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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months ago

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“Disenshittify or Die”

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I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Last weekend, I traveled to Las Vegas for Defcon 32, where I had the immense privilege of giving a solo talk on Track 1, entitled "Disenshittify or die! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification":

https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=54861

This was a followup to last year's talk, "An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet's Enshittification," a talk that kicked off a lot of international interest in my analysis of platform decay ("enshittification"):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rimtaSgGz_4

The Defcon organizers have earned a restful week or two, and that means that the video of my talk hasn't yet been posted to Defcon's Youtube channel, so in the meantime, I thought I'd post a lightly edited version of my speech crib. If you're headed to Burning Man, you can hear me reprise this talk at Palenque Norte (7&E); I'm kicking off their lecture series on Tuesday, Aug 27 at 1PM.

What the fuck happened to the old, good internet?

I mean, sure, our bosses were a little surveillance-happy, and they were usually up for sharing their data with the NSA, and whenever there was a tossup between user security and growth, it was always YOLO time.

But Google Search used to work. Facebook used to show you posts from people you followed. Uber used to be cheaper than a taxi and pay the driver more than a cabbie made. Amazon used to sell products, not Shein-grade self-destructing dropshipped garbage from all-consonant brands. Apple used to defend your privacy, rather than spying on you with your no-modifications-allowed Iphone.

There was a time when you searching for an album on Spotify would get you that album – not a playlist of insipid AI-generated covers with the same name and art.

Microsoft used to sell you software – sure, it was buggy – but now they just let you access apps in the cloud, so they can watch how you use those apps and strip the features you use the most out of the basic tier and turn them into an upcharge.

What – and I cannot stress this enough – the fuck happened?!

I’m talking about enshittification.

Here’s what enshittification looks like from the outside: First, you see a company that’s being good to its end users. Google puts the best search results at the top; Facebook shows you a feed of posts from people and groups you followl; Uber charges small dollars for a cab; Amazon subsidizes goods and returns and shipping and puts the best match for your product search at the top of the page.

That’s stage one, being good to end users. But there’s another part of this stage, call it stage 1a). That’s figuring out how to lock in those users.

There’s so many ways to lock in users.

If you’re Facebook, the users do it for you. You joined Facebook because there were people there you wanted to hang out with, and other people joined Facebook to hang out with you.

That’s the old “network effects” in action, and with network effects come “the collective action problem." Because you love your friends, but goddamn are they a pain in the ass! You all agree that FB sucks, sure, but can you all agree on when it’s time to leave?

No way.

Can you agree on where to go next?

Hell no.

You’re there because that’s where the support group for your rare disease hangs out, and your bestie is there because that’s where they talk with the people in the country they moved away from, then there’s that friend who coordinates their kid’s little league car pools on FB, and the best dungeon master you know isn’t gonna leave FB because that’s where her customers are.

So you’re stuck, because even though FB use comes at a high cost – your privacy, your dignity and your sanity – that’s still less than the switching cost you’d have to bear if you left: namely, all those friends who have taken you hostage, and whom you are holding hostage

Now, sometimes companies lock you in with money, like Amazon getting you to prepay for a year’s shipping with Prime, or to buy your Audible books on a monthly subscription, which virtually guarantees that every shopping search will start on Amazon, after all, you’ve already paid for it.

Sometimes, they lock you in with DRM, like HP selling you a printer with four ink cartridges filled with fluid that retails for more than $10,000/gallon, and using DRM to stop you from refilling any of those ink carts or using a third-party cartridge. So when one cart runs dry, you have to refill it or throw away your investment in the remaining three cartridges and the printer itself.

Sometimes, it’s a grab bag:

You can’t run your Ios apps without Apple hardware;

you can’t run your Apple music, books and movies on anything except an Ios app;

your iPhone uses parts pairing – DRM handshakes between replacement parts and the main system – so you can’t use third-party parts to fix it; and

every OEM iPhone part has a microscopic Apple logo engraved on it, so Apple can demand that the US Customs and Border Service seize any shipment of refurb Iphone parts as trademark violations.

Think Different, amirite?

Getting you locked in completes phase one of the enshittification cycle and signals the start of phase two: making things worse for you to make things better for business customers.

For example, a platform might poison its search results, like Google selling more and more of its results pages to ads that are identified with lighter and lighter tinier and tinier type.

Or Amazon selling off search results and calling it an “ad” business. They make $38b/year on this scam. The first result for your search is, on average, 29% more expensive than the best match for your search. The first row is 25% more expensive than the best match. On average, the best match for your search is likely to be found seventeen places down on the results page.

Other platforms sell off your feed, like Facebook, which started off showing you the things you asked to see, but now the quantum of content from the people you follow has dwindled to a homeopathic residue, leaving a void that Facebook fills with things that people pay to show you: boosted posts from publishers you haven’t subscribed to, and, of course, ads.

Now at this point you might be thinking ‘sure, if you’re not paying for the product, you’re the product.'

Bullshit!

Bull.

Shit.

The people who buy those Google ads? They pay more every year for worse ad-targeting and more ad-fraud

Those publishers paying to nonconsensually cram their content into your Facebook feed? They have to do that because FB suppresses their ability to reach the people who actually subscribed to them

The Amazon sellers with the best match for your query have to outbid everyone else just to show up on the first page of results. It costs so much to sell on Amazon that between 45-51% of every dollar an independent seller brings in has to be kicked up to Don Bezos and the Amazon crime family. Those sellers don’t have the kind of margins that let them pay 51% They have to raise prices in order to avoid losing money on every sale.

"But wait!" I hear you say!

[Come on, say it!]

"But wait! Things on Amazon aren’t more expensive that things at Target, or Walmart, or at a mom and pop store, or direct from the manufacturer.

"How can sellers be raising prices on Amazon if the price at Amazon is the same as at is everywhere else?"

[Any guesses?!]

That’s right, they charge more everywhere. They have to. Amazon binds its sellers to a policy called “most favored nation status,” which says they can’t charge more on Amazon than they charge elsewhere, including direct from their own factory store.

So every seller that wants to sell on Amazon has to raise their prices everywhere else.

Now, these sellers are Amazon’s best customers. They’re paying for the product, and they’re still getting screwed.

Paying for the product doesn’t fill your vapid boss’s shriveled heart with so much joy that he decides to stop trying to think of ways to fuck you over.

Look at Apple. Remember when Apple offered every Ios user a one-click opt out for app-based surveillance? And 96% of users clicked that box?

(The other four percent were either drunk or Facebook employees or drunk Facebook employees.)

That cost Facebook at least ten billion dollars per year in lost surveillance revenue?

I mean, you love to see it.

But did you know that at the same time Apple started spying on Ios users in the same way that Facebook had been, for surveillance data to use to target users for its competing advertising product?

Your Iphone isn’t an ad-supported gimme. You paid a thousand fucking dollars for that distraction rectangle in your pocket, and you’re still the product. What’s more, Apple has rigged Ios so that you can’t mod the OS to block its spying.

If you’re not not paying for the product, you’re the product, and if you are paying for the product, you’re still the product.

Just ask the farmers who are expected to swap parts into their own busted half-million dollar, mission-critical tractors, but can’t actually use those parts until a technician charges them $200 to drive out to the farm and type a parts pairing unlock code into their console.

John Deere’s not giving away tractors. Give John Deere a half mil for a tractor and you will be the product.

Please, my brothers and sisters in Christ. Please! Stop saying ‘if you’re not paying for the product, you’re the product.’

OK, OK, so that’s phase two of enshittification.

Phase one: be good to users while locking them in.

Phase two: screw the users a little to you can good to business customers while locking them in.

Phase three: screw everybody and take all the value for yourself. Leave behind the absolute bare minimum of utility so that everyone stays locked into your pile of shit.

Enshittification: a tragedy in three acts.

That’s what enshittification looks like from the outside, but what’s going on inside the company? What is the pathological mechanism? What sci-fi entropy ray converts the excellent and useful service into a pile of shit?

That mechanism is called twiddling. Twiddling is when someone alters the back end of a service to change how its business operates, changing prices, costs, search ranking, recommendation criteria and other foundational aspects of the system.

Digital platforms are a twiddler’s utopia. A grocer would need an army of teenagers with pricing guns on rollerblades to reprice everything in the building when someone arrives who’s extra hungry.

Whereas the McDonald’s Investments portfolio company Plexure advertises that it can use surveillance data to predict when an app user has just gotten paid so the seller can tack an extra couple bucks onto the price of their breakfast sandwich.

And of course, as the prophet William Gibson warned us, ‘cyberspace is everting.' With digital shelf tags, grocers can change prices whenever they feel like, like the grocers in Norway, whose e-ink shelf tags change the prices 2,000 times per day.

Every Uber driver is offered a different wage for every job. If a driver has been picky lately, the job pays more. But if the driver has been desperate enough to grab every ride the app offers, the pay goes down, and down, and down.

The law professor Veena Dubal calls this ‘algorithmic wage discrimination.' It’s a prime example of twiddling.

Every youtuber knows what it’s like to be twiddled. You work for weeks or months, spend thousands of dollars to make a video, then the algorithm decides that no one – not your own subscribers, not searchers who type in the exact name of your video – will see it.

Why? Who knows? The algorithm’s rules are not public.

Because content moderation is the last redoubt of security through obscurit: they can’t tell you what the como algorithm is downranking because then you’d cheat.

Youtube is the kind of shitty boss who docks every paycheck for all the rules you’ve broken, but won’t tell you what those rules were, lest you figure out how to break those rules next time without your boss catching you.

Twiddling can also work in some users’ favor, of course. Sometimes platforms twiddle to make things better for end users or business customers.

For example, Emily Baker-White from Forbes revealed the existence of a back-end feature that Tiktok’s management can access they call the “heating tool.”

When a manager applies the heating toll to a performer’s account, that performer’s videos are thrust into the feeds of millions of users, without regard to whether the recommendation algorithm predicts they will enjoy that video.

Why would they do this? Well, here’s an analogy from my boyhood I used to go to this traveling fair that would come to Toronto at the end of every summer, the Canadian National Exhibition. If you’ve been to a fair like the Ex, you know that you can always spot some guy lugging around a comedically huge teddy bear.

Nominally, you win that teddy bear by throwing five balls in a peach-basket, but to a first approximation, no one has ever gotten five balls to stay in that peach-basket.

That guy “won” the teddy bear when a carny on the midway singled him out and said, "fella, I like your face. Tell you what I’m gonna do: You get just one ball in the basket and I’ll give you this keychain, and if you amass two keychains, I’ll let you trade them in for one of these galactic-scale teddy-bears."

That’s how the guy got his teddy bear, which he now has to drag up and down the midway for the rest of the day.

Why the hell did that carny give away the teddy bear? Because it turns the guy into a walking billboard for the midway games. If that dopey-looking Judas Goat can get five balls into a peach basket, then so can you.

Except you can’t.

Tiktok’s heating tool is a way to give away tactical giant teddy bears. When someone in the TikTok brain trust decides they need more sports bros on the platform, they pick one bro out at random and make him king for the day, heating the shit out of his account.

That guy gets a bazillion views and he starts running around on all the sports bro forums trumpeting his success: *I am the Louis Pasteur of sports bro influencers!"

The other sports bros pile in and start retooling to make content that conforms to the idiosyncratic Tiktok format. When they fail to get giant teddy bears of their own, they assume that it’s because they’re doing Tiktok wrong, because they don’t know about the heating tool.

But then comes the day when the TikTok Star Chamber decides they need to lure in more astrologers, so they take the heat off that one lucky sports bro, and start heating up some lucky astrologer.

Giant teddy bears are all over the place: those Uber drivers who were boasting to the NYT ten years ago about earning $50/hour? The Substackers who were rolling in dough? Joe Rogan and his hundred million dollar Spotify payout? Those people are all the proud owners of giant teddy bears, and they’re a steal.

Because every dollar they get from the platform turns into five dollars worth of free labor from suckers who think they just internetting wrong.

Giant teddy bears are just one way of twiddling. Platforms can play games with every part of their business logic, in highly automated ways, that allows them to quickly and efficiently siphon value from end users to business customers and back again, hiding the pea in a shell game conducted at machine speeds, until they’ve got everyone so turned around that they take all the value for themselves.

That’s the how: How the platforms do the trick where they are good to users, then lock users in, then maltreat users to be good to business customers, then lock in those business customers, then take all the value for themselves.

So now we know what is happening, and how it is happening, all that’s left is why it’s happening.

Now, on the one hand, the why is pretty obvious. The less value that end-users and business customers capture, the more value there is left to divide up among the shareholders and the executives.

That’s why, but it doesn’t tell you why now. Companies could have done this shit at any time in the past 20 years, but they didn’t. Or at least, the successful ones didn’t. The ones that turned themselves into piles of shit got treated like piles of shit. We avoided them and they died.

Remember Myspace? Yahoo Search? Livejournal? Sure, they’re still serving some kind of AI slop or programmatic ad junk if you hit those domains, but they’re gone.

And there’s the clue: It used to be that if you enshittified your product, bad things happened to your company. Now, there are no consequences for enshittification, so everyone’s doing it.

Let’s break that down: What stops a company from enshittifying?

There are four forces that discipline tech companies. The first one is, obviously, competition.

If your customers find it easy to leave, then you have to worry about them leaving

Many factors can contribute to how hard or easy it is to depart a platform, like the network effects that Facebook has going for it. But the most important factor is whether there is anywhere to go.

Back in 2012, Facebook bought Insta for a billion dollars. That may seem like chump-change in these days of eleven-digit Big Tech acquisitions, but that was a big sum in those innocent days, and it was an especially big sum to pay for Insta. The company only had 13 employees, and a mere 25 million registered users.

But what mattered to Zuckerberg wasn’t how many users Insta had, it was where those users came from.

[Does anyone know where those Insta users came from?]

That’s right, they left Facebook and joined Insta. They were sick of FB, even though they liked the people there, they hated creepy Zuck, they hated the platform, so they left and they didn’t come back.

So Zuck spent a cool billion to recapture them, A fact he put in writing in a midnight email to CFO David Ebersman, explaining that he was paying over the odds for Insta because his users hated him, and loved Insta. So even if they quit Facebook (the platform), they would still be captured Facebook (the company).

Now, on paper, Zuck’s Instagram acquisition is illegal, but normally, that would be hard to stop, because you’d have to prove that he bought Insta with the intention of curtailing competition.

But in this case, Zuck tripped over his own dick: he put it in writing.

But Obama’s DoJ and FTC just let that one slide, following the pro-monopoly policies of Reagan, Bush I, Clinton and Bush II, and setting an example that Trump would follow, greenlighting gigamergers like the catastrophic, incestuous Warner-Discovery marriage.

Indeed, for 40 years, starting with Carter, and accelerating through Reagan, the US has encouraged monopoly formation, as an official policy, on the grounds that monopolies are “efficient.”

If everyone is using Google Search, that’s something we should celebrate. It means they’ve got the very best search and wouldn’t it be perverse to spend public funds to punish them for making the best product?

But as we all know, Google didn’t maintain search dominance by being best. They did it by paying bribes. More than 20 billion per year to Apple alone to be the default Ios search, plus billions more to Samsung, Mozilla, and anyone else making a product or service with a search-box on it, ensuring that you never stumble on a search engine that’s better than theirs.

Which, in turn, ensured that no one smart invested big in rival search engines, even if they were visibly, obviously superior. Why bother making something better if Google’s buying up all the market oxygen before it can kindle your product to life?

Facebook, Google, Microsoft, Amazon – they’re not “making things” companies, they’re “buying things” companies, taking advantage of official tolerance for anticompetitive acquisitions, predatory pricing, market distorting exclusivity deals and other acts specifically prohibited by existing antitrust law.

Their goal is to become too big to fail, because that makes them too big to jail, and that means they can be too big to care.

Which is why Google Search is a pile of shit and everything on Amazon is dropshipped garbage that instantly disintegrates in a cloud of offgassed volatile organic compounds when you open the box.

Once companies no longer fear losing your business to a competitor, it’s much easier for them to treat you badly, because what’re you gonna do?

Remember Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator in those old SNL sketches? “We don’t care. We don’t have to. We’re the phone company.”

Competition is the first force that serves to discipline companies and the enshittificatory impulses of their leadership, and we just stopped enforcing competition law.

It takes a special kind of smooth-brained asshole – that is, an establishment economist – to insist that the collapse of every industry from eyeglasses to vitamin C into a cartel of five or fewer companies has nothing to do with policies that officially encouraged monopolization.

It’s like we used to put down rat poison and we didn’t have a rat problem. Then these dickheads convinced us that rats were good for us and we stopped putting down rat poison, and now rats are gnawing our faces off and they’re all running around saying, "Who’s to say where all these rats came from? Maybe it was that we stopped putting down poison, but maybe it’s just the Time of the Rats. The Great Forces of History bearing down on this moment to multiply rats beyond all measure!"

Antitrust didn’t slip down that staircase and fall spine-first on that stiletto: they stabbed it in the back and then they pushed it.

And when they killed antitrust, they also killed regulation, the second force that disciplines companies. Regulation is possible, but only when the regulator is more powerful than the regulated entities. When a company is bigger than the government, it gets damned hard to credibly threaten to punish that company, no matter what its sins.

That’s what protected IBM for all those years when it had its boot on the throat of the American tech sector. Do you know, the DOJ fought to break up IBM in the courts from 1970-1982, and that every year, for 12 consecutive years, IBM spent more on lawyers to fight the USG than the DOJ Antitrust Division spent on all the lawyers fighting every antitrust case in the entire USA?

IBM outspent Uncle Sam for 12 years. People called it “Antitrust’s Vietnam.” All that money paid off, because by 1982, the president was Ronald Reagan, a man whose official policy was that monopolies were “efficient." So he dropped the case, and Big Blue wriggled off the hook.

It’s hard to regulate a monopolist, and it’s hard to regulate a cartel. When a sector is composed of hundreds of competing companies, they compete. They genuinely fight with one another, trying to poach each others’ customers and workers. They are at each others’ throats.

It’s hard enough for a couple hundred executives to agree on anything. But when they’re legitimately competing with one another, really obsessing about how to eat each others’ lunches, they can’t agree on anything.

The instant one of them goes to their regulator with some bullshit story, about how it’s impossible to have a decent search engine without fine-grained commercial surveillance; or how it’s impossible to have a secure and easy to use mobile device without a total veto over which software can run on it; or how it’s impossible to administer an ISP’s network unless you can slow down connections to servers whose owners aren’t paying bribes for “premium carriage"; there’s some *other company saying, “That’s bullshit”

“We’ve managed it! Here’s our server logs, our quarterly financials and our customer testimonials to prove it.”

100 companies are a rabble, they're a mob. They can’t agree on a lobbying position. They’re too busy eating each others’ lunch to agree on how to cater a meeting to discuss it.

But let those hundred companies merge to monopoly, absorb one another in an incestuous orgy, turn into five giant companies, so inbred they’ve got a corporate Habsburg jaw, and they become a cartel.

It’s easy for a cartel to agree on what bullshit they’re all going to feed their regulator, and to mobilize some of the excess billions they’ve reaped through consolidation, which freed them from “wasteful competition," sp they can capture their regulators completely.

You know, Congress used to pass federal consumer privacy laws? Not anymore.

The last time Congress managed to pass a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988: The Video Privacy Protection Act. That’s a law that bans video-store clerks from telling newspapers what VHS cassettes you take home. In other words, it regulates three things that have effectively ceased to exist.

The threat of having your video rental history out there in the public eye was not the last or most urgent threat the American public faced, and yet, Congress is deadlocked on passing a privacy law.

Tech companies’ regulatory capture involves a risible and transparent gambit, that is so stupid, it’s an insult to all the good hardworking risible transparent ruses out there.

Namely, they claim that when they violate your consumer, privacy or labor rights, It’s not a crime, because they do it with an app.

Algorithmic wage discrimination isn’t illegal wage theft: we do it with an app.

Spying on you from asshole to appetite isn’t a privacy violation: we do it with an app.

And Amazon’s scam search tool that tricks you into paying 29% more than the best match for your query? Not a ripoff. We do it with an app.

Once we killed competition – stopped putting down rat poison – we got cartels – the rats ate our faces. And the cartels captured their regulators – the rats bought out the poison factory and shut it down.

So companies aren’t constrained by competition or regulation.

But you know what? This is tech, and tech is different.IIt’s different because it’s flexible. Because our computers are Turing-complete universal von Neumann machines. That means that any enshittificatory alteration to a program can be disenshittified with another program.

Every time HP jacks up the price of ink , they invite a competitor to market a refill kit or a compatible cartridge.

When Tesla installs code that says you have to pay an extra monthly fee to use your whole battery, they invite a modder to start selling a kit to jailbreak that battery and charge it all the way up.

Lemme take you through a little example of how that works: Imagine this is a product design meeting for our company’s website, and the guy leading the meeting says “Dudes, you know how our KPI is topline ad-revenue? Well, I’ve calculated that if we make the ads just 20% more invasive and obnoxious, we’ll boost ad rev by 2%”

This is a good pitch. Hit that KPI and everyone gets a fat bonus. We can all take our families on a luxury ski vacation in Switzerland.

But here’s the thing: someone’s gonna stick their arm up – someone who doesn’t give a shit about user well-being, and that person is gonna say, “I love how you think, Elon. But has it occurred to you that if we make the ads 20% more obnoxious, then 40% of our users will go to a search engine and type 'How do I block ads?'"

I mean, what a nightmare! Because once a user does that, the revenue from that user doesn’t rise to 102%. It doesn’t stay at 100% It falls to zero, forever.

[Any guesses why?]

Because no user ever went back to the search engine and typed, 'How do I start seeing ads again?'

Once the user jailbreaks their phone or discovers third party ink, or develops a relationship with an independent Tesla mechanic who’ll unlock all the DLC in their car, that user is gone, forever.

Interoperability – that latent property bequeathed to us courtesy of Herrs Turing and Von Neumann and their infinitely flexible, universal machines – that is a serious check on enshittification.

The fact that Congress hasn’t passed a privacy law since 1988 Is countered, at least in part, by the fact that the majority of web users are now running ad-blockers, which are also tracker-blockers.

But no one’s ever installed a tracker-blocker for an app. Because reverse engineering an app puts in you jeopardy of criminal and civil prosecution under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, with penalties of a 5-year prison sentence and a $500k fine for a first offense.

And violating its terms of service puts you in jeopardy under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act of 1986, which is the law that Ronald Reagan signed in a panic after watching Wargames (seriously!).

Helping other users violate the terms of service can get you hit with a lawsuit for tortious interference with contract. And then there’s trademark, copyright and patent.

All that nonsense we call “IP,” but which Jay Freeman of Cydia calls “Felony Contempt of Business Model."

So if we’re still at that product planning meeting and now it’s time to talk about our app, the guy leading the meeting says, “OK, so we’ll make the ads in the app 20% more obnoxious to pull a 2% increase in topline ad rev?”

And that person who objected to making the website 20% worse? Their hand goes back up. Only this time they say “Why don’t we make the ads 100% more invasive and get a 10% increase in ad rev?"

Because it doesn't matter if a user goes to a search engine and types, “How do I block ads in an app." The answer is: you can't. So YOLO, enshittify away.

“IP” is just a euphemism for “any law that lets me reach outside my company’s walls to exert coercive control over my critics, competitors and customers,” and “app” is just a euphemism for “A web page skinned with the right IP so that protecting your privacy while you use it is a felony.”

Interop used to keep companies from enshittifying. If a company made its client suck, someone would roll out an alternative client, if they ripped a feature out and wanted to sell it back to you as a monthly subscription, someone would make a compatible plugin that restored it for a one-time fee, or for free.

To help people flee Myspace, FB gave them bots that you’d load with your login credentials. It would scrape your waiting Myspace messages and put ‘em in your FB inbox, and login to Myspace and paste your replies into your Myspace outbox. So you didn’t have to choose between the people you loved on Myspace, and Facebook, which launched with a promise never to spy on you. Remember that?!

Thanks to the metastasis of IP, all that is off the table today. Apple owes its very existence to iWork Suite, whose Pages, Numbers and Keynote are file-compatible with Microsoft’s Word, Excel and Powerpoint. But make an IOS runtime that’ll play back the files you bought from Apple’s stores on other platforms, and they’ll nuke you til you glow.

FB wouldn’t have had a hope of breaking Myspace’s grip on social media without that scrape, but scrape FB today in support of an alternative client and their lawyers will bomb you til the rubble bounces.

Google scraped every website in the world to create its search index. Try and scrape Google and they’ll have your head on a pike.

When they did it, it was progress. When you do it to them, that’s piracy. Every pirate wants to be an admiral.

Because this handful of companies has so thoroughly captured their regulators, they can wield the power of the state against you when you try to break their grip on power, even as their own flagrant violations of our rights go unpunished. Because they do them with an app.

Tech lost its fear of competitin it neutralized the threat from regulators, and then put them in harness to attack new startups that might do unto them as they did unto the companies that came before them.

But even so, there was a force that kept our bosses in check That force was us. Tech workers.

Tech workers have historically been in short supply, which gave us power, and our bosses knew it.

To get us to work crazy hours, they came up with a trick. They appealed to our love of technology, and told us that we were heroes of a digital revolution, who would “organize the world’s information and make it useful,” who would “bring the world closer together.”

They brought in expert set-dressers to turn our workplaces into whimsical campuses with free laundry, gourmet cafeterias, massages, and kombucha, and a surgeon on hand to freeze our eggs so that we could work through our fertile years.

They convinced us that we were being pampered, rather than being worked like government mules.

This trick has a name. Fobazi Ettarh, the librarian-theorist, calls it “vocational awe, and Elon Musk calls it being “extremely hardcore.”

This worked very well. Boy did we put in some long-ass hours!

But for our bosses, this trick failed badly. Because if you miss your mother’s funeral and to hit a deadline, and then your boss orders you to enshittify that product, you are gonna experience a profound moral injury, which you are absolutely gonna make your boss share.

Because what are they gonna do? Fire you? They can’t hire someone else to do your job, and you can get a job that’s even better at the shop across the street.

So workers held the line when competition, regulation and interop failed.

But eventually, supply caught up with demand. Tech laid off 260,000 of us last year, and another 100,000 in the first half of this year.

You can’t tell your bosses to go fuck themselves, because they’ll fire your ass and give your job to someone who’ll be only too happy to enshittify that product you built.

That’s why this is all happening right now. Our bosses aren’t different. They didn’t catch a mind-virus that turned them into greedy assholes who don’t care about our users’ wellbeing or the quality of our products.

As far as our bosses have always been concerned, the point of the business was to charge the most, and deliver the least, while sharing as little as possible with suppliers, workers, users and customers. They’re not running charities.

Since day one, our bosses have shown up for work and yanked as hard as they can on the big ENSHITTIFICATION lever behind their desks, only that lever didn’t move much. It was all gummed up by competition, regulation, interop and workers.

As those sources of friction melted away, the enshittification lever started moving very freely.

Which sucks, I know. But think about this for a sec: our bosses, despite being wildly imperfect vessels capable of rationalizing endless greed and cheating, nevertheless oversaw a series of actually great products and services.

Not because they used to be better people, but because they used to be subjected to discipline.

So it follows that if we want to end the enshittocene, dismantle the enshitternet, and build a new, good internet that our bosses can’t wreck, we need to make sure that these constraints are durably installed on that internet, wound around its very roots and nerves. And we have to stand guard over it so that it can’t be dismantled again.

A new, good internet is one that has the positive aspects of the old, good internet: an ethic of technological self-determination, where users of technology (and hackers, tinkerers, startups and others serving as their proxies) can reconfigure and mod the technology they use, so that it does what they need it to do, and so that it can’t be used against them.

But the new, good internet will fix the defects of the old, good internet, the part that made it hard to use for anyone who wasn’t us. And hell yeah we can do that. Tech bosses swear that it’s impossible, that you can’t have a conversation friend without sharing it with Zuck; or search the web without letting Google scrape you down to the viscera; or have a phone that works reliably without giving Apple a veto over the software you install.

They claim that it’s a nonsense to even ponder this kind of thing. It’s like making water that’s not wet. But that’s bullshit. We can have nice things. We can build for the people we love, and give them a place that’s worth of their time and attention.

To do that, we have to install constraints.

The first constraint, remember, is competition. We’re living through a epochal shift in competition policy. After 40 years with antitrust enforcement in an induced coma, a wave of antitrust vigor has swept through governments all over the world. Regulators are stepping in to ban monopolistic practices, open up walled gardens, block anticompetitive mergers, and even unwind corrupt mergers that were undertaken on false pretenses.

Normally this is the place in the speech where I’d list out all the amazing things that have happened over the past four years. The enforcement actions that blocked companies from becoming too big to care, and that scared companies away from even trying.

Like Wiz, which just noped out of the largest acquisition offer in history, turning down Google’s $23b cashout, and deciding to, you know, just be a fucking business that makes money by producing a product that people want and selling it at a competitive price.

Normally, I’d be listing out FTC rulemakings that banned noncompetes nationwid. Or the new merger guidelines the FTC and DOJ cooked up, which – among other things – establish that the agencies should be considering whether a merger will negatively impact privacy.

I had a whole section of this stuff in my notes, a real victory lap, but I deleted it all this week.

[Can anyone guess why?]

That’s right! This week, Judge Amit Mehta, ruling for the DC Circuit of these United States of America, In the docket 20-3010 a case known as United States v. Google LLC, found that “Google is a monopolist, and it has acted as one to maintain its monopoly," and ordered Google and the DOJ to propose a schedule for a remedy, like breaking the company up.

So yeah, that was pretty fucking epic.

Now, this antitrust stuff is pretty esoteric, and I won’t gatekeep you or shame you if you wanna keep a little distance on this subject. Nearly everyone is an antitrust normie, and that's OK. But if you’re a normie, you’re probably only catching little bits and pieces of the narrative, and let me tell you, the monopolists know it and they are flooding the zone.

The Wall Street Journal has published over 100 editorials condemning FTC Chair Lina Khan, saying she’s an ineffectual do-nothing, wasting public funds chasing doomed, quixotic adventures against poor, innocent businesses accomplishing nothing

[Does anyone out there know who owns the Wall Street Journal?]

That’s right, it’s Rupert Murdoch. Do you really think Rupert Murdoch pays his editorial board to write one hundred editorials about someone who’s not getting anything done?

The reality is that in the USA, in the UK, in the EU, in Australia, in Canada, in Japan, in South Korea, even in China, we are seeing more antitrust action over the past four years than over the preceding forty years.

Remember, competition law is actually pretty robust. The problem isn’t the law, It’s the enforcement priorities. Reagan put antitrust in mothballs 40 years ago, but that elegant weapon from a more civilized age is now back in the hands of people who know how to use it, and they’re swinging for the fences.

Next up: regulation.

As the seemingly inescapable power of the tech giants is revealed for the sham it always was, governments and regulators are finally gonna kill the “one weird trick” of violating the law, and saying “It doesn’t count, we did it with an app.”

Like in the EU, they’re rolling out the Digital Markets Act this year. That’s a law requiring dominant platforms to stand up APIs so that third parties can offer interoperable services.

So a co-op, a nonprofit, a hobbyist, a startup, or a local government agency wil eventuallyl be able to offer, say, a social media server that can interconnect with one of the dominant social media silos, and users who switch to that new platform will be able to continue to exchange messages with the users they follow and groups they belong to, so the switching costs will fall to damned near zero.

That’s a very cool rule, but what’s even cooler is how it’s gonna be enforced. Previous EU tech rules were “regulations” as in the GDPR – the General Data Privacy Regulation. EU regs need to be “transposed” into laws in each of the 27 EU member states, so they become national laws that get enforced by national courts.

For Big Tech, that means all previous tech regulations are enforced in Ireland, because Ireland is a tax haven, and all the tech companies fly Irish flags of convenience.

Here’s the thing: every tax haven is also a crime haven. After all, if Google can pretend it’s Irish this week, it can pretend to be Cypriot, or Maltese, or Luxembougeious next week. So Ireland has to keep these footloose criminal enterprises happy, or they’ll up sticks and go somewhere else.

This is why the GDPR is such a goddamned joke in practice. Big tech wipes its ass with the GDPR, and the only way to punish them starts with Ireland’s privacy commissioner, who barely bothers to get out of bed. This is an agency that spends most of its time watching cartoons on TV in its pajamas and eating breakfast cereal. So all of the big GDPR cases go to Ireland and they die there.

This is hardly a secret. The European Commission knows it’s going on. So with the DMA, the Commission has changed things up: The DMA is an “Act,” not a “Regulation.” Meaning it gets enforced in the EU’s federal courts, bypassing the national courts in crime-havens like Ireland.

In other words, the “we violate privacy law, but we do it with an app” gambit that worked on Ireland’s toothless privacy watchdog is now a dead letter, because EU federal judges have no reason to swallow that obvious bullshit.

Here in the US, the dam is breaking on federal consumer privacy law – at last!

Remember, our last privacy law was passed in 1988 to protect the sanctity of VHS rental history. 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?

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 pretty big coalition for that kind of privacy law! Which is why we have seen a procession of imperfect (but steadily improving) privacy laws working their way through Congress.

If you sign up for EFF’s mailing list at eff.org we’ll send you an email when these come up, so you can call your Congressjerk or Senator and talk to them about it. Or better yet, make an appointment to drop by their offices when they’re in their districts, and explain to them that you’re not just a registered voter from their district, you’re the kind of elite tech person who goes to Defcon, and then explain the bill to them. That stuff makes a difference.

What about self-help? How are we doing on making interoperability legal again, so hackers can just fix shit without waiting for Congress or a federal agency to act?

All the action here these day is in the state Right to Repair fight. We’re getting state R2R bills, like the one that passed this year in Oregon that bans parts pairing, where DRM is used to keep a device from using a new part until it gets an authorized technician’s unlock code.

These bills are pushed by a fantastic group of organizations called the Repair Coalition, at Repair.org, and they’ll email you when one of these laws is going through your statehouse, so you can meet with your state reps and explain to the JV squad the same thing you told your federal reps.

Repair.org’s prime mover is Ifixit, who are genuine heroes of the repair revolution, and Ifixit’s founder, Kyle Wiens, is here at the con. When you see him, you can shake his hand and tell him thanks, and that’ll be even better if you tell him that you’ve signed up to get alerts at repair.org!

Now, on to the final way that we reverse enhittification and build that new, good internet: you, the tech labor force.

For years, your bosses tricked you into thinking you were founders in waiting, temporarily embarrassed entrepreneurs who were only momentarily drawing a salary.

You certainly weren’t workers. Your power came from your intrinsic virtue, not like those lazy slobs in unions who have to get their power through that kumbaya solidarity nonsense.

It was a trick. You were scammed. The power you had came from scarcity, and so when the scarcity ended, when the industry started ringing up six-figure annual layoffs, your power went away with it.

The only durable source of power for tech workers is as workers, in a union.

Think about Amazon. Warehouse workers have to piss in bottles and have the highest rate of on-the-job maimings of any competing business. Whereas Amazon coders get to show up for work with facial piercings, green mohawks, and black t-shirts that say things their bosses don’t understand. They can piss whenever they want!

That’s not because Jeff Bezos or Andy Jassy loves you guys. It’s because they’re scared you’ll quit and they don’t know how to replace you.

Time for the second obligatory William Gibson quote: “The future is here, it’s just not evenly distributed.” You know who’s living in the future?. Those Amazon blue-collar workers. They are the bleeding edge.

Drivers whose eyeballs are monitored by AI cameras that do digital phrenology on their faces to figure out whether to dock their pay, warehouse workers whose bodies are ruined in just months.

As tech bosses beef up that reserve army of unemployed, skilled tech workers, then those tech workers – you all – will arrive at the same future as them.

Look, I know that you’ve spent your careers explaining in words so small your boss could understand them that you refuse to enshittify the company’s products, and I thank you for your service.

But if you want to go on fighting for the user, you need power that’s more durable than scarcity. You need a union. Wanna learn how? Check out the Tech Workers Coalition and Tech Solidarity, and get organized.

Enshittification didn’t arise because our bosses changed. They were always that guy.

They were always yankin’ on that enshittification lever in the C-suite.

What changed was the environment, everything that kept that switch from moving.

And that’s good news, in a bankshot way, because it means we can make good services out of imperfect people. As a wildly imperfect person myself, I find this heartening.

The new good internet is in our grasp: an internet that has the technological self-determination of the old, good internet, and the greased-skids simplicity of Web 2.0 that let all our normie friends get in on the fun.

Tech bosses want you to think that good UX and enshittification can’t ever be separated. That’s such a self-serving proposition you can spot it from orbit. We know it, 'cause we built the old good internet, and we’ve been fighting a rear-guard action to preserve it for the past two decades.

It’s time to stop playing defense. It's time to go on the offensive. To restore competition, regulation, interop and tech worker power so that we can create the new, good internet we’ll need to fight fascism, the climate emergency, and genocide.

To build a digital nervous system for a 21st century in which our children can thrive and prosper.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

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/2024/08/17/hack-the-planet/#how-about-a-nice-game-of-chess

Image: https://twitter.com/igama/status/1822347578094043435/ (cropped)

@[email protected] (cropped)

https://mamot.fr/@[email protected]/112963252835869648

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.pt

#pluralistic #defcon #defcon 32 #hackers #enshittification #speeches #transcripts #disenshittify or die #Youtube

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cinellieroll · 9 months ago

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☆ random obey me headcanons part 2!

asmodeus, levi and barbatos ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: some small nsfw on asmo's part :p

small note: thank you so much for the likes and reblogs! i never expected such a large majority of people to enjoy my content so it's very dear to me. once again, thank you!

☆ asmodeus:

- kinda bad at cooking. his way of slicing and dicing vegetables is very mediocre if not clumsy looking. there are days where his cooking is acceptable and days where it's to seasoned or too bland (always convinces himself its good tho and posts it on his devilgram)

- though he's kinda bad at cooking, his baking skills are okay! his favorite pastry to make are cookies because he can design them the most.

- "ofcourse mc! you'll always be the first one to try my desserts! unless you want to taste something else?~ ♡"

- he has a collection of sanrios, hironos and sonny angels in his room. ESPECIALLY sonny angels. crazy thing is he always gets them for free from his fans and its always the limited edition ones

- he really enjoys watching old movies from the human world especially the romcoms. mean girls, notting hill, pitch perfect. he will pester you to rewatch it with him even though you guys have seen it multiple times already.

- he keeps a small jewelry box in his room but instead of jewelry its full of pics of you and him and the gifts you give him. theres some pics in there where the other brothers were cut or crossed out so it'll be just you and him lmfao

- he is a yandere and i stand by this. it's not as obvious but if he's really into you he'll constantly mark you with his scent and the stuff he wears. he'll leave a hickey or a bite mark if you're lucky ;)

- the type of guy to only bring a purse to school. if you ask for a pencil the bitch is gonna open his bag and say "oopsie! i only brought my makeup pouch and mirror today. sorry babe!"

- has his own private concert in showers every goddamn day

- he'll either fangirl with you about celebrities or he'll get extremely jealous because you're simping for someone else.

☆ levi:

- sometimes his ass crack will be on display when he's sitting down on the floor

- wears booty shorts religiously. sometimes he'll casually just walk out his room wearing a hoodie and booty shorts with prints on it

- has a tumblr account where he posts a bunch of hc, drabbles and other shit and until now no one knows its him

- had an amino and discord phase where he always roleplayed with other people. till this day it haunts him at night

- he livestreams twice a week on twitch and has been scolded by lucifer on stream once. there was also a time where mammon barged in his room half naked and suddenly all the views went up 10x

- trolls on roblox like it's a 9 to 5 job

- every once in a while he'll stay in lucifers room while lucifer is doing paperwork. he'll just lay down on his bed, watch and play games and even fall asleep

- makes his own persona in every fandom he gets into and writes very detailed backstories (dw levi, same)

- only reads "x reader" fics for obvious reasons

- went insane because human world games and animes are better than the ones in devildom. dont get me started about aot. (his favorite is levi ackerman obvi)

☆ barbatos:

- wishes he could get piercings but since he's the demon prince's butler he obviously can't

- started tweakin when you said some humans keep rats and bugs as pets. like he stopped polishing some plates and looked at you like you just dog shitted diavolo's name

- really enjoys your spotify playlist filled with metalhead and grunge songs. he really likes slipknot

- likes to order those cute, fancy tea sets when he has the time. when you gifted him tea leaves and a limited edition teapot set his love for you sky rocketed.

- gets annoyed when solomon manspreads

- has a really good voice when he sings. he used to sing diavolo lullabies when his father would get angry at him

- scrolls through levi and mammon's post for educational purposes cuz he wants to learn slangs just incase diavolo asks him what a specific word means

- "barbatos, what does 'runnin from da opps' mean?"

- "my lord, 'runnin from da opps' is a slang made by the new generation. it means fleeing from your haters."

- loves to tailor and iron his bed sheets so he can have a peaceful rest after a long day of non stop errands.

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blvckswxnji · 1 year ago

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Tramp Stamp | 🕯️🔗

❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱❦. ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ❦.♱ʚ♡ɞ♱

-xxxxx-

Pairings: [Hobie Brown x (f) Reader]

Genre: short fic, (18+)

Warnings: some strong language, smut

Summary: Hobie seems to be fan of your new tattoo…

Word Count: 1.9k

————————————————————————

It was originally an impulsive decision on your part. It had been a random Thursday afternoon, and the idea of getting a tattoo on your lower back seemed cool. And so there you were, walking into the tattoo shop, and getting that shit inked into your skin for the next hour or so. When the artist was done, you took the time to admire the beautiful line work etched into the dip of your back.

‘Oh, Hobie’s going to love this when he sees it.’ You thought, as the excitement began bubbling its way into your gut.

You weren’t going to see him until later that night so you decided it was best to take care of it until then. You weren’t going to reveal it to him right away, instead, you wanted him to discover it for himself. You knew the reaction would be worth it. For the rest of the time being, you busied yourself with miscellaneous activities to keep yourself entertained throughout the day.

When the time rolled around for his arrival, you noticed Hobie was running a bit later than usual as he still wasn’t at your place. It was getting late, so you decided on running yourself a shower to get ready for bed. With that, you grabbed your towel, and were off to the bathroom.

Hot showers were the ideal for you, and once it was at the perfect temperature you hopped in. You made sure to be mindful of your tattoo while lathering your body, and couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of the water hitting your somewhat stiff muscles. Your playlist played softly in the background as the bathroom fogged up with steam.

You had become deep within your random shower thoughts when you heard a soft thump coming from your room. You didn’t leave the shower right away as you knew it was Hobie, and were sure he heard the sound of the shower indicating where you were to him.

It wasn’t long before you were done, stepping out of the wet tub and wrapping the towel securely around your figure. After drying off your body, you quickly exited the bathroom as it started to become suffocating. You entered the room where you were met with Hobie who had laid back comfortably on your bed. Eyes closed, legs crossed and hands behind his head. He opened his eyes at the sound of the door closing behind you, smirking when he was met with the sight of you in your towel.

“Well that’s certainly a sight to be welcomed by isn’ it?” He teased, biting his lip as he sat up to make his way towards you.

You flushed at the words, shaking your head. You stood up on your toes as he stood in front of you to peck his lips, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smile at the warmth he enveloped you in.

“What took you so long?” You ask, pulling away to get dressed.

Hobie leans to sit back on your bed. His eyes never leave you as you make your way to your closet to grab a fresh set of clothing to sleep in.

“Oh ya’ know, the same old anomaly bullshit, and Miguel bein’ even more of a damn pain in my ass.” He utters nonchalantly, resting his weight on his hands.

You hum. Still aware of his lingering gaze as you walk back towards your bed.

“You gonna stare at me the whole time?” You ask with raised eyebrows, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips.

“Nothin’ I haven’t seen before right? What, you gettin’ shy love?” He tilts his head to the side teasing the question, giving you a once over.

“No.” Your answer was short. Truth be told, Hobie always knew how to fluster you up, and make you nervous. So, you swiftly move to sit at the edge of the bed and slowly unravel your towel. It sits just above the tattoo on your lower back, so Hobie couldn’t see it just yet. Although, his heavy gaze followed your every move. The cool air hits your upper body immediately and you shiver as a result.

You tug on the cami you picked out, the hem halting just above your midriff, followed by a fresh pair of underwear you slipped on under the towel.

“Sure you’re not.” You defeatedly roll your eyes at that, reaching for your shorts. Standing up, you feel the cool air graze your lower body as the towel slips completely from your form. Although you couldn’t see it, the sharp breath of air that resonated behind you was all you needed to know what Hobie looked like. Still, you pretend not to notice, playing coy.

“Whatever Hobie,” you comment, turning to face him, “wanna watch a movie or something?” You ask, climbing up your bed to hover over him with a smile on your face. You lean in to peck his lips expecting a response, but your movement is suddenly halted as you feel two strong hands grab at your hips, and spin you so that your back is facing him again. You let out a yelp, losing your balance at the sudden movement with your side coming in contact with your mattress.

With not much time to process what was happening, you’re then pushed to lay on your stomach, followed up by the hem of your shorts being pulled down slightly to reveal your full tattoo.

“When were you gonna tell me about this hm?” His voice is low when he asks. His thumb tracing the intricate lines dancing across your skin as he examines the ink. The proximity of his body as he lifts his head to pry you of an answer makes you shiver a bit.

You turn your head to face him, his face inches from yours as his eyes darken.

“Oh this? Got it done earlier, thought you’d like it.” You smirk. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“What, you like it?” You ask him already knowing the answer.

He smirks with hooded eyes as he glances back down at the tattoo, gripping the side of your hip even harder before moving his hand down lower to grasp your ass.

You gasp softly at the feeling.

He leans into your ear. So much so, that his lips caress the shell, creating a tingling sensation across your body.

“Love it so much on you, I want to see it with no clothes on.” He whispers as he tugs at the hem of your shorts to pull them down even further.

You blush at the statement as he begins to lay kisses to your neck. “Hobie I just got dressed, and I just came from the shower.” It was a half-hearted plea, as he continued his motions that made your body heat up in anticipation.

“Shoulda’ thought about that before you got dressed babe.” He quipped, creating bruises on the soft skin of your neck as he moved to hover over you.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer to you, threading your fingers in his hair as you move to kiss his lips passionately. “Or maybe I did, and just wanted you to undress me yourself.” You say, looking up at him through your lashes, a hint of mischief in your eyes.

Hobie looks down at you with a smirk on his face. He doesn’t say anything as he leans closer to you, hand traveling under your cami and up towards your breast. High just enough to where his thumb could caress the underside of it.

“In that case, I’m glad to do the honors then.” He mutters before smashing his lips to yours. You would never get enough of how warm they were, and the cold sensation his piercings created when meshed with your lips.

Hobie grabbed the hem of your shirt, breaking away from the kiss to pull it over your head, rendering you nude from the waist up. His hands immediately grabbed at both of your breasts, fingers tweaking at the hardened nipples making your back arch off the bed and into him. He always knew how sensitive they were when you were aroused and it only made him want to pleasure you more.

You feel his hand travel down the length of your back, moving his hand to squeeze the side of your hip before flipping you over once again.

“Swear, you’re gonna give me whiplash if you keep doing that.” You complain as you turn your head to face him.

He grins at your reaction, “relax babe, nothin’ you can’t handle.” He says, pulling your backside up to his front, against his hips.

Hobie then makes quick work of removing his shirt, followed by the removal of your bottoms leaving you completely exposed. His hand runs down the expanse of your back, stopping at the ink that decorated the skin of your lower back.

“It’s so beautiful, can’t wait to see it as I ravish you.” He mutters lightly, making you whimper softly at the words. The next thing you know, you feel his soft lips kiss the dip of your back. You feel them as they drag across your skin, going lower and lower. You shudder when you feel his nose eventually brush against your folds, causing you to moan into your pillow.

“Shit.” You whisper against the fabric as you feel his tongue begin to explore your opening.

“You always taste so good f’me sweetheart.” You blush at his praise. “I need to fuck you right now.” He breathes airily.

“Please Hobie, I need you.” You beg.

It wasn’t long after that you found said man railing into you from behind. Arms behind your arched back, face smothered into the sheets, and loud moans falling from your lips.

The sheer force that Hobie’s hips subjected you to, turned your brain into mush. The sound of skin slapping emitting all throughout the room, while both of your bodies became slick in a thin layer of sweat.

You felt as if your body was going to give out with the rate you two were going at, and Hobie could tell. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. Not when with each slam of his hips, he would be rewarded with the sight of your tattoo rippling in tandem with your skin. The way it moved as he drove himself deeper and deeper into your cunt, drove him insane.

It was just so hot to him.

“Fuck Hobie, I’m gonna come.” You yell, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening with each thrust.

“Shit, I’m close too.” He utters practically out of breath. He reaches for your neck to pull you up so your back is to his chest. “Come for me baby.” He says, whispering in your ear, thrusting faster.

With that, you are finally pushed to the edge as the coil in your stomach snaps and you come undone on him.

You throw your head back in pure ecstasy, stars clouding your vision behind your eyelids as your moans fill the room. Hobie’s not far behind you as you hear a pleasured groan escape his lips and feel warm liquid fill your walls.

You feel Hobie drop his head onto your shoulder, breathing rapidly as he comes down from his high. Hot breath tickling your neck, before he sets the both of you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lay like that for a while, waiting for your bodies to cool down. His fingers softly tracing the outlines of the inked design etched in your back.

You lean into his touch, not wanting the small moment to end as it all was too perfect of a feeling.

You shuffle onto your other side to face him, cupping his jaw and bringing your lips to his in a soothing kiss. Breaking away you smirk at him.

“M’ guessing you liked it then?”

————————————————————————

I’m so glad I got this done lmao this whole week has been so tiring for me so I’m sry for the delay. Hope y’all enjoyed! <3

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader smut #atsv #atsv fanfiction #atsv imagines #atsv smut #fanfic #astv x reader

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strwberri-milk · 7 months ago

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Midnight Blues

Rafayel x Reader || Mild Insomnia, Comfort || 1 184 words

a/n: my toxic trait is pretending im a singer and compiling songs into albums and naming them and midnight blue is the name of the hypothetical album that encapsulates falling in love with rafayel and i guess i could make a playlist bc thats the normal thing to do but i just name fanficitions after them ig. also this is based off his treasure secret time - idgaf about the mensturation i only care about the fact that hums your ass to rest and the lore drop that is rafayel calling you at night when the two of you first start met bc it would help you sleep

You can hardly remember what nights were like before without the sound of his voice in your ears.

You sigh as you sink into your bed, staring up at the ceiling after doing another quick lap around the house to try and tire yourself out. Your body is tired, you know it is. You just wish that you could sleep, not at all excited about the prospect of having to go to work tomorrow after being unable to sleep all night.

You’re about to start your nightly routine of tossing and turning when your phone suddenly starts to ring. A smile makes its way onto your face as you recognise the caller ID, putting your phone against your ear and humming lightly to alert the other side to your presence.

“You’re still awake, huh?” Rafayel’s teasing tone asks through the phone. The two haven’t known each other long but that didn’t seem to bother Rafayel in the slightest.

“Yeah,” you sigh, putting your phone on speaker next to you on the pillow.

All it took was falling asleep one time in a conversation with him for Rafayel to pounce on that and decide to take advantage of it. You swore up and down that it was a mistake, that it wasn’t because of Rafayel that you fell asleep but deep down you know that something about that silky smooth timbre of his voice made your worries go away. You’d never slept so soundly, mortified at the teasing text that he sent you when you read it in the morning.

However, you had to admit defeat and let the man do whatever he wanted. Even before you met him it was clear that Rafayel didn’t care much for whatever the people around him want. He does as he pleases and now, it seems that he’s convinced you won’t sleep without him talking to you.

“If you wanted me to call you all you had to do was ask,” he says after a while, letting you get settled in bed.

“I’m grown. I can take care of myself,” you reply, Rafayel imagining a slight pout on your features as you did so.

“Ah, I see. So you don’t need me to talk you to sleep then? I’ll hang up then.”

“Wait!” you shout quickly, shooting out of bed and grabbing your phone.

“Don’t…don’t go. Please?”

“Begging now? I guess if you’re that desperate for my company I’ll give it to you.”

You can hear how smug he is, rolling your eyes at how obvious his tells are. You wonder how Thomas hasn’t figured him out yet – Rafayel isn’t nearly as sneaky as he seems to think he is.

“Are you driving?” you ask after a second, settled back into bed again and listening carefully to his end of the call.

“I’m heading back from an exhibition. I could have booked a hotel but I didn’t feel like staying the night there so I’m making the long drive home. I called you to see if you’d keep me company.”

You tug your blankets around yourself, losing yourself in their warmth as you yawn. The exhaustion begins to sit on your shoulders again but this time, it feels more manageable. His voice swims around your head as he starts rambling about the exhibition. You’re glad to hear that it went off without a hitch, having declined his invitation yourself due to a more urgent task of the day.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, bringing your attention back to him.

“Hmm? Yeah, sellers bullying you, people hitting on you, same old same old,” you mumble, burying yourself further into your bed.

“If you didn’t like it that much, why didn’t you just make something up to get out of it?”

“I couldn’t bail on Thomas again. I felt bad for him constantly fielding off journalists and this show was supposedly a big deal so I decided to do him a favour. Plus, I blew off all the shows so far this month so I might as well make myself seen at a more important one.”

Leave it to Rafayel to make doing his job seem like a favour to someone else. Even if he acts like he’s got his head in the clouds you know he’s genuinely kind – if you’ve got the patience to go digging through the layers that make up the enigmatic artist. You feel thankful that the world brought you to him, even if you weren’t sure what the budding feeling in your chest is.

“You had a long day, huh? I can hear it in your voice.”

You give him another hum, not wanting to bother with any words.

“Even if I ask you a question you don’t need to reply. It’s getting late and I won’t be home for at least another hour. I really did just want your company you know. I’m glad that you answered my call. It would have been miserable if I had to drive home all alone.”

It doesn’t take Rafayel much time to start rambling at you again. You don’t know how he manages to find anything and everything to say to you and keep himself entertained, laughing at his own jokes and taking the soft noises you make as jumping off points to completely go on a new tangent.

When he hears your light snores and steady breathing, he smiles to himself. The sound of your breath surrounds him in his car and if he weren’t such a responsible driver, he’d close his eyes just to pretend that he’s laying in bed with you.

Normally, Rafayel was perfectly content driving home in silence, finding the long expanse of road the perfect opportunity to ground himself after all of the cameras and people in his face. Honestly, he only left when he did to make sure he’d be able to call you at the same time he did every night. Your inability to sleep well worried him and even if you didn’t fully understand the extent of his feelings towards you, he wouldn’t let that get in the way of taking care of you. You make him happy after all, especially when he hears you try to rouse yourself from sleep in a desperate attempt to show him that you’re listening to him. The mental image of your sleepy eyes trying to focus on his face makes his heart melt, impatiently tapping his finger against the steering wheel at the annoyance of being unable to call you his just quite yet.

Even when he gets home, he doesn’t hang up on you. He’s careful to do his nightly routine quietly, using the sound of your breathing as his favourite symphony and he settles down for the night himself. He even continues to speak to you softly, wanting to make sure that his voice lulls you into a truly restful slumber. He thinks about you a lot and being able to help you in any form always makes his heart feel so full.

He won’t admit that talking to you on these late nights makes him sleep well too, putting his phone on the pillow beside him before falling asleep to thoughts of you.

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #lads x reader #lads rafayel #lads rafayel x reader #lnd rafayel

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d1s1ntegrated · 5 months ago

Note

can you do headcanons of shigaraki x reader who is goth with a strong, intelligent personality?

also, what do you think his type is? for some reason i feel like he’s more drawn into alternative ppl 🤭

shigaraki is a goth girl fanatic, i know this bc he is my husband and i am goth.

anyways!

shigaraki x alt!gf hcs! (some nsfw) ╭-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╮

shiggy most def loves anything alternative

i mean, he's chronically online, all certified gamer boys need their goth gf/bf/so

goth, emo, scene, metal, alt, etc

has a soft spot for specifically lip and brow piercings, but digs a good old fashioned nose ring or two

he listens to metalcore/numetal a lot

thigh/ass guy for sure, so thicc goths>>>>

was shocked when u of all people wanted him

literally his fantasies came true. he was so ecstatic

actually prefers smart people. he needs someone who understands him, but also can help him rationalize his thoughts

or calm him down when he's off a bean

he wont show that though, he's gotta be the best person in the room at all times

"you're stupid as fuck, stop talking" (drooling)

"shut the fuck up and just sit pretty for me" (cumming)

asks you for help in secret bc his ego is too big around everyone else

likes when you're outspoken and witty, enjoys the challenge honestly

"step on me" (joking. unless??)

loves to watch you do your makeup, especially eyeliner

"can you do that thing where like....? where it looks like it's running? and messy? i dont fucking care what it's called just do that"

"fine, i'll do it myself" (horny)

big t-shirt x little skirt or shorts >>>>> yeah he fucks w that

also really likes tights. he fantasizes ab ripping fishnets w his teeth

u let him do it once, ofc

likes geeking out ab metal/emo bands w u

he specifically rlly likes slipknot, bullet for my valentine, loathe, orgy, the used, soad, and falling in reverse (some of his music taste is lowk toxic but its okay cause hes hot)

"i made you a spotify playlist"

fucks like a GOD if you're in a skirt. like he just fucking folds and worships you

"no no keep it on"

he loves having scary dog privileges

"this is my girlfriend and she will eat you. fuck off"

loves tattoos. like LOVES. wants some of his own. (besides the shitty stick and pokes on his wrist from spinner)

he has piercings too: his nose, snakebites, gauges, nipples (dabi convinced him for that one, he doesn't hate it)

his fav movie is sleepy hollow

and edward scissorhands

he relates a lot to that movie actually ;-; cutie baby

╰-°—✞—˚✧❨✧˚—✞—°-╯

this was obv one of my fav ones to do, for no particular reason

thank u for the ask fellow goth babe <3 mwah

#bnha #mha #tomura shigaraki #my hero academia #mha shigaraki #tenko shimura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons #myposts #myhcs

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callsign-muffin · 3 months ago

Text

Heal Together: Chapter 4

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

This chapter came together super fast, I'm a little shocked! Next on my to do list is to make a masterlist, so that all parts are easily accessible. If time permits, I really want to make a playlist. I just love making playlists!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k+

Rooster finished his song behind the piano, surrounded by his friends who were all singing along. The whole bar burst into applause and cheers.

You clapped slowly, still staring in disbelief. He looked so great, so healthy, so… handsome.

Carly nudged you, snapping you out of your haze, “If you two don’t stop staring at each other and say ‘hello’, I’ll drag his ass over here!”

You shook your head, “I have a rule about seeing patients in the wild, I don’t acknowledge them unless they acknowledge me first.”

“But this former patient is sooooo hot!” Madi swooned.

Sam scanned the people surrounding Rooster at the piano, “And so are his friends…”

You and Bradley locked eyes again.

Hi. He mouthed to you.

Hey. You mouthed back.

A smile spread across his face and he slowly stood up from the piano bench, breezing past his friends, and swaggered towards you and the girls.

“Oh my god, he’s coming!” Sam squealed under her breath.

Carly shushed her, “Shut up and be cool!”

“What is my favorite nurse doing at my favorite bar?” Bradley posted up in front of you and winked.

You shifted your weight, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, “The youngins on the unit bullied me into coming out.”

He looked over at them, “Oh hey, night nurse.”

Carly laughed, “Oh hey, night patient. Staying out of trouble?”

He shrugged, “I mean, I’d fuck around and get hospitalized if my favorite nurse was there to take care of me.”

“Please don’t do that, Bradshaw.” You rolled your eyes.

“I promise I’ll be good if you let me buy you a drink.” He smirked, glancing towards the bar.

Before you could argue, Carly answered for you, “She would love that! Thank you, Lt. Bradshaw.”

You turned and glared at her.

“Wanna lead the way?” Bradley suggested.

You pursed your lips, he was so cute! “Well alright!”

As you and Bradley walked away from the girls, you could feel them silently celebrating behind you.

“So are you chaperoning a field trip?” Bradley chuckled as the two of you stood outside on the deck that faced the beach. The only thing illuminating the dark sky was the moon and its reflection on the water.

You snorted, “Is it that obvious I’m the old lady?”

“Oh no, it’s obvious that those girls look like they just graduated high school.” He explained and looked over at you, “you look like a grown ass woman.”

“Nice save.” You softly punched his arm playfully, an electrical current ignited all throughout your body as soon as you touched him. Woah.

You wondered if Bradley could tell the feelings that just came over you, he was beaming at you. “It’s clear that they love and respect the shit outta you. Especially Carly, the child.”

You sputtered, “Oh my god, I forgot you called her that!”

He chuckled, “I still can’t believe she’s old enough to a be a nurse.”

“I can tell you this now since you’re no longer under her care,” you prefaced, “But she’s like brand new. She’s only been a nurse for like 3 months, she’s fresh off of her orientation. All those girls are.”

”And you’ve adopted them all?” He asked.

You shrugged, “They adopted me, more so. There’s a big culture of ‘nurses eat their young’. Basically meaning that like older nurses are really shitty to new nurses as a way of breaking them in and toughening them up.”

Bradley nodded, “Sounds familiar.”

“I, however, don’t agree with that.” You explained, “I think it instills insecurity with their skills and clinical judgment. It also makes them less likely to ask for help when they’re in over their heads. So I go out of my way to be a resource for these new nurses. And I’ve grown very fond of them in the process.”

He smiled, “Maybe if I had someone like you in the Navy, I’d be a colonel by now.”

“Maybe you could be that for someone else.” You suggested.

“ROOOOOOOOOSTERRRRRR!” Two tall, buff, tipsy men stood at the window calling for their friend.

He looked at them, then looked at you, “I think those idiots are beyond help.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster and Y/N re-entered the bar to join his friends around the pool table.

“Hey guys, this is Y/N.” Bradley introduced her, “She was my nurse in the ICU.”

Phoenix's eyes widened, “Oh! The hot one?”

Y/N choked on your drink then looked up at Bradley, who was red as a lobster.

“Yes, Phoenix…” he sighed, “The best nurse I’ve ever seen do the damn job.”

Hangman sauntered up and held out his hand, “Name’s Hangman. How about you come take care of me, Honey?”

She couldn’t help but audibly gag, “That is the worst pick up line to ever use on a nurse, dude. Instant ick.”

Rooster smirked. She was smart, pretty, and completely saw through Hangman’s bullshit. What a woman.

“Hey, I’m Bob.” Bob greeted her, “Thanks so much for taking care of Rooster.”

“Of course, he was a wonderful patient.” She then looked up at Bradley again, “Why do they call you Rooster?”

“Cuz he’s got a big—“ Payback started to say but Bradley reached over and covered his mouth to shut him up.

“It’s my callsign, what I go by in the air as a pilot.” He explained, “We all have one. They’re given to us during training, usually it starts out as someone clowning you and it just sticks.”

She nodded, “Interesting… you’re more of a Bradley to me though.”

Eventually Carly, Sam, and Madi made their way over to the group of aviators as well. Hangman looked a little too excited to see three hot young things. He was starting to get real close and touchy with Madi.

“How old is she?” Rooster asked Carly.

“Twenty two.” Carly chirped.

He took his head and walked over to the flirty pair mumbling to himself, “Absolutely the fuck not.”

Y/N kind of loved that he was protective over the girls. “Glad he got in the middle of them before I had to.”

“It’s giving Mom and Dad.” Sam giggled.

She rolled your eyes, “It’s giving… you’re reading way too far into this.”

“Y/N, come get your patient!” Madi pouted walking back to the group with Rooster, “He’s a cock block.”

“They don’t call him Rooster for nothing.” Carly held up her drink, pretending to cheers.

“Ooooh, good one.” Phoenix prompted a high-five and Carly gladly accepted.

Y/N scooted in closer to Bradley when he stood beside her. He so desperately wanted to drape his arm around her shoulder, to make her feel as safe as she made him feel in the hospital. But he was… nervous. He didn’t want to scare away the angelic figure that he had been daydreaming about for the past two weeks.

Somehow, Bradley ended the night with three drunk 22 year olds in the back of his vintage Bronco and Y/N in the front seat.

“If one of them throws up in your car, I’ll pay for it to be cleaned.” She whispered to him.

He scoffed, “No, need to worry about it. It wouldn’t be the first time these seats have been christened with vomit.”

She looked back at the girls, still with a concerned look on her face as they giggled and slurred.

He placed his hand over hers and a surge of electricity shot through his entire body.

Y/N then looked over at him and gave him a soft smile, “Thank you for staying sober enough to drive.”

Bradley winked, “I was planning on it, wouldn’t have driven myself to the bar if I was planning on having more than a beer or two.”

“I guess DUIs are probably frowned upon in the Navy.”

He chuckled, “I mean yes, but many seamen straight outta boot camp still get them… it’s a lot of fucking paperwork.”

“Y/N… he said semen!” Sam leaned forward in her seat and giggled, making all three young girls burst into hysterical laughter.

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle too, though she tried to hide it.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile to himself as he turned into the parking lot of the apartment complex that your phone was navigating him to.

“This is you girls.” Rooster looked back at the silly trio, “You all roommates?”

Carly shook her head, “Noooo, we’re having a sleepover!”

“Ooh, very nice.” He nodded, trying not to laugh at the girls too much as they stumbled out of the truck.

Sam straightened herself up at waved to Bradley from the curb, “Thanks Dad!”

“Thanks Dad!” The other two echoed, making Bradley laugh.

Y/N shooed them away, “Go to bed! Maybe give each other IVs in the morning if you feel bad.”

The girls stumbled into the building, “Okay Mom!”

She watched them and made sure they were safely inside before turning back to Bradley, “Sorry about them.”

He waved it off, “They’re a trip, I’m happy to be able to help you get them home safely.”

“May I?” She reached for the AUX cord that was hooked up to the updated radio system. It juxtaposed the vintage feel of the rest of the Bronco, but it was a necessity for Bradley to easily jam out.

“Be my guest.”

“What do you like to listen to?”

He looked over at her and smirked, “is it too ironic for me to say Dad Rock?”

She burst into laughter. Oh god, how Bradley’s heart soared when he heard that beautiful sound. Once she caught her breath, Y/N plugged in her phone. “Have I got the playlist for you!”

The intro to Up Around the Bend by Creedence Clearwater Revival started to play through his speakers.

“Oh hell yeah!” He bobbed his head to the beat and turned up the volume, “I love CCR!”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Bradley drummed his palms against the steering wheel to the beat of And She Was by Talking Heads as he pulled up in front of your apartment. He idled there for a moment before shifting into park.

You sighed… This is so inappropriate. But you desperately wanted to shoot your shot…

He looked over at her, “I just… I can’t believe I saw you again… It doesn’t feel real.”

“Do you wanna come inside?” You blurted out, possibly a little too loud.

He perked up, completely surprised. “Uh yeah. Yeah! I would love to!” He shifted his car into drive and found a guest parking space for the Bronco.

You started to reach for your door handle but Bradley stopped you, “Don’t you dare touch that door.”

You blushed, remembering how he scolded you earlier in the parking lot of the Hard Deck for the same thing.

He got out of the car, walked around to your door, and opened it for you.

“An officer and a gentleman.” You winked at him as you climbed out.

He offered you a hand for assistance, “Now you’re gettin’ it.”

You accepted, placing your hand in his— again that feeling of electricity jolted through you.

He gestured for you to walk ahead of him, “Lead the way.”

You began to ramble as the two of you walked to your building, “So I’m not much of a beer drinker but I do have seltzers, wine, liquor, and all kinds of mixers. Don’t feel like you have to take anything if you don’t want it though. I can also put a pizza in the oven—“

You were interrupted by a large hand on your shoulder, again with the electric feeling.

“That all sounds wonderful.” Bradley said sweetly, “Please don’t make a fuss over me.”

You sighed, “Sorry, can’t help it. I get nervous.”

“You don’t need to be nervous with me.”

“So was I correct in hearing that you told the girls to do IVs on each other in the morning?” Bradley questioned polishing off the last sip of his glass of wine.

You promptly refilled his glass and your own, finishing the bottle you opened together. “You are correct.”

“What the fuck?” He was absolutely tipsy now.

“Obviously we don’t do it often,” you explained, “But after a night out, you feel crappy and dehydrated… give yourself a bag of IV fluid and you’re golden for the day. Nurses have actually made businesses out of going to people’s houses and giving them.”

Rooster was so shook by the information he was receiving, “Where do you get the stuff?!”

“I’ve collected some from hospitals over my time working there. As I said, I don’t do it often but… it’s nice to have on hand.” You shrugged.

He smirked, “What are the odds I can get you to give me an IV sometime?”

You laughed, “Bradshaw, I gave you tons of IV fluids two weeks ago!”

“That’s different, I was a patient!” He sipped his wine, “That’s not as fun as getting drunk and having one the next morning.”

You scanned his arms, “I mean… ya do have some great veins.”

He looked down at his arms, “I have never had anyone tell me that before, especially not so sensually.”

You burst out laughing, “Sorry! Good veins are like Nurse Porn. We love them.”

Bradley shook his head, “The more I learn about this profession, the weirder it gets. First you’re telling me about older nurses eating their young; now you’re telling me you all are into vein porn!”

Your laughing continued until your stomach started to hurt. It has been a really long time since you laughed this hard. You looked over and caught him smiling at you, “What?”

“You have a great laugh,” he explained, “I remember the first time I heard it. You were talking to me while I was intubated and drugged up.”

“You remember that?” You asked in disbelief.

He nodded, “How could I forget the first time I felt human in that place?”

You placed your hand over his, this time instead of electricity, there was a wave of calm with your touch.

He turned his hand so that his palm was up and holding yours, “You made me feel like I could actually get better.”

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x you #top gun fic #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley rooster bradshaw fluff

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