#their communication skills suck so hard

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Based on this. I know I'm supposed to be working on my WIP but this just wouldn't leave me alone.

They met in Heaven. Steve was barely even old enough to be there, wide-eyed and in awe, like every baby gay that walked into the most prominent gay bar in England.

Eddie remembered the feeling well, it had only been a few years since he'd stood there for the first time himself but from his spot on the dance floor he could see the vultures circling. And just like looking like a tourist in the middle of Trafalgar Square, it's easy to end up in a bad situation if you're on your own and don't have a good poker face.

Eddie’s first time he'd been with Chrissy, his childhood best friend and given his mum insisted she move in with them after her dad had gone berserk when he'd caught her snogging Jessie, he supposed that also made her his sister. That's just how she was, his mum, just so full of love and kindness and generosity and for someone who'd been through all she had, it always amazed Eddie. His dad was AWOL, never even spoke to Uncle Wayne, they suspected he was in prison given the amount of time he'd been gone. Not that Eddie cared, his mum was his hero, hardworking, endlessly compassionate, staunch and all in all just out-of-this-world.

And between his mum and Wayne and Scott, Eddie and Chrissy had all the parents they were ever going to need. His uncles only lived two doors down, so the five of them ate dinner together most days, they were an amazing support for all of them, had been throughout Eddie's life. He knew how incredibly lucky he was to have them, hell he knew just how blessed he was just to have a family that accepted him. But the three of them loved so unconditionally, they made amazing role models, not just to him and Chrissy but to Scott's students too, the couple just wanted kids to grow up in a different world to the one they grew up in. 

So Eddie couldn't in all good conscious just stand there and let this little baby bird get swallowed up. He didn't even wait for the song to end, completely forgetting his dance partner Jack or James or whatever, he just dashed over all overly friendly, "Hey! Where've you been? We thought you weren't coming!" He was shouting absurdly loud but it did the trick, prying eyes slinking back into the shadows. 

Steve was initially confused but Eddie used the excuse of a friendly hug to tell him he was attracting all the wrong kinds of attention. In fact, Eddie's pretty sure he told him he was "far too pretty to stand in the middle of a gay bar gawping like a newbie" but it didn't matter, Steve had just been grateful to be rescued. 

He'd only just arrived in London, he didn't even know anyone in the city but he just couldn't sleep until he'd at least tried being in the club, Eddie didn't need to be a mind reader to see Steve had found whatever he was looking for. 

Eddie knew how important it was to have a community, especially for someone new to not only the city but to themselves (he'd always had Chrissy, she'd been by his side through all of it, just as he'd done for her, he wouldn't be him without her) so he'd taken Steve to meet Chrissy and Gareth and Jeff. 

They'd all hit it off immediately, Steve was a sweet little angel with a razorsharp tongue, what wasn't to like! The five of them were fast friends who spent every spare minute hanging out together, quickly becoming a group of six when Steve rescued Robin after she'd walked into Heaven doing the very same thing Steve had. And those two were insane, it was like they'd been separated at birth, Eddie was surprised to find out they didn't share actual brain cells.  

And god they were all just so close! They barely left each other's sight those first few years, they got jobs together, flats together, had dinner parties and sleepovers, went for coffee and on shopping sprees, Steve and Chrissy even went jogging together in the park when they weren’t too hungover from a night on the lash, they were settled in their domestic little London life. Looking back, the years spent in their tiny shitty flat was when Eddie was happiest, just the six of them, skint and hungover but full of life and completely content.

The girls were the first to fall in love, Eddie was unsurprised, he knew full well it'd been love at first sight for Chrissy, and from Steve's drunken ramblings (which was the only time he'd spill Robin's secrets) Eddie was pretty sure the same could be said for Robin. Jeff and Gare had been fuckbuddies for years but they finally got together after Jeff's particularly nasty breakup with Danny. Jesus H Christ! Gare had hated him! Basically from the moment he'd met the guy, it was speculation amongst the others as to whether it was a problem with Dan or a problem with someone else shagging Jeff. Things came to an explosive end when Dan cheated on Jeff, in the club bathroom of all places! Gare was about ready to take Dan outside, probably would've if Steve hadn't got involved until Jeff calmed him down enough to convince Gare to take him home instead. 

Eddie had fallen so gradually for Steve he hadn't really even noticed it was happening until they were in Heaven one night and the light caught Steve just at the right angle as he was dancing and the realisation just plonked itself down in Eddie's head and heart, like oh! Oh fuck, I'm in love with him. Not that Eddie ever told him that, of course, Steve had come back to Eddie sweaty and panting and Eddie for the first time in his life, he'd been completely speechless. Then Steve had kissed him playfully on the cheek as an excuse to steal his wallet and all Eddie could do was laugh as he disappeared into the crowd to buy another round.

And it was all going amazing until, just as Eddie was bucking up the courage to tell Steve that he was kinda sorta maybe in love with him, everyone's career started to take off.

A random audition landed Steve a place in a boyband, where godforbid anyone is openly queer, the girls started a tour, and a summer anthem flung him, Jeff and Gare into the stratosphere overnight. And it was fine, love confessions could wait, they had time, Steve's contract was only for two years and who knew how long their popularity would last, they could be a one-hit wonder for all he knew. So those first few years, the six of them just focused on the music and making sure not to party too hard. They all really thought they’d done it, they’d made it big and they were happy, but it didn't take long for the cracks to start showing and then quick as a flash everything started to crumble. 

Both he and Steve ended up solo acts, the boyband eventually running out of steam and his band ending when Jeff and Gareth imploded somewhere over the North Atlantic.

Not that it took long until they were back to being the best of mates though, with that much history you either part ways for life or you wiggle through the awkward stage and be the best friends you've always been. That's how Jeff described it anyway and given they both eventually met other people, and Gare's godfather to Jeff's little one (who's two going on eighty, Robin keeps calling them an old soul, he's never quite sure whether she means it literally or figuratively) Eddie's inclined to believe him.

Chrissy and Robin were the only two who actually managed to stay together, both musically and romantically; they're set to get married soon, he's happy for them, he is! And he's excited to walk Chris down the aisle, doesn't mean he also can't be a little jealous.

Because he and Steve, they're still acting like teenagers! Sneaking around, texting constantly, seeing each other whenever they can get five minutes on the same continent, and as much as Eddie still feels blissed out from their whole week together on an equatorial island in the middle of nowhere, being a teenager is only fun for so long.

Musically, it's going great! It is! He's producing bigger and better than ever, which'll happen when you're completely free of creative restrictions, and it's great, but sometimes there's such a thing as too much freedom and no-one's there to rein him in or talk some sense into him when he needs it.

Steve's also enjoying his solo career, he's bigger than ever, freer, his fans adore him, the general populous prefer his music now it's just him and none of them are surprised by how huge he's become, it's rare that someone so beautiful is also an absolute fucking gem as well as a creative genius.

So it's all going great! And Eddie looks forward to every second he gets to spend in Steve's arms, whether it's hours or days hauled up in a hotel room together (or on the luckier times, at home together). Because honestly there's no place he's happier than with his Sweetheart but he knows they can't have anything more, they can only ever have hidden moments and undeclared feelings, and it's kinda starting to feel like it's killing him because every time either of them leave, Eddie's leaving a little bit more of his heart with Steve.

And he isn't sure there's much left to give.

But the group are all still best mates, so he can't talk to any of them about it, can't talk to his manager because she's practically married to the guy who just also happens to be Steve's manager, can't talk to his therapist because they just come out with dumb comments like "why don't you just tell him how you feel?", can't even call home about it because they just want him to get down on one knee and propose and he can't tell anyone outside his immediate circle about how he's feeling because what if it gets out?

So he just does what he always has, he channels all these feelings into a cover of a song he hasn't been able to stop listening to since he first heard it because it's speaking to him and this is the only way to make it stop.

And when he steps off stage after its debut and he's met with nothing but a whole twenty-four hours of radio silence, it starts to make him nervous, then it makes him jittery and then it just makes him sad.

So he's alone in his hotel room, like he often is these days. The only thing he had planned for the evening was waiting for the videos to start pouring in from Steve's concert because his fans are wild in the very best way. And he can't blame them; he often feels the same way when he sees Steve perform and something about seeing the videos settles something in his feral goblin brain. 

He's just laying in bed, channel flipping, eating Doritos and generally feeling sorry for himself when Nancy (his manager) calls, tells him to get dressed now! Chrissy has tickets for a thing, which should've been a massive tip off because one, why wouldn't Chris just call herself? And two, why is Nancy, Queen of planning every last detail down to the milliseconds, being so damn vague? But the silence has him all off kilter so he just does as he's told on autopilot.

He's dressed and in a limo and outside the stadium Steve has sold out before he even has time to register what's happening. And the whole group are there and they all have VIP tickets and yet they've barely said two words to him.

Eddie wants to ask what the fuck is going on but he daren't, he's a strong believer in not asking questions you don't want the answers to and he feels like he really won't want the answer whether it's a good or bad one so he just follows quietly while they chat about the terrible two's and trying to deal with stroppy wedding planners.

Eventually, they get situated and then the concert starts and for the first few minutes, Eddie stays shell-shocked in his seat but Steve's voice wraps around him like silk, like it always does, and before he knows it they're all on their feet, dancing and singing along, having a whale of a time, it almost feels like everything's back to normal but then there's a costume change.

Steve comes out in his full Danny Zuko outfit that he'd worn that very first Halloween all those years ago, and of course he still looks as good now as he had then. Dare Eddie say he might even look a little better now that he's grown into all of his features, now he's a little more muscular and he's got the swagger of a man comfortable with himself and the way he looks. 

Everyone's going mental, his fans, the group, Jeff recognises the outfit first and starts ragging on Eddie, with full mimicry and big eyes "but Jeff didn't you see him, he's just so sexy!" making Eddie sound like the chick from Aqua. They'd all been hammered that night, Eddie's surprised he even remembers, can't deny it though, Steve had looked sexy, still does. Eddie'd take Steve over John Travolta any day of the week, but honestly he's kinda glad for the teasing, that's just Jeff's way of showing love and a bit of normality feels nice.

Especially because as he watches Steve strutting around the stage, chatting with fans and waiting for the screaming to die down, Eddie finds he's actually trembling. Then Steve speaks, settling thousands of people by just putting the microphone against his lips, like he's got them all under a spell and god it's so alluring Eddie's starting to feel a little hot under the collar. 

And then his words float across the stadium, "A special song, for the very special someone in my life. There seems to have been some miscommunication between us, so I'm hoping this'll make things clearer," he tells the crowd, turning his attention to the VIP seating, searching for him until their eyes meet, smiling the smile Steve only ever seems to have for him and Eddie just melts.

He recognises the song immediately, of course he does, he knows it inside and out, knows it in his very bones because they've watched this movie together a thousand times, in a thousand cities, howling along or turning the characters into muppets or impersonating other celebrities because what if so and so had played…? because when they're together they can just be themselves, they can laugh and be silly like they used to when they were younger but to Eddie it never matters how he's singing, Steve always sounds beautiful even when he's purposefully trying to sound terrible.

But right now he's just Steve singing a song to Eddie, for Eddie, completely from the heart, in front of thousands of people, in front of the whole world and Eddie can't breathe.

Because how stupid could he be? How could he have got it so wrong? His Steve, his beloved Stevie, his Sweetheart. The years they've spent together! And yeah, in the beginning, they'd both been with other people, but it never lasted because really for both of them, it's only ever been the other one, probably from that very first moment, so eventually they just stopped trying, stopped involving other people and were just them whenever they could find the time to be together. 

And yeah they never actually discussed being together and that clearly wasn't the smartest thing to do because that seems to be what's tripped them up because in private they're a couple in every way that matters. He's Steve's, it's just a fact of life. He thought Steve knew that!

Their family know that! They don't even have separate families, for god's sake, they might all have different surnames but whoever calls it's always "And how's Steve?" or "How's our boy?" like he's an extension of Eddie, like they're EddieandSteve. Even some of their fans have cottoned on, creating their own little subgroup, with cutesy names and "evidence" of the length and depth of their relationship.

It's only by the grace of god and Nancy and Jon's (Steve's manager) careful planning and scheming that means they've made it this long without the press finding out, he and Steve rolling around in bed laughing, the night after they've walked down a red carpet together, even having the audacity to hold hands sometimes and just howling at how clueless the tabloids are, because they've only ever been seen as bachelors, bros supporting one another and as Robin has pointed out on many occasion, it's ridiculous that so few people have spotted the ridiculously besotted, gooey eyes Eddie always has for Steve.

So they know they're not single but somehow they've both got their wires crossed because he somehow thought he was someone to keep Steve's bed warm and Steve has given him his heart and assumes Eddie doesn't want him! And how after all this time have they managed to get it so wrong?

The song ends and Eddie just flops into his seat and sits in wonderment, not really hearing and only seeing the tunnel vision of Steve doing his thing, just trying desperately to understand how he missed the signs that Steve loves him and how the hell he's going to untangle the mess he's made. 

But before he knows it the concert ends and he's no closer to an answer and he's so far up in his head Eddie doesn't remember much else, just flashes of moments. Chris' encouraging smile, Robin's curled lip, Gare's arm around him, being backstage, his phone vibrating in his pocket, knocking on the dressing room door.

Then it's all Steve, his tentative smile, the shine in his eyes, his hair still wet from the shower dripping onto his t-shirt making glistening trails down his neck. His damp collar, his arms around Eddie, the sandalwood of his products, peppermint toothpaste and that underlying something that's just Steve.

Quiet, hesitant greetings in the silence, Eddie just opening his mouth and letting it all out, everything he's been holding in for so long, apologies and admissions and declarations, finally ready for the chips to just fall where they may, and he knows he's rambling, can tell by the endeared look on Steve's face, by the way he runs his thumb over Eddie's bottom lip knowing full well it'll stop his blathering in its tracks.

Using the opportunity to lean in, bumping their noses together, knowing Eddie will close the gap, will chase his lips with his own, will be thoroughly distracted from his thoughts as his whole world becomes Steve, Steve, Steve. 

Eventually they come up for air, Eddie sitting in Steve's lap, content to rest their foreheads together, just feeling each other close and breathing the same air. Eddie, unable to stop playing with the still damp hair at the nape of Steve's neck, can't quite manage to wipe the stupid, lovesick grin off his face. 

It takes a moment to register what he's doing as Steve wiggles Eddie's continuously vibrating phone out of his pocket, it had been ringing for so long Eddie hadn't even really noticed it but no doubt it's driving Steve crazy. Steve hates phones, he makes them all put them in a bowl when they hang out together, only Jon is allowed anything to hide behind but that's because he and his DSLR are inseparable. 

It's his mum calling, Steve answers and she actually squeals! She loves Steve so much, she has from the moment they met, she treats him like he's her son and honestly if he didn't know that that's just the way she was he'd probably be a bit jealous, especially when he's only ever home for such short periods of time and her and Wayne sit around the breakfast table gushing over Steve's latest whatever, it drives him a little crazy.

Steve had barely been gone an hour the first time Eddie took him home for the weekend before they both started practically begging Eddie to marry him, they've only become more insistant since Chris and Robin's announcement, luckily Uncle Scott always has his back, rescues him from their tinkering with a "leave the boy alone, he'll ask him when he's ready" which is only somewhat helpful.

"So it's true?" she wants to know, Steve kisses Eddie's cheek, hums an affirmative and she screams so much Steve drops the phone onto the couch with a laugh, it goes on and on, like she's won the bloody lottery, the noise coming through the phone only interrupted by Charlie barking, confirming Eddie's suspicion that she's at Wayne and Scott's. Because he loves his family but they're abysmal when it comes to technology and thank god for Uncle Scott because he's the only one who can handle anything more complex than a TV remote.

And it hits him like a freight train because that means this whole thing was planned, and of course it was, he doesn't know why he's only just realising that, but it means that Steve heard him, that he saw and he heard and that this was his response.

It explains why Robin was so pissed, explains why no-one had anything to say because the whole group probably wanted to bang their heads together because what the fuck after all this time, how were they still not understanding each other?

And Eddie can't quite believe his luck, because they've had this massive communication hiccup but Steve just declared his devotion to him anyway, not only in front of his thousands of screaming, adoring fans but in front of the people who matter the most, because yeah the public finding out had been a sticking point once upon a time but none of that had ever really mattered.

Steve declaring his love to him in front of their loved ones though, even after Eddie's massive fuck up, even after he managed to get so stuck in his own head, even after he let that song corrupt what he knew in his heart, he just couldn't quite believe it. Steve's just…

Jesus H Christ!

He's everything!

"Marry me," Eddie blurts and Steve looks surprised for all of two seconds before he's nodding a watery kiss against Eddie's lips.

His mum starts screaming again, "He said yes, right? Eds! Eddie! Answer me!" Then there's the sound of the phone being handed to someone else, it's Wayne, "Eddie! Boy, answer your mother before she deafens us all!"

Eddie breaks away from Steve just enough to grumble "He said yes!" into the phone before turning the damn thing off. They’ve had enough distractions, enough time apart. For now, he just wants five minutes with his fiancé in his arms, before she calls Chrissy and the maniacs come piling in.

[wandering-wolf23]

Yesterday, my 12 year old laptop died.

This machine was an XPS laptop. It was in perfect working order up until the motherboard decided to die. I've swapped keyboards, screens, batteries, and a track pad on this thing, all with the help of YouTube. I actually wanted to get this machine repaired until I learned it would be about 3 grand for a repair that might work. There would be no guarantee and it would be hard finding someone willing to work on a computer that old.

I'm paying someone for data recovery because he can do it better and quicker. When that's done and I have the hard drive, I'm going to donate my old XPS. It can still be repaired if you have the right part and enough time. People do. I'm donating it to a program that takes old computers like these, fixes them, and gives them to low income students. This computer will probably last another 5 years (or more). Parts for it are easily purchased on Amazon.

My new computer is coming today. It's the same build, just slightly newer. It will last me another 12 years I hope. I will repair it as needed. Parts are easily available on Amazon. It will do everything I need it to and, when it's time, I'll swap it all over to a new computer from that same series.

Being able to repair my own machines has made me an XPS user for life. It allows me to save money and cut down on e-waste. So many people are stunned that my old computer was 12 (the one I had before this was 15 before it failed). We are so used to a society with disposable technology that it's genuinely shocking to people when someone says they fixed their own laptop.

But why should people try? So many laptops are made so you can't just unscrew and pop the back off. So many computers are made to fail after two, three, or four years. So many computers are made to force you to buy a new one for whatever capitalist bullshit reason.

I'll gladly pay extra for right to repair and a solid build with easily available replacement parts. That's what's important to me.

[mod-jazzy]

my askblogging vibe as of late

[anothermouse]

I find it weird how ppl will say for reasons that systems are fake is that multiple alters talk similar or have similar interests. Have u ever met siblings. They talk similar and have similar interests because they've spent years together ya dork, as systems start to get along more they're gonna start sharing more interests and speech patterns just like you with people you spend a lot of time with lol. Also they all share a life, they have to be able to act like each other to get by and seem "normal."

[coccyodynia]

there are many people in my life who love to talk about how self aware they are, how they know they're depressed or very mentally ill, or terrible about time management or communication etc etc, and then make absolutely no effort to do anything about the aforementioned issues, and then wonder why their life never gets better. drives me fucking insane.

[rainylana]

“Touch me.”

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie urges you to communicate your sexual feelings for him.

warnings/tags: 18+ smut, spanking, fingering, hair pulling, decrophylia, reader is bad at communicating feelings, somewhat shy reader, reader is afraid of annoying eddie about sex, daddy kink, use of sir, sixth month relationship, reader wants to be hurt by eddie, thumb sucking, basically a fic about my first few times having sex lmao, pain play, all consensual, some angst if you squint, language. let me know if i missed anything!

Eddie knew when there was something on your mind. He could feel your eyes staring into the side of his face, the way you shifted almost anxiously. The relationship was still somewhat new. You’d only been dating for six months, but still, he wanted you to be comfortable enough to ask for what you wanted. Which he knew what it was. Your hand would slip onto his thigh, rub it casually before disappearing back to your lap. Your head would muzzle against his shoulder, kissing his clothed skin before retreating back to your spot on the couch.

Eddie knew you had your battles with things. Sex did not come easy to you at times, nor did communicating about it. But you needed to use your words with him, otherwise neither of you would get anywhere.

It had been almost two hours into the film you were watching. It was late and he was growing tired, moderately buzzed from drinking. The living room was dark and glowing from the staticy light of the television.

“Eddie?” You finally asked, meekly.

“Hmm?” He hummed, arms crossed as his eyes barely blinked from sleep.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You know you can.”

It was quiet again for several seconds. He looked over to find you biting your nails. “What is it?” He sat up slightly.

You laughed almost awkwardly, shaking your head with a deep blush. “I’m…are you tired?”

He smirked just barely. “Yes.” But he was never too tired for sex. “Was that what you wanted to ask me?”

“No.” You shuffled your feet on the floor. “Do you…do you want to have sex?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, looking over at you with curious brown eyes. “I always want to have sex.”

You laughed too, a heavy one that was marinated in relieve. He didn’t reject you. You were always so afraid of that. You were so afraid of bothering him, getting on his nerves. Eddie had taken your virginity, and you weren’t that skilled when it came to sex. You didn’t know what to do at most times, but luckily Eddie knew what he was doing. Still, it made you feel foolish. You just wanted him to be happy, but you were just so damn touch starved all the time.

You always wanted him, but terrified he didn’t want you back. That it would be a sexual burden for sleeping with you.

Eddie cupped your cheek, bringing you into his side so he could hug you. “Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.”

He was so good to you, there was no reason to be fearful of him. You sighed heavily into him, nuzzling your body against his. “I’m just nervous. I don’t want to annoy you.”

“You think sex annoys me?”

“I just don’t want to seem needy or overbearing.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not, babe?” He looked down at you, lifting your chin with his index finger. “You don’t annoy me. You don’t overwhelm me. You worry me sometimes, because you’re always in your head thinking. I need you to communicate with me. That’s all I ask.”

Your eyes had teared up and you nodded, too emotional to speak.

He caught a tear with his finger. “I can’t always assume what you want. I need you to tell me what it is, baby. Tell me what you want.”

His mouth was dangerously close to yours, hovering, testing the waters, waiting for you to tell him exactly what you wanted him to do to you.

“I want you to fuck me.” Your voice is barely over a whisper. “Hard. Don’t be nice to me.”

He smirks just slightly. Your requests were just about as freaky as the things he imagined in his head. “Don’t be nice, huh?” He cocked a brow, dragging his thumb along your jawline. “What do you say?”

“Please.” You closed your eyes in a beg, already wet and throbbing for him. “Please, daddy.”

He pushes his thumb between your lips, passing your teeth and hitting the back of your throat. You suck it immediately, nibbling on his skin just barely. His jaw fall slack at the sting, chin raised in a dominant glare as he watches you. “Do you want me to hurt you?” He asks for you, knowing damn well that it’s what you want.

You’re blushing around his finger, popping him out of your mouth as you nod. “Does it make you uncomfortable?” You ask nervously. You were always afraid to communicate your sexual desires with him, too scared that it might frighten him away.

He can’t roll his eyes or laugh, he knows how delicate the topic is for you. “No, y/n.” He cups your cheek. “It doesn’t as long as it’s what you want. You’re still new to this. You need to go at your own pace. Just be yourself and I’ll guide you.”

You place your mouth on his, rising up so you can climb on his lap. Your hot against him, warm and throbbing. He can feel it. “Then hurt me.” You whimper, emotions building up in your chest, emotions you can never quite understand.

He kisses your neck, hot and sweaty kisses trailing down your skin, his teeth nibbling at your sensitive pale skin. His hands move down to your ass, quickly yanking down your shorts to grab you with thick hands. “You know your safe word. Use it when you need to. Don’t worry about me.”

Your heart begins to bang in your chest, hitting you with nerves and adrenaline, but you nod. You nod because it’s what you want and he knows how to give it to you. There’s no other person that can give you relief like the does.

“Stay still.” Your over his lap now, grabbing at the couch in front of you as he adjusts you to where he needs you, plump ass in the air and ready for him to do with what he wants.

“Yes, sir.” Your face is beet red, cheek pressed against your arm. You close your eyes, ready for what’s to come.

Your crying soon after he starts, whimpering and moaning as he spanks you, alternating cheek to cheek in a steady rhythm that has your legs twitching out from the uncomfortable burn. You move down to grab at his ankle, your cunt throbbing around nothing so painfully.

Eddie’s cock is hard, straining against his jeans as he cracks down his hand, leaving red marks on your skin that’ll surely leave a bruise. His panting, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck as he continues to spank you.

You lift your hips to meet his hand, begging for more and more of this punishment, if that’s what it was. Your choking on your tears, sputtering out a sob. “Ow!” You whimper.

He looks at you, but doesn’t stop. He knows you’ll stop him when you’ve had enough. You always do. Your ass is on fire and so is your pussy, leaking down your leg as you sputter out cries. “Touch me.” You beg, broken by your cries.

He stops as soon as you say the word, knowing you’ve had enough, and dips his fingers into your sopping wet cunt. “Did that feel good baby? You like it when daddy spanks you?”

You moan out loud, hot and pornographic at the feeling of his fingers. You can’t say anything only muttering a jarbled mhm. He doesn’t correct you for it, smirking as he fingers you quickly.

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” He lays his other hand on your head to stroke your hair, the other continuing to finger you. “Or do you want me to touch you like this?”

You surprise both him and yourself, climbing off his lap to attack his lips. He’s pushed to the back of the couch, limbs tangling together in a heap as you make love to his lips. “Fuck me, mean, Eddie.”

He groans into your mouth, hurriedly letting go of you to unbuckle his belt and free his long cock. He’s bending you over the couch, lifting your legs to hang off of the back so he can reach your hole. He teases you a lot about your height difference.

He moans when he pushes into your pussy and you sob out in relief, laying your hands on the couch to keep you from falling off. Your tits are bouncing underneath you, the sound of skin slapping together as he starts to fuck you.

He’s not nice about it, just as you asked. He’s hard and rough, fucking you mean and abusing your g-spot with heavy, deep thrusts that have you spewing out desperate cries.

“Oh, god!” You struggle to keep upright, your hands slipping from their position. “Fuck me, fuck, fuck me!”

He slaps a hand down on your red ass that makes you screech, recoiling back to his hips for more. He grabs a fist full of your hair, yanking you back up to him so your back is flush with his chest. “Is this mean enough? Should I let you cum? That’s mean, isn’t it?”

He fucks up into you sharply. “Huh? Tell me, angel.”

You’re begging to come, promising you’ll be good and you’ll obey him. He’s got you bent back over, grabbing your hips to thrust into you deeply, so harshly that you can barely form a coherent sentence. He bottoms out while he cums, shooting his load into you as you clamp down on his cock.

[uravitypng]

bird creature/hybrid keigo takami x chubby reader

KINKTOBER: breeding (+praise)

word count: 3.0k words / mdni ! 18+ / this turned into a full on fic and is pretty fluffy tbh <3 it has more plot than porn sdfgjhbmfbxfvcbsxn and i haven't read it through properly but ssshhhh

being kicked out of your party sucks, 'you don't fill the roll of beast tamer' or something, they've found someone more skilled and experienced so now you're stuck alone in the middle of a forest after accepting a quest which you currently regret taking.

it should be a simple herb collection quest but it's being more of a hassle than it's worth, you shred off the top layers of your clothes and tie it around your waist, dropping your sheep hide bag and gulping down some of your water. after a while you stumble across a clearing with a lake and it looks like you'll finally be able to have room to properly set up your tent.

you don't realise but you're being watched. golden brown eyes piercing down at you, watching you with hawk-eyed vision on high alert to his surroundings. you met him the following morning, as you were leaving your tent something suddenly blocked out the sunlight before landing next to you. a bird creature was in front of you or maybe he was a hybrid, you weren't sure but he was rather intimidating. this man has bright red feather wings with a huge wing span and sandy blonde and white small fluffy parts on his arms and chest covered with a brown flimsy tunic with a handsome human face with golden eyes and blonde windswept hair. you're already quite fearful but after you spot his talons that look like they could slice you in half you really start panicking.

you were able to calm down when he smiled and held out his hand, you flinched first but in his palms where berries. you know those berries, they were edible, very rare and very tasty. later you found out his name was keigo but everyone call him hawks, when he told you this he also told you that he wanted you to call him keigo. he has limited human speech and it was hard to communicate with each other but you both tried your best.

you don't know this but when you accepted the berries he gave you in his mind that made you his mate, it solidified it in his mind and he was very happy that you accepted his advances. he's your provider and he has to look after you. you don't know that he thinks like that though.

you should of left the forest weeks ago, there was no reason for you to stay... well apart from keigo. you knew he would stay in the forest it's his home, you couldn't ask him to go with you and why would he? 'i probably care about him a lot more than he does me, which is fine! he likely has plenty of friends and his own kind in the forest, i just miss company after what happened with my old party... i like his company.' you can't bring yourself to leave, not yet, even if that means you're getting close to the rainy season, and it's always dangerous to be out in the wild in the rainy season. it's so easy to wind up dead, your body never found either downstream or at the bottom of cliffs that people can't access.

"shit!" you were foresting for some berries when you felt a drop of rain fall on your head, that drop turned into ten, then twenty, then fifty, all in a matter of seconds. you nearly fell as you tried to turn back to the somewhat safer option of your tent but the ground below you quickly became mud and slippy causing you to trip, luckily you were able to catch yourself on a nearby tree before falling face first and getting back as fast but safely as you can.

you're soaked to the bone and as the tent finally meets your eyeline it's getting you to walk quicker. you hear something above and you look up the best you can, covering your eyes with your hand but still somehow some water gets in your eyes, looking above you see hawks flying to you. "keigo, what are you doing?! go home, get in the tent, get anywhere. i know it might be different for you, i know you're less fragile than me but it's still raining heavily. what if there's lightning!" you shout at him to the sky.

keigo lands down, water slashing you in the process and getting mud on your trousers. he's careful as he pulls you towards him, making sure his talons won't hurt you and you're pressed against his body, "come." you're confused and you try to move so you can reach your tent but as you look behind you your back straightens as you see your tent. you don't even know if you could call it a tent anymore. the wind has blown it so much that it's just broken cut up fabric tied down by one singular peg, the others already blown away. "come," he repeats himself and pulls you closer towards his warm body before flying away, you can't help but scream as you lift up off the ground and you swear over the rain you can hear keigo laugh. you always wondered what it would be like if he took you up in his wings to fly, you've always thought they were so majestic but you never envisioned it going like this.

it's hard to hear and talk over the heavy patter of the rain but you try anyway. "keigo where are we going?"

"home," he replies and you hear him loud and clear, you don't know if that's because he's louder than the rain or leaning close to you or if you hear it loud and clear because your heart is just beating out of your chest at the answer.

it seemed like a long while of flying but when you finally reached the floor keigo carefully landed and put you down. looking around to where you are you see that you're outside a cave but you don't know that you can call it a cave anymore. at a quick glance from the outside it looks like it was originally a cave but the opening is covered by rocks, wood and other building materials, keeping the inside warm and dry. there's a wooden door to the side and you think you can see a lock on it. the outside reminded you a lot of your childhood home but you can't pinpoint why. "come," he grabs your wrist cautiously with his talons and leads you inside.

a blast of heat hits you when you enter and you immediately warm up, even if it's just a little bit through your wet clothes. it looks pretty barren apart from some small trinkets along the wall and the bed is covered in blankets and other fluffy comfortable things, definitely more comfortable than anything you've been sleeping recently. you stay where you are not moving from the door, not wanting to get everything wet. keigo leaves but comes back a minute or so after with a towel for you and second one in his hand for him.

"thank you," you say quietly and shyly taking the towel from him. after doing your best to dry your hair and dry the rest of your clothes keigo leans down to your neck and nuzzles you while cooing, heat quickly rises to your cheeks and he pulls back and takes you further into his home before dropping your hand and he goes back into one of his back rooms.

you miss his hand in yours but when he returns he's holding a shirt, "for you."

"me?" you point to yourself and he nods. "i don't know if it will fit, i might be a bit small." you tell him but he looks back at you with an easygoing smile that puts you at ease. you know it probably won't fit right, you're not exactly small but you don't have much choice with how wet your clothes are. "thank you," you return his smile. you feel small under his gaze as he looks at you, it seems like he has no plan to leave you alone to get changed or look away. "um, okay, i'll-" you turn away from him and lift up your top. when you take it off and start to fold it keigo holds you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, his wings softly fluttering. you get flustered and wonder what you should do, this isn't normal human behaviour but keigo isn't human maybe this is completely normal for him, although he's never done this before, but maybe he knows how cold you are.

"k-keigo i need to put this on, i'll get cold." he's slow as he takes his hands off you, making you shiver in the process. you quickly get changed pulling on the top that you've been given and pulling down your trousers. you were right about how it doesn't fit you but at least you're dry. the top is thin and covers up to your mid-thigh, the fabric tight along your waist, stomach and breasts but it's still comfortable. you turn round to look at him and twiddle with your thumbs, he smiles at you again and rubs his face against yours, making your cheeks heat up.

"drink?"

"huh?" you ask slightly distracted by how intimate this is.

"drink? keep you warm." he gestures to you and then gestures to another room. you nod your head, not knowing what drink you're saying yes to but happy to be warm and experience what drinks keigo likes and drinks, it might just be tea you'll have to wait and see.

you feel a bit uncomfortable just standing around and you don't notice any chairs so you perch yourself on the bed, hoping keigo won't mind. when keigo comes back he's wearing different clothes and he's holding two mugs, you smile at him and you notice he doesn't smile back. 'did i do something wrong? he's not smiling. maybe i was wrong about him not minding about me sitting down on the bed, i should of just stayed standing up.' keigo is holding onto the mugs so tightly that his hands are turning white. "i'm really sorry keigo, i didn't mean to make you angry," you rush out as quick as you can, hurrying to get up but as you start lifting off the bed two feathers rapidly leave keigo's wings and pins you down to the bed by the top you're wearing. you've never seen him do that before so part of you is thinking about how impressive it is, the other part of you worried and confused hoping he'll forgive you for whatever accidental mistake you made.

keigo places the cups down on the side. "i'm sor-" before you can finish your sentence, he moves on top of you, making your eyes widen, at that moment you see his eyes, heavily dilated looking down at you tenderly but hungrily.

"do you like?" he asks stroking your chubby cheeks.

"like?" you ask confused.

"nest." he kisses your nose.

you're not one hundred percent sure what you're saying yes to but you think he's talking about what you're laying on and you do like it, it's warm and cosy and you could stay here for ever. "i like it very much. i could stay here forever."

keigo trills when he hears you say that, "did a good job?"

you never thought keigo would be one for seeking approval but you suppose everyone does. "amazing job." you nod your head and lift your hands up to his wings and run your hands through them making him shiver. after all that's happened you're still surprised as he gently bites your lip, a silent request for you to open your mouth and you grant him access, parting your lips, keigo taking the lead controlling the movement as your tongues intertwine and you kiss. you have no idea how much time goes by, so caught up in the moment, it could of been three minutes or thirty for all you know, all you know is how good everything feels.

as you move apart you open up your eyes to see him smirking at you, your cheeks are hot. he kisses the corner of your mouth and squeezes your plush thighs before gently trailing his knuckle up and down your inner thigh, slowly inching up your, his, top. keigo brings both his hands to your outer thighs and slivers up the rest of the top until he sees your hips, eyes practically glowing as he nuzzles your neck again.

at some point while all of this was happening he started rubbing his hard dick along your thigh, getting precum everywhere, you had no idea when was able to take off his clothes.

this time he uses his talons as he rips up your underwear leaving you bare and maybe you should be scared of how close his talons were to you but you weren't. he uses his knuckles again and brushes along your opening, he thrills when he feels how wet you are and before you even realise it he's slowly pushing himself into you. he sees you wince and kisses all along your neck and pauses for a second, then continues just as slow as he was before not wanting to hurt you. when he's fully in he waits and kisses you all over, touching all over your body, your hips and stomach especially, groping and squeezing. keigo feels you start relaxing around him and starts moving, slow thrusts in and out of you, not wanting to hurt you.

keigo's thrusts start to speed up uncontrollable as he kept feeling you clench around him and how wet you are, almost feral, animalistic. a white creamy ring forms at the bottom of his dick and he becomes more and more feral. you moan loudly and bury your head into the soft blankets and materials. "feel so good!" you cry out mumbled against the pillows. you ball your fists up into the covers, holding onto them tight and keigo goes harder.

"you feel good too. i'll keep making you feel good," he leans down to your ear and kisses your cheek. you nod your head even though it wasn't a question and keigo's eyes dilate even more than they have been. he touches you very gently, circling against your clit and kisses your pulse point, delicately sucking a mark on your neck. his pace stays the same, still fast. your back arches and you feel the coil in your stomach winding up more and more, so close to snapping. you whine as the coil in you snaps and you cum, body tight in an arch before shaking.

keigo smirks as he watches your body fall and go limp. he picks up your legs and folds you in half, gripping hold of your thighs tightly and his pace increases so fast that it leaves you breathless, your body bounces and he watches you ravenously. "gonna give you my seed, gonna make you a pretty mummy." keigo chokes a groan and holds onto you tighter. you should be trying to move away and tell him no but you don't, instead you clench tighter around him and nod your head rapidly in desire, you've never wanted something so badly. warm ropes of cum spills into you filling you up. keigo smirks and peppers your face with kisses.

"keigo have you seen how messy tsunagu's clothes are! it's a nightmare washing them all the time!" you complain scowling as you pick up your youngest sons shirt.

keigo chuckles and comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing you behind you ear, "he's such a troublemaker." you shiver as you feel his breath against your skin and his voice so close to you, he smirks.

it's been five years since you first stepped foot in your home, it's been five years since you and keigo first had sex. in those five years a lot has changed, your relationship included. you and keigo have no problem communicating anymore, both now speaking the same language with keigo learning how to write and read everything too. you have two boys together and they're wonderful. you got married and it was one of the happiest days of your life. you've practically abandoned human civilisation, by your own choice. occasionally you'll go into town if you need something but you stay in the forest most of the time. you've met keigo's friend and they all call him hawks, even the ones he's known since children. you asked him why he told you to call him keigo when you first met especially since everyone calls him hawks and he told you it's because he knew as soon as he met you that you were his mate and you would spend the rest of your life together.

"i know a way to calm him down." you hear the mischievous tone in his voice.

you play along, "oh?"

"i think he needs to be a big brother." he pulls you closer to him and rubs your soft stomach.

grinning wide, "really?"

keigo hums and kisses your neck. "yeah birdie, a little one he can help and look after will keep him out of trouble." he nuzzles against you and plays with your stomach. he turns you around to look at him, holding onto your hands and smirking. nonchalantly asking, "what are we aiming for this time? a girl or another boy?" he taps his finger to his chin, "i'm thinking girl."

"i'm thinking a girl too," you smile fondly and kiss his nose. keigo's wings flutter out when you kiss him and you giggle.

"i'll lock the door."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Antiusurpation and the road to disenshittification

THIS WEEKEND (November 8-10), I'll be in TUCSON, AZ: I'm the GUEST OF HONOR at the TUSCON SCIENCE FICTION CONVENTION.

Nineties kids had a good reason to be excited about the internet's promise of disintermediation: the gatekeepers who controlled our access to culture, politics, and opportunity were crooked as hell, and besides, they sucked.

For a second there, we really did get a lot of disintermediation, which created a big, weird, diverse pluralistic space for all kinds of voices, ideas, identities, hobbies, businesses and movements. Lots of these were either deeply objectionable or really stupid, or both, but there was also so much cool stuff on the old, good internet.

Then, after about ten seconds of sheer joy, we got all-new gatekeepers, who were at least as bad, and even more powerful, than the old ones. The net became Tom Eastman's "Five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of the other four." Culture, politics, finance, news, and especially power have been gathered into the hands of unaccountable, greedy, and often cruel intermediaries.

Oh, also, we had an election.

This isn't an election post. I have many thoughts about the election, but they're still these big, unformed blobs of anger, fear and sorrow. Experience teaches me that the only way to get past this is to just let all that bad stuff sit for a while and offgas its most noxious compounds, so that I can handle it safely and figure out what to do with it.

While I wait that out, I'm just getting the job done. Chop wood, carry water. I've got a book to write, Enshittification, for Farar, Straus, Giroux's MCD Books, and it's very nearly done:

https://twitter.com/search?q=from%3Adoctorow+%23dailywords&src=typed_query&f=live

Compartmentalizing my anxieties and plowing that energy into productive work isn't necessarily the healthiest coping strategy, but it's not the worst, either. It's how I wrote nine books during the covid lockdowns.

And sometimes, when you're not staring directly at something, you get past the tunnel vision that makes it impossible to see its edges, fracture lines, and weak points.

So I'm working on the book. It's a book about platforms, because enshittification is a phenomenon that is most visible and toxic on platforms. Platforms are intermediaries, who connect buyers and sellers, creators and audiences, workers and employers, politicians and voters, activists and crowds, as well as families, communities, and would-be romantic partners.

There's a reason we keep reinventing these intermediaries: they're useful. Like, it's technically possible for a writer to also be their own editor, printer, distributor, promoter and sales-force:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#intermediation

But without middlemen, those are the only writers we'll get. The set of all writers who have something to say that I want to read is much larger than the set of all writers who are capable of running their own publishing operation.

The problem isn't middlemen: the problem is powerful middlemen. When an intermediary gets powerful enough to usurp the relationship between the parties on either side of the transaction, everything turns to shit:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/12/direct-the-problem-of-middlemen/

A dating service that faces pressure from competition, regulation, interoperability and a committed workforce will try as hard as it can to help you find Your Person. A dating service that buys up all its competitors, cows its workforce, captures its regulators and harnesses IP law to block interoperators will redesign its service so that you keep paying forever, and never find love:

https://www.npr.org/sections/money/2024/02/13/1228749143/the-dating-app-paradox-why-dating-apps-may-be-worse-than-ever

Multiply this a millionfold, in every sector of our complex, high-tech world where we necessarily rely on skilled intermediaries to handle technical aspects of our lives that we can't – or shouldn't – manage ourselves. That world is beholden to predators who screw us and screw us and screw us, jacking up our rents:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/yes-there-are-antitrust-voters-in

Cranking up the price of food:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/04/dont-let-your-meat-loaf/#meaty-beaty-big-and-bouncy

And everything else:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

(Maybe this is a post about the election after all?)

The difference between a helpmeet and a parasite is power. If we want to enjoy the benefits of intermediaries without the risks, we need policies that keep middlemen weak. That's the opposite of the system we have now.

Take interoperability and IP law. Interoperability (basically, plugging new things into existing things) is a really powerful check against powerful middlemen. If you rely on an ad-exchange to fund your newsgathering and they start ripping you off, then an interoperable system that lets you use a different exchange will not only end the rip off – it'll make it less likely to happen in the first place because the ad-tech platform will be afraid of losing your business:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

Interoperability means that when a printer company gouges you on ink, you can buy cheap third party ink cartridges and escape their grasp forever:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Interoperability means that when Amazon rips off audiobook authors to the tune of $100m, those authors can pull their books from Amazon and sell them elsewhere and know that their listeners can move their libraries over to a different app:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/07/audible-exclusive/#audiblegate

But interoperability has been in retreat for 40 years, as IP law has expanded to criminalize otherwise normal activities, so that middlemen can use IP rights to protect themselves from their end-users and business customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

That's what I mean when I say that "IP" is "any law that lets a business reach beyond its own walls and control the actions of its customers, competitors and critics."

For example, there's a pernicious law 1998 US law that I write about all the time, Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, the "anticircumvention law." This is a law that felonizes tampering with copyright locks, even if you are the creator of the undelying work.

So Amazon – the owner of the monopoly audiobook platform Audible – puts a mandatory copyright lock around every audiobook they sell. I, as an author who writes, finances and narrates the audiobook, can't provide you, my customer, with a tool to remove that lock. If I do so, I face criminal sanctions: a five year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine for a first offense:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/25/can-you-hear-me-now/#acx-ripoff

In other words: if I let you take my own copyrighted work out of Amazon's app, I commit a felony, with penalties that are far stiffer than the penalties you would face if you were to simply pirate that audiobook. The penalties for you shoplifting the audiobook on CD at a truck-stop are lower than the penalties the author and publisher of the book would face if they simply gave you a tool to de-Amazon the file. Indeed, even if you hijacked the truck that delivered the CDs, you'd probably be looking at a shorter sentence.

This is a law that is purpose-built to encourage intermediaries to usurp the relationship between buyers and sellers, creators and audiences. It's a charter for parasitism and predation.

But as bad as that is, there's another aspect of DMCA 1201 that's even worse: the exemptions process.

You might have read recently about the Copyright Office "freeing the McFlurry" by granting a DMCA 1201 exemption for companies that want to reverse-engineer the error-codes from McDonald's finicky, unreliable frozen custard machines:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/28/mcbroken/#my-milkshake-brings-all-the-lawyers-to-the-yard

Under DMCA 1201, the Copyright Office hears petitions for these exemptions every three years. If they judge that anticircumvention law is interfering with some legitimate activity, the statute empowers them to grant an exemption.

When the DMCA passed in 1998 (and when the US Trade Rep pressured other world governments into passing nearly identical laws in the decades that followed), this exemptions process was billed as a "pressure valve" that would prevent abuses of anticircumvention law.

But this was a cynical trick. The way the law is structured, the Copyright Office can only grant "use" exemptions, but not "tools" exemptions. So if you are granted the right to move Audible audiobooks into a third-party app, you are personally required to figure out how to do that. You have to dump the machine code of the Audible app, decompile it, scan it for vulnerabilities, and bootstrap your own jailbreaking program to take Audible wrapper off the file.

No one is allowed to help you with this. You aren't allowed to discuss any of this publicly, or share a tool that you make with anyone else. Doing any of this is a potential felony.

In other words, DMCA 1201 gives intermediaries power over you, but bans you from asking an intermediary to help you escape another abusive middleman.

This is the exact opposite of how intermediary law should work. We should have rules that ban intermediaries from exercising undue power over the parties they serve, and we should have rules empowering intermediaries to erode the advantage of powerful intermediaries.

The fact that the Copyright Office grants you an exemption to anticircumvention law means nothing unless you can delegate that right to an intermediary who can exercise it on your behalf.

A world without publishing intermediaries is one in which the only writers who thrive are the ones capable of being publishers, too, and that's a tiny fraction of all the writers with something to say.

A world without interoperability intermediaries is one in which the only platform users who thrive are also skilled reverse-engineering ninja hackers – and that's an infinitesimal fraction of the platform users who would benefit from interoperabilty.

Let this be your north star in evaluating platform regulation proposals. Platform regulation should weaken intermediaries' powers over their users, and strengthen their power over other middlemen.

Put in this light, it's easy to see why the ill-informed calls to abolish Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act (which makes platform users, not platforms, responsible for most unlawful speech) are so misguided:

https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/

If we require platforms to surveil all user speech and block anything that might violate any law, we give the largest, most powerful platforms a permanent advantage over smaller, better platforms, run by co-ops, hobbyists, nonprofits local governments, and startups. The big platforms have the capital to rig up massive, automated surveillance and censorship systems, and the only alternatives that can spring up have to be just as big and powerful as the Big Tech platforms we're so desperate to escape:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/23/evacuate-the-platforms/#let-the-platforms-burn

This is especially grave given the current political current, where fascist politicians are threatening platforms with brutal punishments for failing to censor disfavored political views.

Anyone who tells you that "it's only censorship when the government does it" is badly confused. It's only a First Amendment violation when the government does it, sure – but censorship has always relied on intermediaries. From the Inquisition to the Comics Code, government censors were only able to do their jobs because powerful middlemen, fearing state punishments, blocked anything that might cross the line, censoring far beyond the material actually prohibited by the law:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/22/self-censorship/#hugos

We live in a world of powerful, corrupt middlemen. From payments to real-estate, from job-search to romance, there's a legion of parasites masquerading as helpmeets, burying their greedy mouthparts into our tender flesh:

https://www.capitalisnt.com/episodes/visas-hidden-tax-on-americans

But intermediaries aren't the problem. You shouldn't have to stand up your own payment processor, or learn the ins and outs of real-estate law, or start your own single's bar. The problem is power, not intermediation.

As we set out to build a new, good internet (with a lot less help from the US government than seemed likely as recently as last week), let's remember that lesson: the point isn't disintermediation, it's weak intermediation.

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/2024/11/07/usurpers-helpmeets/#disreintermediation

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en (Image: Cryteria, CC BY 3.0, modified)

[bussyslayer333]

‘cause you’re so smooth

summary: phoenix invites the boys to her salsa class, big mistake.

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, suggestive nature lols, me not knowing anything about salsa

my return to writing with a fic i teased over a year ago!! i hope you all enjoy

ps requests r open :p

“Nix, if you think I want to spend my Sunday evening learning to salsa dance with a bunch of soccer moms then I think your concussion hasn’t healed properly.” Jake sasses in response to Nat’s invitation.

“Yeah, I’m sorry Nat but Sunday is my chill out day, when else am I gonna beat Fitch’s ass on cod?” Fanboy reasons.

Natasha knew it was a stretch asking the boys to join her salsa dancing class, but she thought it was important for them to get out more. At the moment, seemingly all they did was trudge from work to the Hard Deck over and over again.

She sighs, “it would be good for you guys to get out more, y’know?”

“I’ll go, Nat,” Bob smiles, nodding to her from where he is perched on a stool behind her.

“Thank you, Bob.” Nat nods back to him, “the rest of you can suck it.”

“Hey!” Bradley yells as he appears back from the bar, beers in tow, “what did we say about using that type of language?”

“Shut up Dadley,” Nat rolls her eyes as Bradley flicks his tongue out before handing her a beer.

“As much as I’d truly love to attend that class ‘Nix, I’m already a salsa pro and I wouldn’t want you to feel embarrassed about your skills,” Bradley declares, before taking an obnoxious sip of his beer.

“Yeah fuckin’ right, and my dad is prima ballerina,” Jake snorts.

“Let’s not discredit Papa Seresin, I saw him tear Boogie Wonderland up at your sister’s wedding.” Coyote nods.

“Yeah and even that shit was better than what Rooster could pull off,” Jake decides.

Bradley only shrugs at the jibe, a lazy smirk plastered onto his face, which serves only to piss Jake off more.

“Dance off?” Fanboy proposes, standing to head to the jukebox.

“No?” Jake frowns.

Fanboy drops back to his seat with a sigh, “was worth a shot.”

Nat shakes her head with a snort and brings the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“Look it’s fine, I’m just saying I think you guys would enjoy it!” She reasons.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun!” Bob adds happily.

Nat can only sigh at the lack of response.

Bob is already waiting outside the community centre when Nat arrives, looking down and nervously picking at a thread on the bottom of his gym shorts.

“You ready?” Nat questions, trying to alleviate his nerves.

When Bob looks up his brows unfurl and he lets a small smile sip onto his face.

“Yeah, sure, let’s do this!” He pumps his fist a little awkwardly.

Nat can only chuckle in response as she makes her way to the room at the left of the reception where the class is held. You’re stood by the door chatting with one of the older women in your class when Nat comes into your view.

“Natasha! How’s my best student?” You tease, stepping towards her.

“I’m great, thanks!” Nat blushes before gesturing to Bob, “I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend.”

Bob sucks in a breath as you finally lock eyes with him. Shit. You were beautiful and those leggings were doing you an undoubted amount of favours.

Sadly, Bob had an incredibly annoying habit he was unable to shake. It was known as “embarrassing himself in front of beautiful women” and that seemed to strike him just as you stuck your manicured hand out to shake his own.

The breath that Bob had sucked in caught in his throat which was drying up increasingly as he took you in, leading to an unprecedented coughing fit doubling him over. What seemed to make it worse was your shocked gasp and immediate move to lean over him and pay his back gently. Bob tried not to focus on your cleavage directly next to his face and instead on regulating his breathing. It was proving difficult, especially when he could hear Nat cackling at his misfortune from behind him.

Once almost fully back to normal, you squeeze his bicep and chuckle,

“I don’t think I’ve ever quite literally taken someone’s breath away!” You giggle, voice oh so sweet.

Bob can’t even let himself feel embarrassed with the way your soft hand feels on his arm.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he cringes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile reassuringly.

Nat is growing seemingly agitated by Bob’s lingering near the door so she steers him forwards away from you.

“Best get set up!” She announces, dragging him into the room.

The classroom is spacious, a high ceiling and large windows on the left wall. The wall facing the door is covered in mirrors that amplify the light in the area.

Before Bob can speak up again, two men who look to be in their late 40s rush over towards Natasha. They’re the complete opposite of one another, the first who reaches for Natasha is tanned and has dark curling hair with flecks of grey throughout.

“Natasha! Darling it is so great to see you!” He exclaims with a slight accent, holding her hand in his.

The other has embraced the grey in his hair, he’s relatively pale but has clearly kept his physique, he nods towards Bob with a glint of something in his eye, “I thought he wasn’t your type?”

Nat snorts, clueing Bob in finally on what the two men were hinting at.

“My best friend, boys don’t worry,” she teases.

“Thank God, I’ve been trying to set you up with my niece for how long now?” The dark haired man smiles.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m always busy at the moment,” she shrugs apologetically before turning back to Bob, “Bob this is Marco and Luke.”

They both shake his hand and size him up as they do so, the grey haired one (Luke) declares.

“He’s cute, Nat, where have you been hiding him?” He prods.

Bob exhales at the approval and watches as Nat breaks out into laughter. “Away from you!”

Marco and Luke break into laughter alongside Nat and Bob can’t help himself but join. Just as they’re all catching their breath, Bob jumps out of his skin again as he feels his hand on his shoulder.

“Boys, we’re being welcoming to our newcomer aren’t we?” You hum.

Your hip is touching Bob’s and the soft skin of your hand on his shoulder has him malfunctioning, luckily he isn’t forced into replying (or choking) this time.

“Of course we are beautiful, what do you think of us?” Marco gasps in faux shock.

“I think that I know what you two are like,” you roll your eyes before making your way to the front of the room.

You send Bob a sly wink before finally beginning, “It’s so great to see you all again!”

Everyone in the room blurts out greetings at you as you begin, “We’ll continue on from last week,” you strut over to the stereo in the corner and a latin pop track floats out into the room and Bob vaguely recognises the tune.

Marco and Luke are quick to start fluidly moving around the floor space and Bob notices that others in the room are doing the same. You make your way quickly over to him and place your hand on the small of his back, straightening his posture.

“I don’t expect you to get it immediately,” you smile into his ear, “we’ll start off with some basics and turn variations.”

Bob hopes you can’t see the nervous perspiration already forming on the back of his neck and nods a little too eagerly at your words. He looks back to Nat for some encouragement but she’s already dancing and chatting with a group of women next to the tall windows.

“I don’t bite,” You giggle, shocking Bob who looks back to see you holding your hand out for him to grab onto.

“Sorry, I’m not the best dancer-” Bob’s self depreciation is swiftly disrupted by you placing his hand on your waist and the other in your own.

“All the more for me to work with,” you smile, and Bob feels himself smiling back.

Although a tad clunky, Bob manages not to step on your toes and has some surprisingly fluid hip movement which intrigues you ever so slightly.

By the last ten minutes of the class, Bob is twirling Marco around as Luke and Nat chat to you about technique.

“What were you nervous about?” Marco probes Bob, “you’re a natural!”

Bob can only chuckle shyly in response and he glances over at your frame. Marco seems to notice Bob’s longing glances and slowly stops their dance.

“Go for it.”

“What?” Bob splutters.

“She’s been making googoo eyes at you the whole time mister, don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”

Bob reels for a moment at Marcos admission before straightening up. “You think?”

Marco rolls his eyes. “I know.”

Before Bob can reach you you’re already strutting back towards the stereo to lower the volume of the music and gather everyone’s attention.

“Thank you so much everyone! You’ve all been brilliant today and I can’t wait to see you next week!” You beam at everyone.

People begin to gather to chat and start to disperse and you begin to gather your own belongings, stopping to make conversation with others as you do so. Luke and Nat join Bob and Marco with sly smirks on their faces.

“So…” Nat begins, “You’ll be coming back next week I presume?”

Bob flushes at Nat’s knowing look. “Yeah,” he looks to you, “definitely.”

Bob didn’t mean to let it slip. Like seriously, his lips were so sealed. Air tight.

“But HOW hot are we talking?” Mickey slurs over the nth shot he’d done with Bob at the Hard Deck’s happy hour.

So maybe not air tight.

It was Thursday evening and the rest of the daggers had politely declined drinks with Fanboy, but Bob (the ever dutiful friend) had accepted, hoping to be in and out within the hour. But alas, here they were.

“Fuckin’ smoking,” Bob mimes an explosion with his hands as Mickey nods enthusiastically to his answer.

“I choked on air when I saw her and almost popped a boner during a Justin Timberlake song,” Bob continues to ramble, once given the chance to talk about you he clearly wasn’t going to stop.

“And when is this class?” Mickey slumps closer to Bob, tequila breath hot on his neck.

“Ummmm, Sunday evening at 6 I think?” Bob nods, remembering the details Nat had sent him in a text the week previous.

“Good to know,” Mickey hums, reaching his hand forward to signal for another round, knocking someone’s drink over in the process. “Oops.”

Bob is quick to drag Mickey away from the bar top after that, realising they’d probably overdone it a tad for a weekday evening.

As the cool sea breeze hits Bob’s flushed face whilst him and Mickey wait outside the Hard Deck for their uber, he can’t help but let his mind drift to you, what you were potentially up to, do you teach other classes during the week? Do you dance professionally? God, you definitely could, the way your hips moved-

Bob shook his head, as if to get the image of you stuck in his mind out. He looked to Mickey hanging off of his arm, he was looking to the ground and shaking as if to stave off the imminent vomit that was about to leave his mouth any second now.

“Let’s get you home man,” Bob pats Mickey on the head, dragging him towards their Uber pulling up.

“Hey, Bob!” Nat yells across the parking lot, catching the back of her friend’s tall frame leant against a pillar near the front of the community center.

When Bob turns around, Nat notices two people next to him who she was not expecting to see.

“Fitch? Fanboy?” Nat cocks her head to the side. “I thought you guys were too busy to come?”

Nat’s accusatory eyes meet Bob’s sheepish expression as he awkwardly clears his throat.

“We heard the teacher was hot as fuck.” Payback shrugs.

Fanboy giggles next to him in excitement, “I’ve been practicing-”

“Bob I swear-” Natasha begins, finger pointing right into Bob’s chest.

“Sup, biatches!” Jake yells, alerting everyone of his and Javy’s presence. “Who’s ready to get their salsa on?”

Nat spins around on her heel, eyes shooting daggers into Jake and Javy.

“Bob, I’m going to kill you.” She states, eerily calm.

“Oh come on Phe! You wanted us here just last week!” Jake exclaims, walking round to slap Bob on the shoulder and greet Payback and Fanboy behind him.

“Yeah! When I wanted you guys to get out and do something productive! Not fuck my lovely salsa teacher, who by the way, was not socialised by wolves! So will absolutely not be charmed by any of you fools!”

With that, Nat turns and walks into the community center, leaving the boys to sprint in after her.

“At least this can’t get any worse,” Nat mutters to herself, pulling the door to your studio open.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nat stills in the doorway, the rest of the boys behind her peeking their heads in.

“What now?” Bob asks guiltily.

Nat opens the door fully and allows the men behind her to file into the studio, where her fellow classmates are stood in a semi circle whooping and hollering at you dancing in the middle with none other than Bradley Bradshaw.

“Fucking Bradshaw,” Jake scoffs, pushing his way ahead whilst checking himself out in the full length mirrors that line the opposite wall of the room.

“Chicken never told us he could dance!” Jake yells over the latin music filling the room, successfully interrupting your dance with Bradley.

Bradley’s head whips to the side at the sound of that familiar ear grating voice. He gives you an apologetic look as he walks over to begin squabbling with a man you presume he knows. The commotion between the boys alerts you to the presence of Natasha and Bob as well as three other unfamiliar men. When Bradley had introduced himself with a smirk and a drawling voice as a friend of Natasha’s you had to wonder whether all of her colleagues were so handsome and by the looks of it, they were.

Nat is quick to walk over to you with an apologetic smile. “I want to apologise in advance for the next hour. They are insufferable.”

You look behind her to where the gaggle of men she calls her close friends are stood, you can see Marco and Luke itching to get their claws in and you have to giggle. This should be interesting.

After instructing the rest of your class to continue practicing the routine you had been working on, you figure it was only fair to come and personally consult your newest joiners.

As the boys (and Nat) notice you wandering towards them, they all begin to elbow each other like school boys giggling amongst themselves. Bob and Nat can only keep their embarrassment internal for so long.

When you come to a stop in front of them, the man you’ve come to learn as Jake smiles dazzlingly and stretches his arms above his head,

“God it is hot in here!” He begins to reach for the bottom of his shirt, aiming to impress you with his toned stomach.

“The A/C is on full blast dumbass.” Nat swats at the back of Jake’s head, causing him to drop his shirt again and rub at his temple. “Ow!”

Snickers fall from Javy and Mickey, who quickly straighten themselves up when they see you casting your eyes over them.

“As I said to Bob last week, with all my new starters I’ll begin with some basics for you guys and then we can ease into a routine,” you smile, heading towards Bradley and Nat.

“Since you two already have some experience you can help me teach!”

Bradley preens under your praise, already assuming the role of teacher’s pet, whilst Nat looks mildly irritated at having to teach her imbecilic friends how to dance.

“Alright guys! let’s partner up!” you shout at them, giggling as they all rush towards you, you note how Bob lingers back behind his more extroverted friends and grin.

“I should clarify, I meant with each other.” You shoo them backwards and watch as they couple up.

Mickey and Reuben clap each other on the back and Javy and Jake nod at one another leaving Bob, stood on his own. You saunter towards him and grab at arm, dragging him to the front with you.

“Looks like you’re with me,” you tease.

“Uh, who do you want me to partner up with?” Bradley scratches at his head obliviously.

You cock your head to the side with a confused laugh.

“I hate you so much right now,” Nat spews, gripping Bradley’s arm and pulling him into position with her.

“Oh, yeah. Right, sorry Nat.” Bradley chuckles.

Your lessons continues with explaining how someone will have to take the lead and the other will follow, and you wander around positioning their hands and postures correctly.

“Javy, you are like a brother to me, but your hands are too fucking low right now.” Jake grits through this teeth.

“Right! Ha, sorry man,” Javy’s hands shoots back up towards the middle of Jake’s back.

Bob is still apprehensive when he places his hands on your waist, but you’re quick to affirm him in his position. Leaning towards him you whisper, “don’t worry you’re still my favourite.”

A smile graces his face at that and he relaxes in your grip.

“Right guys! We’re gonna start with some turns and variations now!”

You quickly learn that trying to wrangle these men is proving difficult, as Payback almost spins Fanboy into a wall after zoning out stating at how your hips moved.

“I’m good bro, don’t worry,” Mickey is quick to readjust himself, hoping the room stops spinning soon.

You can’t help but laugh when Javy attempts to dip Jake to the floor in a move he thought would impress you, but it seems he forgot to account for how tall and heavy Jake is, as he goes toppling down with him.

“Fuck dude! You’re heavy!” Javy groans, rubbing his knee. Jake clearly didn’t take kindly to his words as he shoves back at Javy childishly.

“Boys! Come on get up!” You snap, trying to sound stern but still fighting off giggles.

Jake and Javy are quick to get back on their feet, but you catch them in your peripheral poking and pinching each other when they think you aren’t looking.

Even Bradley who was so light on his feet when he was showing you his moves earlier, is clearly distracted, constantly stepping on Nat’s feet as they practice variations.

“If you step on my toe one more time, Rooster I swear to God, you will not see daylight again,” Nat threatens.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! She’s just so…” Bradley trails off as he watches you dance slowly with Bob, stopping every now and then to correct him kindly or answer questions from others in your class.

“I know! And you guys are scaring her off by acting crazy.” Nat sighs, moving back as she senses Bradley’s feet heading for her toes again.

“I mean I wouldn’t say crazy…” Bradley scratches the back of his neck.

“Well I walked in to see you spinning her around like you’re a pro on dancing with the stars so maybe you should reevaluate.”

“You think I’m that good?” Bradley smirks to himself.

“Oh shut up,” Nat rolls her eyes and looks back to the rest of her friends around the room.

Payback and Fanboy were continually stumbling around in circles as they each try to catch your eye, pissing off everyone else in the room as they bumped and knocked into others. She caught Marco and Luke’s judgy eyes flicking back and forth between her and her friends and groaned.

Jake and Javy looked either one wrong move away from fucking or fighting, Nat couldn’t really tell.

God this was embarrassing.

Luckily, your voice rings out across the room, interrupting her moping.

“Thank you guys for today! And Thank you to my newcomers!” you gesture to the group of men stumbling over each other and stifle a laugh.

“I’ll see you all next week!”

Your regular attenders start filing out slowly, some coming over to chat and collect their things. You can see Nat trying to drag her friends away out they seem intent on lingering long enough to catch some time alone with you.

“You guys might as well go, she clearly wants me.” Jake shrugs, pulling the front of his shirt up to wipe his face.

Mickey is quick to dispute, “Are you kidding me? I twirled like a ballerina, I’m so in.”

Nat is moments away from body slamming her friends who she once loved when it goes silent around her. She figures you finally made you way over.

“Hey guys, thanks so much for joining today! I’m really sorry I’ve got to get going but um- ”

You pause and sense eyes on you.

“Bob, I was just wondering if I could get your number?” you smile, walking towards him and squeezing his arm. “You know, to talk about how we can improve your technique,” your reasoning clear as day even with your coverup

“Yeah! Yes, of course I mean,” Bob composes himself, taking your phone with shaking hands and typing in his number.

“Great,” you wink, retrieving your phone, “I’ll text you.”

You end with that, sauntering past the group and waving goodbye to Nat with a knowing look.

Everyone seems stunned by your words, but mostly Bob who blinks slowly, seemingly still in shock by your acknowledgement.

Nat finally breaks into laughter, doubling over at the confused faces of her other friends.

“Man!” She shouts through her giggles, “you just cannot make that shit up!”

The grumbles around her don’t even phase her as she goes to pick up her bag and head for the door, a group of downtrodden looking men following her and Bob with a newfound pep in his step.

“By the way Rooster, how come you actually are so good?” Nat asks as they make their way into the parking lot.

Bradley stills, silent as he contemplates answering.

“If I tell you, you have to promise to not go searching for anything.” He looks around at his friends.

Following their nods he continues, “I used to compete professionally, when I was like 13, my mom forced me to.” Bradley cringes at the memory of his tween self in sparkly shirts his mom always hand picked out for him in the most hideous colours.

Bradley looks back up to see Jake grinning mischievously at his phone, and his stomach drops.

“Is this you?” Jake smirks, turning his phone around to show everyone an old video on youtube titled.

SALSA NATIONALS 1999 - BRADSHAW / DONNA SUMMER HOT STUFF

Bob suddenly felt as though his coughing fit over you wasn’t the most embarrassing thing he had to witness anymore.

a/n: it is great to be back gang xx i’ve missed writing and ofc i had to bring back the bob agenda!! it’s what i stand for :) i’m thinking mayhaps a part 2 where i explore the dynamic between sexy salsa teacher and bob bc atm this was just a chance for me to make fun of the daggers 😣

i hope you enjoyed reading and tysm!!

pls reblog, comment or drop me an ask and tell me what you thought!! feedback means sm to me considering i’m a lil rusty

anyways thank u again for reading!!!!

- honey xoxo

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I know it would probably bring a lot of hate comments but I am begging you to roast the hazbin character designs because I'd love to have someone properly articulate why they don't work so I could send it to people who won't believe me when I tell them. 🫠 Understandable if you don't want to get into it though.

I don't think there's that much there to roast, honestly?

Those designs are clearly an extremely specific stylistic choice, and because that style is consistent throughout the show, it ultimately feels coherent with itself.

There are trade-offs being made. Because Hazbin's design style is SO stylized and so heavy on decoration and detailing, because it puts a lot of emphasis on costuming, it isn't as good at communicating specific character storytelling as a more grounded style could be (it's kind of the same tradeoff that stuff like Genshin Impact makes).

Like, why does Sir Pentious' hat have an eye and a mouth on it that makes its own expressions? Apparently not for very much reason at all, except that Pentious has a bit of an eyes-motif going on in his design and it was one more place to put an extra eye. And that's a valid criticism of his design, but also the entire show is designed like that, so frankly it would be weirder and more out of place if his design alone didn't have that kind of overelaborate decoration going on.

It does create a situation where I have a hard time "reading" the character designs sometimes. For example, Vox, Alastor and Pentious all wear a similar style of suit with upwards-turned shoulders, butterflies and pinstripes. Now, am I meant to read that as Vox imitating Alastor due to his crippling need to replace and outdo him, and Pentious imitating the style of powerful Overlords because he thinks that possessing their level of power will finally give him relief from his paranoia and self-loathing?

Or is it just a design fixation of the creator who keeps putting their characters in suits because that's just what they like? I can't really be sure, because sometimes design elements are used to intentionally tell stories about how characters relate to themselves, their world and one another, but plenty of other times designs look the way they do Because Of Vibes.

But again, that lack of clarity is clearly an intentional trade-off - and the benefit of that trade-off is a design style that is extremely varied, wild, expressive and memorable. Hazbin Hotel seems like a very easy show to draw fanart of, and a very fun show to draw fanart of. Those designs (especially the hyper-expressive faces) are begging to be the subjects of traumatic headcanons, unbearably cotton-candy soft fluff fantasies and weird, taboo, homoerotic power dynamics. Slaps roof of character design, this bad boy can express so much vicarious emotional intensity.

It's very exuberant, very excited about itself and very self-indulgent, it's a style that prioritizes visual impact and visual interest over readability (something which the animators of the show navigate with real skill, props to them) and individual aesthetics over worldbuilding.

And I don't blame anyone for being turned off by that (I certainly was the first time I started seeing those designs going around), but I would struggle to call the show's designs "bad" when they are clearly achieving exactly what they want to achieve.

I have some criticisms, especially re: how the show treats skinny bodies as an unquestioned, desirable default, and employs fatness as a means of alienating and abjecting the audience. That sucks very badly, and is a serious disappointment, and one of the few places where the show feels like it is being cowardly in its design philosophy. But I don't have it in me to do some kind of Hazbin Hotel Sucks And Here's Why takedown, its problems are not unique or extreme enough to warrant it, at least not as I currently understand them.

[grison-in-space]

also, hot take, but speaking as someone who has volunteered to work on big projects tackling difficult issues out of community love in the past, I am just. is the otw probably a really toxic place to volunteer and work right now? Sure is, probably! Is public pressure that doesn't come with an influx of new people volunteering to do the messy work of figuring out what a better policy is, how to create anti harassment safeguards, and otherwise fixing the problem actually useful? Fuck no it is definitely not!

like I will be 1000% honest, I have in fact been asked personally to volunteer to help a community transition on a much smaller scale to fix problems of this magnitude to encourage a much smaller scale organization to work and perform a community service. and I took that job with a strong sense of "ye gods this is going to suck and I'm going to piss people off by doing things wildly imperfectly, but if I don't help provide my work it might not get done because this is fucking hard and no one is paying."

and I did it and I stopped as quickly as humanly possible. now that shit is someone else's volunteer problem and I'm delighted, because let us be real I'm a disabled middle aged lady with a day job and I don't have full time professional effort to dedicate to stuff I do in my spare time for free. that's one of the fun things about disability actually, it constricts the total store of focused labor hours available to me to put in, especially on landmine topics like extending the scope of my archiving projects to create a farsighted anti harassment policy that can't be weaponized.

so like. the work needs doing. anything anyone does is going to be imperfect and problematic and bad, because it is being done on an almost purely volunteer basis by people who are for whatever reason willing to donate high level professional skills and labor for free and don't need to do stuff for actual money and support instead. like sure the budget is enormous for servers but none of that goes to labor.

Outrage is going to do jack shit unless people volunteer to roll up their sleeves and start doing the work to donate a better policy, or better management. This shit is fucking difficult, exhausting, and impossible to do without pissing people off. I am damn sure not getting involved right now, and that's why I have not been commenting. Public pressure is not going to do jack shit if it didn't come with support.

If this is an issue that is important to you, you have to back up your outrage with resources. Since the AO3 does not exchange money for labor, that means showing up to offer to help build something different. as I said, I am a middle aged disabled lady who finds fandom and archive repositories to be important and helpful and I don't have any labor left to donate, so I have been reserving comment on complaint. If this is a thing that matters to you, congratulations! Public pressure is only useful insofar as it can be used to make the org let you help. It's up to you to actually help.

[11rosebunny]

Bofurin + shishitoren boys’ ideal partners? 🥺

Their ideal partners (BOFURIN + SHISHITOREN)

Haruka Sakura

A girl who is patient.

Sakura is known for his shy outbursts for anything that is closely related to anything in the romance. To add on, his lack of communication skills when he was younger came back to put a strain on his social life in his teenage years, so when it comes to finding a love life, he genuinely needs someone who is patient and willingly listen to his needs and requests.

When it comes to looks, he prefers more of a girl around his height, purely because he hates feeling inferior about his height. If you so happen to be taller than him, he has to suck it up.

Hajime Umemiya

A girl who respects everyone.

Something big on his preferences for women has to be someone that withstands practically everyone, even if they come across someone that disrespects them. The reasoning behind his outrageous input for girls he tends to put interest in is because he finds it important for a woman to balance her emotions. If he finds someone that continues to victimize themselves while being progressively perpetrating others, he can not stand that type of behaviour.

A second reason is because he wants them to be just as independent as himself while at the same time, treat him with more affection than others.

Looks don't exactly play a big role in his interests, even so, he still prefers women that are kept clean and pretty.

Toma Hiragi

Shy girls.

As much as he'd hate to admit, he finds timid, scared girls to be quite attractive. This hard core punk generally falls into the category of egotistical ballsacks that feed off of seeing a girl get embarrassed or shy around them, but in a respectful way. Usually, whenever he's come across the shyer type of women, he finds them to be more toned down, quiet, and deeply misunderstood just because they keep to themselves. He's the type of person to want to break those types of girls out of their shells, because deep down, he has a decent understanding that shy girls tend to be the nicest person anyone could meet in their entire lives.

He has a thing for girls with glasses which even adds on to his accusations of liking shy girls.

Ren Kaji

Strong-minded girls.

This boy loves the tangents and arguments whenever he's arguing with a hot-headed girl that's equally as heated as him. He thrives off of the fights and competitions with the other woman that still manages to somehow keep hot on his tail. As much as he hates the feeling, it's one of the very few things that gets him going to continue to become even better.

Girls with long hair fall into his types of preferences.

Taiga Tsugeura

Cheeky, cute girls.

He loves nothing more than a girl who loves doing girly things, because for him, he's a real man and would also be accompanying with you doing those girly things. If you're shopping he helps you pick out a dress. He'll even pay for your nails, buy you pink stuff, and even encourages you to wear different types of make-up sometimes. He's aware of how cheeky girls tend to act, and he really enjoys it too. He loves the way they blabber about utter nonsense that probably has no meaning to life or the way they get excited over small things like cats and sweet cakes.

Long eye lashes and plump lips are one of his top favourites in girls when it comes to features.

Mitsuki Kiryu

Academically smart girls.

He doesn't know the exact reason behind why he finds it attractive, but seeing a woman care a lot about her future and her next whereabouts makes him very intrigued. One of his deepest fears is being with someone that ties him down in life, especially how at any given moment, it could be ruined in a second. Thus, he primarily goes for girls that like to study and get into controversies that lead her to go into a spiral. He finds it amusing.

He likes wispy bangs and long noses. What an odd boy!

Hayato Suo

Energetic girls.

Nothing makes him more happier than seeing others happy. Knowing how monotone he could be, it makes him feel special whenever energetic people approach him and grow a bond. Hence why, when it comes to a girl showing her true personality knowing he's a quiet person, it makes him feel warm inside that someone like that would even give him a chance. He likes it when they drag him everywhere, try new things with him, and even make him go out of his own comfort zone.

He doesn't focus on looks, if you have short or long hair, glasses or none, taller or shorter, as long as you're fairly pretty, he's okay with anything.

Jo Togame

A girl who smiles a lot.

When it comes to personality, he actually does not mind whether or not if it's extraordinary or toned down, the only requirement is you can't be an asshole. He doesn't mix well with people who think too highly of themselves. Because he's not very picky and gives everyone a shot, something that really gets him going, is if a girl tends to smile a lot. It makes him want to punch holes if he sees your pearly whites.

Surprisingly, he likes tall girls. Can't be taller than him though, sorry.

Tomiyama Choji

Funny girls.

When meeting people that are interested in him, he usually finds boredom and loses lack of interest rather quickly because of his short attention span. So if a girl manages to catch his attention, 9 times out 10, it's because he heard something than made him caught off guard with a sudden burst of laughter. He loves spending his time chatting about random shananigans, so when meeting someone similar to him that can withstand his yapping and keep interested in the conversation, he can go on for hours just talking to you alone.

He finds petite girls to be cute, he doesn't really care for any of the curves or stretch marks of any sort. Bonus points if you have acne or freckles.

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

support needs… expanded! (part 1)

[pt: support needs… expanded! (part 1)]

low/medium/high support needs (& everything in between) get more awareness n talk about here, which great! you may able now remember support needs as amount of support someone need for basic & instrumental activities of daily living (bADLs & iADLs), n more n more of you able explain what bADLs iADLs are. if so, then, congrats, you graduated support needs 101! now, you need take next mandatory class… support needs 201 >:) where we talk about more concepts n expand on old concepts with more nuance.

.

adaptive functioning skills

[pt: adaptive functioning skills]

this very well known word in intellectual/developmental disability (I/DD) services circle, but think there things people with start-as-adult neurological & cognitive disabilities n people w physical disabilities can borrow too. this a thing talked here a few times briefly, but never know how explain it.

adaptive functioning skills are conceptual, social, & practical skills need for independent daily life. it includes bADLs & iADLs, but also bigger wider than that, n also include skills need for do these ADLs. some examples:

conceptual skills

reading/literacy & writing

understand numbers, money, time

self direction, plan, organize

social skills

listening & understanding others (communication)

talk to & communicate with others (communication)

recognize danger, avoid harm

ask for help

social responsibility, follow rules n laws

practical skills

personal care (bADLs & beyond)

caring for home (iADLs & beyond)

being in community

manage money

& so much more! sometimes skill belong in multiple category, move between category, different people group them differently, but this general idea.

each bullet point can (&often is) broken down to even smaller skills, from most basic skill many people don’t even consider it learned skill (but is! n many I/DD n otherwise disabled people struggle with), to more advanced ones. example:

under personal care > feeding (orally)

open mouth when fed

eat solid food

suck or chew food

feed self with spoon

feed self with fork

(now do those without spilling)

spread soft things like butter n jam with not-sharp knife

cut easy to cut food with knife (e.g. pancakes)

cut hard to cut food with knife (e.g meat)

under listening & understanding

looks at (familiar person) when hear their voice

looks when someone call own name

understand (e.g. at least 3) basic gestures (head nod yes, shake head no, reaching, waving, clapping, etc)

understand at least 10 words

look when other people point

point to (e.g) at least 3 object when asked

follow one step directions. then two related directions. if-then directions. then two unrelated directions. then three step directions. then directions for do something a lil later. then directions for something much much later. etc

pay attention to story for short amount time. pay attention to show for medium amount of time. pay attention to information talk for short amount of time. n understand it. etc

some examples of be in community skills

understand money used to buy thing, clock used to tell time

communicate with familiar people on phone/computer/etc - when other people place the call. n start by self

respect privacy, like use bathroom change clothes, not go through other people stuff

look both ways when cross road

understand symbols for danger, like 🚫, ⚠️, skull n crossbones for poison

follow cross road signs like walk/don’t walk

know how make call in emergency

use money buy small things. big things. use credit debit card. have bank account. have own credit debit card.

keep money n phone save when out

consider price n quality when buy things

travel independently to place been many times before. travel independently to new place.

buy grocery n household stuff when need. pay bill on time.

you see list start with easy, basic-of-the-basic skills. then get more complicated, next skill often depend on n build on previous skills. because it idea from I/DD services n professionals, list tend focus on development & developmental skills, & tend have cognitive focus. but, again, can see these be help for non-I/DD disabilities (& many I/DD people have comorbid physical & neurological disabilities to begin with!).

also because of I/DD focus, may see first few bullet points (or maybe most of the list) as easy, “well duh” skills you not think twice about, skills babies & toddlers learn that have nothing do with teens n adults. because this, you may see adaptive functioning as infantilizing or childish. but, they not infantilizing or childish at all—it reality that I/DD (& other disabilities), it affect babies n toddlers n children, developmentally delayed children who don’t have n struggling with n learning these skills. and, there plenty teens and adults (including older adults) with I/DD, cognitive disabilities, n other disabilities who do not have these skills.

—so, think it really helpful, even much needed, for disability allies & advocates & disabled people (if can) to read through more detail list of adaptive functioning skills. n while do that, remember, there people your age & older than you, who not able do these.

personally find this a lot more helpful than just bADLs & iADLs. because adaptive functioning more accurate include ALL skills need for daily life, from very small to more advanced. it more well rounded, n group in way make sense for own brain. (but that also make idea infinitely harder to explain for my brain for some reason)

next part, want talk about amount of support, & supported independence/modified independence

(edit: part 2 link here)

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part nine.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 714,148 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡

view all 9,147 comments

user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.

user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers

↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly

user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀

user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!

user she’s my photography inspo 🤩

user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist

↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does

user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏

user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained

user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating

↳ user OMG SAME

yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 214,051 others

tagged: mclaren

yourusername locked in and ready 😎

view all 1,514 comments

oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁

↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁

↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁

↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹

user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS

user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS

user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well

mclaren The boys are back in town!

↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?

↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍

↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌

↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘

user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…

↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera

↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀

↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS

↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.

↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.

↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔

↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.

user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions

↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that

user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire

user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡

user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on

↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her

jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒

↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous

Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.

“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”

You purse your lips.

Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.

But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.

“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.

It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.

The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.

You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.

If there’s one thing you���ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.

If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.

“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.

You wince at that.

Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”

You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”

Well.

You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.

Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.

He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.

Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.

There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.

He looks small.

Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.

The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.

You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.

You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.

“Quit that,” you snap.

“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.

You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”

“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”

You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.

Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.

You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”

He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”

If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.

But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.

The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.

“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.

Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”

This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.

This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning

You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”

“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”

You glare at him.

“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”

“Y/N…”

Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.

“I’m sorry━”

Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!

[konigsblog]

Okay but König’s mom being such a factor in making you stay in the relationship because you two end up being best friends and you become the daughter she never had. You’re staying for her, not him because you could never have the heart to tell her because it’ll break her heart to see you leave.

cw: non-con/dub-con, manipulation&coercion, afab!gn!reader.

loser-könig absolutely adores his mother, especially with what she's doing. she's not doing it on purpose, but for poor you, you don't have an escape out of this relationship... könig's dorkiness keeps you here with him regardless - although, he can become incredibly aggressive and hurtful when he doesn't get what he wants.

due to a lack of communication skills, he was never told ‘no’ as a kid. mostly because his mother had no reason to, and whenever he did something that would usually result in being punished, his mother was too exhausted after hours of work to discipline him.

so, when you explain to könig that you're too tired, or perhaps you're uncomfortable and on your period - or maybe you're just not in the mood - könig goes ballistic. he's used to getting what he wants, so he wouldn't hesitate to pin you down and take whatever he pleases.

the slickness of your sopping wet cunt was arousing for könig, whose body intimidated you, looming over you with threatening eyes, causing you to become silent and nervous. he'd fuck you with an agonising pace; slamming his sturdy hips against you while you howled out in pain, taking each inch of his hard, veiny cock whilst he grinned greedily. ;(

such a mess, he believes you deserve to be punished. when he's denied a blowjob, he uses manipulation and coercion as a technique instead, watching you unfasten his belt and lower yourself onto your knees like you should, sucking him off with your fingers wrapped tightly around his base.

[stardustedknuckles]

I was gonna put it in the tags of a post aabria made but didn't want to be like "hey also my thing!" on a serious post so like. She's pointed out that people's unwillingness to understand that people in the citadel have been and are being good to Suvi absolutely sucks ass and she's right. I admire Suvi as a character and Aabria as the player so much as someone who grew up in church - not just in it but of it. Dad was a pastor, I was in the choir, I taught classes, the whole shebang.

Almost everything about church was fucked to hell, looking back, and I'll carry damage and guilt from it for a longer time yet. Possibly forever. But the people I learned from, admired, befriended, and surrounded myself with were not evil colonizers looking to eradicate every other religion or force convert people or what have you. They were just people living under an ideology that did a whole lot of harm to people outside of it and demanded, as part of its tenets, that you restrict yourself from mingling too much with the Others lest you be confused and turn away from what is written. Hell the Citadel hasn't shown itself to be even that pervasive. I haven't heard a single person question Suvi's conviction to the work of the citadel because of the company she keeps.

Anyway my point is that there is absolutely no reason for Suvi to turn on or even grossly doubt the Citadel, questions about the spells on her nonwithstanding. Aabria is playing on a level of refusing to meta game that is incredible to watch and which makes her point of view very easy to relate to. Suvi's community is stepping up for her. Her friends love her, AND they are upset for valid reasons and puzzling through their own ways of looking at the world - ways that do not come with a manual/guide the way life at the Citadel does. Nothing has been laid before Suvi at this point that would warrant more than a few concerns, let alone full divestment from the Citadel and everyone else Suvi has ever loved, certainly not in the name of two people she would give her life for but who do not in any way have their shit together.

They're just people. Steel is a good person. She is kind, she is sincere, frighteningly intelligent, and a fierce advocate not only for those who are hers but those outside the citadel who deserve respect for the way they see the world and move through it.

Steel is also the right hand of the empire. That is, in fact, the point.

I'm sorry a lot of y'all can only handle stories that soothe hard choices with "well they were bad/mean to you/bigots anyway" and lay it on thick until the moment the character has had enough. That's not actually how any of this works and the realer view of how someone like Suvi would in fact view the world and her place in it is airtight. The chops on Aabria for sticking to it and on Brennan for refusing to mark citadel citizens as evil across the board (or hardly at all) is incredible and the refusal to entertain those ideas as a fan is in fact a skill issue in nearly every case.