#did i thoroughly enjoy what we did get? also yes

[wolf-in-a-trenchcoat]

@hobartsaglet wanted me to tell you about the color ramble lol

So, this actually reminds me of two sets of media I thoroughly enjoyed that has a similar thing- Megamind and Our Flag Means Death. In Megamind, we see Roxanne going from red to blue throughout the movie- thus signifying her relationship developing with Bernard!Megamind- and then turning to purple when they "break up", and lastly back to blue when she finally gets back together with Megamind in the end.

In Our Flag, Ed wears purple the closer he gets with Stede- same goes for how he wears fingerless gloves in the beginning to show that he's hiding most of himself except for the bits he wants people to see, then goes gloveless when he and Stede become super close, then full gloves in S2 for various plot reasons that may be spoilers. Fuckin love that show-

Anyways, back to the actual topic.

If you pay really close attention to Bilbo AND Thorin's attire during the journey, you'll see that as Bilbo becomes closer to Thorin, he ditches the reds and oranges and starts wearing blue- specifically Durin's blue.

Like THE family blue.

And it's not even that noticeable he does it. It actually took me a while to notice it myself, a second watch, AND looking through the costume designs. Like, yeah, we know that he'd end up wearing something warmer when the winter months come, but they obviously had various colors they could've used- Thorin wears a brown fit after Lake-Town, and everyone has their own colors...

But Bilbo specifically has Durin's blue. That is the shade it's called.

And BOTFA would be where we'd see the peak of their relationship- Bilbo is supposedly the only one at the time able to reach through the gold-sickness and get to Thorin. We see it during the acorn scene (a whole other rant) and when Thorin gives him the mithril shirt (also another whole ass rant). He trusts and has such a deep fondness for Bilbo even through the sickness.

It makes you think, when you take the colors into consideration. Bilbo wore very warm colors when we first and last see him. And yes, I mean the gear he had when he goes back home.

Bet you didn't expect me to bring that up, did you?? (Yeah, same- @hobartsaglet had to hear that rant for... 3 is hours on call? Sorry man haha-)

When he heads back to Bag End after talking to Balin and the remaining Company, if you pay really close attention, he's back to wearing red. Thorin is dead now, so there's no more relationship to develop. Bilbo isn't wearing blue anymore.

He stops wearing blue.

The whole journey, Bilbo's clothes change as he acclimated to the dwarves, but his colors changed as he grew closer to Thorin. It wasn't obvious and in your face, you had to pay close attention as the movies and scenes progressed.

Thorin wasn't left out either.

We see him first wearing dark colors and a common silver or steel. He's dark, majestic, broody- he looks out of place in Bag End at first. And as the story progresses, Thorin starts wearing lighter colors- browns, reds, just not black/dark colors.

That can also tie into the gold-sickness, too.

When they finally make it to Erebor and drive out Smaug, we see Thorin dressing more lavishly- AND BACK INTO THE DARK COLORS. He's back to wearing those shades and Bilbo is still wearing blue. Thorin also adds gold into the scheme.

Wanna know what else is gold, and causes great harm to its owner? The One Ring.

Both have something gold that destroys them from within- Thorin with the hoard, Bilbo with the ring.

But, when the Battle of Five Armies starts and Thorin finally clears out of the sickness, he's back to wearing SILVER/STEEL. Not a single touch of gold on him. At all.

The thing about the gold is that it was meant to make us uneasy. We're meant to see it and feel how heavy the weight of that sickness lies on Thorin and the line of Durin. Same goes with the ring, and it also being gold.

Thorin gifting Bilbo the mithril shirt is a nod to how much Bilbo has changed. That is one of the most, if not second to the Arkenstone, valuable items in that mountain. Thorin saw him as valuable through the rarest silver.

And mithril is a clean, pure silver.

I think there's more, but this is all I remember ranting about, so if I figure anything else out from memory, I'll shoot you another long winded reblog.

bagginshield is so real cause what do you mean they started wearing each others colors

[toastytrusty]

"I cannot deny that there were moments in which my direct rival and my direct motivation was you."

[jamil-s-wifey]

I saw the rules that NSFW is fine & things u don't write for the NSFW, soo may i req hcs of Savannaclaw's dorm with gn!s/o (f!s/o is ok too) where s/o asks the boys to breed them? Ummm is my req still alright? do tell me if u feel uncomfortable with this. Thank u!

Yes, of course, your request is perfectly fine! One interesting proposition towards the Savannaclaw dorm coming right up! Thank you for diligently reading the rules! ♥️ I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Nsfw under the cut!

Leona

See, he gets it. You're dating a beastman. Of course you'd want to get a taste of the wild side - the primal urges, the possessive bitemarks, the delicious feeling of being full to the brim, like a good little bitch in heat. He gets it. ...But that doesn't mean he won't have some fun with it.

"Breeding, huh? You think just 'cus I'm a beastman, that we call it breeding, that it comes natural or something? Wanna live out your little creampie fantasies through me, huh?"

Oh that accusatory tone, that sharp glare.

Just as you were about to apologise, he interrupted you.

"You'd stand correct, herbivore."

Oh, that piece of-

And he was on you, pinning you to the nearest surface, which ended up being the bed itself. (Lazy lion be lazing) Sharp canines scraped over the pulse point on your neck, as his hips ground into you.

"You wanna be bred, huh? Filled to the brim, marked and scented, so that everybody will know who you belong to? Careful what you wish for, little herbivore."

"You might just get it. Now spread your legs."

Ruggie

He right about *choked*.

You? With him? Now?!? But he's not prepared for fatherhood. He'd want to have a steady income to provide for his family and - and it's so tempting, and you're pulling him in with those glassy eyes, and delicious lips and-

Oh, you meant in like-. Oh You just really want to be filled, don't you. Okay. He can work with that.

He'd be for sure frazzled at first, but very quickly get into rhythm. The more ye imagines it, the more obsessed he gets with the image of your hole dripping with his cum, reddened, used and thoroughly bred.

He'd have to wait until nighttime, when he's free, but the moment you two were left to your own devices he was quick to shed your clothing, nearly ripping yours from your body.

Surprisingly eager, considering the state of pure panic he was in earlier that day. All teeth, and growls, and breathless moaning, and all just for you.

"Shishishi, and here I thought I was the wild one. Oh doncha worry, I'll fill you plenty~."

Somehow that sounded more like a threat than a promise and you were content with both.

Jack

Every single fiber within Jack's body was screaming at him to take you right then and there. His instincts were going haywire at the prospect. He needed you carnally, viscerally... and you were just offering yourself to him?

His tail was a dead giveaway, as to the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him, as he stared at you. His fingers were twitching, aching to get a hold of you.

"You....do realise what that entails, right? We uh...we mate for life. I know you find it..uhm.....attractive, but I have to warn you."

He figured you were aware, he just couldn't believe it. His breeding also entailed a knot after all. You had to be warned. And you already knew. Of course you knew, you'd been together for years. After hearing your wholehearted confirmation, he felt the thin thread of his self-control snap within him.

A deep guttural growl left his throat, as he stepped towards you, grabbing your face and pulling you in for the kiss of a lifetime. Big, rough hands travelled from your face, to your neck and down your body, only to lift you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"I can't wait to paint your insides white. You'd look so good, full and sated, my perfect mate."

Who are you and what did you do to my Jack?

[luvf4ngz]

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together

grim reaper! jason todd

Description: Your constant close calls with death first captures the attention of the Grim Reaper, then his heart, and lastly, his devotions.

Contents: Female Reader, Mentions Of Death/Dying, References to Greek Mythology, Possessiveness, You Watch Pretty Woman and Read Pride & Prejudice Together Bc Yeah, Mentions Of Isolation But It’s Okay I Promise, Jason Is Lowkey Lonely And Desperate, Reader Has A Death Wish? Maybe?, Praise Kink, SO MUCH PRAISE, Unprotected Sex, Religious Symbolisms, Sacrilege?, Nipple Play, Jason Calls You Princess, Obviously???, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, (Female Receiving), He’s So In Love, Jason Todd Is Touch Starved, Devotion, Jason Is A Munch, Overstimulation, Vaginal Sex, Yes Greek Gods Wear Boxers, Enthusiastic Consent, “Will it fit?” I’m Sorry Okay, Size Kink, Jason Todd Has A Big Dick, Gentle Dom Jason Todd, Intimate Sex, Slow Sex, Soft Sex, Aftercare, Cuddling

Word Count: 6081

Author’s Note: Jason is loosely based off of Thanatos from Greek Mythology/Hades (the game). It was kind of hard infusing his personality with the literal personification of Death, but I hope I did a good job! Also some details are completely made up or changed for the purpose of the fics, like how dying works in Greek Mythos. Please don’t come for me, I’m just trying to be horny on the internet. Without furthermore, please enjoy :)

Actually one more thing I have a Thanatos/Death playlist and I adore it to bits, please listen if you want.

Thank you @toruslvt for beta-reading!

He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

"Yet another brush with death." You heard a husky voice beside you, making you turn your head to look at the figure sheepishly. 

Whether you’re extremely unlucky or just unfathomably reckless, he’s not sure. All he knows is that your soul has been on the edge of being his over and over again - whether it was narrowly missing a car or falling into a river or even just choking on a bone. You always seem to make it out of those situations just fine, which has thoroughly caught his attention. 

 "You should really be more careful, you know." He looked at you and sighed. 

“I am! Or at least I try to be...” You murmur timidly, scratching the back of your neck. “It’s uh, it’s nice to see you again.” You give him a small smile, turning your body to face him. 

As always, he’s in his dark cloak, the hood lifted to conceal some of his hair, casting a shadow over his face. The gold accents adorning his body glint due to the faint sunlight casting through your kitchen window, the same sunlight making his tan skin glow, making him look otherworldly - which he was. 

He raised his eyebrow, “Is it now? Most people are terrified to see me.” He muttered, smirking a bit,

“I guess I’m used to you now.” Your grin gets a bit larger, warmer. “You don’t have your scythe.” You point out.

He lets out a slight chuckle at your observation, “Such a keen eye. I figured I wouldn’t need it, and I was right. What was it this time?”

Your face heats with embarrassment at the question. “I slipped.” You confess, pointing to the puddle of water on the ground. “Almost cracked my head open, I guess. But! I turned my body in time, so I’m fine.”

“Yes, that would explain your wet clothes.” His eyes trail down your body, catching slightly where your nipples peek out against the damp fabric, before looking back up to your face.

He clears his throat, “Haven’t you learned your lesson by now? It’s not even lunch time yet and you were on the brink of death. Aren’t you afraid of dying?” He scolds you.

“I mean, not really.” 

A pause of silence.

“What? You’re joking, right? How can you be so cavalier about this?”

“I don’t know, it doesn't seem so bad. It’s a natural part of life. Should I be scared?” 

“What kind of question is that?!” He raises his voice slightly, eyebrows scrunched as he looks at you. “Of course, you should be. Dying isn’t fun. You’ll be dead, trapped in the underworld for the rest of eternity. You should be trying to preserve your life while you still have it.”

“I am, though. I’m not saying I don’t like being alive, I’m just saying, when it happens, it’ll happen. There’s no use being so pre-cautious and anxious all the time.”

He lets out a huff, “You are… certainly a strange one.”

“In any case, I’d like to think my soul will go to Elysium. I'm a pretty good person, so I think the afterlife won’t be too awful for me.” You continue on, carefree.

"That isn't my point, though. Even if you're guaranteed a place in Elysium, you should still be more vigilant.”

“Why should I be? My end is already predetermined, isn’t it? Don’t the fates know when my time is up?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Wait, then how come you visit me before I actually die?” You interrupt him, a realization suddenly taking place. “Near death experiences shouldn't summon you right?”

He hesitates a bit, caught. "You’re correct… I visit you on my own accord.”

“Why?” You tilt your head cutely, an innocent and puzzled look in your eyes.

“You’ve just caught my attention, is all.” He looks away. “I like to keep track of you, the Fates are wrong sometimes, and you basically have a death wish so I just… I like to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile slightly at his words, “You don’t want me to die?”

“Of course, I don’t. I like- I like to watch you. You’re interesting to me.” He chooses his words carefully.

“I am?” Your eyes brighten a bit at his words.

He turns back to you and nods, his hood shifting a bit with his movement, revealing a bit more of his hair. The white streak catches your attention. 

“I have to confess it’s… cute the amount of trouble you manage to get yourself into. It’s entertaining to see what you get up to, how you treat others, what you desire out of life.” His eyes move to look into yours. “Your mentality is quite unique, as well. You see dying as natural and not something to be feared, but I think you've accepted it to an… abnormal degree." He paused. "...You're the first person in a very long time to not express fear of me.”

“Why would anyone be afraid? You're only doing your job... and you're quite nice." 

He laughs, the deep rumble of his voice goes straight to your knees. "I think you're the first person to ever call the God of Death ‘nice’. You wouldn't believe the amount of people that fear me, even before their time is up. It's... exhausting, really. I can always hear their prayers, their cries, their pleads.”

"I mean I can’t blame them, I just can't share the same sentiment, especially with all the conversations that we've had."

He smiles at you, “You really are like a breath of fresh air. It’s nice to know that someone doesn’t hate me.” He pauses again, a soft look in his eyes. “But you should still be careful. You're not made of rubber after all. Don’t let me take you earlier than I should.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, though.”

“What?” In such a short time, you’ve shocked him again.

“I wouldn’t mind dying knowing that you'll be the one waiting for me.” You say it so casually, continuing to smile at him, as if it wasn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever uttered to him. His heart beats a little faster as he stares down at you, stupefied. 

“You can’t mean that.” He replies after a while. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He’s speechless, dumb-founded. How could he possibly begin to explain that the idea of anyone liking him enough to allow him to take them from this world so happily was absurd?

“What?” You ask, noticing his sudden silence. “Why’s that so strange? I like talking to you, and when I’m in the afterlife you would keep me company, right?”

He lets out a breath and smiles a bit, the whites of his teeth peeking out behind the pink of his lips. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sound appealing.”

“Good.” You smile a little wider, your eyes crinkling as it makes his heart begin to race now. 

“I-I should get going, there’s uh- souls I need to get to.” He stutters out.

“Yeah, that sounds important. I should clean up with water. I’ll see you around uh… Mister Grim Reaper, sir.”

He lets out an amused huff. “Jason. Just call me Jason.”

“Will do.” You jokingly salute him, and it makes him let out another chortle. 

“Alright, farewell then.” He nods, before blinking out of your kitchen. 

You stare at the space he used to occupy for a bit, still smiling softly, before leaving to get a mop - and maybe a change of clothes.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be here?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow as you stare at him from the couch. 

“Yes.” He replies simply, his eyes and attention focus on the movie playing on your TV.

His visits have been more and more frequent lately, ever since the conversation the both of you shared in your kitchen. Now, Death, who prefers the name Jason, shows up even if you didn’t go through another life-threatening event. 

And right in this moment, Jason is standing in front of your couch, entirely enraptured by Pretty Woman, of all things. 

“Don’t you have to do your duty? I’m sure there’s a lot of lost, wandering souls right now.” You try again, concerned. 

“What? You don’t want me here?”

“I didn’t say that!” You put your hands up in defense. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble or something. Won’t Hades or the Fates or… whoever your superior is get angry?”

“Probably.” He shrugs. “But what are they going to do? Kill me?” He casts you a glance from the corner of his eyes, before going back to the movie. “Besides, souls can’t leave the mortal body without me being there. They’ll just rest for a bit, I can always come get them after.”

“I guess that’s fine then.” You sigh out. “Could you at least sit down?” 

Jason lets out a nod, before moving to the couch, taking a seat beside you but still keeping his distance. 

He watches the rest of the movie in silence beside you, enjoying your company. His eyes flick over to admire you a few times, taking in your immersed gaze and noticing the way you’re clutching a plushie so close to you (cute). When you sniffle, when a few tears trail down your face, when your parted lips form a pout at the ending, his heart pumps hard in his chest. 

This was a much better use of his time. 

“You have so many books.” Jason states, his figure crouched so that he could properly read all the titles. His hood is off, fully revealing his soft, dark hair - the white streak a beautiful contrast. 

“Who’s the observant one, now?” You chuckle from your place on the bed, eyes not leaving the novel in your hands. 

He rolls his eyes, “What are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” You hum softly, eyes still scanning the page. 

“What’s that about?” Jason asks, walking away from the bookshelf and towards you. 

“Uh, it’s a little complicated.” You murmur, “But basically it’s two people learning to get over their, well, pride and prejudices to fall in love.” 

He lets out a hum, “Read it to me?” 

“Oh my Gods, you’re so lucky, I just got to the best part.” Your eyes watch him as he lays down beside you on your bed, the fabric of his black cloak pooling around his body. 

“Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes, he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began: ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ Elizabeth’s astonishment was beyond expression.” 

Jason turned to his side in order to get a better view of you. He watches how your eyes practically light up as you read, a smile gracing your face. He can’t help but think how pretty you look like this. 

“She stared, coloured, doubted, and was silent. This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. UGH, it’s so romantic!” You yell out, clutching the book to your chest and rolling back and forth slightly, making him let out a chuckle at your antics. “I mean at this point in the book I still hate Darcy but Gods, the way it’s written is just so good!” 

He falls silent for a bit, his gaze affectionate as he watches you. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

You stop your giddy reactions, looking at him curiously. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be with me in the afterlife?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

He took a deep breath. "Let's say... let's just pretend for a moment, that when you die... I don't guide you to the afterlife. Instead, I take you somewhere else with me."

You sit up slightly, pushing yourself up on your arms, turning your body to face him. “Where would we go?” You set your book aside on the nightstand. 

“To… my home. I have a residence on the outskirts of Tartarus. You would be safe there, I can make sure that nothing would bother you.” He sits up fully, grabbing and holding your hands gently. “Please, I want you to stay with me. I get so lonely, and I just- I like being around you.” His tone is soft, pleading and sincere as he confesses his desires to you.

You smile back at him, eyes crinkling softly in that way that he’s come to adore. “I’d like that.”

“Really?” He gasps out, face mirroring yours as a bright smile overtakes his features.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’ll take some time, though.”

He shakes his head, hands gripping yours a bit tighter, “I would wait the entire rest of eternity for you, if I had to.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to not make you wait that long.” You giggle out.

“I’d hope not. I want to have you with me, I want to keep you around until the end of time itself.” 

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyones ever said to me, Jay.” Your tone is light, teasing. 

“There’s a catch though,” He pauses, hesitant to see your reactions. “You won’t be able to leave the house or see anyone else. I can’t risk you getting found. B-but I get you anything you need, I can make you happy.”

“That sounds just fine to me.” 

His eyes glisten in happiness, a bright shine in them. “Then... it's settled. I will take you to my home, and you will stay with me… forever.” His glances down to your lips for a second, before quickly looking back into your eyes. 

You notice the movement, heart beating a bit faster.

“Could I kiss you?” He whispers, his voice low and warm. 

“Yeah,” You mumble back.

He leans in closer, hands releasing yours as one places itself on the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as the other gently grips your chin. He leans down, tilting your head up until he feels the soft press of his lips to yours. Warmth floods his body as he feels electricity in the air, and he feels his heart pound behind his ribcage when your own arms wrap around his neck.

Your touch, your taste, was addicting. You were tender and sweet, and Jason never wanted this moment to end. He groans when he feels your hand begin to play with his hair, and he presses himself closer to you, both hands moving to grip your waist. 

His grip tightened on you as your kiss intensified, his body started to tremble as it filled with a desire so deep that it was all-consuming. 

Eventually you break apart from him, needing air. He dismays at having to pull away, but allows you to do so.

"If that's what's waiting for me at the end of my life, maybe I do want to die sooner…” You joke, breathless.

He groans again, “Don’t… don’t say that. Don’t tempt me, I can’t take it.” He presses his forehead to yours, both of your breaths mingling together.

You giggle, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him again. He relents easily, his heart skipping when you hum softly against his lips, the desire in his body igniting higher and higher. 

Eventually, he’s the one to pull away, his breath tickling you as he trails his nose against your neck. He can feel the soft tremor in your breath as your body shivers against his. “Can we go further?” He murmurs into the skin.

“Yeah, I want more.” You nod.

“Good, I do too. I want all of you.” He begins to press his lips to your neck, lightly leaving kisses and bites that you have squirming and gasping. 

“You have me.”

“You don’t understand.” He shakes his head. “You... you don't know how much I've been longing for you. Your presence alone gives me joy. Having you touch me… it makes my heart pound and my body melt. The way you talk, the sounds you make... it’s perfect. I want to touch you. I want to hold you. I want to know everything about you. I want all of you.”

“You can have that too…” You sighed out. 

“You drive me crazy.” He groans, leaning close again to kiss you deeply, caressing the sides of your body. He wasn't holding back anymore. He couldn't. He wanted you so much that it ached in his bones. His hands started sliding slowly but surely, caressing your back and waist. He couldn't get enough of you, and your body’s twitching and the sound of your heavy breaths was such a thrilling sensation that he was consumed by it entirely.

“Jason…” You pant out his name as you experimentally grind your body against his, whining when you feel his hard cock rub against your clothed cunt, your hands holding him tighter. 

The sound drove him crazy with arousal, his body wracked with longing. You felt so good and he couldn't help but lean into you more, allowing you to press against him over and over and over. The feeling of heat was flooding his entire being, his cock throbbing beneath his cloak.

He worships the feeling of you grinding against him for a few more moments, his breath coming out in husky pants before he rolls you onto your back, hovering above you. 

"Just be a good girl and let me do all the work, now." His voice is husky, needy, as he leaned down and kissed your neck again, his breath hot and his body trembling with anticipation. 

You whine again, rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sudden ache between them. Your eagerness spurs him on, he presses a peck to your cheek before sitting back on his knees to gaze down at you. 

“Gods, you’re gorgeous.” He mutters, his hand slips up your shirt a little, and he shivers at the instant warmth of your skin. “Can I take this off?”

You nod rapidly, quickly pulling off your top and tossing it aside, revealing yourself to him.

Jason responds by leaning down to litter kisses over your body, a flush on his cheeks. His lips are soft and reverent almost as they softly touch your heated skin. He takes your nipple into his mouth sucking slightly, as a hand comes up to tweak and roll the other one. 

“Jay…” You call out his name, your back arching slightly,  and he never wants to stop hearing your voice. 

“I got you, princess.”

He lowers his mouth, trailing down your body until he reaches the hem of your bottoms. “Can I take this off, too?” 

“Do anything you want, Jay.” You breathe out, head dizzy with your need.

“You sure?” He asks, fingers hooking into both your pajama pants and underwear, dragging them down your body, uncovering inch after inch of your naked body. 

You look like a dream under him, eyes blown with lust, lips parted, body bare for him as you nod. He sets your clothes aside, going back to relishing you. 

You look away softly from embarrassment, “You take off your clothes, too…”

Your shyness got to him and he could help but laugh softly. You were so cute. He took a step back and off the bed, pulling off his cloak. He could feel your eyes watching his every movement, could feel your eyes rake his form as you settled on the bed. 

His gold adornments drop to the floor with a ‘clunk’, quickly followed by his black trousers. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You softly praise. You can’t help but to stare at him, eyes lingering on every sculpted muscle or coloured scar of his frame. 

He couldn't help but feel like you were the beautiful one. The way your eyes traveled over his body made his heart beat fast. He felt like he was on top of the world, knowing you admired him.

He climbs back onto the bed, taking his place between your legs as he lays on his stomach. His hands come to grip around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. 

“Oh.” You gasp slightly at the intimate position, gulping as your blood pumps faster through your veins. 

He slides a hand down towards your cunt, already slick for him. A thumb parts your swollen lips as he gently glides it up and down, before pressing it against your sensitive bud. 

“Ah-” You moan oh so sweetly for him, hips twitching as he starts rubbing your pretty clit. Your body was so responsive to him, and it makes a grin break onto his face. 

He brings his thumb away, making you frown before replacing it with his mouth, lips wrapped around the nub. 

“W-wait!” You cry out, hands flying into his hair as you do your best to not buck into his face. He smirked around you, starting to suck despite your call. Your reaction only added fuel to the fire burning inside him, your writhing body and shaky gasps were too much for him to handle. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just let yourself feel good.” He mumbles into your cunt before going back to sucking and lapping at you. He holds you close to his face, his grip firm to keep you as still as he could. 

He groans as you tug at his roots, the sound vibrating around your needy clit. Your desperate moans and whispers drove him crazy. He liked how fast you were breathing, how much you were moving. You were a squirming, twitching mess underneath him as the sensation became too overwhelming.

“Jason, oh my Gods.” You gasp.

“I’m your only God, now, right? Just me…” His hand moves to your fluttering hole, slowly pressing two fingers inside you. They slip in easily with how wet you are, dripping your desire down his wrists. He feels you clamp down on them, slick walls sucking him in further.

“Jason, Jay!” His name slips from your lips like a chant, a prayer wrapped in shallow breaths. 

“Keep saying my name just like that, pretty girl.” He loves the way you make it sound, loves the way you say it. Not Grip Reaper. Not Death. Just Jason. Your Jason. 

“Oh, Jay…” You breathe out his name like you’re struggling to even think.

“You’re such a sensitive thing, aren’t you?” He coos, starting to move his fingers in and out of you. He smirks when you squeal as he curls his fingers up, pressing against that soft, vulnerable spot inside you. His arm moves to keep you down, pinning your hips to the bed as he goes back to tasting you.

“N-not there!”

“Why not? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“It’s too much!” You’re breathless, barely able to gasp out replies as he keeps abusing that spot inside you. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Jason slows his pace, fingers dragging painfully slow against your aching, slick walls, making you let out a needy mewl, clenching on him. 

“No! P-please don’t.” You pout, softly tugging at his head to turn his attention fully on you. 

“Say my name. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitate a bit, pondering your words. “Make me feel good, Jason. Make me cum.” Your tone is so soft and pleading, it’s the best worship he’s ever heard. 

The only prayers he’s ever heard were cries for his absence, beseeching his very being and purpose, but with you - he’s found a new one. You want him, you want him closer, you want him to make you feel bliss. He can do that. He’ll do anything for his most devout follower, he’ll worship you twice as much as you ever could him. 

He dives back down with a fervor, thick fingers working you quickly, the soft squelches increasing in volume and frequency. His tongue traces your clit, sucking and rolling and indulging in the way you writhe and whimper below him. 

He keeps going as you squirm uncontrollably, as your body tenses further and further, as your eyes glaze over and your heart pounds. Your nerves are frayed and begging for relief as the soft warmth of his tongue doesn’t let up. Your grip on his hair tightens, making him grunt low and husky into you. 

“Jason, m’gonna… can I please-?” You can barely make out full sentences, head fuzzy and blood searing as the dam inside you threatens to break. 

“You don’t have to ask, just do it.’ He murmurs; his cock throbs in his garments, waiting for you to release on his tongue. 

The feeling overtakes you, making you choke out a shaky cry as you climax. Your thighs squeezes his head, fingers buried deep into his dark locks as you tremble. You’re lightheaded and breathless and euphoria has settled in every inch of your veins. 

Jason removes his fingers, gripping your thigh as his mouth slots against your leaking cunt as he engulfs his tongue into your taste. He greedily laps up your slick, moaning as it blooms over his tongue - more sweet and addictive than even ambrosia. 

Your cries are so adorable as he continues to seek out every last drop of cum from you, your body pliant and weak below him as you keen and mew. 

“J-Jay…” You stutter out his name as your body twitches, sensitivity kicking in. 

“Yes, love?” He barely pauses to utter out those words, mind set on devouring you whole. 

“C-can’t!” He frowns, giving you one last lick before pulling himself away from you.

His eyes are filled with a feral like need, mouth smeared and shiny with the aftermath of your arousal. “Did that feel good?” He husks out, “You looked so divine, cumming.’

You’re panting hard under him, mind dizzy as you process his words, nodding in reply.

“I want to make you feel that way for the rest of eternity, you’ll let me right? You’ll stay with me?” Now that he’s had you, he doesn’t think he can survive on his own anymore. 

“Y-yeah, Jay.” You nod again, voice small. 

He raises himself up, licking you off his hand before he crawls over your body again. His legs slot between yours, tangling the both of you together. He leans down, sighing out in satisfaction as your damp, warm skin presses into his. 

His lips brush over yours, silently asking for permission to kiss you again. You accept him willingly, hands drifting to hang loose around his neck as you push your lips to his.

He groans, hand gripping your waist and the other running through your hair as he explores your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, spit mixing together as he groans into your lips. 

He pulls back, both your breaths lingering in the small space between your faces. He trails his nose down to the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth dragging lightly across the flesh. 

“I want all of you, so bad.” He groans. “I’ll do anything for you. Can you tell me I’m yours?”

He so desperately wants to belong to you - to know that one day you’ll accompany him in the deepest pits of Tartarus - that you’ll never let him be alone again. 

“You want to be mine?” Your tone is puzzled, words ending in a lilt. 

“Please.”

You smile, hands coming to hold his face, thumbs gently caressing his cheeks. “Who knew the God of Death would be so needy?” You tease.

“You try being alone and hated since the dawn of existence.” He sighs, melting into your touch. His eyes close, leaning into your palms. 

You giggle a bit. “We can be each other's.” Your lips break out into a grin as you bring his face down to yours, pressing pecks all over. 

He relishes your kisses, letting out a deep, happy sigh. His cock is still painfully hard, straining against his boxers, but he tries to ignore it. He opens his eyes and brushes your stray hair behind your ears, slightly damp with your sweat. 

“Jay,” You murmur his name, pulling back to look at him, “I want more.”

“More? You want me to eat you out again?” His mouth salivates at the thought of having your taste on his tongue again. He’ll do anything you ask. 

You shake your head, thumbs rubbing along his cheekbones, “I want you to fuck me, Jay.”  

“You do? Are you sure?” He whispers. 

His breath hitches as you nod, blinking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. 

“I wanna feel you, Jay. J-just go slow, I’m still sensitive.”

“You’re sensitive?” He huffs out an amused breath, smiling softly. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make sure of it.”

You try to press your thighs together, getting excited by his promises and husky tone. He feels your legs shift around his, smirking as he takes in your desperate body language. 

He shifts back again, tugging his boxers down. Your eyes trail to his now exposed cock, standing proud and flushed and daunting. 

He’s…. big. 

Your jaw drops a little as you take him in, your mind reeling with thoughts of “Will it fit?”.

“Hm? Don’t worry. I said I was going to take care of you.” Jason murmurs, voice adoring. He positions himself back between your legs, hands lifting your legs to encourage them to wrap around his waist. You willingly follow his guidance. 

His hands come to hold your hips steady, hips canting forwards to rub the head of his cock through your folds. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” You reply softly, hands drifting to lay on top of his, gently grabbing his wrists. 

He pushes inside of you, pace steady and measured as he tries his best to let you adapt to him.

“Ohmyfuck…” You slur, words mushing together as you feel him stretch you out. You grip him a bit tighter. 

“Just relax, pretty girl.” He mutters, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin to calm you down. He continues pushing himself inside you, making you feel every ridge and detail and inch. It’s slow and deliberate; he’s savoring watching the way your cunt sucks him in, the way your head tilts back, how shallow and quick your breaths have gotten. “Can you feel it? Am I too big for you?” He teases, eyes shining with both mischief and affection. He pushes forwards again. 

Your pussy flutters around the girth of him, slick pouring out with every second, making the process that much smoother. 

You try to take deep breaths, groaning softly as you feel the way he bullies into you, nestling deep inside. 

“S’it in yet?” You hiccup.

He chuckles softly, you were just so endearing. He was taking his time, enjoying the feeling of you. “It’s not even halfway yet, baby.” He coos. 

“S-still?” Your eyes widen a bit, as he laughs again.

“Just lay down and take it, princess. I’ll do everything, don’t think about a thing.” He leans down and silences your whimpers with a kiss. His lips lock onto yours as he swallows your moans, moving his hips until he feels you flushed against him. 

He pulls back, body once more shadowing over yours. His eyes drift down to where the two of you connect. “Look at that, she took me all in. I told you that you didn’t need to fret, love.” 

“A-ah, it’s so deep…” You mumble. 

“Isn’t it?” He grins. 

He starts to move back and forth, instantly groaning at the intoxicating sensation of you wrapped warm and snug around his pulsing cock. 

He keeps his pace slow, staying true to his promise. He doesn’t mind though, he’s just relishing in every little detail of you, burning the memory of how you look, feel, and sound into his mind - a treasure for eons to come. 

You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands moving to grip at his biceps, nails digging slightly into the skin. He grunts, liking the shark twang of pain that shoots through his body. 

He can feel you clamping around him desperately, like your body needed more. You’re so wet and sloppy, he can feel your slick smearing on his thighs with every thrust. 

“Feels s’good, baby.” He groans, and immediately he feels you clench on him again. “Did you like that?” He grins. 

“Uh-huh,” You nod dumbly, eyes unfocused as whines spill from your throat. 

“My pretty girl likes it when I praise her, huh?” The next words flow from him easily, he’s venerated you so much in his mind already that the flattery comes easy. He wants you to know exactly what you make him feel. “You’re so fucking perfect for me, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

Everytime he bottoms out you can feel him in your throat.

“J-Jay…”

Your bodies blend together, waves of pleasure overtaking you both with each long stroke. You can feel every inch and vein and crevice of him pushing against your sensitive walls. 

He continues speaking. “You make me fall apart so easily, my love. I want to give you my everything. I’ll be at your disposal from now on, you can do whatever you want with my body, as long as you stay by my side.” His tone is deep, dripping with lust. “Your pretty pussy takes me so well, it’s like you were made for my cock, yeah?”

A shiver of arousal runs through your body at his speech, lower body getting hotter. You feel like you’re surrounded by lava, melting and wound tight all at once. 

“Your body is so beautiful, I don't want anyone else to touch you; I want you only for myself.” His hands lift your hips up a little, his cock pressing inside even deeper than before, making you let out a yelp. 

He’s hitting every good spot inside you, knocking the breath from your lungs even with his sensual pace. You feel constant spurts of warmth pouring out of you, and you notice just how soaked the mattress is beneath your shivering body. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, love?”

“S-so much, Jay,” You whine out, clutching him harder. 

“Good, I want to be the only one that can make you feel like this.”  

Each rock of his hips gets you higher and higher, dangling on the edge of release. The glide of him is so smooth and sweet as he drags against you.

“M’gonna cum, Jay.” You sigh out, voice high and whiny.

“Good girl, go on and soak my cock. Show me just how much you’re enjoying this.” 

A few more more moments and you’re letting go, gripping his biceps hard as elation sinks deep into your bones. A sob of his name escapes your parted lips, body tingly and twitchy as endorphins rush through your veins. He groans as he feels your slick walls convulse around him. His grip on your waist tightens momentarily as he pulls out, his cum instantly spilling onto your stomach. Relief floods his system as he pants hard, chest heaving as he catches his breath. 

The both of you bask in the afterglow of your climaxes, the soft sound of breathing drifting on the heated air. Jason thinks you look divine with your hair spread on the bed, his seed marking your skin as sweat glistens your body. You think the view of him above you, satisfaction prominent on his face, is just as sacred. 

When Jason’s body settles he gently slides out of you, smiling apologetically at your small wince. He goes to your bathroom, having memorized the layout of your house from all the times he’s visited you. He returns with a damp towel, mournfully wiping his traces off of you. He throws the rag into your laundry basket, crawling beside you in bed and pulling you into his chest.

“How ya doing, princess?” He whispers into your hair.

You give him a small, happy hum in return, scooting yourself even closer into him. 

"You're so soft," He mumbles, nuzzling into you. "This is where I want us to stay, for eternity. Nothing else, forever."

“That sounds perfect, Jay.” You reply, yawning slightly. 

Jason’s smile grows even wider, his arms tightening around you. He looks down at you with an adoring gaze, your warm and tender body slotting perfectly against his. "There is nothing, and no one in this world that I want more than you, my dearest."

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

requested tags: @a-deadbeat-fucking-valentine @in-som-niyah

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

My McLuhan lecture on enshittification

IT'S THE LAST DAY for the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

Last night, I gave the annual Marshall McLuhan lecture at the Transmediale festival in Berlin. The event was sold out and while there's a video that'll be posted soon, they couldn't get a streaming setup installed in the Canadian embassy, where the talk was held:

https://transmediale.de/en/2024/event/mcluhan-2024

The talk went of fabulously, and was followed by commentary from Frederike Kaltheuner (Human Rights Watch) and a discussion moderated by Helen Starr. While you'll have to wait a bit for the video, I thought that I'd post my talk notes from last night for the impatient among you.

I want to thank the festival and the embassy staff for their hard work on an excellent event. And now, on to the talk!

Last year, I coined the term 'enshittification,' to describe the way that platforms decay. That obscene little word did big numbers, it really hit the zeitgeist. I mean, the American Dialect Society made it their Word of the Year for 2023 (which, I suppose, means that now I'm definitely getting a poop emoji on my tombstone).

So what's enshittification and why did it catch fire? It's my theory explaining how the internet was colonized by platforms, and why all those platforms are degrading so quickly and thoroughly, and why it matters – and what we can do about it.

We're all living through the enshittocene, a great enshittening, in which the services that matter to us, that we rely on, are turning into giant piles of shit.

It's frustrating. It's demoralizing. It's even terrifying.

I think that the enshittification framework goes a long way to explaining it, moving us out of the mysterious realm of the 'great forces of history,' and into the material world of specific decisions made by named people – decisions we can reverse and people whose addresses and pitchfork sizes we can learn.

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 Englisch Rechtschreibung. English is a free for all. Go nuts, meine Kerle).

But in case you want to use enshittification in a more precise, technical way, let's examine how enshittification works.

It's a three stage process: First, platforms are good to their users; then they abuse their users to make things better for their business customers; finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die.

Let's do a case study. What could be better than Facebook?

Facebook is a company that was founded to nonconsensually rate the fuckability of Harvard undergrads, and it only got worse after that.

When Facebook started off, it was only open to US college and high-school kids with .edu and k-12.us addresses. But in 2006, it opened up to the general public. It told them: “Yes, I know you’re all using Myspace. But Myspace is owned by Rupert Murdoch, an evil, crapulent senescent Australian billionaire, who spies on you with every hour that God sends.

“Sign up with Facebook and we will never spy on you. Come and tell us who matters to you in this world, and we will compose a personal feed consisting solely of what those people post for consumption by those who choose to follow them.”

That was stage one. Facebook had a surplus — its investors’ cash — and it allocated that surplus to its end-users. Those end-users proceeded to lock themselves into FB. FB — like most tech businesses — has network effects on its side. A product or service enjoys network effects when it improves as more people sign up to use it. You joined FB because your friends were there, and then others signed up because you were there.

But FB didn’t just have high network effects, it had high switching costs. Switching costs are everything you have to give up when you leave a product or service. In Facebook’s case, it was all the friends there that you followed and who followed you. In theory, you could have all just left for somewhere else; in practice, you were hamstrung by the collective action problem.

It’s hard to get lots of people to do the same thing at the same time. You and your six friends here are going to struggle to agree on where to get drinks after tonight's lecture. How were you and your 200 Facebook friends ever gonna agree on when it was time to leave Facebook, and where to go?

So FB’s end-users engaged in a mutual hostage-taking that kept them glued to the platform. Then FB exploited that hostage situation, withdrawing the surplus from end-users and allocating it to two groups of business customers: advertisers, and publishers.

To the advertisers, FB said, 'Remember when we told those rubes we wouldn’t spy on them? We lied. We spy on them from asshole to appetite. We will sell you access to that surveillance data in the form of fine-grained ad-targeting, and we will devote substantial engineering resources to thwarting ad-fraud. Your ads are dirt cheap to serve, and we’ll spare no expense to make sure that when you pay for an ad, a real human sees it.'

To the publishers, FB said, 'Remember when we told those rubes we would only show them the things they asked to see? We lied!Upload short excerpts from your website, append a link, and we will nonconsensually cram it into the eyeballs of users who never asked to see it. We are offering you a free traffic funnel that will drive millions of users to your website to monetize as you please, and those users will become stuck to you when they subscribe to your feed.' And so advertisers and publishers became stuck to the platform, too, dependent on those users.

The users held each other hostage, and those hostages took the publishers and advertisers hostage, too, so that everyone was locked in.

Which meant it was time for the third stage of enshittification: withdrawing surplus from everyone and handing it to Facebook’s shareholders.

For the users, that meant dialing down the share of content from accounts you followed to a homeopathic dose, and filling the resulting void with ads and pay-to-boost content from publishers.

For advertisers, that meant jacking up prices and drawing down anti-fraud enforcement, so advertisers paid much more for ads that were far less likely to be seen by a person.

For publishers, this meant algorithmically suppressing the reach of their posts unless they included an ever-larger share of their articles in the excerpt, until anything less than fulltext was likely to be be disqualified from being sent to your subscribers, let alone included in algorithmic suggestion feeds.

And then FB started to punish publishers for including a link back to their own sites, so they were corralled into posting fulltext feeds with no links, meaning they became commodity suppliers to Facebook, entirely dependent on the company both for reach and for monetization, via the increasingly crooked advertising service.

When any of these groups squawked, FB just repeated the lesson that every tech executive learned in the Darth Vader MBA: 'I have altered the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further.'

Facebook now enters the most dangerous phase of enshittification. It wants to withdraw all available surplus, and leave just enough residual value in the service to keep end users stuck to each other, and business customers stuck to end users, without leaving anything extra on the table, so that every extractable penny is drawn out and returned to its shareholders.

But that’s a very brittle equilibrium, because the difference between “I hate this service but I can’t bring myself to quit it,” and “Jesus Christ, why did I wait so long to quit? Get me the hell out of here!” is razor thin

All it takes is one Cambridge Analytica scandal, one whistleblower, one livestreamed mass-shooting, and users bolt for the exits, and then FB discovers that network effects are a double-edged sword.

If users can’t leave because everyone else is staying, when when everyone starts to leave, there’s no reason not to go, too.

That’s terminal enshittification, the phase when a platform becomes a pile of shit. This phase is usually accompanied by panic, which tech bros euphemistically call 'pivoting.'

Which is how we get pivots like, 'In the future, all internet users will be transformed into legless, sexless, low-polygon, heavily surveilled cartoon characters in a virtual world called "metaverse," that we ripped off from a 25-year-old satirical cyberpunk novel.'

That's the procession of enshittification. If enshittification were a disease, we'd call that enshittification's "natural history." But that doesn't tell you how the enshittification works, nor why everything is enshittifying right now, and without those details, we can't know what to do about it.

What led to the enshittocene? What is it about this moment that led to the Great Enshittening? Was it the end of the Zero Interest Rate Policy? Was it a change in leadership at the tech giants? Is Mercury in retrograde?

None of the above.

The period of free fed money certainly led to tech companies having a lot of surplus to toss around. But Facebook started enshittifying long before ZIRP ended, so did Amazon, Microsoft and Google.

Some of the tech giants got new leaders. But Google's enshittification got worse when the founders came back to oversee the company's AI panic (excuse me, 'AI pivot').

And it can't be Mercury in retrograde, because I'm a cancer, and as everyone knows, cancers don't believe in astrology.

When a whole bunch of independent entities all change in the same way at once, that's a sign that the environment has changed, and that's what happened to tech.

Tech companies, like all companies, have conflicting imperatives. On the one hand, they want to make money. On the other hand, making money involves hiring and motivating competent staff, and making products that customers want to buy. The more value a company permits its employees and customers to carve off, the less value it can give to its shareholders.

The equilibrium in which companies produce things we like in honorable ways at a fair price is one in which charging more, worsening quality, and harming workers costs more than the company would make by playing dirty.

There are four forces that discipline companies, serving as constraints on their enshittificatory impulses.

First: competition. Companies that fear you will take your business elsewhere are cautious about worsening quality or raising prices.

Second: regulation. Companies that fear a regulator will fine them more than they expect to make from cheating, will cheat less.

These two forces affect all industries, but the next two are far more tech-specific.

Third: self-help. Computers are extremely flexible, and so are the digital products and services we make from them. The only computer we know how to make is the Turing-complete Von Neumann machine, a computer that can run every valid program.

That means that users can always avail themselves of programs that undo the anti-features that shift value from them to a company's shareholders. Think of a board-room table where someone says, 'I've calculated that making our ads 20% more invasive will net us 2% more revenue per user.'

In a digital world, someone else might well say 'Yes, but if we do that, 20% of our users will install ad-blockers, and our revenue from those users will drop to zero, forever.'

This means that digital companies are constrained by the fear that some enshittificatory maneuver will prompt their users to google, 'How do I disenshittify this?'

Fourth and finally: workers. Tech workers have very low union density, but that doesn't mean that tech workers don't have labor power. The historical "talent shortage" of the tech sector meant that workers enjoyed a lot of leverage over their bosses. Workers who disagreed with their bosses could quit and walk across the street and get another job – a better job.

They knew it, and their bosses knew it. Ironically, this made tech workers highly exploitable. Tech workers overwhelmingly saw themselves as founders in waiting, entrepreneurs who were temporarily drawing a salary, heroic figures of the tech mission.

That's why mottoes like Google's 'don't be evil' and Facebook's 'make the world more open and connected' mattered: they instilled a sense of mission in workers. It's what Fobazi Ettarh calls 'vocational awe, 'or Elon Musk calls being 'extremely hardcore.'

Tech workers had lots of bargaining power, but they didn't flex it when their bosses demanded that they sacrifice their health, their families, their sleep to meet arbitrary deadlines.

So long as their bosses transformed their workplaces into whimsical 'campuses,' with gyms, gourmet cafeterias, laundry service, massages and egg-freezing, workers could tell themselves that they were being pampered – rather than being made to work like government mules.

But for bosses, there's a downside to motivating your workers with appeals to a sense of mission, namely: your workers will feel a sense of mission. So when you ask them to enshittify the products they ruined their health to ship, workers will experience a sense of profound moral injury, respond with outrage, and threaten to quit.

Thus tech workers themselves were the final bulwark against enshittification,

The pre-enshittification era wasn't a time of better leadership. The executives weren't better. They were constrained. Their worst impulses were checked by competition, regulation, self-help and worker power.

So what happened?

One by one, each of these constraints was eroded until it dissolved, leaving the enshittificatory impulse unchecked, ushering in the enshittoscene.

It started with competition. From the Gilded Age until the Reagan years, the purpose of competition law was to promote competition. US antitrust law treated corporate power as dangerous and sought to blunt it. European antitrust laws were modeled on US ones, imported by the architects of the Marshall Plan.

But starting in the neoliberal era, competition authorities all over the world adopted a doctrine called 'consumer welfare,' which held that monopolies were evidence of quality. If everyone was shopping at the same store and buying the same product, that meant it was the best store, selling the best product – not that anyone was cheating.

And so all over the world, governments stopped enforcing their competition laws. They just ignored them as companies flouted them. Those companies merged with their major competitors, absorbed small companies before they could grow to be big threats. They held an orgy of consolidation that produced the most inbred industries imaginable, whole sectors grown so incestuous they developed Habsburg jaws, from eyeglasses to sea freight, glass bottles to payment processing, vitamin C to beer.

Most of our global economy is dominated by five or fewer global companies. If smaller companies refuse to sell themselves to these cartels, the giants have free rein to flout competition law further, with 'predatory pricing' that keeps an independent rival from gaining a foothold.

When Diapers.com refused Amazon's acquisition offer, Amazon lit $100m on fire, selling diapers way below cost for months, until diapers.com went bust, and Amazon bought them for pennies on the dollar, and shut them down.

Competition is a distant memory. As Tom Eastman says, the web has devolved into 'five giant websites filled with screenshots of text from the other four,' so these giant companies no longer fear losing our business.

Lily Tomlin used to do a character on the TV show Laugh In, an AT&T telephone operator who'd do commercials for the Bell system. Each one would end with her saying 'We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company.'

Today's giants are not constrained by competition.

They don't care. They don't have to. They're Google.

That's the first constraint gone, and as it slipped away, the second constraint – regulation – was also doomed.

When an industry consists of hundreds of small- and medium-sized enterprises, it is a mob, a rabble. Hundreds of companies can't agree on what to tell Parliament or Congress or the Commission. They can't even agree on how to cater a meeting where they'd discuss the matter.

But when a sector dwindles to a bare handful of dominant firms, it ceases to be a rabble and it becomes a cartel.

Five companies, or four, or three, or two, or just one company finds it easy to converge on a single message for their regulators, and without "wasteful competition" eroding their profits, they have plenty of cash to spread around.

Like Facebook, handing former UK deputy PM Nick Clegg millions every year to sleaze around Europe, telling his former colleagues that Facebook is the only thing standing between 'European Cyberspace' and the Chinese Communist Party.

Tech's regulatory capture allows it to flout the rules that constrain less concentrated sectors. They can pretend that violating labor, consumer and privacy laws is fine, because they violate them with an app.

This is why competition matters: it's not just because competition makes companies work harder and share value with customers and workers, it's because competition keeps companies from becoming too big to fail, and too big to jail.

Now, there's plenty of things we don't want improved through competition, like privacy invasions. After the EU passed its landmark privacy law, the GDPR, there was a mass-extinction event for small EU ad-tech companies. These companies disappeared en masse, and that's fine.

They were even more invasive and reckless than US-based Big Tech companies. After all, they had less to lose. We don't want competition in commercial surveillance. We don't want to produce increasing efficiency in violating our human rights.

But: Google and Facebook – who pretend they are called Alphabet and Meta – have been unscathed by European privacy law. That's not because they don't violate the GDPR (they do!). It's because they pretend they are headquartered in Ireland, one of the EU's most notorious corporate crime-havens.

And Ireland competes with the EU other crime havens – Malta, Luxembourg, Cyprus and sometimes the Netherlands – to see which country can offer the most hospitable environment for all sorts of crimes. Because the kind of company that can fly an Irish flag of convenience is mobile enough to change to a Maltese flag if the Irish start enforcing EU laws.

Which is how you get an Irish Data Protection Commission that processes fewer than 20 major cases per year, while Germany's data commissioner handles more than 500 major cases, even though Ireland is nominal home to the most privacy-invasive companies on the continent.

So Google and Facebook get to act as though they are immune to privacy law, because they violate the law with an app; just like Uber can violate labor law and claim it doesn't count because they do it with an app.

Uber's labor-pricing algorithm offers different drivers different payments for the same job, something Veena Dubal calls 'algorithmic wage discrimination.' If you're more selective about which jobs you'll take, Uber will pay you more for every ride.

But if you take those higher payouts and ditch whatever side-hustle let you cover your bills which being picky about your Uber drives, Uber will incrementally reduce the payment, toggling up and down as you grow more or less selective, playing you like a fish on a line until you eventually – inevitably – lose to the tireless pricing robot, and end up stuck with low wages and all your side-hustles gone.

Then there's Amazon, which violates consumer protection laws, but says it doesn't matter, because they do it with an app. Amazon makes $38b/year from its 'advertising' system. 'Advertising' in quotes because they're not selling ads, they're selling placements in search results.

The companies that spend the most on 'ads' go to the top, even if they're offering worse products at higher prices. If you click the first link in an Amazon search result, on average you will pay a 29% premium over the best price on the service. Click one of the first four items and you'll pay a 25% premium. On average you have to go seventeen items down to find the best deal on Amazon.

Any merchant that did this to you in a physical storefront would be fined into oblivion. But Amazon has captured its regulators, so it can violate your rights, and say, "it doesn't count, we did it with an app"

This is where that third constraint, self-help, would sure come in handy. If you don't want your privacy violated, you don't need to wait for the Irish privacy regulator to act, you can just install an ad-blocker.

More than half of all web users are blocking ads. But the web is an open platform, developed in the age when tech was hundreds of companies at each others' throats, unable to capture their regulators.

Today, the web is being devoured by apps, and apps are ripe for enshittification. Regulatory capture isn't just the ability to flout regulation, it's also the ability to co-opt regulation, to wield regulation against your adversaries.

Today's tech giants got big by exploiting self-help measures. When Facebook was telling Myspace users they needed to escape Rupert Murdoch’s evil crapulent Australian social media panopticon, it didn’t just say to those Myspacers, 'Screw your friends, come to Facebook and just hang out looking at the cool privacy policy until they get here'

It gave them a bot. You fed the bot your Myspace username and password, and it would login to Myspace and pretend to be you, and scrape everything waiting in your inbox, copying it to your FB inbox, and you could reply to it and it would autopilot your replies back to Myspace.

When Microsoft was choking off Apple's market oxygen by refusing to ship a functional version of Microsoft Office for the Mac – so that offices were throwing away their designers' Macs and giving them PCs with upgraded graphics cards and Windows versions of Photoshop and Illustrator – Steve Jobs didn't beg Bill Gates to update Mac Office.

He got his technologists to reverse-engineer Microsoft Office, and make a compatible suite, the iWork Suite, whose apps, Pages, Numbers and Keynote could perfectly read and write Microsoft's Word, Excel and Powerpoint files.

When Google entered the market, it sent its crawler to every web server on Earth, where it presented itself as a web-user: 'Hi! Hello! Do you have any web pages? Thanks! How about some more? How about more?'

But every pirate wants to be an admiral. When Facebook, Apple and Google were doing this adversarial interoperability, that was progress. If you try to do it to them, that's piracy.

Try to make an alternative client for Facebook and they'll say you violated US laws like the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and EU laws like Article 6 of the EUCD.

Try to make an Android program that can run iPhone apps and play back the data from Apple's media stores and they'd bomb you until the rubble bounced.

Try to scrape all of Google and they'll nuke you until you glowed.

Tech's regulatory capture is mind-boggling. Take that law I mentioned earlier, Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act or DMCA. Bill Clinton signed it in 1998, and the EU imported it as Article 6 of the EUCD in 2001

It is a blanket prohibition on removing any kind of encryption that restricts access to a copyrighted work – things like ripping DVDs or jailbreaking a phone – with penalties of a five-year prison sentence and a $500k fine for a first offense.

This law has been so broadened that it can be used to imprison creators for granting access to their own creations

Here's how that works: In 2008, Amazon bought Audible, an audiobook platform, in an anticompetitive acquisition. Today, Audible is a monopolist with more than 90% of the audiobook market. Audible requires that all creators on their platform sell with Amazon's "digital rights management," which locks it to Amazon's apps.

So say I write a book, then I read it into a mic, then I pay a director and an engineer thousands of dollars to turn that into an audiobook, and sell it to you on the monopoly platform, Audible, that controls more than 90% of the market.

If I later decide to leave Amazon and want to let you come with me to a rival platform, I am out of luck. If I supply you with a tool to remove Amazon's encryption from my audiobook, so you can play it in another app, I commit a felony, punishable by a 5-year sentence and a half-million-dollar fine, for a first offense.

That's a stiffer penalty than you would face if you simply pirated the audiobook from a torrent site. But it's also harsher than the punishment you'd get for shoplifting the audiobook on CD from a truck-stop. It's harsher than the sentence you'd get for hijacking the truck that delivered the CD.

So think of our ad-blockers again. 50% of web users are running ad-blockers. 0% of app users are running ad-blockers, because adding a blocker to an app requires that you first remove its encryption, and that's a felony (Jay Freeman calls this 'felony contempt of business-model').

So when someone in a board-room says, 'let's make our ads 20% more obnoxious and get a 2% revenue increase,' no one objects that this might prompt users to google, 'how do I block ads?' After all, the answer is, 'you can't.'

Indeed, it's more likely that someone in that board room will say, 'let's make our ads 100% more obnoxious and get a 10% revenue increase' (this is why every company wants you to install an app instead of using its website).

There's no reason that gig workers who are facing algorithmic wage discrimination couldn't install a counter-app that coordinated among all the Uber drivers to reject all jobs unless they reach a certain pay threshold.

No reason except felony contempt of business model, the threat that the toolsmiths who built that counter-app would go broke or land in prison, for violating DMCA 1201, the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, trademark, copyright, patent, contract, trade secrecy, nondisclosure and noncompete, or in other words: 'IP law.'

'IP' is just a euphemism for 'a law that lets me reach beyond the walls of my company and control the conduct of my critics, competitors and customers.' And 'app' is just a euphemism for 'a web-page wrapped enough IP to make it a felony to mod it to protect the labor, consumer and privacy rights of its user.'

We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company.

But what about that fourth constraint: workers?

For decades, tech workers' high degrees of bargaining power and vocational awe put a ceiling on enshittification. Even after the tech sector shrank to a handful of giants. Even after they captured their regulators so they could violate our consumer, privacy and labor rights. Even after they created 'felony contempt of business model' and extinguished self-help for tech users. Tech was still constrained by their workers' sense of moral injury in the face of the imperative to enshittify.

Remember when tech workers dreamed of working for a big company for a few years, before striking out on their own to start their own company that would knock that tech giant over?

Then that dream shrank to: work for a giant for a few years, quit, do a fake startup, get acqui-hired by your old employer, as a complicated way of getting a bonus and a promotion.

Then the dream shrank further: work for a tech giant for your whole life, get free kombucha and massages on Wednesdays.

And now, the dream is over. All that’s left is: work for a tech giant until they fire your ass, like those 12,000 Googlers who got fired last year six months after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years.

Workers are no longer a check on their bosses' worst impulses

Today, the response to 'I refuse to make this product worse' is, 'turn in your badge and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.'

I get that this is all a little depressing

OK, really depressing.

But hear me out! We've identified the disease. We've traced its natural history. We've identified its underlying mechanism. Now we can get to work on a cure.

There are four constraints that prevent enshittification: competition, regulation, self-help and labor.

To reverse enshittification and guard against its reemergence, we must restore and strengthen each of these.

On competition, it's actually looking pretty good. The EU, the UK, the US, Canada, Australia, Japan and China are all doing more on competition than they have in two generations. They're blocking mergers, unwinding existing ones, taking action on predatory pricing and other sleazy tactics.

Remember, in the US and Europe, we already have the laws to do this – we just stopped enforcing them in the Helmut Kohl era.

I've been fighting these fights with the Electronic Frontier Foundation for 22 years now, and I've never seen a more hopeful moment for sound, informed tech policy.

Now, the enshittifiers aren't taking this laying down. The business press can't stop talking about how stupid and old-fashioned all this stuff is. They call people like me 'hipster antitrust,' and they hate any regulator who actually does their job.

Take Lina Khan, the brilliant head of the US Federal Trade Commission, who has done more in three years on antitrust than the combined efforts of all her predecessors over the past 40 years. Rupert Murdoch's Wall Street Journal has run more than 80 editorials trashing Khan, insisting that she's an ineffectual ideologue who can't get anything done.

Sure, Rupert, that's why you ran 80 editorials about her.

Because she can't get anything done.

Even Canada is stepping up on competition. Canada! Land of the evil billionaire! From Ted Rogers, who owns the country's telecoms; to Galen Weston, who owns the country's grocery stores; to the Irvings, who basically own the entire province of New Brunswick.

Even Canada is doing something about this. Last autumn, Trudeau's government promised to update Canada's creaking competition law to finally ban 'abuse of dominance.'

I mean, wow. I guess when Galen Weston decided to engage in a criminal conspiracy to fix the price of bread – the most Les Miz-ass crime imaginable – it finally got someone's attention, eh?

Competition has a long way to go, but all over the world, competition law is seeing a massive revitalization. Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher put antitrust law in a coma in the 80s – but it's awake, it's back, and it's pissed.

What about regulation? How will we get tech companies to stop doing that one weird trick of adding 'with an app' to their crimes and escaping enforcement?

Well, here in the EU, they're starting to figure it out. This year, the Digital Markets Act and the Digital Services Act went into effect, and they let people who get screwed by tech companies go straight to the federal European courts, bypassing the toothless watchdogs in Europe's notorious corporate crime havens like Ireland.

In America, they might finally get a digital privacy law. You people have no idea how backwards US privacy law is. The last time the US Congress enacted a broadly applicable privacy law was in 1988.

The Video Privacy Protection Act makes it a crime for video-store clerks to leak your video-rental history. It was passed after a right-wing judge who was up for the Supreme Court had his rentals published in a DC newspaper. The rentals weren't even all that embarrassing!

Sure, that judge, Robert Bork, wasn't confirmed for the Supreme Court, but that was because he was a virulently racist loudmouth and a crook who served as Nixon's Solicitor General.

But Congress got the idea that their video records might be next, freaked out, and passed the VPPA.

That was the last time Americans got a big, national privacy law. Nineteen. Eighty. Eight.

It's been a minute.

And the thing is, there's a lot of people who are angry about stuff that has some nexus with America's piss-poor privacy landscape. Worried that Facebook turned Grampy into a Qanon? That Insta made your teen anorexic? That TikTok is brainwashing millennials into quoting Osama Bin Laden?

Or that cops are rolling up the identities of everyone at a Black Lives Matter protest or the Jan 6 riots by getting location data from Google?

Or that Red State Attorneys General are tracking teen girls to out-of-state abortion clinics?

Or that Black people are being discriminated against by online lending or hiring platforms?

Or that someone is making AI deepfake porn of you?

Having a federal privacy law with a private right of action – which means that individuals can sue companies that violate their privacy – would go a long way to rectifying all of these problems. There's a big coalition for that kind of privacy law.

What about self-help? That's a lot farther away, alas.

The EU's DMA will force tech companies to open up their walled gardens for interoperation. You'll be able to use Whatsapp to message people on iMessage, or quit Facebook and move to Mastodon, but still send messages to the people left behind.

But if you want to reverse-engineer one of those Big Tech products and mod it to work for you, not them, the EU's got nothing for you.

This is an area ripe for improvement, and I think the US might be the first ones to open this up.

It's certainly on-brand for the EU to be forcing tech companies to do things a certain way, while the US simply takes away tech companies' abilities to prevent others from changing how their stuff works.

My big hope here is that Stein's Law will take hold: 'Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop'

Letting companies decide how their customers must use their products is simply too tempting an invitation to mischief. HP has a whole building full of engineers thinking of new ways to lock your printer to its official ink cartridges, forcing you to spend $10,000/gallon on ink to print your boarding passes and shopping lists.

It's offensive. The only people who don't agree are the people running the monopolies in all the other industries, like the med-tech monopolists who are locking their insulin pumps to their glucose monitors, turning people with diabetes into walking inkjet printers.

Finally, there's labor. Here in Europe, there's much higher union density than in the US, which American tech barons are learning the hard way. There is nothing more satisfying in the daily news than the latest salvo by Nordic unions against that Tesla guy (Musk is the most Edison-ass Tesla guy imaginable).

But even in the USA, there's a massive surge in tech unions. Tech workers are realizing that they aren't founders in waiting. The days of free massages and facial piercings and getting to wear black tee shirts that say things your boss doesn't understand are coming to an end.

In Seattle, Amazon's tech workers walked out in sympathy with Amazon's warehouse workers, because they're all workers.

The only reason the tech workers aren't monitored by AI that notifies their managers if they visit the toilet during working hours is their rapidly dwindling bargaining power. The way things are going, Amazon programmers are going to be pissing in bottles next to their workstations (for a guy who built a penis-shaped rocket, Jeff Bezos really hates our kidneys).

We're seeing bold, muscular, global action on competition, regulation and labor, with self-help bringing up the rear. It's not a moment too soon, because the bad news is, enshittification is coming to every industry.

If it's got a networked computer in it, the people who made it can run the Darth Vader MBA playbook on it, changing the rules from moment to moment, violating your rights and then saying 'It's OK, we did it with an app.'

From Mercedes renting you your accelerator pedal by the month to Internet of Things dishwashers that lock you into proprietary dishsoap, enshittification is metastasizing into every corner of our lives.

Software doesn't eat the world, it enshittifies it

But there's a bright side to all this: if everyone is threatened by enshittification, then everyone has a stake in disenshittification.

Just as with privacy law in the US, the potential anti-enshittification coalition is massive, it's unstoppable.

The cynics among you might be skeptical that this will make a difference. After all, isn't "enshittification" the same as "capitalism"?

Well, no.

Look, I'm not going to cape for capitalism here. I'm hardly a true believer in markets as the most efficient allocators of resources and arbiters of policy – if there was ever any doubt, capitalism's total failure to grapple with the climate emergency surely erases it.

But the capitalism of 20 years ago made space for a wild and wooly internet, a space where people with disfavored views could find each other, offer mutual aid, and organize.

The capitalism of today has produced a global, digital ghost mall, filled with botshit, crapgadgets from companies with consonant-heavy brand-names, and cryptocurrency scams.

The internet isn't more important than the climate emergency, nor gender justice, racial justice, genocide, or inequality.

But the internet is the terrain we'll fight those fights on. Without a free, fair and open internet, the fight is lost before it's joined.

We can reverse the enshittification of the internet. We can halt the creeping enshittification of every digital device.

We can build a better, enshittification-resistant digital nervous system, one that is fit to coordinate the mass movements we will need to fight fascism, end genocide, and save our planet and our species.

Martin Luther King said 'It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, but it can stop him from lynching me, and I think that's pretty important.'

And it may be true that the law can't force corporate sociopaths to conceive of you as a human being entitled to dignity and fair treatment, and not just an ambulatory wallet, a supply of gut-bacteria for the immortal colony organism that is a limited liability corporation.

But it can make that exec fear you enough to treat you fairly and afford you dignity, even if he doesn't think you deserve it.

And I think that's pretty important.

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/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel/a>

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

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[arminsumi]

two freaks

CHOSO ちょうそう

note : choso crack lol. i love him.

synopsis : you and choso have been the weirdest, freakiest, off-beat duo since the very beginning. your chemistry with each other thoroughly confuses the people around you. just two freaks in freaky love with each other.

warnings : 🔞 some suggestive content, mentions weed/getting high, unedited

no one knows how you and choso started dating. it's a mystery of the universe.

because you and him were always like mismatched socks. and yet you ended up together, for some reason. hell, even when you and choso were just friends you made an inside joke with each other;

"i have a type and you're not it." you'd joke.

"yeah i could never date you, either." choso would joke back.

if one of you accidentally flirted with the other, then you'd laugh and accuse each other of being horny.

"you're horny." you'd say.

"no i'm high."

"i thought you were choso?"

"no i'm your man."

"shit alright, let's get married."

your friends would sometimes overhear this and pull a funny face.

("are you guys crazy or high?")

"bitch, we're both."

you and choso met each other one day at an instrument store. you were accompanying a friend, they were choosing a guitar to gift someone — or whatever it was. anyways, so you were there lingering.

"you listen to the smiths?" choso scrunched his nose up.

"what's that face for! the smiths are great!"

so you and choso stood there, arguing about music. your friend just let you two be and snickered with the store's staff, who knew choso well because he practically lived in the store with how much he visited.

you visited that music store a lot and met choso over and over again, probably for a year before even exchanging numbers. neither of you were interested in each other, and you always argued about music... or at least it seemed like that to everyone else.

you and choso had an underlying comedy to each argument — yes obviously the both of you knew it was not that serious. choso just enjoyed debating music with you and was excited that someone finally debated back. sometimes he disagreed with your opinions even if he agreed, it became an inside joke.

"i like... (artist)" you'd say and then choso would shift his shoulders and lift his chin and reply with "oh, well now i can't like them if you like them. i refuse to associate with you." and you two would laugh.

the music store's staff genuinely thought you two were high every time you spoke, but at the time choso had a rule of never getting high and going in public because he'd embarrassed himself too many times.

sometimes you'd have a spontaneous hang out with choso. because he was spontaneous and you aspired to be.

one time, he said something unexpected when he lit up a blunt. you and him were loitering by a fast food restaurant's drive-thru.

"you know, i like the chemistry between our souls. i think we must have known each other in a past life."

"do you think we were also freaks in our past lives?"

he laughed and nodded, rubbing his watery eye when smoke got into it.

"we were definitely freaks."

"well, i also think our souls have got good chemistry. our souls are freaky."

"yeah, freaky souls."

you and him stared at each other. he seemed high but the rush hadn't even kicked in yet, so it must have been just because of your company.

"yo..." he cooed awkwardly. "sorry, didn't mean to stare." he mumbled something like that and looked away.

"eyes are the gateway to the soul. were you trying to perve on my soul?" you joked.

"yeah, i totally just perved on your soul." he laughed.

on that day, you distinctively remember talking to choso about how you two would be the last people to ever date. and he replied with some joke about "what if it were the apocalypse and we had to breed for repopulation purposes?" (how did you reply? he can hardly remember, all he knows is that he blushed at your reply until his cheeks burned.)

and then a year after knowing each other you were making out violently in his car after some friendofafriend's party. maybe you kissed him because he charmed you by playing the guitar earlier that night — he looked hot doing it, with his hair down, plectrum in between his teeth as he tuned it.

too many times have people scrunch up their noses in confusion when you and choso act like a couple.

whenever they ask;

"oh, are you two dating?"

with a weird attitude in their voice, you and choso troll them;

"no, we're partners in crime."

"yeah i do the killing and she gets rid of the evidence then we make out violently in the back seat of my car."

they look like they regret asking anything about you two. clearly you and choso were freaks.

people in your friend group make jokes all the time about how choso's in it for the pussy and you're in it for the weed.

"no actually i've been cutting back on my pussy consumption." choso replies with a face so plain that you could take him seriously.

"oh i been hittin' that blunt from the back lately i just can't get enough of it."

you completely confuse the people around you and troll them just for amusement. but truly you and choso do get fed up sometimes. it's sickeningly repetitive.

sometimes choso gets snappy, especially if it's a guy asking you;

"that's your boyfriend?"

"yeah that's her boyfriend." choso clenches his jaw and steers you into his arms.

ah, and his most classic response;

"are you her boyfriend?"

"no, i'm her wife."

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[beaft]

you almost got arrested for armed robbery?? how????

(re the tags on this post)

at the time this story takes place i was 19 and an art student, which is shorthand for “emotionally unstable and taking a lot of drugs” so please do not judge me on the basis of this incident as i am now much calmer and less prone to making foolish decisions, or at least the foolish decisions i make tend to be mildly embarrassing rather than illegal and/or life-threatening.

be me

attend house party

vibes are rancid

decide to dip and find a convenient rooftop so i can sit and look at the moon

while i am sitting on this rooftop looking at the moon and basking in the effects of the 2 tabs of acid i just took, i cannot help but notice that there is a commotion happening in the apartment block across the street from me

lots of shouting

windows are being smashed

tvs are being carried out and loaded into vans

“huh” i think

“That’s not good”

at which point, naturally,

the cops show up.

they start shouting and gesturing, clearly indicating that they would like me to come down from the rooftop

i obey

(2 tabs of acid)

i have just enough presence of mind to slip the additional baggie of coke i'm carrying in my pocket into a nearby wheelie bin so they don't find it if they search me

(TRAGEDY.)

as soon as i’m off the roof the cops swarm and start asking various questions like “what's your name?" and "what did you see?” and “what were you doing up there?”

all questions that i would find quite easy to answer if i had a working tongue and brain

i am attempting to seem like a law-abiding citizen but even in my extravagantly deranged state i can tell i am not pulling it off

cops are getting more and more suspicious

cop 1’s radio crackles with an onlooker's description of one of the suspects who was, according to the onlooker, “acting as lookout”

suspect (we are informed) has short blue hair and is wearing a leather coat

the cops stare at me as this information is relayed

i stare back, undeniably blue-haired and leather-coated

it abruptly occurs to me that i am being treated as A Suspect in this armed robbery

which. yes. obviously, very silly, because i'm a gay art student who can't buy energy drinks without being ID'd and stammers when making phone calls to anyone who isn't my mum. but also it's hard to see the silly side when you're being grilled by the police and your only defence is "i couldn't have done this illegal thing because i was busy doing this other, unrelated illegal thing"

i would describe the following conversation to you but unfortunately i was so high and in such a haze of unbridled panic that i remember very little of it

however at the time of writing this i am not in jail so we must assume that they decided I was too stupid to have been involved and let me go home

my only other recollection from that night is coming down to discover that i was sitting in my friend's creepily empty flat and couldn't remember how i'd got there, and for some reason i was halfway through watching "high school musical two" on DVD and enjoying it thoroughly. i had also lost both my shoes.

was a good rooftop though 10/10 would climb again

[watchyourbuck]

okay i feel like i have one more thing to say tonight and that is that the fact that im a buddie endgame shipper does not mean i am not saddened and upset about the way they went with the bucktommy breakup. ive been trying for months now to remain impartial in the whole fandom war bc i genuinely feel like they are useless. as a multishipper, i like to see my characters happy, no matter if it breaks one or even my main ship. but the way they did this, in my humble opinion, that could very easily not be yours, was bad writing, rushed, and to some extent distasteful. if the story gradually moved towards a breakup that made sense, i would've grieved the ship ive thoroughly enjoyed since april, but i would've understood (and i know some fellow bt shippers feel the same, even if they dont partake in buddie) ((also, yes, im aware we're just on ep6)), but to me, tonight's ep felt like a testament that they, in fact, have no idea where they're going with the storyline. i wish to believe we shouldnt take the interviews to heart, as we've been lied to and played with before, but i also can't help but feel disappointed. they (tim particularly) painted this couple as some sort of lighthouse for buck. yes, new and exciting, but also, beautiful and consensual and not in some weird gratitute exchange. do not get me wrong, i am in love with the way they're slowly but surely moving towards the queer eddie-possible buddie arc bc yes, that is what i wanted from the very beginning, but i also feel like we lost a very important, very pioneer ship that meant a lot for the community - viewed from a media representation pov, of course - in the most graceless way possible. if the plan was to break them up all along, for buck to end up with someone else, whoever that may be, they could've handled it with more delicacy. i hope im wrong and they give them a proper ending, should that be the case.

[forever-rogue]

Hi! Could we get a Eddie fic where it’s like a timeline throughout their relationship? How they first met, first date, engagement etc? Maybe even the first fight for some angst 👀😂

AN | Please! This idea is so sweet, but also I couldn’t help myself so this is singledad!eddie as well 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 5.4k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first time Eddie Munson met you…he didn't exactly like you. You just weren't his type in any sense of the word - not his type of friend, his type of girl, or his type of associate. He never would have thought that the two of you would have any sort of relationship. It would actually have been laughable to him, if someone had told him you’d be anything more than a bi-yearly presence in his life. 

But here you were, the sweet, kind dental assistant that greeted him and his son as they walked into the new dental practice. As soon as Eddie had completed the new patient paperwork and was checked in, you walked up front and called out his son’s name. 

The first thing Eddie had noticed was how pretty you were - he could own up to that but the second thing he noticed was how kind and gentle you were with his little boy. Jamie Munson was a small, shy little boy who had been terrified at the idea of going to the dentist. But you had some sort of magical power because the boy relaxed and came willingly with you, Eddie in tow. He had to hand it to you; you had a way with Jamie…and with him. 

When it turned out that Jamie was having a bit of an issue with some of his permanent teeth that were coming in, he quickly realized that he was going to be seeing more of you. For some odd, unexplainable reason, thrilled and terrified him. There was something so magnetic about you that it made his stomach flutter with butterflies. It didn’t help that Jamie had practically fallen in love with you and thoroughly enjoyed telling anyone and everyone about the nice lady at the dentist.

To top it all off, Eddie found himself drawn to you as well, finding any and every excuse to talk to you whenever he was in the office. And to his surprise - and yours - he asked you out. It was fumbled and awkward and sweet, all Eddie and priceless. When you’d said yes without hesitation, Eddie had been shocked. When you told him that you had thought about asking him out as well, he was sure he was dreaming.

When you showed up to what turned out to be the first date of many, he was convinced he was living in a sweet, lavender haze.

But it was real, and you were real, and before either of you knew it - it had all become a vivid, beautiful reality. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your stomach was in knots as you waited for Eddie to pick you up for your date. Your first date. You never would have thought the metalhead would have one, felt the same as you did and two, actually ask you out. You were almost polar opposites, but you’d developed your attraction to him rather quickly. So quickly that it was almost scary. When he’d shyly asked you out, fumbling over his words and stammering nervously, as he got ready to leave with Jamie, you’d said yes almost instantly. 

And…now you were anxiously waiting for him. You looked yourself over in the full length mirror, wondering if you were dressed too formally and or too casually. Your dress was light and pretty, perfect for the summer and you slipped on your shoes before you could talk yourself into changing. Before you could worry too much you heard a loud knock at the door. 

“Ugh,” you groaned at your reflection before deciding you looked fine enough and quickly padding to the door. You threw it open without even making sure that it really was Eddie and found yourself breathless as you looked up at him. There was a big, nervous smile on his face and a pretty bouquet of wildflowers in his hand, “Eddie.”

“That’s me,” he chuckled nervously as you slowly stopped yourself from freaking out, “these are for you, sweetheart.”

“They’re beautiful,” you gently took them and clutched them to your chest, “thank you so much.”

“O-of course,” he followed you inside as you walked to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. He looked around, trying to get a feel for you who were outside of the scrubs and office, “you look really pretty.”

“Thank you,” your cheeks - your entire face - warmed up under his attention and concentrated your efforts on arranging your flowers, “you clean up nicely yourself, handsome.”

“Figured I had to try if I wanted to stand a chance of looking remotely like I should be taking you out,” you snorted in amusement at his silly antics. There was something about that was relaxing and made you feel like you’d already known him for so long. This was definitely something you could get used to, “but I’m glad I hit the mark.”

“More than,” you promised sweetly, “flowers and handsome? It’s coming up cherries already. Where are we headed tonight?”

“That’s a surprise!” he grinned eagerly, “if that’s okay with you.”

“It’s perfect, Eddie. Really,” your reassurance made him already feel like he had an actual chance with you, “let’s go!”

Eddie had been debating on what to do for your first date since he'd asked last week. He wasn't sure what angle he should take - fancy and formal or casual and fun - eventually he settled on just being himself. Being the fun, dorky Eddie that he was. Which turned out to be the best thing possible.

"No way!" Your eyes lit up when he pulled up to the arcade, and you saw all that it had to offer. He'd been watching your face the entire time, trying to gauge your reaction. He hoped you didn't think it was too much of a single dad move, like it was the only thing he could think of, "I am totally kicking your ass at mini-golf!"

That brought a smile to his face, "you wish, princess. I happen to be a mini-golfing pro - I can beat a five-year-old and I'll beat you too!"

"You're so on," you almost jumped out of the car, motioning for him to hurry up, "and you're going down at air hockey too!"

"You're just a dork too," he reached for your hand without having to think about it, worrying for a moment that he was being too bold, but realized when you laced your fingers with his, "I was thinking after this we could go to that new diner for dinner. I-if that sounds okay, of course."

"It's perfect," you couldn't stop yourself from kissing his cheek excitedly, "I couldn't think of anything better!"

And Eddie was positive he fell in love with you then and there.

When he dropped you off later that night, he could barely manage to keep it together. He hadn’t planned on kissing you, not because he didn’t want to because he really did, but because he had been so nervous. He didn’t want to fuck anything up; but then you went and kissed him of your own initiative and he almost melted into a puddle on your doorstep. 

“I had a good time tonight,” you touched his cheek before kissing him one last time, “I…I’d love to do this again, if you’d like.”

“I’ve love to,” his cheeks pinked as he nodded eagerly, “d-definitely.”

“Cool,” you bit the inside of your cheek, butterflies fluttering all around your stomach, “call me?”

“Of course,” he promised softy, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, sweetheart. Have a good night.”

“You too, Eddie,” you whispered, watching as he reluctantly stepped off your porch and towards his van, “good night.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d been with Eddie for just over two years now. It was hard to believe it had been that long already but at the same time it felt like it had been forever. The two of you had fallen into each other’s lives so seamlessly. One of the best parts was that the two of you almost never fought. But, like with everything in life, something had to give. 

Eventually you were going to have your first fight. It was inevitable…right? Right.

“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie came home to find you in the kitchen, singing along to whatever record you’d thrown on the vintage player. The kitchen smelled delicious, clear evidence that you’d been baking which also made his stomach grumble, “something smells good.”

“Hey my love,” you grinned as you walked over to him, putting your hands on his shoulders as you leaned up to kiss him, “missed you today.”

“Missed you too,” he stole a few more kisses before eagerly eyeing the pie you had cooling on the counter, “it smells amazing.”

“Nuh uh,” you teased, “these are for the bake sale at Jamie’s school tomorrow. I’ll make us something later, promise.”

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically as you snorted in amusement, “where is the kiddo, anyway?”

“With the Carlstroms,” you turned back to mixing the brownie batter as Eddie raised an eyebrow, “they were going to the theme park and asked if he could go along so I said yes. He really likes Eric so I figured they’d have fun and I’d be able to get all this baking done. They’ll be back tonight.”

“You just let him go?” Edide asked and you could tell from the tone in his voice that something was off, “without even bothering to ask me?”

“Ummm…yeah?” you answered softly, giving him a sheepish shrug, “you were at work, and Jamie’s over at their house a lot so I figured it was okay. We know them, and I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“He’s my son,” he said quietly and your entire face fell as you realized what he was saying. You're not his mother, “you can’t just go and make decisions without me.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered nervously, feeling tears already well up in your eyes, “I-I didn’t mean to sidestep you or anything, I really didn’t think it was a big deal. I’m sorry, I should have asked you before just saying yes.”

“Didn’t think it was a big deal?” he scoffed, “what if something happened and I had no clue where he was? He’s just a kid!”

“Eddie-”

“Don’t,” he shook his head and started to back out of the kitchen, “I’m going to go outside and cool off.”

You watched him go without a word, tears running down your cheeks. You hastily wiped them away with the sleeve of your sweater, trying to hide your sniffle. If you thought, even remotely, that this would have been a big deal, you would have asked Eddie first. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at all; you loved and adored Jamie as though he was your own son and you’d never do anything to put him even in the smallest bit of danger. You hoped that Eddie would understand that at some point. You loved both of them with your entire heart. 

Eddie came back home a hours later, and while you had been worried, you knew that more than likely he had gone to Wayne’s place. That man could talk sense into him and if nothing else, he often served as a neutral third party.

By the time he got back, Jamie was already home, worn out from playing and being in the warm sun, inadvertently napping on the couch. Eddie relaxed when he saw the small boy, affectionately ruffling his hair before finding you. 

“Hey,” he rapped his knuckles gently against the wall as he found you still baking. You turned to him with a nervous expression, a hesitant smile on your face.

“Hi,” you whispered as you stopped what you were doing and set the tray of cookies down, “listen, Eddie-”

“Hang on,” he gently interrupted you, stepping closer and reached out to gently touch your cheek, “before you say anything else, I want to apologize. I shouldn’t have talked to you the way I did or said what I did. I’m sorry…I hope you can forgive me.”

You softened from his words, leaning into his touch as he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, “I do…of course I do. But I am sorry for not checking in with you. You’re right too, you’re his dad and it wasn’t my place to make that decision.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I shouldn’t have said that either. Not how I did - I am his dad but you’re his mom. And it is your place to make decisions like that. I guess sometimes I still have a little bit of a hard time remembering that I’m not a single dad anymore, especially when I’ve got someone so brilliant and amazing and wonderful by my side.”

“Eddie-”

“I mean it,” he promised and you knew that he was speaking from the heart, “all of it. I love you, baby.”

“I love you too,” you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him and hugging onto him like a koala, “so much. You and Jamie.”

“I know it and so does he,” Eddie sighed softly and pressed a kissed to the side of your head, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking me back,” he chuckled nervously, “not kicking me right to the curb.”

“One little disagreement isn’t going to break us apart,” you insisted gently, “things like this are normal and they’re going to pop up every now and then. But we love each other and we’re a family, so we’re always going to work it out.”

“Of course,” the part of him that worried you would just leave when things got hard was always going to be there, even if just a little bit. But he knew, more than anything, that you were never going anywhere. You were it, you were his forever.

“Daddy? Mama?” Jamie padded into the kitchen and his sweet little voice made you melt. He started calling you that out of his own volition, and it had made you happier than anything. Eddie had panicked and wanted to make sure it was okay, but when you reassured him that it was more than okay, you both knew that this was it. You were a family, “can I have a cookie?”

You exchanged a look with Eddie and you both playfully rolled your eyes. You grabbed one of the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies and broke it in half, handing a piece to both of your boys, “there we are. Good?”

“Mhmm,” Jamie nodded through a mouthful of cookie, crumbs already on his face. The sight was too adorable.

“Perfect,” Eddie whispered as he looked into your eyes, “absolutely perfect.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d noticed that Eddie had been acting nervous all day. You wondered if something was wrong, with either him or Jamie, but didn’t say anything. The young boy had seemed fine when Eddie left to drop him off at school in the morning. But Eddie seemed jumpy and off all morning. You’d caught him off guard more than a few times and he looked like he’d committed some sort of crime. When you’d asked him what was wrong, he’d insisted that nothing was wrong but you could tell that he was lying; you knew him well enough by now. Your two-year anniversary was coming up soon and you basically knew him like a book. Which also meant that you knew he would come forward and tell you what was going on eventually. 

But when you got home…things were still off. 

As soon as you walked through the front door you let out a long sigh as you kicked off your shoes and set your purse down. It had been such a long day involving screaming and sick children, irate parents, and malfunctioning tools. All you had been dreaming of doing was coming home and relaxing with your two loves. 

“Eddie?” you softly called out his name as you walked into the kitchen; something smelled delicious already and was practically making your mouth water. You found him standing at the counter, intently cutting up some vegetables. You leaned against the counter and looked at him with starry eyes, as he met your eyes and offered you a small smile in return, “hey handsome.”

“Hey baby,” you could see his shoulders relaxing as he turned to you and leaned in to kiss you. You leaned into his touch, and let him kiss you softly, practically melting into him. When he pulled back, you tenderly took his face in your hands and pressed a few more kisses to his lips. By the time you pulled back he was grinning at you with a pretty pink flush to his cheeks, “missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” you sighed dramatically, causing him to laugh fondly at your silly antics, “lemme take a shower and then I’ll be back to whine all about it.”

“It’s not whining,” he insisted as he often did, “and you know I’ll listen to you talk about anything and everything.”

“You’re a good man,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “hey, where’s Jamie?”

“He’s having a sleepover with Jasmine and Ryan over at the Harrington’s,” he explained and you nodded in understanding. You loved that Eddie and Steve were best friends and that their kids were growing up to be the same, “last minute thing, you know how kids are. It’s just us tonight.”

“Oh?” you raised an amusement as he snorted in amusement, “you know what that means-”

“It means you need to hurry up and shower and come back to me," he flourished his hand, before grabbing the knife and going back to chopping, "because tonight we won't be interrupted by a little visitor."

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes or less!” you practically ran up the stairs to your bedroom, ripping off your clothes as you grabbed a fresh set of pajamas. It wasn't too late into the evening but you weren't about to put real clothes back on; instead you settled on the most comfy pajamas you had, which were a pair of Eddie's boxers and an old, cozy sweater. Definitely not the sexiest outfit but perfect for a quiet evening in. 

By the time you made your way back downstairs over half an hour had passed and Eddie was dishing up dinner. Your eyes widened at the sweet gesture and it was then that you noticed the pretty vase with all of your favorite flowers on the dining table.

"Oh, my love," you were touched that your sweet, adorable goof of a boyfriend had remembered your favorites and done this for you, "this is amazing. You are amazing."

"I…" he trailed off as he looked you over, big brown eyes growing soft, "wow."

"What?" You looked down at yourself in confusion before turning back to him, "what's wrong?"

"You're so fuckin' beautiful,” your entire face felt like it was on fire from his sweet words. You shook your head, wondering what had gotten into him, but he immediately shook his head as though he could hear the words in your head. He reached over and gently took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his, “I mean it.”

“I’m wearing ratty old pajamas, my hair is wet, and I’m pretty sure I look like I haven’t slept in two weeks,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and brought his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “but thank you.”

“You’re always beautiful,” he promised as he took your hand and pulled you towards the table. You sat down and watched as he set a plate full of all your favorites in front of you, followed by a freshly opened bottle of beer. He did the same for himself and sat down next to you, motioned for you to dig in, “I hope it’s okay. I know you’re the chef in the family but I tried.”

“Eddie,” he loved the way you said his name, almost like a prayer, so gentle and reverent, “you could have made boxed mac and cheese and I would have loved it. Thank you for this, seriously.”

“Anything for you, baby,” he insisted softly as you nodded, “you know that.”

“What’s the occasion?” you grabbed a forkful and shoved it into your mouth as he paled. You raised an eyebrow and swallowed it quickly, “for making all of my favorites.”

“N-nothing,” he said quickly, his voice climbing an octave. You knew that whatever had been on his mind earlier was clearly still stuck in there, “just wanted to do something special for my girl. Tell me about your day, baby. I’m guessing from your sigh that it was either bad kids or bad parents.”

“Both,” you groaned before launching into a full rundown of your day. Eddie listened intently, making you laugh when you needed it and otherwise providing a listening ear. When you finally got it all off your chest, feeling so much better than you had throughout the day, you asked Eddie about his day and listened just as he had. 

The two of you just worked so well together, meshing into each other's lives as though it was always meant to be. And, you supposed, that’s exactly what it was.

After dinner, you cleaned up the kitchen before deciding that the whole evening called for some ice cream and a movie. Eddie even let you choose the film, and you settled on a romantic comedy that you’d been wanting to see. You knew it wasn’t his favorite, but he always watched them with you and you knew that deep down it wasn’t too bad for him either. You promised to watch a horror movie of his choosing in return, and he eagerly accepted your offer. 

Throughout the movie you could feel his gaze shift back to you. He clearly wasn't paying too much attention and had something on his mind. Once you were finished with your bowl of ice cream, you set it down on the table and turned to him with a sigh.

"Edward," your use of his full name caught his attention and he turned to you with a sheepish smile, "what's going on? Tell me."

"N-nothing-"

"Bullshit," you groaned, "you've been acting off all day. Is it something I did or said? Are you okay?"

He looked at you for a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh and getting off the couch. You looked at him in confusion, hoping you hadn't said something to upset him. You watched as he quickly ran upstairs and you could hear him fumbling around in the bedroom before coming back downstairs.

"Eddie?" You weren't even sure if you should be worried or confused or…something but you were starting to panic.

"Baby," he stood in front of you and you could see his hand trembling with nerves, "I, ugh, this isn't what I planned at all. Not like this but umm, I gotta do it now or I'll never be able to."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"W-what? No," he shook his head fervently, curls bouncing around, "the opposite actually. I-I love you so much. I never expected to meet you or fall in love with you or anything. I just assumed I'd see you twice a year at the dentist's office with my kid. But that obviously changed, and now we're here. And you, you've always been so good to me, and you've been so good to Jamie and I never thought I'd meet someone that loved both me and my son. And we love you so much, and you're just…what I've always been missing and wanting…"

"Eddie?"

"I wasn't planning on doing this tonight but you're just so…everything that I can't not," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, dropping to his knee before he opened it. Oh. This definitely wasn't what you had expected - at all. He opened the blue velvet box and inside sat the prettiest ring you'd ever seen, "will you…will you marry me?"

"Yes," you didn't even hesitate for a moment but then quickly realized the gravity of it all, "wait - you want to marry me? Like for real?"

"For real for real and forever," he grinned as he pulled out the ring and reached for your hand, delicately slipping it on, "the question really is do you want to put up with me forever?"

"It's not putting up with you," you promised, "not with someone you love. And obviously the answer is yes. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you and Jamie."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he admired how the ring on your hand looked before pulling you in and kissing you sweetly, "I love you, so much. I'm sorry this wasn't the most romantic thing in the world."

"This is perfect," you insisted, "I love you more than anything."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stared at the stick in your hand and then up at your reflection in the mirror. It was almost like you didn’t know if you should trust either the rest or yourself. But a million emotions started swirling up all at once and with all the other signs that had led you to getting the test in the first place made sense. The little stick exclaiming pregnant wasn’t wrong at all. 

“Holy…fuck,” you whispered to yourself, still in disbelief, “how am I going to tell them?”

“How are you going to tell who and what?” Eddie. Of course your husband had to come home and upstairs at that exact moment. Him and his perfect timing; you could practically curse the universe for it. He was grinning, all big and dopey, at you as he leaned against the door, “what’s wrong, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y-you’re here…”

“I am here…in my home after work,” he held up his hands and waved them around as you swallowed thickly, “alright, out with it. What’s up?”

“Here!” you practically shoved the white plastic stick into his hand, squeezing your eyes shut as you anticipated his reaction. You were almost positive that it wouldn’t be bad, but your stomach still churned with nerves…baby you supposed.

“What the fuck,” he whispered it so softly that you almost didn’t hear it. He looked at you with wide eyes as he held up the test, “you’re pregnant?”

“Uh huh,” you nodded dumbfoundedly as you shrugged your shoulders, “I-I guess so.”

“Wow,” he opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking like a fish out of water, “you’re pregnant.”

“I’m sorry,” it blurted out before you could even think about; it was just your natural instinct.

“Baby, why are you sorry?” his face fell as he wondered if you didn’t want to have this baby at all. Maybe you were upset at the positive test while he felt exactly the opposite way, “do you not want this?”

“No, no, no - I do,” you promised and he relaxed slightly, “yes, god, yes I do. I just…it’s habit? I feel like a kid right now, pregnant and feeling a hundred different emotions right now.”

“Well, princess, I’m happy to tell you that while you are pregnant, which I am very, very excited for, you’re in our home and we’re married and have things kind of figured out.”

And that was enough to make you feel better and relax…but it also made tears well up in your eyes as you studied your husband, “I’m excited too. Nervous, but excited.”

“C’mere,” he set the test down on the counter and pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you as you melted into his warm, soft body. Eddie could feel your tears soaking the fabric of his shirt, and he responded by pressing soft kisses to the side of your head and rubbing your back in soothing circles, “I love you so much. I can’t even imagine what you’re feeling, but fuck I’m so in love with you. There’s no one else I could ever imagine doing this with.”

“Really?” you looked at him with wide, teary eyes and he nodded softly before pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“You’re already an amazing mother,” he reminded you, causing your heart to swell. You loved Jamie so much, just as though he was your own, which you knew he basically was. At the beginning you worried if the young boy would ever accept you as his stepmother or even tolerate you. But it was so much more than that - you were his mother and he was your son. And now you were adding another little Munson to the mix, “and you will always be.”

“Thank you,” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry and Eddie couldn’t help but kiss away your pout. He didn’t stop until he felt you smiling against his lips, “you’re an amazing dad, best friend, husband…everything.”

“Flatterer,” he teased as you giggled at him, “we’ll figure it all out together. And if you ever want to kick my ass for knocking you up, I give you full permission.”

“I’m sure - no, I know, I’ll take you up on that offer at some point,” you shook your head at your husband’s silly antics, “no we just gotta figure out how to tell Jamie.”

“You can just tell me,” you heard his small voice as he padded into your bedroom and jumped onto the bed. You and Eddie exchanged a look before he shrugged at you as you sighed softly. These Munson men were going to be the death of you. 

“Should we?” you asked him under your breath as Jamie watched the two of you intently.

“It’s up to you, mama,” he kissed your cheek, “he might just explode if we don’t tell him…or he’ll figure it out in a day or two.”

“He’s too smart,” you agreed before sliding past Eddie out of the ensuite and over to Jamie. You crouched down so you were almost eye level with him and tenderly brushed a few rogue curls out of his face, “oh, my love. Daddy and I…we have some news to share with you.”

“Are we getting a dog?” his big, brown eyes practically glittered with excitement as you chuckled softly at him.

“Not quite buddy,” Jamie looked at Eddie in confusion before turning back to you. You were ready to go out and get this sweet boy his new dog and whatever else you wanted. But…you were pretty sure that was just the hormones talking…no need to get too crazy just yet.

“Oh…what is it then, mama?”

“Umm…well,” you swallowed the lump that had welled up, “we’re having…you’re…you’re going to get a little brother or sister soon.”

He was quiet for a moment and your heart started to hammer in your chest as you worried that he was going to be upset. That would definitely have crushed your soul a little bit. But then, you heard him gasp excitedly before he threw his small arms around you in his best attempt to hug you; you didn’t hesitate to tightly hug him back, “finally! When?!”

“It’s going to be a little while bud,” Eddie answered softly, coming over to sit on the bed next to his son. He leaned over and kissed the top of his head, “mama’s gotta grow them first.”

“Wow,” he looked at you with nothing short of awe as you beamed at him, “I’m gonna tell all my friends! I’ve been wishing for a brother or sister for s’long now. Finally!”

You exchanged a look with Eddie, both of you laughing softly. This was everything you could have dreamed of and more.

“Ahh, I love you both so much,” Eddie pulled you both in for a hug, squeezing you until you and Jamie were giggling wildly, “my three favorite people all in my arms.”

And yeah. This was everything.

[ocean-blue-orchids]

Pocky Panic pt 2!

This is a continuation of the “what if Yuu introduced the pocky game to NRC and it caught like wildfire” prompt from @the-fab-fox ! I took some of the pairings he suggested and wrote some of them! And snuck my own oc in too because :3 I can :3

Gay chicken and tooth rotting fluff ahead‼️

Pairings are: Trey x Vil, Riddle x Floyd (this one has a short drabble too!), Azul x Cater, Jade x Ruggie x Jamil, Leona x Silver, n2squad (aka Jamil x Leona x Vil, named and basically created by @mellosdrawings), Jade x Finn x Trey (Finn being @the-fab-fox’s oc, hope I did him justice!), and Wiro x Sebek (Wiro being my own silly little guy oc bebo)

This is all mostly off the top of my head and absolutely not beta read lol. I hope people enjoy!

Trey x Vil

-going back to the “vil wont participate because of the sugar content in Pocky” thing…we know Trey has baked healthier sweets for Vil before and by GOD does he have some extra motivation to do it now

-A giant variety all in Vil’s favorite flavors (which based on his favorite food of smoothies, is probably fruity flavors), and he bundles them up in a bag and puts a nutrition label on it and Trey you aren’t beating the mom friend allegations ever

-But yes this does indeed work and Vil has to try to keep cool and act like this very romantic act that’s tailored directly to him doesn’t make him want to giggle into a pillow like a teenage girl.

-That’s hard to do when he’s also like an inch from Trey’s face but. Well. It’s fine he’s fine

Riddle x Floyd pt 2 eelectric boogalo aka “Candi somehow convinces themselves to super ship FloRid after years of not really caring for the ship just by writing some fluff”

-Hm yeah I can say more on this topic. Because Riddle could literally collar Floyd and he would STILL be begging to play this with him

-I mean, it’s Goldfishie! Every reaction Riddle has is like Floyd’s favorite personal react channel. He needs to see how this would go

-But after being collared twice and almost getting hit by a flying cauldron once (thanks Deuce) he is completely lost for ideas

-He complains about this during a basketball club meeting…and maybe Ace is annoyed with Riddle for one reason or another, and he mentions the fact that rule #267 is that any new sweets that are to be presented at an unbirthday party must be thoroughly taste tested by the Queen first!

-And there’s a taste testing day coming up soon…

-Cut to Floyd baking up a STORM in the Mostro Lounge kitchen (which Azul is typically fine with, since he gets to add new things to the menu). Floyd gets the hang of making pocky pretty fast and bakes a bunch. And then maybe he breaks into Heartslaybul to plant the pocky in with the other sweets. And then also he hides in the room with the sweets overnight

-I mean he is an ambush predator so-

-And woagh! The plan works and now Riddle is shouting because Floyd jumpscared him when he went to inspect the pile of sweets

-oh my god I’m writing a snippet AGAIN? Man we’re only two ships in but the voices. The voices!!!

—————

Riddle instinctively tossed the first thing in his hands at the intruder-a frosted sugar cookie. Floyd caught it in his mouth with minimal effort.

“Mmh. Dish ish good stuff, Goldfishie~”

Riddle’s face moved on from pale shock into a pinkish red as he realized who he was dealing with. He should have expected this-who else would bury themselves in the Heartslaybul pantry like some sort of raccoon?!

“But not as good as your face right now~! Man, you really should get a portable mirror, you’re missing out on yourself.”

“This is absolutely UNACCEPTABLE! I know you like to cause chaos, Floyd, but this is a new level of ridiculousness! When I tell Azul that you’ve been snooping around the Heartslaybul pastry storage, he’ll-“

“Eh…why’dya think I’d care if you told ‘zul? Not like he’s my dad or somethin…”

Floyd stood up from where he had been hiding all night, his body making slightly unnatural clicking sounds as he stretched.

“Besides, don’tcha have a bunch of taste testin to do now? Why waste your time yelling at me?”

Riddle’s face was currently at tomato red, working its way up to beet-but he paused to think about what Floyd was saying. He scanned the pile of containers and counted at least fifteen new sweets to taste test…and he had a study session in an hour, and it absolutely wouldn’t do to be late-!

“…you’re right. For once. Now get out of here so I can get to work! You have ten seconds before I collar you and send you back to Azul with your tail between your-or-your legs between…uh…TEN, NINE, EIGHT-“

“Aw, come on!”

“-SEVEN, SIX, FIVE, FOUR-“

“I’m here to help youuuu…”

“-THREE, TWO-“

“You can’t follow your rules without my help!”

“-..? What are you talking about?”

“That rule you gotta follow says that you have to give a thorough examination of the sweets.”

Floyd approached Riddle, leaning down slightly to lift a container filled with the sweets that had been the bane of Riddle’s existence for the past week. He shook it slightly for emphasis.

“How did you know about that rule-no, that’s not important. There’s nothing about those dreadful fad sweets that I need your help with.”

“Oh yeah? You don’t think you gotta put it through a pocky game stress test? Seems pretty neglectful of you to ignore that…”

Riddle took a moment to run that absolutely insane logic through his head…and the conclusion he came to made him let out a small huff. He snatched the container out of Floyd’s hand, opened it, and took out a pocky, pointing it at the eel.

“Very well. Your logic is…somewhat sound. And I’m on a time crunch as is. So you get one. Game.”

Floyd’s eyes widened like a dog being shown a new treat. He grinned, his face now a mix of sinister satisfaction and childish glee.

“Yaaaay~! Ok, ok, Floydie’s going first!

He eagerly leaned down slightly and bit his end of the pocky. It was raspberry flavored, and sure enough it was delicious. The ball was now in Riddle’s court.

Riddle was glad he was in his dorm uniform, his heels gave him the hight to reach his end of the pocky.

It’s just some candy. Just a silly little game.

Riddle bit down, not looking at Floyd-who was keenly looking at Riddle’s face.

Floyd took a surprisingly small bite. They weren’t too close now…maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Riddle took a similarly small bite.

Then Floyd followed by halving the length of the treat-Riddle was so close that he could swear he had heard a second pair of teeth crunch down on it.

For once, his face was turning red for a different reason.

Floyd grinned, almost giggling like a child at the sight.

Two more bites later, and the pair were almost out of pocky. Riddle looked at the pocky, then at Floyd. That was a mistake-Floyd was still looking right at him! The eye contact startled him and kept his face matching the pink hue of the pocky in their mouths.

Riddle had never willingly been this close to Floyd, and any time he had gotten this close before, he would quickly blast Floyd away. But now that he was so close…

Had Floyd always looked at him so intensely?

If Riddle didn’t know better, he could almost see a look of admiration on Floyd’s face.

No, no. That’s silly. It’s just entertainment. Maybe…this could still work out in Riddle’s favor. Floyd was just a childish eel, after all, and the best way to handle him would be just giving him the funny experience he wanted so bad. Just a peck on the lips, and he would probably finally get bored and move on to pestering someone else.

Riddle bit down on the last section of pocky. If Floyd didn’t chicken out, which was unlikely, the next bite would be a collision. Their lips were so close, he was surprised they weren’t already touching. It almost felt like they were.

Floyd wasted almost no time once the ball was in his court. He snatched up the last bit of pocky, and kissed Riddle.

It was an awkward kiss, their lips adjusting from holding the candy to a proper peck on the lips. It didn’t help that both of their eyes were open. Despite the butterflies in his stomach (which he was willfully ignoring), Riddle hoped this would be over soon so that Floyd stopped looking at him with that dumb look on his face.

That stupid smile totally screamed “haha, I won!”, didn’t it?

And the way he was leaning forward was clearly to try and knock Riddle off of his balance since he was already feeling lightheaded-which was only because of the strange situation, of course!

And the look in Floyd’s eyes…

Was…

The look in Floyd’s eyes was one that Riddle hadn’t gotten a good glimpse of before. He had thought he had seen the look once or twice, but whenever he saw it, it swiftly disappeared. Now he finally had a chance to see that Floyd was looking at him with…

No, it couldn’t be. Floyd couldn’t be looking at him with adoration. That had to be wrong-this was just him playing a little game with his favorite toy! So he should look like he’s proud of himself, or he should have that dumb sweet face he makes when he’s just told a funny joke, or-

The kiss was over now. Floyd had ended it, to Riddle’s surprise.

But Floyd didn’t move far away. He just…kept looking at Riddle. Scanning his whole face with that same strange expression, as if Riddle’s face were a precious gemstone glittering and reflecting onto Floyd.

His eyes were fixed on Riddle.

Floyd was always calling Riddle “entertaining”. Riddle was accustomed to taking that as yet another insult from someone who viewed him as nothing more than a passing interest. He was entertaining in the same way a cheap toy was. That had to be it.

But Floyd wasn’t looking at him like a toy.

He was looking at him like the sun.

He wanted to see that look more.

He wanted to…do that more.

So he did.

This time Floyd’s expression had a hint of surprise on it-that quickly melted into elation as he wrapped an arm around Riddle to support the second kiss.

——————

HAHA WHOOPS THAT GOT OUT OF HAND UHHH NEXT COUPLE QUICK GO GO GO G

Azul x Cater

-See…these two are idiots

-They’re talking about the game all the time. After all, they both watch trends as a part of the their passions; Azul keeps the lounge updated with themed foods, Cater’s posts stay on trend.

-So of course Azul comes to Cater to talk about the new trend and scheme I MEAN…plan out some new business ventures

-And despite these two being all happy and cute and down bad for each other I firmly believe neither has the romantic confidence to ask the other to play the game with them

-So naturally Jade and Floyd see this happening while Cater and Azul talk in the lounge and their solution is to quietly shut down the lounge for the night, dim the lights, serve up the food Cater ordered and the pocky special…and lock all of the exit doors (Jade pickpocketed Azul’s master key)

-They send Azul a text letting him know he’s not leaving their romantic setup until he mer-mans up and plays with Cater

-Pucker up fish boy (Cater tries to play it cool when Azul asks to play with him especially because Azul is trying to sound suave and completely failing-Cater can tell when he’s nervous by now)

-Something something shalalala don’t be scared

Jade x Ruggie x Jamil

-And if I said that this instantly becomes a “who can spoil Ruggie the most” competition

-His tail WAGS. When you give him SWEETS

-This is an almost everyday thing for Jade and Jamil, trying to beat the other to the punch on playing the game with Ruggie

-One time Jade finds an excuse to be at the Savanaclaw dorm at the crack of dawn to gift Ruggie more pocky and play with him (Leona sees this and thinks it’s pathetic-)

-Meanwhile Jamil is using that hypothetical excess stock from Kalim’s overbuying to try and one up Jade on quantity

-Competitions like this are probably a form of flirting for Jade and Jamil. Which means eventually one of their play arguments ends when Ruggie lifts a pocky stick in between them

-They mellow out a little bit after that. Only a little though

Leona x Silver

-honestly these two kinda stumped me at first but then I locked in and opened my mind fr

-Neither of them seem very keen to follow trends, they seem like a couple that goes on casual dates and often naps together

-But I’m sure that Lillia keeps his son updated on trends, and Leona has head or it by association with seeing his underclassmen doing it

-So I think that perhaps on one of their sleepy dates, Silver jumps into Leona’s dream as may be the usual for them by now

-And perhaps the ever so cool Leona is actually having a dream about playing the pocky game with his darling. Little lovesick lion

-So of course Silver does a quick change with his dream self and enjoys the game with Leona in his dream

-It’s so enjoyable that he goes out to get some pocky for them to play with in real life, and he swears he heard some purring when he gave the box to Leona

————

Ok and now for some self indulgent ocs and also n2 squad aka: “man I hope I get these dynamics right”

————

N2Squad (Jamil x Leona x Vil)

-Ok what if I said that this happens during the early “Jamil is feeling a little awkward around the pre established LeoVil couple” period in the relationship

-Kalim won’t shut up about the trend and Jamil has half a mind to offer to do it with Leona and Vil but what if it turns awkward? Any good planner thinks of all of the possible outcomes and all Jamil can think of are the worst, most embarrassing situations possible

-So when trend setter (and trend watcher) Vil comes over to Jamil and Leona with the pocky Jamil is extremely relieved that he didn’t have to make that move. Touched, even. Not that he’d say it.

-However his little reaction, the small widening of eyes that Leona notices and the way he sat up straighter that Vil caught, gives him away. Vil and Leona watch Jamil just as closely as he watches them, Jamil’s just been so preoccupied with his own low self worth to realize it.

-Leona and Vil don’t let onto this though. They play the game as usual, although I imagine they all play in different ways

-Leona intends to end every round with a kiss. He will get a surprising amount of the pocky in his mouth in one bite just to surprise whoever is on the other end with a kiss

-Vil on the other hand does enjoy the feeling of being desired. So if he deliberately bites his end in a way so that every round ends in the other player having to make the move to kiss him…wow, what a coincidence! Leona and Jamil clock this like three rounds in. Jamil still goes for the kiss. Leona starts messing with Vil and trying to stick him with the last move instead and now they’re somehow competing. At the pocky game. Good job boys

-As for Jamil…I don’t want to say “uncharacteristically flustered” but what else do I call it? I mean can you blame him? His boyfriends are cute, and they’re playing a game about kissing each other for sevens sake

-He actively chickens out the first few rounds, although he tries to play it off

-Eventually he cools off enough to beat Leona to the punch and take a big enough bite for them to kiss. It’s hard to tell if Leona is more satisfied about the kiss or about being outplayed. He gets Jamil back right away of course

-And Vil refuses to make the move for a kiss until Leona insinuates that perhaps Vil is the truly flustered one in this scenario, which Vil objects to fervently.

-TLDR they go through quite a few boxes that night, and for what it’s worth, Jamil feels a bit better about his place in the relationship by the end. It’s a start, at least. (Jamil turn around Jamil your boyfriends have more pocky to play with Jamil they’re behind you jAMI-)

Jade x Finn x Trey

-I know I play around with if the characters are dating or not in each of these so to clarify, this is in the cringefail flirting/pining stage of the ot3. Man I hope I got this close to right 🙏

-As the trend spread, it probably hit all three dorms at the same time. Jade was helping Azul develop a new pocky menu, Trey was seeing Adeuce being not subtle in the Heartslaybul lounge, and Finn probably helped Jamil transport all the pocky Kalim bought to a cooler when he saw poor Jamil lugging box after box through the halls

-So it was only a matter of time until someone made a move and of course Jade was the first to think of this

-His plan was likely to offer to play the game during a lunchtime study session in the courtyard. Good atmosphere, it’s lunch so they’re already eating, and most importantly, it would be just the two of them. No green haired competition to get in the way

-Of course Jade couldn’t account for Trey having baked some pocky of his own for Finn to try. How in the hells did he even know where to find them anyway?

-So while Jade and Trey are proooobably lowkey making some passive aggressive (emphasis on the passive, knowing these two) remarks to each other, they’re too focused on that to notice poor Finn’s temporary blue screen

-Pocky game? With Jade AND Trey? Right now??? At the same time????????????

-and I think it would be very funny rom com love triangle shenanigans if the only way the two are able to settle this is by playing the game themselves-whoever chickens out goes second

-At some point during this discussion Finn manages to squeak out an “ok” to the situation

-Watching Trey and Jade play probably doesn’t do anything to help him calm down

-And for what it’s worth Trey and Jade are making wayyyyy too much eye contact to be normal. Calls coming from inside the house you two

-Surprisingly Jade is the one to back out first? It’s…weird. Uncharacteristic of him. But Trey goes first with strawberry pocky

-Finn is probably just as red as the pocky at this point and he’s so obviously flustered as they play…poor Fox probably has to loose the round once Trey gets within an inch of his face. It’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss Trey, I just imagine that he’s probs flustered out of his mind

-Which is why Jade lost on purpose-he wanted to go in for the weakened prey I MEAN UHHH he wanted to swoop in after Trey went

-He uses some lavender pocky he got from the lounge, and he makes small bites at first unlike Trey’s medium ones

-So Finn is actually able to hold his own for a bit, it’s not too overwhelming!

-until Jade goes for a MASSIVE bite in true eel style and ambushes Finn, getting mere centimeters away, close enough to just close the gap by shifting his face

-He grabs Finn by the chin, thumb under his lips…

-…and pushes the sliver of pocky into Finn’s mouth, ending the game

-He didn’t want to be too brash, after all. He’s playing the long game here. So he lets Finn win the round, and makes quite the impression of course

-Oh and if that isn’t the passing period bell! Time to go to class-and Jade has to go to a different one than Finn and Trey, so he’s off~!

-Trey may have been a touch outwitted but he does get to walk a flustered Finn to class, and he gets to leave his baked goods in Finn’s bag (he slipped them in before they started walking)

-Poor Finn probably looks like a ghost when he gets back to the dormitory-Kalim probably asks if he needs to see the nurse

Wiro x Sebek

-Ok this is self indulgent lol I couldn’t help myself. I did restrain myself from doing the entire freshman polycule, that is my version of restraint

-But assuming Wiro and Sebek are still stubbornly fighting over dorm pride…there’s honestly no way they don’t end up playing this game of gay chicken

-Every argument they have is a game of gay chicken anyways so uhhhh what’s the difference lmao

-They do this during some meeting after school, treating it like it’s a duel when they’re literally playing a kissing game

-They do keep chickening out of it an equal amount, because who would want to kiss their enemy??!! Duh!!!!

-Until they’re at Sebek 6 Wiro 5 and Wiro can’t afford to loose the round

-Octavinelle dignity is on the line!!!!! He’s gotta do something!

-But no matter how close he gets and how warm Sebek’s face gets, Sebek isn’t backing down to Wiro’s frustration

-But Wiro isn’t planning to back down either…even as they get closer, and closer…

-And eventually he moves in for what could be best described as a collision

-It’s not exactly the most romantic kiss but it certainly leaves the two stunned for a moment

-And then they agree that it’s a tie

-Guess they’ll just

-Have to have a rematch

-Of course. That’s only logical

-(If the music club sees Wiro suddenly writing love songs for the club, no they DONT)

[strawheart-pirate]

Oasis

Portgas D. Ace x afab!Reader

Words: 2658 CW: Alabasta Setting (spoilerfree), NSFW, vaginal sex, blowjob, fingering, tongue fucking, consensual, pet names (babe, my love)

You were home safe and sound thanks to Ace. Your feelings we’re a mess ever since and on top your grandmother invited your savior for dinner to thank him properly. As it was time to part ways your feelings were crashing down on you. A steaming hot sequel to Drought.

You woke up to the sun, kissing your face the early morning. You lifted your head and grabbed your pillow tight until you realized that you squished the man below you and not your pillow. A deep red blush crept onto your face as Ace woke up from the pressure around his ribs.

“Ugh, no. Is it already morning?” Ace grumbled, his eyes shut tight, as he stretched beneath you.

“Unfortunately.” You mumbled, still deeply embarrassed.

“Just five more minutes.” He said as he turned towards you and held you in a tight embrace.

If your blush was gone seconds ago, it was now as prominent as ever since his bare chest was right inside your face and his arms secured you in a way that left no room for protest.

“Ace, please, my grandma has worried long enough.” You begged.

“Alright, okay. Let’s get going.” He slowly went up and packed a few things. It was clearly visible that he was not a morning person, and you were impressed that he didn’t fell over, given how much he was swaying.

You checked your place for any package or clothing left, but you were done. Ready to go.

As you both walked side by side through the desert, Ace told you about his pirate life. He was very enthusiastic about his stories and you laughed a lot. The lizard followed you in a good distance.

“Do you know my little brother? His name is Monkey D. Luffy and I’ll meet him soon here in Nanohana.” He shoved the wanted poster right in your face.

“He has a precious smile.” You admit.

“I know, right? See, when we were young, we did everything together…”

Ace was rambling about his brother Luffy until you finally reached the gates of the city and parted ways with the lizard. At this point you thought that you knew Luffy better than Ace, but that didn’t matter. You loved the stories Ace told you and even though they were about Luffy, you could clearly read between the lines and gather information about your travel buddy. You didn’t even notice that you smiled admiringly at him and gave him a few side glances until you were at your house.

“Grandma!” you yelled and rushed towards your grandma, who was sitting in front of your house. You hugged her tight and reassured her, that you were fine as Ace watched you two. Tears flowed down your faces and your grandma was clearly relieved that everything was alright. As you both calmed down, you introduced Ace and your grandma to each other.

“Ace, this is my grandma. Grandma, this is Ace. He saved me yesterday.” You said and your grandma scanned Ace thoroughly before she spoke.

“Thank you for saving my grandchild, young man. Please have dinner with us tonight.”

“Oh, I’d like to, but…”

“No buts, you must come. We want to thank you properly, so you will come. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Your grandma demanded and Ace and you were a bit taken aback.

“O-Okay..” Ace stuttered and the old lady chuckled to herself.

“6pm. Be on time.” She said and Ace took his leave, since he had some things to do.

“Now, Y/N, tell me about this man and what happened to you.” Your grandma said and patted the seat next to her.

You sighed and sat down. “Where shall I start…”

It had been an hour until your grandma knew the whole story. She was now in the kitchen preparing the dinner and you did your chores. Although you were busy, your mind drifted off to Ace quite frequently.  Even though he was a pirate, you were sure he was not the nasty type. You owed him your life, yes. And that alone causes admiration to some degree, but you also enjoyed the talks with him. It was clearly visible, that he loved his little brother and his cocky, but cheerful attitude along with his well-trained body left you longing for more.

Oh my, I really got it bad. You sighed as you thought to yourself but smiled anyway.

Evening came and Ace appeared at the doorstep right on time. He had a nice bouquet of flowers in his hand and handed it to your grandma.

“Thanks for your invitation, madame.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Oh, what a lovely young man you are. And please, just call me grandma. I like the connection that comes with it.” She smiled knowingly.

You rolled your eyes at her antics and led your guest into the living room. There, a small table was set up for the three of you by the window and the evening sun gently illuminated the simply furnished room.

“Here we are.” Your grandma said as she put down the pot in the middle and you all got seated.

The dinner was pleasant. At first you talked about random topics, but now Ace was telling your grandma everything about his brother Luffy. You knew the stories and so you leaned back in your chair and sipped your drink. You haven’t seen your grandmas’ eyes shine that bright in a long time. Something about this man was truly special and you followed the conversation with a gentle smile on your face.

It had been three hours and Ace was about to head off to his lodging. The sun was just setting and your grandma hugged the freckled man goodbye.

“Thanks again for that lovely dinner, grandma.” Ace said and bowed to her.

“Ah, you’re welcome. Come by anytime, okay?” she smiled as she took his face in her hands and slapped his cheek lightly a few times.

“Will do.” He said and turned to you. “I…”

“I’ll walk you home.” You beat him to it. Your offer was a bit unusual and you could clearly see the question marks on his face.

“Then off you go.” Your grandma gave you a knowing smile and waved the both of you off.

You took his hand and started walking. He waved to your grandma one last time and quickly got used to the new situation. No one said a word as you walked hand in hand to the address he had given you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, but you were deep in thought. You felt something for this man and wanted to spend more time with him, but you didn’t know if he felt the same. Before you could even come to a conclusion, Ace stopped.

“Alright, we’re here. This is the inn.” Said Ace, giving you a beaming smile. You couldn’t face him because he would clearly see the hurt in your eyes. You didn’t want to let go but you tried to find the right words.

You started to phrase your emotions. “Yeah, well… Thank you again and maybe we’ll meet…”

Two strong hands grabbed your face and before you knew what was happening, Ace smashed his lips to yours. The kiss was hungry, his lips demanding. He wanted everything from you and you would give it to him without hesitation. You melted in his hands and your lips joined the fiery battle. As you put your arms around his neck, he broke away from you just enough to catch his breath.

“Do you want to…?” – “Yes!” You both smiled as your lips met again and he grabbed your butt to lift you up. A sound of surprise left you and you giggled slightly as he carried you up the stairs and into his room. He set you down and locked the door in one fluid motion, trapping you between him and the door. His lustful gaze traveled over your body from head to toe and back again before he took your face back into his hands and kissed you passionately. You hummed in pleasure and placed your hands around his neck to play with his black strands. His pelvis rubbed against yours in a needy rhythm.

“Ace…” you moaned his name impatiently.

Ace wasted no time and carried you over to the bed and laid you on the soft mattress before removing his hat and coat. The look he had on you was breathtaking, as it looked like there was a fire burning in his brown irises. He slowly approached you, but you stopped him before he could lay on top of you. You slid off the bed and got down on your knees. Your hand wandered over his beautiful abs and you unzipped his pants.

"Let me take care of my savior." You looked at him through half-lidded eyes and stripped him naked.

 A breathless moan escaped the man. His erection was now right in front of your face and you took your time to look at it thoroughly. He had just the right thickness, was long and curved up a little. The tip was a light shade of purple and he had a prominent vein on top. You licked your lips.

"Like what you see?" He teased, though he already knew the answer, and posed a little for you.

You grabbed it gently and let your tongue slide from his shaft to his tip while holding his gaze.

"Oh fuck." He said and looked away for a second as he inhaled sharply. "That’s so hot."

You took his cock all the way into your mouth and gave it a good taste until you hummed in approval. He was delicious. Ace couldn't take his eyes off you and you gave him a glance every now and then as you bobbed your head on his cock. Your hand alternately gently massaged his balls and clasped the lower part of his cock in a firm grip.

Your tongue swirled around his tip and Ace moaned louder and louder. It wasn’t long before he grabbed your head.

"Is it okay if I...?" you hummed in approval and he shoved his cock deep down your throat. You gagged a little, but it was okay, drool pouring down your chin. Your cunt throbbed as Ace used your throat and a few bounces later he painted it white on the inside. You swallowed everything he gave you and licked your lips. He smiled at you, satisfied and a bit exhausted, and you returned his gaze with a perky smile. Ace dropped to his knees and kissed you passionately, his tongue deep inside your mouth, battling for dominance in a demanding kiss until he lifted you up and placed you on the bed.

"It’s payback time."

He peeled you out of your gown, lifted your leg and kissed you on the inside of your thigh. His hands were all over you until he suddenly stopped.

"Let me show you something." He said and you propped yourself up your elbows and watched him hold his finger over your belly. A familiar little flame appeared, and he cautiously ran it over your belly. His touch was warm, but he didn’t burn you. You couldn’t take your eyes off the flame as he approached your nipples. As his fingertip grazed over your bud, the flame flared a little and you gasped at the sensation of his touch and the blazing flame. He smirked at your reaction and you heart skipped a beat. His teasing play continued with the other bud until he let his hand slowly move down until he reached your clit. You moaned his name like a prayer as he traced circles on your clit with his flaming fingertip. Each time the flame slid over your sensitive spot, a crackling warmth coursed through you. You were so fascinated by the flame that you didn't realize what Ace was up to until the flame went out and he slid his finger inside you. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and moved your hips towards him.

"I hope you liked my little trick." he teased just before he placed his lips onto your folds.

He licked a straight line from your entrance to your clit as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of your needy cunt. You tried to move your hips, but he held you back with a strong arm.

"Stay still and let me enjoy my dessert." He demanded and his command increased the tightness of the knot in your belly. He flicked his tongue repeatedly over your clit while he inserted a second finger into your velvety folds.

"Ace…" you whimpered. The pressure was rising inside you. He knew exactly how close you were. The squelching sounds of your soaking cunt and your sweet moans resounded through the room. For the final act, he exchanged his fingers for his tongue. His fingers were rougher and provided more friction on your clit and his tongue penetrated deep into your folds. The vibrations that flowed through you pussy as he hummed with desire send you over the edge.

"Ahh, FUCK!" Your juices gushed all over his face as he tongue fucked you through your orgasm. He licked all your sweet liquids off you before he is looking at you with a pleased smile.

 "You taste like an oasis, babe." he praised, and you blushed. He crawled up on you and gave you a taste of yourself. The kiss was passionate, and your tongues danced lovingly together.

"Wanna ride me, babe, or you want me to rail you into the mattress?" A smug grin on his face. - "Why not both, but I'd like to start riding you while my legs still work.” You suggested.

He smiled devilishly at you and turned you both around so that he was on his back and you were on top of him. You sat up and positioned yourself over him. He held his cock still as you slowly slid yourself down and buried his cock deep inside you.

"You feel sooo good, Ace." You praise him as you put your hands on his abs for more balance.

"Says the one driving me crazy with those needy hot walls."

You chuckled and started riding him at a slow pace. One of his hands was on your hip and the second teased your clit every now and then. Your sweaty bodies moved in harmony and the clashing of your hips filled the room with a sweet symphony that, together with the moans that escaped from both of you in sheer pleasure, created a passionate melody. Your movements became sloppy as the knot in your stomach continued to tighten and Ace placed his second hand on your hips as well, as he began to thrust into you from below.

You gasped as he hit your sweet spot deep inside you and a smirk appeared on his face. Your nails clawed deep into his chest as he hit the same spot over and over, bringing you closer to the edge with every thrust. He hissed in pleasure as your nails dug into his flesh.

“Oh god, you’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.” – “Ahhh, Ace, please.” You plead as you were about to climax.

“It’s okay babe, cum for me.” He said as he sped up his movements. Your knot snapped and your climax hit you hard. You pressed your shaking legs into Ace’s ribs and clawed into your own breasts as you screamed his name. The sight was breathtaking and your walls squeezed him mercilessly and not a second later Ace was slamming your hips onto his cock, spraying his seed deep inside you.

You took your time to calm your breathing and remained seated on his still twitching cock. You looked down at him through half-lidded eyes, the pleasure clearly visible on both of your faces. He reached for your cheek and you leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. It was so soft and sweet and full of love that no words were needed.

When you pulled back a little, he looked deep into your eyes. "You are so sweet my love, what do you want to try next?"

All content unless otherwise stated belongs to: ©Strawheart-pirate. Please do not copy / modify / translate / repost my writing, banners or art on other platforms. Comments, reblogs or likes are highly appreciated!

[weministertomonsters]

A Shift In Character- 3

"No hospitals," your husband croaks as you stumble out of your apartment elevator.

"You've said that several times already, Nathan," you gasp, struggling under his weight as he leans against you.

"No hospitals," he mumbles. "M'fine."

"No, you're not!" You shoot back as you fumble with the key to your apartment.

Your nosy neighbor sticks her head out of her door and gasps when she sees the state of the two of you.

"Bar fight," you mutter and push your door open.

You get Nathan on the couch and run to get the first aid kit so you can access the damage. You wrestle his shirt off and he lies there limply, staring at you with foggy eyes. He has a few bruises and scratches, but nothing serious. You sigh in relief when you realize the bite wound isn't too bad either. It just bled a lot.

"What if it gets infected?" You blow out a breath and get to work disinfecting the wound.

"I'll be fine," he winces. "Are you okay? What happened back there?"

You avoid his gaze. "You need to rest. You need to shower too, but lie down for a while, okay?"

He hums, his eyes fluttering shut. "Don't leave me," he murmurs.

You push his hair back from his forehead, going hot and cold. What the heck are you going to say, that you had terrifying but hot sex with a stranger? Your relationship wasn't open to other people, so what you've done is cheating.

So stupid. You see he's asleep, so you get up and stumble into the bathroom.

How had things gone so far? Well, Mystery Man used your weakness against you. But you should have also made more of an effort to say no. Shivering, you step into the shower and rinse dried cum and blood from your body. Every part of you feels thoroughly satisfied, despite your guilt. You're just beginning to soap your body when you feel a presence behind you. You almost slip as you turn, but your husband catches you with an arm around your waist.

He looks far more alert now. His clothes are discarded on the floor outside the shower. Pinkish water runs down his chest as the blood washes away. He blinks at you.

"You know what? I think you liked it."

"W-what?" You squeak.

"You heard me. You've been acting weird ever since I got back. Is it because of him?"

"Can we talk about this later?" You scratch your neck, and he catches your hand and leans in.

"He bit you as well?"

"Yes..."

Your husband says your name in that exasperated tone he uses when he thinks you've made a stupid decision, and even though you have no right to be angry, you feel the heat of it pulsing through you.

"Okay, yeah! I did enjoy it! It was more consensual than he made it look when you arrived. Are you happy now?"

He laughs sharply. "Are you admitting to cheating on me?"

Your anger dissipates and your shoulders hunch. Suddenly you're very aware that you're both naked. Your eyes sting, and not from the soap.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "I just wanted to feel something. You've always been busy..."

Your husband looks at you. Really looks at you.

"Why are you covering yourself?" He asks, his voice getting a little softer.

You are. You're almost cowering with your arms crossed over your midsection like you want to curl up into a ball. You look at him and finally admit the truth.

"I feel like I'm not good enough. Like I'm not desirable to you any longer."

"That's not true," he says.

"Then why won't you sleep with me?" You sniffle. "It makes me feel so small and hateful and ugly. You always say you're busy with work, and then too tired after work..."

"God, I didn't realize. I've been so wrapped up." He takes both of your wrists and pulls them away from your body, pulling you into a hug. "We're going to fix this," he says firmly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even looked his way," you murmur. "I deserve whatever punishment you want to give me."

Your husband is silent for a long moment, and then his arms tighten around you.

"Tomorrow I'm going to find that guy and fuck him up," he growls. "For touching my wife."

"But I'm the one who let him touch me," you protest.

"He should have known better because you're mine," your husband replies. "You've got a damn ring on."

You grimace and feel like an even bigger fool.

"I'll deal with you too, don't think I'm letting it slide," he whispers against the top of your head and you simply nod.

You eventually part in order to get clean.

"Something isn't normal about him," you say as you soap yourself up.

"This would be the part where I laugh and don't believe you, but I saw his face when we were fighting," your husband says.

"You did?" You gesture for him to turn around so you can get his back.

"Humans don't have eyes or teeth like that."

"Fuck," you groan. "What if I've been infected?"

"You and me both," He replies, turning back to you. "Check my neck. Is it still bleeding?"

You lean closer. "No... It looks like it healed over."

You exchange looks. It's beginning to dawn on you that you've epically fucked up and dragged your husband into it. Your apologies are plentiful, but he doesn't want to hear them.

"I need time to think," he says as you both settle into bed. "I'm going to buy a gun tomorrow."

"Babe..."

"What? If he's really some freak, I'll need all the help I can get," he replies with a yawn. "I'm going to kill him, that's what."

You clamp your mouth shut, surprised at the protests that want to rise. You're not sure what part of this unsettles you. That your husband, who's always been a gentle person, wants to buy a gun and possibly kill someone. Or that Mystery Man might not be human, or that you don't want either of them to get hurt.

Your husband is out cold within minutes, but it takes you longer to fall asleep. You have nightmarish dreams of fighting and snapping wolf teeth and both men slippery with blood as they wrestle on a forest floor.

A heavy weight thumping against your body wakes you up. You forgot to close the blinds before you went to bed, and the bright morning light is pouring in, piercing your eyes. Your husband's arm is wrapped around you, one of his legs thrown over both of yours, holding you down. That's what woke you up. Sweat glistens on his forehead and he mumbles in his sleep.

"Nathan?" You nudge his shoulder.

One of his eyes slowly cracks open, and his pupil is huge.

"What's wrong?" You ask, leaning over him.

"Bad dreams," he rolls over with a groan, releasing you. "I feel like shit."

"Are you okay?"

"Why do you ask?" He opens both eyes now, squinting painfully at you.

He looks like he's high.

"You're soaked with sweat," you tell him.

The thin shirt he's wearing clings to his body. He frowns and sits up. The bedsheets are damp as well. Ywrinklenke your nose.

"Up, I'm changing the sheets."

He rolls off the bed and plops on the floor, rubbing his face and mumbling to himself. You get out of bed yourself and hiss sharply at the ache between your legs. His head jerks up and he twists around to look at you, narrowing his eyes. You could almost cry of embarrassment as you scamper out of the bedroom, wincing. Another man has you walking weird.

You get fresh sheets from the closet and hesitantly walk back in. He is still sitting on the floor, his head hung low. Silently you begin to tug the sheets off the bed. He hops up to his feet and pads up to you. Without much warning, he tugs the sheets out of your hands drops them on a nearby chair, and kisses you.

He's burning up, his feverish skin hot against yours as he pulls you closer. You try to push him away.

"You're sick, Nathan. Your temperature is sky high."

He ignores you. "I want you," he says.

"What? Now? You're joking. You need to lie down," you tell him. "And I'll get you a cold cloth-"

A muscle in his jaw tightens and he practically throws you on the bed. You squeak as you fall face down.

"Wasn't asking," he mumbles, crawling on top of you and kissing your shoulder.

"Nathan, I'm serious," you begin to say, but he straddles your hips, pinning you to the bed.

His hand scoops your hair away from your neck, his fingers tracing the slight, bumpy scar where you were bitten.

"Nathan? What are you doing?"

He doesn't respond, and that's pretty strange. He hauls you up onto your hands and knees roughly, repeating the motion twice until you obediently hold the position. You look over your shoulder and gasp. His brown eyes are so dark they're almost black. You've seen his eyes get chocolatey and warm in direct sunlight, but this charcoal color doesn't even look natural.

"I can smell him on you, you know," he finally says. "I hate it."

"I took a shower. Don't be ridiculous-" You freeze when he grabs your underwear and pulls it down, smacking your ass.

"Nathan? You're scaring me," you whisper.

His response is a low appreciative groan as he rubs the spot he just smacked. You look back again, only to see he's pulled his cock out of his sweatpants, his stomach flexing as he fists it.

"Are you sure? This is the last thing you should be doing." You argue weakly.

He drapes his body against yours and whispers in your ear,

"I love you so much, but I need you to stop talking."

"What? You're not making any sense!" You protest, and those are the last words you manage to speak as he shoves your face into the pillow.

You feel the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. Despite yourself, you're pretty wet. He's never been like this before. He thrusts into you as far as he can go, and you moan in pain. You're still very sore from yesterday and he's not being gentle.

"You have to smell like me because you're mine. Don't you get it?" He pants as he thrusts into you. "You can't just give your pussy to anyone. You're mine!"

"Yes," you gasp. "I'm yours."

He grunts and squeezes your hips, digging his fingers in hard enough for it to hurt. You let him, figuring this might be his way of punishing you. He uses you like a toy, chasing his pleasure alone. It's been so long since you had sex together that you regret the fact that it's like this, but you're in no position to complain. He comes with a growled curse and flops bonelessly on the bed beside you, his chest heaving.

You let yourself flatten against the bed and blow out a breath. You're turned on and confused.

"I think something's wrong with me," he says. "I feel strange."

"Should I take you to the hospital?"

"No. Just.. Lie with me."

You have to clean yourself up and turn on the air conditioning before you climb back into bed with him. He pulls you closer and sniffs.

"Now you smell like me. That's much better. His scent was making me go crazy."

"Stop being weird," you demand, trying not to feel anxious. "You're having a fever or something. Sleep."

Miraculously, he does fall asleep.

You don't remember dozing off as well, but you wake up to the thud of the refrigerator closing. You're alone in the bed. You stretch and your body zings with soreness. Your breasts feel tender too. You check your calendar and it all lines up. You're going to be ovulating soon. You pad into the kitchen and pause.

It's a mess, the way it always gets when your husband does anything in the kitchen. Nathan turns from the stove with a stack of pancakes.

"Morning."

"Hi. Are you feeling better?"

"Sure am. Sit down, I made breakfast."

You sit cautiously and stare at him. He sets the pancakes down in front of you and sits himself. He's eating scrambled eggs and leftover minced meat that looks like he barely gave it time to get a decent sear.

"Uh..."

"This is all I was craving. Figured I deserve it," he says, scooping it into his mouth. "I've got to go out to the office, but I'll be home early. I thought we could go on a date."

You nod silently and eat the pancakes. Has he forgotten about the gun? You're not going to bring it up just in case. He showers and leaves for work with so much energy that you can't help but worry. He kisses you hard on the mouth and promises to be back as soon as he can. You let him go, nursing that feeling of unease deep inside of you.

You tidy up the kitchen and lock up. You get a sense of deja vu as you step back into the club.

"We're pretty much closed till seven in the evening," the bartender calls over.

He's washing and drying shot glasses. One person is sitting at the bar, devouring a hamburger. It's not your guy, even though he has a similar build.

"Sorry. I'm here to ask about someone," you say.

Before you can begin to describe him, the man eating the hamburger says,

"Green eyes, hasn't-shaved-in-days and slutty open shirts?"

"Yes. Do you know him?" You frown at the man.

He licks grease from his fingers and chortles.

"Helen of Troy, that's what you are."

"Pardon?"

He waves a dismissive hand and then holds it out to you. "Where are my manners? I'm Ulysses."

You don't take his hand. You glance at the bartender, who shrugs.

"Well, I really need to talk to him. Is there any way I can reach him?"

"A careful bitch. I like that," he says.

You raise an eyebrow, refusing to take the bait.

"Can I have his number, maybe?"

"Aha!" The bartender cuts in. "So you're the lady he was talking about! He left a note for you."

You whip your head around. The bartender fumbles in his pockets and then pulls a piece of tissue out. The ink has bled in places, making it hard to read, but you manage to make it out.

Contact me when you have real questions that need answers.

Underneath, there's a phone number. You thank the bartender and leave Ulysses at the bar as you stride outside. You waste no time dialing the number. It goes straight to voicemail, so you try again.

"I thought I told you not to call," his deep voice says.

"Well, I've got questions. What are you?"

You get a scoff in response.

"You're howling at the empty sky, darling. Wait for the real trouble."

"Don't speak in riddles," you protest. "Something is happening and I-"

The bastard hangs up on you. You stare at your phone screen in disbelief and curse.

"You're in a fix," Ulysses says, joining you on the curb.

You take a step away from him, frowning. He's dressed like a homeless person, or a junkie, or both. There's a sly shiftiness to him that you don't like.

"Please leave me alone."

"Ah, you want to be alone?" He crows. "Not for long! You've got yourself a piece of the wild, that's what. Bastard city people, always wiping your noses. Ha!"

You hail a taxi and leave him there. You have no idea what Ulysses has to do with Mystery Man, but the situation is only getting murkier and more confusing. Your phone rings. It's Nathan.

"I, um, fucked up."

"What happened?" You ask.

"Got into a fight and broke a tooth. There's, uh, blood everywhere." He sounds lost and confused.

"Jesus. Send me your location. I'll come and pick you up. Don't move, okay?"

"Yeah, um... I think I'm just going to sit down..."

The line disconnects.

Read the next part here -> Part 4

[dreamwreaver]

Thank you for the welcome from my previous ask about Vox, I've been busy and finally I could talk about my thoughts on my favorite couple and the others around them. If it's alright, I'd like to be seen as the "rambling nonnie" because I ramble on too long.

About Vaggie, I noticed a lack of her presence in the leaks, which for me, means she's gonna be put in the back seat yet again. I also feel like whatever supposedly important role she's gonna get it's gonna be tied to Charlie. Again. Like everytime.

"Vaggie's the manager of the hotel!" Oh, wow, does she have a genuine interest in redeeming sinners? "No, she does it for Charlie!"

"Vaggie has an interesting arc regarding her thirst for revenge and she should fight for love instead of fighting her detestation for her awful fellow soldiers!" Well, did that arc thoroughly develop her as a character? "No, it was pointless because she didn't really show any signs of vengeful bloodlust before that song and she was already loyal and fighting for Charlie!"

Honestly, what really strikes out to me was the fact Vaggie didn't change her mind as an exorcist because of Charlie, she made the realization herself. But even though that's the case, why was a single demon child enough to shift sides? Are we just gonna gloss over the fact she killed hundreds of sinners each year and kept that from Charlie for years? And didn't punish her or give her huge consequences for her actions?? The most the show did was just make her and Charlie have a fallout for like half of the episode, then near the end of it, the two of them make up because of a shrunken head souvenir and a conversation with Rosie who was a third party that didn't even know Vaggie???

While Alastor and Vaggie were no different when it came to being murderers, at least Alastor didn't keep it a secret and he suffered the consequences of his actions anyway. What makes Vaggie better than him, really? That she didn't have a choice in it? That she didn't enjoy it? True, but keep in mind she most likely had a higher kill count than Alastor and those sinners will never have the chance to redeem themselves and she has never fully apologized for her actions to the princess of those people and likely never will. After all, her very kindhearted girlfriend forgave her, right? Without even having a long, hard conversation onscreen, right? And that's good enough for most of the fandom.

Allow me the indulgence of a rambley the raccoon gif for you nonny

And vaggie, I feel like she was flattened from pilot to series in a big way. Right down to her design. Like she went from having stripes and x's as a motif to just red and black. Wow, so different. It looks like a uniform. Charlie wearing a red suit makes sense since she wants to be taken seriously and we see in her battle outfit that she wears red so red could just be a favorite color of hers, or the color of the royal family given the apple is the fruit of knowledge they're going with here.

Alastor, well he probably didn't have much input on his design and color scheme. The suit is 30s based so I'm not surprised at the style, one of the older comics shows him sporting a straw boater which he then tosses to a group of cannibal ladies to watch them tear each other apart over it. He enjoys the attention but doesn't get much out of it. But vaggie?

The most insight we get into her character is likely her nightgown and her own battle outfit. But the nightgown is a reference to her heavenly origins and the battle outfit is clearly a Carmilla carmine design. And the soft femme angle could work if they didn't make her the straight man to all the other characters. And in a cast like this she's not the voice of reason so much as the stick in the mud. Half of the conflicts in the show are summed up as:

Vaggie: Charlie no!

Charlie: Charlie yes!

Usually with Alastor indulging her. And when things blow up in her face there's no moment of vaggie even getting an "I told you so" of ANY kind! And let's be real, I'm sure that Charlie loves vaggie, but I'm not 100% sold on Vaggie TRULY loving Charlie. I definitely think she BELIEVES she loves Charlie, but this is a white knight/savior complex. Charlie saved her when vaggie had nothing, therefore vaggie must protect Charlie to be worthy of being her partner. Vaggie was not ready to be in a relationship after being abandoned in Hell. Let's be real, there's a bit of prejudice to Vaggie's relationship. Isn't it nice that the person the fallen Angel is in a relationship with is of royal blood? She's half angel. Lilith was a full demon when Charlie was born, the only human thing Charlie likely inherited from her mother was her soul. I fully believe that Charlie would and has dated sinners. Would Vaggie? I highly doubt it. She can claim she "believes" in Charlie's idea and vision all she likes, like Rosie said; words are cheap, actions are not.

What about Vaggie's actions show us the audience her love for Charlie? The one instance I can think of off the top of my head is the commercial. That's the ONE time she takes initiative on her own to try and lighten Charlie's workload. The meeting with her father? Yeah she suggested it I guess but the thing about that was that Charlie knows her relationship with her father better than Vaggie does. And, to add, Charlie DOES NOT WANT parental aid in this. She wants to do it on her own. Charlie is both very ignorant and very aware of the privilege of her position. No one respects the royal family sure but she could still crush any sinner she wanted to with a flick of her wrist. And then after that? Vaggie tried to get out of going to heaven, vaggie didn't even attempt to nip the threat of Adam revealing her secret before the meeting, left Charlie open to Alastor's hands by giving her space, and then proceeded to scold her after let me remind you; SHE MADE A DEAL WITH ALASTOR IN EPISODE 1!

Vaggie has absolutely no right to admonish Charlie for making the deal that could save her people when she gladly made a deal with the radio demon just to get a commercial made.

And I know this seems like I hate vaggie as a character but I don't! I wouldn't even mind Chaggie being end game canon and us knowing that from the start so long as it meant we got to SEE their relationship evolve. But Vaggie as a character is inseparable from title of "Charlie's gf" that's it. And the out for love song, it's a banger no doubt about that but seriously?

When did we see Vaggie ever desiring revenge? Her seeing one child during an extermination made such a change in her that she was mortally wounded and left for dead. And she just... moved on? Okay cool. She doesn't hate the exterminations, she's not vehemently trying to stop them AND get the hotel up and running. She's fine hitting the streets to try and get patrons but that's about it. Maybe if we had a b plot of vaggie sneaking away for turf war carnage or being a sort of pentagram city vigilante I would understand the vengeance thing since at least we'd have seen her capacity for violence in action. But nope!

And I cannot tell you how much that stupid keychain frustrates me. Because it's symbolic of what doesn't work about chaggie as it stands. They DONT talk things out. Again, shenanigans are vaggie trying to tell Charlie to change something fundamental about herself or that some idea she has isn't practical, Charlie ignores Vaggie, chaos ensues and then... nothing. The fact that we saw Charlie apologize to angel dust for overstepping his boundaries before we ever saw anything between Charlie and Vaggie and their issue being SO MUCH BIGGER is so incredibly irritating to me. And here's the thing; both of them are valid. Vaggie had every right to keep a secret like that out of fear of being rejected by Charlie, and Charlie has every right to be upset by the fact that this person she's ostensibly shared her life, her heart, and her body with could keep something like this from her. Charlie's entire personality means she gives every part of herself to her partner, and for someone like Vaggie it's just not a healthy dynamic for either of them.

And Rosie, my sweet sadistic darling; you know nothing about Vaggie. Don't speak on her behalf. Yes, it can be hard to admit to something that would hurt someone you care about. But being the reason for countless mortal souls being destroyed? When your partner cares so deeply for her people? That's not something I really feel a romantic relationship should be able to survive. At least it shouldn't be resolved by the appearance of Vaggie's wings and a fucking keychain.

One piece of life advice I have heard that seems applicable here is always examine your thoughts. The first thought you have is what you're programmed to think, the second thought is what you actually feel? When Rosie asked Charlie if doubted whether Vaggie loved her she went "No, yes? No!" And that last one sounded more like she was trying to convince herself of it than she was really thinking through her feelings. Charlie sees the good in everyone, so Rosie's advice isn't super useful because of Charlie's own optimistic personality. Meanwhile Carmilla's advice to vaggie is just, not applicable at all. Everything she has done up to that point has been out of what she considers "love" for Charlie. Also... are we not going to talk about that line "fuel yourself with the fear of losing that someone who's your reason to live"?

Charlie would survive just fine without Vaggie. I cannot say the same about the reverse. There is this sort energy between them that just brings out the parts of them that on a straight couple would be red flags all around but get a pass because gay.

Charlie constantly ignores Vaggie's practical advice? Girl dump him he doesn't value you!

Vaggie as a male consistently tries to tell Charlie not to be herself. To change things about her to make her more palatable to a population that only respects brute shows of power and doesn't give a flying fuck about her? Girl dump him he shouldn't be trying to change you!

And I'll be real, a huge draw for a lot of Charlastor shippers is the "I can fix him/I can make her worse" angle. But here's the thing, both Alastor and Charlie enter that dynamic knowing exactly what the other's about. There's no pretensions or illusions. Charlie knows he's a dangerous overlord and a Dealmaker. Alastor knows she's got plenty of exploitable issues that he can take advantage of but the core of her convictions is entirely solid. Charlie making him better isn't the sort of redemption of him being charitable. It's the "oh fuck I have empathy now and I don't like it" kind.

I just don't see enough compromise in the personalities of Charlie or Vaggie that explain to me why they would stay together after the revelation? I don't see why Charlie would want to stay with someone who willingly slaughtered thousands of souls and never had a problem with it before. Nor has she demonstrated a change of heart regarding sinners and their ability to change. She cares about people achieving redemption because of how it will affect Charlie, not because she gives a shit about what happens to these sinners.

I am fairly certain I drifted from your ask entirely but I hope you enjoyed this ramble Nonny.

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1 REACTION

It's a new week which means a new episode of 9-1-1. So, let's talk about it! This reaction is for the season 8, fourth episode "No Place Like Home" which originally aired October 17. 2024. The episode was written by Lyndsey Beaulieu and directed by Marita Grabiak. Spoilers ahead!

I want to start off by saying I love this show. I love the characters. I love the emergencies. I love the big disasters. I have been thoroughly entertained by this show since episode one. There have been many amazing episodes over the last eight years. "Buck Begins", "The Searchers" and "Fight or Flight" come to mind. If I were to make a list of my Top Ten or Top Twenty Episodes of the series, tonight's episode would be a strong contender for either list. Yes, you read that correctly. Tonight's episode has everything I like in an episode of 9-1-1. We have two brutal emergencies. We have some comedic moments as well as some heartwarming ones as well. We also have one of the best villains I've seen on primetime television in a long time. Olivia Ortiz is part mafia boss, part Captain Planet villain and I loved hating her this episode. I have a feeling this will not be the last time we see her. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start off by talking about the best plot.

Best plot?

There are a few strong contenders for best plot of the episode. I really enjoyed Eddie's side quest to reunite the cheerleader Weston (played by Trent Mason) with his father Mike (played by DaJuan Johnson). The plot really endeared me to Eddie and his situation. I haven't been the biggest Eddie fan since he blew up his life last season but I'm starting to see glimmers of what his character was like back when he was first introduced. I hope they don't carry on the 'Christopher is mad at Eddie' storyline too much longer. I need Gavin McHugh back on my screen again and not via a FaceTime call. 

I did also love the stuff involving Bobby and Athena. I totally get where both of them are coming from. Athena wants something familiar and Bobby wants something new. I'm honestly surprised they lasted as long as they did living in Athena and Michael's home especially after Michael ended up in her bed that time. Perhaps Athena didn't want to uproot her children from their childhood home. Maybe her thought process was that it didn't matter if her family looked different (divorcing Michael and marrying Bobby( as long as the environment she was in stayed the same. I'm glad that Athena really acknowledged Bobby's feelings. Listening and taking into account each other's feelings has been an obstacle for them to overcome. I really think the cruise saved their marriage. They seem to be so in tune with each other. I can't wait to see where they end up living.

While I enjoyed the two aforementioned plots, the best plot of the episode, in my humblest of opinion, was Hen and Karen's fight to get Mara back. First off, shout-out to Veronica Falcón. Councilwoman Olivia Ortiz is hands down the best villain we have ever gotten on this show. Psycho firefighter Jonah Greenway (played by Bryce Durfee) and serial rapist Jeffrey Hudson (played by Noah Bean) or even Vincent Gerrard (played by Brian Thompson) can't hold a candle to this ruthless person. In the scene where Hen goes to Olivia's campaign office, I actually thought that she'd finally gotten through to the councilwoman. Boy was I wrong. No one holds a grudge quite like Olivia Ortiz. The woman is pure evil and I don't even think she cares as much about her son as she would like us to believe. The only thing she cares about is having power and maintaining it.

My heart broke for Hen and Karen when they were told they could no longer be around Mara. It never occurred to me there could be something wrong with Maddie and Chimney fostering Mara as a way of having Hen and Karen around. At least they didn't remove Mara from the home. I think that would've broken Hen and Karen. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, we learn via Gerrard that the ultimate goal is to not only break up Hen's family at home but her work family as well. The woman is diabolical I tell you! In the most surprising move on the episode, not only do we get a conclusion to the Mara/Olivia Ortiz storyline, we get a twist! Turns out, Gerrard is still a steaming pile of horse shit but he is capable of doing something really good - even if there's something in it for him. 

Who knew that Chekov's bodycam would be the thing that brought Olivia down. I just knew that when we saw Gerrard go to Ortiz's office that things were about to go left. Turns out, Bobby does manage to get through to Gerrard during his visit to the firefighter show set and he uses his own bodycam to expose Olivia's nefarious plans to close the 118. We get to see that footage played during the hearing at the end of the episode and just like that, ding-dong, the wicked witch is dead and that's not even the best part. Gerrard ends up taking over Bobby's job at the studio and Bobby is reinstated as the rightful captain of the 118. It's a win-win situation although something tells me we haven't seen the last of Olivia Ortiz.

Best emergency sequence?

One of the major complaints about last season is the lack of emergencies we got to see the 118 respond to. The first three episodes of the 10-episode season were dedicated to the cruise ship disaster. We had an episode devoted to Maddie and Chimney's wedding. The last two episodes were all about Bobby. Thankfully we're back to the kooky emergencies that really put this show on the map. As far as what's the best emergency sequence of this episode - that's a hard one. Out options this week is Death Becomes Cheerleader and Tiger King. The emergency involving the tiger in the high-rise building was especially fun because we got to see Chimney be a total bad-ass with a tranq gun. My pick for best emergency sequence is our totally twisted cheerleader. Not only does it involve body horror and toxic masculinity, this emergency also feeds into Eddie's storyline. It did make me a tad bit nervous when we got the establishing shot of a football field and cheerleaders performing a routine. The last time we had cheerleaders in the show, it ended in tragedy. Weston does manage to survive his injury thanks to Eddie and his superior paramedic skills. I do wish they would play up his paramedic side a bit more on the show but that's sort of hard to do when you already have Hen and Chimney there.

We learn that Weston has a strained relationship with his father who isn't exactly thrilled about having a cheerleader for a son. I've always found the whole 'cheerleaders aren't real athletes' sentiment to be baffling because one could argue that cheerleader requires a lot more athleticism than playing football does. Yes, I know that football players are putting their bodies on the line for the sake of winning a game but cheerleaders are flipping and being tossed in the air all without wearing pads and there's a strong chance they may fall on their head or in the case of this Weston, get their entire body twisted around. Unfortunately, Weston's father Mike doesn't see cheerleading that way. He thinks cheerleading is for girls and deems his son as less masculine for being a cheerleader. Eddie decides to talk to Mike about his treatment of Weston which leads me to my award.

Episode MVP?

The MVP of this episode is Eddie Diaz! Yes, you read that correctly. I really liked the scenes we got with Eddie. Minus the awful mustache, it really felt like we got old Eddie this episode. I was totally on board with the advice he gave to Weston's dad. At first I thought it was a bold move for Eddie to seek out Mike and talk to him. No offense but Eddie is hardly the person to be doling out parental advice at the moment. I did like his approach to talking to Mike. Eddie was very honest about his own fraught relationship with Christopher. I truly felt for Eddie during this conversation because things have not improved between him and Christopher and he doesn't want things to get so bad that he becomes Mike and Christopher becomes Weston. Eddie does manage to get through to Mike and we see father and son reunited at the end of the episode. Even if Eddie isn't able to repair his own father/son relationship, at least he can facilitate reconciliation between Weston and Mike. Hopefully we get to see more of his journey towards forgiveness and reconciliation in the next episodes. I miss Christopher and I can't wait until he's back in Los Angeles where he belongs.Hey writers! More of this Eddie please. Oh, and please, please, pretty please with sugar on top get rid of that creepy mustache! Ryan Guzman is a gorgeous man and it's diminishing his sexiness. 

BuckTommy Corner

There's no BuckTommy in this episode. For our third episode straight, Tommy Kinard is nowhere to be found. But I'm not too upset about it. Lou Ferrigno Jr. did shout-out the episode on Twitter so I am quite confident we will be seeing him soon. The man stays booked and busy so the show has to work around his schedule. I do think this is a sign that he is meant to stay for the long haul because I'm sure they could find another actor who is more available. I get the sense that Tim and the gang really love Lou and what he brings to the show so they are more than willing to take what they can get.

Something I found amusing that is BuckTommy is adjacent to Gerrard's nickname for Buck in this episode. He calls our dear sweet Evan 'tight-end' which is a reference to his position when he played football back in high school. I did wonder if Gerrard's usage of the name is more about Buck's sexuality than it is about a football position. Also, I never really figured out if Gerrard knew about Buck and Tommy. I'm sure he knows about Tommy but does he know  they are dating? I guess that's all moot because Gerrard is gone and Bobby is back. Poor Buck has been so miserable as of late. Hopefully Bobby being back will mellow him out a bit. 

Overall, I really enjoyed this episode. It felt like classic 9-1-1. I've said it once and it bears repeating - the move to ABC continues to be one of the best things that has happened to the show. The network truly cares about 9-1-1 and is throwing all the money at the show. I do wish they could have rescued 9-1-1: Lone Star as well. Maybe Sierra McClain would still be on the show if the spin-off made it over to ABC as well. I have heard some scuttlebutt about there being another 9-1-1 sequel that will air in conjunction with the OG series but nothing definite. I do wonder which city they would pick if we do get another show. My vote is for New Orleans or Atlanta. But hey, we're talking about 9-1-1.

I am curious as to what's in store for everyone now that everything's been reset. Bobby is back at the 118 and Hen and Karen got Mara back. I hope we get to see more of Buck and Tommy. I am curious about the journey Eddie's about to embark on. The B*ddie shippers seem to think we're about to see Eddie wrestle with his latent homosexuality but I think the man has bigger fish to fry. Eddie needs to deal with his religious trauma. I think he also needs to reckon with his feelings about Shannon. He also needs to get Christopher back. Our boy has a lot of work to do and playing kissy face with his best friend and coworker is not even remotely a priority. Another thing I think we're going to focus on is Maddie and Chimney's first year of being married. Maddie's last marriage was a total nightmare and old habits die hard. I wonder if we will see her struggle with own personal demons as she navigates a marriage with Chimney. I can't wait to see Bobby and Athena move into a new home and deal with being empty-nesters. I do wonder what they have in store for Hen and Karen. Hopefully they're good for now and maybe all we need is the occasional scene of domestic bliss. I guess we'll have to wait to see what happens next. Until next time ...

[yuseirra]

How Hikaai is constructed & the character building of Hikaru- an analysis

Jotted down my thoughts about Hikaai!! as a person who's been drawing a wad of them SO MUCH LATELY!!! This is my thoughts I have about them!!

The reason I've been drawing a lot of hikaai art after Chapter 154 is because I'm convinced that this person could never have harmed Ai.

I know the circumstances seem unsettling, right? The narrative had constantly hinted that he might have been involved in Ai's death, or that he could be the one behind it. The story itself has guided our thoughts in that direction.

But after reading that chapter, I thought, 'Ah, this person isn't the culprit... He couldn’t be the kind of person who would harm Ai...' and I was sure of it. That's why I hopped in. Until then, I had been following the story, but it was at that point that I became certain and committed to this belief.

Yes, if he were the one who harmed Ai, he wouldn't act this way. He wouldn't speak or behave like that. Even if we grant that he might have become a crazy person who would genuinely harm Ruby, I believe it's highly likely that he had no responsibility for Ai's death. Even when he himself directly admitted to orchestrating the crime, I was convinced that it was a lie. And later, there’s a scene, although ambiguous, where he says that he really did nothing and never wanted to hurt anyone. If what he'd said earlier were true, the story would have concluded there; they wouldn't have inserted conflicting elements into the narrative. BUT I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. THIS GUY, DID NOT HARM AI. HE CAN'T. The story simply would not lead to that conclusion.

I've been drawing, shouting that there's no way he did it, and that chapter almost relieved my frustrations... until Aqua showed up, and then I got a headache... Haha. Aqua, why are you getting in the way of my happiness... Just let me enjoy this...

I'm pretty sure at least up until the point of Ai’s death, he wasn’t the type to do heinous things.

When he was with Ai, his expression looked so... so genuinely happy. Among all the smiles that characters have shown throughout the series, his stands out as one of the happiest and brightest. That's how much he cherished her. Even in the latest chapters where he seems completely insane, this is consistent—Ai was such an important person to him that he couldn’t let go. Losing her drove him completely mad.

Honestly, while I haven’t managed to present a coherent story myself, as someone who writes stories, I believe:

When Ai confessed that she wanted to live with him forever and that she loved him, that was it. It was over. He would never harm Ai. Not only would he not hurt her, but he simply cannot. He can't ever be the type to bring himself to be aggressive toward her.

Because, from a meta perspective, Ai is a character for whom failure in choosing to love is not an option. That’s crucial to the story’s message.

If he was the kind of person who could make Ai say such endearing things about him, there’s a 99% chance that he did absolutely nothing wrong concerning Ai. This story isn't that twisted or convoluted on that regard. The message it tries to set forth is quite clear.

In terms of character design, I think the authors probably designed Kamiki to be Ai’s partner.

They might have created him alongside Ai from the planning stages, or designed him to match her after creating Ai. That’s really evident to me.

This is because his character arc is thoroughly tied to Ai. Whether it’s in a good way or a bad way, Ai is everything to him as a character. Everything about him revolves around Ai. If he does something, it’s because of Ai. If he wants something, it’s also related to Ai. As expressed in the songs, Ai is his everything. Without Ai, he couldn’t even live—his character is fundamentally tied to Ai’s existence.

Ai has relationships with other characters, not limited to romantic ones, but that extend in various directions. However, with Kamiki, there’s no emphasis on such relationships in the story. Apart from his relationship with Ai, there’s only one other very toxic and exploitative relationship, but it's not worth mentioning, and that connection even pushes him closer to Ai, emphasizing their relationship. I think the authors gave him that past as a way to convey to the readers that such things can happen, and also to highlight how his emotions, insecurities, and misunderstandings shape his connection with Ai.

If I were the author, I’d pair Ai with a good person. Not because she needs a good partner out of pity, but simply because Ai, as a character, should make choices that she won't regret regarding having chosen to love. If she were paired with a truly strange person, it would destabilize the entire narrative structure of the story. Ai is crucial to the story’s direction, functioning like a map or compass for the journey that Aqua, the main hero, takes.

If it turns out that Ai genuinely fell for a truly weird guy, it would only make things worse. It would shake the story’s core so much that I wouldn’t even understand what the story is trying to convey. That’s how I see it. It’s not about romance—it's that, if that were the case, I wouldn’t even know what the story is trying to say anymore.

Kamiki... just looking at him, it’s clear. He’s... a character made for Ai. If you take Ai away, what’s left of this character? Yes, his pretty looks... though lately, they're making him make crazy faces..(please..) I do love how he was kind in the past! I find his character really charming and I look into him a whole lot, I care for him, and I've been exploring his mind so much, spending so much analyzing. I really do care about that character. But objectively speaking, from a narrative perspective, what would he do in the story without Ai? This character fundamentally cannot exist in the plot without Ai, and he clearly, clearly loves Ai. In my view, he genuinely means it. I’ve analyzed his personality thoroughly, and his core nature is truly kind. Whether in a good way or a bad way, his actions are driven by Ai.

If Ai is crucial to the story, then naturally, his importance would rise alongside hers.

If Ai’s wish is connected to him, then, as it’s treated as significant in the story, he too would be treated as significant.

When it comes to him, what matters most is how Ai feels about him.

More than anyone else.

Because... I see it...; he’s a character created to be Ai’s partner. For example, if Ai were a puzzle piece, he’s made to fit her. Ai’s personality seems to come first, he reacts and behaves to it in a way that matches her story.

So their personalities match really well, and they’re incredibly compatible. They just naturally grew close and fell in love immediately, didn't they? That's because they were designed by the artists to be a match. It's a writing choice they made.

The issue with their relationship stems more from external forces than from themselves. If nothing had happened, they would have fit together like soulmates and lived happily. For instance, Ai’s fundamental desire is to love and to find someone worthy of receiving that love and to love them together, right? Kamiki fits perfectly there. He wants to be loved and find someone who would truly love him. Ai loves caring for others, while he, being neglected, needs someone who can understand his pain. Ai might lack some common sense, but she has a certain shrewdness, while he has better social skills than Ai and would get along better with others, yet is so naive and detached in critical ways that Ai could complement him. Ai wouldn’t have wanted to live with him forever for no reason; they were made for each other from the character design stage.

So if Ai didn’t like him, then it means he was actually a bad person, but if she truly loved him, then he was someone worth loving.

And it turned out to be the latter. That’s why I started analyzing from the point of Ai’s judgment. Yes, he was truly someone worth it.

If it’s the latter, then it’s basically over. There’s really nothing else to see here.

But the story keeps dragging on, with him acting crazy, and it’s frustrating. The answer is clear, but the story keeps complicating things. This manga just drags on and on, going in circles... I even took a break during the Aqua-Kana arc because I got tired of the story running around in circles while the conclusion was already there. But I think that’s the authors' style. They seem to believe that this is what suspense is.

Every word Ai says...

Ai should never say such things about the person who killed her. Even if the character might think so, the authors shouldn’t craft the story that way. That scene was meant to be a closure for an entire arc.

Yet they did it.

That means there’s a reason. It means this person is not Ai’s assailant.

Then the song was released. The emotion in that song, the person singing it, couldn’t possibly have killed Ai. Are we to believe that someone who orchestrated Ai’s death would feel regret and produce such a song? It’s an incredibly unlikely and far-fetched idea. Absolutely not. After listening to both songs, I thought, ‘Ah, this person isn’t to blame,’ and that’s why I went back in.

I just wrote in one go, following the flow of my thoughts, but I’m not sure if I actually managed to write the analysis I wanted to.

Anyway, Kamiki is a character who comes attached to Ai. If there’s a piece called Ai, he’s someone molded like clay to fit into that space. I like that kind of thing, and I’m drawing him with the conviction that he wouldn’t have hurt Ai.

Like, “Huh? Turns out this guy might not be as responsible for Ai's death after all?”

If I had believed that things were exactly as they seemed in Chapter 154, even to that extent, I wouldn’t have drawn him at all. A character is a character, but my ethical standards are firm. I don’t count that kind of thing as love. I might observe, but I wouldn’t be drawing this many fanarts of him. What would be so attractive about that…

But it feels like Ai truly loved him, and that he genuinely loved her too.

And if that’s the case, then if he’s someone Ai loved that much, he has to be a really good person. He has to be one of the best people out there.

And it turns out I was right. I was right. That’s how his true nature was.

And Ai… she’s a character who deserves to meet a truly good person. So, from a narrative perspective, that’s what delivers the best message.

My intuition… is usually pretty accurate, though honestly, the story has become really exhausting and stressful for me. I can see all the answers, yet… the story is dragging on and on like this (or at least that’s how I feel; I could be wrong in the end since it's not my story. But if that's the case, then… I’m not sure how they’ll weave it into a good story). I just don't think I'll end up being wrong in the end.