#if I think a work is bad why would I care enough to create something in response to it?

[cent-scratchnsniff]

it was just going to be a few warmup doodles but then she infected the rest of the page like the ever eternal and spreading spores. hod!!! hod. hod :)

[musical-chick-13]

"Truly GOOD works don't have thriving fandoms because people aren't interested in fixing them, so what do they have to write fics/make art about."

Idk about you, but I don't write fic for properties I don't genuinely enjoy and think are, on some level, actually good.

[destielembarker]

NSFW LOGAN HOWLETT HEADCANON TURNED FLUFFY

logan howlett x reader

tags: nff, super sperm, no protection, logan being himself, pregnant reader, logan’s kids, fluffy, family making

description: Logan’s abilities bring you children.

-idfc if he’s 200 whatever years old, he fucks like he’s 16. increased stamina means multiple, multiple, multiple rounds a night.

-he’s got an increased sperm production and potency. so it’s a lot, thick ropes filling whatever he wants. (crazy how your birth control stopped working after meeting him.)

-that being said, if you were to get pregnant he would know within a couple of days afterwards. he could smell the hormone change in your body.

-his babies are HUGE. good luck if you’re on the smaller side because you’re gonna have to be within distance of a hospital very close to the due date because they’re coming. thus forcing him to not go on missions for a month which he obviously complained about

-oh did i say ��they’re” yeah his cum is so potent he’s prone to twins or triplets. (i know how twins work i promise i have a degree in this shit)

-ofc the babies are gonna have a full head of hair like their daddy.

•••

-when your water does break, daddy logan is so fucking bewildered and nervous but he is FIERCELY protective and speeds you to the hospital.

-i mean having to send him out during the birth was bad enough because you were screaming in pain and he started panicking and yelling at the doctor to help you only creating more chaos. he was there for the birth if he promised to keep quiet.

-when the nurse comes in at night to check on you and the babies he jumps up out of his chair wherever he’s sleeping and drills her with questions. “what are you doing?” “why is that necessary?” “when are you gonna be done?”

-the drive home was the slowest you think he’s ever driven, ever. that man didn’t even follow speed limits back when cars were invented so why start now? but no, he drove 10 under the entire way home clutching your thigh with one hand and checking the backseat every second he could.

-he was so happy to have you and the babies home after a longer than normal hospital stay because of the excessive bleeding you experienced. he made a wooden crib for both of them and wooden signs with their names on it. and he actually slept for the first time in a week. you would complain but he looked so peaceful and it was the first time he didn’t startle awake with loud noises.

-he was the first to get up to check on the babies everytime they cried and he was prone to bring them back to bed, carrying the not so little to you but looked little in his arms, to sleep after you warned him of the dangers but he assured you he knew what he was doing. he brought extra blankets and pillows for you and fell back asleep with his babies cuddled close.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

future:

-it was about 3 years later and your son and daughter were so much alike but so different. the little girl took after her daddy looks wise. your little boy looked like you. but the personality’s were switched. she acted like you and he acted like his daddy.

-she was a little spitfire like her mommy, “daddy! help!” she yelled, trying to give him a bag of gummies to open. she only came up to about his upper mid thigh in height so to watch him look directly at the floor at her was adorable.

-he smiled and kneeled down, “ok what do we say when we want something?” he asked her in a sweet voice. “uhh. do it now daddy!” he laughed and SNIKT, he carefully opened the bag for her as she stood back and watched. you taught her to not stand too close when daddy has his claws out. not that he would do anything or be negligent but she is at perfect height to get nicked if she isn’t careful.

-he retracted his claw, “i was looking for a pleassseee” he says to her. that’s when she snatched the bag out his hand and ran back to her room screaming “thank you daddyyy!!” he stands up and laughs to himself looking over to you at the dining table with your son in your lap, fast asleep.

-“at least she said thank you.” he says laughing and walking over to you giving you a quick kiss and sitting next to you. “Lo, if i never was in the picture i would’ve assumed you gave birth to that girl yourself by the way y’all have the same dark hair and tuffs on top with the green eyes.” you laugh at him.

-“i could say the same for that one sweetheart.” pointing at your son. that’s when he started rousing awake in your lap to turn his head enough to look at his daddy and flick him off with his little finger and settle back into your lap and fall asleep.

-both of you laugh and Logan says, “well, now there’s no denying he isn’t mine now.”

-you both giggle and turn around to face your daughter who’s walking into the room with something in her hand. “daddy. sit.” she says pointing at the floor. so demanding, like you.

-he crawls from his chair onto the floor infront of her. “watcha got baby?” he says. “bows! ima make you pretty like mommy!” he turns to look at you and smirks. he always told you how pretty you were. that’s his child that’s for sure. she spends the next 10 minutes putting pink bows on top of each of his tuffs on his head. he isn’t happy about it but he loves her so much he allows it.

-that’s when my son wakes up and looks at him and says, “you look cool, bub!” and you all laugh.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion prefers monogamy.

Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.

*added note due to misunderstandings.

Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.

So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?

Take..

"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."

And mix that with...

"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"

And add..

"You're you. Nobody is like that."

Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.

Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.

I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.

You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.

Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.

"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."

But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.

Is he? Or is he people pleasing?

If he had said something along the lines of,

"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "

I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.

He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.

Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.

"You were patient. You cared."

Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?

I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."

And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.

Wheeee!

I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.

If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.

So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.

I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.

[wttcsms]

balancing act ; satoru gojo.

pairing satoru gojo x f!reader   word count 3.9k   synopsis gojo bets that he can get you to fall in love in three months, and you bet that he can't go three months with staying committed to one person and not bang them. neither of you plan on losing. content contains modern no curses!au, mentions of sex and vulgar language (but no smut yet), simp gojo <3 author’s notes i plan on wrapping things up quickly this time around, so i have five parts planned for this mini series!

Satoru Gojo is used to a wide array of reactions to any of his antics: awe (the summer analyst, Miwa, always stares at him like he himself is the one who created the stock market), irritation (Nanami is rarely ever in agreement with the comments Gojo leaves on his work), lust (Gojo gives just as much he receives because he’s benevolent like that — his words, of course). 

But he’s not quite used to being laughed at. 

He’s handsome, and he knows it, a deadly combination for any man because Shoko claims that all men are born with an astonishing amount of audacity and it only ever grows as they get older. Satoru brings up the fact that Shoko technically cheated her way through med school, and that any doctor worth her degree wouldn’t get onto patients while lighting up a cigarette of all things, but Shoko is equally stubborn and audacious as any man, and it just makes her a worthy opponent to get into arguments with. 

Being attractive and arrogant isn’t enough to keep him from suffering mild humiliation from time to time, though. The reason why Satoru doesn’t get embarrassed is because the world is unfair, so he happens to be born rich and smart enough and talented enough to just keep on getting richer. Even he is entirely aware of his privilege, but he’s got the type of personality that would be endearing even if he wasn’t hot, so everyone loves him. 

And you don’t hate him, he knows that. He also knows that you don’t love him, which is fine, because it’s not your love, or awe, or irritation, or lust (okay, maybe some lust would be nice) that Satoru wants from you. He just wants you for you, your honesty and whatever scraps of yourself that you toss to him. 

Today’s scraps are your laughter, which rings through the whole entire office, singing above the noisy clacks of keys being smashed by the analysts and the whirring of the printer shooting out hundreds of pages a minute. He feels a warmth spread from his stomach to his chest and maybe it even rises up to his neck, he’s not so sure. He should feel slightly embarrassed, he thinks, to have said something seriously only for you to find comedy in it, but he doesn’t. He just feels pleased with himself for making you laugh, like he’s done something great.

“You are so full of shit, Gojo.” You’re still smiling, even though you’re not bothering to look at him anymore. Your attention is now focused on the report one of the analysts has turned into you, and from the lack of comments you’re leaving, he assumes it’s Megumi’s work. 

“I was being serious, y’know.” Satoru’s more than tall enough to see over the cubicles, especially when he’s standing up, and he leans over it, his head and upper body leaning into your personal desk space. The cubicles don’t do jack shit for privacy, anyway, so he doesn’t feel bad when you complain that he’s invading your privacy. If it was privacy that you craved, you wouldn’t have three monitors raised, each of them displaying a jumble of numbers and words that Satoru doesn’t care about. 

“So was I.” You tell him.

Just thirty minutes ago, you walked into the office with a quad shot espresso, unceremoniously plopped your Longchamp tote onto the floor, and dramatically sighed to get your desk neighbor’s attention. Utahime is always a good sport when it comes to your antics but doesn’t bother extending the same courtesy to Satoru, which he considers to be very unfair considering that he’s technically everyone’s boss. It is his name that’s displayed on the side of the building, and his private equity firm that he’s built up alongside Suguru. 

“What happened this time?” Utahime asks you, like the good sport she is. Satoru, at that time, was pretending not to eavesdrop even though he is, because he’s a nosy bastard. 

“I hate men.” You say, leaning back in your chair. “He left me for someone nice.”

The way you say it lets him — and Utahime, who is actually the person you’re talking to — know that that nice was a direct quote from your ex.

Utahime furrows her brows, looking confused. “But you are nice.” 

Debatable, is what Satoru wants to say, but he’s remaining silent so he can get the full story out of you first.

“No. I’m a workaholic with no personality outside of my fancy finance job.” 

Ouch. 

Satoru doesn’t see an issue with you, though. So what, you’re hardworking and focused? He thinks it’s kinda hot to see someone with so much ambition and discipline. He wouldn’t have hired you if you were anything less. 

“He’s just insecure.” Utahime says, soft voice trying to soothe you, even though Satoru hears the familiar sound of your manicure typing in your login details to your computer. He knows it’s silly to think he can tell the difference between your typing and anyone else’s, and he doesn’t want to think too hard about what that could possibly mean when it comes to defining his feelings for you.

“You said the same thing about my last three exes, and they all said similar things about me.” Satoru can’t see either of you from this angle, but he’s certain that you’re opening up your emails right about now. The conversation is coming to a close, and he needs to start focusing on his own tasks, but then you say something interesting, practically baiting him to come out of his office.

“I’ve decided that from this point forward, I am swearing off men.” 

Utahime laughs. “You can’t just swear off all men because of a few bad ones.”

“Not forever.” You clarify. “Just for the time being. All the men I’ve dealt with  in Tokyo suck.”

On paper, all your exes are fantastic catches. There’s the surgeon (who found you to be too independent), the professor (who thought you were too busy to give him the attention he needed), the hedge fund associate (who thought that he liked smart girls, but apparently, not ones smarter than him), and your newest ex, the investment banker. The irony isn’t lost on anyone — an investment banker criticizing someone for being a workaholic obsessed with the prestige of their finance career? If he was going to scramble for an excuse to want to see other people, he should have chosen some other cliche line instead of using the same one someone else must have said to him. 

“What’s this about men in Tokyo?” Satoru strolls up to the divider between you and Utahime, hands in his pockets, pretending that he hasn’t been listening to the entirety of your conversation from the very beginning.

“That all of them suck.” You say, with that unwavering confidence he likes. 

“I’m a man in Tokyo.” He’s grinning.

“Yeah. I stand by what I said.” You’re not even being courteous enough to look at him, still focused on whatever email is on your screen.

His grin only grows wider.

“Maybe all the men you’ve been with are subpar, but I bet I could change your mind.” 

“Is this even appropriate for work?” Utahime interjects. 

“If it’ll make my dear employee Utahime happy, I can grab someone from HR to supervise this conversation.” Satoru says.

“It’s a trap.” You tell her, lips curling up in a smile that lets him know you’re going to say something very mean and probably true about him. “He’s already broken protocol with everyone who works there.” 

“You’re very disrespectful to your boss. Anyone else would have fired you on the spot.” Satoru only pretends to be wounded by your comments, but everyone knows that he’s as good at taking it as he is at dishing it out. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that Satoru owns this firm because he’s not very good at professionalism himself. 

Utahime mutters something under her breath, deciding not to engage further in whatever it is the two of you are doing.

“So, whaddya say? Wanna test out your ‘all men in Tokyo suck’ theory with me?” He knows this teasing won’t go anywhere, even if he wants it to. You’re good at your job, and you’re good at being a professional. Somehow, he doesn’t think you would consider fucking your boss as something very professional. 

“I would, but I have standards.” 

Satoru wants to make a snide comment about all the guys who have dumped you, but he can’t, because it’s already been established that they’re not just decent by regular standards, but stellar. Rich, successful, well educated men who could probably make you cum. 

Well, Satoru is richer, more successful, and more educated than all of them combined, he thinks. And he would gladly make you cum like crazy, if you let him. 

“C’mon, what’s wrong with me?” 

“Promise I won’t get fired if I’m being honest?” You turn your desk chair, looking up at him with mock doe eyes, and the sight shouldn’t be both endearing and hot to him, but it is. 

“Give me your worst.” He tells you, both of you smiling at the challenge. 

“I don’t give anything of myself to a man who can’t even bother to commit to anyone.” 

Of course, you have a point. Satoru’s not known for dating anyone. He takes women out on extravagant dates, yes, but he doesn’t actually practice the act of dating. 

He doesn’t see a point to it. Most people, save for his friends (a bit weird to consider some of his closest companions are actually his employees), see beyond his shiny veneer, and dating would just complicate things. Dating means someone seeing the duller, not-so-great parts of himself.  

“I could commit if it’s you.” 

The way he says it, without that familiar teasing lilt of his, makes you burst out laughing. He really is trying to commit… to the bit, that is. For a moment, Satoru almost tricks you into thinking he’s serious. 

“You are so full of shit, Gojo.”

You’re focused on your work, not the momentary hurt look that disappears from his face as quickly as it came. 

“Don’t be such a pessimist.” He tells you. “I bet I could make you believe in love again.” 

“Who said I didn’t believe in love?” You frown at that. “I just don’t believe that the men in this city are capable of it.” 

“Bonus season is upon us.” Satoru says, suddenly having a bright idea. He’s so rich that his wealth seems to be an extension of himself, and like all other parts of his body and mind, he uses it to his advantage. 

“Ugh, don’t tell me this conversation is going to affect my bonus check. I really will go to HR, then.” 

“I’ll double your bonus pay if you let me court you for three months.”

“Court me?” You’re laughing at him again. He eats it up, savors it, lets it settle on his tongue and warm his insides. 

“If you’re so convinced I’d be horrible and only prove you right, wouldn’t you jump at the chance to make some easy money?” 

He’s trying to bait you into accepting; you know it. You also know that nothing from Gojo comes easy. He makes it entirely too convenient to forget that he’s razor sharp and cutthroat, the things he needs to be in order to remain on top of the finance scene, but he’s always joking, always teasing, that it feels like he almost doesn’t like being taken seriously. 

“Like I said, I don’t deal with men with commitment issues.”

There was a brief moment in time where you considered going out with Gojo. The two of you have always been rotating in the same social circles, way back to your high school and university days. You don’t shame him for having casual sex because Gojo is genuinely sweet when he wants to be, and you know that everyone he’s ever fucked has done so more than willingly, probably too eagerly. They all get broken up over the fact that Gojo never wants to actually enter into a relationship with them, and it’s probably because they chose not to take him seriously. He has a bad habit of spitting out the truth but presenting it like some sort of joke. A guy shouldn’t take you out to a nice dinner and make you cum twice before even thinking about himself if he doesn’t want a girl to fall in love with him. 

For as long as you’ve known Gojo, he’s never dated once. Never a high school sweetheart or a tumultuous college relationship bound for disappointment and a messy breakup. Even now, he doesn’t follow the example of the other men in positions of power like him, who pursue doe-eyed college girls to shower with affection and trap into manipulative relationships. 

He’s cute and funny and would treat you right, but you can’t deal with the embarrassment of having someone only for one night or two, only to have them do the same thing they did with you, just with someone else. It would feel like a mockery. Your pride doesn’t give you room to give in to Gojo’s charm.

“Is that really your only stipulation?” He shrugs, like this is something insignificant, and you’re being so silly. “I’ll stay committed to you for the entire duration of the bet.” 

You narrow your eyes. “You need to keep your dick wet at all times. I’m pretty sure you die if you don’t get off at least once a day.” 

Utahime coughs, but it sounds too much like a laugh. 

“True, but I bet you’d be great at keeping me alive.” 

Oh, he is definitely getting sent to HR.

“So you want me to believe in love, and you’re convinced you can do this by the time bonus season rolls around, which is only three months.” You’re entering business mode, rearranging the facts and coming up with strategies in your head. Satoru never thought that someone thinking could be so attractive, but here he is, and here you are. 

“I’ll agree to participate, but only if you can handle what I consider to be proper courting.”

“What does that consist of?” He’s got you, hook, line, and sinker. There’s nothing Satoru Gojo cannot accomplish. He’s built up his own wildly successful private equity firm, doubling his family’s fortune. He graduated top of his class. He gives every girl he’s ever been with consecutive, mind blowing orgasms using just his tongue and two fingers. There’s nothing you could possibly say that his natural talents and money can’t handle. 

“No sex. No kissing. No touching.” You lean back in your chair, looking far too smug. 

“Done.” 

He doesn’t even have to think about agreeing, but you falter, just for a second. 

“Really?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“It’s not just you saying no to sex with me, but sex in general.” You pause, trying to spot when the realization of the severity of his situation is. When he doesn’t give you a reaction, just still continuing to tilt his head in mild amusement, you continue. “You can’t flirt or take anyone else on a date, and you definitely can’t fuck them, either.” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” 

“You’re going to regret this.” You huff, certain that Gojo is dumber than you thought. He might think this is all fun and games now, but when he’s pent up and unable to get off, you’re certain you’re going to receive a text from him forfeiting the bet altogether. It shouldn’t bother you that he acts like your addition to the bet is easy, because his failure means your pockets get fatter, but it’s no fun playing games when someone isn’t ready to fully play to win.

“Hmm. We’ll see.” He says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Make sure to finish going over all the analysts’ slide decks because I’m taking you out tomorrow night.” 

The timer for the bet starts tomorrow, then.

Satoru thinks it’s cute that you thought you had him there, dangling sex like he’s some barbarian who can’t survive without it. Sure, fucking is fun, and sure, you’re definitely denying yourself of some of the greatest experiences you could have had, but he uses his brain more than his dick. 

If any girl is worth going celibate for, it’d be you.

Sitting in his office, he can’t concentrate on his work. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much that you think not having access to your body would be enough to turn him away. Either you really do think he’s a sex addict, or the men you’ve been with aren’t as great as they appear to be. It’s probably a mixture of both, but this conclusion doesn’t make him any happier. 

Neither does having Suguru saunter into his office, without knocking. Just walks in, like he owns the place. And with his fifty-percent ownership of the firm, and his last name right next to Gojo’s on the building, he kind of does.

“HR is going to have a field day with you,” his best friend says in exchange for a greeting. Satoru would have preferred a hello.

“HR is in charge of the payroll that I fund,” is Satoru’s retort. 

“Only you would force an employee into a childish bet instead of asking her out like a normal person.”

“Didn’t force her.” Satoru conveniently doesn’t acknowledge the latter half of his statement.

“Didn’t really give her much choice, either.” Suguru smiles. “Shit, even I’d deal with your ass for two hundred grand more.” 

“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m committed to one woman only.” 

“God help her.” And then, after taking a second to think, Suguru continues. “Actually, if He really cared, He wouldn’t have kept leading her to the same places as you.” 

“Maybe I’m her blessing.” 

No one in the office knows why Suguru is laughing so hard behind Gojo’s closed door.

“There’s no way this is legal,” Utahime tells you, taking a sip out of her iced matcha latte before continuing on her half-lecture/half-rant. “Gojo needs to be behind bars.”

A bit dramatic, all things considered. It’s not like Gojo’s comments even make the list for sleazy things male coworkers have said to you before, and you’re not entirely innocent, either. You like to poke and prod at him because it’s fun, and you know that Gojo can take it. 

Utahime does not respect Gojo, but she does like him enough to tolerate him. They’re like brother and sister, so much so that one time, someone made an offhand comment about how they should just fuck to get rid of their antagonism towards each other, and they both threw up because they were so disgusted. 

“It is a bit inappropriate,” Nanami comments, and you know he’s right because when has Nanami ever been wrong?

Granted, Nanami must have been wrong sometime in his life. He started out with a similar background as everyone else working in the firm. He landed an internship and then a return offer in investment banking, despised it, pursued academia, and was halfway done with a PhD program in economics before he decided to come back and work for Gojo and Geto. He doesn’t tell anyone why he came back, and no one is close enough with him to ask and expect an honest answer.

Nanami having lunch with you is a treat because he prefers avoiding everyone in the office, so it almost feels like you’ve won a coveted prize, one to show off whenever you get back to the office. He likes to keep to himself, but even he’s only human. The interest in your little bet with Gojo is harbored by him, too, same as everyone else who’s heard about it. 

You should feel embarrassed about having your life so publicly known, but finance is a small, incestual pool. Everyone working within it knows each other, has fucked each other, and will continue to exclusively hate and love only each other. It’s a bit cultish, if you think about it, so you try not to focus on the social aspects of the job. 

“It’s not like I’m on his team or anything. I technically only handle deals managed by Geto.” You say this in defense of yourself, as if it changes the morality and ethics of the whole bet. It doesn’t, but the attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. 

“Geto and Gojo are essentially two halves of the same whole.” Utahime replies. “Geto just has more public decency training.” 

“You’re telling me that you can see Geto betting someone that he can make her fall in love with him in three months?” 

“No. He’s not as audacious. I like Geto, he’s very cautious.” Nanami looks thoughtful for a second. “He would bet six months, just to be safe.” 

Satoru knows that he’s screwed the moment you’re being introduced as the newest student in his class. School started two weeks ago, so everything’s already been settled. Everything important, that is, so the hottest girl in class has been established, along with who’s going to be relentlessly bullied, and who everyone is going to cheat off of. He has different routes mapped out for getting to class, depending on his mood and who he’s trying to avoid, along with a new secret hiding spot that he’s not going to share with anyone, except for Suguru, and maybe Shoko. 

He likes that he’s already gotten all this shit dealt with so he can spend the rest of the year relaxing, but he’s watching you as you’re standing in front of the class, talking to the teacher and then introducing yourself.

The first thing he notices is that the ugly school uniforms are decidedly not ugly. He comes to this startling conclusion when the boxy, starchy white button-up shirt doesn’t look like cardboard on you, and that the gray wool of your skirt doesn’t wash you out. 

The next thing he notices is that you speak differently than any of the other teenage girls he’s dealt with, save for Utahime and Shoko. Shoko has no issue with speaking her mind, and if Satoru presses enough buttons with enough pressure, he can get Utahime to curse like a sailor. He spaces his aggressions out accordingly, so that way when she does blow up in his face, she does it in the presence of an adult. You introduce yourself confidently; there is nothing shy or meek about you, even though standing in front of a bunch of disinterested teens — your strange new peers for the rest of your high school years — should be anxiety inducing. 

Then, you take the empty seat next to him like it belongs to you, and Satoru is starting to think that maybe it does, that maybe it always has. 

(Well, Suguru is sick today, that’s why the seat was available.)

Anyway, all of his carefully laid out plans are now tossed out the window. He needs to figure out what route you take to get around, and what the rest of your class schedule looks like, and maybe it’s just him, but the former hottest girl in school has now been demoted to second-best. 

He feels a shift in the air, like the universe is trying to signal major change in his life, and rather than run away from it, Satoru settles into his seat, noticing how you’re not even giving him the time of day. 

There’s an unfamiliar feeling rising inside of him; something that says you’re going to constantly knock him off-balance and—

—he kinda likes it.

[violenteconomics]

ace for the first time losing his cool and being forced to rely on the other 1st years,,, (an absolute nightmare for him, wdym ace trappola isnt in control of his emotions and how hes perceived?) im thinking maybe smh with his brother? he cares about him a tons so it probably would be him that makes ace panic sm that he cant even use his 'cool and unbothered' mask. putting this guy in situations where he has to acknowledge he actually has friends and open up to them but also feel so overwhelmed by it

PFFFFFTT OKAY I SEE YOU. anything with ace being a mess is an absolute win ❤️ anything 4 u, baby.

okay, so, here's how i imagine it to go:

ace is just hanging in the courtyard by himself, probably checking his grades on whatever portal night raven college uses for that, when he gets a text message from his dad.

his brother had an accident on the movie set he was working on, and he's in critical condition at the hospital.

which is honestly too bad, because according to nrc code, ace can't leave to go home and see him unless it's "a matter of school and personal pride". like any good nrc student, ace tries to bottle it up and go on about his day. but as the week goes on, and he gets no updates about his brother's condition, his facade quickly falls apart.

he gets in trouble for having his phone out in class — not that he can concentrate, anyway. he's handing in papers that are incomplete, quizzes that are unfinished, and you can forget about that 5,000-word essay he owes riddle.

deuce is the first to notice that something's wrong. he starts covering for ace, making excuses for why he can't come to see professor crewel "right this instant", or why he keeps missing ramshackle hang-outs. every single time his lies get more and more outlandish, ranging from "i asked him to go check on my macaroni that i put in the microwave six hours ago" to "we just saw a cow fall from the sky, yes i didn't go with him, what was i supposed to do, miss history class—" he doesn't know why ace is suddenly so quiet or so stressed, but he's not about to make it worse.

yuu notices almost immediately after deuce does — mostly because deuce is a horrible liar. and, as the housewarden of ramshackle, they start exercising their right to have ace stay at their dorm "indefinitely", so ace doesn't get bothered. ace spends most of his time on his phone, so he doesn't really do much, but at least this way, yuu can personally ensure ace sleeps and stays fed and gets off his damn phone every once in a while.

ortho is extremely adept at noticing anomalies, and it's easy to see that the silent husk that's walking around school isn't his smug, slick-talking friend. he doesn't know what's wrong, exactly, but he does know that ace isn't in any mental position to do his work. going against all academic responsibility (do not do this in real life, pls), ortho starts chat-gpting all of ace's essays and homework assignments. he analyzes ace's text messages, and asks idia to create a program for him that would allow him to copy anyone's handwriting. he then uses it to reproduce work that sounds like it would come from ace, and it's actually really convincing.

upon realizing that a) ace has moved into ramshackle and is basically catatonic, and b) yuu's meal budget is already pretty strained just feeding two people, epel decides to chip in. he starts getting even more discrete with the food he sneaks into pomefiore, going so far as to prepare meals in the gymnasium after school to decrease the probability of someone from pomefiore catching him in the act. when he can't sneak in any food, he gets a crap-ton of apple juice, shoves it into a box, and sends it to ramshackle, hoping that'll be enough to get ace through the day.

sebek starts to act as ace's bodyguard, after ace almost ran into someone while looking down at his phone, and said someone nearly slammed his head into the wall. so, sebek asks riddle for ace's schedule, and starts walking him to class everyday. he's more than a little worried about his tiny human friend, who goes about his days with glazed eyes, flat expressions, and one-word responses, but he's hiding it very well. /sar

jack doesn't get nearly as involved as the others with ace's sudden uncharacteristic behavior, but he does still worry for his friend, his ears drooping down whenever he sees him. he offers ace moral support and words of encouragement where he can, but mostly he's forced to sit back and watch as the vibrant reds that encompass ace's natural aura begin to gray. and he doesn't like it one bit.

the turning point comes in ramshackle dorm. all of the first-years have gathered for their weekly hang-outs, but it's more awkward than usual without the presence of a certain red-head that exudes talkative energy. everytime deuce goes to tap ace on the shoulder, or ortho goes to sit down in ace's lap, or jack's tail wags to the point where it's almost thumping against ace's back, they all stop midway through, because ace is clearly busy...

then, two stifling hours later, ace starts crying.

sebek frantically asks what's wrong, but ace is full-on sobbing at this point and finally drops his phone.

ortho wraps his arms around him, unsure of what else can do.

jack picks up ace's phone, eyes widening as he backlogs through ace's messages to his dad, and realizes exactly what's been bothering ace this whole time.

(needless to say, there are a lot of cuddles in ace's future, and a lot of screaming and cursing in crowley's.)

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER TWO

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @patscorner @wbbgetsmewetter @makethemhoesmad @authentic-girl03 @rosemariiaa

kalena speakss 🪽! wanted to give yall another chapter tonight since college is kicking my butt atm and idk when the next update will be. hopefully soon tho!

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California 

“I just don’t see why you keep acting like our relationship doesn’t matter. I'm tired of acting like it doesn’t piss me off.” Julian spoke, disrupting the peace I had created for myself as I got dressed in the bathroom.

We were supposed to be getting ready for the Sparks home opener game against the Dallas Wings. I was exhausted from getting into LAX at an ungodly hour of the night, and now the conversation was giving me a headache.

“Ju, are we together?”

“Yes—”

“Did you ask me to be your girlfriend?” I turn around, slipping the mini gold hoops in my hand into my ears.

“No, but—”

I cut him off before he gets the chance to defend his position. “Then we’re not together.” I sigh. “I like where this is going, I really do, but we can’t keep having this conversation, Julian. I’m tired of it. This is just the way my career is working out right now.”

“So what? You make more money when the public thinks you’re single?” Julian asks. He’s very visibly frustrated, as he has been since before I even stepped off the stage in New York.

“No. I make more money when I keep the main thing the main thing. And right now the main thing is my music.” The words bounce off the wall for a moment, silence cutting through the air. I feel bad. He really is a great guy, and I hate to put him in a position like this, but it’s the way it has to be. “Ju’ come on. You have to understand where I’m coming from. I’m sorry.”

My hand reaches out for his shoulder, attempting to lessen the blow. Instead he steps back from me, shaking his head with a huff and leaving the bathroom. 

“Have fun at the game, ‘Raye.” He speaks as he leaves, and it’s my turn to huff.

I turned around. Looking intently at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. 

This is the closest thing I’ve had to a relationship in years, and yet, I’m spending the majority of it fighting over something dumb. But is it really dumb, or am I being insensitive?

I really do like Julian. He’s funny and sweet, he never fails to go out of his way to support me; I mean he just caught a flight to see me on Jimmy Fallon. He buys me flowers, he cares about communication, and all the little things. But for some reason I Just can’t keep up with it. 

It sucks.

—

May 2025 — Crypto.com Arena, Los Angeles, California 

The atmosphere in the arena is booming, and oddly enough I find myself surprised at how many people have filled Crypto. I’m seated courtside, underneath the basket nearest to The Sparks bench. The game is halfway through the first quarter and at a timeout when I take my seat. 

I have on a burgundy leather set from Fashion Nova. The shirt is a cropped button up that I only fastened at the bottom button and matching shorts. I’m wearing a pair of matching burgundy Prada slingback pumps that my recent success has gratefully allowed me to purchase. 

I sent a last minute text to my sister, telling her that Julian bailed and I would love it if she joined me, hence the slight tardiness. 

I’ve never seen Cassie as excited as she is right now. She’s beaming with energy, you would’ve thought she’s been planning this for months rather than being invited last minute. She’s for sure more of a basketball fan than I am, I credit that to my uncle. Whereas my dad made me more of a football fan.

“You’re gonna be getting infinite Christmas gifts this year for this, oh my God.” Cassie jokes with a kool aid smile on her face. I giggle, brushing her off.

“I’m glad you’re having fun, Cassie.” I giggle, brushing her off playfully. My phone dings, and I pull it up from my lap to check the notification.

Hey I feel like shit about earlier

Talk when you get home?

It’s Julian. Of course it’s Julian. I try to fight the urge to frown but I can’t help the way the disheartened expression forms in my face. I shut my phone off, shaking the feeling off and turning back to the game.

The buzzer sounds, alerting us that the game is starting again. It allows me to finally bring my attention back to the game. The Sparks are down seven, but you couldn’t even tell that the fans were bothered by it. 

“Jumbotron.” My sister whispers to me and I notice the camera moving past ‘celebrity row’ and getting shots of everyone.

“Bro.” I groan. I don’t hate it, it just gets so awkward. The camera man stays out there for too long and then I forget what to do with my hands. 

But regardless, the camera approaches me and my sister. I look up briefly at the Jumbotron before back down at the camera in front of me. A smile spreads to my face and I wave emphatically. Fortunately it doesn’t take very long and the camera man backs away a little.

Only briefly though, because within a matter of seconds he’s crashing to the ground and his large camera falls into Casandra’s lap.

During all the basketball games I’ve ever watched, I’ve always wondered how common the players run into the media crew or the stands. And every time I've sat in an arena, I’ve always said it would never be me. So you can imagine my surprise when a 6 '1 Paige Bueckers fell right on me after getting fouled going for a layup, knocking over the camera man in the process.

“Oh shit, man you good?” Paige asks him. Her hand helps steady him on his feet and Cassie hands him his camera back, mumbling hurriedly if he was alright. The man nods, patting her on the back.

My eyes meet hers, and suddenly I’ve never seen a prettier set of eyes. A shade of blue that was indescribable. Her hand reaches out to the both of us, palms outstretched as she asks, “Are you guys okay?” It comes out as a stutter and I barely notice it but it’s there.

I nod. And then I remember she still has free throws to shoot. “Yeah. All good, thanks.” I smile. Paige turns around, brushing her teammates off with thumbs ups and high fives when they ask if she’s alright. 

I would be an idiot to say that I wasn’t a little star struck. Sure, I wasn’t completely up to date with all things basketball, but I knew more than enough to know just how much Paige Bueckers was loved in the basketball community. Hell, the city of LA basically through a parade when they got that #1 overall pick.

She was a superstar, in all possible definitions of the word. You couldn’t go more than five minutes without seeing her face on TikTok or some commercial. 

And she was stunning; the last five seconds of me staring at her confirmed it in my mind even more.

—

“Thanks, Holly.” I beam with a smile. It only takes a few seconds of me walking away from postgame to hear yelling in my ear and Cam’s long arms around my shoulders.

In the least cocky way possible, I played an amazing game. Yes, the defense I faced tonight was different than when I was at Connecticut and efficiency wise I did struggle a bit. Who am I kidding— I played phenomenal.

26 points 9 rebounds and 7 assists, the pick-and-roll with Dearica racking up many of those. The team came out with a narrow win over the Wings, getting our season off on the right foot.

“That’s my fuckin’ rook!” I hear Azura Stevens hype me up. I dap her up cleanly, the smile on my face physically impossible to get rid of. For only being on the team for a month, they did a great job of welcoming me with open arms. 

I could definitely get used to this.

A towel hangs around my neck, picking up all the sweat from the game. I’m walking towards the locker rooms with a few of my teammates when I get pulled back for some autographs. I don’t say no, honestly I can’t remember the last time I refused to sign an autograph. Or if I ever did. 

There’s a young girl in front of me alongside her mom. She has on the UConn National Championship shirt from a month ago, her eyes wide as she pushes my sparks jersey up to me. I sign it with a smile, my heart swelling in size when she squeals and thanks me profusely.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming out!” I grin. My feet carry me through a few more fans. I sign all sorts of memorabilia from hoodies, to jerseys, phone cases, and shoes. As well as a wild number of selfies before I hear my name.

“Paige, come here!” It’s Rickea, as her voice has become widely recognizable in the last month that I’ve been here. “Oh my God, walk slower!”

I roll my eyes as I pick up my pace. She’s standing courtside with her warmups on. “Finally. I wanted you to meet a friend of mine. Maraye, this is Paige.”

When I look over it’s the girl from the TV last night, standing there with her purse in hand and— oh my God I ran into her like an hour ago. I fell into her lap. Oh my God this is embarrassing.

She looks even more gorgeous than when I was drooling over her last night. Her hair is the same, from what I can remember, but her outfit is completely different. The color she has on is similar to the one from last night, but the set shows off so much more skin. Her legs are toned, the top she wears is unbuttoned just enough to give me a show of the lace black bralette under it, and her gold septum shines in the arena light. 

“Hey.” I greeted her and the girl who sat next to her earlier in the night. “I do apologize about earlier by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” She reassures me.

“P, Cam, and I were watching the show last night. You did great, Raye.” Rickea pushes at Maraye’s shoulder. My eyes catch how she blushes in response. 

“You on a world tour or something? New York last night, and LA tonight.” I joke, and she laughs. Her laugh is possibly more angelic than her singing, and the way her accent popped out when she spoke might even have an edge on that.

“Nah. I just couldn’t miss opening night. Kea’ would never let me live it down, plus my sister is like a huge hoops fan.” She explains, gesturing to the two women next to us. 

I’m towering over her as I look at her but she still keeps eye contact with me. My eyes never leave hers, I didn’t even want them to.

“I was just telling her about Cam and Ben’s dinner party on friday.” Rickea starts. She turns to face me, but I’m still stuck on Maraye and her— well her everything. Rickea swats my arm as slyly as she can to get my attention. My eyes rip away from the musician with an incredulous force. “You are going to that, right?”

“I, uh, I’m not sure. I gotta check on when Drew and my dad are coming to town.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there then?” Maraye speaks. 

Someone please help me figure out why her eyes are so mesmerizing. They’re big and a perfect shade of brown. The slight tilt of her head when she asks me nearly drives me crazy.

“Yeah maybe.” I nod before looking at Rickea. I don’t know how long we’ve stood here, but what I do know is that coach will hand our asses to us on a silver platter if we’re late to the first media session of the season. “Yo, we gotta…” My head tilts towards the tunnel.

“Oh shit you’re right. It was so good to see you guys!” She jumps, pulling Maraye and her sister into a group hug. “Tell y’all folks I say hi!”

The four of us exchange waves and we walk off the court. By the time we make it to the tunnel Rickea is letting out a loud cackle and pushing me away from her. “You’re not even trying to hide it!” She laughs. I know exactly what she’s talking about but I act clueless, it’s too early for my teammates to be ridiculing me over my choices in women.

“You are sooooo going to that dinner party.”

A smirk spreads on my face and I roll my eyes. For the first time all month, I can’t even disagree. Nothing is stopping me from going to that dinner party.

[mrsbarnesxxx]

Eddie Diaz x reader

Angst but fluff at the end

Where maybe the reader is married to Eddie and she asks him about if he ever wants a kid with her and he takes it the wrong way and says something like I only need Christopher and he’s enough, and the reader gets upset and walks off and maybe drives to Maddie’s and chimneys and while she’s gone he goes to their room and finds a box on the bed and he opens it to see the readers ultrasound and he immediately feels bad and goes to talk to her and happy ending.

Thank you so much for the request! I altered it only slightly (just where Eddie finds the ultrasound) but I loved this concept. I love angst with a happy ending!

It was a pretty normal day all in all. Carla was taking care of Christopher, Eddie was at the station, your boss kept sending hundreds of emails, oh and you had found out you were pregnant. Just an average day. You hadn't planned this by any means. You and Eddie had never talked about having a baby. You had been married for a year and a half, but the subject had never come up and you had never pushed it. Look how well that had gone. After staring at the stick in your hand for what felt like an eternity, you finally pushed yourself up from the floor and left the bathroom.

"Hey, Carla, are you okay if I run out? I have to go do something. It should only be about an hour." You say grabbing your keys.

"Of course, honey. Go right ahead." She says.

"Thanks, Carla. Bye bud," you say kissing Christopher on the top of his head before heading out of your and Eddie's shared house.

You didn't even know what you were doing until you were sitting in the waiting room of the local doctor's office reading a magazine.

It wasn't until one of the nurses had called your name 3 times that you seemed to realize they were calling you.

"Sorry." You apologize sheepishly standing and following her back to a room.

Sure enough, the doctor confirmed you were about 6 weeks pregnant and sent you home with a picture of the tiny baby. You knew you couldn't hide this from Eddie for long since you were likely to start experiencing more symptoms, but a part of you was worried about how he would react. Everything had finally settled down with Christopher and work. Everything was stable per se. And now you were throwing a wrench into the serenity the two of you had worked so hard to create. Finally, you decided you would broach the subject once Christopher had gone to bed. You would just ask him if he ever thought about having more kids. Yeah. That would work.

So, that night after Christopher was in bed and you and Eddie were alone in your room getting ready for bed, you took a deep breath before deciding now was a good time to approach the subject.

"Hey, Eddie?" You asked putting lotion onto your arms. "Have you ever thought about maybe having another kid?"

"What?" He asks brows furrowed as he pulls the covers down and joins you in the bed.

"Have you ever wanted another kid? I mean I love Christopher, but I was just curious." You explain, heart racing.

"Not really. I mean, I'm happy with Chris. He's a handful as it is and with him getting older, I don't know. I'm happy that the diaper changes and waking up to screaming is over." He says.

Anger surges through you at his admission. How could he say that? How could he openly admit to your face that he didn't want the baby growing inside of you...not that he knew about that, but that wasn't important.

"Were you even around for that?" You ask not thinking about what you're saying, just infuriated at him. "I mean didn't you enlist right after Shannon had Chris so didn't you pretty much luck out and miss all of those years?"

"What the hell are you saying?" He asks, confused at why you're attacking him all of a sudden.

"I just mean don't you not even know what it's like to be there for those years, so isn't that not a fair standard to measure it by?" You argue.

"What's going on with you?" He asks, turning to you, trying to contain his anger.

You scoff, "Nothing."

"Something's going on 'cause you're acting like a real bitch to me right now for no reason." He says. Instantly his face drops, realizing what he just said to you. "I-"

"Fuck you, Eddie." You say standing up and grabbing your coat. You don't listen to him as he follows after you, grabbing your keys and walking out of the house. You just get in your car and drive.

Eddie watches as you leave, slamming the door behind you. He really messed up this time. "Fuck!" He exclaims hitting the table. Your purse tips over as his fist makes contact with the table. a paper falling out. The paper catches his attention, the white clashing against the dark oak of the table. He reaches to put it back in your purse when the other side of the paper intrigues him. He turns it over to see a blob in the middle of the page. His face drops instantly, he runs his hand through his hair staring at the blob that is the reason for your outburst a few minutes earlier. He sighs texting Buck asking him to come stay with Christopher. 15 minutes later, a confused Buck shows up at Eddie's door.

"Uh...Everything alright? It's kinda late for a sleepover." He says.

"I messed up." He sighs stepping aside. After a quick explanation to Buck after letting him inside, Eddie is on his way out the door, texting everyone if you're with them. A few minutes into his search, Chimney texts back saying that you're there with Maddie and that he really messed up this time.

20 minutes later he's standing outside of Maddie's apartment, ultrasound in hand as he knocks with his free hand. Maddie answers, hands on her hips, brow raised at him, and sass written all over her face.

"I know, I know. Can I just talk to her?" He sighs. Maddie steps aside and lets him find you on the couch.

"Amor?" He asks cautiously, approaching you carefully.

"What do you want, Eddie?" You ask not looking at him.

"Can we talk?" He asks coming to sit next to you. The picture in his hand is what catches your eye. You look up at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly open. "When you asked me if I wanted more kids, you should have told me you were pregnant."

"I was trying to figure out how you would react." You explain.

"Just because it wasn't in my plan to have more kids doesn't mean I won't love this baby." He sighs.

"Well, when I broached the subject you didn't seem thrilled." You say sadly.

"Well, you started attacking me when I said I didn't want more kids." He says softly.

"I'm sorry." You say.

"Me too." He says taking my hand in his. "Come on, let's go home."

"Okay." You say taking his hand and standing with him. After saying goodbye to Maddie and Chim, you and Eddie make your way to his truck and start back home.

"So, how far along are you?" Eddie asks as we pull out of their driveway.

"6 weeks." You say quietly. He starts laughing and you look at him with amusement.

"Does that mean-" He cuts himself off with a laugh. "That we made a baby-"

"At Bobby and Athena's party, yep." You chime in laughing along with him.

He smiles taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it. Looking into his eyes, you knew that soon, everything would be back to normal and you'd have a new addition to your family.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Your New Girl (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You ask Melissa to help you get back at your ex when you lie and say you have a new girlfriend

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: low self esteem, asshole ex girlfriends, alcohol

“I need to ask you a massive favour.”

You closed the classroom door, pressing your back to it. Looking up from over the top of her glasses, Melissa considered you for a long moment. Her lips pursed and in one horrifying moment it came crashing down what a bad idea this had been.

“You know what? Never mind.”

You spun, hand already on the doorknob.

“Whaddaya want?” she asked before you could flee.

You sighed, turning back around. The expression on her face was not helping with the nerves in your body, nor the belief she was about to tear you a new one.

“Look, uh… you know how Ava tricked me into going to the club with her tonight?”

“Uh huh,” you said, the expression on her face darkening.

“Well, through a horrible set of circumstances my ex girlfriend was here, talking to Ava who invited her tonight and I might have mentioned that I have a super hot girlfriend as she was leaving and she said she couldn’t wait to meet her tonight,” you rushed out, watching her incredulity deepen, “and I don’t have a super hot girlfriend and I can’t just not show up because then she’ll know I lied.”

“Why do you care what she thinks?” she asked.

You took a deep breath, not wanting to admit the reason. But the way she was looking at you said you had to or she’d never give you what you wanted.

“She broke my heart. Like shattered into a million pieces on the floor broken. And when she left, she told me it was because I wasn’t good enough for her, and that she’d already found someone better. Salt in the wounds and all that,” you said, “so I guess I just wanted her to know that I’d moved on and she didn’t destroy me.”

The look of pity that crossed her face was the opposite of what you’d wanted to see. You sighed.

“Hon…” Her voice had softened.

“Don’t. Don’t with that voice. I didn’t come here for that.” You pointed at her, advancing on her desk.

“Then what did you come here for?” she asked.

“Right.” You couldn’t forget to actually ask, “I need a super hot fake girlfriend. Janine is annoying, Barbra is Barbra, and she’s already met Ava. And I know it’s a big ask, but would you be willing to pretend with me? Just for one night? I’ll buy you an entire dozen donuts from that place you love.”

“You want me to go to a club with Ava?” She raised one eyebrow.

“Two dozen,” you said.

She considered you for another long moment. You fidgeted in front of her, knowing you were asking too much of her. Of course she’d say no. No one wants to go out with Ava. Least of all Melissa. And it didn’t matter that you were kind of friends with her, not when you were asking her for so much.

“Deal.”

“What?” You must have missed something, “seriously?”

“Sure, hon. As long as you’re good for those donuts,” she replied, turning her eyes back to the work she’d been grading, “text me what time to pick you up.”

Returning home to your sad, depressing apartment, you could feel yourself freaking out. You were going to spend the night with your ex while pretending Melissa was your new super hot girlfriend. Melissa was going to be touching you. Melissa was maybe going to be flirting with you. Melissa, the most intimidating woman you’d met who you’d been half in love with for the last year, was going to be your fake girlfriend for the night. You were so fucked.

You’d shot yourself in the foot by asking her to be the one to help you with the situation you’d created. It must be self sabotage to ask the only woman who could destroy you to do this for you. The only woman you knew who could ruin you inside and out with barely more than a smile.

And yet as you got ready you did it with the hope of her finding you sexy enough to maybe see you more as than just a teacher she worked with.

The buzzer sounded just as you zipped your boots up. Were thigh high boots a smart choice? Probably not, but with your dress they made you look hot. Hopefully.

“Come on up,” you said into the intercom.

The pounding on your door had a tinge of annoyance in it already. You pulled it open, almost reeling back when you saw Melissa standing on the other side. Your eyes scanned her body, lingering in places that weren’t appropriate for a work colleague. Pants practically painted on, tight top with cleavage pushed up, she was the exact kind of vision you imagined late at night when your hand wandered.

“Well shit, hon, don’t you look like a heartbreaker,” she said.

Your cheeks heated and you felt jittery.

“Come on in,” you said, stepping back, “I need to grab my purse.”

“Why do you live in a shoebox?” she asked, looking over the apartment that was made up of four rooms at most if you were being generous.

“Unless you can tell me how to find somewhere better on our salary, this is the best I can get on my own,” you called from the bedroom.

“You could always live with someone else,” she suggested, sounding much closer than you were expecting.

She was leaning on the doorframe of your bedroom, hip cocked, arms crossed pushing up her cleavage even more. Those green eyes were watching you, so intense, making you shiver. Lips curled up in a smirk and you knew tonight was going to ruin you.

“I guess because I don’t have anyone to live with,” you replied.

“That your purse?” She glanced down at the purse in your hands.

“Yup,” you replied, “so we can go now or… never.”

“If you’re having second thoughts now’s the time to tell me,” she said.

“Not unless you are,” you said, hoping you sounded calm.

“C’mon hon.”

She grabbed your arm, pulling you out of your apartment without another word. She held the car door open for you, like you were going on a proper date. Your heart fluttered.

The car ride to the club was surprisingly quiet. You kept sneaking glances over at her, not sure if you should fill the silence or not. Janine would, which made you think Melissa wouldn’t appreciate it. So that left you listening to the radio quietly as you did your best not to stare too long at her.

“Relax,” she said, pulling up a street or two from the club, “we can still leave if you want.”

“I’m crazy for doing this right?” You sought out her eyes, needing the reassurance that you hadn’t totally lost your mind.

“Sure, maybe a little. But who doesn’t get a bit crazy around an asshole ex?” she said, “look, hon, I’m not gonna judge you for doing this but if you don’t want to go in there I can take you home. Or I could buy you a drink and we can ignore her altogether. Since we’re already here.”

You bit down on your lip as you thought about it. The interior of the car was so dark you must have misread the way her eyes flicked down then away from you.

“Okay,” you said, “yeah, a drink. And thanks. For doing this and indulging in my crazy.”

“The donuts are worth it,” she said, opening her door.

You laughed as you followed her, reminding yourself this was an exchange and she wasn’t helping you out of the kindness of her heart. There was no way she liked you enough for that. You weren’t Barbra.

She placed her hand on the small of your back. You could feel her warmth through the thin material of your dress, burning into your skin as you walked to the line of the club. The line stretched far down the block, thumping music spilling out whenever the door was opened to let someone in. You went to join the end of the line but Melissa guided you to the man at the door.

She lent forward, whispering something in his ear. He nodded, holding the door open for them.

“C’mon, hon,” she said, hand sliding around to grasp your hip, “only the best for my girl.”

A high pitched giggle was the only response you gave.

Inside the bass was thumping and the lights were flashing and bodies were pressing in from every angle. Melissa kept her arm around you, holding you close as she wound through people, directing you towards the bar. There were people on tables dancing and you were already regretting letting Ava trick you into coming with her.

“Gimme a beer and one of those green drinks,” Melissa shouted across the bar at one of the bartenders.

She lent back against it, pulling you closer until her body was brushing against yours.

“Are you going to be driving home?” you asked, raising your voice to be heard above the music.

“I’m only gonna have one. Don’t worry, hon. I’ll make sure you get home okay,” she said, leaning forward to say it into your ear. Her lips brushed against your earlobe, making you shiver.

“Hey.”

A hand landed on your shoulder. Melissa’s gaze hardened. You turned, finding your ex standing there, looking as hot as the first day you’d met her. She was grinning at you, eyes slowly taking in your appearance.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” she shouted to you.

“I promised Ava,” you shouted back.

A hand curled around your waist again, hand grazing over your stomach. You were pulled back against a supple body, a chin coming to rest on your shoulder. Your ex turned her gaze to Melissa, smile hardening.

“This is Melissa, the woman I was telling you about,” you said, “Mel, this is Carrie.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Melissa said, not bothering to offer her hand to your ex.

You felt the challenge in the air.

“All good I hope,” Carrie said.

“Keep hoping,” Mel replied.

You had to stifle your laughter. Carrie’s face hardened as Melissa tightened her arm around you.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” she murmured, passing the electric green drink to you.

“Thanks,” you replied, turning your head to look at her, nose brushing against hers.

You paused a moment, breathless from how close she was. Her eyes were lingering on your lips, breath ghosting over your skin. You couldn’t move, drawn into the well of her gravity, leaning closer.

“Aw, aren’t you guys cute?”

You blinked, drawing back from Melissa just enough to be able to breath again. Her hand was still pressing against her stomach, holding you close. Carrie was watching you two, a straw between her lips, sucking slow on the liquid in her glass. Her eyes kept darting between the two of you, something mean curling her lip.

“I didn’t realise you were into older woman,” she said, “I mean she must be old enough to be your mother.”

You felt Melissa stiffen behind you. You rolled your eyes at Carrie, snorting at the implication. It was such a weak argument.

“Sorry, turns out I like someone mature enough to hold a meaningful conversation,” you replied, “and with the experience to be more than an unsatisfying fumble under the covers.”

Soft lips pressed to your cheek. You inhaled sharply, trying to remain relaxed in her hold as eyes narrowed. You took a drink from the glass, covering the warmth in your cheeks and the shaky hand. If just the brush of her lips against the apple of your cheek could do this to you, you would never survive more from her.

“Ava is waiting for you in the VIP area,” Carrie said.

“Oh goodie,” you muttered.

Melissa snorted, tangling her fingers with yours to tug you after Carrie’s retreating back. The brush of her palm against yours, the feel of her warmth so close, the scent of her perfume wrapping around you. It was all too much.

“You’re right,” she murmured against your ear, “she’s a bitch.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Fuck her,” she grumbled but you weren’t sure you were meant to have heard.

You moved into the roped off section of the club, upstairs and exclusive, the kind of place you’d never been before. Melissa slipped her arm around your waist again, the brush of her body making you feel lightheaded. The people surrounded you weren’t so packed in and their clothing was way nicer than those downstairs. Expensive drinks were flowing like water. You felt so out of place.

Carrie sat at a small collection of sofas and chairs in the middle of the room. Ava was holding court, drink in one hand, bottle of champagne in the other. The others around were listening and laughing along. You hovered, feeling so out of place, sliding your arm around Melissa’s waist just to feel grounded to something real.

Melissa?” Ava said, catching sight of you standing just outside their circle, “what are you doing here?”

“She’s with me,” you replied, tightening your hold on her until she was pressed against your side.

Yeah, you were so fucked.

“Wait, you two are together? Since when?” she asked.

“Yeah, since when?” Carrie asked, leaning forward until her cleavage was practically spilling out of her dress.

“A while now,” you replied.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You know I love gossip,” Ava complained.

“Didn’t want you in my business,” Melissa said, “still don’t if I’m being honest.”

“You didn’t have any issue telling me,” Carrie said, looking up from under her eyelashes at her.

“It’s a little different telling you than it is telling my boss,” she replied.

“You trying to make me jealous, cookie?” she asked, smirking up at you.

You’d forgotten she’d used to call you that.

“Since you told me you could do better I didn’t think I was able to,” you replied.

Melissa’s arm tightened around you, fingers pressing into your hip.

“But then you showed up looking like that so I might have to reevaluate that,” she replied.

You couldn’t miss the growl that came from Melissa. She pressed closer to you and when you turned to look at her, she was clenching her jaw and glaring at Carrie.

“Too bad she already has someone then,” she snapped.

Carrie’s eyes were almost lazy as they moved over to Melissa.

“We’ll see,” she hummed, tongue pulling the straw in her glass back into her mouth.

You could feel how tense Melissa was, body stiff, almost vibrating. You turned your head, lips brushing her cheek. Those green eyes flashed down to you, softening for a moment. You sighed, gently brushing a bit of her hair away from her face, fingers lingering on her skin.

“Do you want to dance?” she asked.

“You dance?” You smiled up at her.

“Course I dance,” she said, sounding offended.

“You better show me your moves then, Schemmenti,” you murmured.

She plucked the empty glass from your hand, placing it down on a passing waiter’s tray before threading her fingers through yours and tugging you towards the dance floor. Once you were there, you weren’t sure what to do. Not that you didn’t know how to dance. You just didn’t know how to dance with Melissa. You paused, too far from her to even touch.

“What are you doing, hon?” she asked, reaching out to pull you closer.

“Sorry.” You shook your head, “aren’t you finding this all a bit… weird?”

She pulled your arms around your neck, her own sliding around your waist. Your whole body flooded with heat as her hips began to move in time with the music. She was slow, guiding you against her, bodies pressing closer, one of her legs slotting between yours. Your breath caught, a low throbbing beginning as she brushed against you.

“Does this feel weird to you, hon?” she asked.

You couldn’t answer that question honestly.

“I don’t know if you’re a good actress or just a good liar but you’re weirdly good at this,” you said.

“And you need to loosen up,” she said.

Her hands drifted to your hips. With practiced ease, she guided your hips to sway, practically grinding down on the thigh she’s slotted between yours. You pressed your lips together, doing your best not to let the small whimper fall from your lips. Leaning forward, her hair brushed against your cheek, lips brushing your earlobe again.

“You’re doing fine,” she whispered.

“Do you think I’m making my point?” you asked.

Her hands were guiding you to grind down on her harder. Your eyes caught on hers, not able to look away as the music beat in time with the thud of your heart. Breath caught in your chest, not sure what the expression on her face was. If you had hope, it would be something close to lust.

“She’s watching us,” Melissa said, “and she looks mad. She knows she has no chance with you.”

She hauled you closer, hands sliding from your hips to your ass. Another flash of heat swarmed through your veins. She was close enough that if you just tilted your face up just right your lips would be brushing against hers. The warmth of her body was everywhere and you couldn’t control the way a moan rumbled in your chest. Her lips quirked up into a crooked smile.

A warm body pressed to your back, startling you out of your thoughts. Melissa’s eyes flicked to whoever was at your back, hardening. Her hands, still on your ass, pulled you close enough there was no space between, bodies pressed together as tight as possible. You turned your head, finding Carrie behind you. She gave you a smile you’d seen before, the one she would shoot you as she was trying to turn you on. The one that always inevitably ended with your fingers buried inside her.

You narrowed your eyes, pointedly turning away from her. Melissa was right there and an awful idea entered your head. An idea so bad you knew it was terrible even before your impulse control left your body and you knew you’d be paying for it for years to come. You tightened your arms around her next, pulling her down until she was a hairbreadths away from you.

“Please don’t kill me,” you whispered.

You didn’t give her a chance to respond before your lips were pressed to hers. She was frozen beneath yours for a long drawn out moment. When she began to kiss you back you had to do your best not to read too much into it or enjoy it too much. Her tongue swept over your bottom lip. You gasped into her mouth, her tongue licking in. Your head was growing dizzy and she was everywhere and everything. Her hands on your body, that leg still between yours, the thrumming of heat in your veins making your thoughts scatter until there was nothing but her.

You could taste her, the beer she’d been drinking lingering. You moaned into her mouth, the entire attempt to not enjoy the kiss fleeing. She kissed you harder, hands squeezing. Your hips were pressing down on her thigh, grinding in time with the music again as she turned your body to jelly. You wanted to melt against her and to writhe beneath her and scream her name as you came over and over again.

“Get a room.”

You jumped, lips pulling away from hers. Carrie was glaring at the two of you, bright spots on her cheeks. It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you, reminding you of exactly what was going on. You looked back to Melissa, feeling stricken. The way she was looking at you was something you never wanted to see.

“I’m so sorry.”

You pulled out of her hold, darting away through the crowd. You couldn’t face her, not after that. She had not signed up for you mauling her on the dance floor. She’d never speak to you again. You’d ruined any chance of anything ever happening. Just remembering the look on her face, the way she looked at you, made you want to throw up.

Pushing out of the door onto the street, cold air hit your body. You gasped for breath, stumbling down the street, doing your best not to cry. You had to get home. You had to never show your face again. You had to figure out a way to avoid Melissa for the rest of your life.

There was no plan, your feet just carrying you as far from the club as you could get. You heard someone shout your name. You quickened your pace, curling your arms around your body, trying to keep your ribs from exploding.

A warm hand grasped your shoulder as you were passing a familiar car. It spun you, forcing you stare into thunderous green eyes. You tried to pull away but Melissa’s hold on you only tightened. Tears sprung up into your eyes and you looked away from her.

“What the fuck?” she demanded.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, “really. I… I don’t even know what came over me. I just… I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah, so you keep saying.” She still wasn’t letting go of you, “why’d ya run?”

“Because…” You couldn’t even look at her.

“Because what? Was I that bad at kissing? I know I’m not your first choice but you didn’t have to run outta there like I was something you found living in your drain,” she said.

“What?” She wasn’t making any sense.

“If you were that disgusted by me you coulda asked someone else to help you,” she said and for the first time you could hear the hurt in her voice.

Maybe that expression hadn’t been disgust like you’d thought.

“I ran because I thought you didn’t like it. Or were mad at me. Or were going to hate me,” you said, “I thought… fuck Mel, I thought you hated kissing me.”

She was looking at you like you’d lost your damned mind.

“Why would you think that?” she asked.

“Because of the way you were looking at me. And I know you don’t like me like that and you’re you so I know that you want to keep people you work with at a certain distance. And you wouldn’t want me kissing you since I didn’t even ask and you don’t want me kissing you,” you blurted out.

“Whaddaya talking about?”

You sighed, knowing you were going to have to admit to things you hadn’t wanted to if only to make her think you didn’t hate her. She might hate you even more once you did though.

“Melissa…” She was so going to hate you, “I like you. I really like you. So much that some days you’re all I can think about. And I’ve thought about kissing you so many times before and whenever I imagined it, you always wanted it too. Tonight’s just been kind of a lot, knowing you were doing everything just as a favour and not because…. Not because you wanted to.”

“Hon,” she began to say.

“It’s fine,” you cut her off, “it’s fine, Mel. You don’t feel the same. It’s okay.”

“You gonna let me talk?” she demanded, finally letting you go.

You gestured for her to continue, heart constricting, not wanting to hear the rejection you knew was coming. But, like a love sick fool, you couldn’t say no to her.

“I wouldn’t have said yes to this if I didn’t like you,” she said and then stopped. You waited but it seemed as if that was the end of what she wanted to say.

“I don’t understand,” you said, shaking your head.

Her hands landed on your hips, pushing you until your back hit her car. Your eyes widened, mouth falling open. Her eyes turned down to them, before looking into yours.

“I like you, hon. I’ve thought about kissing you. I’ve thought about doing a whole lot more than kissing too. I thought you were the one who didn’t want me,” she said.

“Why would you think that?” You didn’t know what to think.

“You heard what that… what she said. I’m old enough to be your mom. Why would you want me,” she said.

“Because you’re hot as fuck,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “and my favourite person. I’d take you over everyone.”

She never gave you the chance to say more, lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. She pressed you back against the car, your own hands coming up to cup her cheeks, wanting her closer. She moaned into your mouth, tongue finding yours until you were melting against her. You whimpered and she groaned, drawing back from you.

“Time I took you home, sweetheart,” she said, lips trailing down your neck.

“Don’t wanna go home,” you sighed, fingers sliding into her hair.

“Not your home,” she all but growled, “mine.”

Someone wolf-whistled from across the street. You startled, jerking away from her. She shouted something back at the man, words lost in your haze as you stared up at her unable to believe what was happening. She turned back to you.

“Get in the car,” she said.

You opened the door, feeling her hand smack your ass before you could climb in. You glanced over your shoulder at her, finding her eyes travelling over your body, the exact way they had when you’d opened the door to her. A flush of heat went through you, understanding making the whole thing so much more heightened.

You tugged her into another kiss, short and intense, watching the way she seemed to become dazed when you pulled back.

“You better get me home,” you told her, “because I plan on showing you exactly how hot I find you. And showing you how thankful I am for you helping me.”

“She was wrong you know,” she said, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb running along your bottom lip.

“What?” you asked.

“There is no one better than you. And you’re worth about a million of her,” she said, “way too good for her.”

You felt your heart melting. She tucked some of your hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering on your jaw.

“She doesn’t even compare.”

The next kiss you pressed to her lips was soft, the kind that was heartfelt and sweet, almost sickeningly so.

“Okay, get in. I’m taking you home now or I’m gonna have to fuck you against my car and that guy over there is still watching us like we’re free porn,” she whispered in your ear, making you press your thighs together, “and I’m want you all to myself.”

You slid into her car, smiling sweetly at her. The heated look you got in return only made you sure you had made the right decision by asking her to help you.

The next morning, waking to her lips trailing down your body, you thought you should send a thank you note to your ex. Without her, you might never have ended up telling Melissa how you felt. And then you might never have won the most amazing woman you’d ever met. She deserved at least a thank you note for making you the happiest person alive.

[mildlyromanticperv]

What took you so long?

MReader x Eunha fluff. Friends to lovers.

-Hey, you. -You call out for your best friend Eunha after arranging going out to watch a movie.

-Hey! -Her unwavering excitement and cuteness fills your heart with joy, like every time she smiles.

-You ready? We need to go fast, the movie starts in 15...

-Yep! Actually, I called a cab, it should be here any second... -She looks around waiting to see that yellow car, not long after it appears around the corner.

Upon entering and providing the directions you remain silent looking outside the window, lost in thought as your imagination runs wild on how will your best friend react when you finally say it, when you finally confess.

-Hey, you're quieter than usual, is everything okay? -Her sweet voice brings you back to reality as she places a hand on your shoulder.

-Yeah, I'm fine, work is just too much sometimes and I didn't get enough sleep. -You chuckle slightly trying to brush off the anxiety that you're feeling, certainly there's no good time to speak of your feelings...

During the silent car ride, Eunha can't help but feel uncomfortable, she's used to your bickering and unending yapping of your work or love life, or precisely the lack of it, drowned in worries she gets closer and covers your hand with hers.

-Look, sweetie, you can trust me, whatever's going on you know you can talk to me, right?

If you would have to create a scale from 1 to 10 grading the levels of blushing, you'd certainly be at 11 at that very moment feeling her soft hand and tender caress, she clearly worries, she is clearly caring for you.

-I'm fine, Eunha, for real, it's so cute of you to worry about me but I promise, I'm fine. -The way she looks at you with so much worry just melts your heart, even when through your mind hundreds of thoughts of insecurity and doubt clouds your judgement... Despite the fake smile you put up she smiles back.

-Okay I'll take your word for it but you better be telling me the truth, mister. -She crosses her arms and pouts playfully.

Not really paying attention to what just happened you two arrive at the nearby mall ready to spend the next two hours sitting in awe to the last Avenger's move you two are completely fans of.

Despite what people usually say, spending this much time together with your crush is not that bad, even though in your heart you feel like there's no future... Are moments like these the ones that make it all worth it, or at least that's what you thought all this time, it's what you thought until she closed the gap between you two after coming out of the cinema.

-God! Why are all cinema rooms so freaking cold!

-It's your fault for coming in such a cute dress. -You laughed at her reaction clearly amused and enjoying her closeness, despite her annoyed pout she smacks your arm murmuring "idiot", but in a playful way.

-I'm glad you came with me, Eunha, I know your sisters probably didn't want you to come alone with me... -You chuckle nervously.

-Nah it's fine, they're like that but because they're sure you like me. -Eunha says this without thinking and without expecting that her words would make her blush so hard... Why is this happening? Does she really like her best friend? Should she take the next step?

Her silence worries your heart, it's unlike her to become quiet all of a sudden and it's rarer to see her blush at her sisters teasing... Could it be...?

-Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something, why don't we go get some coffee? -Your reassuring smile sends a warm wave through her body, returning the confidence and her smile.

-Sure, but you don't have to be so cryptic, idiot... -Her usual self comes back as she pokes your cheek protesting.

Some time later...

"This is it." You thought, the time has come finally, is it now or never...

"Either you speak up or you'll lose him forever." The thought crossed her mind when you two finally sat down at the coffee shop and the silence covers you both.

-Eunha... -You're the one to speak first, a billion ways to tell her your feelings cross your mind and none of them is the way you had it planned. -I like you. -Is the only thing you blurted out after feeling everything at once, after all this time...

-I like you too. -Her words come like a bucket of cold water, you open your eyes as much as you can and gasp in full on shock when you hear her words.

Silence falls between you two.

Ten, fifteen, thirty seconds fly by feeling like an eternity...

-You really mean it?

-Yes, Eunha, I really mean it... Since always, I haven't been able to think of anyone but you. -You finally get the courage to look at her in the eyes. -I really like you.

Your heart starts to swell and ache at the sight of her tears coming down, you never thought such simple words would hurt her that way...

-I'm glad. -She says between tears. -Because I didn't know how to tell you either, I was afraid that once I told you our friendship... Us... Would end.

Maybe it's the influence of all the romantic novels and shows you used to watch alone, maybe it's the hero complex you developed when you were a kid, but without giving it a second thought you decided to stand up and quickly rest one knee on the ground while cleaning her tears.

-There's no way in hell I'm going to let us end. Especially now that I know that you feel the same way for me as I feel for you. -The soothing feeling of your hand running through her cheek makes this moment a million times better for her, your eyes meet as the emotions flow out like a stream. Despite the lack of words you are encountering in a bubble, where only you two exist... Where nothing else matters.

Where you two can finally be together.

-What took you so long to tell me? -She asks, the sheer raw happiness pouring out of her every word pierces through your heart making it beat faster and faster, rendering you unable to answer for a couple of seconds.

-I don't know, I seriously don't know! But... -You take a deep breath to collect the last bit of courage you need to take the leap, the final stretch, to kiss her. -But I'm done holding back.

Right at that moment you cup both of her cheeks to hold her into place, you quickly lean forward meeting her lips for the first time and even though it's a rash decision, you make sure your every movement is accurate, precise, filled with emotions.

Her lips respond to your touch dancing freely and hungrily as she returns the kiss with equal passion, she closes her eyes to savour every single second of this intense exchange, remembering every fold, every corner, every inch of you...

The time has finally come.

You two are finally together.

There's no stopping now.

-I love you. -She says after finally being able to convince herself she could live a couple of seconds without your lips and your touch.

-I love you too, Eunha.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

What do you think of a teenage antihero reader?

Readers are the type of people who like to tease others. Of course, they also like to create chaos.

like:

Batman feels sad because his children are estranged from him.

Reader: *deliberately calls Batman papa in front of the Batkids. makes them jealous and fight to get Batman's love.* "Papa, let me join this mission.", "Papa, pocket money?"

Reader: "I wasn't adopted by Batman. Why do I call Batman papa?" *Looks at the Batkids, who look at Reader with bullet-shaped eyes* "Because it's fun and I get to watch them get jealous but can't do anything to me, haha"

Reader: Spend time with your father and I will handle your affairs. Same old account, transfer the money there. *Accepts to stay away from Batman happily because Batkids will pay Reader*

I love this!

I don't know if this is yandere or not so I'll do overall reactions and you can decide whether they end up yandere or not! (If you want proper yandere then don't be afraid to ask)

At first Dick doesn't mind, in fact he finds it odd - who would want to call Batman "Papa" or any type of name like that? Over time however he'll start to feel an odd pang in his chest, he could've been the teenager calling Bruce that, he could have had a good relationship with Bruce like how you seem to (even if you yourself are pretending). So, he gets huffy and irritable whenever he sees you. He'll find some flaw in what you do and immediately tell everyone and try to make you look bad - you don't care clearly but Dick feels like he's doing something so you pretend, kinda.

Jason at first pities you. He thinks you genuinely mean it, that you genuinely see Batman as a father figure. He's so sure that Batman is going to fail you. That is until it starts getting too much. Jason would of spoken to Roy about it over some drinks and despite what Roy would have said Jason would feel bitter and angry - he could have had that! If he didn't fall for that trap, if Joker didn't kill him, if Bruce - no, Batman, got to him in time. Jason would from then on "accidentally" stumble across missions he wasn't supposed to be there for that you and Batman would be on. He'd flip you off before bantering with Batman - you shrug it off, you don't actually have any interest in Batman being your dad.

Tim is automatically suspicious, you're known for causing chaos and judging by how everyone reacts this is probably just one of your ploys. He doesn't pay much mind but slowly gets peeved at your continuance. Haven't you had your fun already? (no, seeing the reactions of the others makes you continue). Tim digs into your civilian life - he and the others found out about it when you first appeared so as to label you as a threat or not. He'll dig up past mistakes and issues then present them to Bruce and you, subtly taunting you with your past so as to convince you to distance yourself. When you don't he gets petty, you approach Batman - he steps in front of you and blocks your path. You yell out to him - he yells louder. You want to go on a mission - oh no.. Looks like you're swamped with work AND injured :(

Damian is immediately pissed. What are you doing? You shouldn't be pretending that Batman is your father! You aren't blood - hell, you aren't even adopted! Damian, though he's gotten better, is very traditionalist (thanks to his grandfather). What you're doing - along with the chaos you cause in general - is against the proper traditional lifestyle. Is he just using that as an excuse and doesn't actually believe it? yes. Is he going to stop? no. Fuck that. Damian dreams of setting his animals on you, the only thing stopping him is that he doesn't want his poor animals to meet such a disgusting person like you. Instead, he'll stand on your toes, ignore you if you need help, stay close to Batman and try and intimidate you away.

Finally they all would of had enough and would corner you, they'd offer to pay you to stay away and you all would sort out a deal.

It'd confuse Batman as to why you're suddenly keeping your distance while his children are constantly around him. Batman has a soft spot for children - you included. He thought he was fixing you but now you're back to your old habits??? Batman would immediately be onto his children and question them. They don't crack easily so Batman checks their accounts, messages, etc until he gets enough proof that they are the reason you keep away. He's obviously disappointed and ends up trying to talk his way into you becoming one of his full allies - you obviously reject it, you don't actually care for him and prefer to not be stuck on just one side.

The others end up being forced to ask you to join back and you reject them, they threaten you that they'd stop paying you and you laugh - they've given you enough money to last a year, maybe more if you're frugal!

[kelppsstuff]

Hi. I really like your works, you amazing writer so i had this silly idea in my head for a while and wanted to request Adam x reader who is Lucifer's little sister. Like she is kind, patient, a little shy (blushes if you compliment her etc.) and very loving angel. She is very close to her brother and he loves her very much but after meeting Lilith they start to spend less and less time together. After finding out that her big brother "stole" first man's wife, she feels bad for Adam and wants to keep him company (after all, she knows that he is problably feels lonely just like she is). Two quickly become friends and eventually starts dating. She is afraid to tell Adam that she is Lucifer's sister thinking that he would hate her for it and abandons her (obviously he is not, but whrerever), but eventually he finds out thanks to Lucifer who is worried about his baby sister who spends too much time with Adam behind his back and confronts his sister boyfriend (I feel like he woud said something like : "Hey! Keep your hads off my sister!" "What?! Sister?!"

I teally hope this is not too much, again I so sorry if it is. If not in a mood for or its too much I understand. Don't push yourself too hard. You amazing writer! Take care!

“Say what now?”

Masterlist

Warnings: none

Taglist: @adamsfavoritesinner @fandomsbookclub @leathesimp @michellesn @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @sirenetheblogger

Adam x lucifer sister

—

You and Lucifer were the closest siblings that could ever be. For a while you didn’t think you two could ever be torn apart. However that changed.

From the dust of the Earth the first two humans were made. Adam and Lilith.

You saw the way your brother’s eyes lit up as he saw Lilith be created. You could practically see the hearts in his eyes.

It started small, Lucifer would go on and on about the first woman. Then he would miss your plan events together. Then soon he would completely ditch you for the woman he had grown to love.

Rumors of your brother new relationship had flown all around heaven. How he stole the first man wife. It had made you feel pity for Adam.

You had decided to just take a peek at what was really so special about these humans. That’s when you saw Adam petting a golden flying animal that had flown onto his hand. He was alone.

“I’ll call you a bird.”

You heard his voice and then you slightly understood Lucifer’s starstruck gaze as you shared the same one. Staring at Adam.

It had become a habit that you would often look after Adam. It wasn’t long until he had noticed.

—

“You can come out you know?” He was staring into the lake but he could feel your eyes. Watching him, always watching him.

You knew the gig was up as you sighed. You had thought you’d been more discreet. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” You spoke softly, embarrassed.

Adam felt heat running to his cheeks at your kind voice. The opposite of Lilith’s. You had inviting (E/C) eyes, and delectable lips.

“Who are you?” The only people or angels Adam had come across was Lilith and Sera. He heard of Lucifer, but he hadn’t even seen him.

“I’m (Y/N). An angel!” Adam head tilted. “I thought Sera was the angel to interact with me. Why are you following me?”

So many questions. Granted they were good ones. “I’m a guardian angel!” You rushed out panicking. You hadn’t want to tell him the true reason for your watchful eyes, that you were Lucifer’s sister.

“Oh okay.” So naive Adam was. So trusting of you, it had made you feel guilty.

—

You didn’t feel guilty enough to confess your relationship to Lucifer.

You would listen contently as Adam would complain about Lilith and her new spouse.

In the menace of talking Adam had two animals floating in the lake. “Look at those!” He pushed your head to the white and gold animals.

“A duck. That’s the gold one.” Adam had got to name all the animals. Every angel made one and Adam would name it. “Lucifer created that.” It had slipped out as you thought of your brother. Missing the times he would gush about his animal that had yet to be named.

“Whatever. That white one, what do you want to name it?” You looked to Adam quickly eyes widened. That was his job. “You know that’s against the rules.” You hushed out.

“Not entirely. You’re just giving me an idea that I’m taking.”

You looked back to the animal you had created. A smile forming on your face. You had never been given a choice. “A swan.”

Adam looked at you with a smile that made you melt and eyes that made you feel warm. That’s when you knew.

Why Lucifer ditched you.

Why he went after Lilith.

Why he would always talk about her.

Why he always wanted to be with her.

He loved her.

And as you looked at Adam you knew you loved him. Entirely. He was him and you love him.

—

Adam too had started to grow a crush on you. You were kind, listen to him, cared for him. You even had a bit of spitfire that Adam had grown fond of.

So when you confessed your feelings Adam had accepted them. He would say he loved you. Adam never really felt love, but he did deeply care for you.

The two of you had started to grow closer and closer and overtime, it be rare for you two to be apart.

—

Lucifer had went to check up on you only to find you gone. He immediately panicked. You never left without him.

He searched all of heaven. The only place left was the garden of Eden. He felt his chest tighten at the possibility that Adam would do something to you.

However what Lucifer saw was the complete opposite. There the two of you were laying down laughing with each other. That did nothing to stop Lucifer brotherly worry.

“Get the hell away from her!”

He had shouted and grabbed your arm, pulling you to him. Adam felt a slight sense of panic. A man was trying to take someone away from him — again.

“What the? Hey what’s the deal?!” Adam had questioned, voice filled with confusion.

“Keep your hands off my sister.” You felt fear lie in your stomach. Your brother had just told the man the secret you kept from him.

“Say what now?” Adam at first didn’t believe it. Not once did you mention a brother. You told him you had no siblings. “Who are you?”

“Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.”

You could feel tears prick your eyes. Adam looked at you with utter betrayal. He had been hurt -/ he had a right to be hurt — and you caused him that pain.

“Adam wait please let me explain.” You had begged. Adam only shook his head. “Don’t. Just go back to heaven.” Adam needed a moment. He needed to think.

He still cared for you. He still wanted to be with you, but how could he? What else have you been lying about? Did you actually love him?

—

Lucifer had dragged you back to heaven. Forbidding you to ever see him again. Adam was trouble according to him.

“You can’t keep me here! Away from him!”

Lucifer knew he couldn’t and fear struck. He went to Sera and proposed a new idea to her. Give Adam a new bride.

—

“Humans need population and if Adam and Lilith won’t, the surely a new woman couldn’t hurt?”

If Adam had a new bride he want nothing to do with you. Lucifer wouldn’t have to worry about your heart being crushed.

The sad truth however was that he had crushed his sisters heart.

He saw your heart break and immediately regretted his actions. He had caused his sister so much pain.

He heard you cry your heart out. Begging Sera to just let you have a chance with Adam. He remembers when he was the one — begging for Lilith — he remembered the relief of her saying yes. You had no such relief.

Lucifer watched as Sera said the final no. He watched as the joy, and love, the life drain from your eyes.

What had he done?

—

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go out on a flight with me?” Lucifer had asked you.

You had loved your brother dearly, you couldn’t find it in you to say no to him. “Fine.”

You slugged out of bed and went on a flight all around the earth. The oceans water hitting your face. The air flowing your hair like crazy.

You had eventually flown over the garden. Like instinct you dropped to the trees. Returning to that old habit of yours.

You watched as Eve kissed Adam and Adam had kissed her back. Those lips that use to kiss you.

You turned away and Lucifer immediately hugged you. Knowing your pain. A pain he hadn’t wished upon you.

“It’ll be okay.”

—

When Lucifer reveled to be your brother, shock was the first emotion Adam felt. Then was the betrayal. Then the anger. Then the sadness.

He just couldn’t figure out why you would lie? Until one day a pebble hit him in the head (from a swan no less). You had lie in fear.

Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Obviously you lied cause you didn’t think he would still care for you. And he went ahead and made you think you were right. Of course he would always care for you.

He went over to the swan and started to pet it. Missing you. Wishing you were there with him.

He remembers when he let you name the creature. The look you gave him. The feeling he felt in his chest when you stared up at with pure adoration and love. Love. Love.

Holy shit he loves you.

A big smile flew onto his face as he hugged the swan. He loves you, and you love him back. You two would be okay. You just had to come back and see him.

—

Overtime you hadn’t came back and Adam cursed himself for sending you away.

A voice called out to him as he petted his swan. “Adam.” He looked up to the woman. He hadn’t recognized her at all. “Do I know you?”

“I’m your new bride, made from your rib.”

Adam felt horrified. No that was wrong. He wanted you to be his bride. He wanted you. He loved you. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t.

“I think you got the wrong Adam lady.” He continued to pet his swan. “I’m spoke for.”

Sera flew down and backed Eve up. “She’s right Adam. Eve is to be your new bride.”

“But I love someone else!”

“You are forbidden to be with her.”

Adam felt tears of frustration come to his eyes. Tears of pure anger. “So Lilith can run off with Lucifer and I can’t be with his sister?!”

In the end Sera force was final. Eve is to be wedded to Adam and he couldn’t stop it.

—

“Ow, that swan just nipped me.” Eve spoke, hurt lacing her voice. Silently Adam praised the Swan.

Ironically the Swan hated when Eve would try and touch Adam. Adam never went anywhere without that swan as well. As you can see quite the problem in gave Eve.

It was one of those rare time the swan was with her lover rather than Adam. Eve took this opportunity. “You know we’ve yet to kiss.”

Good let’s keep it that way.

Adam silently thought. Though he knew eventually he would have too. Adam rolled his eyes and placed his lips on hers.

The kiss was meaningless. It lacked any emotion. And when he was done Adam walked away, rubbing his mouth. He only wanted you.

—

Lucifer knew you weren’t going to be truly happy without Adam. He expressed his concern to Lilith. She was the one who gave him the idea of the apple.

If they had free will, Adam could choose you.

So Lilith and Lucifer had offered Eve an apple. Eve ate the tasty fruit and begged Adam to try. Adam rolled his eyes and took the apple.

He looked to the swan as he took a bite, and suddenly he looked to Eve. Why was he with her.

He didn’t want to be with her. He wanted you, and he bloody well intends to have you.

—

The heavens were enraged with Lucifer’s acts, and the three humans temptations. The banished Adam and Eve.

You cried as you held onto Lucifer. You knew you couldn’t hold on forever, but if he left you truly would be alone.

“Please don’t leave me big brother. I love you so much.”

Lucifer too was crying as he told his sorries to you. He kissed your forehead and was banished from heaven, never to return.

—

You had became heartless.

When Adam joined you in heaven he was surprised by the void in your eyes.

For the first few years you had beloved Adam to be a fake. You couldn’t believe after all this time you weren’t alone anymore.

It took honestly centuries for you to fully open up to Adam.

“I miss my brother.” Your voice broke and Adam swore to you that you would see him again.

Adam didn’t care if he wasn’t fond of your brother, he would find away if it made you happy. And find away he did.

He saw an opportunity and took it. He suggest a yearly extermination.

So every year during the extermination and would give you a kiss as you flew off to be with you brother. And every year you’d cry when you had to go back.

However eventually with Charlie’s new Hazbin hotel you could cost more often.

Adam gave Charlie the go ahead as long as you specifically could go down there once a week to monitor it.

You were finally happy, and no longer alone as you helped Lucifer repair his relationship with Charlie.

—

Ahhhh, omg I really really hope you liked this, and thank you so much for saying those kind things!

[epiphainie]

why do you think bucktommy has been "hitting differently"? i love them don't get me wrong, but i don't think it's been written much differently than buck's previous love interests (yet)

Hi anon, 

I don't think I agree with you there. Well, first of all I think talking about all of Buck's previous romantic relationships as one thing is doing injustice to those different arcs and Buck's character journey. All served different purposes, all were written differently from each other. When I make the distinction that BuckTommy has been "hitting differently" what I mean is that it has what worked in those previous relationships as well as what was lacking. And I think the reason is twofold: the writers being intentional with their choices and how it's all been executed. 

Intention:

Just to be clear, I don't mean anyone has had endgame BuckTommy intentions. Tim has been very clear about how he doesn't plan that far ahead and it's hard to talk endgames with a procedural format like this. But we know they wrote the bi Buck arc with more care, hence being more intentional with their choices than some of his previous relationships. We know that their first kiss had taken multiple shapes before it ended up being this gentle, surprising but still mutual kiss. We know that they wanted to create a story where Buck felt connected to this guy but also safe and light. We know that they wanted to make Tommy a character who can be understanding and lead Buck as he stumbles. We know that Tim thought Lou's buy was important because he didn't want to repeat the same mistake of creating a LI who didn't fit with the rest of the cast etc.

Now you can say some of these fit previous LIs one way or another but it brings me to execution:

Many people talked about this before me, obviously, but I think the execution of everything they planned with Tommy has been great. I mean before their first kiss, this guy goes out of his way and shows up at Buck's to "clean the air" with this virtual stranger because he believes he caused bad blood between him and his friend. Not just that, he reassures Buck about his place in his friend's life and apologizes for making him feel excluded. Now as the audience we know Buck is the kid who'd get hurt on purpose so his dad would pay him attention, he's the guy who sued the fire department because he felt pushed out and isolated, but Tommy doesn't. I think an LI addressing one of Buck's core insecurities in such a direct and reassuring manner before even knowing him is a great way to set up why Buck would feel safe with and understood by him.

Another is that Tommy immediately meets Buck at that vulnerable place when he admits to being jealous of the 118's bond and Buck reassures him back. This for example, is something Abby had done with Buck imo but Buck back then didn't know himself enough to embrace his own insecurities and at a maturity level to address Abby's despite his best intentions. With Taylor, their whole issue was that they couldn't be honest and vulnerable with each other. BuckTommy in this aspect feels different because from the get-go as they're being honest and are on the same frequency when it comes to this.

Episode five, we see them on their failing date, then we see Buck being nervous that he fucked it up in the coffee scene. We've seen this Buck before, when he got into that anxious mode to make sure Abby knew he wasn't cheating on her. Obviously, the context and the stage of the relationship are very different and they both reassure Buck about it not being his fault. Great on both Tommy and Abby.

But then, the immediate follow-up in Abby's case is that she's leaving for abroad. I don't think Abby is being evil or mean with this decision (where I have a problem with is when she starts ghosting him and doesn't just end it, but that's another topic) but again knowing what we know about Buck as the audience, we know this is a big deal. We know this - and later Ali leaving - adds on his issues of feeling like he's not worth it, we know it leads to him basically trapping Taylor because he's so afraid she'll leave. Again, Tommy doesn't. But Tommy gives him a second chance and then shows up at the wedding.

You can say showing up on one date is not proof that Tommy will always be there for Buck, but I think the execution is so good in painting Tommy as very reliable concerning this. Because Tommy doesn't just show up. If the writers' only concern was to write Tommy out of the A plot of episode 6, he could just come to the ceremony and be like "my shift just ended". No, Tommy says he'll try his damnest to make it to the wedding and then he enters the hospital all rushed, haphazard, covered in soot, hair a mess. The dramatique of that entrance immediately validates in the audiences' mind that yeah this is a guy who will do his damnest to be there for Buck. It, again, addresses a core insecurity of Buck's.

Back half of the season doesn't do anything different but we again see Tommy notice Buck's emotional state, meet him in that vulnerable place, and also match his flirty vibe. They're comfortable; it feels earned even in such a short span because of the well execution of their initial arc. This to me what Buck said about Natalia when they thought the show wasn't coming back (and before that relationship was recontextualized as being a dud), about how he feels seen and comfortable etc. Only this time, there's intention, effort, and execution.

One final note in execution - and this is very ymmv because I've seen even from some BuckTommys that they wished they did this differently - I genuinely love how little BuckTommy there is in 7x03. More specifically, I love that Tommy's reintroduction to the series is not through being Buck's potential love interest. He's there in that episode for Hen, Chim, and Bobby. In 10 mins screentime he's quickly established with motives and personality quirks, is involved in the main plot, bounces off of other characters. Again, great execution of a thing Tim intended to do: a love interest who can fill more roles than just the love interest. This basically makes him in his own category in how purposeful and functional he can be as a character in the greater narrative. So yeah I think both as a person in-story and a character, Tommy has been hitting different.

[clydesavage-thefox147]

I don't think enough fanders are aware of this little piece of evidence, so I'm going to post about it. (Also pardon my nearly 2 months long hiatus, been mentally shitty)

Ever wondered why Janus has that pink blemish around his eye?

So, according to Joan in a past Livestream in late 2019, they confirmed that the pink was actually a scar. Yep. A scar. It makes sense since snakes and no other reptiles have that marking naturally. Apparently, it was added to make it more menacing and scary which honestly it did work at the time of his introduction, if you remember how scared people were of him then.

Initially, they weren't going to explain why he has the scar, since it would have been "too intense" to do so. To be fair, at the time it would have been, but now, do we really care how intense it could've happened? Also, I feel it's a bit messed up to make people with scars out to be intimidating, especially since that scar must've been a traumatic experience. I do think that they should go back on their statement and confirm that scar canonically in an understandable, less insulting way.

Now like I said in a previous post, I know Joan isn't much apart of the team anymore however, some of Joan's influence has still carried on in recent canon. Not to mention that Joan literally created Janus as a character. Another thing Joan did mention in their statement was that the scar..has a connection to the next side which is Orange. Which got me thinking-

Does that mean that Orange will be scarred too? Or..did Orange do it to him? Honestly, it does make sense. If you look at the pink hue enough, it does resemble that of a burn scar. Orange has been associated with that of fire.🔥

A character Janus has been connected to is Harvey Dent or Two Face due to Virgil's retort in Embarrassing Phases. According to the comics, Two Face is an ex lawyer who uses his studies in criminology and Law to commit his villainous crimes. He was chemically burned at a court trial, however some alternate versions suggest a more gruesome torture. And, it also happens to be on the same side of his body as Janus' scales and scar. This reference was made the episode right before SvS, where Janus was a lawyer. Definitely foreshadowing.

Another connection is to that of Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender. We know Thomas loves this series and the character is notable here for having a very similar burn scar on the same eye. Coincidence? I think not!

Now, if it is answered, was it truly Orange who did it? What if it was Remus? And was it on purpose or accident? With Remus, it's more likely to be an accident but Orange we have yet to know but it's more likely purposeful. Unless, Virgil caused it and that could be something he's guilty of but who knows. I just feel bad for Janus in the sense that his snake vision must already suck and then he was nearly blinded a second time? Damn man.

But yeah..that pink is a scar..from some injury..from someone...for some reason or motive. What do you think about this?

[woaza]

Can you do headcanons for fixing the fra family? Like before marriage reader assumes that Gerhard is just super protective of his son and that's why he won't introduce them but in reality it's because he doesn't want to drive away the best thing in his life with his biggest mistake

After they get married they attempt to bond with Angelico and overtime Angelico loves his new parent because they actually pay attention to him. Gerhard is stuck with a head full of thoughts. Is this how easy it was? Why wasn't Angelico being difficult like he normally was? Why was his spouse so doting to a child that's not biologically their's? Why did his insides twist every time he saw them bonding? He doesn't hate it... But he's confused...he thought it was jealousy but that's not quite it....it's something more painful

MY MOTHER || Angst

Paring : Gerhard Fra X (Fem) reader

Word count : 3.5K

Warnings : Angst, Neglectful and abusive parenting, Gerhard slightly rude to reader at times. Use of pet names.

Author note : This hurt me so bad, hope they can live in peace and maybe the reader stops Angelico from growing up into an evil man. Also I realize this isn’t really head-cannons but more so just a fic so I am sorry.

“Don’t pry” is what you repeated to yourself. Don’t meddle about where you’re not wanted or desired let alone needed. You’re only in the early stages of courtship don’t frighten the man away. He was certainly not secretive, a gentleman. He would politely tell you as much as he believed was appropriate. Never to much or little information, just enough for you to grabble a small understanding of the inner workings of Lord Fra’s head.

Not wanting to push yourself upon the man. You wanted to be his lady wife. The title of lady Fra was humming in the back of your head in such a sweet melody.

That wasn’t the only thing that created a desire to impress him, but just the man himself. To his prestige hygiene and presence, but to the way he treated you. The way he kissed your hand when he greeted you in the parlor. Both pair of eyes gently bore into each other. It was all so prefect. You didn’t want to push past the formality’s and charming romances.

“Don’t pry.” You heard the back of your head call out. Once again you and Fra were in a brief silence. Discussing the married life and what it would bear for the both of you. The topic of children always fell silent. Only in moments as these did his eyes leave yours. Awkwardly glancing at the nearby painting.

Holding his hand in a fist and politely clearing his thought. “Don’t spare my heir a second thought. He is mine to be burdened with. I’m sure you understand.” He mutters, so unlike him. Such a sure man he was. Always knowing his direction and next move.

So loving and protecting of the boy, it made you smile. How sweet of him to not push a burden of motherhood onto you. Looking out for the boy and his feelings.

Perhaps that’s why he got so flustered when you brought up the topic of the small child. Lord Fra simply desired to keep him safe. To keep a watchful pair of eyes on the boy, not introducing a woman just for her to be temporary. In your mind, maybe he was simply making sure you were perfect.

All these assumptions made you feel even more excited to marry the man. To you it was so admirable that the man would care so deeply.

Unbeknownst to you were all that he ever truly wanted even above the needs of his child. Consuming his thoughts and actions. as he fell deep and deeper, everything he did seemed to be for you. As he woke up and got ready for the day, thinking of what outfit you would complement on him. Once you had noted that you found his hair particularly beautiful, now he never skips another wash day.

He simply had no time for anything else, but you and his duties. Every day when he woke up, he was filled with thoughts of you that were eventually tarnished. Tarnished by thoughts of what you would think of him.

How would you would run at the sight of the snot covered brat. A disappointment he thought to himself, why would he want a child from a wife he no longer has. A Child so dependent on him. On occasion Gerhard thought about Theodore Classico. Such an independent polite child, sitting in the corner of the room, educating himself reading peacefully. Why couldn’t Angelico be that way?

Why would you want to marry a man whose heir is so incompetent? It practically made him cringe in his skin that what he considered a mistake could potentially scare you away from his only deep desire. Your companionship and commitment.

Every night he turned to bed, thinking of the dedication and time he would give you if you only gave him the chance. If only he could keep you away from Angelico.

“If only” was all he could think. “if only that child wasn’t his.” it drove him insane. Why was the boy so needy? Why did he need this? Why did he do that? If only he was like the other Noble children.

In his mind, if he were to marry someone with such a child he would run. Oh how he would refuse such an offer. why would anyone put themselves in such a position? To involve themselves with such a misbehaving child. He knew for a fact, he wouldn’t do that himself. So in good conscience, could he continue to court you and marry you? That is what he desired so deeply.

Yet the guilt followed him. The guilt of pushing unworthy child onto you.

Yet, he didn’t let his guilty conscious Stop him and pursued you. How he couldn’t keep himself away from you even if he tried. Gerhard made a silent vow to himself to do his best to keep you unburdened by the child. Yet work with the agency kept him very busy and he couldn’t be there every day to usher the small boy away from you, what he considered an angelic presence. A gift that the boy was even able to lie his way eyes upon you.

It was a Frigid winters day, Gerhard was called to the agency on an urgent matter. Almost leaving the first thing in the morning. In a large winters coat, appropriate hat, and shoes more equipped for the thick snow that piled on the ground.

He left before you even opened your eyes. As you did immediately you noticed his presence was missing. Much to your dismay you woke to find a quickly written letter. In his rushed cursive he informed you of the urgent business. You groaned and sat up in the bed, stretching your arms and yawning. Standing up from your bed and walking past the crackling fire place. You went to the window, the sun was up, reflecting off of the snow. Your window with a small layer of frost covering the corners.

The snow looked so pretty in the garden. Dispute the un-growing plants the snow was charming and magical in its own way. Icicles hung from the roof of the Estate. Such a peaceful moment, which was quickly interrupted by a quick and shaky knock from the door.

“Lady Fra, may I enter?” A familiar voice of one of the maids. She often was the first one to greet you, she brought you tea and would dress you for the day. “You may.” You said turning you back to the window looking towards the grand doors.

She opened Them Trey in hand, yet one thing caught your eye. A familiar small boy, making a small smile immediately cross your features. “My lady I’m so sorry he insisted and I-“ the maid began to apologize but instead of paying any focus to her apologies you leaned a bit and held open your arms. Angelicos face practically began to glow. “MOM!”

He ran to you and quickly embraced you in a hug, in which you began to place kisses across his face. He giggled but didn’t try to push you away, happily and greedily accepting the kisses. The maid let out a small sigh, whenever Lord Fra wasn’t around Angelico seemed so much more lively. “You know I never have a problem with Angelico, my dear and only son visiting me.” You said as you were crouched down gently running your fingers through his flowing golden hair. The maid setting the trey onto a coffee table

“Miss Charlotte will you leave us be for a moment?” You look up to the maid as you lift Angelico off the ground, walking towards the fire place and your morning tea.

“Yes of course lady Fra, but if I may-“ she cleared her throat “do you wish to get properly dressed?” Angelico looked up at you as you held him in your arms. Anxiously waiting for your answer. “No I’m with my son that can wait.”

She hesitated but then left the room. Angelico was ecstatic! You had chosen to be with him rather than getting dressed. He couldn’t help but hold onto tightly, his small grubby hands clenched onto the opening of your nightgown and sleeve. Leaning his head on your shoulder. “Mother what will we do today?” Moving to sit down on the sofa with him still in your gentle hold.

“I’m not sure I’m free of any duties today. What do you wish for Angelico?”

The youngest Fra thought deeply while your sipped on your warm morning tea. Henry cared for your opinion, wanting to choose something that you would approve of. Yet in your mind that isn’t want mattered. You were is mother and determined to give him the attention and care he needed.

“I just want to be with you mom.” Angelico whispered as he sat on your lap, still in his night wear. The same as you. He smiled as he said the word mom. Lord Fra would be disgruntled when the boy called him ‘father’. Yet you encouraged such an intimate title to be used. Embracing the role as the boys mother.

It’s been a little over a year and he had already grown so attached to you. Throwing tantrums and devastating fits when he was denied your presence. You are his mother, and he was your son. No where was he more content than in your arms.

Gerhard watched this relationship between you two unfold throughout your marriage. As you would go out of your way to sneak the boy an extra treat or have him accompany you to the library. It was so puzzling. He spent all this time keeping the ‘brat’ away from you, how rude of you to go out of your way to ruining his hard work and planning. How it was so so easy for you.

It bothered him.

Why bother? What did you get out of it? Was it to bother him? Were you even aware of the effects it had on him?

The way his fists clenched at the sight of you combing the boys hair or tucking him to bed and singing him a lullaby. It made him sick to his stomach, actually sick. He felt like a deprived delirious man. His common logic which he so commonly used seemed out of the window in the situation.

The boy bothered him, often asking him for simple things. Like food, water or even to use the bathroom. Gerhard would often ask himself if the boy thought he was a servant or someone to give him what he needs. Which in his mind that wasn’t the role he needed to be fore Gerhard. Lord Fra wanted him to follow his footsteps. Be the perfect heir he needed to be. None of the childish nonsense.

Later in the Day Lady Fra and Angelico had spent the whole day together. Day growing into night as the moon slowly crept into the sky, the stars covered by clouds full of snow.

Lord Fra finnaly returned home and was welcomed by the staff and led to the dinning hall where he saw his lovely wife, and son. Both already sat and picking at their plates. As the doors were opened for him neither bothered to look at him enter the room. They were laughing, he didn’t know about what. Lord Fra already felt a scowl form on his face walking to his chair at the head of the table.

Clearing his throat as he walked behind his son. Looking at his wife who sat across from Angelico. You were quick to smile at your husband who didn’t return the familiar gesture.

This startled you but you shrugged it back, he had just returned from the agency. “Ah, My husband welcome home.” With a small Puase Angelico was quick to follow your lead “Hello father, welcome back.”. Angelico wasn’t dumb by means and immediately noticed his father’s suffocating mood. His bad temper filled the room and encroached on everyone’s personal space.

“Thank you.” Was all lord Fra said before picking up a fork and starting to eat politely. You hated when he acted like this. He was such an affectionate man but whenever Angelico was around he was a different man. At least from your point of view. Everyone but you seemed to have this impression of your husband.

Yet An ever so charming man in privacy. “How were your duties today?” You lean towards him a bit, using your body to signal your eagerness to listen. He noticed, his expression softened slightly. But he was far too annoyed with Angelico in the room. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle. We can talk about it more in private my lady.” Was his blunt and rather boring statement.

Angelico looked only at his plate now and the lovely mood he was in, was crushed by his father’s attitude. Your eyes drifted back-and-forth across the table, looking at your son and your husband. Why couldn’t they simply be kind to each-other? “We are in private. This is the privacy of our family is it not?” Was all you had to say before Gerhard shot you a look. His fork pushed into his plate, a pea escaping the utensil.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we aren’t in private.” His words were sharp and concise warning you not to push anymore further.

But you were the only one who knew, your husband could never refuse you. In the letters, he wrote to you speaking of how deeply he felt and how devoted he was to you. You knew his true emotions towards you. It felt silly for the man who had said all of those charming things to you to be sitting here acting like a young boy whose mother had just told him no.

“What isn’t private about the dinning room, my dear?” The smug undertones well hidden to Angelico but not to your grouchy husband. “Dont act stupid-” he sounds a bit louder before turning fully to face you “I won’t speak with that insolent incompetent boy in the room.” Your eyes widen and your smile drops immediately. “Don’t speak that way about him.”

Within a moment you took a breath through your nose and looked over your husband’s glare and made you attention to Angelico who was on the brink of tears. “Angelico, if you’ll excuse me and your father for a moment.” Your tone was firm, leaving your husband no time to object. Your hands pressed firm against the table as you stood up from your chair.

You dared to look at your husband through the corner of your eyes. He rolled his eyes but dabbed his face with a napkin and followed your less then lady like attitude.

The two of you quickly excusing yourself’s from the family dinner hall. Gerhard walked out the large double doors first with you following behind him. Spreading your arms wide to shut the doors almost theatrically behind you, which wasn’t the intent of your movements. But with how grand everything was in the Fra manor, everything almost seemed theatrical.

Including your husbands mood. Which you weren’t amused with.

“What was that?” You said in a brash tone, not looking for more formal words. You were simply fed up with your Husbands insistence to leave out your son from any conversation.

“This is your fault, don’t put this on me. Wife.” His words were sharp, and simply put, rude. He spoke as he stood tall, his arms crossed and his head not even facing towards you. His ego far too big and he knew it would be crushed under a single glance from you.

You scoffed at this child like behavior. Pulling off the glove from your arms, snapping your fingers. To get his attention.

Which worked, he looked at you with surprise. Not appreciating you snapping at him like a dog to get his attention. Yet it seemed to be the only way that cold man would listen.

“My fault? My fault I treat that boy as my son, which I remind you. He is my son- and seemingly you have forgotten that he is your son aswell.” You said sternly, speaking so fast you felt as you might explode with every harsh tone you spoke, but your face quickly softened as your gaze landed on your husband’s handsome features. His normal scowl was replaced with a light, pout? If that’s what you could call it. Maybe more so a frown. The way he looked in your eyes definitely came across as apologetic.

Your eyebrows visibly unfurl and softened. “My love, what is the Behavior?” You whispered, your tone much sweeter.

“Why do you spend time with that boy.” Lord Fra seemed incredibly distraught.

“Because he’s my son?” You said almost as he was a child you had brought into this word. Like it was just second nature to you. In your mind there was no doubt that this boy was your son.

“No he’s not, he’s my heir. My burden.” Gerhard sighed moving his hands to pinch the bridge of his nose. It seems as his body was desperately trying to portray a confident man. His words colored a much different picture.

“Is that all you think of Angelico? A burden?”

“You don’t?”

“No of course I don’t!?”

Without much thought your face contorted into light disgust, or more so concern.

“He takes up all your time and he whines and complains, he’s a pester.” Gerhard’s tone was quite for once but he pushed his words against his teeth, leaning over a bit to keep him and you in close proximity.

“That’s because he’s a child. He needs a mother. I teach him and he grows more intelligent by the day. Angelico is simply growing into a young man.”

“My love your time is much more valuable in other places.”

“I disagree, when you married me. I took on the honor of being his mother.”

“That boy is no honor, he is a burden.”

“See the way you speak of him! It’s horrible!”

Both of you grew silent, the already large hallway seemed to grow larger. This didn’t feel like the man you loved. This was a feeling he had been growing in his heart much longer then the two of you had been wedded for.

“How is it so easy for you?” Was the words Gerhard spoke. They seemed to echo in your head a bit, it never crossed your mind the Gerhard simply didn’t know how to be a father.

“Well why is loving him so hard for you?”

“Because that’s not a burden a man of my position needs to fret about.”

“Well if it’s none of your concern, why dose my involvement impose such a threat to you?”

That made Lord Fra stop in his tracks, he loved your intelligence but in moments when you out wit him was frustrating. He actually had to think, why did your behavior disturb him. On the surface he would simply reply that it was because ‘Your nobility, not our job to think of. Childcare is no place in our lifestyle.’ Yet being a mother is something you’ve woven into your very breath.

Though the very distinct sting of jealousy rang throughout his whole body. It was screaming loudly like a kettle about to overflow. He knew what this feeling was, but by the gods he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Though that was loudest feeling he felt, this was deeper there was more. He didn’t know what it was. But he hated it.

It almost hurt, No I did hurt. He hated this. Why did he have to love you so much? Why was the boy in the way? Why did you love what he considered his biggest imperfection?

“I spent all this time trying to keep my biggest mistake away from you, but now you’ve embraced it with your whole soul. Can you not see how it disturbs my very being my love you have to understand me.” His hands moved to hold yours. Gently guiding them to his lips. Placing a couple of soft pecks across the back of your palm.

“My love, may i request something?” You spoke so softly he almost didn’t catch what you had said.

“Hm?”

“Can you try to be present. I promise I will lead the way, you don’t have to feel this way. Let me show you how darling.”

Lord Fra didn’t say anything but he simply held your hands tighter and nodded his head softly. Maybe he could change, for you. You always seemed to know what to do.

He loved you, so deeply. Willing to follow you into this unknown, and unfamiliar territory. Watching you as you guide him through parenthood. Day by day and hour by hour you were determined to make this family stronger. The Fra name would not be one of coldness and violence. But a family the other lord and ladies could aspire to be.

This change would be hard but not unwelcome by lord Fra.

A/n: I’m still learning to write fanfic’s! Also please excuse grammar mistakes on this one! Thank you!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The moral injury of having your work enshittified

This Monday (November 27), I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

This week, I wrote about how the Great Enshittening – in which all the digital services we rely on become unusable, extractive piles of shit – did not result from the decay of the morals of tech company leadership, but rather, from the collapse of the forces that discipline corporate wrongdoing:

https://locusmag.com/2023/11/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-dont-be-evil/

The failure to enforce competition law allowed a few companies to buy out their rivals, or sell goods below cost until their rivals collapsed, or bribe key parts of their supply chain not to allow rivals to participate:

https://www.engadget.com/google-reportedly-pays-apple-36-percent-of-ad-search-revenues-from-safari-191730783.html

The resulting concentration of the tech sector meant that the surviving firms were stupendously wealthy, and cozy enough that they could agree on a common legislative agenda. That regulatory capture has allowed tech companies to violate labor, privacy and consumer protection laws by arguing that the law doesn't apply when you use an app to violate it:

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

But the regulatory capture isn't just about preventing regulation: it's also about creating regulation – laws that make it illegal to reverse-engineer, scrape, and otherwise mod, hack or reconfigure existing services to claw back value that has been taken away from users and business customers. This gives rise to Jay Freeman's perfectly named doctrine of "felony contempt of business-model," in which it is illegal to use your own property in ways that anger the shareholders of the company that sold it to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Undisciplined by the threat of competition, regulation, or unilateral modification by users, companies are free to enshittify their products. But what does that actually look like? I say that enshittification is always precipitated by a lost argument.

It starts when someone around a board-room table proposes doing something that's bad for users but good for the company. If the company faces the discipline of competition, regulation or self-help measures, then the workers who are disgusted by this course of action can say, "I think doing this would be gross, and what's more, it's going to make the company poorer," and so they win the argument.

But when you take away that discipline, the argument gets reduced to, "Don't do this because it would make me ashamed to work here, even though it will make the company richer." Money talks, bullshit walks. Let the enshittification begin!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/22/who-wins-the-argument/#corporations-are-people-my-friend

But why do workers care at all? That's where phrases like "don't be evil" come into the picture. Until very recently, tech workers participated in one of history's tightest labor markets, in which multiple companies with gigantic war-chests bid on their labor. Even low-level employees routinely fielded calls from recruiters who dangled offers of higher salaries and larger stock grants if they would jump ship for a company's rival.

Employers built "campuses" filled with lavish perks: massages, sports facilities, daycare, gourmet cafeterias. They offered workers generous benefit packages, including exotic health benefits like having your eggs frozen so you could delay fertility while offsetting the risks normally associated with conceiving at a later age.

But all of this was a transparent ruse: the business-case for free meals, gyms, dry-cleaning, catering and massages was to keep workers at their laptops for 10, 12, or even 16 hours per day. That egg-freezing perk wasn't about helping workers plan their families: it was about thumbing the scales in favor of working through your entire twenties and thirties without taking any parental leave.

In other words, tech employers valued their employees as a means to an end: they wanted to get the best geeks on the payroll and then work them like government mules. The perks and pay weren't the result of comradeship between management and labor: they were the result of the discipline of competition for labor.

This wasn't really a secret, of course. Big Tech workers are split into two camps: blue badges (salaried employees) and green badges (contractors). Whenever there is a slack labor market for a specific job or skill, it is converted from a blue badge job to a green badge job. Green badges don't get the food or the massages or the kombucha. They don't get stock or daycare. They don't get to freeze their eggs. They also work long hours, but they are incentivized by the fear of poverty.

Tech giants went to great lengths to shield blue badges from green badges – at some Google campuses, these workforces actually used different entrances and worked in different facilities or on different floors. Sometimes, green badge working hours would be staggered so that the armies of ragged clickworkers would not be lined up to badge in when their social betters swanned off the luxury bus and into their airy adult kindergartens.

But Big Tech worked hard to convince those blue badges that they were truly valued. Companies hosted regular town halls where employees could ask impertinent questions of their CEOs. They maintained freewheeling internal social media sites where techies could rail against corporate foolishness and make Dilbert references.

And they came up with mottoes.

Apple told its employees it was a sound environmental steward that cared about privacy. Apple also deliberately turned old devices into e-waste by shredding them to ensure that they wouldn't be repaired and compete with new devices:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

And even as they were blocking Facebook's surveillance tools, they quietly built their own nonconsensual mass surveillance program and lied to customers about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Facebook told employees they were on a "mission to connect every person in the world," but instead deliberately sowed discontent among its users and trapped them in silos that meant that anyone who left Facebook lost all their friends:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

And Google promised its employees that they would not "be evil" if they worked at Google. For many googlers, that mattered. They wanted to do something good with their lives, and they had a choice about who they would work for. What's more, they did make things that were good. At their high points, Google Maps, Google Mail, and of course, Google Search were incredible.

My own life was totally transformed by Maps: I have very poor spatial sense, need to actually stop and think to tell my right from my left, and I spent more of my life at least a little lost and often very lost. Google Maps is the cognitive prosthesis I needed to become someone who can go anywhere. I'm profoundly grateful to the people who built that service.

There's a name for phenomenon in which you care so much about your job that you endure poor conditions and abuse: it's called "vocational awe," as coined by Fobazi Ettarh:

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

Ettarh uses the term to apply to traditionally low-waged workers like librarians, teachers and nurses. In our book Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin and I talked about how it applies to artists and other creative workers, too:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

But vocational awe is also omnipresent in tech. The grandiose claims to be on a mission to make the world a better place are not just puffery – they're a vital means of motivating workers who can easily quit their jobs and find a new one to put in 16-hour days. The massages and kombucha and egg-freezing are not framed as perks, but as logistical supports, provided so that techies on an important mission can pursue a shared social goal without being distracted by their balky, inconvenient meatsuits.

Steve Jobs was a master of instilling vocational awe. He was full of aphorisms like "we're here to make a dent in the universe, otherwise why even be here?" Or his infamous line to John Sculley, whom he lured away from Pepsi: "Do you want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life or come with me and change the world?"

Vocational awe cuts both ways. If your workforce actually believes in all that high-minded stuff, if they actually sacrifice their health, family lives and self-care to further the mission, they will defend it. That brings me back to enshittification, and the argument: "If we do this bad thing to the product I work on, it will make me hate myself."

The decline in market discipline for large tech companies has been accompanied by a decline in labor discipline, as the market for technical work grew less and less competitive. Since the dotcom collapse, the ability of tech giants to starve new entrants of market oxygen has shrunk techies' dreams.

Tech workers once dreamed of working for a big, unwieldy firm for a few years before setting out on their own to topple it with a startup. Then, the dream shrank: work for that big, clumsy firm for a few years, then do a fake startup that makes a fake product that is acquihired by your old employer, as an incredibly inefficient and roundabout way to get a raise and a bonus.

Then the dream shrank again: work for a big, ugly firm for life, but get those perks, the massages and the kombucha and the stock options and the gourmet cafeteria and the egg-freezing. Then it shrank again: work for Google for a while, but then get laid off along with 12,000 co-workers, just months after the company does a stock buyback that would cover all those salaries for the next 27 years:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

Tech workers' power was fundamentally individual. In a tight labor market, tech workers could personally stand up to their bosses. They got "workplace democracy" by mouthing off at town hall meetings. They didn't have a union, and they thought they didn't need one. Of course, they did need one, because there were limits to individual power, even for the most in-demand workers, especially when it came to ghastly, long-running sexual abuse from high-ranking executives:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/25/technology/google-sexual-harassment-andy-rubin.html

Today, atomized tech workers who are ordered to enshittify the products they take pride in are losing the argument. Workers who put in long hours, missed funerals and school plays and little league games and anniversaries and family vacations are being ordered to flush that sacrifice down the toilet to grind out a few basis points towards a KPI.

It's a form of moral injury, and it's palpable in the first-person accounts of former workers who've exited these large firms or the entire field. The viral "Reflecting on 18 years at Google," written by Ian Hixie, vibrates with it:

https://ln.hixie.ch/?start=1700627373

Hixie describes the sense of mission he brought to his job, the workplace democracy he experienced as employees' views were both solicited and heeded. He describes the positive contributions he was able to make to a commons of technical standards that rippled out beyond Google – and then, he says, "Google's culture eroded":

Decisions went from being made for the benefit of users, to the benefit of Google, to the benefit of whoever was making the decision.

In other words, techies started losing the argument. Layoffs weakened worker power – not just to defend their own interest, but to defend the users interests. Worker power is always about more than workers – think of how the 2019 LA teachers' strike won greenspace for every school, a ban on immigration sweeps of students' parents at the school gates and other community benefits:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

Hixie attributes the changes to a change in leadership, but I respectfully disagree. Hixie points to the original shareholder letter from the Google founders, in which they informed investors contemplating their IPO that they were retaining a controlling interest in the company's governance so that they could ignore their shareholders' priorities in favor of a vision of Google as a positive force in the world:

https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/

Hixie says that the leadership that succeeded the founders lost sight of this vision – but the whole point of that letter is that the founders never fully ceded control to subsequent executive teams. Yes, those executive teams were accountable to the shareholders, but the largest block of voting shares were retained by the founders.

I don't think the enshittification of Google was due to a change in leadership – I think it was due to a change in discipline, the discipline imposed by competition, regulation and the threat of self-help measures. Take ads: when Google had to contend with one-click adblocker installation, it had to constantly balance the risk of making users so fed up that they googled "how do I block ads?" and then never saw another ad ever again.

But once Google seized the majority of the mobile market, it was able to funnel users into apps, and reverse-engineering an app is a felony (felony contempt of business-model) under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a crime to install an ad-blocker.

And as Google acquired control over the browser market, it was likewise able to reduce the self-help measures available to browser users who found ads sufficiently obnoxious to trigger googling "how do I block ads?" The apotheosis of this is the yearslong campaign to block adblockers in Chrome, which the company has sworn it will finally do this coming June:

https://www.tumblr.com/tevruden/734352367416410112/you-have-until-june-to-dump-chrome

My contention here is not that Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in personnel via the promotion of managers who have shitty ideas. Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in discipline, as the negative consequences of heeding those shitty ideas were abolished thanks to monopoly.

This is bad news for people like me, who rely on services like Google Maps as cognitive prostheses. Elizabeth Laraki, one of the original Google Maps designers, has published a scorching critique of the latest GMaps design:

https://twitter.com/elizlaraki/status/1727351922254852182

Laraki calls out numerous enshittificatory design-choices that have left Maps screens covered in "crud" – multiple revenue-maximizing elements that come at the expense of usability, shifting value from users to Google.

What Laraki doesn't say is that these UI elements are auctioned off to merchants, which means that the business that gives Google the most money gets the greatest prominence in Maps, even if it's not the best merchant. That's a recurring motif in enshittified tech platforms, most notoriously Amazon, which makes $31b/year auctioning off top search placement to companies whose products aren't relevant enough to your query to command that position on their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Enshittification begets enshittification. To succeed on Amazon, you must divert funds from product quality to auction placement, which means that the top results are the worst products:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

The exception is searches for Apple products: Apple and Amazon have a cozy arrangement that means that searches for Apple products are a timewarp back to the pre-enshittification Amazon, when the company worried enough about losing your business to heed the employees who objected to sacrificing search quality as part of a merchant extortion racket:

https://www.businessinsider.com/amazon-gives-apple-special-treatment-while-others-suffer-junk-ads-2023-11

Not every tech worker is a tech bro, in other words. Many workers care deeply about making your life better. But the microeconomics of the boardroom in a monopolized tech sector rewards the worst people and continuously promotes them. Forget the Peter Principle: tech is ruled by the Sam Principle.

As OpenAI went through four CEOs in a single week, lots of commentators remarked on Sam Altman's rise and fall and rise, but I only found one commentator who really had Altman's number. Writing in Today in Tabs, Rusty Foster nailed Altman to the wall:

https://www.todayintabs.com/p/defective-accelerationism

Altman's history goes like this: first, he founded a useless startup that raised $30m, only to be acquired and shuttered. Then Altman got a job running Y Combinator, where he somehow failed at taking huge tranches of equity from "every Stanford dropout with an idea for software to replace something Mommy used to do." After that, he founded OpenAI, a company that he claims to believe presents an existential risk to the entire human risk – which he structured so incompetently that he was then forced out of it.

His reward for this string of farcical, mounting failures? He was put back in charge of the company he mis-structured despite his claimed belief that it will destroy the human race if not properly managed.

Altman's been around for a long time. He founded his startup in 2005. There've always been Sams – of both the Bankman-Fried varietal and the Altman genus – in tech. But they didn't get to run amok. They were disciplined by their competitors, regulators, users and workers. The collapse of competition led to an across-the-board collapse in all of those forms of discipline, revealing the executives for the mediocre sociopaths they always were, and exposing tech workers' vocational awe for the shabby trick it was from the start.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification