#t: the spy and the liar

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 3

C-R-O-W-N-E-D from Kirby's Return to Dream Land Deluxe

vs.

The Spy and the Liar from I Expect You to Die 2: The Spy and the Liar

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

The Spy and the Liar:

A Bond theme pastiche sung by the incredible Puddles Pity Party.

[hauntedwitch04]

Wrong time, right person

Azriel x reader

Words: about 3.3k words

Warnings: smut, smut, Iforgot to say smut, and Azzy himself ;)

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 3: Sex pollen

It's an easy mission they said.

Touch and go, they won't even know you passed by they said.

Assholes. Liars. Bastards. Especially liars though.

This is all I can think of as the Shadowsinger and I find ourselves running through the trees being chased by the guards of the lord we had gone to spy on. Someone must have warned of our arrival, because a few minutes after arriving on the spot, we were already surrounded by enemies. We fought to the end, but were forced to retreat into the woods, seeking safety in escaping through that labyrinth of logs, hoping that those stupid enforcers would not be able to follow us.

It seems like hours that we are running when we finally decide to stop, in the vicinity of a cave, so that we can find refuge from the darkness and our pursuers.

"We finally lost those assholes." My companion comments, sitting back against the cave wall, leaning his head against the rock and showing his neck, leaving it exposed to my gaze.

That simple gesture kindles a fire in me that burns brightly, and I feel compelled to look away. I close my head between my legs and feel Azriel's gaze on me as he approaches. I feel him rest a hand on my shoulder, and I can't help but moan at that simple contact. I feel my cheeks get hot, but he doesn't flinch and asks me worriedly, "Hey, are you okay?" I can't bring myself to look at his face so I nod slightly still with my head between my legs and mutter a nonsensical apology. He still tries for a moment to wrest the truth from my lips, but I don't even flinch for a second. Azriel, seeing then that I did not intend to explain anything, stands up.

"I'm going to gather some wood for the fire, or we'll freeze to death tonight." He says, as he approaches the exit of the cave. I glimpse from below my knees the color of the sky, which is now turning blue.

"Okay, I'll stay here." I tell him in a whisper loud enough for him to hear me. I guess he nods, before walking out of our shelter, leaving me to think about why I took that action earlier. Ever since we escaped from the building I feel a strange sensation permeating my body, but I hadn't given it too much thought before since my priority was to run away from the guards, but it's as if after all that effort that feeling has expanded to the nth degree. It almost feels as if my body no longer belongs to me: I feel a wet sensation between my panties, while the fabric of my T-shirt brushing against the skin of my breasts sends shivers down my spine as my nipples harden against my bra. I squeeze my thighs together trying to ease that sensation, but it all proves futile. I feel a wave of embarrassment rise through my body again, thinking that this is all due only to a small gesture from the Shadowsinger.

Eventually I decide to lie down and try to get some sleep hoping that with a good dose of rest the next day I would wake up feeling better than I am now. I lie down with some difficulty on the floor only to fall unconscious in the arms of Morpheus after a few seconds.

But all is in vain, because in the middle of the night I suddenly wake up all sweaty. I sit up while with one hand I hold my chest. I feel the fire from before writhing in my gut, and on instinct my other hand goes to my center automatically, but realizing my gesture I immediately freeze.

Azriel was sitting in front of the fire, and seeing me feeling so sick he immediately approaches me, touching my forehead to feel if I had a fever. Immediately he retracts his hand feeling how hot I am, and makes me lie of me.

"You try to lie to me one more time about feeling good, and I swear I will never make you go on a mission with me again, and I will make sure Rhysand doesn't either." Says Azriel, as he removes part of my suit, to let the cold night wind cool me down a little. I again find myself letting escape a moan of pleasure as I feel that cool night breeze brush against my warm skin. I feel my nipples becoming turgid as I somehow try to get away from the Shadowsinger's constant touch, which is only making the situation I am in worse.

"I would say now is not the time to lecture me Az." I reply as I try to catch my breath. The Illyrian looks conflicted, but finally stands up and looks me straight in the eye.

"I'll try to do something. You stay here, and in case you give a yell, I'll be back here in less than a second." Says Azriel before disappearing into the night.

I stay looking at the place where he disappeared for a few minutes, trying to distract myself from the feeling of pain and the impossibility of having what my body desires, but finally I give in and begin to slowly run the fingers of my right hand over my center. I immediately feel the pain lessen, but like a drug, this never seems to be enough and I need more and more. My other hand wanders down my body until it rests on my breast and I begin to stimulate one of my nipples. My right hand I run it under my pants and for the first time my fingers come in contact with the wet lips of my pussy.

I remain in that limbo situation for what feels like an eternity experiencing enough pleasure to not die of pain and at the same time not enough to be completely well.

After what seems like hours, I hear Azriel's heavy footsteps getting closer. Quickly I try to look presentable, but immediately the lack of that little antidote causes me more pain than I felt before. I feel twinges in my abdomen that make me bend over, but despite this I look up at the man in front of me, and I cannot help but curse Mother for creating such a perfect being: he has not slept in days, he is drenched in sweat and tired, and yet he continues to be the most attractive person I have ever seen.

He stops to catch his breath, and only then do I realize that he no longer has the cape he was wearing before, in fact now his muscular arms are clearly evident, thanks in part to the tank top he was wearing.

"Where did your cloak go?" I ask, trying to distract myself in a very unsatisfactory way.

"I had to give it to Suriel, to get him to help me understand what you have." He says casually as he approaches me. At that gesture I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He then places his lips on my forehead to test whether I still have a fever. That gesture again unleashes a fire capable of burning whole woods in my stomach, and I groan, almost in pain, pushing him away from me.

"Did I hurt you?" Azriel asks worriedly, and I wave him off, so as not to worry him, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"What did Suriel tell you?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Well, as we were running away you spilled a jar of powders on yourself as we were going through that sorceress's store, remember?" Azriel says, looking at the ground, as if ashamed. I nod, remembering very well that damned jar, which made me sneeze for several minutes.

"You didn't read the label on that jar, did you?" He continues vaguely, so much so that nervous and without patience, I force him to look at me before answering him.

"Of course I didn't have time to look at it Az, go straight to the point." I say impatiently. His cheeks turn red, and he stammers something under his breath that I can't understand at first, so I ask him to repeat it. He raises his eyes and fixes his in mine, before repeating what he had tried to say before.

"It was sex pollen, the one that spilled on you." He says finally, and I feel the blood freeze in my veins, still in shock from the revelation he threw at me. "And according to Suriel, the only way to keep you from dying right now is to...well you know, go along with what your instincts are asking you to do."

"Thank you for explaining in such a nice way that I have to masturbate Az, really very nice." I say almost angry at him, even though I know I'm not really. I'm partly angry at myself for putting myself in that situation, but I can't do anything about it now, and now I'm also in danger of dying.

"Hey, I'm trying my best." He replies, scratching the back of his neck with his right hand, looking embarrassed.

"I know, I know Az, it's just-" I pause for a moment, trying to find a way to say it. I take a big breath and keep talking. "I've already tried touching myself, alone, down there, but it didn't do much good." I confess in a low voice, hoping he won't hear it, but unfortunately Shadowsinger's hearing is too acute to miss my confession. He freezes for a moment as if he is about to reason out what to do, then speaks again.

"I know." Azriel says in a guilty tone.

"What do you mean you know?" I ask shocked as I look at him, not understanding what he was referring to.

"Well the Suriel may or may not have told me that you would not be healed this way. "He continues as he watches the fire casting beams of light on the walls of the cave we are in. I stop again, and begin to reflect on all that I knew about these powders as I feel the pain getting worse and worse. By now I can feel my panties completely wet, as every single contact with what's around me unleashes a series of shivers that reaches to my core.

"I thought that was enough...well you get it. In all the books dealing with pollen with potential danger they say that's enough, be satisfied." I try to explain, as I draw a groan caused by my shifting which resulted in clenching my thighs together.

"I thought so too, but he said this doesn't count if-" He freezes as if he cannot find the words. I, growing more and more impatient, ask him aloud to continue.

"Az just doesn't seem like the time to be shy." I urge him to speak.

"He said it's not enough when you're in close proximity to your mate." He blurts out, standing up sharply. I squint my eyes not believing what my ears have just heard, but I immediately understand that feeling that has long been building in my heart toward my mate. Well I would say more than friend. I feel something forming in my chest that takes shape through a golden thread extending from my sternum to that of Azriel, who is currently turned his back to me as he looks out of the cave as if in the same there is the answer to this problem. Immediately I feel that silly happiness I felt at having found my mate, and that he was the man I actually loved all my life already disintegrating under the idea that he didn't want all that.

"You don't have to." I whisper, in the grip of ever-worsening cramps, but right now they seem like nothing more than mild pain compared to what my heart was feeling.

"You don't understand, if we don't do this, you will die and I won't let you die." He counters by turning around and dropping to his knees at my height looking me straight in the eye.

"I don't want your pity." I reply harshly as I try to get out of his sight, unable to do much given my condition, because I don't want him to see my suffering and the pain his rejection has triggered in me.

"No, I don't want my mate, the woman I've loved all my life to die and I'm pissed off at Mother because I didn't want it to happen like this between us the first time. I wanted to do everything right, take you to dinner, confess under the stars and then make love to you in my bed between the sheets I had specially chosen your favorite color, not on the floor in a stupid cave after risking our lives! When I knew you were my mate I wanted nothing more than to thank Mother, fate or whoever, but now I hate them because they had to pass the anger they vent on me to you, and I don't want to see you suffer because of me." He blurts out as he begins to walk around the cave again, then finishes his speech by looking at me. A strange light sparkles in his eyes, they look like the eyes of someone who loves to the point of being sick, to the point of suffering, and that love right now is directed at me. I can't believe his words, but that connection makes me feel that everything he just said is the truth, and immediately the happiness I lost a few moments ago returns, along with hope.

"We can still do it." I confess in a whisper and he immediately turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful eyes. "We can do it once we get home. We'll tell Rhys they can go screw him and his missions, and we'll take some time to figure this out and get used to it, and we can do everything you just said, because believe me I want to do all that with you."

"But?" He asks as he approaches.

"But now all I need is you fucking me as hard as you can in this shitty place so that I can stop dying and talk to you without having to moan every time." I say, as I grab his shirt with one hand, since he was now close enough to me, and kiss him with all the passion in my body.

I feel like I can finally breathe again as my lips on his, and I can already feel the pollen fade as the urge to feel Azriel inside me increases without measure.

"As my lady wishes." Whispers the Illiryan on my lips as we pull away from that breathless kiss. I immediately feel his lips graze my neck, to start biting and sucking on it as if his life depended on it. Every single movement of his lips and tongue made me touch the sky with one finger as I moaned his name as if I were a priestess intent on making a prayer and he the deity I believe in.

His lips then move from my neck to my breasts, where he begins to suck on my nipples like a hungry child. I bring my hands into his hair and pull them every time his tongue touches one of my sensitive spots.

"Baby doll, if you pull my hair one more time, I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from fucking you so hard I'll leave your silhouette on the floor of this place." He says pulling away for a moment to kiss my lips again.

My hands move down, and I begin to open his pants, while he begins to open mine.

"All words, I want to see some action." I reply, trying not to give away how much his words had affected me. He smirks, realizing that he actually made a mark with what he said, just brushing against my panties and feeling how wet they are.

"You will regret saying what you just said baby doll." Az replies, as with a quick gesture he enters of me. I didn't even notice that he had moved both my and his panties, but right now I don't care.

Feeling his cock inside me is an otherworldly experience. I can feel the walls of my pussy tighten around his sizable member as he tries to stay as still as possible to get me used to his size.

"Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel like you can't take it anymore, okay?" He asks softly, as he kisses my sweaty forehead. I feel the cramps from the sex pollen return, and I groan before I answer him.

"Az, I can't take it anymore, either you move or I swear I'm going to flip you over and start doing what I need to do on my own." I say, trying to move my hips slightly and create some friction, but he stops me, resting his hips on mine and giving that silly little smile that makes him so sexy.

"Oh, I can't wait to see you ride my cock, but I'd say leave that experience for another time. Tonight is just for you, and for your pleasure." He comments and then begins to move.

Immediately I feel every single part of the universe fall into place as he gradually increases his speed. My body seems to be persecuted everywhere with shivers of pleasure as his lips rest lightly on my breasts again. Between his mouth, his cock, and the sex pollen in my body my orgasm seems to come with a speed I never expected.

"Please Az, don't stop." I say groaning, feeling the pleasure grow more and more every second.

"Oh baby I could never deprive myself of the feeling of my cock against your cervix. You're going to come, aren't you?" She whispers back as I try to nod. "Then we'll come together love."

"Yes, please Az fill me." I continue, and I feel her muscles tense even more under my touch.

"Honey don't challenge me, you know I could fuck you so hard you wouldn't walk tomorrow even if you prayed to Mother." He counters by increasing his speed.

"It would certainly be worth it." I answer as I now feel I am on the edge of oblivion, just one thrust would be enough to sink into pleasure. I hold my breath for a moment as I feel him move for the last time before my body begins to move in convulsions of pleasure, and my vision becomes totally blurred.

I feel him releasing all his semen inside me shortly after coming, and I feel him lying on top of me, relaxing.

We stay like that for a few minutes before he starts laughing. I look at him not understanding why he is laughing until he explains himself.

"God, I guess in the end I will have Rhys to thank for this mission." Whispers Az.

"Actually it wasn't that bad." I comment, laughing in turn.

"Let's say it had its upsides." He replies with a wink. "But don't think it's over here, wait until you get home, and when I'm done with you the only thing you'll remember is my name."

Yes I would say we definitely have Rhys to thank.

TAGLIST

@horneybeach1 @peachyxrosie @whoreforblackhill @forsiriussake @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @ohemgeewhat @123345566 @kidsaproblem @lust4lucille @lisamanban123 @alina02 @shodowbane09 @supernatural-lvr

[sovasleepy]

beauty sleep

[ gekko x reader ] — when you fall asleep wearing makeup, gekko does his best to clean your face without waking you ; part 2

warnings: the reader is gender neutral, although the reader is described to be wearing makeup so take that as you will. also a brief mention of being drunk/alcohol but its not gekko or the reader.

notes: requested by anon! i hope you enjoy :)

the usual banter between phoenix and jett played out in front of you. they were high off of a victory, much like yourself and several other agents that had joined together for a victory feast at a local takeout place. what was supposed to be a quick run for food turned into a posse of idiots parading around downtown, much to the credit of an already half-drunken skye.

phoenix quickly followed her, his energy coaxing the fire that was already brewing in the hearts of the agents. a particularly important mission had gone incredibly well that day and the entire team was still riding high.

jett snorted as she shoved phoenix, laughing at whatever cheesy joke he’d laid on her.

“love the energy, but i’m far too tired to match it.” gekko spoke, leaning his head slightly towards you. his voice was much softer and quieter than their’s. it was a sharp contrast to the loud, chirpy voices of those around you.

“couldn’t agree more.” you grumbled.

as much as you loved your friends, you were happy to have them split off into their own directions once you were back at base. gekko was the only one to follow.

he padded toward your door and gently held it open for you. he watched you walk in, but hesitated another moment before speaking.

“could i come in? i know we’re both tired, i just don’t think i’m ready to sleep yet, yknow?”

you nodded and smiled. gekko always had a weird way of matching your emotional state, purposefully or not. absently kicking away a t-shirt that had ended up on your floor, you apologized for the state that your room was in and invited him in.

you proceeded to hit the mattress, and you were out like a light.

“thank you,” he spoke, words falling on deaf ears. his eyes scanned your room. he took in the decorations, noting how such small things were marked by traces of your hobbies or personality. “i just need to be around ‘calm’ for a while before i knock out, is all.”

he sat on the edge of your bed. he didn’t notice the fact that you were asleep. he continued to mutter to himself for another moment, before finally turning to see your reaction.

“well,” he spoke one last time. “that would explain the silence.”

still, he didn’t leave. he felt creepy. as though he was spying on you in some weird way. but you had invited him in, right? so there wasn’t something morally off about it, he assured himself.

he would like to deny the warmth that spread in his chest as he observed you, but that would make him a liar. while the thoughts were always in the back of his mind, he never truly got the chance to fully take you in. every curve and every feature of your face, the slight pinch in your brows as you slept, and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest. it took him a while to realize the other thing he was seeing.

“isn’t falling asleep with makeup on bad for your skin? or your pillows or something.” he whispered softly to himself.

as he did, he slowly got up from where he sat on edge of your bed. a quick glance around your room offered him nothing, but he didn’t want to turn on your light and wake you. you looked so peaceful, after all.

quietly, gekko walked toward your bathroom. after trying for a miserable ten minutes to figure out which washcloth in your bathroom was the softest, he finally settled on one. he stepped towards your sink to dampen it, where his eyes caught a sleeve with the words “makeup removing wipes” printed on the side.

yeah, that seemed like a better idea than his.

makeup wipes in tow, he finally returned to your sleeping form. slowly, as if it would make a difference, he turned on your lamp. he froze as if to make sure you were still asleep.

he pulled one wipe from the package, gently rubbing at your skin. after a second, he pulled back and checked the wipe. he was doing this correctly… wasn’t he?

how often were you supposed to change wipes? or was it just one for the whole face? how hard was too hard to rub? how expensive were these wipes, anyway? how does he know when your face is clean? would the liquid that dampened the wipe hurt if it got in your eyes?

oh well. he could try his best, at least.

he discarded the dirty wipe in the trashcan near your bed and retrieved a new one. he continued his process of gently rubbing your face, taking extra care around your eyes and making sure he wasn’t pressing down so hard as to irritate your skin.

when he was sure he was done, he closed the container and returned it safely to the bathroom counter.

he came back when he was done. gently setting his weight on the bed, he smoothed down your hair with one hand and smiled at your sleeping form.

“you don’t really need your beauty sleep, but i guess i can let you have your sleep-sleep.” gekko commented after a beat.

he sat up gently as to not disturb you. he clicked off your lamp and shut your door softly behind himself as he left you to rest.

[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire — human blood bank (s2)

part three (not proofread)

i will not be writing explicit content/material for ni-ki but there will be mature themes around him. he’s a vampire for sake. 🤍

smut/explicit content will be coming soon regarding other members for you dirty minded whöres 🫶🏽

in case you missed it, i will not be posting any thing until beginning of november. i doubt i will post sooner but just keep an eye out. writing isn’t interfering with my day to day life, im genuinely just unmotivated, lost enthusiasm when it comes to posting.

and to 100% be real i have really bad social comparison/imposter syndrome right now.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

“you’re hiding something from me, sunoo!” you scolded one of the youngest, crossing your arms looking him in the eye.

his cheeks turned red, his voice going up an octave with a crack, “no i am not!”

“you’ve been quieter than usual, and looking at ni-ki with some questionable eyes lately.” you tilted your head.

sunoo sighed. “yes, but i really don’t even know what’s going on.” he whispered, looking around the hall. “i don’t want to say too much just in case one of the olders are meddling. i don’t want ni-ki to get into trouble for something i’m not even sure about.”

“what do you mean?”

sunoo hesitated on how much he should say. “just lately he’s been coming home late—,”

“that’s not weird?”

“—crawling through my window.” sunoo finished. you looked confused and suspicious yourself.

“why would he crawl through your window?” you questioned.

sunoo shrugged. “probably not to make too much noise coming through the front or back door. he knows i keep it open for a fresh breeze.”

“your room is on the second floor? what, does he have flying abilities now?”

sunoo laughed. “oh please, he climbs up the tree near my window.”

“oh, well that would make more sense.” you nodded. you tapped your chin then got the best idea. “we should follow him!”

sunoo shook his head. “that could be worse. we don’t know what he’s getting into. we could get hurt if we aren’t careful.”

“well i could for sure get hurt, but with your sensitivity we for sure can get the vibe of what’s going on around us!”

sunoo shook his head once again with a sigh. “i still don’t think it’s a good idea. at least not right away, not right now.”

you groaned. “thanks for ruining my dreams of becoming a spy for once.” you pouted

sunoo chuckled. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“i could say the same for you blondie.”

“what y’all talking about?” ni-ki’s voice startled both you and sunoo.

“oh nothing.” you waved. you were a terrible liar. sunoo’s lip curled up at how terrible you were.

“doesn’t seem like nothing.” ni-ki smirked.

sunoo could feel power and control radiating off of ni-ki. for the past few days it’s like it has gotten stronger from him.

“mhm ni-ki, when was the last time you fed?” sunoo asked randomly.

ni-ki looked at sunoo with a warned expression and smile. “why?”

“it has been a while since you fed from me. like a month? two?” you asked. “i thought newbies had to feed more often?”

“when’s the last time sunoo fed?” he shot back.

both of you were taken aback. “oh, um,” you now looked at sunoo with a wondering expression.

“about the same.” sunoo answered with a defeated sigh.

ni-ki didn’t have to say anything as his face said it all. “not all newbies are the same, i thought jay and sunghoon explained it to you.” ni-ki tapped your nose causing you to scrunch it.

“they did. sometimes i just don’t listen.” you admitted.

“which is very bad on your end, love.” jay added, coming up behind the three of you. jay kissed the back of your head.

you turned around with a smile. “i can’t help that you talk too much sometimes.” you chuckled. “you know my brain can’t focus for too long!”

“are they sucking the intelligence out of you as well?” ni-ki taunted.

“don’t make me slap you.” you threatened, pointing a finger at him.

ni-ki just laughed. “i’ll be going out tonight.”

“again?” jay and sunoo asked at the same time.

“ooo, with eunchae?” you teased.

“no, with some guys i met recently.” ni-ki leaned against the wall behind him.

“wait really?” you asked. “you made friends outside of eunchae?”

ni-ki rolled his eyes, “yes sweetheart.”

“who are they?” jay asked. “do we happen to know them?”

“nope. and they just call themselves the boyz or whatever.”

“names?”

“what are you? my dad?” ni-ki scoffed with an annoyed undertone.

“no, but i vowed to look after you.” jay’s voice deepened, bringing on his authoritative tone. “so i will ask you again. what. are. their. names?”

“sunwoo and eric are the two i’m closest to and gotten to know the most.”

“you should invite them over.”

“of course. let me make sure they can ask their mommies.”

“knock off the attitude.” jay warned.

you and sunoo gasped. it’s been a while since you all noticed this behavior. basically, since the first time he was turned.

sunoo knew the last time he acted this way was when he had human blood. not from you.

it seemed ni-ki noticed sunoo’s change of demeanor. he knew sunoo wasn’t dumb. sunoo however stayed zipped lip when ni-ki gave him a look of warning, something menancing almost.

“be nice! all of you!” you scolded. “i swear sometimes i hate living with a bunch of men!” you huffed and stormed away from the three.

“oh sweetheart, i’m always nice.” ni-ki smiled.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you had fallen asleep in the comfortable beanbag—like—couch in the library, jay and sunghoon had once again prepared for you in the new house.

your safe haven.

laying on your stomach, book open next to you, your eyes tightly shut, with occasional moving from dreaming. mouth slightly opened due to drool and some snores.

your dream suddenly felt dark. like, a dark storm cloud. felt as if someone was standing over you. behind your close eyelids, in your dreams, it felt as if a dark shadow was looming over you.

red eyes, sinister grin, fingers lightly tracing over your back. your body start to shake, convulse almost.

you screamed. you screamed yourself awake, immediately sitting on your knees. your body flushed hot. your skin felt as if it was on fire.

your breath was uneven, you had to calm yourself down by deep breathing. hand on your chest.

“baby!” sunghoon came running into the library where he heard your screams. “are you okay?” he rushed to your side looking for any signs of hurt.

“just—just a bad dream.” you said through panic breaths. your head hung down, as you leaned your forehead against sunghoon’s shoulder as he held you tight. you felt as if your energy was flushed and drained from your body.

“let’s get you to bed.” sunghoon soothed and picked you up, no problem.

from the doorway of the library, ni-ki watched the older take care of you. his face flat of any expression.

“what happened?” jake came running up next to the youngest. “i heard a scream from our girl.”

“she’s fine.” ni-ki answered flatly. “just a bad dream.” he whispered, watching sunghoon carry you out your library.

“is she okay?” jake asked sunghoon, ignoring the youngest.

sunghoon nodded, holding you tightly against him. “just a really bad dream.” sunghoon and jake observed your tear streaked face. “she’ll sleep with me tonight. when jay, heeseung, and sunoo come back from the bank, let them know.” he ordered to the two.

jake nodded, ni-ki blankly staring.

“will do, sunghoon.” jake nodded politely.

sunghoon continued his walk to his room with you in his arms, jungwon coming up the stairs soon after.

“did you have to push me so hard down the stairs?” jungwon asked jake, rubbing the back of his head. “im a vampire, not invincible, dumbass.”

jake chuckled, “sorry, i heard her scream so loudly and fearful, i got scared myself.”

jungwon stretched his limbs. “well, is she okay?”

“she’s fine you two.” ni-ki said shaking his head. “worrying for nothing.”

ni-ki walked off annoyed to his room.

“what’s up his ass?” jungwon asked, jake shrugged.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay, heeseung, and sunoo arrived back at the house late, around 11 pm after stopping by the bank.

“we need to talk.”

a voice startled the three men, almost causing them to drop some of the blood supply.

“i wish people would stop startling me today!” sunoo complained.

“aren’t yall vampires? how did you not hear me?”

jay narrowed his eyes to sakura. “what are you doing here?”

sakura looked over their shoulder. “you literally have a human blood bank with fresh blood. why steal from an actual blood bank?”

“we can’t always feed on her. she’ll get too weak with all seven of us.” heeseung explained.

sakura nodded her head in understanding. the blood the boys had wasn’t the best, but it would hold them over when there are days you need a break.

“again, what are you doing here?” jay crossed his arms.

sakura rolled her eyes. “what’s got your panties in a twist?”

sunoo and heeseung failed at holding in their laughter. when jay looked at the two, they quickly straightened up, looking around.

“i’m worried about eunchae. something isn’t right with her lately.”

“and what, since she hangs around ni-ki the most you think he has something to do with it?” jay snapped.

“jeez, would you calm down and stop jumping to conclusions, jay?” sakura now crossed her arms, tired of jays standoffish behavior. “i’m only asking, to see if ni-ki has voiced his concern about her too.”

“no, he hasn’t said anything.” heeseung answered politely, then looked to sunoo. “you’ve been closest to him lately, has he voiced anything to you?”

sunoo shook his head. “no. what’s going on with eunchae?”

sakura sighed, “it’s just, she’s been coming home really late, lately. i’m not mad about that. but in the morning she always has the worst headache like a hangover, and never remembers the night before, other than being with ni-ki.” she explained. sakura hesitated, then added, “i’m worried for our safety. weird things have been happening to the girls and the house lately. just random things missing.”

“are you still drinking that tea of yours?” jay asked.

sakura nodded. “of course.”

“then you all should have nothing to be worried about. that tea literally blocks any coercion from any supernatural entity.”

sakura nodded. “thanks jay.”

“if you need us though, we’re here.” sunoo smiled gently.

“thanks sunoo.” sakura smiled to the boy. “at least one of you all have manners.”

sakura walked off, and the boys carried the bags into the house.

“should we be worried?” sunoo asked.

jay shook his head. “no, we have nothing to be worried about.”

upon entering the house, jungwon immediately came to help put away the bags, and jake explained that you were asleep with sunghoon due to a nightmare.

in the distance, ni-ki had watched the exchange between his own and eunchae’s from the shadows, listening in carefully.

he turned his head to the boy next to him. “what is sunwoo up to?”

eric shrugged. “i usually don’t ask him questions.”

─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩 ─── ─── ᯓᡣ𐭩

note from author

≽^•⩊•^≼

comments, reblogs, and likes welcomed! i love feedback and ideas 🤍

do not repost or translate anywhere else / as your own ©

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Subprime gadgets

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me THIS SUNDAY in ANAHEIM at WONDERCON: YA Fantasy, Room 207, 10 a.m.; Signing, 11 a.m.; Teaching Writing, 2 p.m., Room 213CD.

The promise of feudal security: "Surrender control over your digital life so that we, the wise, giant corporation, can ensure that you aren't tricked into catastrophic blunders that expose you to harm":

https://locusmag.com/2021/01/cory-doctorow-neofeudalism-and-the-digital-manor/

The tech giant is a feudal warlord whose platform is a fortress; move into the fortress and the warlord will defend you against the bandits roaming the lawless land beyond its walls.

That's the promise, here's the failure: What happens when the warlord decides to attack you? If a tech giant decides to do something that harms you, the fortress becomes a prison and the thick walls keep you in.

Apple does this all the time: "click this box and we will use our control over our platform to stop Facebook from spying on you" (Ios as fortress). "No matter what box you click, we will spy on you and because we control which apps you can install, we can stop you from blocking our spying" (Ios as prison):

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

But it's not just Apple – any corporation that arrogates to itself the right to override your own choices about your technology will eventually yield to temptation, using that veto to help itself at your expense:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

Once the corporation puts the gun on the mantelpiece in Act One, they're begging their KPI-obsessed managers to take it down and shoot you in the head with it in anticipation of of their annual Act Three performance review:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/08/playstationed/#tyler-james-hill

One particularly pernicious form of control is "trusted computing" and its handmaiden, "remote attestation." Broadly, this is when a device is designed to gather information about how it is configured and to send verifiable testaments about that configuration to third parties, even if you want to lie to those people:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/08/your-computer-should-say-what-you-tell-it-say-1

New HP printers are designed to continuously monitor how you use them – and data-mine the documents you print for marketing data. You have to hand over a credit-card in order to use them, and HP reserves the right to fine you if your printer is unreachable, which would frustrate their ability to spy on you and charge you rent:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2024/02/hp-wants-you-to-pay-up-to-36-month-to-rent-a-printer-that-it-monitors/

Under normal circumstances, this technological attack would prompt a defense, like an aftermarket mod that prevents your printer's computer from monitoring you. This is "adversarial interoperability," a once-common technological move:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

An adversarial interoperator seeking to protect HP printer users from HP could gin up fake telemetry to send to HP, so they wouldn't be able to tell that you'd seized the means of computation, triggering fines charged to your credit card.

Enter remote attestation: if HP can create a sealed "trusted platform module" or a (less reliable) "secure enclave" that gathers and cryptographically signs information about which software your printer is running, HP can detect when you have modified it. They can force your printer to rat you out – to spill your secrets to your enemy.

Remote attestation is already a reliable feature of mobile platforms, allowing agencies and corporations whose services you use to make sure that you're perfectly defenseless – not blocking ads or tracking, or doing anything else that shifts power from them to you – before they agree to communicate with your device.

What's more, these "trusted computing" systems aren't just technological impediments to your digital wellbeing – they also carry the force of law. Under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, these snitch-chips are "an effective means of access control" which means that anyone who helps you bypass them faces a $500,000 fine and a five-year prison sentence for a first offense.

Feudal security builds fortresses out of trusted computing and remote attestation and promises to use them to defend you from marauders. Remote attestation lets them determine whether your device has been compromised by someone seeking to harm you – it gives them a reliable testament about your device's configuration even if your device has been poisoned by bandits:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/05/trusting-trust/#thompsons-devil

The fact that you can't override your computer's remote attestations means that you can't be tricked into doing so. That's a part of your computer that belongs to the manufacturer, not you, and it only takes orders from its owner. So long as the benevolent dictator remains benevolent, this is a protective against your own lapses, follies and missteps. But if the corporate warlord turns bandit, this makes you powerless to stop them from devouring you whole.

With that out of the way, let's talk about debt.

Debt is a normal feature of any economy, but today's debt plays a different role from the normal debt that characterized life before wages stagnated and inequality skyrocketed. 40 years ago, neoliberalism – with its assaults on unions and regulations – kicked off a multigenerational process of taking wealth away from working people to make the rich richer.

Have you ever watched a genius pickpocket like Apollo Robbins work? When Robins lifts your wristwatch, he curls his fingers around your wrist, expertly adding pressure to simulate the effect of a watchband, even as he takes away your watch. Then, he gradually releases his grip, so slowly that you don't even notice:

https://www.reddit.com/r/nextfuckinglevel/comments/ppqjya/apollo_robbins_a_master_pickpocket_effortlessly/

For the wealthy to successfully impoverish the rest of us, they had to provide something that made us feel like we were still doing OK, even as they stole our wages, our savings, and our futures. So, even as they shipped our jobs overseas in search of weak environmental laws and weaker labor protection, they shared some of the savings with us, letting us buy more with less. But if your wages keep stagnating, it doesn't matter how cheap a big-screen TV gets, because you're tapped out.

So in tandem with cheap goods from overseas sweatshops, we got easy credit: access to debt. As wages fell, debt rose up to fill the gap. For a while, it's felt OK. Your wages might be falling off, the cost of health care and university might be skyrocketing, but everything was getting cheaper, it was so easy to borrow, and your principal asset – your family home – was going up in value, too.

This period was a "bezzle," John Kenneth Galbraith's name for "The magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it." It's the moment after Apollo Robbins has your watch but before you notice it's gone. In that moment, both you and Robbins feel like you have a watch – the world's supply of watch-derived happiness actually goes up for a moment.

There's a natural limit to debt-fueled consumption: as Michael Hudson says, "debts that can't be paid, won't be paid." Once the debtor owes more than they can pay back – or even service – creditors become less willing to advance credit to them. Worse, they start to demand the right to liquidate the debtor's assets. That can trigger some pretty intense political instability, especially when the only substantial asset most debtors own is the roof over their heads:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/06/the-end-of-the-road-to-serfdom/

"Debts that can't be paid, won't be paid," but that doesn't stop creditors from trying to get blood from our stones. As more of us became bankrupt, the bankruptcy system was gutted, turned into a punitive measure designed to terrorize people into continuing to pay down their debts long past the point where they can reasonably do so:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/bankruptcy-protects-fake-people-brutalizes-real-ones/

Enter "subprime" – loans advanced to people who stand no meaningful chance of every paying them back. We all remember the subprime housing bubble, in which complex and deceptive mortgages were extended to borrowers on the promise that they could either flip or remortgage their house before the subprime mortgages detonated when their "teaser rates" expired and the price of staying in your home doubled or tripled.

Subprime housing loans were extended on the belief that people would meekly render themselves homeless once the music stopped, forfeiting all the money they'd plowed into their homes because the contract said they had to. For a brief minute there, it looked like there would be a rebellion against mass foreclosure, but then Obama and Timothy Geithner decreed that millions of Americans would have to lose their homes to "foam the runways" for the banks:

https://wallstreetonparade.com/2012/08/how-treasury-secretary-geithner-foamed-the-runways-with-childrens-shattered-lives/

That's one way to run a subprime shop: offer predatory loans to people who can't afford them and then confiscate their assets when they – inevitably – fail to pay their debts off.

But there's another form of subprime, familiar to loan sharks through the ages: lend money at punitive interest rates, such that the borrower can never repay the debt, and then terrorize the borrower into making payments for as long as possible. Do this right and the borrower will pay you several times the value of the loan, and still owe you a bundle. If the borrower ever earns anything, you'll have a claim on it. Think of Americans who borrowed $79,000 to go to university, paid back $190,000 and still owe $236,000:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/04/kawaski-trawick/#strike-debt

This kind of loan-sharking is profitable, but labor-intensive. It requires that the debtor make payments they fundamentally can't afford. The usurer needs to get their straw right down into the very bottom of the borrower's milkshake and suck up every drop. You need to convince the debtor to sell their wedding ring, then dip into their kid's college fund, then steal their father's coin collection, and, then break into cars to steal the stereos. It takes a lot of person-to-person work to keep your sucker sufficiently motivated to do all that.

This is where digital meets subprime. There's $1T worth of subprime car-loans in America. These are pure predation: the lender sells a beater to a mark, offering a low down-payment loan with a low initial interest rate. The borrower makes payments at that rate for a couple of months, but then the rate blows up to more than they can afford.

Trusted computing makes this marginal racket into a serious industry. First, there's the ability of the car to narc you out to the repo man by reporting on its location. Tesla does one better: if you get behind in your payments, your Tesla immobilizes itself and phones home, waits for the repo man to come to the parking lot, then it backs itself out of the spot while honking its horn and flashing its lights:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

That immobilization trick shows how a canny subprime car-lender can combine the two kinds of subprime: they can secure the loan against an asset (the car), but also coerce borrowers into prioritizing repayment over other necessities of life. After your car immobilizes itself, you just might decide to call the dealership and put down your credit card, even if that means not being able to afford groceries or child support or rent.

One thing we can say about digital tools: they're flexible. Any sadistic motivational technique a lender can dream up, a computerized device can execute. The subprime car market relies on a spectrum of coercive tactics: cars that immobilize themselves, sure, but how about cars that turn on their speakers to max and blare a continuous recording telling you that you're a deadbeat and demanding payment?

https://archive.nytimes.com/dealbook.nytimes.com/2014/09/24/miss-a-payment-good-luck-moving-that-car/

The more a subprime lender can rely on a gadget to torment you on their behalf, the more loans they can issue. Here, at last, is a form of automation-driven mass unemployment: normally, an economy that has been fully captured by wealthy oligarchs needs squadrons of cruel arm-breakers to convince the plebs to prioritize debt service over survival. The infinitely flexible, tireless digital arm-breakers enabled by trusted computing have deprived all of those skilled torturers of their rightful employment:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

The world leader in trusted computing isn't cars, though – it's phones. Long before anyone figured out how to make a car take orders from its manufacturer over the objections of its driver, Apple and Google were inventing "curating computing" whose app stores determined which software you could run and how you could run it.

Back in 2021, Indian subprime lenders hit on the strategy of securing their loans by loading borrowers' phones up with digital arm-breaking software:

https://restofworld.org/2021/loans-that-hijack-your-phone-are-coming-to-india/

The software would gather statistics on your app usage. When you missed a payment, the phone would block you from accessing your most frequently used app. If that didn't motivate you to pay, you'd lose your second-most favorite app, then your third, fourth, etc.

This kind of digital arm-breaking is only possible if your phone is designed to prioritize remote instructions – from the manufacturer and its app makers – over your own. It also only works if the digital arm-breaking company can confirm that you haven't jailbroken your phone, which might allow you to send fake data back saying that your apps have been disabled, while you continue to use those apps. In other words, this kind of digital sadism only works if you've got trusted computing and remote attestation.

Enter "Device Lock Controller," an app that comes pre-installed on some Google Pixel phones. To quote from the app's description: "Device Lock Controller enables device management for credit providers. Your provider can remotely restrict access to your device if you don't make payments":

https://lemmy.world/post/13359866

Google's pitch to Android users is that their "walled garden" is a fortress that keeps people who want to do bad things to you from reaching you. But they're pre-installing software that turns the fortress into a prison that you can't escape if they decide to let someone come after you.

There's a certain kind of economist who looks at these forms of automated, fine-grained punishments and sees nothing but a tool for producing an "efficient market" in debt. For them, the ability to automate arm-breaking results in loans being offered to good, hardworking people who would otherwise be deprived of credit, because lenders will judge that these borrowers can be "incentivized" into continuing payments even to the point of total destitution.

This is classic efficient market hypothesis brain worms, the kind of cognitive dead-end that you arrive at when you conceive of people in purely economic terms, without considering the power relationships between them. It's a dead end you navigate to if you only think about things as they are today – vast numbers of indebted people who command fewer assets and lower wages than at any time since WWII – and treat this as a "natural" state: "how can these poors expect to be offered more debt unless they agree to have their all-important pocket computers booby-trapped?"

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/29/boobytrap/#device-lock-controller

Image: Oatsy (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/oatsy40/21647688003

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

and for dessert?

pairing: javi x reader

cw's/tags: smut, oral sex, spanish? (i don't speak spanish), unrealistic scenarios, steve voiceover dialogue at the beginning to explain the strange plot

summary: reader is a shy hotel housekeeper of sorts (probably a CIA spy), and brings javi his room service with a special treat

a/n: 'there's a reason magical fake-ism was born in liz's mind..."

this is for @undercoverpena's birthday bash! my color for the color palette was ganache brown, and somehow, ganache is what got us here.

wc: 2k

[Steve Voiceover]: And if I told you that the CIA gave us an all expenses paid vacation at a 5 star hotel with women dressed like French maids providing around the clock service, including "special favors", would you believe me? No? Good. Because that didn't happen. Even if it did, they'd be expecting something in return -- to talk about one thing or to shut up about another. Peña and I aren't liars, but if we were on trial, and the CIA had any stake, this is how they could've won us over. At least, this is Javi's version of the story. 

Sitting in a California king size bed, wearing nothing but a robe embroidered with hotel's logo, Javi sifts through his own guilt to find some self-pity that'll allow him to enjoy this period of respite amidst the general chaos that comes with his career. He and Murphy are given separate rooms -- must be a real special case, considering how much the DEA does to cut corners, thereby cutting costs, and god only knows how much this room would cost him for a week. Escobar levels of cash. 

He gets room service, fresh towels, and a cute girl who delivers them daily. When the CIA wants to influence your testimony, they've got to butter you up first. Actually, they don't. They could torture Javi, threaten his family, even disappear him. Maybe there's poison in his breakfast -- which he eats in bed while watching pay-per-view movies.

The steak you bring him for dinner is good, but the uniform you wear is great. He knows he's being sedated, and he takes it willingly. His dick takes it eagerly -- that specific part of him is the opposite of sedated. 

For the first time in his life, Javi gets tired of jerking off.

"Goddamnit. Really?"

He must be going stir-crazy, talking to his dick like that.

It'd be more convenient for him to stay naked, but he keeps his himself covered out of respect for you. He figures you probably don't get paid enough to wait on nude men, though he doubts it'd be the first time you'd walked into a hotel room to find a man in his birthday suit. Men are gross. Javi can be nasty, but he understands that timing is key. Keep it classy until she asks for it not to be.

Javi's not stupid enough to think the CIA can't hear his phone calls. He doesn't know why they even leave the phone in the room. Maybe for the typical American illusion of freedom or maybe they're just too lazy to come and unplug it.

He could call the concierge, he might even be able to call you. But for some fucking reason, he's on the phone with Steve, who's right down the hall. 

Just to fuck with him, Javi asks, "What are you wearing right now?"

"Uh, A T-shirt and boxers… why?"

"I was joking. Never had phone sex?" He figures the CIA doesn't pay whoever's listening to these calls enough, so he'll give them a little tease as a treat.

"'Course I have." Steve's not the stud that Javi is but his wife's on a different continent, so he'd believe it. "Are you trying to have phone sex with me?"

"I'm not that desperate yet."

"Haven't gone through all the porn on TV yet?"

"Not yet. Still making my way through the stepmom shit. Not really my thing."

There's a lull before Steve suggests something so out of character that Javi would think he was joking in any other circumstance.

"Is your, uh, housekeeper… nice?"

"By nice you mean hot?"

"Yeah."

"Very."

"Wonder if we have the same one."

Javi describes your appearance in detail to Steve - he'd do great as an eye witness if he only had to remember gorgeous women. Steve's description of his housekeeper is more brief but enough to confirm that they are attended to by separate women.

"Guess attractiveness is part of the qualifications," Steve remarks.

"Well, better hope you still have a job after all this 'cause you're sure not getting one here."

"Fuck off. Just 'cause you fuck around doesn't mean you're the hot one in this partnership. In case you've forgotten, I'm the one with the beautiful wife."

"Yeah, and she's way outta your league. Still don't know how you pulled her."

Steve ignores Javi's comment, and continues to brag, "plus, Little Miss Housekeeper said I'm very attractive."

"Oh yeah? How much did you pay her?"

"Nada. Did yours call you 'hermoso'? Did she offer you any extra favors?"

"Extra favors?"

Javi can hear Steve's smug grin on the other end. "She told me 'we do anything to ensure our guests have a pleasurable experience'."

"You think that's real or she was just coming onto you?"

"Dunno. You should try asking your girl- speak of the motherfuckin' devil." And Steve hangs up the phone.

In less than a minute, there's a knock on Javi's door.

"Agent Peña?" He hears your sweet voice say from outside the door, and while the fantasies fly through his head, he forgets a crucial mistake he's made which is not bothering to put on clothes after he'd taken a shower, leaving him in only in a towel when you open the door.

And he's rock-fucking-hard.

You walk in with room service. Fuck. He forgot he'd ordered dessert. Typical display, silver platter atop white tablecloth plus utensils and other expected accoutrements. You're focused on pushing the cart so at first you don't notice but when you do, you apologize profusely.

"Oh my god, Agent Peña. I am so sorry, sir." You turn away from him, fidgeting awkwardly as you stand facing the wall.

"No, it's my fault. I'm sorry. I forgot that I ordered dessert. I'll get my pants on so you don't have to see anything."

"Oh. I don't mind--I mean, that's not my concern. I just want to respect your privacy."

"My privacy? If I could walk around naked all the time I would."

"You would?" You take a glance over your shoulder and he's managed to put on his boxers, and is now reaching for a pair of jeans. "You don't mind people seeing you?"

"No," he says, stopping with one leg halfway in his pants, unsure of what you want.

"Well, you are an attractive man, so--I hope you don't mind me saying that."

"I don't. I just hope they pay you well to dish out compliments."

"The compliments are not required by my contract. I was just thinking out loud…" You trail off, shyly looking to the side.

"In that case, I hope you don't mind me saying that you're a very attractive woman."

"Thank you, sir."

God, it goes straight to his dick. There's not much he can do to hide it since he's given up on the jeans idea. (And, let's face it, those jeans leave nothing to the imagination). 

"So, I brought dessert," you transition. 

Usually, you're incredibly professional and prepared, like you've practiced every word in the mirror, but now, you look flustered. It's adorable when you struggle to find the words to describe the dessert. It's almost like you've forgotten what it is until you pull the lid off the tray to reveal it.

"Wow," he says, genuinely in awe of the decadence presented before him.

"It's a chocolate cake with chocolate ganache and strawberries on top… as you can see."

"It's probably poisoned, but I'll risk it anyway. This looks really fuckin' good."

You smile hesitantly and nod, periodically glancing towards the door like you're trying to figure out how to exit the conversation.

"Well, I'll leave you to it," you say, turning to leave the room.

But before your hand reaches the doorknob, Javi says, "Stay."

"Huh?"

"If you can -- If you want to."

"I can, yeah." You walk back towards him, slowly, stopping at the edge of the bed like you're unsure where to go from here.

"Need help getting up here?" he teases.

"No, I can do it," you say, though it does look taxing to climb up onto the tall mattress in those heels.

You sit so prim and proper like a little doll, perfectly posed, which makes Javi feel particularly ill-mannered as he's already devoured almost an entire slice of cake.

"Want some?" he asks, sucking icing off his finger just to see your reaction. And it's even more delicious than the cake itself.

"O-okay." You nod.

He grabs a bite of cake on his fork and brings it towards your mouth like you're newlyweds at your reception. You let him feed you, maintaining eye contact while eat and lick your lips clean. You're playing his game. You must be.

"So, your job here- is it mostly delivering food and towels or is there other stuff you do?"

"We do whatever the guests want… within reason."

"Give me an example."

You not-so-subtly glance at his boxer-clad cock, and then back at his face. "As long as it's legal, we can do whatever we want for the most part."

"And what do you want?"

When you look down, away from his eyes, getting all nervous again, he lifts your chin. "Dime lo que quieres," he says, much softer.

"I want you. I want to make you feel good."

You get closer to him, he thinks you're going for his lips but you're not, your hand brushes his bare stomach and slides down, but you stop at his waistband.

"May I?"

"Fuck yes."

For a shy girl, you sure know what you're doing. You get him riled up with playful licks around the tip, a flick of the tongue up the slit that makes him gasp, and you press sloppy kisses down his length, leaving lipstick marks all along his shaft.

It's not long before he feels his orgasm start to build, so he swiftly pulls you up, so that you're on your knees. You look almost dazed, especially so with your makeup all messy. He coaxes your hips up further until your core hovers over his face.

Javi has a one track mind when it comes to these kinds of things. Pussy makes him stupid. Earlier that day he fantasized about what color panties you might be wearing under your skirt. He had to force himself to look away when you bent down to grab something you'd dropped, he'd feel like a creep knowing he'd get off to a mishap like that. But he imagined you in pink, red, white, lace, satin, and everything in between.

He's surprised to find that you're not wearing any of those, you're not wearing anything at all.

He quirks an eyebrow up at you. "Brought me dessert, huh, hermosa?"

You nod. Yes, of course you did. Warm and glazed with your arousal.

"Quiero saborearte," he whispers, dragging you towards his eager mouth. 

You're perfectly pliant for him. His grip on your hips, your ass, your thighs is steady but gentle. He tries to take his time. A woman is a delicacy. He should savor you. He gets lost in the sweetness, buries his face between your thighs and allows his restrained dedication to become messy and reverent.

You call him by his first name for the first time. Javier. It's all he recognizes in your jumbled sentences.

He hums an affirmation. Mm-hmm. You're okay. Mm-hmm. I know. Mm-hmm. Please, give it to me. Let go.

Your climax hits so hard you lurch forward and grab the headboard while Javi guides you through it. With how loud you're being, he's certain Murphy will be calling him to congratulate him on his good work.

But before that, he realizes the mistake he's made -- a cardinal sin if making love is a religion (and the way Javi views it, it should be) -- he hasn't kissed you.

"Dame un beso," he says.

When you kiss him, he finds that your lips are just as sweet as the other pair between your thighs.

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

Hi, @bangpop91! Thanks for this! I'm pretty sure I did one of these a couple of months ago, but I can't find it so I'll do a new one!

Just Trying to Keep Up - BuckTommy | T | 4.8K In which Tommy slowly realizes that 'letting Evan set the pace' means committing to a life of full speed ahead. (And he's more than happy to chase after him.) My latest 9-1-1 fic - inspired by the deleted scene with Tommy and Henren. I think it's pretty darn cute. 😊 Colin Firth Thinks You're Hot | BuckTommy | G | 2.7K

Buck is late for a special date night with Tommy, but he still stops to help a stranger stuck on the side of the road. Luckily, that stranger is about to help HIM.

Still one of the most ridiculous things I've ever written. Also still makes me laugh.

you carried me with you | BuckTommy | T | 7.2K

There's always been one person Tommy can talk to.

My very first 9-1-1 fic. It came about because I really wanted some backstory for Tommy and I gave him a twin sister because I really wanted him to have someone in his corner. There's a sequel to this one now that's a work-in-progress and I have plans for a third part. Which is hilarious when you see the notes on this fic and I'm like, 'this is going to be my only 9-1-1 fic! I'm not going down this rabbit hole!' SUCH A LIAR!!! 😂

Live and Let Spy | BuckTommy | T | WIP

Over twenty years on the job and he was at the top of his game.

Agent Kinard was the one they called in when there was no one else to trust. When the stakes were high and you needed a job done.

Agent Kinard didn’t make mistakes, but Tommy…

Tommy fell in love.

Putting this one on here even though it's a WIP. It was inspired by the whole Spy!Tommy thing that was floating around a couple of months ago and it's another ridiculous little adventure that makes me laugh.

A Herrmann/Halstead Production

I know this is cheating, but I'm putting my OneChicago series on here because I'm really proud of it. If you've read my 9-1-1 fics and you enjoy procedurals in general, consider checking this one out! There's over 300K worth of fic for you to fall into. It's an AU so there's a few divergences from canon and an OC character that ties the three shows together. It has a lot of humour and angst and romance (Rhodestead!) and lots of friendship and family feels. I'm working away on the latest installment and have many more planned!

Thanks again for the ask!

[anaer]

the time travel fix it fuck it up fic (wip)

in which gojo ends up back in time and decides its time for a hostile takeover

stsg/sukugo, rating: probably don't share with your family

According to the blurry numbers on the clock screaming at his face, it was 4:33 in the fucking morning when Geto Suguru, renowned cult leader, was forcefully woken by a loud cacophony sounding the destruction of at least three walls of his temple. He had half a second to try and process – ‘What the fuck was that?’ – before an even louder, much more familiar, much more annoying sound echoed through the compound.

“Suguru!”

Uncalled for indignation: that was the first thing Geto registered. The second thing he registered was a foot buried in his gut, and his body crashing into his bedroom wall. Well. He was awake now. Just in time to see a fist coming straight for his face, and he barely ducked out of the way, rolling past Satoru looking like death and whatever snit he was suddenly in.

“What the fuck?!” he demanded. “Do you know what time it is?” Everyone, especially Satoru, knew how he felt about his sleep getting interrupted. He couldn’t be his best self with less than eight hours and twenty-four minutes of sleep per night.

“It’s September!” Satoru shot back at him. “Three months before December!”

And also two years since the last time Satoru had hung up on him very rudely in the middle of one of his earnest entreaties to get him to come around to the better side of killing most of the world. This was how he decided they were talking again?

“I’m glad you know how to read a goddamn calendar? What the hell is your problem?”

Satoru slugged him right in the jaw, hard enough to make Geto’s head ring. “I know you’re planning to murder my student.”

What?

God, his fucking face hurt now. This was not how he wanted to start his morning; he had so much important cult shit to deal with today, and now he was going to be in a mood. And he wasn’t planning to kill any of Satoru’s students yet, so what was this even about? Another blow caught him in the stomach, and he doubled over gasping, grabbing onto Satoru’s t-shirt.

“Stop…punching me!”

Satoru complied, but only because a hand clamped entirely too threateningly around his neck to haul him up instead. The grin on Satoru’s face was honestly psychotic. Geto hated how hot that was. He’d really shot himself in the foot that time he’d convinced Satoru that mass murder was bad. Hindsight and all that…they really could’ve had it all. It was amazing how stupid teenage hormones and morality had made him.

“I have had,” Satoru began slowly, his grip slowly tightening on Geto’s throat, “a really bad year. Unbelievably bad. That stupid brain, then that stupid box, and then…well, the fight was great, honestly. A little embarrassing to die on live TV, but worth it, I think. Sukuna was—ahhh, he was so much better than I expected, and now that’s all ruined, which—not the point. At first, I was happy, in the airport, to see you again – things get weird when you die – but then I woke up this morning, alive, and I saw it was September.”

“You’ve already established it’s September,” Geto croaked.

Satoru scoffed, pinning him with a glare that did not intimidate him as much as turned him on. Satoru looked so fuckable like this.

“I woke up,” Satoru repeated, “and on my way here, I realised: you! You’re the problem! You are the root of all my problems. Every single one of them! I would kill you, but that’s what started this entire mess to begin with!”

Geto had zero idea what he was talking about. Not that he actively spent sixty eight percent of his time spying on Satoru or anything (he was a known liar), but he knew for a fact that Satoru had spent most of the past year fucking around Japan eating anything he could get his hands on, toying with underpowered curses, pissing off the higher ups, and avidly not teaching his students anything useful. He’d even fucked Nanami a time or two, which was something Geto tried not to think about too much for the thin remnants of his own sanity. Still: it’d been a pretty good year for him, as far as Geto was concerned. He’d definitely not done anything half as annoyingly obnoxious as die, let alone on live TV. Whatever the fuck bullshit he was spewing from his mouth was complete nonsense, which could really only mean one thing: Gojo Satoru had finally, fully snapped.

Geto thought about all that, and then didn’t think through his answer at all: “As if you could kill me.”

[lunacornfan2k24]

Sneak peek to The Spy and The Liar 2: Zor’s Revenge chapter 2

Yesterday I realized I wanted to give everyone something to help distract from the terrible election results and focused on chapter 2 of tsatl 2.

Then I realized that I was almost 7k words in and no where close to being done which is why I gave people the option of this or a fic I knew I could get done in 2-3 hours which is also why this snippet is unedited.

If you wanted the other fic it’s still coming and I’ll probably post it on ao3 as soon as it’s written. It was a pretty close poll but two more people wanted this.

So without further ado…enjoy!

Pairings: Agent Phoenix/John Juniper

Word count: 1.6k

Rating: T

Warnings: Gilded cage, emotional abuse, obsession

You groaned as you slowly began to gain consciousness. Silk sheets slide along your arms as you stretched before trying to go back to sleep. If Mason needed you, he would call you, you were just too comfortable to leave the bed.

At the thought of Mason, a memory flashed behind your eyelids of the man, on his knees, a bruise on his forehead. You furrowed your brows and concentrated on the memory.

John, a gun pointed at his head as he struggled against two men.

The mimic mask, new and improved, looking as pristine as ever.

A Russian accent that fades away to reveal a sinister voice.

Zor.

Your eyes flew open as you sat up in bed, white silk sheets pooling on your thighs. You glanced frantically around the room, trying to determine exactly where you were.

The first thing you noticed was white. Almost everything was white. The walls, the bed sheets, the curtains. The only exceptions were the mahogany desk next to your right and the nightstand to your left. There was a small sitting area at the end of the bed with a white couch, a white coffee table and a television lined by two white bookcases.

The wall to your left was made entirely out of glass, framed by curtains and with a glass sliding door in the middle. It led to a small balcony. To your right were three closed doors.

You threw off the covers, finding white slippers placed next to your bed. They fit your feet perfectly.

The only bright color in sight was the red Zoraxis logo stitched into your scrubs above the left breast.

Just as you had at the hotel room in New York, you thoroughly searched the room for any listening devices. You didn’t try to be neat during your search, so the room was thoroughly trashed once you were done. There were no cameras and no listening devices, and, unless the Fabricator had created cameras and microphones undetectable to even a trained eye, your actions were completely private.

At least, until someone saw the state of the room.

You ran over to the glass door and through it open, not quite expecting it to be unlocked. Cautiously, you walked over to the railing and glanced down. Below you sat a pristine white beach bordered by a gorgeous blue sea that made the water around Los Angeles seem grey in comparison. The beach was too far below to be a viable way of leaving your room without anyone knowing.

Although, you thought, your mouth going dry, you’d survive falls from further distances, but never voluntarily.

That left the doors.

The three plain white doors on the other side of the room.

You slowly opened the door closest to you and relaxed when you realized that it was just a closet, albeit an almost empty walk-in closet. You quickly searched the area focusing on two things, listening devices and the outfit you had been wearing yesterday. As you searched through several identical white scrubs that matched your current outfit, you found no listening devices and no evidence of your premiere outfit.

You moved on to the next door and relaxed again when it turned out to be a large bathroom equipped with a shower as large as your entire bathroom back in the apartment.

That meant the last door was the way out of this room.

Your palms began to sweat when you thought about what could be waiting for you on the other side of that door, if you were even able to open it. Your pulse spiked the moment you touched the handle. You took a moment to calm yourself before you tried to turn the handle. Your heart rate ratcheted again as the knob turned and the door swung open easily.

You peaked out and the first thing you saw was that directly across from the room was a railing that wrapped around the entirety of the second floor, with stairs that led downstairs to the left. The next thing you noticed was that past the railing was a large open living room that seamlessly merged outside to become a porch where you could see the blue of the ocean all the way to the horizon.

The most important thing you noticed was that Dr. Zor was down there resting on one of the couches.

“Good morning.”

You flinched and tried to retreat behind the door before you stopped yourself. Zor knew you were awake, there was no point in trying to delay the inevitable.

Slowly and cautiously, you left the safety of the room and made your way over to the stairs, your eyes never leaving the villain. Their expression made all your instincts scream at you, preparing you for a fight.

Zor didn’t look angry, or mean, or possessive, or even bored.

They appeared friendly.

Friendly and pleased. If you had seen that look with anyone else, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. On anyone else it would be the look of a stranger having a good day.

But this wasn’t anyone else.

This was Zor.

And on Zor it meant nothing good for you while you were in their house and at their mercy. You headed over to the couch where Zor was sitting. They wore cargo shorts and a bright red Hawaiian shirt that had the top half of the buttons undone.

“Zor.”

“Glad to see you up and about. Did you sleep well?”

They beamed at you.

You glared back.

Zor brushed off your lack of a response. “Would you like some fruit?” They leaned forward and grabbed a tangerine from the fruit bowl sitting on the coffee table. Both items you hadn’t noticed before. “Here.”

They handed you the fruit they had grabbed. The moment you recognized that it was a tangerine, you threw it, using your TK to truly launch it far into the distance. You watched its flight path, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

It never came.

Instead, you watched as the orange dot landed in the ocean with an inaudible splash.

Zor erupted into laughter. “Wow,” they said, “Juniper really did a number on you!”

You clenched your jaw and kept your eyes out on the horizon. You easily put the blame for your reaction on the monster in front of you. You decided it would be best to keep your thoughts to yourself, though.

Zor grabbed another tangerine.

“Look at me.”

Reluctantly you turned to face them and was surprised to see that they still had a pleasant smile on their face despite their assertive tone. Although, their lips twitched as if they were fighting the urge to burst into laughter again. “This one will not explode. I promise,” they said with a wink.

You took the tangerine and started to peel it.

“Please, have a seat.” Zor gestured to the space next to them on the couch. You chose to sit on the couch opposite them on the other side of the coffee table. Zor sighed at your disobedience as if you were a petulant child but didn’t push it further. “Very well. Welcome to my home. How have you found your visit so far?”

You paused in your peeling. “Visit?”

“Why of course. Did you think that I’d be keeping you here forever?”

Honestly, you were expecting Zor to leave you to rot in a cell, so a luxurious beach house was a definite step up.

Freedom would be better.

You nodded.

Dr. Zor tsked. “Leaving you here to atrophy would be a waste of your talents. I would never do such a thing to the Agent Phoenix.” They looked at you with a gleam in their eyes that you couldn’t decipher.

You focused your attention back on your tangerine. “Any chance that my leaving would be unconditional?”

Zor scoffed. “Of course not, but you already knew that, didn’t you?” You placed the last bit of the tangerine peel on the table before separating a segment of the tangerine and popping it in your mouth. The flavor exploded on your tongue. It was a good tangerine.

“In order for you to leave the island, you will need to be loyal to me.”

You choked on the tangerine.

“Never,” you said once the tangerine was swallowed correctly.

Zor hummed. “I thought that might be your answer. Nonetheless, that’s the rule. You will either leave this island as a Zoraxis operative or not at all.”

You scowled at them. “Are there any other rules?” you spat.

Zor gave you a tight-lipped smile. “You’re free to access everything else on the island. The pool, the bowling alley, the gym…actually, I’d encourage you to use the gym. Wouldn’t want a future Zoraxis operative to grow rusty during their stay, now would we?” They smiled again, jokingly, and it made you sick.

“Stay out of my bedroom, bathroom, and office,” they continued. “If you respect my privacy, then I’ll respect yours. However, you’re welcome to anything in the kitchen and you can help yourself to my chef’s talents, but you will be joining me for dinner every day at six o’clock. And lastly, you can swim in the ocean, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“Why? Are the sharks naturally prone to attack humans?”

“No. I trained them to.”

They stood up from the couch. “Mi casa es su casa—” You cringed as Zor used your real name once again. “—See you at six.”

They turned around and started heading for the stairs.

“No.”

They stopped in their tracks, not even bothering to turn back around and face you.

“What did you say?”

To be continued

[johnkahner]

Omg, i'm so obsessed with your blog and your fics!!! I made this account just to like and interact with you... Sorry is this weird? ANYWAY, i saw a post about you asking for mk1 ideas to write... What you think about the reader being like one of liu kang chosen is a very talented sorcerer but kinda weird, he wears black all the time, its quiet, gloomy and enjoy ritualistic stuff but the other champions who are close to him find him very likeable, funny and kind and of course hes not evil just awkward.

BUT without anyone noticing he nurtures a massive crush on Tomas and is like really nervous when they interact, Tomas actually enjoy spending time with the reader a lot because of how interestingly weird the reader is... And maybe a mutual crush happening?? I dont know im so sorry for my bad english im so obsessed with this game and Tomas especially!

Also sorry if i'm not doing this right i never had a tumblr before hahaha ok sorry i talk to much

AN: Hi! Sorry this took a while. I'm glad you like the blog! It makes my day to see people interact with it. Your English is fine! I honestly haven't used Tumblr much till I made this account. This was also fun to write. I wrote the reader as male because you used he/him. I hope you enjoy it! Not proof read.

Notes: Male! Sorcerer! Reader

To be honest it was difficult to make friends with the people who were fighting for the protection of Earthrealm. Like the other champions and yourself got along wonderfully. However due to the stigma that sorcerer's had it was sometimes hard for you to get people to trust you. Not to mention your clothing color of choice, black, being most of the time considered an evil color.

Most people thought that you're working alongside the Deadly Alliance as some sort of spy, but that's far from the truth.

One day a Monk from the Wu Shi academy was yelling at you for some reason. You don't know what you supposedly did wrong, but most of the time if something bad happened others would blame you.

During the Monk's shouting the Lin Kuei trio were on their way to discuss something with Lord Liu Kang. Tomas approached closer to the two men to see what was wrong, and to find a solution that could fix things.

He sees you wearing a tired frown. Not a moment later you two connect eyes for a moment. It was different. There was no malice that you could feel coming from him.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"This fool was trying to listen to my conversation with Lord Liu Kang. Yet he insists that he isn’t just like a liar would.”

Looking paranoid not only for the false accusations that the Monk is making towards you, but Tomas is the one coming to your aid. Whenever he was near you, your nerves didn’t know how to act. Tomas smiled at you.

“I believe you are mistaken about my friend. He would never do that. Not to mention it’s not very polite to judge someone based on their appearances.”

The monk would argue with Tomas, but decides it’s better to just leave. Well after sending a glare in your direction.

“T-thank you for y-your help, T-tomas. I g-greatly appreciate it.” You bow a little. You really are grateful that he helped you out. He smiles at you.

“You're welcome, my friend. Would you like to hang out if you’re not busy?”

“O-oh! Sure, that w-would be nice.”

The two of you walk in silence for a moment. Enjoying the scenery around you two. After finding a place to sit down, he would ask you what it’s like to be a sorcerer and about some rituals you would perform sometimes. He wants to know almost everything about you and what interests you. Tomas listens very carefully to how you perk up at his questions, and how you ramble on about the little finer details of your explanations.

What you two don’t know is the mutual feelings that are forming between each other. Maybe one day it would blossom into a beautiful relationship.

[connoisseursdecomfort]

Side Mission vs Family: a chronological order of Twilight’s developing internal conflicts

SxF starts with a mission - Operation Strix, and because of the mission, the Forgers family is created. Before we get to the point where Twilight has to choose between his goals and his family (hopefully not unless you really want ANGST, and I know you do), another problem is seriously endangering his family mission - his side missions.

His side missions constantly take him away from his family, and we see the increasing guilt he’s been harbouring for leaving his family for side missions since the doggy crisis arc, and it’s not surprising that one day it has finally become a problem that could endanger his family main mission.

[Manga spoilers after the keep reading link]

0. The Beginning: “I will start a family for Operation Strix”

As early as in chapter 2, his side mission almost destroyed his pact with Yor:

Chapter 7 establishes that Twilight would miss some of the family activities because of his spy job.

The penguin chapter further establishes how busy Twilight in fact is. He’s away from his family a lot, and his family doesn’t really blame him because he looks as if he’s dying when he finally goes home.

This is the first time he brings his family with him while being on a side mission. It’s really about work-life balance balancing the two missions. Hence, we see how the idea of Loid “for the mission” Forger is conceived in this chapter. 

Even so, Twilight doesn’t necessarily feel guilty to be constantly away from his family because of his side missions. He’s just blindly falling in love. We all just didn’t know how much he would hold onto this stupid excuse as if his dear life depends on it later on.

1. “For the mission”: the Doggy Crisis Arc ~ the Tennis Arc

The doggy arc, basically another side mission Twilight had, is the first arc to reveal his internal conflicts among his mission/family. This is also the first time he really worries about his side mission affecting his family life main mission. Understandably, since he’s literally summoned when he’s in the middle of a family activity.

On one hand, this is the first time we see how he refers to the Forgers - not in spy terms, he simply calls them his family.

On the other hand, it is really the first crisis that forces him to step back and reevaluate his relationship with “his family”.

He consciously knows he should choose his missions over his family - in the next panel, he told himself this is for the “best future for everyone”.

He should certainly prioritise his missions, side missions included, over Yor and Anya, right?

In the manga the panel (in Short Mission 2) in which he has a drink with Franky happens before the doggy crisis arc. But it doesn’t really matter if happens before or after the arc. The incident only confirms that what he’s thinking about has been right all along: that he can’t afford to really have a relationship with Anya or Yor. At least for now.

This point onward, Twilight is slowly revealing his true identity as a character - the unreliable narrator. 

He has been a cool liar from the very start, but he was easy to read. It’s quite straightforward that he’s falling in love with his new family before the doggy crisis arc. It’s very easy to decipher what he really means judging from his expressions.

But at some point, he has decided to pull back and simply starts lying to himself. He starts to find excuses to justify his actions when it comes to his family. His worries over losing the family have been interpreted as fears of failing the mission.

This is really when the “for the mission” joke comes to shape, because it’s glaringly obvious to others that he’s SOOOOO in love.

What he says doesn't match up to how he acts:

The Tennis Arc is really the first arc a side mission really creates a tangible threat felt by both Yor and Anya. A side mission that could really take "Loid” away from this family.

But he has created such a strong excuse for himself to maintain the Forgers’ family continue the main mission, he has never considered carrying out his mission in ways other than the only way in his mind - to do it with Yor and Anya.  

(Of course, logically, Anya has already been enrolled. Everyone, especially people in Eden, knows that Yor is the mother. The Handler feels fine about the progress. There is no reason for him to change his mind.)

And he feels fine hiding in this comfort zone he’s created for himself, while doing stupid things like this:

Yes. We all see how swimmerly your main mission is going, Twilight.

2. For what mission: the cruise arc ~ the backstory arc

The cruise arc is interesting in many many ways. For Loid, it is the first time Endo takes away his stupid excuses. It is also the first time he shows guilt for leaving his family for other stuffs - and he doesn’t make up excuses for that.

It is first hinted when they had their first dinner on the cruise (Chapter 46).

We know that there are times he would be home late for his side missions and stuffs and miss dinner for that - “You miss dinner all the time”. We also know that if Yor is late, Loid and Anya tend to wait for her to have dinner.

This is the first time Endo shows us the hint of loneliness he feels when he is the one left alone. This could have added to the guilt he felt later when he had to leave Anya behind.

This time it’s not even his side missions that pulled him away - it’s his “for the greater good” goal. The realisation that he feels guilty for “abandoning his family” for other crises immediately throws him into a loop.

What is this family: a mission or something else? It is quite a dangerous revelation - he’s still had his priorities straight after the doggy arc, but towards the end of the cruise arc, his guilt is almost too noticeable for him to justify his action of “abandoning his family”. He quickly retreats and this is what he told the Handler:

As if we all don’t know he’s an idiot:

After tearing down his “for the mission” excuses, Endo went on to show who Twilight is, and more importantly, what his mission really is. Twilight was abandoned by the world, and in turn he abandons the world to work on his mission.

It has never been about WISE or Westalis. Even less about Operation Strix. It’s always been about what this little boy has lost.

The question if Twilight will ever be able to abandon the family always creates tensions, even among readers. And it’s even sadder to see that he would have to abandon Anya for the greater good - that the same thing has to happen again. A vicious cycle of abandonment issues.

But the difference is Twilight couldn’t stop his family and friends being taken away from him, and he could never get them back ever again. But for Anya, they are pretty much still here. Despite the fact that her parents have always had to leave for different missions, they come back to her.

Now of course this could just be something she sees via Bond. Anya is somehow weirdly optimistic that if Twilight doesn't know about the secrets of Yor and herself, they’ll be fine. She’ll just try her very best to complete the mission, and the family would just stay together.

Twilight, on the other hand, is the one who’s harbouring guilt for being away from them too often. With this guilt that is created by the side missions, and a bigger fear of “failing the mission” (whatever that means), now we have come to the bus arc. 

3. Retreat and progress: the bus arc ~ now

Twilight and Yor didn’t appear for the most part of the bus arc. Yor was simply kept in the dark, and Twilight was again on a side mission. He wasn't there until Chapter 75. All we know is that Twilight got back in time, brought another colleague with him, and sneaked into the strike team.

Now Endo left a lot of unresolved questions in this arc: how did he know? How did he get back? He went directly against the Handler’s order:

Sneaking into the strike team is the direct opposite of staying behind the scenes.

And after that we get bits and pieces of him being a good father: he bought a new car and decided to drive Anya to school instead. He brought Anya with him to a meeting with the Handler because she “really wants to play”. He’s actually very careful with what Anya eats, and is mindful of his sugar intake. It’s no longer for show - why on earth does he have to show off to his boss?

Bits and pieces of descriptions or evidence of how affectionate he really is has been deliberately placed in short conversations/dialogues since the bus arc started.

I said “deliberately”, because everyone on Endo;s team, including Lin and himself, would have known what the audience wants. Look at the merch. Everything is about the family being very happily together. And Endo just wouldn’t give us that.

If we look back, the side missions are just practice runs of him leaving - in every arc, at some point he would have to leave to solve a crisis. And every time he comes back with more and more guilt.

He has grown from this man who got the penguin so he could pretend that this was a happy family, to the man who gets his family cakes after he finishes a mission. He went from doing it for show, to actually lamenting himself for abandoning his family for other things.

He knows the side mission is taking him away from his family. And then the bus arc happened while he’s on a side mission. And this time, when Yor’s trying to have a conversation about him being away too much, he has to leave. For the mission.

Right after Yor accuses him for abandoning his family for work.

I’m just saying that’re really a lot of coincidences if Endo’s not up to something. 

I still don’t know if this arc will make up for all the deliberate void Endo has created. Maybe. But I’m just very excited to see what happens next, and how he deals with his relationships with Yor and Anya.

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 2

Battle! (Johto Gym Leader) from Pokémon Masters EX

vs.

The Spy and the Liar from I Expect You to Die 2: The Spy and the Liar

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

The Spy and the Liar:

A Bond theme pastiche sung by the incredible Puddles Pity Party.

[kuwdora]

13 Books Meme

What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!

1) The Last book I read: Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World collected by Pádraig Ó Tuama 2) A book I recommend: The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi by Shannon Chakraborty 3) A book that I couldn’t put down: Liar, Temptress, Soldier, Spy by Kate Abbott 4) A book I’ve read twice (or more): Explorer (Foreigner #6) by CJ Cherryh

5) A book on my TBR: A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

6) A book I’ve put down: Spin State by Chris Moriarty

7) A book on my wish list: I don’t currently have a wishlist but I’d probably put Evan Kennedy’s poetry collection Metamorphoses on it. 8) A favorite book from childhood: The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman 9) A book you would give to a friend: Xenogensis Saga by Octavia Butler 10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own: Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke 11) A nonfiction book you own: The Making of the Planet of the Apes by J. W. Rinzler 12) What are you currently reading: There’s Always This Year by Hanif Abdurraqib and Burnout by Emily Nagsoki and Amelia Nagsoki and The Infernal Machines & Other Plays by Jean Cocteau. 13) What are you planning on reading next? A Fortune for Your Disaster by Hanif Abdurraqib. Also I technically had started this book already but I'll be picking up James Clive's Cultural Amnesia again. Next audiobook is hopefully going to be Eragon by Christopher Paolini or T. Kingfisher's What Moves the Dead, whatever comes next on my library holds. Oh, who am I tagging... if you want to do it, hmmmm... @wren-of-the-woods @reinvent-and-believe @soymimikyu @dancingwiththefae @ars-amatoria and hmmm. @crushcandles @danegen and anyone else who wants to talk about their current books.

[siderealscribblings]

Subject Lohefalter made contact with one of the agents from the Tsaritsa's new state department. A heated (pardon the pun) battle was anticipated, but Subject Lohefalter appears to have left the area shortly before or at the same time as the Snezhnayans.  Will monitor the situation closely, but Subject Lohefalter may have found a new allegiance with the Snezhnayans.  Awaiting new orders,  - A 

Neuvillette ran his fingers over the note thoughtfully, disappointed that it raised more questions than it answered. Egeria had once sent the Oceanids throughout the world to keep her informed on the other nations; Furina had to make due with maintaining a spy network of mortal ex-soldiers and intelligence officers. Not as stealthy as Oceanids could be, but at least the mortal spies could follow orders.  

The Witch is going to Snezhnaya, Neuvillette thought, leaning back in the window seat overlooking the dark waters below. What does this mean ?

It was close to two in the morning when the messenger bird rapped on his window with a scroll attached to its leg. Against his better judgment, he took the note to decode in his private study next to his bedroom rather than save it for the morning. Of course it wasn't good news; Neuvillette had rarely heard anything but bad news where the so-called Crimson Witch of Flames was concerned, but her new connection to Snezhnaya was particularly troubling. The Tsaritsa had been assembling a small army of monsters for years and Neuvillette was no longer convinced that she was as peaceful as she claimed to be. Though he could never tie the assassination attempt a few years earlier to the Snezhnayans, it was hard to imagine who else would arm a man with an elemental blade and send him running at an Archon in the middle of the street. 

This is going to be a problem, Neuvillette thought, rubbing his eyes as sleep seemed to be far out of reach.

"What's all this commotion?" Neuvillette snapped out of his musing as a soft voice called from the doorway. Furina's hair was still tousled from sleep, sticking up in odd angles as she pulled a dressing gown over her thin blue nightgown and stuck her head in the room. 

"I don't believe I said anything," Neuvillette said, pushing himself up as Furina entered his study. 

"Then you must've been thinking so loudly that you woke me," Furina chuckled, wiping her nose on the corner of her dressing gown. The closer she got, the more he could see her red, puffy eyes and tear-tracks dried on her cheeks

"Is something wrong?" Neuvillette asked. 

Furina waved her hand dismissively. "Oh…just a stupid dream; nothing all that exciting." 

Liar , Neuvillette thought. Furina hadn't heard anything; she just wanted to come to him after a bad dream but needed a plausible reason first. As much as he made himself available to her, she still took the effort to concoct reasonable excuses to conceal any hint of neediness whenever she asked something of him. He had been pulled into plenty of “late night strategy sessions” that turned out to be thinly veiled asks for company after an unsettling dream or challenging day in the forum. Neuvillette didn’t particularly mind…he just wished she could afford him a little honesty by now. 

Furina acted for everyone; Neuvillette just happened to be the one she acted the least for. But she still acted fine when she very clearly wasn't; she still acted like each setback and heartbreak they faced in their rebellion against destiny didn't affect her. He was beginning to see the toll it took; the optimistic spark in her eye had melted away over the years until he could barely see a glimmer. The human heart was only built to be strong for so long, and Furina was quickly reaching the limits of its intended design. 

"Mmhmm," Neuvillette hummed. "Bored you to tears by the look of it." 

"Ha ha," Furina deadpanned, wiping her cheeks. "Kindly stick to practicing law; the Opera is not prepared to host a comedian of your biting wit."

"Every genius is underappreciated in their time," Neuvillette said. "I'm sure history will judge me more kindly than you do." 

"Archons write the history of their nations; don't count on it," Furina said, her smug smirk dropping as her eyes drifted to the opened wax tube on Neuvillette's desk. "Did we hear from Mondstadt?" 

Neuvillette held the note between his fingers as Furina quietly locked the door and shuffled over to the window seat. "Good news?" 

"... news," Neuvillette said, tucking his legs up against his chest as Furina took her seat on the opposite side of the window seat. He watched her hold the note up to the light to read it, moonlight reflecting off her still dewy cheeks. It felt almost cruel to add to her unhappiness, but Furina had no patience for being coddled or treated with kid-gloves.

( "I will be one hundred years old before the decade is out, Neuvillette," Furina huffed, channeling Focalors in all her indignant fury after she discovered that he had softened a casualty report out of concern for her reaction. "Do not think I am so fragile that you need to hide things from me !")

It wasn't that he thought her fragile; it was just that watching her eyes droop as she read the note stung him terribly. He detested being the cause of her shoulders sagging, responsible for yet another chip out of Furina's battered heart. Furina was going to bounce back; she always did.

He just hated that she had to fall in the first place.

Read More...

[antheraea]

Flash Was Killed Because It Was Objectively Dangerous

I get it, I get the Flash nostalgia and the fondness for old Flash games. I was big on Neopets before they decided to ruin the art and make all the pets samey paper dolls to play dressup with (completely ruining the point of the far more expensive "redraw" colors like Mutant and Faerie and Desert). I have fond memories of Newgrounds games and I even managed to take a class for a semester in high school where I could learn flash.

But I also remember how terrible it was. And you should too.

Leaving aside all of the issues involving performance and inaccessibility (such as being easily broken by bog-standard browser actions like the back button, and its ability to modify web code AND OS code in real time likely broke a lot of accessibility tech too), Flash was legitimately one of the most dangerous web technologies for the end user. An end-user is you, or more specifically back then, child-you.

According to Wikipedia and its sources, Flash Player has over a thousand vulnerabilities known and listed and over 800 of these lead to arbitrary code execution.

What is arbitrary code execution? That's when someone can just run any commands they want on a machine or program that didn't intend it. A fun way to see this is in this infamous Pokemon tool-assisted speedrun where they manage to get an SNES to show the host's twitch chat in real time. It's not so fun though when it's someone stealing all the files on your computer, grabbing your credentials so they could clean out your Neopets account (yes, really, it was a pretty common concern at the time), and other nefarious works. Also, there was a time where it allowed people to spy on you with your webcam and microphone.

Oh and on top of all of this, Flash had its own "flash cookies", which could not be cleared by ordinary means and thus could be used to track users indefinitely, at least until Adobe slapped a bandaid over it by introducing yet another screen an ordinary person wouldn't know to use. (I assume this is how the infamous neopets "cookie grabbers" worked, so they could get into your account. This is mainly what I remember about using Flash back in the early 2000s lol) So it not only was a "stranger taking over your machine" concern, but a bog-standard privacy concern too, arguably a precursor to our current panopticon internet landscape, where greedy websites would track you because they could and maybe get some money out of it, facilitated by this technology.

When Apple decided to block it, it wasn't out of greed; Steve Jobs cited its abysmal performance and security record, among other issues such as an inherent lack of touchscreen support, and Apple cited specific vulnerability use-cases when blocking specific versions before they nuked it entirely. When Mozilla, who makes Firefox, decided to block it, it's not like they would've gotten money out of doing so, or by offering an alternative; they did so because it is fucking dangerous.

Your ire and nostalgia is misplaced. Flash was not killed by our current shitty web practices that ruin unique spaces and fun games. Flash was killed because both Macromedia (its original developers) and Adobe were incapable of making it safe, if that was even possible, and it was killed after third-parties, in an unprecedented gesture, collectively threw their hands up and said enough.

Well, that and HTML5 being developed and becoming more widespread, being able to do everything Flash can do without being a pox on technology. One could argue that you should bemoan the lack of Flash-to-HTML5 conversion efforts, but that requires asking a lot of effort of people who would have to do that shit for free...and if they have to run Flash to do so, opening themselves up to some of the nastiest exploits on the internet.

Nostalgia is a fucking liar. The games themselves I think are worth having nostalgia over (look, I still find myself pining for that one bullet hell Neopets made and Hannah and the Pirate Caves), but Flash itself deserves none of that, and absolutely deserved to be put in the fucking ground. You're blaming the wrong causes. It was terrible.

(specifics and sources found via its wikipedia page, which has a lot more than is mentioned here. and also my own opinions and experiences back then. lol)

[aikoiya]

Aikoiya's Writing Tips Masterlist

Important:

Everyone Who Makes NSFW Content (And Those Who Are Uncomfortable With NSFW)

Dadvice - Yo, if any young dude sees this & they don't have a dad or father figure in their lives to explain stuff, go here. I hope it helps.

Club To Teach Fatherless Boys To Be Men

Reporting A Suicide on Tumblr!!

Remember To Download Fave Fics On Ao3

Google Alternatives

Photopea Is Photoshop For Free

You Can Give People 2nd Kudos On Ao3!!

How Get Sleep

Scaling Pain, Fatigue, & Happiness - Helps pinpoint how you're doing.

Tumblr Chrono Mode

Google's "Track My Device" Tracking

Media Wellness

AI-FREE GOOGLE

Bikers Against Child Abuse

"Dangerous Rhetoric" vs Legit Dangerous Rhetoric

Is Your Car Spying On You? How To Check!

A New Sex-Trafficking Method!! (PROTECT YOURSELVES, EACH OTHER, & ESPECIALLY KIDS!!!!)

Also, keep in mind that I'll be updating this whenever I find decent writing tips. So, check back with the version on my blog whenever, even if you've reblogged already.

My Stuff:

Tips For New Writers

The Importance of Establishing the Rules of Your Fic - Warning: This one's a bit of a rant.

Proper Characterization In Ships - Just my personal 2 cents.

Realistic Resurrection Mechanics - From a storytelling standpoint. (League of Legends)

Portrayal of Deities in Fanfics

Portrayals of War Gods & Other Such Nonesense

Haunted Jukebox

You Will Always Be You - Motivational

Blessed Be The Creative

How I Define Shipping

Fear the Man Who Fears No God

Female Fighting Styles

This Hatred Is Unreasonable

What If You're Wrong?

Also, OneLook is a Godsend. If you're looking for a word, but all you have is the definition, then OneLook might help. Now, it isn't 100%, but it's definitely useful.

Other People's Stuff: (If anyone doesn't want their stuff on this list, please tell me & I'll remove it)

How To Tag & Properly Tagging Ships On Ao3 - / is for romance, & is for non-romance! DO NOT USE BOTH UNLESS BOTH ARE APPROPRIATE!!!

Guide To Naming Settlements

Realistic Way To Write More Consistently - Evidently works with Autism?

Motivation for Writing

Tips For Writing Dialogue

Canon Isn't Gospel, But It's Useful & Fun

Fight Scenes Advice - @illarian-rambling

Advice For Writing Deaf/Mute/Blind Characters

Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block & How To Fix It

How To Give Your Characters Chemistry - @tanaor

Fighting Scene Vocab

Writer's Block Cure Ideas

Types of Writer's Block

Why You Might Be Procrastinating & How To Fix It

Ways To Solve The 'Why Not Use Magic To Fix Everything' Question

Snappy Responses To "We're Soldiers; I'm Doing My Job"

Foreshadowing

Motivation Debugging

Long-Fic Help

When Characters First Learn Swordfighting

Writing Blacksmiths

Fantasy Guide To Royal Households & How They Work

Computer Shortcuts

Writing Liars Believably

Love vs Lust

Love Isn't A Feeling <- Everything here is correct!

How to Depict Heartbroken Body Language in a Man

Levels of Headcanon

Evil Is Boring

How To Write Non-Linearly

Subtle Familial Mannerisms

20 Compelling Positive-Negative Trait Pairs

Pain Has A Purpose!!

Giving Your Story A Message - @artist-issues

50 Alternatives For "Said"

Accurately Portraying Pro-Lifers

Magical Crimes

Medical: (Sponsored By @skyloftian-nutcase)

Ways You Can Pass Out

Dealing With Stab & Arrow Wounds

Time To Die of Organ Ruptures

Bluntforce Abdominal Injury

Writing Bloodloss

Seizure First Aide

Writing A Character In Pain

Other Stuff:

DnD Subclass & Profession Ideas

Urban Neurosis - Carl Jung

Keeping Character Sexualities In-Character

Twin Protagonists

Master Masterlist <- Go here to see every other Masterlist. Mostly fandoms.