#like we sell them at work and everyone buys them

[fingertipsmp3]

I am once again sad that a person I bonded with in a dream is not real

[that-house]

Potion Vendor FAQs:

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.

Do you sell love potions? No.

Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.

Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.

Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.

Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.

So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.

Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.

Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.

Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.

Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.

Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.

Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.

So can you make poison potions? No.

Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.

Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.

How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.

You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.

Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.

Road trip? He lives in Seattle.

Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.

For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.

And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.

Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.

Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.

You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.

So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.

Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.

Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.

Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.

What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.

You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.

Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.

Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.

Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.

Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.

Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.

Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.

When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.

When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.

Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.

Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.

Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.

Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.

I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.

How did you know that? …I’m psychic.

Yeah? No.

You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.

Did you just miss a turn? Probably.

Are you sure we’re not lost? No.

You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.

Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.

Would it help if I said it was? It would.

Is it getting dark? Soon.

Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.

Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.

Should we find a motel? Sure.

One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.

You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.

Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.

Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.

How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.

How many beds are there? One.

Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.

Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.

How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.

Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.

For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.

Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.

Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.

Are you asleep? …

Yes? …

Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …

What should I say? …

Did you know that I had a really nice day? …

Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …

Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …

Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …

Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …

Did you know that you’re warm? …

Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.

Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.

Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.

What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!

Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.

You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!

Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.

Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.

You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.

Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.

Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.

How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.

Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.

150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.

Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.

And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!

Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.

And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.

So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.

So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!

Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.

Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.

Are you done eating? Yep.

Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.

How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.

Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.

Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.

What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.

Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.

Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…

Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.

Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?

When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.

Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.

What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.

Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.

What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.

Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.

Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.

What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.

I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …

Did he get his body modified? …

What sort of surgery could do that? …

How is he still alive? …

Did a fucking wizard do it? …

WHY? …

HOW? …

Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …

I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.

Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.

Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.

Can we do that? Of course.

Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.

Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.

Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.

Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.

How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.

How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.

That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.

Wanna fuck? God yes.

Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.

…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.

How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.

How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!

Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.

When will we get there? Noon-ish.

Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.

Is this Seattle? Looks like it.

Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.

Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.

So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA

Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.

Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.

So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!

How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.

Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.

Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.

Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!

Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!

Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.

I just caught this, but, FAQ? …

As in Frequently Asked Questions? …

How many times is Frequent? …

Have you known everything all along? …

How many times have you done this? …

Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!

And you say that every time? Yes. I do.

Do you love me? Yes.

How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.

Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.

Can I go now? Please don’t.

But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.

How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.

What happens at the end of this? It begins again.

And do I get replaced with someone else? …

Do I get replaced? …Yes.

Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!

You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.

How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?

Did you know my name is Alice? …

Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …

Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …

Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!

Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.

Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.

Be good to the next me, okay? I will.

Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…

What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.

Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.

What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.

What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!

What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.

Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.

What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.

What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!

So I should keep repeating something? Yes!

I love you? I love you too.

I love you? Again.

I love you? Keep going.

I love you? I’ll just let you talk.

I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …

I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!

I love you? Now can you make it a statement?

I love you.

You did it?

I did it!

You did it!

We broke the loop.

What now?

Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.

And then?

Whatever we want, forever.

I think I’d like that.

Remember that song from the beginning?

The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?

We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?

Let me off, let me in

Let others battle

We don’t need to battle

And we both shall win

Pressed in my palm

Was a stone from the beach

The perfect circle

Gave a moment of peace

Now I’m lying on the floor

Like I’m not worth a chair

I close my eyes and imagine

I’m not there.

[thewispsings]

please date my sister in law | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: the one where charles won’t rest until he gets his fiancée’s sister a boyfriend.

liked by maxverstappen1, yoursistersuser, 806,026 others!

charles_leclerc: are you a hot and single guy OR woman in monaco looking for the perfect lady? well boy do i have good news for you! here we have yn ln, my sister-in law, she’s VERY single, likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating, and knitting. if you are interested please comment below! SERIOUS OFFERS ONLY.

view comments below!

yourusername: what the fuck is this charles

charles_leclerc: this is me getting you a boyfriend?

yourusername: NO CHARLES THIS IS JUST NO. @/yoursistersuser TAKE HIS PHONE?

yoursistersuser: I HAVE BUT HE JUST KEEPS BUYING MORE

charles_leclerc: i cannot be stopped

user1: i’m interested?

charles_leclerc: no you are too ugly

yourusername: cha please stop

charles_leclerc: i will stop once i get you a nice PRETTY boyfriend

yoursistersuser: love, please delete this

charles_leclerc: i would do anything for you… except deleted this. yn needs a bf, she’s been to lonely lately

yoursistersuser: but this doesn’t help her get a boyfriend charles

charles_leclerc: but it will!! have faith

user2: he’s trying to sell her like she’s a dog?? 😭

user3: “likes long walks on the beach, napping, eating” IS SHE A DOG CHARLES??

user4: this is borderline weird and thoughtful at the same time

user5: charles get engaged and goes crazy

user6: i’m interested!

charles_leclerc: no you are far too short

yourusername: what’s the point of this if you’re just going to reject everyone

charles_leclerc: i need to pick someone suitable, i don’t need someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures

yourusername; then how about you delete this and don’t have to worry about “someone ugly or short ruining my wedding pictures”

charles_leclerc; but i don’t want you alone and sad in the pictures either!

user7: yn doesn’t have a bf?? she’s gorgeous

user8: charles you work with 19 perfectly rich, fine, and tall?? (not really, depends) men, set her up with them

user9: girl half of those men are taken

user8: okay so like 8 rich, fine, and tall (??) men, those are still lots of chances

oscarpiastri: what is going on?

charles_leclerc: are you interested oscar? because you’d be my top pick.

oscarpiastri: i’m too busy with racing for relationships right now, sorry!

yourusername: i just got rejected in front of the whole world through my brother-in law. CHARLES PLEASE STOP THIS

user9: hey so this is crazy!

user10: it’s cute that he cares enough about this too make a whole post

yourusername: charles please stop i’m getting so many dick pics

user12: gross

user13: oh that’s not…

user14: #freeyn

user15: why is he trying to sell her like a dog

user16: if this actual works, i fear we will never hear the end of it from charles

charles_leclerc: all those who are sending dick pics to my sister-in law WILL be reported for harassment. you are lucky my fiancé is holding me back from posting your small dicks all over social media.

user17: POST THE SMALL DICKS CHARLES, DO IT

user18: STOP HOLDING HIM BACK!! LET HIM BE FREE

user19: when he’s protective over his soon to be family >>

user20: three days into summer break and charles has gone crazy

yourusername: i gave you permission to propose to my sister and this is how you repay me?

yoursistersuser: we’re stuck with him for this rest of our lives 😓

yourusername: please, don’t remind me.

user21: “guy or woman” is yn gay?

charles_leclerc: yes! she is half homosexual :)

yourusername: jesus charles

charles_leclerc: what? it’s true!

danielricciardo: can you do one of these post for me?

charles_leclerc: you are rich, tall and buff. no.

charles_leclerc; @/maxverstappen1, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri, @/carlossainz55, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo, @/landonorris who’s interested? 😁

alex_albon; nope

danielricciardo: this weird mate

oscarpiastri; i’ve already said no

landonorris: no thank you

carlossainz55: no thank you

georgerussell63: shakes head

yourusername; kill me now

charles_leclerc: okay. whatever. i don’t care.

carlossainz55: he cares

charles_leclerc: on a completely totally unrelated note @/maxverstappen1, join me for coffee tomorrow morning?

maxverstappen1: sure 👍

— cafe near charles house, 9am, on the dot.

— max verstappen has posted a new story!

[caption: nice cafe 👍]

story responses:

charles_leclerc: hehehehe 😈

user22: SO YOU AND YN WERE HANGING OUT??

user23: that twitter user wasn’t lying??!?!??

user24: charles set you and yn up huh 😼

danielricciardo: who goes to a cafe and gets tea?

maxverstappen1: yn does. and then i felt awkward ordering something else.

danielricciardo: it’s been years and she still makes you nervous?? 🤣

maxverstappen1: shut it

landonorris: i’m surprised you didn’t run away in fear when you say her instead of charles

maxverstappen1: so does everyone just know about charles plan or what?

landonorris: pretty much yeah!

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 501,026 others!

yourusername: july and august photo dump 👍

view comments below!

charles_leclerc: my wedding is in a week, why are you posting on instagram and not freaking out?

yourusername: i can multitask

charles_leclerc: maybe you having a bf was a bad idea, you are too distracted 😑

yourusername; lalalala can’t hear you

user23: boyfriend you say? 😏

user24: 2 months and shes been seen "hanging out" with max more then 10 times, AND she justs posted jimmy or sassy (i cant tell the difference) what are you tryna say yn?

user25: man i can’t believe charles actually got yn a boyfriend

user26: and it’s MAX. like his max.

user27: how do yall even know theyre dating?

user25: context clues babes

user28: this is the closest we’ll get to yn and max making it “official”

user29: i feel like if they go to the wedding together, that’ll be them making it “official”

user30: oh definitely

maxverstappen1: puzzles are hard

yourusername: they’re easy when you focus on

maxverstappen1: how can i focus when i when i have a gorgeous woman should as yourself near me?

landonorris: that was smooth man 👏

maxverstappen1: thank you, i’ve been practicing

user31: and people are still saying they aren’t together??

user32: people want them to post a story wirh the caption “this is us making it official” 💀 like babes this is the best we’re going to get

user33: i can’t believe the wedding of the century is in ONE WEEK??

user34: it feels like just yesterday when charles accidentally told the whole world he was engaged

liked by charles_leclerc, yourisistersuser, and 1,026,027 others!

yourusername: today, my sister married an idiot

view comments below!

user35: that wedding was so fucking gorgeous

user36: charles and yn planned the whole thing?? fuck f1 we need them as party planners

yourusername: planning this wedding was the most stressful thing in my fucking life. i never want to plan anything ever again

user37: well the wedding was beautiful so, worth it?

user38: i was expecting a much more emotional caption

user39: she got all her emotions out during her speech 😭

user40: OMG HER SPEECH WAS THE CUTEST THING. “charles you have changed mine and my sisters life for the better. you have introduced me to someone who makes me feel like i’m on cloud 9.” THE CAMERA PANS TO MAX??? “i know we joke and what not, but… i don’t know, just…thank you for making me feel like family.” TEARS ARE STREAMING DOWN MY FACE “i love you both so much,” I CRIED, CHARLES CRIED, EVERYONE CRIED

user41: we will never get that amount of emotion from yn ever again

user42: i will enjoy it while it last

yoursistersuser: i did indeed marry an idiot.

yourusername: it’s okay tho! we still like him

charles_leclerc: awwwww 🥰🥰

user43: charles just ignoring the idiot part

user44: it’s been a good day. yn and max made itt official, charles got married, and the wedding was gorgeous

user45: f1 twt has never been so peaceful

user46; RIGHT??? everyone’s just celebrating the marriage

maxverstappen1: will we have a big wedding?

yourusername: absolutely not. unless charles plans it by himself, we’re getting married in a courthouse

charles_leclerc: are you serious? you’ll let me plan your wedding?

yourusername: you proved yourself with this wedding so yes

charles_leclerc: AHHHHHH OMG OMG OMG I HAVE TO GET STARTED

user47: first it started with him trying to get her a bf, now he’s planning her wedding

user48: i feel like a proud mom watching her kids grow up 😢

. . .

notes; pls pls pls send me blurb or smau request!! i have 2 weeks left of vacation and i must make the most of it

[foone]

why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

[taylor-titmouse]

hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Google’s enshittification memos

[Note, 9 October 2023: Google disputes the veracity of this claim, but has declined to provide the exhibits and testimony to support its claims. Read more about this here.]

When I think about how the old, good internet turned into the enshitternet, I imagine a series of small compromises, each seemingly reasonable at the time, each contributing to a cultural norm of making good things worse, and worse, and worse.

Think about Unity President Marc Whitten's nonpology for his company's disastrous rug-pull, in which they declared that everyone who had paid good money to use their tool to make a game would have to keep paying, every time someone downloaded that game:

The most fundamental thing that we’re trying to do is we’re building a sustainable business for Unity. And for us, that means that we do need to have a model that includes some sort of balancing change, including shared success.

https://www.wired.com/story/unity-walks-back-policies-lost-trust/

"Shared success" is code for, "If you use our tool to make money, we should make money too." This is bullshit. It's like saying, "We just want to find a way to share the success of the painters who use our brushes, so every time you sell a painting, we want to tax that sale." Or "Every time you sell a house, the company that made the hammer gets to wet its beak."

And note that they're not talking about shared risk here – no one at Unity is saying, "If you try to make a game with our tools and you lose a million bucks, we're on the hook for ten percent of your losses." This isn't partnership, it's extortion.

How did a company like Unity – which became a market leader by making a tool that understood the needs of game developers and filled them – turn into a protection racket? One bad decision at a time. One rationalization and then another. Slowly, and then all at once.

When I think about this enshittification curve, I often think of Google, a company that had its users' backs for years, which created a genuinely innovative search engine that worked so well it seemed like *magic, a company whose employees often had their pick of jobs, but chose the "don't be evil" gig because that mattered to them.

People make fun of that "don't be evil" motto, but if your key employees took the gig because they didn't want to be evil, and then you ask them to be evil, they might just quit. Hell, they might make a stink on the way out the door, too:

https://theintercept.com/2018/09/13/google-china-search-engine-employee-resigns/

Google is a company whose founders started out by publishing a scientific paper describing their search methodology, in which they said, "Oh, and by the way, ads will inevitably turn your search engine into a pile of shit, so we're gonna stay the fuck away from them":

http://infolab.stanford.edu/pub/papers/google.pdf

Those same founders retained a controlling interest in the company after it went IPO, explaining to investors that they were going to run the business without having their elbows jostled by shortsighted Wall Street assholes, so they could keep it from turning into a pile of shit:

https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/

And yet, it's turned into a pile of shit. Google search is so bad you might as well ask Jeeves. The company's big plan to fix it? Replace links to webpages with florid paragraphs of chatbot nonsense filled with a supremely confident lies:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/14/googles-ai-hype-circle/

How did the company get this bad? In part, this is the "curse of bigness." The company can't grow by attracting new users. When you have 90%+ of the market, there are no new customers to sign up. Hypothetically, they could grow by going into new lines of business, but Google is incapable of making a successful product in-house and also kills most of the products it buys from other, more innovative companies:

https://killedbygoogle.com/

Theoretically, the company could pursue new lines of business in-house, and indeed, the current leaders of companies like Amazon, Microsoft and Apple are all execs who figured out how to get the whole company to do something new, and were elevated to the CEO's office, making each one a billionaire and sealing their place in history.

It is for this very reason that any exec at a large firm who tries to make a business-wide improvement gets immediately and repeatedly knifed by all their colleagues, who correctly reason that if someone else becomes CEO, then they won't become CEO. Machiavelli was an optimist:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

With no growth from new customers, and no growth from new businesses, "growth" has to come from squeezing workers (say, laying off 12,000 engineers after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years), or business customers (say, by colluding with Facebook to rig the ad market with the Jedi Blue conspiracy), or end-users.

Now, in theory, we might never know exactly what led to the enshittification of Google. In theory, all of compromises, debates and plots could be lost to history. But tech is not an oral culture, it's a written one, and techies write everything down and nothing is ever truly deleted.

Time and again, Big Tech tells on itself. Think of FTX's main conspirators all hanging out in a group chat called "Wirefraud." Amazon naming its program targeting weak, small publishers the "Gazelle Project" ("approach these small publishers the way a cheetah would pursue a sickly gazelle”). Amazon documenting the fact that users were unknowingly signing up for Prime and getting pissed; then figuring out how to reduce accidental signups, then deciding not to do it because it liked the money too much. Think of Zuck emailing his CFO in the middle of the night to defend his outsized offer to buy Instagram on the basis that users like Insta better and Facebook couldn't compete with them on quality.

It's like every Big Tech schemer has a folder on their desktop called "Mens Rea" filled with files like "Copy_of_Premeditated_Murder.docx":

https://doctorow.medium.com/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself-f7f0eb6d215a?sk=351f8a54ab8e02d7340620e5eec5024d

Right now, Google's on trial for its sins against antitrust law. It's a hard case to make. To secure a win, the prosecutors at the DoJ Antitrust Division are going to have to prove what was going on in Google execs' minds when the took the actions that led to the company's dominance. They're going to have to show that the company deliberately undertook to harm its users and customers.

Of course, it helps that Google put it all in writing.

Last week, there was a huge kerfuffile over the DoJ's practice of posting its exhibits from the trial to a website each night. This is a totally normal thing to do – a practice that dates back to the Microsoft antitrust trial. But Google pitched a tantrum over this and said that the docs the DoJ were posting would be turned into "clickbait." Which is another way of saying, "the public would find these documents very interesting, and they would be damning to us and our case":

https://www.bigtechontrial.com/p/secrecy-is-systemic

After initially deferring to Google, Judge Amit Mehta finally gave the Justice Department the greenlight to post the document. It's up. It's wild:

https://www.justice.gov/d9/2023-09/416692.pdf

The document is described as "notes for a course on communication" that Google VP for Finance Michael Roszak prepared. Roszak says he can't remember whether he ever gave the presentation, but insists that the remit for the course required him to tell students "things I didn't believe," and that's why the document is "full of hyperbole and exaggeration."

OK.

But here's what the document says: "search advertising is one of the world's greatest business models ever created…illicit businesses (cigarettes or drugs) could rival these economics…[W]e can mostly ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers, ad formats and sales."

It goes on to say that this might be changing, and proposes a way to balance the interests of the search and ads teams, which are at odds, with search worrying that ads are pushing them to produce "unnatural search experiences to chase revenue."

"Unnatural search experiences to chase revenue" is a thinly veiled euphemism for the prophetic warnings in that 1998 Pagerank paper: "The goals of the advertising business model do not always correspond to providing quality search to users." Or, more plainly, "ads will turn our search engine into a pile of shit."

And, as Roszak writes, Google is "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand." That is, the company has become so dominant and cemented its position so thoroughly as the default search engine across every platforms and system that even if it makes its search terrible to goose revenues, users won't leave. As Lily Tomlin put it on SNL: "We don't have to care, we're the phone company."

In the enshittification cycle, companies first lure in users with surpluses – like providing the best search results rather than the most profitable ones – with an eye to locking them in. In Google's case, that lock-in has multiple facets, but the big one is spending billions of dollars – enough to buy a whole Twitter, every single year – to be the default search everywhere.

Google doesn't buy its way to dominance because it has the very best search results and it wants to shield you from inferior competitors. The economically rational case for buying default position is that preventing competition is more profitable than succeeding by outperforming competitors. The best reason to buy the default everywhere is that it lets you lower quality without losing business. You can "ignore the demand side, and only focus on advertisers."

For a lot of people, the analysis stops here. "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product." Google locks in users and sells them to advertisers, who are their co-conspirators in a scheme to screw the rest of us.

But that's not right. For one thing, paying for a product doesn't mean you won't be the product. Apple charges a thousand bucks for an iPhone and then nonconsensually spies on every iOS user in order to target ads to them (and lies about it):

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

John Deere charges six figures for its tractors, then runs a grift that blocks farmers from fixing their own machines, and then uses their control over repair to silence farmers who complain about it:

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

Fair treatment from a corporation isn't a loyalty program that you earn by through sufficient spending. Companies that can sell you out, will sell you out, and then cry victim, insisting that they were only doing their fiduciary duty for their sacred shareholders. Companies are disciplined by fear of competition, regulation or – in the case of tech platforms – customers seizing the means of computation and installing ad-blockers, alternative clients, multiprotocol readers, etc:

https://doctorow.medium.com/an-audacious-plan-to-halt-the-internets-enshittification-and-throw-it-into-reverse-3cc01e7e4604?sk=85b3f5f7d051804521c3411711f0b554

Which is where the next stage of enshittification comes in: when the platform withdraws the surplus it had allocated to lure in – and then lock in – business customers (like advertisers) and reallocate it to the platform's shareholders.

For Google, there are several rackets that let it screw over advertisers as well as searchers (the advertisers are paying for the product, and they're also the product). Some of those rackets are well-known, like Jedi Blue, the market-rigging conspiracy that Google and Facebook colluded on:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

But thanks to the antitrust trial, we're learning about more of these. Megan Gray – ex-FTC, ex-DuckDuckGo – was in the courtroom last week when evidence was presented on Google execs' panic over a decline in "ad generating searches" and the sleazy gimmick they came up with to address it: manipulating the "semantic matching" on user queries:

https://www.wired.com/story/google-antitrust-lawsuit-search-results/

When you send a query to Google, it expands that query with terms that are similar – for example, if you search on "Weds" it might also search for "Wednesday." In the slides shown in the Google trial, we learned about another kind of semantic matching that Google performed, this one intended to turn your search results into "a twisted shopping mall you can’t escape."

Here's how that worked: when you ran a query like "children's clothing," Google secretly appended the brand name of a kids' clothing manufacturer to the query. This, in turn, triggered a ton of ads – because rival brands will have bought ads against their competitors' name (like Pepsi buying ads that are shown over queries for Coke).

Here we see surpluses being taken away from both end-users and business customers – that is, searchers and advertisers. For searchers, it doesn't matter how much you refine your query, you're still going to get crummy search results because there's an unkillable, hidden search term stuck to your query, like a piece of shit that Google keeps sticking to the sole of your shoe.

But for advertisers, this is also a scam. They're paying to be matched to users who search on a brand name, and you didn't search on that brand name. It's especially bad for the company whose name has been appended to your search, because Google has a protection racket where the company that matches your search has to pay extra in order to show up overtop of rivals who are worse matches. Both the matching company and those rivals have given Google a credit-card that Google gets to bill every time a user searches on the company's name, and Google is just running fraudulent charges through those cards.

And, of course, Google put this in writing. I mean, of course they did. As we learned from the documentary The Incredibles, supervillains can't stop themselves from monologuing, and in big, sprawling monopolists, these monologues have to transmitted electronically – and often indelibly – to far-flung co-cabalists.

As Gray points out, this is an incredibly blunt enshittification technique: "it hadn’t even occurred to me that Google just flat out deletes queries and replaces them with ones that monetize better." We don't know how long Google did this for or how frequently this bait-and-switch was deployed.

But if this is a blunt way of Google smashing its fist down on the scales that balance search quality against ad revenues, there's plenty of subtler ways the company could sneak a thumb on there. A Google exec at the trial rhapsodized about his company's "contract with the user" to deliver an "honest results policy," but given how bad Google search is these days, we're left to either believe he's lying or that Google sucks at search.

The paper trail offers a tantalizing look at how a company went from doing something that was so good it felt like a magic trick to being "able to ignore one of the fundamental laws of economics…supply and demand," able to "ignore the demand side…(users and queries) and only focus on the supply side of advertisers."

What's more, this is a system where everyone loses (except for Google): this isn't a grift run by Google and advertisers on users – it's a grift Google runs on everyone.

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/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

[sashaforthewin]

Multi-chapter fic on Ao3

Steve had been enjoying a nice relaxing lounge by the pool despite it being night. He had his hearing aid off and his fruity drink and a romance novel Robin had let him borrow. He was determined to have a good time despite the circumstances. 

Someone tapped his foot, scaring the crap out of Steve and making him drop his book and nearly knock over his drink. 

It was a fellow cruise passenger and he was saying something. Steve turned his hearing aid back on.

“Sorry, what?”

“I asked why you were out here instead of at the concert,” repeated the man with a smile.

“Oh, um. I’m not actually a fan of metal music. It gives me headaches if I listen to more than one or two songs in a row,” Steve admitted sheepishly.

This stranger was still clearly a metal head, but he looked significantly less scary than most of the ones he had seen so far that day. Everyone Steve met had been nice, but Steve hadn’t felt comfortable telling anyone he wasn’t a fan until now. Maybe because it was just the two of them out here and he was smiling so cutely. 

“Not a metal fan? Well damn, not to critique your life choices, but I think maybe going on a metal cruise wasn’t an ideal choice for you? I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

There were plenty of deck lounges around, all empty, but Eddie sat down on Steve’s right next to his legs. 

“Steve. So Steve, why are you on a metal cruise when you don’t like metal? These tickets were not exactly cheap and there’s no way you missed the theme, it was pretty clearly advertised,” Eddie asked teasingly.

Steve looked Eddie over, noting that he was actually pretty cute. Pretty eyes, nice full lips, dimples, and he was that type of lanky Steve was drawn to. He had good skin and his hair had some volume and texture to it, Steve could work with that. Bit of a fixer-upper, but a better starting point than most of the men that had flirted with him since his last failed relationship. He also had the vibe, so Steve decided this guy would be fine to open up to. 

“Well, Eddie, I bought this ticket for my dear friend Dustin for his birthday, but then the little shit went and outed me to my parents. Accidentally, of course, and he feels like shit about it. But still, that got me kicked out of my home so maybe I’m being petty but I decided he shouldn’t get to go on this cruise after all. I forgive him, it really was an accident, but still, gotta teach him a lesson.” Steve shrugged. “And I would’ve gotten the ticket refunded but the money would’ve gone back to my parents and they clearly don’t deserve to get anything back from me. So, instead of trying to figure out how to sell a ticket to a very niche interest cruise, I figured I deserved to just come and treat myself for four days before I have to go back to living in my ex-girlfriend’s basement. It’s actually pretty nice to have the ship to myself while all you guys are in there shaking your heads to loud music.” Steve gestured to the pool and the drink.

“Ex- girl friend’s basement?” Eddie asked.

“Shut up, I’m bi.” Steve smacked Eddie on the arm with his book. 

Eddie grabbed the book and looked at it as he replied, “Hey, just checking to make sure I’m not barking up the wrong tree.”

“Oh? Is that what you’re doing, barking up my tree?” Steve said, playfully.

“If you’ll let me,” Eddie flirted back.

“So how come you’re not in the show right now?” Steve asked, gently stealing his book back from Eddie’s grasp.

“Oh, I’m touring with those guys right now, I have heard them play the same set like fifteen times already. I’d much rather be out here getting to chat with you. You know you’re beautiful, right? How come you don’t live with your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?” Eddie asked, quite obvious in his fishing for information.

“I’m single and yes, I do know I’m beautiful, but I still like hearing it. Are you like a roadie or something?”

“Actually,” Eddie said, “I’m the lead guitarist in the headlining band. We play tomorrow night. Can I buy you another drink? Maybe dinner?”

“The, uh, the bill goes to our cabins,” Steve answered, too shocked that an apparently famous musician was asking him out to respond appropriately.

“Baby, I’ll put your entire tab on my cabin if you’ll let me. You are the most beautiful, and dare I say cleanest man on this entire boat. Metal heads are great, but they aren’t really my type.”

Steve takes a sip of his cold drink just to make sure he’s not fallen asleep and dreaming. The ocean is calm and the moon is full and he is most definitely awake.

“And what is your type?” Steve asked. 

“Handsome men with soft hands who will let me pamper them,” Eddie said, picking up Steve’s hand and feeling his lack of calluses. He placed a kiss onto each finger tip. “These hands aren’t meant for labor, let me spoil you rotten.”

Well, Steve reasoned, even if this ended up being just a weekend fling, it was going to be worth the price of admission.

[utilitymonstermash]

In California due to prison over crowding and a policy called realignment, many sentences are now served in county jail. Recently I came across this very funny jail memoir in The Newsweek.

On race:

I knew that I had to join the Peckerwoods, a notorious white supremacist gang. But I am by birth half-Jewish. I have a Jewish last name too, so I was fearful.

My plan was to pretend I was German since my last name is Yiddish, so pretty similar sounding. It's probably not politically correct to say this, but I also don't look like a stereotypical Jewish person, at least in the eyes of neo-Nazis.

I also think my image played into it. They saw a crackhead from Skid Row who weighed 130 pounds and just didn't connect that with a Jewish guy. So I got away with it. They believed I was just a German-American. They had no suspicion whatsoever.

For about three or four weeks, I played along. But I soon realized there was no need to. I never heard anything really racist or antisemitic.

There was another man named Lou. He was probably 50 years old, and every day, he would get a different meal than everyone else—a special meal in a blue box—and people lined up to buy it.

I was curious. I looked in the garbage and saw there was Hebrew lettering on this blue box so I knew Lou was probably Jewish. I asked Lou if he was, and he said yes, that's why he gets the kosher meal.

I said: "I'm Jewish too, actually." He didn't really care. I said I had told the shot caller—a kind of gang leader—and all the guys that I was German when I came in, and now I'm thinking about getting the kosher meal.

I asked what he thought the consequences would be of revealing that I was Jewish. He said: "Oh, well, they're not going to care that you're Jewish, but they are going to care that you lied. So, I would just go talk to the shot caller privately and work this out."

I expected a very violent repercussion for lying. There are violent repercussions for everything, from not washing your hands after using the bathroom to getting caught sharing food with another race.

I talked to the shot caller. He was pretty angry that I lied, but at the same time, he said: "Listen, I'm half Armenian. I'm not even fully white. We don't really care. These are just the rules and we have to follow them.

"As the shot caller, if it gets out that I'm not enforcing these rules, I'll get stabbed on the yard.

"You lied. You got to come clean to all the boys, and it's not a big deal. Just when you get the kosher meal, make sure that white guys get preference over buying it. If no one white wants to buy the meal, then you can sell it to the other races."

On managerialism:

Violence is highly organized in the California prison system. I was in county jail, but it's just as bad as prison, if not worse.

If you get into an altercation with someone, you're not allowed to fight them. You have to go to your shot caller, and he has to go to his shot caller, and the shot callers must decide whether you're allowed to fight in a very controlled environment.

[...]

I had to fight people for breaking very stupid rules, such as sharing food with a Black person—a rule that I think is ridiculous. To be honest, my shot caller thought it was ridiculous too. He told me personally that he shared food with Black people all the time; he just had to keep it secret.

[...]

It's Kafkaesque; there's some kind of bureaucratic overwatch going on and you don't even know if it exists or not, but you just have to follow these dumb rules.

A shot caller is your gang leader in jail. This is not the leader of the entire gang but the leader in your pod, meaning your dorm.

Every gang has a shot caller, and then that jail has a head shot caller, and then the whole prison system has a single shot caller somewhere at the top that is this Wizard of Oz-type overlord who no one ever really sees but somehow enforces the rules.

On yarmulke:

I'm not a practicing Jew; I never was, and no one in my family really is. But when you get the kosher meal, they also give you a yarmulke for some reason.

When the other inmates saw the yarmulke, they were mesmerized by this magical Jewish hat. The people who ran the world wore these hats, they thought, and now they were around one in a jail cell.

The Mexican shot caller would request to wear it when he gambled to bring him financial luck. This started sort of a buzz in the jail, and eventually, lots of people were requesting to wear it. Even neo-Nazis requested to wear it when they were gambling.

I asked them to treat it with respect, not because I am religious, but I thought: "My ancestors were religious. Don't be disrespectful."

The amount of respect they had for this yarmulke was actually disturbing; the fact that a Nazi with swastika tattoos would be so polite about a Jewish yarmulke.

On tolerance towards the Jews:

Once it came out that I was Jewish, I experienced zero antisemitic hate. It was more of a fascination. A lot of these people had never met a Jewish person. They pictured Jewish people as owning banks and companies and potentially even the jail.

So when they saw this Skid Row homeless addict who was Jewish, a lot of light bulbs went off about their preconceived ideas. Immediately, they asked: "What are you doing here? Can't you make a phone call? Don't you know a lawyer?"

I said: "No, I'm Jewish. My dad was a heroin addict carpenter. Not all Jews are what you think they are."

It opened up a lot of playful conversations with these people. They were fascinated with the concept that Jews were lawyers, so I started getting a lot of requests to consult people on their cases.

I had to tell them: "Listen, I'm a carpenter crackhead homeless guy. I'm not a lawyer."

They didn't care; they wanted to go over their cases with me. There was almost some soft antisemitism, but it mostly was playful and fanciful obsession and inquiry. They thought I had mystical powers.

[...]

I have stayed in touch with some of the people in jail. Not all white people were Nazis. In fact, a small minority identified as neo-Nazis; most just identified as Peckerwoods. I've kept in touch with both.

On demographics as destiny:

I talked to Lou about it, and he said that there used to be some problems for Jews, but in the end, the white gangs have such low numbers that they don't really care. They needed people.

[trashfangirlsworld]

Hello! I've been inactive due to the current events in the mcyt community, but I've been keeping up with the qsmp admin situation and I thought I'd share some opinions because the amount of doomposting I've seen the last few weeks has been more than I've seen in any fandom in a while and I feel like it's reached the point where people really need to chill the fuck out because they're not thinking straight and actively not helping. Everything I'm gonna say is based on stuff I've seen on both tumblr and twitter.

they should not promote/release merch! : one of the things that baffles me the most tbh; how do you expect any employee to be payed then? Merch is so far the only big source of income for the server besides q's own cc salary or whatever income they get through the official qsmp channel on twitch and youtube (which I don't think is a lot). "I get that they said they have no funds, but still it doesn't feel right"... sorry but at this point I don't know what to tell you, do you expect them to pull money out of their asses? You can't demand that they stop making merch and then complain that they can't afford the twitter admins at the same time. If you don't feel comfortable buying anything from them it's fine obviously, but if your reason for it is that you're helping the admins then I have bad news for you. I have seen people propose that quackity sets up a patreon, and while I think it would be a good idea, I understand why he's not doing it, since with the merch he can at least give something back to the people that choose to support his project instead of people just giving him money for free, especially with what's happening now. Also with how much hate he's been receiving simply for the merch I can't imagine that a patreon would be recieved well.

we don't know if the money is going to the admins/ they should not use pomme's likeness! : the money is definitely going to go to the employees and admins because otherwise the server would not last. And as much as I understand people feeling protective over pomme's admin, quackity studios is very much allowed to sell merch of the character because it is not the likeness of the admin, it's a minecraft model made by the people that work there. Would you have rathered they skip her character entirely? Do you really think that would have been okay?. Also correct me if I'm wrong, but I've seen posts and tweets saying that pomme's admin has been confirmed to come back with the other eggs whenever it happens by pierre, who talked with her admin.

the admins of the update accounts got fired, it means they want to fire everyone, they aren't making things better! : it sucks that the updates accounts had to end and I feel bad for every twitter admin that clearly cared a lot about the project, but unfortunately it had to happen if there simply isn't enough money to pay them adequately like they deserved and ultimately the update accounts were not essential to keep the project going, so it makes sense that they were let go unfortunately. This is not gonna be the case for the egg admins because if they got fired (which they didn't), the server would basically end. Just because a cc does not know when they will be back does not mean it's not gonna happen. Just because tubbo randomly said that he's not sure if they will be back does not mean they were fired; tubbo is normally not a reliable source of information, even less so when he's been live nonstop for the past 20 days, which is prior to everything happening. If you genuinely didn't expect a reduction in non essential staff considering everything, then you have unreasonable expectations on how this stuff goes. As I write this, I'm seeing people saying that "they would understand this decision if q had set up a patreon to pay the admins", and once again I don't understand how people don't realize why quackity might not be keen on the idea of having his fans pay his own employees for his own project instead of, you know, doing it himself; and, again, do not fool yourself into thinking it would be recieved well. That being said, it's fair to criticize how everything was communicated to the admins, but I'll get to this in more detail later.

quackity should not have uninstalled social media, he's trying to avoid everything! : he's not avoiding anything, he's been off social media for a while now, which is why it took him that long to remove wilbur from the server. He has every right to not want to look at social media, as his focus should be on restructuring his server instead of doomscrolling on twitter because people think he needs to see how much people dislike him. The only people that he should talk to are those that have important information to tell him, like josè with the document. He explicitly said on stream where to contact him if you have helpful information and I'm sure that despite multiple well liked posts saying not to spam his email, people are definitely doing it anyway, which is probably gonna slow the whole thing down even more. I hope josè's document is able to be seen with pierre's help as well.

quackity studios is not communicating with their employees and leaving them in the dark and that's not okay : I agree with this. i think a huge chunk of doomposting lately has been due the lack of communication not with the audience, but with the admins, and they deserve to know what is happening behind the scenes more then us since this is about their current or future job.... that being said, I do kind of understand why they're being so secretive and shutting everyone out, and that's due to all the "leaks" that have been spread online. I understand the anger but I really wish some people would realize that discussing leaked bts lore stuff in ccs discord servers does not help the situation at all and instead makes it seem like they're only doing this to rile up the fandom against quackity studios by using the lore of people's fav characters.

At the end of the day, I think people just aren't used to dealing with a situation that does not have a clear cut solution and someone to clearly hate, so the result is this doomposting and the over aggressiveness toward anything related to the project. Personally, I haven't witnessed anything that made me lose faith in the qsmp like some people have been saying, as every change that we've seen so far coincides with what quackity said on stream a while ago. I only wish things were communicated properly to the admins clearly, as they're the ones most affected, so I hope that's resolved soon. Ultimately quackity is singlehandedly restructuring the server from basically zero, has had to fire people that were misusing money and power and, depending on what josè's document said, is probably gonna have to fire some more. This is not an easy process, nor a quick one, you're not gonna hear about sunshine and rainbows for a while and doomposting about everything you hear because you expected quick change is useless. Think before you speak, have a clear head and most importantly have empathy.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

clone - a - willy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Gojo Satoru x Chubby Fem Reader ɞ

❥ Summary: You've been paired up with Gojo Satoru for a class and you've developed a crush on him. After his fraternity holds a "Clone-a-Willy" fundraiser, and your friend buys you a dildo of his dick, your feelings grow stronger. You just hope he never finds out...

❥ Word Count: 4.2k

❥ CW: chubby fem reader, smut, female masturbation, oral sex (fem receiving), penetrative sex (penis in vagina), petnames (princess, pretty), biting

───────────────

Smart. Handsome. Rich. Gojo Satoru was all these things, and now he was your lab partner.

You were shocked when you were given the assigned seat next to him and told that you would be partners for the semester. He was so polite too, nothing like the usual frat boys you met in your other classes.

“I’m Gojo Satoru! Nice to meet you! Let’s work hard this semester!”

God, his cheerfulness was intoxicating. No wonder you developed a crush on him during your first meeting.

It was just a little crush, nothing to sneeze over, but your roommate noticed how your disposition changed in just a couple weeks. She teased you endlessly, asking for details about the infamous Gojo Satoru of Alpha Phi. She’d heard rumors, just like you, of how he was a playboy and a huge flirt, but you hadn’t experienced that in class yet, much to your roommate’s disappointment.

“Damn, I was really hoping he was an ass like everyone said, you know, just so you could say the rumors are true about frat boys.”

You shrugged it off, just grateful that Gojo was kind to you and helpful during your labs together.

But things changed when Alpha Phi held a fundraiser.

You didn’t hear much about it until you got back to your dorm after the day’s classes and had to listen to your roommate gush about the event.

“You would not believe what they did this year!” You sighed, taking off your shoes by the door.

“What did they do?”

Your roommate didn’t reply. Instead she reached into her bag and pulled out… a dildo?

“What—”

“They did a Clone-A-Willy fundraiser!”

You stared, shocked at the tan silicone toy, blinking rapidly.

“They… sold dildos?”

“That are copies of their own dicks!”

You kept staring, shocked, unsure of what to say.

“This is Geto Suguru’s dick. Isn’t it big? God, I can’t wait to use it.”

“I—”

“But don’t worry!” she interrupted, going back into her bag and pulling out yet another large dildo. “I got one for you too! Guess whose it is.”

Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.

“No—”

“Yes! It’s the Gojo Satoru’s dick in dildo form! Surprise! Happy birthday, happy New Year’s, happy whatever holiday you wanna celebrate!”

Your hand went to your mouth, trying to cover your expression.

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I totally did. Gojo was out there selling em too, flirting with all the girls who bought his toy. And there were a lot of them too, I actually got one of the last ones just for you!”

“Ashley… This is insane. I can’t accept this.”

“What? Why not? I got it just for you. You don’t have to worry about the cost, I’m not gonna make you pay me back—”

“No! No, I… Ashley, he’s my lab partner. This is so inappropriate.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s nothing to worry about. You have a crush on him, we both know that, but unless you’re gonna start coming out of your shell and actively flirt with him, you’re never gonna get that dick. This will give you the chance to experience his dick without committing to the guy.” You rubbed your hand over your face.

“Ashley… This is so wrong…”

“Oh, Y/N, please calm down. Why are you getting so upset over this? It’s just some harmless fun. If Gojo didn’t want people to use these dildos, he wouldn’t have made them in the first place. He’s okay with it.”

“But—”

“Look,” she started, opening your nightstand drawer, “you don’t have to use it if it really makes you uncomfortable, but I can’t take it back so you might as well keep it just in case.”

You couldn’t fight her on this, not when she gave those pathetic puppy dog eyes, pleading for forgiveness.

“Alright, fine. But I’m not going to use it!”

That’s what you told her. That’s what you told yourself. But you found yourself drawn to the girthy toy in your nightstand. The next time you had the dorm to yourself, you took it out and examined it in detail. It was thick, your hand barely able to wrap around it, and it was long too, long enough to reach deep inside you, hit all those spots that your stubby fingers would never be able to reach…

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when you used the toy that same day, fucking yourself vigorously with it, making yourself whine. It felt so fucking good, filling you up so nicely, making you cum over and over again.

You cleaned and hid the toy before your roommate came back, and you promised yourself it wouldn’t happen again.

You were very good at lying to yourself. Every chance you got alone, you were grabbing that toy, fucking yourself nice and deep in between your classes. You’d started imagining Gojo there with you, fucking you good, praising you all the while for taking his fat cock. You felt guilty for it, but you couldn’t help but moan his name quietly, wishing he was there to treat you right. Would he be slow and sweet? Or hard and fast? Would he call you a good girl or his precious little slut? Would he make you cream or squirt? Your thoughts swirled endlessly as you came on the toy once again, pulling it out and panting hard.

This was getting out of hand. You couldn’t be developing feelings for your lab partner like this. He even began to notice a change in you.

“Is something wrong?” he asked one day in the library while you were working on your project together. You cleared your throat, shying away when he leaned in closer towards you. God, his cologne smelled so good—

“I’m fine,” you lied, swallowing hard. You couldn’t look at him after what you had done the day before, after you had ridden his dildo for close to half an hour, cumming almost a dozen times. You couldn’t stop wondering if he would ever try to make you feel that good.

“You sure? You’ve been acting off the last few classes, and you’re not talking as much as usual.” He leaned forward into your line of sight, smiling softly, speaking quietly. “Look, if something’s wrong, we can reschedule. Maybe we could go someplace less stressful and not as packed? Maybe the lobby of the physics building? Or we can go to your dorm if that makes you comfortable?”

Here he was, being so sweet and considerate, and all the while you were masturbating to the thought of him using a dildo that was a literal copy of his dick. You felt so ashamed, and yet the thought alone was currently turning you on, making your legs clench.

“It’s okay. I can keep working.” He gave an unsure frown but nodded.

“Alright, if you say so, but I’m serious about working somewhere quieter next time. Maybe it’d be easier to finish this at your dorm. That way you’re comfortable and not as stressed about finishing this.” You smiled at him genuinely.

“Thank you, Gojo. We can go to my place tomorrow. My roommate has classes till five, so maybe we could meet right after lunch? That should give us enough time to finish what we don’t get done today.” Gojo smiled back at you, and you swore you could feel your heart skip a beat.

“Sounds good. We could meet up for lunch if you want. I have a class at ten but then I’m free the rest of the day.”

You felt your heart pound, and you nodded a bit too enthusiastically.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

So, that’s what you did. You met at your chemistry building before walking to an on-campus cafe. You had a quick lunch, mostly talking about your project and your respective classes before you made your way to your dorm.

“Here it is,” you said after you unlocked the door, opening it wide and walking inside. You both discarded your shoes by the door before locking it and heading farther into your room.

“Nice place,” Gojo stated, looking around at the posters you had on the wall. “You like this band too?”

“Oh, them? Yeah, I’ve been a fan for a few years.”

“Really? That’s crazy. I haven’t met anyone on campus yet who likes em. What a coincidence,” he said with a toothy grin. You felt your heart flutter, but you shook your head and took out your laptop, plugging it in and sitting at your desk.

“Yeah, what a coincidence…”

The two of you started working quickly, you at your desk, Gojo on your bed with his own laptop. You were pretty quiet, making the occasional comment about your work before going back to silence. It was about an hour later when Gojo pushed his laptop to the side, lying back and stretching.

“Man, I’m beat! Thank God this project is pretty much done. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

You hummed, glancing over at him, just to find him on his phone.

“Damn, I’m at 20%. Do you have a charger I could borrow?”

“Uh, yeah. Check the drawer on my nightstand.”

You didn’t realize what you said until the nightstand drawer opened.

“W-Wait—”

It was too late. Gojo had already pulled out the toy and proceeded to stare at it. You could feel your face burn as you stood up.

“I-It’s not what you think! My roommate got it for me as a joke!” He kept staring as he sat up, making you panic. “I-I haven’t even used it! It’s just been sitting in there collecting dust, ha ha!” Gojo hummed, scraping his nail along the toy.

“Something weird is dried on it…”

Fuck, you must not have cleaned it well. You rushed to his side, pulling the dildo away from him and hiding it behind your back.

“Look, I know this is weird, and I’m super sorry, but I promise it’s just a joke! Nothing’s happened, we can just go back to studying and—”

“Y/N,” he said low, standing up to his full height, looking down at you. “Be honest with me. Have you used that toy before?”

You felt like you were backed into a corner. Your stomach was flipping like crazy, making you sweat. You couldn’t answer him, couldn’t do anything but look down at the floor.

“Have you… thought about me while you did it?”

You still couldn’t answer, but you felt yourself shrink in on yourself. You could see his fists clench and unclench in your line of sight. Fuck, he was mad, he must’ve been. Why else would he be so quiet? Maybe he was disgusted with you. Maybe he would yell at you and stomp out. Shit, what if he told your secret to all his friends? What if you became the laughing stock of your university?

“Y/N. Look at me.”

You hesitantly looked up, meeting his icy blue gaze. You were about to apologize, beg him not to say anything to anyone, promise to do all the work the rest of the semester if he would just keep quiet. But you didn’t have the chance to.

Before you could blink, Gojo leaned forward and kissed you.

Your eyes widened, hands dropping the dildo behind you as his lips moved against yours. Your hands instinctively went to his chest—you could feel his muscles through his shirt—nails digging into the fabric. His hands found your waist, pulling you to him, hips pressed together. You pulled away when he licked at your lip, staring up at him, cheeks burning.

“I… I don’t understand,” you whispered, eyes searching his face. He was blushing, glowing when he smiled down at you.

“I got a confession to make, Y/N.” His arms circled your waist, keeping you flush to him. “I’ve kinda been crushing on you all semester.”

Your eyes widened, jaw going slack.

“You… what?”

“I can’t help it!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “You’re just so sweet and nice and smart and pretty! I’m sorry for throwing this on you, really I am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

You shook your head, taking a step back.

“This isn’t funny, Gojo. Don’t play with my feelings.”

“I’m not, I swear! Here, look at me,” he said, taking your hands and looking deep into your eyes. “I really like you, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t say it till now, but I’m telling the truth.”

“You… you mean it? You’re not joking around?”

“No, Y/N. I would never joke about this. I swear to God, I like you so much that it’s keeping me up at night.”

You couldn’t believe it. The Gojo Satoru was confessing to you. Not even in your best dreams did you think this would be happening to you.

“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you closer, leaning towards you. “Is it okay if I prove how much I like you?”

“P-Prove?” you stuttered, picking up on his flirting. He nodded, pulling you to his chest again, arms flying around your waist.

“Wanna show you how much I like you.”

You hesitated, feeling your skin burn, your cunt clenching in anticipation.

“O-Okay… you can sh-show me.”

“Yeah? Pretty girl wants me to show her how crazy she makes me?” You stifled a whine, nodding quickly, only making his smirk grow. “Good. How about you get on the bed for me?”

You found yourself complying with his demands, inching towards the bed and sitting on top, waiting for his next move. He stood between your legs, staring down at you for a good long while before his hands went down to your hips.

“Can I take these off?”

You nodded, letting him unbutton your jeans, lifting your hips so he could slide them off. Your jeans and panties were discarded onto the floor, and Gojo fell to his knees.

“Your thighs are so warm and soft,” he muttered, kneading your legs, making you leak. “I love seeing how they squish when you sit down. I’ve thought about laying my head on them way too much.”

With that, he rest his forehead against your thighs, nuzzling into you, humming to himself. He pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh, making you inhale sharply, squeezing your legs shut tighter. He clicked his tongue, weaving his hand between your legs.

“Don’t hide from me, princess. I wanna show you how I feel.”

He pulled apart your thighs, spreading them wide, revealing your chubby pussy to him. He sighed, leaning forward to place a kiss on your upper pussy, nosing his way down between your legs. He kissed your pudgy pussy lips, flicking his tongue against them, making you tremble. His slender hands trailed up your thighs, peeling apart your pussy lips, revealing yourself to him.

“Oh God… your pussy… it’s so pretty,” he spoke in disbelief, staring at you. You felt yourself grow embarrassed, squirming under his gaze.

“Please… don’t—hah!”

His tongue darted out, flicking your clit with the tip. His blue eyes stared up at you, watching your expression contort as his tongue flattened against your clit, licking it fully. He moved it up and down languidly, blinking slowly as he gained a rhythm. After a minute, he began drawing patterns—circles and figure eights. At one point you wondered if he was spelling his name because you could’ve sworn he was writing in cursive with his tongue.

You soon became a moaning mess, resting back on your elbows, hips twitching into his mouth. You gasped when you felt his finger prod at your entrance, circling it, dipping in just the tip before pushing in down to the knuckle.

“God, you’re so tight, too. How in the world did you fit my dildo inside? Fuck, just thinking about you masturbating with it turns me on like crazy.”

“I-I’m sorry f-for using the t-toy!” you whined, voice pitching when he curled his finger, hitting your g-spot.

“Don’t apologize, princess. I think it’s so fucking hot. I was hoping you would show up that day to get one, but I must’ve missed you.”

“It-It was from my f-friend.”

“Ahh, nice friend, getting you such a nice toy to play with. Shit, if I had known you were using my dildo, I would’ve confessed a lot fucking sooner. So much time wasted.”

He added a second finger, pumping the two of them in and out at a steady pace. You could hear how wet you were, your cunt clenching around his fingers as he thrust them into you. You fell back on the bed, back arching as you felt pressure build inside you.

“Oh my God… you’re pulsing around me. You gonna cum? Ya gonna cum on my fingers? Fuck, I want you to, please, I want it so bad.”

His mouth went back to your clit, forming an ‘O’ shape around it, sucking harshly. The action made you squeal, hands finding his hair, tugging at the white strands. You only made him moan against you, the vibrations sending you into a frenzy. His combined efforts were putting you through a whirlwind of sensations, hurtling you towards your peak.

“G-Gojo, please, I-I-I—”

“Go on, pretty. Let go for me. Wanna see you cum on my fingers.”

That was it. That was enough to send you over the edge. Your breath hitched, mouth falling open as you came. You gushed around his fingers, back hurting from how hard it was arching off the bed, thighs clenching next to his cheeks. The moment passed, and you could feel yourself coming down from your high.

But he didn’t stop.

You cried out, begging him to let up, to slow down, but he wasn’t listening. He kept sucking at your clit, fingers pumping quickly, making you climb towards another climax far too quickly.

“Gojo, Gojo! Please, stop, I-I can’t! Please, I—ah!”

It was too late. You were cumming again, trembling under his hold. His mouth and fingers slowed down, helping you down from your peak, guiding you back to Earth. He released your clit, pulling away, a string of spit connecting him to your cunt.

“Holy shit. That was good. Do you always cum like that or was it because of me? Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t know if my ego can take it.”

You giggled, breathless, eyes traveling from the ceiling to between your legs where Gojo was sucking your slick off of his fingers, moaning at the taste.

“God, and you taste good too. Not fair!”

You both laughed. You sat up, reaching for him. He got up, complaining for a moment about his knees hurting before he leaned down to kiss you sweetly, his tongue prodding into your mouth. You opened up for him, deepening the kiss, moaning into him. You felt good, really good, and you wanted to keep things going.

You pulled away, staring up at him lustfully.

“Do you wanna keep going?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. He blushed, huffing out a laugh.

“God, I do, I really fucking do, but…” He sighed, hanging his head. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“That’s okay,” you replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”

His head whipped up, almost busting your lip in the process.

“Really?! And you’re okay with having sex without a condom?” You nodded, making him smile. “Jeez, and here I thought you couldn’t get anymore perfect.”

He stood up, pulling his shirt off, revealing his chiseled physique. He undid his belt, eyeing you the whole time he pulled down his zipper and pushed his pants down. It was all very sexy until he tried to kick off his pants, tripping over them and stumbling to the side, catching himself on your nightstand. You covered your mouth, stifling your laughter. He chuckled as well, brushing himself off even though he was blushing hard.

Gojo joined you on the bed, helping you out of your shirt and bra, letting you lie down and relax against your pillow. He massaged your thighs as he spread them open.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” You nodded, humming in confirmation. He nodded back at you, holding the base of his cock and directing it towards your cunt. “Okay… I’m gonna put it in.”

He pushed the head of his cock into you, hissing quietly at the tight fit. He stopped once the head was in, glancing at you to make sure you were okay. When you nodded at him, he pushed in further, moving slow, steadily, purposefully. Once he bottomed out, he let out a shaky sigh, laughing lightly.

“You’re… you’re tighter than I thought,” he huffed, already out of breath as he met your gaze. “I-I’m gonna move now.”

He pulled back, leaving in just the tip before pushing back in slow, savoring every ribbed inch of your cunt. He pulled out again, pushing in faster, beginning a steady pace.

“Oh… Oh wow. You feel… so much better than I thought you would.”

“Yeah? You like it?” you asked, voice small and sweet.

“Mm-hm. Never thought I’d get to do this, ya know. I thought you’d reject me if I confessed to you.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes widening. He nodded, moving a little faster, making you moan. “I… I had a crush on you from the first moment we met…”

“You did?” You nodded, making him huff. “No way… no fucking way. You liked me all this time? You didn’t just wanna fuck me?”

“N-No… You’re so sweet and nice… I thought you were so cool, Gojo, too cool for me.”

“What? No way… If anything, you’re too cool for me.” He moved faster, making you bounce along the bed. “You’re so fucking smart. I don’t have a clue what’s happening in class half the time, but you do. And you’re so pretty too. You���re way out of my league.”

Your cunt clenched around him and he groaned, moving from his hands down to his forearms, leaning closer towards you. You moved forward and kissed him gently, making him moan in your mouth, tongues dancing as he slowed his pace just a bit. He savored feeling your lips against his, petting your hair, marveling at its texture. He pulled away to stare down at you as he started moving faster again, pumping his cock in and out of you, making you gasp.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled, glancing over your figure. “I love your body. I love your curves. You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about you.”

“G-Gojo—”

“Please, call me Satoru. Wanna hear you say my name.” You swallowed, cupping his cheeks.

“S-Satoru… It f-feels good!”

“Yeah? Feels good? What feels good, baby?”

“Your cock… It feels so good inside me…”

“Yeah? Better than that silly dildo, right? Do I fuck you better than that little toy?”

“Mm-hm! So much better!”

His eyes rolled back and he thrust faster, hands traveling over your form. He palmed at your breast, pinching and pulling your nipple, making you whine. His mouth found your other nipple, sucking hard, making you perk up in his mouth. His tongue rolled around your nipple, mouth slobbering on it. He moved his mouth to your other nipple next, his hands moving to your belly, squeezing and molding it.

“You’re so fucking soft,” he whispered in disbelief. “How are you so fucking soft?”

“I mean… I-I moisturize…”

“But still… I’ve never felt skin as soft as yours. I kind of envy you,” he said with a laugh, making you laugh as well. “God, and your giggle. It’s so fucking cute. I just wanna bite you.” You bit your lip, looking up at him innocently.

“You… you can bite me… if you want…” His eyes widened.

“Fuck, say less.”

He dipped down towards your neck, kissing and licking at it before digging his teeth into you, biting down. You moaned at the feeling, his cock pumping even faster now that he was latched onto your neck. He sucked hard, hands rubbing your plush tummy as he fucked you harder. He pulled back with a loud ‘pop’, admiring the mark he left behind.

“Fuck, I… shit, I think I’m gonna cum. Can I cum in you, pretty thing? I know that’s a lot to ask, but I can’t fucking stand it.” You nodded quickly, moving your hand between your legs to rub your clit.

“Y-Yeah… you can cum in me.”

Satoru groaned, pushing your hand away and replacing it with his own, moving his fingers quickly to get you to the edge. You moaned, throwing your head back into the pillow, hips bucking up to meet his. You rocked against each other, moaning each other’s names, begging and pleading for God knows what as you simultaneously reached your highs. His hips lost their rhythm, moving faster, more erratically. The unpredictable rhythm made you climax, nails digging into Satoru’s pale back as you came. He followed right after, groaning low as he released inside you. He almost collapsed on top of you as he came, bracing himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t crush you. His hips twitched, the last bit of cum spilling from his cock and filling you up.

The two of you were panting, rubbing your noses against each other as you came down from your highs. He eventually pulled out, watching his cum leak from your abused cunt, smiling softly. He fell to your side, sighing, pulling you towards him and kissing your cheek.

“So,” he started, smiling at you, “guess you won’t be needing that dildo anymore, huh?”

───────────────

[i-am-a-fish]

I WANNA RANT ABOUT SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED AT WORK TODAY

I GOT SCOLDED FOR HAVING BASIC HUMAN EMPATHY AND THIS JOB SUCKS

if you do not wish to have that negativity on your dash, then keep scrolling on by 😌 and if you're worried, don't be, I'm fine and everyone is fine, it ain't that bad

NAH IT'S ACTUALLY REALLY BAD

I just didn't wanna worry people who didn't have the energy to read an essay

I work as a tour guide and we have a strict no-free-tours policy. Everyone riding "must" buy a ticket. The thing is our tours are outrageously expensive, like almost $20 per person.

The tours are outside and in a big park, and it's very humid today. There was a little kid, no older than 5 who fainted from heat stroke today. Their parents asked me for a ride back to the entrance so they could get home as soon as possible (and get to the air conditioned welcome center).

With no hesitation I tell them of course and offer them a free ride back to the welcome center. I don't even ask them if they have tickets or not because it does not matter, they needed help, and there was plenty of space on the bus to bring them back home.

Because I do this, my manager calls me into his office, he's very mad, and he scolds me for giving those people a free ride.

like??? WE HAVE A VEHICLE, THAT CAN BRING THEM TO A SAFER PLACE VERY QUICKLY

I DO NOT CARE ABOUT COMPANY POLICY, HUMAN SAFETY COMES FIRST

If someone needs help, and I can help them, I will not try to sell them a ticket, not that I even have a cash register with me to do so.

just. what the hell

have some empathy.

The kid is definitely alright by the way, I got them their free ride and into the air conditioned building, so no need to worry. I'm just upset

[ghostlyferrettarot]

◆Pick a picture: 🪩Random messages from your soulmate🪩

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open.

♥︎If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!♥︎

🪩Masterlist🪩

🪩Pile 1:

♥︎" You will be at the top of the world soon"

♥︎" It's time to focus"

♥︎" I love what you do with your hair"

♥︎"The better days are coming, you can sense it too, right?

♥︎" I'm always by your side, when you feel lonely just remember me"

♥︎" Just speak your mind love, you make the rules"

♥︎" Get better rest, you deserve that"

🪩Signs: Butterflys, Sharks, The nature breeze, green, spring time, gold jewerly, dimples.

♥︎I feel like soulmate wants you to take a well deserve vacation or rest time pile 1, you may be dealing with a lot at the moment and your body and mind need to recharge. I also see that you are a perfectionist at heart, they want you to take it easy and be kinder with yourself, you will reach your goals, don't worry.

🪩Pile 2:

♥︎" Your smile it's worth a millon dollars"

♥︎"Enjoy the present, we still don't know what's coming next"

♥︎"I do not need anyone else, you are my favorite already"

♥︎"Don't be so grumpy"

♥︎"Buy the thing, treat yourself, it will make you happy"

♥︎"I'm happy when you are happy"

♥︎"I don't like mornings but you sure make them better"

♥︎"Let's just be you and i for a moment"

🪩Signs: Minimalist aesthetic, you may see them in dreams, clouds, polar bears, blue and white, pink, picnics dates.

♥︎Pile 2 your soulmate wants you to prioritize your happiness right now, i see that you are someone who always put everyone else first; your person says that although they love this about you, you can't lose yourself taking care of others. It's time for you to enjoy and care for yourself the same ways you do with others. They love and care for you really deeply.

🪩Pile 3:

♥︎"I love the way you look at me"

♥︎"Let's go on adventures together!"

♥︎"Can i come over? Can i hug you tonight?"

♥︎"I'll literally buy anything you are selling"

♥︎"I can hear you talk for hours, just admiring you"

♥︎"I'm clingy but i know you love it ;)"

♥︎"You are the ying to my yang, no one compares to you my love"

🪩Signs: Cats, Fruits , Air signs, Complementary colors, Videogames and music.

♥︎Pile 3 your person it's so fun, i feel like the both of you will make an incredibly couple. Both will share a lot of inside jokes, there's a level of complicity that's so precious between you two 😭. This person may communicate with you through music. You two will share a lot of hobbies and could possibly start a business together. You are my "Friends to Lovers" pile.

🪩Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated🪩

[kedreeva]

Okay, I haven't wanted to talk much about the peafowl lately, been just kinda dealing with Stan's passing, but! I have news I don't want to keep quiet, so here we go with a little announcement.

I've been helping a friend of mine with a bunch of peafowl genetics work lately, as he's trying to prove out a really neat phenotype of speckled and white peafowl that showed up in his breeding stock, and he just spent tens of thousands of dollars importing two new morphs from Europe: European violet (aka, my dream morph) and Ultramarine (pretty and only otherwise being produced by TWO breeders in the WORLD). When Bill heard about Stan, he asked if I was going to go to a large farm auction that's a few hours from my house. I don't, normally, since it's a few hours from my house and the auctions usually make me kinda sad when it comes to peafowl (they stress out SO MUCH) even though it's cool to see how much they're going for at a wider audience auction.

Then he told me he would be going, and that if I wanted to come down the day before the auction, he'd bring me another male, to replace Stan. I had already made plans to hang onto Bismuth, at least for a few years, and to pick up babies from Indie x Arcana/Eclipse this november, including a male, so I didn't really need another male, and don't have the cash for one anyway. He said no, he meant one of the split EUV males from last year's first-USA breeding. For free. As a thank you for helping him.

To put this into perspective, importing the birds is a ~$10k affair, per bird. I had fully resigned myself to never even SEEING one of these birds in person, much less ever owning one. Even if someone else got them imported, they would remain thousands of dollars for the first few years, and quickly become mixed with other stuff, potentially even be lost by people breeding to purple. He went in on a group import with another breeder and they have both just started selling the full-color birds for over $2k apiece (alongside Ultramarine, which before their import was bred by TWO people in the WORLD, and babies from that are going for almost $7k each, but EUV is more widely spread). Splits (like the one I will be getting) are being let go for $750. This is also the color I have desperately wanted since I first saw them 8-10 years ago (though I believe they've been around slightly longer), but that I had resigned myself to never actually having.

To put it mildly, I'm probably going to burst into tears when I see Bill and this bird. It's going to be super embarrassing. And then I'm going to have to build more pens. And then I'm going to have to get as plain-blue, pure-indian blue hens as I can find, and become one of the most serious curators of plain pure EUV in the US, because I know the other two who have them currently will be outcrossing to other patterns/colors immediately and the people buying them will likely be doing the same, and everyone will be clamoring to make them into high Spaldings ASAP, or won't know not to cross them to purples and wreck the color.

Here's the sire cock, the one imported:

You will notice that this bird is purple in full sun, from the sunny side. That's the main difference between European violet and US purple- a US purple looks blue until you get the right angle on the sun vs the bird vs the camera, and you have to get the bird between you and the sun, so the purple is often in the shadow side- visible to the eye but not the camera. EUV is just purple. Even from the sunny side!!

And the Ultramarine, in case you were wondering about their color:

(pics reposted w/ permission from Bill)

The breeder is Spring Creek Peafowl, and in case anyone is secretly a peafowl breeder or knows other peafowl breeders with too much money that want in on a new color morph, he DOES have UM pairs and EUV hens (and more split males) for sale currently, for less than the only other person in the US that has them. They're still pricey, but cheaper. I WISH I had the extra to have my friend add on an EUV hen, but alas, I will have to wait to make my own in a few years. Even just the opportunity to do so is something I never expected to have!

[russellsppttemplates]

How about a girlfriend that does charity and she does it with the driver maybe Lando? when they’re home together (like idk buying and donating things for orphanage or women’s shelter) if you’re comfortable with he idea

"I don't mind auctioning my stuff away, but how about some of your things too?", Lando suggested as you sorted through his wardrobe and helmet and racesuits collections.

"I've been donating clothes that are still in good shape - your clothes have more value because they've been worn by you, so it brings in more money", you reasoned, "no one would buy anything from me", you shrugged your shoulders.

"We could try, though! Chat is always crazy about you and I think they would be down for that. Say this dress here - didn't you tell me that it pinched you and it hurt your boobs?", he pointed to a black dress you wore to a team Christmas dinner, "I certainly don't want you in pain and never hurting these", he cupped your boobs, smirking like a horny teenager, "so maybe it would be good to sell and then donate that money?", he suggested.

"I doubt anyone would pay good money for it, but sure, we can try! And we could throw this one in the mix too, and this shirt - if anyone's paying for anything it's because it's a good piece", you mumbled.

"Hi guys! Chat is all excited because you're here, see?", Lando kissed your temple and secured you on his lap, "today's stream is a little different, and you might have seen a little bit of it from the stories I put up earlier this week", Lando explained, "earlier this week Y/N and I made a big order of clothes and some furniture for an orphanage back home. They have an amazing program to ensure kids have a future in what they want to study or work in and we're also visiting them soon, and we thought you guys would want to help too if you wanted!", he smiled.

"This seems like we're decluttering the house - and in a way we are, to be honest, but there's this organisation here in Monaco that helps new parents in need - anything from diapers, formula, wipes, medications, clothes - and since we don't know much about that", you said as Lando chirped in, "not yet", smiling as he kissed your temple again, "since we don't know much about it, we were thinking of auctioning Lando's racesuits and a spare helmet, and all of the money would be going to that organisation", you explained, still blushing from his comment.

Lando put up the website where you had uploaded the photos and details, "someone says "there are some of Y/N's dresses here, are they for auction too?" - Yes, they are! This one wasn't so sure anyone would buy them so please buy them because a) it's for a good cause and b) I would get to tell her "I told you so" and get bragging rights for being right", he smiled smugly.

"Wow, you're really loving it", you spoke to the stream as the pieces or clothing were getting higher and higher bids, "guys, thank you so much! You have no idea how happy this makes me, us! We donate to this organisation every year and now we thought we could make a bigger contribution but never this big, thank you so much", you smiled, feeling a bit emotional and how caring and giving everyone was being, even people typing in the chat that they had made a direct money donation with the quantity they were able to give.

"What can I say? I'm always right", Lando charmed, praising himself as you cuddled closer to him, "you were", you whispered.

"Louder, baby, the chat can't hear you say I was right", he chuckled.

"Oh, the lady at the orphanage just sent us pictures of the kids doing their homework on the new desks!", you showed Lando the pictures you were sent, "I wish we could show you guys, but the little faces are showing", you said, pursing your lips and scrolling through until you found one of just the room, "this one doesn't! Look at how great their room looks now!", you gushed as you showed the camera.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[neptuneiris]

Cruel Summer (02/10)

Paradise Beach

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: after a bad day at work, you head to the beach of your dreams, where an unexpected encounter occurs with a person who is too well known in the city and very rich.

words: 7.7k

previous part • next chapter • series masterlist

omg i can't believe how much you guys liked the first part! i really thought the story wouldn't get so much support (especially since i haven't finished CYPTBIL👀) but you guys again surprised me🤗 i'm very inspired with this story so i'm very happy for all the support, so enjoy this new chapter and look forward to the others!🙌🏻

thank you for reading!

warnings: none in this chapter.

You hate to see the beach dirty.

You've always had a problem with people who leave all their trash on the beach without any remorse and in full view of everyone. Many people will be embarrassed to confront them and create a fuss, but you... you defend the beach.

The first community program you see that brings people together to clean up the beach to better help the ecosystem, you're the first to sign up.

And that's the bad thing about living in Black Waves.

The beaches are not the best kept. There is dirt everywhere, the smell is horrible and really very few people make an effort to keep the beaches on this side clean.

The complete opposite on the beaches of Crown's.

This is mainly why you want to make a difference, to have clean and beautiful beaches despite the 'status' that the rich label you in the worst way.

You've seen their beaches and they are very well kept, that's true. It was clear to you when you went to that party last night and saw the white sand.

Obviously the rich people pay people for maintenance, whether they are poor people or whatever, but your people can't afford that, so they either clean it themselves or they just don't do it.

Pretty much the same goes for restaurants and venues of any kind.

Certainly the restaurant you work for is on a beachfront terrace in a luxurious and exclusive part of Crown's, the same goes for most of the restaurants in this area.

But in Black Waves the restaurants are less sophisticated, the food is fast, some are wood-framed, and there are no more than four people working there.

The places to buy clothes or basic necessities are the same, even a grocery store is inside the same house of the owners, while the rich have a huge shopping mall with brand name clothing stores, accessories, libraries, coffee shops and more refined restaurants.

They also have on their side of town large supermarkets where every fruit, vegetable or meat is triple the price of what they sell it on your side of town.

The prices are also different, clearly.

In Black Waves the dishes sold in the restaurants are affordable, while here a seafood dish costs fifty dollars.

And today especially your boss is in a bad mood, like every day, but today more so.

"Hey."

Alysanne whispers to you from the other side of the bar as you finish cleaning one of the tables and watch her almost instantly, where she takes care that your boss doesn't see you both talking.

"Daniel has texted me, he says Cregan is taking us to another one of his parties tonight," she lets you know with the clear excitement all over her contained face, "They say it's going to be great and maybe Cregan can take us up on his parents' yacht."

You let out a sigh and like her, you check to make sure Mr. Frey doesn't catch you talking in mid-shift.

"Tonight?"

"Yes," she says without removing her excitement.

"We're working double shifts today, Anne," you tell her without encouragement.

"Oh come on. We can't miss the opportunity to spend the party on a fucking yacht," she whispers excitedly to you.

"My feet are already hurting and it's not even four in the afternoon," you point out to her.

She gives you a bad look.

"Y/N," she tells you reproachfully.

"Depends on how the day goes."

"Are you serious? We must—

"You two!"

Mr. Frey's voice immediately catches your attention and Alysanne's, where you notice him already watching you both with a scowl on his face and clearly furious.

"Did I pay you to chat or to work!?"

The two of you exchange a glance and immediately turn away from each other, each returning to their respective tasks. But of course, it not only draws the attention of the two of you, but also that of some customers, and the two of you endure the humiliation of being scolded in public.

"You'd better move and I'd better not see you two chatting again or I'll pay you exactly what you deserve or send you back to your side of town."

You almost want to laugh in his face, but like any educated woman and again out of necessity, you keep quiet, as does Alysanne, but the looks you both exchange say it all.

You would like to tell him that because of the mistreatment and this kind of humiliation in public, the two of you and the other workers should be paid more, especially because you have to deal with a boss like him, but neither you nor anyone else says anything and continue working.

And precisely because you were talking to Alysanne for only a brief moment, Mr. Frey takes advantage and overloads you both with too much work for the remainder of the shift.

And that's why you definitely decide not to go to any party.

Your feet hurt, you are urged to take a bath, eat and lie in your bed, however, you are surprised to see how Alysanne has way too much energy for the hell you both had to go through and as she talk to the guys by text, the more excited she gets about going to Cregan's party.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Alysanne asks you as she finishes getting ready, looking at you through the full-length mirror.

"Honestly I'd rather go to the beach to relax instead of being surrounded with music, the smell of beer, weed and teenagers getting drunk."

She gives you an amused look.

"And why don't you do that?"

"I don't have a ride and it's too late to walk."

"Cregan is coming to pick me up in his car along with the others, I'm sure he can give you a ride if you ask him."

You give her a curious and unsure look.

"Do you think he'll accept?"

"We're going to the same side of town, he'll be passing through," she nods with a nonchalant gesture.

At least you don't have to get too dressed up and you won't get tired, so you trust Alysanne and start getting ready too. Not too much like her but to look presentable.

As time goes by Cregan finally arrives with the boys making a huge fuss, excited about the party tonight. Alysanne tells them to shut up and they are lucky that your uncle and aunt haven't complained about them yet.

You give Cregan directions after asking him to please give you a ride and pretty soon everyone is inside of Crown's.

"Wait, you're not coming with us?" Sam asks you confused.

You shake your head.

"Why not?"

"I'm too tired for a party."

Chase gives you a knowing look.

"I can't believe in all this time you haven't been caught."

"It's not like I'm doing anything wrong either," you shrug.

"But the rich hate us and I bet you they'll make a huge fuss if they catch you."

"Yeah, who knows, maybe a trespass sue," Daniel agrees.

"Even knowing you don't have the money to pay for it," Chase tells you.

"Trespassing?" you repeat between amused and incredulous, "Going to sit on the edge of the beach is trespassing? Do you even know what trespassing is?"

"In any case, the rich won't like it if you get caught," Sam says making a nonchalant gesture.

You decide not to take it any further and finally arrive at your destination point, where you get out and walk over to the side of the pilot's window to see Cregan.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem," he smiles at you, "But the guys are right. If the owners find out about you, you can get in big trouble."

"I've been doing this for almost a year," you let him know, "I'm very sneaky."

He shakes his head with an amused smile.

"Just be careful. We'll come get you when you tell us."

"Okay," you nod, "Thanks, Cregan."

"Take care," Alysanne says to you from the passenger seat.

"Sure."

"And if the rich see you, get in the ocean and swim to the party, we'll help you there," Daniel tells you too.

You give him a look and and a not entirely convinced smile.

"Yeah, sure, very helpful."

You finally start to walk away from them as they continue to yell at you to take care of yourself, to call them in case of anything and so on, until Cregan starts up and his car begins to disappear into the distance.

And then you take action.

You look around, quickly assessing the area, making sure there are no people nearby to see you, but surprisingly this whole luxurious area of Crown's is quiet.

The only movement you notice is several cars passing by, but other than that, there are no monkeys on the shore.

There is a wall in front of you that marks the line between this private neighborhood and the houses in the same neighborhood that are even more private, since they have a huge front yard and a huge part of the beach exclusively for them.

The wall is not high, fortunately, you think it should be, but this is compensated by security guards who patrol this area and the beach from time to time.

So stealthily and in a calculated manner, once you make sure that there are no people nearby, you hide among the bushes and trees that are planted in the corner of the sidewalk to put your foot on a specific crack that you know of the wall and push yourself upward taking the edge of the wall with both hands to be able to observe the other side.

You quickly scan the entire area, making sure there are no guards patrolling nearby nor any of the people who live in the houses before jumping.

The meters of distance are considerable between the huge houses or rather mansions. There is pavement between the divisions and those divisions are exactly the way to the beach.

You put on the cap of the sweatshirt you are wearing to cover your hair and your face, since you know that all the houses must have security cameras outside, so this way you protect yourself in case of anything.

And once you make sure that there is no one outside or nearby, you gain impulse again with more strength and as fast as your feet allow you but still being careful, you place your hands on the rough edge of the wall and start to climb.

You adjust your grip more firmly on the edge and in one agile motion, you propel yourself upwards, where you feel the effort as you pull your own weight and more as you try to be fast.

Luckily you've done this many times before and when you reach the top, wasting no time and making sure no one is watching you, you quickly slide down the other side and you fall on your feet with a dry sound.

You don't take the time to rest and looking around, with adrenaline running through your veins and your heart beating too fast, you quickly advance towards the beach.

And once you are far enough away from where you managed to cross and indeed you confirm that no one saw you and everything is fine, again, you can relax.

You remove the cap from your head and let your hair free again, slowly feeling how the breeze and the wind with the salty air envelop you completely as you approach the seashore.

Easily anyone who lives here if they see you could tell that you live here too, besides the night also helps you because without so much light they can't recognize you right away.

And it is as if you are also a rich person, daughter of rich parents, being inside a private section of the beach in Crown's most exclusive area.

And as you go along, this is precisely why you take the risk of coming to this place when it is forbidden to you; the place and the view.

The sand here is perfect, clean as if no one had ever walked on it, the air is salty with no smell of anything unpleasant in specific, there are no people that could be dangerous around you and the surroundings are absolutely beautiful and clean.

Also this section has a cliff a bit secluded from all the houses, where its huge rocky wall looks absolutely beautiful and ethereal when illuminated by the night light.

You have come here many, many times and you always head to the same place, that specific pier.

The pier stretches out in front of you like a polished wooden path, leading into the deep waters of the night ocean.

Discreetly placed lights along the pier illuminate it with a soft golden glow, creating a contrast to the darkness surrounding the horizon.

The reflection of the small lamps trembles on the surface of the water, giving the place a magical and mysterious air.

The structure is impeccable, made of dark, sturdy wood, maintained with a care that only the rich can afford. There is not a single splinter out of place, not even an ill-fitting clove.

Every detail is taken care of, right down to the polished wooden benches at the end of the pier, ideal for sitting and admiring the sea in silence.

As you approach, the wooden planks creak softly under your feet, but the sound mixes with the gentle murmur of the waves, making it almost imperceptible.

And when you reach the end, you can see a large yacht moored at the side of the dock, with it's deluxe cover and it's name painted in gold and silver lettering.

You have no idea which rich family it might belong to, but you know this is just one of many they must have. It wasn't here the last time you came here and fortunately it doesn't obstruct the view.

You take a seat on the wooden bench and letting out a big breath, you watch as the full moon reflects off the ocean, it's silvery sparkles dancing on the water in hypnotic movements.

This is why you love coming here, even in this way, because the fresh, salty night air fills your lungs with every inhalation.

And just for an instant, you feel freer than ever in this space that is not supposed to belong to you.

Besides you not only enjoy seeing the moon, but also the stars, shining brightly and adorning the entire night sky. And you can rest easy, because there is no danger on this side of town.

You've been enduring a lot at work lately, taking a lot of strain on your shoulders from double shifts and stressing over the slightest thing, but coming here and being here gives you that much needed quiet time.

And only this place can offer you that; peace and tranquility.

You don't know exactly how much time passes but you find yourself in the same position, not getting bored and enjoying the view, wishing time would freeze so you could continue to enjoy this without worries.

You think that Alysanne and the guys must be having fun too, but for tonight this is all the fun you need.

Suddenly your phone vibrates next to you and the screen lights up as a new notification comes in. You casually pick it up and see a new message, and it's from Alysanne.

It's a selfie of her with the guys, all happy, laughing, smiling, beer bottles in hand and with the sea and yachts in the background completing the scene.

You let out a small laugh as you see Sam's euphoric face, Daniel and Chase's funny faces, and Cregan and Alysanne's smiling faces.

"Excuse me?"

Your whole body reacts and jumps instantly from shock and you look quickly and sharply behind you with all the panic on your face, definitely not expecting what you see.

Aemond Targaryen.

Shit.

It's the first thing that comes to your mind as you quickly jump to your feet, your heart beating too fast and your hands starting to shake.

That's when you know that the moment has finally come where you're caught and you're in big trouble.

Aemond watches you with a serious and attentive face, analyzing you completely. And you feel completely small when his eyes look at you with confusion and distrust, but challenging.

He clearly has no idea what are you doing here and maintains a defensive posture.

And you definitely feel like a thief who's just been caught in the act.

"What are you doing here?"

Oh God.

You think in terror.

How come you didn't hear him coming? The boards creak with the weight when someone walks and you couldn't hear anything?

You think that you should have been more attentive, that you shouldn't have let your guard down, because it's not possible that you really were so distracted and in your own world that you didn't hear him coming. 

But with him already here, watching you in a bad way, looking cold and suspicious, that you don't have time to scold yourself or think about it.

"I-I..." you stammer, in a shaky voice, not having the slightest idea what to say, very nervous and scared.

All you can feel is a lump in your throat, an irregular throbbing in your chest and the overwhelming weight of his gaze on you.

He doesn't look away and his serious face doesn't change, clearly waiting for an answer.

As you watch him examine you, you watch as he runs his gaze up and down you, trying to decipher who you are. And it doesn't take him long to come to an obvious conclusion, because he instantly knows that you are not like him.  

By your clothes and your old sandals, everything about you gives away that you don't belong here. Besides, he doesn't recognize you from among the other Crown's families to be able to say that you belong to one of them.

He knows you're not from around here.

"I asked you a question," he demands you in a bad way and with a harsher tone, walking towards you, "What are you doing here?"

You feel a shiver run down your back as you swallow hard, but the words just won't come out.

You're paralyzed, terrified, stuck, because you have no idea what to say and you're still processing that this is really happening. 

You know you don't have any good excuses and he's impatient, waiting for an answer that really won't be convincing to be the truth.

"I will call security for invasion of private property," he warns you firmly, clearly beginning to lose patience.

The danger in his words makes the fear hit you even harder and you finally react in panic.       

"No, no, please," you finally manage to say, worried and raising one of your hands to him in supplication, "I-I… I'm not doing anything wrong, I swear," you raise both hands in surrender, trembling.

He inspects you more closely with a piercing gaze, trying to find something, anything, to tell him what you are really doing here or what you are trying to do, watching between you and his family's yacht anchored to the dock.

His posture remains tense, ready to act if he finds anything out of place. 

He thinks that maybe you are doing something with the yacht, but he sees it in perfect condition, with nothing strange and nothing out of the ordinary, as the rope that ties it to the dock is without problems.

But he still continues to watch you seriously, defensively and suspiciously.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, lowering your gaze, embarrassed and terrified, "This has never happened before," you say, reproaching yourself for the mess you've gotten yourself into.

But he hears you perfectly, and his frown deepens.

"Before?" he queries you.      

You close your eyes tightly, cursing yourself internally for having said that, to again look at him pleadingly and in desperation wanting to prove to him that you really aren't doing anything wrong.

"I swear I—

"Hello!?"

The unexpected voice makes you jump again from surprise and you watch with your eyes wide open behind Aemond as one of the security guards enters the dock, his flashlight illuminating the way.

Your heart beats with such force that it seems to thunder in your ears, as panic engulfs you completely. 

And without thinking too much, you move quickly, hiding behind a huge wooden box, taking advantage of the pole supporting the roof at the end of the pier and some scattered chairs. 

You crouch down, trying to make yourself as small as possible, but desperation gives you away with every move.

This definitely ends up completely confusing Aemond, not expecting that reaction and movement from you at all.      

And you watch him from your hiding place with all the pleading and forgiveness in your eyes, silently begging him not to say anything, not to give you away.

But he turns his gaze to the guard who ends up coming closer.

"Are you all right son?"

Your heart stops momentarily and you watch him in terrified silence, simply waiting for the worst. 

But even to have his whole look serious and not showing much reaction, you watch as hesitation appears for a moment and he falters in his words, as if he doesn't know exactly what to say, until he does.

"Yes," he finally says, "I'm all right."

The guard, seemingly satisfied with the answer, nods, but doesn't leave.     

"The Baratheon's reported a break-in in their backyard a few days ago," he says and you listen carefully, still waiting for the moment with fear and concern, "Nothing serious, apparently just clothes and some decorations. I'm just patrolling to make sure everything is in order."

Your breathing quickens as you listen to every word and Aemond continues to watch the guard, when suddenly he shoots you a quick glance, his eyes reflecting a mixture of seriousness and indecision. 

"Yes, so I hear," he says.

"Are you alone, son? I thought I saw someone else here."

Fuck.

Your stomach sinks and you close your eyes tightly, then watch in terror for the moment when Aemond will finally speak and give you away.

But you see the hesitation in his gaze again, you also watch intently as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, failing to say anything.    

When suddenly you see him let out a long breath and slyly give you a look with his serious face, then lick his lips and press them together in resignation.

"Yes, I'm alone."

As soon as Aemond utters those words, a wave of relief sweeps through your body. But almost instantly you stare at him in complete shock, unable to believe it. 

He really just covered you in front of the guard. He didn't really give you away even when he had every reason to do so.

Your hands are still shaking, but you slowly feel the adrenaline and anguish start to subside. 

"Well, we'll be around if you need anything. Good night, son." 

Aemond nods in his direction.

"Yes, thank you. Good night."  

You stand still for a few more moments, listening to his footsteps fade into the distance until finally there is no more noise. Just the sound of the water against the dock and the night wind on the waves.

You take a deep breath and slowly, you sit up, emerging from your hiding place with your hands still shaking. 

Your eyes meet those of Aemond, who is still standing, watching you with that penetrating gaze that seems to be able to read all your deepest thoughts. 

You don't know exactly what to say to him, you're still surprised and don't understand why he saved you, but the words come out on their own, grateful and fearful.

"Thank you," you murmur apologetically but with all the sincerity in your gaze, "Thank you for not saying anything."

He doesn't say anything to you, which confuses you even more, he just keeps standing there watching you, with his usual hard-to-read expression.     

“I-I..." you stammer, biting your lips and lowering your gaze for a moment, still feeling nervous, "I really wasn't doing anything wrong. I wasn't stealing or harming or anything like that, truly," you tell him honestly.

Again, he says nothing. He doesn't move either. He just stands there, with both hands tucked inside his front pockets of his shorts and still watching you with utmost attention that makes you feel incredibly nervous, even more so due to the circumstances.

You are also surprised that he is not kicking you out and threatening not to come back here. 

You honestly don't understand his behavior and the fact that he saved you from the guard, but for whatever reason, you thank him or you would have been in big trouble.

So cautiously, you take a step towards the entrance and exit of the pier.        

"And I'm sorry. You won't see me around here again. I really don't want to cause trouble," you add, watching him warily and wanting to make clear the promise in your words, "I'll leave now," you say quietly.

And having nothing more to say, you turn around, ready to run away if necessary, but you barely take two steps when surprisingly his voice stops you.

"What were you doing here?" he asks for the fifth time all night, his tone just as accusing but now with a curious tone. 

You stand still, not knowing exactly how to respond. 

But you know you have two choices: lie or tell the truth. And for some reason, you feel you can't lie to him; Aemond Targaryen.

Aside from belonging to the wealthiest, most prestigious and powerful family in Sunset's and the entire country, with his father being Viserys Targaryen himself and being one of the heirs to his entire fortune, he seems to be someone who seems to have the innate ability to detect falsehood.

That's why you don't understand why he saved you, a poor girl who doesn't belong to his world and probably never will, but still, you decide to be honest.       

Anyway, you're already stuck here and as crazy as it sounds, you owe Aemond Targaryen one.

"I was just... looking for some peace and quiet," you confess, turning your body to once again look at him, "I had a bad day and coming here..." you look around with a wistful look, "It helps me."

Aemond tilts his head, frowning slightly and biting the inside of his cheek, inspecting you. 

"And you can't do that on the beach on your side of town?" he asks you with a tone of disbelief.

You sigh, feeling a twinge of frustration as you think about the answer. It's a reasonable question, but the answer is not so simple. 

"Not really," you reply, lowering your gaze for a moment and biting your lips in nervousness, "Surely you know it's not the same at Black Waves."

He shakes his head slightly.

"I've never been there."

You almost look at him with an obvious look, almost, but you end up nodding, since of course he's never been to your side of town when he lives here.   

"The smell of the beach there is not so nice. They are not as clean as these, there is dirt and being there alone in the middle of the night is dangerous," you explain.

And everything you say is true, which is why you decide to come here.

And he looks at you, clearly digesting your words, saying nothing for a few moments, as is becoming usual between the two of you.

You think that maybe for him, someone who has lived surrounded by luxury all his life, it is somewhat difficult to imagine such a different reality. But it is also no secret how the people of Black Waves live.

So you don't understand his silence or even his behavior, but what you do see in him, surprisingly... is that he doesn't judge you.

You would have expected the face of disgust instantly like any spoiled child of rich parents and also that he would tell you to leave now with that posture and superficial look.

But nothing.       

Aemond Targaryen doesn't really reflect anything with his eyes. Unless he's judging you and giving you those looks of disgust in his mind.

But, strangely, he doesn't make you feel any less.

"And coming here... it's like my paradise, for the peace and quiet," you conclude in a low murmur.

Again... he doesn't say anything.

And that begins to frustrate you.

He just watches you, as if he's evaluating every word, every gesture and every detail in you. 

And you silently think to yourself that he probably doesn't say anything because he really wants you to leave, to leave him alone and never come back here.

So you try to leave again, because you've caused enough trouble and you can't risk staying.   

However, just as you prepare to say goodbye and apologize, again, he interrupts you.

"Since when do you come here?" he asks with a tone that reveals a mild interest you weren't expecting.

Inevitably your nerves run through you again and you swallow hard, having no idea whether this interrogation is good or bad, but you still decide to be honest to avoid as much trouble as you can.

"Last year," you confess apologetically.

He raises his eyebrows slightly.

"And no one had caught you until now?"

"It's just that I don't come here much, I promise," you say instantly, sincere, "Like I told you I only come when I really need to... when I want peace and quiet. And I don't do anything but sit around and watch the ocean, that's all."

He nods slowly, again processing your words. 

And you don't know it but to Aemond... there seems to be something about you, something about the way you talk or maybe that you're a Black Waves girl, that keeps him interested.

His blue eyes, cold but curious, fix on yours, as if he wants to see beyond the words, as if he's looking for some kind of hidden truth.    

The silence that follows feels interminable and finally, he with his relaxed but dominant posture, takes his hands out of his pockets and turns around, resting his arms on one of the railings of the pier. 

He stares off into the horizon with that serious look that tells you nothing and you just stand there, wondering if you should still leave or what you should do, since you don't understand anything.

"You can stay," he says suddenly, his voice low but firm.

You frown and stare at him completely confused, having no idea if you heard right or not.

"What?"

"You can stay," he repeats, not watching you.

You blink, watching him in shock, now being the one processing his words, not really understanding anything but feeling completely surprised by his offer.      

You didn't expect this. Not at all.

And at that moment comes the distrust in you, as it can't be too good to be real.

"Are you sure? I mean..." you watch him uncertainly, "Maybe you want to be alone," you shrug.

You watch as he sits up and starts pulling something out of his pockets, which ends up being a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.

And without looking at you, he shakes his head.

"I'm fine," he tells you carelessly, taking a cigarette and starting to light it.

You watch him curiously, not understanding why he's being this way with you... so strangely kind. And that without knowing where it comes from, you begin to like him.

"And you're really not going to give me away? This isn't... I don't know," you shrug, "Like some kind of trap?"    

You watch as he takes a drag and blows out the smoke, putting the lighter and the pack back in his pocket.

"No," he says serious and almost annoyed, so you decide not to question him anymore, as strange as this is, "If you want to stay that's fine, if not you can leave too. Just do what you want, if I wanted to give you away, I would have done it already."

You remain silent, processing his words. You frown and watch him as he takes another drag and then the smoke rising to dissipate in the cool night air.

There is something about his posture, the casual way he holds his cigarette, that disconcerts you and catches your attention.

He doesn't seem like the kind of person who would let someone like you just hang around, much less in a place that is clearly his, or at least his family's.

So you feel unsure how to interpret all of this.

So you continue to stand, still waiting for some sign that you should leave, but he gives you none. Instead, he just looks off into the horizon, where the water meets the dark sky, lit only by the moon and stars.

And the truth is, you don't know what to do.

The prospect of staying there, with him, someone you barely really know and who could give you away at any moment, still makes you nervous.

However, you are also intrigued by this strange friendliness he is showing.

So you decide to stay, so you again take a seat on the edge of the wood with carefree movements, your feet dipping into the shimmering water beyond.

You give him a brief glance, unsure if he'll sit down too or if he'll just leave. But to your surprise, he stands beside you, silently smoking and not watching you.

It's not warm or comforting company, but somehow, the stillness you both share is more soothing than uncomfortable.

And so the minutes pass and the sound of the water, soft and rhythmic, begins to soothe you again. The cool night air makes the anxiety in your chest slowly dissipate, as does the tension in your shoulders.

And with each passing of time, you realize that nothing bad will really happen by being here with him. And you also realize that Aemond Targaryen is maybe not arrogant and shallow like the others.

He hasn't even been mean to you and hasn't judged you, so that's why you decide to start a conversation.

"Why are you here?" you decide to ask, without looking him and simply moving the waters gently with your feet, focusing on that.

The question floats in the air between you, and for a moment, you think he won't answer you, since maybe he told you that you can stay but it doesn't mean you should talk to him.

But then you hear him move, his weight making a slight creak in the wood.

"Same as you," he finally replies, though his tone is less curt this time, "Looking for peace and quiet."

You're instantly taken aback by his honesty and also by his response, definitely not expecting that, so you frown and look at him confused.

"Really?"

He watches you and his gaze instantly paralyzes you, watching as he watches you just as confused but this time defensively at your reaction.

"Why is that so incredible to believe?"

You bite your lips and avert your gaze, thinking very hard about your next words, as you shrug and watch him again.

"Well... I'm just thinking why a person who has everything and certainly lacks nothing would come here... looking for peace and quiet," you explain with genuine curiosity.

He lets out a snort, with a bitter look on his face as he brings the cigarette back to his lips.

"Neither you nor anyone else knows everything about me and my family," he says with an unexpected harshness in his tone.

You remain silent, surprised by the frankness of his response and avert your gaze to the horizon.

You feel a slight discomfort that you didn't expect and it's not because of what he said, but how he said it, so serious and distant.

But maybe he's right.

All families at Crown's are characterized by more than just money, power and status, and that's appearance.

The rich probably think they know everything among themselves, but your people see a little more reality and you know that behind that perfect facade there are secrets, tensions and burdens.

And the Targaryen's are no exception. Even Cregan has hinted at it many times, with his wry, half-joking comments about the lives of wealthy families.

The moment between the two and the conversation seems on the verge of becoming awkward again.

And just when you think the talk is over, Aemond takes another drag and, surprising you, looks sideways at you with a cool but questioning expression.

"And what happened to you?" he asks you suddenly, changing the subject.

"Hm?" you observe him attentively and confused.

"Why did you have a bad day?" he repeats just as calmly, but this time, with a casual, carefree tone.

"Oh," you murmur, turning your eyes back to the horizon.

You didn't expect him to be interested in something so personal. But since he asked, you decide to be honest.

"Well, apparently my boss hates me and made me work double shifts today," you explain, letting out a sigh. "It's stressful enough to put up with his bad treatment and workload, but I also had to deal with a lot of rude customers."

His gaze remains fixed on you, as if processing what you just said. Then he goes back to staring at the horizon with a disinterested look and takes another drag on his cigarette.

"Sounds like shit," he finally says, his tone dry but without a hint of empathy.

"Yeah, it is," you reply, letting out a bitter little laugh, "But it is what it is."

He nods slightly and suddenly, the distance you felt between the two of you seems to diminish a bit.

Aemond isn't as unapproachable as you thought, and though you still don't quite understand why he's acting this way, you begin to see that maybe, just maybe, there's more to him than meets the eye.

You stare out at the water in silence, the sound of the waves lapping gently against the pier pilings filling the air.

And you are surprised by how normal this situation is.

You mean, who would have thought? You, a poor girl from Black Waves and him, the heir to one of the most powerful families in the region, sharing a night on the dock as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

You don't understand anything but... you like him.

"I've never seen you before," he murmurs after a while, his eyes focused on the horizon, "Nor do I know your name."

You stare at him incredulously and let out a small chuckle under your breath.

"I think we both know why," you say knowingly, "It's not like our paths cross very often. And my name is Y/N, Y/N Blackwood," you introduce yourself in a soft tone.

He falls silent, seemingly memorizing your name and within a few seconds, however, he doesn't seem convinced of the other.

"I don't know. I know everyone in town, even if not directly."

You frown slightly.

"That sounds... exhausting."

"It's part of the family, knowing everyone. Knowing who's around you, even if you don't deal with them," he explains, "But I had never seen you."

"Well... I've lived at Sunset's for a year now with my aunt, uncle and my cousin," you explain, relaxing a little more as you see the conversation flowing smoothly, "And before the summer started, I started working at Mr. Frey's restaurant to save up for college in a few more months."

He turns his whole body toward you, still standing and leaning against the pole holding up the roof at the end of the pier, glancing at you from time to time but keeping more of his focus on the horizon.

"Your aunt and uncle?" he asks, "Why don't you live with your parents?"

That question takes you by surprise, and for a moment you don't know what to say. It's obviously a personal question and you weren't expecting it at all.

Then you look at him, where his eyes are serious and inquisitive towards you, although you don't perceive any bad intentions, just a curiosity.

"I guess I don't know if I should tell you that," you say with a small smile and amused tone, trying to downplay it and not make the moment awkward, "You know... trusting one of your own kind."

He lets out a slight chuckle, making you smile a little wider.

"My kind?"

You shrug.

"Yeah, you know... a rich one."

"And what makes you think you can't trust me? I didn't give you away a while ago, did I?"

"And why did you?" you ask, unable to contain your curiosity seizing on the comment, "Why didn't you give me away?"

He lets out a long breath and takes another drag before answering, his voice low but steady.

"I don't know, maybe because you were honest."

"But you're not like that, no one in your class is empathetic and forgiving."

"Do you really think you know everything about me and my family?" he questions you again.

You look at him obviously and incredulously.

"Please, everyone in this place knows everything about you and your family. Even the poor people. You're like the royalty of the city, after all."

You see the slight annoyance on his face, making it clear that he's in total disagreement with you, and you make up your mind to prove your point.

"I mean..." you sigh, "You are known as your father's son who has a perfect life just like your siblings, heirs to a wealthy and powerful family. The Targaryen's are known for that, work, money, power and status... or am I wrong?"

He doesn't respond right away, just watches you with an intensity that makes you feel a little vulnerable.

And just when you think he'll finally let his true self out and he's exactly like the other rich kids, he surprisingly lets out a sigh and looks down at the water, with an almost resigned look on his face.

"Yeah, but it's not all as simple and wonderful as it seems. It's not the whole truth either."

Those words leave you thinking. And they also leave you watching... him.

At the previous party, you couldn't see much of him from afar, let alone being on the second floor of a huge yacht. But he is... captivating.

You trace the shape of his nose and the structures of his cheeks with your gaze, watching as if it were a slow-motion movie as he lifts his cigarette to his lips and raises his gaze to the sky to expel the smoke, marking the bone in his neck.

His silver hair shimmers slightly in the moonlight and makes him look like some sort of ancient Greek God, where you silently admire the handsome features of his face.

You can't see his eyes in detail because of the light, but you know they are blue, characteristic of the Targaryen along with the platinum hair.

And then you wonder, what else is behind that facade his family has so meticulously constructed for him?

Who is Aemond Targaryen truly?

The night continues as the two of you stand there, sharing the space, the air, the silence. There is no need for more words for now, it's just enjoying the little shelter in this corner with him.

And after a while, you decide that maybe it's time to leave.

"Well... I guess I should be going," you mutter, starting to get up, then looking around the perimeter one last time, etching the image in your memory, "I'm going to miss this place."

He turns with slow, nonchalant movements toward you, dropping what little is left of the cigarette to crush it with the sole of his tennis shoe.

"What do you mean?" he asks, with that calmness that always seems to surround him.

You look at him in confusion, then shrug, letting out a small, resigned laugh.

"Obviously I can't come back here now that you've caught me," you tell him with a sad little smile, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear from the wind, turning around, "Oh and..." you look back at him, "Thanks for not give me away, seriously."

You give him a look and a small grateful smile, as he keeps his expression hard to read, as usual, but totally focused on you.

Neither of you say anything else and assuming this is the final goodbye, you start walking towards the dock exit. But then you hear his voice behind you.

"Wait."

And that's what you do.

Confused, you turn to watch him again, watching as he takes a step forward.

"You can come back if you want," he says to you suddenly, in a tone of voice that is soft, but also mixes indifference and something else that you don't quite manage to identify, "Just... make sure no one else catches you."

That definitely takes you by surprise, since you weren't expecting it. And you watch him silently for a moment, trying to read his expression, but he remains as enigmatic as ever.

However, there is an unexpected sincerity in his words that makes you smile, this time with more warmth.

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide the disbelief and excitement in your voice.

He nods, folding his arms, saying nothing.

"Thank you," you reply, and this time you say it more firmly and with happiness in your eyes.

You lower your gaze and resist the urge to smile big, feeling a strange sensation in your stomach, to again watch him.

"Bye, Aemond."

You take a step back and turn around, when again he stops you as he speaks.

"You're going home alone?" he asks, this time with a little more interest in his voice.

You laugh softly, surprised that he cares, not really understanding anything but liking it.

"You know? We poor people have a good thing after all... survival style."

He doesn't say anything to you, just watches you with his piercing colored eyes as he licks his lips and then simply gives you a small nod.

You don't say anything else either and finally turn to leave, beginning to leave the tranquility of the dock and him behind, under the dim lights of the night.

And as you walk away, you feel the sea breeze on your face and wonder how a night that began with tension and fear ended with something as unexpected as a truce with Aemond Targaryen.

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[serana666]

Getting on my soapbox about something I think is REALLY important for chronically ill ppl to think about.

Being undiagnosed and disabled is a terrible experience. You’re screaming into the medical void for ANYONE to please SEE YOU and help. You start thinking “is it just me? Could it just be in my head? What’s wrong with ME?”

And I’m here to tell you, it’s 👏🏻NOT YOU👏🏻 it’s THEM. (The doctors)

I have been through the grueling process of becoming totally disabled by chronic illness, without knowing what it could be. I picked up diagnosis’ along the way: RA, then lupus, then fibro. And I am LUCKY that my blood worked with me to show those things, not everyone is so lucky.

I kept thinking (foolishly buying into the narrative doctors try and sell you) that if I could just get a *serious* diagnosis I would finally be given access to the care I needed, that ALL disabled people need. That was never the case at any step in the process.

When I was diagnosed with RA and began having symptoms outside of it, that were completely debilitating my rheumatologist told me I just needed more exercise and activity. I told them specifically I had fatigue so strong that I was loosing the ability for basic functioning.

When I found a new rheumatologist and was diagnosed with lupus I thought my troubles were over. Then she started saying weird shit like “do you have a boyfriend? You’re so pretty!”

She found out I was a lesbian when I brought my girlfriend to my appointment to be my advocate. Her whole demeanor changed to me and I spent 6-8 months with her receiving no treatment. They kept saying “oh it’s the insurance” nope they sent me letters telling me this office was not following up.

So I moved to a blue state literally out of fear that I would die waiting on these bigoted doctors. I got a rhum in a blue state. I was diagnosed with secondary fibro. Again, I foolishly believed I would finally be in the clear. No, she still minimizes and blinks at me when I describe my pain.

Doctors are not our allies, even though they should be above all else. They find ANY excuse to minimize us. So if you are someone who is undiagnosed or with a diagnosis that is misunderstood/not taken seriously , they will milk that for all it’s worth. 👏🏻ITS NOT YOU👏🏻

I’ve seen people in disabled communities minimized for their race, their weight, their gender, their sexuality/queerness, their age, their diagnosis or the lack thereof, ITS NOT YOU!

You know your body, and the pain you feel BETTER than any doctor that has been trained to systemically ignore you!

Don’t let them tell you what your reality is. It’s such a knee jerk reaction for minorities to do this to themselves.

You deserve medical care that isn’t contingent on your doctors bias’. We NEED more empathy. Don’t let their disregard for your life leak into the love you NEED to give yourself. 💕