#that'll be a problem for end-of-the-year me

[jlf23tumble]

Fic Rec Anon - The best fics are deleted?!? No…

Canon, AU, Older or Newer, No ABO, No Mpreg.

Allstars? As in greatest of the greats? Yes please.

I loved Balm that you rec’d and that recent Oli fic. Of Mates and Men too.

Yeah, some of the very best authors have opted to delete, and rightfully so--fanfic is a gift, and if people are gonna be assholes, well, then no gifts! And I fully support any author who makes that move. I tend to download my faves so I can read them later, it just means that when I go look for a bookmark, it's sad to see the whole "this fic was deleted" (paraphrasing) notification..thank god I jot down author and fic name! Anyway, I digress, you have an ask, and I have a rather lengthy answer that I'll put under the cut:

So yeah, I use collections for bookmarks, and two of them are all-stars, the greatest of the great, so this was a relatively easy ask to answer, thanks to past me. The trick was editing back: each collection has close to 100 faves, so I decided to go with a theme. Welcome to the 21 club, I'm going to give you 21 all-star AUs and 21 all-star canons! To cheat, I went with different authors in both categories, and I picked authors whose work I love across the board, so do yourself a favor and go check out everything else they wrote, too--tbh, these were some REALLY hard choices to make!!

CANON

Self-cest, @jaerie, 2k. Is as it says!

Us, Me, We, @homosociallyyours, 2.3k. More self-cest!

No Control, thegirlwthekittentattoo, 2.6k. The bra's name is Christi, with an i!

she makes you want her love, enbyharry/ @non-binharry, 2.7k. BLs can't take this top!harry!

Feel my breath upon your thighs, cuckootrooke/ @larrydoinglaundry, 3k. This happened!

Want It Tonight, @lovingstheantidote, 3.4k. Teach me!

like craters in the moon, orphan_account, 3.9k. Dimple kink!

She Feels so Good, zedi, 4k. Late Late Show antics!

Fertile Ground, blaaake, 4.4k. If you've read Balm, come on!

mon petit, little one, publunchesownmyass, 5.6k. That sweater!

Google Says Cut That Out, littlemousling, 6k. Baby bdsm!

You Don't Need Me to Show the Way, loadedgunn, 6.5k. Tourbus shenanigans!

Only Thing That Can Quench My Thirst, eyesofshinigami, 6.5k. My beloved pubes fic!

One day to believe in you, mediaville, 7.7k. To tell the truth!

no one's gonna know, @jishlerfics, 9k. Oh, they'll know!

give you my fever, beautlouis, 10k. A literal virgin!

Temporary Tattoos, Hotel Hearts, Horizon Homes, teumessian, 17k. The only time travel fic I love!

The bootyverse is expanding series, yeah_alright/ @uhoh-but-yeah-alright, 21k. Every story, a GEM!

yeah, he's a looker, @thedevilinmybrain, 40k. Oli's sex-related errands!

Time Passed, coffinofachimera, 66k. A heart-clencher!

AU

It's About Time, @kingsofeverything, 3.5k. Older and clueless!

With Just One Look, @littleroverlouis, 4k. Vampire Louis!

sensitive to pressure, momentofclarity/ @gaycousinlarry, 4.4k. I want moreeeeeeeee sweat kink!

this is my jam, @disgruntledkittenface, 4.5k. '90s bath house!

Copy of a…, nonsensedarling/ @absoloutenonsense, 5.5k. Return of the clone-a-willy!

Make Me Feel, @bananaheathen, 10k. Can u believe this was mid-omam!

Tuxedo Dress-Up, blaaake, 11k. Hands down, my very fave!

into another (another) serotonin overflow, mercutionotromeo, 11k. So much goin' on!

A Slow and Steady Rush, godots, 11k. The title matches the vibes!

it ain't trickin' if ya got it, sarcasticfluentry, 10k. UNPARALLELED smut writer!

Thought the Song Was Sung, 100percentsassy, 12k. The banter!

Alien Roadtrip!, @helloamhere, 16k. Is as it says!

Ever Since I Tried Your Way, flowercrownfemme, 25k. 1940s dreaminess!

Take Our Bodies Higher, @littlelouishiccups, 26k. Phone sex operator Harry!

Buried Like Treasure, QuickedWeen/ @becomeawendybird, 40k. This heist, plus some Marcel!

hush., wankerville, 41k. The SWOON of this story, holy shit, it's cinematic.

Tied Down, HamPalpert, 48k. This absolutely SHOULD be a movie!

Harry Styles Cooks…, sunsetmog, 61k. A wip that'll never finish, but who cares, god tier as is!

Not That Gone series, abrighteryellow/ @a-brighter-yellow, 66k. High school reunion results!

Turning Page, purpledaisy, 67k. Another movie I wanna see!

[willothewips]

ok well I'm incompetent or tumblr is. tried doing this in the tags and messed it up so I'll just go for it bc literally losing sleep thinking about this post

I keep thinking about it and I like the idea that dash DOESNT know danny is half ghost/The Phantom (and since Danny is "retired" why would he find out unless told) just realized the Fentons were fighting real life ghosts / real life dangers

and maybe as he got older developed an ex-bully complex where he wants to make up for it / wants to help and protect people, esp kids

so when he overhears danny and jazz planning on going to Gotham, no hero business but wanting to help in small ways (like as a teacher), dash is just like "yeah, good idea. I'll go and teach scrawny teens how to defend themselves."

(plus growing up in amity they're all probably adrenaline junkies and need some kind of terror going on nearby to feel Normal)

and ok that addition about danny having scars visible under his t-shirt? that was Good.

and jason figuring out danny was an ex hero? that was also very good.

but I raise you: one of them asking danny all sorts of questions to figure out why he quit being a hero even after red huntresses warning like "was it too hard? getting those scars too painful? whatever whatever is that the reason you gave up the fight?"

and eldritch ghost king danny replies with a smile "give up? I didn't give up. I won."

Short DPXDC Prompts #468

Danny is a Chemistry teacher at Gotham Academy. His favorite student is Tim. He shocks the students by teaching and creating a Fear Antitoxin for the kids to learn as part of their curriculum.

[genshin-scenarios]

spiderverse continued: you’re a sunflower—! 🌻

Summary: As requested, here are the continuations to my previous Spiderverse post here!

Characters: Kinich, Heizou, Tighnari-Cyno, Venti, Wriothesley, Lyney

Warnings: Mild depictions of a panic attack for Wriothesley. Major character death in Lyney ‘bad end’ option (there is also a good end so don't worry!)

Kinich

When interdimensional rifts start to appear in Kinich’s world, he's not-so-proud to admit it made him a little hopeful that instead of an abyssal monster, it'd be you that falls out instead.

His wish is granted—somewhat, when he sees you. Not spiderman-you, but the version of you from his world who he's never met before.

You tell him you’re a test subject from a governmental organisation who got lost in the rifts many years ago (they were researching multi-dimensions). 

That at least explained why Kinich couldn't find traces of a ‘you’ from his dimension before (he was totally not pining and definitely wasn't disappointed when his searches came up empty)

Other than his one-sided attachment however, Kinich did have a practical reason for staying in contact with you. You seem to have gained abyssal powers from staying in the rifts for so long, and you're a crucial key to figuring out how to close them for good.

At the end of your first cooperation, Kinich drops a line that he wished he could've said to the other-you: at the core of the sentiment, he was truly just afraid you’d disappear back into the rifts and never meet again. 

“Come to me if you have any problems. For you, I'll do anything.”

You stay quiet, giving him a small smile before disappearing to your hideout. Considering how you were just a lost test subject, you weren't very keen on going back to the organisation that used to own you… but more baffling are the flashbacks that keep entering your mind—memories from spider-you in bittersweet, rose-coloured lenses. 

It wasn't uncommon for you to witness the memories of your other-dimensional selves, but ever since returning to your original world, this spider-version’s memories have been invading your mind.

Kinich knows you aren't the same person, but he does feel a soft spot for you nevertheless. As time goes on, he’ll notice similarities and differences between this-you and spider-you. 

Is it possible to fall for the same person twice? It seems that no matter which version, Kinich's drawn like a moth to a flame (clearly, he has a type. Or perhaps there's some element about being soulmates that'll better explain this). He’ll earn your trust slowly and get to know the current-you as an individual, and pay the price for loving you twice by convincing you that he's seeing the real you, instead of an imagined spider-other. 

The first time you truly let your guard down is when he's tending to animals in the nature reserve—his serious face while carrying a very cure hippo calf in his arms was truly a sight to behold:

“What is it?” “Nothing—I just never thought an animal could look so cute.”

Kinich thinks for a moment about how cute the sanctuary's animals might be. You guys had hit a roadblock in your plans and needed a way to divert police forces away from the Abyss-monsters. He tells you his idea. Your jaw drops. 

"We are NOT using the animals as bait!” "They aren't bait, we're just... letting them loose."

In the city. To divert traffic.

"I can already see the headlines,” you cross your arms. “Spiderman endangers animals - menace or hero?"

Kinich thinks to himself that he wouldn't mind being a menace, if it'll draw this expressive of a reaction from you.

Heizou

It isn't uncommon for Heizou to rescue you as Spiderman, particularly when he's late for a meeting and was swinging to avoid traffic, or when there's a villain on the loose.

“Late for a meeting, Reporter?” He asks as he swings the both of you between office towers, knowing full-well that the meeting in question was with him. Heizou is also not above small-talk as he asks you about the famous detective you're dating, and what you like about him:

“I feel like this is a little bit too personal, even if you've saved my life.” You raise your brow. “But if you must know, Detective Heizou has many charming traits, down to his impressive intellect and close-combat abilities. I'd say he can even give you a run for your money.”

You'd never say something so grandiose to his civilian-self. “Do you boast about him to everyone, or is it just your way of letting me know you're taken?”

“What do you think, Spiderman?”

Heizou thinks he should buy you flowers more often for being his number one spokesperson, but you’ll only chide him for buying too many things for you.

“Another gift?” You blink in surprise, accepting the box from Heizou. “I'm starting to wonder just how much you earn as a detective. Maybe I should switch careers.”

“I’ll have you know that I only buy things with sentimental value.” His eyes glimmer as he watches for your reaction. Your gaze widens when you see the necklace that shines with the same green shade as his eyes. It doubles as a safety beacon that'd send him your location if you pressed it in an emergency—thoughtful as he always is. 

“Anyways, could you help me make out these words? The handwriting is horrible.” He passes a notebook to you. Fully ready to help with the task, you're caught completely off-guard by details to a restaurant, finished by a not-so-subtle ‘date?’

“Heizou… you're already my boyfriend, are the pickup lines really–” “What does it say?” “...Would the beautiful person sitting across me like to go on a date.” “You didn't read out where, but I suppose I'm not picky about blindly following you.” “Heizou.” “You can even blindfold me if you'd like~”

Tighnari-Cyno

Remember the thank-you kiss on the cheek you gave to Vulpes? Yeah… That innocent gesture has somehow ended up in the tabloids, and you've been badgered by reporters who want to know if you're connected to the Spidermen ever since!

It gets to a point where Tighnari and Cyno have started to escort you in public areas just to try and give you some peace of mind—meanwhile, Tighnari might be beating himself up a little for causing you trouble. Sure, neither of you knew some sleuthing reporter could’ve witnessed it, but the damage is done.

“Maybe you should try to prove to the public that nothing is going on.” Tighnari numbly suggests. “Vulpes should've seen the newspapers by now. If he has any conscience as a hero, he should at least put it on the record that you don't know each other and get the media off your back.”

“I agree. If this continues, you could be in danger of being targeted by worse people.” Cyno says. “I believe that the superheroes patrol every now and then, so you could just leave a message somewhere discreet but visible from the sky.”

That was the plan, until a villain got to you and kidnapped you first. At this point you aren't even sure if you should laugh or cry at your luck—as the situation unfolds, both you and the Superheroes realise that the villain had a deluded image of your relationship (he read too many tabloids and thinks you're dating Vulpes). One thing leads to another, and when the villain finally has Vulpes trapped, you play the last card that comes to mind—unmasking the bottom half of Lupus’ face and kissing him right in front of them.

The shock gave Vulpes just enough time to break out of his binds and take down the villain, but not without returning to you and Lupus with his ears red (not visible but you definitely could tell from his voice) and clutching his forehead.

The clarification with the media was well-thought out and sufficed to bring your daily life back to normal, but your daily life with Tighnari and Cyno? A whole other story. The entire fiasco and theories about you dating their hero-selves has made the two a lot more conscious about their crushes on you—which somehow manifested into a lot of trouble!

Cyno can't believe that you gave him your first kiss without even knowing it's him. And Tighnari, well… let's just say that Lupus is going to have a very hard time during their next patrol. (Love and peace will come when your polytrio starts dating as civilians. Being committed makes them less petty)

Venti

“Guess who!” 

“Who else would be able to break into my room?” You muse, removing the hands which have covered your eyes, accompanied by a melodic hum. “Don't tell me you're here for open-night mic at the teahouse?”

“Hmm… that would be a nice idea, but it's actually because I have something to show you.” Venti smiles. “Care to go for a swing?”

Even before becoming Spiderman, Venti always had a penchant for high-up places as hideouts for writing music. What you don't expect however is for him to have found a similar spot in Liyue—with a view so beautiful during the sunset that he just had to bring you to it, regardless of how tired he must be from travelling to your city alone.

Things get a easier when you gain access to a waypoint device and registered Mondstadt as one of your destinations. It's your turn to crash in Venti's room while he goes on patrol, waiting for him to come back while you keep an eye on his navigation and police radio.

When he encounters a villain who you've only heard of as a rumour before, you're quick to don your own uniform, send a distress signal to your teammates, and join the fight yourself. 

There's a certain level of trust required to work together in such a high-speed environment, but the two of you make-do with your earpieces and manage to take the villain down. This is the first time Venti’s meeting your teammates, and is surprised to hear that they've heard about him before—not as Spiderman, but ‘that one cutie’ from your home-city that you’re ‘crazy about’.

Suffice to say you turned to violent threats very quickly to silence them and save your dignity, but the moment Venti heard the word ‘cute’ it was over—he manages to trap you in Mondstadt for now while your teammates send the villain back to headquarters, waving the both of you cheerily goodbye as Venti, still suited, keeps an arm around your shoulders. 

When you've retreated to the safety of his room and settled for the night, right as you thought that maybe the comment has escaped his mind—Venti peers up from his laid-down position on his stomach, at you who's sitting up and reading on your phone.

“So, there's this hometown sweetheart you have a crush on-?”

You have a feeling that he might begin a hunt if you dared to joke that it isn't him you were yapping about. And while you know that Venti wouldn't hurt anyone—it's somehow hard not to feel like you're in danger when his eyes are glimmering knowingly like that. (You feel the skip of a heart—your heart, to be exact.)

Wriothesley

Things get bad when you—a renowned detective—are framed for a crime you didn't commit. 

It's normally you bailing Wriothesley out of trouble with corporations and the media, after all, not the other way around. So when you sneak into his hideout with a cloak and looking worse for wear, Wriothesley knows that this isn't like the past times a villain is targeting you—whoever is on your case now is out for something important, and you'll both have to figure out what it is before it's too late.

Most of this adventure involves you living undercover as a regular civilian rather than your usual, detective self. It's almost domestic as you befriend the coworkers in Wriothesley's underground business, and become known as just another reporter who wants to ‘find out the truth’ about your detective-self's scandal.

People underestimate you because you've been pretending to be helpless in combat, letting Wriothesley take charge—allowing you to pretend you've been knocked out and do some sleuthing of your own at some point. But when all of that is done, Wriothesley has to hide a chuckle when you throw yourself back into character:

“Oh, thank god you're back! I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come in time!”  “I can still see your weapon in your coat.”  “Ah… And just where are you looking, Mr Wriothesley? My eyes are up here.”

The two of you are so unserious sometimes that it annoys your opponents, to be honest. But when things take a serious, darker turn, you're both faced with the reminders of your past staring back at you.

Suddenly, all the bravado in your body bleeds away, leaving a gaping hole in your chest that’s wide with panic. It's suddenly hard to breathe, but before you can devolve any further, you’re anchored by a grip on your shoulder which draws you into a firm chest. 

Even suited, you can still feel Wriothesley’s body heat and the loud thumps of his heart. Whether it be from fighting or seeing the same fears as you, you buried your head in his embrace nonetheless—pretending for a second that the world has slowed down.

Even the greatest of detectives may one day face a truth they cannot handle alone. Who would've thought that the thing which’ll comfort you is akin to a spider, which scatters out from the same shadow?

Lyney

I've already written some additional thoughts about Lyney here and here, so in this post I'll write a sort of ‘how it ends’ situation!

Like the theme suggests, this is how Lyney knowing your identity might end for the both of you…

A common enemy appears in the form of a mad scientist obsessed with abyssal technology, who's summoned a monster from the depths of the ocean (the narwhal).

There's a long-winded investigation from both you and the House of Hearth (the Fatui may be antagonistic, but they don't want to destroy their home) which finally collides when you run into the Phantom Twins at a very suspicious site. From there on, the twins have been cooperating with Spiderman to find the source of the unnatural floods around the city, and even helped out with evacuations.

Your impression of the Phantom Twins soften when you witness Lyney push himself too much whilst saving bystanders, ending up with a sprained leg. You offer to carry him back to the meeting point, which he vehemently refuses via evasive remarks, before your insistence makes him falter.

…Ah, how was he supposed to avoid you like this? You're just too heroic for your own good.

You're surprised by how light he is, which he takes slightly in offence. But more importantly—he's burning up! Having built up a fever from working night after night and not getting enough rest, you hand the masked fatuus to his sister and tell her to make sure he gets some rest. (You know it's bad when he's not as annoying as usual)

Lyney is mortified when you hear about his absence (due to illness) at school and asked Lynette if you could visit to pass him class notes. At this point Lynette doesn't know you're Spiderman but does know about Lyney’s huge crush, so she agrees and even says you can hang around and try to cheer him up, since he's been moping lately (mostly because he can't join on missions for now, but civilian-you doesn't know that.)

He can't decide if he's elated, embarrassed, concerned (or a jumble of all the above) when you step into his room, notes from class and snacks in hand. His injured leg is hidden beneath his blanket covers. Lynette quickly disappears after giving him a thumbs up, leaving the two of you alone. It's your first time seeing Lyney so tired, but the softness that he always holds towards you remains nonetheless. Your thoughts even wander back to when you encountered him as Spiderman for the first time and noticed an oddness in his attitude—something cold in his eyes despite his warm tone and smile.

It's leagues away from the normal Lyney that speaks to you or anyone else at school. But a couple of months later, you run into him as Spiderman again and notice that the coldness is no longer there.

Strange. Perhaps it’s just distrust towards you when you were still a new superhero? The press hasn't exactly been kind with their criticisms, so you can see why some people might be wary about you.

But still, something about that encounter versus his usual self still lingers in your mind, and you realise after a while that it's because you care whether or not he likes you.

But that's ridiculous. You're just friends, right?

Bad end, warning for major character death: by the time you realise that Lyney isn't just a friend, he's already sacrificed himself in the fight against the narwhal, only to reveal his identity at the very end as he tells you to protect his siblings and the city. “Under regular circumstances, I'd very much prefer to be alive and do it myself—but there are some things that only superheroes can do. So make sure not to break my heart by wasting my sacrifice, alright?” Do I now feel more like a hero, to you?

Good end: in a critical moment, Lyney tries to sacrifice himself but you jump in the way. In his panic, he calls out your real name, just as backup arrives from Lynette and Freminet.

“You… How did you know?” 

It hurts that you're looking at Lyney with such terror, with a guarded clench in your jaw as you pick up a random weapon in an effort to steel yourself. “Answer me now, before—”

“Please don't be too mad,” Lyney raises his palms, finally coming clean. You eyes widen as he slides his own mask off, wincing from the injury on his leg which has reopened during the fight. “I didn't say anything because I knew the city needed you.” Then, a pause. “...And it's a little complicated when you learn that the person you like has also been your alter-ego’s rival.”

With a weak smile, Lyney has the nerve to pick out an item from his cloak pocket and fold it into a little rose. He gives it to you like a delicate piece offering, before retracting and giving you space. Before you can start to piece together a response, he’s fled the scene with his siblings—who judging from their shock earlier, also did not know about Lyney’s knowledge until this moment.

You can only hope that the three of them keep their mouths shut. But despite all the practical issues and feelings of betrayal coiling in your chest—why was Lyney’s expression still lingering on your mind?

He smiled at you like he was afraid of how you'd react.

…Did your feelings really matter to him so much?

[steviewashere]

Late night fic idea that I'm definitely going to try and write at some point!!

Definitely very angsty. Steve's got bad parents. A few arguments. And Steve basically restarting his adult life. But it would definitely have a happy ending! Walk with me here.

In early 1987, Steve gets into a nasty argument with his parents. About how much of a disappointment he is, how he can't hold a good enough job, that he's just not who they wanted him to be. They tell him, pretty loudly, that if he can't grow up, then he needs to get out.

He, of course, is very upset by the result of this argument. Because he's trying his damn hardest at this whole adult thing. He's trying his damn hardest to be the person everybody wants him to be; the older brother, the best friend, the boyfriend—the good guy. Yet, even though he's completely emotionally devastated, he still goes to Eddie's because they have a date.

He's not very attentive during the date. Ignoring Eddie's comments sometimes. Giving half answers. And Eddie takes it the opposite of something wrong with Steve—no, he thinks there's something wrong with him. They end up having their own nasty, explosive argument. One that ends with Eddie muttering something along the lines of, "God, I hate you so much right now." He doesn't mean it, knows he doesn't mean it because it's too easy to just say a bullshit claim than talk it all out, hash it out as it is, figure out the root of the problem. However, Steve doesn't know this. Steve thinks Eddie means it.

Thinks that Eddie's just been putting on this interested facade to save Steve's lonely, battered heart. That maybe the novelty of their relationship ran out a long time ago. Eddie's just now telling it as it is; the same way Nancy had. A bullshit relationship, one that never meant anything. (And similar to Nancy, they don't really mean it. It's all just moment of passion stuff).

Steve leaves Eddie's. Leaves with his heart dropped out of him, wet and dead on Eddie's carpet. He leaves with bile in the back of his throat, eyes that ache, a head that's too messy to sort through. And then, the only idea that becomes clear to him: he has to get out.

Get out of Hawkins.

Because if Eddie was thinking something like that all along, who else has been thinking the same thing? Dustin? Max? Robin?

He goes to work. Submits a letter of resignation. Gives the courtesy of two more weeks. And then...

He packs all that he thinks he needs in a couple bags: a backpack and a duffel bag. He sells his car, the only money he now has to his name, plus whatever his last Family Video paycheck is. Steve gets on the closest bus, one that'll take him to a shuttle, and he takes a train out of Indiana.

Goes west. Goes to a shitty neighborhood in Sacramento, as far as he can get. He got the transfer request sent over to a Family Video here, he'll start there soon. He stays in a hotel for a couple nights, a couple nights before he finds a last minute lease for a shitty apartment.

And he just stays there. Stays in Sacramento.

He calls Robin's house once on a payphone, that way he can't be tracked. Robin's not home when he calls. He gives a message to her mom: "Tell Robin that I'm sorry. And...and that I love"—he'd sigh—"Yeah. Yeah, just tell her that I'm sorry, please. I did what I had to." He hangs up, doesn't give another way for him to be contacted and he moves on.

Some years pass. He hasn't been taking care of himself all that well, it's noticeable in how he looks. Scraggly facial hair, heavy eyes, lanky and skinny body, he's mowed down most of his hair. Just looks like an imposter in his own skin. He's working a different dead-end retail job—some supermarket, one that's owned by a corporation, he's one in thousands; somebody not cared for. His social life is nothing. He's weird around other people, weird in general; trauma that's been left unsolved, nightmares that keep him awake (so his neighbors now have a vendetta against him), stares too hard, doesn't like to talk anymore. He's hollow. A man who nobody knows, no connotations, no stupid hierarchies or nicknames attached to him. He's just Steve Harrington, some guy.

Yet, in the time he's been there, he takes up a few hobbies. Ones that work well with his secluded lifestyle. He picks up painting and photography. Things he never thought he'd be interested in. But...but he gets too bored, so he tries.

Finds out that he's good. Finds out that he's good enough for his own small studio space. For a small exhibit in the local art museum. And there, on the floor of his exhibit, idling between people who want to know more about the guy that keeps showing up in his paintings: brown eyes and pink mouth and smiles that are too big for his face; and the woman: a bob with bangs, crystal blue eyes, and a kindness that shows in her soft smiles; it's there that he sees an all too familiar face.

Eddie meets his eyes. Older, grown into his body, same brown eyes, same long curly hair. And there's a sheen of tears in his stare. A recognition he never thought he'd receive.

And there's silence. People passing them by.

Until, when the exhibit is empty except for them, Steve can only muster a simple, "Hey." And a smile, something thin that doesn't feel very real. Didn't want to be found, not yet. But in the paintings, he's been dreaming; he's been searching.

From the entryway of another exhibit, one that connects to Steve's, Robin appears. She's got that '90s pixie. And cherry stained lips. Grunge eyeshadow and an ill fitting, hole-riddled t-shirt that Steve slowly realizes is one he wore; those red Converse from Scoops, faded black Sharpie, but the only text that's still dark (as if it's been written over and over) is one he put there: "Dingus was here". She doesn't even speak. Only knows. Tripping over her own feet, dashing across the waxed floor, sliding across it with clumsy limbs. Crashing straight into Steve, hefting him up in her arms, squeezing him so tight he can't breathe.

When she places him back down on the ground, standing side by side with Eddie, the two of them simply staring at him in awe and relief, Eddie finally speaks for the two of them.

He fucking speaks. His voice is dripping with relief, yearning rich and honey-sweet in the vowels. Words full of love that's been stirring slow like a stew in his heart, thick and clogging.

"There you are, sweetheart. There you are."

[a-student-out-of-time]

An Important Reminder In Trying Times

Hey everyone, Mod Bubbles here.

I know that I've said over and over that I don't like talking about politics on here, but I really feel the need to say this:

This Is Not The End.

I understand things probably seem really bleak right now. A lot of people are going to be hurt by this, and the sheer amount of fearmongering and worst case scenarios are inescapable. But the country and the world are not going to change overnight. To be honest, it may not change very much at all in the next four years. I'm not a political scientist, so I can't tell you that for sure. There's a lot to be concerned about.

What I can tell you, as a student of history, is this: not only have we survived this once, we have survived this every time.

Think about it this way: every single tyrant, every single right-wing representative, every single emperor and colonial power, every corporate scumbag and power-hungry lunatic. No matter how many of them have ever come to power, held onto power, and tried to make themselves seem invincible, not a single one has ever held back humanity's progress and not a single one has proven to be invincible.

There were countries throughout history, especially in the 20th century, that fell under brutal dictatorships and saw countless lives lost. Did the people just give up and accept it? Fuck no they didn't. They fought back. Many of them lived to see democracy restored to their lands in their lifetimes, or fought to see it restored in their children's.

From Europe to Latin America, while many countries still have their issues, they endured and their people have survived. Their governments were not invincible, just as none ever have been.

Regardless of the outcome of this election, the world will go on. People will not just roll over and accept whatever horrible things happen, the fight will continue and we will do everything in our power to carry on as we always have. We'll carry on to achieve bigger and better things.

Let me also be clear: if you feel the need to cry, please cry. If you're afraid, don't pretend you're not. If you're angry, allow yourself to feel that anger. But if you're seriously contemplating giving up or hurting yourself, please don't.

You may hear all this news and ask yourself, "Bubbles, what's the point? What can I do about all this?" I've felt that way too, I have for a long time. I understand completely. It's scary and overwhelming, but I'll tell you exactly what you can do to fight against that: you can be kind.

Do you want to know where the most tangible change in the world begins? It's never at the top. It begins with people like us on a communal level, where we reach out to help others. Whether that means we help our neighbors, our friends, or any strangers we can.

Going out of your way to start fights, looking for someone to blame based on the flimsiest justifications, and just being cruel because you're angry, those aren't how you change anything. Those just add to the problem.

Here's just some ideas on what you can do instead:

Get away from the news, stop doomscrolling, mute doomers, and turn the TV and news apps off. This will get you out of a negative feedback loop that'll make you feel worse and more powerless, which is what they're designed to do in order to maximize traffic.

Remember to eat, sleep, brush your teeth, take a shower, take your meds, and do everything else you need to do to stay healthy.

If you or someone else really feel like leaving the country for your own safety is best, you can still work do so. But please don't convince yourself that if you can't, it's over.

Give back to people as much as you can. Show the people in your life who support you that you care, and that all that they do for you matters.

Donate to good causes you believe in.

Stand up to bullshit whenever you see it.

Do not give up on your dreams and ambitions. One bad leader does not mean your future automatically ends. Stop worrying about any potential apocalypse in the future, because you can do that even on the best days, and instead work toward a future that you CAN achieve.

There's this pervasive and very inaccurate idea that it's only the president who gets to enforce policies on the country. This ignores governors, the House of Representatives, Congress, mayors, and the countless other leaders involved. And it ignores you.

You do not have to spend the next 3 years and 364 days doing nothing but feeling miserable. In fact, that's the last thing you should do. Fear and despair are the weapons they wield, and they only have as much power as you allow them to have over you.

If your view of politics is that you just have to vote for the "right one" and then everything will be utopian, or that if people vote for the wrong one" then we're headed for a terrible dystopian nightmare, I have to tell you that that is incredibly reductionist and also very dumb. I can also tell you from personal experience that it's not them who make the real changes where it's needed.

A friend sent me a video that really opened my eyes on this situation: Adam Conover, the guy behind Adam Ruins Everything, said he's not worried about all this. Why? Because he and some friends were able, through their own power, to make real positive changes in their community. They were able to bring homelessness down in their district by over 38% through their own efforts.

And he's right that, as a silver lining to all this, it made more Americans than ever take a stand against all the horrible shit they were seeing and get involved with solutions.

Speaking from my own experiences as well, when Hurricane Helene devastated my area, it wasn't the politicians who came and repaired roads and power lines, it wasn't them who brought in food and supplies to everyone, and it wasn't them who worked tirelessly to save people still in need. It was everyone in our local communities.

The people at the top have never really cared about anything more than your money and your vote, but the people around you care more than you may believe they would. Hell, even strangers on the internet care more than you'd believe.

Now, even if you've made it this far, you may be wondering "What about when he starts outlawing and banning things?" To that, I say look at Prohibition and see how well that went. Politicians have only ever operated under the idea that banning something will make it go away, and it always does the exact opposite. And if you're still worried, you can get involved with organizations that fight to support these things being available and regulated.

But by now, you may also be wondering "What if I can't get involved? What if I'm too young or I don't have the money, or my parents won't let me?"

Then just be kind.

Stop looking for enemies to blame. Don't martyr yourself for some nebulous cause or the idea that your suffering increasing means the rest of the suffering in the world will go down. Don't torture yourself by telling yourself that you didn't do enough.

Show compassion, show support, show love and genuine care toward people who need it, including yourself.

"But there's so many shitty people in this country and the world, why should I-" Stop thinking that way. This isn't about them, this is about you and how you can make a difference. There will probably always be shitheads and power-hungry morons, but that does not negate the fact that you can choose to be different. You can choose to be kind.

Kindness is a sword that you have to learn how to wield. Wield it responsibly and use it to help others. No matter how small or insignificant it may be, YOU DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

I say all this as a 29-year-old who spent most of his life feeling scared and miserable about so many current events, convincing myself I'm useless and selfish because I was worried about so much and I hated myself for all of it. And I've decide I'm not going to do that anymore.

During the last right-wing era, I managed to help build a whole community out of my love for Danganronpa. I created friendships, relationships, and there are people alive right now because I chose to do so. Because I chose to use that community for kindness. I want to keep building from there by going into streaming and reaching out to more people.

I won't lie to you and say that I'm not scared, because I am. But I'm also not going to let fear change who I am. I want us all to be better to ourselves and others, because that is how you defeat hate. It starts with you.

And if you're still concerned, let me share with you a quote from The Great Dictator, a movie made in 1940, when World War II wasn't even at its height yet:

To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish…

Please take care of yourselves out there, everyone. We'll get through this, just as we always have.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

My McLuhan lecture on enshittification

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of the above.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thus tech workers themselves were the final bulwark against enshittification,

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

So what happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today's giants are not constrained by competition.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what about that fourth constraint: workers?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I get that this is all a little depressing

OK, really depressing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because she can't get anything done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been a minute.

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

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

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

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

Or that someone is making AI deepfake porn of you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Software doesn't eat the world, it enshittifies it

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

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

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

Well, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I think that's pretty important.

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

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

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

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[genericpuff]

This plot point annoyed me so much! I thought she was finally going to open up to Persephone about the reasons why she hated Hades so much, about what he did to her, but no! They just introduced a new yet unnecessary character to the story 🤦🏼‍♀️

What are your thoughts about it?

oh yeah it annoyed the piss out of me too and for one very big reason that is CHRONIC in LO:

It's a solution to a problem Demeter didn't have.

This happens to a lot of characters throughout the comic. They'll have some kind of plot-driven conflict or character-driven flaw, and then it will be solved by something else entirely that had nothing to do with their original problem or doesn't line up with the theme of their storytelling. Minthe had insecurity issues and a toxic relationship with Hades? Just give her a classroom full of children to babysit! Hades had infertility issues? That's fine, Persephone somehow fixes those issues because at the end of the comic they have babies and Hades has his happy ending so it's fine! Hera was in an unhappy relationship with Zeus and had trauma from her past as a victim of Kronos? No problem, just make her an all powerful fertility goddess! Persephone accidentally causes winter which kills possibly thousands of people? Gaia is here to save the day, and also she's the one who makes Persephone return to the Mortal Realm for a couple months with full visitation rights. Apollo is a serial rapist who's attempted murder on several occasions, even against his own father in an attempt to take the throne? Community service, that'll solve it.

Demeter is one of the biggest examples of Rachel's inability of writing an actual cohesive plotline. She writes like the only goal is to come up with new twists to keep people reading each week without ever considering what themes or questions she should be answering throughout. So when she does pose questions, the answers often wind up being severely disconnected because she can't be bothered to actually plan out a plotline with narrative structure, she just needs 'things' to happen. To put it bluntly and simply, she writes like how a 13 year old on Wattpad would write, no actual thinking about the material she's presenting, no consideration for the curtains and what color they are, just "make the things happen so that people will keep reading because that's what writing is!"

Demeter's problem wasn't her failing to understand Persephone. It was people failing to understand her when she had reasonable cause to both be wary of Persephone moving to Olympus as well as Hades and his intentions with her daughter. But because Rachel needs to have the perfect happy ending for her self-insert power fantasy couple, she resorts to gaslighting both Demeter as well as the audience by extension into believing that the solution to Demeter's character arc... is understanding Persephone more.

Like first of all, the moral "people just want to be understood" is way, WAY too "baby's first storyline" at this point in the story especially when we've tried to tackle much bigger topics like sexual assault, and when we know how complex Demeter's backstory is. There's no way she needs to be told by Hebe that people just want to be "understood". She absolutely knows this already, and has been fighting to be understood by her siblings and peers and family for centuries, but of course, everyone sees her as just "the contrarian".

But then the final solution is... the sudden appearance of Demophoon as her long-lost child, and Hades giving her the volcanoes. That's it. She doesn't get to actually become Queen of the Mortal Realm, she never really gets closure over the past 2000 years of abuse from everyone around her, Hades just - like with everyone - buys her affection and she gets a new baby to pour her attention into instead of Persephone and we're all just forced to go along with it for the sake of Rachel's fantasy.

Rachel can't write (￢_￢;)

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

hi if you don't mind could you write a one shot about baji x fem reader where he is in love with her and can't confess and his friends help him with it

YES OF COURSE!

You and Baji have been friends for a year now. You appreciated him as a friend so much, he was always cheering you up, walking you to home, hanging out with you, staying by your side through hardships, comforting you and keeping assholes away from you.

What you didn't know was that he had feelings for you. But how were you supposed to know when he wasn't even confessing yet?

So he decided to do so....

The problem is, he didn't know how.

So that's how he ended up in the cafe with Chifuyu, Mitsuya, Mikey, Draken and Nahoya.

"I'm sorry, what?!" Chifuyu stood up from his sit, looking at Baji with disbelief. "You love [name]?!?"

"Keep it quiet, will you?" Baji scolded the guy, who apologised and went back to his seat. Baji seriously didn't know if he was doing right thing by asking these guys for a advice. I mean, all of them are single who probably have never experienced romantic love and will end up unmarried, expect Draken who still has to confess.

"So, you're asking us for an advice?" Mitsuya asked.

"Obviously."

"Well..." silver haired boy thought about what kind of advice he could give his friend, while Nahoya was speaking.

"Oh wow, Baji has a crush? Who could have thought. Hm, well...You should kidnap her and take her to somewhere romantic place and confess there." Nahoya proudly spoke, as if he didn't just say something concerning.

"No kidnappings." Draken strictly informed Smiley. "that won't work and plus kidnapping's a crime."

"C'mon Draken, girls like romantic things like this."

Chifuyu gave him a dirty look. "Please don't ever fall in love.."

"what did you say?!"

Mikey yawned, resting his head on the table. "Just go to her house and confess."

"Easy for you to say." Baji grumbled before looking at Mitsuya and Draken with a hope that they would give normal advice.

"Maybe ask her out to the park?" Mitsuya suggested.

"Oh that's a good idea!" Chifuyu agreed. "Have some fun with her, buy something for her and confess."

"Yea-"

"That's too boring." Nahoya said. "Just kidnap her and tell her your feelings."

"No, don't kidnap her." Mitsuya said, ignoring Smiley. "Just ask to hang out with her-"

"And stare at her until she'll ask you if something's on her face." Mikey added

"No, don't stare at her. That'll creep her out." Draken added.

"Oh and after she'll ask you that, tell her she's most beautiful girl in the world."

"That's too corny." Nahoya felt offended by Baji's rejection, mumbling something under his breath.

"spend some time with her like you usually do. Then tell her that you have to say something important to her and confess-"

"And run away." Mikey interrupted.

"No, stay where you'll be." Mitsuya corrected. "Just tell her how you feel but give her time to give you her answer."

"then run away-" Mikey interrupted again

"No, don't run away."

"Tell her you wanna start relationship."

"That'll be too fast-"

"Ask her for her hand in marriage-" Nahoya got cut off by Chifuyu

"You're rushing things, Smiley!"

"I'm giving him advice-"

"She'll give you her answer when she's ready-" Mitsuya continued explaining to Baji while Draken tried to calm Chifuyu and Nahoya down.

"Or she won't. That means she hates you-" Smiley started again

"No, that means she thinks of him as a friend-" Said Draken, but got cut off again by Nahoya again.

"No, that means she's playing hard to get-"

"no?! She doesn't wanna see his face then-" Said Mikey

"That is NOT how it wo-"

"Yes it does!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Baji yelled, grabbing everyone's attention. "I TOLD YOU ALL TO GIVE ME ADVICE ON HOW TO CONFESS MY LOVE TO [NAME], NOT TO LISTEN TO YOUR BICKERINGS! IF YOU'RE GIVING ME ADVICE THEN DO IT PROPERLY!"

"Kidnap he-"

"I'M NOT KIDNAPPING HER!"

"Baji-san..." Chifuyu looked behind Baji, trying to get the boy loser his voice.

"DON'T YOU GET IT?!"

"Baji..." Mitsuya called him out as everyone just froze in their place.

"I want to make that time SPECIAL for HER. I want to confess to [name] properly and I want her to always remember that day because it will be special to me and I want it to be special for her too." Baji continued. "I love her so much. I have always loved her but I don't know how to say it. That's why I'm asking for a PROPER ADVICE!"

Baji looked at the guys, only to find them acting like they don't know him, fighting so hard not to laugh.

Mitsuya finally speak up. "Well...You just confessed.."

"what?" Baji looked at him with confusion before he heard the sound of familiar laughter he has loved so much and immediately turned around.

"[Name]?" He was honestly so shocked to see you. How much did you hear? Did you hear what he said? He got nervous but you just smiled at him.

"I love you too, Baji."

His eyes widen and he didn't have any time to process what you said as guys jumped on him, congratulating him.

____

Okey, this was genuinely SO BAD but I couldn't really think of anything else😭I hope you still liked it tho.

[jamespottersdaisy]

Red.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"I'd rather not see you at all."

"You'd miss me."

based on a request.

warnings: banter, probably fluff, my writing

8.1k

author's note: i dont know how i feel about this but enjoy. english is not my first language so beware <3

You stood on your feet, staring dead into the brown eyes before you. You weren't even aware of your frown, but you were sure you didn't look happy. His mocking eyes were eliciting you, sending waves of rage down your chest.

"How about you two sit together?" James asked, smiling with his eyes.

You reminded yourself that your anger wasn't aimed at James but rather at his tall and vexatious friend. Thus, instead of snapping at him, you sent him a mere warning glare.

"Or you can just fight. That'll work," James shrugged and turned around.

Your eyes averted back to Remus, who had slouched behind your desk–the same desk you had been sitting behind for years.

"That is my seat, Lupin."

He didn't budge at all, keeping on staring at you.

"I didn't see your name on it."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. This boy was going to be the end of you.

"Remus," you said, "I've sat there last year and the year before that, please go find yourself another desk."

"It's a new school year, though, is it not? Make a change."

He must be testing your patience, which was at its limit. The lesson was about to start and yet you were still on your feet.

You blamed Remus for that.

The desk he had been resting behind was yours. You didn't need to write your name on it, everyone knew it was yours. For six years of Transfiguration, you had been sitting there, listening or sometimes disturbing the class with James and Sirius. It had a nice view of the board and could hide you well if needed.

Thus, you had always sat behind Pads and Prongs while Remus sat…

Well, you didn't know where he sat, but it was definitely not next to you.

"Miss Y/L/N, sit down please."

You closed your eyes for a moment when you heard Professor McGonagall's stern tone. With a quick glance around, it was obvious that you were the only one standing. So after a sharp exhale, you sat down next to Remus.

"Wanker."

Remus let out a derisive hum.

This. This was what would drive you crazy. This was what would make you want to strangle the boy, burn the body and get away with murder. That mocking, jeering and pleased hum.

James and Sirius would always tease you for not getting along with one person that anyone could get along with. Always fighting and bantering with one person that anyone could have a proper conversation with.

The problem was that they weren't exactly wrong.

You always witnessed how Remus was kind and gentle with everyone, rendering it absolutely impossible to bicker with him. He would smile and nod, easing his way out of every dilemma. He wouldn't pick a fight, and certainly wouldn't provoke anyone.

Except you.

With you, he was acting like a moronic person. Or that's what you thought.

When you were little, he would pull your braids in the mornings, but would mumble a quick 'I liked your hair today' in the evenings.

When you were famished for breakfast, he would grab the last waffle before you could, leaving you frowning with an aching hunger, but then leave bars of chocolate on your books during class breaks.

When you would be studying with the Marauders and couldn't cast a spell, he would smirk and mock your ineptness but would seek you out before the exam and explain how to move your wrist better than any professor could.

He would never disrespect you, but wouldn't let you stay sane throughout the day, either.

Lost between his inconsistent behaviours, you would find yourself confused, overthinking every tiny interaction to fathom if he cared for you or not. You would often decide on the latter.

For the sake of the other boys, you would ignore his gall and cheekiness. Although you had moments of outbursts, which would eventually lead to a bigger fight, you had managed to keep the problem under control so far.

"Miss, Y/L/N?"

You jerked your head up, finding the source of your name. McGonagall was piercing through you with her icy eyes, almost judging you for not listening, without voicing anything.

"Yes, professor?"

"Answer the question."

What question?

She asked a question?

You parted your lips, shuffling useless facts or overlooked memories in your mind to stumble upon the right one.

You felt one second drew out to one minute, or maybe it was simply your anxiety. Embarrassment was making its way under your skin with every second- or minute?

You were starting to sweat as your body was on fire.

"Levicorpus," Remus whispered under his mouth.

Not wasting a second, you repeated the word, earning a nod from the Professor. She turned away, carrying on with the lesson.

"What was the question?" you asked the boy. He didn’t bother to look at you.

"Pay attention next time."

“James, it’s a terrible, horrible, and incredibly foolish idea.”

You were dawdling around in the yard, enjoying the weather while you could. With the chill breeze mingling around your hair, nothing could ruin your peace. That is until the Marauders entered the scene.

“Exactly. That’s why we should do it.”

Being friends with James and Sirius was hard, especially if you’re the only one with common sense. Who would believe making a firework explosion in the middle of the Great Hall would earn them a ball to celebrate Christmas?

James and Sirius.

“We need to call Dumbledore’s attention. Bring it right up to the headmaster, or it won’t work,” Sirius backed up his friend. You ignored Remus’s scoff-like laugh.

“Your worry is that if you bomb up the Great Hall in front of any other professor except Dumbledore you won’t get a ball?”

“See, now you’re getting it-”

“What makes you think you will get a ball?”

James stopped walking, put his hands on each side of his waist in disappointment, and frowned.

“Now, you’re just repeating Moony.”

You glanced at Remus, who was staring at you with blank and tired eyes. This boy really needed to sleep, but that was another day’s problem. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on his attire before returning to James; tawny jumper with black lines and ivory trousers under a pastel orange trench coat.

“Rare moment of your Moony using his common sense,” you shrugged. “You know you’ll get a huge detention, right?”

“What else is new?” James smirked. “Are you gonna help us?”

The prospect of a ball during Christmas did entertain you. Fancy dresses and music, all while carousing with your friends was something no teenager would reject. And you knew if things wouldn’t go as planned, Marauders wouldn’t acknowledge your involvement; that was an agreement between the four boys even Remus had honoured. So you agreed to help them.

They made you regret it a few moments later in the Gryffindor common room.

“I’m not working with Remus.” you shook your head intently, wearing a displeased expression.

“Oh come on! Why not?” James pleaded. “You two are the best at Charms! You just need to figure out how to charm the fireworks to act how we want them to. Pete will get them and hide them, while Pads and I will handle transforming them into letters.”

“Because last time we worked on something together, it blew right in our faces.” you point at Remus with your hand. “I got zero when I could’ve got the best point available.”

“Wasn’t the potion perfect? Professor gave you a zero because you wouldn’t stop bickering,” Peter said. “It was very distracting.”

You cringed at the memory. Your hard work had held no value only for a little (or not so little) quarrel with your partner. The only nice outcome was that they rarely partnered you two together anymore.

Remus was slouched on the couch, legs apart with one hand placed on his thigh, while the other held a book. He lowered his book to look at your discontented face.

“I’m not happy about it either, yet you don’t see me whinging.”

You winced at him in aversion.

“I’d rather not see you at all.”

“You’d miss me,” he tilted his head, wearing a feigned smile.

James clapped his hands to prevent another incoming tiff.

“Alright, you two will start your research when you see fit and keep us updated. Don’t drag it out until November though, it’s a bit of a complicated matter.”

By the time a month had passed, you had figured that irritation was like a bunch of thorns piercing through your skin thanks to Remus. You had also learned that you can murder someone by spoon, but why would anyone bother themselves with shoving the spoon down Remus’s throat?

Therefore, you had been sitting with Remus every week, halting yourself from stabbing him with your quill. He wasn’t helping you out at all.

“Stop hitting my arm,” you whisper-shouted once more. Was Remus Lupin thick-headed? He didn’t look like it, so he probably just enjoyed getting a reaction out of you.

“What is your arm’s business next to mine? Sit properly.”

“Remus, If you haven’t noticed, you’re tall–”

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment, shut up,” your head snapped in his direction, facing his smug grin. “You’re taking much more space than me.”

“Well, sorry for you.”

“You’re distracting me from my studies.”

“You’re doodling right now,” he pointed to the paper before you with his brows. “And miserably failing, if I may add.”

“No, you may not–”

“Is that supposed to be a rabbit?” he inclined his head an inch more to the paper. You smelled his shampoo from his hair, crisp and woodsy and; the brown locks were so close you wanted to run your hand through them to see if they were real.

“That’s clearly a cat.”

“Why does your cat have two paws?”

“She’s sitting!”

“You really suck at this,” he propped his head back, offering you a pitiful look.

“Oh, and you’re rocking?”

“Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Y/L/N,” you flinched at your name from McGonagall.

“But professor, Lupin–”

“One more distraction and I will make it twenty.”

You clenched your jaw shut and lowered your head, letting embarrassment swallow you whole as all Gryffindor students sent you scrutinising glares. Of course, you would be the unlucky one that would get picked by the professor, not Remus, who was provoking you in the first place.

So, until the end of the class, you kept your head low and zoned out with your doodles.

You drew a circle, but it was more like a sun in your mind. Or the moon. You didn’t remember.

You drew ears for the moon, and it seemed like two triangles stuck to a circle, but you didn’t mind that either.

You even took some notes of the lesson but then you scribbled something that’s supposed to be a lamp or a cactus on them, so they weren’t very readable in the end.

You only snapped out of it when the unusual noise rioted, signalling that the class was dismissed. You had spent an hour doing nothing; an amazing use of time.

Remus pushed a parchment on your art pieces, covering them. You didn’t see what was scrawled on the parchment as Remus’s hand had blocked the ink.

“I do rock,” he said before heading out of the classroom.

You stared after him as he disappeared behind the door. You thought he would be in the library as you lifted the parchment.

It was a sketch of you from the side.

You took the red velvet cookie in your hand, examining it for any trace of poison. They seemed perfectly fine, delicious even. What was troubling you was that they were a treat from James. Thus, there was no way you could get good-looking, appetising, tasty cookies without a headache.

“Have you two started your research?”

That was it. You had a headache.

Therefore, you deserved the cookies. You took three of them in your hand and threw yourself next to Sirius. You turned to lock eyes with Remus, all while nibbling on your sweet.

You noticed him looking at you and then your hands and then...your lips? You immediately pushed the thought deep into your mind, not indulging it even a second. No, he was probably staring at the cookie next to your lips.

Unconsciously, you put the sweet down and arched a brow at him.

“Not yet,” he said without breaking eye contact with you.

You heard James groan and used it as an excuse to avert your eyes, but you could still feel his brown gaze set your body aflame. You couldn’t quite figure out if it was his hatred or something else that you refused to voice that was burning through you. You didn’t dwell on it.

“You’re waiting for Christmas Eve to do it?”

“Prongs is right, Pick a time and do your homework, lads,” Sirius agreed. “Pete is done already.”

“It’s hard to mentally prepare yourself for Remus,” you said, mouth half full.

“Don’t talk your mouth full, it’s disgusting.”

“You haven’t seen yourself eating, have you?”

“Here we go again,” James complained. “Just go to the bloody library and find the spells, will ya?”

Remus stood up, and strode up next to you, towering over you. You stared at him like he was a crazy person, which he was in your opinion.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Now?”

“Yes, you have things to do?”

You didn’t have things to do. In fact, your only to-do list for today was eating red velvet cookies. That’s why you didn’t know why you were hesitant to go and be alone with Remus. You didn’t know why your heart started to pick a race, either.

“I’m…” You looked around, seeking an excuse that you knew didn’t exist. “Eating cookies?”

Remus grabbed the cookie jar. “You’ll eat them on our way to the library.”

All four boys were looking at you expectantly, so you hopped on your feet. You didn’t bother to take the jar from Remus.

“Don’t sulk, Y/N, it’s for the greater good!” You heard Sirius call after you.

You exited the common room, went down the stairs and hastened to the library. You didn’t look back for Remus; you knew he was there. You could feel his presence.

You didn’t question how he had managed to get the cookie jar in when you entered the library and he placed it on a table. You simply turned to the books, chasing their titles with your finger.

“What are we exactly looking for?”

“Something that will charm the fireworks to act how we want,” Remus mumbled, too focused on the book titles. You noticed him examining the shelves that you had passed because of your height. It both irritated and tingled you the way he effortlessly could reach the top shelves.

“And how do we want them to act?”

“Fly around in order, not the way they fly around usually.”

You hummed and didn’t engage in anything more. Taking a cookie from the jar, you started reading and digging into all sorts of books.

How to charm your brush to comb your hair?

Not the one you've been looking for but sounded nice, you should look it up some other time.

Charms to take revenge on the ones that wronged you.

Would Remus get suspicious if you picked that one? You should look that one up too, next time.

Charms for cheating in the exam.

Why did a school shelter a book like this?

Charms for celebrations.

You smiled, looking up at the red-covered book. If there was a celebration, then there certainly would be fireworks.

You stretched out your hand to take the book, but your fingers only brushed its spine.

You climbed on your tiptoes, trying again. This time you could feel the engraved title letters on the spine. But other than that, to no avail.

A heft and warmth, that didn’t belong to you, stroke your body. Your skin reacted faster than you did. You felt the surge of an unfamiliar heat and shivers under your skin, unable to fathom the hand on your hand.

You turned your head back, almost bumping it into Remus's chin. He wasn't looking at you, but you could see his clenched jaw and stiffened shoulders. The close proximity was suffocating, or maybe your breath had hitched. Either way, you held your breath.

Remus grabbed the red book, stepped back and started skimming it.

"You're starting,” he said.

It took you longer than usual to react to him.

"I found the book first," you said after recovering from the sudden and uncharacteristic surge of heat. You hoped your face wasn't flustered.

"Why didn't you take it first then?"

He was mocking your height difference, and it didn’t annoy you this time. It did, however, make you conscious of your heart’s rhythm.

"I was close. You interrupted me."

Remus looked up from the book, a teasing smile gleaming on his lips.

"The only thing you were close to was hitting your head on the shelf."

You frown, being absolutely free of his previous effect on you. You snatched the book out of his hand and sat behind the table. You didn't raise your head when Remus stood in front of you and over your head, with his arms placed on the table.

You focused on the ink, forgetting Remus’s suffocating presence. That’s why you didn’t want to be left alone with him.

After a few minutes and lines or pages, your eyes twinkled with mischief. Two pages of instruction on different ways of charming fireworks.

"Found it."

The easy part was done.

You let Remus take the book from you. He read the page with a wrinkle between his brows and nodded after finishing it.

“We’ll have to start practising it soon.”

“Have some pity, I exceeded my weekly tolerance of you, today,” you murmured. “I can’t spend any more time with you.”

“And what made you think that I enjoyed our time together?” Remus stepped a bit back and leaned into a shelf.

You parted your lips and then closed them again. Time had gone rather unproblematic with Remus today, and ended without a headache. It was almost...boring.

“You never even once did something to annoy me.”

His lips curved, eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Do you want me to annoy you?”

You hated the teasing in his tone. Something between confusion and disclosure hit you in the gut, goosebumps rose in your arm as a response to your fluttering heart.

“What? No, why would I–”

“Do you enjoy bickering with me, Y/N?”

“I don’t!"

“You sure? Sometimes it sounds like you’re picking fights with me on purpose.”

“You flatter yourself, Lupin,” you laughed, a bit awkwardly. He was smiling now, one step away from smirking. You noticed you rarely saw him smile this big around you. It was beautiful.

“Just like you said, I wasn’t the one annoying you today. You started it.”

You felt the temperature rise in your body, embracing you without your consent. You didn’t appreciate the way he threw the accusations at you or the way his eyes wrinkled adorably when he beamed.

“You’re not the only one hating the other.”

Your lips uttered the words but you didn’t hear yourself. You were too busy to stare at his changing expressions. His smile ebbed a little, but not enough to wipe the soft wrinkles around his eyes. He walked up to you, excruciatingly slow, looming over you. You watched his eyes rambling between your eyes, and even travelling to your lips, too. Your eyes, however, stayed only on the brown orbs, sorting out every layer, every colour, every blemish one by one.

“I don’t hate you,” you heard him drawl.

Before you could take in what he murmured, his face changed into something else. You fathomed it from the twitch in his jaw and his faltering blinks.

“You’re just annoying,” he said as if recovering his tone.

He stepped back, eyes lingering on your lips for one more second before turning away. You bit down your lips as you watched him exit the library.

“I brought candles,” you announced, tossing the candles to the wooden floor. They made an uncomfortably loud thud on the ground, causing you to grimace in displeasure.

“Yes, please make sure to break all of them. Don’t leave one unharmed,” you rolled your eyes at Remus’s cynical voice in the other corner of the Requirement Room.

You two have been visiting there to learn the charm of the fireworks every week. For two weeks, you had been working with the sticks and had mastered them. Thus, it was time to finally alter the sticks with candles, something that resembled a firework according to Sirius. They didn’t want to work on fireworks, it would be a waste for James.

“They’re fine. Don’t be dramatic,” you said to him as he walked up to you, glancing at the candles on the floor.

You felt him squat down, grabbing a white candle. He showed you a crack on it that wasn’t there before.

“It was there before.”

“Yeah, sure,” he grinned. “What’s with the colours?”

You shrugged. Why choose only white candles when you could have red and yellow and purple and pink also?

“Don’t mind the colours. Let’s start.”

Remus lit a candle as you took out your wand. He placed it on a chair, and stepped back, waiting for you to cast the spell.

When you first muttered the incantation, nothing happened.

You tried again, this time more fiercely both in your spelling and movements.

Nothing happened, The candle was sitting on the chair, mocking you with its flame. You were sure Remus was also repeating the same internally.

“You’re too hesitant to bend your wrist,” he said.

You didn’t hear any teasing in his voice but still cringed in embarrassment.

“You won’t put out the candle if you bend your wrist a bit hard, Y/N. Stop hesitating,” he said again.

You tried once more, despite the sweat forming on your temple from anxiety.

With sticks, it was easy. Say the spell, bend the wrist and aim the wand.

With candles, you were afraid you would mess it up somehow; maybe put out the fire or even start a bigger fire. It was a fire, after all, it was dangerous.

When you failed again, Remus made his way to you, standing only a step away behind you.

You felt his breath behind your neck as he closed that one step, laying his body onto yours. You didn’t manage to ask him what he was doing, you didn’t need to. Your heart dropped when he put his hand on yours, lifting it in the air. He aimed it towards the candle, but you were too out of it to apprehend.

Your whole body was focused on his skin on yours, savouring his touch on you without your permission. Suddenly, you didn’t think the sweat was from anxiety. You didn’t think your heartbeats were from embarrassment. You didn’t think your whole body was aflame because you were conscious of your ineptness.

You knew what it was. You knew what it was that set fires in the core of your chest, grasped the air from your lungs, and took the strength in your muscles away.

But you didn’t acknowledge it.

You let Remus move your arm, copying the instructions. You let him brush your hand with his fingers. You let him show you how to bend your wrist all while his hand on yours. You let him whisper the incantation in your ear.

You felt the void around your fingers when he withdrew his hand and his body from yours.

“Go on,” he said, so low you wouldn’t hear him if you weren’t holding your breath.

You aimed the wand, bent your wrist, and cast the spell.

The candle rose to the air, attracting a few candles to itself and lighting them up.

“Attagirl. My turn."

You said nothing as you stepped away, letting Remus place himself in front of the chair. You lighted another candle for him and put it on the chair.

You watched him take a stance and aim his wand. You didn’t know if it was because of his stance or his long legs or arms, but he looked…handsome.

He looked handsome with his serious expression; wrinkled brows, clenched jaw, stiff shoulders and narrowed eyes.

Heck, he looked handsome with his smiling expression too; curled-up pink lips, brown locks decorating his forehead, chestnut eyes glistening as his smile.

You cursed yourself at your admission.

He cast the spell, succeeding with the first attempt. The side of his lip inched up with pride for a tiny second.

You did it. You were ready for the plan. The only thing left was James and Sirius’s work.

He turned his eyes to yours.

“We did it.”

“Yes,” you nodded and got to collect the candles.

Remus frowned, visibly uncomfortable at something.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What?”

You refused to glance at him. You didn’t want to admit anything else just because his ridiculous gorgeousness affected you.

“Something’s wrong. You’re acting weird.”

“How am I acting weird? I’m just cleaning up the mess so we can go and eat.”

“Yeah, but,” he started helping you out by gathering the unused candles, “You’re a bit–”

“I didn’t know you cared about me,” you snapped your head in his direction.

He stopped whatever he was doing. You saw him swallow.

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

You almost threw your candles at him.

“I’m going to dinner.”

You didn’t wait for him. As you exited the room, you reminded yourself that he thought of you as annoying.

“Stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking!” You wiped your palms on your cloak, counting to ten to calm your nervousness.

“Yeah, sure, that’s why your breath is unsteady.”

“Why are you even focused on my breath?”

You frowned when Remus didn’t reply.

It was a big day. In the end, you'll either end up dreaming about your ball dress or worrying about the detention.

James and Sirius were in the Great Hall, hidden under the Invisibility Cloak. They were waiting for your charmed fireworks as you and Remus were waiting for Peter to bring them behind the gate.

Everyone was busy eating their dinner, like a casual evening. Chatters and clatters were mingling in the air, serving you an opportunity for secrecy.

Remus was standing next to you–a bit close, as your arms were glued together. His eyes were on the corner where James and Sirius were, as your eyes should be looking for Peter.

Except that you weren't looking for Peter.

No matter how much you wanted to prevent it, your eyes were drawn to Remus.

For the last fifteen days, it had been this way. You would look for Remus in every corner, and your heart would chirp like a bird when you would find him. You would start agitating him so maybe he would react, and wouldn’t back down when he would annoy you first.

Even now, you couldn’t help but steal secret peeks at him. Sharp jawline and unblemished face despite the scars were completed with downy hair and hazel eyes.

He was stunning and you were attracted to him. Your five-years-ago self would roll her eyes at you if she was to see you. You were attracted to him despite his annoyance with you, and your pride hated you for that.

You were sure if Remus knew your newly emerging feeling for him, he would mock you to the point you cried.

You turned your head away from Remus when you heard heavy step voices. Peter was bringing a box full of fireworks, trying to be as discreet as possible in the meantime. You stepped up and helped him. He nodded at you before entering the Great Hall like a starved boy whose only intention was to have dinner.

You pulled Remus’s sleeve and he turned to you. You heard him mumble ‘right’ under his breath before taking out his wand. You repeated the same, waiting for him to sort out the fireworks.

“We’ll do it at the same time, remember. Or James won’t be able to Accio all of them at once.”

You nodded, aiming your wand all while alerting your senses to Remus’s voice. Between all the noise from the Great Hall, he had to raise his tone from whispers.

“One. Two. Three.”

Both of you cast the spell. You made sure to bend your wrist this time. Two of the fireworks lit up and attracted other fireworks to themselves. Remus sent James the signal.

Seconds passed, but the fireworks weren’t Accio’d anywhere.

You waited a bit more, glancing at Remus to see him do the same with a frown.

Another few seconds passed.

Nothing.

It was getting dangerous. You couldn’t be near them. They were about to blow up.

You squirmed close to the wall, adrenalin filling up your veins and piercing your heart. Remus was sending the signal over and over again but to no avail.

You wanted to run but your legs were glued to the ground, not even managing to help your standing let alone running. You winced as the firework got close to blowing by a second.

One more second and it was going to explode right in your faces.

One.

You felt Remus’s body on yours, pushing you hard to the wall, almost squeezing you with his torso. His arms held your sides as you leaned into him, clenching your eyes shut.

You waited for the big hit.

But it never came.

Remus raised his head from yours, checking around.

Fireworks weren’t there.

Just when you moved to get away from Remus’s hold, blaring cracks emerged in the air. You let out a scream, thinking it came from near you. Remus squeezed your arms, snapping his head to you.

“Bloody hell, Y/N, my ears just bled.”

You looked around frantically, still standing between Remus and the wall. Your eyes averted back to Remus when you saw the real firework art was going on in the Great Hall. The fireworks were forming letters.

Chatters had turned into cheers, screams of excitement and joy echoing in your ears. You felt the colours of the fireworks on the walls, halls, your clothes and Remus’s body.

Remus’s body, which was too close to yours.

“Sorry,” you uttered, gazing into the depth of his brown.

“You alright?” he asked low, not letting you out of his grasp.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded. “You?”

“I’m alright.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he drawled, repeating to you.

His hands around your biceps were now burning up your skin. He was supposed to let you go now. Let you go and put a distance between your bodies.

Your heart cried at the thought of space. You begged and hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t loosen his grip.

You started counting seconds. He didn’t let go.

His stare at you darkened, breathing getting heavier by the second.

Your eyes lowered to his lips. They looked both soft and chapped. He parted his lips.

You looked back into his eyes. They were piercing through you, welcoming thoughts in your head that you so desperately shunned. You felt his touch on your skin tighten.

You yearned for his touch not only on your arm but every inch of your body.

You reminded yourself that he was annoyed by you.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t inhale. You didn’t exhale.

You put your hands on his face and crashed your lips onto his.

The butterflies inside you resonated with the fireworks inside the Great Hall. Your heart quivered at the feeling of his lips on yours. Your chest flamed up in lust, your body smiled when you felt Remus’s hands wander to your back.

He kissed you back, welcoming the passion to run free in your veins.

You arched your back just to have him closer. You felt his slips stretch into a smirk, his fingers digging into your skin.

You kissed him harder.

His heavy breaths mingled with yours, hovering over your face. Your whole body shivered under his silky lips, sheltering the heat of your chest under his touch. His hands covered every inch of your body, learning it by heart. The heft of your lust drowned under the intensity of his manoeuvres.

Your heads were up in the clouds, unaware of anything going down around you.

You forgot where you were. You forgot what you were doing. You forgot why you were doing what you were doing. The dark in your eyes leaked shadows in your mind, blackening every thought.

That is until three boys intervened.

You pushed Remus away, putting the distance you so despised between you two. You pushed your lips together in an attempt to hide their red and swollen state. You ignored the cry of your lips, body, heart and soul for Remus’s caress.

“WE DID IT! WE’RE GOING TO CELEBRATE CHRISTMAS WITH A BALL!”

You grinned at James and let the boys have their celebration. You didn’t cast a glance at Remus. You didn’t see him not taking his eyes off of yours for even a second.

It was Friday. The last Transfiguration class before the well-deserved ball.

You were seated behind your desk, definitely not waiting for Remus.

You two hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Hell, you hadn’t even talked to each other properly.

You might be ignoring him a little bit.

You were leaving the room when he was entering, going to sleep when he was approaching you, and being busy when he was trying to talk to you.

You might be ignoring him not so little bit.

Your leg was bouncing up and down, and you were fighting with your urge to not check the door every ten seconds. You hadn't quite figured out how you were feeling, but you knew it was something intense that your hands were freezing not because of the winter but because of the nervousness.

The same nervousness that made your mouth run dry when you saw Remus enter the classroom. The same nervousness that made you breathe quicker and feel dizzy when you felt Remus sit down next to you. The same nervousness that turned yanked the colours out of your face when you heard him talk.

“Will you run again if I open my mouth?”

“You just did,” you say, trying to sound as casual as you could. You weren’t facing him just the way he wasn’t facing you.

“And you didn’t run.”

“I didn’t.”

“Good,” he nodded. “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“No?”

His head snapped at you, forcing you to turn to him as well.

“Don’t mock me, Y/N,” he warned, irritated.

“I’m not mocking you, Remus. I’m just–”

“What did I do wrong?” he cut you off. “Tell me.”

Your heart skipped a bit at his question, clenching around a pain that you wished to ignore.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t understand,” he frowned. “ You kissed me. So, I’m guessing you wanted it.”

You didn’t reply, too busy reliving the whimsical moment that had been keeping you awake at night, attacking your heart with butterflies.

“You did want it, right?”

“Yes,” you snapped back to the moment. “Yes, I did.”

“Then tell me what I did wrong and maybe I can rectify it,” he said. “Tell me what I did that you’re ignoring me.”

You didn’t know what to tell him.

You couldn’t tell him that you were running from him because you were too embarrassed to look him in the eye and admit that you were attracted to him. You couldn’t tell him that you were still figuring out what you were feeling, too afraid to get your heart broken.

You couldn’t tell him that despite your fears and doubts, you were still yearning for the sound of his laugh and craving the touch of his skin on your skin. You couldn’t tell him that there wasn't a moment in which your mind could offer you any other thought than him.

So you told him the first thing that came to your mind.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Remus looked appalled, eyebrows furrowing.

“What?”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Yes.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“We both know it wasn’t a mistake. Stop lying to yourself.”

“I-I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to–”

“I’m not asking you to marry me.”

“I know!” you said, losing your temper for a second. “I know, Remus. I’m just not sure about...well, everything.”

You watched him inhale deeply, contemplating something in his mind. You wished to know what was going on in his head but didn’t ask.

“We can, uh,” he started, “We can try to be friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, until we figure out whatever this is.”

You stared into his eyes, they weren’t pleased. Like they were keeping something back. You didn’t know how to ask him that, so you didn’t

“Friends,” you repeated as if testing the word. “I guess it can work.”

Remus nodded and stretched out his hand to you. You stared at his hand for a moment, recalling the way they caressed your skin a few days ago. You ached for that feeling.

“Anytime before I graduate would be nice,” he said.

You muttered a quick ‘sorry’ before shaking his hand.

Geoffrey Fawley had asked you to be his date for the ball.

He was a nice boy from what you had heard from James. He was in the Quidditch team with James and was a good chaser. Of course, you hadn’t mentioned either James or Sirius about your date. You wanted them to be surprised so you could mock them later on.

You hadn’t mentioned Remus about it, either. Why should you? Right?

It was only two days since you had agreed to be friends and in those two days you barely even talked, mainly because you were too busy choosing a dress for the ball.

To your delight, you had found the perfect one.

Checking your attire with one last glance, you turned your heels and walked out of the dorm room straight to the hall.

Geoffrey was waiting for you with a smile; he was an undeniably charming boy, you had to admit. Blonde hair sparkling above the green eyes with a graceful frame, he could steal any girl's heart.

Except that yours was already stolen by a pair of brown eyes.

You pushed Remus's visage deep in your mind, refusing to revive your disappointment when he didn't ask you out to the ball as his date.

You let Geoffrey take your hand and curtly lead you from the door to the ball.

"You look absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you," you smiled.

As you two occupied yourself with small talk, you didn’t notice James and Sirius making their way to you. You had learned that Geoffrey has two elder sisters, he doesn’t like chocolate and he unsurprisingly loves Quidditch. He was kind, sensible, and a great listener.

He was everything and nothing you ever wanted. He wasn’t Remus.

“Fawley! Y/N is your date?!” James called, smiling from ear to ear as he approached you.

“Yes, Potter. Apparently, she deemed me worthy of standing by her side tonight,” Geoffrey joked back, smiling at you gently.

“Ah, yes, fancy words,” Sirius dropped his arm around your shoulders. “Have you kissed yet? Her lipstick looks intact.”

“Sirius!” you hit him in the torso.

“I’ll take this as a no and head out to Remus,” Sirius said, “He’s been a moody bitch these days.”

“Where’s he?” you asked, forcing your tone to the casual.

James turned back, pointing at someone with his hand.

“There. The one with the sour face and brown hair.”

He had leaned against a wall, looking around with a frown. He was captivating in a black suit, his hair falling into all the right places and creating an art-like view. You enjoyed the view a few moments more, memorising every little detail about his figure. You wished he could be a bit closer to you.

“He doesn’t look like he enjoys himself. Should we invite him?” Geoffrey asked.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. He looks comfortable–”

“Nonsense, Y/N,” Sirius cut in. “Oi! Moony! Come here!”

You squeezed your lips together as Remus reached you. He was without a date.

Would it be malicious if you felt relieved by that?

“You guys have fun. Lily is waiting for me,” James said before leaving you four together.

“He is with Lily?” you asked Sirius, both surprised and happy.

“Geoffrey must have really swept you off your feet,” Remus drawled, staring into your eyes.

You felt uncomfortable. Not because of Remus’s words but because of Geoffrey’s presence. You smiled at Remus awkwardly, knowing you had Geoffrey’s eyes on you.

“You don’t have a date, Remus?”

“No,” he said to you. You felt cold at his tone.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find someone here.”

“I don’t want to find someone.”

You felt Geoffrey grab your hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

You smiled and nodded at him, letting him carry you to the dance floor.

He put his hand on your waist as you placed your hand on his shoulder. He intertwined your other hands together and started moving with the rhythm.

You glanced at his eyes only for a moment before dragging them to every corner of the room. They landed on Remus.

His eyes cut through your chest like a dagger, reminding you of every feeling your skin, heart and soul had felt two days ago.

You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus touching you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus smiling at you. You hated that you felt nothing if it wasn’t Remus’s words that were whispered in your ear.

“You seem distracted.”

“Oh,” you locked eyes with Geoffrey again, smiling. “Forgive me.”

“It’s Lupin, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have been acting weird since he stopped by.”

Your smile ebbed as guilt prickled inside of your chest. Geoffrey chuckled at your fortified expression.

“It’s alright, you know. I knew you had no feelings for me when I asked you. I just didn’t think you may have feelings for another.”

You lowered your head to his chest. There was no point in denying it.

“I’m so sorry Geoffrey, truly. I didn’t mean to disrespect you–”

“You haven’t”

“Or offend you.”

“You haven’t either,” he shook his head in a warm smile.

“I shouldn’t have said yes,” you mumbled before looking up at him.

“I’m glad that you did. I wouldn’t be able to move on if I didn’t hear you reject me.”

You admired his genuinity, and his pleasant smile and his gentle manner.

You adored his kindness and good heart. He was the kind of boy that would never annoy you, bicker with you or hurt your feelings.

But he wasn’t the kind of a boy that would make your heart race in excitement, passion and desire.

He wasn’t Remus.

When the dance ended, you couldn’t find Remus.

“Go,” Geoffrey said, “I’ll be alright. It’s obvious that you two need to talk.”

You thanked him before placing a short peck on the cheek. Then, you dashed to Sirius, who was too busy getting drunk.

“Padfoot, where’s Remus?” you yelled, attempting to drown the music.

“Where’s who?”

“Remus! Where’s Remus?!”

“I’m here,” you startled at his voice behind you.

You parted your lips to speak to him but he acted faster.

“Come with me,” he said, holding your hand and dragging you away from the people.

He led you to another room and closed the door after him.

“A bit quiet.”

You nodded, feeling the blood in your veins rush. It had only been a second since you were alone with him and your feelings were already messed up.

An awkward silence filled the room.

“Remus, I don’t want to–”

“You didn’t tell me you–”

You sighed, hoping that he would talk first. And he did.

“You didn’t tell me you had a date.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I didn’t know I had to.”

“I thought we were…friends,” his teasing tone daunted your nerves. You forgot what you were searching Remus for.

“We’re not that close friends.”

“You seemed pretty close with Geoffrey.”

Pride clawed at your insides, taking an internal scream from you. It didn’t hurt, you felt powerful.

“Jealous much?” you managed to hide the smirk but you didn’t hide the smug tone. You saw Remus clench his jaw and clear his throat before talking.

“What if I am?”

“Then I’d ask you the reason,” you said. Your smug tone changed into something different, something desirous.

“Don’t tire yourself, love. I’m not jealous.”

“Nice,” you smiled, stepping forward. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I returned to my date.”

Remus filled the void between you and the door with his body, not letting you go through. You peeked at his lips momentarily.

“We’re not done talking.”

You hoped you could cover your jitters with cheekiness because your heart was racing, your mouth was dry and your hands were trembling with anticipation. You didn’t even want to mention the surges of fire and flood inside you exhausting each other.

“Oh, isn’t this new? You finally want to talk to me after years of vexation.”

“That’s what friends do, right?” he shrugged.

The way that ‘friend’ word agitated you was ridiculous.

“I’m all ears,” you told him, still not backing away from him, holding onto the distance that could easily be conquered with one step.

You were finally close enough to him to easily feel him under your touch. You could see the beauty marks, freckles and scars vividly. You wouldn’t even need to get closer to caress them. You only needed to raise your hand and–

“I fancy you.”

Your eyes shot up from his lips to his eyes, widening in bemusement. You chose not to let your ears deceive you, not to let the words plant hope in you, not to let butterflies escape their cage.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he frowned. “I’ve been fancying you since you were a little girl and I was a little boy.”

“You hated me when you were a little boy and I was a little girl.”

You shook your head. He did the same.

“No, I didn’t. Annoying you was the only way to get you to talk to me, so I clung to it for years.”

You felt the heft weighing you down drag you onto the surface, letting you finally breathe. You felt the fireworks inside you, or maybe that was just butterflies. Your heart chirped in its cage, ready for you to set it free.

“I fancy you, too.”

You set your heart free from its cage. You let him fly away, welcoming the warmth that the boy before you had to offer.

Remus straightened and closed the distance between you two.

“You do?”

“Yes,” you whispered. “I do.”

You closed your eyes, giving into the night when you felt Remus’s hand on your cheek. You drew a breath in when you felt his other hand on your waist. You parted your lips when you felt his hot breath on your lips.

Anticipation climbed its way from your stomach all the way to your heart, shaking your breath. One more inch closer and you would die in his lips, one more second later and you would break down under his touch, one more breath in and you would crumble into pieces by his kiss.

“Would you like to see how I ruin a friendship in a second?”

“Yes,” you pleaded.

He closed the one last inch, spent the one last second and inhaled the one last breath.

He kissed your lips.

You died in his lips, broke down under his touch and crumbled into pieces by his kiss.

His lips, so soft and silky, intoxicated your mind. His touch, so gentle yet so firm, ignited your skin. His skin under your hands, so warm and flawless, blazed your fingertips.

You melted under him, ready to die in his arms.

He kissed your lips until they were red and swollen. He kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy. He touched you until he sent shivers down your spine.

When you pulled away, his eyes dark and in trance were still on your lips, his lips placing pecks on all over your face.

You smiled into his lips, letting him embrace you.

“James owes Sirius ten sickles.”

“What?” you laughed, taking in his scent.

“Two years ago they had a bet on us,” he said, and you loved the way ‘us’ echoed between his lips. “Sirius said sooner or later we would get together."

“We just made Sirius ten sickles richer.”

I love that I can write Remus both as a kind, gentle, sweet boy and as a mysterious, complicated but hot boy. It just makes sense in both ways.

Anyways, if you've read this far, thank you so much for your time. And thank you to the person that sent the request.

Please let me know what you think!

and if you loved this fic or my writing, buy me a coffee <33

[elaemae]

What did Og!Cale sacrifice?

Genuine question...

Hear me out;

I'm reading the latest chapter of 'In an Instant' by Messy_haired_bum and something just clicked in my head.

See, I know that the Og!Cale is a fan favorite, something that I didn't really understand because we don't know a whole lot about the guy, but there's just something that's been stopping me from getting enamored with him via various fanfictions I've read even though they've made the Og!Cale very lovable, and I didn't really know what it was, for a long time, until now.

There are various posts circulating around saying that Og!Cale sacrificed himself greatly with the deal he made with the GoD, and at a time, I believed that. But... reading this chapter opened my eyes and made me think, what did Og!Cale sacrificed?

What did he sacrifice that he didn't already lose?

A lot of ppl say that Og!Cale lost everything to be KRS but the only thing he had left was his identity. That's... not a lot to be honest. Not enough, actually.

Now, I can hear y'all thinking "Current!Cale got his wealth, backing, and a family–", but so did Current!KRS.

Current!KRS also didn't need to deal with a world war involving a megalomaniac, entire enemy nations, and a literal divine being.

Og!Cale was a foot soldier for 40 years, most likely didn't help a lot against Arm and The White Star, and he died without any (known) great feats but he's given such an amazing opportunity to take over the body of someone that'll need to deal with all those problems? An opportunity of rebirth that even Lee Soo Hyuk wasn't given until he gave one up of his abilities to help seal a deity?

He knows he couldn't shoulder the burden of saving the world so he just... washed his hands off that responsibility... And then occupied the body of a high-ranking well-known individual to then go off and get a happy ending with his reincarnated mom.

As the excerpt above said, it's a win-win for him, he doesn't get soul-crushing responsibilities, he gets a high-ranking position that grants him power, he can deal with the learning curve due to being given Og!KRS's abilities and having an actual reliable guide, and he gets to be back with his mom.

And...

... If Current!Cale ever fails?

He can just shrug and say it's not his problem anymore.

He's got his new happy life now. (I'm not saying he will, I'm just saying he could, if he was a lesser man)

Current!Cale lost everything he had too, all the fruits of his labors, the results of him dealing with all sorts of issues and problems for years, just... taken away by a stranger in his body. You can say KRS!Cale wasn't really happy, that Og!Cale didn't know if the body he'll end up in would be okay, that he gambled with his life in taking over Og!KRS's life.

Life that... he was about to lose anyways.

It just wasn't fair...

If we ignore the fact the KRS!Cale is literally thriving and just look subjectively at the situation of the body switch, KRS!Cale got the short end of the bloody, hellish, rotting stick.

I can only get closure if I personally find out if Og!Cale ever gave a fuck about the uninvolved, innocent guy that he sent to deal with a 20 year war, and not in the 'Is he doing the saving he's supposed to?' typa way, I want to find out if he ever feels guilty of the responsibility that he gave the man, if he ever worries for KRS!Cale's personal safety and mental health, for putting an innocent man through war. An innocent man that couldn't just stand by, as the world he found himself in, burns around him.

I don't want to dislike the current KRS, I want to love him actually, but this is my current perspective on the matter and you guys are free to share yours so that I can broaden my mindset about Og!Cale (pls do, I wanna like the guy but I wanna know if he's a good guy first, I wanna know why ppl love him so I can love him as well)

[awellboiledicicle]

I wanna throw out a reccomendation for @shopwitchvamp's skirts and joggers.

For those of you who don't know, i'm fat. I have problems finding cloths that both fit and are cute. Them lasting against the gauntlet of my thighs rubbing together is a wholly separate concern that comes about 50 feet before the concern of if pockets exist in the thing. Somewhere in there is "and how long until the elastic cracks out and i'm screwed?" And that's not covering the sensory issues of if the fabric is ok or it'll feel like satan is rubbing his pubes on my skin every time i move.

I know well that i'm not the only big person to have these issues. I would wager it's common enough that several people are nodding along and waiting to see me go "and these clothes cover some of these issues".

HOWEVER

I would like to say that they cover ALL these issues very well!

First off: I first purchased a skirt from this store and generally assumed it'd be too small. Because even when things say they fit a certain size, i get skeptical. It not only fit over my belly comfortably-- the elastic not cutting in and sitting smoothly--but i could pull it up and the band would rest easily around my chest so I could wear the maxi skirt as a dress! It also has pockets that can fit my wallet, phone, keys, and nintendo switch. Granted, if you distribute them lopsided, it'll pull that way, but it is only a mortal garment. It's not a miracle worker. That said, i've had it for a year + and not only has the smooth texture not changed, but the elastic hasn't lost tension. It's been well worth the money.

Second off: the joggers. I purchased a pair of joggers with stars and moons and clouds. I believe it was one of the jester's patterns, but i could be wrong. Point is, i had yet another spike in trepidation because skirts? easier to not be a problem. And yet, the joggers not only fit very well, but stretch with little issue. The only problems i've ever run into was whenever i'd eaten/drank a lot and then did a lot of bending. Then the waistband would press in, but that's a folly of pants as a garment. The elastic continues to hold up, both on the waist and the ankles. They're breathable enough to wear during summer, but insulated enough that they're rapidly taking the place of the ol standard "jeans until you need layers". The pockets are also well sized, though not as spacious as the skirts. This is literally the only serious mark against them and that's on me trying to shove a switch in my pants pocket and kneel down to pet a cat.

THIRD: i ordered a jesters privilege tank top and the literal only downside i have with it is i overestimated the idea that it'd shrink with washing. Upside is that it makes my chest look GREAT when i wear it to see my partners. Does wonders as a sleep shirt. And if i tuck it in or wear a jacket over it, it does great at work too. There is less to talk about here, expressly because there are no pockets to review.

I will also shout out their quick customer service-- i once sent an ask about the drawstring in the joggers turning so the end of the string was inside the pants and i couldn't get it out. Within a few hours they responded with a solution to a problem that literally most people let alone companies wouldn't bother with.

"But Mok" you might say, dear assumed reader. "What's the catch? Do they cost an arm and a leg? Do they cost a soul? One pure and untarnished soul from a small child?"

They do not. That said, as someone with a lower income Witchvamp clothes are certainly a "save up for when what you want drops and then treat yourself" deal. They're worth the cost, though. I'd say it's well worth getting a couple pairs of joggers and a skirt for like $150 ONCE in a while, that will LAST and FIT and look nice, than continually dropping $20 on clothes that'll wear out in a season or less.

Also sometimes you get a free rock with your order.

Go forth.

[olderthannetfic]

Ok, LONG story and a rant. ESL

I have a "friend" who recently got on the topic of disabled children, including severely disabled, mentally and physically children, and how people having an abortion just because of it are bad people. She's not pro-life, but her opinion is if you want a child you need to "accept what you get." She has even spoken about how she'd never even consider an abortion if she had a disabled child, and that she'd be a great mom. Blah blah blah.

Starting off, we went to school in the same class until high school. Her entire life she was terrified of people with disabilities, especially developmental. One time in 8-9th grade she started scream crying because our teacher's son with down syndrome had to join class for 2 hours because of the teacher's schedule. In 3rd grade she thought needing glasses was infectious and always ran away from the two kids in class with glasses.She's had some of the weirdest reactions to people with autism, ADHD, and similar diagnosis.

Yet she's here proclaiming how good of a mother she'd be to a disabled child, as a key argument why people screening for disabilities are bad.

Here's my position, as someone who started studying in a field focusing on working with disabled people in all stages of ability and disability, her sentiment is incredibly stupid to me. If you know the fetus will become an incredibly disabled child, it's not a kindness to have it, you're not mother Mary for giving birth to a child that'll never be able to live independently in this world. I've experienced some of the most unpleasant sides of this, and I don't mean helping clean people after the toilet, or showering. I've been inappropriately groped, touched, and kissed by more people than I can count. Some of them understand it's wrong when I tell them a firm no, some get huffy and angry, some get violent. That's just the surface problems I've dealth with. It's difficult, and painful, and to me it's just a job I can step away from at the end of the day, especially since I'll be able to find work in other medical fields when I've completed my studies.

Yes these are people who deserve all the kindness in the world. But I won't lie, the quality of life for someone who's only way of communicating is crying and hitting people is not a kind life. They don't get to live lives where they can just go on vacation, and see new places on their own. They can't start a normal job. They can't start a family. Half the people I work with haven't seen their relatives in years, or are only visited for an hour or two every week. They see people having relationships and having relations in movies, and with their caretakers of family, but they can never have that. Most of the ones who've tried to touch me, or claimed I'm their wife, or girlfriend did it because that's what they see but don't understand what it actually means. I've dealt with disabled people who were victims of extreme abuse not just from family and strangers, but also people in my work field, who're traumatized but don't have the ability to work through properly because it's already difficult for them to just getting through their days. They have their happy moments, but most of all of this happens in an incredibly small social circle, with strict routines, where only other disabled people exist, and they don't even get the chance to be part of "normal" society. We workers are literally trained to "deal" with these people, sure we're also there for socializing, but most of us are also literally just a resource, we're not a friend, or a family member, we're workers.

Some of the places I've been at are more like a 24/7 kindergarten, with a huge lack of funding and manpower. You won't believe how many times we've struggles trying to help people during extreme and violent meltdowns, all because we're understaffed. The job also lacks male workers, which means it's harder to help with any male patients who voice feeling uncomfortable being helped by women. Do you know how incredibly painful it is to see the shame on someone's face who's more abled to voice this discomfort, but still not able to care for himself and needs help with, to us, basic things such as putting on clothes, or taking showers?

People like this "friend" annoy me, because they idealize the idea of having a heavily developmentally disabled child. They see people with more "mild" cases, or self-sufficient disabled people, but ignore everyone living in cramped disabled "communes" or under poverty and high levels of abuse.

--

Children, animals, causes: a lot of people romanticize the idea of taking on more than you can handle. It's not romantic. It's just irresponsible.

[cripplecharacters]

I'm writing a character with intellectual disability and I can't find much about how the different skill areas affected will be affected based on the level of ID. He has mild ID, IQ measured to be between 60-69, but I was wondering if I made his symptoms too severe and if what he has would actually be moderate. Are these realistic for someone with mild ID, or would these indicate more severe ID?

He started copying sounds at around the same age most babies do, maybe a month or so late, but didn't really understand what they meant until he was around four, when he made the connection that certain sounds had certain meanings. He picked up language decently after that, a bit slower than most but he did eventually hit language milestones, just a few years late

He's not good at problem solving. If he's seen a similar problem get solved he can usually replicate the solution, but if he's never seen this problem or the solution to it he'll struggle to come up with a solution that works. If the solution he's seen work in the past isn't possible, that's also something that'll throw him through a loop. Like if he drops and breaks a plate and he knows the solution to this situation in the past, get his dad and then go find the broom and dustpan so his dad can clean it up, isn't possible because his dad isn't home, it'll take him a little bit before he can adapt that solution to "I need to get the broom and dustpan to clean this up." He can get there, it just takes him a minute.

He was very late to reading and basic math, picking up reading at writing at around seven, addition and subtraction a little bit after, and multiplication, division, and fractions at around ten. Once he gets it he can start growing the skill, it just took him a while to get it.

Planning ahead is also something he struggles to do well. He can come up with unrealistic plans easily, but coming up with an actual plan on how to spend a day out is hard for him and when he does have that plan, any deviance from the plan really stresses him out because now he needs a whole new plan.

He's good at abstract thinking, but there are some things he can't understand. He gets that ableism is a thing, that people see him and think less of him for being disabled (outside of the ID, he is visibly disabled,) but he can't for the life of him figure out why people are taking their observations and using them to be cruel.

His ability to learn from experience is good, it's one of the easiest ways for him to learn things and it's the way his parents taught him some things. He can also learn from the experiences of others- if his dad cuts his hand on a knife while cooking and is thus injured, he can understand from that that knives can hurt and that if they hurt his dad, they'll hurt him, so he shouldn't mess with them without being very careful.

He is also very bad at picking up on body language and facial expressions.

Because he was homeschooled (the elementary and middle school didn't have a good special education system,) a lot of this was kind of brushed off as "Oh, it's because he was homeschooled" when he did start going to school as a teenager. His teachers knew, of course, but the people he befriended didn't really notice, brushing off the things they noticed him struggling with as being products of him being homeschooled. So he's not extremely obviously intellectually disabled to the untrained eye, but teachers and people who know other people with ID can usually pick up on it.

I feel like all of this might be a bit too severe for mild ID, but I also worry that if I change it so he has moderate ID I'll be underplaying what moderate ID is. Sorry for the long ask.

Hi!

A lot of the traits remind me less of myself (mild end of mild) and more of some of my ex classmates (moderate). Some of the points are more universal (understanding of body language can be really hard or really easy depending on the cause of the ID, e.g. intellectually disabled people with autism will usually have a hard time regardless of ID level) but most to me read as "more disabled than me" so either he's on the severe end of mild, or just moderate. The only one that reads pretty strictly as mild is the last one, if someone only has ID with no comorbidity then often others can't tell for a while or brush it off as something else (I'm autistic and people sometimes guess autism, sometimes ID, sometimes things I don't have). I feel like if he experiences all the other points, other people would probably be able to notice rather quickly, if not as "obviously ID" then they would notice that he's developmentally disabled in some way (though, from interacting with moderately ID people in SPED, pretty much everyone could tell, especially abled people).

Other than his classmates not being able to tell, this sounds like a pretty good representation of someone with moderate intellectual disability. I wouldn't hang on what exact number or exact severity he was diagnosed with, just saying "intellectually disabled" is good. ID is a spectrum and it doesn't have hard edges (IQ measurement is deeply flawed), sometimes it can be hard to tell where someone exactly lies on it. There's not that much difference between me, very close to the "normal range", and someone else, very close to the "ID range". I just wouldn't say that your character has mild since it does sound like it's probably in the moderate range rather than in the mild or Ambiguous one, but focusing on the exact label isn't that important in my opinion.

If you want him to have mild ID because he has a condition that causes ID that is specifically mild and not more severe, then I think it would be easier to change the condition than the character. Many of these traits seem thought-out and impact the character a lot, so changing them could be almost like rewriting the entire character.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[hannie-dul-set]

who in enhypen would agree to platonically kiss you.

because i feel like i have to do this for every group i write, so expect me to word vomit a tubatu version soon after this one.

seventeen ver. / 127 ver. / dream ver.

heeseung: honestly you thought he'd agree without a second thought, but a smirk suddenly plays on his lips and he pulls out the "what if i don't want to? what are you gonna do?" and you'd rather die than have him bask in your mortification, so you turn around. run away. try to run away, but the bitch suddenly pulls you into his lap and oh. you can feel his breath on your lips. his grip is firm on your waist. you're actually about to fucking kiss him BUT— "ah. sorry. i changed my mind." | rating: 0/10 but maybe if u change ur tune from platonic to romantic, then he'd agree.

jay: "can i think about it first?" jay isn't one to jump into hasty decisions, especially one that can permanently change the trajectory of your ten year long friendship for better or for worse just so you can make some hairless bitch jealous. he thinks about it. he's thinking. he's thinking very hard about it, until one day he finally says okay "okay" "? okay what?" "let's make out" "??? jay i asked u that favor five months ago what do u—" | rating: 5/10 delayed but u got him?? to kiss u??? but??? now u have a new problem because park jongseong, what are we?

jake: he knows you kissed him at the party last night to get ur cheating ex off ur ass. he knows that and he was totally, 100% completely fine with it. he can totally pretend like nothing happened. absolutely. just doing a friend a favor. a buddy. a pal. a good 'ol mate. that is until exactly one month passes by and he suddenly says "oh damn haha happy kissmonthsary babe u have any more exes to drive away hahaha just asking haha." | rating: 8/10 you're sure a kissmonthsary doesn't exist, but how can u deny him when he's twiddling his fingers like a schoolgirl with a first crush.

sunghoon: flustered flustered flustered "i'm sorry? haha i mean ofc u want to kiss me who wouldn't hahhahaha anw ur joking right—" you aren't. sunghoon starts sweating and he's nervous and about to piss himself because if he says no, you're gonna think he's a LOSER (you already know he's a loser) a big fucking LOSER (sunghoon, you are a loser). | rating: 3/10 on the first try because the moment your lips touched he turned into stone. he may be a loser but he's a prideful loser so expect his score to increase with each try at his insistence.

sunoo: "hey sunoo, i need ur help. can i ki—" cue his aggressive side eye. cue the absolute look of disgust on his face at the mere insinuation that you want to kiss him without strings attached. how dare you. | rating: 1/10 because you did get to kiss him in the end. you did. but before that you had to ask permission from his parents (heeseung and jake), you had to meet his actual parents, you had to exchange vows at the altar, and— wait this isn't exactly platonic anymore isn't it?

jungwon: jokes on u jungwon orchestrated the whole thing that'll lead you to asking him. he gave you a lipstick as birthday present and he's like "sorry haha i'm not sure if it's a good one the saleslady said it doesn't smudge but idk." there it goes. seed planted. all that's left is for you to ask him if he....wants to help u test it out.....yanno.....as friends. and before you know it the red tint is now smudged between your lips and his, smiling victoriously into your mouth because yes. his plan worked. | rating: 10/10 because you suddenly have a dozen new lip products and "hey. should we test if these also smudge or not?"

ni-ki: "oh sure. go ahead." he agrees to it SO easily that you suspicious, eyes narrowed, but you set it aside for now and lean closer to his face but WOOSH. he's swerved away. "riki stay still, what are u—" WHOOSH. he's five steps away. you see the look on his face. the shit eating grin saying, if you wanna kiss me, come and get it and oh it's on, nishimura. | rating: 2/10 because you end up chasing him all over the parking lot and jake asked if he can join your game of tag.

[polarisblitzwing]

WELCOME TO THE FRI3NDSFOR3VER AU

Ford's World - Dimension Fri3nds46/’

◇ Alternative Earth Variant ◇

● Humans have wings and feathered tails

● Alternative Pines family decisions timeline

◇ Stanford Pines ◇

● Ford is a minor god of dreams and a self-proclaimed god of anomalies

● 30 years old here (Young Immortal)

● Met Bill when he was 5 due to him attempting an interdimensional dreamwalk link, with Bill trying the same thing by chance, something that wouldn't work at their age without each other

◇ Gods Among Them ◇

● Most gods were mortals whose power was drawn to them like a magnet due to their personality in some way

● Fairly secretive and prefer to hide their works

● Rely on their believers to notice their efforts, resulting in an increase in power

● Can reveal themselves to the public, but building up power from faith alone is more sustainable for less powerful gods

● Stop aging between 25 and 100 (depending on what age someone wants to live forever)

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Bill's World - For3verEuclydia

◇ Alternative Euclydia Variant ◇

● 360 years is the average lifespan of a Euclydian in this au

● No massacre

◇ Bill Cipher ◇

● Bill is a minor god of dreams and a self-proclaimed god of weirdness

● 30 years old here (Young Immortal)

● Met Ford and Stan when he was 5

◇ Gods Among Them ◇

● Only gods have wings and tails as a power symbol

● Their wings and tails are invisible to anyone that doesn't believe in them specifically

● “Omnipotent” Euclydian gods only know everything about their own world. Bill's knowledge of the third dimension is seen as false teachings to even them.

◇ Bill’s Family ◇

● Scalene is a goddess of Truth and Euclid is a god of Reality

● No one believes Bill is a god except his parents, as godhood is a power grant at birth to someone who the power is drawn to here. It can skip generations.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

NOW, ON TO THE ACTUAL DIALOGUE FOR THIS DRAWING! FANFIC TIME ~

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Bill: So here's my problem - I need to show them the stars. It gets real flat to hear “you're delusional, Bill” and “stop talking about a third dimension!” “Shh, you're gonna get arrested!” “It's not real!” Over and over again. It's time to change up the law and their perspectives.

Ford: Hmm.. that'll be quite the endeavor. You might need more power for that.

Bill: Ohh-ho-oh, definitely. Some of my ideas get real difficult along the way. The kind of stuff only a god with twice my power could pull off. 

[ Pulls up a holographic board with his first idea. ] 

Bill: If I could turn their eyes towards the stars and give them the same vision as I do, that'd be ideal. 

[ Ford manifests a danger sign over Bill's board; a buzzer sounds in warning. ]

Ford: Doing that to the entirety of Euclydia could potentially be devastating. Even if you get that newfound power, without centuries of diligent practice, you could end up permanently mutilating thousands of people in the process. Too risky. 

Bill: Uuugh… even if the people I wanted to show the most were immortal too, I don't think I could put up with more of their talk for that long. It has to be this century.

Ford: I get where you're coming from. I’ll do my best to make sure it happens when we figure out a plan that won’t have too many risks involved.

Bill: I could probably have the world dream of stars if you help, but that isn’t real enough to me. It drives me crazy that I can’t see you in real life. 

Ford: We’ll meet one day, I promise it. 

Bill: I sure hope so, Sixer. 

[ Pulls up two more holographic charts. ] 

Now.. back to my list of extremely great ideas.. what if I put really tiny stars in the world and contained the heat? Or flipped the world on the y-axis just to prove a third dimension exists first?

[ Ford manifests two more warnings in succession. ]

Ford: Could easily start a fire if anything went wrong, and for all we know, flipping the world vertically could cause everything to fall bottom to top infinitely until it’s fixed. Also runs the risk of killing a lot of Euclydians. Not to mention there could be other forces in your space that could affect the world.

Bill: Yeesh. Alright then, you got any ideas?

Ford: Actually, come to think of it.. 

[ Ford summons a hologram with a vision of his own forming. ]

Maybe instead of dreams, we tried something just a step up from multi-dimensional dream-walking, something like astral projection. We bring them out of their bodies, but tethered to their world, into space. Without the limitations of their physical forms, their eyes should be able to see more than what they could before.

Bill: SIXER, YOU'RE A GENIUS!!!

Ford: Hah, well, I try.  

Bill: NOW THAT'S SOMETHING I COULD ACTUALLY PULL OFF RISK FREE! It might take splitting up the days people get to see it, but, they’ll finally see.

Ford: Well, hold on, splitting up the days could be risky for the groups who see versus who don’t on the first day, so, here's what I'll do. I'll give you my powers for as long as you need them for this. I would like to help personally, but I’d need to physically be there. This will be my contribution to your paradigm shift for Euclydia.

Bill: ..you really trust me that much? 

Ford: (smiles and nods) Of course. You're my best friend, my muse, the sun in my galaxy, Bill. I want you to be happy.

[ Ford offers his hand and godly powers out to his partner. ]

Bill: (chuckles, smiling) You’re the best, Fordsy.

[ They shake on it. ]

[your-next-daydream]

Alright I've been thinking...most likely to be cam boys in Obey Me? (Edited by @lanawinterscigarettes)

My top three are:

Asmo

Levi

Mammon

I mean it makes the most sense right?

(First time posting my erotica fics, let me know how I did! Might be more coming out depending on the feedback.)

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Asmo is very actively online and has several fans, we know this. Over the years he just thought it might be fun to try stripping down naked for his fans and giving them a show. After he started getting more popular for it and even receiving gifts, money, and even promotions he started having more fun with it. Eventually Lucifer got word of it and asked him forced him to shut it down. But from time to time you'll be able to find old videos resurfacing of him in pretty lingerie, bathrobes, or skirts. Him stroking himself while staring into the camera, the pretty moans he lets out for his adoring fans, or even him getting off to himself in the mirror. But he saves his true self for who he really decides to get it on with.

Meaning you get to see more than what he does for the cameras, more than just the sounds he restricts himself to, and more than he'd ever allow the public to see. For with the person he trusts with himself wholeheartedly with is the one who he is unashamedly himself with. He'll send you videos of himself getting off from time to time. Sometimes, he'll even ask if you'll film videos with him or take pictures. He still does his online videos from time to time, but he's gotten smart about it. He can be found on a website that you have to pay to enter instead of just posting them out there like he used to do.

He straight up just told you after a while and gave you access to his videos/photos himself. He wanted you to "have something to look at when you're in your bed late at night all frustrated, though you could just come see me instead~"

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Now, for Levi, you wouldn't think he'd have the confidence, would you? He partakes in the ones where it's just from his neck down. His channel grew quickly, a lot more quick than he was expecting. But a lot of demons, people, and maybe even angels love the appeal of a faceless cam boy. One who whimpers so softly and sweetly, one who reacts so lewdly to the praises in the comments, and the one who loves to be called a filthy pervert. He won't admit it but he does enjoy being degraded and he is a bit of an exhibitionist he's just shy about it.

Once he got with you he wasn't sure what to do actually. Fans started wondering why his content wasn't coming in as quick as it once did, he soon starting doing it more after that. It's a guilty pleasure of his, being in one of his most vulnerable states as he sees the views and comments pushing him on. He gets off to how many people see his stuff but aren't aware of the fact it's him.

The way you find out is him probably accidentally leaving a browser of his site open on his computer. Later you'll bring it up to him and he'll look away all embarrassed and blushing that you saw his content.

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Mammon will do nearly anything for the right price. Want him to dress up a certain way? Better pay up. Want him bent over or to show off a toy he's using better? You know what button to hit. He's a simple demon when it comes to this business. And hell if he isn't good at the content he puts out. Whatever brings in the big bucks right? He's already a model so him growing his channel won't be a problem at all. Until Lucifer catches wind of it, and just like Asmo that gets shut down fast. But what does he do? Blocks Lucifer and thinks that'll solve the problem once and for all.

Whenever he gets in a bind money wise he's already setting up the camera and slowly taking his clothes off for his viewers. The longer the stream goes on the more money he gets. Which means he will try to edge himself at first but he just ends up overstimulating himself. No one is complaining though with those noises he's letting out as he mainly forgets his embarrassment.

The way you find out for him is probably stumbling across it yourself since it isn't on a private platform. You make an official account that has a username he'd recognize and you donate a hefty amount as far as you can afford. After the stream when he looks at the people who donated the most, so he can see about charging for private videos, and he sees your user. The entire house hears his loud embarrassed shriek.