#because only pre school goes back in person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

burnthatbridge · 5 days

Text

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know)

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious. “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all.

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed.

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled.

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress.

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul.

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it.

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t.

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission.

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else.

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to.

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him.

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie.

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.”

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it.

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them.

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.”

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping.

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

#do we need to see where this goes next?#or is it good as is?#these are the questions that haunt me #(also i am totally avoiding writing chapter 5 of my wip please don't kill me)#buddie #bucktommy #buddie fic #bucktommy fic #911 fic #911 #911 abc #myfic

844 notes · View notes

avisisisis · 9 months

Text

Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man

Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him

Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other

Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened

The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them

The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao

Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates

They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly

Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else

When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much

(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)

Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest�� it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are

We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all

Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other

The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)

Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before

And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else

#hey is it whose or who's #how do those words work???? english is so confusing sometimes smh #jujutsu kaisen #satosugu #they love each other your honor #jjk #jjk manga spoilers #kenjaku #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #geto suguru #suguru geto #gay #this is kinda long haha #but they deserve the longest of paragraphs #edit: i changed this a little bc my dumbass self said gojo had a god complex #i didn't actually know what a god complex is. mb #edit: i'm proud to say this is pretty much my best post

2K notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

Text

My McLuhan lecture on enshittification

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

youtube

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of the above.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thus tech workers themselves were the final bulwark against enshittification,

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

So what happened?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today's giants are not constrained by competition.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But what about that fourth constraint: workers?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I get that this is all a little depressing

OK, really depressing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because she can't get anything done.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's been a minute.

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

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

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

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

Or that someone is making AI deepfake porn of you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Software doesn't eat the world, it enshittifies it

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

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

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

Well, no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I think that's pretty important.

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

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

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

Image: Drahtlos (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Motherboard_Intel_386.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

cdessums (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Monsoon_Season_Flagstaff_AZ_clouds_storm.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #transmediale #lectures #enshittification #big tech #berlin #mcluhan lecture #Youtube

401 notes · View notes

erenthology · 5 months

Text

a/n: nothing wrong with acne, this is self indulgent. The Eren brain rot has been taking over ever since watching the finale. Not proof read obs

Academic rival Eren who’s always made your life a living hell. while secretly obsessed with you.

Rival!Eren who flirts idly and is the most contusing person. you can never tell if he’s being serious or not.

Rival!Eren who stops you on your way out of school. “move, asshole.” of course, the life sized giant doesn’t. “did you not hear me? I called you an asshole.”

“Have dinner with me” he grins. what is wrong with him? you think. not liking the way your heart is beating 10 times faster

Rival!Eren who smiles watching you run away from him, knowing the tension isn’t one sided, and you do too

Rival!Eren who first laid eyes on you in pre school, crying because some kid had stolen your strawberry shortcake. you were both kids. Eren angrily pushed his cake on your plate, blushing when your tear streaked face thanked him

Rival!Eren who then made sure to make that guy’s life hell for the rest of the school year. You really loved your strawberry shortcake, the memory makes him laugh

Rival!Eren who slowly noticed you’re the only one keeping up with him in class. He still remembers the day you told him you’ll surpass him

Rival!Eren who then became your rival, who told the kids you had germs just so they wouldn’t take you from him and

Rival!Eren who loved you through all of your phases, and found you just as beautiful that summer you came back from break with your face covered in acne, and hair cut in a bob

Rival!Eren who couldn’t keep up with you in 8th grade because your boobs had grown so big over the summer, it was all he could focus on

Rival!Eren who nearly had a stroke when you got your first boyfriend. He even accidentally smashed the guy’s face in when he heard him talking about you in inappropriate ways

Rival!Eren who was right there to take the blame. He was fine with you hating him for the breakup, as long as you still talked to him, even if it was just to cuss him out.

Rival!Eren who was your first kiss. “If you score more than me on this, Eren, I’ll do whatever you want” you once so confidently said. he pretended to suggest the kiss as a punishment, but still reminisces over the way you both blushed and ran separate ways after the innocent pec

Rival!Eren who got accused of having a crush on you by the boys, and got so mad at the way you denied it, he started taking girls out on the dates just to get back at you

Rival!Eren who watched you slip away from him but nevertheless kept his eyes on you over the years. made sure no one was bothering you beside him

Rival!Eren knows, you know. whether you like to admit or not, you’re his. you have been since that day. he’s always been behind you, and you’ll always expect him to be

Rival!Eren who, even in collage, loves to compete with you. thrives over the fact that he has been opponent since you were both kids, and no one else

Rival!Eren who thinks you look so freaking sexy every time you score higher than him and gloat. your ego is through the roof and he loves it

Rival!Eren who also loves it when you crumble before his eyes as he exceeds you in certain subjects

Rival!Eren who goes out of his way to catch your attention. Pulling your hair in class, kicking your feet under the desk, anything, really.

Rival!Eren who touches girls, kisses them in the hallway right when you walk by just to look you in the eye and grin

“You disgust me” you mouth to him.

You’ve definitely heard rumors from girls gossiping in the school bathroom. Especially by ashley, who loves going on about the night they spent together. “Eren fucks like a god, he knows his way around a woman’s body.” bla bla bla

Rival!Eren who catches your eye in the school cafeteria. He always looks at you, but this time you really looked at him. He’s fresh out of the shower. must’ve had practice, you think. you really do love when he wraps his hair in a bun like that

Rival!Eren who stares just as intensely back at you, resisting the urge to come over and do the things he wants to. instead, he takes the opportunity to wink at you, chuckling over the way you get up and throw away your remaining food

Rival!Eren who runs after you to catch up, but is reminded of your stubbornness when you ignore his shouts, instead he wraps his hand around you and pulls your entire body towards him

Rival!Eren who leans forward and whispers, only for you to hear, “if you ever look at me like that again, I’ll come over and fuck the shit out of you in front of the whole cafeteria.”

Rival!Eren who pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear and soaks in the way you’re looking it him, trying his best to force his mind of your silken lips before you visibly snap back to reality and push him away

Rival!Eren who’s eyes gleam mischief when he’s paired up with you for a project. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun” he grins, adoring the face you’re giving him

Rival!Eren who gets mad when you cut yourself on paper. “What the hell are you doing?” he says, carefully inspecting your hand

“Just tell me what to do.” he snaps, taking over

That night you both stayed until late in the library, feeling overwhelmed by all the work. there was nothing weird about Eren’s hand finding yours, and yours finding his, as you both rested your heads on the table

Rival!Eren who blames the gentleman in him when you ask why he insists on driving you back home. “you think that lowly of me?”

Rival!Eren who’s ears spike when a guy in the locker room mentions asking you out. He won’t allow it. suddenly feeling eyes on him, he notices he just smashed his first into the locker

“Uh,” needing to be smart about this, he quickly comes up with an excuse, “nah, she’s too easy, i’d get behind Ashley if I were you, trust me,” he winks. Lies. no one is better than you, but you’re his

Rival!Eren who starts insisting on coming over to your place to get the project done. Wanting to see how you live, what color your sheets are, what you wear at home

Rival!Eren who’s eyes almost fall out of its pockets when he sees your bra lying on top of your gym bag. By no means is he unfamiliar with bra’s or the female anatomy. It’s the fact that it’s yours that send his mind into an orbit

Rival!Eren who thinks you’re getting closer, so why the fuck is he seeing you with another man in a coffee shop on a saturday night?

Rival!Eren who carefully waits until Monday where he tells you he needs to talk to you. even seeing your face is making him crazy, he hates it

Rival!Eren who asks if you have a boyfriend and why you haven’t told him. you’re confused by this for two reasons, 1, you don’t have a boyfriend. 2. Why would you tell Eren?

“Tell me the truth” he demands.

How can he say that after running through half the women in your college? “The truth? I hate you, so much. wish you would just leave me alone.” you say despite the lump in your throat

Taken aback, he speaks in an unsure voice, “you hate me?” It looked like it physically hurt him to hear you say it. “Got it.”

Sighing, you realize you might’ve overreacted. despite all your bickering, you’ve never snapped at him like that before, “Eren, wait-“ but he’s already gone

Rival!Eren who starts ignoring you. He still looks, but he doesn’t mess around with you in the joking manner that he used to

Rival!Eren who’s been on your mind a lot since the fight. so much so, that you’re falling behind on school. you decide to keep this distance he created once and for all, no more back and forth

Rival!Eren who stops listening to his friends the instant he notices your saddened look. to the avarage person, you probably look fine, but he knows you.

Rival!Eren who spams your phone with texts, tries his best getting your attention during class but to no avail. Did someone hurt you? Sitting through this lecture is killing him

Rival!Eren who follows you after class, forcibly taking hold of your hand. “Eren, no.” you sigh, pulling your hand out of his grip. Annoyed, he ignores your request and takes ahold of your hand again, “what’s wrong?”

“Why is it so hard for you to leave me alone?” you yell, surprised by the force in your own voice. both you and Eren’s eyes widen at your second outburst at him

“Alright,” he nods his head, “message received” he says and finally leaves you. Despite having asked for it, panic arises in you as you turn to watch him walk away, only to see him leaning against the locker, still there

A smirk finds his face, “thought I’d leave?”

he’s hit with a surprise when you put your head on his chest and starts sobbing. And you’re left equally as shocked by the relief that fills your chest

Rival!Eren who puts his arms around you and starts stroking your back. he wants to burn the world when he sees it’s hurt you

Rival!Eren who takes you back to his dorm with no room for discussion, but makes a quick pit stop, telling you he’ll be right back and to stay in the car

“Strawberry shortcake?” The look you give him makes him want to back inside and buy you all the cake they have

Rival!Eren who acts composed but feels his heart pounding in his chest all while he drives back to his place, while he’s leaning against the door frame as you’re explore his room, and as eat your cake in silence, with him staring at you

Rival!Eren who’s sure he’s mistaken when you flat out ask to give him to have sex with you, but is quickly corrected when you direct his hand onto the soft flesh of your boob

Rival!Eren who’s fingers act on their own, moulding and squeezing as he regains composure, “hold on, you’ve never done this before, right?”

“No.” you shake your head.

Rival!Eren who grabs ahold of your chin as a smile creeps up on his face , “good.” he’s going to teach you everything. but not today

Rival!Eren who’s thumb plays with the button of your jeans as he asks if you’re going to stop running away from him. loving the way you shy from his question

the way you hesitate makes him want to devour you whole. “I’ll kiss you if you don’t say yes” he leans forward to tease

“C’mon, hurry.”

“Yes.” you barely breathe out before he leans in and kisses the hell out of you. then proceeds to unzip your clothes

Rival!Eren who has the longest make out session of his life, making sure to prepare you by playing with every part of your body

Rival!Eren who’s soaking in the way your face twists into pleasure when he twists and turns his fingers inside of you, telling you to calm down and trust him

Rival!Eren who he talks you through your orgasm, flicks his tongue on your pulse point and whispers, “no one has ever touched you here before, right?”

Rival!Eren who holds you face in his hands after making you come, kissing you once, kissing you again, again, and again. he can’t stop stealing kisses from you, it feels like he’s been robbed of this his whole life.

Rival!Eren who declines your request for him to fuck you. only for you to get mad and get up looking for your clothes

“Yeah, but you’ll fuck every other girl passing by.”

Rival!Eren who laughs and drags your ass back down on his lap, he’s not letting you get away again. not a chance in hell

“You’re gonna belive rumors, baby? thought you were my smart girl.”

“Look, I may not be a virgin, but I might as well be. you’re the only girl Ive ever wanted. it’s not an excuse, it’s a fact. And I’ll keep showing it to you until one day you’ll believe it.”

Rival!Eren who promises to take your virginity one day, but not today.

#idk why a dark academia rival Eren possesed my mind today but i MIGHT write a part 2 for the virginity #eren smut #attack on titan eren #eren #eren jeager x reader #eren aot #eren fanfiction #eren jaeger #just in the clouds for eren #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader

1K notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for not expressing an opinion on my children's education?

I don't think I'm the asshole for this but my brother told me off for it and one of my friends said I was being a crap dad for it.

Me and my wife are separated - I moved to a city a couple hours away from her and my two children a little over a year ago. We would be divorced if that was legal. As it is, we still mostly have shared finances because 1) we can't actually separate our shared bank account and 2) it's my responsibility to send money to them. My wife has a full time job just as I do. I opened a separate bank account when I moved so that all of my personal apartment stuff goes through there instead of the account my wife and kids use.

A week or so ago, my wife called because our children are getting close to a new level of education (I don't know what this would be in the American system - sort of pre-career or pre-university level?) and she wanted to discuss where they're going to go.

She laid out their options and various merits (from a financial perspective, from a career perspective, a social perspective, etc). I listened to her points, but I haven't seen either of my children in a year and we don't talk much (my wife and I have only told them that I moved for a new career opportunity and said that we didn't want to make them move too; we haven't told them about the difficulties between my wife and I), so I don't know much about what they want to do after secondary school and I don't feel comfortable advocating for any particular school on their behalf.

Anyway, I didn't really have anything to say, but my wife started yelling at me for not giving her an answer (she didn't actually ask me a question) and I told her that I would be happy to pay for whatever the children chose. This was not the answer she wanted from me. She kept yelling at me, mostly about the fact that I need to move back in with them and that living apart is making me forget how to be a father (all of which have been routine in our calls since I left, as well as in a slightly different form in the years before I left), so I activated my smoke alarm and hung up.

I'm sorry for my English, it is not my first language.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

284 notes · View notes

waltzingwithspirit · 8 months

Text

PICK A CARD: THIS MESSAGE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE

Left: 111; Right: 333

Disclaimer:

🪈 Take what resonates and leave the rest

🪈 Disclaimer in highlight applies here

🪈 Thank you for letting me read for you, it has been a pleasure

🪈Personal readings are paid only.

🪈No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances.

✨111✨

You live life in defined stages, set in their ways, dislike change. Anal personality, structured, to-do lists that must be crossed off and any step out of the system creates irritation. You are doing something you don’t want, to get something you don’t want, simply because you once decided. You are being told to embrace partnership, learning how to dance would help, choose a dance style in which it involves two people going in a rhythm like salsa. This will help with adaptability and flexibility which you really need. Tightness in body will be gone to. You take the road taken while yearning for adventure, you think, but you never act. hesitant energy due to defeated mindset: first the world defeated you and now you defeat you. You need love, you like love, you crave love and affection but darn it if you show this. You crave intimacy. You like to seem tough. You want softness. A go-getter. Someone who says they don’t have time for love and will focus on their career. A free thinker who doesn’t like changes. Theme of love life: opposites attract like rebel meets high school sweetheart, princess and the frog, forbidden romance. Loyal to a fault. MAIN MESSAGE: Embrace partnerships especially romantic, it will change your life. Don’t rush but embrace, go out on dates, meet people, BE VULNERABLE. Now listen carefully: there is no shame in wanting to be loved, it’s the most human thing to feel. Work on this and many of your problems will vanish, like literally be banned from your life.

COMMENT ‘111’ To claim this! 🌙DM for a personal tarot reading🌙

✨333✨

*If all this isn’t happening currently, it means you must make it happen* NEW BEGINNINGS. All the conflict and shame is in the past, all the cold wars, all the over analysis, complaining and gossiping, all the plans are out the window. It is a fresh new start. ‘Beautiful’ by NCT might be relevant for you. You have worked hard to save relationships, biting your tounge and all to the deterioration of your own happiness. No more. You are done. You are done in a good way. ALL YOUR focus and all you energy is being invested in changes, changing decor, moving homes, letting go of the stuff in your house that doesn’t bring you joy, a de-clutter. It’s like moving into a new environment where no one has a pre-concieved notion of who you are, so you can begin anew. You can be who you want to be. You are being told to not rush the process, it might already be at a good velocity, learn from your past but not let old experiences get in the way of making new ones. LEAVE THE BAGGAGE. CUT CORDS. It seems like you are moving away from family and siblings for some of you. A year from now, it’s a different story, a good one. CHANNELED PHRASES: new home, relief, reminiscing past as simply past with no negativity. You are a hard worker and it will be rewarded and I know you are tired of hearing the word patient, but you will be rewarded soon. Fight for your place in the world, don’t let people walk over you. Remember Energy flows where attention goes, if you constantly keep replaying the past in your head like a cassette and its like asking ‘Why won’t the music stop when I hit replay’, its because you are replaying it, and harbouring resentment. LEARN TO FIGHT BACK. Don’t show the other cheek, and make do. Make the best of the situation but that doesn’t mean you let go of your rights, please communicate your desires and work towards it, instead of running away from conflict. COMMENT ‘333’ To claim this! 🌙DM for a personal tarot reading🌙

EL TAROT

#pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #pac reading #pick a card reading #ask response #pick a photo #pick a card #free tarot #pac tarot #life #change life #channeled message #channeled reading #guidance

490 notes · View notes

har-rison-s · 5 months

Text

fear or endearment | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: hello people of tumblr. yes, i'm getting on the train of writing for coryolanus snow (save me). he's just so writeable before the 10th games, i feel. after that i lose any touch with him, honestly, idk. bad man. welp! enjoy this little short blurb i thought of while i was at work yesterday (no connection, tho, just day dreaming). happy reading <3

warnings: none except snow's manipulative, calculating personality; this is pre-10th games snow btw

word count: 1,894

gif credit goes to owner <3

“you only like me because i bring you free stuff,” she says, her lips wearing a smile that holds the sadness of the half-joke she just made. it’s only an ironic way of saying the truth, and she thinks him a fool not to admit it. her hands get busy with carefully emptying the messenger bag full of food leftovers and pastries that the kitchen in her house deemed as unworthy for her family.

“not true,” coryolanus says with a gentle shake of his too-perfect head, eyes looking at her instead of raking over the gifts she’s brought. they’ll keep him and his family away from hunger for a week at least, if they plan carefully, “i like you regardless of that.”

she shakes her head with more conviction. it’s one thing to lie to himself about it, it’s another to tell the lie to her face. her face that has seen the brutal truth in people, her eyes that can see through any facade. it’s the reason she doesn’t watch television unless she absolutely necessarily has to – the facade built up around the ugly truth makes her sick to her stomach. “oh, yes, and my dream is to become a peacekeeper.” her sharp tongue responds.

coryolanus considers her words and the sarcastic look on her face, the faint grin she wears. he doesn’t like being confused, and yet she makes him feel that way very often. sarcasm is her companion in every conversation, and coryolanus suspects he might be one of the only people in the world she shows her bare soul and heart to, and even then she shows very little. her rebellious nature, though, is what makes him worried for her. sometimes he thinks he ought to follow her in her ways, even though it wouldn’t be easy. it would also be going against everything he’s fought so hard to have, and would continue to fight for.

coryolanus shakes his head in confusion, his cheeks blushing just the faintest tone of pink and curls trembling along with his head movements. she laughs fruitfully at knowing she made him confused, her head hanging back for a moment. she closes her bag, its contents emptied on coryo’s kitchen table, and looks down on them. “i know you wonder why i say things like that,” she looks up at him again, and coryo nods, his lips bit back in a faint smile, “can’t help it. must be some security mechanism in me, to joke or draw irony in serious matters.” she shuffles herself onto the table’s surface, now getting the view of coryo in front of her instead of having to wring her neck around every time to just look at him standing beside her. coryo nods again and smiles wider. “sometimes i want to shut up, but i just can’t seem to. and that tends to get me in trouble quite a lot. you know that well.”

ah, yes, her rebellious nature that gets in the way of her education and reputation up-keeping. he might just be her only friend at school, because no one wants to associate themselves with such a rebellious girl as her. sejanus has been nice to her, but coryo guesses he lacks the courage to talk to her. coryo makes a grin and takes a step closer to her. her genuine eyes find his again and she searches them for some bit of truth. it’s hard for most people to guess what he’s thinking, but not for her. “i like you for that,” coryolanus tells her, and she furrows her eyebrows because by looking into is eyes she knows it’s the truth that he’s telling.

“hmm,” she just hums in surprise, “i know it upsets you, too. and that you worry about me, and that’s why you get me out of trouble, even if you don’t have to. you and your perfect attendance and grades, perfect attitude.” she counts off, and it almost sounds like she despises him for all these things. coryo shakes his head, eyelids fluttering while looking at her still.

“you of all people know how imperfect i am,” he says, “look where i have to live,” he gestures around the kitchen. but her smile drops, “it’s almost nothing compared to your place.”

“where we live doesn’t say much about us,” she responds, “so many people at school think i’m this spoiled princess of the capitol living in my great mansion with mother and father.” she rolls her eyes. “only thing perfect about me are my grades, and even they are being pulled down because of my attitude.” she sighs. coryo nods, understanding, and stays close to her. “i’m really a rebellious child whose parents hardly have patience for. it’s not like i try to get into trouble, it just so happens that my opinions don’t go well with everyone else’s. i know i’m not the only one, but i might be the only one with guts to say those opinions.” she shrugs. “you know that associating with me can get you into trouble, too.”

coryo nods. “but it hasn’t this far,” he responds with a kind smile as the two of them look at each other. she wishes she could respond with a smile half as true as his current one, but her character has been beaten down. her eyelids flutter and she looks down at her hands.

“why do you get me out of trouble, then? why do you worry about me?” she asks quietly. “we both know you shouldn’t.”

“you don’t believe me when i say it,” coryo says, reminding her of the beginning of their conversation. she looks up at him again, chin raised. he’s wounded by her disbelief.

“what?” she asks in half a whisper. coryo tilts his head, his facial expression saying that his answer should be obvious. his hand hesitantly reaches out to hers in her lap, gently coating her intertwined palms. she’s almost forgot how to breathe. he’s never touched her hands before. it’s always a hand at the small of her back, on her shoulder, arms around her. never the hands. it almost seems like he was saving them for... something.

“i like you,” coryo says just as quietly, hand over hers and eyes looking at her, this intense emotion suddenly between them in the air, “not just for the free stuff. it’s the depth of your heart and kindness,” one i know i’ll never have, “and your courageous nature.”

she smiles. “you have courage, too, coryo,” she tells him quietly, and finds herself lost in him now that he’s so close to her. his ice-cold heart warms at her using the nickname for him. she intertwines their fingers now, raising the formed knot higher between them, so that it would enter their line of vision. coryo looks at it, and his heart lurches in his chest, making him feel nearly on the point of fainting, “you do,” she says again, “you just need to... channel it in the right direction.” she utters in a the quietest of whispers.

coryolanus doesn’t dare a make a noise even though his throat is dry and he needs to clear it, but he fears anything louder than a whisper might ruin everything, even his heart feels like it’s hammering too loud in his chest, “like this?” he asks in a faint voice, and she furrows her eyebrows at the weird question, but doesn’t get to doubt it because coryo is pressing his lips to hers, adding even more value to their moment together.

for a person who is always able to calculate things to come, she is surprised because this she didn’t calculate at any point. but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t waited for him to do this, to take a next step, for at least a few weeks now. her courage faded away any chance she had to do the same, to be the one who takes the first step.

she grips his hand between them even harder, and her other hand goes to cradle the side of his face, but after the first few kisses their hands untie and she uses both of hers to hold his face, while coryo is too shy to touch her. she pulls away, both of them out of breath, and they look at each other. stunned. thrilled. without words to say about what they just did.

“yeah, like that,” she finally breathes in response, always having something cheeky up her sleeve, “only...” she takes both of his hands in hers and places them on her waist, where they fit nearly like a magnet. coryo breathes a quiet sigh of relief, it was where he thought of embracing her, but somehow lacked the guts to do so. looking at each other, she nods at him and coryo makes a small smile. “i know you like me now,” she says quietly, and coryo even chuckles, “you wouldn’t be so nervous about me otherwise.”

he nods, succumbing to the defeat of her cracking him, and stands between her legs that dangle off the side of the table. his hands on her fit right in place, both of them feeling that they’re always meant to be there. “sometimes, uh...” coryo shakes his head, a little nervous to say what he wants to, but she urges him on with her hand on his cheek serving a comforting touch, and he blushes when he looks at her, “sometimes i don’t know if i like you or i’m scared of you.” he admits.

it makes her laugh out loud, as if it was the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard someone say. her head hangs low, and then rests against his chest once her laughter has started to subside. coryo feels embarrassed that he admitted that now, but he wraps his arms around her nonetheless. he knows she means no harm.

she looks up at him, hands on his chest, and gets real close to his face again, “you better figure it out real soon, coryo,” she tells him, “i don’t want to be with someone who’s scared of me. i want them to be with me because they like me.” she says truthfully and coryo nods. he’s never really been around a girl or woman who’s made him feel like she has. it’s hard to explain, but her rebellious nature, her unpredictability are what scare him, but also what endear her to him. make him like her so much. makes his heart jump out of his chest when she speaks against a professor or simply flees a classroom.

“i like you,” coryo assures her, “and i’m glad you want to be with me, too.” he says and they smile at each other. she nods at him and leans into his chest into a long embrace neither of them really want to get out of.

coryolanus is scared of the consequences of her actions, scared for where it will make him end up. but life with her has colour. he doesn’t exactly want to give that up because he might get in trouble. he finds a way out of it with his wit and charm, anyhow. whatever problems she could get him into by being herself he can easily get out of, so maybe taking risks isn’t that deadly of a thing. not for her.

permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @xoxobabydolls @corallyink @rottenstyx

let me know if you want to be tagged in the future !!!

part 2

#har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s work #coryolanus snow #coryolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #coryo snow x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfic #coryo snow fanfic #coryo snow x fem!reader #coryo snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

303 notes · View notes

empressgeekt · 1 month

Text

Trolls - Branch and Keith Brothers AU

HI!!! I'm back! With more Trolls plot bunnies. This one does not take place in the Prince Char Au, or the Veneer re-carnation one. It's completely separate and closer to canon.

Pre-movie.

Keith is the little trolling who likes to watch his parents sleep, and it's clear by the reactions from his classmates that he's not the most popular kid. A bit of a odd outsider, that finds happiness in things that others don't. There's another troll in Pop village who's a bit of an outsider, our favorite grump, Branch.

Branch would be in the village market one winter day, making some rare purchases rather then getting them from the wilds, when he first comes across Keith. The trolling would've been lost, left behind by his classmates. Branch would be a little confused by the kids blankness, but he isn't going to leave a kid lost in the snow, and helps Keith get back home to his dad. One the way he asks if this, keith getting left behind, happened often. Keith would blankly gripe about it, and how he thought his friends didn't actually like him, and he didn't think he liked them. Branch says that friends should like each other.

Couple of weeks later, Branch is working on gathering supplies, and Keith appears out of no where, then continues to follow the grey troll. When Branch asks what Keith is doing. Keith says, "You said befriend people I like." "Yeah so?" "I like you."

It throws Branch off, no one liked him.

Keith would continue to find and follow Branch for the next few days, it's only after a chance run in with a predator, that the grey troll realizes this kid isn't going away, and he starts training Keith in the ways of survival. Even more shockingly Keith listens to him when he's teaching. Everyone in the village always called Branch crazy with his survival bunker and apocalypse prep, but Keith listens intently. Even if it doesn't appear like it. Branch teaches Keith about, the forest, which fruits were safe to eat and where/when they grew. How to defend yourself from different type dangerous predators. And even about some of the extra traps and defenses Branch made for the village.

Branch gets used to his new little protégée, and honestly likes being able to pass on his knowledge to someone. He eventually learns to read the subtle differences in Keith's expressionless expressions to know how the kid's mood is, whether it's happy or upset. One day, Keith comes to visit Branch upset. Seeing the kid angry makes something in Branch's stomach turn, and he has this need to fix it. He doesn't know how, he hasn't comforted someone in years. So, pulling from vague memories of Floyd helping him when Branch was upset, he asks Keith what's wrong. Keith's upset about the other kids calling his school project weird. They were supposed to make a short presentation on people, they care about and Keith chose Branch. None of the kids would listen to him and said, that Branch was weirdo, and Keith was weirdo and they deserved each other. It made Keith Mad, because, he doesn't think Branch is weird, he thinks the Grey troll is cool and he doesn't want people to be mean to him. Branch does his best to console, Keith saying that sometimes people just don't agree with you no matter how hard you try to convince them, sometimes people just can't hear you.

K: Some times it feels like no one hears me

B: Yeah, I get that. it sucks, Makes you think their something wrong with you. But there isn't. Different doesn't mean bad, it just means you see things other don't.

Keith hugs Branch, and he can't turn the kid away. It's the first person the grey troll hugs in nearly twenty years.

K: Thank you, Branch

B: No problem kid, I'm always here.

K: I've always wanted a brother.

After this, Branch fully is attached. He goes all out for Keith any chance he gets. He's always there if Keith is upset, or to help with home work. Keith is one of the few people Branch allows in the Bunker. Branch makes sure, that he'd be the brother to Keith that his own were never to him. Always there.

Especially when Keith suddenly loses his dad. Branch fights and fights hard to keep Keith, knowing just how much the grief of losing a caretaker is crushing the kid. Unsurprisingly, the Pop trolls foster system fails Keith and eventually Branch gains his custody. "Let the outsider raise an outsider." Keith moves into the bunker, and Branch is with the trolling no matter what, making sure that this kid never goes Grey like he did. Though, waking up to Keith just staring at him is a little startling at first, but branch gets over it, anything to make the kid more comfortable.

By the events of the first movie, Keith has fully moved in with Branch and stays with him during the Chef's attack. And after the whole village is hidden in the bunker by Poppy, Keith pushes Branch to go after her. Peppy stepping up to watch over Keith while Branch is gone. All through out the mission Branch is thinking about Keith, worried how he's fair one his own, because while he can trust Peppy to make sure Keith doesn't die, he doesn't' trust the king to take care of Keith's mental health. They're reunion in the bergan pot is a hard one. On one hand, Branch is happy to have Keith back in sight, but on the other he feels like a failure for not being able to protect Keith from getting eaten. And When Keith goes grey in his arms...let's just say Branch isn't going down with out a fight.

I have no plans for World Tour, other then the possibility of Keith ending up captured with Poppy, and Barb mistaking Keith as her and Branch's son.

Its in Band together that things get a little more interesting...

Keith is Gristle and Bridget's ring bearer, though the rings are to big for him to hold, so he just stands inside of them to keep them from rolling away, with a very flat smile. Poppy and Branch end up dating in this two, and she does put in effort to get to know Keith, understanding that the trolling would be in branch's care for years to come. She's not as good at reading him, but she's getting better at it. And she finds Branch's caregiver side, adorable.

"Stop the Wedding!"

When John Dory shows up, Keith leaves his post, and runs to Branch after the elder troll was finished being man handled, bY JD. John is thrown off by the sight of a tiny Trolling in Branch's Arms. Seriously, when did his baby brother get a baby? Or a girlfriend? Was the kid theirs? Oh crap he missed a lot....

Keith is angry, through out the course of the third movie. Branch had already told him about their (yes, their, Keith is branch's brother now, which sadly makes him also related to these idiots) brothers, and how they all walked out on him. Keith has seen how much this hurt Branch, and how much they are hurting Branch now, he's clinging to his older brother all through out the mission.

Bruce is also shocked, and kind of feels bad, because Keith would be in Branch's hair when Bruce tossed him jostling the trolling. But he likes kids, so quickly warms up to the idea of Keith being a new baby brother. Even if he creeps Bruce out. And Keith is constantly creeping him out on purpose...thought Bruce doesn't realize it.

Keith doesn't like the hustle button.

Clay is scared of Keith. Because thanks to living with Branch the trolling can point out all of his safety measures and traps, understand how the work, and how to out smart them.

While practicing, John tries to get Keith toe join in but the trolling will only sing the words in the same flat stale note. Branch knows he's messing with john (Keith naturally sings flat but he's not that tone deaf) but doesn't say anything. Keith is hugging Branch all through out the fight, and along with poppy promises to not leave.

Floyd's too tired to really notice Keith until after he's rescued, however he's curious about the trolling. He feels proud watching Branch take care of trolling, but it also makes his stomach churn. Watching Branch with Poppy and Keith it feels like he's looking in on a family that Branch built and he missed it. Floyd would move into the bunker continuing his recovery, and during that is where he really interacting with Keith. He finds the kid adorable, not in the sparkly eyes way that Branch was but utterly adorable none the less. Keith becomes family to him too.

The fic would conclude with All the brother's accepting the fact that Branch and Keith are a package deal, and apologizing to branch for abandoning him (Keith and Poppy don't let them get away with shit). There's no long five brothers in Brozone, but six....and at least three sister-in-law...

120 notes · View notes

maliland · 6 months

Text

RESENTMENT: PT. 1

"i gotta look her in her eyes and see she's had half of me." part two

barbie(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: flashbacks/backstory stuff, angst, infidelity, homewrecking, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 2669 banner credz: @/cafekitsune

a/n: first fic on this ho 😓 nervous. idk if i like this so i was procrastinating.. but lmk what y’all think! 🫣 i’ll post a post a poll the end of the fic. if y’all like it then i’ll finish up the second part and post it whenever i get a chance. i haven't proof read, but i'll fix any mistakes when i do.

(nd let me ease your nerves: this is not a fic where miles cheats on reader w/ gwen. she isn’t included in or mentioned in this part or the next 😭)

unfaithfulness might as well be a disease. not one that can be contracted, but one that stems from within.

those who are unfaithful are unequivocally the weakest links. you? you've always presumed them to be snakes that were to join lucifer on earth at the very beginning of time, because they'd rather cause havoc and jeopardize how those they love perceive them rather than relish eternal peace in the clouds. had adam and eve left the forbidden fruit alone, the one thing that those unfaithful could've stayed faithful to was their identity as whispering serpents. alas, that's not how the story goes. and for the sake of free will, god decided they should reside on earth with those who know nothing but faith.

betrayal isn't limited to one kind of person. whether the relationship is romantic or platonic, anyone can smile in your face, only to turn around and drive a pre-sharpened knife right through your back when you least expect it. you're left to bleed out while you try and make sense of why it had to be you.

you've been double-crossed before, but never bad enough to the point where you needed to make a huge deal out of it. it was usually stupid stuff, like your elementary friends ratting out your genius hiding spot during hide and seek after they got found, or your mom revoking her promise to take you to the park that one day after school when you were younger. your ex-best friend from middle school spreading nasty rumors about you was far more serious than all the other instances, and it was probably the worst one until now.

you know that girls and guys alike get cheated on. you've heard stories and even seen it happen firsthand. infidelity occurs more frequently than you initially thought it did. then again, you tried not to think about it much because you were positive it would never happen to you. ever. especially not with your boyfriend, miles.

that was your first mistake—thinking you were immune.

you wanted to gauge your eyes out when your best friend video called you and showed you that photo of miles kissing another girl in a bedroom at a halloween party.

the girl you were once worried about.

❤︎₊ ⊹

when you were younger, you were in love with the idea of being in love.

many of your earliest memories consisted of your father reading you fairytales right before bed, since your mother was never around to do so. when he learned that you took a liking to stories that were more centered around love, he began to look for various fairytales pertaining to such that he could read to you. you adored how the love interests would always end up together by the end of each and every story. after enduring all the conflict getting in the way of their relationship thriving, it felt like a reward. you always felt secure knowing a happy ending was guaranteed no matter what transpired throughout the story. you liked that security, but your obsession with it inevitably flawed your perception of love itself. you grew up under the impression that love in the reality in which you reside wouldn't be all that different from the fairytales.

it hurt you when you finally discovered that that wasn't the case. in eighth grade, you had asked your crush to the winter formal. he had harshly rejected you, cracking the most heartless jokes in addition, in attempt to impress his friends, who were indeed laughing up a storm. that encounter alone was enough to ground you to earth. you discovered how disappointing the world and its inhabitants truly were, and how the unrealistic fairytales you once swooned over would never be real life. maybe it was insane of you to ever even think so, given the perilous city you live in.

seeing as dating these days is more detrimental than beneficial, during your sophomore year of high school, you decided that you'd steer clear from being romantically involved in any way, shape, or form entirely. of course, the universe always sends you someone or something you stopped wishing for ages ago when you least expect it. maybe something you didn't even long for anymore at all. you were perfectly okay with sticking to romance novels. you sure didn't want to put your peace on the line, especially not in the name of romance—but someone changed that.

miles.

you knew of his existence before you started dating him, but only briefly. you had an algebra class together your sophomore year, but the boy was quite reserved, only speaking when spoken to. trying to keep to himself and stay out of your school's public eye completely backfired on him, because he became the topic of everyone's conversations multiple times for a full week after his father, the former police captain, passed away.

officer morales' death was a humbling reminder that brooklyn would only continue to grow more and more minacious. you haven't gone for a walk at night by yourself for as long as you can remember. you'd either be mugged, killed, or both. on the streets of new york, there was peril lurking around every corner. the city has more loose criminals than you were able to count on your fingers. you got used to living in such an environment, but your arm hairs never did stop shooting up whenever you had to step outside.

you recall giving your condolences to miles when he returned to school two weeks later. he had just nodded. you couldn't blame him though. everyone was constantly reminding him of something he'd rather not think about.

if he wasn't reticent and constrained to silence before, he was sure as hell was now. you tried your luck with him anyway, though.

whenever you'd see him sketching in his sketchbook in algebra, you'd compliment his skill or ask him what he was drawing. maybe it seemed a little invasive at the time, but your heart was in the right place.

"i didn't know you could draw," you whispered to him. your desk was right next to his, so ignoring you wasn't really an option.

"yeah."

"that's cool, art takes skill—and patience," you had smiled.

"mhm."

you fell into a routine of asking miles what he was drawing every day in class. he was undoubtedly annoyed by it at first, but he eventually got used to it, and you finally got more than a one-word response. it was this conversation in particular that changed the way miles saw you.

"is that the prowler's suit you're drawing?" you whispered, surveying the page.

miles nodded and responded flatly. "yeah."

"i think it looks cool. i really like his suit design," you retorted. "especially the purple."

"you do?" he stopped drawing completely and looked up at you.

"hell yeah," you expressed with a faint grin. "he may be a criminal or whatever, but you gotta admit, his suit and his tech are pretty neat."

so then you two were friends for a couple of months. you'd do things like eat dinner at his house, help around the flat, and study together. surprisingly, miles' mom, rio, took a liking to you. she even taught you how to cook, and would let you assist with fixing dinner.

miles had it was rare for his mama to warm up to people as fast as she did to you, and that made you feel special.

within the period of time in which you and miles would hang out, you ended up catching feelings for him, which you pushed to the side without a second thought. you still firmly believed that a relationship would bring you nothing but trouble. what you didn't know was that miles felt the same way about you as you did him, and eventually, he decided that he couldn't hide his feelings for you anymore.

miles confessed to you one night under the water tower on the roof of his apartment complex. you'd been watching the sun go down together and talking about whatever came to mind. you could've gazed into his perfectly sculpted face until the end of time. you doted on the way his eyes glowed gold when the sun hit them just right.

"you helped me open up. i didn't think that was something i was capable of doing anymore," he had told you. "i really do like you, [name]."

though you were terrified of putting yourself in a position to be played, you didn't want to say no, so you didn't.

for the two years you've been with miles, you've never not trusted him. he's never given you a reason not to. he's always treated you like royalty, practically kneeling at your feet like being in your presence was a reward all by itself—at least that's what you felt like being his girlfriend equated to.

it's no secret that miles tends to capture the attention of numerous girls without ever even having to try, whether they went to your school or simply passed him by on the street. miles didn't even have to lift a finger to have them drooling.

when you two got together, you didn't announce your relationship to the public like you were some kind of celebrity couple. that didn't stop people from gossiping like you were, though. according to everyone who went to visions, "miles and [name] popped out with each other out of nowhere!" and that was okay with you. nobody needed to know the ins and outs of you two's relationship. unfortunately, the obvious fact that you and miles were together didn't stop girls from constantly trying to have their way with him—one girl in particular was more persistent than the rest.

you'd be lying through your teeth if you said it didn't bother you at first, because it made you sick to your stomach. the thought of miles leaving you for one of those girls was one you couldn't bear.

you vividly recall standing beside miles while he was situating his books in his locker before a girl who was well-known around campus, arielle, approached your boyfriend on the opposite side and 'not-so-subtly' flirted with him like you weren't even there. it was no secret that she didn't like you, so you were stuck between trying to figure out if she actually liked miles or was just trying to get under your skin. all you knew was the way she was twirling her perfectly spiraled, bouncy, brown curls around her index while she bit her lip bottom had you undeniably heated.

"so miles, i've been learning how to braid hair," she had said. "honestly, i think i've pretty much mastered it. i want to practice cornrows... problem is, i couldn't find anyone with the type of hair i prefer to practice on, but then i saw you!"

you had to turn around and face the opposite direction just to hide the distaste that hastily painted your once-neutral expression. you brought your arm to your mouth and coughed twice so it wouldn't look like you were turning around for no reason. when you turned back around, arielle was looking you dead in the eyes, like you had done something horrible to her. you were surprised that she decided to give you even a fraction of her attention instead of acting like you were a ghost altogether.

you returned the energy, narrowing your eyes to slits. you weren't going to go toe to toe with another girl over a boy who was clearly yours. you had just redone miles' hair not even three full days ago, so she'd had to find another guy to practice on.

you shifted your gaze onto miles as he closed his locker. he hadn't even said a word to arielle up to that point, or even looked at her. when he finally made eye contact with the girl, she smiled innocently, as if she wasn't trying to murder you by burning holes through your skull with the way she was staring at you.

you were no longer bothered by the time miles turned his head to look at you. the way his face was twisted was more than telling, with confusion written all over it. you read that boy like a book.

"i mean, come on," arielle giggled. "you'd be the perfect person to practice on."

this girl didn't know when to stop. you were silently growing furious, wishing miles would take your hand and drag you away from that foolishness, but no. instead, he chose to engage in conversation with arielle.

"what do you think of my hair now?" miles asked.

this made your stomach drop, but it didn't show on your face. instead of saying anything or trying to figure out why miles cared what this random ass girl thought, you stood still where you were, waiting for the worst to be over. at the time, you and miles had only been together for about five and a half months. you didn't expect your first relationship to end that quickly. if this conversation didn't wrap up soon, you were sure that your head would start spinning and you'd pass out on the spot.

"of course! the two braids always look so good on you. i love them," arielle angled her head and leaned against the locker next to miles'.

"so do i," miles smirked, snaking one of his arms around your upper back to the shoulder furthest away from him. he pressed his palm against your arm and gently urged you closer to him, pointing to you with his free hand then looking back at arielle. "my girl got me right the other day, and she did a damn good job."

a smile crept up onto your face. for only half of a second, you didn't want to come off like one of those annoying moms of five who got the last 75" flat-screen tv during black friday and rubbed it in everyone's faces in the checkout line, until you remembered who's boyfriend miles was.

yours.

you had bragging rights.

"thanks, miles," you looked up at him, smiling brightly as any and all doubts left your mind. your eyes soon met with arielle's again, who was in disbelief. it seemed that you'd exchanged expressions. you were the one geeking now.

"damn, i'd say gossip doesn't spread like it used to, but the looks you were giving me tell me you know we're together and don't care."

arielle shifted her weight off of the locker, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. she was never one to admit, let alone accept defeat.

"girl, c'mon. don't be lame. miles wouldn't cheat on me. it's even crazier that you thought he'd flirt back while i was standing right here."

"have it your way, but he's gonna crack."

with that, arielle scoffed, opting to leave the situation alone for the day. that wouldn't be the last time she tried something like that, and it probably wasn't the first either. you just happened to be around to see it that time. it made you wonder how miles reacted every other time. you were also quick to question why she claimed miles would "crack." it rubbed you the wrong way.

"she's jus' talkin' outta her ass, hermosa. she likes attention," miles assured you.

for whatever reason, that response alone didn't satisfy you. you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach for the rest of the day. you remember calling miles that same night while you both did homework. in the midst of the comfortable silence that had settled, you decided to bring up how you felt about what had happened.

"i won't lie, earlier today, i was a little scared," you admitted.

"of what?"

"i thought you were gonna ditch me for arielle," you replied, letting out a deep sigh at the same time.

"i'd never," miles promised you. "te amo, chica. and only you. i'm with you for a reason."

"i love you, too," you grinned, genuinely feeling at ease. "i was just paranoid. i know now that you'd never do that to me."

the invasive thoughts that often crowded your mind and kept you up late at night; the ones listing each and every reason why your relationship with miles would crash and burn? they haven't bothered you since then.

©maybemymali

#dollzluvmali 💗#miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #e-42 miles morales x reader #earth-42 #across the spiderverse #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #spiderverse #into the spider verse #itsv #atsv #miles g morales x reader #miles g

309 notes · View notes

queerquinnn · 2 years

Text

steve harrington is so fucking touch starved, it’s insane. he’s just never experienced it, who was there to hug him? his parents? yeah right. nannies? too busy. nancy? she doesn’t strike me as the most cuddly person.

so when eddie comes around, always up in steves personal space, touching him, always in his vicinity, it overwhelms steve a little. cause you know, it’s not just about touch, it’s affection and love and he cant have that with a guy, right? he’s straight after all.

steve spends the nights alone, hugging himself, cuddling into pillows, wrapping himself in blankets and at some point he remembers tommy h. tommy, who sometimes clapped him on the back. tommy, who would hold his hand in pre-school. tommy, who shoved him against a car. and his mind wanders to eddie, again. it does that quite a lot in the past few weeks. steve calls robin and explains it all to her and has to wait five minutes for her to stop laughing, before she says through tears "you’re not straight, dingus" and hangs up.

the thought develops in his brain. he’s heard of bisexuality, robins mentioned it at some point. he tries to describe himself like that and figures it fits, why shouldnt he get to like both?

he quickly not only embraces eddies touchiness, but reciprocates. his hands linger on eddies arms, he hugs him as he comes and goes, the end up cuddling during movie nights. eddie notices this change but he’s so scared, i mean this is harrington. king steve. there’s no way, right? but when eddie finds himself cuddled between a bunch of kids in the harrington mansion, steve on his lap, pretty much cuddling himself deeper into his embrace, he almost kisses him right then and there.

eddie comes back the next day because he forgot something and jokingly mentions it to steve, mentions how if he’d have asked, eddie would’ve kissed him last night. steve turns red and stumbles his way to the question "and if i ask now?" eddie swears his heart stops for 30 seconds but they end up kissing. it starts out gentle and soft, not wanting to overstep, but they end up in steves bed making out like horny teenagers. eddie stays that night and steve has never slept better than with eddie wrapped around him, spooning him, caressing his cheek and kissing his forehead.

like my stuff? there’s more

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things s4 #quinnn rambles #quinnns writing #gayer things #steddie #steddie headcanon #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie x steve

1K notes · View notes

madelynraemunson · 2 months

Text

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

MODERN AU • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

slight age gap (Steve is 31, reader is 23); reader goes by the nickname "Sweets"

CW: slight age gap relationship, drinking, smoking, gambling, physical altercations, manipulation, abuse (DV, emotional, financial, mental), profanities, eventual smut

*loosely inspired by sara cate’s salacious players club*

Summary: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. Steve Harrington has the WORST luck with the ladies. His high school sweetheart left him for another dude, his former fuck buddy is dating his roommate, and his dream girl is a lesbian. King Steve is losing hope. That is until he meets you — a newly graduated university student from Seattle — when your paths cross on a fateful night in Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... that is until your risky business trickles over to Hawkins, Indiana, a town your best friend knows of a little too well.

theme song: call out my name by the weeknd

tag list is open 💌✨

Chapter 001: PROLOGUE

word count: 1.7k words

♛

Winter 2024

“WATCH OUT INDIANAPOLIS — you're about to get... absolutely SOAKED!”

The booming voice of a man in Steve’s bedroom stirs him awake.

Letting out a ferocious yawn, The King rubs his eyes free of the annoying crust in the corner of his sockets, flopping around one more time before doing his routine stretch.

“Google,” Steve commands. “Turn off the TV.”

The TV immediately switches off. It’s nothing personal to meteorologist Marcus Bailey, but if Steve ever needed an accurate forecast of Indianapolis, all he would have to do is look outside his penthouse window. And that, after brushing his teeth, is just what he does.

"G'morning Indy,” he sighs happily on his balcony before going back inside.

Steve then makes his way over to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast.

“Google,” he calls out again. “Open the curtains, please.”

Google replies:

“Opening curtains. Good morning — Steve.”

"Google, what's my schedule looking like today?" "Google, text Dustin." “Google, what is the weather looking like in Nevada?” “Google, turn on my shower tunes.”

The best thing about not living with Eddie Munson anymore, is that Steve can shamelessly sing Amy Winehouse in the shower without being hounded about it.

“We only saaaid GOODBYE, with WORDS!” Steve sings, confidently off-key. “I died a hundred times! You go back to her, and I goooo baaack toooo…”

"Scanning fingerprint...”

an automated voice announces at the entrance of Steve's walk-in closet.

Swish...

The door slides open. Sauntering his way inside, Steve ventures for some slick black athleisure down to the shoes, his usual musky cologne, and some matching sunglasses (despite the gloomy forecast prediction).

Black. 🎶

Steve Harrington is ready for the day.

---

"Google, make reservations for 3 people at Tony's Steakhouse at 7pm please."

All Steve had left to do for the day now was grocery shop. Which was always a hassle. Because sometimes, the store doesn't have the specific brand he's looking for so the shopper has to opt for an alternate version. Or sometimes, the shopper assigned to him that day chooses produce that is nearing its expiration date making every fruit in his bag a mushy mess. It doesn't happen too often, but it sure feels inconvenient as hell when it does. There are worse problems in life though, so Steve really can't complain.

*Ring, ring. Ring, ring*

The very distinct and custom ringtone has Steve bolting across the room to answer the call. One of his best friends was on the other line.

"Yello?" he says into the phone.

"Hey, it's Shy Girl," comes a voice. "Eddie and I are pulling in."

"Pull off to the side. Valet's got it. I'll send you guys up."

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon a la Steve awaits the pair when they make their way over. Consider it a Tony's pre-game.

"GameWorld stock is up 4% today,” Steve's buddy, and owner of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Eddie Munson announces as the two clink glasses. "I don’t have much faith in it though, figure I’ll get my pie slices from actual grocery stores. Like Meijer.”

“Everyone's always gonna need groceries,” Steve points out. "Definitely. Just don't day trade. Not now."

"Ooh, you hear that, Eds?" Shy Girl nudges him. "You gotta be careful where you put your money."

"I gotta be careful with my money, period," Eddie smirks. "You're a danger to my pockets, angel."

"Oh but you love me," she says.

"Yeah," Eddie gives in, grabbing his lover's dainty digits, trailing his fingers across hers, and rubbing the glistening rock that took up most of her left hand on the distal side. "I sure do."

"I'm just... so proud of us," Steve sappily reflects. "So much has happened over the past two years and we've all come so far."

"Yeah," Shy Girl agrees. "And it's about fucking time we celebrate."

"I agree," Eddie chimes in, raising his glass once again. "This weekend trip is going to be... one for the books."

"Viva Las Vegas," Steve toasts. "Cheers."

"Viva Las Vegas!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Black and red.

They're the two colors that occupy your closet the most. But of course, after graduating from Washington State University (or Wazzu, for short), you expected nothing less.

You could do with some more sequins though, you think to yourself as you pack your bags.

"What do you think of this, Sweets?"

Peering over your shoulder, you see that your best friend, Elle has started festivities early, managing to hold two glasses of champagne in one hand, and six-inch stilletoes in the other.

"Can't take the party out of the girl, that's for damn sure," you respond.

When you left Seattle to attend WSU Pullman, Elle was your only friend in business class. Mainly because the class was predominantly for dudes, but eventually you found out that you two have a lot in common.

Elle is everything you would want in an older sister figure: she is both book smart and wise, she is sexy, and she eats men for breakfast. And, now that she's about to celebrate the launching of her lingerie business (along with her Dirty 30s Era), and you're about to enter your new-grad era, you two are hitting up Las Vegas to go ham together one last time.

It's all so bittersweet. You owe everything to the Warrens, having taken you in when you were a lost undergrad. It also sucked quite a bit not having a support system after graduating high school. You and Elle were all each other has. Which makes this inevitable separation so much more painful.

"Are you sure you're okay with Vegas by the way?" you question. "I know since the split, being surrounded by gorgeous girls 24/7 can kinda be triggering.”

"Don't worry about it, love," she shakes it off. "The past is in the past. This is a new era of me."

Cheers to that. Clinking your airport-pregame champagne glasses with one another, you raise a toast to yourselves, celebrating how far the two of you have come over the past four years.

"To friendship."

"To being elegant and educated."

"To elegance and education."

"And to being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives."

You giggle as you raise your glass of champagne even higher.

"To being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives," you two take a sip at the same time. "And no matter how near and no matter how far, we're always gonna be besties."

"I love you, Sweets."

"I love you too, Isabelle."

divider from @plum98

🏷️ taglist: @potatobeanpie @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut okay i think i tagged everybody

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #joe keery #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Spotify

127 notes · View notes

steddieunderdogfics · 24 days

Text

This week’s writer spotlight feature is: deadratz/@munsonkitten! They have 32 works in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and 31 of those are in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @munsonkitten:

the sound of silence

float among the wreckage

share the same space for a minute or two

you make me feel like i am whole again

sugar on my tongue

"In a fandom with over 20 thousand fics, it's hard to find fics that stand out, and Grim has so many that feel like a breath of fresh air for the characters. His specialty is exploring Eddie's trauma, past and present, and being patient with letting him heal in a messy, realistic way that tears your heart out and puts it back. Grim takes on topics that can be difficult to explain, like trauma and gender exploration, and puts them into words so perfectly. His fics are entertaining and heartfelt and always hot, no matter which one you open, you're in for a treat and he has some hidden gems! Regardless of what's popular, Grim stays true to the characters and it's easy to trust him with them, and that's something to appreciate!" -- anonymous

Below the cut, @munsonkitten answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

When Season 4 came out, I had lost all motivation in my old fandoms. I hadn’t written anything in months, but then I saw Eddie and fell in love instantly. As I was watching, I started to have this little thought like “is anyone else seeing this?” when I saw Steve and Eddie interact, and I ended up on AO3, reading through anything that looked good out of the 300 fics that came out in those first couple of days, and then I kept reading, and I was completely inspired. I was pulled in, and I tried to write something between volumes 1&2 that didn’t go anywhere, but I didn’t want to give up on them because there was just this pull that kept me thinking of them, and then, of course, we saw Eddie’s fate and I immediately had to rectify that in my own way. I love writing Steve and Eddie because they come from very different worlds, but as a queer punk who also played sports in high school, I know firsthand how those worlds can collide and I can relate to both Steve and Eddie and how they fit into their places as the freak/jock. There’s also just a certain coziness that comes with writing Steddie for me, like they’re familiar and something I can find safety in. They’re both complex characters with traumatic experiences and there’s comfort in that and there’s comfort in being able to process my own life through the perspective of the two of them and apply different things to their canon personalities and backstories. It really comes down to, like, even though they’ve fought monsters, they’re really just regular guys, too. They’re relatable and accessible because their lives are pretty average without the monster stuff. I don’t find myself wasting time doing tons of research about certain jobs or lifestyles as I have with other pairings in the past. Steddie has just given me a lot of freedom to do what I want.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

There are so many tropes that I love. I think a lot of them depend on how they’re written, of course, so even tropes I don’t typically like to read can end up being really good to me. My go-to answer for this is usually pre-dating sharing a bed/only one bed, whether they’re sharing because they get paired up together on a trip; they’re laying low at Steve’s and Steve needs to keep an eye on Eddie while he’s healing; nightmares bringing them to each other in the middle of the night; or one of them just crashing in the other’s bed. I think there’s something so intimate about the way these scenes can be written, something very vulnerable that I just love. There’s a lot of trust that goes into being comfortable enough sleeping near someone else, and I think it’s a really good way to start Steve and Eddie’s relationship. I also love, love like any kind of friends with benefits situation where they’re obviously pining for each other and completely in love but try to pretend the things they do together is just “helping a friend out,” while mutually being in denial of feelings. It serves for great tension and there’s always really good pay off when they start dating.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

My answer for this is really similar to the last one. First and foremost, I write what I want to read. I’m just very drawn to these kinds of fics with pre-relationship intimacy that turns into something solid between them. So I love writing only one bed and pining/fwb/friends to lovers fics as much as I love reading them.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s hard to choose just one favorite after almost two years of reading Steddie fics, but some real stand out fics for me that I’ve read fairly recently have been Trouble Looks Good on You by indelicate, Metamorphoses by fastcardotmp3, Play it Right by stereobone, and Doing Nothing with You by redoaktree. All of these give such nice depth to the characters and their situations and have stuck with me. “Trouble” is still ongoing, but I trust Rue (indelicate) with these characters so much that I can say it’s one of my favorites without having the entire fic yet. It just hits so many of my boxes for Steddie, has all the right factors for a phenomenal fic, and stays so true to the characters in my opinion.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I have so many plans for upcoming fics, but one I’ve been trying to find time to write for over a year now deals with a lot of grief/mourning of a loved one and includes rockstar!Eddie with a good slooow burn. It’s all things I’ve somewhat explored, but want to really expand upon with this one. I feel like I haven’t written a proper slow burn, either, because I tend to do fwb situations with slow burns on the emotional aspects and admitting feelings part of their relationship, and I want to do a full slowburn in more aspects of their relationship.

What is your writing process like?

Usually I’m inspired by something, whether it’s a situation that happens to me or something I see on TV, and I think about what kinds of stories could be told with those elements. Sometimes I take one trope and try to build a fic around it, sometimes I see a tiktok or a scene in a show and decide I need to use that in something. Other times, I just have a sentence in my head that I have to write down and it turns into a whole page and then suddenly I have 5k words. A lot of my process is spent brainstorming with friends, talking through scenarios and seeing what kinds of responses they get, other times I have an idea and I run with it and don’t tell anyone until it’s done. There are some fics I’ve fully outlined and then gone in completely different directions, and there are some fics I never wrote down a single note for. I’ve had a few fics that started as just single sentences and turned into paragraphs and merged them with other ideas in other documents. My process is kind of chaotic and always changes, if I’m being honest, but it works for me. I think it entirely depends on the mood of the fic I’m trying to write, how much research goes into it, and how long it’s going to be, and all of that. Sometimes I’ll sit down to write something fully knowing it won’t go anywhere just to get me into a writing mood. I’m really all over the place with my process.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I don’t know if this is really a quirk, but I’m the type of person who will go weeks without writing anything and then suddenly have an entire chapter or oneshot finished in two days. I procrastinate until I realize I need to do something or until inspiration really hits me and then I just lock it in and write nonstop until it’s done.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

This is kind of fic-dependent. If I know for sure that I have the time and motivation for a story, I post as soon as I get chapters finished. If I know I don’t have the capacity for another long form fic, I’ll write out the first chapter and leave it in my drafts until I get a bit further on it, just working when I’m between other projects or stumped on something else. I wouldn’t exactly say I post on a schedule because it’s nowhere near consistent, but I’ve never finished a full multi-chaptered fic before I start posting. I do write a lot of oneshots and two chapter shorter fics, though, so those two chaptered ones are usually close to finished before I post them.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Hands down, the sound of silence. They’re not done yet, but ‘you make me feel like i am whole again,’ and ‘sugar on my tongue’ are also up there with ‘sound of silence.’ It’s my longest fic in this fandom (currently) and my second longest fic I’ve ever written. I put so much of myself into this fic and I’m just really proud of myself for it. There were some definite challenges with this one, with one character in the main pairing barely having any dialogue for the first half of the fic, with the other half of the pairing navigating his newfound sexuality and his life being turned upside down yet again, and I also have a few outsider POVs like Wayne, El, Robin and Hopper sprinkled in there, which is always difficult to work in for me. I’m proud of myself for doing all of that and finishing it.

How did you get the idea for the sound of silence?

This fic started as two separate documents, just unconnected pieces of different stories, both of them hitting dead ends with no hope for continuation. I had started with just a simple idea of Wayne and Steve meeting after the events of season 4 put Eddie in the hospital, and I wanted to show the way Wayne cares for the people who love Eddie, and that ended up becoming the beginning of the fic once I put all the pieces together. The other document I had started around the same time was a short Wayne POV about living with Eddie after S4 and the person he turned into after losing so much of himself. I wanted to explore the idea of someone as loud as Eddie going non-verbal for weeks to months at a time (something I explored in a different fandom, so that sort of inspired me to write SOS too), and when I finally put those together, it just felt like everything was so clear to me and I took off with these ideas.

When writing float among the wreckage, what was something you didn’t expect?

Oh boy. This one was actually difficult for me because I wanted it to be a hate sex fic, and I realized I’m just incapable of making Steve and Eddie hate each other at all. I did something like that one other time earlier when the fandom was still pretty new, but wreckage came to me nearly a year into writing them and I’d really cemented the idea of these characters in my head, and it was just… Very unexpected that I struggled to tap into that tension and hatred. It ended up being less about hating each other and more about misplaced/misidentified feelings in the end.

What inspired share the same space for a minute or two?

I think my friend Teddy actually gave me the main idea for this one. An end of the world “I’m going to die a virgin” apocalypse setting during “season 5.” From that, I just started writing and saw where it took me, and I’m happy with where I took it. Sometimes all I need is one sentence and then I have 11k words written in just a few days, and that fic was one of those times.

What was your favorite part to write from sugar on my tongue?

This is a really hard question because I love so much of this fic and it’s still ongoing so I might still write something I love even more than any previous parts. Without giving too much away, it’s probably a tie between their first smut scene in chapter 1, their club night in chapter 2, and the part in chapter 3 where Eddie’s walking down the road after he runs out of gas and has a lot of introspection about his life and how he finds safety in Steve. One of my close friends told me the writing in that last part was beautiful and I’ve since decided it’s one of my favorite things I’ve written.

How do/did you feel writing the sound of silence?

Sound of Silence was very cathartic for me. I’m so proud of this fic and it deals with so much I rarely see in fanfiction – some of the topics are unsexy and there are a lot of symptoms of mental illness that are highly stigmatized that people just might not want to read in a story. But I knew it was the story I needed to tell for Eddie, mostly, but for Steve, too, and for myself. It’s not always happy, but it’s real to me. Life can be ugly and people can be volatile and traumatized and struggle with sexual function and have undesirable compulsions, and writing that whole fic felt like a release in a way because it’s stuff I relate to and stuff my best friends have also gone through. And the comments on this fic have made me feel seen and less alone in the things I struggle with that I had Steve and Eddie struggle with, as well. I think it’s just really important to have those fics that give at least one reader some comfort in their own situations.

What was the most difficult part of writing you make me feel like i am whole again?

This fic is about gender identity and pregnancy and love and all sorts of stuff that can be hard to put into words. I’ve never experienced a pregnancy, so there’s a lot of research that goes into that, a lot of reading firsthand accounts and finding out all sorts of things that weren’t taught in sex-ed classes. It’s also been a very vulnerable fic for me because Steve and Eddie both experience gender in ways that I do, too. Every time I write about identity and dysphoria through them, I’m putting parts of myself on display for others, and that can be hard, especially when people don’t always understand. I’m very protective over this fic, and I’ve had to defend aspects of it from people who can’t always accept other people’s experiences with gender identity and queerness. That’s been difficult, even well meaning comments can come across as criticism when the writing is so close to home, and it’s been a struggle to keep my head on straight with this one. But as difficult as that may be, the pros outweigh the cons with this fic. It’s so rewarding when people DO relate to the things I write about, and it’s been validating for my own identity and I’ve been told so many times the fic has felt validating to others, too. So as difficult as it can be, I wouldn’t change anything.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I mentioned this bit of sugar on my tongue earlier and I think it’s my current favorite, but I have so many scenes and lines from other fics I’d consider my favorites: The sun beats down on his face and arms. He’s burning, red skin and hot tears. He feels like he needs to crawl out of his own skin. To leave it on the ground and walk away someone else. Someone who doesn’t have to deal with Al Munson, doesn’t have to deal with a town that hates him for things he didn’t do. He wants to be someone who doesn’t have to be Eddie Munson at all. He just wants to be someone else, to feel safe in the skin he wears. He thinks Steve might be the only person who makes him feel that way, even if it’s only for a glimpse, a small fraction of his life. Even if it’s just in the quiet hours of the morning when they’re curled up in Eddie’s bed, or when they’re just two boys kissing in a bar where no one knows their names. He wants to feel like that again. Safe.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m helping with a Sub Eddie Week event in April, so if anyone wants to do a fic or art for that event, you can find all info @subeddieweek. Most of my upcoming work is going to be made for this event, so stay tuned.

Thank you to our author, @munsonkitten, and our anonymous nominator! See more of deadratz works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie writers

59 notes · View notes

13as07 · 3 months

Text

It Hurts

(Itachi Uchahi)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Hikaru Meo]

Requested by: Myself

[Idea inspired by I'm Yours sung by Isabel LaRosa]

Word Count: 3,304

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

I'll fight to my grave that Uchihas go through withdrawals if they're away from the people/person they love for too long

Also, angst. Sorry, not sorry. Suffer and cry like I did while writing it :)

———————————————————————

"Hey," a voice calls softly before a finger is tapped against my forehead.

"Hey," I call back, tearing my eyes out of my textbook to look at the poker. Standing in front of me is Itachi, who's not looking too hot. He's pale, paler than normal, and decorated in sweat droplets. "You don't look too good."

"I'm fine," he mumbles, eyes glancing around the school grounds.

"Your suspension over?" He hums a yes, eyes flickering to me before he goes back to the scenery. "Are you still grounded?" Another hummed yes. "For how long?"

"I don't know," he mutters, shifting his weight around.

His face flashes with pain, visible for only a second, before he's stone-faced again. "You seem sick, maybe you should go home and rest."

"I'm fine," Itachi repeats, eyes landing on me again, but this time they stay put.

"No, you're not. You look like you're dying."

"I'm not dying, Little Crow." My face scrunches at the nickname. I don't like when Itachi uses it, it makes me feel like he's degrading me or has an inside joke that I'm not in on. "I'm just in a bit of pain. It'll subside."

"Why are you in pain?" I yelp, my words soaked in worry. Because of my worry, I'm on my feet, sliding my hands over my best friend in search of any injuries. "I thought you didn't start duty for another two weeks?" Panic soon fills my words as well, another unwanted emotion filling me because of my unwanted best friend.

Throughout our school years, Itachi has been attached to my hip and unwilling to be unattached. Over the three years, I've accepted it. There's no point in fighting an uphill battle, even if the hill is an unemotional, stone-faced, Uchiha protege.

"I don't."

"You don't what?" I hiss, patting him down again.

"I don't start for another two weeks," Itachi explains, his hands catching my wrists.

"Then why are you in pain? Did you pick another fight?" I question, anger quickly replacing my worry. The last thing Itachi needs is to be picking more fights, especially with the start of his Shinobi career just fourteen days away.

"No, can't you just drop it?" Itachi huffs, his hands sliding down to cup my elbows.

"Headstrong, ego-driven shinobis are usually the firsts to die in battle," I respond, mimicking his huffiness. "Why are you hurting?"

Itachi's eyes fall closed, soft breaths being inhaled and held before exhaling, his attempt to stay patient with me. "You."

"Me?!" I screech, about ready to throw down with Mr 'Amazing'.

"Yes. Well, no, but also yes. Just drop it," his face heats up, pink dusting his sheet-white skin as his nose scrunches up. Mr. 'Amazing' is experiencing some big-boy emotions, ones he doesn't know how to deal with. "It's complicated," Itachi tries again after another round of calming breaths.

"Then explain it to me, or are you too high and mighty for me now?"

His face scrunches up at my question, but I'm not sure if it's from anger or sadness. "You are incredibly naive."

"And you're too big for your britches."

Itachi's face relaxes again at my insult. He all of a sudden seems better, some of the sweat subsiding and his skin getting just a hint of color back sometime during our discussion. "You're so pretty it hurts."

"I knew that-" I cut myself off once Itachi's answer fills my mind. The words tumble around, not being able to process correctly. "I don't... what did you say?"

"I said," Itachi starts, shifting closer to me. His eyes almost glow as he stares into mine, his hands tight but soft to keep me in place, and his nose barely touching mine. "You're so pretty it hurts."

"How... how does that..." A rare smile cracks across his face, hiding his stress lines the slightest.

"I don't know. My mother said that... well... if someone from my clan cares about... if we're away from someone... it's kind of like getting withdrawals." My chest warms from Itachi's stuttering, his words sticking in his throat as he tries to explain.

"So what you're saying is that you're an addict and I'm your drug," I tease, pulling away from my emotionally stunted friend. "What a little addict."

"That is not what I'm saying. I'm not an addict - Little Crow," Itachi races out, huffing and puffing as he walks after me.

"How do you plan to survive once you're an active-duty Shinobi? What are you going to do? Make yourself little fixes to take with you, little addict?" I continue to tease, walking down the familiar path towards my home.

"I don't know. It'll be fine. Can you stop wording it like that? What if someone eavesdrops? They're going to think I'm a drug addict." It's entertaining seeing how upset Itachi is about this. It's a nice reminder that he's not as old as he acts.

"It's quite the ego boost to know I'm your addiction, Tachi."

"Little Crow!" He hisses again, eyes jumping around to the people filling the busy streets of the village.

"Hey, maybe now that you'll be too busy for me, I'll become the addiction of a different Uchahi."

"No," he yells, his hand shooting forward to grab ahold of my shirt collar. "Absolutely not," he repeats softer this time, tugging me backward, my back colliding with his chest.

Itachi feels hot, his body heat sizzling through his shirt. "I was just kidding," I tell him, leaning my head back to look at the angry future chief. "I'm yours." Once the words are out, his body heat noticeably drops, shifting him back to the normal cold-to-the-touch temperature I'm used to.

———————————

The knocking on my window echoes through my ears, temporarily silencing my heartbeat that's been pounding there. Another knock rings out before two glowing circles appear on the other side of the glass. The familiar red I've grown accustomed to suddenly scares me.

Silently, Itachi slides my window open, climbing through it for the millionth time of our lives. The sight of him makes me panic, all the whispers about tonight booming in my head.

"Did you-"

"Ya," the answer is short, but so loud at the same time. So many emotions push through with it, most noticeably sadness.

My heart pings, but only for a second. The need to comfort Itachi washes away when my eyes catch sight of the blood smeared on his cheek. Panic quickly rises again as I look over him. More blood smears cover his Anbu uniform.

"I think you should-"

"Just let me hold you. Just... please." His request tugs at my heart again, chasing away any sane response I can come up with.

When I don't say no, Itachi slowly moves towards me, very obviously leaving his katana against the wall. His arms fall into place, wrapping around my sides and knotting themselves behind my back. I'm gently pressed into his chest, my face buried into the material of his uniform. It reeks of blood and misery, leaving a bad taste in my mouth.

"It hurts," he whispers, voice creaking and chest jumping with a silent sob.

"What hurts?" I ask gently, clinging to his sides as much as he's clinging to mine.

"You." The word hangs in the air as Itachi buries his face into my hair, soft sobs being whispered into it. "You're so pretty it hurts," he tells me for the hundredth time. The words fill me with love, the same way they have since we were eight. It's a bittersweet moment, Itachi's undying love poking through all the distraction and murder he's caused tonight.

"Why does it hurt, Tachi? You just saw me this morning."

His fingers ghost through my hair, his head shifting to my neck and gently pressing his nose against my skin. "We won't... Little Crow... you... can't be mine anymore... it'll eat you alive."

My hands gently rub his sides, my tears threatening to spill out with the truth. The truth I've been avoiding all night long. "Stop worrying yourself. I'm yours," I whisper, trying my best to keep my voice even and my tears from flowing. "I'll always be yours."

A gentle kiss is pressed to my forehead. When Itachi's lips leave my skin, he's gone completely. No sign of him anywhere to be seen.

A knock fills the room again, this time coming from the door. "Anbu Black Ops. Open up."

———————————

"Welcome home." The greeting comes once my front door is opened, startling me.

"Who's there?" I call trying to keep the fear out of my voice as I glance around the dark space.

The red glowing eyes of my dreams soon fill the darkness, bringing a drop of peace to the wave of panic. "It's just me, Little Crow. There's no need to panic." Tears prickle my eyes at the nickname. The past year of emotions wash over me; anger, sadness, fear, longing, and love, all hit me at once.

Itachi moves slowly through my home, making his way toward the front door and in turn, me. He stops in front of me, feverish heat rolling off of him and colliding with me. "I've missed you," he whispers, dipping his head down. Our noses brush, the skin of his feeling like flames of a fire.

"I missed you too," I murmur, my eyes locked on his even though I know that's the last thing I should do. "What, um... what are you doing here?"

He shifts again, lips brushing against mine as he speaks. "I wanted to remind the council I'm still around. I don't need them messing with Sasuke... or you."

"Oh."

A soft kiss is pressed to my lips, both mending the last year and breaking my heart even more. I reach out, my hands clinging to his clothing as our lips dance together.

When we pull apart, Itachi's eyes scan over me, taking in the minor and major changes from the past fifteen months. My hands slide against his chest. Sweat has soaked through his shirt, leaving him drenched.

"You're so pretty it hurt," he mutters, head falling to be pressed into my neck as his hands grip my waist. Despite the time apart, Itachi's love still seeps through his words. His longing for me is evident in his voice. "Make me stop hurting. Please."

"How do I do that, Tach? Stop being so pretty?" I can feel the smile being pressed into my skin, a silent curse falling from me because of the darkness coating the room.

"You're mine." He mumbles, lips brushing against my neck, working their way down.

"I'm yours," I echo, letting the lava of Itachi's skin burn into my hands as I slide them up to cup his face.

"Let me make you mine, please," he asks, head shifting so I can hold it better. His sharingans glow so beautifully in the pitch black, the sight quickly burning away any fear I have of them.

"Itachi."

His hands slide from my sides as he falls to his knees. They land behind my thighs, clinging to me as his head nestles into my stomach. I let my hands drop down too, burring them into his crow-colored hair. "Please?" Itachi continues to beg, pressing careful kisses into my torso.

"Be gentle."

"I will."

———————————

Itachi clings to my legs, gentle praises and pleads fall from him. "Just this once," he tries again, his lips trailing up my thighs. "Please?"

"I don't like going on your... outings with you."

"I know."

His kisses waiver as his eyes crawl up to my face. "It hurts when you're not with me."

"I know."

His hands shift, balling up the fabric of my dress. "You'll have a nice time. I promise. Please." The words are coated in desperation, just as much desperation as his hands that are going white from him clinging to me. "It'll be like a vacation."

"Normal people don't murder someone on their vacation."

A sharp breath is sucked in by Itachi, the oxygen stifling his whine. Tears start forming in his eyes as he looks up at me, the dark shading of his eye color slowly shifting to the bleeding red of his sharingans. "You're so pretty it hurts. It hurts so much when I'm away. I can't survive four weeks without you. Please my Little Crow."

"You survived a year without me. A month will be like nothing."

Tears streak down his cheeks, hands shifting to grip my hips instead of the fabric of my clothes. "Please? You're mine, aren't you? Pretty please?" The words are broken up by sobs, tugging my heart into reluctantly giving in.

"Yes, I'm yours," I mumble, sliding my hands through his hair to flatten out the loose strands.

Itachi knows what he's doing, he knows I'm still uneasy from the last time he was gone for an extended amount of time. I swore he was going to die from longing. His fever was high, higher than it had ever been, and took longer than normal to level back out.

The longing for his brother is finally starting to catch up to him. Why should I put him through more longing just for my comfort?

———————————

“I’m dying.”

“I know.”

The words stab my heart, even though I knew they were coming soon. I know Itachi has been coughing up blood. I know Sasuke’s life mission is to kill his brother. I know our time is limited, has been limited from the beginning. It doesn’t make it any easier.

The familiar trail of kisses is pressed against my skin. Starting at my knee, trialing up my thigh, crossing my hip, and curving over my stomach before trialing back down my other leg.

The familiar feeling of his fingers clinging to me promises to leave small bruises on the back of my legs.

The newest familiar feeling of blood trickling from Itachi leaves the sticky and warm sensation of fresh blood against my skin. All the familiar feelings that’ll never happen again.

“Don’t hate Sasuke,” he whispers against my skin, starting his second lap of kisses.

“I won’t,” my promise is followed by tears prickling my eyes, threatening to spill over.

“You’re so pretty it hurts. It hurts so much,” Itachi says, spilling out his version of ‘I love you’.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his warm breath coating my skin, making it tingle with need. Need to make Sasuke forgive his brother, need to make time slow down, need to fix the illness that’ll take Itachi away from me even if his brother doesn’t.

“For what?” I ask, tingling my fingers in his hair for the last time. The last time I’ll see Itachi on his knees yearning for me. The last time he’ll kiss me. The last time I’ll see his chest pumping with life.

“All of it. For making you mine, for forcing you into a life of regret.”

“I don’t regret my life with you,” my honesty makes tears fall from both of us. Mine coats my cheeks as Itachi’s mixes with the smears of blood on my thighs, making it smear even more.

“My Little Crow?” I hum a yes, not believing I can speak without sobbing. “Promise me you’ll move on. That you’ll find someone else to spend your life with.”

“I can’t do that, Tach. I’m yours. Only yours. Always have been, always will be.” My answer tears my heart apart even more, partly because it’s true and partly because I know I’ll never get to say it to him again.

“I love you,” he mumbles, another kiss being pressed into my stomach.

“I love you too.”

———————————

“Hello,” a voice rings out, making more sadness soak into my heart.

“Hello,” I answer back, keeping my eyes locked forward. They trial over Itachi’s clan symbol painted into the wall above his memorial. Once I’m done doing that for the tenth time today, I let them drop down to his death platter.

Sasuke shifts behind me, moving to stand next to me instead. “I was wondering who kept leaving flowers.”

“Is that why you set the trap?” I ask, shrugging towards the now dismembered trapped that awaited me for my visit today.

“Ya.” Sasuke sinks to the soil, sitting next to me.

I spare him a glance, a mistake on my end. Even as a boy, he looked so much like his brother. It would be almost impossible to tell the brothers apart if it wasn’t for Itachi’s stress lines. Now… now all I see is Itachi when I look at him.

Before I can stop it, tears spill over, coating my cheeks like they have for the past handful of years.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, eyes landing on me. Sasuke sucks in a breath and holds it, calming himself down the same way his brother used to. “I remember you… a lot,” he mutters, his own eyes bouncing around the grave site.

“Ya?” I tease, my voice still shaky. “I’m not surprised. Ita… I was with you as much as he was,” I continue, shrugging towards the grave. “Before everything, at least.”

“I assumed you were dead.”

“I’m sure most people do.”

Silence falls between us, a heavy sad but mutually understanding silence. Though, it doesn’t last long. “I remember what my brother would say to you, every time he saw you. Every time.”

“‘You’re so pretty it hurts’,” I quote, fresh tears coating my eyes.

“I thought he was crazy saying it. How could someone be pretty enough that it hurt to be away? I thought he was dumb.”

I chuckle at Sasuke’s confusion, a piece of my heart falling back into place.

“Well, I get what he’s saying now. There’s this girl and… I understand what he meant now.”

I look at Sasuke again, shoving down the heartache that comes with it. His face is scrunched up, his nose curling the same way Itachi’s would when he was struggling with emotional situations.

“We’re getting married… Sakura and me and… um… she asked what family I wanted to invite.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, turning his attention back to me. His sharingans glow with the familiar red I’m used to. They’re so different from his brother’s. “She didn’t mean anything by it. Sakura doesn’t always use her head before she talks.” Sasuke smiles softly to himself, causing me to smile too.

Another piece of my heart clicks into place.

“I don’t have any family… obviously,” the sad word is followed by his eyes widening, another trait the brothers both inherited from their father. “But I have you.”

“Me?”

Sasuke shrugs again, eyes jumping away from me. “It’s safe to say you’re my sister-in-law. That makes you my last family member. You are, right?”

“Ya, I’m yours,” I answer, my eyes falling on Itachi’s grave when the last two words stumble out of me. “Your family,” I correct, bittersweet emotions filling my chest.

Sasuke sighs, his body language relaxing a bit. “Apparently there’s this ‘mother-son’ dance thing. It’s the same as a ‘father-daughter’ dance I guess. I don’t… ya.”

“Ya,” I echo, the weight of Itachi’s actions hanging over us.

“I would like you to be there and… maybe dance with me,” the awkward words are followed by a cough. “I would like you to come back to the village too. So we can… so that I’m… so you aren’t… ya.”

“As you wish,” I whisper, burning Itachi’s memorial into memory. Sasuke doesn’t have to say it. I know what he means, what he wants. He wants to have and be reminded of good memories of his brother, for me - the last good piece of Itachi - to not wither away.

“Thank you.”

The soft words, the gentle conversation has started threading my heart back together.

#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #itachi uchiha #itachi oneshot #itachi uchiha oneshot #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader

62 notes · View notes

pixaho · 2 months

Text

Oya High With Girlfriends PT 1

♥ Pairing | Oya High School x girlfriends! ♥ AU? No |

♥ Warnings | All the usual, smutty situations, alcohol, etc.

M.LIST H&L LIST

MURAYAMA

♦ FIRST MEET

You met Murayama through a mutual friend, Seki. Although Seki was the more social and outgoing of you and him, you decided to just agree to meet this so called "epic friend" he made. Well, you guys hit it off pretty well. Seki started calling himself a match maker after this.

♦ DATES

You plan majority of the dates but Murayama usually has an idea or two for dates such as late night swimming or a tea date. Of course this leads to you guys getting take out later in the night and cuddling for the rest. He is a cuddly type of man.

♦ FIRST TIME

Not a lot of drinking for the first time with Murayama. You had a few glasses of wine (red or white is your decision or another type) and ate some food before you were both on his couch, partially naked. Murayama's only mistake was being a little too clumsy, he fell off the couch, taking you with him.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments between you two are not as rare as you'd think. Pre-Cobra-Showdown Murayama wasn't the easiest to argue with as he thought he was right all the time and wouldn't apologize if he wasn't right. When Cobra did beat Murayama, he changed a lot. This was shocking to say the least. He would try to see who was right and if he wasn't, apologies were given.

♦ JEALOUS

Murayama doesn't get all the much jealous because he knows who you belong to. I mean, should he be jealous of this dude who barely competes with him? Hell no. But when he does get jealous, he likes to pull you into his lap and rest his head on your shoulder or on your back while you are doing whatever.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

FURUYA

(I hate not being able to find fucking gifs of these characters smh)

♦ FIRST MEET

You met Furuya when he was still the leader of the half timers. Unlike Murayama, he was less childish and in fact thought of all the wrong he could have done. Which included beating your sibling up. He decided it would have been better to apologize when he realized he beat up the wrong person.

♦ DATES

Furuya, my baby boy, does he NOT know how to host a date. Despite Furuya's attempts, the dates always end with other schools trying to fight him, so you guys decided to just do date nights at home. It isn't his fault, rather what he's done. So date nights at home are cooking or ordering food and then watching your favorite show and/or movie.

♦ FIRST TIME

Your first time with Furuya was in your work place in the bathroom. Not the most romantic area, I know. The mistake that happened actually wasn't his but it was yours. You forgot to lock the bathroom door and someone almost walked in. He was quick to close it and lock it.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments between you two are common, whether its petty little arguments to see who knows the other better or actual ones because of the pain Furuya goes through whilst fighting in Oya High. This is typically you patching him up and him praising you.

♦ JEALOUS

Depends on the situation, if the person is flirting and making you uncomfortable, he glares daggers into them. If they're getting a little too close and you don't notice, he'll say something to make them leave. But if they're getting too close and touchy and you do notice it, especially if you say something to get them away from you, he'll become violent towards that person. That is if they don't respect your wishes.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

SEKI

♦ FIRST MEET

The aftermath of the Junkyard battle. Murayama decided to take a bunch of his friends who were injured to the place where you worked (you are a studying nurse, let's add that) and introduced Seki to you. Although their injuries worried you, you actually got along with Seki.

♦ DATES

Best believe it that all your dates are inside with Seki's cooking. You thought that you'd have to do all the cooking but to your surprise, Seki learnt how to cook from a very young age due to his mom. A woman that you will probably meet at some point.

♦ FIRST TIME

In the back of that big truck.. Yeah, Seki forgot to lock the place down before you guys got busy and a first year of Oya High happened to be there. You were the talk of the school for a few months.

♦ ARGUING

Arguments are rare. Seki tries his hardest to make sure you are happy in the relationship as he doesn't want you to be upset and you are the greatest thing to happen to him. If you do argue, he's quick to make you laugh instead of being angry with him.

♦ JEALOUS

Definitely jealous of everyone who even gives you a look. Only reason people won't hit on you is because you're friends with Furuya and Murayama. Who would be dumb enough to flirt with the girlfriend of Seki?

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

FUJI☺

♦ FIRST MEET

You guys grew up together in the Hope Hill Housing Complex. Your mothers were friends who bonded over grieving for their late husbands. You guys shared that same bond except that as you grew older, your bond turned more romantic.

♦ DATES

Fujio has a slight idea about dates and where to take you but majority of them are planned by you. He knows how to cook, just barely does it so it's rare on your date nights that he does do it. At this point, it becomes a common thing for the date nights.

♦ FIRST TIME

Fujio and you had to be quiet because his mother was sleeping in the room next to you both. However, Fujio doesn't 100% understand how to be quiet. He woke his mother up by accident, but he locked the door. The woman knew what was happening.

♦ ARGUING

You only ever truly argue with Fujio when he's being a dumbass and not thinking clearly. He is a soft person so he usually apologizes first. But he is also loyal.

♦ JEALOUS

Jealous making the other jealous type of person. Fujio will get jealous, be cocky, and then make the other person jealous as hell because that is how he works. Cocky little fucker.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

TSUKASA

♦ FIRST MEET

You'd meet Tsukasa by complete accident, being the younger sibling of another person at Oya High. The only actual reason you had gone there was to give your older brother something he had left at home. So imagine your surprise when you find him talking to a cute blonde who you got introduced to shortly after being reprimanded.

♦ DATES

No dates. He can't plan them, he can't think of ideas for them, so he leaves them to you. This leads you to not knowing what to plan so.. the actual dates are you guys weirdly snuggling at home.

♦ FIRST TIME

One word to describe it, awkward. Tsukasa was nervous as hell. He didn't know where to put his hands, where to rub, where to kiss, or where to put stuff. He's a nervous little baby.

♦ ARGUING

Tsukasa isn't the easiest person to talk to. He's a bit closed off. This leads to arguments about him not telling you where he was going (usually off to fight a random group) or lying about being injured. He wasn't really taken care of as a child and instead only had his friends (Fujio and the others) to take care of him. So to say it's weird when you care about him.

♦ JEALOUS

Silent-Pride jealous person. He gets jealous when he thinks that the other person could take better care of you but then he remembers that you chose him over a line of a bunch of other guys.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

T☺D☺R☺KI

♦ FIRST MEET

Surprise surprise, MET HIM WHILE HE WAS AT EBARA. You decided that enough was enough when your brother showed up at home with a busted lip for the 8th time that year. This was your decision to head to Ebara and confront the douche who kept doing this. You met him, and he really was an asshole. Yosuke introduced himself as you berated him for his constant bullying. He fell in love.

(Constant bullying line made me think of Adventure Time where Jake goes "Your constant harassment of the female gender makes me siiiiick.")

♦ DATES

BOOK STORE DATES! He would totally take you out to get lunch somewhere and then straight to a bookstore or a library. Nerdy boys for the nerdy hoes!

♦ FIRST TIME

Ehehehe, library. Your first time with Todoroki was late at night when you both were studying. You were studying for a test, and he was studying your body and face. One thing led to another and you guys did it in the library. One issue, he didn't bring protection.

♦ ARGUING

Common to say the least. He tries to make them not as common but his hot headed attitude makes it hard not only for him but for you as well. When you do argue, it's mainly about how he spends his time at Oya, but it can also be about him lying about injuries. He doesn't apologize right away, instead he takes a moment away from you to clear his head and realize his rights and wrongs.

♦ JEALOUS

This boy will get jealous but he won't show it. His way of showing it to you is sitting behind you and rubbing circles into your skin.

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

SHIBAMAN

(I swwwear! finding GIFS for these characters is never easy because why would it be?)

♦ FIRST MEET

Tsuji introduced you both to each other, by accident. He wanted to keep you safe from Oya High and away from his friends for that reason. However, he just so happened to run into his dear friend Shibaman. To say it was awkward would be an understatement.

♦ DATES

Cafe or home cooking dates. He doesn't entirely know how to cook so he chooses to do home cooking with you as a way to learn. Cafe's are for if you're both tired and don't feel like finding something else to do.

♦ FIRST TIME

Womp womp, your first time with Shibaman was rough. You guys had gotten emotional after a fight and his way of making it up to you was being all cuddly and apologizing even if it wasn't his fault. Then you guys got hot and heavy. Once again, like Yosuke, he forgot protection. (always use protection unless you PLAN on being pregnant)

♦ ARGUING

You guys argue a lot. Usually it's petty little arguments where you both try to hurt each other before laughing. But typically it's about injuries. He isn't the quick to apologize type. If he's right, he'll stay on his point but love you nonetheless. If he's wrong, well.. this petty little fucker will try and find how he is right before actually apologizing.

♦ JEALOUS

Silent jealous. His way of showing it is by glaring daggers into the person until they get uncomfortable and leave. If that doesn't work, he walks over and hands you a drink before kissing you. (Kiss me on my hot mouth)

♦ HOW YOU SLEEP TOGETHER

♦ HOW YOU KISS

Next few in Part 2: Tsuji, Yasushi and Nakagoshi!

♥ Mutuals; @talusional @dillpick <3

56 notes · View notes