#not to mention how many people were using their platforms for good

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

I just. Like fuck dude. 170 million users and it's gone. Like if you're someone who gloats about not using tiktok this post isn't for you so scroll on.

But like tiktok for all its flaws was incredibly useful for me and others. I learned about what maladaptive daydreaming was on tiktok and realized I'd been doing it constantly for escapism and how terribly it was impacting my life. I learned all sorts of fun recipes to try out and incorporate into my meal rotation. I learned about plasma donation as a source of supplementing my income and how it's not as scary as most people make it seem. I got tips on buying a new car and how not to screwed over with financing. I learned little ways to improve my cats' health and what to avoid for them and easy enrichment ideas. I found cheap outlet websites to buy overflow clearance items for cheaper than in store and save some money. I got an insight into how fucked the healthcare system is from the doctor's perspective and how to best handle that if I wanna go into that field. I found tons of fun music, movies, tv shows, anime, books, manga, video games, and crafts to try.

And it's all gone. Just like that.

This fucking sucks.

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[gothicfied]

Nam-gyu / Player 124 Headcanons

Pairing: Nam-gyu / Player 124 x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots, drug use/heroin use (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

જ⁀➴ Walking down these strangely colorful stairs, with the equally strange backgroud music being the only thing that filled the silence between all the surviving players, made you feel like throwing up. You just witnessed people literally die right in front of you, shot for the smallest movement. If it wasn't for the adrenalin pumping throughout your body, you sure as hell wouldn't have survived either.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jolt. "Woah," Player 124, according to his jacket, stopped in his tracks when you did, too, holding up his hands in a defensive manner, "sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." While you just looked at him annoyed, a grin started to form on his lips: "What? Just wanted to know if you're okay. You scared or something?"

જ⁀➴ From then on Nam-gyu refused to leave you alone, constantly teasing you about your, very valid, fear and distress. No insults, no nothing made him stop - no - the purple haired junkie egged him on. After some time you just started to ignore him, or at least tried to. For whatever reason, Nam-gyu was very touchy with everybody, but especially you. He dragged, grabbed and shook you by your shoulders like a ragdoll when talking to you, sometimes weirdly rubbing over your back in an almost comforting way.

જ⁀➴ He'd purposefully walk past your bed to hush a quick "Good night." before lights out, often times observing you in the golden light of the piggy bank that was the only dim light source at night. Seeing you struggle to find some rest made him chuckle to himself, knowing that he had the same problem, too.

જ⁀➴ Before the first voting, he'd grab you by your arm, trying to charm you into voting in favor of the games. It was almost like he was able to sense that you wanted to quit, but it should've been blatantly obvious. Only someone with a death wish would want to continue this. Maybe he had one, after all. Once, you noticed from afar how he was nagging Thanos to give him one of those colored pills, drugs, pushing the sleeve of his right arm up to reveal the inside of his elbow. From your distance, you couldn't quite make out what he was showing him, but you assumed it were heroin marks. Well, now you kinda felt bad for him.

જ⁀➴ You weren't quite sure what to think of him. Nam-gyu would often bite around his fingernails, tug his sleeves over his hands, since this place was deathly cold sometimes, and stress over many things you also stressed about. Noticing you two weren't all that different after all, you warmed up to the idea of interacting with him.

જ⁀➴ Obviously, it couldn't all go the way you wanted it to. Not being affiliated with anyone around here proved itself to be a much greater problem during the mingle.

As soon as the spinning platform everyone tried to balance themselves on stopped along the music, the female announced the number: "Ten!". Immediately players started to scramble and hurry to find themselves a group, a group of men almost running you over. Fear, stress, anxiety, dread - You felt all of it at once. The clock was ticking down and all you could is stand there and look around you, already accepting your fate. But, apparently, the universe said no: A hand quickly grabbed you by your arm, forcefully pulling you with them. You were slammed against the wall of one of the small rooms as the door shut behind you, the timer reaching zero almost directly after. "What the fuck were you thinking? Seriously? Why did you just stand there?" it was Nam-gyu who was yelling at you, keeping you pinned against the wall by your shoulders. "Do you wanna get yourself killed?" You stared up at him, with a kind of offended expression, and he just stared back. In fact, all other eight players were staring at you two. Noticing the deafening silence, Nam-gyu turned his head around to Thanos, who just raised an eyebrow. "What? We need more people to vote 'O' anyway."

જ⁀➴ You felt like you owed him something now. Picking away at some of the kimbap you couldn't bring your to eat anymore, you scanned the dorm area for Nam-gyu. He was surprisingly alone for a moment, Thanos being off to bother someone else with whatever problem he came up with now.

Hesitantly, you took quick steps towards Nam-gyu's bed, coming to a halt right in front of it. He saved your life, the least you could do was give him some of your food that was being handed out to you players pretty sparsely. Feeling your presence behind him, he tucked a few strands of his hair behind his ears, not even needing to turn around to know it was you. "What is it?" Perhaps he was a bit embarrassed because of that moment after all. You sat down next to him on the, pretty uncomfortable mattress, handing him the rest of your food you wrapped back up in the aluminum foil. Just a quick moment of eye contact was enough for him to understand that you were really grateful for what he did back there.

જ⁀➴ If the guards wouldn't let you use the bathroom, claiming this late at night no one would be able to, Nam-gyu would be the one to come over to the door, hammering against the glass and demand that they let you in. "Come on, she's a woman," he'd exclaim, "have some decency." And when the door finally opened, you'd give him a smile. An actual, honest one.

જ⁀➴ It's as if Nam-gyu lived for that. Your smile, your small acts of gratefulness after he saved your life. You've grown on him - he'd even understand it if you'd continue to vote against resuming the games. Thinking about you being able to live your life to the fullest made him happy, even if he didn't understand that feeling quite yet.

[occamstfs]

Start-Up

Gabriel hates the start-up he works for. Though this morning it seems there are more immediate things he should be concerned with as men something strange begins to change men around the world.

Couldn't let all these other authors have all this fun without me! Here's my own take on the theme of Viral Transformation! Now I did muddy the waters a bit by setting my virus story at a social media start up but I think it works haha! Do check out the stories by all the other amazing writers who took part!!! -Occam

There was something strange going on in the city today and Gabriel wasn’t quite sure what the cause was. It’s not like there’s a commotion or anything, on the contrary; the streets were quiet but there was just something sinister in the air. He works for a new social media start-up in the wake of most of the big platforms collapsing, succinctly named Web. Gabriel didn’t have a ton of faith in the app and was growing increasingly tired of dealing with the CEO’s inane demands but hey, as long as checks keep clearing.

Reuben’s, said CEO’s, most recent crusade was banning the use of any competing sites or networks on company property, which unfortunately includes Gabriel’s personal devices. Who knew start-ups could be so draconian, though when the rich boy in charge has a fleet of lawyers and the lowly programmer just needs to make ends meet that’s how it goes it seems. All this to say, Web is thus far incredibly unsuccessful as a news platform and poor Gabriel is unable to see the chaos going on in the city behind closed doors as he walks into work.

The programmer artfully misses chyrons scrolling past telling all men to stay indoors and not to make unnecessary journeys as he mindlessly scrolls on the app he has spent countless hours producing. “Ugh.” Gabriel rolls his eyes as he sees post after post from thoughtless gym bros. Reuben swears this is a massive demographic for them but the programmer has constantly spoken up to the contrary. What could they possibly gain by making yet another platform for men who could barely read. Any indulgence or encouragement towards this demographic was sure to push away more reasonable, serious people.  

Eyes still glued to his phone in search of any shred of news, Gabriel doesn’t notice the state of the receptionist as he wanders past to take the elevator up to the office, “Morning Ron.” Only after a few seconds with no response does the coder finally tear his eyes away to see the young man in quite a disheveled state. He chokes back a gasp as he sees Ron quickly remove the hand that was shoved in his pants as he too only just notices the presence of his fellow man, “UHH Morning Gabe- I was just uhhh, getting something out of my pocket?” His rapid movement sends the sound of fabric tearing through the air as whatever remains of the button up he was wearing falls in pieces to the floor.

Desperate to put this encounter behind himself Gabriel mashes the close door button in the elevator. “Ron can’t have been masturbating just now.” he assures his reflection in the elevator doors. “He’s a good kid, smart kid.” He says of the man maybe five years his junior. Still, at the very least Gabriel is surprised that he came to work wearing clothes that clearly didn’t fit? He can’t help but summon the intimate look at Ron’s body he just received and can’t imagine how the receptionist bulked up so quickly? He can’t think of a single occasion of Ron mentioning going to the gym. 

Elevator clicking ever upwards he figures Reuben must be to blame, first he wants lunkheads using our app and then he convinces employees to waste time at the gym. Ah! That stupid gym! Gabriel punches a fist into his own palm as in the back of his mind he remembers the CEO taking up valuable office space to create a company gym for any employees to make use of. One of the many ‘benefits’ of working on Web. “God I hate startups.”

The elevator doors clink open and Gabriel exits to find the office space seems to be a ghost town. No one is using cubicles and he only sees a few of his fellow department heads have made it in so far. He grumbles to himself, “God-damnit if today could have been work from home I’m leaving now…” Despite his irritation, he enters his office and immediately starts getting to work. Waiting on his desk is a short list of suggestions on how to improve the platform from Rueben, which he promptly discards with little ado. Checking his own to-do list for the day he finds a one on one scheduled with one of the few coworkers he actually respects, Alexander Blainely, head of marketing. 

Most of the other executives were yes men, but Alexander seems to have an actual head on his shoulders. Gabriel always finds their meetings far more stimulating and productive than most other drudgery that goes on in this office. Returning into the open workspace, Gabriel shivers as he feels something in the air yet again. Completely unplaceable, it’s almost certainly nothing, but he remains on edge. His discomfort only grows as he nears his friend’s office and his hitherto directionless uneasiness finds a source. Hearing somethin a little more than disconcerting he whispers under his breath, “what the fuck? Is that moaning?” 

Barely audible when he shuts the door of his own office and wanders into the otherwise silent suite, it increases in volume with each step towards that of Alexander’s quarters. Gabriel grits his teeth and rages in his own mind for trusting anyone in this god-forsaken venture to treat their job with a shred of dignity. Arriving at the door and confirming that the man is clearly exerting himself somehow with a clear disregard to decency in their shared workspace, Gabriel scrunches his face and takes a deep breath. Hesitating at the thought of catching someone he had thought was a compatriot in flagrante delicto, his ire overcomes his usual prudence and he barges in. Never could he be prepared for the sight that awaited him.

Alexander sits on his work desk masturbating with his eyes closed as he rapturously traces over a muscular body that Gabriel flat out knows he has never had before today. Tongue lolling out of his mouth and dripping with drool as if he were a dog, Gabriel can’t help but loose a gasp as he sees with every pump of his cock, with every fervent breath and heady gasp from Alex, his body is continuing to change. 

Seconds pass and his skin browns with an unnatural tan under the LED lights in his office. Meanwhile he continues to surge larger, biceps already larger than when Gabriel stumbled in, the head of marketing’s shoulders pack on muscle as his neck thickens and his whole torso widens with strength. Thighs bulge meatier as his cock quivers higher, stretching inches further into the air as his already massive balls pulse larger. Gabriel’s gasp announcing his presence, the masturbating man opens his eyes and, almost as if it were a defense mechanism he loses control and cums.

Gabriel can’t tear his eyes away from the titan at the moment of his release. Every already massive muscle on his body expands as veins bulge out from the clear stress of the transformation. As load after load shoots out in inhumanly quick succession, Gabriel freezes as he sees facial hair and body hair that somehow already looks shaved begins to decorate his beyond masculine form. Sweat glistening off the man’s sculpted body makes him aware of the aura of musk that has clearly been filling this room, one that is impossibly similar to the general malaise that he has been assailing his senses all morning. Finally realizing what is happening in front of him, Gabriel slams the door shut and sprints down the hall, accompanied by nothing but his own gasps of exertion. 

He doesn’t take a second to think until he’s safe back in the sanctum of his office. The only place since this morning where he hasn’t felt the dreadful haze that he only just became totally aware of. Hopefully safe here, he allows himself a moment of reflection, connecting his brief encounter with Ron and his unfortunate meeting with what can’t have been Alexander. “Fuck it.” He starts to pull out his cell to check the news but before he can make any progress, he realizes there is something warm and sticky on his shirt. Looking down to see what it is he immediately drops his phone and tears off his suit. God. Some of that must-be imposter’s cum got on his button up. He throws the shirt away and scrubs at his skin where the man’s fluids got on him with fury. Using hand sanitizer like it’s a cure he scrubs and scratches until his skin burns red and raw. 

After he’s confident he’s done all he can to remove any trace of Alex from his body, Gabriel grabs the backup shirt he keeps in his desk for just an occasion as this. Or rather, in case he spills coffee on himself or some other accident that makes sense at all. His mind craving any degree of normalcy the thought of coffee stays with him. Oliver should be making it in about now. His pulse begins to quicken as he feels concern for the intern, in fact it’s racing far faster a tempo than it usually reaches at its most accelerate. Putting his hand on his wrist as concern for himself eclipses that of Oliver he finds both come to a head as his door opens and he falls out of his chair in shock.

“Jesus Oliver, knock next time!” The programmer shouts cowering behind his desk. Oliver quickly sets down his handful of mugs and goes to help his boss up, “So sorry Gabe! I just saw you were in and you usually don’t mind at all.” Standing up, Gabriel inches behind the intern and quietly closes the door, he looks Oliver up and down for anything out of the ordinary. “Are you, feeling alright Ollie?” The man purses his lips and pats himself down, clearly not in the same headspace of his usually stoic boss, “Well, I believe I am sir? Is, uhm, everything alright with you?” Oliver’s eyes flicker around the room seeing the discarded clothes and taking note of his boss sweating more than usual. In fact Oliver isn’t sure if he’s ever seen the man really sweat at all, “Did you want me to switch for an iced coffee?”

Gabriel rubs his face and is similarly shocked to find himself sweating, “Ugh. I think this job might be getting to me. Have you seen anyone else in the office today?” Oliver puffs his cheeks and looks at the mugs he set aside, “No actually? Now that you mention it, Ronnie wasn’t even downstairs which seemed weird. I mean he’s always on that grind to try and impress Rueben.” Gabe scratched his beard and grimaced, usually he’s quite adept at compartmentalizing, it’s how he hasn’t blown up at the CEO thus far. But the impossibility of what he saw in Alexander’s office has left him shaken. His heart rate begins to rise once more as his mind returns to that scene. 

In fact, it’s not the only thing that begins to rise. Suddenly his uncontrollable mind latches onto the image of Alexander’s cock expanding and then blowing its load and Gabriel’s own cock begins to stir. His face burns with blush as he can’t help but dart his eyes to see his usually unimpressive cock begin to inch its way larger down his dress pants. For his part Oliver, used to taking verbal cues follows his boss’ eyeline and balks as he sees the man thoughtlessly go to grab it. Oliver is struck speechless as the ever stark programmer bites his lip and begins rubbing his cock through the linen pants, “Jesus, uh- Uhm- Sir!?” 

Immediately alert he wipes his face and sucks up the drool that was apparently beginning to pool in his throat. Gabriel grabs a tissue and wipes his brow, fervently apologizing to the intern, “I am so sorry Oliver. I don’t know what…” Oliver quickly waves him off, not so much bothered by the behavior as surprised. “D- Don’t you worry about it Gabe, er sir. I’ll just be out here if you need me!” He backs into the door before stepping out with an awkward nod, leaving the coffee cups behind. Gabriel debates whether or not he should report himself to HR before he slams his fist against his desk chair as he remembers they haven’t an HR department. 

Rage at his shitty start-up returning at an elevated degree he gets his head back in the game, despite the best attempts of his wanting package and balls growing bluer by the second. Concerned for whatever seems to be going on in this office, or worse in the world at large, he goes to the internet once more. Without much thought at all he opens Web and starts scrolling to find any information of use. Unfortunately for the higher functions in his mind the programmer is immediately assailed by the mindless user base he so disdains, and rather than feeling the ire he always does towards the dullards and hellions. Instead he finds himself possessed with a desire to drink in every last bulging muscle that presents itself.

Coworkers, friends, reporters- Everyone Gabriel has deemed worthy of attention on the nigh-worthless platform he is forced to use, even those who are straighter laced than Gabriel, have been posting smut on main. Industrious man he may be, the programmer is indeed but a man of flesh and blood, and that blood is rushing through him at a breakneck pace to give him the most intense erection he’s ever enjoyed. 

It’s partially why he’s so adamant about diversifying their app, a weakness in himself for the male form; a weakness that whatever corruption that is beginning to rise within him is gleefully taking full advantage of. He tries to stay focused, return to his concerned research, but after taking a gasping breath he realizes that his own body has begun to produce the musky air that must be spreading the impossible changes he’s trying to get to the bottom of.

Staring at the bulging pecs and hairy asses of men he once respected, Gabe struggles to pay attention to anything but the cock begging for his attention as it begins to create a wet spot halfway down his leg. The zipper halfway undone by the growing beast alone is fully ripped asunder as Gabriel can’t help but full on masturbate in his office, just as he walked into Alexander doing but minutes ago. He tears off his button up with uncharacteristic aggression as it begins to impede his jacking off. As soon as his arms are exposed his attention leaves the app and begins to hone in on his own body. God has he always been so hot?

Gabriel flexes his biceps and smirks as he sees them peak higher than he’s ever imagined they could before now. Raising his arms also exposes his pits, a hotbed for musk and whatever impossible contagion hides within it. He forces his neck to crane down into his pit as sweat begins to stain the undershirt that is rapidly filled with new mass. Intended to be deliberately loose, pounds begin to pack onto his chest and push the garment to its brim, the cotton fabric sticks to his chest tight enough that it would be a struggle to get it off over his new pecs, hearing the sound of fabric straining his cock grows even harder at the idea that perhaps he won’t even need to take it off. He’ll just grow large enough that his massive body will destroy it for him.

This thought flitting through his mind, Gabirel loses whatever shred of self-control remains and goes all out in enjoying the changes happening to him. Rubbing his hands across his sweat-covered tank top and feeling the burning muscles building themselves underneath it. The sound of fabric straining and tearing fills him with pleasure he couldn’t fathom before now as he nears his first rapturous release. Sweat drips from his pits as they grow thicker and curls stretch further afield as to be ungovernable, ever focused on the task of spreading his scent. Steady streams of pre trail down his cock, lathering his hand as his whole body quivers with the anticipation of ecstasy.

Before it can arrive however he receives a scheduled video call from the man he wants to hear from less than any other. Clicking accept as he must, the disdain that Gabriel has always held for Rueben quickly comes to a head. Greeted with the image of a more muscular, just as juvenile, version of the CEO filling his screen, Gabriel can’t help but grit his teeth in rage. Hearing him laugh and flex as he begins playing with the special effects in Zoom, Gabriel doesn’t have a moment to realize that he’s continued to masturbate. Instead,  much like when Alexander was surprised, his anger triggers him to cum immediately with no restraint, shooting loads all over the underside of the desk, his still thrusting hand, and the computer screen in front of him. 

Rueben laughs even harder at the sight, his voice duller than ever as he chastises the programmer, “Yo bro huh! Don’t take out your anger on the little guy! You should head down to the company gym and put that aggression to good use bro huhuh!” Gabriel narrows his eyes as veins bulge in his neck. Unhappy that the CEO might have a point, he promptly slammed the shutdown button on his computer and stumbled to his feet, quite off balance from his powerful orgasm. 

Quickly appraising his filthy condition, he shrugs at the cum covering his skintight clothes. Whatever, the gyms sure to be disgusting anyway, despite just enjoying release his cock bounces at the idea and he bites his lip to avoid smiling in excitement. Something at the back of his mind desperately begs for a second to realize he’s almost lost himself beyond measure. Unfortunately, with another deep breath of his own b.o. the man’s eyes fog over and he lumbers out of his office. 

Turning with an awkward smile as he hears the head programmer’s office open Oliver starts to say, “Hey boss, hope your-” before his mouth falls agape at seeing the disheveled lug that wanders out. Still unsteady on his feet as they begin to tear the expensive leather shoes he had on, the man stumbles forward and catches himself on the intern’s shoulder. “Buh, sorry uh, Oll’” grimacing at the stain he left on the young man’s shirt, he wipes it in further and nods before heading off, “I’m uh… Gonna go check out the gym.” Oliver stares at what he can only guess is cum that his boss just smeared into his shirt before going off to the gym. Rather than confusion at his boss’ behavior or disgust at the surely hazardous substance on his shirt, he can’t help but sniff as something in the air begins to make him feel warm inside. 

Sprinting down the emergency flight of stairs Gabriel leaves a cloud of musk in his wake as he works up more sweat than his body has ever produced before. Each bounding footstep skips an arbitrary amount of stairs as his legs lengthen. Quickly does he lose the few shreds of clothing that remained stuck to his growing form. After his feet finally burst from his shoes he leaves a clear trail of sweaty footprints that could surely be tracked by anyone who wanders past. Though any poor fool who should wander near enough to smell the slovenly detritus in Gabriel’s wake would likely find themselves lacking motivation to do anything but immediately lose their mind to senseless pleasure then and there.

Arriving in the gym Gabriel hungrily eyes the scene and is less than thrilled that he seems to be the only man present. Opting to throw on some clothes for no reason than to feel the friction of fabric against his sweaty skin he finds stained sweatpants littered on the floor and throws them on. After gratuitously appreciating his reflection and adding to the Pollock painting of stains that litter the posing mirror of their company gym, Gabe throws himself intuitively into every machine. He delights in the tension and pull of every straining muscle and grins through the pain as they bounce back larger than with every repetition. 

He doesn’t spare half a thought about wiping down machines, and clearly whatever boorish louts used them previously didn’t either, much to his satisfaction. Each second of his body changing upstairs during his too brief session of self pleasure holds nothing towards the edification, the perfection, he enjoys now as he throws himself into a workout. It’s far more intense than his meager body should ever be able to maintain. Sweat drips from him like a waterfall as hair fans out across his form, rapidly expanding from shaved stubble into fluff that would hold and spread his scent for hours to come.

Taking a break to take a photo of his new beyond exuberant self, as he stands across from the mirror his cock instantly hardens and inches to its almost foot long length down the leg of his sweatpants. Immediately it begins dripping pre down his hairier thigh as he screams in bestial abandon. His brain is so far gone the idea of posting the steamy pics of his sweaty form on Web doesn’t even occur to him. Instead the only thoughts remaining to fill his mind are those to return to the gym and get back to the important mission of increasing his virile strength, or the even more pressing desire to fuck anything that moves. Unfortunately for him he can’t produce a single actionable step towards that end. So he shall simply enjoy his new body by his lonesome until some equally horny man stumbles into the company gym.

“God what is up with me today.” Back on the tenth floor Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose as he is overwhelmed with another headache. Ever since Gabriel paid him the brief visit on his way to the gym Oliver has been getting them with increasing frequency. He removed his shirt, not wanting to wear something fouled by whatever was covering his boss’ hands but the damage was already done. The idea that not wearing a shirt in the office is inappropriate moves further out of reach by the second. The intern scratches the back of his neck and grumbles as he feels a soreness in his arm and traps, paying no mind as his fingers trail through thicker hair spreads down from his hairline towards his shoulders. Typing away at his computer, each keypress moves slower than the last, his hands cramp as they suddenly bulge larger.

Taking the smallest second to appraise his changing form Ollie’s eyes widen as he sees there are two unmissable weights now hanging on his chest, sitting on a small gut that he has been making concerted efforts to do away with. Feeling up the new pecs he blushes as he feels stubble prickle his fingers. Rubbing them and feeling muscle give way to his thicker hands he can’t suppress the grin on his face as he feels the prickly hairs quickly thicken and curl longer, painting his chest with a beautiful forest of hair. His dick immediately surges to the largest size it can achieve in the confines of his dress pants.

Awash in feeling every new inch of his hairier, more powerful body Oliver stands up and gasps as he sees abs clearer than anything underneath the new layer of hair on his stomach. His knees give way as his hips uncontrollably thrust while he stares down at his form growing sexier by the second. He barely catches himself from falling with his right hand on the table as his body continues to hump his pants to no end, while his left trails across his body to discover the new surprises that cover each and every inch. Hesitant to trail towards the package bulging larger in his crotch, he traces his abs back up to his chest and rests on his clavicle. There does he find the greatest surprise yet, barely gracing the tips of his fingers, a beard beginning to push out on a face that has always been unfortunately clean shaven. 

While it took browsing Web and the intrusion of his workplace enemy for Gabriel’s conscious mind to give in to the euphoria of being a new, greater man, the feeling of a beard inching thicker on Oliver’s face is more than enough to give himself over to anything. This alongside whatever corrupting virus is coursing through him to cause these changes, it’s no wonder he falls to the floor and begins thrusting a hole in his pants. His meaty thighs and monumental ass make light work of his dress pants as his cock angles itself upwards, out of the waistline of his impossibly tight underwear. Even while in the process of spraying load after load into the carpet of his office, his balls continue churning, always heavy and ever wanting more release. Ever demanding he find more avenues to spread his changes and heighten his own bliss. 

Now laying on the floor, every exhilarating movement packs more pounds of muscle onto his bulging new body. More pressing than that however is the pelt making its mark everywhere it sees fit to spread. His pubes grow thick enough that no light shall ever touch the base of his cock again before they spread upwards to paint his stomach with dark curls. The deodorant he threw on this morning hasn’t a breath of a chance against the new musk that issues forth from his pits as the bushes therein grow thicker than that on his head before stretching outwards to connect with those new heady hairs he so delighted in on his chest. The hairs around his nipples grow thick enough almost to hide them as he continues frotting against the carpet.

His biceps burn with the effort of holding his body up as veins bulge down the diameter of his meaty arms, thick strands of hair quickly trailing behind to make clear his undeniable masculinity. He feels new curls itching against the back of the elastic band of his underwear as it only just hangs in there. Dark curls reach up the small of his back and quickly race to cover his ass cheeks like fuzz on a peach, creating a seamless jungle of curls from his hairy inner thighs to a dense thicket still inching higher on his back; growing into a forest perfect to be grabbed by anyone lucky enough to ride his prodigious cock.

After an especially vocal release, his shoulders burn as his traps bulge larger, which brings a certain someone’s touch to mind. Sniffing the air he finds himself in a haze of his own musk, though the musk smells awfully similar to that of the man who almost started masturbating in front of him. Following his more sensitive nose, the intern crawls over to Gabriel’s office and confirms his suspicions. Oliver smirks as he imagines that the horny freak is probaly equally wanting of a fuck buddy. 

Pulling himself up to his feet on the doorway, he grunts as his knees wobble a bit and his cock tries to convince him that humping the floor is good enough. Staying strong and holding the human instinct that some things are worth the effort, he walks on feet hairier than paws and wider than flippers to the elevator where he begins a descent to the company gym. Snapping a picture to text his boss he smirks as he thinks despite what Gabriel always says, perhaps working in a start-up has some perks after all.

It isn’t clear precisely what happened on the Fall day when men across the Bay Area began changing into, well, sex-crazed beasts. Some assume it was some strange chemical leak. Others say that it was some spontaneous evolution, though to what end such pleasure seeking changes could help a species is unclear. Some particularly conspiracy-minded folks think the whole thing was a ploy by a Social Media startup that was taking off with men precisely like the ones who changed. Though at the end of the day it doesn’t quite matter how or why they changed but how to prevent it from spreading. Across the nation, men of every walk of life are rapidly changing despite taking the best precautions. 

Closing gyms, quarantining those changing, racing to find any treatment to help those losing their minds and their bodies. Nothing seems to help as every day more men are blowing up with muscle, growing hairier with symptom spreading musk, and losing themselves to their uncontrollable lusts. At this point it’s seeming like there’s nothing that could possibly be done to stop the spread of changes, but hey, at least it seems like they’re happy.

[starrihan]

Higher Than Heaven (Yeonjun Fic)

→ Pairing: Yeonjun x afab! Reader

→ Plot: a group project is the last thing you want for your midterm, but working with the student who smokes makes it 10x worse

→ Genre: smut, tiny tiny bit of angst, protection (yes!!), kissing, hickeys, piv sex, reader is judgmental + hates smoking, swearing (Imk if i missed any!!)

→ Warnings: smoking, mentions of food, joke about dead grandparents

→ Word Count: 7,746

→ Notes: hey guys! This is the first fic of my Sanctuary Series! For more information about the series I would recommend going to this post here!I just want to clarify that I do not share the same views as the reader does in this fic, it was purely for plot purposes! Hope you enjoy pt 1 of the series 😚

༄ ༄ ༄

You were always a goodie two-shoes. Perfect attendance, good grades, class president, the story writes itself. You grew up playing different instruments and were always enrolled in a sport or after-school club to keep yourself busy and your portfolio reflecting nothing less than perfection. So how did you go from valedictorian and class president of your high school to a college student who is on the verge or dropping out? 

The amount of work you’d allowed to accumulate over the past few weeks was enough to scare even the professors, making them question whether they actually assigned that much work. You could feel your grays coming in at the sight of all your work, exhaling as you decide to tackle the easy assignments first. 

It’s the middle of the day on a Thursday. You had a couple of assignments due tomorrow night that you absolutely could not afford to push off any longer. You had already asked for extensions on most of your assignments so far and you didn’t know how many more dead grandparents you could have before your professors questioned the validity of your failed punctuality when it came to turning in your assignments on time. You had class at 3 p.m, giving you a good two and half hours to get some work done. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You pack up your belongings as the clock strikes 2:30 p.m. You had gotten a couple of your easy assignments done, though it was very taxing to say the least. You make your way to your class, bundling up as the cold was brutal enough to warrant a cancelation, though, your university would never do that (speaking from experience because wdym its 2℉ out and i have to walk to class when theres black ice on the ground??).

You make it to your class about 15 minutes later, shivering from being cold yet sweating due to the many layers you had on. You take a seat next to your best friend, who had gotten there before you and saved your seat. 

“Can we go get food after class? I’ve had back to back classes and meetings all day and I’m starving.”

She drones on. You nod as you take out your laptop, waiting for the professor to start class. You’re prepared to mindlessly take notes for the next hour and half during lecture, but are pleasantly surprised when the professor doesn’t pull up the lecture slides. 

“Good afternoon class. I can all tell you guys are doing great so far.”

Her joke lands for some people, getting little chuckles and giggles from different corners of the lecture hall.

“Your midterms are a month away. I would normally give an exam for this class, but this year I have decided to switch it up. I have you all in pairs and you will be submitting a group assignment as your midterm. You will not be required to present but I will give you free reign on the design, layout and mode of presentation on the project meaning you can use any platform or software you would like to get the information across. I have sent you all emails with the name of the person you will be paired up with.”

You and friend look at each other and groan, knowing that the chance of you two being in a group is slim to none. Surely enough, you check your emails for your project partners.

“Who is Choi Yeonjun?” 

You ask, looking to your friend to see if she has any answers. She scans the room, presumably to see if he’s in class to point him out to you. 

“You see that kid in the middle row to the left? The one with the red hair? That’s him.

You look at the back of his head, sighing as you realize you don’t know this person and that this project is going to take a lot more time out of your busy schedule. 

“At least you’re not working with Choi Beomgyu. I heard he can be a handful.” 

Your friend rolls her eyes, burning holes in the back of the blonde boy's head, who happens to be sitting next to Yeonjun. You follow your eyes to see the boy, laughing at the irony of your partners sitting next to each other, just like their partners were. 

The rest of the class is drag, the growling of your stomach making it seem longer than it was as hunger consumes you. 

“Let’s go to the dining hall. I can’t afford to spend any more money on that overpriced cafe.”

Your friend says as you follow her out. It’s gotten pretty dark outside and there weren’t many students walking around in the cold. There were a couple of people here and there, probably walking back to their dorms after class. You two find yourself walking behind a person with their hood up, paying no mind to him until a cloud of smoke hits your face. Your audible groan at the smell of weed alerts his attention as he turns around and apologizes for smoking right in front of you. As he pulls his hood down, you recognize the tuft of bright red hair sitting on the top of his head. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you guys were behind me. I didn’t mean for the smoke to hit you.” 

‘Great,’ you thought. Not only did you have to work with a random stranger, but he also smokes publically on campus. You didn’t like smoking or people who smoked. You couldn’t understand why people do it or what joy butchering your throat and lungs could bring you. Your friend knew that about you and sensing your irritation, she speaks up for you, dismissing the incident on your behalf while you both walk ahead of him. 

As soon as you know that you’re far enough away from Yeonjun, you ask,

“Can we switch partners?”

Your friend snickers.

“If he smokes, I can almost assure you that his friend does too, so switching partners wouldn’t help.” 

You finally enter the dining hall, taking in the heated building before putting your stuff down in search of mediocre food. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You spend the next few days catching up on any missing work, putting the project aside since you still have a month left to do it. You decide to use Sunday as your rest day, drained from the assignments you were able to get done. You still had many assignments left to do, but you could only do so much work and you were already feeling burnt out. Doing more work wouldn’t be eventful in any way. 

You prepare for your day as normal, showering and throwing on a cute, weather appropriate, outfit as you make your way to the cafe on campus. You needed something better than the dining hall coffee for a change. You went there quite often, as you were high school friends with one of the baristas there. You smile as you spot him, walking up to the counter. 

“Taehyun! How’ve you been?”

The boy beams brightly at you, loving your cheerful spirit upon seeing him.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you for a couple days! I’m good, how are you? And, do you want your usual?”

“I know, I’ve been busy and broke. But I’m doing alright, just catching up on all of my assignments. And yes please.”

“Oh, that’s good at least! Also we have a new employee that I’m training so it might take a minute to get your order. Is that okay?”

“Yeah of course! Take your time. Thank you!” 

You say, paying the balance of your meal and waiting at the end of the counter to get your food. You see a tall boy with red hair come out from the kitchen. You scoff to yourself as you recognize Yeonjun. ‘Of course he works here,’ you think. It takes him a couple of minutes to make your drink, still new to all the syrups and flavors that are available. As he finishes he calls out your name. 

“Y/N!” 

You walk up to him, remaining polite as you thank him for your order.

“Thank you.”

“Sorry if it took a while, it’s only my third day here.” 

“It’s okay, thank you for the food!” 

He stares at you and you’re about to grab your stuff and walk out, but he stops you.

“Wait, Y/N? Are you taking history 2204? With Professor X?” 

“Yeah?”

You feign ignorance, pretending not to know who he is. 

“Ah, I see. I’m Yeonjun. I think we’re partners for this project. It was nice to meet you.” 

He says as he smiles. You felt a little guilty about your prejudiced dislike towards him. He seemed nice enough, so what if he smokes? And you couldn’t lie to yourself, finding his smile and crinkled eyes cute.

“Oh yeah! It’s nice to meet you too!” 

“Can I give you my number? So we can discuss what days work for us to meet up and work on the project?” 

You nod as you hand him your phone. You watch as he types away his number, smiling as he hands it back to you.

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I’ll text you my schedule and we can figure out what works then.” 

He wished you a good day and you smile, finding his manners charming. 

༄ ༄ ༄

A week had passed since you met Yeonjun at the cafe. You were officially back on track as you submitted the last of your missing assignments the night before, finally being able to focus your time and energy on this project. You had yet to message Yeonjun and you didn’t know why you were nervous to text him. You didn’t want to start off the messages awkwardly so you went with a simple yet forward message to start the conversation.

“Hey! This is Y/N from history class. You gave me your number last week at the cafe.”

You release the breath you were subconsciously holding, hitting ‘send’ and waiting for a response. You didn’t want it to seem like you were glued to your phone, waiting for him to message you back so you bide your time by doing other things around your space. Cleaning up your desk, putting away your clothes, etc. 

You hear your phone go off, waiting a couple minutes to check who the message is from. You groan when it’s just one of your friends asking if you wanted to hang out later. You replied ‘sure,’ and went back to doing anything you could occupy yourself. 

It had been a couple of hours since you messaged him and still no response. Now pissed that he hadn’t yet gotten back to you, you decided to get ready to go out with your friends. There was a party at a bar on campus and you allowed yourself to go out as a reward for completing all your assignments. Putting on some light makeup, you chose a rather revealing outfit despite the winter weather, assuming that it was probably going to be hot in the bar. 

You met your friends there and all started with some drinks. You were talking about your days, just checking up on them. You had all been so busy with midterms coming up that you barely had time to hang out. After having about two more drinks, your friends dragged you onto the floor, dancing to whatever music the band was playing. 

“Y/N!!” 

You hear your name being called and turned around to find the source of the noise. You spot Taehyun and instantly your mood brightens up. 

“Taehyun! I didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“I wasn’t planning on coming but my friend asked me to come with him. I think you’ve met him before, Yeonjun? He’s the one that made your order a week ago.” 

You grimace upon hearing his name. At first, you cut him some slack because he seemed nice enough. You felt guilty about judging him because he smoked. But after not messaging you all day and then hearing that he was at this party, you went back on your word, the idea of disliking him appealing to you again. 

“Oh yeah, I know him. I remember meeting him last week.” 

You say, emotionless. 

“I want you to meet him again. And my other friends too, they’re all cool so I think you’ll like them.” 

You trusted Taehyun so maybe you had to hold off on your hatred a little longer. Though you were good at using your words, your expression and body language always failed you, never being able to hide your negative emotions. 

“These are my friends, Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu and Kai.” 

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N!” 

“Ah yes, we’ve heard a lot about you. Taehyun told us how you guys were best friends in high school.” 

Soobin said, his tall frame and black hair are easy on the eyes. 

“Yeah, me and Terry go way back! It feels like we met just a year ago but it’s already been 7 years”

You say, laughing. Yeonjun chuckles at your comment, sipping at his beer. 

“It’s nice to formally meet you Y/N. And I like your outfit, it suits you.” 

You stare towards him is cold but your cheeks betray you, heating up at his compliment towards your outfit. 

“Thank you…” 

Your night goes on, hopping between your friend group and Taehyun and his friends. One by one, they all start to leave as you’re left with one of your friends, Taehyun and Yeonjun. You introduce them all to each other and stay at the party for a little longer before deciding to leave. 

“I think I’m going to head back, Y/N. I’m tired and I have classes back to back tomorrow,” 

Your friend says, gathering her things.

“Alright but you can’t walk back by yourself? It’s too dark and you know how dangerous it can be.” 

You look around, trying to find a solution so that your friend doesn’t go back by herself. 

“Taehyun! You live on this side of campus right? Can you walk back with her?”

Taehyun looks to your friend, who’s blushing a little as you try to help her out. 

“Yeah sure but, what about you? You live on the opposite side so what are you gonna do?” 

“I can walk her back. I live around there anyways. It would be no trouble, really.” 

Yeonjun says, smiling as his eyes disappear. You mentally curse yourself for being left with Yeonjun, even though there was nothing else you can do about it. You all nod and go your separate ways, Taehyun with your friend and you with Yeonjun. 

On your walk back to your dorm, Yeonjun fishes a lighter out of his pocket, using it to light the joint that was in his other hand. Taking a drag, you immediately smell the inebriating plant and walk faster. He can sense something off between the two of you, the tension weighing down the atmosphere. 

“Did I do something to upset you? It just… seems like you don’t like me or don’t want me around?” 

You stop in your tracks, having been walking in front of him this entire time and turn around to face him. You exhale loudly before starting:

“First of all, I was not in the best state when the professor announced we were working in random pairs for this project. Not really your fault but then I’m walking behind you as we leave class and you’re smoking! Let alone, the smoke blows into my face and I hate smoking, let alone people who smoke. Then I met you at the cafe and you seemed really nice so I gave you the benefit of the doubt and thought that maybe I judged you too quickly and then I felt guilty. But then this morning, I text you and you left me on delivered all day and then I find you here, at this party and now you’re walking me back to my dorm. So yeah, you can say I’m not really fond of you.” 

You huff, the feeling of letting all of that off your chest almost euphoric. He puts his hand with the joint down next to him, taking his phone and checking his messages, and found that you did in fact text him and he didn’t read it. 

“I’m sorry for not reading your message, I was busy all day and I’m not allowed to use my phone during work. And I do apologize for smoking in front of you, even though it blowing in your face isn’t my fault. But that’s it? I didn’t actually do anything to you, so what’s the judgment for? Why do you hate people who smoke?” 

You didn’t want to stand in the cold any longer, and you didn’t want to have this conversation either. Really, you were avoiding his gaze because you really did have no valid reason to hate him. He never actually did anything to you. But you couldn’t back down now, otherwise you’d be embarrassed. You just huff as you turn on your heel, walking in the direction of your door, the rest of the walk back remaining silent. 

He walks you up to your building. You feel your phone ding, grabbing it from your pocket to check the notification. 

“I sent you my schedule. Let’s get this project done as quickly as we can so we don’t have to see each other again.” 

You hang your head low, guilt hitting you like a truck at the sight of an upset and hurt Yeonjun waiting for you to walk in. Even though you told him that you didn’t like him straight to his face, he still had the courtesy of waiting for you to enter your building so he can say he waited until you were safe to leave. You look back at him one last time, feeling worse than before as you run in and take the stairs up to your room. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You stare at Yeonjun’s schedule that sits in your messages, debating on whether or not you should ask your professor if you could work alone. You’re seriously contemplating it but ultimately decide that you should at least fix whatever you started, as it would be unfair to Yeonjun to leave him to do the project alone, though after your encounter last night, you’re sure he would appreciate not being your partner anymore. 

“Hey. I’m free this weekend if you are to work on the project.”

His reply is almost immediate, like he had been waiting for you to text him back. 

“Yeah, I’m free this weekend as well. Time and place?”

“Would you be comfortable coming over to my dorm at like 12 o’clock tomorrow? I want to apologize for the things I said and the way I acted…”

You bite your lip as you send the message, waiting for the rejection message to pop up.

“Sounds cool. I’ll see you at 12 tmr.”

No rejection? You were utterly surprised at this chance of redemption though, a little taken aback at how nonchalant he sounded. You lived in a single dorm so cleaning up wasn't that bad. You made sure to have plenty of snacks and drinks stocked in your mini fridge and made a little cozy corner for him to work in, while you would sit at your desk. You even made sure to text Taehyun and to ask what Yeonjun’s favorite drink was so you could have it ready for him when he arrived. 

༄ ༄ ༄

You woke up early in the morning, getting ready for the day as you make your way to the cafe to pick up the drinks you had ordered for both yourself and Yeonjun. 

“Hey Taehyun! Do you have those drinks ready for me?”

“Hey! Yeah I do. I have your usual and an iced americano for Yeonjun!”

The boy says, big eyes gleaming as he hands you the drinks. 

“Thank you! I’ll see you later!”

You didn’t tell him about the events that transpired after the party, and from the looks of it Yeonjun hadn't told him anything either. You say your goodbyes and make your way to a little pop-up event on your campus. They were selling cookies and cupcakes to support their club, so you thought it would be a nice gesture to buy you and Yeonjun both a cookie and a cupcake each. 

Struggling to open your door with all the treats in your hands, you manage to get inside of your room and put all your stuff down. You check the time to see that it’s only 11:30 a.m, relieved to see that you still had some time to yourself. 

You hear a knock on your door a little bit later. You had sent Yeonjun the details of your dorm room before he got there but were still startled by the knock. You compose yourself, nervously opening the door to see a blank-faced Yeonjun staring back at you, this time wearing a loose sweater that hangs off his shoulder on one side, gray sweats and black, thick framed glasses. 

“Hey Yeonjun. Come in, I have some things prepared.” 

He nods as he walks in, slipping off his shoes at the little welcome mat you have placed in front of the door. The dorm itself is pretty small, enough for one person but it could still comfortably afford a guest. 

“First of all, I want to start with a verbal apology. I’m sorry for being prejudiced against you based on your smoking habits. And I’m sorry for lashing out on you last night when you asked a valid question. I know it wasn’t your fault that the smoke blew into my face and I guess I was just anxious about this project and texting you that I didn’t even stop to think and consider the fact that you could’ve been busy and didn’t have time to check your phone. Secondly, I asked Taehyun what your favorite drink at the cafe was so I got you an iced americano, and a cookie and cupcake from the fundraiser one of the clubs on campus is having.” 

You shyly hand over the cup with his drink and the snacks that were packed into a little plastic box. He takes the snacks out of your hand and for the first time all week, you relax your shoulders as Yeonjun smiles, accepting your apology and finding it cute in the process. 

“Thank you Y/N. I know you don’t know me and I don’t know what your deal with hating smoking is, but I accept and appreciate the apology nonetheless. Shall we get started?” 

You nod as you instruct him to put his stuff down in the little workspace you created for him, a small throw pillow and fox blanket resting on the inflatable chair you had blown up for him to make use of. He chuckles at the cute setup, settling his stuff down and getting comfy to start working.

༄ ༄ ༄

Throughout your working session, you had some conversation here and there when things got boring or you ran into a particularly difficult part of the project. A couple hours into working you both decide to tap out, noticing the time and finding that you had been working for 6 hours straight. 

“Oh my god, it’s been 6 hours!” 

You say, surprised that you were able to focus on the same assignment for so long though, to your credit, it felt like many different assignments bundled into one. 

“Damn, I didn’t even notice how late it was. That wasn’t so bad actually.” 

Yeonjun says, getting up to stretch his legs, americano and snack box empty as you both refused to leave the room to eat lunch. He picked up his trash, throwing it in the garbage before returning to his corner, looking at you before asking you a question you didn’t think he’d ask:

“Would you ever try it? Smoking I mean?

You stare at him blankly. Your immediate answer was no. Smoking is bad for you, it can cause illness or death. But when you opened your mouth to answer, you didn’t expect this to come out: 

“Maybe one day?” 

You’re speechless yourself at your answer. You were so adamant on hating smoking and never wanting to try it. What about Yeonjun asking you made you change your answer? Was it the way he so confidently stood up to you last night? Or the way he walked you to your dorm despite learning about your true feelings for him at the time? Or the way you wanted him to find you different from the character you first gave off, the one that judged him for smoking in the first place? As if he could see the inner struggle etched onto your face he remarks,

“I thought you hated smoking? What makes you want to try it?” 

Your face heats up at your own silence, but you respond anyway.

“I do hate it. And I actually don’t want to try it. I don't know why I said that. But why do you smoke in the first place?” 

You ask, trying to change the subject to be towards him. Catching onto your little trick, he humors you. 

“It’s a relaxing way to unwind after a stressful day. Sit back, throw on a movie and take a couple hits and you’re there. Relaxed as can be with no other care in the world. You should try it, maybe then you won’t be as tightly wound.” 

You scoff at his little jab at you towards the end of his explanation. You couldn’t lie, with the way he was explaining it to you, the idea of smoking did sound very enticing. But nonetheless, you were willing to stand your ground on this topic, after all, this whole situation you were in with Yeonjun stemmed from your hatred towards smoking and you weren’t going to back down now. 

“As if. And I am not tightly wound, thank you very much. Maybe you can’t tell because you’re brain fried from all the weed you smoke.” 

Thinking your remark has granted you victory in this argument, Yeonjun smirks, offering you a challenge. 

“Try it. Prove me wrong that you won’t feel relaxed. That it won’t make you feel like a weight has been temporarily lifted off of you.” 

He reached down into his bag, pulling out a metal box and setting it on your desk. Upon clicking it open, the smell of weed immediately wafts through the room, filling your nose and causing you to cough slightly. 

“Do you mind not opening that up in my room? We’re not supposed to smoke in the dorms anyways!” 

You said, grabbing air freshener to dilute the smell of the weed. 

“Relax, it's fine. Plus the hall directors on this floor all do it too, so they won’t care.” 

You scoff as he takes a seat, carefully grinding the bud so as not to get any on your desk. He then fiddles with the contraption used to pack the weed into the paper, sealing it off after having packed it fully. 

“I’ll demonstrate how to do it and then you take a hit, okay?” 

You gulp nervously, teetering between the idea of kicking him out or waiting to see how this all plays out. Were you really going to get high because a cute boy challenged you? You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts as you see him flick open the lighter, the smell of burning paper replacing the smell of weed in your nose. He lets it burn for a while, opening your window in the process. 

“When you take a hit, blow out of the window otherwise you’ll set off the fire alarm.” 

You mock a smile as he laughs, bringing the joint up to his lips as he takes a small inhale. You watch as the fibers of the paper burn, the weed contents turning gray. You analyze the way he takes the hit and hold it in his throat for a second before slowly blowing the cloud of smoke out of the window. 

“Your turn.” 

He passes you the joint, as your clammy hands impatiently reach for it. You look at him one more time nervously, bringing the joint up to your mouth and inhaling. You don’t know how fast you ripped it, throat burning and violently coughing as Yeonjun scrambles in your fridge to bring you a bottle of water. You chug the water to stop your coughs, handing the joint back to him as you catch your breath. 

“Nothing about that was relaxing in any way.” 

“That’s because you did it too fast. Look, watch me. You slowly inhale, don’t let the feeling of it in your throat bother you otherwise you’ll start to cough.” 

You hold a little grudge in your stare, cursing at the fact that you were so easily convinced to try the one thing you spited and how your resolve crumbles so easily before your very eyes. You watch him bring the joint up to his lips again, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat before taking another hit. This time you watch how he holds it in his mouth, counting the seconds before he blows it out. 

“Think you got it this time?”

You take the joint from his hand, silently reassuring him that you’d be fine. You try again, this time slowly inhaling. Remember his words from just a few moments ago, you let the particles settle in your throat for a moment, slightly inhaling before releasing the breath, successfully blowing the smoke out of the window. You look up at Yeonjun with big eyes and a proud smile. 

“I still don’t feel relaxed.” 

“You will in about 3 more hits and 15 minutes.” 

You continue to pass the joint to each other, careful not to rip it too fast or inhale too much. You can feel your eyes start to get a little droopy, a constant smile appearing on your face as you feel your body loosen. You feel slower but not heavy as you turn to Yeonjun and start giggling. 

“I can tell that you’re starting to feel it now. Gonna tell me you don’t feel relaxed?” 

You nod, giggling at his smile. The longer you stare at him, the cuter you think he is. Even in your high state, you couldn’t blame the weed for the attraction you felt for the red-haired man. Maybe you were starting to form a little crush. You think about the sweater he’s wearing, how his neck and collarbone are so perfectly on display, longing to be nipped at. Or the way the glasses make him look more sophisticated and smart, you did like nerdy looking boys. And the way his thick lips wrapped around the joint, eyes following his every move as he takes another drag. You couldn’t help the way you were rubbing your thighs together, the idea of his lips on yours creating a need to form within you. He looks at you, dumbfounded as he himself is now high as well. 

“How are you feeling Y/N? Do you feel good? Do you feel relaxed?” 

This time, you could blame the weed for what you say next:

“I feel great. I would feel even better if you kissed me.”

You laugh at your own comment, finding Yeonjun’s shocked expression priceless and thus further causing you to laugh. You allowed yourself to be bold, not knowing when again you’d have this opportunity. 

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Y/N. You’re high right now and so am I. Neither of our judgments can be trusted right now.” 

He tries to play the mature, responsible role. He was the one that got you high so he felt responsible for any and all actions made by you or towards you by himself. But the slight, ever-growing tent in his pants was giving him away, revealing that he was not as grounded in his resolve as he wanted to be.

“What? You don’t believe me? Should I prove it to you?”

You take his previous words of challenge and use it against him, playing him at his own game. You walk up to him slowly, eyes red and droopy as you stare into his. You place your hand on his chest, tippy toeing to try to reach up to his lips. 

“Help me out a little?” 

As if all rhyme and reason was thrown out the window, Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to lean down, capturing your lips with his own. He throws one arm around your waist, the other carefully holding the joint so as not to get any ash over your floor. Your hands remain on his chest as your lips move slowly in sync, breaths heavy from the temporarily shortened capacity of your lungs. You still feel a burn every time you inhale, but it’s worth it for the way Yeonjun has you feeling right now; completely relaxed and carefree. 

He pulls away for a second, grabbing your hand with his free one and placing the joint in between your lips, guiding you to take a hit before he puts it in the metal box with his other weed essentials. His eyes watch you in awe as you close your eyes to take the hit. He pulls you onto his lap as he takes a seat on your desk chair and you happily follow, hands around the nape of his neck as you play with the hairs there. You take your time holding the smoke in and he kisses you again, running his hands along your sides, squeezing as you gasp, letting the smoke out from your mouth into his. He takes the opportunity to gently slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan at the contact, grinding down a bit into his thigh. Your mouth is dry, partly due to the cotton mouth you're experiencing, and partly due to the nerves that had worked their way into your body when you decided to be bold and admit to wanting to kiss him. 

He licks the inside of your mouth before pulling away a little to suck on your tongue, teeth grazing it as he pulls away to trails kisses down your jaw and neck. You’re panting out of breath at his actions, the wetness between your legs only growing as you feel his hard-on press against the side of your thigh. You giggle as he nips a particularly ticklish spot on your neck, the effects of the weed present and causing him to giggle as well. 

“Can I kiss your neck?” 

“Well when you ask so nicely…”

He laughs, pulling away from your neck and tilting his head to the side, granting you permission to mark him up. You lean down, lightly nipping at his milky skin, biting around the area of his collarbones and he rests his hands on your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. Your little whimpers at the contact only turn him on more, hard cock throbbing against his sweats as you eye the clear outline of them. Pulling back to look at your little marks, you’re satisfied as you pull him into your lips once again, this time more hungry. His hands that were settled on your hips move to grab your ass, squeezing as he presses you down harder on his thigh. Your moans are drowned out by his lips as the makeout becomes heavier and messier, saliva escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping down your chin. He pulls away first, admiring your red and puffy lips with a dazed smile. He stands you up, grabbing the joint and taking a big hit, holding it as his hands sweetly caress your face and he gives you another kiss, letting the smoke cascade into your mouth as you try your best to inhale and not choke. He smirks watching the excess smoke slip between your mouths, putting down the remainder of the joint and feeling you up underneath your shirt. 

“No bra?”

“I was in here all day. There was no need for it.”

You respond simply, taking a step back to fully take your shirt off, giggling as you watch his eyes open dramatically at the sight of your bare tits, nipples hardened as a result of the cold air. He pushes you against your desk, leaning you back over it as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, not even bothering to get you both on the bed. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud. You moan at the contact, harshly gripping his hair as he grazed his teeth against them. He takes the chance to slide his hands down the waistband of your pants, settling just above your pussy. 

“Yeonjun…” 

Your whimpers turn him on further as he begins rubbing circles on your clit through your panties and you throw your head back at the sheer amount of pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. He switches his attention from one nipple to the other, trading his fingers up and down your slit, feeling the wetness collect on the fabric separating his fingers from your heat. You don’t realize your grip has gotten impossibly tighter, accidentally pushing his head further into your chest, not that he minded. 

“You’re rough, I like it.” 

He pulls his head away from your chest and you whine at the loss of contact, the warmth his hold brought you being replaced by the cooling of his saliva all over your boobs. He pulls you close enough to him to help you take off your pants and underwear, sitting you back down on your desk as he admires your glistening lips, sliding down both his sweats and his boxers. 

He goes over to his bag and pulls out a condom before rolling it on to his painfully hard erection. 

“You just carry condoms on you at all times?”

“It came in handy, didn’t it?” 

He smirks at your failed attempt at being snarky, grabbing your waist as he slides the head between your folds. Your arms rest on his shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as the other twiddles with the necklace he has on.  

“You tease too much…” 

Yeonjun guides you back and forth on his dick, relishing in the little yet satisfying pleasure he’s giving himself right now. One hand rests on your pelvis, thumb reaching down to circle your clit as you hiss, biting your lip to suppress the moan you desperately want to let out. 

“Please Yeonjun…” 

Your begging only made it harder for him to resist you, slowly bringing the head down to your sopping entrance, groaning as he pushes it past your walls.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Gotta stretch you out on my cock.”

You wince as he pushes himself in deeper, releasing a sigh of content as he fully sheathes himself inside you. He keeps his thumb on your clit, the speed of his actions constant. 

“Y-you can move now…” 

He moves slowly, still letting you adjust before moving at a more constant pace. You’re mindful of the moans pushing past your open lips, finding it hard to contain them as he sets a firm rhythm. You look down beside you and pick up what’s left of the joint. Yeonjun takes note of your actions, holding you steady with both of his hands as you grab the lighter to reignite the substance. You bring it to your lips once again, letting the effect of the weed wash over you, reveling in the heightened effect of the drug. 

You hold the joint up to Yeonjun’s mouth, smiling lazily as he takes a hit, his hips never stopping their relentless pounding into your pussy. He attaches his lips to your neck once again allowing the smoke to escape and you to stabilize yourself while his thumb goes back to circling your clit, this time much faster than before. He also speeds up thrusts, the volume of your moans increasing as his harsh thrusts knock the desk back into the wall over and over again. You’re afraid of the amount of noise you’re making, worried about whether or not your neighbors can hear the scandalous sounds coming from your room, but all worry flies out the window when Yeonjun leans you back, bringing your hips up to a whole new angle for him. 

“Yeonjun!!” 

You scream as his tip hits your spot so deliciously, legs wrapping around him, pulling him that much closer. He chuckles as your face scrunches up, indicative of your close release. He can’t help but to move faster, pistoning his hips at an incredible speed, one that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as a gush of liquid comes rushing out of you. 

“Yeah that’s it, squirt all over my cock for me. Let it all out…” 

You’re so high that you barely even register the fact that you just squirted all over him, creating a mess on your floor. Your feelings only seem to intensify as the overstimulation kicks in, sensitive walls clenching down on him as your second orgasm approaches you quickly, his fingers still working your clit. 

“I’m… I’m gonna cum again… Y-yeonjun please…” 

Your whines come out broken and sporadic, not sure how much more you can take. 

“Hold on for me a little longer baby, I’m almost there.” 

You nod as you pull his head back down to you, kissing him one last time as he nails his final thrust, hips stilling in you as he feels himself fill the condom. Your pants and sighs fill the now smokey room. 

“I didn’t know you could squirt like that baby girl. You’re so fucking hot”

He carefully pulls out of you, making sure not to let any cum seep out of the condom. You wince as he pulls out, legs feeling like jelly as you release him from your hold. After discarding the condom, he quickly reaches for the napkins you have sitting on top of the fridge, cleaning you up before kneeling on the cold floor to wipe up any remnants of your release. 

“You look good when you’re on your knees,”

You say playfully, biting your lip as you watch him clean your floor. 

“I was right.” 

Your head feels empty and you’re slightly tingly. The high you were having definitely intensified the feeling you were having during sex but it did nothing to help jog your memory. 

“What are you talking about” 

“Have you already forgotten”

You shrug as you jump off the desk, using his shoulder to help ground yourself as your legs recover from their jelly-like state and proceed to put your clothes back on. 

“I told you that smoking would help you feel more relaxed. I guess in your case it also helped you be more bold.” 

Your usual eye roll was replaced by a giggle. 

“Did I really say that? I guess I had no idea what I was talking about?” 

He laughs with you as he finishes cleaning the floor, pulling his pants back on before putting his weed materials away, shirtless. 

You keep staring at him, realizing that you were too high and too needy to notice his toned abs before. 

“I can send you a picture of them if you want? You don’t have to keep staring at me like that.” 

He pulls his sweater over his head to which you pout, upset that your view was now covered. 

“Relax, you’ll see them again the next time we do this.” 

“Next time?” 

You couldn’t say that you hated the feeling of being high, but maybe you weren’t in the right mind to be making decisions like that. 

“Yeah? Next time we work on the project we can get high and do this again. It was fun.” 

He puts his stuff away in his bag, leaving it on your inflatable chair. He wasn’t just gonna leave you after fucking you whilst you were still high. 

“We got a pretty good portion of the project done today. We don’t even have to meet up to finish out individual parts.” 

You say, reminding him about your 6 hour grind to finish as much of the project as you could. 

“What are you trying to say?” 

He says while fixing his glasses and hair in your mirror.

“I’m saying the next time we meet we don’t have to do work.”

He makes eye contact with you through the mirror, his smirk hard to hide at your insinuation.

“You dirty girl. So bold when you’re high, only want me over to have sex.” 

“Well… to have sex and get high! I do enjoy your presence but I’ve never felt so good before. That was like heaven.” 

Even though he didn’t know you that well, he could tell the effects of the weed were still strong on you, watching you yap away, knowing you probably won’t remember this conversation in the morning. He just laughs at your comment as you put your stuff away. 

You watch as he goes back to his seat, moving his bag back to the floor. You walk up to him, sitting down on his lap. You tangle your fingers in his hair, staring at his lips again, which are also swollen. His eyes follow your gaze and he throws his head back in laughter, scaring you a little as you flinch at unexpected sound. 

“You’re still horny?” 

“What makes you say that?”

You play dumb as if you weren’t just drooling over his lips. 

“But we just put our clothes back on!” 

He whines, fixing your position so that you’re properly straddling him. 

“Yeah but, you aren’t gonna reject me right? Not when I’m high and needy because of you?” 

You feign your best soft voice and puppy eyes, trying your best to hold back from laughing in his face at your own antics. Yeonjun takes your face in his hand, giving you a sweet smile.

“No of course not, that would make me a monster.”

He says, pulling you back in for another kiss as you settle in. Maybe smoking a little bit of weed wasn’t so bad after all. 

[ribombee-lapidarym]

So, we've been doing some research on which platforms are best/worst for being openly endo/pro-endo on

Disclaimer: this applies only if you are going to be actively interacting with / coming across plural spaces in these socials

More in-depth info under cut

Tumblr: you know it, you love it, you're currently on it. Tumblr is near undoubtedly the best social media to be endo/pro endo on (that we've found). Users / followers of pro endo tags outnumber users / followers of anti endo tags, which, while definitely existing along with anti-endo blogs, are far less popular, as well as being full mostly of posts that aren't even about endos or even sometime plurality in general, they're more just regular posts tagged with it just to ensure the "icky endos" stay away from their posts.

Bluesky: anti endos are far more common to encounter on Tumblr, but are still generally outnumbered by pro endos. Most mentions of endos just have them on DNI lists from antis or people doing syscourse.

Pinterest: honestly we should have put Pinterest next to Twitter on this list, they're about the same. Anyway, you can't really do text posts though you can definitely find anti endo userboxes and flags, but there's also quite a few endos / pro endos on there. They seem to number about the same

Twitter/X: surprisingly good! A fair few systems on there state being radplur/radinclus, even if they don't explicitly state they're pro endo. We saw just as many people supporting endos as we did hating on them, though syscourse doesn't seem to be discussed often on there.

Instagram: anti endos appear to outnumber pro endos by a little bit. The top few posts we saw were about 50% "why endos are bad" 40% "why endos are okay" and 10% "why fakeclaiming in general is bad (this does not extend to endos)". Overall, fairly negative place to be, try to avoid.

Youtube: 95% of videos about endos are information videos about them or "why I don't support endos" or "why are endos problematic". Syscourse is not a popular topic there, videos are 1000 views at max. There are definitely better places to be endo / pro endo

Tiktok: absolute hell for endos and pro endos alike. Next to no pro endos, next to no usage of the proendo tag, home of Asp*nfr*st*n. For your own safety and mental health, if you use tiktok, do not publically announce you are endo. It is better to stay away from the plurality side in general, to be honest.

Reddit: not on this list. This is because, due to how separated communities are, Reddit is Schrodinger's syscourser: both anti and pro endo at the same time, depending on which plural communities you frequent.

Hope this is helpful! :]

Let us know if you want us to investigate another social media we didn't mention, we're happy to do so.... for a price (the price is you asking us :P. We will not charge someone for making sure they are safe to be themselves on the Internet ^_^)

Quick tag in case its interested: @furyfuzz

And transparent blank template for this arrow we made:

[gemmahale]

Ficbook.net and Unauthorized Translations - An Update

Update to the update: some of the fics have been removed! 🎉 This happened before I finished this write-up even!

You may have seen this post last night about some CoD X Reader fics having unauthorized translations posted to the Russian site ficbook.net. @karlachismylife was monumental in helping me understand what's going on, and there's some explanation in that link from her POV as well.

Basically - multiple people have copied and translated fanfics into Russian and hosted them on ficbook.net. They're rough translations, some going as far as to use literal translations for turns of phrase. Most likely, they were run through a translation software (Google Translate or similar) and then roughly edited. (Juju mentioned that there is a subset of jobs in Russia where that is your job description. 😖)

Most of them have come from Tumblr posts, some from AO3. Very few had attribution beyond "tagging" the original author. (Aka - no consent was given for these translations.)

@syoddeye took the time to compile a list found here (google sheet). At the time of writing, 65 fics CoD x Reader fics were found - we know there's more but we only have so many knives in a day. (Sy did not look into slash fics either.)

Authors that have been tagged in the comments: I'm sorry you found out this way. I wanted to tell you in person, but given Tumblr's likelihood of thinking I was spamming you, I felt that this was the best option to alert you, provide you with options, and let you determine how you wish to move forward.

So what can be done?

If you already have an account, please report the fics! I'm told that spamming reports gets it taken down. Also consider messaging the author and ask them to remove them - they do not have the author's consent to publish them.

If you want to make an account and report the linked fics, you can. I have chosen not to, because I don't want to give Ficbook any extra support I otherwise might by doing so (clicks, ad views, account numbers).

If the author does not have closed comments (or you have an account), you can leave a comment on the fic.

Russian: Автор оригинала лично подтвердил, что не давал разрешения на перевод и публикацию. English: Author of the work personally confirmed that they did not give permission to translate and publish.

Finally - check in on your author friends that are on that list. It's devastating to find out your work has been plagiarized, translated and hosted somewhere else without your consent. Reblog their work, share comments, hype them up!

A couple of notes: (Juju correct me if I've fucked any of this up 💚)

The posters are likely not making money off the unauthorized translations. The website and their owners definitely are (ads, "premium features", promotion tools, etc.)

Ficbook.net is the biggest Russian language fanfiction platform - somewhat akin to AO3, but it doesn't have a great reputation within Russian circles because of the stealing and underhanded practices the owners use.

AO3 is banned in Russia, and Tumblr is one of the few places Russians can easily (aka without VPNs and Mirrors) read English version of fanfic.

CoD isn't the only fandom affected - there are dozens that have more posted, and we only scratched the surface in our list.

Finally, if you want to translate works, TALK TO THE AUTHOR. A lot of folks don't like having their work shared without their consent. Even if you feel like you are doing a good thing spreading it to a wider audience, YOU NEED THE AUTHOR'S CONSENT. If they've deleted their presence and their stories from hosting sites (tumblr, AO3, etc) - you don't get to pretend you're doing them a favor by reposting them. Respect their decisions.

[infiniteglitterfall]

OP there first claimed that I was only using Western sources, then blocked me when I shared too many tweets from anti-Hamas Palestinians.

Not the first time. That is standard operating procedure in the pro-Palestinian movement. And it's probably the biggest red flag, out of a LOT of red flags, that this isn't any kind of grassroots progressive movement.

It's an astroturfed far-right Hamas movement, disguised with progressive buzzwords.

A progressive movement would be centering and platforming the activists on the ground. The people directly affected, who have expertise and knowledge in what's happening and what helps.

Not blocking them on sight, as many Palestinian activists have complained SJP leaders and pro-Pal influencers are doing. (Sometimes AFTER calling them "Zionists.")

Kudos to @queermarzipan for reporting OP for supporting terrorism. I'm posting this to show everyone how easy it is to do that. And to encourage fucking beg people to report worship of Hamas, PFLP, and all their pals.

This shit is screwing over the actual people of Gaza.

It's actively helping Hamas to continue silencing Gazan voices.

And it's abandoning the people of Gaza who have fought Hamas so fucking hard and suffered so fucking much at its hands.

I'll hand this post over to Gazan activist Hamza Howidy to explain more.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Hamza Howidy (@hamzahowidyy)

We Gazans attempted several times to remove Hamas from power. In 2019 and in 2023, the people of Gaza held peaceful marches against Hamas; for this crime, we were brutally assaulted by Hamas militants. Hamas imprisoned over 1,300 protestors at each protest.

I was one of them. I was personally imprisoned by Hamas and tortured twice, because I participated in these protests.

So I know firsthand that when ordinary Gazans like myself protested against Hamas, there was no media attention.

No human rights organizations demanded the release of prisoners held for months in Hamas prisons, not to mention those who were tortured by Hamas, and even killed by Hamas—like Issam Al-Saaffein, who was killed under torture in Hamas's jails.

This trend has continued during the present war. Since October 7, hundreds of Gazans have been killed by Hamas' failing rockets. Hamas has confiscated the food, fuel, and medicine sent to Gaza, and they did not stop here. 13-year-old Ahmad Breka was shot in the head by Hamas in Rafah while attempting to collect humanitarian aid. Others were fortunate because they were merely shot in the legs by Hamas while attempting to grab humanitarian goods that Hamas stole and kept in their facilities. These inhumane acts, along with the agony that Gazans have undergone since October, prompted many to demonstrate anew during this war.

They demonstrated in Khan-Younis in front of Yahya Sinwar's house; others protested in the north, asking that Hamas free the captives and cease the war.

They received the same response from Hamas that I did: They were fired upon.

There have been protests in Gaza, throughout the war, demanding that Hamas surrender so they can finally have peace.

Nobody in the movement has heard of it or mentioned it. Much less coordinated protests with them, or amplified their demands. Instead, our protests ignore them at best. And often, openly fly Hamas flags.

Everyone who cares about Palestinians needs to reclaim this movement from Hamas and its supporters.

This is just one step towards doing that.

[tinystepsforward]

automattic vs wp engine mastterpost

adrienne's GitHub recap is probably the best place to see a comprehensive timeline of what's going down. it's been kept up to date. my (very out of date) previous writeup is here.

what's happened/other links

Matt has not logged off, just switched platforms, so there's lots on X/Twitter, Reddit, and Hacker News. it's really not worth wading through.

WP Engine actually filed suit.

the complaint includes some truly remarkable screenshots of Matt trying to blackmail the CEO of WP Engine.

which... personally i would not happily work for someone who just blackmailed me while not even my boss, but that's just me. he hasn't denied this at all, in fact confirming on Hacker News:

I haven't doxxed any private texts from other parties like they have. [source]

and, notably,

I even invited her to my 40th birthday on Jan 11, another text message she decided not to share. [source]

this gives me the creeps. in the context of the rest of the way he's talking to her, and the ways in which he's interacted with women in general, it's. not great.

also he slid into an ex-employee (also a woman)'s DMs asking why she was being mean to him bc he'd never been nothing but nice to her, while also making legal threats. so y'know, pattern of behaviour.

a good writeup of the social side of things

if you don't care so much about the open-source stuff, Steph Lundberg's writeup is, like her previous one on Matt's Tumblr meltdown, pretty solid and people-focused.

Mullenweg has already demonstrated egregious lapses in judgment and abuses of power, it’s just that up until now he’s wielded his power against vulnerable populations without access to high-powered lawyers and their own massive platforms.

a more technical writeup

this one is melodramatic in the same ways Matt was (uses war terminology), which i don't agree with, and which led to some... internal arguments at Automattic. that part's not my story to tell, but a little more on that later. it's a solid writeup of the actual WordPress side of things. there's some seriously dodgy trademark behaviour going on here.

of note: this blogger locked comments on his post:

and then Matt, uh, found a way around that:

wild!

10% of Automattic leaves

that's a link to Matt's blog post. here's an Internet Archive link.

in short, staff were offered a severance deal of the higher of $30k or six months' salary. while that's very generous, it's still very risky in today's tech market, especially (for the same reasons i mentioned when Matt was melting down on here) for people outside the US, people who need the health insurance, or people with young kids. despite that, 10% decided with very little notice (they had two days to decide) to leave.

However now, I feel much lighter. I’m grateful and thankful for all the people who took the offer, and even more excited to work with those who turned down $126M to stay. As the kids say, LFG!

i'm thrilled to see some of my ex-colleagues make it out. i'm keeping the rest who have stayed on in my thoughts. i don't know anyone who's wholesale shilling for Matt.

Matt's been pressuring staff to post in support of him, @-ing the entire company to vote on Twitter polls in his favor, and so on. many of the people who stayed have written blog posts about it, all starting with "I stayed". people on social media have pointed out the very clear pattern of Automatticians jumping into discourse to defend Matt, and it doesn't look good.

i don't have a lot to say about those posts, except to highlight Jeffrey Zeldman, whose "I stayed" post is perhaps one of the more honest ones. (his Rodney King reference was in poor taste, and he... i don't like his role at automattic, tbc) but like. he's nearly 70. he helped shape the modern internet and develop its accessibility standards. he has often put his neck on the line for disabled staff who don't have as much clout as he does. given the financial troubles he talks about and the state of this market and how old he is, i personally have read between the lines of what he's saying in a particular way.

fuck, man. i'm sad. i'm sad for all my friends who are creaking under the strain and watching others leave but who can't do that. i'm sad that many of them are left in teams which are half-empty or divisions where significant senior leadership are just gone, with no time to document what they had in progress.

i'm sad for Josepha Haden Chomphosy, the former executive director of the WordPress Foundation, who was dealing with a personal emergency and ended up having to miss WordCamp US (where Matt started publicly starting shit with WPE). she came back from that to a gigantic fire in the community she's invested a decade of careful, Matt-negotiating, stewardship to, and decided to take the severance offer. she deserved better.

other things Matt's been up to

mostly linking to comments or posts which compile things here, bc it's too scattered otherwise.

blocking people from the official WordPress X account if they disapprove of his actions.

publicly talking about a vulnerability in ACF, a plugin WPE maintains, which could put thousands of sites at risk. this is not normal, and he met with so much horror even from current staff that he deleted his post.

saying he comes across badly because he's "a little ASD", which is driving me personally up the fucking wall. he's never once said it before and he really is turning into Temu Elon.

generally bragging that he still has more planned. jesus fucking christ

continually saying that WPE's suit is against WordPress.org and the community, which is not true. on which note, his pinned tweet is certainly something:

his choice of lawyer is uh. the kind of guy to defend nestle against literal child slaves.

as always, while i think WordPress crumbling will disproportionately affect websites in poorer parts of the world, there are certainly tyrants who are causing much more immediate and potent suffering. if you've read this far, please do send anything you have spare to gazafunds.com.

[zumicho]

home┊prologue┊002

001: iced lemon loaves & self deprecating humor

© zumicho all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my works on any platform.

────────────────────────

cw: language, mentions “maul” “die” & sexual jokes

“do you not have any friends?” a tousled head of dirty blond stands before you, his toned arms crossed over his chest. it’s only been five minutes; he’s already cutting five years off of your lifespan.

there’s a heartbreaker kind of look in his eyes that warns you to avoid him. you ignore it. “that’s an odd question to ask a stranger.” he’s not your type anyway; it doesn’t matter how much he pesters you.

“we don’t have to be strangers.” he stretches his hand out. “I’m miya atsumu, and my friend thinks you’re hot.” friendly (suspicious), you shake it.

“you or your friend?”

as he opens his mouth to reply, the door chimes cut him off. three people walk in. one is trailing behind the two—defeated, like he’s failed a mission. you look at the one that talked to you, and then to him. twins, you note. this one’s got better hair.

there’s a reserved figure that walks ahead of them with an air of authority around him. the captain? you wonder, noticing the sport uniforms. he bows at you politely. you like this one.

“don’t listen to him.” the third person speaks up, and your mouth goes agape. he’s gorgeous. “sorry on his behalf.” he’s perfect.

“do you all play soccer or something?” you wince at their reactions.

“volleyball, actually.” — twin #1.

“oh! my bad!!!” you pale. god. “that’s cool. cool cool cool. cool.”

“cool with you if we get something to eat?” god’s favorite teases, all the others staring at you both. your ears turn a deeper shade of red each second.

“..huh?” you blank.

“oh. RIGHT. um, what can I get you?” you want to crawl in a hole and die, but hiding behind the counter will do for now.

you hear crickets as atsumu opens his mouth. “your number?”

“for suna here.” he adds as he gestures.

he clearly can handle himself, “ignore him. I’m not in the market for any relationships. nor am I interested.”

miya glares at him. “that’s mean, man. she looks disappointed.”

“I’m not.” you correct. “even if I was, it’s not like I’d have a chance.” your lips move faster than your brain.

“talk about self deprecating humor.” gray-haired twin #2 smiles at you, considerate. that lets your shoulders relax a bit.

“this is all really awkward,” suna says, “but we could really use some cupcakes or something.”

the captain steps up, and you maybe unintentionally notice that suna’s the tallest. “can we please get those cookies that were on twitter? if it’s not a problem.” he’s formal.

“sure. how many?”

“four.” the twins echo.

“make that three.” — s

you look up at him, confused. “you don’t want anything?”

“those look good.”

you follow his line of sight, and grin. iced lemon loaves.

“yeah. good pick.”

────────────────────────

author’s note: i made tsumu the punchline / punching bag in this au but oh well 😭 it had to be someone 😭 i also hate writing the embarassed / nervous character SO MUCH i cringe while i write.. i really don’t like this episode but idk what about my writing irks me here and IDK WHAT TO CHANGEEE i need 2 learn how to write dialogue better cause im DYINGGGGHHH OVER HERE

@phoenix-eclipses @thechaosoflonging @yuminako @nbcvs @tenjikusstuff4 @intergalacticrory @sonicsolos @yenonnoff @wyrcan @cnnmairoll @causenessus @reads-stuff-quietly @giocriedpower @applepi25 @gra-eae @lilchubbyyy @thvvluvr @toges-cough-syrup

[cliozaur]

Many people have already written about Les Misérables at Théâtre du Châtelet, so I’ll just add a few points of my own.

The best part was that this production was different from the West End version: the costumes, sets, and acting choices felt very refreshing.

The actors’ voices were fantastic. Some leaned a bit too operatic, but it worked well in the context. And finally! Finally, I’ve heard a good Cosette! Maybe I’ve just been unlucky in the past, but every Cosette I’d heard before was just squeaking. Here, Julitte Artigala’s singing was genuinely enjoyable. Claire Perot’s Fantine was good and extremely expressive – looking at her gestures I had a picture of Edith Piaf in my head.

The Thénardiers were surprisingly charismatic. Madame Thénardier came across as almost a tragic figure—her frustration with and anger at her husband were much more palpable than in the English version. I could truly feel her pain. Kids in the theatre (there were so many of them, despite some new quite explicit scenes) were laughing at most of Mme Thenardier’s jokes. Meanwhile, Monsieur Thénardier reminded me of an eccentric Jack Sparrow. It was also clever how they acknowledged having a female conductor: during the wedding feast, when Thénardier called for the “maestro,” she corrected him with “maestra.” Then the orchestra was revealed behind the main stage—it was a very cool moment.

At the factory, they did not show the working process; instead, the conflict took place during a lunch break, with everyone eating or resting—an interesting production choice.

Valjean was not dying alone—even before Cosette and Marius arrived—he was at the convent, being cared for by nuns. It’s much better and less heartbreaking than dying of grief and starvation in an empty dwelling. (I think I read a fanfiction based on this twist.)

There were also some nice touches in the French lyrics. For example, Cosette mentioned the doll from the shop window (Catherina) she dreamed about. Actually, “Castle on a Cloud” is called “La poupée dans la vitrine” (“The doll in the shop window”). For Fantine, it was wolves that came at night instead of tigers (we know that both animals are associated with Javert). Speaking of Javert, in his soliloquy, he mentioned regretting not dying like a soldier, which I found to be a nice touch.

My love goes to the ensemble, as always! You could feel how much they enjoyed performing.

There were so many small gestures—touches, hugs, and all kinds of body contact—that are usually absent from the West End production. People have already pointed out that Javert appears in the “Heaven” finale, shaking Valjean’s hand. It’s a lovely touch, though completely illogical. And during the final bow, Javert kissed Cosette’s hand.

However, there were a few elements that felt dangerous. They used a lot of open fire, and not always for justified reasons. Recently, I’ve heard Ian McKellen talking about how nineteenth century theatres often burned down, and this abundance of fire made me nervous. Another concern was Javert being perched on an extremely high platform during his soliloquy. I hope there was some kind of safety line in place.

What irritated me: Javert carrying a rifle during “The Confrontation”(and he never had a cudgel). Why give him a rifle if he doesn’t use it? (Insert a joke here about Les Misérables being much shorter if Javert had just used the rifle in the hospital scene.) And then… the bicycle. It wasn’t funny, and it wasn’t even historically accurate to the time period in that form!

The audience was incredibly enthusiastic, cheering so much that the cast came back for four curtain calls! And they seemed happy to oblige.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

Pussy Xavier: 7 Days Series (Day 2: Oral)

Ahahaha managed to write this when I got home from work. Took a solid hour, but it's here. Xavie getting eaten out by his loving partner. Oh to die between thighs...

Warnings: Oral Sex, Slight Teasing Synopsis: You were curious. Xavier's anatomy had changed…but did that mean his taste did as well. Thankfully for you, Xavier is always willing to sate your curiosity and allows you to test out his new flavor. Word Count: 4k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Fic Masterlist | Normal Masterlist

Day 2: Oral

"So, how long exactly did the Captain give us off?" Xavier asked, his hands playing with your hair as you sat on the ground between his legs. You took a bite of the chip in your mouth as you looked up at him and hummed.

"Well…" You began and then decided to swallow your food before speaking, "I talked with her yesterday after we got back home from our shopping trip. I told her that you had been affected by a wanderer and that we'd need to find a way to reverse it. I didn't give her the details and said it was personal, and she said she'd talk with Nero about it. I was actually texting him this morning."

You tilted your head up and saw the slightest pout on Xavier's face at the mention of your colleague. While Xavier had made leaps and bounds with his jealousy streak ever since you two made it official and moved in, he still had his moments. It wasn't just with anyone but the men close to you. He could sometimes get a little pouty. Some small words of assurance normally quelled his childish mood as you patted his thigh, "Xavier." You chuckled at his expression.

"What? I wasn't pouting…" He murmured as he looked away from you. It only caused you to laugh a little louder now as you pinched his inner thigh that was right next to your cheek.

"I didn't say you were pouting; all I said was your name." You pointed out, and he let out a sigh and then gave you a soft smile. His hand went back to your hair, threading through the locks as his nails gently scraped against your scalp.

"Alright, fine…well, what is Nero looking into then?" Xavier asked, and you gave him a proud smile.

"I explained what the wanderer that hit you looked like and sent him a quick doodle I did of it. He said it didn't narrow it down enough, but he'd look into wanderers that were known in the system to hit someone without causing damage but instead giving physical changes." You explained to him, "He said he'd probably have something by the end of the week at the latest. So we just gotta wait it out. Captain Jenna is fine with us both taking it off so I can take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," Xavier said, shaking his head.

"Did you want to take care of yourself?"

"Well…no." Another laugh came from you as you sighed and placed a kiss against his exposed thigh, then turned back over to the movie. It had been calm with you two at home. No cares in the world as you weren't stressing about work and filling out reports. You guys could just relax and take a staycation in order to reset yourselves. Being away from people like this was nice, and you didn't realize just how much you needed it until you woke up this morning and felt better than normal.

You grabbed one of the chips in the bag and lifted it up so Xavier could lean down and take it from you. You watched as he chewed on the food, and your eyes went back to the cheap horror film you had rented. It was one of those movies with horrible to no CGI, was clearly made on a budget, and was filled with cheesy jumpscares. You two had decided since there weren't any good horror movies that were released recently, you'd simply have to find the worst. This movie was the first of many you had in the lineup for the day.

You were engrossed in the film for a couple of minutes before you lost interest again. The plot was spinning in circles and made no sense at all, so it was hard for you to stay focused on the screen. You felt Xavier adjusting on the couch above you, his thigh pressing against your cheek.

The moment you felt the contact of him you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. All your dirty thoughts began flooding in your mind as you glanced back up at him. He was currently relaxing in his underwear and a white sweater. It wasn't uncommon for Xavier to be wearing things like this in the apartment; he always liked to be comfortable, and you'd never complain since it gave you something to look at when bored. Hell, even when he wore his sweatpants, you were staring at him, wondering how someone could still look so handsome in clothes that were considered 'lazy.'

Still, in just his underwear, the boyshorts you guys had bought yesterday, it had your mind spinning. It was right there above your head, and you knew you shouldn't have your mind in the gutter. He had just started to get used to having a vagina, well as used to it as he could get. He still had moments where he seemed uncomfortable, but ever since he learned the panty liner trick, he has been a lot more comfortable in his own skin.

Your inner musings were broken by Xavier himself as he cleared his throat to get your attention, "Is there something on your mind?" He finally asked, noticing how you were staring up at him rather than the screen. Xavier knew that conflicted look on your face well; you always wore it when you wanted to ask him something but were unsure of how he'd respond to it. So, instead, he coaxed you with a soft smile, "You can tell me I'm listening." Damn him and his soothing personality that always made you tell him everything on your mind.

You took in a deep breath before speaking, "If you're comfortable with it…can I taste you?" it had been on your mind since the very first time you saw it, and now you really wanted to taste it. Xavier always seemed to enjoy going down on you, and you had done so for him multiple times in the past for foreplay, but you didn't see the fascination he had with it. Maybe if you got to experience it, you'd be able to understand it better.

You watched Xavier pause as the words processed, the little cogs in his head working overtime before a flush went on his cheeks. He looked away from you for a moment before his gaze snapped back to lock eyes with you. "Have you been thinking about this for a while?" His voice was sweet and non-judgmental as he said this, which helped ease your anxieties over asking him for this.

"It's crossed my mind once or fifty times in the past two days." You admitted, and Xavier let out a small chuckle. You watched with wonder as he seemed to literally glow for a moment as he did so. It was a quirk you had recently discovered about him. He used to hold back his evol when he was happy or amused, but when it was just the two of you, he let it all go. Whenever he was very happy or laughing, his evol would flare up and make him glow slightly. It was the cutest quirk he had, in your opinion.

"I don't see why not. I enjoy going down on you, so it makes sense you'd want to try it." He finally said, and you felt like you were on cloud nine with his agreement. You were mentally cheering in your head as you turned in your spot and pressed your cheek against his thigh, one of your hands going to the opposite one and playing with it.

“Awesome…ah but you know…” You said, clearing your throat as the embarrassment took over, "I've never…gone down on…a…pussy before." You finally said, and Xavier pushed some of your hair out of your face and tilted your head up at the same time so you'd be forced to look at him.

"That's fine, I expected as much, and I don't have any expectations. I've never had this done to me, so it can be a first for the both of us." He said, and you pressed a kiss on his inner thigh in response. You watched his breath hitch at the motion, and he slowly began opening his legs a little wider for you.

You leaned in closer as you helped push his legs apart. You felt like your heart would beat right out of your chest with how nervous you felt right now, but you decided to tease him a little. You did what he often did to you and stuck your tongue out and licked up the front of his underwear. He let out a gasp while there was a barrier there; just the sight of you doing that was enough to make a moan come from him.

"H-hey…" he said, already pouting, "Don't be teasing me right now…" He murmured the last bit as you looked up at him and shot him a wink.

"Fine, fine, I won't tease you like you always do to me." You said as you began hooking your hands in the waistband of his underwear, "Can you lift your hips a little bit for me so I can take these off?" you asked. Xavier did as you asked, lifting his hips just enough for you to pull his underwear off. Just like the first time you did this, you could see a string of arousal connecting him to his underwear, and you actually did let out a small moan from this.

"You're right; you do get really wet." You comment, and Xavier's face went as red as a strawberry at your comment.

"I-uh…" he sputtered out but opted to look away. The panty liner in his underwear was absolutely soaking that you were surprised it hadn't soaked through his underwear as you tossed it aside.

"Lemme grab a towel real fast so we don't make a huge mess." You said, getting up to go over to one of the hallway closets where you kept all your linens. You grabbed a fluffy white towel and brought it over to Xavier. He lifted himself enough to let you slip it underneath him so his wetness wouldn't soak into the couch. The easier the cleanup was, the better, especially because you felt like this would get messy pretty fast. He was already soaking, and you hadn't even touched him yet. You briefly wondered how long he had been wet like this; it was no wonder he had been uncomfortable if this was how he was going about his every day.

You pushed his legs apart so you could see his glistening pussy that was absolutely mouthwatering to you. It just looked cute, like the rest of him, and you knew the moment your mouth was on him, he'd be making those adorable noises again. His moans were music for you, like a song you wanted to put on repeat every single day. You could see Xavier's breathing pick up for a second as he watched you between his legs.

You had no clue what you were doing, though, and you quickly realized. You knew sort of what motions he liked, and you knew what felt good when he was between your legs, so you just had to put those two little key components together. How hard could it really be? You were certain just about anything you did to him would probably feel good anyway; with how turned on he seemed to be, he looked desperate for some relief.

You decided to get a better angle and lifted his legs up so you could place them over your shoulder. You watched Xavier lean into the couch so his back was pressed against it. His hands were by his sides, already fisted slightly as he watched you with apt attention. He seemed about as eager as you did about the situation, so you decided to just go for it as you leaned closer to him. Your breath ghosted over him as you were right in front of him, and you felt how his leg twitched at just that.

"Is this position okay?" You asked; you would've been fine if he wanted to sit on your face, honestly, but you felt like that would be a little too much, at least for right now. Xavier nodded his head as his hands clenched and unclenched quickly.

"I-it's good, just…please." He said, his voice now breathy; you decided to stop torturing the both of you. With the flat of your tongue, you licked right up his center, your tongue pushing apart his folds. It was silky against you and sent a shiver down your spine as you looked up at him. You could also taste him, and you wanted more.

You had expected the slightly salty taste since you recalled reading about it, the taste that was definitely that of a pussy, but there was so much more to it. He tasted sweet to you, and you had to lick through his folds again to really taste him, and you wanted more.

"You taste so sweet…" You murmur against him as you make eye contact with him, "Is it normally so sweet?" You couldn't describe the taste exactly. It was just like Xavier to have a sweet taste to him, though. His kisses were sweet as well and always had you wanting seconds and thirds. You used to think kissing was just a weird thing when tongue was involved, but when it came to Xavier you wanted to consume him with your kisses.

"It uh…it tastes different every time…it always has the same essence, but the flavor is changing all the time." He explains to you. Gods, he shouldn't have said that. He really shouldn't have said that because now you wanted to put that theory to the test. Wake him up every morning just like this, with your face buried in his thighs and licking at the sweetness that was held between them.

You couldn't stop yourself from licking up again and moaning as the sweetness coated your tongue. You wondered briefly what his labia felt like, so you sucked gently on the skin there, and you heard him let out a shuddered gasp as he almost flinched away from you.

"Not good?" You asked, not doing it again, but you wanted to. It was soft in your mouth, the texture of him was everything you could've hoped for and more. Xavier let out a small grunt as he looked down at you between half-lidded eyes.

"It felt…good but strange." He finally said after a moment of silence between you two, "I didn't realize that area was so sensitive."

You pressed a kiss right over his cunt as you smiled against him, "There's a lot of parts down here that are sensitive, especially when someone else is stimulating them." You note, but you were giddy knowing that you knew another weakness of his. Just another method that you could break him with until he was gasping out your name. You felt like a damn pervert with all these thoughts, but at the moment, you couldn't care.

You decide to finally move onto his clit, gently licking directly over it and he let out a high pitched keen as he shut his eyes quickly. He didn't need to say it felt good; you knew it was because of the way he reacted. You normally had the same reaction when he did that to you, after all. You swirled your muscle around his clit, just like you had the other morning with your fingers, and you watched as he tried to grind himself closer to your face.

You felt his legs locking around you at this point, gently squeezing you as his ankles came together and tried to drag you closer to him. You repeated the motion again until you decided to push up on the hood of his clit to get directly to him.

This caused him to let out a hiss, and he flinched away from your mouth as you looked up, "Too sensitive here?" You murmured as you then went to circle his clit again. You watched as he tried to process words; his mouth hung open as he panted.

"M-mhn, it was…a lot when you directly touched it like that." He said, and you nodded your head. So he was a bit too sensitive for direct stimulation, you guessed, which was good to know since you knew what you were working with now. You decided to change it up, wanting to know what his walls would feel like against your tongue, so you trailed your tongue down until you could stick your tongue inside his entrance. The hand that wasn't squeezing his thigh went to play with his clit, repeating the motions your tongue had done earlier.

Xavier let out another pretty moan as he brought his hand up to his face, biting down on his knuckles in order to keep his noises down. That simply wouldn't do as you pressed a little harder on his clit so he would yelp at the sensation. He got the silent message as he then took his hand to push your hair out of your face so he could watch as your tongue fucked him.

You could feel how good he felt inside, the way the muscles squeezed and clenched against your tongue. You wished your tongue was longer, enough to reach his g-spot, but that would be impossible. Instead, you switched your method, replacing your tongue with one finger as your mouth found his clit again.

He was whimpering now, his thighs twitching against your shoulders as he tried dragging you closer without even realizing it. His hips were working against your mouth as if attempting to use your face as a grinding pad. You groaned at the thought as you went and sucked on his clit this time. You felt his grip on your hair tighten until it was almost painful as he tried whimpering out something.

"C-close mhn a-hah~" He barely managed to get it out, "S-so clo-ah, little more, please, please, please." He was stumbling over his words as he was practically begging for you to let him cum. You managed to get a second finger into him as you curled it against his g-spot. The moment you did that, it was over, like a dam breaking as he cried out your name in such a high-pitched tone it pierced your ears. You'd probably be imagining that voice calling out your name anytime you were alone in bed at this point.

His walls squeezed tightly against your fingers as he came, his voice broken in a hoarse cry as he continued grinding. The legs around your shoulders were now properly pressing you against his cunt, and the grip he had on your hair held you in place as he rode out your orgasm. You could barely breathe at this point as you worked him through it, lapping up the slick fluid that came out of him.

If this is how you died, you'd be fine with it. You could think of worse ways to die, actually, but being buried between your boyfriend's thighs as he continued to cry out your name like a prayer was probably the best possible way. His entire body was shaking as his grinding slowly came to a halt, and at this point, your lungs burned slightly from the lack of oxygen.

It was at that moment he seemed to come back to his senses as his legs lost their grip on you, and he let go of your hair. You popped up between his legs to suck in some much-needed air. You were panting just as bad as him as you looked at your work. His body was flush, his eyes barely able to stay open as he shuddered at the sight of you. He was messy, sure, his pussy now glistening so beautifully and dripping onto the towel. You were sure you had his slick all over your cheeks and chin as well if the feeling was anything to go off of.

You leaned down to wipe your face off with the towel underneath him, then brought it up between his legs to clean some of the wetness there that had accumulated. It wasn't as good as a warm, wet towel, but it did the job in getting him to stop dripping like he was in heat.

"I think this was the best thing to ever happen to me." You said once you managed to catch your breath again. You leaned forward and kissed his pubic mound, the coarse curls tickling your nose as you sat up on your knees. You placed both your hands by his hips after he dropped his legs from your shoulders.

"I-if you ever wanted to do that again, help yourself." Xavier finally said as he, too, caught his breath. His entire body was still buzzing from the aftershocks of the orgasm, but he could at least think again, something he had lost the ability to do the moment he felt your breath against him. You chuckled as you pressed another kiss to his thighs before you started to get up so you could crawl onto the couch.

Xavier was quick to grab hold of you and drag you, so you were now straddling his lap. One of his hands went to your cheek as he dragged you down for a kiss. You were both smiling into it as he nipped at your lower lip, clearly wanting to deepen it. You happily obliged, feeling his tongue against yours caused you to moan into him as he tasted himself on you. He realized you were very correct in your assessment. He did taste sweet, and it was even better since he could taste you as well now.

You two stayed like that for a little while, just kissing one another and gasping whenever one of you decided to teasingly nip at one another until Xavier was finally pulling back to look at you. His hand was still cupping your cheek as you leaned into his touch and closed your eyes as you basked in his attention.

"You know, we should probably start cleaning up." You murmured. While you had wiped him down, you guys still needed to get his underwear back on and maybe actually get a wet towel this time to make sure all the slick was cleaned up. You would also need to run your face under some water so your cheeks wouldn't have any residual stickiness on them.

Still, you took the chance to begin peppering kisses all over his face. He laughed into it, the subtle glow of his evol kicking back in now, and you took a moment to admire him. His cheeks still had a rosy hue, and he seemed to be relaxed and content right now. It made your heart swell as you fought back the urge to just smother him in affection right now. You knew if you started, you wouldn't be able to stop, at least…not for a good while, that is.

Then you felt him placing a hand on your hip, "Why do we need to get cleaned up right now?" he asked, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes.

You could only raise an eyebrow in question, "Xavie, I told you we have to. "You were quickly cut off by a kiss. When he parted, you had a small pout on your lips, and he kissed your forehead next.

"No, I meant, why do we have to clean up now. I haven't had my turn yet." You felt his hand going to the waistband of your shorts, and a shiver wracked down your spine as you caught onto what he was implying.

"Alright, fine…but after this, we're taking a bath." You said, and then another kiss was placed on your cheek.

"Sounds good to me." He muttered before he managed to work your pants down your thighs.

MDNI and Support Banners by Cafekitsune Image used in Title Banner by LeaderinCrows on X and Bluesky

[fellshish]

I have a question, and my name is Sal.

I grew up watching Coraline as a kid. It was my jam. I loved that movie, and I will forever say Henry Selick deserved more attention for making it.

I like the Dresden Dolls and Evelyn Evelyn (Amanda Palmer projects) I still have the songs stuck in my head. You know where this is going.

I know you said that fans of works should still enjoy the work even if the creator sucks. And I can do that with Kubrick and Aaron Fechter, but that’s because Kubrick is dead, and most of Aaron Fechter’s IP got ripped away from him and is gladly in the hands of the public (despite how much he likes to sue).

Gaiman (and Palmer) are still alive and/or profiting off their stuff. Not to mention, I want to bring attention to the situation and help bring justice to the victims. Yet everytime I post about it or reblog what someone else put into words what I think, I feel like I’m virtue signalling.

How do I handle it and is it bad that I keep thinking of the art that influenced me by them instead of what they did (in a way to soften the blow to how horribly they abused these women)?

(You can respond to this publicly, as I am sure people are thinking the same thing somewhere. I am sorry for dumping all this on you.)

hi sal!

sorry, this got long. your ask was so genuine and i was afraid of getting it wrong. 

i want to start this off by saying i am not the boss of anyone’s fandom experience. everyone gets to decide for themselves how they proceed after learning about the numerous women who have come forward against neil gaiman.

the things you mention are things i’ve struggled with too — last year when i first learned about it, when i listened to the podcasts and recently again reading even more detailed (and horrifying) news reporting.

these are also struggles shared by many fans in many fandoms of creators who were accused and/or controversial and/or convicted. for example many (trans) people i know have grown up loving harry potter, and have had to deal with their favourite writer waging a vendetta against trans lives. some still participate in the hp fandom without supporting her. they can’t help their hyperfixation and still find a lot of good and a lot of friends in the fandom. 

because yes, i do believe that someone can stay in such a fandom as ethically as possible. as in: i try the best that i can to make sure no further financial gains go to the creator. that means i avoid watching official streams, buying official merch, going to official cons, going to plays based on his work etc. i also amplify the women’s voices by spreading the article. 

the thing to keep in mind is: there is a difference and a distance between a creator and a fandom of what they created. a huge wall even. fandom is about community, friendships, creativity, … i am on a playground playing with the characters with my friends. sharing art and fics and gifs etc. and what those characters and stories mean to me are positive things. 

the core is this: if you have to live your life only consuming art by morally pure people (and who determines that?!) then you will have very little left to enjoy. 

and of course i understand the urge to want to help the victims, and the guilt/worry about virtue signaling. i’m going to break those down separately.

i think the idea of ‘helping bring justice to the victims’ is good but it also puts an unreasonable amount of responsibility on your young shoulders. here’s what’s already happened: the women’s voices have been heard, there is now more widespread media covering, he has lost his reputation, hasn’t been on his platforms since last summer, he’s losing (film) projects of his work, … what else consequences are yet to come, legally or otherwise, we’ll have to see. the responsibility for that lies not with you as one single fan but with lawyers etc. and you might find it important to keep vigilant that the story doesn’t get buried (again). in that case reblogging isn’t virtue signalling but useful.

but it’s also unreasonable to expect someone to continually do that for days and days. that’s a quick ticket to depression. ultimately tumblr is, to many, a fandom space. some people use it only for pleasant fandom activities. and what if they do? you can’t know a person’s whole life: maybe they are survivors who are too triggered to participate, maybe they’ve donated to causes that help survivors, maybe they have shared the story on other platforms etc

you asked “is it bad that I keep thinking of the art that influenced me by them instead of what they did”, and i found that the most heartbreaking part of your ask. it isn’t helpful to you or to anyone to keep torturing yourself with guilt. you’re aware of the allegations, and that’s good. but don’t burn yourself out trying to live up to the impossible standard of a morally pure activist that doesn’t exist. please stop being your own thought police. 

i think the fact you struggle so deeply, shows what a beautiful person you are.

now you’re going to be reading a lot of opinions. some very different from mine. am i right in continuing in fandom? i don’t know. this is my first time living life too. but i AM right that you’re a good person.

that said: protect your heart. block freely and curate a fandom space that makes you happy. avoid engaging in endless internet discourse that is bad for your mental health. step away for a while if that is what you need.

these are some intense days but i promise it gets better. the kid who loved coraline can still love coraline, but is just more informed now. 

the main rule of fandom is: does it spark joy? if yes, embrace it, because that’s a wonderful and rare thing to have.

[youremyheaven]

Random Astrology Observations

Moon in the 1h is often talked about like 🥺🥺wears their heart on their sleeve🥹🥹uwu softie way but tbh Moon in 1h can make someone incredibly manipulative, they know just what to say and when to say it and know how to work their audience, this is perhaps why this placement is found in the charts of soooo many successful actors. ex: Leonardo DiCaprio, Audrey Hepburn, Henry Cavill, Charlie Chaplin, Priyanka Chopra, Antonio Banderas, Brendan Fraser, Benicio Del Toro, Jared Padelecki, Val Kilmer, Adrien Brody etc

I think this is a very manipulative placement, again manipulation is not in and of itself a bad thing, its what we use it for that matters. Some people completely lack the ability to manipulate at all (they don't have Moon influence)

2. Debilitated placements point to unconventional intelligence & wisdom in that area. I feel like they've cracked the code . They struggle a lot but when they triumph it's magic

3. I've mentioned this in other posts but many notorious sex offenders have Venus influence. Actions of this sort, as well as criticizing others' beauty, not taking care of yourself/surroundings, being shabby or disorderly in general are all things that harm your Venus. Abusing someone is the quickest way to ruin your Venus, you start corroding and that ugliness begins to manifest on the outside.

Ex: Harvey Weinstein looks like a cartoonish villain

4. As I explore the astrology content put out by others across different platforms, I've seen how the nature of the take themselves are so specific and unique to the person making them. Claire Nakti has a tendency imo to focus heavily on romance, sex and women's sexual behaviour and what sort of men they attract.

Going through her website, it's obvious that she's deeply immersed in occult & esoteric philosophy (all of which ties together with vedic astrology, philosophy, Buddhism etc because I truly believe that spiritual truths are universal and different schools of thought/religion/culture/mythology express these same truths in their own way with a LOT of recurring patterns) and Carl Jung as well.

It's studying Jung that helped me understand that what we see or draw from something is a reflection of who we are. As a beginner to vedic astrology, I initially believed Claire's one dimensional portrayal to be the all encompassing truth of a nakshatra until I started doing my own reading and research.

The things I talk about or the patterns I find are a reflection of me and I get a lot of asks about why I don't do xyz nak and honestly it's not as simple as doing research for an essay for uni, you kind of have to have a gnosis or innate knowing of its themes, something to base your search off of. And different naks call to me at different points. I come across content that describes certain naks in lights i could've never imagined which is to say that gnosis or inner knowing is an important aspect of studying anything esoteric, it kind of has to be revealed to you and what you see, what you can discern is a reflection of you.

5. you have to have a strong Rahu to discern patterns and similarities because Rahu is maya/illusion and a well-placed Rahu will allow you to see through those patterns/illusions. it will be very hard for someone without a strong Rahu to find similarities or common tropes, patterns, themes etc. Seeing through the veil or fog is Rahuvian.

6. Claire Nakti made a video about Venusian men where she said they were the ideal type of man and tbh that just confirmed my suspicion that she's Moon dominant because I think Moon dominant people are attracted to Venusians but in my humble opinion both Venusian men and Moon dominant men are some of the most batshit crazy people (manipulative and controlling at the least, psychopathic at worst) basically men who have a lot of Yin tend to be psychotic

7. I've noticed that Revati people tend to speak in a very verbose way. Nigella Lawson, Revati Moon is a really good example. Obviously other placements will also impact speech

8. Moon dominant people hate it when others share sob stories. They're the type to have the least amount of empathy for others and will either react in a neutral way or like they don't understand why you're saying this stuff at all. They're bored by other people's mundane problems and make it known as well. Not people you want to open up to.

My former friend was this way, I once cried in front of her and she showed zero emotion and didn't even try to comfort me lol

9. The way others treat us is the way we treat others. ik this is a basic take but karma is cause and effect. if you're dismissive of others feelings, other people will be dismissive of yours. what you do is what will be done unto you. Its so crazy to see how people who've been treated like shit by their friends will turn around and treat other people like shit. this is sooo basic but genuinely dont do anything to others that you dont want done to you.

[megumishousewife]

Megumi x Chubby! Gamer Part 2

A/N: I'm so sorry I kept yall waiting for part two, college life was kicking my butt but (double butt) please enjoy bae🫶🏽

It wasn’t even a full 24 hours and you were trending on Twitter overnight. You saw that you had gained at least half a million subscribers on all of your platforms, not to mention how you were tagged in many videos about Megumi. Ignoring your growing fame, you opened your Twitter page and saw the poll that you had uploaded last night to see that over 95% of voters wanted you to meet your favorite streamer. You were shocked by how many people were so engrossed with your little crush that it caused you to laugh.

“Wow, it’s 10 AM and Twitter is losing their mind,” You mumbled to yourself.

You knew that you were not exactly ready to meet Megs in person because you already know with no established meeting of any kind is just bound to cause an awkward interaction. You thought about another solution while you handled the business portion of your day, responding to emails and accepting sponsors. While answering after answering an email from an Indie horror game creator, you stumbled upon a message in your inbox that you were not expecting. The sender read Megumi Fushiguro with the subject topic being “possible collab?”. You felt your heart drop to your stomach. The feeling of the world closing in on you was prevalent in this moment. Your YouTube crush….WANTS TO COLLAB?! You took the time to thank your fans in your head as you read the email, trying to contain your need to burst into tears of joy. The email reads:

Dear Y/N,

I’m pleased to see that our fans are interested in us growing a bond with each other. I, as well, was interested in you and your content so I wanted to ask if you were interested if you would like to do a video together. Let me know your answer and please follow up with ideas. Thank you for your time!

Sincerely,

Megumi Fushiguro

You tried your hardest to not squeal in excitement. You read the entire email all over again, just imagining it in his voice and you gushed about how cute he would probably sound trying to be serious. You took a moment to respond, gather your thoughts and try to be as professional as possible.

Dear Mr. Fushiguro,

Sorry for being so formal, but I would love to do a collab with you! I’m sorry for the social media uproar, I bet you're not used to THIS kind of attention. I would like to play “It Takes Two” since it’s more of a duo game anyways. If you could tell me a day that is good with you, I can clear my schedule. Thanks!

Sincerely,

Y/N

You flopped on your bed and kicked your feet giddily for a split second. You looked at your clock and decided to do an early morning stream to thank your audience and tell them your surprise (you couldn’t wait because you would have tweeted that you're doing a video with your crush). Getting back into influencer mode, you started setting up your lighting for your stream as the intermission screen was on for your viewers so they couldn’t see you and your nervous jitters. Sitting down, you took a quick breather before clicking your fans over to see your facecam.

“Hi guys! There’s about 5,000 of you guys here. I know I just saw you guys yesterday but I missed you all! Welcome back, welcome back. As you can tell by the title of this stream, I have a special announcement for all of you! Let’s allow a few more people to come in and I will make my announcement.

While you and your fans waited, you said hello to a few people, some asked you how your morning has been so far. Others asked about your Youtube content and you replied holding a finger over your lips, smiling. After ten minutes of friendly chatting, you decided to drop the bomb.

You began, “Before I tell you my announcement, I just wanted to thank you guys for even making this possible. For all your hashtags and tweets to bring attention to little ole me, I thank you all. Sooo, yo get to the point for you guys… I am currently working on collabing with Megs and I can’t wait to start filming for it!”

You saw your chat blow up with “Let’s go” or “you finna get your manz” and all you could do was giggle at how supportive your fans were.

“Guys, relax. All we are doing is playing a game and no, you won’t find out until I release the video.”

You got an email notification and saw that it was from Megumi and it said: “Open it on stream ;)”. Your mouth dropped open and you looked at your webcam.

“Megs wants you guys to see his recent email.”

Your chat was going crazy, asking if you read it yet or just straight up telling you to read it.

“No, I have not read the email yet. We can all read it together.”

You shared your screen with your chat and began reading the email to them. It reads:

Y/N, I’m pleased to work and get closer to you in the future. When you’re done with your stream, send me an email with your number so I can call you.

~Megs

All you could do was scream in the mic while your fans spammed W’s in the chat, probably having the same reaction as you.

--------------------------------------------------------

Nobara smiled hard at the screen watching your priceless reaction.

She said, “My god, Yuji, I think you made this girl lose her mind over Megumi. Gosh, she’s so cute.”

Behind her, Megumi had Yuji in a chokehold while Yuji tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Look, Megumi,” Yuji said, “She’s happy about the email and you’re overreacting! Don’t get mad at me because I tried to add a little rizz to your emails.”

Megumi released Yuji, “ I was trying to be professional and you-”. Megumi’s face was turned by Yuji, forcing him to continue to look at your blushing face on stream as you spoke highly about him with a smile on your face, admiring your chubby face radiating on his big screen. He slapped Yuji’s hands away and walked towards his kitchen, blushing.

Nobara high-fived Yuji and whispered, “Good job, Cupid!”

-

-

-

taglist!: @definitely-notalissa (as promised babes🤞🏽)

[thedarkmistress16]

Stalker!Yandere!Tony Stark x Fem!Reader- To Steal and Dote On (Internet stalking, Collecting personal information without consent, Using personal information without consent, This billionaire has resources and he's going to use them, Breaking and entering, Theoretical threats of kidnapping and violence, Invading Reader's privacy without consent, Tony has Reader brainrot already)

Chapter 1 |

Chapter 2: Forget You (Not)

——————————————————————————————————

Only, Tony wasn’t able to shake off the thought of you at all. If anything, you took up his primary focus throughout his day.

A part of him did genuinely forget the party last night as he sat in mind-numbing meetings back-to-back, only attending them now due to his irate assistant chewing him out over it. She practically pushed the billionaire out of the kitchen before coffee even greeted his body, yapping his ear off over technicalities and investors he couldn't care less about. Even though Tony was itching to poke at her in this state, to mention his admiration for how her red hair looked like glowing fire spouting from a dragon when she got like this, he got the strong sense that she would quit if he missed another business meeting.

But he was incredibly bored and disinterested, and you kept plaguing his thoughts with more questions that got his brain desperately intrigued. He couldn’t even distract himself with anything else because none of it was as gear-turning as to the mystery of you.

Your confusion, your… disinterest? Never had he encountered someone who wasn’t there for him specifically, or seemed to have no interest in who he was.

And the fact you just… sat there. It was so out of place, like a nagging flaw in a blueprint he couldn't put his finger on.

Why were you there, if you didn’t care about Tony Stark?

Who were you?

That train of thought led to the male instructing his A.I. to scanning your facial profile from the security cameras of his tower right after he was finally free from the drudgery of business— contently settled into his lab with a fresh batch of coffee. Luckily, the feed from last night got a good look at you. It was a better view than the tipsy haze of his memory, he noted. The mostly-clear footage of your face allowed the system to swiftly correlate your likeness to other documented matches— a pool of candidates was completed in the time it took for him to take a long swig that burned his tongue and throat.

What came up was a compiled list of look-alikes that Tony had to manually rifle through in the hopes that one of them would be you and mentally grumbled to himself that you looked like too many people.

Tony grew more irked by the second up until the last result, which was your red carpet picture in front of his building. Tracking the source, he was led to a tabloids website and found that even the photographers had no idea who you were. Your picture was simply sourced as “guests attending a Stark party,” not counting the other woman with you in the image.

He realized that the whole thing was a waste of time. This is why he didn’t do the menial work himself: it was tedious and boring and he had nothing to show for it. Not even a name. You literally didn’t exist on any social media or content platform besides a useless picture just floating there on the internet.

Tony shot up from his chair to pace. He ran his hands through his hair, furiously muttering to himself.

“No social presence? No footprint— no… nothing?”

That’s…really smart, actually.

He hates it. And he hates to admit it, but…

But a small part of him respects you for it, too.

His head whipped back to the monitor glowing before him, patiently idling for a new order. Narrowing his eyes, the man marched back over to the console, furiously typing in a similar command. The process would take longer than he would like, but he was sure he would get his match.

“Who are you, sweetheart?” Tony mused distractedly to the image of your face on one of his monitors, hoping to find a sliver of treasure amidst a sea of coal.

——————————————————————————————————

Entering the lobby of your workplace was as it always is: white tile textured with marbling stains, wood paneling hugging the walls, a white and gray reception desk overlooking the room. Folks came and went from your line of vision, entering and disappearing into elevators and corridors, the leftover sounds of their jabbering following close behind them in the air. Many workers held various brews of caffeine or small breakfast items as they passed by, which had your stomach growling despite already filling it before you left your apartment.

It takes you a more than the typical few minutes to get to your work floor, the elevator being unusually popular for a Monday. You ponder over it to pass the time as you stand there, entertaining the thought of someone important stopping by. When the elevator dings for your stop, you step out and shuffling over to your desk, providing a couple “hellos” and “good mornings” to the associates that greet you along the way. Settling down into your office chair, you boot up your computer as you place and arrange the belongings you fish out from your purse.

You look around the drab space as you wait for the desktop to appear so you can clock in. Your friend and coworker doesn’t seem to be here yet. You contemplate what (Friend Name) got up into last night, if that is her reason for running late. Or rather, who she got with. You laugh to yourself as you drag your mouse over to bring up the company time clock, setting a mental reminder to ask her later when she shows up.

You click open the app used for business emails and you sigh softly at the unreads, sucking in a breath and sitting straighter.

Back to work as usual.

——————————————————————————————————

It was quite some time later before (Friend Name) bounded into the office with a pep in her step. And despite prodding her with your curiosity, she was determined to only reveal anything at lunchtime, which was a couple hours away. She also wanted to discuss it inside the building today instead of the cafe, which caused you to raise a brow. She waved you off and you had shrugged. You tried to focus back on your work, but the suspense of her answer kept eating at you until then, where you realized you didn’t get much done at all.

Now, you were both seated in one corner of the break room, had your meals and drinks pulled out, and were ready to dig in. Your brain, however, couldn’t help but bring up the topic the moment you uncapped your takeaway salad and raised your plastic fork.

“How’d your night go? Did you have fun?” You question good-naturedly before shoveling some greens into your mouth.

“Yeah,” She sighs, unwrapping a granola bar. “But I didn’t stay the night.”

You pause, utensil and speared salad pieces hovering in mid-air, as you turn your head to look at her properly. She munches on the bar of oats sprinkled with fruit and nuts for a moment, catching stray crumbs at the corners of her lips and licking them off before elaborating. “Something came up and he had to take care of it, so we called it a night.” She pauses, looking at her snack thoughtfully and clearly reminiscing. “He was sorry enough to drop me off, though.”

“Oh,” you breathe, resuming the bite of your food and chewing it on one side of your mouth. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, it was.” (Friend Name) trails off, releasing a dejected sigh. “So,” her mood shifts as she throws her hair over her shoulders and leans in toward you with vibrant green eyes sparkling of curiosity. “What did you get up to last night? Meet anyone interesting~?” You nervously smile at the sudden attention and shift in the topic, an awkward blush painting your face. You take a sip of your drink and clear your throat to gather your thoughts.

“No one special,” you shrug casually, collecting more lunch on your fork, “just some guy who was full of himself and calling me sweetheart.” There wasn't much to tell concerning the details, anyway.

Her nose wrinkles in distaste, responding with an “ew, gross.” You heartily laugh at her reaction as she shudders. She was never one for pet names like that— it reminds you of one person she dated, who never called her by her name and insisted on nicknames like that. Her features relax back into an easy smile, turning her attention back eating. “Well, I’m glad he didn’t get your number, then.”

As you look down at your lunch, a soft chuckle escapes you as you shake your head in agreement.

“Yeah, definitely not.”

——————————————————————————————————

Finally— finally— he struck gold.

Documented records of the institutions you attended in your life: really just schools and appointments, but it was something. Your yearbook photos helped, too. Only the newest information mattered, however, so he only took note of your most recent forms of contact to date.

It took a lot of outside the box thinking to get there, but that was what Tony Stark did best. He hopes you'll appreciate all the effort he took to go after you when you find yourself in his presence once more, enjoying his company and what his bed has to offer.

But first things first.

He rings up your number, already mouthing what he will say when he hears your voice. He’s more excited than he should be, but can’t find it in himself to care.

It keeps ringing.

He closes his eyes, imagining your expression when you find out it’s him— your lips curving into a smile as you start to say his name—

He gets the voicemail lady instead.

Confused, he sits there for a moment in silence before he tries again.

He’s greeted with a single ring before the same script plays. Did your phone die? Was it powered off? What was happening?

Furrowing his brows, Tony instructs his A.I. to deliver a message.

He compiles something short and flirty, just aiming to get your attention and to reel you in a bit. He sends it off, and almost immediately, the sophisticated, deadpan male voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. informs him that the message wasn't sent.

Okay.

You either blocked his number or your phone is off. Or it just sucks at texting for some reason.

The male purses his lips in thought. He needs to try a different approach, he supposed.

Going back to square one, Tony finds a piece of information that causes a playful smirk to slowly grow upon his face.

Well, he always did like a challenge.

——————————————————————————————————

“Something special just for you, (Name). —Your knight in rose-gold armor❤️💛”

That’s all the italicized note said.

The fancy slip of cardstock that was attached to the package on the floor wrapped in cellophane.

The gift sitting innocently in front of your apartment door when you arrived home from work.

Inspecting it as you bring it inside, the more confused and skeptical you get.

This…

You flipped the box over multiple times in the vain hope of finding a different answer or something new to go off of. It yielded nothing substantial, other than the fact that this was likely delivered to you from some kind of store that gift-wraps their products. Exactly who ordered this in the first place, however, is something you can’t determine. A sender’s address is nonexistent.

If this really was for you, then…

It was completely wrong.

Whoever sent this to you had no idea who you were because the assortment of chocolates had multiple flavors you didn’t care for, and would render the whole box a waste under your possession. There was only one specialty kind that you were willing to try, and even then it was filled with extra tastes that you didn’t really care for in your sweets.

You squinted at the packaging, trying to file through your memories, but you had never heard of this brand in your life.

Thankfully, the box did contain the reliable milk chocolate flavor, as well as darker coco and lighter milk and sugar versions as standalones. So, you figured, it would be a safe bet to sample that one first to see if their base for chocolate recipes were passable.

You hesitantly brought the confection to your lips and let it hover there, now wondering what kind of razor blades or poisonous concoctions were stuffed into this thing. But if someone wanted you dead, why would they make it this elaborate? Wouldn’t there have been some tell of any tampering before you opened it? Feeling ridiculous over your own thoughts, you bite the bullet. Pinching your eyes shut, you threw the piece of chocolate into your mouth.

You bit down, felt a more gooey substance ooze its way onto your tongue, and widened your eyes when the flavor hit you.

You immediately spat the thing out in the garbage can and raced over to your fridge for a palette cleanser. Snatching the first jug you saw, you drank directly from the container and realized too late that it was an acidic juice you picked out.

It paired worse than wine would, surely.

After most of the vile concoction was washed away from your taste buds, you smacked your lips and tried to process the lingering aftertaste.

Glaring at the offending box of chocolates, you took no time in propelling it towards the same bin where it belonged.

Forget figuring out where that came from.

You wouldn’t even give that to your worst enemy.

——————————————————————————————————

“You’ll thank me for this later, hun.” Tony mused to himself as he balanced the handle of a screwdriver in his mouth, putting the finishing touches on the camera in your studio-sized living room. As much as Tony wanted to cover the whole area of the unit itself, he knew not to overdo any more than he really needed to.

The man had no idea if the luxury chocolates he ordered went over well, and was itching to find out sooner rather than later. The very next day on a sunny mid-afternoon with a toolbox in tow, Tony visited your side of the city in his iron suit. He landed on the roof of your apartment, leaving the armor there as he climbed down the fire escape until he reached your level. He found an almost-closed window and had his A.I. scan for any lifeforms inside before he pushed the creaky wooden frame up and crawled through. And then Tony— after making sure you weren’t in another room and about to catch him— happened to glance down into your kitchen trash can. That hurt his feelings of course, but it fueled him to win your favor just the same. He only needed to get a sense of how you lived and what you liked, so he could woo you better when he revealed himself.

He hoped a woman like you enjoyed a mystery, because his work as Iron Man simply didn’t allow him to date you properly as he would’ve preferred— and he was too interested to simply forget about you. Even if he did manage to talk to you, a public relationship would be a no-go; the paparazzi alone would have you running for the hills. So, if you wouldn’t entertain digital communication with him, then virtually keeping tabs on you as your secret genius, billionaire, philanthropist, superhero admirer would have to do.

That was all.

Not because you were so elusive that it was driving him up the wall and he needed some reassurance grounding him that— yes, you did exist— and weren’t evading him on purpose or forgot him entirely.

No— he assured himself as he adjusted the device above him, not at all.

Besides, he got into your apartment too easily. The area you lived in was unruly, at best. And you needed protection. You could be snatched up out of thin air with no one the wiser as to your dissappearance. This way, even if he isn’t physically there for you or watching it happen back in his tower, he can at least use the footage from the cameras to gather the clues necessary to track you. Flying in as Iron Man, he’ll make the perpetrator sorry he even existed— break every bone of his that so much as touched you, and be your hero. And your relationship will blossom from there. Tony was doing you both a service by installing his tech in your apartment, if anything.

But what you didn’t know won’t hurt you.

While he was a genius, and was confident that his level of intelligence surpassed yours, he had no clue how perceptive you actually were. Installing too many surveillance cameras in your home would pose a risk to the subtlety of the operation he was trying to maintain, despite his desire to map every corner of your unit. Besides, more evidence of his work meant a higher probability of being discovered. Which meant a bigger chance for the devices to be knocked out of place and exposed to you later down the line. Even accidentally, Tony couldn’t have that.

Wiping his calloused hands on his jeans, the male assessed his additions to your apartment, triple-checking their installations and positioning. After making small adjustments here and there and test driving the feeds with his Stark phone, he was all set.

Tony’s troubleshooting finished with the last camera in your bedroom— and as he looked up, his eyes flitted over towards the ajar door leading out of the area he was standing in. Leaning forward with a squint to his eyes to peek through the crack yielded a wider expanse of the drab and cracked white tile, a mirror protruding from the wall, and various products cluttering the countertop of a sink directly under the hanging glass.

He sucked in a breath before spinning on his heel and marching right the fuck out of your bedroom.

No— he thought to himself. He would not be doing that.

It was one line he refused to cross.

——————————————————————————————————