#we did not have the money for a treasure like this

[letsgofullpogue]

I don't usually share my thoughts on the season here, I try to keep it more of an archive than anything, but this shit was a mess and I need to unpack it somewhere. Thoughts on season 4 below the cut.

Groff being JJ's father doesn't make any sense.

Before part two even came out, this little kernel of story rang so false for me. How does Luke wind up with a kook baby who "died" at sea? And the obvious answer is he had an affair with a kook, they had a baby, and, sure, she dies and he has to take care of the baby, leaving him bitter and alone and resentful of JJ. This is a reasonable expectation based on what we know of Luke thus far. But that's not what they're selling. Luke is a good-natured groundskeeper for the Genrettes, forming a light friendship with Larissa and bringing her little baby flowers to light up their days. Chandler, the baby's actual father, lurks in the background, seemingly jealous and controlling and not a fan of Luke. This completely stomps all over what we know to be true about Luke from the beginning, and really wipes out all the beautiful, horrifying work that Rudy and Gary did to build their relationship up until now. What a tragedy.

Why would Chandler kill Larissa and hand off the baby, pretending that he died? Was he hoping that Wes would take him under his wing and he would become the Genrette heir? Why not just keep his own baby with him, who would presumably be the real Genrette heir, coming into the money and property by way of guardianship when he inevitably killed Wes anyway? What's the deal with Chandler and Larissa? Did he marry her for money since he was a Pogue (more on that later)? Is this Foghorn Leghorn accent put on? Did he marry her specifically for her Blackbeard connections? Was it on the order of the Lupine Corsairs? Did he start working with them before he hooked up with Larissa? Was this all part of the plan? Why did Larissa keep her last name? Why in god's name do I care?

Watching Chandler play JJ the whole time requires us to believe that JJ is stupid, and JJ is not stupid. Impulsive, sure. Acts before thinking, absolutely, but not stupid. He's not going to get played this way (especially by a Kook), letting Chandler lock him in a mausoleum, giving him the necklace, giving Chandler his phone. It's insane. And driving around town in the Twinkie while being wanted? Still using their house and surf shop as home base for planning? Stupid stupid stupid.

The retread of scenes we've already done

Pope and Sarah in the tunnel with the rain is Kie in the sewer with the water flushing her out.

JJ and Chandler in the Twinkie is Big John and John B in the Twinkie, and just as bad. I thought they understood that was too much time away from the group, but what I've come to is that they don't actually understand anything.

Wasting too much time with a band of villains, see also last season. At least Singh had an interesting story that somewhat wove into the quest. These guys are just hired grunts. They're not on this hunt for themselves, they were hired to find the crown. Hired by who? And why do we care? They have a code that they live by, but we don't care that one of their faceless guys got killed and that they're out for revenge while pursuing the treasure. They get way too much screen time for us only have ten episodes.

Pope running from the Marines is Pope running from his scholarship interview, with higher stakes consequences that'll never be addressed, I'm sure.

Pope, John B, Cleo, and Sarah in the garage is John B in the garage in season one.

JJ wounded and floating in the water, just like in season two.

JJ and Kie talking about wishes while on watch is surf trip again. I was like, oh wow the chemistry is totally back here, and then I realized that it's fully leaning on the cadence of something that's already happened.

These are not parallels, this is bad writing. Or lazy writing. Or both.

High-stakes actions with no regard for consequences

Speaking of, they're constantly writing themselves into situations they can't get out of at this point. Last year, with JJ making deals with Barracuda Mike, big-time drug dealer, a thing that should have had huge consequences for reneging on the deal, but wound up with none. And in an even bigger 'this doesn't matter', he goes to Barracuda Mike's house this year and demands things of him? Wild and unbelievable.

This year, with JJ assaulting cops and destroying the town, for reasons that don't even really make sense. Wanted and on the run. How do you come back from that? (And a side note. JJ wasn't ever really a physically destructive presence, moreso destructive in the way that he has impulse control issues and acts before he thinks. But JJ has always been the type to take the beating, not start it. Happy to defend himself and his friends, but out of a feeling of usefulness and purpose in the group, not for funsies.)

Also this year with Pope, assaulting a cop, slipping his ankle monitor, and running away from the Marines. THE MARINES. Consequences should be looming, and who knows if we'll get there. But why set these kids on the run for the rest of their lives? The point is this place, the point is these kids. These beautiful idiots with bad luck and good hearts, just trying to get a win. What win is left? Evading jail? Revenge killing? What happened to our little boat show? This is a mess.

A family way

It's insane to me that they would chose to make Sarah pregnant in these circumstances that they've written them into, but then again, it's written by men who seem to have big-time mommy and daddy issues, so why am I surprised? I do feel like the best part of the season is that before John B even knew about the pregnancy, he was basically like I want to be done with this shit. He is not his father, he doesn't yearn for the adventure of it all. He wants to build a life, a normal life, and I wish we had had more time to sit with that and explore it for him.

The dialog

I don't know if it's that they're not improving as much anymore because of ~*reasons*~, but the dialog has gone completely down the tubes. In the last episode of the season, Kiara says "JJ hurry" over and over, at least 5 times in the span of like 15 minutes. When John B, Sarah, and Cleo are running from the Kooks, it's hurry, hurry, hurry. It's either that the writers simply aren't trying anymore or so much of the dialog was filled in with improv that now that everyone hates each other (she says casually and not addressing it at all), they're unwilling to play. Either way, that's their jobs. This show should be so fun to watch and it's becoming a drag.

The filters

I know everyone has complained about the colors of this show the whole time, but it's becoming unforgivable. The blue nighttime filter? I want to throw something at my tv every time they use it. Shoot at night??? Or on a stage? There are options that aren't the most awful fake-looking filters in the world, which, by the way, make watching on any smaller screen completely impossible. I miss those season one South Carolina sunsets. It feels like we've replaced most of those with a really harsh yellow filter that makes lighting people impossible.

Pogues vs. Kooks

That was the setup for this show, right? The haves and the have-nots? Two tribes, one island? Well, now almost every Kook is a Pogue and every Pogue is a Kook. They're muddling the message with bad results, because they still seem to want the tension and the storylines that result from it, but Chandler is a Pogue turned Kook, Ward was a Pogue turned Kook, so is Mike. JJ is a Kook turned Pogue, Rafe, RAFE of all people is working with the Pogues and engaged to one? With season five being the official last season, what will we be left with at the end of all this?

Interviews

So much of what they intended for this story, or what they want the audience to take from this story is told in interviews. I don't know if they're flat-out lying or they really think they nailed it in the telling. They say JJ is freaking out because he finds out he's a Kook, but that's not really what happened on screen, it seems more like he freaks out because their land is being taken from them and Luke's back and betraying them for a deal to keep him out of jail (yeah, not enough time spent on that). That JJ dying was the plan from the beginning which I don't believe was the case for one single second. "JJ is super jealous", where? Show me where because he barely glances at Kiara the entire second half of the season. They're two unsupervised children, dating, living in the same house, who barely ever touch, nevermind kiss. You're making this shit up to get the fans in a frenzy about it and not delivering in the telling.

The biggest fuck you

JJ dying. If talk is to be believed (and I do believe it) Rudy asked to leave and the Pates granted this request by killing him. I'm pissed as hell that the Rudy/Elaine/Madison/Mariah whatever it was ruined a truly great character and couple (the thing that brought me to this show in the first place) and I'm also pissed that it was written this way. Their right as writers and showrunners, I guess. BUT. There is a way to do this and have it make narrative sense and spur the story on and it is their job as writers to figure that out. What they did was strap him with an insane storyline about biological parents that makes no sense, act completely out of character for much of the season, have him pick up a drinking problem that he's never had before (becoming a liability for his friends), and have his new daddy kill him with a 1-inch blade in retribution for *checks notes* not letting him out of a well? Oh, and having his friends bury him in an unmarked grave in a land far from home, a home that they really can't even return to without some of them going to jail for a long time. And now they're out for revenge, as suggested by Rafe.

What is season five going to be? Losing JJ (and Jiara by extension) is a devastating loss for this show. Saddling John B and Sarah with a kid on the way while on the run and actively pursuing very bad people is irresponsible. How can we bring it on home in a way that honors these characters and makes sense of the mess they made of this story? How can we bring it on home at all? I'm not sure, but I guess we'll find out when the time comes. Lord knows, I'll be here until the bitter end.

[just-ghaleon]

I have a new treasure. OuO

It's kinda gross and grubby, here's before and after I gave it an aggressive rubbing alcohol scrubdown:

The ebay seller offered me a tiny discount, $38 down from $40 (+shipping and taxes :p) and I was reeeeeeally depressed (it was last Wednesday) so I caved. This might be the least amount of money I've spent on an English language Lunar book, the prices have been nuts for over a decade and they just continue to get crazier. :B

Anyway, as gross as the cover is, and as theoretically nice as it would be to have a minty unblemished copy.... this pre-owned copy has REAL ACTUAL TREASURE inside!!

First of all, I noticed that every page of the guide has been lovingly annotated with the locations of every item in the game. In purple ink! My favorite!

Then I noticed something funny at the beginning of the book:

I'd just woken up not long before I went down to pull in my mail, so my groggy thought process when I saw this went roughly as such:

Gee, Sandwich Islands Publishing sure cheaped out on the color printing.... wait, that's from SSSC not TSS... is this a reprint--no that's stupid... OH. THE ORIGINAL OWNER GLUED SCREENCAPS FROM SSSC IN HERE!!!!!!!! OMG AHAHAHAHAHA YESSSSS

They went all out!

But the REAL ACTUAL TREASURE? Whoever did this was also a huge Ghaleon fan, like myself:

That's just special right there, you don't get to feel loving connections to gamers of the past like this with mint condition books.

The world might be a constant roiling shitshow, but... the compulsion to be creative never dies. So long as we keep making silly things with love in our hearts, I think we can get through the worst of the crap.

Whoever owned this book before me, thank you for your hard work. I hope you're doing okay, wherever you are.

[shifterglitter]

Another shifter mentioning their Xena dr. That got me reminiscing about my favorite badass. Just so you all know, it's this little girls dreams that are coming true when I eventuality shift to my Warrior Princess DR.

[theygender]

Apparently my job incorrectly changed my state on my W4 without my knowledge or consent last year and now I owe a LOT of money in unpaid state taxes since they weren't withholding them from my paycheck like they were supposed to 😭

[blujayonthewing]

thinkin again about the time elyss's DM cut in to stop a conversation between her and a semi-retired player character to hurriedly take back control of him as an NPC before he could give her, as an extremely kind and thoughtful gift, one of his own personal belongings, and then said 'elyss can probably buy it from him though :)' instead

like. what an egregiously fucking shitty thing to do, actually.

[dunmesh]

this panel from the world guide of falin being surrounded by other girls while laios is all alone kills me because. that's it. that's the key difference in their journeys.

as laios states himself, he left the village in order to create a home for him and falin elsewhere. a home that won't collapse due to others' hatred and fears like their old home did, a home where they are loved and accepted unconditionally. but as he soon found out, even before earning money, or having walls surrounding him and a roof above his head- what he so earnestly desired was to meet other people who will accept him for who he is as well. instead, he kept being tormented by those around him, shunned and sneered at. his loneliness quickly became all-consuming until he truly had nothing left except for the monsters in the pages of his book, but even that became a target of mockery and destroyed. that's why ever since the day he left the village, he never felt that he truly made the right choice. so he kept running away: unable to resist and unable to accpet.

and an ocean away from him there was his sister, who never managed to fully fit in herself. but unlike him, she met a person who became a home to her and learned what a true friendship was for the first time in her life. and laios clearly realizes that too when he finally sees falin and marcille together, he can tell his sister obtained the greatest treasure there is on her own- the exact thing he never managed to find anywhere himself, thus coming back empty-handed to the sister he left the village for.

but when you read this part of the manga, laios's focus is on falin's loneliness, not his own. he talks about how it hurts thinking about all those moments she had to spend alone because he wasn't there for her, so it almost sounds like he's the one who couldn't bear her suffering and therefore decided to not let her go again. but we do get a glimpse of their first meeting after that almost-decade long separation in the manga, and then we see more of that in the world guide and daydream hour- and it becomes abundantly clear that it was falin who was trying to protect and save him from this pit of loneliness and depression he was in.

so instead of just doing his best to atone for leaving her behind in the village and making sure she is never lonely again, it might also be that laios was desperately clinging to the one person in the world he felt that accepted and loved him unconditionally. those words he used to describe his motivation to stay by falin's side are the exact words she would've used as well; she couldn't bear leaving him behind in this state. in a sense, they were each other's shackles.

but then she did. she died for him and their friends, and ironically enough, it was by leaving him alone like this that he was finally able to stand on his own and put his full trust in others. to have the courage to reveal who he is and give others the opportunity to accept him after such a long time of hiding. it was a long journey, but his hiding finally came to an end when he faced the others after shedding his monster form. and i love that the person who was falin's "home" all those years away from laios, marcille, became just as meaningful to him during their time separated from falin- the first one to find him and show him that he isn't alone anymore. just as he did for her.

so at the end of the story when falin talks about all the places she would like to go, it's not just that she wants to pursue her own dreams- but that she actually feels free to do so and go anywhere she desires. and one of the main reasons for that is that her brother finally found new people he wants to be with; his own home.

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

masterlist

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he could do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never be an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both your eyes fall to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved how it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the hair pieces up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt, and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star-shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet," he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up at the gala last weekend." one of the grey-haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[ellecdc]

request for a fic where reader is absolutely spoiled by her boys? (can be absolutely any pairing you like poly!marauders x reader, wolfstar, poly!moonwater x reader, Bartylus x reader…..literally anything)

the boys love to spoil her with gifts, breakfast in bed, shopping trips, outings etc, (not necessarily expensive, just doting), even if one of the boys is less inclined they're along for the ride, and perhaps somewhat exasperated by all the antics

…can you tell my love language is gift giving and receiving?

feel free to add more plot because the prompt is quite broad? but do whatever you want my love!

I trust you with my life <3

*tip-toes in* hiii there *side steps through the door* hellooo.... *awkwardly places this fic in front of you from your request back in March* thanks so much for your request (and patienceeee) - no but in all reality, I knew from the second I got this request that it had to be these two - I hope I did it justice!! xx

poly!rosekiller x fem!reader who they love to spoil [743 words]

CW: extravagant & expensive gift giving as a love language, reader tries to be mad at them about it (she fails, though)

“Not so fast!” You said instead of hello, fighting the snicker that threatened to undermine your severity as you watched Barty and Evan stop in their tracks like they’d been frozen on the spot. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The two boys shared a sideways glance before Evan slowly relaxed his stance. “Well-”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Treasure.” Barty interrupted swiftly, giving off an air of faux nonchalance as he placed the shopping bags he had in his hands on the side of the bed and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “What are we doing for dinner tonight? What are we doing about climate change? What are we doing with our lives? It’s too broad a question.” 

“Barty.” You scolded him. 

“Y/N.” He replied.

“Evan.” You tried instead.

“Yes, sugar?” He responded salaciously.

You closed your eyes and heaved a breath; they made it so difficult to be mad at them. “What did you two buy?”

Evan’s face spread into a cheshire cat smile. “Funny you should ask, darling.” And with a flourish, he and Barty unceremoniously dumped the bags out onto the bed leaving it covered in a menagerie of clothes, bags, perfumes, and what appeared to be boxes of jewellery. 

“But why?” You beseeched anxiously instead of saying thank you; feeling your face flush at the very loud and very expensive expression of appreciation now littering your bed. 

“Uhm, because we love you?” Barty answered as if that was somehow a trick question and he couldn’t believe it was actually that easy to answer.

“This is too much.” You responded.

“Says who?” Evan queried.

“Me.”

Barty snorted. “How’s it feel to be wrong, then?”

“Barty.”

“I don’t understand what the problem is!” He continued, raising his hands helplessly. “We have a lot of money, we have great taste, and we have you; ergo…” He said, finishing his statement by gesturing vaguely at the pile of gifts they’d purchased. 

“Great taste indeed.” Evan agreed as he held a dress up against you. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Ev, there is hardly any fabric on this dress.” You argued, causing his face to pinch in thought.

“Hm, you’re right. Okay, we can return that one if you don’t like it.” He said before shoving the dress back into one of the various bags. 

You let your eyes trace the rest of the garments littering your bed wondering if you might be able to convince them to return the rest of it too.

“No, we cannot return it all. Don’t be rude, babydoll.” Evan reprimanded, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and chidingly patting you on the arse.

“Do you like this one, Tres? I picked it because I thought it’d bring out your eyes.” Barty asked then, holding up an outfit with no shortage of excitement in his eyes that finally forced a smile from you. 

“It’s very nice, Bee; thank you.” You relented, running your fingers along the fabric up to the price tag, only to have it yanked from your grasp before you could see how much it cost.

“Perfect.” He said quickly, pulling the tag from the garment and shoving it into his pocket. “You can wear this one tonight; we have reservations at the new restaurant downtown at 8:30!”

Silence returned to the room once they both left and you let out a slow breath, shaking your head in fondness as you looked at the many gifts they’d splurged on for you. 

There wasn’t even any reason, which always somehow made it feel that much more special; they didn’t go out shopping because it was your birthday or a holiday; they simply went shopping because they were thinking of you, saw things you might like, and bought it just because they could. 

You were a lucky girl, and you’d go so far as to call yourself spoiled, which you were sure was exactly what Evan and Barty wanted you to be even if you made it quite difficult to do so. 

“Oh, and if you do wear that outfit Barty picked out tonight,” Evan added, sticking his head in the doorway, “there’s a matching Hermés bag to go with it, too.”

He didn’t even have a chance to see your mouth open in shock or hear your horrified “Evan!” before he was shutting the door behind him and taking off down the hall.

Spoiled indeed.

[simpingland]

Heyy beauty!

Can i request a Harwin break my back Strong x wife Targaryen reader fic where he beats the shit out of someone who disrespects her. He gets out of it with no consequences, reader looks after him & it ends in smut💋

(I'd appreciate it if u could do more Harwin fics cause lord knows I'm thirsty for it😭)

How to fix an aching nose.// Ser Harwin Strong x Targ!Wife!Reader. Smut.

Summary: Harwin cant believe his luck, married to a targaryan princess, being completely in love with her, her being madly in love with him...Not many believe his luck neither. Only his wife can prove him that its all real.

Warnings: p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), a Lannister being punch.

Harwin was more than anxious to have you, his dearest wife, alone for more than the few moments you were allowed, to what extent could he reminisce about your wedding night? His mind was elsewhere during the hunt, listening only to his father's instructions, and ignoring the lords. Ever since he married you, he had felt the looks they gave him, full of envy of course. Few dared little more than stare, the stupidest could dare to vocalise it. And Lord Tyland Lannister was one of those fools.

"I see you are distracted, Ser Harwin," said the Lord with a mocking laugh as he watched the stag slip away from him at close range. "Marriage...always has the same effect on men."

He chuckled, a few laughed with him, but most gave him a dirty look, and Harwin set his spear aside.

"What effect do you mean, Ser Tyland?" he asked dryly.

"Well, the effect of women. They are a constant headache."

"I don't think you should speak so of wives when you haven't managed to marry a single woman since you've been at court, my lord." He wanted to leave it at that, but Tyland had taken offense.

"When one wields so much fortune, choosing a wife to entrust to him is a different task. I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about now, Ser Harwin."

Harwin walked toward him, towering over him. It clearly frightened him.

"I don't need to brag about money to show my wealth. And that I think if you are able to understand."

Tyland was silent for a second. Everyone had turned to watch the scene, except your father, the King, who was too sore to pay attention. None of them listened as your father asked for your presence to escort him to his tent without making a fuss. So Harwin turned to continue the hunt without being aware that his own wife was walking towards the scene. Neither was Lord Lannister.

"You certainly took a treasure for the little price you must have paid...you took a very possible wife from me." Tyland was whispering it to Harwin now, purposely irritating him. "Though...perhaps you did me a favor. A princess who chooses someone like you should not be driven by anything but lust and madness. Maybe your wife is a lot cheaper than we all thought."

Then Harwin exploded. With the first fist he knocked out two of Tyland's molars, and with the second he buried him in the mud. None of Ser Lyonel's orders were heard as he tore Tyland apart, only the insults towards you, raging. They tried to pull him away, but he was still there. And there you found him.

"HARWIN!" You shouted, running towards him. It took him a while to notice you, he looked at you, a little frightened that you had seen him be so savage.

"He insulted you" he said quietly, then looked at Tyland "YOU INSULTED THE PRINCESS!"

And he gave him one last kick before he was pushed away by the guards. He had to be pushed away until he was led out of the hunt, and he only looked at you, begging your forgiveness for the disturbance. Your father was disoriented, and only understood what was happening from the words of one of the guards. And you had to wait to get your father to his bed before you met Harwin.

"What happened?" you asked as you entered your tent. Harwin was waiting for you, on his back and standing. When he turned around you saw his nose was bleeding. You ran to wipe it. "Gods! Did Tyland do that to you?"

"He wishes it was him, my love...it was one of the guards."

"I suppose it's because you've hit him first, isn't it?"

He smiled, because he knew you as well as you knew him. And he watched your concern disappear with every second, seeing your smile again.

"I'm not going to let anyone walk all over me. Not me, not you," he said, kissing your neck as he hugged you, lifting you off the ground and pressing you against his chest.

"Oh, Harwin, and why do you say that?"

You wiped the blood from him as he told you the story. It was starting to bruise a little, but had stopped bleeding after he put a cold cloth on it, holding it patiently and letting it play with the ties of your dress.

"I don't want you to think I'm just a... a beast too. I hold my anger a lot more than you think. Only you make me feel at peace, wife." He ran his hand through your hair.

It certainly hadn't been easy to convince your father. The Strongs were beloved at court, but Harrenhal was not a place of good repute, and marrying the King's second daughter to a notorious brute like Harwin "Breakbones" Strong had caused much controversy. You succeeded after years of hiding in the corridors, and every night Harwin could only draw on his imagination to do more than kiss you, for he had always put your reputation and honour before his desires.

You had only been married a short time, but it had been a season since you two had spent time alone. Your elder sister Rhaenyra was keeping you by her side at night, uncomfortable with her first pregnancy, and in the mornings, Harwin was too busy catching up on his duties as heir to Harrenhal.

Still, it didn't take away a single ounce of excitement, you craved each other throughout the day, and Harwin always managed to pull you aside to talk or kiss you. Either was enough for him, but he really wanted you back in his bed.

"You don't look like a beast to me." You put your hands on his neck, sat on his lap, you could feel his bulge on your leg. "And even if you had looked like one, you forget I've never been the person who holds his reputation in the highest regard, remember?"

They smiled, Harwin remembered in fact, more than once he had had to push you out of his sight because you had guided his hand where maidens should not be touched, all before you were married. You kissed him first, and when he was training you watched him from your window, catching his eye and "accidentally" showing your breasts. In the dark of night he had to pick you up off the floor because you had knelt before him. And in between all those moments Harwin couldn't help but be captivated by you, begging the King for your hand.

"I remember everything. You are far more beastly than I, my wife..." His member began to grow as he remembered, your scent right there, he captured your lips.

"You have offended me," you faltered, pulling away from the kiss. "Show me who the beast is here, Ser Breakbones."

One swift movement and he unfastened the bodice of your dress, freeing your breasts, and brought one to his lips. And as it sank to your chest you giggled at his eagerness, enjoying the tingle that formed on your legs as you felt Harwin's saliva run over your tits.

"Do you find this amusing, my princess? Having me sit here?" He ran his hands under your skirt, stroking your pearl as if by accident, but you knew he wasn't, that he was doing it to ravish you.

"I do find it a bit funny, I'm afraid..."

He stilled your laughter by throwing you onto the bed they had set up for you. Remarkably smaller than the one in your room back in the Keep, but Harwin didn't plan to use it much. He removed what was left of your dress, leaving you now completely naked. Your body being a spectacle for him.

"Well I'm no clown, of the many tricks they know how to do, I doubt very much they know how to do this."

He rested one hand on the bed, circling you on top of you, and the other he used to turn you, your back, your ass facing the outside. He caressed your back, stroke both cheeck of your ass and finally touching your cunt. One finger entered first, stirring your discharge with your clitoris and eliciting a soft moan from you. He watched you watching him, mouth half open. He was so handsome, with his smooth coat but rugged features, Harwin was all man. He inserted a second finger, and the third was not long in coming. Then he began to shake his hand rapidly, lifting your entire pelvis to his rhythm. You couldn't help but cry out as you felt such continuous pleasure.

"No..." whispered Harwin, pulling his face closer to yours, "no one knows how to do this to you like I do..."

Pleasure engulfed you, and Harwin could see you come to orgasm, you moaned millimetres from his lips, which he felt as if it was feeding him. He let you rest, and before he could lick his fingers with your arousal, you took his hand to lick them for him. If he was already excited before, Harwin had to hold back a moan when he felt the friction of his own pants squeezing his erection.

"Now let me reward you, my Lord, for defending my honour..." you removed his shirt, and kissed his big abs. But you made him suffer as you reached for his trousers, unbuttoning them bit by bit, not until you had removed them completely did you focus on his member.

Fat and in proportion to your husband, his cock needed two hands to massage it well. First you gave him a little kiss on the tip, as if in greeting, and looked up at Harwin, who seemed impatient but loved your gaze as you knelt before him. You were beautiful from every angle, and your eyes sharpened from that perspective. He pushed your silver hair aside as an excuse to touch it, and he never pushed your head, you always managed to make him enjoy at your own pace. You licked the tip for a while, but before he could cum, you took as much of his cock into your mouth as you could, knowing which way to guide it so you wouldn't gag. You sucked slowly but intensely, using your cheeks to make your mouth tighter. You were just about to make him cum when Harwin decided to take the reins again.

He caught you by surprise when he pulled away from you to pick you up off the floor, placing you in his arms as he did when he rescued you from troubles you usually got yourself into. One arm around your back and the other around your legs, your hands resting on his shoulders and with the opportunity to kiss him right there. Indeed, you didn't need the bed very much. You didn't quite understand what Harwin was up to, but when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, your hair stood on end. He was moving slowly up and down you, preparing to bury himself all the way in.

"I am convinced that there is no better pussy than yours in all of Westeros, Princess..." his voice was husky, his scent captivated you, and he kissed you tenderly when he wasn't kissing you with tongue.

"So what are you waiting for to enjoy it?"

He lured you to his lips to distract you, but you finally felt him enter. Gently, but creating that special fraction you'd longed for for years before you were married. Harwin broke the kiss to moan, of course this was his favourite part of fucking. He didn't usually do it fast, he liked to pace himself, and for such a big, rough man, he liked to sink into your pussy delicately, whether it was his instinct to protect you, or his instinct to enjoy it. His hips set the pace, as he raised them, his arms lowered, and you felt his full length fill you. He began to speed up the rhythm, he had plenty of strength left, and when he increased you could hear him enjoying himself, making you enjoy yourself.

"I'm going to cum...I'm going to cum..." he announced.

Then he laid you back down on the bed. You had no plans to have children yet, so you liked to experiment a little. Harwin positioned your legs apart, and took out his cock to rub it against your clit, fucking your vaginal lips and causing you unparalleled pleasure. You had your second orgasm seconds before you felt Harwin's semen spilling out of your pelvis, with a sweet moan leaving your husbands lips.

He rested his forehead on yours, and you kissed his aching nose.

"Wow...you sure made me feel better, wife." He moved to your side, pulling a blanket over you both, cuddeling you in his arms.

"Yeah...I've missed you too."

"I meant the kiss on the nose...but the rest was good too."

You laughed before threatening to make it bleed again. Harwin was willing to take a million punches as long as his princess was there to kiss his wounds afterwards.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google’s new phones can’t stop phoning home

On OCTOBER 23 at 7PM, I'll be in DECATUR, presenting my novel THE BEZZLE at EAGLE EYE BOOKS.

One of the most brazen lies of Big Tech is that people like commercial surveillance, a fact you can verify for yourself by simply observing how many people end up using products that spy on them. If they didn't like spying, they wouldn't opt into being spied on.

This lie has spread to the law enforcement and national security agencies, who treasure Big Tech's surveillance as an off-the-books trove of warrantless data that no court would ever permit them to gather on their own. Back in 2017, I found myself at SXSW, debating an FBI agent who was defending the Bureau's gigantic facial recognition database, which, he claimed, contained the faces of virtually every American:

https://www.theguardian.com/culture/2017/mar/11/sxsw-facial-recognition-biometrics-surveillance-panel

The agent insisted that the FBI had acquired all those faces through legitimate means, by accessing public sources of people's faces. In other words, we'd all opted in to FBI facial recognition surveillance. "Sure," I said, "to opt out, just don't have a face."

This pathology is endemic to neoliberal thinking, which insists that all our political matters can be reduced to economic ones, specifically, the kind of economic questions that can be mathematically modeled and empirically tested. It would be great if all our thorniest problems could be solved like mathematical equations.

Unfortunately, there are key elements of these systems that can't be reliably quantified and turned into mathematical operators, especially power. The fact that someone did something tells you nothing about whether they chose to do so – to understand whether someone was coerced or made a free choice, you have to consider the power relationships involved.

Conservatives hate this idea. They want to live in a neat world of "revealed preferences," where the fact that you're working in a job where you're regularly exposed to carcinogens, or that you've stayed with a spouse who beats the shit out of you, or that you're homeless, or that you're addicted to Oxy, is a matter of choice. Monopolies exist because we all love the monopolist's product best, not because they've got monopoly power. Jobs that pay starvation wages exist because people want to work full time for so little money that they need food-stamps just to survive. Intervening in any of these situations is "woke paternalism," where the government thinks it knows better than you and intervenes to take away your right to consume unsafe products, get maimed at work, or have your jaw broken by your husband.

Which is why neoliberals insist that politics should be reduced to economics, and that economics should be carried out as if power didn't exist:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/05/farrago/#jeffty-is-five

Nowhere is this stupid trick more visible than in the surveillance fight. For example, Google claims that it tracks your location because you asked it to, by using Google products that make use of your location without clicking an opt out button.

In reality, Google has the power to simply ignore your preferences about location tracking. In 2021, the Arizona Attorney General's privacy case against Google yielded a bunch of internal memos, including memos from Google's senior product manager for location services Jen Chai complaining that she had turned off location tracking in three places and was still being tracked:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/01/you-are-here/#goog

Multiple googlers complained about this: they'd gone through dozens of preference screens, hunting for "don't track my location" checkboxes, and still they found that they were being tracked. These were people who worked under Chai on the location services team. If the head of that team, and her subordinates, couldn't figure out how to opt out of location tracking, what chance did you have?

Despite all this, I've found myself continuing to use stock Google Pixel phones running stock Google Android. There were three reasons for this:

First and most importantly: security. While I worry about Google tracking me, I am as worried (or more) about foreign governments, random hackers, and dedicated attackers gaining access to my phone. Google's appetite for my personal data knows no bounds, but at least the company is serious about patching defects in the Pixel line.

Second: coercion. There are a lot of apps that I need to run – to pay for parking, say, or to access my credit union or control my rooftop solar – that either won't run on jailbroken Android phones or require constant tweaking to keep running.

Finally: time. I already have the equivalent of three full time jobs and struggle every day to complete my essential tasks, including managing complex health issues and being there for my family. The time I take out of my schedule to actively manage a de-Googled Android would come at the expense of either my professional or personal life.

And despite Google's enshittificatory impulses, the Pixels are reliably high-quality, robust phones that get the hell out of the way and let me do my job. The Pixels are Google's flagship electronic products, and the company acts like it.

Until now.

A new report from Cybernews reveals just how much data the next generation Pixel 9 phones collect and transmit to Google, without any user intervention, and in defiance of the owner's express preferences to the contrary:

https://cybernews.com/security/google-pixel-9-phone-beams-data-and-awaits-commands/

The Pixel 9 phones home every 15 minutes, even when it's not in use, sharing "location, email address, phone number, network status, and other telemetry." Additionally, every 40 minutes, the new Pixels transmit "firmware version, whether connected to WiFi or using mobile data, the SIM card Carrier, and the user’s email address." Even further, even if you've never opened Google Photos, the phone contacts Google Photos’ Face Grouping API at regular intervals. Another process periodically contacts Google's Voice Search servers, even if you never use Voice Search, transmitting "the number of times the device was restarted, the time elapsed since powering on, and a list of apps installed on the device, including the sideloaded ones."

All of this is without any consent. Or rather, without any consent beyond the "revealed preference" of just buying a phone from Google ("to opt out, don't have a face").

What's more, the Cybernews report probably undercounts the amount of passive surveillance the Pixel 9 undertakes. To monitor their testbench phone, Cybernews had to root it and install Magisk, a monitoring tool. In order to do that, they had to disable the AI features that Google touts as the centerpiece of Pixel 9. AI is, of course, notoriously data-hungry and privacy invasive, and all the above represents the data collection the Pixel 9 undertakes without any of its AI nonsense.

It just gets worse. The Pixel 9 also routinely connects to a "CloudDPC" server run by Google. Normally, this is a server that an enterprise customer would connect its employees' devices to, allowing the company to push updates to employees' phones without any action on their part. But Google has designed the Pixel 9 so that privately owned phones do the same thing with Google, allowing for zero-click, no-notification software changes on devices that you own.

This is the kind of measure that works well, but fails badly. It assumes that the risk of Pixel owners failing to download a patch outweighs the risk of a Google insider pushing out a malicious update. Why would Google do that? Well, perhaps a rogue employee wants to spy on his ex-girlfriend:

https://www.wired.com/2010/09/google-spy/

Or maybe a Google executive wins an internal power struggle and decrees that Google's products should be made shittier so you need to take more steps to solve your problems, which generates more chances to serve ads:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

Or maybe Google capitulates to an authoritarian government who orders them to install a malicious update to facilitate a campaign of oppressive spying and control:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragonfly_(search_engine)

Indeed, merely by installing a feature that can be abused this way, Google encourages bad actors to abuse it. It's a lot harder for a government or an asshole executive to demand a malicious downgrade of a Google product if users have to accept that downgrade before it takes effect. By removing that choice, Google has greased the skids for malicious downgrades, from both internal and external sources.

Google will insist that these anti-features – both the spying and the permissionless updating – are essential, that it's literally impossible to imagine building a phone that doesn't do these things. This is one of Big Tech's stupidest gambits. It's the same ruse that Zuck deploys when he says that it's impossible to chat with a friend or plan a potluck dinner without letting Facebook spy on you. It's Tim Cook's insistence that there's no way to have a safe, easy to use, secure computing environment without giving Apple a veto over what software you can run and who can fix your device – and that this veto must come with a 30% rake from every dollar you spend on your phone.

The thing is, we know it's possible to separate these things, because they used to be separate. Facebook used to sell itself as the privacy-forward alternative to Myspace, where they would never spy on you (not coincidentally, this is also the best period in Facebook's history, from a user perspective):

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3247362

And we know it's possible to make a Pixel that doesn't do all this nonsense because Google makes other Pixel phones that don't do all this nonsense, like the Pixel 8 that's in my pocket as I type these words.

This doesn't stop Big Tech from gaslighting* us and insisting that demanding a Pixel that doesn't phone home four times an hour is like demanding water that isn't wet.

*pronounced "jass-lighting"

Even before I read this report, I was thinking about what I would do when I broke my current phone (I'm a klutz and I travel a lot, so my gadgets break pretty frequently). Google's latest OS updates have already crammed a bunch of AI bullshit into my Pixel 8 (and Google puts the "invoke AI bullshit" button in the spot where the "do something useful" button used to be, meaning I accidentally pull up the AI bullshit screen several times/day).

Assuming no catastrophic phone disasters, I've got a little while before my next phone, but I reckon when it's time to upgrade, I'll be switching to a phone from the @calyxinstitute@mastodon.social. Calyx is an incredible, privacy-focused nonprofit whose founder, Nicholas Merrill, was the first person to successfully resist one of the Patriot Act's "sneek-and-peek" warrants, spending 11 years defending his users' privacy from secret – and, ultimately, unconstitutional – surveillance:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2013/03/depth-judge-illstons-remarkable-order-striking-down-nsl-statute

Merrill and Calyx have tapped into various obscure corners of US wireless spectrum licenses that require major carriers to give ultra-cheap access to nonprofits, allowing them to offer unlimited, surveillance-free, Net Neutrality respecting wireless data packages:

https://memex.craphound.com/2016/09/22/i-have-found-a-secret-tunnel-that-runs-underneath-the-phone-companies-and-emerges-in-paradise/

I've been a very happy Calyx user in years gone by, but ultimately, I slipped into the default of using stock Pixel handsets with Google's Fi service.

But even as I've grown increasingly uncomfortable with the direction of Google's Android and Pixel programs, I've grown increasingly impressed with Calyx's offerings. The company has graduated from selling mobile hotspots with unlimited data SIMs to selling jailbroken, de-Googled Pixel phones that have all the hardware reliability of a Pixel, coupled with an alternative app suite and your choice of a Calyx SIM and/or a Calyx hotspot:

https://calyxinstitute.org/

Every time I see what Calyx is up to, I think, dammit, it's really time to de-Google my phone. With the Pixel 9 descending to new depths of enshittification, that decision just got a lot easier. When my current phone croaks, I'll be talking to Calyx.

Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.

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/2024/10/08/water-thats-not-wet/#pixelated

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

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[mcflymemes]

THE MUMMY (1999) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the river!

by the way... why did you kiss me?

it seemed like a good idea at the time.

that's called stealing, you know.

is it dangerous?

stop it! you'll kill them!

get me a glass of bourbon.

this just keeps getting better and better.

this door doesn't open.

who opened that chest?

i only want four!

the map! i forgot the map!

i think he's filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. i don't like him one bit.

i guess we go home empty-handed... again.

look what i got.

i think you found something.

what exactly is this man in prison for?

you just got promoted.

you're with me on this one, right?

keep him busy.

we are in serious trouble.

this creature is the bringer of death.

you must not read from the book!

where are they taking him?

there's only one person i know that can possibly give us any answers.

can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of flimflam?

i'm a very lonely man.

look at my library!

you're gonna get yours, [name]!

never did like camels.

what do you suppose killed him?

time to go.

take my hand, and i will spare your friends.

will you look at that?

do they know something we don't?

i need a new job.

have you no respect for the dead?

i've dreamt about this since i was a little girl.

you dream about dead guys?

patience is a virtue.

any last requests?

loosen the knot and let me go.

i don't think we need to know this.

ooh... that's gotta hurt.

you... i just don't get.

you probably won't live through it.

everybody else we've bumped into has died. why not you?

you're wondering... what is a place like me doing in a girl like this?

yeah, i was there.

can you swim?

of course we don't let him go!

you'll be dead when they do this.

i think i'll kill you.

think of my children.

i only gamble with my life, never my money.

i may not be an explorer or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker or a gunfighter, but i am proud of what i am.

give me frogs! flies! locusts! anything but you!

compared to you, the other plagues were a joy.

i am so very sorry. it was an accident.

you are a catastrophe.

oh my god, i hate it when these things do that.

is he supposed to look like that?

of course i can swim, if the occasion calls for it.

now, because of you, we have failed.

you think this justifies the killing of innocent people?

what did you say?

i don't want to tell you.

let me get this straight.

you don't have any children.

you lied to me.

i lie to everybody.

what makes you so special?

sorry. didn't mean to scare you.

the only thing that scares me are your manners.

have you got any bright ideas?

i'm thinking. i'm thinking!

you'd better think of something fast.

what are we going to do?

wait here! i'll go get help!

i thought you said you didn't believe in all this fairy tales and hokum stuff.

forget it! we're out the door, we're down the hall, and we're gone!

i told you not to play around with that thing.

you heard the man. no mortal weeapons can kill this guy.

listen! we've got to do something!

is that my problem?

i appreciate you saving my life and all, but when i signed on, i agreed to take you out there and bring you back. end of job, end of story, contract terminated.

that's all i am to you? a contract?

you can either tag along with me or stay here and try to save the world.

do something!

you know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.

what's the challenge then?

rescue the damsel in distress, kill the bad guy, and save the world.

death is only the beginning.

why are you going back?

i'm going downstairs to get me a drink. you want something?

[glitteringobliteration]

Something bugged me about what Brennan said about Fabian’s new gold maximum legend tattoo: he’s now immune to Dragon Madness.

Why would that matter? Yeah, it’s probably great for Fabian’s future adventures but why would it be relevant now? The Bad Kids already got rid of all the gold they received from Kalvaxus’ hoard, right?

Please bear with the red-string bulletin board-making side of my brain while I talk through my theory:

It’s always struck me a bit odd how much attention is being paid to Fabian’s finances this season. I totally get that it’s partially due to his parents being gone all year/turning 18 and gaining access to the funds left by his papa, as well as the general arc Fabian is going through of navigating going it alone for the first time, but it feels like there’s more to it than that. Fabian has never wanted for money before, and it hasn’t really factored into this season either (for him. points about Adaine being broke are irrelevant rn.) beyond the handful of conversations (and one altercation lol) we’ve seen between Fabian and his banker, Alston Hughes. A couple of things that Brennan has mentioned feel very much like breadcrumbs, and I’m not sure if the Intrepid Heroes have clocked any of it yet (as of Ep 15: The Last Stand).

Fabian banks with KVX, which Alston Hughes tells him has gone through a shift in management since their board of directors were smote by the Council of Chosen. Their branding and logos have changed from Kalvaxus red, to blue.

I also find it worth noting that we did discover Alston Hughes to literally be a member of The Harvestmen. 👀

This brings to mind the subject of Oisin.

Oisin is a blue dragonborn in his junior year at Aguefort, the conjuration wizard of the Rat Grinders. We learned at the shrimp-jump party that he’s descended from a blue dragon, who’s said to live atop a great hoard of treasure.

Oisin offers to help Adaine get some of her much-needed spell components, and she turns him down.

Aelwyn tells us that Kipperlilly can’t use Oisin to get the material components she needs - hence why she’s using Aelwyn. Kipperlilly says she needs to protect Oisin.

Why?

I’m willing to bet that his family has something to do with the new management at KVX. I’m also willing to bet Kipperlilly knows exactly how to protect herself from Dragon Madness.

And Fabian’s new tattoo is gonna save everyone’s asses. True Maximum Legend.

[evertomorrowart]

Best of YouTube 2023

Yes, I did spend the first week and change of January on this. I wish I could have had it done for New Years, but too many people came out with incredible work in December, so waiting turned out for the best.

What these creators do are a huge influence on my life, I would honestly have difficulty doing what I do without them. That isn't to say that my favorites of the year are *only* on this image--It was almost impossible to narrow down my favorites. Many creators I wanted to include couldn't fit on a single page, and too many of them made more than one video I wished I could draw too!

But, to all of you, thank you for what you do. You're an inspiration.

For those who don't know, further is an explanation.

At the bottom center is an artistic masterpiece by Defunctland: "Journey to EPCOT Center: A Symphonic History." Over the last several years, Defunctland has risen from delightfully-entertaining commentary on decommissioned theme park attractions to occasionally dropping profound statements on the creation of art itself. "Journey to EPCOT Center: A Symphonic History" is worth treating like the cinematic experience it is: No second screen, you sit your ass down in front of a TV, set down the phone, and then you *watch it.* Any Disney, theme park, or independent film fan needs to pay attention to this one.

Bottom left is Caelan Conrad with their piece "Drop the T - The Deadly Consequences of Gay Respectability Politics." While I do think they've done more visually or artistically-daring pieces before, "Drop the T" is one of the most important videos released on YouTube in today's current climate of hate. We as queer folk (and our allies) need to understand how integral every identity of the queer experience has been since the start of the Civil Rights movement (and before!). While we are not identical, we *are* inseparable, and we deserve having our real history easily accessible.

TERFs and other conservative mouthpieces need not reply. Your opinions are trash. 😘

I cannot stop watching and rewatching this video by @patricia-taxxon, "On the Ethics of Boinking Animal People." It's not just a defense of furry fandom and its eccentricities, it's a thoughtful and passionate analysis of what the artform achieves that purely human representation can't. Patricia goes outside of her usual essay format to directly speak to the viewer about the elements that define furry media (the most succinct definition I've ever heard) and just how *human* an act loving animal cartoons really is.

As an artist who can draw furry characters, but never really got into erotic furry art, this video is a treasure. Why did I choose to have her drawn as a Ghibli character, hanging out with one of the tanukis from "Pom Poko?" Guess you'll have to watch, bruh.

Philosophy Tube continuously puts out videos that I would put on this list--I'm not even sure that "A Man Plagiarised my Work: Women, Money, and the Nation" is the best work she released in 2023. However, this video got many conversations going between myself and my partner, and the twist on the tail end of the video shocked us both to such a degree that I had no choice.

At the very tail end of the year, Big Joel released "Fear of Death." On his Little Joel channel, he described it as the singularly best video he's ever done, and I'm inclined to agree. However, for this illustration, I ended up repeatedly going back to a mini-series he did earlier in the year: "Three Stories at the End of the World." All three videos are deeply moving and haunting, and I was brought to tears by "We Must Destroy What the Bomb Cannot." While it may be relatively-common knowledge that the original Gojira (Godzilla) film is horror grappling with the devastation America's rush to atomic dominance inflicted on Japan, Big Joel still manages to bring new words to the discussion. Please watch all three of the videos, but if, for some reason, you must have only one, let it be "We Must Destroy What the Bomb Cannot."

Y'all. Let me confess something. I hate football. I hate watching it, I associate seeing it from the stadiums with some of my worst childhood experiences, I despise collegiate and professional football (as institutions that destroy bodies and offer up children at the feet of its alter as a pillar of American culture)--

I. L o a t h e. Football.

But.

F.D. Signifier could get me to watch an entire hour-plus essay on why I should at least give a passing care. AND HE DID IT. I might think "F*ck the Police," the two-parter on Black conservatism, or his essay on Black men's connection to anime might be "better" videos, but this writer did the impossible and held my limited attention span towards football long enough to make a sincere case for NFL players--and reminds us that millionaires can *in fact* be workers. That alone is testament to his skill.

Sit down and watch "The REAL Reason NFL Running Backs Aren't Getting Paid." Any good anti-capitalist owes it to themselves.

CJ the X continuously puts out stunning, emotional videos, and can do it with the most seemingly-inconsequential starting points. A 30 second song? An incestuous commercial? Five minutes of Tangled? Sure, why not. Go destroy yourself emotionally by watching them. I'm serious. Do it.

Their video Stranger Things and the Meaning of Life manages to to remind us all why the way we react to media does, in fact, matter. Yes, even nostalgia-driven, mass-media schlock. Yes, how we interact with media matters, what it says about us matters, and we all deserve to seek out the whys.

Folding Ideas has spent the last few years articulating exactly why so much of our modern world feels broken, and because of that his voice continuously lives rent-free in my brain. While the tricks that scam artists and grifters use to try to swindle us are never new, the advancement of technology changes the aesthetics of their performances. Portions of Folding Ideas' explanations might seem dry when going into detail of how stocks work in This is Financial Advice, but every bit of it is necessary to peel back the layers of techno-babble and jargon and make sense of the results of "Meme Stocks."

Jessie Gender puts out nothing but bangers, her absolute unit of a video about Star Wars might be my new favorite thing ever, but none of her work hit so profoundly in 2023 than the two-parter "The Myth of 'Male Socialization'" and "The Trauma of Masculinity." There's so much about modern life that isolates and traumatizes us, and so much of it is just shrugged off as "normal." We owe it to ourselves to see the world in more vivid a color palette than we're initially given.

Panels drawn after Kate Beaton and "Ducks: Two Years in the Oil Sands."

"This is Not a Video Essay" is one of the most intense and beautiful pieces of art I've ever put into my eyeballs. Why do we create? What drives us to connect?

I don't even know what else to say about the Leftist Cooks' work, it repeatedly transcends the medium and platform. Watch every single one of their videos, but especially this one.

The likelihood you are terminally online and yet haven't heard of Hbomberguy's yearly forrays into destroying the careers of awful people is pretty slim. Just because it has millions of views doesn't mean that Hbomberguy's "Plagiarism and You(Tube)" isn't worth the hype. Too long? Shut up, it has chapters and YouTube holds your place, anyway. You think a deep dive into a handful of creators is only meaningless drama? Well, you're wrong, you wrong-opinion-haver. Plagiarism is an *everyone* problem because of the actual harm it creates--the history it erases, the labor it devalues, the art it marginalizes--which you would know if you watched "Plagiarism and You(Tube)".

Watch. The damn. Video.

In fact, watch all of them!

Thanks for reading this if you did.

[mayearies]

☆.

QUEENS TREAT

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒

˚ʚ property of ©hiimayee ɞ˚

genre: fluff (angst if you really squint) | warnings: spanish request: “a miles morales x reader, with the reader spoiling miles because a bunch of fanfics have him spoiling us, like reader has a job, and when she gets her paycheck; she decides to spend it on her man, because he’s always spending whatever he can on her; so to make up for it she brings him to one of his favorite stores and is like ‘get what you want’.” requester tag: @gw3ndyswonderland a/n: I POSTED THE DRAFT ON ACCIDENT AND LOST THE REQUEST IM SO SORRY but here you go hope i did it justice 😞

summary: miles’ girlfriend spoils her man after her shift translations: mi corazón / my heart . no te preocupes / don’t worry . amor / love . déjalo, por favor / drop it, please . no tenías que / you didn’t have to . gracias / thank you . mi teroso / my treasure

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

e42 miles and you were laying on his bed, you watching tv while he was scrolling through his phone laying on your lap. you would peek at it from the corner of your eye once in a while to see what he was looking at but it didn’t peak your interest that much. that is, until he came across an ad on his homepage.

“mi corazón, you like those?”

miles turned his head to you and flipped his phone upside down on your lap, “yeah, but i can buy them myself. no te preocupes.”

you felt a little guilty with the same answer you would get every time. yoou offered to buy something for him. after overhearing a conversation about his mom struggling, you wanted to start making it up to him—buying him the things he would buy you.

“that’s not what i asked.” “c’mon amor, i can’t have you spending money on me.” “nuh uh. do you want the shoes or no?” “… no.”

and that happened every time too. he would switch his answer last minute. but you could tell he didn’t mean it and he did want those shoes. but also knowing him, he wouldn’t let you buy them for him.

thats when you had the idea. “wait, sit up for a second.” you grabbed two jackets of his—one for you and one for him. he was skeptical until he heard your keys jingling and some rustling.

“are you leavin’, ma?” “no, but we are.”

☆ you took him to an outlet down a couple of exits, encouraging him to pick whatever he wanted and you would pay for. you didn’t want anything, and you didn’t want your paycheck to just be lying around or else you might get the temptation to buy something you don’t need.

☆ after some back and forth, he loosened up and confied to your offer. he didn’t want to be too greedy with his choices , so he intentionally stayed where the cheaper shoes were (even if they were ugly as fuck) until you caught on and had to push him further out of his comort zone when shopping with his lady.

“mami, i mean-” “you don’t want sketchers, miles. they aren’t even in your size. déjalo, por favor.”

☆ he left with two pairs of new jordans that night, and in return he gave you a bunch of kisses all round your face.

“gracias, mami. no tenías que.” “it’s no big deal, only the best for mi teroso.”

after he kissed you delicately on the lips, you saw a crocs store only a few stores down and your face lit up. he smiled when he saw it. “you want matchin’ crocs?”

“do i??” “haha, only on one condition—i pay for ‘em.”

©hiimayee

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Non NRC

Summary: Yandere Neige/Chenya/Rollo/Najma x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: these are probably the tamest of the crew, yandere content, probably ooc but we know so little about these guys, Rook's an ass, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, Rollo's darling is on their last straw, Stockholm syndrome

A/N: I was gonna include Najma, but she's so pretty, she could do whatever she wanted, and I'd be like, "whatever you say, babygirl." Anyways...I did not include her here...for reasons....

Edit: I am a dumbass. I figured out how to write a Najma part.

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You'd gotten an invitation to Rook's estate in the Sunset Savannah. 

Rook had basically become your son's godfather, though you had to doubt his motives. At first that is.

You'd been suspicious. Of course Rook would want to raise up the next Neige le Blanche. Your son was the spitting image of him, but with the added “bonus” of having your “radiant, glowing eyes.” You couldn't help but worry that Rook was helping you because he wanted to be the one to help polish and prepare the one who would grow up to be the fairest of them all.

Your suspicions had faded over time, as he seemed to be taking a hands off approach, opting to send money, buy food and clothes, and play pretend dad if someone asked questions. He'd visit twice a year, expressing his excitement to simply play fairy godmother to the boy.

Then one evening, long after your son had gone to sleep, you'd sat late into the night talking in front of Rook's grandiose fireplace. The both of you had inched closer and closer, until he'd taken your chin in his hand, and was whispering against your lips.

“I've always loved your eyes. I'd always hoped that it would be my son you'd share them with.”

You laughed dryly. “Perhaps in another universe, there's a boy who looks like Rook Hunt, who has my (e/c) eyes.”

“I hope that Rook treasures him as much as I treasure S/N and his parent. Perhaps you can make the transgression up to me, by allowing me to dote on you, and continue to help raise your son.”

It had been a night where, despite not having drunk anything, you'd felt intoxicated: on eachother, and the firelight, and promises for the future. The next morning, you'd both agreed it was best to proceed as usual. Perhaps, as time went on, you would fall into something naturally. You weren't far off as it was.

A month later was when you'd gotten the invitation to his estate.

Your son was excited as always. And when you'd arrived, Rook had told you he had set up a tea party for you. The door opened, and a pair of arms were wrapped around you.

“Oh my sevens, thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

You stiffened, but didn't have time to react as Neige pulled away, and got down on your son's level, cupping his cheeks, and cooing softly. The static in your ears was preventing you from understanding anything he was saying. But you were the only one out of the four people in this room who was not smiling.

Neige pushed a lock of your son's hair back, and gave him a tearful smile, and you watched as your son skipped out the door. You felt Rook's hands on your shoulders, and it brought you back to earth. He gently directed you to one of the two chairs of the tea party you had been promised. You sat with a thud as Neige took the one across from you. 

You looked up at Rook, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He reached out, and gently brushed one away.

“Do not cry, Mon Trickster”

“Why?”

He smiled softly, yet still had the decency to look heartbroken.

“I cannot stand between soulmates. You can't let true love escape, for someone like me.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Just give him a chance. The beauty the two of you  create together is not something I can allow to get away.”

And then he left the room, shutting and locking the door behind him, as you stared at Neige, who practically had hearts in his eyes. He reached across the table and gently took your hand, stroking the back with his thumb.

“I missed you both. So much.”

You bit your lip unsure of what to say.

“Listen, I know I've made some mistakes, but,” he sniffled a little, “I want you back. Please, give us another chance.”

“I don't think-”

“I'm so much better than I was! I hurt you, I know, but I'm not that person anymore.” He got up from his chair, and knelt before you, pressing your hand to his heart.

“I swear on everything I love that I will never hurt you again. I'll be less controlling. I won't fly off the handle. I won't give you the silent treatment when you have to talk to someone who isn't me. Please.”

He knew his crimes. That was a pretty huge step. And as you stared into his pleading eyes, you remembered how much you used to love this man. He seemed so earnest. 

Maybe you could learn to love him again.

“And what if you're lying?” You asked, hoarsely.

“I'm not.”

“A-a trial period. That's all I'll agree to.”

He looked ecstatic as he jumped up, and wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you. I promise to never make you cry again.”

You believed him. Just like you'd believed him everytime he made you pretty promises. 

But, maybe this time…

“Oh. Hey Y/N. Meow's it going?” Chenya said as though him shopping at the supermarket you always shopped at wasn't about to send you spiraling.

He reached past you, grabbing the bag of chips on the shelf next to you. You didn't dare move. Sudden movements made him excited. You'd sent your kids to grab something you'd forgotten in the frozen food aisle. You prayed it would take him a while to find it.

“Nya, you have nothing to be a scaredy cat about. I'm just here to shop,” he said with a wide smile, grabbing another several bags of chips. “See, I have a mew family. With an even more purrfect son.”

“Oh, well good for you, Chenya. I'm happy for you,” you said, quickly turning your cart so that you could run if you had to.

He looked at you, face blank. “So, I don't need you anymore.”

“That's so great. I'm happy for you,” you took a step back, trying to decide if you should call someone over, just in case he decided to be wild, just to fuck with you one more time.

“I'm glad. So leave me alone. M’kay?” He said, his face still uncharacteristically blank.

“Sounds good.”

You slowly walked out of the aisle. Once you were out of his eyeline, you ran for your son, and grabbed his hand.

“Forget it, baby, we're just gonna go home,” you whispered.

“But why?” He whined, begrudgingly putting the ice cream sandwiches, that you definitely didn't ask for, back on the shelf.

“I forgot my wallet at home,” you explained, but he didn't seem to be listening. He slowly pointed slightly behind you. Then you felt a tail wrap around your middle.

You looked over your shoulder, but as usual there was no body attached to the tail. You held back a groan. The only way to deal with him was to give him nothing.

“Nya, you were supposed to get insanely jealous!” He whined, and you felt his rough tongue lick up and down your neck, possessively.

“You said you were happy, and that you didn't need me,” you reminded, trying to subtly give your son the eye signal. You'd established it about a year ago. If you gave him that signal, it meant he had to get a grown up to help. Chenya was too unpredictable, so you had to hope that if your son got away, he would actually get help, or he'd be taken care of by a family far away. He turned on his heel, ready to walk, not run, down the aisle, when a hand grabbed his shoulder.

Chenya 's face hovered above the both of you, clearly upset. 

“Where are you going? Bad kitties get bites,” he warned. Your son, who was not related to Chenya, unfortunately had the same feline features and instincts. Upon hearing that warning, his ears drooped, and he looked down at the floor, whimpering.

“Aw! So pwecious! Papa will forgive you!” The tail around you disappeared, as Chenya recorpperated himself before your son, happily squishing his cheeks, and nuzzling their noses.

“Uh, who are you?” Your son asked nervously, looking at you as though you'd have a logical answer.

“That's-”

“Didn't you hear the first time? I'm your papa!” Chenya giggled happily, as he squeezed your son in a hug.

“This man is scary,” he whimpered.

“Chenya, let's just have a chat-”

His eyes turned to you, and you couldn't fight back a gasp. The anger in his face was something you'd never seen before.

“No. No more chats. No more discussions. No more, ‘let’s take a break's’. We are going home right now.”

He floated over to you, his face less than a centimeter from yours. “And, this time, you are going to stay put. Or the baby kitten is gonna be all mine to raise. I don't think you'd like that very much.”

Your door shattered into a million pieces. And there he was, holding his staff, and looking very displeased with you.

He held out a hand, clearly expecting you to take it. 

“Come.”

You simply sat there, too shocked to even blink, let alone process the command. The fact that he'd found you, meant you were already fucked. Taking his hand would have lessened whatever “purification” punishment he had cooked up for you in your twelve year absence. But you were too shocked.

“How-”

“If you have enough brains to ask questions, then you know you should take my hand, and come home. Before I get angry.”

“We should talk about this-” you began, but cut yourself off as his eyes flashed angrily.

“You had plenty of chances to talk about it. But you chose to act like a child, and run away from your problems.” His staff started to glow, and you swore you saw fire in his eyes. “You have one last chance. Come.”

You stood slowly, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to burn your apartment to the ground, just to make a point.

“S/N is asleep in his room,” you said, taking a step in that direction.

“We're leaving him.”

“What!”

“He was supposed to teach you how to behave. Instead he caused you to be foolish, and run from me.”

“Wait, Rollo, you can't be ser-”

“The child is obviously a distraction. So, he has no use for us.” 

You stared at him, and then ran for your son's room. Rollo quickly caught you around the middle, dragging you towards the exit.

“You can't do this!” You shouted, trying to wrestle from his firm grip. “That's my son!”

“One of your neighbors will see the broken door, and take him in. He is not your son anymore.”

You screamed, and struggled, but, for some reason, none of your neighbors even opened their doors to investigate. He dragged you all the way to his car, no one stopping him. He threw you in, quickly tying you down, before beginning the drive back home.

You continued to scream at him, calling him inhuman, a monster, how dare he separate you from your son? How could he care so little? Your son looked like him, for hell's sake!

“I told you. That boy was a means to an end. And he failed at that end. So I have no use for him. And neither do you. You'll soon forget.”

You snapped at him, and he groaned.

“Oh, just shut up for five minutes,” he muttered, and you found you no longer had your voice.

Ooh, you were steaming. When you had your voice back, you'd let him have it. Then again, so would he. He'd  throw you straight into your punishment, which would probably get worse when he realized your son had been manifesting signs of magic, meaning you needed to be “cleaned”. 

But, at this moment, you realized something. 

If you had to kill this man to get your son back, you were pretty sure you now had the resolve to do it.

You hesitated a moment, before knocking on the front door. You heard shouting inside, then were greeted by Jamil opening the door. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes widening. Then he groaned, and rolled his eyes.

"Najma, you can relax now. They're back!" He shouted into the house. You winced as you heard her squeak. She came running for you, wrapping her arms around you and her son.

"You gotta start taking better care of your things," Jamil warned her.

"Shut up," she muttered into your neck.

"I'll go tell Kalim to call off the search party," Jamil mumbled, walking past the both of you.

"I'm sorry, baby," you whispered, tears springing to your eyes.

She pulled back, her face furious.

"What the hell, Y/N? You scared me half to death. Where did you go? Why did you leave?" She snapped.

You sniffled, more tears flooding your eyes.

"I'm sorry. I don't know. I just got very scared for a moment. So I ran. I don't know why. I'm so so sorry."

She stared at you for a moment, before she sighed heavily.

"This may be partly my fault," she muttered, but you shook your head. How could this possibly be her fault? She was perfect!

She gently took your son from your arms. You reached back over to take him back, unsure why your stomach was turning, but she softly smiled at you.

"It's alright, Y/N. Come inside."

She walked in, and for some reason your feet felt like lead as you followed her.

"I know exactly what I did. It's not your fault, love," She smiled at you sweetly, but you were doubtful. Didn't you just run with your new son, filled with unspeakable terror, out of nowhere?

She laid your son in the basinet she'd gotten for the living room, then took a seat on the couch, tapping the space next to her. You quickly joined her, laying your head in her lap as she caressed your cheek.

"I thought you were far more adjusted, so I rushed us into the next step. You just weren't ready yet, and it clearly startled you. I'm sorry," she said, a regretful smile on her face.

"That's not true! I'm so ready. I love you and our son so much!"

Her eyes looked so sad, as she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"You don't even know," she whispered forlornly, before perking back up. "But, we'll work it out. We're in it now, the only thing to do is move forward!"

You felt lulled under by her gentle caresses, drifting off into a nightmare filled sleep. The last thing you saw, was a bitter expression on her face. Not that you'd remember it when you woke up screaming. You never did.

[chrolloluvr]

💸 Ways Toxic!Mammon takes over your life as your controlling, doting boyfriend (pt.1?) 💸

Note: Female!Reader, AFAB (Whoever came up w/ voxtok shout out to you!!!), this also takes place before Fizz quit. Also not proofread!

Warnings: semi nsfw, cussing, manipulation, slut shaming, killing, dominance, toxic relationship goals!

Social media. As we all are aware, he has a huge influence online. He has millions and even billion of fans, which he can exploit and persuade very easily. He controls your accounts, people you follow, the things you post (if he even lets you post at all), etc. He controls all of your comments, and filters them. One time, your best friend had left a comment that said, "Damn girl, looking fine ASF", And he was fuming. He forbid you from ever seeing that 'friend' ever again.

You most likely have to make a secret account that you post on. And its very popular. It may consist of you talking about Mammons icks, dancing videos with him (you convinced him, because you told them they were privated.), which all most likely get millions of views. But lets hope Mammon does not find it, or else he will not be happy with you.

How you two as a couple are perceived. He cares alot about his public image. So he will pay out media outlets and news stations to percieve you, himself and your relationship in a good light. So lets say Mammon is getting "cancelled", (he never in a million years actually would, too many people look up to him and adore him.) for bringing supposed groupies backstage after an event he is hosting. Even if he actually did, he would pay the media huuuge amounts of money to get himself out of trouble. Same goes for you. Your poor choices reflect onto him as well, since you two are a very public couple.

Like I have said before in previous posts, you two are definitely the most watched, reported and popular couple in Hell. Sinners and native demons admire the dynamic between you two. So lets say you lash out at a fan for getting their camera too close to you? And then that fan posts footage on Voxtok or Sinstagram, you may get some backlash.

Lets be honest, Mammon probably wont jump to defend you unless it involves him in some way. If it does not involve him, he will block some people by logging into your account, (because he knows all of your passwords), but nothing more.

The clothes you wear. He buys you your clothes, so in his mind, he has every right to choose what goes on your body. If he sees you wearing something revealing, he will tell you 'you look like a slut babe. Where are you going, the fuckin' strip club?' He says shit like that even if your showing an inch of stomach. He for the most part wants you to wear things he chooses. He prefers if you two are matching all the time, but if you are just going out to get groceries, he likes when you wear oversized sweatshirts/hoodies, with leggings. I know its an oddly specific combo, but he thinks it doesn't show off any of your supple skin, and you look so appealing. Especially if its a brand Mammon owns. Mans will go feral. I feel like every time you leave the house with or without him, he will be sitting on the couch, saying 'C'mon, you know the drill cutie. show daddy what your gonna wear, yeah?'

He loves it when he sees you in a natural, underdressed state alone at home. His by far most treasured thing he likes to see on you, is you either in your bra and matching panties, or you in an oversized t shirt and panties with no bra. He especially likes those really dainty, "girly" colors and patterns. He likes seeing you dress feminine.

Calling him daddy. Yes you heard me. He has a huge power influx, and having you call him that fuels the fire in his ego. If its the morning, and you yawn and stretch out a tired, 'good mornin' daddy', he is hard. And this isn't even a fully sexual thing for him, since he isnt all that sexual extremely often. He just loves being called daddy. But if it were somebody else calling him that, they would get the death stare and an upset Mammon. But with you, he likes dominating you. So call him daddy. It will get him in a good mood, and If you want something from him? A daddy or two wont hurt.

Who you talk to. Once you two are together, he with subtly cut people out of your life that he thinks are a threat to your relationship. He will try to cut off any of your male friends or if you had any, your ex's. This sneaky man will probably send photos of you giving him head that he took without your permission. And he will never tell you he did that. Anyways, once he gets rid of all of these people, he will convince you that 'ohhh, princess, c'mon dont get your panties in a twist. Maybe they are just on vacation, you dont gotta act like a little whiny bitch-'. And by vacation, he means threatened, or killed.

He does not want you being influenced by anybody but himself. And especially not by any men. One of his many influx of issues is his jealousy/possession, (which I will get into on another post.) SO really the only other person besides himself that you can talk to are people he has met, and are proven to him to not uphold any power against him.

Meaning he will never let you meet Asmodeus. He is a horrible influence in his mind, and he does not was Ozzie to make you aware of his manipulation tactics. He may let you meet Beelz or Lucifer, but never Ozzie. He is the embodiment of lust, which is like toxic waste for your mind.

You bank account. If you need him to send funds, he will as long as you give him a little kiss on the cheek. But if you have been a bad girl, you might need to work for his money. If he is feeling particularly nice today, he will text you, sending a photo of the transfered funds he sent you, reading 25k+ sent. He loathes in the 'oh no you didn't have to Mamm' he gets from you, or the 'I feel bad, send it back!' Because in reality, he does not like to spend his money on anything useless. And to him, you aren't useless. So sharing some of his "hard earned" cash truly shows how he trusts and believes you wont go out on a limb for him.

And plus, now that your with him, he has taken all of your funds. He wont tell you that, even thought it didn't matter, considering how little you had compared to his trillion dollar net worth. So if you ever do stupidly decide to leave him, you wont be able to.

Puts a tracker on you, or has his goons follow you. This is another thing you are blissfully unaware of. He has an unreleased app on his phone, where he can see wherever you are at all times. While you were sleeping in your shared bedroom, he would put a tracker chip deep into you ear. So that he doesn't have to worry about his most prized possession running away when he isn't around. Or if he cant physically see you and he wants to? He has some loan sharks or his bodyguards follow you silently. I think awhile back, Mammon developed "Mammons Super Secret Spy Glasses", a product made for naive kids, and was released to the masses. But that transformed into an opportunity to exploit his goons into using them to spy on you. Do they want to creepily follow you? No. But can they refuse. Absolutely not. Nobody can refuse Mammon.

If somebody does take you somewhere, he will have his goons kill them, but come to the location and make it look like he killed them for your sake.

Controls where you can and cant go. He 100% does this. He wouldn't even let you in the vicinity of any kind of smoke shop, strip club, etc. He wants you to stay innocent, and naive for him. Meaning he will never let you in the lust ring, which alludes to the fact that him and Ozzie... aren't on the best terms per say. But will let you in any other ring under severe supervision. He cant have you doing any stupid shit to mess with his public image.

He wont even let you roam around in his own ring, because he is well aware of how dangerous it has become. He doesn't want his pretty little thing being kidnapped by some dirty, greasy men on the streets. But if you really want to go somewhere, he will let you go near there, but he will cover your eyes with his top two hands, and guide your waist with his bottom pair of hands somewhere he deems safe.

I also think he would follow you to the bathroom, and he would definitely offer to (does anyways) wipe for you.

How you act. Once you two are together, you will learn things the Mammon way. He will teach you how to become his esteemed future wife, and soon you might even have his kids (when he feels like babytrapping you, but that might be a later work.) He will teach you his version of manners, such as how to sit properly on his lap, teaching you how to french kiss (Which he assumes is your first time kissing somebody), How to sit still properly on his large cock, How to rock your hips just right-

He just wants you to be prepared for him. If he comes home at night, he expects the usual kiss on the cheek, asking him how his day was, and then the finale, which consists of your naked body and your legs being spread wider than his shit eating grin. He just wants to be ready to blow your back out, not having to worry about wasting time.

In the morning, he wants his breakfast served by none other than his obedient little princess. Then, he wants you to personally brush and floss his teeth. Then, he wants you to pick his outfit. (you will never truly get a say, he just wants to know from your perspective what makes him sexier.) And finally, the finishing act, holding your hair tightly into a makeshift ponytail, while he bobs your head up and down his cock.

Sexually frustrating you. After a while, you will miss his sexual touches. You will begin to crave them, as you will find yourself wanting him more and more. He is just so good at eating your pussy, and making you feel like your on cloud 9.

So don't be suprised if you find yourself humping his leg, as he bounces his thigh up and down to try and overstimulate you.

Makes you come to his shows. He will drag you to them. He does not care how tired you are, you will be there and sit pretty. He will let you in for free, but if you want a piece of merchandise, or some popcorn, he will make you pay. (even though its his money). When you first start dating, that is the case. But now that you two are officially an item? You sit up on the terrace with him in his webs. He has two of his left side arms wrapped around you, while he forces you to hand feed him.

And sometimes people catcall you from up above. One time, a couple dudes got drunk of Beelzejuice, and started berading you. By asking you to flash a peek of your tits, and show a little pussy. You were highly offended, but Mammon was not happy.

Those guys ended up in the E.R., but they would have died if it weren't for your expertise in calming Mammons temper. After that little incident, Mammon had later that day taken your ass on a one way ticket to pound town. So you can thank those guys, I guess...

Anyways, what if you need to use the bathroom during a show? He pauses the entire thing, because he wants you to watch how good of a planner and mastermind he is at pageants. Will literally wait outside of the bathroom door for you, and checks his watch if your taking "too long".

But anyways, he will also try to get you and Fizzarolli to be friends, since both of you are basically brainwashed by him.

The things you buy. He will not ever let you buy any cheap shit. Its a bad look on his behalf. So every time you two go out, you have to ask him if you can get something. If he deems it as "not doing anything for your look", he will make you put it back. And this goes for everything. Online orders, Voxtok shop (tiktok shop), etc. It always has to be approved by him.

Also, he will never let you buy any sex toys. He thinks his fingers, tongue and dick are more than plenty. If you ask him for any sex toys, he will call you an ungrateful little whore. So its best if you don't ask, unless you want Mammons over the top mumbling and grumbling.

Emotionally manipulating you. He will do this all the time. If he ever does something wrong, he will never admit to it. He will either never glaze over it, or will turn it on you somehow. It will start with his angry grunting, huffing, and puffing. If you ever ask him if he is ok, he will literally whip his head towards you and give you the most deadly glare you will ever see. His Aussie accent will come out very abruptly when he's mad.

Throw the worlds biggest temper tantrums. Sometimes you think hes a baby in an adult mans body. Some of his have gone on for days on end. He will pull every trick in the book. Whining and fake crying are things he has tried to use on you.

If he is really ruffled up, he will start yelling at you for no reason whatsoever. He just yells a bunch of belligerent bullshit, and does not give any reason why. Truly, the best thing to do to calm him down is spread your legs nice and wide, and let him lap at your cunt for hours. If he is 'borderline dangerous' mad, he will refuse to talk to you for a couple days. Even if you try, he wont budge. Deep down, he cares for you. And he knows that if he gives in, he might hurt you.

If he wants something from you, he will flash his infamous puppy dog eyes. (Bottom photo below), But if he is annoyed with you, he will make the deadly glare (Top photo below)

So, just try your best to keep him calm and happy. Even if that is through means you don think are necessary 💚