front of these men. 

You choose to do so anyway, wrapping your fingers around his and lifting his arm up over your head and ducking under it, dropping it at his side. Johnny looks down at you with a furrowed brow. “Don’ like it when people touch you, do you?” he asks as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look bothered that you’d removed his arm, but your anxiety rears its ugly head and makes you worried you’d offended him. 

“It’s not that I don’t like being touched. It-It’s…complicated. I-I don’t want to talk about it,” you manage to stammer out before picking up your speed. It’s not like you’re going to shake off your two guard dogs whose legs are easily longer than yours by several inches, but you take off anyways. 

When your building finally comes into view, you slow your pace and breathe a soft sigh of relief. Your bed was so close, just a few more yards and you could get rid of the guard dogs and curl up in bed. “Well, this is me. Thanks for bringing me home. I really appreciate it.” You were grateful that they’d walked you home. It wasn’t safe this time of night to be wandering around in this part of town. 

“We’re walking you to your door, bonnie. Wouldn’t want someone to snatch you up between here and there,” Johnny stated, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the scent of him, warm and tingly to the nose like oranges and nutmeg, but you shook your head and backed up to the door of your building. “There’s really no need. My neighbors are great.” Lie. Absolute fucking lie. Nestor at the end of the hall on the first floor would, no questions asked, rip you from the hallway if he saw you alone. A chill went down your spine and you conceded the moment you looked into Ghost’s eyes. You didn’t have a choice if they were escorting you all the way up. 

You turned and opened the door to the building, looking down the hall to make sure Nestor was in his apartment before slipping in and letting the boys in behind you. You headed to the elevator and punched the up arrow, biting your lip as you tried not to wither under the intense stare of the man in the mask. The elevator had been the selling point for you. It was the only place within your budget that had an elevator and you weren’t about to walk up five flights of stairs multiple times a day. 

The lift dinged and you stepped inside, Ghost and Johnny slipping in behind you just to stand with their bodies pressed against your back. Unintentionally, you leaned into them before your eyes widened at your own movement and you straightened so your body pulled away slightly.

The doors dinged and opened allowing you to step out onto your floor. You headed to your unit, digging for your keys in your purse. With a ‘aha!’, you pulled them out and shoved the key into the doorknob, unlocking it. “Would you guys like to come in? I might have some whiskey left?” you offer, turning to look at them. You didn’t know why you were inviting them in, but the sense of safety you had around them had you desperate for them to stay. 

“Sure, lemme text Price and Kyle where to come. Go on in, Si-Ghost. I’ll come in in a minute,” Johnny stated, already pulling his phone out and going to stand next to the window at the end of the hall. You opened the door and allowed Ghost in, leaving it unlocked so the others could join once they arrived. 

Heading into your kitchen, you stood up on your tippy toes, reaching up so you could pull out five of your good glasses. You were looking for the last one, but it was just out of your reach. Suddenly, you felt what could only be Ghost against your back, pressing you against the counter as he leaned over you to grab the glass. 

The heat of him against your back has your thighs clenching together while you watch his thick digits wrap around the glass and you wonder briefly what they’d feel like inside you. He takes a step back once he has the cup and holds it out to you. 

You turn back to him while trying to fight off the blush coloring your cheeks. You murmur a thanks and wrap your own fingers around the glass. 

Of course, that would be when the other three burst loudly through the door.

I wasn't intending for this to become a whole story, but it's really stuck with me over the last week or so.

<- Part Three Part Five ->

[crumb]

It’s shit like this that makes me want to stop making gifsets. People love taking the gifs we spent hours sourcing the best footage for, editing, color correcting, and any other numerous types of altering or adding graphics and text—and then they just rip them off, don’t credit, and they act like we’re insane for asking that you at the bare minimum credit us. “You have nothing to gain and you didn’t create saw” do any of you understand how art works? Understand what fan works are? Most art is created with no intention of gaining anything except enjoyment and community. What do YOU gain from ripping off people’s gifs? Why even post on tumblr at all? Because it’s fun and you get to be apart of a community? Wow, what a concept. It’s almost like people make gifs to express their creativity and love for something and want to share it with others. Wanting credit for that work, which is honestly just basic decency, shouldn’t be that difficult to wrap your head around. And the hilarious part is they have one of my other gifsets pinned to their main blog.

Also, if I could get rich and famous from making gifsets do you think I’d be gif’ing some of the stuff I do? Yeah, my gifset of Cougars Inc is really gonna take me places!

[trans-axolotl]

"Much ink has already been spilled on Harris’s prosecutorial background. What is significant about the topic of sex work is how recently the vice president–elect’s actions contradicted her alleged views. During her tenure as AG, she led a campaign to shut down Backpage, a classified advertising website frequently used by sex workers, calling it “the world’s top online brothel” in 2016 and claiming that the site made “millions of dollars from trafficking.” While Backpage did make millions off of sex work ads, its “adult services” listings offered a safer and more transparent platform for sex workers and their clients to conduct consensual transactions than had historically been available. Harris’s grandiose mischaracterization led to a Senate investigation, and the shuttering of the site by the FBI in 2018.

“Backpage being gone has devastated our community,” said Andrews. The platform allowed sex workers to work more safely: They were able to vet clients and promote their services online. “It’s very heartbreaking to see the fallout,” said dominatrix Yevgeniya Ivanyutenko. “A lot of people lost their ability to safely make a living. A lot of people were forced to go on the street or do other things that they wouldn’t have otherwise considered.” M.F. Akynos, the founder and executive director of the Black Sex Worker Collective, thinks Harris should “apologize to the community. She needs to admit that she really fucked up with Backpage, and really ruined a lot of people’s lives.”

After Harris became a senator, she cosponsored the now-infamous Stop Enabling Sex Traffickers Act (SESTA), which—along with the House’s Allow States and Victims to Fight Online Sex Trafficking Act (FOSTA)—was signed into law by President Trump in 2018. FOSTA-SESTA created a loophole in Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, the so-called “safe harbor” provision that allows websites to be free from liability for user-generated content (e.g., Amazon reviews, Craigslist ads). The Electronic Frontier Foundation argues that Section 230 is the backbone of the Internet, calling it “the most important law protecting internet free speech.” Now, website publishers are liable if third parties post sex-work ads on their platforms.

That spelled the end of any number of platforms—mostly famously Craigslist’s “personal encounters” section—that sex workers used to vet prospective clients, leaving an already vulnerable workforce even more exposed. (The Woodhull Freedom Foundation has filed a lawsuit challenging FOSTA on First Amendment grounds; in January 2020, it won an appeal in D.C.’s district court).

“I sent a bunch of stats [to Harris and Senator Diane Feinstein] about decriminalization and how much SESTA-FOSTA would hurt American sex workers and open them up to violence,” said Cara (a pseudonym), who was working as a sex worker in the San Francisco and a member of SWOP when the bill passed. Both senators ignored her.

The bill both demonstrably harmed sex workers and failed to drop sex trafficking. “Within one month of FOSTA’s enactment, 13 sex workers were reported missing, and two were dead from suicide,” wrote Lura Chamberlain in her Fordham Law Review article “FOSTA: A Hostile Law with a Human Cost.” “Sex workers operating independently faced a tremendous and immediate uptick in unwanted solicitation from individuals offering or demanding to traffic them. Numerous others were raped, assaulted, and rendered homeless or unable to feed their children.” A 2020 survey of the effects of FOSTA-SESTA found that “99% of online respondents reported that this law does not make them feel safer” and 80.61 percent “say they are now facing difficulties advertising their services.” "

-What Sex Workers Want Kamala Harris to Know by Hallie Liberman

[studioeisa]

“it's not like i'm in love with you or anything.” with our anti delulu king minghao for the prompt game! (def not spurred on by his recent fancalls he’s sleeping outside)

ⵌ minghao x reader. ⵌ word count: 1.2k ⵌ notes: minghao & reader are friends, feelings realization/denial. recent fan calls have also driven me insane. :)

"I need you to teach me how to flirt."

You glance up from your phone to fix Minghao with an unamused glare. He doesn't back down— just stands in your entryway with a mildly annoyed expression.

"You know how to flirt just fine," you say, one eyebrow rising to communicate your skepticism. "What do you need me for?"

"I'm not convincing enough," he gripes as he moves further into your apartment.

It takes him only a couple of strides to reach you at your dining table. With a disgruntled huff, he collapses onto the chair next to you. "At least that's what the company says," he grumbles. "I'm— what's the word? Too detached or something."

You lock your phone with a sigh. This was shaping up to be a whole thing, it seems. "Isn't that your charm?" you muse aloud. "The one member who's not flirtatious and all that."

"Yeah, well, nonchalance doesn't sell," he shoots back. "But delusion does."

An involuntary snort of laughter escapes you. "Got me there."

For a moment, neither of you say anything. You only eye Minghao with amusement as he flops his head on to your table, dramatic as ever in his griping.

"Why me, though?" you ask suddenly.

He peeks up at you. "Hm?"

"Why are you asking me for help?"

Minghao must have noticed the slight narrowing of your eyes, the upturn of your lips, because he quickly straightens up in his seat. "It's not like I'm in love with you or anything," he says hastily, putting up his hands in front of him. "Oh, God no. I'm not in love with you."

"No need to sound so disgusted at the prospect, Hao." Your tone is just a little bit dry, perhaps even a touch offended.

He shoots you a tight smile in return. "I just—" Even though it's only the two of you in your apartment, he lowers his voice into an almost conspiratorial tone, like he's sharing a secret. You have to strain your ears to hear his next words. "I just trust you, you know? Trust that you'd help."

Ah.

Minghao always did know how to get you.

That's how the two of you end up sitting across from each other in some obscure, middle-of-nowhere café, as per Minghao's choice. He had sent you a Google Calendar invitation for this little escapade, and its title remains apt: Operation: Teach Minghao How to Flirt.

At least he has the decency to treat you to coffee. You toy with the paper wrapping of your straw as you eye Minghao with mild apprehension.

"Alright," you say. "Let's do this."

He squares his shoulders like a man heading to war. "Let's do this," he echoes.

A beat.

Then, he asks— "How are we supposed to do this?"

You resist the urge to faceplant on to the table between you. "Maybe— we can pretend that you're on a fan call," you offer.

"Okay, yeah. Yeah. That works."

A part of you finds it adorable, how dedicated Minghao is to the bit. He pulls himself to his full height in his seat before putting on a practiced smile, the type that you've seen him sport dozens of times.

"How was your day?" he acts coolly, putting on what you've dubbed to be his 'idol voice'. A specific tone and inflection that he takes on when doing fanservice.

You sip at your drink before answering. "Better now that I'm talking to Minghao gege," you respond, and it immediately looks like all the color has drained from Minghao's face.

"Yah," he chokes out. "Why are you—"

"What? Your fans are going to flirt back. You have to build resistance to it," you shoot back.

Minghao lets out a low 'tsk' of annoyance before briefly running his hand through his face. The absentminded action seems to ease some of his initial shock because he takes a deep breath, pulls the smile right back on, and proceeds to hit you with, "Is that so? Well, this is my favorite part of the day, too."

You give a small nod of your head, indicating some approval to his improved response.

"What else did you do today, gege?" you ask casually, intentionally giving Minghao an opening.

He goes right for it. "Waited impatiently until I could meet with you."

A corner of your mouth twitches upward. 'Good,' you mouth at Minghao, and he relaxes a little in his seat.

"I'm so happy to be here," you go on. "You're my bias."

"And you're my…"

Minghao trails off. He hesitates for a moment too long, and you can't help but chuckle slightly.

"Not every sentence has to be a flirtation," you tell him. "Just— time it, I guess. Go for the jugular when they least expect it."

"You make it sound so violent," he complains, but his eyebrows are drawn together in a way that shows he's committing your words to memory.

You backtrack a bit for his sake. "So, gege—" There's still a flicker of an expression on Minghao's face, like the term genuinely affects him. It's gone as fast as it came, leaving you wondering if you had imagined it. "— can you tell me you love me?"

"Must I?"

"Minghao."

"Right, sorry."

Minghao clears his throat and schools his expression into something more acceptable. "I love you," he says, though it's evident from the look in his eyes that he's saying it out of pure indulgence.

You knock his knee with yours under the table. He returns the gesture good-naturedly.

"How much do you love me?" you insist, leaning forward slightly.

Panic briefly crosses Minghao's face. You bite down on your lower lip to keep yourself from laughing out loud, and the sight of you holding down giggles only seems to spur him on.

He casts a quick glance around the table, as if looking for the answer to your question in the straws or the cups.

"I love you like coffee," he decides.

Minghao's gaze moves from the iced americano in his hand up to your face. When your eyes meet, he doesn't look away, instead going on in a quiet, earnest tone, "Bitter or sweet, cold or lukewarm— you're the reason I get up in the morning."

You blink once, then twice.

You hadn't expected to be stunned by the sheer sincerity in his tone. The open ways he's gazing at you. You can't tell if his 'idol voice' has slipped or if you're simply caught off-guard by the rarity that is Xu Minghao flirting, but for a foolish moment, you feel a pang of jealousy.

Jealousy for fans that will reap the benefits of this little escapade. Jealousy for those who will receive his practiced charm.

You snap out of your reverie with a breathless sort of laugh.

"See?" you say, your hands gripping your cup a little tighter to your chest. "You got it."

There it is again. That fleeting look on Minghao's face, the one you can't quite place.

"Yeah," he eventually mumbles, his eyes never leaving yours. "Only because you make it easy."

୨ৎ * GAME, SET, PLAY ! ( JEALOUSY ) DRABBLE GAME.

[anantaru]

"gimme a kiss here,"

wriothesley points at his cheek, index finger catching the flustered flesh and wriggling for more, "and here," he adds promptly, a crystal clear image portrayed in front of your eyes as to what the duke sought after before eagerly pointing at his forehead next, "and here," lastly, he finishes his deepest sentencing, pointing at his mouth.

"point taken," you retort back, adding in a pet name just to see how flustered wriothesley could get from it, his throat working around a deep swallow as he sucks in a breath when you call him baby, the warm breeze fanning against your slightly parted lips.

with the last word lingering in the air, you remember that wriothesley liked to play the tough one and he certainly enjoyed the feeling of other people being reluctant to approach him, given that he was of influential power, although currently, he was not in such a position. 

he's swift when he melts against your lips, humming in a pleased timbre when you gave him what he longed for all day long— and wriothesley whines next, such a rare noise, as if that was an effective way of communicating with you, a silent more muffled by your hungry lips devouring each other— but the sound of the small sobs and heavy breathes coming from your person were a heavenly melody to him, his mouth curling into a cheeky smile when he pinches your hips as to pull you on his lap.

with that sudden act, you're straddling the duke, your arms wrapped around his neck as you continue with your sweet ministrations, bringing your lips together in another heated kiss and lapping your tongue against his wet muscle while the rough material of your panties and his tight pants clash together— the small tingles you could gather on your core slither around you, almost like a gentle sloping cloud in the sky manifesting a curl of pleasure, the sheer impact of it all trailing down the expanse of your spine.

and when wriothesley notices your sudden weakness— compelled how your hips have gone rogue and stutter from lack of control, he figures there wasn't necessarily a point in stopping those additional movements, in fact, he'd love to help you out, the rhythm of your clothed cunt rolling across his length let lose between a heart-beat as your boyfriend decides to harshly drag you against him instead.

together you're breathing deeply before he presses you into his stiffened groin— the movement of it so sudden that you weren't able to voice anything at all and were forced out a crumbling whine, catching you off guard as you part your mouth ever so slightly which allowed wriothesley to demand entrance again— immediately taking the candied chance to let his tongue slide inside your mouth with ease, pressing and mingling the two together. 

he gives your hips a few more tugs, focusing that you're nudging your wet panties over his length and that his thick cock-head could poke at your concealed entrance, shoving back an impatient growl all the while rubbing circles on your thighs with his index fingers to soothe you.

soft lips tease you through the thin skin on your neck and you wet the pale grey fabric of his pants beyond decency, placing an insufferable quiver of need through his throbbing shaft followed by a sharp grin leaving you gasping and squirming— both of you distracted against drenched clothes, swollen lips soaked with saliva and your unravelling bodies working ethusiastically with quick, lascivious grinds of your hips and wriothesley bottoming out ever so often, dragging you rapidly to the utter brink of release.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[grecoromanyaoi]

i think the whole "~bad people~ deserve ~bad things~" mentality has lead to a lot of misinformation, dehumanization, infantilization n straight up historical revisionism in progressive spaces. bc they then feel the need to treat marginalized individuals and communities as perfect, harmless *things*, in order to explain why they dont "deserve" oppression. it cant be because oppression isnt something you can "deserve". its not a punishment. so they act like most lesbians actually loveeeee trans women (and ignore how that hasnt been the case, neither historically or in the present), how people from the southern us arent *actually* racist, its just misconceptions, how religious jews and muslims actually respect and uplift women, how every colonized culture on earth actually respects gay and trans people, its all just colonialist propaganda, how (culture/group) re actually not at all antisemitic, its just what They want you to think. theyre trying to help by spreading around idealized, almost orientalist notions about marginalized communities. but when has that ever helped anyone? marginalized individuals and groups can never "deserve" oppression, colonialism, genocide, because they are human. your desire to punish "the bad guys" has come before your human decency. you dont work towards equal, peaceful, and full lives for everyone on earth, youre just searching for a group you can "justifiably" enact violence against. youre not even acting against oppression, youre just erasing the experiences and making it harder for marginalized people from these communities.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

Whb nobles reacting to their ship coming true

When Paimon finds out that you're in a relationship with Satan, he squeels. He's not one to rub salt on the wounds of others (not often at least), but he would make a few posts goating about being right all along. Starts making plans for the wedding since that's the only reasonable step forward. Whenever you're not with Satan, you're with Paimon on a self-care/gossip day. He's very happy that his wingman act wasn't in vaine.

Eligos throws a party and he invites the entirety of Hell over. He has no decency, he would spam all the shipping forums with photos of you and Mammon. Don't bother reporting it for spam, he has 500 alt accounts. He personally sews you and Mammon's clothes for the party. The costumes look like that of people getting married, but Eligos doesn't see what the problem is. He gets into a fist fight with everyone that disaggred with him on the forums. Bimet is in the back betting on who wins the fist fight.

Foras' squeel is so high pichted that Hades will get noise complaints from Naberius about it. He is very happy to say the least. He will turn invisible and spy on you and Leviathan being cute together like a proud father. The relationship between you and his king is like his personal child, and he can't wait to watch it grow further. Finally mod Jjok has a free day without any complaints of doxxing.

When Amon gets the news, he's not even surprised. He always was under the impression that you and Beelzebub were dating (that's why he didn't persue you himself) so this is old news to him. Would invite himself to all your dates with Beelzebub so he can protect the two of you... as in get free food and be near his king. He'll be a lot more energetic after the fact, so much so that he might make a few visits to the people that still ship you with anyone else. After all, they are going against Avisos' one law, they must be punished in some way.

Gamigin gets so excited that he starts screaming and crying. Might even puke from excitement. He is the happiest out of all of the shippers. Finally, his brother Lucifer found someone that loves him as much as he loves them. This is the happiest day of his life and he can't stop crying while hugging the two of you. Would start calling you sibling MC and invite you to all the communal dinners in Paradise Lost. Would insist you call him and everyone in the country brother or sister. You're now part of the Paradise Lost familly and you'll be treated as such.

[ethereal555]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.

angst x jobe bellingham.

You’ve never seen Jobe act this way before. We had just finished our dinner at Hakkasan which started off lovely; you'd both missed each other to bits. It started when Jobe expressed his confusion about the amount our waiter spoke to me, the way in which he spoke and looked at me and definetly didnt like the fact I was slighly enthusiatic in return when the mans questions regarding my profession. And no matter how many times i'd tell Jobe, that 'it's common decency' it fell upon deaf ears every time.

In situations such as these which occured often, he'd be a baby about it and whine about how all the men we come across were always infactuated with me and how it wasn't fair because I am his and his only. Or he'd tell me to be more blunt and harsh in my rejections. At least he was communicating with me..

But this time, it was an intense silence on the way back home, a silence that left your mind unsettled.

-

You both made your way back to his black Audi. Your gaze frequently shifting from the side profile and then to the floor as you internally prepared yourself to rectify this issue before it got out of hand.

Your gaze landed on Jobe again only to see his sharp jawline prominent due to the extent of which he was tensing it. Tensed hard enough to break glass. You also noticed his walking pace quickening by the second, another telling sign of the volcanic eruption brewing within him.

“J, you’re going too fast can you hold my hand please?” you whined. You knew he wasn’t in the mood for that and definitely had other things on his mind but he did it anyway reaching his long arm back and in doing so not sparing me a glance. Your rolled your eyes, hard.

You latched onto his hand making your way back to the car at a decent speed this time. Thank God.

Everytime you both were at a social event, there would always be an odd circunstance that occurs leaving one of you jealous, disheartened or upset. Jobe was the usual culprit; you had told your man for what felt like the uptenneth times that you were an attractive girl, men were bound to stop and stare and wink and do whatever they desired and the same applied to him. But you also told him, there would never be any reciprocation from your side; which you expected him to trust. Simply saying thank you to compliments would suffice. Just common decency that you'd been taught growing up- it wasn't going to change. It baffled you as you'd never given him any slack throughout your 3 year relationship about any of the thousands of fangirls that were overbearring and desperate around him. You trusted him, and you were secure.

This time, you think it hit harder for him because it was supposed to be an especially romantic date; as you both had been apart for 5 months in different countries for work purposes - so you did sympathize slightly.

You halt in your tracks, consequently making Jobe's walking stop. He looks back at you, unimpressed. You smile at him sweetly, leaning up to kiss his mouth. 'Please don't be mad at me. Baby, I've missed you so much and I want us spend quality time tonight. I really enjoyed dinner and I want to enjoy.. you later.' you whine as you pepper wet kisses over his jawline and neck. Hoping he'd leave this atttitude in the resturant and not bring it home with us.

You see his adam's apple move up and down, he beckons with his head 'Get in the car, Tee', pushing at your waist.

You both get to the car, and to your surprise he doesn’t open the door for you, like he usually does. He goes straight to the drivers seat and sits.

You scoff entering from your side of the car, slamming it shut once you were in.

“Listen Jobe. Bellingham. Don’t let your jealousy get you fucked up. I don’t give a toss if you're pissed , especially because of how stupid it is. You’re still my man. So act right.” You scold mushing his head with your index and middle finger.

He moves his head away from your hands.

“Stop - don’t touch meh or ya walking home, crazy girl”

“Get the lad in 'er to rush over and open the door for ya, and 'em lads you like to entertain. Desperate” He said gesturing towards the waiter who was now serving some guests who were seated outside.

You look at him dumbfounded. Mouth wide open.

'I could.. Jobe.. i could spit on your right now, how dare you..?'.

'Try it' he dares, an inferno arising in his chest.

“Y-You're really upset because I was being a decent human being. You’re a child you know that right? and you're fucking childish and immature and direspectful as fuck” you spat.

“That’s great actually - fucking brilliant - because I’d rather be a child than be a fucking flirt that hasn’t a self aware bone in their body” he humours, driving out of the parking lot.

It felt like your heart dropped.

“A flirt? When did I flirt?” I questioned hysterically. I understand Jobe was jealous , and had those tendencies, but to say I was entertaining another man was absurd and not in my character.

You start to shake your feet, attempting to distract yourself from this recongizable feeling. The heat you felt rising from your chest racing toward your throat, your cheeks burning and your eyes stinging. No, you thought, I'm not giving him the satisfaction.

'Stop the car', you cry. Struggling to get your phone our of your back, that was placed by your feet and underneath the dashboard.

Your voice betraying you.

'N-now, Jobe, I can't anymore' you shake your head continously.

'Ya can't do what?", his face softeneing for this first time as he briefly turns to look at you. He pulls into a side road and removes his seatbelt turning to face you. Rubbing his hands over his face as if I was the one stressing him out.

You chuckle bitterly 'that's the only thing you've listened to, this whole ride', your vision and your thoughts become blurry so you carefully remove the accumulated tears from your eyes as you try and call an uber, not wanting to pull any of your clusters out.

Jobe cradles your face when his left hand, you react as if his hand was a bowl of scorthching hot oil.

'If ya must ya can call the uber later, just look at me'.

You knew he hated to see you cry, that was his kryptonite, no matter how bad the arguement is.

His right had catches your other cheek until he has encaptured the entirety of your face within his palms. He stares, looking deep into your eyes, for what felt like minutes. maybe searching for words to say, accountability maybe.. you anticipated an apology ..

“Ya do this all the time me love.."

'what jobe, what i do?' you croak

'ya cry when I tell ya the truth, baby, ya know I don’t lie', he pecks the corner of your lips.

You break away and look at him through your now damp lash clusters and teary eyes.

my man my man my mf man

'make up your mind' - chris brown inspo kinda

i hate a nigga that doesnt take accountability btw.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dirty words are politically potent

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

Making up words is a perfectly cromulent passtime, and while most of the words we coin disappear as soon as they fall from our lips, every now and again, you find a word that fits so nice and kentucky in the public discourse that it acquires a life of its own:

http://meaningofliff.free.fr/definition.php3?word=Kentucky

I've been trying to increase the salience of digital human rights in the public imagination for a quarter of a century, starting with the campaign to get people to appreciate that the internet matters, and that tech policy isn't just the delusion that the governance of spaces where sad nerds argue about Star Trek is somehow relevant to human thriving:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/10/04/small-change-malcolm-gladwell

Now, eventually people figured out that a) the internet mattered and, b) it was going dreadfully wrong. So my job changed again, from "how the internet is governed matters" to "you can't fix the internet with wishful thinking," for example, when people said we could solve its problems by banning general purpose computers:

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

Or by banning working cryptography:

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/09/04/oh-for-fucks-sake-not-this-fucking-bullshit-again-cryptography-edition/

Or by redesigning web browsers to treat their owners as threats:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

Or by using bots to filter every public utterance to ensure that they don't infringe copyright:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/09/today-europe-lost-internet-now-we-fight-back

Or by forcing platforms to surveil and police their users' speech (aka "getting rid of Section 230"):

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

Along the way, many of us have coined words in a bid to encapsulate the abstract, technical ideas at the core of these arguments. This isn't a vanity project! Creating a common vocabulary is a necessary precondition for having the substantive, vital debates we'll need to tackle the real, thorny issues raised by digital systems. So there's "free software," "open source," "filternet," "chat control," "back doors," and my own contributions, like "adversarial interoperability":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

Or "Competitive Compatibility" ("comcom"), a less-intimidatingly technical term for the same thing:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/12/competitive-compatibility-year-review

These have all found their own niches, but nearly all of them are just that: niche. Some don't even rise to "niche": they're shibboleths, insider terms that confuse and intimidate normies and distract from the real fights with semantic ones, like whether it's "FOSS" or "FLOSS" or something else entirely:

https://opensource.stackexchange.com/questions/262/what-is-the-difference-between-foss-and-floss

But every now and again, you get a word that just kills. That brings me to "enshittification," a word I coined in 2022:

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

"Enshittification" took root in my hindbrain, rolling around and around, agglomerating lots of different thoughts and critiques I'd been making for years, crystallizing them into a coherent thesis:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

This kind of spontaneous crystallization is the dividend of doing lots of work in public, trying to take every half-formed thought and pin it down in public writing, something I've been doing for decades:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

After those first couple articles, "enshittification" raced around the internet. There's two reasons for this: first, "enshittification" is a naughty word that's fun to say. Journalists love getting to put "shit" in their copy:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/01/15/crosswords/linguistics-word-of-the-year.html

Radio journalists love to tweak the FCC with cheekily bleeped syllables in slightly dirty compound words:

https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/projects/enshitification

And nothing enlivens an academic's day like getting to use a word like "enshittification" in a journal article (doubtless this also amuses the editors, peer-reviewers, copyeditors, typesetters, etc):

https://scholar.google.com/scholar?hl=en&as_sdt=0%2C5&q=enshittification&btnG=&oq=ensh

That was where I started, too! The first time I used "enshittification" was in a throwaway bad-tempered rant about the decay of Tripadvisor into utter uselessness, which drew a small chorus of appreciative chuckles about the word:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1550457808222552065

The word rattled around my mind for five months before attaching itself to my detailed theory of platform decay. But it was that detailed critique, coupled with a minor license to swear, that gave "enshittification" a life of its own. How do I know that the theory was as important as the swearing? Because the small wave of amusement that followed my first use of "enshittification" petered out in less than a day. It was only when I added the theory that the word took hold.

Likewise: how do I know that the theory needed to be blended with swearing to break out of the esoteric realm of tech policy debates (which the public had roundly ignored for more than two decades)? Well, because I spent two decades writing about this stuff without making anything like the dents that appeared once I added an Anglo-Saxon monosyllable to that critique.

Adding "enshittification" to the critique got me more column inches, a longer hearing, a more vibrant debate, than anything else I'd tried. First, Wired availed itself of the Creative Commons license on my second long-form article on the subject and reprinted it as a 4,200-word feature. I've been writing for Wired for more than thirty years and this is by far the longest thing I've published with them – a big, roomy, discursive piece that was run verbatim, with every one of my cherished darlings unmurdered.

That gave the word – and the whole critique, with all its spiky corners – a global airing, leading to more pickup and discussion. Eventually, the American Dialect Society named it their "Word of the Year" (and their "Tech Word of the Year"):

https://americandialect.org/2023-word-of-the-year-is-enshittification/

"Enshittification" turns out to be catnip for language nerds:

https://becauselanguage.com/90-enpoopification/#transcript-60

I've been dragged into (good natured) fights over the German, Spanish, French and Italian translations for the term. When I taped an NPR show before a live audience with ASL interpretation, I got to watch a Deaf fan politely inform the interpreter that she didn't need to finger-spell "enshittification," because it had already been given an ASL sign by the US Deaf community:

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/go-fact-yourself/ep-158-aida-rodriguez-cory-doctorow/

I gave a speech about enshittification in Berlin and published the transcript:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

Which prompted the rock-ribbed Financial Times to get in touch with me and publish the speech – again, nearly verbatim – as a whopping 6,400 word feature in their weekend magazine:

https://www.ft.com/content/6fb1602d-a08b-4a8c-bac0-047b7d64aba5

Though they could have had it for free (just as Wired had), they insisted on paying me (very well, as it happens!), as did De Zeit:

https://www.zeit.de/digital/internet/2024-03/plattformen-facebook-google-internet-cory-doctorow

This was the start of the rise of enshittification. The word is spreading farther than ever, in ways that I have nothing to do with, along with the critique I hung on it. In other words, the bit of string that tech policy wonks have been pushing on for a quarter of a century is actually starting to move, and it's actually accelerating.

Despite this (or more likely because of it), there's a growing chorus of "concerned" people who say they like the critique but fret that it is being held back because you can't use it "at church or when talking to K-12 students" (my favorite variant: "I couldn't say this at a NATO conference"). I leave it up to you whether you use the word with your K-12 students, NATO generals, or fellow parishoners (though I assure you that all three groups are conversant with the dirty little word at the root of my coinage). If you don't want to use "enshittification," you can coin your own word – or just use one of the dozens of words that failed to gain public attention over the past 25 years (might I suggest "platform decay?").

What's so funny about all this pearl-clutching is that it comes from people who universally profess to have the intestinal fortitude to hear the word "enshittification" without experiencing psychological trauma, but worry that other people might not be so strong-minded. They continue to say this even as the most conservative officials in the most staid of exalted forums use the word without a hint of embarrassment, much less apology:

https://www.independent.ie/business/technology/chairman-of-irish-social-media-regulator-says-europe-should-not-be-seduced-by-mario-draghis-claims/a526530600.html

I mean, I'm giving a speech on enshittification next month at a conference where I'm opening for the Secretary General of the United Nations:

https://icanewdelhi2024.coop/welcome/pages/Programme

After spending half my life trying to get stuff like this into the discourse, I've developed some hard-won, informed views on how ideas succeed:

First: the minor obscenity is a feature, not a bug. The marriage of something long and serious to something short and funny is a happy one that makes both the word and the ideas better off than they'd be on their own. As Lenny Bruce wrote in his canonical work in the subject, the aptly named How to Talk Dirty and Influence People:

I want to help you if you have a dirty-word problem. There are none, and I'll spell it out logically to you.

Here is a toilet. Specifically-that's all we're concerned with, specifics-if I can tell you a dirty toilet joke, we must have a dirty toilet. That's what we're all talking about, a toilet. If we take this toilet and boil it and it's clean, I can never tell you specifically a dirty toilet joke about this toilet. I can tell you a dirty toilet joke in the Milner Hotel, or something like that, but this toilet is a clean toilet now. Obscenity is a human manifestation. This toilet has no central nervous system, no level of consciousness. It is not aware; it is a dumb toilet; it cannot be obscene; it's impossible. If it could be obscene, it could be cranky, it could be a Communist toilet, a traitorous toilet. It can do none of these things. This is a dirty toilet here.

Nobody can offend you by telling a dirty toilet story. They can offend you because it's trite; you've heard it many, many times.

https://www.dacapopress.com/titles/lenny-bruce/how-to-talk-dirty-and-influence-people/9780306825309/

Second: the fact that a neologism is sometimes decoupled from its theoretical underpinnings and is used colloquially is a feature, not a bug. Many people apply the term "enshittification" very loosely indeed, to mean "something that is bad," without bothering to learn – or apply – the theoretical framework. This is good. This is what it means for a term to enter the lexicon: it takes on a life of its own. If 10,000,000 people use "enshittification" loosely and inspire 10% of their number to look up the longer, more theoretical work I've done on it, that is one million normies who have been sucked into a discourse that used to live exclusively in the world of the most wonkish and obscure practitioners. The only way to maintain a precise, theoretically grounded use of a term is to confine its usage to a small group of largely irrelevant insiders. Policing the use of "enshittification" is worse than a self-limiting move – it would be a self-inflicted wound. As I said in that Berlin speech:

Enshittification names the problem and proposes a solution. It's not just a way to say 'things are getting worse' (though of course, it's fine with me if you want to use it that way. It's an English word. We don't have der Rat für englische Rechtschreibung. English is a free for all. Go nuts, meine Kerle).

Finally: "coinage" is both more – and less – than thinking of the word. After the American Dialect Society gave honors to "enshittification," a few people slid into my mentions with citations to "enshittification" that preceded my usage. I find this completely unsurprising, because English is such a slippery and playful tongue, because English speakers love to swear, and because infixing is such a fun way to swear (e.g. "unfuckingbelievable"). But of course, I hadn't encountered any of those other usages before I came up with the word independently, nor had any of those other usages spread appreciably beyond the speaker (it appears that each of the handful of predecessors to my usage represents an act of independent coinage).

If "coinage" was just a matter of thinking up the word, you could write a small python script that infixed the word "shit" into every syllable of every word in the OED, publish the resulting text file, and declare priority over all subsequent inventive swearers.

On the one hand, coinage takes place when the coiner a) independently invents a word; and b) creates the context for that word that causes it to escape from the coiner's immediate milieu and into the wider world.

But on the other hand – and far more importantly – the fact that a successful coinage requires popular uptake by people unknown to the coiner means that the coiner only ever plays a small role in the coinage. Yes, there would be no popularization without the coinage – but there would also be no coinage without the popularization. Words belong to groups of speakers, not individuals. Language is a cultural phenomenon, not an individual one.

Which is rather the point, isn't it? After a quarter of a century of being part of a community that fought tirelessly to get a serious and widespread consideration of tech policy underway, we're closer than ever, thanks, in part, to "enshittification." If someone else independently used that word before me, if some people use the word loosely, if the word makes some people uncomfortable, that's fine, provided that the word is doing what I want it to do, what I've devoted my life to doing.

The point of coining words isn't the pilkunnussija's obsession with precise usage, nor the petty glory of being known as a coiner, nor ensuring that NATO generals' virgin ears are protected from the word "shit" – a word that, incidentally, is also the root of "science":

https://www.arrantpedantry.com/2019/01/24/science-and-shit/

Isn't language fun?

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

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/14/pearl-clutching/#this-toilet-has-no-central-nervous-system