#without understanding why those elements are there

[priscillaxmillerx]

"Millers Girl"

Dbf!Joel x Reader

† Chapter 1

Summary:Got it — soft, sweet Priscilla. Daddy’s girl who still wears stupid dresses, drinks sweet tea on the porch, and looks at Joel like he hung the stars. She doesn’t fully understand the weight of what she’s asking for… but she feels it. The ache. The longing. And Joel knows it’s wrong — knows he should walk away — but she makes it damn near impossible.

The cicadas had already started singing, even though the sun wasn’t all the way down. The air was thick—slow and golden, like syrup—and it clung to everything: her skin, the breeze, the heat from the stovetop that made the kitchen feel like it was breathing.

She stood barefoot by the sink, rolling green beans between her fingers, snapping them one by one into the big metal bowl. Her dads radio crackled softly from the window ledge, some old country song about bad men and good whiskey playing low and dusty in the background.

“Keep an eye on that rice, sweetheart,” her father called from the other room. “Don’t want it stickin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, voice soft.

She moved around the kitchen like she always did—quiet, careful, and sweet as sugar. She wiped the counter down twice, even though it didn’t need it. Set the table with her favorite mismatched dishes. Even tucked a paper napkin into the cracked ceramic holder like they were expecting company worth impressing.

Because they were.

Joel Miller was comin’ for dinner.

Her chest fluttered just thinking about it.

It had been five months. Five long, dragging months since he’d packed up and gone off to Georgia to visit his daughter, Sarah. College girl now, her daddy had said with pride, like Joel had somehow raised her right even through all the mess. Priscilla hadn’t heard a word from him since. He’d disappeared like he always did — slipping away when things got too close, too warm, too soft.

And now he was coming back.

She bit her lip, checking the little clock on the stove. Still had time.She turned the stove down a bit and walked away.

Slipping down the hallway, she moved to the stairs and climbed them slow, careful not to let them creak. She’d already picked out her dress earlier that afternoon — the white one with tiny pink roses and the little bow on the back. It looked like something a doll would wear, and maybe that’s why she liked it. Maybe that’s why she hoped he would like it.

Her bedroom smelled like fresh linen and warm perfume. She had folded her blankets just right just in case Joel came in which isn't likely, picked the dust off the edges of her vanity mirror, and laid out a tube of strawberry lip gloss beside her pink hairbrush like a secret offering.

She took her time.

She brushed her curls until they were soft and loose. Tied a bubble gum pink ribbon in her hair. Smoothed the dress over her hips, turning side to side to see how it fell. Her cheeks were already flushed, like her skin knew something was coming.

It wasn’t wrong to want to look pretty. Not really.

And Joel wasn’t just her dad’s best friend. He was kind. He looked out for them. Came over to fix the porch railing and check on the hot water heater and bring those rough little cigars he always pretended she didn’t notice.

She just liked seeing him. That was all.

Back downstairs, her father was in his element—grilling out on the porch, humming along with the radio and drinking a cold beer straight from the bottle. He didn’t notice the change in her dress. Didn’t notice the gloss on her lips or the way she was fidgeting with the lace hem of her dress.

“You fixin’ the cornbread, baby?” he called without turning around.

“Already in the oven,” she said sweetly.

He chuckled. “What would I do without you?”

She smiled, even though her stomach was twisting itself into bows.

“I’ll bring the sweet tea out,” she said softly, lifting the pitcher with careful hands. The ice clinked inside like little bells.

-–

“Joel oughta be here any minute. Said he was stoppin’ by the shop to pick somethin’ up first.”

Her heart gave a little kick. She pretended not to hear it.

She carried the glasses outside one by one, placing them neatly on the table. The porch was already shaded, the sun dipping low behind the trees and painting the sky in soft, ripe peaches. It smelled like lemon and smoke and grass, and everything in her buzzed like the bugs in the field.

She leaned over the railing, watching the driveway. No headlights yet. No familiar sound of that rumbling truck.

Still, she waited.

Her dad kept talking about the grill, about the football game last week, about some part of the engine in his truck that needed replacing—but Priscilla wasn’t listening. She kept smoothing down the skirt of her dress, checking her reflection in the window glass, trying not to look too eager.

She just wanted Joel to see her.

To really see her. Not like a kid. Not like some little girl taggin’ along behind the grown-ups.

She wanted him to notice the way her lips glistened.

The way her collarbone peeked out of her dress.

The way her eyes always looked at him first.

She wasn’t going to say anything. She wasn’t going to be obvious.

But she was waiting.

And that, maybe, was enough.

AN: This lowk sucks I'm thinking of 2nd chapter let me know if is should change anything! Let me know if I should continue 🍓

The header sucks🥲

[twstfanblog]

ABO AU

As an aside this is literally jus tmy main story AU but with an added element of ABO Dynamics. So it follows my own headcanons Im just excited to share my 'homebrew' ABO.

Population of dynamics in Twist is 50% Beta, 35% Alpha and only 15% Omega. Betas are considered baseline in terms of scents and senses, smells ranging on the more mild side between earth and water tones. Omegas have a sweeter scent to them, ranging between fruits and flowers. Alphas have the most aggressive scents, ranging between spices and harsher earth tones. Scents can slide between dynamics, depending on where the person is on the spectrum.

While there are only three roles, dynamics are seen on a spectrum. A male omega may grow closer to Beta during puberty. A female alpha could slide into Beta as well. People can exist between two Dynamics and merely have the label that fits them best medically.

A male Omega is able to be impregnated and impregnate. Carrying and birthing are considered dangerous. Impregnating others is rare.

A female Omega is able to be impregnated. Carrying and birthing are considered easy, but has the highest spike of hormones during pregnancy.

A male Beta is able to impregnate. Fertility is seen as average. Surprisingly, dual Beta pairings can produce an Alpha or Omega baby

A Female Beta is able to be impregnated. Fertility is seen as average. Their children are the easiest to assess dynamics while in the womb.

A male Alpha can impregnate. Considered very fertile. Alphas have a trait of following scents they find pleasing. While the populace understands why they do this, it's considered rude.

A female Alpha can impregnate and be impregnated. Carrying and birthing are considered dangerous. Being impregnated is rare.

There are no strict guidelines on how people interact with each other, but certain areas have stigma on how Alphas and Omegas should be treated.

The Queendom of Roses finds Omegas to be the more preferred dynamic, since the Queen was one herself. Omegas are given more grace and socially the right of way in the queendom. They are considered humanized gardens and are to be treated with respect.

The Sunset Savana has the highest number of female Alphas. Female alphas are considered to be good luck to a community as they can protect themselves and their children easily from any threat.

The Coral Sea values Omegas for their easily retained body fat capabilities. Since the waters are so cold, having someone who is always warm is considered a luxury. It's also noted that Omegas are deeply protective of their food sources.

The Scalding Sands value Alphas and Omegas respectively. Big and bombastic is how one is heard in the desert. Alphas are heavily admired for their spice-based scents. Omegas born to a region are seen as symbols of good luck and bountiful lands.

The Shaftlands value Betas for their mild scents. The Shaftlands is a country of artisans. While signature scents are common among the upper class, those with aggressive scents are seen as upsetting to have in creative spaces without proper venting.

The Isle of Woe values Alpha as those were the dynamics of heroes from classical tales. While the country has made way of more modern approaches to dynamics, it is still considered ‘Alpha’ to be bold and heroic.

Briar Valley doesn’t value one dynamic over the other. Dynamics are truly only words to the fae, existing without the labels and fully embracing the spectrum. Few people of the valley have official dynamics, but those who travel get them for easier journeys.

Each dynamic is respected in their own right, but there are people who try to apply stereotypes and biases. 

Yuu's world believed Omegas are meant to be submissive and obedient. The official number of publicly known Omegas is much lower in Yuu's world as most Omegas wear scent blockers.

[ihavedonenothingright]

You know those moments where you see someone else review a piece of media and just. Miss the point?

[danwhobrowses]

My dear Critters and Callowmoores, Divergence has had its beautiful ending and thus, only the Wrap Up Party remains. The Wrap Up will officially close the book on Campaign 3 as a whole and frankly, I'm still not ready for it. If I'm honest, a lot of that unreadiness is from being nervous, because it's the last chance until the next one shot of Bell's Hells - whenever that'll be - for there to be catharsis for my beloved ship, Callowmoore.

Now, I'm not foolish enough to expect that a question or a discussion about it is guaranteed to show up - even if I do pluck up the courage to submit a question myself - and I'm not parasocially demanding that it's owed to us to be brought up either. I'm just hoping it will, but in this case 'hope' is less in the context of being confident and more in the context of being wishful - especially since even if a question is asked the answer can still risk being unsatisfying.

In the month since the finale my feelings about the ship's vague outcome hasn't really gotten better, I think LaterKaterSays said it best in their post about how we didn't get that 'shiny golden ending' - that feeling of vindication that proves that our support was not for naught, that it's real and intended and will serve as a comfort to get through the days after C3's end - but it was a little more than just that which left me a little forlorn. The finale already had us go through a lot; we had to endure Ashton dying - after it felt like everyone was finally safe - with a visibly distraught Fearne being their last embrace before their sacrifice, and then when they fell from the sky we watched Matt decide that a Nat 20 and a +1 Gust assist from Orym isn't enough for Shoebill!Fearne to catch Ashton like she wanted (but enough for Chetney at the same speed to push through a crowd and get underneath them for the Banish) and her desperate demand that the Kryn give her a beacon - all while holding Ashton's lifeless body in her arms - is brushed off without even a potential roll to try and sway the Bright Queen. Then, after Ashton comes back to life, after both of them become visibly altered in the aftermath of the god matter, and after all the other Hells and side characters get their time for their own stuff, we finally get back around to them and their last interaction's resolution is left up in the air. Every other ship gets to run, fly, and gallop off into the sunset - and I am truly happy for them, don't mistake this as me saying that they don't deserve it - and we're just left waiting, wanting, and wishing we could join them.

And then the next week is Valentine's Day.

One of the main times of the year in every fandom for a ship tag to flourish with art, writing, and overall positive content, and ours just, doesn't, not to the same extent. It feels like we're all holding our breath, holding our headcanons and creative ideas close out of fear that we'll curse or jinx it by letting it out. And I know Tal and Ashley - who I still admire greatly - didn't intend for this to be the reaction, but I think a lot of us riding into the finale were feeling hopeful, in the confident context, that things would work out and our patience would be rewarded, but then over 9 hours later, it wasn't; instead we're left reeling by a series of gut punches, nearly moments, and vagueness at the end of the tunnel.

I know that not everyone sees it this way, and there are those who are simply content or are able to lean on their other, more beloved ships for comfort - which, again, is not in any shape or form a problem or a slight if you do - but for me personally, I don't have that. This IS my number one CR ship, this is my comfort ship, and I know I made a post after the finale saying that we shouldn't sink into despair - and I do still mean every word - but as a result, this last month has been kinda rough on me emotionally. For someone who has used tumblr to do reviews and critiques, when it comes to my personal feelings I really do hate complaining - people are facing far worse problems and have far more legitimate reasons to be upset than I do after all - but I can't deny that since the finale I've felt less motivated for pretty much anything, everything just feels a little less than it used to - like a fire in me has been dimmed - and I keep looping back in my mind fearing that I missed something to explain why we didn't get the moment we wanted and could just live in forever, and I don't find it; every time I think back to their moments together I can't see anything less than the fact that these two characters love each other, that they understand each other on a level no-one else does, and, as they've already admitted to each other, they have the best time of their lives when they're together.

I know we each have our perspectives on where things go from here, and what suits them best, and yes, infinite possibilities does have its merits in this regard, but those possibilities also include bad ones that I could do without intrusively crossing my mind; I don't like fearing that Fearne will put off thinking about it, or that she won't be honest about her feelings and decides to settle for less, I also don't like feeling like this is the nervous energy we'll have to carry with us until whenever we see them next. Granted, if we do end up having to wait until the currently-unconfirmed reunion one shot with this uncertainty I Will Wait, you best believe that I will wait, but obviously I don't want to - nobody likes being persistently anxious after all, especially in places of comfort, and we've already waited a long time as it is.

If a question does get asked about it or the matter is brought up by the cast, I think all that those like me really need is assurance. Confirmation that Yes, Fearne thought about it and she didn't change her mind - that would honestly be enough. It still means the possibilities are endless, but they'll all be good possibilities that feed and encourage us to create and gush and flourish without the shadow of doubt. I have absolutely no right to ask, because in the end it's not about me, but I don't think that's asking for much; it's, after all, nothing as elaborate as retconning a hag pact that promised eternal service, or something as fantastical as bringing mortality back to an undead PC, much less doing it twice. But for those wondering what I am wishful for, that is it: that's all that I wish to get from the wrap up and that's all that I'm hoping for, and on Friday morning when I get to check it out before -and likely during - the start of my shift, I hope with all my heart that this wish will have come true.

[porto-rosso]

brother where is the charles appreciation

[the-lark-ascending69]

Isn't "imperial core" the academic term though? The Core and the Perisphery, Centro y Perisferia, idk how anglos are taught about it or what they call it but I'm pretty sure that's the concept we're talking about.

👀

[five-one-two-station]

At this point I am convinced some people are watching this show solely via the subtitle files, because that's the only thing that explains drastically misunderstanding everything that's not spelled out in dialogue to this extent.

Honestly some of the most embarrassing mass failure of media literacy I've ever seen. It's not even complicated stuff, it's basic text comprehension and story fluency.

- No, Caitlyn's "I know!" is not anger at being called out; she's saying she is very, very painfully aware of what she's done wrong. Watch it again.

- No she didn't take the guards away or go to the cell to have sex with Vi. TF?!?

It was Vi who initiated; Caitlyn was surprised she did.

She pulled the guards away to help Vi if/when she chose to do what she knows her well enough to know she probably would. Vi makes her choice - Caitlyn doesn't "let" her, she just supports it, because it's Vi's choice to make.

Vi has no idea she's done this until after, it doesn't affect her "agency" at all. That's not what any of those words mean!

- She did this as a direct acknowledgement of and response to Vi's previous criticisms.

You are supposed to be able to make the very, very minimal leap of imagination required to understand what the show is telling you here; that she is genuinely sorry, genuinely committed to getting her shit together, and that she has heard and received every word that Vi has told her.

The reason this gesture is so important is that it demonstrates she's now going out on a limb to put herself, her resources, and her privilege to work for the greater good.

And the reason Vi reacts the way she does is that she understands all of this immediately.

You should not need the show to sit you down and spell this out to you step by step Barney the Dinosaur style.

- She works very hard and sacrifices quite a lot to try to do right by people after fucking up so badly before, but not before very explicitly acknowledging that she can't undo the harm she's already done. And this isn't even an inference thing, she actually even says this bit out loud twice, and you still somehow missed it.

- For $5, what do you think the show was suggesting by having Sevika take up her seat, her final costume have no Enforcer uniform elements, and having her allude to an ongoing struggle. Come on, guess.

I am loathe to call people stupid just because some tv show stuff sailed over their heads, but... y'all are legitimately testing that. This is not exactly The Holy Mountain or something, it is very straightforward storytelling.

And just... I mean why would you be this loud about anything without making sure you didn't have it ass backways first?!? In public!?!? 💀

You guys, you have to watch shows to know what is happening in them.

[writingunderneathawillow]

safe with me

content warnings: smut but also a whole lot of fluff (still minors dni!), safe word usage, sub/dom elements, spanking, overstimulation, worried logan, sweet logan, female reader word count: 910 a/n: i recently posted some protective logan head cannons and haven’t been able to get them out of my head, so this was born

Logan showed his love in small gestures and grand acts, but his favourite place to prove his undying adoration to you was in the bedroom. He worshipped your body, every inch of it, with rough hands, breath stealing kisses and stamina that left you questioning whether you were in heaven. Your satisfaction and enjoyment were his top priority, a lot more than his own, which is why he had insisted on you choosing a safe word once you started having regular sex. So far, the word had not ever tumbled from your lips and neither of you had thought it would happen today. He was already buried deep within you, your ass up and face down in the pillows, gasping for breath as he thrusted into you. Sweat trickled down and mixed where your bodies met, his skill full fingers pulling another orgasm from your throbbing clit. The slapping sounds of skin on skin filled the room as Logan picked up his pace while he angled his unoccupied hand from your hip to your spine. You felt his steady grip, sweaty and warm, pressing into your skin, dull nails scraping over your nude body as he dug his fingers into you. With a breathless whine you came around his throbbing cock and felt your insides practically vibrate as the heated coil in your core snapped. You had long lost count how often he had made you come this night, but your legs were shaking, and you were hoping this was the last one. Hearing those pretty sounds tumble from your lips seemed to push Logan over the edge. With an animalistic groan he spilled into you, his pelvis pressed flush against your sensitive pussy. The second he caught his breath, his hand came down on your already sore ass, the slap so loud you worried about your neighbours’ sanity. Another high-pitched whimper escaped your throat, and you tried to sink onto the bed, but Logan wrapped an arm around your middle and held you up. “Already tired, princess?” He asked teasingly, running a much gentler hand over your stinging skin. You mumbled a response that was neither a yes nor a no, and he chuckled. “Words, sweetheart,” his raspy voice raised goosebumps all over your body, “Ones that I can understand.” With a soft groan you attempted to straighten yourself up and felt his still hard cock twitch inside of you at the movement. His stamina was simply not fair. He had fucked you more times tonight than the average person gets laid in a week, but he could still keep going. And how could you deny him when he looked at you like that, like you were the only thing holding his universe together. “Yeah,” you mumbled, trying to steady yourself on your knees again, wiggling your ass softly, “Tired but not done.” He laughed deeply and replied: “That’s my good girl,” and the praise made your head spin. However, the second he started moving again, your poor, overstimulated clit began to pulse – and not in the good way. The pleasure that you had expected didn’t come as he began work his magic on your sensitive nub; instead, you felt a sharp pain shoot up your spine as the stimulation turned out to be too much. Your face was already tear-streaked – the earlier ones had come from pleasure. Now, tears caused by pain filled your vision and made your brain hazy. Logan didn’t still completely but he slowed down as he leaned forward to see get a better glimpse of you. “Sweetheart, you alright?” His voice was incredibly soft despite the continuing movements of his hips meeting yours. You wanted to say yes, you wanted to give him just one more round but there was no way you were making it another second without passing out, so you whispered your safe word. Despite the fact that you had mumbled the term so low that you weren’t sure if he had even been able to hear it, he halted immediately. “Ok, darlin’,” he murmured sweetly, and attempted to remove himself from you but that just made you cry out again – too much. You just needed a few seconds. “Baby, I just wanna pull out, ok?” He soothed his hands over your back but all you could do in response was shake your head.

“No… don’t,” you gasped and so he stayed like this, enveloped by your heat.

He didn’t dare move, he simply kept his warm hands on your waist until you nodded softly, and he slipped out. As you let yourself fall onto the mattress, Logan got up, still half hard, and brought you one of his shirts, before he began to run his hands over your back. “Are you alright, princess?” He asked after a couple moments of silence. The ache in your body had dulled down and you managed to lift your head to face him. “Yeah, I’m ok,” you whispered honestly. His face lit up in response, replacing the worried frown with a warm smile. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly, then brushed his knuckles across your cheeks to wipe away the tears that had trickled down earlier. In one smooth movement he laid down next to you, wrapping his trained arms around you and placed another kiss in between your shoulder blades. “I’m really proud of you, darlin’. For tellin’ me to stop when you needed me to. So fuckin’ proud of you.”

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[cipheramnesia]

Tumblr has me locked into a vicious loop about horror movies, because I cannot go longer than a month without seeing:

"I don't watch horror movies at all, but I've noticed that [blatantly incorrect statement] and [factually untrue assumption] so I think we can consider [fundamental misunderstanding of horror in general]." Followed by hundreds of responses agreeing.

"I don't watch horror because I can't stand horrible things because those make any movie fundamentally bad, but I really liked [popular, generic, oscar baiting thriller]." Followed by hundreds of responses agreeing, and doubling down on how including anything beyond the most basic tension is bad filmmaking.

"Here's the best horror I've seen, I love horror so much." [List of a single, very narrow type of film, accompanied by general denigration of anything outside that narrow set] Followed by hundreds of responses going omg I need to see that now.

I'm not trying to discourage people from horror or be an asshole about it or nothing, but I do think talking about horror movies should include knowing something about horror movies, understanding how different horror elements are used, and an appreciation of the diversity in the genre. That's why I'm always digging through different styles and low budget stuff and old stuff - because to me, liking and talking about horror movies means trying to be open to all kinds of different types of horror movies.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

How the Moon Signs Crash Out

For those who don’t know what crash out means here is the Urban dictionary definition: Means to get really mad or upset; lose all your self control.

We think the water signs would crash out but every element has a point of crash out when it deals with their emotions, read below.

Fire Moon

Fire moons are the most obvious “crash-outs.” They’re the first to crash out because they act impulsively; they don’t always think things through before reacting. So, why do fire moons crash out? It’s primarily over their pride. If you play with their image or challenge what they deem as right, they’ll crash out. If you try to make them seem weak, attempt to overpower them, or force them into a position of submission or docility, they’re going to crash out.

Fire moons also crash out if you try to make them understand your perspective—especially if it clashes with theirs—and they perceive it as the start of an argument. Any slight form of disrespect will set them off. If they feel disrespected in any way, they’re crashing out. Attempts to control them can also trigger this response. However, if you respectfully suggest something, they might listen. It’s when your tone shifts to one of disrespect—like raising your voice—that they crash out.

Ignoring a fire moon is another sure way to provoke them. They will crash out if you play with their image, reputation, or how they see themselves. Similarly, if you try to dictate how they should live their life or act smarter than them, questioning their intelligence or ability to think critically, they’ll crash out.

Honorable mentions for what might make a fire moon crash out include:

• If someone flirts with their partner, they’re crashing out.

• If anyone disrespects their kids, even slightly, they’re crashing out.

• If someone talks badly about their family, they’re crashing out.

• If a trusted friend betrays or flips on them, they’re crashing out.

Fire moons are the ultimate crash-out personalities. If you ever meet one, tread carefully. Anything they perceive as disrespectful could set them off.

Earth Moons

Earth moons are known for their calm demeanor. People enjoy being around them because they provide a sense of stability and avoid unnecessary intensity—after all, earth moons struggle to handle too much emotional or confrontational energy. However, certain situations can push even an earth moon to their breaking point. Here’s what can make them “crash out.”

Because earth moons are naturally calm, they are particularly affected by intensely emotional and confrontational individuals. When faced with someone who is provocative, blunt, or openly expressive without regard for consequences, earth moons can lose their composure. They simply can’t handle that level of emotional intensity and may react by “crashing out.”

Triggers for Earth Moons:

1. Financial Instability:

Earth moons are deeply connected to material stability. If they lose their job, experience financial struggles, or dip into negative balances in their bank account, they will crash out. The loss of any valuable material possession they hold dear can have the same effect.

2. Breakups:

After a breakup, earth moons often struggle with overwhelming emotions. Their inability to process intense feelings calmly can lead to a full crash out.

3. Friendship Fallout:

Earth moons value long-term friendships, so falling out with a close friend can cause a significant emotional reaction.

4. Missed Opportunities:

If they’re rejected for a job or an opportunity they were counting on for stability, they can spiral into frustration and anger.

5. Disrupted Environment:

Earth moons need a sense of order in their living space. If someone starts moving their belongings or changing things around them without permission, they’re bound to crash out.

6. Overwhelming Demands:

Earth moons value their personal time and space. If someone demands too much of their time and ignores polite requests for space, the earth moon will eventually snap.

7. Being Wrong:

Earth moons take pride in their logic and reasoning. If they believe they’re right about something and later discover they were wrong, it can shake their confidence, leading to a crash-out moment.

8. Emotional Pressure:

Pushing an earth moon to express emotions in a way that feels uncomfortable to them can cause them to react negatively.

9. Being Controlled or Dismissed:

If someone tries to tell an earth moon how to live their life—especially someone they don’t respect—they won’t take it lightly.

10. Prolonged Exposure to Emotional Volatility:

Earth moons prefer calm, stable environments. If they’re forced to deal with someone who is consistently emotional, moody, confrontational, or volatile, their patience will wear thin, and they’ll eventually crash out.

11. Dealing with Bullies:

Earth moons try to avoid conflict, but if they’re exposed to bullying behavior for too long, they’ll eventually lose their calm and lash out.

Honorable Mentions:

• Earth moons crash out over material possessions. If someone moves, touches, or disrespects their belongings, it’s a major trigger.

• They also struggle with emotional instability after a breakup, the end of a friendship, or job loss.

• Being wrong about something they were confident in can push them to react strongly.

• Prolonged emotional confrontation or demand for their time will wear them down until they snap.

Although earth moons may not seem like the “ultimate crash-outs,” they can go all-in when their stability and calm are disrupted. Once they reach their tipping point, their reaction is swift, intense, and affects everyone around them.

Air Moons

Air Moons might seem chill because they tend to intellectualize their emotions. People often perceive them as logical when it comes to feelings, believing that emotions don’t bother them much. However, Air Moons can ultimately be the biggest “crash-outs.” Let’s break down why Air Moons might crash out.

Air Moons often analyze and intellectualize their emotions because they don’t fully understand the emotional landscape. When they’re forced to deal with intensely emotional situations, much like Earth Moons, they crash out. However, Air Moons crash out in a unique way—they try to process emotions through communication and logic, often failing to let those emotions flow naturally. This can lead them to accuse or assume things about people and situations that aren’t true. They rely on patterns and past experiences to create preconceived notions, which only adds to their frustration.

Triggers for Air Moons:

1. Things That Don’t Make Sense:

Air Moons crave understanding and clarity. If something doesn’t make sense to them, they lose control and crash out. Their curiosity is so strong that when they can’t figure something out, they start assuming things, which only fuels their frustration.

2. Lack of Communication:

If they feel ignored or if communication isn’t flowing the way they want, Air Moons will crash out. They thrive on dialogue and connection, so feeling shut out is a major trigger.

3. Challenges to Their Intelligence:

Air Moons take pride in their intellect. If someone plays with their intelligence—makes them feel dumb, uneducated, or less knowledgeable—they’re bound to crash out. They need to feel five steps ahead of others, and any slight to this will set them off.

4. Opinions and Beliefs:

Air Moons are deeply attached to their opinions, even when they aren’t entirely logical. If someone challenges their beliefs too much or tries to “win” a debate, Air Moons will crash out. They always want to feel right, and being told they’re wrong about their life, thoughts, or perspectives is a surefire way to trigger them.

5. Threats to Freedom and Independence:

Any perceived attempt to take away their independence is an automatic crash-out moment. In relationships, if their partner becomes possessive, controlling, or overly emotional, Air Moons will react negatively.

6. Emotional Intensity:

Air Moons struggle with highly emotional people. If someone is too intense or moody, constantly expressing their emotions, Air Moons will eventually crash out. They can’t handle being around excessive emotions for too long.

7. Petty Triggers:

Sometimes, Air Moons crash out over minor things. If they don’t like the way someone talks to them, or if they’re in a mood, even a small annoyance can set them off.

8. Perceived Verbal Threats:

Air Moons are highly sensitive to words. If they feel someone is trying to intimidate, disrespect, or talk down to them in a condescending or sarcastic way, they will crash out.

9. Lack of Praise:

Air Moons often feel a sense of superiority because they intellectualize their emotions. If they don’t receive acknowledgment or praise for their ideas, logic, or reasoning, they’ll crash out.

10. Being Called Emotional:

Never tell an Air Moon they’re emotional. They refuse to see themselves that way and will crash out if you try to label them as such. Comments like “You need to get over it” or “You’re stuck in the past” will only fuel their frustration.

11. Overstimulation:

While Air Moons enjoy being social, too much time around others can overwhelm them. They’ll start to feel overstimulated, with too much energy and inconsistency in the environment, leading to a crash-out.

12. Inconsistency (From Others):

Air Moons can be unpredictable themselves—they might ghost people, not text back, or fail to show up. However, if someone else is inconsistent or unpredictable, Air Moons will crash out. They expect reliability from others, even if they don’t always provide it themselves.

13. Challenges to Their Identity:

Air Moons will crash out if they feel someone is challenging who they are as a person. If they think they can take on the challenge, they’ll fight back. If they feel it’s too much, they’ll still crash out, but in a more chaotic way.

Final Thoughts:

Air Moons may not seem like the ultimate crash-outs at first, but once their calm exterior is disrupted, they can spiral quickly. Once the air starts moving, it doesn’t stop—it becomes a whirlwind of frustration, overthinking, and emotional outbursts. Tread lightly around an Air Moon if you don’t want to witness their crash-out firsthand.

Water Moon

Water Moons are often perceived as the ultimate crash-outs, but the truth is they can be quite calm—until they’re pushed too far. People don’t always understand this about them. Let’s break down why a Water Moon might crash out.

Why Water Moons Crash Out:

1. Self-Protectiveness and Boundaries:

Water Moons are extremely self-protective. If someone invades their personal space, crosses their boundaries, or confronts them abruptly, they’re going to crash out. They don’t tolerate invasive behavior or anyone overstepping their limits.

2. Lack of Emotional Understanding:

Water Moons will crash out if their emotions are misunderstood. If they express their feelings and someone twists their words or tells them they feel differently than they do, they’re crashing out.

3. Emotional Reciprocity:

If a Water Moon opens up and shares their emotions, but the other person doesn’t reciprocate, they’ll crash out. Vulnerability requires mutual respect, and they won’t tolerate feeling like they’re the only one opening up.

4. Loved Ones and Family:

Water Moons are fiercely protective of their loved ones. If someone insults or disrespects their family, friends, or those they care about, they’ll crash out—especially if it happens repeatedly.

5. Intrusiveness:

Water Moons value privacy. If someone pries into their personal life, tries to psychoanalyze them, or pushes for details they aren’t willing to share, they’ll crash out. They only share what they want others to know.

6. Feeling Disrespected:

A Water Moon won’t tolerate being made to feel stupid, weak, or incapable. If someone tries to undermine their emotional intelligence or strength, they’ll crash out immediately.

7. Not Getting Their Way:

Water Moons are deeply connected to their desires and emotions. If they don’t get their way in situations that matter to them, they’re likely to crash out.

8. Lack of Love and Nurturing:

Water Moons need emotional nourishment. If they feel unloved, unseen, or untouched—whether through physical affection, kind words, or emotional support—they’ll crash out. A lack of care or affection is a significant trigger for them.

9. Stagnation:

If a Water Moon feels like they’re stuck in life, in “stagnant waters,” or unable to move forward, they’ll spiral and crash out. A sense of progress and growth is essential for their emotional well-being.

10. Breakups or Friendship Endings:

After a breakup or the loss of a close friendship, Water Moons can lose control of their emotions. The pain and emotional intensity are overwhelming, leading to a crash-out.

11. Feeling Betrayed:

If someone switches up on them—acting friendly one day and then cold or hostile the next—Water Moons will crash out. They value consistency in their relationships.

12. Volatile Environments:

Water Moons thrive in calm, emotionally supportive environments. If they’re surrounded by manipulative, cold-hearted, or emotionally unavailable people, they’ll eventually crash out. They also won’t tolerate rudeness or outright disrespect.

13. Feeling Unappreciated:

Water Moons invest deeply in their relationships and emotional connections. If their efforts go unnoticed or unappreciated, they’ll feel hurt and eventually crash out.

14. Being Pulled Out of Their Space:

Alone time is crucial for Water Moons. If someone tries to force them to engage when they need space, they’ll crash out. Respecting their need for solitude is key to maintaining harmony.

15. Forcing Realism or Logic:

Water Moons don’t like being forced into a strictly logical or overly realistic perspective, especially when they’re in an emotional state. If they feel pressured to abandon their emotions for practicality, they’ll crash out over time.

16. Dismissing Their Trauma:

Water Moons are deeply affected by their past experiences. If someone dismisses or disregards the emotional pain or trauma they’ve endured, they’ll crash out. Their experiences are integral to their identity, and invalidating them is one of the worst things you can do.

Final Thoughts:

If you don’t want a Water Moon to crash out, it’s important to respect their boundaries, emotions, and need for connection. Water Moons are like waves—when they crash, they can disrupt the emotional stability of everyone around them. Handle them with care, and avoid testing their patience. Once they reach their breaking point, they’re hard to stop.

[muniimyg]

BAD HABIT // JJK

00 | prologue // series m.list

the divinity

there are rules to the universe. constants, like the way the moon pulls the tide, or how the seasons fold into one another without fail.

and then there are soulmates.

for the divinity—the chosen ones, the ones born with a glow beneath their skin—soulmates are less of a possibility and more of a promise.

it’s not just love.

no, that would be too easy.

it’s balance, power, inevitability.

it’s their very being. if they are stars, this is the dust of their very exitance—the very essence of it. only those in the divinity can have soulmates. only the chosen ones can feel it, but the rest of the world can see it.

when soulmates meet, the universe reacts.

auras intertwine, colors bleeding into one another, something cosmic and unbreakable settling between them.

they glow.

when soulmates glow, the invisible string ties them together. being a part for an extensive amount of time leads to sickness. simple symptoms include nausea, headaches, chest pains, and general weakness—sometimes it means life or death.

you

you were always meant to return.

it’s all you ever dreamed of—the palace, the academy, the weight of your name finally meaning something again. you spent years in the outside world, away from the divinity, away from your glow, and now—finally—you’re home.

and you’re ready.

ready to learn, to grow, to embrace your power.

ready to meet the person the universe has chosen for you.

your soulmate.

what you don’t expect is him.

jungkook

jungkook has always known who he is.

he’s a prodigy, a leader, a force to be reckoned with. his aura—golden, commanding—demands attention, his power bending the world around him with effortless precision.

he is not used to things happening to him.

he is not used to surprises.

and yet—

there you are. standing in the great hall, your aura humming in time with his, bright and unshakable.

his soulmate.

his future.

jungkook stares at you, jaw tight, eyes unreadable.

you glow.

context

words

divinity: the chosen ones with auras auras: power / their souls (depends on the context) invisible string: soulmate analogy glow: the glow only happens when soulmates initially meet and only happens when they're in pain or healing the outside: literally the rest of the world that isn't their palace. it's filled with regular people and these people depend on the divinity to keep the balance of the world going (good and bad, life and death, etc)

you

status; born into the 'royal' family that built the palace, that houses the academy. rumoured and referred to 'the long lost princess' as no one in the divinity has ever met you

aura; resistance and immune to everyone else’s powers. you're the one thing in this world that doesn’t bow to the divinity (to be dramatic, you are the divinity)

princessa; grew up outside the palace, living freely. this was because your parents wanted you to see life outside the palace and understand what you'll be responsible for

fate and responsibility; the upcoming leader of the divinity

jungkook

status; one of (if not) the highest of the divinity. he is the one in 7 generations to have this power. it makes him feared and at the same time; so precious

aura; mind control (speciality) but maniplates anything and anyone. from people's mind, feelings, and blood to elements of water, earth, fire, and air. he's basically avatar but emo because...

lifeline; jungkook's aura is rare and often short-lived. the more he uses his aura, his life line shortens. except, no one knows the length of his life line. it's a guessing game for everyone thus why everyone protects him

inspo

this fic has been in my drafts since paraluman and has been posted before (just the series m.list) after literal years of contemplating and multiple crying sessions over wicked (2024) ,, i have reconstructed this fic into something i'm so excited to share with you .

this fic is a mix of wicked vibes, (the anime) gukuen alice, and literally the basic concepts of soulmates (invisible string theory, symptoms when separated from soulmate, etc) and of course !!! mullet jungkook .

to be honest, i'm kinda nervy lol. this is my first time writing a fantasy au and hope to bring all i have planned for this fic into life through the best fitting words and imagery (as you can tell,, i am very nervy as i am yapping thru this) nevertheless, i'm excited to challenge my writing and to mold it into something 10x more dramatic and romantic . i hope i paint the picture just right cos bad habit jk has been living in my mind for wayyy too long . to me, he is the perfect mix of tsundere and gut wrenching simp lol ...

the series will begin feburary 14, 2025 .

all the love,

kimi ♡

[the-balloon-shed]

imma be honest I want to make a fic of this one day but for right now you just get me running wild with this headcanon

you know how there's those videos of surgeons being "inspirational" to their interns and then saying the meanest shit in the world? yeah, I think that's Iceman as an instructor at TOPGUN. 

Just the dry, rough sense of humor? The perfectly attenuated phrase in order to knock the arrogance out of some of these scrappy pilots? That's Iceman. The evidence is there in TG86! it's ICE who is saying the most bratty shit to Maverick. His criticisms are almost always valid or born of a real curiosity that's worth looking into, which I think is key, but he expresses it in the rudest and most inciting way possible. 

"Who was covering Cougar while you were showboating --"; (in response to Slider's calling Goose and Mav "famous") "I think you mean notorious"; "I don't like you 'cause you're dangerous" -- I mean Ice is right but he's also a bitch. (we don't have time to unpack ALL of what went into Ice goading Maverick seconds after meeting him with "need help figuring it out? who's the best pilot?" like my god man). 

So, some contenders for some of the commentary Ice might have for his students -- 

"Keep flying like that, I'm going to assume you're getting kickbacks from the military hospital." 

"I can only hope one day you fly for the enemy." 

"I was thrilled to hear the Navy's policy initiative for accommodating more disabilities went into action this year, however, I do think they should reconsider sending me blind pilots." 

"Are you on your wingman's life insurance or something?" 

"What did I say about making the same mistake twice?" "At least tell you I've learned something?" "No. What I said is don't." 

"Resist the urge to help me."

"I'm not looking for the best you can do. I'm looking for the best, period. So if you can't do any better, I suggest trying to emulate somebody else who can." 

"Well, you're no Artful Dodger, but artless dodging kept you alive well enough this time, I suppose." (I think it would be funny if he incidentally gave this poor pilot the callsign Dodger because of this, or A.D. for Artless Dodger)

"Did the Academy change its curriculum? Emphasize the element of surprise?" "Um... why do you ask, sir?" "Because you fly like you've never been inside a plane before." 

And I think he might say this to a colleague trying to pull rank over him that he neither respects nor cares about:

"I've neither the time, nor the crayons, to explain this to you." 

I think Mav would be so annoyed, too. "why do I have the reputation for being hard to work with when you're going around saying the meanest crap to these kids?" 

All Ice would do is laugh. "Sounds like a personal problem." 

Not to say that Ice is an asshole without restraint. Hell, the Iceman is all about restraint. He doesn't kick people when they're down. He doesn't say cutting stuff like this to people who are genuinely trying and not being a showoff. This is to knock overly arrogant kids down a few pegs, not send people into a shame self-doubting spiral, and Ice is usually pretty damn good at walking that line. 

Like, I imagine one of the students not understanding something to do with the physics portions of their classes and so he goes to Ice super nervous about getting reamed, and Ice is very patient with him. When Mav comes in and starts talking to Ice about instructor stuff, the student goes "oh, I can come back later, you know I think I'm getting it!" out of fear of wasting Ice's time and Ice would chuckle and be like "no, you clearly don't get it, and that's fine. Easier to teach you on dry land as opposed to up in the air, so let's keep working through it. Long as Mav's not about to talk to me about anything confidential --" which Mav shakes his head no "--alright, then how about you sit right there and keep working at it until you get it, and you will get it. If you've got the time, I've got the time, so let's get it done," and the kid stays in the office and keeps working at it for hours, occasionally checking his work with Mav and Ice until, voila, he does actually get it and also has a whole new understanding of Ice. 

Or if, god forbid, anyone had an accident, Ice would be all over trying to help with that (and help Mav work through it too) and protecting the students from any fallout from the brass because fuck them, they don't know what it's like to be in the air anymore. 

I also think that before the TOPGUN class starts, Ice would find Mav checking on all the canopies of all the jets and, once Ice realized that was what Mav was doing, would spend the next several hours with him helping out and making sure everything was operating properly, even though engineering had already looked at them. Can never be too sure, and if it provides Mav peace of mind, then Ice will do it, no questions asked. 

And so, despite saying some of the rudest crap most of these students have ever heard, they all love him. They all respect the ever-living-crap out of him, and learn to find him actually just kind of funny. It'd be a lot harder to like him if he were wrong, but he's so rarely wrong that in the end even the ones who do get pissed off at him manage to calm down. Students, as they graduate and leave TOPGUN, would probably talk to other graduating classes when they meet them on deployments like "oh my god, what did he say to your class?" "he once said --" "I didn't find it funny then but now I laugh every time I think about it -- " "he helped me figure out how to do..." so on so forth. 

There are a couple of the brass that aren't amused, but I think that's where Mav would come into play in his own way. Because Ice is good at what he does, and Mav sure as hell wants him around, and so should everyone else. Ice is just also not afraid to be an asshole about being good -- which the last person this is news to is Maverick. 

Maverick's just the only one Ice has encountered who can give as good as he gets, which is why as instructors, they do a pretty damn good job working together to whip their classes into shape. It's just funny that never in a million years did Mav think he'd be the "good cop" in their good cop/bad cop instructor situation, but he's resigned himself to his fate all the same. 

[malereadermaniac]

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Triple moon - Percy Jackson x Male Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Plot: The demigod son of Poseidon falls for the demigod son of Hecate. Cool powers and romance; best of both worlds!

Note: I've never read or watched Percy Jackson & the Olympians!! I'm sorry if any characters are OOC! Also, age demographic of Camp Half-Blood has been made to be 14-20s so all characters are 18+

Warnings: m!reader (no genitalia mentioned) / FDNI Some nsfw mentions but no smut!

The moon. It was the one thing that you were most familiar with since you were a child. You never really knew why, but you knew that you had an affinity for it; it was as if you couldn't go a day without gazing at the celestial object or noticing it in the night sky. You did start to understand this innate connection you felt between you and the moon at around age 14; that was, of course, when you came into your demigod-hood. It started small. Dreams that would occur verbatim within the following week, almost like prophecies. If you wanted to know about someone or something, with enough cognitive effort the knowledge would just pop into your head, like some sort of divination. You found that certain phrases you spoke triggered a specific result as if you were casting spells. And what you especially noticed was that if the moon was shining its silver light, you felt alive; you felt as if you were breathing for the first time, as if blood flowed through your body for the first time in months. As soon as you informed your father of these strange quirks, he shipped you off to Camp Half-Blood as soon as he possibly could. Don't get him wrong! It wasn't because of any nefarious reasons, but your father knew that he couldn't help you truly comprehend your powers.

It felt rushed. Before you knew it, you were lodging with your half-siblings! That was something you definitely had to get accustomed to. But once you settled in at camp, you fit right in! Very quickly, you became quite popular. Cabin 20 had always been quite renowned; the descendants of Hecate were unique compared to the other demigods at camp. After all, whilst other campers had more specific powers, the children of Hecate inherited magic, sorcery, and witchcraft; if you trained enough, you could do almost anything. It almost felt unfair, you could theoretically have infinite abilities whilst other campers were stuck with one. But again, this unique ability of those in Cabin 20 led to the members being well-liked; rather than hated for winning the genetic lottery.

As time passed, you grew and your powers matured. You gave tarot and palm readings to your friends every new moon to inform them of what to expect in the coming month. You had memorised chant after chant and filled at least five notebooks with your spells. Potion brewing became second nature. And after training with other cabins, you even had some control over the elements. It was during your training with the elemental cabins that you made some of your closest friends. Amongst your closest friends was Percy Jackson. Everyone knew Percy; the energetic, brave, and most of all, caring, son of Poseidon. You often trained with him, honing your water manipulation and learning from the literal demigod of the sea. But you two became close friends very quickly outside of any sort of training.

'Very close friends' was how you two described your relationship, but to anyone with eyes, it was clear as day that there were some unspoken feelings between you and the ravenette. It was the way that Percy watched you fiddle with mana between your fingers when you got nervous; nothing but fascination and admiration in his emerald-like eyes. It was the way that you tended to any wound Percy had suffered from after some perilous battle or event, no matter how small the wound you felt that it deserved your utmost attention and magical healing. It was the way that Percy would stutter and blush when talking to you before forcing himself to regain his composure. Really, Percy couldn't be any more obvious with his feelings for you! And you couldn't deny how much you liked him; the man was so loyal to you and so caring! Seriously, if the son of Poseidon heard the smallest comment made about you, he would jump at the opportunity to defend you profusely. You could never bring yourself to try and talk about your relationship with Percy, though. You didn't wanna ruin things! It wasn't until all your friends practically forced you and Percy to talk, that your relationship actually went anywhere...

Percy wanted more than anything to tell you how he felt. How you made his heart flutter. How he couldn't get you out of his head. But despite being brave by nature, the son of Poseidon just couldn't. Not without a little help that is. Annabeth and Nico literally masterminded a plan that resulted in Percy and you being locked inside an empty cabin; some cryptic riddle your only clue to escaping. 'To be let out, you must do 600 push-ups. Or Percy can grow a pair - either or!' You were extremely confused. Percy on the other hand knew what your friends were on about; after all, the two demigods would constantly tease Percy about his crush on you and tell him to 'grow a pair' and confess already. And he did just that. Percy grew a pair and told you how he felt about you; there wasn't really any other choice! Your slightly shocked face and light blush terrified the man, but he kept going. Through the mess of compliments and weird metaphors, you got the message. And that was it. The two of you were official! Percy really had nothing to worry about; you reciprocated his feelings almost immediately!

Boyfriend Percy Headcanons ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

This man worships the ground you walk on. Percy is literally the embodiment of 'I love my boyfriend'. He'll compliment you constantly, and he won't shut up about how great and hot and powerful you are to anyone who'll listen.

Your friends tease the two of you all the time. Annabeth and Nico of course never shut up about how they're the only reason the two of you are even dating. But your other friends also take every opportunity to tease how whipped you and Percy are for each other! Thalia will constantly tell the two of you to get a room when you're gettin' a bit too comfortable with the PDA, Piper's very supportive of you two but will always make fake kissing noises when you so much as give Percy a peck, oh and Leo and Jason constantly jokingly mock how you and Percy lovingly hold each other or look into each other's eyes.

Percy is kinda enamoured with your magic. Like bro nerds out on it more than you do. Percy will watch you play with mana, he'll listen to you cast spells, he'll go out with you to collect moon water, and he'll constantly gift you crystals or potion materials.

Intimacy with Percy was slow to start; neither of you wanted to push the other too far. But after your first time, trust and believe that anytime you and Percy get some alone time in a secluded area, oh you two are making out until you have to physically pry yourselves off of each other!

Oh I actually give up with this fic. Get it out of my sight. Now. -_-

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google’s new phones can’t stop phoning home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*pronounced "jass-lighting"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://calyxinstitute.org/

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

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

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/08/water-thats-not-wet/#pixelated

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

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

[p0orbaby]

More Than Friends

summary: just two oblivious softies

warnings: none!

a/n: inspired by this request !

word count: 1.6k

-

You’ve known Leah for years. You’ve been through it all—school, youth academy, the awkward phase of realising you’re both gay and your parents’ tragic attempts to understand what that meant.

If anyone asks, Leah’s your best friend. You hang out all the time, have a weekly standing breakfast date at some overpriced organic café because Leah insists their smoothies are life-changing, and, on more than one occasion, you’ve been caught having full-on wrestling matches on the living room rug when someone makes the mistake of putting on a reality show with a competitive element.

The Chase, we’re looking at you!

But you’re just friends. Sure, Leah looks at you like you’ve sewn every star in the sky just for her, and yeah, you’ve caught yourself wondering what it would be like if she ever kissed you, but you’re both practical, reasonable adults. If there was something more between you, you’d know by now. You’re practically soulmates, but the platonic kind. The kind that talk about who they’d date if they ever started dating again. Which you’re not, because you’re both “too busy” with your own lives and “not really looking for anyone right now.”

It’s funny, though. Everyone else seems to have a different opinion. Your mutual friends, like that time Laura came over for a movie night and blatantly refused to sit between you and Leah on the sofa, claiming, “I’m not going to be the third wheel in whatever the hell is going on here.” Or when Beth invited you both to her birthday party but refused to put you on the seating chart together because, as she said, “It’s not a double date, guys”

To which you responded with a classic, “Who, us? We’re just friends!”

You don’t see what the big deal is. Leah texts you constantly, and sure, she sometimes insists on picking out your clothes before you go anywhere because “You need to stop wearing those same jeans every time we go out.” You just think it’s because Leah’s a bit of a control freak, which you’ve told her multiple times. Her rebuttal? “You just have no taste”

No taste? You’ve got plenty of taste, actually. Leah’s always complimenting you, too, which really doesn’t help her argument. Last week, when you wore that new jacket she made you buy, she practically wolf-whistled in the middle of the bar. “Looking good, babe,” she’d said, and you rolled your eyes so hard you almost lost contact with reality.

“Please, Williamson, contain yourself,” you’d muttered, but you couldn’t hide the grin on your face.

And then there’s the flirting. At least, what your friends call flirting.

To you, it’s just banter. You’re naturally a bit cheeky, and Leah can give as good as she gets. Like the time you told her she looked particularly dashing in her new suit, and she leaned in close, eyes locked on yours, and whispered, “If you think I’m dashing now, wait until you see me without it”

You sputtered something unintelligible, but it was fine because Leah just laughed and punched your arm, hard enough that you felt it for the next two hours. Flirting? That’s not flirting, that’s just classic Leah.

Sure, sometimes the banter takes a turn that even you can’t quite explain. Like when you two were at that men’s match, and during halftime, when they were playing that cheesy love song over the stadium speakers, Leah turned to you with a smirk and said, “This is our song”

“Our song?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” she said, leaning back in her seat, arms crossed like she just made a killer play, “You know, if we were like, one of those couples”

You laughed, because of course that’s funny, right? Leah, your best mate, who’s currently watching you with this mischievous glint in her eye, almost like she’s daring you to challenge her. “You’re so silly,” you said, throwing a handful of popcorn at her. She just winked and said, “That’s why you love me”

Right. That’s why you love her. Like a friend. Like a really good friend who also looks great in every lighting, and who you’d fight a pack of wolves for if the situation ever arose. You’ve actually had that discussion—a hypothetical about how many wolves it would take before one of you chickened out. Leah’s confident she could take on at least five, maybe six if they’re “not like, super rabid or anything”

You told her she’s delusional, and then she offered to demonstrate how she’d do it. So there you were, in the middle of your kitchen, Leah making slow-motion karate chops and what she called “strategic” growling noises, while you struggled to keep a straight face and actually managed to look concerned when she said, “You think I couldn’t handle a wolf? I’d rip its head off, and I’d do it for you”

You didn’t tell her that’s probably the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to you. Because it’s not romantic, it’s just Leah. And that’s why you love her.

-

“Stop saying that,” Katie groans one night when you’re all out for drinks and Leah’s leaning on you in that way she does when she’s too tired to keep her head up. It’s a good thing Leah’s more of a lightweight than you because the last thing you need is her realising she’s practically snuggling into your side like an oversized cat.

“Saying what?” you ask, but you already know. You just want to make her spell it out.

“That you’re just friends,” she says, exasperated, like she’s said this a hundred times, which she probably has. “You two act like you’re married, and you don’t even acknowledge it”

Leah makes a noncommittal noise, half-asleep against your shoulder. “We’d make a cute couple, though, wouldn’t we?”

“Totally,” Katie says, deadpan, staring at you with raised eyebrows like she’s trying to telepathically scream at you to get a grip.

“We would,” you agree, patting Leah’s head because that’s what friends do. “But we’re not”

Katie just sighs, long and loud, and mutters something about denial.

Leah’s not helping. She keeps doing things that make your heart beat a little faster, like that time she grabbed your hand to cross the street and didn’t let go until well after you were on the other side. Or when she showed up at your place at 2 in the morning with your favorite snacks because you’d mentioned in passing that you were having a bad day. You’d called her an idiot for driving in the middle of the night just for you, and she just grinned and said, “Well, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“You’re not my girlfriend,” you corrected her.

“Right,” she said, smirking like she knew something you didn’t, “I’m not”

If you weren’t so oblivious, you might think she’s trying to tell you something. But you are, so you don’t. Instead, you two carry on as usual—bickering like an old married couple, sharing clothes, pretending that the lingering touches and inside jokes are all part of the package deal that comes with being best friends.

Because that’s all it is. Just friends. Nothing more.

Nothing more until the day you catch Leah staring at you during one of your movie nights. You’re halfway through a rom-com, the kind you both pretend to hate but secretly love, and you glance over to see her looking at you with an expression that you’ve never quite seen before. It’s soft, like she’s memorising your face, and there’s something in her eyes that makes your stomach flip.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious, because Leah’s never looked at you like that before.

“Nothing,” she says, but she doesn’t look away, and now your heart’s doing that stupid thing where it speeds up like you’ve just run a mile.

And maybe, just maybe, you start to wonder if everyone else might be onto something.

[reveryfics]

Movie Night

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Summary: You and Clark started dating after you discovered his Superman identity, but even superheroes aren't excused from movie night.

A/N: I need more Clark Kent guys. Which means, because I am so painfully single Clark has to watch twilight with the reader now. This can also be read as a follow up to my first fic with him (secret Identity), but not at all directly a part 2.

TW: Fluff

You smiled to yourself, a warmth spreading through your chest as you recalled the evening almost four months ago. It hadn't been long since the truth of Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter, and Superman, the Man of Steel, had been unveiled to you. The revelation itself had been a whirlwind, a dizzying mix of shock, awe, and a profound sense of understanding. Yet, the moment he finally managed to ask you out, it wasn't with a booming heroic declaration or a confident, charming line. Instead, he was the same stuttering, awkward mess of feelings you'd known and loved for years, fumbling over his words, his cheeks a delightful shade of crimson as he confessed his hopes for a romantic future together. It was endearing, and so perfectly Clark.

In all honesty, the transition from childhood friends to boyfriends hadn't drastically altered the comfortable rhythm of your lives. Sure, there were now occasional, stolen kisses that sent shivers down your spine, and the knowing glances from Lois Lane and the good-natured teasing from Jimmy Olsen about Clark "hanging around that photographer guy too much lately." But Clark didn't seem to mind the office banter. He reveled in this newfound openness, in finally being able to shed the carefully constructed facades. With you, he could articulate everything that was on his mind without the constant pressure of guarding his extraterrestrial origins or the deeply ingrained fact that he was hopelessly in love with you.

And gods, did you love every second of it. You adored the absolute dork that he was, the way his eyes would light up when he talked about obscure scientific facts or the latest agricultural advancements. You found it endlessly amusing how he’d “anonymously” tip you off, providing just enough information to ensure you were in the perfect spot to capture the best pictures of Superman, all simply so he could see you in your element, camera in hand, chasing the perfect shot. Your love for Clark wasn't separate from your love for Kal-El; they were inextricably intertwined. It was a beautiful, albeit still new and wonderfully awkward, dance you were learning together.

One non-negotiable condition you'd laid down the moment the "Superman" truth bomb had dropped wasn't about his safety. You knew that was a promise he couldn't realistically keep, not with the weight of the world on his shoulders. No, your demand was far simpler, yet just as crucial: just because he was a superhero didn't mean he got to miss movie nights. Clark had taken that promise to heart, upholding it with a dedication usually reserved for saving the planet. He might be occasionally late, sometimes by a mere few minutes, other times by what felt like an hour. But even then, he'd arrive, a whirlwind of nervous energy, stumbling through a million excuses why he was delayed, his earnest apologies punctuated by the offering of your favorite snacks or a takeout bag from your preferred restaurant. You never truly cared about the excuses or the lateness, though; his presence was always enough.

Tonight was shaping up to be one of those classic evenings. A perfectly relaxing Saturday night stretched before you, dedicated to a planned movie marathon. Or, to be more accurate, you had informed Clark that you were watching the entire Twilight saga, and he, bless his heart, had known better than to argue. The setup was complete. The couch was transformed into a haven of comfort, covered with your softest, coziest blanket. The lights were dimmed to a soft, inviting orange glow, casting a warm ambiance over the living room. Bowls of popcorn and an assortment of your favorite snacks were meticulously arranged on the coffee table. You'd even popped the first DVD into the player. And, for good measure, you'd changed into a ridiculously oversized shirt of Clark's – the worn cotton smelled faintly of him – paired with those fuzzy Superman pajama pants you'd bought purely for the joy of seeing his delighted smile. Everything was ready.

Everything, that is, except for Clark.

As the minutes stretched on, the initial anticipation began to mix with a familiar knot of worry in your stomach. You always worried, especially when he didn't send a quick text letting you know he was running behind. But even amidst the concern, a deeper, comforting certainty settled over you. Clark would be okay. He always was. He always came back to you.

You'd eventually given up on waiting by the door, the first Twilight movie now paused at the opening credits. Instead, you were sprawled across the blanket-laden couch, the bowl of popcorn resting on your stomach as you scrolled idly through your phone. It was nearly an hour past Clark's expected arrival, and the text you'd sent earlier, a simple "Hey, dork, where are you?", remained stubbornly unread. The knot of worry had tightened a bit, but it was overshadowed by a growing exasperation. You were just about to abandon your cozy nest and march onto your apartment balcony, ready to cup your hands around your mouth and yell his name into the night, confident that wherever he was, no matter the distance, he'd hear you.

That's when you heard it—a soft, familiar knock on your front door, followed almost immediately by the gentle creak of it opening and then clicking shut. Your head snapped up, a wide smile instantly blossoming on your face. Peeking over the back of the couch, you caught sight of his broad back. His dark curls were plastered wet against the collar of his shirt, a sure sign of a hasty, high-speed journey. And, of course, clutched in one hand was a paper bag from your favorite Chinese takeout place, the universal Clark-is-late-and-sorry offering.

He turned then, a sheepish grin spreading across his face, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Hey, I am so, so sorry, I got a little...detained," Clark began, his voice a low rumble. He gestured vaguely with the takeout bag, which you could now smell – your favorite General Tso's chicken, without a doubt. "Traffic was, uh, particularly bad tonight. And then, well, you know how it is. Just one thing after another."

You pushed yourself up from the couch, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Traffic, huh? In the sky, too?" you teased, knowing full well his "traffic" usually involved saving someone from a burning building or preventing a runaway train. You crossed your arms, feigning annoyance, though your heart swelled with affection. "And here I was, about to channel my inner Lois Lane and yell your name from the balcony. You know, for old times' sake."

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "You wouldn't dare." He stepped further into the apartment, the subtle scent of ozone and something faintly metallic, a tell-tale sign of a recent super-exertion, clinging to him despite his fresh-from-the-shower look. "Besides," he added, holding up the takeout bag with a flourish, "I come bearing peace offerings. And I brought your favorite, because I know you're probably starving."

You finally broke into a full smile, walking over to him and playfully nudging his arm. "You always do. Come on, dork. The movie's paused, the popcorn's getting cold, and I'm ready to dive into some supernatural teen angst with you." You took the takeout bag from him, setting it on the counter, before turning back and wrapping your arms around his waist. You could feel the slight dampness of his shirt, and the comforting solidness of him. "Just glad you're here, Clark."

He exhaled softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. His chin rested on the top of your head, and you could feel the vibrations of his deep sigh. "Me too," he murmured, his voice laced with an undeniable tenderness. "Always."

You finally pulled away, your eyes scanning his face. "Go on, get changed," you urged, gesturing vaguely towards your bedroom where he kept a spare set of clothes. "You're all damp, and I don't want you catching a cold before our Twilight marathon." You playfully nudged him again, a warmth spreading through you at the mundane domesticity of the moment. Here he was, the most powerful being on the planet, and you were telling him to change out of wet clothes for a movie night. It was a delightful paradox.

Clark nodded, that sheepish grin still in place. "Right, right. Be back in a flash." He moved towards the bedroom, and you could almost hear the subtle whoosh of air as he sped up just slightly to get there quicker, a habit he'd never quite broken.

While he was gone, you started unpacking the takeout, the aroma of General Tso's and lo mein filling the kitchen. You grabbed plates and forks, setting them out on the coffee table beside the popcorn. By the time Clark reappeared, dressed in a comfortable, dry t-shirt and sweats that were definitely yours but somehow looked better on him, you had everything laid out.

He sat down next to you on the couch, pulling you close. "Okay, so what did I miss?" he asked, already reaching for a piece of popcorn.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling content. "Just the opening credits," you mumbled, a happy sigh escaping your lips. "But I've been waiting for you." You picked up the remote, pressing play, and the familiar, dramatic strains of the Twilight theme music filled the room.

The movie marathon progressed as expected. You found yourself humming along to the soundtrack, occasionally quoting lines, and Clark, despite his initial groans about "sparkly vampires," was surprisingly engaged. He'd offer witty, albeit slightly dorky, commentary on the plot holes, and sometimes, when he thought you weren't looking, you'd catch him watching the screen with an almost childlike curiosity. It was moments like these, quiet and unassuming, that you treasured the most.

As the second movie started, you shifted, snuggling deeper into his side. His arm was wrapped securely around you, and the gentle thrum of his heartbeat was a soothing rhythm against your ear. You felt utterly safe, completely at ease. It wasn't the thrill of being with Superman that brought you this peace, but the simple, profound comfort of being with Clark, your best friend, your boyfriend, the man who, despite his extraordinary life, always made time for mundane movie nights and bad traffic excuses.

Not even halfway through the third Twilight movie, the undeniable truth of the couch's inadequate size became glaringly obvious to Clark. With a soft grunt, he shifted, an awkward symphony of long limbs and careful adjustments as he somehow managed to stretch out, his broad shoulders pressed against the back cushions. His head, heavy with those dark, damp curls, found a surprisingly comfortable resting spot against your lap, his face turned up towards you.

You looked down at him, a fond smile spreading across your face. His eyes, even in the dim glow of the television screen, held a spark of gentle humor and a deep well of affection. The soft light of the movie flickered across his features, highlighting the gentle curve of his nose and the depth of his cheeks. He looked utterly content, a stark contrast to the world-saving hero he was mere hours ago.

"So," he began, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your thigh, "if I were, hypothetically speaking, a vampire in this universe, do you think you'd still love me?" A playful glint entered his eyes. "Even if I, you know, shined like a disco ball in a '70s nightclub every time the sun hit me?"

You snorted, a laugh bubbling up from your chest. "Clark Kent, are you genuinely asking me if I'd love you if you were a sparkly vampire?" You ran your fingers through his still-damp hair, gently untangling a few errant strands. "Honey, you're an alien who can fly and shoot lasers from his eyes. A little bit of disco-ball glitter wouldn't even register on the weirdness scale." You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Yes, you dork. I'd absolutely still love you."

You caught the playful glint in Clark's eyes, a familiar sparkle that immediately transported you back to childhood summers. It was the same look he’d get just moments before he'd tackle you into a mud puddle, or ambush you with a water balloon. You didn't even have a chance to voice a protest, much less mount a defense, before the world tilted.

In a swift, fluid motion that belied his earlier awkwardness, you were suddenly pinned beneath him on the couch, flat on your back, a laugh escaping your lips as he hovered slightly above you. His weight was carefully distributed, not crushing, but undeniably present, holding you playfully captive. His dark hair, still slightly damp, brushed against your cheek as he lowered his head, peppering soft, teasing kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Each touch sent a shiver through you, a delightful combination of tickles and warmth.

You giggled, your hands coming up to push at his shoulders, a futile attempt against his strength. "Clark! Stop it! I'm going to spill the popcorn!" you protested weakly, but your laughter betrayed your true enjoyment. His lips lingered for a moment by your pulse point, a warm press that made your heart quicken, before he resumed his playful assault. Even though you knew it was all in jest, the sheer, effortless power behind his movements was undeniable. You tried to shove him again, but he merely chuckled, a low, rumbling sound in his chest, completely unmovable. You were utterly at his mercy, and frankly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

You eventually managed to wiggle one hand free, reaching up to playfully ruffle his damp hair, tangling your fingers in the soft curls. "Okay, okay, truce!" you declared, still laughing. "Or else no more Twilight for you, Mister!"

He froze, his head lifting slightly, eyes wide with mock horror. "No more Twilight?" he repeated, a dramatic gasp escaping him. "You wouldn't dare. You know how invested I am in whether Bella will choose the brooding vampire or the shirtless werewolf now."

You both burst into laughter, the comfortable sound filling the living room. He finally relented, pushing himself up just enough to relieve the pressure, though he still remained close, his face hovering just inches from yours. His blue eyes, sparkling in the dim light, searched yours, full of an unspoken tenderness that made your heart ache in the best possible way.

"You're ridiculous, Clark Kent," you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight stubble beneath your palm.

He leaned into your touch, his gaze softening. "Only for you," he murmured, his voice a low, sincere rumble. And then, slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head, pressing his lips against yours.

It was a soft kiss at first, gentle and reassuring, a silent promise. Then it deepened, a warmth spreading through you, chasing away any lingering worry from his late arrival. It was a kiss that spoke of shared histories, of comfortable silences, and of a future unfolding. When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, a soft smile gracing your lips.

"Now," you said, patting his arm, "get back to your spot. The fate of Forks, Washington, hangs in the balance."

Clark grinned, a genuine, joyful expression that always made your stomach flutter. He shifted, pulling you close against his side as he settled back into his comfortable, albeit slightly oversized, space on the couch. You leaned your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping securely around you. The movie played on, the drama of Bella's choices unfolding on screen, but your attention was less on the vampires and werewolves and more on the warmth radiating from the man beside you.

This was your life now, intertwined with a superhero who loved bad movies and soft blankets, and who would always, always come back to you, even if he had to save the world first. And as you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your back, you knew you wouldn't have it any other way.