#bodily decline

[green-with-envy-phandom-event]

@jamiethebeeart's GORE color of @crunchyplastic's line art!

[economicsresearch]

how long have you been here?

I do not know!!!!!!!!

It's very frustrating.

But there are many blog posts published and a general wasting about me, so carrying the one my calculations suggest the answer is too long.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[ernestbruce]

Poison Critical podcast

[spacelazarwolf]

i think if we’re going to have conversations about consent we should talk about how consenting to something doesn’t necessarily mean it’s going to be a good experience, and having a bad experience doesn’t necessarily mean someone violated your consent. this can apply to a lot of situations but the two i’m thinking of right now are sex and transition.

you’re getting it on with someone. you enthusiastically consent to having sex with them. afterward, you feel a little weird about it. maybe even distressed. maybe they did something you didn’t enjoy and in the moment you just didn’t say anything. maybe you just realized after the fact that you were not in a good headspace for sex and now your mental health is declining. that doesn’t inherently mean the person you had sex with violated your consent. sometimes it just means you need to take a break from sex or work on communicating your needs or boundaries better during sex.

and with transition, i feel like this is something that gets consistently overlooked but like. there will never be zero detransitioners. there will always be people who decide that actually transition wasn’t right for them. they could have had the best most thorough doctors in the world who did everything by the book and got full informed consent at every step. and some people are still going to decide they don’t like the changes and wish they hadn’t transitioned. that doesn’t mean that the doctors violated their consent, and that doesn’t mean that transition shouldn’t be available to anyone. it just means that we need to have more resources available for folks who detransition.

regret does not automatically mean someone did something wrong. regret is simply one possible result of having bodily autonomy, and i think we need to get more comfortable with that.

[cravetive]

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗗

✩｡ Pairings: Neighbor!Jungkook x Fem!reader

✩｡ Synopsis: Y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.

✩｡Warnings: Smut! cussing, mentions of masturbation, spanking, doggy style, sex in a public place, unprotected sex (sigh), teasing, creampie, rough sex, pinning, sex toys, sweat and other bodily fluids, a bit of exhibitionism i guess (elevators have cameras), sexual frustration, consensual sex, if you're reading this for the plot don't, there is no plot.

✩｡ Authors Note: lord give me one chance, one chance is all i need.

✩｡ Word Count: 5.k

-

“Are you using it right now?”

“Yes, it’s a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.”

“Omg! Are you in public?!”

“I just made a quick run to the convenience store for a few snacks.”

“Oh, you’re brave” Mina, Y/n’s friend spoke through the phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder. Y/n sighed, grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the front of the store. “it’s in low mode anyways, it just feels like I’m riding the bus on an unpaved street” Y/n laughed whilst placing her items onto the counter for the cashier to scan.  

“I've never had anyone try it out in public, this is exciting!” Y/n rolled her eyes and scanned her card, grabbing her receipt and bag before stepping out of the convenience store and into the scorching sun of July.

“Relax I’ll be home in like 3 seconds” Y/n huffed, wiping some of the sweat beaming on her forehead. Having been locked in her air-conditioned apartment for the last 2 days had caused her to forget the heat wave that had taken over the city in the last week and it didn’t matter that she was wearing her shortest summer dress because she felt like she was boiling alive.

“Okay, just remember you can change the motions and speed on the app, but I would recommend you start off slow so that you can adjust” Mina spoke urgently on the phone, but Y/n could only focus on her apartment building as it came into view, her flip flops dragging against the pavement as she took hurried steps. “Yes, yes just know that you owe me big time!” Y/n yelled into the phone.

Y/n wasn’t experimental in any aspect of her life, she liked what she liked, and she knew what she didn’t. Her life was simple, boring as Mina would describe it, but she preferred it that way, it had worked out for her, and she didn’t see the need to stray from it. which had only made her that much more apprehensive when Mina came to her with the proposition of testing out one of the new sex toys her company was developing.

Y/n didn’t like the idea at all, and she had even readied herself to decline but upon noticing the desperation in Mina’s eyes that late afternoon she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Y/n first-handedly witnessed how hard Mina had worked on this project and she couldn’t be the reason behind its failure which had led her to reluctantly accept. It had only taken 4 days for the package to be delivered to her front door, the small box containing the pink bullet vibrator Mina had designed which was now nestled between her legs.

“I will kiss the ground you walk on after this!” Mina promised on the other end of the call which caused Y/n to laugh as she stepped into her building. her feet shuffled as she leaned forward to tap on the elevator button and She subconsciously pressed her legs together as she stood waiting for the doors to open, the low vibrations from the toy leaving her a bit out of breath.

“Alright, I’ll call you back later on” Y/n huffed which caused Mina to giggle on the other end.

“Hot and bothered already?” Mina joked which caused Y/n’s already flushed cheeks to deepen in color.

“Shut up, it’s the heat” Y/n yelled as she watched the elevator doors open.

“sureeeee” Mina teased which led Y/n to end the call without further explanation.

She stepped into the small space and pressed the button to her floor before standing all the way back into the corner, her back pressed into the mirrored wall behind her. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched the elevator doors close slowly. she didn’t understand the buzz behind these sex toys or this market, the bullet wasn’t even doing anything to stimulate her and if she was honest, the vibration alone was starting to irritate her.

Y/n was sure her hand could do a better job.

“Hold it!” a voice shouted which caused Y/n to snap out of her frustrated trance, she reached forward and stopped the doors from shutting. The voice’s owner rushed inside, and Y/n took in his flustered appearance as he turned back to thank her. She recognized him as the man who lived 2 doors away from her and was notoriously known for his loud parties and for the woman who came and went from his apartment. It had been more than a few times she had found herself knocking on his door at 3 am due to the loud music.

And if it wasn’t for the fact that the guy was easy on the eyes she probably would’ve already complained to management.

 His name is Chun-woo? Jungkook? Something like that she thought.

Y/n offered him a small and awkward smile before pressing herself against the wall once again. She rarely ever interacted with any of the residents in the building and today would not be the exception. She was already hot and sweaty and all she wanted to do was to get to her cool air-conditioned apartment and binge on her delicious snacks.

“It’s really hot outside” the man commented, tapping on the button that Y/n had already pressed earlier. She dragged her eyes over to his back and hummed, nodding her head in agreement.

“you’re from apartment 902 right?” He glanced back at her, and she noticed the piercing that wrapped around the end of his bottom lip, she had never stood as close to him to notice it before and for some reason it only made him appear that much more handsome.

“Yeah” she smiled, squirming in the small space in which she stood.

Within the silence that soon overtook the small elevator, she could hear the way the man struggled to catch his breath, having fallen victim to the heat wave outside. His long black hair had stuck to the dampened skin of his forehead and his broad shoulders rose and fell as the elevator began to ascend.

Y/n tried to focus her eyes on the floor beneath her and not on the man who stood there with his back now turned to her but ever so often she would find herself staring at the white loose fitted t-shirt he wore, drenched with his sweat. She also tried to stop herself from biting down on her bottom lip while she noticed the muscles that pressed from the thin material around his shoulders while subconsciously rubbing her legs together.

It was rude to stare, she knew that, but the elevator was so crammed there were only so many alternative places she could look, and he was so tall, so broad and his tattooed arm called for her attention, the intricate colors and patterns leaving her in a trance…she blinked quickly, her cheeks turning crimson from the thoughts flooding through her mind.

She opted to stare at the ceiling instead, noticing the way the bright lights would flicker subtly as the elevator continued to climb levels, and then suddenly there came a pulsation from between her legs, one that was probably already there but she hadn’t been able to notice before. Her eyes widened in horror as her mind registered the cause and her hand reached for her phone in urgency as the small vibrations from the small toy caused a faint sound inside the compact space.

“Do you hear that?” Jungkook spoke, turning to look at a very disheveled Y/n, she looked back to him in pure embarrassment, her fingers frantically searching for the app her best friend had downloaded onto her phone. 

“Mhm? Ah No, I think it’s the elevator” she giggled nervously and Jungkook nodded, biting down on his lip and turning to face the elevator doors once again.

Y/n had forgotten all about the small object that lowly vibrated inside of her, which was now causing her clit to pulsate painfully under her black thong. Her hands shook as she pressed on the pink icon shining through her screen, and her eyes scanned the app quickly trying to find the off button on the small evil little thing stuck inside her pussy.

“fuck” she breathed as sweat beads began to form on her skin.

The panic running through her body didn’t allow her to focus on the small words in front of her, no matter how hard she squinted. Her fingers continued to urgently press against random buttons, trying to shut off the damn thing but all she had accomplished was for it to change motions, going from a light vibration to full-on pumping. She covered her mouth in shock at the new movement and gripped the handrailing on her side for support.

“how the fuck- “she groaned.

“What was that?” Jungkook asked, looking at her through the reflection on the doors and for a moment she loathed how attentive this man was.

Y/n could only shake her head, her hand trembling against her phone while she tried to overpower the sensation taking over her body.

She had underestimated the damn thing, thinking all would be good if she kept it at a low tempo, who even goes to the store with a sex toy in their pussy? She cursed herself for the irrational idea.

She stared at the screen in concentration, soon finding the pulse button and beginning to tap on it frantically but the thing wouldn’t budge and soon she felt the speed increase. Her mouth widened in horror; her eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations rocked through her body in waves and soon her breaths became extremely uneven. She hoped and prayed her neighbor wouldn’t notice but Jungkook watched from the distorted reflection in front of him at how much she struggled to stay still.

She was sure the universe hated her, she must have been paying for some karmic event she had forgotten about because there was no way in hell this was happening to her.

Suddenly almost as if in coordination, the elevator began to tremble underneath her feet and then her eyes opened wide, was this a figment of her imagination? Was this a silly joke being played on her by the gods? Was this punishment for experimenting with her sex life?

The elevator shook uncontrollably causing Y/n to lose grip of the railing, she fell onto the floor with a loud thud, her bag of snacks ripping open and spilling its contents on the floor. The lights above her flickered on and off and then everything stopped.

Her heart, the rocking of the floor, her brain, and even the elevator came to an abrupt halt but not the vibrations between her legs, it was the only thing that remained as her body squirmed on the floor from the pulsations erupting from her clit.  

“What the fuck” Jungkook muttered as he held onto one of the railings, his arms strained with veins running under the skin as he was too shaken by the sudden tremble.

“Did we just have an earthquake?” he exclaimed while his eyes trailed to the spot where Y/n once stood but she was no longer there and then his eyes trailed down, where he found Y/n thrown across the floor along with her snacks. Jungkook let go of the railing and reached for her limp body in an attempt to help her.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, taking a step towards her but Y/n squirmed, backing into the wall behind her.

“Hey, relax” he spoke, his voice but a whisper as he grabbed onto her arm and lifted her off from the floor. She whimpered as he brought her back onto her feet, her hands holding onto his forearms for support.

“I think we’re stuck” he concluded, unable to feel the motion of the elevator beneath his feet. Y/n didn’t say a word, afraid that her attempts at speaking would demonstrate the utter pleasure she was in, and she was mortified. Jungkook noticed the way she slightly trembled underneath his touch, her eyes looking up at his in fear and then an urgency to calm her came over him.

“don’t worry, we can just call someone to help us” he removed his eyes from the agitated woman and scanned the panel at the side of the door, reaching to tap on the red button at the very end. Y/n could only focus on 2 things, the wetness that soon pooled through the thin fabric of her panties and the feeling of his hand on her arm.

His hands were big and soft, and she could feel the small callouses on his palm pressing against her skin. She had to get out of this situation and quickly, she could feel the pressure building in her gut and it was familiar to the one she always got when pleasuring herself during late nights.

She was going to come.

She should’ve been focused on the elevator, on trying to get out of the cramped space, and not on coming undone in front of her neighbor from 2 doors down while he held her. She pushed aside her current desires and removed her eyes from Jungkook's hand on her arm. She carefully scanned the floor for her cell phone and once in her view, she bent down to collect it, her hand fumbling with the device as she picked it up from the floor.

When she turned it over, her heart plummeted. The screen had cracked completely, a few pieces of glass missing, and the screen blinked in different colors in front of her. at that very moment, she wished the elevator would plummet down to her death, she gasped for air as the realization hit her that the only other option she had was to remove the little bullet herself, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.

What would her neighbor think? She would have to move from the building entirely to escape from the humiliation alone. What would she even say? oh, hey yeah hold on a minute let me remove my SEX TOY from my vagina…she was mortified.

Her attention was drawn back to the elevator in which she stood as a voice appeared from within the small speaker inside the panel and her heart skipped a beat at the sudden relief that someone would come to help her leave this hellish predicament.

“Sun tower, how can we help you?”

“Uh yea, listen we’re stuck in the elevator” Jungkook spoke his hand reaching to wipe away some of the sweat forming on his face.

“Oh yes sir, sorry about that the building has lost power due to the heat but no worries we are working on the issue, and the elevator should be up and running in no time” Y/n groaned in frustration, deciding it would be best to move away from Jungkook’s touch entirely and found her place back to the corner of the elevator.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jungkook sighed, growing frustrated with the entire situation.

“Mhmm, it should take about an hour” the person informed.  Y/n jolted in surprise, An hour!? Y/n wouldn’t be able to hold off for an hour. Her legs were trembling, and her heart was beating abnormally fast against her chest. She knew her body and she had a good 5 minutes at best.  She ran to the speaker, attempting to focus on controlling her body as she screamed into it in desperation.

“No sir” she moaned, her teeth coming down to bite down harshly on her lips as she attempted to contain herself “You don’t understand I need to get out of here!” her hands held onto the elevator panel for dear life, and she was almost at the verge of tears. “Sorry ma’am we are doing everything we can” Her breaths were uneven as she retracted from the wall, her hands falling by her sides in defeat.

Jungkook noticed the way she struggled to breathe, her chest heaving as she attempted to bring oxygen to her lungs and his eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Hey, are you okay” he asked again, taking a few steps towards her but Y/n raised her hands, her stare darkened and blurred. “Please just stay on that side” she panted, her legs pressing together once again as she battled with another moan that sat on her tongue.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Jungkook asked and oh how Y/n wished that was the reason her body convulsed in the way it did now, her extremities shaking at the feeling of the sex toy vibrating inside of her.

“I-i” she whimpered, attempting to form words but her brain was too consumed by the pumping between her legs, her hands reaching to force her hips from buckling at the feeling. She promised herself she would never speak to Mina again, this was all her fault, she didn’t even want to do this and now she was masturbating in front of this complete stranger. She leaned over and her mouth fell wide open, a loud yelp falling from within.

“woah” Jungkook rushed to her side, his hands reaching to give her support but that only caused her to shiver, the stimulation of both the toy and the man holding her throwing her into complete disarray.

“What is that buzzing sound?” Jungkook asked again, his eyes falling on the floor in an attempt to find the source, but he was met with bags of chips and bottles of water. He focused his hearing on the sound, it was faint, but it was there, and it was driving him crazy. He followed the sound and once his eyes reached the exposed skin of Y/n legs, he looked up into her eyes in surprise.

She looked back at him in embarrassment, her face reddened in shame as sweat trickled down her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore or to try to explain how she wasn’t a sex addict of some sort, she could no longer control what was happening, deciding that she was no match against the orgasm that would soon rock through her.

“Are you? - “his eyes looked into hers and a moan escaped her lips in response. His body tensed at the realization, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers, entranced by the way she trembled underneath his hands. “Is that?” he gulped looking back down to her shaking legs.

“ah fuck” Y/n moaned, burying her face into his chest, the action causing Jungkook’s heart to leap out of its position. he should’ve been focusing on the predicament they were in, how it would take an hour for the apartment to get them out of there, how hot it had gotten in the cramped space, but he could only think about the girl who was coming undone in his arms, soft pants and moans erupting from her lips into his chest.

“My phone” she whimpered “Ah my phone is broken” She gripped his arms trying to regain control of her body but it was no use, she had been pushed past her limit and she could feel her arousal drip from between her legs.

Jungkook couldn’t ignore the way her whimpers caused goosebumps on his skin, the way her soft moans called upon his member to rise and press against the fabric of his underwear. It was wrong and he knew it, she was vulnerable and unraveling in front of him, but he couldn’t fight it, he was salivating at the thought of what her pussy would look like underneath the skirt of her dress, he imagined it glistening with her juices as the toy moved inside of her and his dick quivered underneath the constraints of his clothes.

“Can I-? “He whispered his half-lidded eyes glancing into hers with lust and desperation.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook gulped, his body tensing at the question. He wouldn’t be surprised if she pushed him back and screamed at him, in under different circumstances he probably wouldn’t have been so upfront, but they had an hour to kill and it almost pained him to see her like this, the toy not being able to assist her in the way he knew he could.

It took a moment too long for Y/n to realize what he was asking, it was not like she was even in the right state of mind to think over anything at that moment yet, she nodded her head miserably, her eyes shutting as another wave of pleasure ran through her body whilst she permitted him to assist her.

“Shhh don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” Jungkook whispered into her ear which lured a moan out of her lips.

He moved in front of her, and his eager mouth found hers, their lips melting as they slid against each other, Jungkook felt the warmth of her skin as she pressed her body into his and his hands snaked along the fabric of her short dress. She was so complaint, so willing and it was driving him over the edge. He responded by pressing his body against hers and she soon felt Jungkook’s prominent boner against her lower belly.

She wondered how long he had been that hard, how long was he pondering if he could fuck her…Y/n wasn’t like this, she didn’t think about these things, and she also wasn’t often so eager to fuck a stranger in the elevator. She couldn’t control herself; she needed relief, and she needed it fast.

“mm gonna take it out” Jungkook dragged his lips away from hers with a hum and trailed his fingers down to the hem of her dress. Y/n whimpered as he teased her, his fingers hovering over the skin of her thighs which were tightly pressed together in an attempt to stop her wetness from dripping down her legs.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook whispered, staring back into her eyes with hunger and she was sure that look alone was going to have her spazzing in a short moment.

He guided his hand past her thighs, his fingers brushing by the hem of her panties and hooking his fingers along them, Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at the intrusion, her legs shaking beneath her as he played with the lace material that was between his digits.

“p-please” she begged, her body trembling from the mere anticipation.

Jungkook smirked at the sight before him, he loved the control he had, loved the fact that she needed him. he unhooked his fingers and dipped his hand inside her panties, turning it over so that his palm was now facing her sensitive clit and applied just enough pressure to make her squirm.

“Fuck, you’re wet” Jungkook hissed, his lips finding shelter on the exposed skin of her neck.

“p-please” Y/n whimpered, unable to repress the longing from between her legs.

Jungkook dipped his hand down further, finding the toy embedded between her warm walls, and groaned at the feeling of her juices coating his fingers as he slowly extracted the toy from its rightful home. The pink little object vibrated against his hand, and he chuckled lowly at the feeling, Y/n sighed in relief, perhaps thinking that was the end of her torment.

Her pussy pulsated sorely, her mind clouded by the impending climax that pressed down on her gut and she needed it, she needed it badly. She pulled Jungkook closer and crashed her mouth into his with eagerness. She would often hear the screams of pleasure that poured out of Jungkook’s apartment when she walked past his door and right now, she needed him to help her in the same way.

Y/n reached for the strings of his sweatpants and quickly undid the knot there, pulling them down from his waist and then dipping her hand into his underwear where she found his rock-hard cock, painfully quivering against the material. Jungkook groaned into her mouth, his body lurching forward at the sensation of her warm hand stroking him under his Calvin Kleins.

“fuck” he muttered as he pulled away from her kiss, his eyes fluttering close.

“I want to fuck you so bad” he groaned, his hands reaching to caress her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

“Then fuck me” Y/n moaned, and it didn’t take more than a second for Jungkook to turn her around and press her against the mirror of the elevator, his hands moving quickly to pull down her black thong and throwing it across the floor. He parted her legs and Y/n watched from the reflection as he licked his lips in admiration.

She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into and she sure as hell wasn’t prepared but she didn’t care, she needed his cock inside of her walls and that’s all she could think about.

Jungkook pushed down his underwear, exposing his cock as he gave it a few more pumps before aligning himself to her welcoming pussy. He watched her arousal drip from her core, and he whimpered at the sight. it was all that he had expected and more, he slowly dragged the tip of his cock against her wet folds which caused Y/n to yelp, her hands reaching to grip the handrails for support.

They moaned in unison as he entered her walls, her legs bucking as he began to move himself inside of her. Jungkook moved slowly, patiently waiting for her to adjust to his length but the feeling of her walls gripping him tightly like his dick was meant to be there was urging him to lose control and it didn’t help that he had a full view of her ass while his dick retracted from her pussy ever so slightly.

“f-fuck me harder” she moaned, and Y/n was sure she had never used those words before, but it was all the instructions Jungkook needed to pick up his pace. He began to thrust roughly inside of her, his hands coming down to hold her hips in place, keeping her from moving away as he pounded into her. Y/n leaned her head against the mirror, her mouth wide open as whimpers and moans fell from it.

The small elevator was soon filled with the symphony of moans and skin clashing together, Y/n could feel a burning sensation building as Jungkook kept his tempo, his black locks hanging over his face as he continued to ram into her. his hand came down quickly against her ass cheek, leaving a red imprint there and Y/n screamed in excitement.

“look how good you’re taking it” Jungkook moaned as he watched his wet cock retract and enter into her pussy over and over again. he reached underneath where their bodies remained interlinked and pressed the vibrating bullet that was still in his hand against her clit. Y/n yelped; her eyes fluttering shut at the sudden action.

“Come on, be a good girl, you know you can take it” he hummed his eyes taking in the way he was completely destroying her. He removed his other hand from her hip and reached to grab her arms, pulling them behind her back and pinning them tightly together on her lower back. Y/n shrieked in pleasure, sweat dripping down the sides of her face.

Jungkook moved his hips skillfully as he fucked into her, his eyes remaining on the view of her ass trembling as his cock glistened with her juices. It was beautiful and it only made his cock pulse with anticipation. He bit down on his lip as groans poured from his chest. never in a million years did he ever think he would be fucking his neighbor but never in a million years did he ever want to stop.

Y/n felt her clit vibrate against the toy, the nerves there buzzing with enjoyment. Her arousal dripped from between her legs onto the silicone material and down Jungkook’s hand, but he kept it pressed there while he hammered into her. She didn’t know if she liked it rough but whatever it was, he was doing, she wanted him to keep going.  

“Come for me baby” he moaned, licking his lips as if he was tasting her juices in his mouth. “I know how badly you want to come” his hand came down harshly against her ass cheek again and Y/n responded with a yelp. Y/n was bent over, her tits flowing past her dress and her hair a mess, but she could only focus on the feeling of Jungkook’s balls slapping against her clit, the bullet that worked hard to keep up with Jungkook’s thrusts, and the way this man was fucking her into oblivion.

It felt good, fuck that, it felt amazing.

Jungkook plunged into her pussy with such need, with such desire that she was sure he was close to his climax as well. Y/n’s walls clenched around his cock, urging him to come undone inside of her and Jungkook groaned loudly, his hips beginning to move with a mind of their own as he searched for his own relief.

“Ah'm gonna come” Y/n yelled, her legs giving out from under her as they began to tremble, but Jungkook held her, and gave her the support she needed. He pressed her against the mirror and continued his pace, his eyes trailing to the reflection in front of them.

“Look at us baby, look how good you look while I fuck into you” he whispered into Y/n’s ear, his eyes falling on her hooded eyes and reddened cheeks. Her walls were tight and warm, and he knew he wouldn’t last long, his hand fell on her hip once more, gripping it there while he continued to drive into her quickly. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes from his strained arms, the way his veins stuck out from underneath the skin as he gave her his all, it was almost poetic and that’s all it took for her to reach the peak, her body shuddering against the wall and Jungkook’s chest. Y/n couldn’t hear anything, her eyes falling tightly shut as her orgasm rippled through her body. Her senses were completely gone as she tried to control herself and then there was a sudden warmness dripping from her core, it dripped down her legs and onto the floor.

“Fuck, you squirted baby” Jungkook groaned, his hips buckled and with one last hard thrust, he came into her quenched walls. He let out a trail of curse words Y/n couldn’t make out, too stuck on the way she had unraveled.

She had never felt something so euphoric, and she felt guilty about it.

Jungkook removed the toy that had remained pressed against her clit and threw it on the floor beside them. the bullet buzzed and jolted on the floor before turning off. Y/n blinked her eyes open and stared at the floor in shock, the little fucking thing had finally given out after tormenting her for so long, but she was too high off her orgasm, unable to find any other emotion but relief.

She turned over and looked up at Jungkook, his face was flushed just like hers and sweat dripped from his forehead as he adjusted his dick back in his sweats, a small smirk appearing on his face once he glanced back at her. He reached down to grab her thong and assisted her with slipping it back up her legs, his stare remaining on her. He took in how her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath she took. His fingers glided upward against the sides of her legs as he brought her panties back, his hands landing on the sides of her hips before grabbing the hem of her dress and sliding the fabric down to its rightful place.

Y/n was beyond embarrassed and sore, she didn’t know what to say to the man who had just fucked her literally senseless. Thank You? no that was fucking ridiculous. She reached for her bottle of water and extended her arm out to Jungkook, offering him some refreshment, it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

“Here, drink some” she smiled while Jungkook reached for the bottle, removing the cap and bringing it to his lips, taking a large gulp.

“don’t use those stupid toys anymore, next time just knock on my door” Jungkook muttered, passing her the bottle. Y/n nodded biting down on her lip before taking a drink herself.

“Hello! Is everyone okay? we are coming in to get you out” a voice yelled from outside the elevator doors. They both giggled at each other before innocently standing side by side waiting to be freed from the confined space.  

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[bloozz]

yan!househusband x reader!!

: gn reader , sub househusband , yandere!! , stockholm syndrome , mentions of thighs and bodily fluids in food 

oh~ i’m gonna love you so~ you’ll learn what i already know, i love you means you’re never getting rid of me!

---------

🦈. yan!househusband who loves to cook and clean with you!!

🌊. yan!househusband who is def a thigh guy,, doesn't matter the size or the thickness, just lives to lay on them and give em a squeeze (sometimes a few bite marks)

🦈. yan!househusband who wants kids, biological or adopted doesn't matter (if you don't want kids he'll be a bit sad but he'll settle for a dog or cat)

🌊. yan!househusband who watches cooking tutorials and blasts them from the tv

🦈. yan!househusband who hates when you go to work but he tries to understand because you pay the bills..

🌊. yan!househusband who likes to watch you sleep because it shows you being vulnerable to him

🦈. yan!househusband who's favorite weapon is a knife!! obvi..

🌊. yan!househusband who definitely wants to cum in your food...

🦈. yan!househusband loves to be dominated but if he's very jealous or angry that day.. you won't be able to walk for a day or 2..

you heard some scurrying and pots banging against eachother before your kidnapper wonderful husband came rushing out to give a big hug! he peppered your face in soft kisses and smiled.

🐟 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- ︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

“darling, i’m home!” you yelled while hanging your coat onto a rack. 

“how was work?” he asked while taking your bag. you replied with a hum and gave your husband a small kiss. (he almost came and passed out at the same time)

“one of my workers went missing today.. had to do all his work..” you say while slightly glaring at him. he gave a quick very insincere sorry and went back to hugging you.

“sorry.. don’t be mad.. i made your favourite food!” he took your hand in his and led you towards the kitchen. the aroma of the food wafted in the house.

you sighed and sat to eat. he gives a giddy smile and asks you to eat it!! who are you to decline your precious husband's request?

"dear.. why does this taste so weird?"

🌊 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 🦈

First yan post!! you can interpret him however you like :)) yan angel is next

[mistydeyes]

opposite of a meet cute

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summary: Not everyone can have a cute story about how they met and that's clear when you tell the story of how you met your significant other. From punches to car accidents, your way of meeting your future husband was definitely unique.

pairing: 141 x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, mild injury/violence, bodily fluids? (its someone throwing up a drink and i think you can guess who)

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price - during a bar fight

As Price walked down the Saturday night street, he kept to himself and casually peered into the busy bars and pubs. He was on his way back from his favorite cigar shop and was comforted by the brisk weather and the cacophonies of conversations. He was almost to his townhome when he passed a loud pub. His pleasant walk was interrupted by two men fighting loudly. He could hear the sounds of swearing and the sickening impact of punches being thrown. He thought of crossing the street but it was clear that this wasn’t going to end anytime soon. He watched as people just observed the fight and no one was intervening as the street was filled with the sound of fists contacting and groans. He wondered where the fuck the bouncers were and why no one had called the police yet.

"Don't be a hero, John, don't be a fucking hero," he kept saying in his mind as he watched the chaos unfold. His hands balled into fists on the warm inside of his jacket and everything was screaming at him to just continue walking. He could have just crossed the street and let someone else handle the situation. But of course, he couldn’t let these two drunk assholes continue and he went in to break up the fight. In the mayhem, a few punches were thrown his way and Price decided to deliver some defensive moves of his own. However, his punch made contact with someone other than the two drunkards. Around the same time, you were headed back to your flat after a late-night snack run and came upon the fight. You moved through the gathering crowd of cameras and jeers until you came upon the scene. Price would later make fun of your lack of self-preservation but in that moment, you decided to be a good person and tried to end the drunken punches and swears. That's how you ended with a hard punch to your nose. You swear you could see stars as you tried to stand up straight. Staggering backward, you fell onto the concrete as Price rushed over. You could feel blood drip down your lip as he helped you get back up. His eyes were filled with worry as he tried to assess the damage. Thankfully, the bouncer finally came out and put an end to the stupid brawl.

“You broken?” he asked as you sat on the bench outside the loud pub. If he hadn’t gotten you ice and piles of tissues after the punch, you would’ve thought it was a threat. Your nose was pooling blood for a few moments and the air smelled of sickly iron. “I’ll be alright, the bouncer said it wasn’t broken,” you replied as you continued to hold the ice to your throbbing nose. You chatted for a while as the pain dulled and he even offered you a cigarette. You declined as your entire face was still throbbing mildly but enjoyed that his cigar took away the smell of blood rather quickly. "That was stupid, you know?" he said to you after a long drag, "you shouldn't have intervened." You laughed and winced a little at the pain. "I'm stupid? You were the one throwing punches," you joked and you both shared a laugh.

Eventually, you felt well enough to head home and John even booked you an Uber so you wouldn’t have to walk the late-night streets back to your flat. You didn't mind the free ride and happily accepted. As you sat in silence waiting for your ride, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask him something. “Not to be blunt, but I’d like to see you under better circumstances,” you said and you cringed at your stuffed-up voice. He laughed and you felt a little embarrassed at your offer. “Not many people would say that after a punch,” he began as he looked at you under the glow of the pub’s sign, “but I’d like that.” You exchanged details before he led you to your Uber, making sure you were safely on the way home.

soap - in a pub

"C’mon Y/N let’s just stay for another drink,” your friend begged. This was the third pub you had been to that night and were already feeling drunk from the countless number of beers and shots. Your friend from uni was in town and she thought you were 18 again. “Alright alright one more,” you agreed and flagged down the bartender for another round of beers and a shot. "My turn to pick," you smiled and your friend flipped you off. "Two pickleback shots please plus the beers," you asked and the bartender went off to make the concoction. "You are the devil," she said as he returned and you jokingly cheered her shot glass of whiskey. You winced as you washed down the brown liquor with a shot of pickle juice. Your friend was fully gagging after. “Jesus I don’t know how you do those,” your friend joked and she hurriedly chugged her beer. “Practice,” you winked and cheered her glass. You talked about some menial topic when you were interrupted by a group of men coming in. You could tell the minute they stepped in, they were army men on leave based on their broad figures that maneuvered through the crowded pub. What was more obvious was that this probably wasn’t their first stop. You smiled slightly as you saw them laugh loudly and clumsily walk up to the counter. They found four seats next to you and you rose your glass in a toast as they ordered.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what’s a good shot here?” one of the men tapped your shoulder. You turned from your friend and smiled at his politeness. “Pickleback,” you answered and in the corner of your eye, you could see your friend shaking her head in refusal. “Four pickleback shots,” the man called to the bartender and she nodded in response. “Thanks for the recommendation, name’s Johnny by the way,” he said and stuck out his hand. You shook it gingerly and replied with a “Welcome home soldier.” “How’d you know?” he asked as the bartender delivered their drinks. “I’m real familiar with your military types,” you joked, “enjoy the shot.” With that, he turned to his comrades and they took the shot of whiskey. Two out of the four men took it effortlessly but the other two, including the mohawked one, winced. “No no no you got to take the pickle juice after,” you laughed and you pushed the glass over to Johnny. He grabbed it, some whiskey still in his mouth, and tried to swallow it.

You laughed at his disgusted face but moments later you were coated with liquor and pickle juice. Now it was his friends’ turn to start laughing. “I-I am so sorry,” he stammered as he grabbed some napkins and tried to help sop up the mess. One of his friends returned with a pile of wet paper towels. “Sorry about him, we’ll cover your tab,” the man smiled as you dabbed your shirt. “It’s really okay that shot is definitely something else,” you joked as Johnny kept trying to help. You were heading home anyways and had had much worse spit up on you, so your spirits were uncharacteristically cheery. You were about to head out when Johnny stopped you gently. “I know this was an awful first impression, but can I take ya out to a proper drink?” he asked and you could tell he was bracing for rejection. “Sure,” you smiled as your friend stood waiting. You exchanged numbers and before you left, you made sure to leave him with a sarcastic comment. “As long as no more pickle shots,” you winked and you left him embarrassed as his mates laughed hysterically.

gaz - through a car accident

Kyle prided himself on being a good driver. Naturally, his job meant he had to be ready to steal a getaway vehicle or be able to shoot and drive at the same time. It was hard not to have the same mentality when he was on leave. He drove defensively but sometimes the traffic in London made him want to drive on the shoulder and bypass the long lanes of cars. “Let’s go!” he yelled as the stop-and-go traffic was ruining his day of groceries and errands. The constant honks started to give him a headache. As he slammed on the brakes again, he couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh. You were in the same boat. You had just gotten out of your 9-5 and just wanted to relax at home with a book and a glass of wine. You turned up the volume on your stereo higher as the music drowned out the annoyed energy from the cars around you. You tapped your fingers on the wheel as the lights changed from red to green and the cars began to move at a snail's pace. You slowly built up speed and followed the car in front of you.

You were a little over the 48 km speed limit before the vehicle in front slammed on its brakes. You wish you had better reflexes as you rammed your car into their bumper. You held your face as the impact of the airbags left you dizzy and disoriented. You exited the car in your shaken state. Kyle was pissed at first at the driver who wasn't paying attention and the biker who entered the crosswalk. However, when he saw you holding your head, his anger turned into worry. “Are you alright?” a man called to you as you walked up to his car. “I’m so sorry,” you began to say as you looked at his dented bumper and your crushed front. “It’s my fault, some fucking biker entered the crosswalk,” he began to say as he held your chin to look at your injuries. You noticed your nose was bleeding slightly and he grabbed a tissue out of his pocket for you. “I already called the authorities, they’ll be here soon,” he replied and you both sat on the curb.

You exchanged contacts and insurance before the police finally arrived. It took a while as they had to maneuver through the afternoon traffic so it allowed you to chat with the other driver. You learned he was from the area and was actually on leave. “What a shitty way to spend it,” you joked as you watched the cars direct around the wrecked vehicles. “I’m sorry about your car,” he apologized as he started at the wreckage. “It’s alright, glad you didn’t kill that biker,” you replied and he laughed in response. You swear you wish all of your car accidents were like this. The other driver, Kyle, insisted on having them assess you for a concussion first before they went into any details. You laughed at his worry as you were more concerned about your damaged vehicle. By the time it was over, you sadly watched as your car was towed away. You stood on the sidewalk as you tried to figure out what to do next. “You find a ride?” Kyle asked as he prepared to enter his vehicle. “Yeah my friend was in the area so he’s on his way,” you smiled and he nodded. “I’ll be sure to reach out,” he replied before waving off and signaling back into the traffic.

Eventually, your friend showed up and immediately asked for all the details. You were sure to fill him in, throwing in that you were happy the other driver was as kind and as handsome as Kyle. Your friend laughed when you finished. “Don’t tell me you fancy the man who got you into an accident,” he said through a string of laughter. “Maybe I do,” you said as your fiddled with your phone, Kyle’s contact smiling back at you.

ghost - the grocery store

Ghost rarely went to the grocers. He could count the number of times he went on his two hands. Being part of the 141 meant constant last-minute deployments so he learned over the years to stock up on canned food and pasta. Spoiled milk was not a pleasant thing to return home to. As he pushed the trolley down the aisles, he grabbed some of his non-perishable favorites. You too were making your way down the aisle, grabbing some essentials for the week and mentally checking off items in your mind. You pulled your trolley over to the side as you scanned for some boxes of spaghetti. Unfortunately, the boxes in question were positioned on the highest shelf. You made a pitiful attempt to grab it until you realized it wasn’t possible without a ladder. You looked around the aisle until you found a tall man who could definitely get the job done.

You walked over as he was looking for his own boxes of penne. “Hi sorry to ask but can you-” you began to ask as he looked up. “Just tell me how many you want,” he replied and walked over down the aisle. “Observant,” you said under your breath and pointed out the ones you wanted. He grabbed them with ease and handed them to you. “Thanks again,” you smiled before holding the two boxes in hand and looking at some quinoa for a new recipe you wanted to try. As Simon pushed the trolley past another aisle, he couldn’t deny he was glad you asked him to help. He had been slightly distracted by your valiant attempt and may have spent a few extra minutes in the aisle to see if you needed help.

However, he returned to his routine and another aisle. He was scanning for a can of soup when he saw a familiar face walk away with his trolley. "Hey that's mine," he replied in a voice louder than he had intended, you turned around and jumped a little. "No it's mine," you began to say but before you could finish, he joined in front of you. 'I'm certain this is mine, I pushed it from the other aisle," he corrected and you rolled your eyes. "Well look at what's inside and tell me if you still think that way," you said and gestured to the items. Simon could feel his ears get red as he saw bottles of sweet wine and the brand of pasta he had gotten for you. You stood there arms crossed as he came to the realization. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath and looked back at you. "I think you might have grabbed it before, I have your trolley over here," you replied and motioned over to his. "I'm sorry," he said quickly and you swear that's the fastest you've ever seen anyone walk away.

Simon hurriedly finished up his groceries and realized he probably was forgetting some items. He didn't care as he shoved items onto the conveyer belt. His ears were still flush from the embarrassing altercation. As he was adding more items, another customer came into the queue behind him. “Sorry about the mix-up,” you said and he turned to look at you. You were awkwardly adding your items as he stared for a minute. “Um, it was my mistake, don’t worry about it,” he replied and you swear he looked embarrassed. You took a moment to reply before an old woman behind you spoke up. “Are you going to get his number or am I going to have to find another register?” she joked and you turned back to the man blushing. “I’m Y/N,” you began, “and I guess this is me asking for your number.” You laughed nervously as your face heated up and the grocers suddenly felt warmer than before. “Simon,” he answered quietly, “and sure.” You grabbed your phone out of your purse and traded contacts. As you walked out with your bags, you saw Simon load his car and give you a small wave. You wondered if he would like to join you for dinner sometime this week.

[jyoongim]

Hello! I absolutely love your work! If it’s not too odd to ask but I was wondering if I may make an odd request- given Alastor is a cannibal- may I have some drabbles within your own comfort level of the reader with a painful disability impacting their arm offering it to Alastor as both a gift and request of pain relief for the reader? Even if in hell characters can reconstitute themselves it would be an interesting dynamic especially if it was just a normal thing between the two.

warnings: self cannibalism! Fluff, Alastor eating a piece of you. Bodily harm! Disabled!reader

You groaned as you felt pain shoot down your arm. You thought when one died, you’ll be relieved of your earthly pains…clearly not.

And the fall to hell did not help.

You tried to soothe the painful tingle that ran through your arm, but to no avail.

The only relief you got was when you cut the damn thing off. Though that didn’t last long as your arm always grew back at some point.

”Alastoooorr” you sanded finding the demon in the kitchen. it smelled like he was cooking.

He hummed in response as you took a seat at the table.

”hmm what is it my dear?” He asked

”wanna split some of my arm?” You asked, wincing at the sharp pain.

He was quickly by your side, a clawed hand dancing up your arm. “You know ill never decline such a offer dearest”

you sighed, narrowing your eyes at him playfully “dont just rip it off this time please”

he shrugged laughing as he picked up a cleaver.

”Oh but it so much more fun that way”

he rolled up your sleeve and gave a soft lick to your shoulder “remember to breathe”

You shut your eyes on impulse and hissed as the steel sliced through your flesh.

You smiled as the pain went away and wrapped a towel around the bleeding wound.

You poked at the limb that caused you so much grief, mentally growling at it.

Alastor picked it up and tossed it in a bag. “Feel better?” He asked. You nodded, rolling your shoulder blade and happy to not feel that nagging sting you were so use to.

”much thank you”

this was a normal for you. Asking Alastor to rid you of the petting limb whenever it decided it didn’t want to function properly.

”should i chill it for later?” You shook your head “No go ahead ill just take a finger”

It was interesting seeing the demon enjoy a piece of you. He didn’t dig into it like some savage, instead you watched as he deboned it, before taking a bite.

”I think you like it more than i do” you joked, nibbling on your own finger.

Alastor smiled “why of course! You taste better than even the finest meat my dear”

”I always enjoy getting a bite out of you”

[crtter]

List of New Spamton Lore

This post contains all the new information about Spamton revealed on September 17th and 18th 2022 through the Spamton Sweepstakes and the Twitter Q&A, ranging from the most important reveals to small details, in no particular order!

Spamton might be dual typed, with his two elements being Puppet and Cat. It could also be, however, that he merely meant that the Puppet and the Cat elements share the same elemental weaknesses and that his sole element is Puppet.

Spamton once considered Swatch a close friend who always listened to him and was a shoulder for him to cry on.

Spamton seems to be especially fond of the Mike person he mentions in the game, citing him as the only one he’d spare if he got revenge on all of those who he feels have wronged him and declining to give people any information about him in order to protect him from “THAT [Cathode]’S CREW”.

Spamton is aware “haters” want to inflict bodily damage onto him (especially cover him in milk and throw him against a wall) and his official stance on the subject is “[Cool down with a]!!! WHAT IF ONE DAY, YOU ENDED UP [Killed] ME!?” and “WE DON’T DO THAT WITHOUT [A 72 hour paid Appointment]!!”

Spamton met Noelle before her arrival to Cyber World through her replying to his spam e-mails (implied to be about a supposedly “friend finder” website she tried to find her sister through). She was the only one to ever reply to one of his e-mails and, in return, he sent her a code that, when input into the Cat Petterz 2 game, produced a pipis reminiscent to the Bad Egg glitch from the Pokémon games.

The Pipis Spamton sent Noelle is implied to be the only gift he ever gave someone, since he seems unable to give people goods without trading them for money, even symbolically, either because of his corruption or as a trait of his species.

Spamton is aware people find him attractive and attributes it to his “MASSIVE [Ass]”.

Spamton doesn’t know what his Spamton EX form would have looked like.

Spamton claims that first three letters of the hidden, garbled lyrics hidden in BIG SHOT and as a voice line in the Spamton plush are “F I N”.

Spamton recognizes that his speech contains “[Brackets]“ and “[Random sp4m quotes]” to someone who’s looking at it in text form.

Spamton can repeat pieces of phrases he reads or is told, something he does in four different occasions between the Sweepstakes and the Q&A, which implies some of the things he says might be fully copied and pasted together from other sources.

Spamton claims his favorite food is Mexican food, but very specifically from the Pipis “The Original” restaurant, which is a reference present in the original game.

When answering this particular question, he answered it by repeating phrases taken directly from the restaurant’s Facebook page almost word for word.

Spamton considers himself handsome.

Spamton might know about Jockington and thinks he’d disapprove of his “Pipis Big Shot Fantasyship Ring” product, maybe because Pipis isn’t a real sport.

Spamton is in a certain amount of denial about his downfall.

Spamton made two separate references to being willing to be in a three-way relationship.

Spamton doesn’t like people that aren’t very well acquainted with them referring to his Pipis as eggs and calls them “[The boys]”. He considers the idea of them being used as a food source as pretty barbaric but admits it’d look “DELICIS” and “[Cheap]”.

Spamton knows a certain man is responsible for handing white eggs to people.

Spamton doesn’t seem to remember the Knight (or is pretending not to).

Spamton claims the Cungadero is the “[Nation’s Most Popular Car]”.

Spamton has always been shorter than the other Addisons.

Spamton seems to find non-digital painting an interesting concept and dubbed The Mona Spamton as “[History's First Fully Authentic] PAINTING”.

Spamton describes what happened to him as being made “INTO YOUR [living puppet] AND [enslave me] WITH [visions of glory]”.

Spamton implies that, at one point, he was pushed inside the Queen’s pool and given a swirlie in the mansion’s toilets.

Spamton seems to believe he has “died” in the past in some way.

When asked about his sexual orientation, Spamton claims to “LIKE [anyone and anything] THAT GIVE ME [Money]!!” and to be a “[Business Loving Businessman]”.

The little animated sprite of Spamton dancing borrows some moves from the famous Dancing Baby, a CGI animation from 1996 that’s widely considered to be the first meme.

Spamton finds Queen attractive. More specifically, that she has a “[smoking hot a$$]”, something he mentions in two separate occasions when referring to her.

Spamton appreciates his fans, calling them [Fellow Freaks].

Spamton considers Ralsei a “[scringley]”.

Spamton knows what memes are (he spells them as “m3m3”) and referenced around 11 different memes in both the Sweepstakes and the Q&A.

He specifically referenced the everyteenagers4free hot dog husband post when talking about Jevil, which could imply they’re exes.

Spamton considers Berdly’s statue as the best thing he has ever found in the trash.

Spamton seems to have frequent flashbacks about being evicted from Queen’s mansion.

Spamton thinks the Addisons were never his real friends and were embarrassed to be seen with him because he was “bad for business”.

Spamton knows what Neopets are.

Spamton stuck his nose inside a Cungadero’s auxiliary power outlet at least once.

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie. (Part II)

Part I

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

Two weeks after Dean became a father, it's time to jump back on the hunting horse. But he's hesitant.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

“Bonnie?” 

You shot Dean a look across the kitchen. He was cooking eggs on the stove while you were nursing. Castiel was the only other member of the bunker awake at six a.m. and, fortunately, occupied the library. It wasn’t that you cared about the other men seeing you breastfeeding, it was how they reacted to it. Both became very awkward and outwardly attempted to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“You can’t accept Winnie, but you pick Bonnie?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“I was just thinking if we had a boy we could call him Clyde. We’d have our own little gang.” 

“Firstly, I’m not doing this again. And secondly, Bonnie and Clyde were felons.”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not doing this again?’ Don’t most women go crazy for more kids? They smell the baby's head and some hoo-doo helps them forget about the pain and bodily fluids.” 

“Yeah, well. You try being in labour for damn near forty eight hours and shitting yourself in a room full of people. Including the man you love. Then come back and tell me you’ve forgotten about it and wanna do it all over again.” 

“Point taken.” Dean laughed, plating up eggs and bacon for them both, “And you didn’t shit yourself by the way.”

“I didn’t?”

“I think I’d remember.”

You smiled at the plate of food and carefully lifted the baby from your breast. She’d long since stopped feeding and was instead squirming, ready to be winded. 

“I can take it from here.” Dean reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms. He held her upright against his chest and began rubbing circles into her small back, “There we go kiddo. Get it up.” 

“Be careful.” You warned. 

“I’m not taking any chances.” Dean gestured to the polka-dot muslin cloth on his shoulder. 

You watched as he gently walked your daughter around the kitchen, her little body squirming while he cooed into her ear. She made several little squeaking noises, threatening to cry, only to be brought back to earth by her father’s tender voice. 

“Come on now, no tears. I’ve got you.” 

Your eyes locked with Dean’s for a moment, both reflecting a soft smile. He was proving to be an excellent father, not that you’d doubted him for a second. But Sam had. He’d been very vocal about Dean knowing nothing about babies and how, despite the fact that he was happy for you both, he thought this whole ‘raising a family thing’ was a bad idea.

“You guys are great together! But I don’t think this is the right environment for a kid.”  Or something along the same bullshit. 

Dean had been adamant about her though. He damn near refused to speak to Sam until he stopped with his questions and logical answers. Sure you both had been sceptical about bringing a child into this life, but neither of you had actively prevented it. If it happened, it happened. 

Speaking of the devil. Sam groaned and stretched his arms above his head, stumbling into the kitchen. He dug the palm of his hands into his eyes, drawing them down his face afterwards. 

“Morning. Coffee’s in the pot.” Dean said, his voice shifting from Dad to brother by just an octave. 

Sam poured himself a hefty mug before offering more to the kitchen. You declined but insisted that he fill up Deans. 

“He’ll need the caffeine for your hunt.” 

“Oh so you’re back on the job then?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows rising. 

Dean’s brow furrowed as he shifted the little one on his chest. He searched her face, the cogs visibly turning in his head. 

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” 

“What? I thought you’d be happy to get back on the horse.” You’d assumed that after being out of work for almost two weeks that Dean would be craving a hunt, but his face said otherwise. 

“Yeah. I mean I am. But she - “ 

“She’ll be right here when you get back.” You interrupted, “It’s a simple in and out job. Right Sam?” 

“Sure. Run of the mill ghost in the attic for some old friend’s of Bobby’s.” Sam took a lengthy sip of his coffee, “And it pays too.” 

“See? And we could use the cash for Winnie.” 

Sam scoffed, barely holding onto the coffee in his mouth. He looked between you both and then to his niece. 

“Winnie?”

“Short for Winchester but not her name. Just a placeholder until we find the perfect one.” You inform, “But what’s so wrong with Winnie anyway? It’s a perfectly acceptable name.” 

“Nothing wrong with it at all. It’s just not what I pictured you both to come up with.” 

“Fortunately it’s not.” Dean added, shifting the baby from one arm to the other as she reached up with her little hands, “As for the hunt, I’m not sure.”

He offered a finger for her hand to close around, eyes never leaving her. the features on his face softened, lips almost pulling downwards into a frown. 

You exchanged a knowing look with Sam. 

“If this is about Win- her- you don’t need to worry. I can cope fine on my own for one night.” You offered

“Yeah but what if it isn’t just one evening?” Dean answered, his voice doing nothing to disguise the concern he was feeling. 

“It’s only a few towns over. We’ll be home by four am - ” 

“But what if something goes wrong? Huh? Then what? I’ve left my wife without a husband, my little girl without a father. And -” 

You jumped to your feet at the distress in his voice and rushed to loop an arm around his middle.  

“Don’t say that. It’s a run of the mill job, something you guys have done one thousand times over. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen other than a few bruises.” You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes coming to settle on the little lady in his arms, “I can deal with those. And she’ll not know any different.” 

With a deep sigh, Dean kissed you gently on the head. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection, especially in front of his brother, but you hadn’t the heart to react. You knew he was feeling vulnerable, that much was clear in his reaction, and to draw attention to it would only make things worse. Instead you settled against him and allowed his warmth and the soothing sounds of your baby to still your own anxiety. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that some part of you was fearful of your husband walking out of the bunker and never coming home. Hunting was a dire job, one which had claimed the life of many of your comrades. Dean may be an experienced hunter, renowned in his own right, but he certainly wasn’t immune to unfortunate outcomes. That much had been proven time and time again. 

Lost in thought, the only sounds in the kitchen were the gentle fussing of your daughter and the whirring of the circulation fans. 

Finally Castiel broke the silence with his sudden entrance. He appeared in a flurry of feathers, one coming to land on the table top by your abandoned coffee cup. 

“We have doors, Cas. Use ‘em.” Dean warned, pulling your daughter closer to his chest as she began to fuss. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s a force of habit.” Castiel answered, taking a seat next to Sam, “I startled her.” 

“You think?!” 

You moved to take the baby from Dean but he shook his head, whispering a small ‘I got this’ back to you as he started to rock her from side to side. But it was no good, her cries grew louder and more furious. You began to wonder how those big sounds could even come from such a small creature. 

Before you could offer your help again Castiel brushed past you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare her.” He said, coming to stand in front of Dean “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Here” to your surprise, Dean held your daughter out towards the angel, “You can settle her down while I grab her diaper bag.” 

You lean in and quickly sniff.  

“I don’t think she needs changed, D.”

“Well I don’t know what else to do. She -” 

Castiel reached forward and lifted the infant from Dean. He brought her to settle in the crook of his arm, offering up his fingers for her to grab at. Gradually she began to quiet, her hands reaching up for Castiel’s and her eyes wide, staring into his face. 

You and Dean watched on in outward confusion. Castiel, to your knowledge, had never handled a baby before. At least not in recent years. 

“How did you do that?” Dean asked almost aggressively, “She was cryin’ up a storm seconds ago and you just took her and nothing.”

“Did you use your grace?” Sam suggested. 

“She’s much too small to handle my grace in any capacity. It would kill her.” 

You considered jumping in and taking her from Castiel but stopped yourself. She was settled and happily holding onto the angel's fingers. No sense in ruining it. Beside you Dean was tense, clearly struggling with something along the same lines. His face was etched in hard lines and you could see his brows furrowing. 

Gently you looped your arm through his and guided him to his long forgotten coffee cup. He moved but his eyes never left you daughter in the angel’s arms. 

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, “About this hunt.” 

“What about it?” Dean glared at him over the rim of his cup. 

“Are you in or -” 

“He’s in.” You answer before the question could even be finished. 

“Wha - I -” 

“Oh come on. You got this. I can handle her and Cas will be here if I need any help. Right Cas?” The angel gave something akin to a positive response, “You have to get back out there at some point.”

Dean’s gaze flickered from Sam to you, finally coming to land on Castiel. He watched the angel gently swaying the little girl in his arms and the lines on his face began to soften. 

“Hmmm. You’re sure about this?” He asked. 

“Positive.” 

“If there’s any trouble, anything at all, you call me.” 

“Sure.” You smiled, “But I doubt Winnie will be as much of an issue as your malevolent spirit.” 

Dean chuckled, accompanied by Sam. 

“God, we’re really going to have to talk about her name when I get back.” 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

How unions won a 30% raise for every fast food worker in California

Tonight (September 14), I'm hosting the EFF Awards in San Francisco. On September 22, I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy.

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. 40 years of declining worker power shattered the American Dream (TM), producing multiple generations whose children fared worse than their parents, cratering faith in institutions and hope for a better future.

The American neoliberal malaise – celebrated in by "centrists" who insisted that everything was fine and nothing could be changed – didn't just lead to a sense of helplessness, but also hopelessness. Denialism and nihilism are Siamese twins, and the YOLO approach to the climate emergency, covid mitigation, the housing crisis and other pressing issues can't be disentangled from the Thatcherite maxim that "There is NoA lternative." If there's no alternative, then we're doomed. Dig a hole, climb inside, pull the dirt down on top of yourself.

But anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. For decades, leftists have taken a back seat to liberals in the progressive coalition, allowing "unionize!" to be drowned out by "learn to code!" The liberal-led coalition ceded the mantle of radical change to fake populist demagogues on the right.

This opened a space for a mirror-world politics that insisted that "conservatives" were the true defenders of women (because they were transphobes), of bodily autonomy (because they were vaccine deniers), of the environment (because they opposed wind-farms) and of workers (because they opposed immigration):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. A new coalition dedicated to fighting corporate power has emerged, tackling capitalism's monopoly power, and the corruption and abuse of workers it enables. That coalition is global, it's growing, and it's kicking ass.

Case in point: California just passed a law that will give every fast-food worker in the state a 30% raise. This law represents a profound improvement to the lives of the state's poorest workers – workers who spend long hours feeding their neighbors, but often can't afford to feed themselves at the end of a shift.

But just as remarkable as the substance of this new law is the path it took – a path that runs through a new sensibility, a new vibe, that is more powerful than mere political or legal procedure. The story is masterfully told in The American Prospect by veteran labor writer Harold Meyerson:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-13-half-million-california-workers-get-raise/

The story starts with Governor Newsom signing a bill to create a new statewide labor-business board to mediate between workers and bosses, with the goal of elevating the working conditions of the state's large, minimum-wage workforce. The passage of this law triggered howls of outrage from the state's fast-food industry, who pledged to spend $200m to put forward a ballot initiative to permanently kill the labor-business board.

This is a familiar story. In 2019, California's state legislature passed AB-5, a bill designed to end the gig-work fiction that people whose boss is an algorithm are actually "independent businesses," rather than employees. AB5 wasn't perfect – it swept up all kinds of genuine freelancers, like writers who contributed articles to many publications – but the response wasn't aimed at fixing the bad parts. It was designed to destroy the good parts.

After AB-5, Uber and Lyft poured more than $200m into Prop 22, a ballot initiative designed to permanently bar the California legislature from passing any law to protect "gig workers." Prop 22's corporate backers flooded the state with disinformation, and procured a victory in 2020. The aftermath was swift and vicious, with Prop 22 used as cover in mass-firings of unionized workers across the state's workforce:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/05/manorialism-feudalism-cycle/#prop22

Workers and the politicians who defend them were supposed to be crushed by Prop 22. Its message was "there is no alternative." "Abandon hope all ye who enter here." "Resistance is futile." Prop 22 was worth spending $200m on because it wouldn't just win this fight – it would win all fights, forever.

But that's not what happened. When the fast-food barons announced that they were going to pump another $200m into a state ballot initiative to kill fair wages for food service workers, they got a hell of a surprise. SEIU – a union that has long struggled to organize fast-food workers – collaborated with progressive legislators to introduce a pair of new, even further-reaching bills.

One bill would have made the corporate overseers of franchise businesses jointly liable for lawbreaking by franchisees – so if a McDonald's restaurant owner stole their employees' wages, McDonalds corporate would also be on the hook for the offense. The second bill would restore funding and power to the state Industrial Welfare Commission, which once routinely intervened to set wages and working standards in many state industries:

https://www.gtlaw-laborandemployment.com/2023/08/the-california-iwc-whats-old-is-new-again/

Fast-food bosses fucked around, and boy did they find out. Funding for the IWC passed the state budget, and the franchisee joint liability is set to pass the legislature this week. The fast-food bosses cried uncle and begged Newsom's office for a deal. In exchange for defunding the IWC and canceling the vote on the liability bill, the industry has agreed to an hourly wage increase for the state's 550,000 fast-food workers, from $15.50 to $20, taking effect in April.

The deal also includes annual raises of either 3.5% or the real rise in cost of living. It keeps the labor-management council that the original bill created (the referendum on killing that council has been cancelled). The council will include two franchisees, two fast food corporate reps, two union reps, two front-line fast-food workers and a member of the public. It will have the power to direct the state Department of Labor to directly regulate working conditions in fast-food restaurants, from health and safety to workplace violence.

It's been nearly a century since business/government/labor boards like this were commonplace. The revival is a step on the way to bringing back the practice of sectoral bargaining, where workers set contracts for all employers in an industry. Sectoral bargaining was largely abolished through the dismantling of the New Deal, though elements of it remain. Entertainment industry unions are called "guilds" because they bargain with all the employers in their sector – which is why all of the Hollywood studios are being struck by SAG-AFTRA and the WGA.

So what changed between 2020 – when rideshare bosses destroyed democratic protections for workers by flooding the zone with disinformation to pass Prop 22 – and 2023, when the fast food bosses folded like a cheap suit? It wasn't changes to the laws governing ballot initiatives, nor was it a lack of ready capital for demolishing worker rights. Fast food executives weren't visited by three ghosts in the night who convinced them to care for their workers. Their hearts didn't grow by three sizes.

What changed was the vibe. The Hot Labor Summer was a rager, and it's not showing any signs of slowing. Obviously that's true in California, where nurses and hotel workers are also striking, and where strikebreaking companies like Instawork ("Uber for #scabs") attract swift regulatory sanction, rather than demoralized capitulation:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

The hot labor summer wasn't a season – it was a turning point. Everyone's forming unions. Think of Equity Strip NoHo, the first strippers' union in a generation, which won recognition from their scumbag bosses at North Hollywood's Star Garden Club, who used every dirty trick to kill workplace democracy.

The story of the Equity Strippers is amazing. Two organizers, Charlie and Lilith, appeared on Adam Conover's Factually podcast to describe the incredible creativity and solidarity they used to win recognition, and the continuing struggle to get a contract out of their bosses, who are still fucking around and assuming they will not find out:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_fgXihmHIZk

Like the fast-food bosses, the Star Garden's owners are in for a surprise. One of the most powerful elements of the Equity Strippers' story is the solidarity of their customers. Star Garden's owners assumed that their clientele were indiscriminate, horny assholes who didn't care about the wellbeing of the workers they patronized, and would therefore cross a picket-line because parts is parts.

Instead, the bar's clientele sided with the workers. People everywhere are siding with workers. A decade ago, when video game actors voted on a strike, the tech workers who coded the games were incredibly hostile to them. "Why should you get residuals for your contribution to this game when we don't?"

But SAG-AFTRA members who provide voice acting for games just overwhelmingly voted to authorize a strike, and this time the story is very different. This time, tech workers are ride-or-die for their comrades in the sound booths:

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/business/story/2023-09-13/video-game-voice-actor-sag-strike-interactive-agreement-actors-strike

What explains the change in tech workers' animal sentiments? Well, on the one hand, labor rights are in the air. The decades of cartoonish, lazy dismissals of labor struggles have ended. And on the other hand, tech workers have been proletarianized, with 260,000 layoffs in the sector, including 12,000 layoffs at Google that came immediately after a stock buyback that would have paid those 12,000 salaries for the next 27 years:

https://doctorow.medium.com/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers-ad0a6b09f7e6

Larry Lessig once laid out a theory of change that holds that our society is governed by four forces: law (what's legal), norms (what's socially acceptable), markets (what's profitable) and code (what's technologically possible):

https://cs.stanford.edu/people/eroberts/cs181/projects/2010-11/CodeAndRegulation/about.html

These four forces interact. When queer relationships were normalized, it made it easier to legalize them, too – and then the businesses that marriage equality became both a force for more normalization and legal defense.

When Lessig formulated this argument, much of the focus was on technology – how file-sharing changed norms, which changed law. But as the decades passed, I've come to appreciate what the argument says about norms, the conversations we have with one another.

Neoliberalism wants you to think that you're an individual, not a member of a polity. Neoliberalism wants you to bargain with your boss as a "free agent," not a union member. It wants you to address the climate emergency by recycling more carefully – not by demanding laws banning single-use plastics. It wants you to fight monopolies by shopping harder – not by busting trusts.

But that's not what we're doing – not anymore. We're forming unions. We're demanding a Green New Deal. And we're busting some trusts. The DoJ Antitrust Division case against Google is the (first) trial of the century, reviving the ancient and noble practice of fighting monopolies with courts, not empty platitudes.

The trial is incredible, and Yosef Weitzman's reporting on Big Tech On Trial is required reading. I'm following it closely (thankfully, there's a fulltext RSS feed):

https://www.bigtechontrial.com/p/what-makes-google-great

The neoliberal project of instilling learned helplessness about corporate power has hit the wall, and it's wrecked. The same norms that made us furious enough to put Google on trial are the norms that made us angry – not cynical – about Clarence Thomas's bribery scandals:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/06/clarence-thomas/#harlan-crow

And they're the same norms that made us support our striking comrades, from hotel housekeepers to Hollywood actors, from strippers to Starbucks baristas:

https://thetyee.ca/News/2023/09/13/Starbucks-Workers-Back-At-Strike/

Yes, Starbucks baristas. The Starbucks unions that won hard-fought recognition drives are now fighting the next phase of corporate fuckery: Starbucks corporate's refusal to bargain for a contract. Starbucks is betting that if they just stall long enough, the workers who support the union will move on and they'll be able to go back to abusing their workers without worrying about a union.

They're fucking around, and they're finding out. Starbucks workers at two shops in British Columbia – Clayton Crossing in Surrey and Valley Centre in Langley – have authorized strikes with a 91% majority:

https://thetyee.ca/News/2023/09/13/Starbucks-Workers-Back-At-Strike/

Where did the guts to do this come from? Not from labor law, which remains disgustingly hostile to workers (though that's changing, as we'll see below). It came from norms. It came from getting pissed off and talking about it. Shouting about it. Arguing about it.

Laws, markets and code matter, but they're nothing without norms. That's why Uber and Lyft were willing to spend $200m to fight fair labor practices. They didn't just want to keep their costs low – they wanted to snuff out the vibe, the idea that workers deserve a fair deal.

They failed. The idea didn't die. It thrived. It merged with the idea that corporations and the wealthy corrupt our society. It was joined by the idea that monopolies harm us all. They're losing. We're winning.

The BC Starbucks workers secured 91% majorities in their strike votes. This is what worker power looks like. As Jane McAlevey writes in her Collective Bargain, these supermajorities – ultramajorities – are how we win.

https://doctorow.medium.com/a-collective-bargain-a48925f944fe

The neoliberal wing of the Democratic party hires high-priced consultants who advise them to seek 50.1% margins of victory – and then insist that nothing can be done because we live in the Manchin-Synematic Universe, where razor-thin majorities mean that there is no alternative. Labor organizers fight for 91% majorities – in the face of bosses' gerrymandering, disinformation and voter suppression – and get shit done.

Shifting the norms – having the conversations – is the tactic, but getting shit done is the goal. The Biden administration – a decidedly mixed bag – has some incredible, technically skilled, principled fighters who know how to get shit done. Take Lina Khan, who revived the long-dormant Section 5 of the Federal Trade Act, which gives her broad powers to ban "unfair and deceptive" practices:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

Khan's wielding this broad power in all kinds of exciting ways. For example, she's seeking a ban on noncompetes, a form of bondage that shackles workers to shitty bosses by making it illegal to work for anyone else in the same industry:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/02/its-the-economy-stupid/#neofeudal

Noncompete apologists argue that these merely protect employers' investment in training and willingness to share sensitive trade secrets with employees. But the majority of noncompetes are applied to fast food workers – yes, the same workers who just won a 30%, across-the-board raise – in order to prevent Burger King cashiers from seeking $0.25/hour more at a local Wendy's.

Meanwhile, the most trade-secret intensive, high-training industry in the world – tech – has no noncompetes. That's not because tech bosses are good eggs who want to do right by their employees – it's because noncompetes are banned in California, where tech is headquartered.

But in other states, where noncompetes are still allowed, bosses have figured out how to use them as a slippery slope to a form of bondage that beggars the imagination. I'm speaking of the Training Repayment Agreement Provision (AKA, the TRAP), a contractual term that forces workers who quit or get fired to pay their ex-bosses tens of thousands of dollars, supposedly to recoup the cost of training them:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/04/its-a-trap/#a-little-on-the-nose

Now, TRAPs aren't just evil, they're also bullshit. Bosses show pet-groomers or cannabis budtenders a few videos, throw them a three-ring binder, and declare that they've received a five-figure education that they must repay if they part ways with their employers. This gives bosses broad latitude to abuse their workers and even order them to break the law, on penalty of massive fines for quitting.

If this sounds like an Unfair Labor Practice to you, you're not alone. NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo agrees with you. She's another one of those Biden appointees with a principled commitment to making life better for American workers, and the technical chops to turn that principle into muscular action.

In a case against Juvly Aesthetics – an Ohio-based chain of "alternative medicine" and "aesthetic services" – Abruzzo argues that noncompetes and TRAPs are Unfair Labor Practices that violate the National Labor Relations Act and cannot be enforced:

https://www.nlrb.gov/case/09-CA-300239

Two ex-Juvly employees have been hit with $50-60k "repayment" bills for quitting – one after refusing to violate Ohio law by performing "microneedling," another for quitting after having their wages stolen and then refusing to sign an "exit agreement":

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-14-nlrb-complaint-calls-noncompete-agreement-unfair-labor-practice/

If the NLRB wins, the noncompete and TRAP clauses in the workers' contracts will be voided, and the workers will get fees, missed wages, and other penalties. More to the point, the case will set the precedent that noncompetes are generally unenforceable nationwide, delivering labor protection to every worker in every sector in America.

Abruzzo has been killing it lately: just a couple weeks ago, she set a precedent that any boss that breaks labor law during a union drive automatically loses, with instant recognition for the union as a penalty (rather than a small fine, as was customary):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

Abruzzo is amazing – as are her colleagues at the NLRB, FTC, DOJ, and other agencies. But the law they're making is downstream of the norms we set. From the California lawmakers who responded to fast food industry threats by introducing more regulations to the strip-bar patrons who refused to cross the picket-line to the legions of fans dragging Drew Barrymore for scabbing, the public mood is providing the political will for real action:

https://www.motherjones.com/media/2023/09/drew-barrymores-newest-role-scab/

The issues of corruption, worker rights and market concentration can't – and shouldn't – be teased apart. They're three facets of the same fight – the fight against oligarchy. Rarely do those issues come together more clearly than in the delicious petard-hoisting of Dave Clark, formerly the archvillain of Amazon, and now the victim of its bullying.

As Maureen Tkacik writes for The American Prospect, Clark had a long and storied career as Amazon's most vicious and unassuming ghoul, a sweatervested, Diet-Coke-swilling normie whose mild manner disguised a vicious streak a mile wide:

https://prospect.org/power/2023-09-14-catch-us-if-you-can-dave-clark-amazon/

Clark earned his nickname, "The Sniper," as a Kentucky warehouse supervisor; the name came from his habit of "lurking in the shadows [and] scoping out slackers he could fire." Clark created Amazon Flex, the "gig work" version of Amazon delivery drivers where randos in private vehicles were sent out to delivery parcels. Clark also oversaw tens of millions of dollars in wage-theft from those workers.

We have Clark to thank for the Amazon drivers who had to shit in bags and piss in bottles to make quota. Clark was behind the illegal union-busting tactics used against employees in the Bessamer, Alabama warehouse. We have Clark to thank for the Amazon chat app that banned users from posting the words "restroom," "slave labor," "plantation," and "union":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak

But Clark doesn't work for Amazon anymore. After losing a power-struggle to succeed Jeff Bezos – the job went to "longtime rival" Andy Jassy – he quit and went to work for Flexport, a logistics company that promised to provide sellers that used non-Amazon services with shipping. Flexport did a deal with Shopify, becoming its "sole official logistics partner."

But then Shopify did another logistics deal – with Amazon. Clark was ordered to tender his resignation or face immediate dismissal.

How did all this happen? Well, there are two theories. The first is that Shopify teamed up with Amazon to stab Flexport in the back, then purged all the ex-Amazonians from the Flexport upper ranks. The other is that Clark was a double-agent, who worked with Amazon to sabotage Flexport, and was caught and fired.

But either way, this is a huge win for Amazon, a monopolist who is in the FTC's crosshairs thanks to the anti-corporate vibe-shift that has consumed the nation and the world. As the sole major employer for this kind of logistics, Amazon is a de facto labor regulator, deciding who can work in the sector. The FTC's enforcement action isn't just about monopoly – it's about labor.

Now, Clark is a rich, powerful white dude, not the sort of person who needs a lot of federal help to protect his labor rights. When liberals called the shot in the progressive coalition, they scolded leftists not to speak of class, but rather to focus on identity – to be intersectionalists.

That was a trick. There's no incompatibility between caring about class and caring about gender, race and sexual orientation. Those fast food workers who are about to get a 30% wage-hike in California? Overwhelmingly Black or brown, overwhelmingly female.

The liberal version of intersectionalism observes a world run by 150 rich white men and resolves to replace half of them with women, queers and people of color. The leftist version seeks to abolish the system altogether. The leftist version of intersectionalism cares about bias and discrimination not just because of how it makes people feel, but because of how it makes them live. It cares about wages, housing, vacations, child care – the things you can't get because of your identity.

The fight for social justice is a fight for worker justice. Eminently guillotineable monsters like Tim "Avocado Toast" Gurner advocate for increasing unemployment by "40-50%" – but Gurner is just saying what other bosses are thinking:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/tim-gurner-capitalists-neoliberalism-unemployment-precarity

Garner is 100% right when he says: "There’s been a systematic change where employees feel the employer is extremely lucky to have them, as opposed to the other way around."

And then he says this: "So it’s a dynamic that has to change. We’ve got to kill that attitude, and that has to come through hurt in the economy."

Garner knows that the vibes are upstream of the change. The capitalist dream starts with killing our imagination, to make us believe that "there is no alternative." If we can dream bigger than "better representation among oligarchs" when we might someday dream of no oligarchs. That's what he fears the most.

Watch the video of Garner. Look past the dollar-store Gordon Gecko styling. That piece of shit is terrified.

And he should be.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/14/prop-22-never-again/#norms-code-laws-markets

EFF Awards, San Francisco, September 14

[imreadydollparts]

Q&A stuff here

(If you have any other questions, let me know.)

How dirty of a doll or pony can I send?

Inside and out, these are both fine to come to the salon.

I may decline a pony or doll if they're dirtied with bodily fluids of any kind. I will be more than happy to talk you through the cleaning process so you can take care of that yourself.

However, if you are distraught and can't handle it, we can talk. I absolutely need a warning.

What happens if you damage a pony/doll someone sent?

I fix it.

For example, I got some 40Vol on a customer's Confetti's yellow hair and it bleached out the yellow color. I told the customer what had happened and did a partial rehair with vintage hair of the same color from my MLP G1 tail stash. That way the owner is informed and the pony is still full vintage.

Another example is that I was resetting the pose on a Flutterbye, and her feet turned white where they'd sat in a little boiling hot water (I didn't take a picture). I blasted them with a heat gun for a while and they're good as new.

And another was a Birthday Pony who's ribbons had been tied in knots and were weak. I snapped one when I went to recurl it, informed the owner, and they were amenable to replacement of all of the ribbons.

Repair is often risky. If I do damage that I can't fix, I will pay the going price for one of the same quality on eBay or order it for you and give it the salon process for free.

What hair do you use?

I use high-grade, silky smooth nylon mostly ordered from Shimmer Locks for full rehairs.

For partial rehairs like replacing a few plugs here and there or a forelock that was cut, I use vintage hair as long as I have it available in my stash of tails or can harvest enough from the pony's own tail without making the tail too thin. I do offer full tail replacements if I happen to have a replacement tail.

Can I request a hair style?

Absolutely! I can't guarantee that I'll be able to do the style you're wanting, but I'll certainly try. I can attempt a few different kinds of curls and have both a standard size and mini crimper.

You can also let me know if you want every pony's mane to be on the same side of their head. I'm not very consistent with that otherwise.

Why do you charge so much more for deflocking?

I hate doing it.

What paints do you use?

Right now I'm using Army Painter acrylic paints. I was using Liquitex before and found it difficult to get just the right consistency, whereas Army Painter has been easier for me to manipulate.

Why is your hair styling/photography/etc. so inconsistent?

I am not a professional anything and have a poor memory.

My photography is also inconsistent because I use my phone and every time I take my phone on or off of the cheap ringlight-phone-tripod the tripod moves.

The way I style a certain pony's hair will change between ponies because I don't remember how I styled it before and if I've had to flat iron it, I may not remember that it had been curly.

One of the great things about this being a hobby as opposed to a business is that I don't have to spend a lot of time on the parts that aren't fun (for me photography isn't fun), and don't have to be consistent. I just have to enjoy what I'm doing. If I can help out other people and get a little money so that I can keep doing what I do enjoy, that's a bonus.

Do you always ---

deflock So Soft Ponies?

No. I only do that when asked because I hate doing it. I will also deflock a pony I bought to clean and sell if the flocking is bad enough, but if the flocking is decent I don't ruin it.

straighten doll/pony hair?

No. I will do my best to preserve factory curl if it's present and the hair is in good enough condition it doesn't need flat ironed, but can't guarantee I will succeed...

How aggressively I treat hair depends entirely on the hair itself.

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part eight.

The thing is, you pride yourself on being stubborn.

Your parents hated it━ loathed that you wouldn’t give in when they demanded you find some other career path, something stable like finance or business. They hated that you moved out instead of submitting to their whims, and you imagine they hated even more that you declined every call and never answered any of the messages they sent for months afterwards until they gave up.

You’ll be the first to admit that it’s not a particularly marketable trait, nor is it very favorable in the eyes of others. It pisses people off more than anything, especially when they badger and push and prod and all you do is stand your ground. An old boss early into your career once nearly burst a blood vessel when you resolutely refused to take pictures at a private event━ threw a fit when you stuck by your morals to uphold the privacy of the athletes involved. But it’s a feature of who you are and it’s managed to save your ass more times than you can count.

Nonetheless, you also know that there’s a time when you have to swallow your pride and give in. Garrett and his threats to your career had been one of those times. A teacher in primary school and an argument about an uncompleted assignment had been another.

The situation with Lando, however, is not.

And just because Oscar is weirdly perceptive and creepily wise for his young age doesn’t mean you’re about to change things.

Why should you be the one to talk to Lando? Why should you reach out first to clear up the misunderstanding? He’s the one who misunderstood in the first place, and he’s the one that blew up without ever even thinking to give you a chance to explain what was actually happening.

If Lando wants you to talk to him again, then he’ll have to suck it up and apologize to you first. It’s the least he could do after implying the whole world thinks you’re a slut. It’s his fault you two aren’t talking in the first place, and the fact that he has the audacity to think you’ll just lay down and take it? That you’ll hear everything he had to say and just be fine with it?

Just thinking about it has you gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles the entire ride back to your flat.

This isn’t the first time the two of you have fought. It’s not even the first time Lando has been the one in the wrong. Beyond the disagreements the initial tension had caused in 2019, your worst spat was in 2021, following his crash at Spa during the qualifications for the Belgian Grand Prix.

The crash itself wasn’t the problem. You’d never get upset at someone for something out of their control, and Lando had hydroplaned because of track conditions and nothing else. But he’d been so nonchalant about it all, brushing off the medical staff with an “I’m fine,” and a “nothing’s wrong.” That, in and of itself, is not uncommon among Formule One drivers or even athletes in general. A lot of them disregard their own bodily limits and the damage they take if it means getting to do what they love, and Lando isn’t any different.

He’d had bruises all along his chest from his seatbelt and had needed to get a precautionary X-ray taken, but there hadn’t really been anything wrong. Even still, you’d fluttered about asking if he was okay, asking if medical had anything to say, asking if he thought he’d be well enough to race on Sunday. You’d understood that he’d probably been asked those same questions a few dozen times already in that hour alone, but he’d scoffed at your worry and told you to leave him alone.

So you did, after scoffing right back at him and snapping that you were just concerned and he didn’t need to be a bellend about it.

You’d ignored him for the rest of the weekend and stuck close to Daniel. Lando had had to corner you on the plane to finally apologize, and you’d jumped right back into the swing of things afterwards, laughing and joking around like none of it had ever happened.

That short fight seems like a cake walk in comparison to what’s happening now.

Deep down, there’s a desperate need for it all to go back to how it was before the winter off-season━ back when you and Lando would get drunk in each other’s hotel rooms on cheap wine while watching shitty reality TV, when you and Lando would make up stupid games in the airport waiting for your flights, when you and Lando would gossip like a couple of school girls about all the messy drama on the grid and around the factory.

But without Oscar’s infuriatingly mature outlook on everything, and his stupidly healthy way of perceiving relationships and the people involved in them, that same desperate need to have Lando in your life is buried down beneath your rekindled anger and a very justified pettiness.

Your flat is cold, dark, and empty when you push the door open. The sound of your keys clattering against the counter when you toss them echoes, as does the thud of your bag as you let it fall to the floor by your shoes.

You need to eat, shower, and sleep━ preferably in that order━ but when you open the fridge you divert your path from the tupperware of leftovers and reach for the pack of beers you never got around to finishing awhile ago.

Lando brought it around and you’ve never been much of a beer drinker, but he’d insisted you try it, so you had. The bitterness had clung to the inside of your mouth and you only made it halfway through your first bottle before handing it off for him to finish it for you. The rest of the pack had been allocated to your fridge for when he came over next, but that had never happened.

The fact that it’s beer is annoying enough, and the fact that it’s Lando’s beer pisses you off even more, but this is one of those moments where you have to push your stubbornness aside because you don’t have anything else and all you really want to do is get drunk and watch sad movies on your couch to forget about how upsetting your own life is at present.

You can’t cry over Lando if you’re already too busy crying over a fictional character.

It’s not particularly healthy, and you can imagine Oscar with his creepy omnipotence giving you a look for it, but you don’t really have the energy within you to bring yourself to care and Oscar isn’t actually there to judge you for it anyway.

The first half of February carries on similarly. You don’t get drunk every night, but you don’t talk to Lando either and Oscar’s heaving sighs and blatant exasperation whenever he third-wheels the frigidity between you and his teammate is explanation enough to what his opinion is on your choices.

But you’re standing firm.

It doesn’t matter that your phone sits heavy in the pocket of your trousers, searing into you like a hot coal with the knowledge of how easy it would be to just make a few swipes, press a few buttons, and end this whole thing━ to give in first.

The reality is that Lando did something shitty and you aren’t going to give him the impression that he has the ability to do similar shitty things in the future and get away with them.

So you cling to your hurt and your stubbornness, and you use every mildly annoying and slightly frustrating thing to keep the flame fueled within you.

Garrett helps, too.

You’re in Woking now, which is just over three and a half hours away from Manchester. Between the distance, your new schedule packed full with preparations for testing in Bahrain and the start of the season, and Garrett’s busier schedule with the resumption of the Champions League, neither of you have been able to find the time to be able to meet up for another staged date.

And it’s making Garrett fidgety. He wants results and he wants them now. Footballers always seem to have an inability to be patient, probably comes with the fact that they’re always on the move in one way or another, and this━ his reputation━ is no exception.

He sent you a bouquet of flowers for Valentine’s Day, which you posted on your story with a sickening amount of heart emojis, and you’d both made disgustingly sappy Instagram posts about the day and how hard it was to be apart for the sake of maintaining the illusion of being smitten with one another in your fledgling romance.

Since then, he’s been hounding you about when you’re free and reminding you rather unkindly about just what he’ll do if you even think about using your schedule to get out of the agreement the two of you have.

He doesn’t seem to understand that you’re contractually obligated to travel the country for the next ten months, and even if you wanted to spend time with him and pretend to be his perfect little girlfriend, you can’t.

It makes your mood even worse, and when you accidentally snap at a poor intern who’s only crime was asking you the same question twice, you decide you have to do something.

“Y/N!” Jack’s voice crackles over the phone, and the way he says your name alone━ the excitement and seemingly genuine joy laced in his accent━ makes you smile. “I thought you’d forgotten about me already.”

Much like Garrett, it’s been hard to stay in touch with Jack as well. Not as hard, because at least you like Jack and it makes it that much more motivating to put in the effort to reach out even when you’re exhausted from a day’s work and faced with hundreds of images you still need to sort through and edit, but still hard.

You message occasionally about the big things. He knows you leave for Bahrain in a few days to begin set up for pre-season testing, and you know that he got “White Girl Wasted” in Copenhagen after the team’s win. He also knows, from the few times you’ve called him tipsy and crying, anything and everything about the fiasco with Lando and just how deep it goes.

“As if I could possibly forget you, what with your amazing DJ skills,” you tease back, a bit self-consious of how your voice carries in the otherwise silent bathroom.

Jack laughs, deep and hearty. “Right. I’m a proper expert now, the lessons are paying off.”

“So what I’m hearing is now I’ll have to book you in advance to make sure you can play at my birthday party?” You dig the toe of your shoe against the tiled floor.

He hums, pretending to think on it. You can almost imagine how his face looks, eyebrows scrunched up and lips pursed to stop himself from smiling, like he’s having some intensely philosophical internal debate with himself. “You know,” he says after a moment of contemplation, “as a VIP customer, I think I can squeeze you in.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “But really, me and the lads all miss having you ‘round. I imagine a lot of them don’t like coming in anymore when they ain’t got a pretty face to look forward to.”

“Grealo, you flatterer,” you laugh. “I thought we agreed it was your job now to be the pretty face? You’ve got the cheekbones for it. And the hair.”

He heaves a dramatic sigh. “The lads just don’t appreciate me like you do.”

“Figures,” you murmur in mock commiseration.

Jack chuckles again and then clears his throat. “But real talk, though. What’s going on?”

You gnaw on your lip, worrying it between your teeth for a few seconds of baited silence before it’s your turn to heave a very real and very stress-induced sigh. “I don’t know,” you start, “I’m just stressed outta my mind and I can’t really talk about it with the people here, which makes it worse. I snapped at an intern and then lied to her about why I was stressed which made me feel doubly as bad.”

“Not fun,” Jack replies.

“Not fun at all.”

“What’s got you so stressed?”

“Everything,” you groan. “Garrett won’t leave me alone about trying to schedule another outting, but I can’t just leave and spend the day in Manchester with him on a whim. The factory is really hectic with everyone getting ready to go, and I’m included in that. But he seems to think I’m doing it on purpose, just to spite him, and if I wasn’t genuinely swamped with work then maybe but that’s not the case this time and he just won’t listen.”

You run your hand down your face, pinching at the bridge of your nose to try and alleviate the ache behind your eyes.

“He’s threatening me again, and I’m trying to explain to him what’s going on, but he’s a prick as you know so of course he isn’t listening. And on top of that,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “Lando’s still ignoring me. And because Lando won’t talk to me, Oscar thinks I should talk to him, except I still don’t think it’s too much to ask for a simple apology.”

Jack hums. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, sounds like.”

“Yeah,” you grumble. “Tell me about it.”

“I think, that you shouldn’t have to talk with Lando until he apologizes. Outside of work, at least,” he starts. “What he did, what he said, hurt you a lot and you’re entitled to that hurt. And if this Oscar guy keeps pushing you to talk when you obviously aren’t ready and don’t want to, then he doesn’t sound as wise as you said he was.”

You make a noise. “No, he’s like freakishly wise, Jack. Sometimes it makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing by sticking to this. I’m like, if he, of all people, is telling me I should talk with Lando, then maybe I should. Except I’m not. Because I’m pissed off.”

“And you’re entitled to being pissed off,” he says.

“It’s just messy,” you whine. “And I hate messy when it’s my life and not pretty people on TV or random logistical folks from the offices that I don’t know the names of because they never actually go to races.”

Jack hums again, “I feel you there. You just gotta take it one at a time, yeah? One foot in front of the other, and all that.”

“You got that from Rudolph,” you snort.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “and he’s a reindeer with a glowing nose and that’s pretty fucking cool so sue me if I pick the lad as one of my inspirations.”

You really do miss Jack. If Oscar plays the role of your little brother, then Jack takes the spot of the older one. His laughter is warm and friendly, familiar in the way that feels like coming home after a long day of work. From the day you walked in and found him waiting for you in your office, he’s always looked out for you.

Back at Etihad Campus, whenever the guys were telling stories, he’d always be sure to elaborate and explain who everyone and what everything is so you could feel included in it all. He was the first to take the plunge and invite you out the group dinners and hangouts, including you with the boys even when he didn’t really need to. You were a temporary addition to their team, and not even all that important, but he’d taken you under his wing and seemingly made it his mission to make you feel wanted.

He always just seems to know what to do.

“What do I do, Jack?”

“Well,” he drawls out, “with Garrett, I think you just gotta lay it out for him. Show him a screenshot of your crazy full calendar if you have to. He’ll listen eventually, you just gotta smack it into him sometimes. As for Lando…”

Jack sighs, “I think you’ve got two options here. You either keep waiting it out and hope he realizes how much of a total fucking muppet he’s being and apologizes, or you take the first step and start the convo.”

“What happened to making him jealous using Garrett?”

He makes a noise. “I don’t think you ever really wanted to make him jealous.”

“You’re right,” you mumble. You pull at a loose thread on your shirt. “Is it stupid that I think I’m still in love with him even after all this?”

“No,” Jack says. “I think if you weren’t still in love with him then you probably weren’t in love to begin with. It makes us do crazy things, things that hurt us sometimes.”

You both fall into silence.

“I wish I could go back in time and never even answer Garrett’s call,” you huff, hoping it hides how your voice cracks with emotion.

“I know you’ve already said it’d be too risky, but if you wanted to break things off with him, me and some of the other lads are all still willing to stand up for you if he tries to start any rumors,” Jack answers.

You shake your head, not caring that he can’t even see it. “It’s been too long now. If he comes out with some misconduct rumor he could just as easily make something up about the times me and him spent alone on our dates. Not to mention, with the way my comments and inbox was flooded with death threats just because I started dating him, I don’t want to imagine how bad it’d be if he purposefully weaponized his fans against me.”

You take a deep breath, “Even if my career somehow managed to survive, I don’t think I would.”

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: i have not gotten around to editing this, so i do sincerely apologize if there are any mistakes. it's nearly 5AM and i pulled a crazy amount of consecutive all-nighters while keeping up with the pre-season testing, so my brain isn't functioning as well as it probably should be, and that's also why it took me a little longer than normal to get this out. i'm running on four hours of sleep from last night and my hopes and dreams! so, alas, if there are any grammatical errors, that's why. anyways, i hope you enjoy! i'm very excited to begin working on the next part~

[bitter-bats-cult-of-the-moon]

Energy Explained in Other Systems

There is a lack of measurable evidence because any person that has worked with energies have had different experiences but were able to understand and manipulate energies according to their own will.

Energy has been used in many ways within culture and religion and have set beliefs depending on the system being practiced.

Next, are some given definitions defining energies within diverse philosophies.

Hindu = Prana

Chinese = Qi /Chi

Japanese =Ki

Greek = Pneuma

Hawaiian = Mana

Tibetan Buddhism = Lung

Hindu Philosophy

A Sanskrit word for "life force" or "vital principle" is often referred to as Prana. It is described as first coming down from the Sun and connecting all elements of the Universe. It has been invoked within the Hindu scriptures of the Vedas and Upanishads.

Prana is the belief of vitality surrounding all living beings. This energy is responsible for all bodily functions. There are five types of pranas, collectively known as the five vāyus.

1. Prāṇa:              Beating of the heart and breathing. Prana enters the body through the breath and is sent to every cell through the circulatory system.

2. Apāna:             Elimination of waste products from the body through the lungs and excretory systems.

3.Uḍāna:              Sound production through the vocal apparatus. It represents the conscious energy required to produce the vocal sounds corresponding to the intent.

4. Samāna:          Food digestions, repair or manufacture of new cells and growth, and heat regulations throughout the body.

5. Vyāna:             The energy that is needed for the body to have proper circulation, and the functions for the voluntary muscular system in which there is expansion and contraction processes throughout the body.

Chinese Philosophy

The earliest texts in which Qi or Chi is described was in 'Analects of Confucius' where it could mean "breath" and was combined with the Chinese word for blood.

Xue-qi, "blood and breath."

Living beings are born because of an accumulation of qi, and as the beings live out their lives the qi declines eventually resulting in death. This indicates that xue-qi referred to all living things, but it is believed that qi or chi exists within all things tangible.

For example, the wind is the qi or chi to the Earth, and the cosmic concepts of yin and yang are "the greatest of qi"

Yin and Yang which means "bright-dark," and "positive-negative" are the opposing forces needed in order to complement the concept of balance. There are thoughts that this duality symbolizes contradicting energy forces which manifest as light and dark, fire and water, expansion, and contraction. With this said, Chinese medicine states that the balance of negative and positive forms in the body are believed to be essential for overall satisfactory health.

Japanese Mythology

During the sixth and seventh centuries the Chinese word qi (or chi) was written using the same kanji script for their interpretation for energy being "Ki"

However, the meanings are a tad different.

While the Chinese use chi or qi to describe that energy exists in all things, animate and inanimate objects, the Japanese believe it is the creative flow and expressions used within our daily lives, martial arts, and symbolizes aspects of nature, and thusly the spirits. It is the transfer from living, animate beings in to inanimate which can change and manifest into various forms. It is the necessary intentions one wields.

Greek Mythology

Pneuma, "The breath of life" or "vital spirit" is composed of kinetic energies within the vessel, while Ignis is composed of thermal energies. All human beings need both kinetic and thermal energies in order to properly function.

In Greek medicine, pneuma is the form of circulation throughout the body's vital organs. Due to this the role, pneuma plays within the body to sustain consciousness. Some physiological theories suggest that the pneuma mediates between the heart, and the heart is regarded as the seat of the mind, and the brain.

In similar, Stoic philosophy, pneuma is the active and generative principles that are organized between the individual and the cosmos. The highest forms are the Gods, and the human soul. The human soul is believed to be fragments of the gods given life force in order to be born and given a vessel upon the physical plane. This exists within all animate and inanimate objects as energy transfers and changes.

Hawaiian Mythology

Mana, the spiritual energy of power and strength. This energy exists within places and people; however, it is said that mana is both external and internal concepts.

The Hawaiian people believe that individuals can gain mana or lose it depending on one's actions in everything that they do.

In mythology there were two ways to gain mana, and this was either done sexually or through violence.

To sexually gain mana one must invoke the god, Lono, deity of peace and fertility.

To gain mana through violence one must invoke the god Ku, deity of war and politics.

Tibetan Buddhism

Lung means the wind or breath. Exists as a key concept in Vajrayana traditions. Generally, it's concept relates to the understanding of the subtle body, and Three Vajras. Those three are the body, speech, and mind. Lung relates to the subtle flow of energy and the five elements. (Fire, Water, Earth, Space, and Air) Lung is mostly closely connected to the Air Element.

Lung has also been used to describe the winds or prana being used in conjunction with the subtle body during a time of exercise, but also more importantly everyday functions of the body and its own senses. There are five psychic winds which manifest into mahabhuta. These five relate to the lifeforce that animate the body-mind (namarupa) of all sentient beings.

The Five Root or Major Winds

The root winds support an element and is responsible for a function of the human body.

    The 'life-supporting wind' (Tib. སྲོག་འཛིན་རླུང་, sok dzin lung; Wyl. srog 'dzin rlung). Located in the brain, this lung regulates functions such as swallowing, inhalation, and concentration.

    The 'upward-moving wind' (Tib. གྱེན་རྒྱུ་རླུང་, gyengyu lung; Wyl. gyen rgyu rlung). Located in the chest and thorax, this lung regulates, among other things, speech, the body's energy and vitality, memory, mental endeavour and diligence.

    The 'all-pervading wind' (Tib. ཁྱབ་བྱེད་རླུང་, khyap ché lung; Wyl. khyab byed rlung). Residing in the heart, this lung controls all the motor activities of the body.

    The 'fire-accompanying wind' (Tib. མེ་མཉམ་གནས་རླུང་, me nyam né lung; Wyl. me mnyam gnas rlung). Found in the stomach and abdomen area, the fire-accompanying wind regulates digestion and metabolism.

    The 'downward-clearing wind' (Tib. ཐུར་སེལ་རླུང་, thursel lung; Wyl. thur sel rlung). Located in the rectum, bowels and perineal region, this lung's function is to expel faeces, urine, semen, and menstrual blood. It also regulates uterine contractions during labour.

The Five Branch Winds

The five branch winds enable the senses to operate.

    The naga wind (Tib.ཀླུའི་རླུང་, lu'i lung; Wyl. klu'i rlung). This lung connects with the eyes and sight.

    The tortoise wind (Tib. རུ་སྦལ་གྱི་་རླུང་, rubal gyi lung; Wyl. ru sbal gyi rlung). This wind connects with the heart and the sense of hearing.

    The lizard wind (Tib.རྩངས་པའི་རླུང་, tsangpé lung; Wyl. rtsangs pa'i rlung) associated with the nose and the sense of smell.

    The devadatta wind (Tib.ལྷས་བྱིན་གྱི་རླུང་, lhéjin gyi lung; Wyl. lhas byin gyi rlung) related to the sense of taste.

    The 'king of wealth deities' wind (Tib. ནོར་ལྷ་རྒྱལ་གྱི་རླུང་, nor lha gyal gyi lung; Wyl. nor lha rgyal gyi rlung). This wind connects with the body and the sense of touch.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Salad

Gif credit to original creator

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || Bucky can’t resist your offer in sucking him off.

Word Count || 820

Contents & Warnings || Fluff & Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, pet names (babe, baby, doll), oral (male receiving), teasing, face/throat fucking, spit/saliva, cum swallowing, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

TFATWS!Bucky Masterlist

I don’t do taglists anymore so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

It was a beautiful sunny summer day—a perfect day to invite some of your and Bucky’s friends over for a BBQ with delicious food and drinks.

Bucky was in charge of the meat on the grill, while your job was to prepare all the side dishes. Your friends had offered to help you with the preparations, but you declined. They were your guests, and you wanted them to relax and have fun in the backyard.

Since it was scorching outside, you made all the sides indoors with the air conditioning on full blast. Even with your summer dress, it was still almost too hot to function properly.

While preparing a salad, you felt a set of two muscular arms wrap around your waist, and a scruffy chin leans on your bare shoulder.

“Hi there, beautiful.” His low voice murmured in your ear sent shivers down your spine. A soft moan escapes you as he leaves light kisses on the back of it.

“Well, hello to you too. What brings you in here, babe?”

“To get more beer.”

“Sooo… shouldn't you grab it and bring it out to our friends instead of clinging to me?” you teased.

“How can I when you look so gorgeous in your pretty little summer dress, doll?”

You continued cutting the tomatoes while Bucky stayed connected to you—caressing your exposed skin and leaving kisses on your neck. His intentions sexual and a way to persuade you to have a quick session together before your friends noticed your extended absence.

You put the knife down and turned around in his grasp, coming face to face with him.

“Do you want me to suck your dick?”

His head did a slight takeback, eyes blinking furiously as he had a confused and intriguing expression on his face.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

“Where did this come from, doll?” His lips turned up in a smirk at the thought of you sucking him off right here, right now.

“Maybe I'm just in the mood to suck your dick. So do you want me to or not?”

“Fuck, you know I could never resist your offer, baby.” His thumb caressed your lips, thinking about them wrapped around him, making his cock twitch.

You grabbed his covered bulge and palmed him in your hand. The idea of sucking him off had his cock hardened.

“What about our friends, doll? What if they come in?”

“Well, you need to be my eyes and ears, Bucky boy, because I’ll be too busy with your cock in my mouth.”

He groaned in anticipation when you got comfortable on your knees—peering up at him through your thick lashes. Quickly, you undid his belt and pulled his denim shorts and underwear down—his hard dick springing into view, making you lick your hungry lips.

His hand petting your head lovingly gave you the encouragement you needed to have at him.

You kitten licked his tip—collecting the bead of pre-cum that was forming. The feeling of your tongue on him and the possibility of getting caught had him groan out.

He pushed your head on his cock, becoming impatient. He wanted to feel your wet and tight mouth constricting him. When he was nestled in your throat, he groaned out in satisfaction, his eyes closing in bliss.

You sucked him off like your life depended on it, slurping and moaning around his cock. Your mouth and hand worked together to bring him towards the edge. You released his length for a moment with a pop and spat on him—watching your saliva trickle down his heavy cock, making you hungry for more.

You took him all the way to the back of your throat again, making your eyes water. The light gagging made him shiver on the spot. You pushed through the slight discomfort, wanting to make him feel as good as possible.

He fucked your mouth hard, saliva dribbling down your chin with each force of his hips.

“So pretty and messy for me, doll.”

He was in awe as he watched you take each inch of him.

“Ah,” he leaned his head back while shutting his eyes tight, “I'm gonna come.”

A thrust or two more, and he was shooting his hot cum down your throat. You continued to bob your head on him until he was done spilling every single drop.

“Show me.”

You showed him your empty cavity—no trace left of him in your mouth.

“You’re so good to me, doll.”

“Bucky! Where the fuck is the beer, man!?”

“Coming!”

You giggled at his choice of wording; yeah, you just made him come about two seconds ago.

“I-I mean, I'll be right there.”

He fixed himself up and tucked his soft dick into his pants.

“I love you, doll, so much.” He quickly kissed your cheek before grabbing the beer and running out to your impatient guests.

Chuckling to yourself, you washed yourself up before continuing with the salad from earlier.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!