#Big Shell Platform

[hardcoregamer]

Some locations in video games are instantly recognizable, not just by the fans of the game, but even by people who haven’t played the title. The most iconic of these locations have been instilled in the video gaming industry until the end of time and even non-gamers can recognize them.

[2tarbell]

one order for a vanilla birthday cake pleaseee!

kook!reader texting rafe “what position have you got her in?” when he takes too long to respond to a text

happy birthday, angel 💓

BSF!RAFE + KOOK!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

manicured pink nails tapped impatiently on the restaurant table. eyes glued to the bedazzled device with a glittery pout adorning her lips. this was so unfair. rafe would have a fucking conniption if she even thought about not texting him back. and now it’s been… seven fucking minutes? yeah, right.

the last time she left him on delivered for two minutes he was blowing her phone up and all grumbly the rest of the week, pounding her into oblivion for playing games. dont get her wrong; she loved it. being fucked within an inch of her life was her favorite pastime.

but now? rafe cameron was like the worst hypocrite known to man.

‘what position u got her in?’

‘Be so fr’

it brought a smile to her pretty face seeing his sassy reply. with a satisfied huff, she set her phone face down on the table. why not make him sweat? picking up her long island iced tea with a devious grin, she was right back into the conversation with her girls.

the table was alight with giggles and gossip — the pack of kook girls enjoying lunch together after before hitting the beach.

it was supposed to be an easy day, a break from all the confusion and feelings still swirling around princess and her tall, handsome “best friend”. and she desperately needed that. needed some semblance of normalcy before shit took off and everything on the island changed when the two most hated and loved rich kids finally get together.

so she didn’t even flinch when her phone vibrated once, twice, thrice. she only excused herself from the conversation with a smile when her phone buzzed in a rhythmic pattern — a phone call. bubbles of giddy excitement filling her tummy as ‘rafey’ showed on the screen with a point five angled photo of him looking pissed.

“‘kay— be right back, girls!” she sang, already standing with her phone in hand.

“he finally called you, huh?” melodie, a beautiful brunette in a lilac bikini top teased. the table giggled, all looking at princess and feeling a rush of girlish excitement.

“get your man, baby!” another girl, aliyah, borderline squealed.

princess flushed, feeling her body heat up at the prospect of rafe being ‘her man’. god, imagine! she waved them off embarrassedly, teetering away on her platform flip flops, pleasantly tipsy as she leans against the outside wall of the restaurant.

“hellooooo?”

her voice was sugary sweet into the phone, looking down at her nails and checking the polish for any chips. the warm timbre of rafe cameron’s voice rumbled through the speaker, directly pressed into her ear. she found herself wishing to feel his lips moving around the words and against the shell of her ear.

“you’re somethin’ else, dollface.” he mumbled and she could hear the smirk on his lips.

“aw, you didn’t say ‘hi’, rafe…” she pouted, biting back a laugh at the sound of his heavy sigh on the other end.

“hi. you’re somethin’ else.”

“hiii. why’s that?”

his laugh came through the speaker, all deep and settling into her bones like it always does. she hears the tick, tick of his blinker, meaning he’s driving somewhere in that big truck of his.

princess looks around at the marina, taking the sight of obx residents enjoying the still warm, early fall weather. hot enough to take a dip without the water being freezing yet. rafe continued on as she flitted her gaze around the area.

he ignored her question, instead asking his own.

“checked your location. you tipsy right now?”

a giggle escaped her glossy lips, head lolling slightly, “mmm, maybe… why?”

“go back in and pay. sent you one fifty.”

she froze, pulling the phone from her ear and seeing an apple pay notification. he always did this. not like she could just use her dad’s card or anything.

“rafe cameron—“

he cut her off, hanging up after and not letting her protest, “hey— pay and then come back out. know i’ll let ‘chu make it up to me, a’ight?”

it was like a reverse walk of shame — explaining to her friends why she was leaving early and why she was covering the whole tab. walking back out with her purse on her arm as the familiar rumble of his truck approached, petulant in the way her arms were crossed. he pulled up right before her, rolling down the passenger window and smiling in that frustratingly charming way. dickhead.

she hung up with a guffaw, not believing he actually showed up when she was hanging with her friends. the possessive gesture makes her heart jump then fall. very boyfriend of him.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“oh, that’s how you talk to someone who just paid for your lunch? get in.”

she scoffed, amused at his gall. even more so at the fact she listened — shoes clacking against the pavement. rafe leaned over the console, opening the door for her. he looks good and smells better. that cologne she bought him for his birthday last year that he seems to be wearing a lot recently. an intoxicating smell that makes her feel drunker.

a plaid button up, rolled up to the elbow and exposing strong, veiny arms causes her mind to wander as he leans closer to her.

“hey, gorgeous,” that low drawl sends goosebumps over her body, paired with a half smile that’s so pretty.

comfortable in the seat she’s become so familiar with, he closes the gap between them. giving her a kiss so casual and natural, it makes her fluffy lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transfered on his mouth that he doesn’t even wipe away.

she’s even more confused when flowers are thrusted into her arms. princess blinks at him like a fish — feeling a warmth settle in her chest at the sight of her favorite blooms wrapped haphazardly in brown paper.

“they, uh— they were in this ugly fuckin’ plastic. know you hate that so… yeah,” rafe shrugs it off as he pulls out of the parking lot.

princess decides this is technically a kidnapping. especially because she’s never been more confused and lost in her life.

he leans back in the seat, driving with one hand lazily, confidently. a glimpse of blue eyes at her and she’s smiling wildly, bringing the flowers to her nose to smell them. princess leans over and kisses his cheek, feeling drunker on the moment and smell of his skin.

“i— thank you, rafey…”

rafe takes notice of how small her voice is, how vulnerable. he nods, switching hands to rest one on her leg. large, warm palm soothing her and pulling her out of her mind before she can even begin to cause herself to spiral.

he clears his throat, squeezing the plush, smooth skin of her thigh, “cowgirl.”

her furrowed brow is adorable. looking up from the bouquet in her lap and over at him in question. there’s a drunken slowness to her, a haze. he hums and pushes his hand higher — marking a mental note of how easily her legs spread to make room for him.

“that’s what position imma have you in.”

[anaktoria-of-the-moon]

At work plagued by thoughts of a mech bigger than you can imagine.

She starts like most of them do, a Titan excavator rig modestly sized for their line: maybe a house or thereabouts, a big house. (Doesn’t matter why she signed up - perhaps a breadwinner, a lone mother or eldest sister, a daughter of aging parents nobody else will take; doesn’t matter what site they sent her to, Earth or Enceladus or Venus or Europa. She’s there, and she lets them strap her in and adapt her for the piloting interface and pump her full of protein ooze and electrolytes and hyperstimulant cocktails as obediently as the next laborer.)

Upgrades come, from big house to bigger, with shovels like hillsides and treads like highways. Still she remains in the cockpit, out only for one day every six months to say hello to her burgeoning family, who have moved nearby to make it easy on her, to meet the baby nephews and nieces whose names she doesn’t yet know.

War comes. The facility hunkers down. It just makes sense to retrofit their biggest digger with shields, to expand her arsenal a little more, give her a better engine, pour all their leftover resources into making her a great guardian, and she rises to the occasion, shielding them from orbital rays, absorbing the energy and taking the pain of it up into her own engines. When the corporate rats who own the site finally turn tail and run the workers and their families band together and do the needful repairs themselves. Her nieces and nephews grow up learning engineering by the light of oil lamps from stolen Old Era textbooks and jailbroken datapads. She hardly ever now glimpses their faces with her own two eyes from within her steel shell but it is a worthy sacrifice to her, to them, for both parties know she is still there, still with them, embracing them in a great steel hug and watching through a thousand glass-lensed eyes.

Years pass. The brightest of her nieces works out how to modify the nutrition cocktail going into her cockpit so she will never age, never die, never fall sick. Somewhere in there all the metal and ceramic encloses her ever-sleeping body like a lotus flower around the benevolent, immortal form of a bodhisattva.

The outpost survives the war, somehow. Refugees hear of the little town on the colony that could, guarded by a goddess the size of a temple, and flock there. It makes sense to add to her control, among her array of sensors and actuators, the new city’s power generation and delivery system, its wall defenses, its waste management, its communications mains. Nowhere is anything safer than with her.

With all these new additions come techs and custodians to keep her in good care. They build modest crew cabins nestled amongst her treads (now rusty from disuse) so they can be close to her, the better to help her.

Slowly more and more falls under her purview, new cabins, then mezzanines and stairways and platforms between them; each generation has their own superstitions that they add to those of the last before them, so paintings crop up on her metal panels now, in nooks and crannies, often crude symbols that promise good oil changes or swift code updates, or simply depictions of their goddess, of the war she survived. Still she watches.

Her nieces and nephews are all dead now, and their nieces and nephews look on through rheumed eyes as the city attains new heights, heralded everywhere on every planet that still lives as an oasis of peace and prosperity. Still she watches.

A new company comes, enticed by the stories. They want to buy her. Buy her! The people scoff. As if you could just buy a person! - A person? asks the representative from Acher Spaceways, perplexed. - We heard she was your goddess.

She is both, of course, the goddess who lives, the goddess who is one hundred percent flesh and one hundred percent machine.

Acher doesn’t like this. They send machines - zero percent flesh, entirely drones - screaming down from the stars for a more insistent negotiation, one phrased in metal slugs and incendiary fire.

So your goddess rises up to meet them.

It is over in a short day. The drones lie in pieces; Acher, from orbit, licks their wounds, and the goddess rebukes them with a single laser blast, modified from her very first mining waymaker photonic drill.

The blast is precise and surgical. It tears apart the whole platform, spinning central axis to annular habitat space, which supernovas into a blossom of shining proof in the night sky at which the citizens below cheer.

But the pieces are falling, and soon they will pepper the surface below with molten debris, kick up dust into the atmosphere and make it all but unbreathable. The people could leave, the goddess advises them through short-wave radio bursts. They could use her emergency shuttles to escape gravity before it is too late, or they could go underground and salvage her rarest and most precious resources to survive until the surface is safe again.

Here is the thing - every pilot is augmented, and most augments are for the benefit of the plainly physical, for strength and speed and stamina and sharpness of perception. When her people augmented her, they augmented something else entirely. With every new module, every sensor upgrade, every painted symbol and hidden shrine, they gave her a superhuman capacity not for stamina or speed or strength, but for love.

It is her love that saved them, so they must save her back.

For two days they work tirelessly, the whole city, while above them the shattered pieces of Acher Spaceways looms ever closer. When they are done the treads are gone, the cabins dismantled, only the little drawings carefully preserved under coats of abrasion- and heat-resistant paint. And under her, their city, their Haven, lie rockets, ten of them, repurposed from the old all-ore crucibles, fit to move an asteroid.

She’s out there somewhere by Orion now, they say, the fourth jewel in his belt. And she has only grown: from three thousand then to three hundred million. Creatures from all over come to pay her their respects, or to visit lovers, or to live there themselves. There is always room in a body that is ever expanding, like the cosmos itself. Over all of them, she watches, eternal.

Among all the stories they tell of her, they repeat this one the most - how she tore apart a whole space station for the sake of her people, knowing she would die if she failed, for how can a whole city hope to flee? She guards them, and in turn they do not abandon her. They are two halves of the same whole, they say reverently, love manifest - the people and their city; this pilot, this great machine. This Haven.

[its-opheliasgarden]

rainy day ent. | build interlude

are you an aspiring tech guru with big ideas and maybe even bigger caffeine tolerance? then you've come to the right place. rainy day is the next-gen startup shaping the future of digital connection. from our sleek cloud service drizzle, to our flagship platform social bunny, and newly acquired cupid’s corner, our mission is single-minded: enhance your simulated experience (whatever that means—we're still workshopping it). whether you’re into algorithm-built love, monetized friendships, or a doomscrolling haven—find connection in the chaos. sound like your kind of storm? let’s form and storm together. ☁️

credits: you can find original shell on gallery (theinsims), which was renovated into a 'tech company' by clush2005, which i used as base.

nova post are coming soon! honestly i've been focused on building for the last two weeks and having fun building out the lore of the company since it's a 'big character' in the story. so far i've got dirk dreamer as ceo because yes, it's canon now...thinking there's some kind of big acquisition with cupid's corner that still underway...don't know if i'm committed to that storyline yet...

BUT fr i had so much fun getting inspo from tech/start up companies for interior design! i was able to stretch myself and not use too much cc. really like how it turned out so far...i even made my own cc recolors which turned out pretty good imo...so proud of the whiteboard marker on the glass windows <3

-d.

[reality-detective]

BREAKING: TRUMP & ELON MUSK EXPOSE THE BIGGEST SCANDAL IN U.S. HISTORY! BILLIONS STOLEN, MEDIA BOUGHT, DEEP STATE PANICKING. TOO BIG, TOO DIRTY—NO ONE ESCAPES! READ NOW BEFORE IT’S CENSORED!

February 6, 2025 – Buckle up, America! President Trump and Elon Musk just tore the mask off a scandal so massive, it could shake the entire system. Billions of taxpayer dollars funneled into the media, Deep State operatives caught red-handed, and corruption so deep it makes Watergate look like child’s play.

BILLIONS STOLEN—WHERE DID IT GO?

Trump just revealed explosive evidence that USAID and other agencies have been secretly funneling money to the media—NOT for news, but for propaganda. The mission? To control the narrative, suppress the truth, and keep the American people in the dark.

Trump’s own words:

“LOOKS LIKE BILLIONS OF DOLLARS HAVE BEEN STOLEN AT USAID, AND OTHER AGENCIES, MUCH OF IT GOING TO THE FAKE NEWS MEDIA AS A ‘PAYOFF’ FOR CREATING GOOD STORIES ABOUT THE DEMOCRATS. THE DEMOCRATS CAN’T HIDE FROM THIS ONE. TOO BIG, TOO DIRTY!”

$8 MILLION to Politico. How much to CNN? MSNBC? The New York Times? The numbers are only beginning to surface. But one thing is clear—this is the biggest political heist in American history.

THE GLOBAL CORRUPTION NETWORK EXPOSED!

This goes beyond the U.S. Deep State. Reports suggest that this web of corruption extends across borders, involving foreign governments, tech giants, and corporate elites.

Media payoffs—Journalists bribed to push pro-Democrat narratives.

Big Tech censorship—Social media platforms silencing dissent while raking in government money.

Political elites enriched—Secret funds funneled to career politicians to keep them loyal.

Trillions missing—Dark money flowing through shell companies and fake NGOs.

ELON MUSK: “THE PEOPLE DESERVE THE TRUTH!”

Musk isn’t holding back. As the last bastion of free speech, he’s making sure the truth is heard.

“The people deserve the truth. No more lies. No more cover-ups. Transparency wins.”

THE DEEP STATE IS PANICKING!

Mainstream media is silent—proof they’re scrambling behind the scenes. Congress must act NOW.

Who else got paid? Who will be held accountable? The people demand JUSTICE!

FINAL WARNING TO THE ELITES: YOUR TIME IS UP!

The swamp is being drained.

Trump is back.

Musk is exposing everything.

The people are awake.

No more hiding.

No one escapes this storm. 🤔

[dollyswishingwell]

GIRL PLS I'M A BIG FAN OF YOUR FANFIC, THEY'RE SO CUTE I'M SO OBSESSED 😩😩 thank you for your service!😋🥰 but can you please write the same scenario as mama's princess pt 5 but with boys? if you don't want to it's totally okay! thanks in advance girly! 😽💗💖

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Mama’s Prince P.2

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff, adorable, lmk if you guys have more requests for mamas prince cause mamas princess is atleast at like part 13 lol

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ Your babyboy’s ready to defend mama at all cost

Masterlist

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The children’s gallery opening was meant to be a soft launch for your son’s first official art show, a pastel-filled space brimming with tiny easels, velvet cupcakes, and his watercolor paintings of shells, fish, and dreamy undersea castles (most of which featured a “mama mermaid” in the center).

Rafayel spared no expense.

The entire exhibit was sponsored by his studio. The invite list had been personally filtered. You were in Secret Honey lace and platform heels, sat on a tufted bench with your son in your lap, while he proudly clutched a mini plastic paintbrush like a scepter.

He looked just like his daddy.

Purple waves brushing his cheeks. Pale lashes. Big, serious, blue-pink eyes staring down every adult who dared enter the room like they were a threat to your peace.

And then, of course, someone slipped through.

A woman from the city’s creative committee, tall and overly perfumed, leaned in too close to where you sat and cooed, “Oh, he’s so talented for his age! Must’ve inherited it from daddy’s side, hm?”

She laughed lightly, eyes flicking toward you. “Not to be rude, dear, but you don’t really strike me as the artistic type. You’re more like, um… decoration?”

She probably meant it as a joke.

But your smile faltered. Just slightly.

Before you could even respond,

Before Rafayel could step out from behind the display he was adjusting,

Your son turned around in your lap and glared at the woman like a royal insult had just been issued.

And then, in a voice that was eerily calm:

“Don’t talk to my mama like that.”

A pause. A chill.

Then he turned his head slightly, nose tilted up with perfect Rafayel-level disdain, and added:

“You’re not even invited.”

The room went still.

The woman blinked. “E–Excuse me?”

Your little boy didn’t flinch.

“You’re not on the list. My daddy said only nice people can come.”

And then Rafayel appeared, silent behind the woman.

A sweet smile on his face. Icy fingers grazing her wrist as he plucked the untouched champagne glass from her hand.

“Oh? You aren’t on the list, are you? How strange. You’ll leave now, won’t you? Before you embarrass yourself further.”

He turned to your son, ruffling his soft curls.

“Thank you for protecting mama, little moon.”

“She’s my mama,” your son muttered stubbornly. “Mine first.”

Rafayel chuckled lowly, kissed your temple.

“He’s right, you know,” he murmured, smiling against your skin. “Even I’m not allowed to upset mama. So what made her think she could get away with it?”

Needless to say,

The gallery staff escorted the woman out, and your son received a second cupcake for “excellent taste and judgment.” Rafayel carried you both home after the event, mumbling how lucky he was that his wife and son were perfect and terrifying, and how he wouldn’t want it any other way.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

The hospital’s pediatric ward was throwing a celebration, your son’s finger-painting had won first place in a fundraiser art contest, and the gala was to honor all the kids who participated.

Naturally, you were there in a pale pink sundress with matching heels. Your baby boy wore a tiny tailored vest and slacks, hair combed neatly just like Zayne’s, and clung to your side with a death grip on your hand.

He wasn’t smiling.

But he never really did, unless it was just you and Zayne.

Zayne had been called away briefly by a nurse, leaving you to mingle quietly with a few hospital board wives. The ones who smiled with their teeth and made passive-aggressive comments about “how lovely it is that you get to be a full-time wife now.”

And then one of them chuckled, sipping her champagne and gesturing toward you and your son.

“He’s adorable, I’ll give you that. I mean, no offense, but you clearly lucked out in the gene pool. Your husband’s got those sharp features, and the boy takes all after him, doesn’t he? Hopefully he gets his brains too.”

You didn’t react. Just gave a tight, neutral smile.

But your son’s head turned slowly.

He stared at the woman for a long, deadpan moment. Then,

“…She’s not just pretty.”

His voice was quiet, flat, serious.

The woman blinked, startled. “Oh, I didn’t mean,”

“She’s smarter than you.”

And then he tugged on your hand.

“Mama, let’s go. I don’t want to be near rude people. You can tell Daddy later.”

You can tell Daddy later.

That was a threat.

You were still recovering from the shock when Zayne returned, crouched down to straighten his son’s collar, and murmured, “Everything alright?”

Your little one leaned in and whispered exactly what the woman said.

Zayne’s face remained unreadable, except for the way his eyes locked onto her across the room, sharp and clinical like he was mentally dissecting her.

“…I see.”

She was asked to leave not long after. Something about “violating the event’s code of conduct.”

You sat down with your son on your lap, his arms looped around your waist as he buried his face into your chest like nothing had happened.

Zayne came back a few minutes later, smoothed your hair back, and murmured:

“I heard what he said. You raised him well.”

“You helped raise him,” you whispered, touched.

“…I never said I was talking to you.”

He kissed the top of your head, then your son’s.

“Good work, kid. I’ll buy you a better set of paints than whatever the hospital gave you.”

Your son just blinked up at him and said flatly:

“You should buy mama a new dress too.”

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

The Deep Space Hunter Association was holding their annual memorial gala, honoring the families of retired hunters and their contributions to the field. This year’s theme was “Beyond the Stars.”

You weren’t a hunter anymore. You were Xavier’s pretty, pampered wife now.

But your son’s drawing, an oddly accurate rendering of a decommissioned Starclass cruiser drifting in a starlit field, had made it into the memorial booklets, and a miniature 3D model of it was placed on a display table with his name.

He stuck to your side like glue the entire night.

Tiny silver-haired copy of his father, dressed in a suit Xavier had custom-commissioned in midnight blue silk. His little hand clenched tight in yours. He didn’t speak much to anyone. Just blinked slowly at them and occasionally stared at the ceiling like he was thinking about the fate of dying galaxies.

And then it happened.

A guest, some washed-up former officer’s wife—approached you during cocktail hour.

She smiled too widely.

“You were a hunter, weren’t you, sweetheart? Gave it all up to play house?”

You laughed politely, brushing your son’s hair from his cheek.

But the woman leaned in conspiratorially, loud enough for the nearby table to hear.

“Well, I suppose even a little darling like you needs a fallback plan. Married a high ranking hunter, didn’t you? Smart. That’s how you keep eating. Pretty face, cozy job title, the baby’s probably the only reason he keeps you around now, hmm?”

You froze.

And before Xavier could even reappear from behind the wine bar where he was reading the gala sponsor list…

Your little boy turned his head toward the woman.

Very slowly. Eyes dull. Voice flat.

“You shouldn’t talk to mama.”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“You shouldn’t talk to mama.”

“Ever.”

There was something eerie about how still he stood.

How his little mouth didn’t move much. How his hand was still in yours, but his words felt like they came from the void.

The woman frowned, awkwardly laughing it off.

“Oh, he’s a serious one, isn’t he—?”

“Mama doesn’t need to be smart. She’s perfect already.”

“And I’m smart enough for both of us.”

You gasped softly, touched. But the room had gone tense.

That’s when Xavier’s voice cut in, quiet, but sharp, from behind.

“…Is there a problem?”

He was suddenly next to you. One arm around your waist. The other resting protectively on his son’s small shoulder.

“Because it sounded like someone was disrespecting my wife in front of our child,” Xavier said softly, expression unreadable. “And frankly, I’m feeling… territorial.”

The woman stammered. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“Leave.”

“He already told you once. You shouldn’t talk to her. Don’t make me repeat him.”

She left. Pale.

You turned to your son to kiss his temple, but he was already clinging to your leg again like nothing happened. His little voice whispered:

“I don’t like loud people.”

Xavier nodded in agreement, lifting the boy into his arms with ease.

“Neither do I. But you did well, little star.”

“I didn’t like what she said,” your son mumbled, hiding in Xavier’s neck.

“Me neither,” Xavier murmured, brushing your lips with a soft kiss. “If I’d gotten to her first, I might’ve removed her from the guest list literally. But you were faster.”

He paused. Smiled faintly.

“Like father, like son.”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

It was supposed to be a harmless little ribbon-cutting ceremony, The Learning Annex, a gleaming, high-security facility for early childhood education and strategy training (because of course your husband thinks kindergarteners need chessboards and surveillance-proof lockers).

Your son had helped design the logo.

A dramatic silver phoenix… wearing a crown.

“Like mama,” he said with a perfectly straight face when reporters asked him why.

You were seated in the front row in a frilly pearl-toned dress and heels that Sylus had picked to match the annex aesthetic, while your son stood beside your chair like a tiny bodyguard. His suit was custom. His posture perfect. His expression already disgusted with the general public.

Then someone made the mistake of speaking.

A local board member, trying far too hard to sound cute in front of the press, smiled and said loudly:

“You know, it’s sweet. You can tell the boy worships his father. He’s got the blood. Strong. Sharp. Knows how to command a room.”

Then came the fatal line.

“Though I suppose his mother’s… charm is more aesthetic, isn’t it? Not everyone’s built for real influence.”

There was a beat of silence.

You felt your stomach drop. You weren’t even sure what you would’ve said.

But your son stepped forward.

One hand in his pocket. The other pointing right at the man.

“…Say it again.”

“Excuse me?” the man blinked, flustered.

“Say it again. I dare you.”

He tilted his head slightly, red eyes glittering with his father’s exact brand of premeditated malice.

“Say one more thing about my mama. And I’ll tell papa you touched her.”

You choked.

The man paled visibly. “What—?!”

“I won’t even have to lie. I’ll cry in front of the cameras and say you yelled at her. I bet you’d get fired. Or worse.”

At that moment, Sylus himself stepped into view, sipping wine from a black crystal flute like he’d been watching from the wings the entire time.

“Is that true, darling?” he said lazily, eyes flicking to the man. “Did he say something stupid?”

Your son turned to Sylus, voice cold.

“He called mama a decoration.”

Sylus’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Unforgivable.”

He turned to the man and said smoothly, “Your invitation to the gala next month is revoked. Your grant request? Shredded. Your seat on the board?”

He reached into his coat, pulled out a folder, and ripped it in half.

“I don’t trust anyone who underestimates my wife. And neither does my son.”

“Smart boy,” he added, ruffling his hair. “He knows power when he sees it.”

Your son beamed for the first time all day.

Then promptly turned to you and climbed into your lap like nothing had happened, muttering:

“Don’t worry, mama. I won.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

The banquet was being held in your husband’s honor. A sprawling, glimmering Skyhaven function for his most recent Farspace Fleet success, one of the most high-profile operations in the last five years.

You were seated near the front in a dark velvet dress, wearing a diamond collar Caleb had clasped around your throat himself. Your little boy sat beside you in a mini formal uniform tailored to match his father’s, a gift from the generals. He refused to sit still unless your hand was resting on his thigh.

Caleb had stepped away briefly to speak with a few councilmen. Which was exactly when someone got brave.

An older officer’s wife sat down beside you and offered a tight smile.

“You must be exhausted, dear. Being married to a colonel at your age?”

You tilted your head with a polite smile. “I’m quite happy, thank you.”

But she wasn’t finished.

“I suppose you’re what they call a pretty distraction. A soft thing he can come home to. But he wouldn’t have made it this far if he actually took your opinions seriously, hmm?”

You blinked. That one stung.

But you didn’t respond, because someone beat you to it.

Your son had stood up.

“You don’t talk to my mama like that,” he said, voice shaking. Not from fear, but fury.

The woman turned in surprise. “Excuse me?”

He narrowed his violet eyes, and for a moment, he looked exactly like Caleb on the battlefield.

“You don’t talk to my mama like that. Ever.”

“She’s not a distraction. She’s my dad’s whole world.”

“He says that to us every night.”

You froze, eyes softening.

The woman let out a nervous laugh. “I think you’re a bit too young to understand how grown-ups—”

“I’m not too young,” your son snapped. “I’m smarter than you. And I have better ears.”

Then came the final blow:

“Do you want me to tell my dad what you said? I don’t think you’ll get to keep your table.”

And then you felt it: Caleb had returned. Quiet as a shadow. Standing just behind the woman now, arms crossed and gaze cold.

“…He wouldn’t even need to tell me,” he said darkly. “I heard every word.”

The woman turned pale.

“I’d suggest you find a different banquet to slither into next time. Preferably one where my wife and child aren’t in attendance. Because if I hear you speak to either of them again—”

“—you’ll find yourself uninvited from Skyhaven entirely.”

The woman stammered and fled, heels clacking.

Your little boy turned to you, pouty but proud.

“Did I do good, mama?”

You pulled him into your lap and kissed his forehead.

“You did so good, baby.”

Caleb crouched down beside your chair, smoothing his son’s hair and brushing his lips against your cheek.

“He’s right, you know,” Caleb whispered. “You’re my whole world.”

“And if anyone forgets that,” he murmured, violet eyes glittering, “our son will remind them.”

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

National Showdown!

Summary: In which, the students of RSA had caught a rumor of a magicless prefect from another world staying in... NRC!?!?!?? Now you, reader are about to experience a whole ass Rollercoaster with these guys. So much chaos running around, declarations of love being thrown around, and unspoken yearning from their hidden heart almost boils over and accidentally spills over. Which, you almost caught them. (But, you didn't. Since you're too busy holding in your sanity from being thrown into an RSA boy and another so forth.) [💋VERSION1]

A/n: Okay, so idk what I'm doing. My writing is ass. Please forgive me, my angels. 🙏🙏🙏 like this is prolly my second post abt Twst (the other posts are just me talking random sht) and although, it isn't as good as the other writers I look up too, please note this is my first time writing and that expectations make me nervous 🙏 Again, forgive me for my dumbass that may get lost in this fic.

💋⚠️⁉️(Warnings!): Too much love and jealousy in the air, OOC (maybe), some bad Grammer (I just KNOW that ima write smth wrong here), Vil probably internally losing his shit bc the reader got kidnapped, Floyd is abt to fcking implode Royal Swords Academy, Jade is prolly thinking of hiring hitmans (but ultimately decides not to, bc he maybe one himself), everyone at NRC is plotting assassinations for the RSA students (excluding scarabia, Kalim might get ptsd from this, mb gang), ima add my own RSA characters bc I don't wanna use other people's RSA OCs without permission (but if you don't mind, I want to add the princesses' and princes' and other side characters that ppl had already taken as inspiration if you don't mind), this sht is getting long so, LOTS OF CUSSING BC I DONT HAVE A CLEAN MOUTH (or I just can't go without it), lots of fluff, no suggestive sht allowed in this account (Maybe in other accs if I'm up for it), good luck, reader. (USE OF [NAME] ‼️‼️)

🪷Angel of the beginning (your here) Angel of Journey 🪽->

Okay so maybe it wasn't a good idea to take a selfie with Cater and let him post it in Magicam. Why? One (if you haven't read this then I'm pretty sure you should! Or not, and you can ignore this, bby🫶), you decided to remove your mask and take ONE selfie with him, ONE. Second, you didn't know he'd send this in PUBLIC, with so many pretty photos of women and men alike in that God-forsaken social media platform. Third, you already had Night-motherfucking-Raven COLLAGE to deal with. Like college boys who r still immature (exception for a few [maybe] and we'll be good), dealing with their bullshyte, while dealing with a headmage that refuses to take the big ass responsibility called "Overblot prevention", 5 missing essays, assignments, homework, paperwork that clearly should be dealt with by an adult, and having friends that acts weirdly around you whenever you do something nice for them.

But, in the end. You still cared, sure, you may not love them (or do you?), but you don't need to love them in order to care for them. Maybe, that's why they all (love) like you so much, so protective, and so caring in the end. (I'd like the twst characters to give the same treatment as the MC treated them yknow? A sweet treat for the Ramshackle Prefect) And on the other hand, they all loved and cared for you! I mean, who wouldn't? They want you to step out of your shell every once in a while, even if it's just for a breather. Your beautiful, inside and out. You don't need to appeal them physically, just your company is enough for them. But, oh, that photo that Cater posted on magicam? Yeah, everyone saw it, the entirety of NRC. Even Vil Scheonheit himself liked the post. It can't get crazier from then on, right?

...

WRONG.

You checked your old ass phone (and let's say you're mutual with Cater in Magicam, besides Ace and Deuce), to, not only to see your face ONLINE IN PUBLIC, but also seeing the amount of likes that specific photo of you, received. THAT IS A SHIT TON OF VIEWS OH SWEET *Mentions of your religion or a random ass word*. WHY? Okay, it can't be that bad! Like, at least your in a school, where no one from outside of it will get you, but you doubt that someone will kidnap you. Cause' like, for what? Ransom or smth? So, for funsies, you decided to check the comments that has like... 23.7k comments... holy gates that's a lot...

In the comments there were:

isukballz: Yoo, who's that pretty GAL/LAD/PERSON???

WifeyC0ll€cter: Wifey material, SPOTTED. ima kidnap this hot stuff, what's their @???

Fiendriding: Honey wake up!! Cay-cay just posted!!... WHO'S THAT PRETTY MAIDEN? (Ik it's suppose to be kept as gender neutral, but just pretend their calling you a Maiden despite your gender)

Snipping-Mens-banana: YO CAY-CAY HOW'D YOU PULL THIS BADDIE? MOVE ASIDE ITS MY TURN.

And so on with the topic being you and cater in this post only. And a shit ton of conspiracies and possibilities that maybe you and Cater might be dating. And speaking of Cater...

Someone just barged into your dorm.

"Heyy!~ [Name]-chan! Look at the amount of likes you got! See?? I told you that you'd get popular within seconds! And look! Your face is trending as well! Doubling your luck in social media, eh?~" a singy-songy voice comes scraping your ears like cheese cheddar. It was Cater. So of course, like the 'good' friend you are you greeted Cater (Maybe in a panic or not, you just need to make sure who liked that post containing your face with it prolly) and asked if he could show you the people that had liked the post (but I'm not letting 'you' say anything since I want YOU to imagine how YOU say it), so Cater showed you the likes from different user names. And most of them seemed terrifyingly familiar...

For example...

[Ace's username]

[Deuce's username]

Is that mf TREY? (Let's say Cater pestered him into getting the app in his phone so they can talk all the time. Oh, and yes Trey rlly did see the post and smiled. 🤫)

...And maybe when Cater snuck in Riddle's phone to get him an account as well... IS THAT RIDDLE'S ACCOUNT?

Leo0onak1ngsch00lar... (TF IS HE DOING HERE?)

__Howl_ [<- just pretend he places his last name in there along with random usernames]

Bucch1__shishi (I'm not good with these names bro, HELP)

Monstro_lounge-Official (Azul, wrong acc bro)

MushroomLoversClub🍄(Insert Jade's username bc I can't find anything creative)

I-will-dunkyouintothe-basketball-hoopLeech (Floyd what fucking name is that.)

[Imagine the rest of the main casts usernames, bro. I need to waste my energy on writing the rest of this fic.]

What the fuck. You really thought, that you wouldn't be that popular in just, JUST a few fucking minutes. But, I mean a logical part of you thinks that since this is a post from Cater, of course, everyone would be nice to you as well. Being his friend and all. And, just maybe, your friends liking this post because they wanted to show you some support (but Malleus can't use Magicam and was only shown that photo by Lilia) so, I guess it's not that bad that your quite popular online? (Atp your starting to believe your pretty by some chances since the comments was just boosting your [if non-existent] ego, so you were slightly happy from this) And actually? Maybe you liked the attention (or nah, your choice).

And, maybe. People do think you're pretty, in a romantic- platonic way(?).

Meanwhile, at Heartslabyul...

So maybe as soon as Cater had left (after a few chats and hangouts with you, just imagine bonding off-screen) he's just scrolling through the comments of the recently popular post he sent, with you in it. Of course, you can attract people online! Who even said you were ugly in the first place? You're not! It's okay not to be humble every once in a while. And maybe if he jussstt stare at your face a littlee longer...

...Is that an RSA student in HIS comment section?

Oh no. Oh, nononnonononononononono-

Breath. Calm down Cater. Maybe, they just liked it for coincidence?

EinEnchanté: Why, is that a fair maiden I see? Why are they in a villain's school? If I may ask, what made you think you could take a photo of their glorious figure? I knew you, nefarious villains, were terrible. How could you hide something from the world!?

... I think Cater fucked up. This wasn't supposed to happen, like, at all! That photo was meant for NRC. And NRC only. Not with these prissy do-gooders, No! Oms, he can feel the headache plummeting into his head like a needle being stabbed at the side of his skull already! Prefect was already popular as they were, now he made them extra popular by sending it to the whole world! No point in deleting this photo, because tons of people had already saved it and sent it to the others! Spreading quick... and soon, it might reach... those guys.

Cater barges into the heartslabyul kitchen, in a panic, since the RSA comments are on the rise. They need to do something! "Cater!- what in the great sevens are you doing?" Sighed Trey, slightly startled. "It's an emergency! Okay, so I may or may not have-" "CATER! NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!" Shouted Riddle, interrupting Cater's panic rambling, "What made you think it was a good idea to run in the hallways!? Do you know you might slip-" "Not the point rn, Riddle! RSA students had commented on my posts with one of the prefects in them and now they're assuming we kidnapped them or something!" Cater quickly retorts with haste.

... both of the dorm head and vice had gone silent.

...Cater stared back.

Trey's face was unreadable, blank. Riddle was dead silent.

"....Just, check the comments, again." Cater breathed out, the tension thick. Both the vice and head took out their phones to check.

... there's more comments from RSA now.

...Shit.

"Guys? What's up with you all? Why are you so silent -" Ace paused, feeling the tension thickening the moment he stepped in, alongside Deuce, "Housewarden...?" Deuce said in a hushed tone. The red-haired leader and green-haired vice looked up from their phones to turn to the two freshmen, with Cater looking slightly panic and pale.

Wtf happened here? Is some war about to go on? "Uhhh, guys? Are you alright? What even happened in here, like, seriously? You guys look like something died in here-" "Yes, Cater is brain-dead for posting that photo." Riddle sighed, exasperated. "Photo? What photo? You mean, the prefect and him? What about it?" Deuce questioned, confused since he just looked at the new post a few hours ago, now taking out his phone to take a peak on what had happened, even Ace.

What could've possibly happened in that post? Did someone hate on them? Cyber-bullied? Doxxed? Or something else entirely worse?

...

It is something worse.

There were so, so, so many RSA comments and other schools from different districts. Ace was silently reading every comment that belonged to an RSA student, even Deuce.

All five of them were in complete silence.

Riddle Rosehearts

Was just in complete silence. Like, he just heard his execution date. The moment he saw the last name "Wondre" in the comments, he knew this person. That untidy boy from the other school.

xXAllieeeeWndresonXx: woahhh who's that person? They're so pretty! Riddle-San won't mind if I hung out with them, right? :D

....

This little shit- who does he think he is!?

Trey didn't hold back a sigh, knowing that this was going to cause trouble. Ace is already complaining about people stealing his crush- best friend away. Deuce is muttering incoherent shit to himself like he's having a crisis. Cater was just stunned to see these guys care so much (like he is), but on the other hand, maybe he shouldn't have sent that selfie at all. But, mistakes can happen and Cater sure did learn a lesson.

And all this just started because of a photo on Magicam.

...

.... what the fuc-

Meanwhile, in Savannaclaw...

Leona is just sleeping in his bedroom, Ruggie doing chores and making extra money from part-time jobs, and Jack is doing his regular laps around the dorm. Everything was going great. Until-

"Hey, are those RSA students commenting on Cater's new post?" A stupid fucking Savannaclaw NPC said.

...Cater's latest post was with the prefect..

Huh?

Leona checked his phone, Ruggie wanted to do it too but was absent (and missed the convo), and Jack stopped mid-jog. Taking out his phone (from wherever he placed it in), and checking the comments. Said nothing. And sent it to Ruggie. Safe to say, none of them (or the entirety of NRC - Scarabia) are happy to hear abt RSA's delusional comments.

Leona Kingscholar

Man's look like he just witnessed his wife getting killed (spoiler alert!!: u r the wife/hj) just sayin', herbivore. Wtf made you think it was a good idea to show your face in public like that? Not that he cared, but the fact those personified heroic-syndrome disorders came to a fake-ass conclusion that they kidnapped you because of this school's reputation. What the fuck.

...And the fact he saw a familiar but annoying name in that comment section did not make it any better. This guy had the full-on audacity to even set his eyes on HIS herbivore.

No. He doesn't need more competition. He already has more than enough in this entire fucking school with these lil' shits. Do NOT make this worse for him.

...

What if you'll be better off without him? They are sooo much better, right? Surely, there's no use in keeping you here when all he and everyone else here made you suffer. So, why should he stop you? But, then again, you DID stay here and have yet to go home... Why should he let them take you?

.... What if they find your home quicker? Then what he'll do? What is the point if they can treat you so much better? What is the point if they can do it better? What is the point because they are so much more recognized and appreciated than him? What is the point-

...Do you like those RSA princes? Thinking about it, you haven't even met them. And, some of their personalities might rub you off the wrong way (Maybe, or it's just the fact that you told [<-if you did] Leona that you had a bad relationship with men in general and needed space whenever you get uncomfortable, so he's secretly and indirectly protecting you by placing rules to respect you and your boundaries), some might disturb you in a way since SOME *Looks at prince Wintergreen.* are... persistent with their catch.

Nonetheless, he's going to bury all these feelings underground (like his dream) and just look out for you as usual.

Ruggie's phone vibrated with a notification, he checks it. Only to be met with Jack's name with a photo attachment, it's the same post Ruggie liked recently, but Jack texted:

"Check the comments."

... Why the fuck is he so ominous about it? Nvm, Ruggie goes to check-

...aaannddd- he knows somewhere deep into his heart, the prefect's ass is gonna get into some uninvited trouble.

Sigh... wait. Is that- ZAPHY RETRO? HIS CHILDHOOD RIVAL? [And the one who keeps taking his donuts for the "fun" of it]...

...

No.

Ruggie shuts his phone off with an [???] Expression, he's not saying a word. But he's doing his job a bit faster now and it's scarily efficient.

What is he planning?

Jack is probably the most normal one here (besides Silver), and is still contemplating on what the fuck is happening with his dormmates? Suddenly, they're all about plotting murder against RSA??? He thought they were talking abt the recent photo- oh, nvm he's a dumbass. He just remembered the comments.

Yeah, your going to really need that protection. Like man's people from other schools had spotted you.

...

...this is going to be a big mess...

At Octavinelle, in the Monstro Lounge...

The Lounge was busy as usual, with customers talking about the recent post an upperclassman from Heartslabyul posted. Jade was taking orders from table 3, Floyd wanted to ditch but was reluctantly serving table 10, next to table 8.

In Table 8 the group of Heartslabyul students gathered in a gossip talk, "And like, it was crazy! Riddle-senpai was just dead silent! After checking the recent photo that Cater-senpai posted. He was like- ten times scarier with that expression! And, ngl if I were in his heels, I'd also react that way after seeing those comments of those goody-two shoes!"

Eh...? What did this guppy say? Kingyo-chan's silent expression instead of bursting red? Whaaaat??? And, it's all about a recent post from Hanadai-kun. Hmm, but the recent post was with Koebi-chan...

Floyd places the tray down on table 10, puts his hand in his pocket, taking out his phone to check what all this is about, in the middle of his work. Checking the comments, he saw... Florence?

Fl0underf1sh: Wahhh! They are so beautiful! Who are they? I wanna see them in real life! Too bad they are at NRC... :( Oh well! I can always take a visit with Rielle and Sabasty [<- Sébastien] !!!

Hell nawh.

*Cue to Floyd leaving the Monstro Lounge, running straight towards Ramshackle. [And add some discord sound effects like leaving the chat]*

Jade just watches in amused silence as Floyd bolts out of the Lounge.

Azul, doing his usual work with the papers and students he had recently made deals with for the past few weeks, had his phone kept on while he stared at it from time to time. A post about you and Cater. But besides Cater, you.

...And he can see the odd growing numbers in the comment section.

But there was no time to rest so-

*Knock knock knock* a familiar rhythm tapped gently on his office door, "Come in, Jade." Azul permitted. Jade enters with an amused smile, "Where's Floyd?" Azul questioned before Jade could say anything. "Fufu~ Floyd ran outside the Monstro Lounge," Jade said with amusement, eyes gleaming with intentional mischief. "Sighh, for what?" "I do not exactly know. But, if I could guess, it could be the topic the.. customers were talking about recently, about the Prefect and Cater-senpai's post. From what I know, they were mainly talking about the Prefect before Floyd took out his phone and went outside in haste." Jade explained, putting his hand on where his heart should be.

...What..? Azul takes his phone out of curiosity, not before "Go and get Floyd back here, he has unfinished tasks to do." "As you wish." Jade leaves to fetch Floyd.

Azul Ashengrotto

The moment he checked the comments, his brain was instantly thinking of a plan. No hessy (<-Jay reference).

He looked through the comments like he's peaking through government files.

Then that comment hits him.

RielleAtlantic!!!: woahhh! They're such a fairytale! Are they human? They look super pretty like a princess, maybe Florence should take me to NRC sometime!

......

NOT HIM AGAIN-

*Cue to an internally panicking and screaming Azul*

Meanwhile, with Jade, he had gone out to look for his brother, suspecting he might be in Ramshackle's since that is where the dear prefect is usually located (or probably chilling in there since you could be an introvert and prefer to stay at home rather than going out all the time), while Jade is strolling down the rocky pathway (to other students: jogging, mf is THAT tall) he checked his phone to see what chaos you had started (unintentionally or not) and was met with a ton of chaos in the comments specifically. Some RSA students are basically declaring war, while NRC students had commented to defend themselves and prevent the RSA lads get any closer to the prefect, and what's this? Other schools have also taken notice of this post you. My~ you really do attract trouble anywhere, even in media's where you can socialize from far distances by using these cellular devices. But he sees-

Forward reply to RielleAtlantic!!! <- Sébastien_Warford: Rielle, you've just met them online, there is no need for you to write poems about them now unless you want us to take a small visit to Night Raven. But I must say, they do look stunning. A shame that they are still single. Maybe we'd get a chance with them if they'd get to know us first.

...ah. Well, that was quite an... unpleasant surprise. But it's not surprising when you can attract even the most prominent figures in some other countries and sea.

At Ramshackle...

Jade arrives and enters the gate to Ramshackle's. It was already opened, Jade noted. Floyd had definitely gone in here.

And the front door of the Ramshackle's is opened as well, with no damages either, hm.

"KOEBI-CHAN????" yelled out a confused eel inside the dilapidated house, Jade mused.

He explored a little in the house, it looked quite habitable despite its poor appearance. So he went upstairs to where his brother is, since it was just Floyd looking for dear prefect and would probably skip his shift again, "Floyd, it's time to go back to the Lounge, Azul is looking for you, let us not bother the prefect-"

As he walked in he only saw his brother, no sign of the dear prefect. Huh...?

"Koebi-chan isn't here... you didn't find them either, Jade?" Floyd said, still looking around at for the said absence of prefect.

Oya?~ Well, this is quite the predicament. Very amusing if the... Royal Swords Academy students just foolishly decide to kidnap the beloved prefect in this school, without knowing the consequences afterwards.

Floyd looked irritated, first he heard those guppies yappin' about Koebi-chan about that dumb (but pretty) post and now Koebi-chan is gone!? Where tf did they go?? Unless...

"They were taken by those little shits were they..?" Floyd said calmly with a blank face, a sudden 180 turn from his previous mood, he couldn't find his Koebi-chan in the house nor the school, he couldn't even smell their cologne, except...

Except for this annoying flowery scent that does not belong to Koebi-chan, more likely, its smell is intertwined with Koebi-chan's scent, and it irritates him.

Jade smells it, too. And so, he sighs, "Let us go inform the others, shall we?" Jade said ominously, with a big, fat, shit-eating grin.

Floyd looks like he's about to commit homicide with that frown and glare painting his darkened face.

He did not enjoy this one bit. Taking what's not theirs.

Meanwhile, with Vil...

After a photoshoot session, he received a notification, from Rook.

Hunt: Mon dieu! Monsieur Prémédite had informed the Vices- that mon Trickster/Étoile went missing!

Vil Scheonheit

... WHAT.

Just RIGHT AFTER his PHOTOSHOOT? Seriously! Can't sweet potato catch a break already?

Wtf happened anyway?

Wasn't it a FEW HOURS ago they were with Cater?

... well WAS before they just vanished!

...Rook sent an attachment. And it's the recent post everyone saw today.

Why the fuck are there RSA students in there?

Until he sees that ONE username.

NeigeLeblanc: Oms! It's the VDC manager I saw before in the event! Can I get their @?

NeigeLeblanc Replied to NeigeLeblanc: Nvm! They're here now! Omss! They look like they came straight out of a fairytale! Stay tuned for our selfies later!

... DAMN SEVENS NEIGE-

Vil then returns to his dorm, calling out for a housewarden meeting tomorrow.

To be continued... (it took too much energy outta me but I'll make a part two for the rest of the main cast!)💋

Until then. Prefect.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Autoenshittification

Forget F1: the only car race that matters now is the race to turn your car into a digital extraction machine, a high-speed inkjet printer on wheels, stealing your private data as it picks your pocket. Your car’s digital infrastructure is a costly, dangerous nightmare — but for automakers in pursuit of postcapitalist utopia, it’s a dream they can’t give up on.

Your car is stuffed full of microchips, a fact the world came to appreciate after the pandemic struck and auto production ground to a halt due to chip shortages. Of course, that wasn’t the whole story: when the pandemic started, the automakers panicked and canceled their chip orders, only to immediately regret that decision and place new orders.

But it was too late: semiconductor production had taken a serious body-blow, and when Big Car placed its new chip orders, it went to the back of a long, slow-moving line. It was a catastrophic bungle: microchips are so integral to car production that a car is basically a computer network on wheels that you stick your fragile human body into and pray.

The car manufacturers got so desperate for chips that they started buying up washing machines for the microchips in them, extracting the chips and discarding the washing machines like some absurdo-dystopian cyberpunk walnut-shelling machine:

https://www.autoevolution.com/news/desperate-times-companies-buy-washing-machines-just-to-rip-out-the-chips-187033.html

These digital systems are a huge problem for the car companies. They are the underlying cause of a precipitous decline in car quality. From touch-based digital door-locks to networked sensors and cameras, every digital system in your car is a source of endless repair nightmares, costly recalls and cybersecurity vulnerabilities:

https://www.reuters.com/business/autos-transportation/quality-new-vehicles-us-declining-more-tech-use-study-shows-2023-06-22/

What’s more, drivers hate all the digital bullshit, from the janky touchscreens to the shitty, wildly insecure apps. Digital systems are drivers’ most significant point of dissatisfaction with the automakers’ products:

https://www.theverge.com/23801545/car-infotainment-customer-satisifaction-survey-jd-power

Even the automakers sorta-kinda admit that this is a problem. Back in 2020 when Massachusetts was having a Right-to-Repair ballot initiative, Big Car ran these unfuckingbelievable scare ads that basically said, “Your car spies on you so comprehensively that giving anyone else access to its systems will let murderers stalk you to your home and kill you:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms

But even amid all the complaining about cars getting stuck in the Internet of Shit, there’s still not much discussion of why the car-makers are making their products less attractive, less reliable, less safe, and less resilient by stuffing them full of microchips. Are car execs just the latest generation of rubes who’ve been suckered by Silicon Valley bullshit and convinced that apps are a magic path to profitability?

Nope. Car execs are sophisticated businesspeople, and they’re surfing capitalism’s latest — and last — hot trend: dismantling capitalism itself.

Now, leftists have been predicting the death of capitalism since The Communist Manifesto, but even Marx and Engels warned us not to get too frisky: capitalism, they wrote, is endlessly creative, constantly reinventing itself, re-emerging from each crisis in a new form that is perfectly adapted to the post-crisis reality:

https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html

But capitalism has finally run out of gas. In his forthcoming book, Techno Feudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis proposes that capitalism has died — but it wasn’t replaced by socialism. Rather, capitalism has given way to feudalism:

https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279

Under capitalism, capital is the prime mover. The people who own and mobilize capital — the capitalists — organize the economy and take the lion’s share of its returns. But it wasn’t always this way: for hundreds of years, European civilization was dominated by rents, not markets.

A “rent” is income that you get from owning something that other people need to produce value. Think of renting out a house you own: not only do you get paid when someone pays you to live there, you also get the benefit of rising property values, which are the result of the work that all the other homeowners, business owners, and residents do to make the neighborhood more valuable.

The first capitalists hated rent. They wanted to replace the “passive income” that landowners got from taxing their serfs’ harvest with active income from enclosing those lands and grazing sheep in order to get wool to feed to the new textile mills. They wanted active income — and lots of it.

Capitalist philosophers railed against rent. The “free market” of Adam Smith wasn’t a market that was free from regulation — it was a market free from rents. The reason Smith railed against monopolists is because he (correctly) understood that once a monopoly emerged, it would become a chokepoint through which a rentier could cream off the profits he considered the capitalist’s due:

https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/

Today, we live in a rentier’s paradise. People don’t aspire to create value — they aspire to capture it. In Survival of the Richest, Doug Rushkoff calls this “going meta”: don’t provide a service, just figure out a way to interpose yourself between the provider and the customer:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn

Don’t drive a cab, create Uber and extract value from every driver and rider. Better still: don’t found Uber, invest in Uber options and extract value from the people who invest in Uber. Even better, invest in derivatives of Uber options and extract value from people extracting value from people investing in Uber, who extract value from drivers and riders. Go meta.

This is your brain on the four-hour-work-week, passive income mind-virus. In Techno Feudalism, Varoufakis deftly describes how the new “Cloud Capital” has created a new generation of rentiers, and how they have become the richest, most powerful people in human history.

Shopping at Amazon is like visiting a bustling city center full of stores — but each of those stores’ owners has to pay the majority of every sale to a feudal landlord, Emperor Jeff Bezos, who also decides which goods they can sell and where they must appear on the shelves. Amazon is full of capitalists, but it is not a capitalist enterprise. It’s a feudal one:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola

This is the reason that automakers are willing to enshittify their products so comprehensively: they were one of the first industries to decouple rents from profits. Recall that the reason that Big Car needed billions in bailouts in 2008 is that they’d reinvented themselves as loan-sharks who incidentally made cars, lending money to car-buyers and then “securitizing” the loans so they could be traded in the capital markets.

Even though this strategy brought the car companies to the brink of ruin, it paid off in the long run. The car makers got billions in public money, paid their execs massive bonuses, gave billions to shareholders in buybacks and dividends, smashed their unions, fucked their pensioned workers, and shipped jobs anywhere they could pollute and murder their workforce with impunity.

Car companies are on the forefront of postcapitalism, and they understand that digital is the key to rent-extraction. Remember when BMW announced that it was going to rent you the seatwarmer in your own fucking car?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/02/big-river/#beemers

Not to be outdone, Mercedes announced that they were going to rent you your car’s accelerator pedal, charging an extra $1200/year to unlock a fully functional acceleration curve:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/23/23474969/mercedes-car-subscription-faster-acceleration-feature-price

This is the urinary tract infection business model: without digitization, all your car’s value flowed in a healthy stream. But once the car-makers add semiconductors, each one of those features comes out in a painful, burning dribble, with every button on that fakakta touchscreen wired directly into your credit-card.

But it’s just for starters. Computers are malleable. The only computer we know how to make is the Turing Complete Von Neumann Machine, which can run every program we know how to write. Once they add networked computers to your car, the Car Lords can endlessly twiddle the knobs on the back end, finding new ways to extract value from you:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

That means that your car can track your every movement, and sell your location data to anyone and everyone, from marketers to bounty-hunters looking to collect fees for tracking down people who travel out of state for abortions to cops to foreign spies:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/n7enex/tool-shows-if-car-selling-data-privacy4cars-vehicle-privacy-report

Digitization supercharges financialization. It lets car-makers offer subprime auto-loans to desperate, poor people and then killswitch their cars if they miss a payment:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U2eDJnwz_s

Subprime lending for cars would be a terrible business without computers, but digitization makes it a great source of feudal rents. Car dealers can originate loans to people with teaser rates that quickly blow up into payments the dealer knows their customer can’t afford. Then they repo the car and sell it to another desperate person, and another, and another:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/27/boricua/#looking-for-the-joke-with-a-microscope

Digitization also opens up more exotic options. Some subprime cars have secondary control systems wired into their entertainment system: miss a payment and your car radio flips to full volume and bellows an unstoppable, unmutable stream of threats. Tesla does one better: your car will lock and immobilize itself, then blare its horn and back out of its parking spot when the repo man arrives:

https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/

Digital feudalism hasn’t stopped innovating — it’s just stopped innovating good things. The digital device is an endless source of sadistic novelties, like the cellphones that disable your most-used app the first day you’re late on a payment, then work their way down the other apps you rely on for every day you’re late:

https://restofworld.org/2021/loans-that-hijack-your-phone-are-coming-to-india/

Usurers have always relied on this kind of imaginative intimidation. The loan-shark’s arm-breaker knows you’re never going to get off the hook; his goal is in intimidating you into paying his boss first, liquidating your house and your kid’s college fund and your wedding ring before you default and he throws you off a building.

Thanks to the malleability of computerized systems, digital arm-breakers have an endless array of options they can deploy to motivate you into paying them first, no matter what it costs you:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers

Car-makers are trailblazers in imaginative rent-extraction. Take VIN-locking: this is the practice of adding cheap microchips to engine components that communicate with the car’s overall network. After a new part is installed in your car, your car’s computer does a complex cryptographic handshake with the part that requires an unlock code provided by an authorized technician. If the code isn’t entered, the car refuses to use that part.

VIN-locking has exploded in popularity. It’s in your iPhone, preventing you from using refurb or third-party replacement parts:

https://doctorow.medium.com/apples-cement-overshoes-329856288d13

It’s in fuckin’ ventilators, which was a nightmare during lockdown as hospital techs nursed their precious ventilators along by swapping parts from dead systems into serviceable ones:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/3azv9b/why-repair-techs-are-hacking-ventilators-with-diy-dongles-from-poland

And of course, it’s in tractors, along with other forms of remote killswitch. Remember that feelgood story about John Deere bricking the looted Ukrainian tractors whose snitch-chips showed they’d been relocated to Russia?

https://doctorow.medium.com/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors-bc93f471b9c8

That wasn’t a happy story — it was a cautionary tale. After all, John Deere now controls the majority of the world’s agricultural future, and they’ve boobytrapped those ubiquitous tractors with killswitches that can be activated by anyone who hacks, takes over, or suborns Deere or its dealerships.

Control over repair isn’t limited to gouging customers on parts and service. When a company gets to decide whether your device can be fixed, it can fuck you over in all kinds of ways. Back in 2019, Tim Apple told his shareholders to expect lower revenues because people were opting to fix their phones rather than replace them:

https://www.apple.com/newsroom/2019/01/letter-from-tim-cook-to-apple-investors/

By usurping your right to decide who fixes your phone, Apple gets to decide whether you can fix it, or whether you must replace it. Problem solved — and not just for Apple, but for car makers, tractor makers, ventilator makers and more. Apple leads on this, even ahead of Big Car, pioneering a “recycling” program that sees trade-in phones shredded so they can’t possibly be diverted from an e-waste dump and mined for parts:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks

John Deere isn’t sleeping on this. They’ve come up with a valuable treasure they extract when they win the Right-to-Repair: Deere singles out farmers who complain about its policies and refuses to repair their tractors, stranding them with six-figure, two-ton paperweight:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it

The repair wars are just a skirmish in a vast, invisible fight that’s been waged for decades: the War On General-Purpose Computing, where tech companies use the law to make it illegal for you to reconfigure your devices so they serve you, rather than their shareholders:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/

The force behind this army is vast and grows larger every day. General purpose computers are antithetical to technofeudalism — all the rents extracted by technofeudalists would go away if others (tinkereres, co-ops, even capitalists!) were allowed to reconfigure our devices so they serve us.

You’ve probably noticed the skirmishes with inkjet printer makers, who can only force you to buy their ink at 20,000% markups if they can stop you from deciding how your printer is configured:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty But we’re also fighting against insulin pump makers, who want to turn people with diabetes into walking inkjet printers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/10/loopers/#hp-ification

And companies that make powered wheelchairs:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/08/chair-ish/#r2r

These companies start with people who have the least agency and social power and wreck their lives, then work their way up the privilege gradient, coming for everyone else. It’s called the “shitty technology adoption curve”:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Technofeudalism is the public-private-partnership from hell, emerging from a combination of state and private action. On the one hand, bailing out bankers and big business (rather than workers) after the 2008 crash and the covid lockdown decoupled income from profits. Companies spent billions more than they earned were still wildly profitable, thanks to those public funds.

But there’s also a policy dimension here. Some of those rentiers’ billions were mobilized to both deconstruct antitrust law (allowing bigger and bigger companies and cartels) and to expand “IP” law, turning “IP” into a toolsuite for controlling the conduct of a firm’s competitors, critics and customers:

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

IP is key to understanding the rise of technofeudalism. The same malleability that allows companies to “twiddle” the knobs on their services and keep us on the hook as they reel us in would hypothetically allow us to countertwiddle, seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

The thing that stands between you and an alternative app store, an interoperable social media network that you can escape to while continuing to message the friends you left behind, or a car that anyone can fix or unlock features for is IP, not technology. Under capitalism, that technology would already exist, because capitalists have no loyalty to one another and view each other’s margins as their own opportunities.

But under technofeudalism, control comes from rents (owning things), not profits (selling things). The capitalist who wants to participate in your iPhone’s “ecosystem” has to make apps and submit them to Apple, along with 30% of their lifetime revenues — they don’t get to sell you jailbreaking kit that lets you choose their app store.

Rent-seeking technology has a holy grail: control over “ring zero” — the ability to compel you to configure your computer to a feudalist’s specifications, and to verify that you haven’t altered your computer after it came into your possession:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/30/ring-minus-one/#drm-political-economy

For more than two decades, various would-be feudal lords and their court sorcerers have been pitching ways of doing this, of varying degrees of outlandishness.

At core, here’s what they envision: inside your computer, they will nest another computer, one that is designed to run a very simple set of programs, none of which can be altered once it leaves the factory. This computer — either a whole separate chip called a “Trusted Platform Module” or a region of your main processor called a secure enclave — can tally observations about your computer: which operating system, modules and programs it’s running.

Then it can cryptographically “sign” these observations, proving that they were made by a secure chip and not by something you could have modified. Then you can send this signed “attestation” to someone else, who can use it to determine how your computer is configured and thus whether to trust it. This is called “remote attestation.”

There are some cool things you can do with remote attestation: for example, two strangers playing a networked video game together can use attestations to make sure neither is running any cheat modules. Or you could require your cloud computing provider to use attestations that they aren’t stealing your data from the server you’re renting. Or if you suspect that your computer has been infected with malware, you can connect to someone else and send them an attestation that they can use to figure out whether you should trust it.

Today, there’s a cool remote attestation technology called “PrivacyPass” that replaces CAPTCHAs by having you prove to your own device that you are a human. When a server wants to make sure you’re a person, it sends a random number to your device, which signs that number along with its promise that it is acting on behalf of a human being, and sends it back. CAPTCHAs are all kinds of bad — bad for accessibility and privacy — and this is really great.

But the billions that have been thrown at remote attestation over the decades is only incidentally about solving CAPTCHAs or verifying your cloud server. The holy grail here is being able to make sure that you’re not running an ad-blocker. It’s being able to remotely verify that you haven’t disabled the bossware your employer requires. It’s the power to block someone from opening an Office365 doc with LibreOffice. It’s your boss’s ability to ensure that you haven’t modified your messaging client to disable disappearing messages before he sends you an auto-destructing memo ordering you to break the law.

And there’s a new remote attestation technology making the rounds: Google’s Web Environment Integrity, which will leverage Google’s dominance over browsers to allow websites to block users who run ad-blockers:

https://github.com/RupertBenWiser/Web-Environment-Integrity

There’s plenty else WEI can do (it would make detecting ad-fraud much easier), but for every legitimate use, there are a hundred ways this could be abused. It’s a technology purpose-built to allow rent extraction by stripping us of our right to technological self-determination.

Releasing a technology like this into a world where companies are willing to make their products less reliable, less attractive, less safe and less resilient in pursuit of rents is incredibly reckless and shortsighted. You want unauthorized bread? This is how you get Unauthorized Bread:

https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/amp/

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon

[Image ID: The interior of a luxury car. There is a dagger protruding from the steering wheel. The entertainment console has been replaced by the text 'You wouldn't download a car,' in MPAA scare-ad font. Outside of the windscreen looms the Matrix waterfall effect. Visible in the rear- and side-view mirror is the driver: the figure from Munch's 'Scream.' The screen behind the steering-wheel has been replaced by the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.']

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

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

[ye4gerism]

𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑻𝑶 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑩𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑺 - 𝑱𝑬𝑨𝑵 𝑲𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑰𝑵 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹 part one

word count 3.1k

content tags/warnings harassment (briefly) college au, slow burn, awkward situations, coming of age, black reader friendly

author’s note i started writing this when the frat boy eren fanfics were trending briefly last month. i realized in my 4 years of writing on tumblr, i had never written a proper aot college au with dominican connie, best friend sasha/hitch, and frenemy mikasa.

synopsis sophomore d1 lacrosse player jean kirstein gets dumped by gymnast mikasa ackerman. your roommate wants to break you of your shell. what happens when a party hosted by his teammates leads to him asking you to be his girlfriend? part two

"Anonymous" 37m

I heard Mikasa dumped Jean lol

3.7k upvotes

Everyone knew sophomores Jean and Mikasa were the athletic power couple of the University of Paradis. He was a lacrosse player, and she was a gymnast - both at the D1 level. And most importantly, they were both hot. Why that's a prominent factor? Who knows?

Here's something you need to know - Fizzle, the love child between Chirp and Rebbit, and any university student's worst nightmare. God forbid you're caught wearing your most comfortable but uncoordinated outfit - they'll tear you into pieces.

But hey, you're here for school. You keep your head low, you go to your classes, go to club meetings - doing what makes your tuition worth paying.

"Girl, did you see Fizzle? The lacrosse team is throwing tonight!" Hitch was your roommate - heavily involved in sorority life and she loved to party. She was your polar opposite but you loved her as she brought so much life and laughter to college. And free shit (Hitch aspires to be an influencer). She also has a boyfriend, meaning she was gone most weekends - that was the cherry on top.

"The lacrosse team is throwing tonight...? What does that even mean? They aren't a frat," you say matter-of-factly. "And it's a Thursday night. Why would you want to go out?" You were at your desk, finishing up a big project due this weekend - what business did you have at any party?

Hitch, sitting on her bed, rolls her eyes. Her side of the room was spring-themed - a lot of yellows and pastel greens. Her desk was moderately organized - skincare and makeup were left out from this morning. Her bulletin board was decorated with a whiteboard calendar and photos of her boyfriend, Marlo.

Your side was tailored to your taste - your desk was very neat, you opted for a paper calendar and books were your main source of decor.

"Well, nobody has Friday classes like you, weirdo," Hitch teased. You roll your eyes - of course, you were majoring in such a topic that required some extra time.

"Okay listen, the party starts at 10:30 - nobody gets there that early but since with have class, I'll bring you back at 11:30. I'm willing to sacrifice some fun for you!" Hitch offered.

You look at her like she has three heads on her torso and then proceed to laugh. "Absolutely not. I'm not going to a lacrosse party on a Thursday night. What a stupid concept."

"Oh come on! We could get you in some sexy clothes! I know you want to pull from my closet," she baits. You always were curious about what it was like to dress as confidently and freely as Hitch, who showed up to class in tight shorts and tiny tops. It wasn't that you thought she was inappropriate - it was college, so you never put a lot of effort into your look. A simple t-shirt or sweater and a weekly rotation of the same four jeans worked for you.

"You know you want to-"

You give in. "Okay, just this once! But I get back at 11:20."

"Even better: 11:15!"

“Damn girl, you look hawt! Marlo, doesn't she look hot?"

You had stepped out of your shared bathroom with a completely new look - light makeup done by Hitch and a denim mini skirt, cheetah print top, and black platform sandals combo donated by her as well.

Marlo, who has Hitch on his lap, doesn't respond to her question. Hitch is cuddled up against him on her anti-suicide chair. She gives him a pointed look before smiling at you. "You look hot. I don't know why he isn't saying anything but you look hot."

"Maybe because I'm your boyfriend," he says, "But you look good Y/N."

"See how easy that was? Acting all weird..."

You drain Hitch's voice out for a moment and look at yourself in the mirror.

'This skirt is crazy short,' you thought. It brought out curves you had never really taken note of. You didn't look bad. When Hitch had offered to style you, you thought you were taking a class in clownery but no, she actually made you look really good.

"Well, we better get going." Hitch gets off of Marlo's lap. She offers him a hand and he gets up.

"Let's go have you some fun!"

The walk to the Lacrosse was a ten-minute walk. It seemed short on the way there but what about the walk back?

"Hey Hitch," you start curiously. She hums in response. "Are you planning on drinking?"

"Well, we didn't pre-game and it's like, what, your first night out? I gotta keep an eye on you and remember this huge milestone for you," she explains.

"For me?" you question.

"Mhm. We're gonna get some alcohol in that system!" she says too excitedly. Marlo gives her a concerned look.

"We won't make you drink or try anything you don't want to. But we'll keep you safe, that is 100 percent certainty," Marlo reassures. Hitch nods in agreement.

"Yeah, what he said."

You reach the home and there's a line building up. You observe three players up front quizzing desperate guests and either rejecting them or letting them in.

"Is the night over if they don't let us in?" you ask with hope in your voice. This was already way too much.

"Oh, they'll let us in. They'd be crazy not to," Hitch slyly responds.

The line moves ahead and you're finally at the front, giving you a better look at the players guarding the front of the house.

"Floch, Reiner, Porco." Hitch bats her eyes at the teammates and you see Marlo rolling his eyes.

"Hey Hitch." The redhead's tone is a little too excited. He has a devious look on his face as he looks Hitch up and down. "Looking to have some fun?"

"Aren't we all, Floch?" Marlo cuts in. Floch's face drops in annoyance.

"Ignore him. Go get yourself a drink, Marlo," the super duper tall blonde says. You assume he's Reiner. You've seen him around campus a few times.

The teammates move out of the way to let your group in but then they suddenly block your path. Your heart jumps; although you kind of did not want to do this, you also didn't want to be rejected by some athletes.

"And who are you?" This last guy, with his hair pushed back, must be Porco. He takes your body in, his eyes stopping at your hips. He clearly isn't paying attention to you anymore, so you look up at Reiner, waiting to be told to go home.

"She's with us." Marlo clasps a hand on Reiner's shoulder. Porco stops ogling you and moves a bit to let you in. You hear a whispered "damn" as you enter the lacrosse house, at which Marlo grabs your hand. "Fucking dogs," Marlo grumbles.

You're in an awkward position: Marlo's arm over Hitch and his hand gripping yours. You've never been this close to your roommate's boyfriend - you guys don't even talk often. You always took note of him walking down the hallway either in an academic hall or in the commons. Maybe you flashed him a quick smile or even waved, so this was weird.

"Connie!" Hitch wiggles out of Marlo's arm and waves excitedly at her friend. You look in the direction of where she's waving and see a tanned boy with a grey buzzcut. Besides him is a brunette with bangs dressed in a white tube top, black flared leggings, and white cowboy boots. She looks up at the sound of Hitch's voice and immediately runs to her, wrapping her up in a hug the minute she reaches her.

"Hey girlie," the cowboy boots girl greets, "Long time no see."

"Yeah, well," Hitch gestures to Marlo, "He's been keeping me away." She looks over her shoulder at you.

"This is Y/N, my roommate," she introduces.

"Oh, you're the one who doesn't go out!" Cowboy Boots says excitedly. Your stomach feels an automatic pang as your eyes frantically look over at Hitch. She shrugs.

"Well, I'm Sasha. Hitch and I are in SHE sisters," the girl introduces herself.

"She?" you question.

"Sigma Hera Epsilon," Hitch corrects, "You should know this."

"Well, if she's not going out a lot, you can't blame her," another voice says. That Connie guy. He rests his chin on her shoulder. "Nice to finally meet cha, Y/N."

You give him a shy wave. Did these guys think you were some sort of homebody loser?

"Can I have a drink?" you ask no one in particular.

"Let me take you to the kitchen and see if we can get you anything good." Connie offers his hand to you, which you reluctantly take.

You follow him around the house and grow increasingly concerned when you start to realize that the house is even more packed than before. How were you going to find Hitch? This place had music blasting everywhere and knowing her, you probably won't be able to reach her tonight.

You and Connie stop at a dining table. "Okay, all of our juices are here - jungle juice, vodka lemonade. You can mix whatever you want here," he explains. He takes you into the kitchen. "We have all of our box wines here and of course, we have a keg outside. But I have a feeling you might not be into that."

Shit - can he read the anxiety off your face? Connie picks up a solo cup and fills it with white wine. He presents the cup to you. "You look like you need this."

You're hesitant but you take it and sip out of the cup. It's surprisingly sweet and not as bad as you imagined.

"You like?" he asks. You don't give him an answer and it makes the atmosphere between you two awkward. "Ok! You know where everything is if you're up for more."

Connie leaves you alone in the kitchen and you try to calm yourself down. 'Where can I find Hitch?' you think. She'd probably be making out with Marlo or chatting it up with that Sasha girl. Did you want to get in the way of that? You decide to leave the kitchen and work your way through the crowd - maybe you'll run into a classmate. You take nervous sips as you walk deeper into the crowd and you slowly feel like you're losing yourself.

That is until you bump into that redhead from earlier. Floyd? Flint? Something. There's a beat to his steps and by the way he sways, you can tell he's drunk.

He grabs onto your hips, grounding you. "Hey pretty girl," he starts, "Where's your friend?" You don't answer, as you're fixated on figuring out what his name is. You know it, so why isn't it coming to mind?

Your heart picks up.

"You know, I thought Hitch was cute but you're pretty cute too. What's your name?" He pulls you closer to him and he starts to grind. Now you felt like you were going to die. Your first party and someone decided they would get handsy with you.

"Paisley," you lie. His eyebrows raise and he pauses.

"You don't look like a Paisley." He then proceeds to laugh. You can smell the alcohol on his breath. "What's your real name?" The redhead grips you tighter than before making it harder to think of a reasonable name. One of his hands roams elsewhere on your body building up panic in your body. Your eyes frantically scan the room for someone you know.

"Looking for your friend? She-"

You aren't doing to drink this wine. Your arm raises and your wrist flicks in such a way that causes the redhead to be drenched in what was once in your cup. He pushes you away and onto the floor, causing you to knock other people down with you.

"You stupid fucking slut! Are you stupid?" he shrieks. The crowd around you starts to quiet and you begin to feel embarrassed. He was the one acting touchy but he's on the team, so you'd look bad regardless.

"Hey Floch, lay off her."

You look up and see a really tall guy - he has to be on the team. He crouches down to your level and offers you a hand. You observe his muscular arm - oh yeah, he definitely has to be on the team. You take his hand and he helps you up.

"Let's get you out of here," he says. Floch's face is red from embarrassment. It's the last sight you see before your head hangs low. Your hero wraps his arm around your shoulder and escorts you out. Does your roommate care where you are?

"Reiner, 'scuse me,” he says, squeezing past the blond guarding the door.

Oh shit. You're already at the front of the house. How embarrassing. Your first party went to shit.

"What's up, Jean?" Reiner asks. Jean? Like Mikasa Jean? Your head snaps up to get a look at him - you actually didn't even know what he looked like. You were just familiar with that Fizzle post. He's wickedly handsome - so it's either Mikasa missed out or he's insanely evil.

Jean ignores Reiner and walks you to the sidewalk in front of the house. It's less crowded now as everyone who wanted to show up was in the house. You can finally get some fresh air instead of inhaling sweat and alcohol.

"Did you come with anyone?" Jean asks. He removes his arm from your shoulder and places both of his hands in his pockets. It's dark out but the streetlight above the both of you highlights his muscular arms.

"Hitch." Where was she anyway? Was she too far to see what had happened? Would Marlo hook up with her at the lacrosse house? He didn't seem like the type.

"Oh, that bitch? Let me walk you home," he offers.

"Oh, you don't have to! I know the way back," you say sheepishly. You don't like that he called your roommate a bitch so you start to walk away but he grabs your wrist. It spooks you and he immediately lets go.

"Sorry...didn't mean to grab you like that. I can't let you walk alone."

You're silent for a moment. "Listen, I appreciate you but I have a feeling it may not be a good idea. I don't know much about you other than the fact that your ex-girlfriend dumped you and you're on the lacrosse team."

His head cocks back and you scratch the back of your neck apologetically.

"Sorry. Last thing I want is for anyone to make up rumors about you walking me to my room," you reason.

"Can I have your number then? Just to make sure you're safe?" Jean offers. You think for a moment. It wouldn't be a bad idea, since the people you came with abandoned you and left you vulnerable.

You whip up your phone and begin to recite your number.

"Awesome, perfect. And what's your name? I assume you know mine." He smiles wide.

"It's Y/N," you say softly.

"Y/N," he repeats softly. You stare at each other for a moment before he breaks eye contact to press the green button on his phone. Your phone rings and you pick up.

"Get home safe," Jean says. You turn on your foot and start your journey back home.

The walk home was peaceful, which was a weird thing for you to even think as the past hour was anything but. You have Jean on speaker and you can hear the rustle of his pants.

"So..." His voice startles you. "What's your major?"

"Public Relations," you answer, "You?"

"Fine Arts and Political Science."

Your eyes widen. "You're actually here to learn?" you joke.

Luckily it lands as you hear him chuckling. Unfortunately, you do have to cut him off as you're already at your residence hall. "Well, I'm about to tap in. Thanks for saving me back there," you say.

"Any time, Y/N. Have a good night." He hangs up immediately and you take this as a sign to move on.

You make it back to your room and decide to wash off the smell of alcohol and sweat. You take off Hitch's clothes, fold them neatly, and place them on her bed.

You step into the shower and turn the heat up midway.

"What a weird night," you mutter to yourself.

You're better off sticking to your books.

When you woke up for class the next morning, you found Hitch sprawled out in her bed, still in her clothes from the night prior. You had a feeling she'd still be knocked out from last night and maybe she'd be gone the minute you got out of class. You didn't want to talk about last night with her. She completely went against her word.

You reach the dining hall and settle down in a booth. You hide your face in your hands and groan. Some coffee should do you some good. Before you get up, Marlo approaches your table with a plate. You scowl at him.

"Okay, hey, I'm sorry. Hitch is a little bit more accident-prone than you are. If anyone's going to hurt themselves, it's her." Marlo places the plate on the table.

Marlo's face loses its color. "What?" You purse your lips and nod.

"Yep. I'll never go out with either of you again," you promise.

"Ok, Y/N wait-"

"Y/N!" You turn your head. Jean. He's walking towards you with his tray of dirty dishes. What on earth could he possibly want from you?

"Glad to see you got back in one piece," he greets. He has really pretty eyes - a nice mixture of green and brown.

Before you have a chance to respond, he keeps talking. "Mind if I ask you a quick question?" He stops to acknowledge Marlo. "Private convo, buddy. Mind giving us some space?"

Marlo looks between you and Jean, slightly offended. He picks up his place and walks elsewhere.

Jean looks right, then left before looking you in the eye and lowering his voice. "Hey so, you know how I got broken up with? I need a rebound. No one knows you and you seem like a pretty nice person. Wanna pretend to be girlfriend until I get drafted?"

"Anonymous" 6hr

LMAOOOO WHO WAS THAT GIRL WHO THREW A DRINK AT FLOCH???

1.3k upvotes

[loveforthefeminineenergy]

What Will Be The Next Challenge Which You Are Ready To Face With On Your Journey? - Expansion - PAC🌟💥🦋

Welcome To Love For The Feminine 🦋

🌟Pile 1:

My lovely!

Can you handle fame? Being in the spotlight and having success in it? Have you dreamed of having the spotlight on you and being famous for what you are doing? Feeling that the whole world is watching you and waiting for you to rise and shine everyday!

This is the next challenge what you are ready to face with!

Being seen and known. Not just by one person or your friends and family but a whole community or even the world!

I am talking about social media success my lovely!

Because your words are matter and somehow in some way you will be recognized for it! No matter what you are doing, this can be any kind of way you are expressing yourself and using the internet for it!

Maybe until this time you denied it or you were afraid of it! This can be that people judgment was in your way or you were just afraid to being yourself and showing who you really are!

Not anymore!! I am hearing that! Put back that crown were it belongs and shine, your people are waiting for you!

You are a beautiful light and radiating like the sun, it's time to come out of your shell or even your own comfort zone and dream big! Be brave to dream big again!

Whoever doubted you or told you that you are not good enough, can flush themselves down to the toilet, because it was not true!

I am feeling you can be very creative my lovely, or have a cause or a beautiful voice even!

You are the brand you are the star and you are the main character!

This challenge which this reading is all about can be actually believing in yourself when no one is believing you! Being consistent and motivated when no one is there to cheer for you!

Keeping up the faith within you when even the whole world is against you!

My lovely this is the biggest challenge here to overcome this by yourself on your own and come out of it as a winner because you know you will achieve it no matter how many years it takes!

And You Are Going to have it and when it's going to be yours my lovely you need to keep it up! Everyday, trusting in the universe and focusing on your goal to maintain that beautiful platform or social media what you created. This can be you are writing, painting, acting, singing, having a podcast, you motivating people, any kind of beautiful work which is helping people and inspiring them in any shape or form.

This is it. You are becoming an ICON! Are you ready to handle it?

People will want your content what to buy your products and want you to show up! Are you ready to become a busy bee and have your own business?

Becoming self-employed can be challenging but you have every quality traits what you need to handle this. Yes, it will be challenging to maintain a nice and healthy balance within you and outside of you but you are more than ready to do that.

Patience is the key and my lovely I am feeling you mastered this art already!

Let yourself to become the MAIN character in your own life and BE THE STAR! You are ready for the challenge and the BEST is yet to come!

💥Pile 2:

Love!

My lovely the challenge which you are ready to face with is actually falling in love with someone because there will be someone who would like to have you in their arms and nurture you everyday.

Are you ready to be pampered and are you open to receive it?

It might be challenging if your trust and heart were broken before so this is what I am seeing here!

You might wishing for someone, manifesting your future spouse even but when this person would be there in front of you I think you will feel otherwise!

You never experienced this love before! It's not trauma bond is mature, adult, real, passionate, sweet love with all the ups and downs. And I have a hunch when this person will come into your life you might not even going to recognize them because you are not focused on love at all.

I am feeling you will receive this person and at the same time even that you will be open to receive them there will be something which will prevent you to actually feel it and be in the present moment with it!

You might feeling at that time disappointed or you went through so much regarding connections that you do not whish to go too deep with someone and they will recognize it!

I am feeling this person will persuading you and show it to you how much you meant for them by taking actions towards you and walking the talk.

The actual challenge or one of them can be that you will not believe in it or you will think that somehow this will end up like all the other!

So the challenge can be as well to overcome this mindset of yours as well by letting this person to show it to you who they really are and just observing them and concentrating on how this person makes you feel.

Are you feeling safe with them? Are they making you feel seen and heard? How you are feeling the compatibility? Can you see yourself for the long run with this person? Can you connect with them mentally, emotionally? How this person makes you feel when they are looking at you or when they are in your presence? Are you feeling that you can be your true authentic version of you when you are talking with them and they are providing the safe space for you to express yourself of who you are? Are they showing up as the real version of them? What your inner guts feeling is telling to you? Not your fear! I am talking about your intuition here, follow that!

I am feeling this person will put you on the spotlight and you might not going to appreciate it or just avoiding it, you might going to even reject this person because you think is just too good to be true or it's not going to turn out good anyway.

The challenge is that don't judge a book by it's cover here my lovely and you will know what I am talking about when the time will come!

🦋Pile 3:

Interesting!

For you pile 3 I am going to be honest, the challenge is that to just live your life to the fullest and loving of who you are!

It will be a very peaceful period of time of your life where you are entering next and you might have a hard time to not think about the worst outcome or when is the next challenge will come because they will not!

You are entering in your good karma phase!

I am feeling you are the pile who overcame so many things in their life and ready to retire!

This is what I am feeling here! You might going to have a chance to retire earlier even or life will be just so calm, loving and nurturing towards you. You will feel emotionally content and fulfilled!

This can be that you will feel that you achieved what you wanted in this life and you just want to feel good and that's it!

The challenge will be my lovely for you to let this love to just surround you every day and not being so focused on the day to day low vibration anymore.

My lovely your journey and the challenge which will come with it will be you just being and enjoying what this life can gave to you!

You are rising and ascending and the past is no longer holding you back on your journey anymore so just let mother Gaia to show it to you how the Earth and living in this planet can be without any struggle or withouth constant worrying and stress.

You are going to have a chance to rediscover yourself again and start brand new even if you want to!

Are you ready to enter the winning phase of your life?

Sounds good yes? 👍🏻☺️😊

You might going to be in disbelief how everything is changing around you or turning out in the best way.

So many surprises are waiting for you in this journey and I am feeling you will feel excited and at the same time you will feel like you are unstoppable.

The universe will got your back and everything will turn out in your favour. You are gaining and claiming back your manifestation power and you will feel energized again.

Like every wish of yours will be granted because you are so aligned with your soul.

No more setbacks no more obstacles!

You might find it scary at first that everything turning out for you and manifesting in you life much more faster and effectively than before.

I am feeling the challenge will be here for to accept this change and realize that you don't need to struggle or chase just to manifest or attract something in your life.

Right place, right time, right people and you will be in the centre of it!

[mxtantrights]

mob!bucky wants to try out some freaky positions!

ONE YEAR LATER

As you stir the milk into your coffee you can hear the soft padding of feet coming your way. You don't have to turn around to guess who it is. Only he likes to walk around on cold floors with bare feet.

"Mornin' my precious wife." he says from behind you with a groggy morning voice.

Almost enough to get you to stop what you're doing and drag him back to the bedroom. Almost. You needed to get to work. There's a big client coming in to talk about an acquisition contract.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close into him. You lean into him, head resting back against his shoulder. He smells like a quick shower. Which is the smell of something pine-y and woodsy.

You're also being mindful not to spill the coffee-he'd take any excuse to keep you here. You'd like it just as much as him. But you really should get to work.

He kisses your cheek once, then twice.

"Busy day?" he asks.

You nod, "I'm needed in the office. Closing a contract."

"I'll let you go, if you promise me all of tomorrow." he whispers into the shell of your ear. Then he's kissing the spot right there.

You close your eyes, "It's my day off. That's a given. I'm not too sure about you."

"I cleared my schedule."

"I don't think that's how your job works." you joke.

He places a kiss to your shoulder. You can feel the stubble on his face more prominent. You maybe have told him that you liked it in passing. He's maintained it since.

"Lucky thing I'm the boss."

You pull away from him and turn around with a smirk, "Not my boss. Who is expecting me at work on time."

He raises his hands up as if to surrender any control.

"I only go along with what you want, you know this already." he smiles.

"yes yes, good husband." you peck his lips and reach for your coffee from behind you.

It's in a to-go cup. You're basically out the door already. You just have to make it past Bucky. Your sweet, honest, ravenous husband. The word husband is the word the sends a shiver down your spine.

Husband. In every sense of the word.

He pouts, "I'll just be here. Waiting. Bored. All day."

"Oh I'm sure Steve could help you with that." you remark.

Steve had his hands busy with becoming a new boss. Brock didn't deserve it, he never did. It was only right that after he, took a long walk into an ocean, that his assets were given to the right person.

That had been Steve. Who had that talent for this life. A heavy but gentle hand. He knows the ins and outs of the business from his years under Bucky. And he's got something new to give.

Honestly you're a bit thankful he took the offer. The moment he almost caught you and Bucky in a flexible position in this very kitchen, you wanted to shrivel up and cringe. He couldn't look you in the eye for a few days after.

But now he doesn't have to worry about running into you and Bucky in incorrigible situations.

"Speaking of, tomorrow is gonna be a double date kind of thing. You and me and Steve and his new girlfriend." Bucky speaks.

"I didn't know he had a girlfriend, that's sweet." you comment.

"It's Sharon."

Your eyes go wide. Sharon? From your Job, Sharon? What the hell? Well, actually that made sense. When he was following you you noticed that he'd show up a bit earlier before you went to work and stay later way past when you left.

Sharon. Huh.

"Good for him. And I will see you later tonight." you say with a pat to his chest.

Then you side step him and head towards the door. Your platform boots clicking against the floor. You can hear him trailing behind you, can practically feel it too.

"'round about what time? Lunch?" he asks.

You laugh, "James! I said tonight!"

"12pm is night."

"No it isn't!" you snicker.

"It is now."

You shake your head as you reach the front door. Your hand wraps around the knob. Just as you're about to twist and pull it open, you turn yourself around.

Bucky is standing face to face with you. A smile on his face. You reach up and grab the back of his neck with your hand, pulling him toward you.

Your lips connect with his in an open mouth kiss. It's hot and not at all dry. His hands tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you right into his chest.

You pull away first, "I'll see you tonight. I love you."

He pecks your lips.

"I love you too."

[cindol]

Can you do a Connie with shy bimbo reader, and she's Ony sister that is off limit🙏🏿

Connie with a shy bimbo reader who’s also ony’s lil sister !

cw— reader is 23, Connie is 25, ma is used as a pet name, smut, pussy eating, clit sucking, cowgirl position,

a/n: usually don’t write this type of fics but hope u enjoy nonetheless anon 💙

wc: 1309 words

tags- @euphoricbi

The moment he saw shy!bimbo reader he wanted her. As Onyankopon introduced her with her by his side introducing her to the whole gang he just zoned out looking at her. He eyed her from the white earmuffs, pink sweater that matched with her comfortable looking pink skirt that fit her snug around her bottom and knee length pink platform boots.

Anything onyankopon was saying was going out one ear and out the other. When he caught her staring at him he did a small wave at her then smiled at her gasping then looking back down at the floor. He finally snapped out when onyankopon stopped his speech.”Hopefully you all welcome my lil sis nicely, she’s a part of the gang now yes?” Connie snorted at that, she was gonna be a part of the gang somehow by him

Connie didn’t respect onyankopon’s rule of her being off limits at all. When Onyankopon was in the living room chatting with all the other boys he snuck after her when he saw her head upstairs to the bathroom. He was gonna give her her own privacy to use the bathroom till he heard some crashing and yelp coming from her. He was hesitant, not wanting to invade her private time in there but concerned nevertheless so he twisted the doorknob opening it to a confused shy!bimbo reader on the floor with tissue on her face and shoes and what looked like toothpaste in her wig.

If this was anyone else he would’ve busted out laughing like he always does but came forward to her helping her up.”quite a fall huh?” She just trembled her lip pouting.”tried washing my hands.. heard toothpaste has like the same ingredients as regular soap.”

He sighed chuckling.”and where’d you hear that? Reddit?” “Mhm!” He nearly choked on his words from her simple hum and laughed taking the tissue off and kneeling down to the tissue off her boots then coming up to look at her hair, at the top was obvious white Colgate paste on her head.”never trust Reddit baby, now c'mon.. gotta convince your big bro somehow that this isn’t my fault even though it ain’t.”

shy!bimbo reader who sits in her brother's SUV while Connie gets told off by him. She didn’t know what words were exchanged but obviously harsh ones with onyankopon’s body language from her view of watching it through a window.

“Just stay away my little sister con, I know how you get. I don’t want your hands poisoning her.” Connie snorted.”I have no plans of “corrupting” her ‘kopon, was just helping the girl out. You should really teach her sense of direction and her surroundings because who knew how she would’ve ended up if I wasn’t around?”

Onyankopon just sighed touching the brim of his nose.”Just, stay away, yes? I know how you and eren can be so don’t try anything sneaky.” Connie waved him off groaning in a low voice then waving at y/n again when he caught her staring at him.

shy!bimbo reader didn’t listen to onyankopon’s warning at all and neither did Connie as they both found some way to get to know each other behind his back until he finally started to invite her to his house. On her first invite she was shy, hesitating to step inside and leave the front door. It was cute to Connie making him chuckle and lead her in by the small of her back.”Cmon ma, don’t be shy, come out that shell and c'mon in I won’t bite.”

shy!bimbo reader slowly but surely got comfortable with Connie with him showing and teaching her more things. When she told him how she never wanted to dress more proactive, not wanting to seem ‘easy’ he made a clicking sound with his tongue at that.”Bullshit, dress as nasty and inappropriate as you please, real men find that hot.” He said putting emphasis on hot, making her pouty lips make a o shape at that.

shy!bimbo reader for sure took his word though. Making his jaw drop when she would show up in a crop top pink jacket showing her belly and low waist jeans and a dark brunette straight lace with a more excited smile than a shy one at his foot step. Connie has a dry mouth before clearing his throat saying,”you look real different baby.”

shy!bimbo reader was always doing something to tease him now too and Connie couldn’t blame anyone but himself for teaching her these things. He was always caught by surprise when she would jump onto him when he was laying down and come in contact with his bulge making him groan whilst she giggled with a acrylic hand on her mouth. It was all playful to her in a way.”scared you didn’t I con?” While he was just groaning.”scared the damn pants off me nearly..” he mumbled under his breath.

shy!bimbo reader experiments more with connie. When they’re vibing she gets quiet at a flashing sex scene in a movie on the living room Tv and Connie could tell smirking at her when she looked away with her legs squished together.”That got you hot baby?” wrapping a hand around her waist for full effect.”hm?” He adds for full effect making her slowly nod and look at him.

“Wanna tell me what part you liked?” He paused the movie to stop the loud exaggerating moans coming from the flatscreen Tv. She bit her finger before answering.”liked the part where like.. he had her shoulders on his legs and had her screaming.” Connie’s hands started to inch towards her thighs.”oh yeah? Want me to do that huh baby?” His hands reached her inner thighs making her shiver a little and nod.

shy!bimbo reader gets whiny when Connie eats her out. Making whines and soft moans scratching at connie’s buzzcut head with her legs on his shoulders flailing around as he just eats so sloppily.”connieee!” He chuckled at how she was so lost in pleasure that she called him the wrong name and his laughter vibrated inside her pussy making her moan out and cry more arching her back onto the bed. When he pulls out tricks like tonguing and licking her clit it’s too much for her and her vision gets blurry letting out a final high moan and cumming.

shy!bimbo reader found out exactly what she liked doing with Connie especially in sex and that was riding him in the cowgirl position. She wouldn’t admit it because of Connie's teasing but it made her feel powerful to see him unravel from how she would ride him with her hands on his chest and her ass slapping right down everytime. His groans would turn into moans with him having to grip onto her waist to control himself.”Ugh fuck! m-ma! Slow down!” a stutter in his voice and his face just flushed unlike his usual cocky and joking self.

Y/n just continued to slam herself down onto him.”Mmph no! Y-you’re-ah!- pay back for always teasin’ and picking on me!” She did this until all was heard was moans groans and high moans erupting from them.

shy!bimbo reader started getting even more bold in public with him outside of just things inside his room. She didn’t deliberately say she’s shacked up with Connie but there were hints. The way she giggled at his jokes whenever he was around at onyankopon’s house always got some good eyebrow raises from Jean eren and armin.

Once onyankopon left the room for a quick moment they were quick to stare at Connie and Connie just stuck his tongue out and shrugged his shoulders.”What ony don’t know won’t hurt him.”

[hanasnx]

mordecai seems like the type to say ily during missionary accidentally

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: the header is from @/teefumz on tiktok and instagram. i couldn’t find anything about their rules on reposts used for personal reasons such as this which is why i really stress go check out the original artist on their platforms linked. WARNINGS: human!mordecai | situationship | fwbs | explicit sexual content | praise | missionary | love confession.

"You're so hot, you're so fucking hot, I can't believe we're hooking up." MORDECAI murmurs, making your body bob with the force of his ruts. You can't help but snicker at him a little, tangling your fingers in his faded dyed blue hair as you let the pleasure carry you through it. He's gotten better at fucking you, ending the tumultuous session with a softer missionary. Sweetly, his lips press a messy trail from your ear to your neck and shoulder, burying his heated face in your skin as he savors the feeling of being this close to you.

"Right there, Kai, right there," you sigh, clutching onto him as you adjust underneath him, letting the angle do the work as he slowly sinks in and out. Your nails scrape his scalp, and tingles travel down his entire body, bottoming out with a snap, groaning in your ear. "You're so big, you know that?" you praise him with a curl to your lips, letting them brush the shell of his ear. "Never had anyone as big as you. You feel so good." Affectionately, you stroke down his hair, whispering your praises to keep him happy. You're not sure why you're so endeared by him, something about him—especially right now—draws you to be sweet on him.

A hand tucks under your knee, pushing your leg back to stretch you out. You gasp from the new sensation, letting him fit you around him by maneuvering you. "'Wanna cum, 'wanna cum so bad..." he murmurs, "M'close."

You brace yourself, angling your pelvis and holding him close, "Go ahead, Kai, c'mon," The pace hastens, a tremble in his pelvis, his chipped black fingernails digging into your skin as if to keep you exactly where you need to be.

Pathetic whimperings emit from his closed lips, squeezing the breath out of you as he works himself to the edge. "I..." Panting against your neck, he can barely get a word out. "I... love... you." he speaks between his ministrations. "I love... you. I love you," he says quicker, picking it up with his hips. You tense, your pussy closes up, it contracts from the shock but he uses it to his advantage. "Fuck—I love this pussy, I love you." You mutter a pitiful "Kai." but he doesn't hear you, moaning as he's lost in the feeling.

You fist his hair, yanking it to demand his attention. "Mordecai." you warn.

"I..." Broken out of his stupor, he slows to a stop. "I'm... I'm sorry. Uh," He props himself up on his elbows, emerging from the safety of your neck, a shade of vulnerability pink on his cheeks in the dull light, wide eyes meeting yours. "I'm sorry I didn't mean that. I don't know why I said that."

[p-eachbeam]

what i can't comprehend about the whole watcher fiasco is why they're in a rush to completely pull away from youtube when it's very clear that their company isn't a position to do so yet.

this is a four-year-old company who should be building more value to the watcher entertainment name. at this stage of their careers, they should be honed in on building a bigger and more consistent content library, reeling in more viewers, and finding ways to make watcher a household name.

but right now, they don't make enough content to justify a completely separate, paywalled streaming platform. they pump out new shows and new seasons every month, but their upload schedule is so sparse they can't even afford to upload new content for a full week.

and as much as this hurts to say, they don't even have a big enough audience to justify this decision. to the general public, they're still better known by the work they've done under a famous media conglomerate rather than the work they do now. that's not a good thing when you want to pull away from the biggest video sharing platform.

as someone who has been content creation adjacent for most of my professional career, the desire to be less reliant on sponsorships and make high-caliber content in a way that's sustainable is valid. i'm with them on this one. i want my favorite creators to be able to create the content they love without worrying about how they're going to pay their staff and how they're putting food on their table.

i'm just failing to understand how this is going to work out for them when a good chunk of their audience isn't in a position to shell out money for a streaming service. i don't know how they're going to find people who want to pay for watcher tv when their existing fanbase can't even see the value of their streaming service.

people more knowledgeable than i have pointed out that there are many ways for them to find people who are willing to pay to see the television caliber content they've wanted to make from the day they launched without pushing out the people who've also been there from the very start but don't have the financial means to follow them into this new stage of their company.

idk. i think i'm just more upset at how it seems like they didn't even try to find a middle ground between their vision and their audience.

[ask-private-141]

A huge Thank you!

CW: mentions of SA, r@pe, severe anxiety, depression, SH and ED

Below cut! ^

This is just a big thank you to sum this all up, but i go into detail of my severe social anxiety! As you know! I’m Natalie, which i usually go by Ari myself, but I wanted to step into new waters and get out of My fearful shell. Hence this ask blog! Under the cut I’ve also named some WONDERFUL people who also run blogs such as mine that I love and aspire myself to. Please go give them all some love and a follow! A huge thank to you all! 💕💋 Mwah!

Hi everyone! It’s Nat, I know this isn’t like me, but I really want to thank you all, from those who have joined and left to those who’ve stayed here in our little corner of the tumblr internet, I’m Natalie, I have several social anxiety and i usually hide by the veil of Ari, my online persona. Over the years I’ve tried more and more to come out of my shell. And this account has helped so much. I struggle sometimes, but I’ve taken great care of myself here lately. I’m a victim of COCSA, and r@pe, and have struggled socially even online. This was a big step for me to make this account. And I can’t thank all my friends and acquaintances here enough. I’ve went from bed rotting, and SH, and an ED to, sober of all of that. Which I haven’t been in a long time. I know this is kinda dark, but for me, I see the light. I see the light that I’ve made it through this, and that I know I can do it. Again thank you my followers, and my friends and mutuals so much. You all inspired this.

And from Ari, I love you all so much! My crew and beyond! And to all my fans and followers! A big big biggggg hug, kiss, or cuddle! And if you don’t like physical touch? An air kiss! My greatest thanks. To everyone. For helping grow this platform big and tall! Mwah! 💋 💕

Your favorite otter loving girl!

-Ari!

-END CUT!-

To all my lovely lady’s lads and other pronoun loves! And the people I look up to!

@ghost-askblog @ask-alex-keller @ask-soapmactavish @soap-askblog @jeanzoriley-cod @cod-hr-admin @ask-philgraves @ask-phillip-graves @konig-askbox @konigisking @orangecatonbase @shadow-medic-4-08 @shadow-5-05 @shadow-compay-secretary @shadowcompanys-medic-beaks @valera-askblog @las-almas-border-patrol @johnprice-asks @price-askblog @ask-gaz @ask-roachsanderson

(I ADDED YOU ROACH I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT) 😔 lmk if I forgot anyone else cause I love LOVE you guys!)

Please if you haven’t follow and like all these lovely’s! I love and aspire to be as lovely as these friends of mine! Love you al!

[lilithsterrarium]

It slowly limped forward, bare feet slapping gently against the cold, metal flooring of the platform. Its body was pale, ribs poking out of it's skin, a large, cheap gown hung around it's shoulders. Just beneath the cut of it's gown, it's thighs were branded with a series of numbers, black ink standing in stark contrast to it's milky-white skin. It's arms were wrapped in bandages, a few leaking blood. It's feet, entirely bare, shook like leaves in the wind, threatening to topple over at any given moment. A gloved hand gently held it's shoulder, guiding it towards it's Shell.

It's eyes, hollow and blank, lit up ever so slightly when it saw the familiar sight. The head of it's mech stood, cockpit agape, ready for a mission. It liked how it's mech looked. The camera systems used for it's surveilance looked like bulging, bug-like eyes. The "mouth" of it formed pincer-like formations, steel bent into sharp angles to resemble a set of pincers. Jutting metal rods stuck out from the top, useful not only for picking up signals, but also resembled antennae. It smiled weakly. It didn't quite remember why, but it's Shell's appearance made it happy. It slowly, weakly crawled inside.

It sat in it's seat, the smell of sweat and blood from it's last mission entirely swept away. It was sterile, clean; it reeked of chemicals. It leaned back, feeling the familiar click of wires into it's spine, the familiar buzz of electricity shooting through it's veins as it slowly got settled. Above it, a small radio system crackled to life. The husky voice of it's handler was loud, almost painfully so; and it smiled at the sound. It had requested the audio be turned up. It sounded like it's handler was looming, her voice booming around her. It gently settled back as more wires snapped into place.

"Hello dear. You seem to be happy; I managed to talk them into those changes you asked for. I hope this is loud enough for you."

It nodded.

"Lovely. Listen, this one shouldn't be too hard, okay? Just settle in, be a good girl. This is always the hardest part, you can do it."

It felt the lurching Shell move forward, autopiloted to get to a spot where it could take direct control. It let out a small whine when it remembered what was coming. It hated this part.

The final wires snapped into place as the vision systems came to life, a massive periphery of the city enviornment around it. The view from it's Shell was so, so high up. Automated vehicles darted beneath it's feet like insects, as the war machine lurched to life. Buildings, large obelisks of glass and metal stood at the same height as it's shell. It squirmed in it's seat, making that same whining noise. It saw people. People. People were so small compared to it. That wasn't right. It was supposed to be small. It wasn't supposed to be big. This was wrong, it was all wrong. It was all too aware of the space it took up, how people hurridly moved away from it. It was large, it was massive, it was a monster. It's eyes welled with tears as it saw what it's mech saw, looking down at a world far, far smaller than itself.

It's frantic thoughts were finally put to an end as the sharp point of a needle slowly punctured it's arm. It felt... sluggish... but in a good way. Like it was dreaming. Like nothing was real. It squirmed, not noticing the cock standing fully erect from under it's gown. It whined, but felt compelled to work. It could obey. It could do this. It could finish the mission. It hardly noticed the tears under it's eyes as it began it's work piloting the collosal Shell.

"Theeeeere you go. Good girl. I promise, we'll make you feel all nice and small again soon."