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#Platforms aren't your friends
aetheternity · 1 year
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I think Xiaother/Aexiao week is coming up or something. Even if it isn't the Lantern Rite is so if anyone wants to take one of my Xiao/Aether prompts and write it I'll put it here since I'm too swamped to write them myself. If anyone does happen to write them tag me in it is all I ask.
1. Arranged marriage au + Royalty au in which Zhongli arranges a marriage between his son Xiao and a prince from another land Aether. However Xiao is less than pleased with the idea and refuses forcing Aether to try and get him to change his mind before the fated wedding day as Aether is the oldest son and needs to wed before he can become king. (My favorite prompt)
2. Aether works in an agency that hunts paranormal entities and in doing so they often hire paranormal entities to fight alongside them. As such creatures would know more about fighting these spirits than any human would. At some point Aether gets paired with a demon named Xiao whose dark red wings and piercing almost black eyes originally give him the creeps but he ends up thankful for the new found partnership.
3. Xiao can't get a record deal until he can manage to write and record a song. And he's on a deadline. Lucky for him his best friend Venti met an amazing song writer in college. Unlucky for him the guy Venti had met had made it big only a year prior and getting to him would be quite difficult now. Difficult but not impossible.
4. (The only in universe one) In Zhongli's "passing" He recommends that in the coming years Xiao take up the mantel as God of Liyue only if he believes he can handle it. In preparation for such an event Aether vows to act as Xiao's first follower and guide him however he can. Serving a new god must be quite rewarding though, no?
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computerpeople · 11 months
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whats worse, the roleplay side of tumblr or kinblr
the rpc by far. at least kinblr was filled with other fat delusional autistics that were mean, like if someone was insulting me i at least knew they were doing it bc they were jealous of my kinlist or something. the rpc has to be one of the most racist, ableist groups on tumblr ive seen. heavy on the racism.
#to put it into context i was never told on kinblr that people were demonizing me because i was ugly#i was however told that people hated my oc and thought he was annoying and demonized him bc he was fat and 'not conventionally attractive'#multiple times. despite him being nicer then 40% of the characters in the rpc#i had people sending me constant stuff about how i was faking my disabilities for attention or money or sympathy. i was getting anon hate#constantly. someone tried to frame me for proshipping because they were upset my character hooked up with my friends characteer before#theirs did. and that followed me for months and months after despite the three of our characters being IN a polycule#the thing is i think people think iots free game to make potshots at your characters weird traits for fun but i was very open about most of#my characters being heavily based off myself. ie: fat. autistic. strange. goth. brain damage. schizophrenic. etc#which hurt when they'd go after those parts of the characters.#id have people target specific triggers of mine and try to trigger my paranoia etc etc#and ontop of all that. im white#i have friends who have gone through so much worse in the rpc because they aren't. the racism is so fucking bad#im rambling#kinblr sucked ass but in a very like#'the special ed kids are fighting' kind of way. like 90% of the bad shit in kinblr was like#i got 'called out' for fakjing being jewish with no proof in the slightest bc they were a double and wanted me off the platform LOL#txt
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maeamian · 1 year
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These motherfuckers lmao
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vulvader · 2 years
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You know, sometimes, I really want to like or reblog a post, maybe even give a compliment/advice or show of appreciation to the author.
But then, I click on their page and see pronouns. And I've already had multiple people disparage me for having a POSITIVE interaction with their content, just because they dislike my gender critical/radfem views. Even though I didn't bring it up, and my views certainly don't reflect on their content.
But still. Do I feel bad not giving praise because I'm expecting the possibility of someone harassing/abusing me for existencing in the space? Kind of.
At the same time, I feel like a lot of these people need to be aware they drive people away with their extensive DNIs and the fear they propagate reblogging posts, cultivating hate that extends outside of political discussion, and encouraging this kind of harassment.
I don't know. How do other radfems go about this? I also feel like I have the right to make a positive contribution and, should someone try to twist it into a negative, that is fully their issue.
It is funny to me how these people are actively trying to remove women's rights and create a culture of scientific ignorance, removal of child-safeguarding, and are complicit in financial/medical and heterosexist abuse, and yet, I have no problem liking a post or two because it doesn't reflect on me.
Yet, they really can't interact with anyone who shares a different view even as it doesn't come up, because their entire ideology and identity is rested upon such shaky grounds. Thoughts?
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charmre · 2 months
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Another day, another casual sinophobia experience: ~*CLASSMATE EDITION*~
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fairuzfan · 25 days
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MARCH 4TH-MARCH 10TH NORTH GAZA DONATION DRIVE!
Thank you so much everyone for your continued support these past few weeks. Because the situation in the North is incredibly dire and your support has been so generous, we decided to open a North Gaza specific drive from March 4th-March 10th where 100% of the donations made during this time will be sent to families in North Gaza so that they may buy food and other necessary supplies!
Hussam has a special video he narrates where you can see the level of destruction caused to the North of Gaza these past few months. This video was taken just two days ago exclusively for this campaign.
If you can't donate, please consider spreading the word far and wide across multiple different platforms!
More Info about Help Gaza Children located here.
Please, please, please consider donating today! This will help so many families who are literally starving! No amount is too little!!
Note: due to technical difficulties we aren't able to continue Help North Gaza campaign separately at this time. We will update you with information regarding the previous campaign I published as soon as we receive it.
ID: the video is of the decimation caused to North Gaza both in aerial view and walking through the streets.
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inazuma-fulgur · 1 year
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Accepting unpleasant and weird to you things and just letting them exist should be more normal
#seeing huge posts again where people hate seeing replies by others#like guess what you made a public post in a public space.#people shit into the same bathroom as you because you opened it to everyone don't complain about the dirt tou offered#*you offered#shitty opinions shouldn't be censored either#you should point them out as shitty#like just call them that. and don't make the mistake of giving people a platform. but use all the material they have made and show that#instead. if you give (idk fascists or we) the ability to talk back and discuss that means there is something to discuss.#that their opinion can't be dismissed out of hand.#when in reality yes it can. and all that needs to be discussed are intricacies and strategies. we shouldn't seek conversation because we#aren't trying to understand fascism and it's legitimacy and illegitimacy through their perspective#fascists have no insight into anything. they refute taking insight into other peoples lives culturess traditions values#they're anti discourse and so being involved in discourse is their greatest asset. never give up never surrender#keep lying and add accusations to the conversation and distract and whatever the fuck#fascists never hold up to scrutiny but in live sections were you would be forced to divulge a lot of nuance and info suddenly and go#on debunking sprees or talk about improper debate tactics. yeah you're gonna look bad against them#debate bros and generally debate culture is ass#debate cultur is not you arguing with your friend or a philosopher
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osachiyo · 7 months
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MEN WHO WOULD ! go drunk from the taste of your pussy. He'd be soooo reluctant to go down on you at first because apparently "it would make him look pathetic if his friends knew". But once he actually gets between your plush thighs, staring at the sticky material of your lacy panties dampening with each nip on the soft flesh, it's like he does a completely 180. His tongue would be licking you through the soaked material of your panties, just savouring your flavour before actually diving in. He'd slowly take it off, slipping them in his pockets for 'later use' , he tells you. But you can't focus on anything he's saying right now, you're just so fucking needy. So you cut him off mid sentence, yanking him down by his hair, shoving your cunt in his handsome face. His eyes widen from the sudden act, grabbing your soft thighs for stability as he finally indulges you, properly. He'd slowly lick a fat stripe up your juicy cunt, making you tighten your grip on his soft locks as he whines lowly, tightening his grip on your thighs. "God, fuck you taste good..mmh-" He knows he shouldn't talk with his mouth full but damn, he was gonna get addicted at this point.
It's been several fucking hours since he's been eating you out. It also wasn't helping how you were getting more and more sensitive with each toe curling orgasm from his greedy mouth on your pussy. He was fucking high off of it, his eyes rolling back from the taste. "Pleasepleasepleaseplease- 'can't handle it no more- 's too much!" You sobbed, trying to thrash around and kick your legs but to no avail, his grip was tight. His other hand came up to your lower tummy, pressing on the soft flesh to pin you down as he had his meal. You shouldn't be interrupting him, y'know? "Just one more, honey..take it for me, okay? I know you can, you're such a good fuckin' girl for me, aren't you?" Just one more. He's been saying that for the last thirty minutes. God, he was such a bad liar, but you believed him every time.
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GOJO, choso, ITADORI, yuuta, SCARAMOUCHE, childe, heizou, LEVI, mammon, mephistopheles, BAJI, rindou, mushitaro & ur faves.
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©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
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luveline · 9 months
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𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you and miguel have different definitions of the same word. he finally gives in to temptation —featuring a cranky but lovesick miguel and a flirty, head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 3k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
This has to be your favourite song in the whole world. 
You sit in the hall beside the entrance to Miguel's office (this week, you're thinking you might call it The Bedroom, on account of all the magic happening inside), headphones on, a bottle of lemonade beside you. 
Today has the makings of a great day. You're at the Spider Society headquarters and not at home, for starters, and one of the Peter Parkers you'd made friends with in the med-wing saw you this morning and recognised you, which is brilliant because he looked super similar to every other Peter Parker you've met. He offered to help you fix your rinky-dink headphones, and now they're working again and loud enough to cover the sound of Spider Chatter, even with your enhanced senses. 
What's more, Miguel has finally emerged from his dormitory, and he's walking toward you looking confused. That's a step up from unhappy. 
He asks you something. 
"What? I can't hear you." 
He says something else. You shake your head, music too loud to catch even a hint of what he's saying, and Miguel eventually crouches down to push your headphones around your neck. He's surprisingly gentle. 
"What are you doing?" he asks. 
"Waiting for you, what did you think I was doing?" 
"Why are you sitting on the ground?" He gestures backward to a red-lit control panel. "Chair right there." 
"I think that's someone's desk." 
"It's really not." 
Miguel stands up and doesn't hesitate to grab your arms and help you up too. It means more to you than it should, because it's not necessary and a few months ago he wouldn't have bothered. Which isn't to imply that Miguel is a mean guy, Lyla says he used to be a loser (code for sweetheart), and you get flashes of it every now and then in chivalry and kind smiles. 
He's not mean, he's cranky. 
"Don't sit on the floor," he says. "Just– just go inside if I'm not here." 
"Well, The Bedroom doesn't come when I call." 
Miguel's lips part in confusion for a second. Lyla appears at his shoulder, and says, "She can't get the platform to come down without you, genius." 
"Put her name on the command list," Miguel says. 
Your eyes widen. Lyla flashes to his other side, closer to you, and smiles playfully. "Done." 
"Stop sitting on the floor," Miguel says, turning around. He walks a few steps and pauses when he realises you're not following. "Are you coming with me?" 
You jog to catch up with him. Music plays against your collar, a slinking, indie sound that makes Miguel wrinkle his nose. You turn it up a little bit and smile when he glares at you. 
You enter the atrium that houses The Bedroom. Miguel hops up onto the platform because he's too tall to see sense while you struggle, but you're pleased when he takes your hand and pulls you up properly. All these familiar touches today, anyone might think Miguel liked you. 
He definitely does. 
You sit down in the spinning chair near what you've decided is your desk but certainly isn't, again pleased beyond words when you find your sketchbook from last time still there, cleaned away carefully, pencils in a pot and a brand new pencil sharpener by the side of it. It matches your spider suit. You look over your shoulder, your face lit up with thanks, and Miguel swiftly looks away from you. 
"It's electric. Tell me when the battery's dead, I'll charge it." 
"Thank you," you say, flipping your sketchbook open to the last entry. 
You aren't Picasso, but most members of the Spider Society are somewhat artistically inclined, considering the suit-making rite of passage they must all endure —if you don't know how to sew before you start, you will by the end. 
Or like Miguel, you could cheat and make the suit out of nanotechnology. 
You haven't really been designing any suits lately. Spidering is tiring, you need to relax, and your reluctant friends are the easiest subjects, though Miguel's face is painstakingly difficult to get right. He's very angular, high cheekbones with that divot that needs kissing stat, and his nose… He's really pretty, but you almost wish he wasn't so your sketches of him held a better likeness. 
He's the only one of the regular crew that stands still long enough to be drawn. Jessica doesn't like you (or maybe she does, it's hard to tell, but she hasn't forgiven you for asking if her baby was like a maraca bead when she fights) so she doesn't let you draw her. Lyla will stand very still if you request it, but after a few portraits she got bored and started changing her hair or glasses, and after a few more she gave up. Margo is hard to focus on because her blue light makes everything else seem super orange, though she does stand in one place usually. She takes up a lot of pages, but it's Miguel you've drawn most of all. 
You go around the Spider Society sometimes asking people if they'll sit for you, but again your skills aren't impressive, so it's awkward when they want to see how you've done. There are drawings of all kinds of Spiders, including yourself, between Miguel, and Miguel, and Miguel. 
His back, the side of his face, his hands ungloved. His pointy bottom teeth mid fight. The naked stretch of his arm and his Rapture injector positioned over it. He might not appreciate that one. You rip it out and toss it in the waste paper basket under your desk, where it incinerates, paper smoke curling up toward the extractor fan on the atrium ceiling. 
"What are you doing?" he asks without looking at you, his gaze on one of his marigold coloured monitors. 
"Drawing." You're not drawing so much as sitting there with a coloured pencil in hand, trying to think of conversation starters. "What are you upto?" 
"According to the program, there are no Canon events today at risk of disruption," Lyla chimes in, "so Miguel's doing chores." 
"What, not one bad thing is gonna happen today?" you ask. 
"Nothing we can predict," Miguel says. 
You swap your pencil for your drink, unscrewing the lid of your lemonade to sip at it leisurely. Today is your favourite kind of day. No fighting, lots of time with Miguel, and music to go with it. You're so happy you could melt. 
Miguel turns to you and sees your stickying smile. 
"What?" 
"Nothing. Just happy to be here with you," you say.
"Don't say stuff like that," he says, turning back to his screen. 
"Scared you'll actually experience sincerity?" Lyla asks. 
"Lyla," he warns, as though Lyla might be afraid of any consequence he had the power to inflict. 
"Sorry," you say, not very sorry, but not wanting him to be uncomfortable, "it's just nice, being friends with you."
"We aren't friends." 
You're not quick to take offence with Miguel. He can be cruel. He's hurting, he's unhappy, he has a lot on his plate. Oftentimes he's so tense with apprehension his neck locks up and you hear it clicking as he turns one way or another, or if he isn't apprehensive he's disappointed, furious, upset. You give him the benefit of the doubt because you know him, but you don't know the tone of voice he uses now. It's like he's offended at the insinuation. Like he would never, ever be friends with you. 
You put your lemonade on the desk and don't know what to do. His insipid floating platform is too high now to leave without causing a scene. Maybe when he's busy you can web down and go home. All you know is that you desperately don't want to be near him. But home sucks, and the dormitories are worse. You're stuck. 
"You can be so mean," you say softly, turning back to your sketchbook and pencils. 
You're thinking you might draw him with a bunch of bee stings, or find a previous sketch and cross his eyes out.
"What?" he asks. 
Your hackles rise. "You're mean. Don't talk to me." 
"What?" Miguel stands very still. "Y/N, what?" 
"What do you mean, what? I said something nice and you said something cruel. I get it, okay, we aren't friends, so don't talk to me." 
"I've upset you." 
You stare at your blank page. "It doesn't matter." 
"No, I've said the wrong thing." 
"Miguel, don't bother. What else could you mean by that?" You laugh with little humour. Crestfallen doesn't begin to describe how you feel. "I'll be quiet. I just don't want to be at home." 
"What's wrong with home?" 
"Is there ever much right?" 
"Did something happen?"
"We aren't friends, so why ask me?" 
You bite the inside of your lip as Miguel approaches, his footfall hushed over the lightweight metal flooring. You turn to him in your chair, head tilted back to meet his eyes, arms crossed over your stomach defensively. 
"That's not what I meant when I said that." He speaks slowly, firmly, to avoid any misunderstanding. "What's wrong with home, mi cielo?" 
You tap his ankle with your shoe, looking away from his gaze. You don't want to tell him, and if he keeps looking at you like that, you will.
"¿Qué pasó?" He bends at the waist slightly, bringing his face closer to yours, dark hair falling into his eyes.
"I don't know what that means," you murmur.
"Did something happen?" he asks.
"Nothing happened, it's just– it's lonely there," you say, squirming under the weight of his gaze, his sudden caring. "What's with you? One minute you're not my friend, the next you're worrying about me? You're giving me whiplash." 
He stands up, and his face falls back into a more typical emotionlessness. He's clearly feeling something, but he's wiping the slate clean. 
"When I said we aren't friends, it didn't mean–" He grunts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you were staying in the women's dormitory?" he asks, frustrated.  
"I am, but I'm useless, and they don't really respect me because I'm–" 
"Eccentric?" 
"–not as experienced," you finish, eyes flaring. 
"Oh, my god," Lyla says, appearing in front of him to make sure he sees her delight at his slip up. 
Miguel bats her hologram with an annoyed grunt. She disappears again, her tinkling laughter cut short.
"It's a good thing," Miguel says quickly.
You stand up. "It's not the point." 
"You should feel at home in the dormitory, and if you don't, I'll find you somewhere else to stay here, you don't have to be in there if you don't feel welcome."
"Miguel, you're sounding awfully friendly right now." 
"We aren't friends," he says again, stepping closer to you. "What's so hard to understand about that?" 
"But we spend time together. We have fun. You like me, Miguel, you do, you tell me jokes sometimes, you make me things for me. You… you do like me, right?" 
"You know that I do," he says, his eyebrows pinching together. 
"You like me, like, you want me," you say, just to make sure.
His fist clenches hard enough to make an audible sound. Miguel's voice is fraught, and through barely parted lips, "If you know that, what's the problem?" 
You don't know. Maybe it was silly to worry about how he sees you, because you do know that Miguel likes you, but you also know he hadn't wanted to like you. His attraction to you was reluctant, you're not stupid enough to miss that, and it was important to you that whatever tension sexual or otherwise lingering between you had bloomed into mutual affection. 
"I want us to be friends, too," you say. 
"I thought we were more than that." 
It's such a quiet admission. He isn't afraid to say it, and he isn't reluctant like you feared. 
"Miguel," you say. "I want you to like me. I know I can be off-putting, I know I tease too much, but I don't want you to like me despite those things, I just want you to like me. So, when you say we aren't friends…" 
"I've never heard you say three serious sentences in a row," Miguel says, reaching out for your hand. He pulls you toward him slowly, his fingertips gliding up the length of your arm. "Then again, it's the same nonsense as usual." 
"Miguel–" 
"Of course I like you. How else do you need me to say it? I like you and I want to kiss you, I like you and I like that you're irregular. You want us to be friends? Then let's be friends." Miguel's hand closes around your bicep. His thumb presses against soft fat and muscle alike. "But not just friends." 
Relieved, you sigh. "So you're saying we really weren't friends?" 
Miguel leans down until his face is the only thing you can see. His smooth skin, his dark eyes, their darker flush of too-long lashes; it's unfair how pretty his eyelashes are, how they curl, how they bunch in triangles you have to fight to resist touching. His eyebrows so often slightly set, giving him an unhappy expression even now. 
He brings the hand that isn't clasped at your bicep to the hill of your waist. It's hot as a brand, and it pulls you closer, your neck craning with every inch he steals from between you. 
"We can be friends," he says. 
His fingers twitch against your arm, and his hand begins to climb. It's not as slow as it feels, conquering the curve of your shoulder, your neck. His hand is big, his thumb pressing into the column of your throat gently.
He looks at you for a measured lapse of time, and you know, finally, that you're on the same page. 
"What you said before, 'mi cielo?'" You hold his elbow. "What does that mean?" 
"My sky," he says. "My… my heavens. It's saccharine. It's something teenagers say, when they're," —his voice dips, the hand at your waist squeezing tight like you might slip through his hold—  "infatuated." 
"Just teenagers say that?" you ask.
"No," he allows. "I always thought it was too much." 
"But you–" 
"Yeah. I did." 
The first kiss is surprisingly sweet. On the tail end of words, Miguel presses his lips half-parted to yours, slowly, softly, like the brush of a downy feather. He lingers, and it's your own movement that spurs him on —you shudder up into his lips and he loses control. 
The sound he makes is a shock. You try to pull back to check he isn't hurting, and he lets you until he realises why it is you're pulling away. "It's fine, it's okay," he says quickly. 
Assuaged of your concern, he pulls you back in and he kisses you, he kisses you, his hand squeezing too tight and his nose bridge sliding up against yours from the force of it all. Your chest feels like a pit and you need Miguel closer if you're ever going to fill it, your hands snapping up to his face like magnets. There's no need to pull him down to you, he's already wading in, not wading —crashing, kissing you so hard your lips burn. 
You make a sound that says, hopefully, This is really fun, but don't give me a bruise.
His tongue is a heat at the seam of your lips. Your weight bends, your chest leaning into his front. He doesn't hesitate to ease his hand behind your back and prop you up against him as things get heady, and the only thing you can feel is him. 
All those times he almost kissed you, all those times he couldn't cross the gap. He poked and prodded and provoked you into getting into his space and each time you called his bluff. You wanted Miguel to give in, and now he has, it's the meltiest, most stickying warmth you've ever felt. 
Voices sound far away, off the platform and down the hall. Jessica and someone else, approaching fast. 
Something sharp snags your bottom lip as Miguel pulls away. You press your finger to your sore lip. When you pull it away, blood spots your skin. 
Miguel takes your face into his hand and angles your face to a glowing screen carefully, in total juxtaposition of the grip he'd had on your waist. 
"Sorry," he mumbles, the tip of his fangs catching the light. His adrenaline must be high. 
"Excited?" you ask him breathily. 
He wipes your lip with his thumb. The other hand pet's your cheek. You feel suddenly and smotheringly adored, all his attention on your pinprick wound. 
"Everything okay up there?" Jessica calls. 
Miguel drops your face like he's remembered himself. You turn to your newfound company, Jessica Drew and an unhappy looking Gwen Stacy. This high up, there's no way they can see the state of either of you, mussed hair and Miguel's blushy cheeks, but they'll see you eventually. And Miguel might like you, might want you, might be your more-than-friend, but he's a stickler for appearances, and being found kissing your subordinate dizzy when you're supposed to be working would mortify him.
"I cut my lip on a lemonade bottle," you call cheerily, waving at grumpy Gwen. Her lips perk up. "Miguel's trying to tell me it's my fault. Is lemonade usually sharp?" 
His hand flattens subtly at the small of your pack. 
"Thanks," he murmurs. 
"Welcome, handsome. Is it bad?" you ask, turning back to hip with your lip pouted. 
His eyes visibly soften at the sight of you. "Not that bad." 
"Alright, good. You'll have to let the platform down, I need to go." 
"What? Where are you going?" he asks. 
"If we're friends now," you say, lilting, performing a half spin in front of him just to watch his eyes narrow, "I'm going to have to make us bracelets. Friendship bracelets." He clearly doesn't like the idea of being friends still, so you amend with a softer tone, "Friends and whatever that was. Come on, you'll love it. I'll make it match your suit." 
He rubs the space between his eyebrows. 
"Will you bring your stuff here?" he asks, the platform beginning to lower under your feet. 
"Duh. I need to take lots of measurements. I'll be in your hair all day, you'll hate it." 
He nods like he agrees. "I'll hate it," he says, deadpan. When he's sure Jessica and Gwen aren't looking, he gives you a smile you've never seen before. 
You and I have a secret, it says. 
Lyla appears by your shoulder to instantly tell him otherwise. It goes without saying that she's mildly disgusted and extremely smug. "Don't match it to his suit, Y/N. Mr. Heartthrob here needs something soft. How about some baby pinks, hm?" 
Miguel sighs, but you barely hear him over your excited gasp. "Yes! Pink and white, for sure, that would be so nice." 
"Great," Miguel says. "Perfect. Thanks for that, Lyla."
"You're so welcome!" 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D please reblog if you have the time ♡
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akugetahint · 1 year
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having this blog is a bit sad to begin with. it is only consolation prize is that i have possibly stopped aku from engaging with certain people, but i need to stress. i take no joy from this blog. other blogs that document callouts don't take joy either.
i wouldn't have made this blog had aku not changed her mumu url. or mass flagged a whole blog that had evidence against her and other people. or stopped making new blogs and stuck to her mumu. aku has not once apologized to the people she's harmed or taken a break out of good faith. none of her friends acknowledge the harm she's done without backpedaling and claiming she has changed when she clearly hasn't.
somebody i talked to said that they knew they were personally disliked within communities, but not as much as aku. if they were disliked as much as aku, they'd just find a new platform. and i couldn't agree more. informing people of aku's new urls and behavior is nothing in comparison to being aku herself, and i don't say that in an honorable way.
also, hello aku or anybody reading this on her behalf. i hope you know that the apparent stress that i cause you is another consolation prize. because none of you can help yourselves.
listen to abuse victims when they have evidence. some people deserve second chances and others don't.
#backing up again. just wanted to say this#i wouldn't be anonymous had aku taken everything to heart but#there are still cases where she effectively haunts new callouts of her#so i rather not have that on any blog with my name on it.#aku is doing this for attention at the end of the day. why else does she cry about being stalked on her main#to get pity points from her what. three or four friends.#i deleted the pineapple post btw bc they outlined that they were a victim in their rules#but my point still stands that it is quite a coincidence that they get those asks in the first place#around the same time aku gets called out#yet interestingly don't publish or acknowledge being friends with an abuser#which is double fucking weird because a lot of people who interact with pineapple have reblogged aku's callout!#that's why i'm getting on pineapple. they aren't honest about their friendship and are exposing aku to both past and future victims#and getting hate anons around the time your friend gets critique to change attention is. how is that not suspicious#it's a carrd situation too. why put your entire abuse situation in your rules#again. i never substantially said pineapple was sending them to themselves. i said they might've. that is that.#you know what the mommy aku comment was a bit fucked but i'm sorry#pineapple really allowed aku to piggyback off of them and i was fucking livid that they weren't acknowledging it.#that's what really pissed me off. i shouldn't assume shit yet they kept posting those asks and not the other ones#i will repeat any hate towards pineapple is undeserved. i still don't like how they platformed an abuser.#so glad this blog doesn't have dms or asks open. bye.
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csainzoperator · 4 months
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baby : CL16 ☆
summary: y/n horner has dropped a new single. its a sexy and fun song. but y/n had broken up 4 years ago, and since then there was one superhit album with a sad and shady vibe. new year, new y/n? or new man? let's find out.
(charles leclerc × singer!reader)
trigger warnings: sexual intendos, typos (tried my best to not make any)
face claim: barbara palvin
y/nusername has posted!
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hi, lovers. i know its been quite a while since you've heard from me but hey! i'm back and my single "baby" is dropping on friday, 8/12/23. stay tuned for more updates. love you all always, i thank each one of you as i wouldn't be here if it weren't for you guys 💋
liked by taylorswift, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 928,712,821 others
christianhorner proud of you, darling ❤️
- gerihalliwellhorner WE are proud of you (the spice girl inside me is squeaking)
landonorris GO BESTIE
- y/nusername ILY DUMBASS
carlossainz55 all the drivers can't wait for this! (we all are disgusted on the inside)
- y/nusername 🤭🤭
- estiebestieee GIRL WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
- y/nloverrr stop....DOES THAT MEAN THE DRIVERS HAVE HEARD THE SONG ALREADY
- pierregasly 🤐
y/nfann YOU LOOK SO PRETTY
paddockclubb y'all wondering if the drivers have heard the song when i'm out here questioning reality cos CHARLES LECLERC HAS LIKED THIS POST.
it was the end of season lunch and you were kind of nervous as you would finally be telling your parents about charles and you. your friends were thrilled but you just didn't know how your father would react.
the heavenly creatures and godly people had given you a blessing. BECAUSE NO WAY IN HELL YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT IT ALL ALONG?
"you aren't letting him in on any red bull secrets now, are you?" your father questioned you. and you replied right back, with mock seriousness. "you mean have i told him how max cuddles his cats and how checo never stops talking about mexican food? yes dad i've kept that a secret." your boyfriend lets out a chuckle as you finish your sentence, squeezing your thigh below the table.
"aww maxie you're a softie at heart" lando teases him as max glares at you playfully. the brunch was a success and you just couldn't wait to get back to the hotel with charles because, oh dear lord. he looked absolutely ravishing. divine. sublime even. and he knew what was on your mind, the way his hands kept brushing yours, his soft kisses when no one was looking. you felt it all.
y/nusername has posted!
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fancy hotel but this is how we showed up 🤞🏼 liked by christianhorner, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 99,827 others.
landonorris oooh who's that hot man
- y/nusername carlossainz55 come get your child
- carlossainz55 my apologies
- carlaaaando EXACTLY WHO IS THAT MAN
charles_leclerc 🌟
y/nusername has liked this comment
- f1wags WTF ARE Y'ALL SEEING THIS.
- estiebestiee if y/n and charles are a thing. I'M NOT READY FOR THIS 🖐🏼
y/nloverr OK BUT THE UPGRADE THO. from that trash guy 4 years ago to charles mfkin leclerc 🙏🏼
it was the big day. your single was about to drop today and your boyfriend was lying down on your lap, telling you how he would LOVE to tell the world that the song was about him. you agreed, it was about him. he slowly got up and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting his hands slip under your shirt.
"aren't we getting cheeky now, mr leclerc?" you teased. "oh we are just getting started, baby" he mumbles as he kisses down your neck. and just like that, he made your big day much more special by his, let's say, needy touches.
y/nusername has posted!
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"baby" out now on all platforms! enjoy streaming. sending kisses 💋 liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lewishamilton and 288,718,123 others.
y/nfannn "baby, baby, do i taste like candy, sugarcoated he says i'm the most sweet" UM GUYS????? I'M NOT OK 🖐🏼
landonorris great song ig 🙄
- y/nusername oh cmon we all know you love it
lewishamilton great job, sis. got a sick beat 🖤
y/nusername has liked this comment
f1wags GUYS. I'M 100% SURE THAT'S CHARLES' BACK.
- carlandooo RAH STOP I'M WEAK IN MY KNEES RN
y/nloverrr "i'm a handful but, that's what hands are for. pin me to the floor, treat it like its yours" SCREAMING YELLING KICKING MY FEET IN THE AIR GN. she ate that up 🙏🏼
charles_leclerc 🤭
charles_leclerc has posted!
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"baby" is ab me. y'all can cry now 🤭 liked by y/nusername, arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 287,112,123 others.
y/nusername i love you, baby.
- charles_leclerc NAH. i love you more.
- y/nusername shut up, i will kill every person who says against me, i love you more.
- charles_leclerc wow look at you making me all scared AND getting me horny at the same time.
landonorris UM. I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW THAT.
pierregasly THERE ARE KIDS ON THIS APP.
maxverstappen1 why y'all acting like we didn't know since ages. anyways. *pretends to be shook* CONGRATS GUYS!
y/nleclercfan PARENTS 🤞🏼
lechairrr y/n basically told us how good charles is in bed by her song 😭
f1wags HAH. I KNEW IT. I SAW IT COMING BUT I'M STILL SO SHOOK RN?????
scuderiaferrari red looks good on you guys ❤️
the end ♡
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weyounbathwater · 9 months
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A donkey with a man's name was found playing poker call that a card ass ian lmaoo wait whats happ
3 notes
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🪱 trillcore Follow
Guys, that same admirer left me another bouquet of Kilmarian daisies in my quarters <3
#personal #dax rambles #wishing for her
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⚜️ kaiwinning Follow
Gentle reminder that your pagh femininity can be damaged by engaging in unclean behaviors, such as violence, contact sports, rectal copulation, and real person shipping. Please stay vigilant and protect your pagh in the name of the Prophets!
#kai speaks #religion #the prophets #pagh #pagh hacks
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⚾ captainsiskoofficial Follow
So, was anyone going to inform me that someone installed this ancient program onto the station's computer, or did everyone assume that I would eventually learn from Jake?
9 notes
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🛸 nogging5 🔁 jakeykeykey Follow
📰 jakeykeykey Follow
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🛸 nogging5 Follow
Jake, I'm starting to worry about your obsession with "ancient" humor....
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🛠️ chiefengineer1 🔁 moremorn Follow
🍺 moremorn Follow
🛠️ chiefengineer1 Follow
How are you doing that?
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💲 sponsored
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COME TO QUARK'S, QUARK'S IS FUN! COME TO QUARK'S, DO ...
→ Learn More ←
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🍞 bababariel Follow
It seems as though I have returned, but as an entity inside the station computer.
#there are a lot of us in here
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🐊 cardassianpride Follow
Vent. Don't reblog.
#How long has my ex wife been sleeping with my guls?! #I just caught her doing it with the new recruit #and she tried to tell me this shit about how since I do it all the #time then she can do it too? #and I tried to explain but she just said that we aren't #married anymore so I can't tell her what to do #the state of the cardassian family is in fucking pieces #cardassia is doomed in the hands of women like these #ugh I need to call *** ***** to feel better #vent
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💴 finance-advice Follow
To the last anon: no, the Grand Nagus will not give personal advice to anyone who makes under four million slips of latinum per fiscal year. This was outlined in the Nagus' own rulebook in volume 3, section 387, paragraph 910. You would know this if you had done your own research. Stop asking for more clarification or you will be audited.
#finance #commerce #cw audit #mod b
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🍾 kanar-gul Follow
Repair station pussy really hit different
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🐊 cardassianpride 🔁 cardassianpride Follow
All of these beautiful bajoran women ready to serve the state make me fit to burst 😍😍😍
🐊 cardassianpride Follow
WRONG BLOG WRONG BLOG WRONG BLOG
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🍞 bababariel 🔁 quarkeyyy Follow
🧝 yourfriendlyvorta Follow
Hello, friends! What a wonderful opportunity for me to introduce myself using this, delightful, quaint social media experience! Let me, as the first Dominion representative on this platform, extend my warm welcome to the citizens of the Alpha Quadrant!
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darkbluekies · 6 months
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Like magic —Part 1
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part 2 Male!yandere x female!reader x female!yandere
Hogwarts AU
Summary: your parents have denied you access to going to hogwarts, but finally in your 3d year, you manage to sneak off. But is life really that good at hogwarts when two students take a concerningly big interest in you?
Warnings: bullying, indications of unstable home life, kissing (dubcon?), forcing reader to throw up,
Word count: 6.8k
A/N: I have loosely followed the AU, but have made up my own things for the plot to work, so don't take my work literally :)
It has to be a joke, right? There’s no way that you can run straight through a wall! You gulp and look around, seeing if anyone else is doing the same, or if anyone is noticing how much you’re staring at the pillar separating the two platforms. Finally, you see two others make it through and you decide to make a run for it. You close your eyes and when you dare to open them again, you’re there. The train, the students, it’s finally time. After three, long years. 
You were supposed to start when you were eleven, but you weren’t allowed to. They didn’t believe you. If you hadn't picked the lock to your bedroom, you'd not be here this year either. You don't have anything — no books, no animals, no broom. You only have a wand and a packed suitcase. You watch the other students already wearing their Hogwarts uniforms. They hug their parents and catch up with their friends. You sneak onto the train and sit down in your own little coupe. Your heart is hammering against your chest. Your parents will figure it out soon enough and you're terrified that they'll stand on the platform and demand you to get off. 
Just start the train, make it leave.
"Oh, excuse me", a voice says.
You turn your head to the door, seeing a blonde girl standing there with a black, Grey and yellow uniform on.
"Can I sit with you?" she asks and quickly adds: "I saw you out on the platform. You looked rather lost so i just wanted to see if I could help you."
"Yeah, sure", you answer, startled. "Thank you."
The girl sits down on the couch in front of you with a smile.
"I'm Hedwig", she smiles. "Third year student. What's your name?"
"Y/N", you answer hesitantly. "I'm … new."
"I see. You're a first year student?"
"Not exactly, no … I'm supposed to be in third year too-"
"Oh, really?" Hedwig shines up. "I don't think I've ever seen you before. Which house are you in?"
"I don't know." You shrug embarrassedly. "This is technically my first year."
"Oh … I see." She smiles brightly. "That's totally fine. I can help you if you want. We have some hours to kill, so I can fill you up on most things so you're not as lost when you reach Hogwarts as you were out on the platform."
"Yes, please, that would be great. Thank you."
Hedwig fills you in on basic information. Four houses, different characteristics, a talking hat gives you your house. The school is a gigantic castle that has moving stairs, every house has passwords to their common rooms, some teachers are asses, some are okay, some are nice. Don't wander into the forest, especially at night, stay out of certain corridors. The janitor's cat is an asshole.
"I suppose you're a muggleborn then", Hedwig smiles and adds when you frown confusedly: "born and raised by normal people. Otherwise you'd know most things already."
"Are you?" you wonder, wanting to find something in common with this extraordinary girl.
"Halfblood, actually. My dad is a businessman and my mother is a witch. But don't worry, I don't care about what type of families people come from. It doesn't interest me in the slightest."
"Do some care?"
Hedwig squirms uncomfortably. "Some do. Some people think that being from a wizard family makes them superior to halfbloods and muggleborns, but don't you worry, those people aren't worth socializing with."
"Which house are you in?"
Hedwig smiles and shows you the yellow logo on her cape. You can see a badger in the middle.
"I'm a Hufflepuff!" she smiles and giggles. "The best house according to me, but I'm supposedly a bit biased."
"Which do you think I'll get into?" you ask.
"I'm not sure. It's hard for me to say after only talking with you for thirty minutes … but I think you could be a Hufflepuff like me … or a Gryffindor."
"Why a Gryffindor?"
"I don't know, but you seem to have a steady heart."
"Which is the worst house?"
"There's no such thing as a 'worst house', Y/N. Every house has both good and bad people — even Hufflepuff. Although some houses may have a bigger percentage of 'bad' people." She sighs. "Slytherin. Although I do have some friends from Slytherin, some of the students in that house can be quite … scary. Their pride can be extremely big and they let that go out over other people. Don't worry about it though, not everyone is mean."
You nod and gulp.
Hedwig catches you up on some easy spells and knowledge on the rest of the way. You avoid every type of question that can lead her to know about your … situation.
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You get sorted into a house in private, after Hedwig asks the principal about not pulling so much attention to you. You're embarrassed as if already. You're a Ravenclaw.
"The uniform is so pretty on you, Y/N!" she gasps as you come out of Dumbledore's office. "The blue looks really good on you."
"Thank you", you say and feel the material. "What do I do now?"
"We'll go back to the welcome ceremony and then you'll have to talk to your prefects. They'll fill you in with everything you need to know." She takes your hands in hers. "If you ever need any books, let me know and I'll lend you one, okay?"
"Thank you, Hedwig."
She doesn't let your hands go. You have to pull them back to be able to walk to the hall. You sit down with the other third years and glance over to Hedwig’s table.
"You know Hedwig?" a Ravenclaw boy with black eyes asks. 
"I met her on the train", you say.
"She's the most popular girl in our year", a girl says. "Everyone wants to be her friend."
"Really?" you wonder and glance at Hedwig who's sitting and smiling with her fellow Hufflepuffs. "She never came across as someone popular."
Maybe you're too used to how the people back home act.
When all the first years have gotten their houses and the food has been devoured, you follow your prefect through mighty corridors that have ghosts flowing past. You enter a rower with a long, spiral staircase. Your legs hurt after four steps.
"Y/N", the prefect says. "Before I show you to the dormitory, I need to talk to you a bit. Do you know any magic at all?"
"Hedwig taught me a bit on the train", you reply, concluding that only saying her first name should work if she's as popular as that boy had insisted.
"You'll have to take extra classes unless you want to start all over with the first graders."
You shake your head quickly. Rather hard work now than be known as 'the third grader among first years' for your entire school time.
You're led into the dormitory and granted your own bed. Your things are already in your drawers. After this long, eventful day, you fall asleep quickly, finally where you should be. When waking up, you’re first confused about where you are, sure that everything that happened yesterday was just a nightmare … but no, it was all real. 
"Now, don't be alarmed, my dear", Hedwig says when you meet her. "You will do just fine, okay?"
"I have never been around the castle", you mumble and take a bite out of your toast. 
"Your first lesson is Transfiguration. You'll have that class with the Slytherin students."
"Will we have any classes together?"
Hedwig smiles widely. "Sure, we will. But I think you better go now, you start in ten minutes." 
Hedwig shoots her book over the table.
"Here you go" she smiles. "Good luck now, I'll meet you for lunch, okay? You can sit with me."
"Okay, thank you", you say quietly and walk out of the great hall. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest and you start to wonder if the feeling of needing to throw up is real or only imaginary.
You find yourself lost in the large corridors before finally finding your way.
"I'm so sorry", you say quietly as you enter. "I lost my way."
"I will have mercy on you this time", the professor says. "But don't think that this will be a habit of yours, young lady. I expect you to be on time from now on."
"Of course, Professor McGonagall. I'll never be late again."
"Very well." She looks around. "Sit down beside Edmund, all the Ravenclaw seats are filled."
"Yes, professor."
You glance over the class and see an empty seat with a boy wearing the Slytherin uniform sitting beside it. He looks bored out of his mind. Carefully, you make your way over and sit down. Edmund glances at you.
"Who are you?" he mutters. "Are you a transfer student or something?"
"Something like that", you answer. 
The class starts and you immediately feel your head spin. You can't keep up.
"What's the matter, new girl?" Edmund chuckles while he leans his cheek in his hand. 
"I-I've never done anything like this!" you hiss to avoid anyone else hearing. 
Edmund’s face drops. He seems to … crawl together without having to move.
"You're a … a-", he starts.
"Edmund and Y/N, if you're going to continue talking, I'll use the both of you as guinea pigs — literally!" the professor says sternly.
Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when the rest of the class turns to look at the both of You. Edmund rolls his eyes and grabs his book. When they turn around, you breathe out.
As break time starts, Edmund joins his friends.
"New girl", he says, catching your attention. "Next time, come earlier so I don't have to sit with you again."
"Of course", you mutter and leave.
You smile when you see Hedwig wait for you by the entrance to the big hall. She holds out her hand.
"I've missed you!" she smiles and hugs you tightly. "I was worrying for you all through Herbology!" She holds your hand while pulling you with her. "Tell me everything!"
You sit down by the Ravenclaw table to eat. Hedwig’s hazel eyes never leave yours. 
"I came late, so I sat down beside a Slytherin student."
Hedwig's smile thins out slightly. "Oh? Who? Do I know them?"
"His name is Edmund."
Hedwig chokes on her pumpkin soup and starts to cough. 
"What's wrong?" you ask quickly and pat her back.
"Did he say anything to you?" Hedwig asks worriedly. 
"He just told me to be quicker to class next time so he didn't have to sit with me. A bit rude, if you ask me."
"A bit rude? Y/N, that boy is a bully!"
You feel a shiver run down your back. 
"Edmund is one of those bad Slytherins I told you about", Hedwig says quietly. "He's a pureblood and … thinks he's better than anyone else. It's said that his parents helped … well, you know who, before he disappeared two years ago." 
Hedwig had talked about that man on the train. You gulp.
"Whatever you do, Y/N — and promise me this — don't go close to Edmund", Hedwig says and holds your hands in hers. "Please?"
You nod. Hedwig smiles and caresses your cheek.
"Let's go to the library and study on the lunch break", she says. "There's so much you need to learn!"
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You study with Hedwig every day. But she doesn't seem to mind, she neglects her friends to be with you. 
"What a cute sight, isn't it?" you hear a voice say.
You're sitting in the courtyard, studying magical history. You look up, seeing Edmund and his two friends come over.
"One half and one mudblood, how sweet", he says with a wide smile. "They really do be letting anyone in these days."
“What is wrong with you?” Hedwig gasps. “Have you no shame?!”
“What? Did I say anything wrong? Aren’t you halfblood, Hedwig?” He turns to you. “New girl, aren’t you muggleborn? What did I say that is wrong, Hedwig?”
“You do not call Y/N that. You are a disgrace to the wizarding world, Edmund.”
“I find it funny how someone that isn’t fully pure is calling me a disgrace.”
Hedwig grabs your hand and helps you up on your feet. 
“Come, Y/N”, she says. “Let’s leave. We can’t study here.”
You nod. While Hedwig drags you away from the courtyard, you glance over your shoulders, seeing Edmund’s icy eyes follow you. 
“I can’t believe that he called you that”, Hedwig says quietly and pulls you with her. “I’m furious.”
“What did that mean?” you ask carefully. “Why did that matter so much?”
“Mudblood, Y/N, is one of the foulest things anyone can ever call a person. It basically means that your blood is disgusting for not being born into a wizard family. He … he called you something less than human. It’s disgusting.” Hedwig hugs you tightly and hides her face into your shoulder. “You don’t deserve that. You’re such a sweet soul, I’m so sorry.”
“Hedwig, it’s okay”, you promise with a smile. “I didn’t take any offense — I barely knew what it meant.”
“I get sad for you. You don’t deserve that.” She thinks for a moment and then lights up. "Would you like to have a sleepover?"
"How would that work out?" 
"Sneak into Hufflepuff, I'll give you the password. I'll take all the blame if we get caught. Please, Y/N? It'll be so much fun."
"The girls you share a dormitory with will be tell on us-"
"No, they won't! Trust me. The girls like me, they wouldn't tattletail."
It must be beneficial to be popular. You frown. Aren't you quite famous now too? After being glued to Hedwig’s hip for over a month must have caused rumors. You have been so busy with your extra classes and studying that you haven't been able to catch up with it all. You barely know what your fellow Ravenclaws are named.
"Please, Y/N?" Hedwig pleads. "It will be so much fun. I will get us some snacks and we can read together and tell stories."
"Where should I sleep?"
"In my bed, of course! We're friends, it's not weird. What do you say?"
"Alright, if you promise that we won't get in trouble."
"No one will tell, I promise!" She takes your hand. "Let's go to the library and study now."
You do sneak into the Hufflepuff common room that evening together with Hedwig. You can't help but feel terribly wrong and every motion you make feels watched. At any time someone will pop out and you'll be caught. Hedwig pulls you through the common room and you can't help but gawk. Why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?
Wearing your pajamas, you climb down into Hedwig’s bed. She smiles, cuddling up beside you. Her arm hugs yours, her head leaning onto your shoulder. The other girls in the dormitory glances at you, but none of them say anything to you. 
“Y/N, what do you want to do?” she asks. “Would you like to read anything? Or just sleep? Or anything else?”
“I think I’d just like to sleep”, you say quickly. “My nerves are still telling me that this is a bad idea.”
You don’t admit it out loud, but you want it to be over as quickly as possible before someone finds you out. Hedwig nods and turns off the lights. You lay down in the light of the moon and feel how Hedwig crawls down beside you. She pets your hair in a loving manner, feeling it gently.
“You have such pretty hair”, she whispers, making sure no one else hears. “I always stare at it. Have you caught me looking?”
“Actually, no”, you smile. “I know you look at me a lot, but I didn’t know you looked at my hair specifically.”
“I’m not only looking at your hair, silly. I think you’re pretty.”
“I think you’re pretty too, Hedwig.”
“Really? Do you really think so?”
You nod. She seems to burst with happiness.
“But you already know that”, you say. “Everyone loves you. Everyone tells you that.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference when someone you don’t care about says it and when someone you hold dear tells you.”
You smile. Hedwig’s hazel eyes glisten in the moonlight as she smiles widely and curls up in your arms, like a cat. She holds you tightly, hiding her own face into your neck. You’re not sure how, but you do fall asleep easily that night — snug and secure in her warm embrace.
The next morning, Hedwig doesn't want to let you go. She begs you to skip breakfast and lay in bed, buy you insist on eating.
“Before we go, could you please try my uniform?” Hedwig pleads and holds up the yellow and black uniform. “I want to see how you’d look like if you were a Hufflepuff. Please, Y/N? Just for fun?”
“We’ll be late for breakfast”, you mumble. 
“Nonsense.”
She has already start to tug at your pajamas. You give in and put on the Hufflepuff uniform. Hedwig watches you with excited eyes. 
“Oh, why weren't you placed in Hufflepuff?” she sighs. “Why weren’t you placed with me?”
“I don’t know, Hedwig.”
“It’s so unfair.” She pouts. “We belong together. We’re destined to be side by side. Why did the sorting hat have to put us in two different houses?”
“The sorting hat has its reasons. Now, give me back my own uniform so that I can go to breakfast.”
“Yeah, yeah …”
You change into your own uniform before sneaking out to the corridor with no one in sight. A small smile plays on your lips. You managed to to do it!
Together, you walk to the great hall but before you reach it, Professor Snape has caught the both of you. 
“You two better follow with me”, he says coldly. “You’re both in deep trouble.”
Shit. He knows. 
Hedwig takes your hand, squeezing it. You only have time to look at her terrified eyes before you’re pulled into Snape’s office. He’s not alone. It seems like the entire faculty staff is there. Hedwig’s squeeze becomes tighter. 
“Y/N, you went into the Hufflepuff house this night”, Dumbledore says, not sparing any sweet talk. “That is strictly forbidden.”
“I made her do it”, Hedwig says firmly. “Y/N hesitated, I told her into it, I convinced her. Please don't punish her, I was the one giving out the password from the beginning."
"These are serious things, miss."
"I know. I just … I really want to be with Y/N." She takes your hand. "More than anything. I’m so sorry for causing all of this, professor. I will never do it again. Punish me only, please.”
“Snape, this is a clear sign of innocent love”, Dumbledore tells the other man. 
You flinch. Love?
“I don’t care”, Snape mutters. “They broke the rules.”
“I don’t see any malice in their intentions. They only wanted to be with each other. I will not punish them — this time — but if they do this again, I will give them a week’s long detention in different classes. I can’t punish miss Hedwig all too much, after all, she is Y/N’s tutor. But if you break the rules again, Hedwig, we will find someone else to tutor her, is that clear?”
“Yes, professor”, Hedwig replies. “Thank you for not punishing us. We will make sure to behave.”
“You can go.”
Hedwig tugs on your hand before you leave. Your head is spinning with confusion. Who snitched you out? Did one of the girls do that? They could risk house points and to get in conflict with Hedwig … no they wouldn’t risk any of that. Then who?
“Breaking rules is so not Hufflepuff behavior”, a voice snickers. 
You turn to the side, seeing Edmund lean against the wall. 
“You spied on us?” you ask. 
“Spy?” Edmund wonders and stands up. “I couldn’t care less about the two of you, don’t flatter yourselves. You two are like annoying, loud flies, I can’t ignore you because you’re always in my face.”
“Don’t listen to him”, Hedwig says and pulls on your arm. “Let’s go get some breakfast, Y/N.”
“Careful, Hedwig”, Edmund smirks. “You heard what they said: break one more rule and you lose tutor privileges over Y/N.”
You roll your eyes as the two of you walk alongside each other. Edmund’s words don’t feel good in your stomach and you have an eerie suspicion that he’s going to do something. 
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You sit out in the grass, reading. While Hedwig is having her defense against dark arts-class you have a free period. Deciding to take your alone time to your benefit, you decide to read up on some things beforehand.
"Where's your little halfblood?" you hear that voice ask.
You look up from your book, seeing Edmund and his two minions grin at you.
"In class", you answer shortly and start to change pages, hoping he gets the hint that you're busy and leaves you alone. 
Edmund snatches the book from you. You cut your finger on the paper. With a hiss, you stand up. Edmund laughs as he looks in the book.
"I learned this last year", he chuckles. "You really are a transfer student. Cute."
"Give it to me", you sigh. "I'm not in the mood, I have to learn that."
"You won't learn from the book. We barely used it for this topic."
"Great. I'm doomed."
"I could offer you some tutoring. I got full marks after all."
You frown. "Why would you do that?"
"What can I say? I'm a generous spirit. Besides, I'm bored. Teaching a little mudblood magic could entertain me for a week or two."
"Don't you have class?"
"Not until twelve thirty." Edmund points at the castle wall with the book. "Sit down, mudblood, let's learn."
That 'nickname' makes your stomach turn. After knowing the full definition, you'd rather have Edmund call you something along the lines of a whore — that way you could actually have some clever comebacks. Mudblood, on the other hand, is nothing you can answer to. You sit down slowly. Edmund sits down on your left side and his two minions on your right side. Edmund opens the book and puts his finger to a paragraph.
"See this?" he asks. "This is something you have to learn in case you want to pass. The checklist doesn't contain this, but it will come anyway. So learn it."
You nod. 
"Take up your wand", he says. "You have to learn this spell."
You pick up your wand from your pocket. Edmund orders one of his friends to stand in front of you as he holds his hand over yours, showing you how you're supposed to move. His hand is cold. The spell causes his friend's wand to be sent flying. You lay the word Expelliarmus onto your mind.
"This is actually great for dueling", he says. "We had some dueling classes last year, but I guess we'll have this year too. In that case, you'll have to have mastered these spells or you can kiss your ass goodbye."
"You'll end up in the hospital wing", one of Edmund’s friends grins.
"H-Hospital wing?" you say and damn yourself for stuttering. 
The three of them chuckles.
"Yes, little girl, hospital wing", Edmund smirks darkly. "Ending up there is never fun. People often scream in pain there. If you end up there you'll never be the same again."
Your wide eyes make Edmund laugh. He presses the book in your arms and stands up.
"Let's make a deal", Edmund says. "Do you know what quidditch is?"
"Hedwig told me on the train", you reply.
"I play. If Slytherin wins the next match, you're going to be my little maid for a full week. You'll do everything I tell you to. And if those ridiculous Gryffindors win, you're free from polishing my shoes."
"I don't get anything either way."
"Don't be greedy, transfer student."
He takes your hand and shakes it before you have time to register. 
"Now you can't back out", he smiles proudly.
"Did you enchant-?"
"Yes."
You rip your hand back, snatch your book and start to walk away. You meet up with Hedwig who's walking out of the classroom.
"What's wrong?" she asks quickly, rubbing your shoulder. "You look disturbed."
"Edmund and his friends cornered me outside. He forced me to make a deal with him."
Hedwig goes white. "What type of deal?"
"He plays quidditch and if he wins the next match, I have to be his maid for a week."
"Oh, my God, I hate him." She cups your cheeks. "We'll come up with a way to stop him or break the deal. Worst case scenario, we'll have to ruin for the entire Slytherin team and then we'll be dead, but if we have to then …"
You nod.
"Let's get you something to eat", Hedwig smiles and takes your hand.
She stays with you until your class starts. The second the classroom door closes, her smile drops. She makes her way over to the Slytherin entrance and waits for one to come out.
"What are you doing here?" the Slytherin girl asks.
"I need to speak to Edmund, do you know where he is?" Hedwig asks shortly.
"I'd suppose the quidditch court. He came in laughing and said that he had to train hard this time."
"That son of a- … thank you, for your help."
"No problem."
The Slytherin girl passes her and Hedwig scoffs. The audacity of Edmund …
She makes her way over to the quidditch court, finding him training all alone. He doesn't notice her at first, but when he does  a smirk plays on his lips. He flies down to the ground and steps off his broom, holding it close to his body.
"Well, well", he says. "I start to believe that you're obsessed with me the way you're always hanging around. By the way, did you know that there's a rumor going around about you and Y/N? You're not slick, you know. Everyone knows that you're head over heels for her."
"Cut the talk, Edmund. Break the deal with Y/N. She has enough on her plate. I'm not going to let you hurt her."
"You came here to threaten me? Careful now, Hedwig, think about what you're doing." 
"I'm not going to let you take her from me."
Edmund takes a step closer. His icy cold blue eyes seem to darken without having to change their light color. "Listen closely, you filthy, little halfblood", he hisses. "If you try to interfere — if you even try as much as to stick your pointy little nose into my business — I'll put you into the hospital wing until I'm done with Y/N. Is that clear?"
Hedwig can't answer. Edmund walks past her, intentionally hitting her shoulder with his. 
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The day for the match arrives. 
"I think that I'm going to throw up", you mutter, taking a hold of the wood railing in front of you.
The two teams are flying above you, tension growing.
"I'm sure he won't win", Hedwig says, but she sounds hesitant. 
“Slytherin has the lead!"
"Let's hope that the Gryffindor seeker gets the snitch."
"Did you manage to destroy for Edmund?"
Hedwig shakes her head carefully. You groan and rest your forehead down on the wooden railing. Another score has been made and you don't want to look. Finally, someone has caught the snitch. Slytherin wins. You look up in horror, eyes darting to Edmund. He's looking right at you with a smirk. You're dead.
Already the next morning, Edmund waits for you outside the Ravenclaw entrance. He dumps his heavy books in your hands.
"We're having a class together", he says. "And you are going to carry my books."
You groan and take a better grip on his — and your — books, unsure how you're going to carry them all to the other side of the school.
"Where's your friends?" you ask.
"They're still at breakfast", Edmund replies as you start to walk. "I don't need them now, not when you're carrying my things. Speaking of friends, I don't want you to be with that annoying Hufflepuff during the entire week."
"I'm not going to be your dog."
"Oh, yes, you are — and you're going to bark if I tell you to."
"What am I going to do when you're in class and I'm not, then? Be all alone?"
"Yes, because if I find out that you've been talking to her, I'm going to make you wish you never transferred here, got that?"
You nod. Edmund doesn't say anything more until you reach the classroom. He catches up with his friends who laugh loudly when they see you. Oh, how you wish that you knew any transfiguration spell that could turn you into a mouse.
"Look, she's embarrassed!" one of his friends mock.
Others start to turn to look at you with chuckles. Their stares burn right through you. You want to hide your face in the pile of books in your hands. 
"Sit with me", Edmund says and grabs your tie to pull you with him. "You're going to take notes for me."
You sit down in the middle of the classroom. Edmund pushes you to the chair by the wall while he takes the aisle seat, trapping you. You take notes for him while simultaneously trying to ignore that he exists. Surprisingly, you're great at multitasking. 
You give him the notes as soon as the class is dismissed. Edmund reads it with a smirk on his face.
"Good job, little girl", he says. "I can actually read them." He folds it and puts it in his pocket. "Now, let's go get some air."
Together with his two friends, you walk out to the courtyard. You can see Hedwig with some of her friends walking from the Herbology classroom. She hugs books close to her body, one being the Herbology book, the other a book about potions. You meet her eyes. She suddenly looks incredibly sad, but tries to give you a small, reassuring smile. You're close to jumping out of your skin when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Turning, you see that Edmund has noticed Hedwig as well. He squeezes your shoulder while keeping eye contact with the girl. Hedwig turns her eyes away and speeds her steps.
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Not seeing Hedwig feels like a punishment in itself. Edmund and his friends aren't pleasant, at all — or at least not his friends, Edmund’s not been as bad as you thought. He's toned down on the vulgar nicknames and started small talking when you're walking.
"Stop fucking yawning", Edmund mutters and hits you in the back of your head.
"Why are we up before the sun?" you whine and rub your eyes.
"You're going to watch my quidditch practice."
He drags you out into the cold, autumn air, over to the high wooden pillars of the quidditch court. You're sat down in the Slytherin section and told to sit there until he's done. Edmund disappears to the changing room and comes out in his quidditch uniform. You sit still, watching. You can't quite understand the rules, even if you've already watched a match. You're unsure of what Edmund’s position is or what the flying balls are used for. Every minute grows colder. When the sun has risen, you're as cold as ice. You can no longer feel your fingers or toes.
Edmund flies over to you, now holding his Slytherin scarf and gloves in his hand.
"You're so stupid, why didn't you bring your own scarf?" he mutters while tying his around your cold neck. 
"I barely knew who I was when I walked out of the common room", you mumble. "I was so tired. And now I'm cold and hungry."
"You do nothing but complain, do you? Breakfast is in an hour. Think you can hold out until then?"
You nod tiredly. 
"Good girl" he says and puts the gloves on your cold hands. "Keep your hands in the gloves and put them in your pockets. You're like a child, unbelievable."
Ironic, coming from a brat like Edmund. You take a deep breath and sink into the seat. When Edmund’s done, he changes into his normal uniform and comes to meet you. You start to take off the scarf, but his hands stop you.
"Leave it on", he says shortly. "Come now."
The second you enter the castle, you feel warmer. You're about to remove the scarf for a second time.
"God, woman, just keep it on, will you?" Edmund mutters and ties it to the point where you choke. 
"We're inside now, I don't need it anymore."
"Oh, trust me, you do."
"Why?"
Edmund smirks. "To give your girlfriend a sweet little memory."
"We're not together though."
Edmund furrows his brows and nods, clearly thinking hard.
"Very well", he says. "Winners keeper, I say."
"What?" 
"Nothing."
His icy blue eyes sparkle in a new, competitive way, like he's now gotten a new challenge. His hands tie a double knot in the scarf before sending you off to the Ravenclaw table. The others give you weird glances. By now, it's not a secret that you're Edmund’s pet. Although it's only two days left of your week, you're sure that your reputation as his dog will stay with you throughout your entire schooling. 
You look around, noticing Hedwig sitting by the Hufflepuff table. She looks at you with something you can't describe in her eyes, something dark. She holds something in her hand. You can just make out the outline of a small, pink bottle. She gives you a small, sad smile. All you want is to go over and hug her, but you remember Edmund’s warning. You have a class together after breakfast however, he can’t forbid you from going to it. 
Your plate is already set out with a glass full of pumpkin juice. Devouring it would be an understatement — especially after the morning you’ve had. You're happy no one is taking a picture.
The day continues normally after Edmund’s rude awakening. You can meet up with Hedwig in Herbology class, and oh, how happy you're to see her. You hug her tightly, earning a mirroring squeeze back. She buries her head into your hair. 
"I've missed you so much", she coos, hugging you tightly. “So, so much.”
You breathe her in, mind getting fogged up with her scent. Oh, how you want nothing more than to ditch Edmund and be with her. Hedwig doesn't seem to mind how you cling onto her and you’re surprised yourself with how much you want to hold onto her. She strokes your hair with a smile. Being back with Hedwig — despite Edmund's warnings — feels like absolute paradise. The few days spent apart has made you see her in a completely new light. You’ve forgotten how pretty she is. 
"I can't watch that anymore", she sighs and starts to remove the Slytherin scarf from your neck. "Where is your scarf, dearest?"
"In my dormitory", you answer sheepishly. 
Hedwig gives you a motherly stern gaze before taking off her Hufflepuff scarf and tying it around your neck. It smells just like her.
"That's better", Hedwig smiles. "Don't you think so?"
You nod. Much, much better. The teacher interrupts your talk with demands of the two of you working. You don't mind, because you work with Hedwig who knows exactly what to do. 
"Would you like to read on the break?" Hedwig asks you.
You nod, not even thinking about Edmund’s threats. You follow her out to the yard, sitting on one of the brick walls with her. You lay down with her head in her lap while she reads aloud for you. You can't focus on the words, only how they're formed through Hedwig's pink lips. You want to feel them on yours. Before you have time to think, you reach up to kiss her. Her lips melt into yours instantly.Hedwig lets go of her book and cups her cheeks to kiss back. Fuck Edmund, you think. You pull Hedwig closer, wanting to be filled with her and her only. Everything about her is soft, even her kisses. They're filled with love and taste like strawberry.
"What the fuck are you doing?" the voice you've just damned says angrily. "I warned you, mudblood, didn't I?"
He rips you from Hedwig, up on your feet. Edmund glances from Hedwig to you, and back. He halts and grabs a hold of your face, opening your eyes with his thumbs. 
"You sneaky bitch!" he gasps. "You've given her a love potion!"
"I have not", Hedwig replies defensively. 
"Really? Then why are her pupils heart shaped?"
Hedwig doesn't answer. Edmund grabs a hold of your arms.
"If you excuse me, I'm going to go shove my fingers down her throat to get it out of her", he says coldly.
"You are not!" Hedwig screeches and rips you back.
"Then you'll get it out of her. I don’t care how, but Y/N is going to puke that love potion out before the break is over. Y/N is still mine, remember? I have two more days to do whatever I want with her."
Hedwig groans. Edmund, you, Hedwig and Edmund’s two friends make your way to the girls bathroom. The boys wait outside while Hedwig takes you into the bathroom stalls. She helps you throw up the love potion, holding your hair in her hands. 
“And there goes my well earned breakfast …”, you sigh groggily and get up from your knees. 
“I’m sorry, Y/N”, Hedwig whispers guiltily with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want to trick you or anything, please don’t believe that. I-I just … I was scared that Edmund had manipulated you. I had to make sure that you knew that … he wasn’t good.”
You sigh and nod heavily. “I understand, but I had wished that you hadn’t given to me without my knowledge.”
“I’m really, really sorry. Can you please forgive me?”
The tears fall down her cheeks. You can’t be mad at her, not after every nice thing she’s done to you. You can see how bad she feels. You’re sure that she won’t do it again. 
“Of course”, you say. “I’m just grateful that you didn’t make a potion that did something bad. It wasn’t the potion itself that was bad, it was the way you did it.”
“I understand. I’ll never do it again, I promise! I will never, ever do anything like that again!” She takes your hands and sniffles. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I-I do like you more than a friend … but I will not let that come between our friendship. Please don’t leave me. I can lose every single friend I have … but not you. Oh, God, not you.”
You can hear Edmund bang on the door to the girls bathroom impatiently and you sigh.
“I can’t spend time with you right now”, you say. “Edmund’s right — unfortunately — I have two more days in his captivity. If not, he’s promised to ruin my life. I don’t want to take that risk, I’ve had enough problems.” You squeeze her hands. “It’s just two more days.”
Hedwig sniffles and nods. “Okay.”
You give her a small smile before going back to Edmund. He tells his friends to take you further down in the corridor while he talks with Hedwig. She wipes her tears and glares at him. 
“Silly girl”, Edmund scoffs. “You’re not that bright, are you?”
“I don’t know what you want Y/N, but at least I didn’t do anything to cause her harm, like you do”, Hedwig answers sharply. “I did something that would benefit her.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Y/N belongs to me now and if you don’t want to get hurt, Hedwig, stay out of my way, got it? I’m warning you. If I were you, I’d listen.”
Hedwig takes a step closer. “I’m not going to let anybody take her from me.”
Edmund’s eyebrow twitches. “Alright then. Suit yourself.”
With that said, he walks towards his friends and you, leaving Hedwig behind. He rips of the Hufflepuff scarf. 
“Get that ugly thing off of your neck”, he mutters and drags you with him. “Can’t even leave you alone for five minutes! Can’t fucking believe that little filth. If Hedwig gets to play dirty, then I do too.” He stops to wipe of your lips. “If you ever kiss her again, I’ll kill her.”
You try push his arm off of you, but instead, it tightens and he gives you a stern look. 
“I should just do it …”, he mutters. 
“Do what?”
He gives your lips a quick peck. You stand as frozen, looking up at him in shock. Edmund rests his hand on your cheek. 
“Never kiss her again.”
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rockatanskette · 8 months
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So, I've written before about how our relationship with predators would probably intimidate aliens, but I just pictured another way we interact with predators that is honestly just as scary from an outside perspective: we pretend to be predators and even make up new ones, all just for fun.
Now, we also adopt predator patterns for utility: wearing striped makeup for camouflage, imitating roars and bird calls, etc. But I'm specifically talking about the video I just saw from Creature Bionics of creature rigs designed for a human actor to better do motion capture. I'm talking about voice actors and sound designers creating new and terrifying clicks and roars and growls because lions' roars just aren't scary enough. I'm talking about adults dressing up as plush monstrosities to entertain sports fans and children. Gritty is terrifying, objectively.
One day at an early meal, human Janet seems confused when her alien crewmates start asking about a shape-shifting monster that they keep seeing in human culture. They ask her what it's like to live on a world with "dogjons;" animals that can shift from a fan-headed creature with eye-covered wings to an amphibious eel-like figure, humanoid but not human, to a death-pale monstrosity that chases anyone who dares get near its food. Human Janet is confused until they say that the pale figure has eyes in its hands; bloodshot, and glassy.
"Oh, Doug Jones! No, he's not a monster, he's just a really good actor. Too good—the Shape of Water awakened something in me, specifically."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, let's just say the lady 'mating' with him isn't a horror story, it's a fantasy." Human Janet says, like it's nothing. Then something seems to occur to her, and her eyes brighten with what the aliens are quickly learning is mischief. "Oh my god. Am I the one who gets to explain monster fucking?"
Elsewhere, an alien accompanies xis human friend on a day out with their young. There's some kind of show being put on for human youth and Xlibthar is excited for this insight into how humans get Like That. Imagine xis surprise when the lights go up on the entertainment platform and a horde of creatures rushes up. They are large and bright yellow, with big black eyes as dark as singularities, with bright red spots on their heads that clearly indicate venom. Xlibthar shrieks and shields xisself behind Akio and Hinata, sure that something has gone terribly wrong.
"What are those?!" Xlibthar demands, quaking in xis shoes.
"Those? Oh, they're just Pikachus." Akio does not seem even the slightest bit distressed, and five-year-old Hinata is absolutely losing her mind with excitement at the sight of these garish monstrosities.
"What. On Earth." Because this could only happen on Earth. "Is a Pikachu?"
"It's a Pocket Monster. It's a series about monsters that battle with each-other. Pikachu is a mouse that can shoot electricity out of its body."
Xlibthar stares at Akio, wondering if this is an example of what humans call "gaslighting," because keeping monsters in your pockets sounds too insane even for humans. And, "you bring these things around your CHILDREN??"
"I mean, they're not real." Akio puts his hands over Hinata's ears. "They're just people in costumes. Though Nintendo would never let you see one with its head off."
Xlibthar has many questions: why? What? How? What? But one question has been answered: if this is what entertains human youth, it is exactly why Humans are Like That.
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Why Millennials aren’t leaving Tiktok
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TOMORROW NIGHT (Mar 22) in TORONTO, then SUNDAY (Mar 24) with LAURA POITRAS in NYC, then Anaheim, and more!
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The news that Gen Z users have abandoned Tiktok in such numbers that the median Tiktoker is a Millennial (or someone even older) prompted commentators to dunk on Tiktok as uncool by dint of having lost its youthful sheen:
https://www.garbageday.email/p/tiktok-millennials-turns
But "why are Gen Z kids leaving Tiktok?" is the wrong question. The right question is, why aren't Millennials leaving Tiktok? After all, we are living through the enshittocene, the great enshittening, in which every platform gets monotonically, irreversibly worse over time, and Tiktok is no exception:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys
To understand why older users are stuck to Tiktok, we need to start with why younger users relentlessly seek out new platforms. To some extent, it's just down to youth's appetite for novelty, but that's only part of the story. To really understand why people come to – and leave – platforms, you have to understand switching costs.
"Switching costs" is the economists' term for everything you have to give up when you change products or services. Switching from Ios to Android probably means giving up a bunch of your apps and purchased media. Switching from an airline where you're a high-status frequent flier to another carrier means giving up on free checked bags and early boarding.
In an open market, rivals have lots of ways to lower these switching costs (it's an open secret that you can call an airline and say, "Hi, I'm a 33rd Order Mason on American Airlines, will you make me a Triple Platinum Diamond Sky-Baron if I switch to Delta?"). Of course, big incumbents hate this, and do everything they can to increase their switching costs, finding ways to impose high switching costs that punish disloyal consumers who have the temerity to go elsewhere.
With social media, lock-in comes for free, thanks to the "collective action problem." Getting people to agree on a given course of action is hard, and as you add more people to the picture, the problem gets harder. It's hard enough to get half a dozen people in your group-chat to agree on where to go for dinner or what board-game to play. But once you're reliant on a social media service to stay in touch with friends, relatives around the world, customers, communities (say, rare disease support groups), and coordination (like organizing your kid's little league car-pool), the problem becomes nearly insoluble. Maybe you can convince your overseas relatives to switch to a Signal group, but can you do the same for your small business's customers, or your old high-school pals?
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/29/how-to-leave-dying-social-media-platforms/
Taken together, switching costs and collective action problems make platforms "sticky," and sticky platforms inevitably enshittify.
Platforms, after all, generate value. They connect end-users with each other (say, little league parents) and they connect end-users to business customers (you and your small business's customers). That value needs to be parceled out among end users, business customers, and the platform's shareholders. A platform can make life better for business customers at its end users' expense by increasing the number of ads (hello, Youtube!), and it can make life better for its shareholders at its business customers' expense by decreasing the share of ad revenue given to publishers or performers (oh, hello again, Youtube!).
From a platform's perspective, the ideal state is one in which end users and business customers get no value from the platform, because it's all being captured by the platform's shareholders. But if Youtube interrupted every 30 seconds of video for ten minutes of ads and paid the video creators nothing, both users and creators would ditch the platform – and advertisers would follow:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dab8sKg8Ko8
So platforms seek an equilibrium: "what is the least value we apportion to end-users and business customers without triggering their departure?" Maybe that means giving more value to end-users (for example, keeping Uber fares low by suppressing wages), or to business-customers (crowding more ads into your social media feed).
Every business – including brick-and-mortar, non-digitized ones – wants to find some kind of equilibrium between the value going to its suppliers, its customers and its owners, but digital businesses have an advantage here: digital systems are flexible in ways that analog, hard-goods businesses are not. Digital businesses can alter pricing, payouts and other dynamics from moment to moment – second to second – and make a different offer to every supplier and customer. They have a bunch of knobs, and they can twiddle them at will:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/
Well, not quite at will. Businesses face constraints on their twiddling. If they get too greedy, users or business customers might weigh the cost of staying against the switching costs and decide it's not worth it. But the more expensive – the more painful – a platform can make leaving, the more pain they can inflict on the people who stay.
In other words, there's two ways to keep a customer or supplier's business: you can make a better service so they won't want to leave, or you can make leaving the service so painful that they stay even if you mistreat them.
There's three ways a digital company can make things worse for their customers and users without losing their business.
First, they can eliminate competition (think of Mark Zuckerberg buying Instagram to recapture the users who'd fled Facebook to escape his poor management):
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/
Second, they can capture their regulators and avoid punishment for trampling their suppliers' or users' legal rights (think of how Amazon has raised the price of everything we buy, both on- and off Amazon, through its "most favored nation" deals):
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos
Third, they can use IP law to prevent competitors from modifying their services to claw back some of that value (think of how Apple used legal threats to block an Android version of Imessage, blocking Apple customers from having private conversations that included non-Apple customers:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/12/youre-holding-it-wrong/#if-dishwashers-were-iphones
Companies can't just use this tricks at will, of course. Antitrust laws can block companies from making anticompetitve acquisitions or mergers. Regulators can punish companies for cheating their customers, workers and users. Technologists can come up with clever ways of modding or reconfiguring existing services with "interoperable" add-ons that let users bargain for better treatment by refusing to accept worse:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/07/adblocking-how-about-nah
Day in, day out, the decision-makers at tech companies test these constraints, twisting the knobs that shift value away from users to shareholders. Their bosses and boards motivate them with "KPIs" that dangle the promise of huge bonuses and promotions for any manager who successfully enshittifies part of the company's products:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/
Decades of pro-corporate, pro-monopoly policy has loosened those knobs. 40 years of lax antitrust meant that companies had a lot of leeway to buy or merge with rivals – that's changing today, but it's tough sledding:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion
As sectors grew more concentrated, they found it easier to capture their regulators, so that they no longer fear punishment for price-gouging, spying, or wage-theft, so applying the same amount of torque to the "break the law" knob cranks it a lot further:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/
Once you've captured your regulators, you can aim them at your competitors. A monopoly-friendly policy environment has transformed IP law into a bully's charter, allowing powerful companies to strangle would-be competitors who dare to offer their customers tools to shield themselves from enshittification, like scrapers, ad-blockers and alternative clients. Big companies can crank the enshittification knob all the way over and know that smaller rivals knobs won't turn at all:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/20/benevolent-dictators/#felony-contempt-of-business-model
At one point, bosses faced one more constraint on knob-twiddling: their workforce. Many tech workers genuinely cared about their users' welfare, something bosses encouraged as a sneaky trick to get techies to put in long hours without exercising their leverage by quitting rather than destroying their lives to meet arbitrary deadlines. These workers would fearlessly slap their bosses' hands when they reached for the enshittification knob, threatening to quit rather than allowing the products they'd given so much for to be enshittified. Today, after hundreds of thousands of tech layoffs, tech workers are far less like to challenge their bosses' right to twiddle, and far more likely to get fired if they try:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/
All this means that tech bosses don't have to change their approach at all, and yet, their services will grow steadily worse. The boss who twiddles the enshittification knob in exactly the same way as he did a year or a decade ago will find it turning much further, because his customers are locked into his platform, his regulators won't protect them, the same regulators will stop his competitors' attempts at countertwiddling, and his workers fear losing their jobs too much to speak up for their users.
That's the contagion that produced the enshittocene: the forces that constrained companies (competition, regulation, self-help and labor – all melted away, allowing every company's MBA-poisoned knob-twiddling leaders to shamelessly caress their knobs with every hour that God sends:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel
Which is why people want to leave platforms. When a platform loses its users, those users have weighed the switching costs against the pain of staying and decided that it's better to bear those costs than to stay.
So why have Tiktok's younger users found the costs too high to bear, and why have their elders remained stuck to the platform?
For that, we have to look at the unique characteristics of young people – characteristics that transcend the lazy cliche that kids are easily bored, fickle novelty-seekers who hop from one service to another with unquenchable restlessness.
Whether or not kids are novelty-seekers, they are, fundamentally, a disfavored minority. They want to do things that the platforms don't want them to do – like converse without being overheard by authority figures, including their parents and their schools (also: cops and future employers, though kids may not be thinking about them as much).
In other words, kids pay intrinsically lower switching costs than adults, because a platform will always do less for them than it will for grownups. This is a characteristic kids share with other supposedly technophilic, novelty-seeking "early adopters," from sex-workers to terrorists, from sexual minorities to trolls, from political dissidents to fascists. For those groups, the cost of mastering a new technology and assembling a community around it is always more likely to be worth bearing than it would be for people who are well-served by existing tools:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/21/early-adopters/#sex-tech
Pornographers didn't jump on home video because of its superiority as a medium for capturing flesh-tones. Home video was a good porn medium because it was easier to discreetly get into the hands of porn consumers, who could, in turn, discreetly view it. The audience for porn in the privacy of your living room is larger than the audience for porn that you can only watch if you're willing to be seen marching into a dirty movie theater.
Every new technology is popularized by a mix of disfavored groups and neophiles, who normalize and refine it – and yes, infuse it with their countercultural coolth – until it becomes easy enough to use to become mainstream. As more normies drift into the new system, the switching costs associated with leaving the old system declines. It gets easier and easier to find the people and services you want in the new realm, and harder and harder to find them in the old one.
This is why tech platforms have historically experienced sudden collapse: the platform that gets more valuable and harder to leave as it accumulates users gets less valuable and easier to leave as users depart:
https://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/archives/2022/12/05/what-if-failure-is-the-plan.html
If you're a Gen Z kid on Tiktok, you experience the same enshittification as your Millennial elders. But you also experience an additional cost to staying: as late-arriving adult authority figures become more fluent in the platform, they are more able to observe your use of it, and punish you for conduct that you used to get away with.
And if you're a Millennial who isn't leaving Tiktok, it's not just that you experience the same enshittification as those departing Gen Z kids – you also face higher switching costs if you go. The older you get, the more complex your social connections grow. A Gen Z kid in middle school doesn't have to worry about losing touch with their high-school buddies if they switch platforms (they haven't gone to high school yet – and they see their middle school friends in person all the time, giving them a side-channel to share information about who's leaving Tiktok and where they're headed to next). Middle-schoolers don't have to worry about coordinating little league car-pools or losing access to a rare disease support group.
In other words: younger people leave old platforms earlier because they have more to gain by leaving; and older people leave old platforms later because they have more to lose by leaving.
This is why Facebook is filled with Boomers. Yes, their kids bolted for the exits to avoid having their parents (or grandparents) wading into their sexual, social and professional lives. But the reason the Boomers were late joining younger users' Facebook exodus – or the reason they never joined it – is that they stand to lose more by going. Facebook deliberately cultivated this dynamic, for example, by creating a photo hosting service designed to entice users into uploading their family photos while disguising how hard it would be to take those photos with them if they left:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs
The irony here is that tech has intrinsically low switching costs. All other things being equal, a new platform can always build a bridge to ease the passage of users from the old one. There's no (technical) reason that moving to Mastodon, or Bluesky, or any other platform should mean cutting ties with the people who stayed behind.
A combination of voluntary interoperability (where old platforms offer APIs to allow new services to connect with them), mandatory interop (where governments force tech companies to offer APIs) and adversarial interop (where new companies hack together their own API with reverse-engineering, scraping, bots, and other guerrilla tactics) would hypothetically allow users to hop between networks as easily as you change phone carriers:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/19/better-failure/#let-my-tweeters-go
Tech platforms tend to offer APIs when they're getting started (to ease the inward passage of new users) then shut them down after they attain dominance (locking the door behind those users). The EU is tinkering with mandatory APIs through the Digital Markets Act (though bafflingly, they're starting with encrypted messaging rather than social media). Restoring adversarial interoperability will require extensive legal reform, which is getting started through Right to Repair laws:
https://www.techdirt.com/2024/03/13/oregon-passes-right-to-repair-law-apple-lobbied-to-kill/
The people who are stranded on social media platforms shouldn't be mistaken for uncool, aging technophobes. They're not stubborn, they're stranded. Like the elders who can't afford to leave a dying town after the factory shuts down and the young people move away, these people are locked in. They need help evacuating – a place to go and a path to get there.
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Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/21/involuntary-die-hards/#evacuate-the-platformsr
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yunymphs · 2 months
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𝓢𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 & 𝓢𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 . . . ℐ𝐉𝐊 𝓢𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ⤷ a nsfw series by from resident sweetheart, @yunymphs !!
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❤︎ contents: love is in the air . . . or is it? it's hard to maintain relationships with hookup culture, and finding true love is rare these days. but you don't have to choose with them, our sweethearts and sneaky links will have always have a place for you.
❤︎ featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, & sukuna ryomen, fem! reader, ambiguous relationships, smut.
❤︎ note: MDNI, smutty content ahead! all works are for an intended 18+ audience, please monitor your content consumption for your own safety. updates on series will be prioritized over production of current works!
❤︎ from yuyu: thank you for all the support ive made on here for the past few months . i've made many new friends and a lovely community, and i hope this series is something you all enjoy !!
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𝓢𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒
𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 ✘ 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 your fiancé knows you're worried that you're not good enough for him. good thing he's comfortable with spending an hour eating you out to prove to you he's committed for life. how else will you believe him?
𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 ✘ 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐨 baking cakes aren't easy, and your boyfriend doesn't make it any easier. you're two steps from being done, and the last thing you expected him to do was bend you over the counter before you were able to put the candles on.
𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 ✘ 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 your lover has always been a fan of keeping you busy, inside and outside of the bedroom, but this time, he’s got a little surprised planned for you that includes a set of white lingerie and a sex pill.
𝓢𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒
𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 ✘ 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 after a rough exam, your college academic rival figures he can teach you a thing or two. by teaching, you didn’t think he meant physically... especially in the bathroom during his own house party.
𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝’𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 ✘ 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 trying to forget the tattooed man you fucked at a dingy bar a random night is getting more and more difficult as time goes on. nobody ever loved you like he did, and you might just have to go back for seconds— after pretending to be his girlfriend first.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 ✘ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 he never thought that he’d find his solutions in sloppy one night stands and quickies. he’s glad that after a stressful day at work, you’ll always come to his beckon, no matter how late in the night— his own secretary.
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© YUNYMPHS 2024 modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited. do not copy, steal themes, or recommend account on other platforms.
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