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mostlysignssomeportents · 22 hours

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The disenshittified internet starts with loyal "user agents"

I'm in TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (TOMORROW, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).

There's one overwhelmingly common mistake that people make about enshittification: assuming that the contagion is the result of the Great Forces of History, or that it is the inevitable end-point of any kind of for-profit online world.

In other words, they class enshittification as an ideological phenomenon, rather than as a material phenomenon. Corporate leaders have always felt the impulse to enshittify their offerings, shifting value from end users, business customers and their own workers to their shareholders. The decades of largely enshittification-free online services were not the product of corporate leaders with better ideas or purer hearts. Those years were the result of constraints on the mediocre sociopaths who would trade our wellbeing and happiness for their own, constraints that forced them to act better than they do today, even if the were not any better:

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

Corporate leaders' moments of good leadership didn't come from morals, they came from fear. Fear that a competitor would take away a disgruntled customer or worker. Fear that a regulator would punish the company so severely that all gains from cheating would be wiped out. Fear that a rival technology – alternative clients, tracker blockers, third-party mods and plugins – would emerge that permanently severed the company's relationship with their customers. Fears that key workers in their impossible-to-replace workforce would leave for a job somewhere else rather than participate in the enshittification of the services they worked so hard to build:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/22/kargo-kult-kaptialism/#dont-buy-it

When those constraints melted away – thanks to decades of official tolerance for monopolies, which led to regulatory capture and victory over the tech workforce – the same mediocre sociopaths found themselves able to pursue their most enshittificatory impulses without fear.

The effects of this are all around us. In This Is Your Phone On Feminism, the great Maria Farrell describes how audiences at her lectures profess both love for their smartphones and mistrust for them. Farrell says, "We love our phones, but we do not trust them. And love without trust is the definition of an abusive relationship":

https://conversationalist.org/2019/09/13/feminism-explains-our-toxic-relationships-with-our-smartphones/

I (re)discovered this Farrell quote in a paper by Robin Berjon, who recently co-authored a magnificent paper with Farrell entitled "We Need to Rewild the Internet":

https://www.noemamag.com/we-need-to-rewild-the-internet/

The new Berjon paper is narrower in scope, but still packed with material examples of the way the internet goes wrong and how it can be put right. It's called "The Fiduciary Duties of User Agents":

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3827421

In "Fiduciary Duties," Berjon focuses on the technical term "user agent," which is how web browsers are described in formal standards documents. This notion of a "user agent" is a holdover from a more civilized age, when technologists tried to figure out how to build a new digital space where technology served users.

A web browser that's a "user agent" is a comforting thought. An agent's job is to serve you and your interests. When you tell it to fetch a web-page, your agent should figure out how to get that page, make sense of the code that's embedded in, and render the page in a way that represents its best guess of how you'd like the page seen.

For example, the user agent might judge that you'd like it to block ads. More than half of all web users have installed ad-blockers, constituting the largest consumer boycott in human history:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

Your user agent might judge that the colors on the page are outside your visual range. Maybe you're colorblind, in which case, the user agent could shift the gamut of the colors away from the colors chosen by the page's creator and into a set that suits you better:

https://dankaminsky.com/dankam/

Or maybe you (like me) have a low-vision disability that makes low-contrast type difficult to impossible to read, and maybe the page's creator is a thoughtless dolt who's chosen light grey-on-white type, or maybe they've fallen prey to the absurd urban legend that not-quite-black type is somehow more legible than actual black type:

https://uxplanet.org/basicdesign-never-use-pure-black-in-typography-36138a3327a6

The user agent is loyal to you. Even when you want something the page's creator didn't consider – even when you want something the page's creator violently objects to – your user agent acts on your behalf and delivers your desires, as best as it can.

Now – as Berjon points out – you might not know exactly what you want. Like, you know that you want the privacy guarantees of TLS (the difference between "http" and "https") but not really understand the internal cryptographic mysteries involved. Your user agent might detect evidence of shenanigans indicating that your session isn't secure, and choose not to show you the web-page you requested.

This is only superficially paradoxical. Yes, you asked your browser for a web-page. Yes, the browser defied your request and declined to show you that page. But you also asked your browser to protect you from security defects, and your browser made a judgment call and decided that security trumped delivery of the page. No paradox needed.

But of course, the person who designed your user agent/browser can't anticipate all the ways this contradiction might arise. Like, maybe you're trying to access your own website, and you know that the security problem the browser has detected is the result of your own forgetful failure to renew your site's cryptographic certificate. At that point, you can tell your browser, "Thanks for having my back, pal, but actually this time it's fine. Stand down and show me that webpage."

That's your user agent serving you, too.

User agents can be well-designed or they can be poorly made. The fact that a user agent is designed to act in accord with your desires doesn't mean that it always will. A software agent, like a human agent, is not infallible.

However – and this is the key – if a user agent thwarts your desire due to a fault, that is fundamentally different from a user agent that thwarts your desires because it is designed to serve the interests of someone else, even when that is detrimental to your own interests.

A "faithless" user agent is utterly different from a "clumsy" user agent, and faithless user agents have become the norm. Indeed, as crude early internet clients progressed in sophistication, they grew increasingly treacherous. Most non-browser tools are designed for treachery.

A smart speaker or voice assistant routes all your requests through its manufacturer's servers and uses this to build a nonconsensual surveillance dossier on you. Smart speakers and voice assistants even secretly record your speech and route it to the manufacturer's subcontractors, whether or not you're explicitly interacting with them:

https://www.sciencealert.com/creepy-new-amazon-patent-would-mean-alexa-records-everything-you-say-from-now-on

By design, apps and in-app browsers seek to thwart your preferences regarding surveillance and tracking. An app will even try to figure out if you're using a VPN to obscure your location from its maker, and snitch you out with its guess about your true location.

Mobile phones assign persistent tracking IDs to their owners and transmit them without permission (to its credit, Apple recently switch to an opt-in system for transmitting these IDs) (but to its detriment, Apple offers no opt-out from its own tracking, and actively lies about the very existence of this tracking):

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

An Android device running Chrome and sitting inert, with no user interaction, transmits location data to Google every five minutes. This is the "resting heartbeat" of surveillance for an Android device. Ask that device to do any work for you and its pulse quickens, until it is emitting a nearly continuous stream of information about your activities to Google:

https://digitalcontentnext.org/blog/2018/08/21/google-data-collection-research/

These faithless user agents both reflect and enable enshittification. The locked-down nature of the hardware and operating systems for Android and Ios devices means that manufacturers – and their business partners – have an arsenal of legal weapons they can use to block anyone who gives you a tool to modify the device's behavior. These weapons are generically referred to as "IP rights" which are, broadly speaking, the right to control the conduct of a company's critics, customers and competitors:

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

A canny tech company can design their products so that any modification that puts the user's interests above its shareholders is illegal, a violation of its copyright, patent, trademark, trade secrets, contracts, terms of service, nondisclosure, noncompete, most favored nation, or anticircumvention rights. Wrap your product in the right mix of IP, and its faithless betrayals acquire the force of law.

This is – in Jay Freeman's memorable phrase – "felony contempt of business model." While more than half of all web users have installed an ad-blocker, thus overriding the manufacturer's defaults to make their browser a more loyal agent, no app users have modified their apps with ad-blockers.

The first step of making such a blocker, reverse-engineering the app, creates criminal liability under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, with a maximum penalty of five years in prison and a $500,000 fine. An app is just a web-page skinned in sufficient IP to make it a felony to add an ad-blocker to it (no wonder every company wants to coerce you into using its app, rather than its website).

If you know that increasing the invasiveness of the ads on your web-page could trigger mass installations of ad-blockers by your users, it becomes irrational and self-defeating to ramp up your ads' invasiveness. The possibility of interoperability acts as a constraint on tech bosses' impulse to enshittify their products.

The shift to platforms dominated by treacherous user agents – apps, mobile ecosystems, walled gardens – weakens or removes that constraint. As your ability to discipline your agent so that it serves you wanes, the temptation to turn your user agent against you grows, and enshittification follows.

This has been tacitly understood by technologists since the web's earliest days and has been reaffirmed even as enshittification increased. Berjon quotes extensively from "The Internet Is For End-Users," AKA Internet Architecture Board RFC 8890:

Defining the user agent role in standards also creates a virtuous cycle; it allows multiple implementations, allowing end users to switch between them with relatively low costs (…). This creates an incentive for implementers to consider the users' needs carefully, which are often reflected into the defining standards. The resulting ecosystem has many remaining problems, but a distinguished user agent role provides an opportunity to improve it.

And the W3C's Technical Architecture Group echoes these sentiments in "Web Platform Design Principles," which articulates a "Priority of Constituencies" that is supposed to be central to the W3C's mission:

User needs come before the needs of web page authors, which come before the needs of user agent implementors, which come before the needs of specification writers, which come before theoretical purity.

https://w3ctag.github.io/design-principles/

But the W3C's commitment to faithful agents is contingent on its own members' commitment to these principles. In 2017, the W3C finalized "EME," a standard for blocking mods that interact with streaming videos. Nominally aimed at preventing copyright infringement, EME also prevents users from choosing to add accessibility add-ons that beyond the ones the streaming service permits. These services may support closed captioning and additional narration of visual elements, but they block tools that adapt video for color-blind users or prevent strobe effects that trigger seizures in users with photosensitive epilepsy.

The fight over EME was the most contentious struggle in the W3C's history, in which the organization's leadership had to decide whether to honor the "priority of constituencies" and make a standard that allowed users to override manufacturers, or whether to facilitate the creation of faithless agents specifically designed to thwart users' desires on behalf of manufacturers:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/09/open-letter-w3c-director-ceo-team-and-membership

This fight was settled in favor of a handful of extremely large and powerful companies, over the objections of a broad collection of smaller firms, nonprofits representing users, academics and other parties agitating for a web built on faithful agents. This coincided with the W3C's operating budget becoming entirely dependent on the very large sums its largest corporate members paid.

W3C membership is on a sliding scale, based on a member's size. Nominally, the W3C is a one-member, one-vote organization, but when a highly concentrated collection of very high-value members flex their muscles, W3C leadership seemingly perceived an existential risk to the organization, and opted to sacrifice the faithfulness of user agents in service to the anti-user priorities of its largest members.

For W3C's largest corporate members, the fight was absolutely worth it. The W3C's EME standard transformed the web, making it impossible to ship a fully featured web-browser without securing permission – and a paid license – from one of the cartel of companies that dominate the internet. In effect, Big Tech used the W3C to secure the right to decide who would compete with them in future, and how:

https://blog.samuelmaddock.com/posts/the-end-of-indie-web-browsers/

Enshittification arises when the everyday mediocre sociopaths who run tech companies are freed from the constraints that act against them. When the web – and its browsers – were a big, contented, diverse, competitive space, it was harder for tech companies to collude to capture standards bodies like the W3C to secure even more dominance. As the web turned into Tom Eastman's "five giant websites filled with screenshots of text from the other four," that kind of collusion became much easier:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/18/cursed-are-the-sausagemakers/#how-the-parties-get-to-yes

In arguing for faithful agents, Berjon associates himself with the group of scholars, regulators and activists who call for user agents to serve as "information fiduciaries." Mostly, information fiduciaries come up in the context of user privacy, with the idea that entities that hold a user's data would have the obligation to put the user's interests ahead of their own. Think of a lawyer's fiduciary duty in respect of their clients, to give advice that reflects the client's best interests, even when that conflicts with the lawyer's own self-interest. For example, a lawyer who believes that settling a case is the best course of action for a client is required to tell them so, even if keeping the case going would generate more billings for the lawyer and their firm.

For a user agent to be faithful, it must be your fiduciary. It must put your interests ahead of the interests of the entity that made it or operates it. Browsers, email clients, and other internet software that served as a fiduciary would do things like automatically blocking tracking (which most email clients don't do, especially webmail clients made by companies like Google, who also sell advertising and tracking).

Berjon contemplates a legally mandated fiduciary duty, citing Lindsey Barrett's "Confiding in Con Men":

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3354129

He describes a fiduciary duty as a remedy for the enforcement failures of EU's GDPR, a solidly written, and dismally enforced, privacy law. A legally backstopped duty for agents to be fiduciaries would also help us distinguish good and bad forms of "innovation" – innovation in ways of thwarting a user's will are always bad.

Now, the tech giants insist that they are already fiduciaries, and that when they thwart a user's request, that's more like blocking access to a page where the encryption has been compromised than like HAL9000's "I can't let you do that, Dave." For example, when Louis Barclay created "Unfollow Everything," he (and his enthusiastic users) found that automating the process of unfollowing every account on Facebook made their use of the service significantly better:

https://slate.com/technology/2021/10/facebook-unfollow-everything-cease-desist.html

When Facebook shut the service down with blood-curdling legal threats, they insisted that they were simply protecting users from themselves. Sure, this browser automation tool – which just automatically clicked links on Facebook's own settings pages – seemed to do what the users wanted. But what if the user interface changed? What if so many users added this feature to Facebook without Facebook's permission that they overwhelmed Facebook's (presumably tiny and fragile) servers and crashed the system?

These arguments have lately resurfaced with Ethan Zuckerman and Knight First Amendment Institute's lawsuit to clarify that "Unfollow Everything 2.0" is legal and doesn't violate any of those "felony contempt of business model" laws:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/02/kaiju-v-kaiju/

Sure, Zuckerman seems like a good guy, but what if he makes a mistake and his automation tool does something you don't want? You, the Facebook user, are also a nice guy, but let's face it, you're also a naive dolt and you can't be trusted to make decisions for yourself. Those decisions can only be made by Facebook, whom we can rely upon to exercise its authority wisely.

Other versions of this argument surfaced in the debate over the EU's decision to mandate interoperability for end-to-end encrypted (E2EE) messaging through the Digital Markets Act (DMA), which would let you switch from, say, Whatsapp to Signal and still send messages to your Whatsapp contacts.

There are some good arguments that this could go horribly awry. If it is rushed, or internally sabotaged by the EU's state security services who loathe the privacy that comes from encrypted messaging, it could expose billions of people to serious risks.

But that's not the only argument that DMA opponents made: they also argued that even if interoperable messaging worked perfectly and had no security breaches, it would still be bad for users, because this would make it impossible for tech giants like Meta, Google and Apple to spy on message traffic (if not its content) and identify likely coordinated harassment campaigns. This is literally the identical argument the NSA made in support of its "metadata" mass-surveillance program: "Reading your messages might violate your privacy, but watching your messages doesn't."

This is obvious nonsense, so its proponents need an equally obviously intellectually dishonest way to defend it. When called on the absurdity of "protecting" users by spying on them against their will, they simply shake their heads and say, "You just can't understand the burdens of running a service with hundreds of millions or billions of users, and if I even tried to explain these issues to you, I would divulge secrets that I'm legally and ethically bound to keep. And even if I could tell you, you wouldn't understand, because anyone who doesn't work for a Big Tech company is a naive dolt who can't be trusted to understand how the world works (much like our users)."

Not coincidentally, this is also literally the same argument the NSA makes in support of mass surveillance, and there's a very useful name for it: scalesplaining.

Now, it's totally true that every one of us is capable of lapses in judgment that put us, and the people connected to us, at risk (my own parents gave their genome to the pseudoscience genetic surveillance company 23andme, which means they have my genome, too). A true information fiduciary shouldn't automatically deliver everything the user asks for. When the agent perceives that the user is about to put themselves in harm's way, it should throw up a roadblock and explain the risks to the user.

But the system should also let the user override it.

This is a contentious statement in information security circles. Users can be "socially engineered" (tricked), and even the most sophisticated users are vulnerable to this:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

The only way to be certain a user won't be tricked into taking a course of action is to forbid that course of action under any circumstances. If there is any means by which a user can flip the "are you very sure?" circuit-breaker back on, then the user can be tricked into using that means.

This is absolutely true. As you read these words, all over the world, vulnerable people are being tricked into speaking the very specific set of directives that cause a suspicious bank-teller to authorize a transfer or cash withdrawal that will result in their life's savings being stolen by a scammer:

https://www.thecut.com/article/amazon-scam-call-ftc-arrest-warrants.html

We keep making it harder for bank customers to make large transfers, but so long as it is possible to make such a transfer, the scammers have the means, motive and opportunity to discover how the process works, and they will go on to trick their victims into invoking that process.

Beyond a certain point, making it harder for bank depositors to harm themselves creates a world in which people who aren't being scammed find it nearly impossible to draw out a lot of cash for an emergency and where scam artists know exactly how to manage the trick. After all, non-scammers only rarely experience emergencies and thus have no opportunity to become practiced in navigating all the anti-fraud checks, while the fraudster gets to run through them several times per day, until they know them even better than the bank staff do.

This is broadly true of any system intended to control users at scale – beyond a certain point, additional security measures are trivially surmounted hurdles for dedicated bad actors and as nearly insurmountable hurdles for their victims:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/como-is-infosec/

At this point, we've had a couple of decades' worth of experience with technological "walled gardens" in which corporate executives get to override their users' decisions about how the system should work, even when that means reaching into the users' own computer and compelling it to thwart the user's desire. The record is inarguable: while companies often use those walls to lock bad guys out of the system, they also use the walls to lock their users in, so that they'll be easy pickings for the tech company that owns the system:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/05/battery-vampire/#drained

This is neatly predicted by enshittification's theory of constraints: when a company can override your choices, it will be irresistibly tempted to do so for its own benefit, and to your detriment.

What's more, the mere possibility that you can override the way the system works acts as a disciplining force on corporate executives, forcing them to reckon with your priorities even when these are counter to their shareholders' interests. If Facebook is genuinely worried that an "Unfollow Everything" script will break its servers, it can solve that by giving users an unfollow everything button of its own design. But so long as Facebook can sue anyone who makes an "Unfollow Everything" tool, they have no reason to give their users such a button, because it would give them more control over their Facebook experience, including the controls needed to use Facebook less.

It's been more than 20 years since Seth Schoen and I got a demo of Microsoft's first "trusted computing" system, with its "remote attestations," which would let remote servers demand and receive accurate information about what kind of computer you were using and what software was running on it.

This could be beneficial to the user – you could send a "remote attestation" to a third party you trusted and ask, "Hey, do you think my computer is infected with malicious software?" Since the trusted computing system produced its report on your computer using a sealed, separate processor that the user couldn't directly interact with, any malicious code you were infected with would not be able to forge this attestation.

But this remote attestation feature could also be used to allow Microsoft to block you from opening a Word document with Libreoffice, Apple Pages, or Google Docs, or it could be used to allow a website to refuse to send you pages if you were running an ad-blocker. In other words, it could transform your information fiduciary into a faithless agent.

Seth proposed an answer to this: "owner override," a hardware switch that would allow you to force your computer to lie on your behalf, when that was beneficial to you, for example, by insisting that you were using Microsoft Word to open a document when you were really using Apple Pages:

https://web.archive.org/web/20021004125515/http://vitanuova.loyalty.org/2002-07-05.html

Seth wasn't naive. He knew that such a system could be exploited by scammers and used to harm users. But Seth calculated – correctly! – that the risks of having a key to let yourself out of the walled garden were less than being stuck in a walled garden where some corporate executive got to decide whether and when you could leave.

Tech executives never stopped questing after a way to turn your user agent from a fiduciary into a traitor. Last year, Google toyed with the idea of adding remote attestation to web browsers, which would let services refuse to interact with you if they thought you were using an ad blocker:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

The reasoning for this was incredible: by adding remote attestation to browsers, they'd be creating "feature parity" with apps – that is, they'd be making it as practical for your browser to betray you as it is for your apps to do so (note that this is the same justification that the W3C gave for creating EME, the treacherous user agent in your browser – "streaming services won't allow you to access movies with your browser unless your browser is as enshittifiable and authoritarian as an app").

Technologists who work for giant tech companies can come up with endless scalesplaining explanations for why their bosses, and not you, should decide how your computer works. They're wrong. Your computer should do what you tell it to do:

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

These people can kid themselves that they're only taking away your power and handing it to their boss because they have your best interests at heart. As Upton Sinclair told us, it's impossible to get someone to understand something when their paycheck depends on them not understanding it.

The only way to get a tech boss to consistently treat you well is to ensure that if they stop, you can quit. Anything less is a one-way ticket to enshittification.

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://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

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

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

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ilypaigebuckets · 3 days

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kate martin x competitive swimmer reader por favorrrrrrr

Someone Who Isn’t Me - K.M.

u cannot tell me i didn’t eat with the title right there it’s literally swim i feel like a genius. literally wrote half of this and went to finish it and i guess i forgot to save it bc it was all gone :(

pairing: reader x kate martin

plot: kate has a game the same day as your swim meet and can’t make it to watch you, which makes her feel like you need someone else who can make more time for you.

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

you had woken up at 7 am sharp and had starting to get ready for your swim meet that afternoon. you were doing the 100 free and were pretty nervous for it. you tried to calm your nerves by playing some music and taking your time to get ready. you heard a ping on your phone and ignored it, trying to stay in the zone. you heard a second ping a while later and decided to see who was texting you. you looked down and smiled as you recognized the notification to be your girlfriend.

k ❤️

sent an image.

I’m so sad lovely 😔😭

you quickly typed in your password to see what the image was. turns out, it was an email from her coach to her team saying that her game’s start time would be postponed for 2 hours later.

y/n

awe :( i’ll miss you teddy bear

good luck at your game i love you!

you were going to miss kate and kate was going to miss you. it was hard when the two of you couldn’t make it to each others games and events. you knew it would be especially hard on kate, she had a tendency to overthink and think the worst of herself when she couldn’t show up for you.

on the court, kate was a mess. “kate!” her coach called to her, “whatever’s going on with you, i need it to stop. you need to focus on what’s on the court, you’re our glue.” kate nodded, absentmindedly and ran back to the court. in the end, iowa ended up losing 56-67. kate walked back to the locker room defeated. ‘great’ she thought ‘another reason this is the shittiest day ever.’

she got back to her apartment and saw you’d texted her again.

My love 💕

hi kate kat!! how was your game? do you wanna come over :)

kate smiled faintly at your message. you were so positive, even when plans didn’t turn out the way you two had expected.

Kate

i love you so much i’ll be over in 10 🤗🥰😘❤️

kate grabbed her backpack and packed some clothes and her toothbrush into it, she figured she’d spend the night at your place. you two had a tendency to have sleepovers a few times a week and she didn’t want to be alone tonight after this tough loss.

about 8 minutes later, you heard a knock at your door. you opened it and there you saw her. your beautiful girl standing there with a pout on her face. you grabbed her bag from her and stood on your toes so you could reach up to kiss her nose. you grabbed her hand and led her over to the couch.

“i missed you today baby!” you said to her as you sat down on the couch next to you. she groaned and pulled you onto her lap, wanting to be closer to you after a day apart.

“you aren’t close enough!!” kate whined as she hugged your body close to hers. “i was having such a hard day already and not seeing you just ruined it. i was starting to think that.. i don’t know maybe you need someone who can be there, who can show up for you. i feel terrible. god.” she buried her head into the crevice of your neck and inhaled your scent. “god y/n i was thinking maybe you need someone who isn’t me. but now i’m here and i can’t imagine not having you. we lost and i should be so upset about it, and i was, but it’s like now i’m with you and none of it matters anymore.”

you simply giggled and kissed kate soundly on her pink lips, tasting her chapstick as you did so. kate started to perk up and smiled too. her spirit seemed to brighten the more time she spent with you. she put her hands on your shoulders, shaking you, “how do you make me so happy, y/n? hm? how do you do that? tell me your secrets!”

in that moment you wanted to cry. you loved how you and kate could overcome seemingly anything, not letting a bad day come between you guys. “i hate seeing you upset, kate. you’re my person. i wish i could be around you all the time.”

#iowa wbb #wlw post #kate martin x reader #kate martin #wbb x reader #iowa hawkeyes

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eyesxxyou · 2 days

Text

❝ sunshine pt.3 ❞ (hobie brown x male!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. hobie x male!reader. reader pretends to hate dislike hobie. gay longing. denial of feelings. switch!hobie. switch!reader. missionary. save a horse ride a cowboy. using cum as lube. hobie being a tease. after your time in the bathroom, it's hard to deny your feelings for hobie. it's even harder to deny when hobie shows up on your doorstep.

Hobie Brown liked you.

He liked you from the very moment he met you. You were responsible, respectable, with enough sense in that brain of yours to last the both of you. You were quiet yet not shy and willing to speak your mind when need be. You were mean but in a nice way, in a way that really showed you cared more than you ever wanted to let on. He might have liked that most about you. Or it would be your lips that he liked the most. After all, he’s finally gotten a taste of them twice now.

You and Hobie met at a party through Riri. She had introduced you two and you had given him a once over and, looking rather unimpressed, dismissed him in the most polite way you possibly could. Hobie thought you to be prissy and stuck up and was ready to dismiss you as well as just that until he saw you glancing at him throughout the night, always within view of him. He knew you liked him right away, simply playing, or convincing yourself, that you didn’t. He thought it was cute.

You were avoiding him again. More so than before. According to your other shared friends, you weren’t even leaving your apartment. You didn’t want to risk any chance of running into Hobie on the street and being forced to confront your undeniable feelings right then and there.

But you had to talk about what happened eventually…right? You would have to talk to him eventually.

Would flowers be appropriate? Would they make you more upset? Imply something that was never there in the first place? Or would they soothe the undoubted rage you would feel upon seeing Hobie at your door when all you wanted was to be left alone with your thoughts. You didn't need him coming in and stirring shit up but Hobie wouldn't be himself if he didn't stir the pot just a little.

Hobie decided no flowers, not yet, you weren't ready for something like that. It would send you into a spiral, turn you off to any idea of simply talking to him.

He stood at your door for approximately 10 minutes, simply debating if disturbing you would be worth it. Hobie had the chance to make things a whole lot worse but also the chance to remedy your pain and confusion. He would be remiss if he didn’t at least try to make things better between the two of you. So he knocked, nervous for one of the few times in his life.

It was clear you didn't expect him to be at your doorstep when you opened the door. Your bored gaze widened into something of surprise, or maybe that’s fear he was seeing. You didn't hesitate to try and close the door on him but Hobie stuck his boot between the door and the frame to stop you. “Wai’, wai’, sunshine please, hol’ on.” He pleaded softly, sticking his hand through the crack to pry the door open but you had a surprising amount of strength.

“Could you stop fucking calling me that? It’s stupid and annoying.” Your words hold a bitter taste to them. Your lips are pressed into a firm scowl as you look at him. Your hands balled into fist pinned to your sides. “Why are you here, Hobie? I’m not feeling well” You let out a feeble cough to punctuate your point. It’s unconvincing even to you.

Hobie leaned against your doorframe and looked at you with those heavy-set eyes you found yourself thinking about far too often. “Ya haven’ been answerin’ ma calls.” His voice was soft compared to yours. It makes you feel a bit ridiculous for being so angry. But your anger was righteous; you had every justifiable reason to be upset.

“When do I ever answer your calls?”

“Touché.” Hobie tried to play nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders dismissively, shifting his gaze to the side. But — God — if only you knew how anxious he was to speak to you. His mouth ran dry and his palms, usually cool, where now hot and clammy. “But we still need t’ chat. Don' wan’cha goin’ ‘round thinkin’ I was just tryna get off or somethin’.”

You’re colder than usual to him, scoffing at his every word. Hobie was starting to think you might actually hate him. But if he’s right, and he nearly always is, you like him far more than you want to let on, you always have. This was all denial, a front, a way to protect your fragile world view and delicate self-image.

You turn yourself away from him, eyes shifting, head low. You don’t want to talk. Is it so hard to just be left alone?

Hobie could see you were shutting down. “Look– I’m no’ ‘ere to tell ya who ya are and who ya aren'. ‘M jus’ here fo’ support.” He was gentle, his lips twitched into a half-hearted smile, trying to be friendly and cordial. As much as someone like him can be.

Maybe it’s then that you realized the fact that he was just trying to offer you some kindness at a point in your life where you might have needed it most. You were so unsure of yourself, who you were, what you did. You always knew Hobie wasn’t a bad person, but you never knew he could be so tender.

You pursed your lips and sighed with defeat before opening the door a little more to let him through. His boots made your floorboards creak under the weight of them as he walked into your flat, his hand shoved into the pockets of his spiked and studded leather jacket. He was too comfortable, too cool for your liking. Or maybe you were too tense for his.

You closed the door behind him and crossed your arms over your chest as if to protect yourself. Your body language screamed defensive, closed, unwilling to listen. Your eyes shifted from side to side but never linger on Hobie for long. Back against the door, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, heel to toe. “I don’t know what you think is going on between us, what you think we share, but I’m not interested. It shouldn’t have happened.” You spat out, more at yourself than at him. “It was a mistake.”

Hobie grunted. “Way t’make a guy feel good ‘bout ‘imself.” He wasn’t hurt about it. You were going through a lot right now. And your words said more than you ever cared to say.

“I’m not gay, Hobie.” You say a little forcefully, watching with a sort of meticulousness as Hobie wandered his way closer to you. You watched him shrug as if it didn’t matter. “So wha’? I wouldn’ call myself gay either, I jus’ like who I like.” He slid his hands from his pockets, his approach still slow and steady. You didn’t dare look away from him or make a motion in any other direction.

“‘M no askin’ you t’be gay, sunshine.”

You swallowed as Hobie reached out and placed his large hand on your hip and closed the space between your bodies. This was the very reason why you didn’t want to be around him, because you knew that if he made a motion for you, you wouldn’t have the strength to pull away.

You wanted him. You wanted him carnally, wanted him the way one being always longs for another. You wanted his hands, his lips, his cock. You wanted all of him and more. Just one more time, one more time and you’d expel him from your mind and you’d be done with it all together.

You looked at him, desperation filling your glossy eyes like tears. “Then what do you want from me, Hobie? I don’t understand.” You don’t understand yourself anymore. You don’t know yourself. All you know is that you're wildly and completely, head over heels, desperately fiending to have him again and you didn't know what that meant about yourself.

Hobie stroked your hip tenderly with his thumb. “I jus’ wan’cha t’like me back. Is tha’ so hard?”

You turned your head away, lips pursed to stop them from trembling. You were utterly terrified. Terrified because you do like him back. You like him more than you ever wanted to let on. Everything you despise about him, his saunter, his carelessness, his full laughter, his smile, is truly everything you adored about him and he had seen right through you the entire time.

“I do like you.” It feels so good to get off your chest, to finally say it out loud. You look at Hobie, eyes hard yet glassy. Your lips are pressed firmly.

Hobie didn't understand. “Then wha’s the problem?” If he liked you and you liked him, why were you so against being with him? It wasn't like you’d lose your friends, they were totally accepting of queerness if not queer themselves. And so what if anyone else judged you? You never cared about anyone’s opinion before.

“I thought you were the most annoying person in the world just a few weeks ago. I still do. So what if we like each other? That doesn't mean we’re meant to be together. I’ve known myself well all my life. I’ve known what I wanted, who I wanted, where I wanted to be-”

“This is ‘bout’cha feelin’ like ya don' know yerself anymore?” Hobie scoffed. “Things change, sunshine. Life happens. Grow up.” It was harsh, but you needed to hear it. You liked men, Hobie specifically, men generally. Who cares? Not him, not your friends, not the people that matter in your life. “If I like you and you like me, wouldn' i’ make the most sense for us to at least try to make sometin’ outta this?”

You were silent. Utterly and terribly silent. You didn't know what else to say. You felt ridiculous for holding on to this idea of yourself that you’d never live up to. You couldn’t believe you were admitting this but Hobie was making sense. Who cares if you like men, like him. Sure, it might come as a shock to everyone but in the end, what does it truly matter?

You look at Hobie with big eyes and your hands reached out to pull him a little closer. Who cares, you told yourself. The guilt still ate away at you but with time, you knew it would go away.

Hobie deemed it safe to kiss you. He was cautious, easing his lips onto yours, tender and innocent until it wasn’t. It was all the sum of their parts. Lips, teeth, tongue, passion, drowning desire. You reciprocated with the same timid carefulness of someone unsure of how to be gentle, how to be intimate without being aggressive.

Hobie’s fingers curled into the fabric of your shorts, pulling you closer until your body was flush with his. Your arms fell over his shoulders, fingers mindlessly scratching at the nape of his neck while your teeth nip softly at his lip piercing. He pressed you to the wall much like you had done to him that night in the bathroom and pressed his body closer to yours. You didn’t mind that all his spikes in studs were digging into your flesh. You welcomed his sharp abrasiveness.

You guided Hobie to the couch, where the two of you fell into a tangle of limbs and caressing touches. Hobie was on top of you, his large hands still on your hips but slowly beginning to roam about your body while the two of you kissed.

Fuck, he was hard already but so were you so it made the matter all the less embarrassing. Your arousal only made him harder, more desperate for you. Hobie’s hands grasped at your hips and waist in an act of worship, before sliding between your legs to palm at your aching cock pressing against the front of your underwear.

“Hobie~” you whined softly, moaning onto the fullness of his lips before your tongue sought out his once more. “Fuck, fuck, just like that.” You should be embarrassed by how desperate you are, you both should. Your hands ferally tug at each other's clothing, just enough to get your cocks out and rutting against each other. His was bigger than yours, thicker, with veins running along the sides. He was uncut and pretty. And the direct comparison of your sizes made your cock twitch and leak onto your stomach. His precum dripped down and mingled with yours.

Hobie was not shy about rutting his hips and rubbing his length against yours. Your hands continued to pull off clothing after clothing. His vest, your shirt, his pants then yours. Until you both were totally nude, minus the spiked collar Hobie still wore.

“I don’t– I don’t know what to do.” You said between bated breaths and eager kisses. Hobie pressed his hips down against yours and you whimpered just slightly. You felt his smooth yet scarred skin under your palms and felt at ease. You looked at him almost pathetically and felt your face grow hot as Hobie rolled his hips into yours and chuckled at you. The leaky tip of his cock rubbed the underside of your mushroom head and you shivered.

Hobie’s lovely lips kissed your cheek and began to hover over your jaw and down your neck. “I’ll show ya, sunshine. We’ll take turns, yeah?” He suddenly became as sweet as sugar, so sweet you could taste it on your tongue when he kissed you again. “I’ll show ya how t’do i’, then you can do i’ t’me.”

He was so gentle when he touched you, but you writhed and squirmed with every trace of his fingers along your body. “Do ya have lube?” He murmured against your flesh as he kissed a small sweet spot at the base of your neck. You nodded, a bit slowly. “I think… It’s somewhere in my room. I never needed to — fuck — use it before.” For the life of you, you couldn’t remember exactly where it was. Your brain was too fuzzy, Hobie was starting to move his hips faster and the way his cockhead rubbed yours was starting to make you delirious. “I can’t remember,” you murmur hazily. “I can’t remember, I can’t remember. God, please don’t stop.”

“Yer actin’ like this ‘n ‘m not even fuckin’ ya yet.” Hobie chuckled lowly into your ear. It tickled and you weren’t sure if that’s what made you shiver or the way he wrapped his lithe fingers around your cocks and squeezed just enough to apply a perfectly delicious amount of pressure.

You couldn’t help but to roll your hips into his hand while Hobie thrusted his forward. He watched the way you huffed and whimpered, almost whining. You squeezed your eyes shut and simply let yourself feel his length against yours. His tip rubbed yours, precum leaking onto your slit. It was just enough to make you come undone.

You didn’t even know you came until you felt it pool all over your tummy. Your eyes opened, bleary and out of focus as your cock twitched. You reached down, looking up at Hobie who was pushing his hips in shallow thrusts. He was close, you could tell just by the way he moaned, deep and pretty like he was singing just for you.

You reached down and dragged your thumb over his dark tip, pressing against his slit and rubbing in short, tender strokes. Hobie’s hips shuddered and his lips parted just enough to let out something of a guttural groan. “Fuck– ‘m close, sunshine. Yer doin’ so good.”

Hobie came soon after you, with a few more short rubs of his tip, he spilled out all over your hand and tummy, his cum pooling in with yours into a large, milky puddle. It was warm, a bit more viscous than yours, came out in globs that landed on your abdomen.

Hobie leaned in and kissed you once again. You melted into him, your hands cupping his face to pull him closer. “Please fuck me, Hobie.” You plead with him, panting into his mouth with a desperation you’ve never before known. You parted your legs wider, exposing yourself to him, offering yourself to him. You looked so handsome like that, legs spread and cum on your belly. “Use our cum if you have to. Please, I need it.”

He was taken aback by your eagerness to be fucked. “This’ll be ya first time bottoming, yeah?” You nod sheepishly. Hobie smiles that smile you’d usually scoff at but now, all you could do is marvel at it. You swooned at it, your lips pulling into the smallest smile of its own. “Will you let me fuck you after?” You ask in the smallest voice as if you were almost embarrassed by your request. But you couldn’t help it. “Please, I really wanna fuck you.”

“Awww ya wanna fuck me, sunshine?” Hobie crooned at you. He laughed robustly as you slapped his shoulder and turned your face away. “You can always leave, dickhead.” He kissed at your neck and chest, nipping slightly at your skin. “You don’ wan’ me t’do tha’.” Hobie continued to kiss at your neck while dragging his fingers through the puddle of cum on your tummy.

Your lips parted and a small gasp left you as the pad of his fingers circled over the tight rim of your puckered hole.

“Ya wanna prep first, jus’ tease i’ open.” Hobie pressed a singer against your hole, listening to your soft whines as his finger eased into you. The intrusion felt odd, but not bad. He whispered for you to relax. “‘M no’ gonna hurt’cha.” He gathered more cum and made sure his path was nice and slick. “‘M gonna add another finger.”

“Just do it— please.”

Hobie wasted no time sliding another slickened finger into your taut hole, his eyes watching the way you bite your lip and stifle a whimper. His fingers didn’t search for your prostate, his cock would do that work for him. He was just focused on opening you up and ensuring that you’d be ready to take him. Your hands gripped his shoulders. Your face twisted, not exactly with discomfort. It was a feeling you could get used to with time.

Hobie and that dimpled smile that grove you mad. You almost wanted to say something but every time you opened your mouth, you simply cried out. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” You were desperate, every desire you’ve ever had spilling out of your mouth, every fantasy you’ve had about him since that night in your closet. You wanted him to fuck you, you wanted to fuck him, you wanted you bodies to melt into one another.

And when Hobie pulled his fingers from your wanton hole and gathered more cum to spread down his length, you prepared yourself for an unbearable pain. You’ve seen porn like this but no one has ever been nearly as big as him.

He placed his tip against your wet hole, looked at your face for any sign of pain, and slowly eased himself in.

Your mouth fell open and your back arched as you whimpered. You could feel him splitting you open, parting your tight walls to make space for him. Your walls were molded to his cock. Hobie groaned above you, hands gripping at your hips and thighs to ground himself. “Ya feel so good, sunshine. Bloody hell. Stay still f’me.”

But you couldn't, you wiggled and writhed with something of discomfort and pleasure. His intrusion was not exactly welcome but certainly not discouraged. The sounds that left you were ones you’ve never heard before. They were new and unknown, whiny and loud as Hobie pressed against something soft and sensitive inside you. Suddenly discomfort was welcome and you needed more.

He pressed his hips flush to yours, rolling his hips and offering shallow thrusts that made him poke and prod at that spot that made your toes curl. You tossed your head back, eyes rolling back into your head, fingernails sinking into his flesh. “Hobie, Hobie, Hobie.” You whimpered as he buckled down and pulled out only to fuck himself back into you.

Hobie was desperate, ravenous, trying so hard not to hurt you while also satisfying his need to have you. He loved the way you sang for him, your whiny moans growing higher with each thrust into your hole. You trembled and you sang and you opened your legs wider to feel him deeper if such a thing was really possible. You could feel him in your throat, choking.

Your orgasm came so quick you hardly had the chance to say anything before you were squealing, your cock leaking more cum onto your tummy with a few hard twitches. Your mind was so hazy, but you had enough sense to hide your face in the bend of your elbow to hide from the embarrassment of coming so swiftly.

You expected Hobie to laugh at you, tease you for it. But he gently took your arm from you face and leaned down to pepper kisses across your heated face. “I’s okay, sunshine. I’s ya first time. Only right you’d be sensitive.” His fingers traced up and down your side as he placed his lips on yours and kissed you with a tenderness you still couldn’t believe he was capable of.

“Y’want me t’keep goin’ or do y’want yer turn?”

He made you feel safe and comfortable. As comfortable you could be having sex with another man.

“Can you ride me? I wanna look at you.”

Hobie chuckled, slowly pulling out of you with a pop that made you shiver. “So obsessed with me.” Your lips tugged into a lighthearted scowl that soon faded as Hobie scooped up your cum from your abdomen and reached back to prep himself, slowly sinking a finger into his ass, soon followed by another.

You watched, dazed and amazed, admiring the contours of his face as he let out a breathy little moan. Hobie smirked at you, “like what’cha see?” You didn’t have enough sass left in you to pretend that you didn’t. You just wanted him, to feel him, to make him cum like he made you cum. You wanted his pleasure, wanted him.

You sat up into a sitting position and watched as Hobie came and straddled your lap. Your hands found purchase on his boney hips and he looked into your eyes as he stroked your cock with his cum-covered hand. “Le’s see how fast I can get’cha t’cum this time.”

“You don’t have to rub it in my face.”

“No’ rubbin’ i’ ya face, sunshine. I jus’ think i’s cute.” Hobie leaned down and kissed you again, just a peck that left you wanting more. He settled down and positioned your cock against his hole before slowly and carefully sinking down onto you.

It felt different than being with a woman, tighter, warmer, less wet. A moan ripped from your throat, your mouth falling open to gasp and shudder. Your hands stroked Hobie’s sides to soothe yourself. “Fuck– Hobie~ God, you feel so good.” You were gasping for air, breathless. Your cock was still sensitive. You’d cum in no time.

Hobie grinned, settling into your lap, rolling his slender hips into yours. He rode you slowly at first, drawing out noises no other person has ever made you vocalize before. He cooed at you, his lips on yours, his tongue in your open mouth. Then he rode you hard and fast, with the skill of someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

You were borderline pathetic. Rendered down to nothing more but a gasping, whimpering, drooling mess. You should have more self-respect, but Hobie was taking any semblance of it from you. His hole squeezed you tight, a vice grip that left your eyes rolling. “Ngh, mmh~” You were writhing beneath him, hands gripping, nails sinking into flesh.

You held Hobie close. His chest to yours, his cock slapping against your wet abdomen, his fingers laced into your hair. There was something so terribly intimate about it, how close you two were. The desperation on both parts was thick in the air, hot with the smell of sweat and sex. When Hobie stopped kissing you, a string of saliva connecting your lips. You two looked at each other and you felt as though your face had been shoved into lava.

Hobie grinded his hips down and his head lulled back. You had touched his soft spot and he let out a pretty, baritone moan. He squeezed you tight and stroked your cock softly and just as Hobie had suspected, you came, without warning. You had meant to cum on the outside, your hands attempting to push Hobie off of you when your cock began to twitch, but he seemed intent on staying.

You came inside, nice and deep, your hips shuddering. Hobie groaned, low and loud, and came onto you stomach and chest.

You both were left panting, tired and suddenly sore. Hobie looked at you, waiting for that moment where it all switches and you realize that you’ve made another mistake– where you suddenly become cold again. You looked up at him, eyes unsure but softly pleading for reassurance. “Please tell me this wasn’t a mistake.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Hobie got up off of you and sat on his heels beside you. His hands traced imaginary shapes into your cum-covered chest before leaning in to litter pecks across your face. “I’ wasn’ a mistake, sunshine. Nothin’ we did was a mistake.” His lips finally found yours and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. His lips soothed you.

“Le’s see where this takes us. We don’ have t’put a label on i’ righ’ now.”

You looked rather sheepish, turning your head away from him. “What if I want to put a label on it?” If you were going to do this, you wanted to do it right. You wanted Hobie to belong to you and you to belong to him. “Don’t get me wrong, you still annoy the hell out of me and sometimes I want to knock you over the head with a frying pan, but I want us to be something.”

There was that smile, that gorgeous, charming, irritating smile. It was so cocky, so arrogant, so Hobie. You adored it.

“Then le’s be something’.”

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #spiderman #spider punk #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown smut #hobie smut #atsv hobie smut #spiderpunk smut #spiderpunk x male reader #sunshine

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aii-ki · 3 days

Text

9:34pm—

﹒ @Yang Jungwon ﹕☆

﹟ Summary · Jungwon's your best friend who's a little (a lot) obsessed with you and is rlly flirty ㅤׂ

┆Note's﹒I went to the enha concert in Tacoma and Wonnie's bias wrecking me so hard rn :(, also this was written rlly quickly and its not proofread so.. I'm sorry, but I'm working on the first chapter of project, love solomon so look out for that ♡

9:34pm — The phone rings "Wonie" appears on screen, a mix of surprise and delight on your face follows

Jungwon was supposed to be grounded—you too hadn’t hung out in a few days which was a lot to Jungwon, you could never spend longer then an hour away from him in school without him tracking you down and following you around like a puppy dog, so a few days? The poor boy must be losing his mind.

"Jungwon? I thought you were grounded" A slight chuckle escaping your mouth "I am" you could tell he was grinning through the phone "i snuck my phone back" "Are you dumb? You‘ll get in trouble" "I had to talk to you, haven’t heard your pretty voice in forever" Usually Jungwon's flirty choice of words never phased you much, but his tone of voice mixed with the raspiness from being sleep put chills down your spine "Ohh so you missed me?" "Of course i did, who wouldn’t." his voice trailed off into a whisper, making you chuckle at his drowsy state "Plus my parents went to sleep a lot earlier then usual which means this is my one chance to talk to you" "Using your only chance to talk to me? I’m honored" Friendly sarcasm lacing your voice "I missed you alright? Making it worse, Im not even aloud to talk to you in school, im so busy with exam‘s. I’m going crazy baby" Again this language wasn’t new to you when it came to Jungwon, but something’s hitting different tonight. "Yeah? You should come over then baby" You wanted to tease him but he went silent, almost as if actually considering it "I’ll be there in 10" "Jungwon no i was kidding." "I want to see you" You‘d never called him anything like that before. He was hopeful you weren’t kidding "No you‘ll get in trouble... last time you tried to sneak out you got caught before you even had your shoes on. Don’t be dumb wonnie" "Okay okay.. just stay on the phone with me baby" "Deal" "Good. Iv missed you" "I know wonnie, you‘ve told me like 5 times" "It‘s true though…" "…I can’t go this long without talking to you. It feels like i haven’t seen you in forever, i’m having withdrawals" A sleepy chuckle leaves your mouth "You‘re so clingy wonnie.." "Mm only for you." His voice was deep and quiet Something about him tonight is driving you crazy "Don’t know how much longer i can go without touching you" Why‘d he say it like that.. I know what he means but why did he have to say it like that. "Hearing your voice.. staring at you in class." "That‘s why you‘re failing english." You thought maybe, just maybe, changing the subject will get him to stop making you feel like this "That‘s okay. English isn’t as important" He brought it right back "Jungwon…" You let out a small whine of his name, making him smirk "What? It‘s the truth" "You should get some sleep wonnie" "You said you‘d stay on the phone" He sounded almost offended "You sound so tired though" "Mmm i am but that doesn’t matter, i wanna talk to you.. Just stay on the phone okay? Keep talking to me, i’ll fall asleep eventually" "You can’t fall asleep if i’m talking to you the whole time stupid" "Of course i can, your voice is so soothing baby." Hes so flirty tonight, more then usual. "Okay, fine. But only if you promise to actually get some sleep." "I promise." "Good. Goodnight wonnie" ---- "Goodnight my pretty girl"

His pretty girl? If only

✧ ˚ ࿔ @seungki.!! · ˚ *

#jungwon #enhypen #yang jungwon #wonnie #jungwon fluff #lovejungwon #cats

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tangerinesgf · 3 days

Note

Loved your first Tom Ryder fic!!!

For a request I was thinking maybe something where he's supposed shooting a movie and everybody's looking for him trying to find him and he's off somewhere on set having sex with his girlfriend. They get caught and you can decide how it goes from there :) (if you're interested in writing it of course 🥰)

Tom Ryder x FEM!reader

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, P in V sex, slight dirty talk, fluff, getting caught

A/N: Thank you so much for your request I absolutely loved it!! I hope you love it too! In my mind Tom Ryder is a total sub, so I tried to play with that a little bit, but I have more idea in that regard.

It was no unusual occurrence to find Tom Ryder missing from set. In fact it had become quite predictable and most of all frustrating for the people who were working with him. He is the movie star after all, the main character, without him there is no movie.

Usually he would be found either daydrinking or in his trailer with the excuse of not being in the right mood to film the scenes that day. He had to be in the right headspace to portray his character. You see Tom Ryder was the world famous actor, in his eyes everyone had to accomodate to him and not the other way around.

Yet this time it was neither one of those things.

So while everyone was worrying about the disappearing daylight on set, that was the last thing on Tom’s mind while pushing you up against one of the huge fake rocks on set. It was one of the few days where you could actually be with him on set and he’d be damned if he was gonna let that go to waste.

The moment he spotted you behind the camera, watching him do a scene he excused himself from set, earning him eye rolls from all the other cast and crew members.

The two of you disappeard and haven't returned since.

“Fuck baby, it’s been so long..” He mutters in between kissing you from your lips to your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. He needs you badly.

Tom hadn’t even bothered to put on something else, so here he was in his full on space cowboy attire including the hat, pressed against you. It almost felt like you were sneaking around like a bunch of horny teenagers in high school.

“It’s only been a week, Tom.” You chuckle softly, your voice already a bit breathless from his touch.

“Mhm.. too long.” He trails kissing down from your neck to your cleavage. His hand move down and start playing with your skirt, making his intentions quite clear to you. “I need you, baby.. please..”

How could you ever deny him when he looks up at you with those sad puppy eyes, begging you to let him fuck you into next week. You nod slowly and pull him in for a deep kiss.

He kisses you like a starving man, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue. Meanwhile Tom’s hands hastily try to undo his belt, at this point he doesn’t care if he rips his entire costume. They probably have another 10 lined up for him anyway. All he can think about is being inside you right now, the sweet sounds you make when he fucks you, your hands in his hair, you lips on his..

Fuck, fuck.

“Shit..” The actor mutters as he keeps struggling with his belt until he finally manages to unbuckle it. He quickly shoves his pants down his legs along with his underwear revealing his hard cock, the tip already red and leaking pre-cum. You practically groan at the sight of him, yes it had only been a week but you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again.

He lifts your skirt up and pulls your panties down, a grin appears on his face as he notices you’re already dripping for him. He licks his finger and teasingly runs it along your wet and sensitive folds. “God baby.. you’re so wet.”

You whine softly, aching for any kind of friction between your legs. Your eyes are locked on his as he licks your juices off his finger, if you weren’t so good at composing yourself you’d be drooling over him right now.

“Ready?” You nod in return. He smiles at your consent and slowly pushes his throbbing cock inside you, dragging a long moan from your throat. He lets out a string of curses as he pushes himself in all the way in, everytime with you felt just like the first and he never got tired of it.

Once he’s all the way inside he let’s you adjust to his size for a moment, kissing you from your neck down to your collarbone. “Doing so well f’me, baby..” He mutters.

When you give him the sign he slowly pulls out before slamming his cock right back into you, hitting you in just the right spot. Your hands move up to his dirty blonde hair, fisting your hand in it. “Fuck- Tom just like that..”

You get completely lost in the pleasure between the two of you. His hips rutting into you while he sucks marks onto your neck, dragging moan after moan from you.

“Missed you.. and your pretty little cunt.” He groans loudly as you clench around him. You’re so caught up in each other that you don’t even notice Gail coming around the corner until it’s too late.

“Tom! We’ve been looking everywhere for ya!” She doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest about the position she’s found you both in, because let’s be honest she’s caught him do worse things.

“Jesus fuck-” Both of you startle and Tom curses as he quickly uses his long coat to cover you both up. He stares at her with a look of annoyance and disbelieve, although he should have known that his producer is not one for playing around. “What the fuck Gail?”

“We’re losing dayligt, Ryder. Chop chop.” Gail ushers and crosses her arms as she stares you both down.

“Fine.. fucking hell.. could you just- just turn around.” Gail rolls her eyes, but eventually turns around to give you both whatever privacy you got left.

“You gotta talk boundaries with her, Tom. I swear to god.” You tell him in an ushered voice, so Gail can’t hear anything. He sighs and reluctantly pulls out of you, making you let out a soft whine. “I know, baby.. I’m sorry. Shoulda taken proper care of you, hm? I’m gonna make it up to you I promise, love.”

He neatly fixes your panties and skirt back in place before pulling his own pants back up. Both of you are left disappointed and wanting, but Tom had a job to do. Unfortunately.

“Meet me at the loft tonight?” He’s giving you those puppy eyes again. God you love him.

You nod and receive a very happy Tom Ryder in return. He kisses your forehead softly before walking towards Gail with that usual annoyed look on his face.

“I told you not to interrupt me when i’m ‘busy’.” You can hear Tom whisper to Gail.

“And I told you I wouldn't, but you were still wearing your damn mircophone, you idiot.” She tells him return and Tom just shrugs, seemingly not bothered by the fact that the entire cast and crew just hear him fuck his girlfriend. But then again you’ve never seen him embarrassed or ashamed of anything and you’ve seen things. You don’t hear anything else before they disappear out of view.

Guess you’d have to finish this later tonight.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you have any Tom Ryder requests pleasse don't hesitate to leave me a message, Reblogs and comments are so much appreciated you have no idea. Love you guys <3

Taglist: @earth-elemental18 (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron johnson #aaron johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #tom ryder #the fall guy #tom ryder x reader #atj #fanfiction #the fall guy fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson smut #tom ryder smut

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scoobydoodean · 3 days

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I think people tend to view Dean as more unhinged about Sam because Sam seems to be the one shown consistently "fine" living without Dean. Like S8 Sam and series finale Sam. Like not trying to get Dean back. Whereas in S6 Dean said he tried to get Sam out of the Cage but kept hitting dead ends. But he didn't just let Sam go like he said he would. Sam seems to be less hesitant to just let Sam go and more able to live on without Dean. Idk what are your thoughts on this?

Context

The thing is is that I don't feel the need to respond to the notion that being willing to sacrifice yourself for your brother is more unhinged than killing people to keep him alive or get him back or get revenge on his behalf. Because I don't think that's true at all. All that difference reflects is Sam's willingness to go to morally questionable lengths beyond where Dean will go. Dean's moral compass will cause him to hit a point where his only option is self-sacrifice long before Sam ever hits that wall.

That said... some of what you've said is extremely misleading.

Between season 3 and 4, Sam ignored Bobby's calls and spent months in a bottle stumbling drunk, drinking hard liquor straight from a bottle. He captured a crossroad's demon and tried to trade his life for Dean's (Gifset), and tried to open The Devil's gate (Gifset). He at one point planned to charge into battle against Lilith knowing he would lose and die—it's an intentional suicide mission (4.09). He also readily rejects Dean's dying wishes by working with Ruby for revenge against Lilith (Gifset).

Contrast this with season 6: Dean researched how to get Sam out of The Cage—in books--on the side while living with Lisa and Ben, without risking his own life or anyone else's, and without trying to make any demon deals or do anything else reckless, and while managing PTSD.

Which of these people actually sounds more "fine"? Because there's an objectively correct answer here and it's not Sam.

Season 8 Sam is an exception—not the rule. What we're looking at is not character growth (we need no more proof of that than season 10 and The Book of the Damned). The Reason Sam Is Like That™️ is because he's experiencing a break from reality.

As for 15.20 Sam, we have no idea if Sam tried to find a way to bring Dean back. SPNWin might actually suggest Sam has been trying to get Dean back the entire time Dean's been dead (depending on whether you think "Clarence" is an obvious Cas reference, whether the brother relationship makes it clear he's Sam, or whether he's both). Regardless, at that point we are dealing with a Sam who has maxxed out his knowledge about the pitfalls encountered when you try to bring back your family (this includes Jack). This makes him generally less reckless because he vividly understands the consequences. We see the same thing with Dean as early as season 6, and again in 13.21, when he thinks Sam has been torn apart and is convinced to leave Sam behind and prioritize the safety of the people around him instead.

Additionally, a lot of the less versus more reckless plays the brothers make with their own lives have to do with how badly they might be struggling with suicidal ideation at one point or another. This is a massive motivator for Dean's deal in 2.22 for example. His actions aren't just about Sam—they're also about his belief that he "came back wrong" and shouldn't be alive, and that dying will set the universe right. Literally the entire season he is struggling with the intense guilt and a sense of wrongness over being alive.

So yeah. One time, Sam abandoned Dean to die. At other times, he came up with plans that involved sacrificing himself, or other people, or dedicated himself to revenge to the exclusion of all else.

#mail

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ashtheketchum · 3 days

Text

A new family Part 10

A/N: This is the final part of this story! But I'm already working on a few scenarios and other little stories with Daryl! (Pic from Pinterest!)

Warnings: Mention of rape, mention of abuse, mention of death

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

Masterlist!

________________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

We ran out of the lab until we were at the glass walls that would lead us outside. Again we tried to open those doors, but this time I helped. I took a metal bar and hit the glass. Daryl hit it with an ax, Tdog hit it with a chair, and Shane also hit the glass a few times. But nothing helped. "Rick, I have something that might help…" Carol suddenly shouted. We immediately looked at Carol, who handed Rick a grenade. Rick looked at her quietly for a moment before I ran past him. “Do it now, Rick!” And immediately the police officer at the time responded by placing the grenade there. "Everyone down!" Daryl shouted and we all laid on the floor. I laid over (D/N) and pressed us both firmly to the ground.

After just a few seconds, the grenade exploded and the glass wall shattered. I stayed still for a moment before (D/N) climbed up and pulled me up. “Come on, Mom…!” Before I could react, someone grabbed (D/N) and pulled me up.Daryl held (D/N) tightly against his chest and he brought us both out. Since there were still a lot of walkers out there, he pushed (D/N) into my arms and he cleared a path for us, just like Rick and Shane. We ran as fast as we could to our cars. "Mom, where's Dale!?" I heard (D/N) ask. "I don't know, sweetie…"

“Ge´ in the car, now!” Daryl shouted and he staggered us towards him. I hesitated for a moment before running over to him and pushing (D/N) inside. I climbed after her, then Daryl and he pushed us both as deep as he could. He lay protectively on top of us when we suddenly heard the huge explosion. The cars jolted and we felt a brief wave of heat before everything became quiet.

When we sat up again, we saw that the entire CDC was engulfed in flames. Black smoke rose into the air and the walkers moved towards the fire. (D/N) also looked out the window before gently shaking my shoulder. "Mom! There are Dale and Andrea!” She then exclaimed with relief. I immediately smiled happy when I saw the two of them running towards us. They got into the RV before Daryl then exhaled loudly and rubbed his face. "We have ta ge´ outta here…" And with those words, Daryl climbed into the driver's seat, I sat between him and (D/N) again.

We drove further and further away from the city before we had to take a break. It was far away from the city, but closer to the forest. Daryl stopped the car before looking at me and (D/N). I stared out the window as (D/N) looked away from Daryl. “Are ya okay…?” He then asked. He no longer seemed aggressive, but more concerned and gentle. But (D/N) didn't want to talk to him, she didn't make a sound. "Yeah… we're just… in shock…" So I answered quietly. "I'm going to Sophia and Carl." (D/N) said suddenly before running out of the car.

She slammed the door and ran to the RV, which was only four meters away. "He, don' just run away!" Daryl shouted, but before he could get out I grabbed his arm. (D/N) got into the RV before Daryl then looked at me confused. "You scared her…" I murmured quietly. "Wha´? She should be afraid of tha´ crazy doc, no´ me!” "You hurt her and reminded her of her father! I am her mother and I protect her, even from you!” I then snapped. Daryl looked at me in shock for a moment before looking out again.

There was a brief silence between us, but I hadn't released my grip on his arm. Daryl didn't scream, he wasn't angry, he wasn't annoyed. He was just quiet. "Wha´ do ya mean by tha´? Why did I remind her of her old men?” The archer then asked. I swallowed hard before exhaling loudly. "Your actions at the CDC… the aggressive behavior, the way you pushed her… everything reminded her of her father…" Daryl only now seemed to realize what he had done. He wanted to get out, but I grabbed his other hand. He immediately jumped and looked at me in shock. "Leave her alone for a while… she wants to calm down… it was all too much…" I then asked him.

My eyes looked pleadingly at Daryl and luckily he listened to me. He relaxed for a moment before withdrawing his hands and rubbing them over his face. "Wha´ did her old men do…? Wha´ did he do to ya to make her happy she killed him?” I stayed quiet again. Why did I hesitate? Her father was a terrible person. But somehow I couldn't let go. I kept thinking about him. "Her father… was a terrible person… I… was in the same situation as Carol… we were beaten every day, locked in, not given anything to eat… and he raped me…" I then murmured quietly.

Daryl remained silent, but I could see that he looked a little angrier now. "When the walkers came… he ate our supplies and kept sending us out to find more food…" I now looked Daryl deep in the eyes. But my eyes showed no remorse. Just sadness and fear. "We then left him to the walkers and fled… before he could even follow us, he was torn apart by the walkers. I saw it. And (D/N) heard it…" Daryl looked at me quietly before exhaling loudly. He looked out the car window before looking back at me. "How´d she react?" "Not the way she put it at the CDC…" I couldn't say anything more.

Daryl remained silent before placing his hand on the back of my head and pulling me closer to him. He put my head on his shoulder and kissed my head. "Tha´ sucks…" I had to smile for a moment, Daryl really wasn't good with words. But who could blame him? How else would you have reacted in such a situation? I wouldn't know it myself. "Give her some time… and then apologize… Please…" I murmured quietly before looking up at him.

His blue eyes looked at me uncertainly for a moment before he nodded. "I'll do it…" he just mumbled quietly. I smiled softly before gently pressing my lips to his. The redneck flinched briefly, but then kissed me back gently. I closed my eyes and melted into the kiss. When we leaned away, Daryl immediately looked away and I could see a slight blush on his cheeks. "Let's get outta tha´ car and hear wha´ Rick says…" He just mumbled before getting out.

PoV Daryl:

After Rick told us what we were going to do, we went back to the cars. (Y/N) walks up to me and taps me gently. She pulls me a little closer to her and whispers something in my ear. When she was finished, she broke away and then went to Lori and Rick and talked to both of them. I looked after her uncertainly before looking at (D/N), who was sitting with Carl and Sophia. I took a deep breath before I walked up to her and knelt down in front of her. Carl and Sophia looked at me briefly before getting up and walking away. (D/N) stayed still, but looked at the ground.

I cleared my throat briefly before looking away. " He... We have ta drive on straigh´ away… you wanna ride the motorcycle with me?" I then asked her. (D/N) looked at me uncertainly for a moment, her gaze briefly went to Merle's motorcycle and then to my face. She tugged at her shirt before looking back down. "I could show ya how fast tha´ motorcycle can go… and maybe I'll show ya a few tricks while huntin´…" I then murmured quietly. Now she looked up again and her eyes sparkled briefly. I gave her a brief, strained smile before she stood up and nodded. "Okay…" She then said quietly.

I stood up again and placed my hand on her head. I ruffled her hair firmly before leading her to the motorcycle. We put it out and I put her on it. "Wait a minute, where do you want to go!?" I suddenly heard someone calling. (D/N) and I watched (Y/N) as she walked towards us and looked at us suspiciously. She also crossed her arms. "Daryl wants to show me how to hunt and we wanted to ride motorcycles." (D/N) then said happily. It was good to hear her happy again.

(Y/N) opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, she looked at me sternly and I pressed my lips into a line. "Ya mean´ I should apologize ta her with things I'm good at…" "I didn't mean anything like that." Her voice was stern and I looked back briefly at (D/N). The little girl looked at me pleadingly before looking down. "Well… okay, we'll go hunt a bit and I'll show ya at another time, ´kay?" I then suggested.

"Good." "Come on!" (Y/N) and (D/N) uttered at the same time. (Y/N) turned around and then went to Dale and Tdog to discuss the next step with them. My gaze stayed on her all the while before I heard (D/N) call my name. "Daryl!" "Hm?" I just grumbled quietly. "Why did you give up so quickly?” She then whimpered loudly. I had to snort in amusement for a moment before I lifted her off the motorcycle and stroked her head. "´Re ya crazy? I’m no´ arguing with yar mom when it’s about yar life.”

Even though (D/N) was pouting, I could see that she had to hold back her laughter. "Wha´?" “You’re a afraid of her.” She then laughed quietly. I hissed briefly before flicking her forehead. "No´ true. I just respect yar mom…" After I said this, I looked back at (Y/N) who was talking to Lori. I had to smile for a moment before I felt (D/N) grin at me. God, I couldn't be mad at either of them, but at the same time I could knock the grins off both of their faces. "…okay, maybe I'm a lil´ scared…but don' tell her anythin´, otherwise she'll allow herself to do too much." I then whispered quietly to (D/N). "I say nothing. Now let’s go hunting!” And with these words she ran towards the forest.

I chuckled briefly before stopping and running after her. "He, kid! Don’ just run awa´ like tha´! Damn it!” I then shouted after her, with my crossbow in my hand.

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #twd #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader

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lightfulonion · 1 year

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hello @skijjiki!!! thanks for tagging me friend!!!!

Favorite time of year: every single day that i grace this beautiful planet ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ I unironically love Christmas so much. I love the cold and I love the fact that we can slack for a little bit and I love having an excuse and indulge myself by seeing and meeting with my loved ones. I also love spring! (<- spoken with the privilege of someone who only has mild allergies) And summer when it isn't boiling outside!

Favorite drinks: boba, COFFEE, ginger ale, wine (the semisweet ones and especially semisweet red wine ❤), fresh squeezed orange juice, HOT MILK WITH HONEY and generally whatever has sugar in it

Collect anything?: Littlest Pet Shop!!! When i was in kindergarden there was that one kid that had SACKS of lps and from then on i decided that it was my fate to defeat them... (i just said to my mum to buy me lps whenever she could and i also asked her every christmas to tell santa claus i needed the big packs with them) I also have collections of rocks and shells from different beaches that i went to! Lately i try to collect stickers from cons and such (<-literally has went to one (1) con so far) and chupa-chups cans bc they look pretty 👉👈 (not sponsored)

Favorite fics: OH BOY OH BOY! DO I HAVE THE FICS FOR YOU! I'll try to be brief: 💼 OK NO JOKE, I'll try to be brief: (in no particular order, except for the first one) 1) it's not living (if it's not with you) by brella (hq!!) TOP 1!!! IT DOESN'T GET BETTER THAN THIS FELLAS! Legit, tsukkiyama isnt even my thing but this one ticks all my boxes: desperate lead? check. the grumpy one mellows out for the sunshine one? check. the inherent value of change and becoming better by loving and wanting to express it properly and by that becoming a better person? check. GROUNDHOG DAY AU?? YES PLEASE! It's.. It's very good. Please give it a read if you want. (brella has written many good hq fics btw please check them out!) 2) Work-Related Risk Factors by parkernoir (mp100) Case fic, angsty and probably my favourite mp100 ever! It has Serizawa! It has Tome! It has Reigen trauma! It made me cry my eyes out in agony! I have a very soft spot for this. It has serirei in it but mostly it's gen if i remember correctly? yeah 3) beginners by silvercistern (mp100) fair warning it's about sex and it doesn't have just steamy scenes, it discusses generally sex and stuff. That being said it has ace Reigen in it and it made me cry 👍 4) The Negligible Self by ch_am (mp100) anything and everything by camp is a gift honestly. Angsty generally, full of whump specifically, it makes the soft, tender moments hit better and it's still in progress! Join the fun as i lose my mind with every single update! Yay! (people in the comments in ao3 are also trying to find out what is going on and it's fun) (it has a prequel too which is really good and canon-adjacent) 5) Kintsugi by SpicyChibi (mp100) it took me a week to recover from reading this. mp100 fanwriters have a way of capturing the vulnerability of serirei in a way that physically hurts me. Tender, good, I love them, I love them, I love them. Ongoing and 90,000 words so far. 6) Like A Cheap Suit, You Can Wear Me Out by Vulcanodon (mp100) written like a romantic comedy and made me laugh at every twist and turn of the plot. The last scene is forever ingrained in me and it actually makes me emotional. Case fic again and a very fun one 7) Heart Rate Rapid by Justkeeptrekkin (mp100) teacher au, all the children in one class, ongoing, literally finshed it yesterday, ACE REIGEN BELOVED. (so far no explicit content so don't pay too much mind to the rating, there are discussions of sex but only briefly and on a surface level) I love their banter and the transition from friendship to something more... sigh 8) where the night goes by bigspoonnoya (hq!!) 'the sad gay with the happy ending' tag got to me. I love bittersweet stories with happy endings (can you tell) and this one has kagehina in it.... utterly head over heels for stories where they meet many years later. 9) fake it, make it by zadderlee (hq!!) FAVOURITE KAGEHINA FIC RIGHT THERE! ongoing since good old 2019 but the author has said they are going to continue it at some point! good characterisation, i had forgotten how good it is but i keep getting back to this. 10) That Baby Does Not Belong to You (But It Could) by multifascinate (talkativelock) (hq!!) bokuaka with baby hinata. need i say more. oh, yeah and they are 20-somethings. And in college. the romance aspect is there but it mostly focuses on other things. And i love it.

anyway these are my ao3 recs bone apple teeth (pay attention to the content warnings and the tags. thanks!)

Favorite video games: i am an awful gamer but generally the story-based ones intrigue me and the ones that are fun to play together with friends! Disco elysium, Ace attorney, Mario Kart 8, Smash Bros and animal crossing!

i tag @livingonyoghurtandspite @horson @raph-red-fan and whoever wants to do this ✌ ( cough please give me fic recs i beg cough)