#its also terrifying to post so you know. enjoy

[capseycartwright]

when all is shaken, be my safety

Carla had said that he knew how it was, at that age - except that Eddie didn't know how it was. His defining memories of being eleven, and twelve, when everyone around him were having crushes for the first time, and holding hands, were memories of confusion and isolation. He hadn't understood the appeal, and he hadn't understood why, either.

He understood now, though.

- or, Eddie comes out to Buck.

ao3 link

“You didn’t say anything about your first kiss – or crush.”

It felt like Eddie’s throat was closing up, as Buck’s words washed over him. He had tried his best to avoid contributing to the conversation – and maybe everyone else hadn’t noticed, but apparently Buck had, and Buck was asking. Eddie couldn’t blame him – Buck was a naturally curious guy, and he was also a hopeless romantic, in his own way, and so it made sense that he wanted to know who Eddie’s first crush was, who his first kiss was.

It was just –

Well, it was a conversation that Eddie wasn’t sure how to have with Buck, or anyone else actually. He had barely begun to have the conversation with himself.

Eddie squinted at Buck, the bright early morning sun watery. “Do you want to get a coffee?” he suggested, because Buck had sort of given him the opening, now, and maybe it was about time that Eddie told someone. Buck would be a good place to start – because Buck would be kind about it.

Confusion flashed across Buck’s face, but he nodded, all the same, following Eddie as he bypassed their cars, heading out into the already busy Los Angeles morning. There was a coffee shop around the corner that they all tended to favour – Buck, especially, because they served all sorts of nonsense non-dairy milk – and Eddie knew it had a quiet terrace around back.

They walked – and queued – in silence, Buck practically bristling with anxiety as they headed for a seat. “Eddie, you’re – you’re kind of freaking me out,” Buck admitted, shuffling his chair closer to Eddie as they sat down.

Eddie took a sip of his coffee, letting the coffee settle into his tired, aching bones for a minute before he spoke. “I don’t know where to start,” he admitted, because that was the truth – it was the kind of conversation that didn’t feel as though it had a particular beginning, no sensible starting point. Could he just dive right into it? He wasn’t sure.

It’s not as if he’d done this before. Eddie had tried to have this conversation with himself, in the quiet darkness of his own bedroom, in front of the mirror, when he’d felt a little more brave, but he’d never had the conversation with another person. Not yet.

Buck would be the first.

(That felt fitting, somehow.)

“You can start wherever you’d like to,” Buck reassured, gentle, always gentle, his eyes wide and sincere as he looked at Eddie. Eddie didn’t know how he got lucky enough to have Buck – kind, generous, understanding Buck – as his best friend. He wasn’t going to question whatever power, higher or not, put Buck in his life - he’d just be grateful he had him.

“Carla said, when we were talking about Christopher – and crushes – that you know how it is at that age,” Eddie said, pausing. He remembered being eleven. He didn’t really remember it clearly – because listen, he was thirty-four years old, and time was a thief – but Eddie did remember it because that was the time his friends were starting to have crushes on the girls in their class. His best friend at the time, Noah, had spent every day for a whole week asking Jessica Mackenzie to hold his hand until she had finally relented during Friday recess and held his hand for a whole five minutes. It had made Noah’s entire day, and Eddie had watched on, confused.

He hadn’t really understood the appeal.

That – that was the first time Eddie felt as though there was something fundamentally wrong with him. On reflection – now, especially, as an adult, as a father himself – it was sad to think Eddie had been a child himself the first moment he had felt there was something wrong with him. Children shouldn’t – children shouldn’t feel like there was something wrong with them because they didn’t want to hold someone’s hand.

Buck nodded, still looking concerned.

“I don’t know how it is,” Eddie admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t – I don’t know how it is because I didn’t have a crush when I was Christopher’s age. I – I thought maybe it was just that I was just a bit behind my friends, on that front, but, um – I think there’s another reason why I didn’t have crushes on girls the same way my friends did.”

Say it, say it, say it.

Eddie sort of felt like he was yelling, internally – just, say it. It couldn’t be that hard – it shouldn’t be that hard.

“You can trust me with anything,” Buck reassured fiercely, reaching across the small table they were crowded around, stopping just short of touching Eddie’s hand. Eddie was sort of glad of that – he might just crumble if Buck touched him now.

Eddie gave Buck a tiny smile. “I know,” he confirmed. “I – the reason,” he took a deep breath, and another, and another. “The reason I didn’t have crushes on girls the same way that my friends did growing up is because I – I don’t like girls. Or, well – I’m not interested in women,” he corrected himself, because he was a grown man. He could say it. He’d grown a lot more comfortable with the word, in the weeks he’d been saying it - comfortable enough that a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he said it aloud, something a lot like pride beginning to coarse through his veins as he discovered who he really was.

Buck was listening intently, his expression encouraging.

“I’m gay, Buck,” Eddie said, and relief hit him with the force of the freight train as he said it to another person for the first time.

(“I’m Eddie,” Eddie said, his own expression fierce as it was reflected back at him, the yellow lighting of his bathroom hardly the most attractive. But, it felt like a safe space to say it out loud. “I’m thirty-four, and I’m a dad - to the best kid in the world - and I’m a firefighter,” he continued, reeling off all of the things he felt defined him: his son, his career.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie looked at himself carefully - there was a time he looked in the mirror, and he didn’t recognise himself, didn’t feel ownership over the body he inhabited. There was a lot of reasons for that, but this - this was one of them.

“And I’m gay,” Eddie said. The world didn’t come screeching to an end, as he said it - nothing changed, really, except the expression on his own, fierce turning to - relief. He was relieved. Eddie had worried, it wouldn’t feel right, when he said it out loud, but his own expression was proof enough that what he’d been battling with for so long was simply the truth. He was gay. “I’m gay,” he repeated, laughter bubbling up out of his chest as he said it again. The tears in his eyes - they weren’t sad ones. No, no - those were tears of complete and utter relief.

“I’m Eddie Diaz,” he repeated, wiping roughly at his runny nose. “And I’m gay.”)

Buck’s face softened, and he gave Eddie the kind of smile that felt like it had the energy to power half of Los Angeles - bright and brilliant, the same way Buck was. “Thank you, for telling me,” he closed that lingering distance between their hands, giving Eddie’s wrist a gentle squeeze.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told,” Eddie admitted.

“Well,” Buck shifted in his seat. “I’m honoured - to be the first.”

Eddie nodded, glancing down at his sneakers, for a second. They were scuffed, at the toe - not that he was precious about that sort of thing. Buck was, but Eddie never minded - the scuffed toes were just a reminder that he was living his life, truly living it - in ways that he could have only dreamed of a few years previously when the weight of his life felt like it was crushing every last breath out of him, leaving him listless, lifeless, a shell of the person he could be if life had given him a different set of circumstances to work with.

He was better now - really, he was.

“When Carla said that,” Eddie continued. “I just - I couldn’t stop thinking about when I was that age, and how I felt like - like there was something wrong with me,” he admitted, brow furrowing. “I didn’t understand. I was too young to understand, and no one had ever explained that there was - there was more than one option. That I didn’t just have to like girls.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck said, and Eddie’s confusion must have shown on his face. “I’m sorry that the adults in your life let you down like that, Eddie.”

It was Texas - in the 1990s, to boot - and so Eddie wasn’t convinced any of the adults in his life had been too convinced there was another option either. The church, and their state - which, depending on who you asked, were the same - didn’t allow for it.

Still -

Eddie was sorry too.

He wondered sometimes, how life might have been if he had been raised in an environment more accepting of sexualities outside of heterosexual. He didn’t often think about it - because it tended to cause a spiral he wasn’t so sure how to deal with - but sometimes he allowed himself a moment or three to imagine how he might have been if he’d grown up knowing it was okay to be gay, or bisexual, or whatever it was you might be.

In another universe, Eddie hoped, there was a version of himself who knew that acceptance, and peace - and he was happier for it, Eddie hoped.

That wasn’t his universe, though.

“Yeah,” Eddie gave Buck a sad smile. “I am too.”

They were quiet, for a second.

“There’s something else,” Eddie admitted, and this was the bit he’d only recently figured out. If he was honest, he’d known for a long time that he was not straight - even if he didn’t have the words for it. When he looked back, with the benefit of hindsight and a better understanding of the world, Eddie knew that he’d gazed wistfully at Noah at lunchbreaks when he’d started dating Jessica for real, when they were in middle school, not because he was jealous of Noah for dating Jessica - like Eddie had convinced himself he was - but because he was jealous of Jessica for being the one who got to hold Noah’s hand. He had wanted to - and he knew he never would. There was a whole laundry list of moments like that that Eddie could draw a line between, all leading to the same conclusion: he’d always been gay, he just hadn’t been ready to admit it. No, that bit he understood.

This - this was new.

To him, at least.

“You know how, when I dated Ana,” Eddie began, waiting for Buck to nod. As if anyone could forget those painfully awkward few months. “I was never really comfortable with the physical part of our relationship.”

Something sad flashed across Buck’s face. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie said, and maybe it wasn’t, but it had to be - otherwise, he’d probably just dwell on it forever. “I - I thought it was the gay thing,” he gestured vaguely. “It was a bit, the whole, being gay, thing,” he admitted. God - he didn’t know how to say this. “Have you heard of asexuality?” he tried. Maybe he could start there.

Buck nodded. “It’s - it’s when you don’t experience asexuality, right?”

“Yeah - kind of,” Eddie paused. “Not really? I - I’m just learning about it.”

“Tell me,” Buck encouraged. “What you’ve learned, I mean.”

Eddie nodded. “Asexuality is - it’s a spectrum, right? Like sexuality.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah - like, you can be bisexual, like me,” he said, clearly trying his best to understand. Eddie appreciated that. “But I’ve tended to date more women - it doesn’t mean I’m not bisexual. I’ve just - I’ve had more crushes on women. So far, at least.”

Eddie nodded. “Asexuality is like that - it’s a spectrum,” he explained. He’d done a lot of research - he’d have to show Buck all the tabs he’d bookmarked. Buck would be proud. “Some people don’t experience sexual attraction at all, and others do, a bit - it depends, right? The same way everyones sexuality looks different.”

“What does it look like for you?”

Eddie huffed. “You joined up those dots, huh?”

Buck shrugged. “I figured you brought it up for a reason,” he hummed.

“There’s this - there’s something called demisexuality,” Eddie explained. “It’s when you’re only sexually attracted to people you’ve got like - an emotional connection with. I think that’s me - and I think that’s why Shannon was so - was so important to me, because maybe I’m not attracted to women, but we - we had that deep emotional connection, and it made it easier for me to convince myself that she was the one. You know? And I realise now that I - I’d have been denying myself more, for the rest of my life, if we’d stayed together like we planned, because maybe we had that emotional connection, but…”

“You’re gay,” Buck supplied helpfully.

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I just - I’m still getting used to the idea of it, you know? Because like - every article I read about coming out when you’re older, and only figuring out you’re gay when you’re an adult is like - telling you to get out, and date, and explore your sexuality.”

“And you don’t want to,” Buck finished for him.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “I don’t want to - because the idea of ever having sex with someone that I don’t know, and feel safe with, kind of terrifies me.”

“You don’t have to,” Buck said. “You know that, right? You don’t need to have sex with another man to - to validate your sexuality, or whatever.”

“I know,” Eddie said. “But it’s nice to hear it from someone else.”

“I,” Buck paused, scraping back his chair. “I’m going to hug you now,” he informed, looking terribly serious.

Eddie loved him.

“Okay,” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, standing up too. “You don’t need to ask permission.”

“I know,” Buck said, and he scooped Eddie into his arms in that same way he always did, his arms strong around Eddie’s back as Buck held him close, his best friends face tucked into the groove of Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie pressed his face into the soft material of Buck’s t-shirt, the soft, powdery smell of his fabric conditioner familiar - they used the same one, after all, so they could buy it in bulk.

Eddie breathed in, and out, slowly counting to ten and back. It had been sort of overwhelming, to tell Buck - well, everything.

“Thank you,” Buck said. “For trusting me.”

Eddie nuzzled his face into Buck’s shoulder a little more. He didn’t care that they were in public. “Thank you,” he hummed.

“For what?”

Eddie let out a breath it felt like he’d been holding for his entire adult life. “For always making me feel safe.”

And that was the point of it all, really. Buck had, from the moment they’d become friends, created a space so safe for Eddie, and for Christopher, that it felt inevitable that Eddie would finally come to terms with all the things he’d been avoiding for as long as he could remember - Shannon, the army, his family, his sexuality - and Buck had carved out a place where Eddie had felt comfortable to do that, all because he had Buck to rely on.

He couldn’t quite articulate how much it meant.

Buck’s grip tightened, in a way that should have felt suffocating, but only made Eddie relax more, comfort and safety sinking deep into his bones. “Thank you,” Buck returned, and Eddie didn’t need to be able to see his best friends face to know Buck was crying. He could hear it, in the way Buck’s voice cracked a little as he spoke.

Eddie wasn’t worried, though - he knew Buck would explain all the reasons for the way he’d been acting these last few months, once he was ready to.

“For what?” Eddie hummed.

Buck was quiet, for a second. “For giving me a family, Eddie.”

And, well -

Eddie couldn’t argue. That was what he’d been trying to do for years, after all.

They broke apart, Buck wiping roughly at his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re the one who just came out, and here I am - crying. I feel like you should be crying.”

Eddie was quiet, for a second. “I don’t feel like crying about it,” he admitted. “Because I’m not scared, or upset about it - not anymore. I feel…”

He trailed off.

“I feel free,” Eddie admitted. “For the first time in my life - I feel completely free.”

“Oh God, you’re going to make me cry again,” Buck was blinking furiously. “I’m going to start sobbing in his coffee shop, and it’s all your fault.”

Eddie laughed, nabbing his coffee from the table. “Come on, you big crybaby,” he teased. “Let’s go home.”

Buck nodded, pausing to pick up his own coffee before he slung an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, guiding them back out onto the street. “So,” he hummed. “What next?”

Eddie grinned up at his best friend. “I have absolutely no idea.”

And he couldn’t fucking wait.

fin.

[buckpaws]

when MF DOOM said theres only 1 beer left

[pulchrasilva]

Sigh I need to rant about certain people and how there is a background noise of discomfort with every interaction after particular incidents that made me go "bitch you live like this???" but all my typical vent spaces are ones where they might see it and the only ones that they wouldn't see it in are like discord channels that are not for this topic of vent or friends who would be uncomfortable with the topic etc like,,, what do I even do? Stew in it?

[toytulini]

hit tag limit on the last post cos i started talking about roller coasters again 😔

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[norrizzandpia]

We’ve seen rabid lado’s girlfriend but what about rabid Lando about his girlfriend

Hi hello welcome back to the universe of feral!reader

Y/n’s Biggest Fangirl (Lando’s Biggest Fangirl Part 3) (LN4)

Summary: A look into the times when Lando was feral for his own girlfriend.

Warnings: suggestive comments, language, the drivers being scared and nervous for the sanity of lando and y/n, Alex says “kms” once and its very loosely used plz don’t do anything like that ever ty

Note: Here are the links to the other parts! Part 1 Part 2 also there is no face claim for this its just blonde, faceless women but you can imagine anyone <3

landonorris if i speak….

Comments:

y/nnn oh! so j to fill everyone in, i sent this to him (one of my friends took it on a girls night) he responded back with some very… um… not safe for work messages

- Mclarensgirly leak them.

- landonorris she leaks them and my entire career is ruined fr

- f1fan2024 y/n. leak. them.

- y/nnn guys. yall know how crazed i am but even i wont leak these texts.

- Mclarensgirly 😟

- f1fan2024 🤨📸

oscarpiastri you are aware this is your MAIN insta account right?

- landonorris yes.

mclaren calling the psych ward brb

—

landonorris who wants to guess where i wish my hand was

Comments:

oscarpiastri THIS IS YOUR MAIN FUCKING INSTA ACCOUNT

danielricciardo mate…

maxverstappen man wtf im just trying to enjoy my winter break

- f1fan34 MAX 😭

y/nnn lando i sent this picture to you out of kindness….

- landonorris and you think I’d do what with it??? Keep it in my camera roll??

y/b/f_username there’s something off balance in your brain but im happy you know how hot your girlfriend is 🔫

- landonorris SMOKIN. DROP DEAD. MOUTH WATERING. DELICIOUS. EXQUISITE. GODDESS. BEAUTIFUL. STUNNING. GORGEOUS. GOURMET.

- y/nnn why am i a meal

- landonorris cause i wanna eat you up

- alexalbon this interaction has made me want to rip my skin off #vomiting 🙁

—

landonorris mommy

Comments:

alexalbon #kms

- oscarpiastri #😟

- danielricciardo #maininstaaccount

- landonorris #mygfishot

y/nnn alr babe that’s enough screen time for you today

- landonorris no <3

mclaren can we live?

Mclarensgirly uh…..

- op81andln4 ok but like… i want him to call me mommy

- Mclarensgirly that’s weird (I’d kill for him to call me mommy)

- oscarpiastri see what you’ve done landonorris?

- landonorris I don’t see a problem.

- maxverstappen GET THIS MAN TO THE ER JESUS CHRIST

—

landonorris prettier than the Trevi Fountain 🫶🏻

Comments:

y/nnn i got the notification he posted, got terrified, then opened it and my heart warmed ☺️

- Mclarensgirly HER INSTA NOTIFS ARE ON FOR HIM 🤭

- landonorris so are mine for her tf

mclaren this works

- landonorris I’ll be back at it again soon dw

- oscarpiastri i will never get a chance to experience what true peace feels like.

F1fan2024 get you a man who will call you mommy and prettier than the trevi fountain on separate occasions in the span of a week

alexalbon i like this one!

- landonorris that’s my gf back off bitch.

- alexalbon damn.

y/nnn dw guys i just sent him another pic of me getting ready to go out with the girls

- landonorris BARK BARK

- danielricciardo #whereisthenearestbombshelter

- maxverstappen #itsover

- oscarpiastri #landomakesmescared

- landonorris #youwishyouwereme❤️

[milfygerard]

the ReasonableRadish5791 account has existed for 3 days and only has 3 posts, 2 with never before seen hesitant alien official promotional and aesthetic outlines, and just a few hours ago leaked the first full song leak from The Paper Kingdoms recording sessions. According to the copyright strike I got on youtube, as well as ReasonableRadishes post, the song is named Witch.

these are the lyrics as ReasonableRadish posted them, though they are of course not confirmed.

This could be a data leak, though I doubt it. The hesitant alien behind the scenes implies someone who cares enough about gerard way to know what hesitant alien is, but the full demo leak implies someone specifically on/close to the MCR team considering its a cleaely unfinished song so its not a leak from a radio station online shop or music store. My personal theory is that its geradd posting because thats the funniest possible conclusion and one of the more realistic ones. The leaks were on the market a year or two ago, so its possible they were bought, but that doesnt explain why the buyer would have access to gerards/gerards teams private promotional files for a (relative to mcr) smaller album release from over 10 years ago mostly enjoyed by hardcore fans. We still have little to no infortmation outside of these posts, and who knows how long the leak will stay up.

@luxxlillian also found an old promotion of the pre-covid planned MCR return tour that may have involved music directly from this leak, which is terrifying for several reasons.

I believe this is the most information we have so far regarding the leaker as well as the leaks in question. If anyone has any questions dont ask me I dont know but if you want to posit your insane crackpot theory please do.

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || hoody

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. remember when i talked about this hoody fic 509 years ago? yeah here it is. also yeS i am aware masky & hoody belong to marble hornets this is the only time im going to address this💀 we are in 2024 in this fandom WE KNOW. anyways enjoy !! <3

If there was anything you could’ve changed about your life, you had a particular decision in mind.

Being a desperate college student for cash, babysitting and dog walking wasn’t paying the off the debt you were accumulating.

You had scoured Craigslist, confident that there would be an odd job you’d be able to accomplish for quick cash.

Looking back you wish you had known quick cash wouldn’t come easy.

A posting offering $5k a week fell into your lap about a week later. The details seemed easy enough. The ability to clean an older mansion, whilst keeping the identities of the multiple infamous residents that resided there a secret seemed like a piece of cake.

What the posting didn’t list, was that the infamous residents were unhinged killers. Some of which you couldn’t even categorize as human.

It also didn’t list that your position would be residing in the mansion, permanently.

Being a maid in the Slenderman mansion was, in lack of better words: fucking terrifying.

The residents operated at odd hours. No matter what time you cleaned, you always received the displeasure of running into someone.

The longer you stayed, the longer paranoia began to settle in. Ben Drowned, the poster of the Craigslist ad, was a perv. You learned to stray away from electronic devices he could peep his head through. Jeff the killer, one of the most unhinged, had a short temper. He was one of the first ones to opt out of having his room cleaned by you, a decision you silently praised after walking by and seeing how filthy it was.

The next to opt out with a demonic creature named Eyeless Jack, one who specifically requested you stay out of his medical lab. Given all of the blood and goop you had mopped up at this point, a fear of being eaten led you to offering to clean it regardless. EJ knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it, given his ‘hobbies’ were the most gore filled of the mansions residents. It didn’t surprise him when you left the lab green, puking immediately in a bucket he had placed beside the door for you.

The other members whose names you were obligated to memorize, Jane, Clockwork, Jason the something maker, all were rarely home. You learned to steer clear of Jason’s workshop, the dolls he made often speaking to you as if they had souls. The only three other residents who lived in the mansion full time (minus its owner), were what you learned to be proxies. These proxies, two of them at least, seemed to be human just like you.

Ticci Toby’s mortality was still up in the air for you. He once had tripped and fallen after you had mopped the floors, landing on the marble face first. He got up like nothing happened, giggling to himself about ‘how wet you made the floor’. After observing him throw axes in the training room, you decided to steer clear of him.

Masky seemed to be the trio’s leader, his face consistently hidden behind a doll resembling mask. He avoided you like the plague, skipping the formalities and acting as if you didn’t exist. You never asked questions, not knowing how long anyone had truly been here. But Masky in particular seemed a bit older than everyone, when you accidentally stumbled upon him coming home late one night from a mission. His nose was trailing blood, his mask broken in half. You ensured to avoid eye contact, but extended a wet washcloth to him so he could attend to his nose.

After that your dynamic remained the same for the most part. Except when both of you occupied a room together, neither of you made an effort to beeline to the door.

Hoody was the last proxy, the one that made you more at ease than the others. Hoody had spoken a grand total of maybe ten words to you, introducing himself and Masky before dashing out of the back door. The only time you really saw him was when you cleaned his room, the man doing a poor job of pretending to read magazines while you cleaned. Other than that, you only caught glimpses of the proxies when they came home in the late hours of the night from missions.

Most of the time they were soaked in blood. In a couple of odd occasions you had to assist them in carrying one another up to Eyeless Jack’s medical lab. You couldn’t figure out why the proxies were here, two humans not seeming to fit in with the rest of misfits that resided here. You had no idea soon enough you’d be up close and personal.

Late night was when you preferred to clean, most of the killers away from the mansion and out hunting. The existence of the residents here only existed because of their dedication to keep their identities a secret. Night time was the perfect cover, for them and for you. You were leaning over the kitchen sink, scrubbing at a particular stubborn pot when you heard the back door open. You tried very hard not to stare, not wanting to gain unwanted attention.

You glanced up briefly, catching a glance of Toby’s and Masky’s familiar figures as they trudged upstairs. “He cost us that fucking mission, Slender’s gonna be so pissed off,” Masky growled, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Toby trailed behind him, an axe dripping blood slung over his shoulder. “Y-yeah, what w-w-was he thinking?!” Toby exclaimed, his stuttering something you had grown accustomed to. You noted Hoody’s absence, your eyebrows raising as you returned your gaze to the pot.

The sound of doors slamming echoed through out the other wise quiet mansion, the silence fulfilling you with some sort of ease. It didn’t take long for the final proxy to stumble into frame, his hand cupping his face. You weren’t forbidden from interacting with the mansions residents, your urge to help sweeping over you. Hoody was awkwardly stumbling, immediately leaning onto you for support as you helped him stay standing.

“I got it,” He huffed. His usual ski mask was half raised, the bottom half of his face revealed to you for the first time. His chin and upper lip had surprisingly clean cut facial hair, kept to a minimum. You guided him around the counter, helping him sit onto the kitchen counter by the sink. Hastily he shoved his yellow hood off of his head, yanking the ski mask off with it. You were surprised a normal human being stared back at you, a large gash sliced across his cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” You muttered. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, running it under cold water. “Didnt ask for your commentary doll,” Hoody said dryly. You swallowed, wringing out the excess water. You could’ve done what you did with Masky, handing him the washcloth and wishing him a silent farewell. But instead you didn’t. “Sorry,” You mumbled. You craved human contact, any kind of human contact. Brushing off your skirt you stepped in between his legs, leaning forward.

You were careful to avoid eye contact, focusing on dabbing the wound. Hoody silently winched under the feeling, inhaling through his teeth. As gently as you could you dabbed away the blood. “Do you want me to get EJ?” You asked. Hoody’s face was stone cold, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye anyways. “Dont bother, i’m sure he’s sick of patching us up all the time,” He grumbled. The wound didn’t look deep, just very long. Thankfully most of the blood was gone, the rest of his face covered in specs of dry blood (that you presumed to not be his) and dirt.

Turning on the sink you washed out the washcloth, the crimson paint drifting off down the drain with the water. You then returned to Hoody, wiping off his face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to be so compassionate, Hoody’s eyes fluttering shut. He took a deep breath, his shoulders seemingly relaxing. You were gentle of course, not wanting to piss the killer in front of you off. But even Hoody knew your action wasn’t callous.

Once you were done you awkwardly stepped aside, putting the rag in the sink. “You want a cig?” Hoody asked. He dug in his jeans, pulling out a beat up cigarette box. “Is this your way of showing gratitude?” You asked. The man in front of you smiled, extending you the box. “This right here is the only kind of buzz you’re getting around here doll,” He explained, allowing himself to half smile. You had never smoked a cigarette before, nor had you really planned on it. Not like it mattered now.

You put one to your lips like people did in movies, watching Hoody do the same. He pulled out a lighter, flicking it and igniting the end of his cigarette. You leaned forward, watching Hoody attempt to flick the lighter again. The flame refused to ignite, the sight of small sparks making him sigh. “Masky always takes the good lighters,” He muttered. He inhaled his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the right. You found the gesture of attempting to not violate you with smoke a little sweet.

“Well I appreciate the offer. I’ve never smoked a cigarette anyways,” You admit. Hoody shook his head. “That just won’t do then. Put it to your lips and stay still,” He ordered. You did as instructed, watching him lean closer to you. His fingers went under your chin, keeping your head held high. You felt your face beginning to burn, the end of his cigarette lighting yours as you inhaled. You both avoided each others gazes, until the second he began to back away.

For a brief moment you shared eye contact, searching each other’s eyes. For what? You didn’t know. You properly inhaled, coughing immediately. “You guys like this stuff?” You asked in between coughs, continuing to choke. Hoody nonchalantly took another drag of his, watching you struggle. “It’ll grow on you, trust me. I didn’t like it at first either,” He confessed. Once you regained strength in your lungs you properly stood up. Hoody remained seated on the kitchen counter, with you standing beside him.

“How long have you been here?” You asked curiously. You were stepping over a hundred boundaries, ones you could die for if you stepped over the line too far. “A while,” Hoody answered honestly. You took another drag of your cigarette, the taste of tobacco growing on you. “How long are you going to be here?” Hoody countered. You exhaled, glancing back at the proxy. He had exhaled through his nose, boldly making eye contact with you.

“A while.”

You found the courage to turn around, facing him fully. “You aren’t lonely?” You asked. Hoody gave you a smile, tossing the bud of his cigarette into the nearby trashcan. “I am, are you?” He asked curiously. You followed his lead, tossing the bud of the cigarette into the trashcan. If it set the kitchen on fire, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Yeah I am,” You admit. Hoody slid off of the counter, his tall height towering over you.

“Do you uh, wanna change that?” He asked. For a killer who had a victims blood splattered across his face moments ago, he seemed so awkward. You wondered how long it had been since he had been with a woman. How long would it be before you could be with a man again? “Please,” You sighed. Hoody kissed you just as rough as you expected, both of you melting into the other. Both of you were undeniably needy, touch depraved and lonely. You were sure this was forbidden for both of you but as his tongue slid into your mouth, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

“Call me Brian but only when it’s us, okay? Thats not who I am anymore but that’s who I want to be with you, okay?” Hoody asked. You nodded, the normal name bringing your comfort. Brian’s hand snaked down your waist, squeezing and kneading at the flesh of your ass. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound only making him harder. There was no telling how much longer you’d be around, the residents of the mansion unhinged enough to snap at any moment.

You couldn’t fully undress here and going upstairs was out of the question. “This has to be quick, we can’t get caught,” You whispered. Brian nodded, slipping his hand up your skirt. He rubbed against your wet cunt, your panties preventing any further stimulation. Brian had zero control over his life but he did right here, right now. You had no control over yours either, the decision to fuck each other to release steam the only free will decision either of you could make. You palmed him through his jeans, his cock practically busting through the fabric.

He guided you to the counter, grabbing the sides of your panties and yanking them down to your ankles. He shoved them into his pocket for what you thought to be safe temporary keeping. But Brian had other ideas.

“Fuck, please, wanna feel you Brian,” You whispered, trying hard to not groan loudly. Brian quickly undid his belt bringing his lips back to yours. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone, your soft lips driving him mad. It wasn’t long before his cock was at your entrance, awkwardly shuffling with his jeans at his ankles. He fell a bit backwards, causing you to laugh. “Fucking hell, sorry-” He began apologizing. You giggled, hopping off of the counter.

You brought him fully to the ground, pushing his back against the oven. “This might work better,” You replied, lowering yourself down onto his cock. Brian’s cock felt like heaven, your mouth falling open. Both of you let out a sigh of relief. You had no way to masturbate, no way to possibly release the stressful tension building inside of you. As you pressed your forehead against Brian’s, you realized that this was what you got. This was your outlet.

Brian’s gloved hands met your waist, helping you roll your hips. You let out a loud groan, one of his hands flying to your mouth. “Shh, you can’t make any noise,” Brian warned, your inability to stay composed only making him more hot and bothered. He took control, guiding your hips to ride him at a pace that worked for both of you. You were as wet as a virgin, your body yearning for more as Brian abused your g spot. Your sinful moans were muffled by his gloved hand, his other attempting to guide you.

He brought himself close to your ear. “If you wanna get off, you’re gonna have to ride me by yourself mkay? Do that and i’ll play with that pretty clit of yours doll,” He huffed, trying to control his own noises. You nodded yes profusely, trying to concentrate on grinding your hips against his. With his spare hand he found your clit, drawing sloppy circles around it. For a brief moment he was worried about his ‘skills’ not having slept with a woman in years. Whether he was good or bad at it, you didn’t appear to give a shit. You were still a panting mess, your hair sticking to your forehead from sweat.

Your walls clenched tighter around Brian as you felt yourself closer to euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut. With your forehead pressed to his you pawed at his hoodie, grabbing handfuls as your orgasm washed over you. Your sinful noises were muted by Brian’s hand, the muffled sounds music to his ears that he had made you feel that good. Your walls fluttering around him triggered his own orgasm, his cum flooding inside of you. He dropped his hand from your mouth, both of you taking a moment to breathe.

In a moment of true loneliness you leaned against Brian’s shoulder, ignoring the faint smell of dried blood and sweat. Unsurely Brian stroked your hair, trying to remember if that was comforting or not. He licked his dry lips, a bold question on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna share a cigarette again tomorrow?”

[ghostlyferrettarot]

✨️🫧📀The 12th House in the

Signs📀🫧✨️

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

📀If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!📀

🫧Masterlist🫧

🫧It is considered a house of introspection, subconscious and ending cycles. This house is associated with the sign of Pisces and is considered the most spiritual and mystical of all astrological houses🫧

📀Aries in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own spirituality and do things your way. They may feel the need to distance themselves from the world and seek their own direction. They use much of their energy to confront their inner struggles, to which they never give up. In some cases you may be on the verge of losing the battle, but your perseverance will ensure that in the end you will be able to overcome your intimate problems.

📀Taurus in the 12th House: may indicate a need for connection with nature and the need for emotional security. They can be very intuitive and feel most comfortable in a calm and relaxed environment. They long for security. They like to have everything under control regarding their lives and that unforeseen events do not occur that alter their daily lives. Taurus natives in the 12th house are happy and self-confident and are willing to work hard so that they lack for nothing. .

📀Gemini in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own truth and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very imaginative and creative. They relate more to their spirituality, some seek time for seclusion, introspection, and reflection. Individuals have difficulty learning rigorously, mechanically, but they still acquire knowledge by paying attention, capturing the deeper messages.

📀Cancer in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find a spiritual home and connect with your family and your past. They can be very intuitive and sensitive, and may feel the need to work through their emotional problems through therapy and meditation. Their projects are linked to the affectivity they receive in the environments they frequent, it being important that these do not clash. with his own emotionality.

📀Leo in the 12th House: may indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with your creative and artistic side. They can be very creative and passionate, and may feel the need to work on their self-esteem and confidence. allows you to act with great independence. Enjoy being alone, reflecting calmly. He lacks that fear of loneliness that terrifies many people. For Leo it is more of a blessing. He knows how to fill space and time without needing to turn to anyone else.

📀Virgo in the 12th House: May indicate a need to work on your own personal development and connect with your spiritual side. They can be very analytical and perfectionist. Being interested in even the smallest detail in each project or action they undertake is a typical trait of Virgo in the 12th house. However, although at first glance it can be considered something effective and advisable, the truth is which can also have its dark side. Of course, as long as it is taken to the extreme.

📀Libra in the 12th House: May indicate a need for balance and harmony in your spiritual life. They can be very intuitive and balanced. They want to have tranquility and peace in their lives, it is a period of retreat and without much social interaction. They have a sense of justice and a desire for equality that is not manifested very visibly in their environments. Furthermore, when Libra is in the 12th house, the fantasies and dreams of the natives are awakened.

📀Scorpio in the 12th House: May indicate a need to work through your emotional issues and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very intuitive and sensitive, and may feel the need to work through their emotional problems through therapy and meditation. They are strongly drawn to mysteries. Everything that is hidden before the eyes of ordinary mortals is most interesting to them. They do not hesitate to immerse themselves in the enigmas they encounter, eagerly trying to reveal what they hide.

📀 Sagittarius in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with nature and the subconscious world. They can be very adventurous. Sagittarius natives in this house go through times when their religious beliefs are shaken. They discover that there are other points of view from which to see life in a different way. Sometimes open-mindedness will come from the recommendations of the most unexpected people. But they know that they must always be attentive to be able to listen, think about what they have learned and act later.

📀Capricorn in the 12th House: May indicate a need to find your purpose in life and connect with your spiritual side. They can be very disciplined and ambitious. The conception of Spirituality of individuals in this phase can be confused with social justice, with the existence of opportunities for everyone to have a dignified life. However, they are more driven by values of the practical life, to the satisfaction of the needs of employment, home, decent conditions for the development of the family, rather than with realities transcending the material world.

📀Aquarius in the 12th House: may indicate a need to find your own spirituality and connect with the subconscious world. They can be very innovative and creative. In this positioning, people can fulfill themselves through humanitarian activities of a spiritual nature. The concepts of harmony and wisdom develop. They feel a universal responsibility that involves spirituality, compassion and humility.

📀Pisces in the 12th House: May indicate a natural connection to the subconscious world and a need to explore your own spirituality. They can be very sensitive and empathetic. They are a compassionate person, although they do not usually show it externally. You have to dive a little inside yourself to discover someone who does care about others and always tries to do as little damage as possible in their discussions. You must let yourself be carried away by your sensitivity to know the different options through which you can channel your creativity.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with another Merlin au idea! This story was actually supposed to be a part of my fic "What to do When an Eldritch God Decides That You're Friend-Shaped", but I decided that this idea didn't really mesh well with the rest of that fic and would probably be better off as its own separate story.

And I will say, in my opinion, that this is probably one of my best au ideas yet. I had so much fun just writing this! Also, heads up, this post is going to be very long because I really love this idea! So, I hope you all enjoy! :D

In this au, which is set post-Camlann, Morgana wasn't able to take Merlin's magic away before the battle, so Merlin was able to save Arthur and defeat both Mordred and Morgana without revealing his magic. He was also able to prevent Gwaine's death since he kept Morgana preoccupied in the battle. So, Camelot is saved, and everything is great!

Except, Arthur has some questions. He knows from Morgana's furious screams during the battle that she was killed by a sorcerer named "Emrys", but Arthur never saw him. And Arthur recognized that name from when Morgana taunted him years ago by saying "Not even Emrys can save you now."

Arthur knows that he owes his kingdom and perhaps his life to this Emrys guy, but he knows nothing about him other than that he's a very powerful sorcerer, more powerful than Morgana. This frightens Arthur, as he doesn't know what Emrys wants or why he helps Arthur. For all Arthur knows, Emrys could be just biding his time to take over Camelot and was simply doing away with his competition by killing Morgana.

After things calmed down after the battle of Camlann, Arthur decides that he needs more information on Emrys. Who he is, what are his motives, how can they find him, and a million other details that Arthur needs to ensure his people's safety. He first goes to Gaius for information, but Gaius can tells him that, according to the myths of the Old Religion, Emrys is the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth and is held in high regard by the druids.

Gaius's answer only heightens Arthur's alarm, as the prospect of having to fight to most powerful sorcerer ever is terrifying to him. However, he still doesn't have any good information on Emrys, so he goes to the next best source: the druids.

Thanks to Arthur making peace with the druids after promising the ghost of the young druid boy and permitting them to use their magic for peaceful purposes only, there were a couple druid camps not far from Camelot. Arthur picked the closer one and took a day to travel there alongside Merlin and a few knights in the hopes of finally getting some answers.

When they arrive at the camp, they're met with worried glances and panicked faces, but the druid elders welcome them into the camp nonetheless, offering them all a seat by their campfire and warm meal. Once they got settled and Arthur exchanged some pleasantries with Iseldir, the druid chieftain, Arthur was finally able to ask what had been plaguing him for weeks.

"Iseldir, I know that your people hold a sorcerer named Emrys in high regard, and it's come to my attention that he was responsible for Morgana's defeat at Camlann and possibly on other occasions. Please, I need to know more about him and why he's chosen to help me."

Several people froze and tensed at Arthur's questions, including Merlin. Arthur sighed internally at Merlin's usual panic. He knew that Merlin could become easily scared in the face of magic, so he should have knows that his friend wouldn't approve of Arthur actively seeking out a dangerous sorcerer.

After a short, tense pause, Iseldir clears his throat and responds.

"I'd be happy to answer some of your questions about the god of magic!"

Wait, did Arthur hear that correctly? God of magic?! Arthur, in his shock, blurted out,

"Emrys is a god?! I had heard that he was a powerful sorcerer, not some deity!"

Iseldir chuckled a bit before responding,

"Emrys is indeed the god of magic in the Old Religion, the son of the Triple Goddess herself! He is not simply the master of magic, but rather magic itself, its very incarnation!"

That... was a rather frightening prospect, and it confused Arthur even further. Why would magic itself fight against Morgana? Why take Arthur's side? And, perhaps more importantly, was Arthur going to have to fight a god in order to protect his kingdom?!

Iseldir continued before Arthur's hysterical thought could bubble up to the surface.

"As I said, I'm happy to answer your questions, but please know that there are some secrets that Emrys has entrusted our people with that we cannot divulge, and there are some truths that might be... difficult for you in particular."

Arthur frowned at Iseldir's answer, unsure of what to make of it.

"What do you mean it might be difficult for me in particular?"

Iseldir winced a bit, grimacing like he didn't know how to respond without warranting a negative response.

"Well, there are some elements of Emrys's story that intertwine with your own life in some ways that you might not expect or be ready to hear at this point. Your life and Emrys's are highly connected, King Arthur, even if you don't know the extent of it yet."

Arthur's eyes widened at this admission. His life was connected to this mysterious god of the old religion? How could that possibly be true? He had didn't even know that Emrys was a god until a few moments ago! However, as curious as he was about what Iseldir could be talking about, he had more pressing matters at hand.

"We can discuss how I am connected to Emrys later. For now, I need answers to more important questions. Why does Emrys help Camelot? What is he hoping to get out of it?"

Iseldir looked much happier to answer this question, speaking calmly with a serene smile on his face.

"Emrys had many reasons to stand against the witch. She frequently hunted down and killed more peaceful magic users who did not share her taste for vengeance and bloodshed, including our fellow druids and even the Catha, a small sect of priests of the Old Religion that followed Emrys's will. Emrys fought against Morgana to protect these followers of his from her wrath."

Arthur nodded at Iseldir's explanation. As odd as it felt to have something in common with a god of the Old Religion, he could understand very well the drive to protect his own people. If Emrys's people were also in danger because of Morgana, it made sense for him to join forces with Arthur, even if Arthur was unaware of that alliance. Seeing Arthur's understanding, Iseldir continued with his explanation.

"Emrys also fought against Morgana in order to punish her for her hubris and use of dark magic. There are certain dark arts that take the power that Emrys grants us and twist it into a horrible force, bound only by the will of its user. Such arts are expressly forbidden by Emrys, and he cannot control what sorcerers do with such magic after its been corrupted so thoroughly. Morgana frequently used such forbidden arts and claimed the title of high priestess while ignoring the will of the gods, even the one that she drew her power from. Emrys is normally slow to anger, but for such transgressions, he became furious with Morgana and sought to punish her for treason against magic itself."

Arthur understood that a little bit less, but he could also relate to Emrys's reasoning as a king who had also had to punish some of his own citizens for treason.

"I can see that Emrys stood opposed to Morgana, but does Camelot have anything to fear from him? I can understand why he might not be very forgiving towards us considering my father's actions during his reign."

To Arthur's immense relief, Iseldir shook his head slightly before providing an explanation.

"No, Camelot has nothing to fear from Emrys. He knows that not everyone in Camelot agreed with your father's actions, and he can see progress that you've made since the end of your father's reign. In fact, Emrys has assisted Camelot many times even when Morgana wasn't involved!"

Arthur reeled backwards in shock at Iseldir words. The god of magic, helping Camelot freely? Despite everything his father had done?! Iseldir's explanation forced Arthur to re-evaluate what he knew of the Old Religion.

He had always seen the Old Religion and its gods as monstrous and barbaric. However, that wasn't the case, was it? Emrys had saved the kingdom that sought to destroy him. The Disir had shown Mordred mercy, even though Arthur had rejected their offer. The White Goddess had restored Guinevere's soul at the Cauldron of Arianrhod and healed her of Morgana's curse. Were all of the gods and goddesses of the Old Religion so benevolent and kind? Had Arthur misunderstood the Old Religion for his entire life?

However, Arthur was still shocked at Emrys in particular choosing to help Camelot, supposedly with no ulterior motives besides a common enemy in Morgana. That was how Camelot had survived against such odds? How could it be that magic itself was on their side?!

As Arthur looked at Iseldir again however, he noticed that the druid chieftain's face had pulled into a grimace again. Arthur certainly knew that look, he had seen it on the faces of his council members frequently.

"There's something that you aren't telling me, isn't there? I know that there are some things that you may be hesitant to divulge, but please, I must know everything I can about Emrys, for the safety of my kingdom."

Iseldir paused again, sighing deeply. He sat still for a moment, as if pondering how to proceed.

"Truthfully, there is another reason why Emrys assisted you, but it involves what I spoke of earlier, wen I said that your life and Emrys's are connected in ways that you may not expect. I am willing to tell you such things, but these truths might be hard for you to hear."

Arthur leaned forward, his curiosity piqued again.

"I have learned many uncomfortable truths about my own life through the years, so I will ask you: how could my life be connected to the god of magic?"

Iseldir nodded at Arthur's words and began speaking with a serious, nearly grim, voice.

"I assume that you are familiar with how life is exchanged in the practice of the Old Religion? For any life give, a life must be taken."

Arthur flinched backwards at Iseldir's words, already recognizing what topic was about to be brought up. He had come to terms with the truth of his birth years ago, but hearing it again didn't make it any easier. Blinking back tears, Arthur responded.

"Yes, I... I know. I'm aware that my father made a deal with the priestess Nimueh to secure an heir, and I know that my mother was the one who paid the price in the end."

Arthur heard quiet gasps coming from the knights around him, while Merlin silently put a comforting hand on Arthur's shoulder. Iseldir, after a moment, continued with his explanation.

"You are correct in your understanding, however, there is one part of the story that you are unaware of."

Arthur jolted in shock at Iseldir's words. There was more to the story of his birth? Frantically, Arthur started asking questions.

"What do you mean? What haven't I been told?"

Iseldir patiently and softly answered Arthur's questions, trying to soften the crushing revelation that he was about to tell Arthur.

"The balance of life and death is at the very core of the Old Religion. However, it is not the power of creation. The power over life and death was used by the high priestesses to resurrect and bring life to someone who has already passed. To magically create a new life, a new soul, from nothing is an act of creation, something that takes far more power than manipulating the balance of life and death. An act of creation takes the power of a god."

"I... I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?"

"I am sorry that you had to find out this way, King Arthur. But in order to successfully ensure that your mother and father had an heir, Nimueh called upon the power of her patron god: Emrys."

This time, it was Arthur was gasped in shock at this information, hysteria rising in him once again.

"Are you telling me that Emrys was responsible for my very creation?! That it was his power that created me?!"

"More than that, I'm afraid. To create your soul, Emrys did more than just weave his own power into a life. He cut out a shard of his own soul and breathed life into it, thus creating you. While we don't know his reasons for doing so, Emrys created you from a part of his own being."

Arthur felt like his breath had just been punched out of him. What... what did this mean?!

Iseldir must have seen his panic, and further clarified.

"In the eyes of the gods, this made Emrys your true creator and, in the eyes of the magical world, your father."

At those words, Arthur stopped breathing entirely. Unbeknownst to Iseldir, who kept going with his explanation, Arthur entire worldview was collapsing in on itself.

Magic itself was his father?! What did that even mean?!

And oh god was he even a Pendragon? Did he even have a legitimate claim to the throne of Camelot?!

Arthur's panic was so strong that he could barely feel how Merlin's supportive hand on his shoulder was now clenching hard enough to bruise.

(Meanwhile, inside Merlin's panicking mind: WTF??! Oh shit I owed HOW MUCH to Uther Pendragon in child support?! Am I a deadbeat dad to my own best friend??)

"This is why you triumphed over any foe, magical or otherwise. Emrys forbade any magic from truly harming you, and he rose to protect you when you needed him. He will always fight by your side, as you are, in many ways, a part of him."

Iseldir paused, now noticing Arthur's hyperventilating.

"I assume that you have many questions following this news. Please, feel free to ask anything, there's no need to be scared by this!"

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to keep from laugh hysterically. No need to be scared?! His entire life had just been turned on its head!

"If... if Emrys is my true father, what about Uther? Do I even have a claim to my throne?"

"Ah, there's no need to worried about that. While Emrys might be your father in terms of your soul, Uther is still your father in terms of blood. Do not fret, King Arthur, you are still of Pendragon blood and have every rightful claim to your throne."

Arthur calmed down a bit at Iseldir's words, breathing much easier now. This explained so many things about Arthur's life, how he had survived in situations that he by all means shouldn't have. Still, he had many questions for Iseldir.

"If I am truly the son of magic itself, am I even human, or am I some sort of demigod?"

At this question, Iseldir shook his head.

"That, I truly do not know. I'm sorry, but I don't think anyone knows the answer to that question except for Emrys himself."

Finally, an idea occurred to Arthur. He stiffened as he blurted out,

"Can I speak with him then? Is there any way to summon him?"

As soon as the idea took root in Arthur's mind, he couldn't get it out. Emrys had to have been looking out for Arthur for many years now, using his power to protect him. This notion of having a secret father who had been caring for him for years almost felt like having a second chance.

Arthur never had the relationship with Uther that he wanted. There was no affection, no bonding, and no comfort to be found there. Only expectations and demands.

But Emrys had apparently been helping Arthur for years with no expectations and no demands. Arthur had fantasized as a young boy about what it would have been like to have a kind, caring father, the kind he saw doting on their children in the marketplace. Now, it almost seemed like he had another chance of having a father, one who truly cared about him!

So naturally, Arthur wanted to meet him! Both the druids and the knights look slightly confused at Arthur's excited outburst about wanting to meet Emrys, but the druids tell him that they have everything that they need to perform a summoning ritual, but they'd need some time to set it up.

Arthur asks if they can set it up for him, and they nod and walk away to begin preparations. Meanwhile, Merlin and the knights ask Arthur if he's just lost his mind. They know that this must be shocking for him, but does he need to summon a god?!

Merlin shows the most vocal opposition to Arthur's plan, saying that they still don't even know if they can trust Emrys. All they have to go on is the word of the druids, and they seem pretty biased in Emrys's favor.

Arthur smiles and tells Merlin that he appreciates his protectiveness, but this is something that Arthur needs to do. He needs this closure, this chance to connect with his last living parent.

Arthur does take Merlin's concerns into consideration though, and orders for his men to leave the camp and take Merlin with them, so they're far away and protected if Emrys turns out to be untrustworthy.

(As the knights drag a struggling Merlin away, Merlin is frantically talking with Iseldir in his mind about what the summoning ritual entails and what it looks like. If he magically pops up next to Arthur right as Arthur does a ritual to summon Emrys, even Arthur would be able to put two and two together!

Luckily, Iseldir informs him that the summoning ritual will summon his soul, not his body, and Arthur wouldn't be able to recognize him. Still, Merlin tried to talk the druids out of the ritual, because Merlin doesn't want his soul to get yanked out of his body! But there was little that the druids could do with Arthur insisting on the ritual.)

After preparing the materials for the ritual, the druids take Arthur back into a tent to get him ready. Arthur's heart pounded in his chest with both excitement and fear as the druids walked him through what he had to do.

First, they gave him some plain but comfortable robes to change in to. They explained that Emrys preferred his followers to come to him in the garments of peace, not war, so his armor, chainmail, and weapons would have to be left in the tent.

After changing into the robes, Arthur felt strangely both vulnerable and comforted. As the druids rubbed some flowery smelling oil into his arms and then led him to a small wooden altar, Arthur couldn't help comparing this experience to approaching Uther.

Whenever he was meeting with his father, Arthur was expected to show no weakness, no flaws. He had to look the part of the warrior prince, trained since birth and hardened by battle. However, here with Emrys, Arthur was dressed in comfortable clothes and told to simply ask for Emrys's presence before the altar. He didn't need a sacrifice or penance or any sort of challenge to summon Emrys. All that the druids told him was to "call for him, and Emrys will answer."

Placing one hand gently on the wooden surface of the intricately carved altar, Arthur cleared his throat wetly before saying aloud to the empty space in front of him,

"Emrys, I'm... I'm not sure if you're here, but I'm your- your son, Arthur. You probably know me already, though, since you've been helping me and protecting me for a long time now. I- I wanted to thank you for your help. So, I would appreciate it if you could appear, so I could meet you and thank you in person."

There, Arthur thought that was a pretty good introduction! This was his first time meeting his new father, so he needed to make a good first impression!

Arthur stood, awkwardly shifting on his feet as he tried to push down his disappointment with each passing moment that Emrys did not appear. Maybe Arthur did it wrong? Maybe Emrys hadn't heard him? Or maybe Emrys had heard him, but was disappointed in Arthur and deemed him a weak son, just like Uther had?

As Arthur tried to swallow down his hurt, suddenly, there was a bright flash of light above the altar. It was so bright that Arthur had to throw his hand in front of his eyes and turn away, but his heart leapt at the sight.

Was this it?! Was he about to meet his creator and have another chance at having a father?

As soon as he could, Arthur lowered his hand and opened his eyes, anxiously awaiting his first glimpse at Emrys! As the light died down, Arthur was able to make out the outline of something...

As the light slowly dwindled, Arthur could see a bright, glowing ball of golden light, very similar to the one that had saved him from that cave so many years ago, floating above the altar. His eyes widened as he realized what, or more likely who, this light must be.

Emrys was a god after all, Arthur really shouldn't have assumed that he'd look like a human. The god of magic taking a human form, what a crazy idea!

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Arthur called out to the light.

"Emrys? Is that you?"

At his words, the light floated down from the altar until it was hovering right in front of Arthur, an arm's reach away. Arthur fought the urge to reach out and touch the light, just to see if it was real and not just a product of his own wishful thinking.

After a couple seconds, the ball of light flashed, and Arthur heard what sounded like multiple voices coming from it, speaking in unison.

"Hello Arthur. I'm so glad to finally be able to meet you. I am Emrys."

(Elsewhere, Merlin mentally patted himself on the back for making his soul-self sound sufficiently inhuman and speak in a manner that was completely unlike his usual self. Arthur couldn't possibly figure his identity out now!)

Arthur let out a sound that was something between a joyful laugh and a sob. Emrys actually came! Clearing his throat, Arthur tried to calm down his excitement and nerves and put on his best diplomat voice. He needed to start off strong here!

"I'm glad that we could meet as well. It's come to my attention that I have many things to thank you for, including Camelot's victory over Morgana in our latest battle. You might have saved all of Camelot, and I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Emrys silently floated in place for a moment, making Arthur sweat with nervousness. Had he already blown his one chance of having a caring parent?

Finally, Emrys's... orb body (what else was Arthur supposed to call it?!) glowed again and spoke with his multiple voices overlapping in harmony.

"You do not owe me anything, Arthur. There are no debts between us. We are family, tied together by our very souls. You never have to feel indebted to me for protecting you and Camelot. I do it not for a reward or recognition, but because I care for you."

Arthur's eyes misted over as he took in Emrys's words. How many times had he wished to hear anything like that from Uther? How many nights had he lied awake wondering what unconditional love from a parent would feel like?

As tears started silently rolling down Arthur's face, Emrys drifted closer to him. Arthur was startled by this move and didn't really know how to respond. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands to ball of light, unsure of what to do.

Slowly, the light moved towards Arthur's outreached hands. Arthur almost expected to flinch back upon contact, but instead, when his hands finally touched the ball of light itself, he was only met with a warm, comforting sensation, and he instantly relaxed and leaned into it. The only thing he could compare it to were those warm hugs that Merlin gave him whenever he felt down, which he would never admit to Merlin that he enjoyed.

Arthur gently guided the light closer, until he was hugging it against his chest and that wonderful warm fuzzy feeling was spreading through his entire body. Arthur wondered if this counted as getting a hug from his father, and then immediately decided that the answer was yes. And his new father apparently gave very good hugs.

Arthur stayed with Emrys for several more minutes, until the sun was setting. From there, Emrys told him that he had spent too much time in the mortal realm and couldn't hold his form for much longer without taking time to rest. Panicking, Arthur asked if he would be able to see Emrys again, he couldn't lose his new father so soon after meeting him!

Emrys reassured him that they'd see each other again soon and that he'd be by Arthur's side the whole time, even if Arthur couldn't see him. Comforted by this news, Arthur bid his new father farewell, and the ball of light slowly dissipated.

Arthur then returned to Merlin and his knights, who had a million questions for Arthur. Arthur answered their burning questions as best he could, and they were relieved to see that Arthur was safe and not scarred by the experience of talking to the god of magic.

The next day, they returned to Camelot, and Arthur soon realized that even if he couldn't see Emrys himself, he could certainly the effects that Emrys had on the world around him.

Arthur never fell sick, his rooms were never too hot or too cold, his muscles were never sore from training, his attackers that snuck into the castle never managed to land a hit on him, his kingdom's crops prospered, and a million other things went right in Arthur's life, and for the very first time, Arthur understood.

Magic loved him. And, more importantly, his father loved him.

And it didn't escape other people's notice either. He had told the knights that he had brought with him to the druid camp to not discuss the revelation of his relationship to Emrys, but one knight got drunk at the tavern and told his friend, and someone overheard, and now everyone in the kingdom had heard the news that King Arthur was apparently the son of a god.

The fact that Arthur had secretly prayed for Emrys's help when Gaius reported about a deadly plague in the lower town, only for Emrys to immediately appear again as a ball of light in the middle of a council meeting in front of dozens of witnesses didn't help Arthur keep it a secret either.

(Meanwhile, Merlin hears all of Arthur's prayers for Emrys. He's able to take care of most of Arthur's concerns just as Merlin, but a very powerful/emotional prayer from Arthur actually summons him in his "Emrys" form, leading to some awkward moments, but he makes it work for Arthur's sake.)

On the bright side of Arthur's heritage being revealed, other kingdoms were now much more open to peaceful negotiations and trade deals.

And on one occasion where a very foolish king tried to declare war on Arthur, the enemy king's army only made it a hundred yards of Camelot's forces before the earth itself broke open into a wide chasm that started swallowing the leaders of the enemy army whole. No one was stupid enough to attempt an attack on Camelot after that.

Life goes on like this for about a year, until Arthur catches Merlin using magic for some mundane purpose. Arthur is shocked of course, but magic has been legal for a while now. When he questions Merlin on where he learned magic from, Merlin stammers and says "Well... uh, Emrys..."

Arthur cut Merlin off, yelling because apparently his father was teaching Merlin magic behind his back?! What was that about!

Merlin then decides to take this misunderstanding and roll with it, because there's no way in hell that he's looking Arthur in the eyes and telling him that he's actually Arthur's magical father.

Merlin spins a story about how Emrys had been slowly teaching Merlin magic so Merlin could help Arthur out and always have someone nearby with magic to protect him! Arthur accepts this story, but is secretly a little bit jealous. How come Emrys chose to teach Merlin magic and not his own son?

After Arthur asks Emrys about this, Emrys apologizes to Arthur, saying that he didn't know if Arthur would be interested. He then starts trying to teach Arthur magic (to pretty much no success). To further apologize to Arthur, Emrys gives him a gift! Emrys had apparently heard about how Uther had forbidden Arthur from having a pet as a child despite Arthur begging for one, so Emrys decided to remedy this by giving Arthur a baby dragon to take care of and to train to protect Camelot.

Everyone else is alarmed by this, but Arthur is almost moved to tears because he loves the little dragon so much already!

And this au is already wayyyy too long, so I'll cut it off there! I'm tempted to call this the "Arthur gets catfished into a healthy parental relationship" au lol!

I hope you all enjoyed this au! Sorry about it being longer than usual, but I had a lot that I wanted to write about this au idea! And if you want to see even more of this au, feel free to let me know if you'd like a continuation!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my (very long) ramblings! :D

[hina-hina]

Perhaps when you’re ready can you write a Ghost and Soft!Reader and their child?😭❤️ I love your writing by the way!❤️❤️

Hello friend!! This is such a cute idea to go along with the soft!Reader series!! I'm so happy with how well received that post is and I'm loving everyones comments and ideas (ﾉ*ФωФ)ﾉ Hope you enjoy this one, thank you for requesting and I'm glad you like my writing!! (I put aside my final paper for class so I could post this today o_o)

I guess this is kinda a series now so chronologically it goes Soft!Reader post, Ghost getting secretly married post, then this one!

|| Ghost and Soft!Reader with a Child ||

Warnings: cursing, labor mentions, some angst

Ghost had been on deployment when you found out you were pregnant

You were shocked an unsure of how Ghost was going to react when he found out

but also really excited

Despite the two of you doing video calls whenever he could, you kept it a secret until he got back from deployment

You put the pregnancy test in a small gift box and wait for him to arrive

You are filled with anxiety all day, worried about what his reaction would be

When he comes in, you can already tell he is extremely tired so you don't want to bombard him immediately

So you hug him when he comes through the door, pull up his balaclava, and give him a few soft kisses

He immediately relaxes, happy to be home

You instruct him to go take a shower and he goes without fuss

When he comes back out in a simple black t-shirt and sweats, his wedding band still attached to its chain hanging from his neck, you feel your heart skip a beat

"Sit down," You instruct

"Awful bossy this evening, aye?" He teases, but does it anyway, small smile on his maskless face

"Hush!"

You present the small box to him, biting your lower lip nervously

He raises an eyebrow, large hands coming up over the box as he shifts his eyes between it and you

He opens it gently, staring at the small device for a moment before his eyes widen

"Your...."

Sets the box aside and immediately stands

"Your being serious?"

You simply nod and his eyes shift down to your stomach before he grabs you into a hug

He would be scared and distant at first, he would need time to process

I do think he would be good with kids

Once you two talk it out, he would become completely on board

Ghost is a girl dad, fight me

Would be so nervous when he goes to appointments with you

He Is so used to the good things in his life being taken away,

When he learns its a girl, he becomes slightly uneasy

He's not sure how he's gonna be with a kid period but knowing its a girl? He is terrified

Nonetheless, he finds himself buying things that he thinks you would like for the baby anyway

would hate it if he had to go back onto deployment before the baby is born

You reassure him you'll be fine and he reassures you he will be back for the birth

An ultrasound picture is placed alongside the picture of you in his breast pocket

Eventually tells his team he's going to have a baby and they are in shock, even more so than before

Imagine you go into labor early and he almost misses it

He shows up still in uniform (minus the weapons bc there isn't anyway he is getting into a hospital with all that on) and black grease paint still smudged around his eyes

But, damnit, he's there

Is scared shitless during labor

He doesn't want anything to happen to either of you

But you deliver the baby and it's handed to him and she looks so small in his hands o(*////▽////*)q

Tears fill his eyes and he feels his cold heart thaw a little more

He gets leave for a little while to take care of you and the baby

He doesn't want to leave you two but you reassure him that you know his work is important

You make him promise to always come back to the two of you

The little girl grows up looking up to Ghost a lot and he feels he doesn't deserve it but loves it anyway

Whenever he comes back, he wants to spend as much time with the two of you as possible

He sends her letters that you read to her before bed

She helps you make care package and includes her drawings

A third picture is put into the pocket, one with all three of you

He brags about all of his daughters accomplishments to his teammates

Imagine one day he decides to surprise her at school when he comes back home

So after you drop her off, you go and pick Ghost up

The two of you go to her school and the teacher sends her to the principal's office

Ghost is waiting there with you, uneasy about being around so many people but when he sees his little girl? He is GONE

She comes in and immediately brights, running to her dad

Immediately drops to his knees to hug her when she comes running at him

Hugs her so close, then stands and goes over and grabs you too

He has never been this happy to be home

[actuallysaiyan]

for the love of god can the people please get a cockwarming small might req, possibly where it started as just a way to recover if his injury flared during ur usual sex but now hes just into it on its own? i will bow and scrape until my goddam back breaks🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 just started an unbelievably boring job and thinking abt your all might posts are giving me life thru these 8 hour shifts like truly thank you from the shareholders at yagi thirst incorporated

warnings: smut, suggestive themes, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, Small Might form, slight nipple play word count: 0.7k pairings: Toshinori Yagi/Small Might x Fem!Reader summary: Toshinori takes a long time to be comfortable to make love to you, and yet you drive him crazy. one night he gets a cramp and he can't quite perform, but he finds himself so excited and happy to be so close to you. a/n: Thank you soooo much for this one! I really hope you enjoy and thank you for enjoying my thirst for All Might!

He knew he’d never be the same man as before, but you were falling in love with him despite his differences. Even if he was thinking that he wasn’t worthy of love, you were right there to show him that he was wrong. Slowly, you began to make him feel alive again. Toshinori Yagi could proudly say that he wanted to live.

Sex was a whole other thing. It was slow. He would always pull away whenever your make out sessions got a little too heavy. He was always willing to bring you pleasure, but never would he allow you to do it to him. Not only did the thought of you seeing his scar terrify him, but also you knowing he didn’t have the same stamina as before just made him feel even more insecure.

It all started one night when he finally decided to make love to you. He spends a long time focused on you and your pleasure, but he makes it known that he’s going to make love to you. And the first time you make love, it’s romantic and loving and it hits all the right spots. You find yourself dreaming about it for days to come.

Eventually, Toshinori also grows very addicted to the feeling. He loves being able to fuck you in the morning before he has to leave for work. At night whenever he’s feeling very needy and clingy, he fucks you really hard and deep. The man finds himself even more insatiable than he was when he was a young teenager. It’s like something snapped in his brain and you were stirring up his hormones quite a bit.

One night, he has you beneath him, pumping into you deeply. You two share such sweet kisses as he fucks you with precision. All of a sudden, he coughs up blood and he slows himself down. He feels like something is wrong. He looks down at you and you can see the hatred for himself in his eyes. He wants to just disappear and be swallowed up by the ground.

Then you reach up and gently wipe the blood away from his mouth with your fingers. “Toshi, are you okay?”

Just the gentleness of your motions and actions has him shuddering. He’s still inside of you, and still very hard. But his side hurts and the scar is throbbing for the first time in a long time. When you look up at him again, you see the worry on his face.

“Just…I’m sore, honey.”

You pull him in for a very tender kiss, not caring that there’s still blood on his lips. You hold onto him, allowing him to stay so deep inside of you as you rub his back and gently soothe him. Toshinori lays his head on your breasts, sighing happily. Just being connected to you like this makes him feel so safe, so loved and so happy.

The next time that you two make love, he offers to take you in the spooning position. He spreads your thighs, slipping into you from behind. Both of you moan as he bottoms out, and instead of him continuing a pace, he just settles behind you and wraps his arm around you.

“Just let me enjoy the feeling of you, honey.”

Your fingers intertwine as he presses kisses to your neck and your shoulder. Your walls flutter around his girth, causing him to grunt. The feeling of just resting while being deep inside of you makes him feel dizzy. It’s the greatest feeling to just be so connected to you like this. He can easily grab onto your hips and push deeper into you.

Then his hand slowly moves up to your sides, the fingertips are calloused and rough but feel so heavenly on your soft skin. You shudder and look at him over your shoulder. Toshinori has this beautiful look of love on his face as your gaze locks, despite the awkward position to look at him.

“My angel,” he murmurs softly as he leans in to press even more kisses to your neck. “I could never get tired of holding you so close like this.”

His fingers graze over your skin, making the hair on your body stand on end. Then he gently cups your breast, slowly rocking his hips. He tweaks your nipple, making you moan just for him. He can take it so slow for the both of you, and if things get a little too out of hand, he can easily just settle down, stop and stay buried deep inside of you.

You two have all night…and every night to be close to one another.

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2024– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

dividers: @adornedwithlight

[thatdeadaquarius]

GREETINGS! How are you doing? I've been practically gobbling up your posts (there very tasty)

Ok so hear me out- I've seen a couple posts like this but imagine-

The almighty all powerful wise creator isss

✨️A literal child✨️

Thanks for hearing me out! For you ->->❤️

Baby you taking on the world aw

DAMN SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER!! i started fics before i answered my askbox :/

Aw i fucking love child reader stuff,

Lots of isekai animes/manhwa/manga do it and i eat that shit up everytime-

I also deeply appreciate when its not done creepily, like being turned 8 again, and having crushes on others who are... yknow, actually 8 yrs old or sm fucked up shit, like even if its 16 yr olds that doesnt make it any better, bc the protag will actually be like,, actually 20?!?!💀 the straights r wild man, i feel like it happens either way too, like its usually a male MC but thats just bc theyre more common tbh, like regardless of gender of protag 🥲

☆

Sun: Child God Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short Headcanons

Stars: Mondstadt ppl bc i don't show them i love them enough

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: none known & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment any I missed. /gen

Klee has recruited converted you to throwing bombs with her.

You are the only leash on that child too and the only thing standing between Jean and full head of gray hair. 💀

Kaeya doesn’t know whether he’s endlessly worried or endlessly amused that the most powerful god is currently a child

if Jean isnt freaking out over ur whereabouts, Diluc is instead, and worst case scenario, Noelle/Lisa/Albedo is in charge of you

and YES someone has to look out for you, bc ur ass will just start making a hot springs spot like ur in ur teapot or smth in dragonspine (Albedo was fascinated it stayed warm despite the weather so he let you make it/enjoy it before asking u to restore natural order lol)

(Albedo has definitely asked to study you and, unfortunately for Jean, asked u to demonstrate several powers u have)

You do work as a lucky charm for Bennett tho so he does babysit u sometimes

it mostly consists of Fischl, Benny, and Razor “adventuring” by trying to do smth like who can jump on the Anemo slimes and ride them around longest

(the answer is you btw, u managed to get a small fleet of them to bus you around, the teens were simultaneously terrified running around below u to catch you and also amazed)

Noelle is so happy making toddler you all the pancakes you can eat, Sucrose had to stop her from going overboard and not just listening completely to kids when it comes to food

She is now very concerned with making you a balanced diet, tho she will still make u an ungodly tall stack of pancakes every now and then <3

They kind of all equally provide for you, obv ur their god, and ur a literal cutie patootie child, they cant just leave you

(also u might like move a mountain or change the weather or smth if they don't watch you so most are a little paranoid of that too)

Lisa gets u all kinds of cute outfits, still stuff you'd like, but definitely snuck in some sumeru looking clothing lol

Fischl lends you all kinds of books to read, Bennett shows u all the cool views in the city and outside of it (when Jean lets him get away with taking u that far), and Razor…

Razor brings you to Andrius and the wolf pack for a wolf pack party and gives u all kinds of shiny trinkets he’d collected for you

Diluc/Jean/Noelle/Eula nearly had a heart attack when they found out

Amber lets you have all the piggyback rides you want lol

she even managed with her own crafting powers (and your probably editing the game code or smth) she somehow makes a reinforced glider with a small harness on the back for you to glide with her

(Venti has definitely helped for some fun flights by boosting the winds for you two)

SPEAKING OF BARBATOS

ur absolutely spoiled rotten by him (and Dvalin, and Andrius, and the wind sprites)

if this god had money he’d spend it on wine and you lol

takes u flying all the time, any time, would drop everything to go to Mondstadt wilds and use his archon form wings to take you wherever you wanna go

tries to bring u to Angel’s Share but Diluc nearly hits him on the head with a wine bottle and brings you back home after kicking Venti out and giving you grape juice (yes you get all you want, within a healthy amount)

anyway the most important part abt you being a god and child is that you can now fulfill your childhood dreams of riding a dragon whenever you want

(one way to quickly get Mondstadt citizens to trust Dvalin again was just constantly seeing him flying overhead, occasionally seeing a small child on his back also helped lol)

(neither you nor Venti tell Jean you ride Dvalin and keep it an active secret from her.)

☆

srry i took so long! i hope u liked my hot mess of writing (i think its even sloppier than usual bc of all the fic writing full sentences lately)

and if not, I'm sorrryyy 😭😭

I'm focusing on getting thru a haul of asks before getting around to posting that Eldritch AU Part 2 if anyone reads this :)

hope u guys are have a great weekend, thanks for all the birthday wishes!! :D

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit

@kiyomi-uchiha777

[mostlysignssomeportents]

My McLuhan lecture on enshittification

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of the above.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thus tech workers themselves were the final bulwark against enshittification,

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

So what happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today's giants are not constrained by competition.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what about that fourth constraint: workers?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I get that this is all a little depressing

OK, really depressing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because she can't get anything done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been a minute.

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

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

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

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

Or that someone is making AI deepfake porn of you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Software doesn't eat the world, it enshittifies it

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

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

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

Well, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I think that's pretty important.

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

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

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[lucy90712]

Jude Bellingham with a bookworm reader going to the bookstore, like those videos on Tiktok where the boyfriends buy a bunch of books to their girlfriends 🥹

A/n: I had to post this today as it's my birthday and I got so many books so this seems fitting 

I woke up this morning to the feeling of kisses being pressed to my face and neck from Jude. I kept my eyes closed for a bit longer so he would keep kissing me but he caught on quickly that I was awake so I was made to open my eyes but I was rewarded for doing so with a kiss on my lips. He is usually quite affectionate but this morning he's being extra affectionate which I'm definitely not complaining about. Jude wasn't satisfied with just kisses though he wanted to cuddle so he moved my boom that was laying on my stomach from me falling asleep reading it and pulled me into his chest to cuddle. 

"Happy birthday my love" Jude said 

"Thank you" I said 

"I hope you're ready as I have a few surprises ready for you" he said 

"I'd like to think I'm ready but I never know with you there's always a chance that you will try and take me skydiving or something" I laughed 

"I promise I'm not going to do that you are going to love what I have planned" he said 

We cuddled in bed together for a while longer before he picked me up out of bed and carried me downstairs where he had set up balloons and banners which weren't there when we went to bed so he must've got up after I'd fallen asleep to do it all. There was also cards and presents sat on the table waiting for me some of which were clearly from my parents which he must've helped them send. Jude was still yet to put me down and he carried me to the spare room downstairs in his house which he didn't know what to with. Finally he put me down outside the door and made me close my eyes while he opened the door and lead me inside. I was a little scared as Jude's surprises can either be great or terrifying I always think about the time he surprised me with a giant spider he'd caught which freaked me out but he found so funny. 

He walked me inside and then allowed me to open my eyes which is when I saw what he'd done. The room which was completely empty now had book shelves across two of the walls and a comfortable chair with a lamp beside it. He'd made me a reading room because he knows how much I love reading. I read during every spare second in my life on my days off I read, before I got to bed I read even when a Jude takes me to his training sessions I spend most of the time reading. Books have always been my first love and I have so many of them but until now I had nowhere to put them so they are all in boxes hidden away in our garage. The fact that Jude had even thought about making this room a space for me to read in nearly made me tear up then he told me he built all the shelves himself whenever I wasn't home I couldn't stop a few tears leaving my eyes. 

"This is so amazing thank you so much" I said trying to hold back more tears 

"Its ok I'm glad you like it I realised that this house just feels like my home with my gym and all of the trophies and pictures hanging up so I wanted you to have your own space where you can do what you enjoy" Jude said 

"You're the best boyfriend ever I hope you know that" I said jumping into his arms to hug him 

We decided that later we would start organising my books onto the shelves but we didn't have time right now as Jude said he still has more surprises in store. First we had to get ready as he told me we are going to breakfast with some friends before we can do our next activity. Jude has really gone all out for my birthday this year which isn't necessary as all I really want is to spend the day together but he always promised me when we first got together when we were 17 that once he made it in football he'd spoil me and I guess this is him doing that. Last year we didn't get to spend my birthday together because we had conflicting schedules so Jude promised he'd make my next birthday perfect which he's doing a good job so far. 

Breakfast with our friends was really nice I haven't seen them in a while as Jude and I have been away so it was nice to catch up and they all gave me lovely gifts. We couldn't stay long as Jude insisted we had somewhere to be but he wouldn't tell me or even our friends where we were going. Once we were back in the car he made me close my eyes as he put in the address in case I knew where we were going and then again when we got closer I had to keep my eyes closed again so I couldn't see where we ended up. Jude even helped me out the car so nothing would be spoiled until he was ready for me to see. 

I heard the noise of a bell like the ones they have on the doors of smaller shops to signal that someone has come in which is exactly when I was allowed to have my sight back. Once my eyes adjust I realised that we were in a book store and not just any book store the one I always see on my way home from work but have never been into as I usually don't have time to stop. The entire place was empty which had me confused until Jude said that he had rented out the store for an hour so I could walk around and look at all the books with no one bothering me. I didn't need more encouragement than that to start walking down all the rows and rows filled with books to look at them all. 

I've never had a favourite genre or author I just love reading any book that sounds like it had an interesting storyline. Even though they say don't judge a book by its cover I definitely do as if I can see that a book as a cool cover I am more likely to pick it up and read the back. I picked up quite a few books off the shelves all of which were interesting and seemed like a good read but I was selective on the ones I kept hold of as I know if I let myself I'd just read everything in the whole store. I was so in my own world that I completely forgot that Jude was even there I spent my time looking at books and talking to myself about whether they seemed good or not. If I could live in a bookstore like this one I'd be happy forever and I suppose if Jude was here that would make it even better but even without him I'd be happy if I was surrounded by this many books. 

After I'd walked through the whole store I had five books in my arms which were the best books I found in the store. That was when I remembered that Jude was there and I turned around to find him as he could've left in the time that I was in my own world. He hadn't left though he was stood right behind me holding even more books that I’d picked up but ultimately put down. I looked at him confused but he just had a big smile on his face. 

"What are you doing?" I asked 

"I want you to fill up your little home library and I know you have a lot of books but you'll finish those books you've got in less than a month and I want you to still have something to look forward to reading at least until Christmas when I can top up your to read list again" he said 

"That's really sweet of you but I don’t need this many books plus it'll cost a lot of money" I said 

"Well it's a good thing I have the money to spend on them then but seriously don't worry about how much it costs I'm doing this as I want to spoil you you never spend money on yourself so please let me do this for you" he said 

"As long as you promise you won't do this all the time and it's just this once then I'll let you" I said 

"I promise now come on let's get all these books and head home to put them all on the shelves" Jude smiled 

I think Jude was so much more excited about putting together what he likes to call my mini library. As soon as we got back home he went and got all the boxes we've stored away while I got us some snacks and drinks to fuel us as we start what will be a long task. First I had to decide how I wanted to organise everything which was hard but in the end I decided to do it by author as I'll be able to keep better track of where everything is that way. I got all the books together and Jude put them up on the shelves for me which was the easy part of the job as I spent more time telling him about the storyline of some of the books I'd forgotten about but loved so much. Jude has never been a reader but he still listens to me whenever I'm telling him about whatever book I'm reading and he makes an effort to always ask me about my current read which really means a lot to me as it shows he understands that reading is to me what football is to him. 

It took hours but eventually we had every single book on the shelves in alphabetical order based on author. It was a magnificent sight the walls that were plain the last time I came in here are now covered with the many colours of the books I own which made me feel weirdly calm and at home. This room is definitely going to become my safe space where I can come when I need to get away and that's the best present Jude has ever given me. 

"I'm not going to see you for a week straight now we've finished this am I" Jude laughed 

"Possibly but if you join me and read one of the books then you'll see me" I said 

"I'd much prefer you read a book to me I love listening to you read" he said 

"I think that can be arranged but you have to decide what book you want to read so I'd get looking there's a lot to choose from" I laughed 

"I'll think about that tomorrow right now I want to spend the rest of your birthday spoiling you" he said 

"You are definitely doing a good job of that so far I've had the best birthday" I said 

[cheollipop]

ginger & cinnamon tea

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 3.5k

tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, sick fic

after his roommate suggested a way to get rid of the sniffles, san – being the trusting friend he was – just had to try it.

warnings: praise, begging (so... much... begging), pussy-drunk! san, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (boooo!!! 👎🏻), multiple rounds/orgasms, multiple creampies, a sprinkle of overstimulation, a hint of anal (m receiving), one (1) chomp, san's stamina is through the roof in this one oof, perhaps a slight breeding kink bc why not, I think that's all-

A/N: here it is... my first smut fic (yes, its another sick fic. we won't speak about it)... I'm absolutely terrified posting this, but I really hope you all enjoy reading it! a special thanks to alyssa (aka @toxicccred <3) for entertaining my horny thoughts for literally hours yesterday. mwah ily lots.

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

San's sneeze blasted through your phone's speaker, your body flinching back at the sound.

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly.

You shook your head, a small smile on your face as you watched his face sink deeper into his pillow.

"Does your head still hurt?"

He hummed. "It's not as bad. I think the painkillers have finally kicked in."

"What about your fever? Have Woo check it for you."

"(Y/n)."

"Have him make you some soup as well. With extra veggies-"

"Baby, calm down. It's just a cold," San chuckled, the sound coming out rough and gravelly.

You pouted, eyebrows furrowing, exhaling a long sigh. "I hate not being there for you when you're sick. This business trip wasn't even that important." You slumped back in your armchair, yet to change out of your clothes and into something more comfortable.

"You're coming back tomorrow," he reminded you, clearing his throat, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. "You can give me all your love and attention then."

His words brought a smile to your lips. Perhaps it was also the two dimples you loved so much peeking out to greet you.

"No kisses, though."

His bottom lip jutted out. "I guess I'll settle for cuddles."

"Then I'll be sure to put my all into them," you promised.

You kept the call open while you went about your nighttime routine, telling San about your two-day business trip, and how your boss got too drunk and embarrassed himself over dinner. Sliding under the covers, your skin glowing with the fresh layer of skin care he had bought you for valentine's day, you rested your head on the pillow. Neither of you spoke, simply pretending that the other was an arm's reach away as your breaths slowly evened out, falling asleep to soft smiles and pretty dimples.

--

The door opened after a few seconds of you knocking, a large smile on the man's face greeting you.

"Welcome back!"

"Thank you, Woo.” He pulled you into a hug, squeezing you once before letting go. You spoke while you slipped your shoes off, "how's he doing?"

"He's a big boy, don't worry too much about him." Wooyoung walked with you as you made your way to San's room.

You breathed out a laugh. "You know I can't help it."

Wooyoung only smiled, ruffling your hair before disappearing into his room – the door adjacent to San's.

Peeking into San's room, your eyes instantly met with his. He was sitting up in bed, holding a tissue to his nose. You couldn't help the grin splitting your face, nearly hopping with excitement as you made your way towards him. San threw the tissue god-knows-where and held his arms open for you, wrapping them around your frame once you were close enough. You pressed your lips to his forehead, smacking a kiss onto the heated skin before sitting by his side and relaxing into his embrace.

"I've missed you, my love," San muttered against your hair, kissing your temple. His voice was hoarse, and you could tell he had a stuffy nose.

"Me too. So much," you inhaled his scent, hands running up and down his clothed back.

Wooyoung peeked his head back into the room, gym bag slung over his shoulder. He smiled at the sight of the two of you holding each other so close, he wasn't sure where you began and where San ended.

"Alright, lovebirds, I'm going to the gym for a few hours," he spoke, unsure if you could even hear him from how deeply molded into each other the two of you were.

San waved at him with one of the hands wrapped around your back, and you sent him off with a quiet "have fun."

Wooyoung hesitated at the door, peeking in once more, the corner of his lips curling into a sly smirk. "You know…"

You turned your head to look at the man, raising an eyebrow at him, urging him to speak.

"They say some sweet lovemaking gets rid of colds prettyyy quick," he winked.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you could see San's ears turning a bright red – yet you weren't sure if that was Wooyoung’s doing or the cold's.

"Ya!" San grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.

Wooyoung ran away, effectively dodging the swarm of pillows being thrown at him, his squeaky giggles echoing in the apartment even after the front door clicked shut behind him.

"Sorry about that. Just ignore him," San pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, tucking you back into his chest.

You let out a breathy laugh, nuzzling your cheek against San's collarbone. "It's Wooyoung, I'm used to his antics by now."

"You're right," he grinned, laying down on his bed, taking you with him.

"Is there anything I can do to make you feel better, Sannie?"

"Just let me hold you," he flexed his arms around you, squeezing you for a few seconds before relaxing again.

You hummed, letting your eyes flutter shut, your hand sliding under his shirt to settle against the soft skin of his hip.

You remained that way, limbs tangled up with his under the comforter, your cheek pressed to his chest as it rose and fell steadily. You felt his breath hitch, chest hiccuping as he cleared his throat repeatedly. You raised your head to meet his eyes, your hair disheveled and tangled from where his fingers had been running through it.

“Are you okay? Does something hurt?”

His hand smoothed down your unkempt locks, cupping the back of your neck and giving it a small squeeze. “I’m okay,” he cleared his throat again.

You stifle a laugh at his attempt to hold back his cough. “Don’t hold it back, you idiot.”

He pouted, muttering under his breath, “such heartwarming words.” He hid his face in the crook of his elbow and coughed, the sound ripping through his chest. He winced, eyes shut tightly and the corners of his mouth turning downwards.

“Oh, baby,” your fingers ran through his hair, scratching at his scalp before moving down to cup his cheek. San leaned into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm, his skin heated against yours. “I’ll go make you some tea.”

“Don’t go,” he mumbled, taking your free hand in his and interlocking your fingers with his, giving them a tight squeeze.

“I’ll just be a moment,” you leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Just stay here, I don’t need any tea,” San touched his forehead to yours.

You kissed the tip of his nose, then placed another one on his cheekbone. “Yes you do.” Untangling yourself from him, you made your way to the kitchen, stopping at his bedroom door. “Just call out if you need me.”

You left the room, finally allowing yourself to laugh at the expression San was giving you – bottom lip jutting out, eyes big and pleading.

He was so cute, you thought, as you stared at the boiling water. Dropping a few pieces of ginger into the water, followed by a stick of cinnamon, you left them to boil on low heat for a few minutes. You turned the stove off before placing a tea bag into the kettle and watched as the liquid slowly darkened.

Pouring the steaming tea into his favourite mug, you walked back to his room.

You immediately noticed his restless shuffling under the thick blanket, his breathing heavy and labored, a sheen of sweat reflecting the dim light from the small lap perched on his bedside.

"San?" You hurried to his side, setting the mug down by the lamp before placing your palm on his forehead, worried his fever might have returned. "Does anything hurt?"

"(Y/n), please…" He muttered, voice so breathy his words were barely coherent, still fidgeting under his blanket.

"What's wrong, Sannie?" You began to push the blanket off him, allowing the cool air to hit his heated skin.

Your worry faded as soon as you pulled it off his torso, leaving it gathered at his knees. Your eyes traveled between his pants – pulled midway down his thighs – and his hand, wrapped around his hard length, his hips thrusting into his fist with vigor.

"S-san! What are you doing?" Your hands twitched at your sides, not knowing what to do, your eyes stuck on San's lower half. Arousal pooled between your legs, waves of heat surging through your body.

"Please, (Y/n)- ah," he whined. His fingers squeezed around his girth, the breathy moan that escaped his lips going straight to your core. "Please, help me. Wooyoung said-"

"Sannie, Wooyoung’s an idiot. You need to rest," your voice wavered, prying your eyes off San's middle to meet his eyes.

"Please… please, please, (Y/n)."

You were stuck battling between your morals and your arousal, rubbing your thighs together as you struggled to speak. But San was looking up at you with hooded eyes, lips parted as he panted heavily, hips never ceasing their movement. You eyed the bead of precum leaking from his tip – how his hand smeared it down his length with its relentless movement. With those flushed cheeks and whispered pleads – how could you ever say no?

"What can I do to make you feel better?"

"Ah, San. Fuck. Your mouth is so-," warm, you wanted to say before San ripped another moan out of you, your hand fisted in his hair as he lapped at your cunt like a starved man.

He slipped another finger alongside the two he had stuffed inside you, curling them to drag along your walls, pressing against the spot that made your back arch, your breathy moans egging him on.

"Taste so good," he nuzzled his nose against your clit, his tongue slipping down to lick up the wetness dripping out of you and around his fingers. His hips rutted against the sheets where he laid on his stomach, eyes fluterring shut as he breathed heavily against your folds, drunk off your arousal.

"Oh, God. San- hnngh," your hips jumped off the bed, your hand on the back of San's head helping you push him closer to your core. "I'm about to- ah, baby, you're making me feel so good."

San's fingers thrusted into you harder, encouraged by your praise, pressing against your sweet spot every time he pushed back in. His tongue was back on your clit, alternating between lapping at it and sucking it between his lips. Your back arched once more as waves of pleasure rushed through your body, your thighs shaking around San's face as he helped you ride out your high, his fingers deep inside you while his tongue worked to swallow everything you gave him.

Panting heavily, your eyes closed, trying to regain your breath. "Shit, San."

San climbed up your body, his chin dripping with his spit and your arousal. "Did that feel good?" He looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest rising and falling at the same rate as yours.

“Yes, San, it was amazing,” you breathed out a laugh, jumping when the tip of his cock brushed against your sensitive clit. San leaned closer, his chest pressed against yours, head tucked into the crook of your neck.

"Can I-" San pressed his lips against your skin, taking the shell of your ear between his teeth, the hand not holding him up wrapping around his cock again. He pumped himself a few times before running his tip along your folds, his precum mixing with the spit and arousal.

You tucked a few strands behind his ear, holding his cheek in your hand, smiling when he nuzzled into the touch. "Kiss me, Sannie."

San shook his head against your palm. "I don't want to get you sick."

You moved your hand to his nape, pulling his face closer to yours, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips, smiling against the skin. "I think it's a little too late for that."

That was all it took for San to slam his lips against yours and moaning into your mouth, his teeth clashing against your front ones, desperately biting into your bottom lip.

"Let me have you, please, let me," he whispered against your lips, diving back in to suck your bitten bottom lip into his mouth.

You nodded, reaching down to take his length between your fingers – eliciting a sharp hiss from the man above you – and positioned him at your entrance, adjusting your position to take him more easily. San pushed forward, his tip breaching your tight hole, sliding more of his length inside you as his tongue ran over the roof of your mouth, sucking your tongue between his lips. He bottomed out inside you, pulling back to pant against your lips, his moans breathy and needy. Grinding his hips against yours, your eyes rolled back with a whispered fuck.

San pressed his forehead to yours, struggling to keep his eyes open while your walls squeezed around his length. "Is that okay, baby? God, you feel so good, I could cum right now."

"It feels so- so good, Sannie," you cupped his cheeks, one hand slipping down to his neck. "Just- please, move."

With his lips attached to your neck, he gave a few slow thrusts, the stretch of his cock between your walls almost overwhelming. You wrapped your arms around San's shoulders, feeling his muscles flex under your touch.

"I need-" he panted against your skin, lips pressed to your cheek, peppering open-mouthed kisses all over your face. San bent one of his knees, pressing it into the mattress by your hips, your thigh hooked over his. "I need more, please. Can I have more, please baby?"

San's eyes were teary as they stared into yours, pleading, his hand squeezing the flesh of your hip, cock dragging against your walls.

Your hand slid down to his lower back, lips pressing against his jaw. "Take what you want, Sannie, I'm all yours."

Digging the knee by your hip into the mattress, San pushed his cock all the way inside you, rolling his hips until they were flush with yours, your eyes rolling back at the stretch. With a hand on the underside of your thigh, he bent it back until your knee rested under your armpit before he began to piston his hips, building a steady rhythm as he fucked the moans out of you. San’s lips pressed gentle kisses down the column of your throat, stopping to suck and bite at the flesh, leaving behind a trail of purple and blue bruises that you would scold him for later.

He breathed heavily against your skin, a mix of grunts and airy moans escaping his lips. “You’re so perfect, every last bit of you,” he took your nipple into his mouth, giving it a sharp suck before biting down on it, your body jolting under him.

“San – a-ahh – more, give me more.” Your whole body spasmed every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot, his hand pushing your other leg over his shoulder, folding you in half so he could fuck you even harder. “You feel so good, baby. So, so good.”

“Fuck. I’m not going to last,” he tongue made a trail up your cleavage to the hollow of your neck, moving to your face and slotting his lips against yours, running his tongue over your teeth.

Please, please, please, you repeated, unsure of what exactly you were asking for, San’s hips slamming so hard against yours it left your brain lagging. He brought the hand on your thigh down to your sopping folds, two fingers rubbing hastily at your swollen clit as he tried to bring you over the edge with him. Your walls clenched around his throbbing cock as a numbing wave of pleasure coursed through your body. San’s hips stuttered, managing a few more thrusts before stilling, cock pushed all the way inside your pulsing cunt as the familiar warmth of his cum took over your senses. A series of high-pitched moans escaped his lips as he emptied his load inside you.

He pulled out just enough to shoot the last rope of cum onto your mound, rubbing it through your folds with the tip of his cock, your legs closing in around his hips when he brushed against your clit.

He looked down at the mess he had made before sheathing himself back inside your cunt, pushing some of his cum out in the process.

“S-san!” Your hips jolted, trying to move away from him as you began to feel overstimulated.

“I’m sorry, please, just-” He rocked his hips into yours, his face tucked into your neck, his hot breath blowing against your skin. “I need more, (Y/n).”

Your thighs shook uncontrollably around him, the pleasure mixing with pain as your nerves went into overdrive. But San was looking at you with teary eyes, sniffing every other second as his nose started running. He looked so fucked out, hair disheveled and the sheen of sweat covering his body reflecting the dim light. He pushed his hips flush against yours, grinding slowly, unable to stop himself as waves of pleasure shot through his spine.

“Please… just one more… please, baby, will you give it to me?” He pressed his lips to your cheek, then to your nose, and finally your mouth, placing short sweet kisses on your lips while he begged you for more.

When the tears welling up in his eyes – a mixture of his cold and the pleasure overwhelming his every sense – dampened his precious skin, his eyes glimmering as he looked down at you, you knew you had lost this battle. Perhaps even the war, and everything in between.

“I’ll give you anything you want, Sannie,” you whispered against his lips, moaning into his mouth as his thrusts picked up their pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing between the four walls.

Sliding his arms under you, he held you closer to him, your tits squeezing against his chest as his cock slid in and out of you, pushing directly against your g-spot with every thrust. San’s moans got louder – needier – as he pumped himself into you, desperately chasing his high.

“You’re taking me so well, my love – ahhh – fuck, (Y/n), every single inch,” he bit down on your shoulder, squeezing your waist so tight he was bound to leave bruises. “I’m going to fill you up with so much cum, it’ll be dripping out of you for days. You'll take all of it, won't you?”

His words made your walls clamp up on him, his thrusts faltering and turning sloppy. “Please, Sannie, want your cum so bad – hnnngh,” your nails dragged over the soft skin of his back, your eyes rolling back when his fingers made contact with your clit, rubbing at it desperately, reveling in the feeling of your pussy clenching around his cock. “I’m- fuck, I’m so close.”

"My pretty baby," he slid his tongue over your parted lips. "So beautiful, letting me fuck my cum into her."

Your hand slid down his slick skin to squeeze at the firm flesh of his ass, making him groan into your neck. Slowly, your fingers made their way between his cheeks, brushing over his puckered hole. San’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, pounding his cock into you with fervor as you sunk the tip of your finger into his ass, feeling it clench around your digit. A familiar warmth surged through you as San pumped his cum into you, sliding his cock in and out of your abused cunt as ribbons of white painted your walls. He slowly stilled his hips and you felt his cock throbbing inside you, his cum fucked so deep into you, you feared no contraceptive could stop you from bearing his children. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to yours as he filled you up; his lips parted after a few seconds, the pleasure leaving him too fucked out to do anything but moan and groan into your mouth.

“(Y/n), baby, you feel so good... it won’t stop coming out,” he ground his hips into yours, feeling more of his cum filling you up, a stream of it leaking out and pooling on his sheets.

The tears in his eyes, the euphoric expression on his face, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your sensitive clit, the feeling of his cock buried so deep within you still shooting out ropes of cum – you weren’t sure what threw you off the edge, perhaps it was all of those factors combined. Your toes curled, and you could swear you saw stars, vision blurring as your body writhed under San’s, clawing at his back while he helped you ride out your high.

Your legs didn't stop spasming even after San plopped down on his side next to you, reaching out to brush your hair off your face, his palm cupping your cheek, thumb rubbing against the flushed skin. “Are you okay?”

You blinked slowly at him, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Mmm, perfect.” You turned your body to face him, your knees shaking in the process – and San may or may not have smiled proudly at that. “You know, I would have hid your scarves a long time ago if I knew you could fuck like that.”

Your giggles vibrated between the walls as San attacked you, fingers prodding at your sides, limbs too heavy to fight him off your body.

--

Wooyoung peeked his head into the room, grimacing at the overbearing stuffiness. Looking around, he noticed the pile of clothes thrown into one corner, soiled towels tossed in the opposite direction. A pair of bodies slept soundly, tangled up together under the thick comforter, San's soft snores breaking through the stillness in the room.

Wooyoung’s hand reached up to cover his mouth, stifling a squeaky laugh as the realization hit him.

“Holy shit, they actually did it.”

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