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#dude i have been for the past two hours...
junrenjun · 12 hours
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Gone
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alpha!wonwoo x beta!reader (mentioned ot13 x reader)
genre: angst, fluff (wow are we sensing a trend here?)
wc: 1897
warnings: mentions of arguments, implications of violence (jokingly), slightly suggestive at the end, polyamory
summary: wonwoo and the pack return to the apartment after practice to a sulking seungcheol and a missing y/n.
a/n: here's wonwoo's part! you can start to see some hints of reader and the pack's past, especially with wonwoo and seungcheol. enjoy :)
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Wonwoo was, to put it quite plainly, tired. Exhausted even. Today’s schedule had them learning two completely new dances and his brain kept getting them mixed up. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the performance unit and respects their choreographers, but they might have been a little in over their heads. 
As they finished the last hour of rehearsal, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the clock. He was counting down the minutes until he could go home and bask in the presence of his beta. Maybe it was due to the fact that Wonwoo’s rut was set to hit within the next few weeks, but he felt the need to be around you 24/7. To the point where you told him that he was becoming a “grade A clinger.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to care though, you were taking the affection in stride. It was a clear improvement from when he first integrated you into the pack. 
The alpha shook his head to bring him back to the present, right as the choreographers finally cleared the group to head home for the day. Wonwoo doesn’t think he’s ever packed his practice bag faster. Vernon seems to take notice of this. “You good bro?”
Wonwoo doesn’t even look up as he shoves a hoodie over his head. “Yeah, I just can’t wait to get home.”
He sees Vernon’s lips curl into a smirk from the corner of his eye. “So you can whisk y/n away to your room and keep her to yourself for the night? The rest of us would like a little time too. Nice sweatshirt by the way.”
A scent that is clearly not his own invades his senses. He looks down and curses. This hoodie is definitely not his. How did Mingyu’s sweatshirt even get into his bag in the first place? Remembering Vernon’s first comment, Wonwoo finally looks up at his packmate. “I don’t steal her.”
Vernon snorts and mumbles out a “whatever you say dude,” before turning on his heel to go bother Seungkwan. Shocker. Wonwoo resists the urge to roll his eyes. His packmate’s words start to take effect though because he’s pulling out his phone and texting you.
“You can tell me if my clinginess gets too much you know? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or steal you away from the rest of the pack.”
He sends the message before shoving his phone in his (Mingyu’s) pocket. The rest of the pack is slowly making their way to the door, so he follows suit. As they sluggishly head to the vans, he observes his mates. Junhui and Minghao are conversing in Mandarin, Vernon has his arm over Seungkwan’s shoulder and is attached to him like a leech, and Jeonghan is typing away on his phone.
He feels his own phone ping in his pocket and rushes to grab it, hoping you had responded. He deflates when he realizes it’s just Jeonghan, who must have been texting the group chat when he looked over.
“Getting Japanese for dinner. If you want something, say what you want now or forever hold your peace.”
The group chat instantly explodes with everyone’s orders. Wonwoo quickly sends what he wants but frowns when he realizes neither you nor Seungcheol have responded. He tries to brush it off but it’s difficult. He knows that your phone barely leaves your side. 
He purposefully climbs into the seat next to Jeonghan when they get into the van. The omega raises a questioning eyebrow at him. He knows that Wonwoo prefers sitting by Jun and Minghao on the way home after a long day. It is usually the quietest after all.
“What’s wrong?” Jeonghan finally questions.
Wonwoo bites his lip. He’s really questioning himself now that he has to voice his concerns out loud. Is he being overdramatic? Is this just him being a clingy alpha in almost pre-rut? Might as well just get it out he supposes. He knows the pack omega won’t make fun of him. “Have you heard from y/n? I texted her earlier and she hasn’t responded. And then you asked for everyone’s dinner orders and she and Cheol didn’t respond.”
The alpha perks up when Jeonghan responds. “I was kind of worried too. I texted him like 30 minutes ago asking what he wanted for dinner. Never responded so I just decided on the Japanese place he likes. I figured he was sleeping or something, I don’t know. It’s weird that y/n hasn’t responded yet though.”
The omega doesn’t even finish what he’s saying before Wonwoo is clicking your contact and calling you. The phone rings for what feels like an eternity. And then, he hears your voicemail greeting. Fuck, something is wrong. He can feel it.
Jeonghan feels Wonwoo���s uneasiness from his side. He reaches out and runs his hand through the alpha’s hair, murmuring something about how it’s only a few minutes until they get home and that they would figure it out together. Wonwoo isn’t sure he’s actually going to survive these next few minutes without imploding, though. 
After the longest 5 minutes of his life, Wonwoo yanks the van door open and races to the pack’s apartment. He’s slightly comforted by his pack omega’s presence hot on his heels. At least he knows he’s not a delusional, overbearing alpha for worrying like this. Jeonghan steps in front of him to unlock the front door and Wonwoo releases an audible whine. Your scent hits him like a truck and it smells like stress. You’re distressed and he’s not there to calm you down. What a horrible, terrible alpha his mind tells him.
He and Jeonghan step into the entrance, the rest of the pack finally catching up and throwing questioning shouts into the air. Wonwoo immediately goes to search for you when his mate throws his arm out to stop him. “She’s not here hyung.”
Wonwoo’s eyes practically bulge out of his skull. “What do you mean?”
The omega points to the shoe rack by the door. Your shoes are gone, and in their spot, sit your usual house slippers. Seungcheol’s, however, sit undisturbed. Jeonghan turns and heads straight for the pack alpha’s room, leaving Wonwoo to fend for himself when the pack immediately begins to question him. 
The alpha offers no response, sitting down at the kitchen table and sending a location request to your phone, hoping and praying you send something back. The others seem to take the hint and disperse until everything works out. He hears Jeonghan call out to him from Seungcheol’s room. “I don’t think he knows where y/n is at.”
Wonwoo sighs. “I just requested her location. I’m hoping that she has her phone on her and can respond. If not, I’m not sure what to do.”
Jeonghan responds. “Well she’s always on that damn phone, so hopefully she’ll send her location back soon enough.”
The scent of angry alpha lingering in the kitchen has Wonwoo freezing in his tracks as he catches a whiff. It’s not just angry alpha, it’s angry Seungcheol. Something definitely happened between you two. Knowing his stubborn pack alpha, some sort of argument. 
Wonwoo wanted to scream at Seungcheol. Let him hear every nasty word that comes to mind. But he couldn’t. Not when you were unaccounted for, and, based on the silence coming from his room, the alpha is already beating himself up over whatever happened.
The sound of a text notification rouses him from his thoughts. You had finally responded with your location. Wonwoo can’t help but slap himself on the forehead when he sees where you’re at. Of course you’re at the cafe that you first met him and Seungcheol at.
He’s quick to rush to the door, grabbing an extra coat as he knows you probably didn’t grab one for yourself. He forwards your location to Jeonghan and is taking the stairs two at a time down to the street level. 
The wind is bitterly cold, but at this point, Wonwoo doesn’t think he can really feel it. Though he does sigh in relief when he steps through the entrance of the cafe. Whether that be because of the warmth or because he’s spotted you near the back, at a table he remembers all too well. You’re lying your emotions out for him to see without even saying anything. 
He walks right up to you and hands you the coat (which he now mistakenly realizes is Seungcheol’s) without a word. You take it from him, putting it on regardless of the owner’s scent, and get up to leave. The silence is heavy as you walk back to the apartment. He’ll take your silence over your absence any day though.
Eventually, you slow down and give Wonwoo’s hand a squeeze to signal him to stop walking. He pulls you off to the side and out of the way of the other pedestrians. “What’s wrong?” he questions after a moment.
You look at him from between your lashes. His heart sinks a bit. “Why can’t I do the one thing my subgender was made to do?”
He’s taken aback. “What are you even talking about?”
You look away from him shamefully. “A beta is supposed to be the neutral party in a pack. Someone who can resolve problems or whatever. I feel like all I do is cause problems.”
This is odd coming from y/n “fuck subgender stereotypes” of the Choi pack, which is probably the most unconventional pack to walk this planet. You’re not one to care for comparing someone’s behavior to their designation. 
He sighs when he remembers that an argument between you and Seungcheol is most likely the reason this whole ordeal happened in the first place. “If Cheol made you feel like this I’m going to bash his skull in.”
Wonwoo could’ve caught the eye roll you gave him from a mile away. “That’s a great idea Woo. Murdering your pack alpha.”
Curse you for your defense mechanism being sarcasm. “I’m just saying. And the rest of the pack would probably back me up too.”
Another eye roll. He thinks your eyes are going to get permanently stuck if you keep that up. His sassy little beta, a small voice says in the back of his brain. Ok, his rut is definitely coming early if those are thoughts he’s getting while having a serious conversation.
While he’s trying to clear that thought from his head, you tug on his hand and starting leading him back to the apartment. You can feel his quizzical stare, so you turn around and say, “come on Woo, I’ve got a pack alpha to apologize to. Then maybe you won’t bash his skull in.”
It’s his turn to roll his eyes and groan. Yeah, you’re definitely the one causing problems like you claimed a minute ago. Damn, your sarcasm is really rubbing off on him. 
You turn around again and do a double take at the sweatshirt he has on. You look up with a practically shit eating grin. “Nice hoodie by the way.” He’s going to have to have a talk with you about planting his packmates' clothes in his bag. You’re probably doing it so he smells like pack. Little minx. Damn, he really needs to get laid because what is going on with these dirty thoughts.
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murderous-wolf-daddy · 3 months
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I love it when someone sneaks up on you because they think it'll be funny and act like you're a bitch for being startled and annoyed. Woah what a concept, some people react negatively to unpleasant, loud, and unexpected shit 🤯
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mothcpu · 1 year
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that's gotta sting
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pigeonwit · 3 months
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one must imagine davey jacobs gardening
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legzeppelin · 3 months
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anyway. this guy jackson was friends with and who lived in a trailer at the house jackson lives in died on monday. and at the same time jackson is supposed to be starting a new job this week. and one of his cats escaped (he came back last night). if you guys have been following the jackson saga you know that he has the emotional regulation of a traumatized 15 year old at best so you can imagine how disastrously it's going. and obviously it's understandable to fall apart when something like this happens but this is on another level
he has been wanting to talk to me/have my company but i basically cant say anything to him at all or offer him any help without upsetting or offending him. also he went to his second day on this new job after having not slept for 48 hours (and i begged him to just tell them what was going on and call in sick because his job involves operating machinery, driving, and working with other people) and basically it went really badly and he ended up crying in front of everyone and leaving and asked me to come pick him up because he couldn't drive. I found out that he did tell the manager ahead of time what was going on but didnt ask for time off. And jackson is blaming his manager for not sending him home/telling him to take time off. When he never told them he needed time off. He literally said "he should have figured it out. It's his job as a manager to make sure the employees are okay"
like you have got to be fucking kidding me dude. so i was trying to tell him last night that he HAS TO TEXT HIS MANAGER AND TELL HIM IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS THAT HE CANT COME IN TO WORK because thats how you communicate professionally but he wouldn't listen and i haven't talked to him today at all so i dont know what happened today. probably nothing good. dont care
but yeah basically he wont communicate with anyone, wont ask anyone for help, wont accept help, and is blaming everyone else for everything as usual
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a9saga · 1 year
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tbt - big bang - sober // two years ago this song brought me a lot of comfort after my grandmother died. this one was a long time coming.
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idontdrinkgatorade · 1 year
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whoopsies didn’t place. lmao
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doberbutts · 11 months
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Anyway I'll never forget that 22 hour bus ride to Alabama to help my friend get married and one of the legs of the journey I was on the bus with my (clearly labelled, well behaved) service dog at my side and people were throwing a huge stink about the fact that I had my dog and then this ancient dude in a wheelchair, double amputee both legs, pipes up and tells them to shut the fuck up and leave me alone because Creed was obviously trained and then once everyone quieted down and I was able to take a seat, asked me quietly if I was okay.
He also could have been a cartoon character because I could have sworn there were little winged hearts floating above his head as he told me he'd always liked dogs but of course now he's old and can't walk so he can't get one anymore but he could tell how much Creed loved me and I him etc etc
He never asked me once what my disability was. He spoke up for me when he didn't have to. A truly old white man in Georgia saw a young black person with a "dangerous dog" breed and spoke up in my defense.
If you want to claim to be a disability advocate, that means you kind of have to. Advocate for each other. For the next 4 or so hours, this man and I had each other's backs. Two disabled people on a Greyhound filled with ableist passengers who were not happy we couldn't exist somewhere they didn't havr to accomodate. It didn't matter what our pasts or our diagnoses were. We were stronger together, so that's what we stayed. Together.
Two people banded together and the rest of the bus shut their mouths. Imagine what we could do with more of us.
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unmotivatedartistry · 10 months
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So many IRL people are talking to me and I Do Not Like It
#anyways rant in tags as I like to do:#idk what happened to the self-isolation that summer break is supposed to be#I Very Dislike This#how do I disappear from the internet to my irl friends#uhh#I Don't Want To Talk To Them#And They All Wanna Talk To Me#I Dislike This A Lot#why are IRL friends so much more draining to talk to#especially this one dude. that i used to be in a relationship with#and i think they still love me#since they LOVE throwing hints all. the. time. (in the past they complained about me to my face but tried to say it was someone else while#listing thingd that I. SAID. AND. DID.)#and they sent a ss of them talking with someone else like “i love someone but they have a gf already”#and I told them I have a gf#and shit#and they keep trying to talk to me (ALL DAY EVERY DAY) and im overwhelmed because I cant even handle#talkign to people for more than an hour before disappearing from sight#And he forces me to talk to him All Day#have I been ignoring him the past two days? Absolutely#(btw love you all for enduring my tumblr rants. kisses/p to all of you I swear I'm making art for y'all)#(also I'm making a pinned post. if anyones interested)#(also have made so much lore for my TSPUD shit if anyone wants to hear me rant)#(my dumb lil shitty TSPUD au)#(which. if you havent guessed by the name of my TSPUD account. i'll be lovingly naming 'The Unmotivated Parable')#(even though it has nothing to do with unmotivation)#(it's just that my brand is unmotivated so)#(I have so much planned eueueu)#(I <3 my men)#(only the fictional ones. the irl men drain me)
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writingouthere · 4 months
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bestfriendsbrother!Sukuna x pregnant!reader one-shot
summary: you're excited to finally share with all your friends that your pregnant when the party is interrupted by your best friend's older brother, who you didn't invite, but who you did have unprotected sex with less than two months ago.
cw: reader is pregnant, Sukuna is a bad dude, possessive behavior, minor smut, still as usual nicer than it sounds because I can't help it.
**************
"I'm pregnant!"
Your news is met with a period of silence before your friends look at each other, uncertain as to how to react.
Nobara finally breaks the silence, an eyebrow raised. "And we feel...."
"We're happy about it," you say and your friends are then quick to congratulate you. You hear some sort of scuffling happening behind you and you turn around to see Yuuji unfolding a "We're having a Baby!" banner which makes Megumi nearly jump out of his chair.
"Holy shit, did you two-"
"No!"
"Ew, no!"
Yuuji frowns at you. "The 'ew' wasn't necessary."
You and Nobara scoff. "It was," you tell him. "And I say that with all my love."
"Okay, so if this idiot didn't knock you up-"
"Hey!"
"-then who did?"
You'd been expecting the question and had prepared for it. "It was just a one night stand, he's not really father material." Everyone looks like they want to ask more questions so you smile at them, genuinely happy they all look ready to commit a crime for you. "It's okay, I have a good job and this is something I've wanted for a long time. This baby will be really loved because it will have me and, I hope, all of you."
Your friends are quick to agree and there's some lighter questions about potential names, nurseries and Nobara and Todo are looking at her phone debating baby onesies, when the door to you and Yuuji's apartment opens and someone you had definitely not invited comes in.
"Sukuna! You're late, you missed the big news," Yuuji calls out as he walks over and claps his brother on the back. A few people call out greetings as Yuuji's older brother looks around the apartment. His eyes linger on you for a second, a smirk tugging up on his lip before he notices the sign hanging crooked over the kitchen doorway and he laughs without an ounce of humor.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me, you knocked someone up? You irresponsible piece of shit-"
"It's not his and don't kill him, you asshole," Megumi says from where he has now joined the onesies discussion and points over at you. "It's the other person who lives here."
Sukuna pauses from where he was about to murder his brother, to look back over at you. You wonder if his brain is doing the same cursed math that you had done when you were hyperventilating, holding a stick covered in your own pee, but before he could ask anything, Maki ended the silent stand off.
"And we're happy about it, so get happy you piece of shit."
With that, the party continues on, people breaking off until little groups and snacks being placed strategically throughout the apartment.
You're feeling thirsty, and a little exhausted from the burning stare that's been directed at you for the past hour when you excuse yourself from where Miwa and Mechamaru had been talking about their own future plans for children, who you're sure would be socially inept but gorgeous enough to make up for it, and made your way to the kitchen.
You were pulling out some water, no alcohol for you even though you really needed it, when you felt someone's presence behind you.
"So when were you going to tell me we were having a baby?"
"Never, because it's not yours," you answered firmly, slamming the door to the fridge for good measure. Sukuna leaned against the cabinet next to you but you'd known him long enough to see the pose for what it was. A ruse, a performance of casualness. The fingers on his hand tapped against his arm like he was playing the piano, one of the few tics he had that showed when he was feeling, well just feeling anything in general.
"Oh please, you're not fucking anyone else."
"You don't know that and we're not fucking, we fucked once. Singular, past tense."
He laughed and looked down at you, the same predatory look he'd had the night he'd helped you make this child.
"And once was all it took huh? Fucked you so good, you're going to have my baby," he says, voice mocking and he stands up to his full height which puts him over you. He takes the glass of water you're really regretting now, and places it on the counter opposite the two of you.
"It-it's not your baby," but you don't sound sure and he knows it and he presses up against you until your back is to the counter. Nowhere for you to run.
"It's mine, just like you're mine. I don't know who you think you're kidding with this denial of me but it's done now, sweetheart."
You go to answer him and Sukuna covers your mouth with his hand like the rude fuck he is and then leans down, his mouth next to your ear. You look around, worried someone might see you but the gap between the fridge and the counter conceals you both and the room next to you keeps getting louder and louder. The sun had set and there were maybe some lamps in the living room, but here in the kitchen it was dark.
"I let you have your space and your time, two months of it actually. I let you have your little moral crisis about fucking a criminal and it being the best dick you've ever had wah wah, but I was impatient before I knew you were having my baby, and now," he leans back so his eyes, and they're on fire his eyes, are level with yours. "I'm done waiting."
You tug on Sukuna's hand and he rolls his eyes before removing it from your mouth and places it on your hip which doesn't seem like a good trade-off but at least you can speak again.
"What does that even mean?" You ask him, your voice showing the incredulity you're feeling but if Sukuna had anything, it was audacity.
"I mean I'll give you a week to tell your friends you're having our baby and that we're getting married." He says it so seriously that you can't help but laugh which seems to be the wrong response when his other hand moves to your hip as well and squeezes, tight.
"We are not getting married, are you out of your mind?"
"Why not, we're already having a baby, are you going to deny me the ability to live with my own child."
"Still not your kid, and we can't get married Sukuna. We never even dated! We fucked one time, that doesn't mean we should just be together forever."
"We fucked for one night, it was more than one time-"
"Not the argument you think it is," you interrupt him but you still let him pick you up and place you on the counter. You sit there while he runs his hands up and down your thighs, the sounds of the party washing over the two of you as you stay in your little bubble.
"We'd be good together," he finally says. "Not just because I knocked you up on the first try." You hit him but he just smirks and moves his hands more purposefully on your legs. You let him pull them apart and step between them even though warning bells are going off in your head, telling you these are moves you'd seen before and they had led to you being in the predicament the two of you were debating in the first place.
"It's inevitable, the two of us. You can say you hate me, or that I'm not a good man, and that's true. But there's a reason why you've never stayed with any of those nice boys," he says and his hands slips up the skirt you're wearing to get at your bare thighs underneath. "Because you don't want a nice guy, you don't want a good man, you want me and I'm too selfish to let you keep torturing both of us by doing this pretending shit."
The fingers on his right hand press against your cunt through your panties while his other hand squeezes your thigh and he moans sinfully into the quiet air.
"God, I knew I didn't make up this warm, wet cunt. Been fucking my fist until I chafed the past two months just thinking about it."
You whimper as he moves your underwear aside and slips one finger up and down your slit, not touching your clit or going where you want him, but doing enough that you move against his hand.
"This does not mean that we should get married," you protest and he teases a finger against your opening, pulling it back when your hips tilt up in an attempt to get him where you want.
"Why not? I heard pregnant women get super horny, what are you going to do without me around to make sure this filthy pussy gets stuffed just the way she needs." He finally slips one finger in, his thumb moving to tease against your clit, just the way you like it and your head smacks back against the cabinet. He moves the hand that had been on your thigh up so he can cradle your head.
"I'm sure I could find someone willing to help me out," you say scoffing and his hand freezes which makes you whine a little and try to get him to move again but his legs limit your range of motion.
"You ever try to fuck someone else ever again and the coroner is going to have to get dental records to figure out who the dumb fuck with no fingers, no eyes and no cock is, you got it?"
He's not joking, you know he's not joking but it doesn't stop you from leaning forward until you finally get your lips on his. He hums into your kiss, cupping your cheek in his free hand while the other one goes back to opening you up. You're so wet that the kitchen fills with the sounds of his him finger fucking your cunt but you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He's not wrong that pregnancy has made you more sensitive, or maybe it's just you not having gotten laid since the two of you had slept together.
He's got three fingers in you when you come and he swallows your moans greedily with mouth while his fingers slow inside of you, curving just right to make you think you could probably come again soon, oversensitive or not.
Before you can test that out, he pulls away from you. He licks the fingers he pulled out of you clean and you you're reminded of how the last time he'd made you come twice just with his mouth.
"Where are you going?" you ask him, a little more breathless than you like.
"We are going home," he tells you, grabbing your hands and helping you down off the counter. Giving you a kiss on your forehead that you would tease him for if you were anyone else.
"Home?" you ask, confused because you are currently standing in your apartment unless his orgasms suddenly give one the power to teleport.
"Yeah, our home, not the shitty apartment you share with my brother. I mean we'll have to get somewhere bigger soon, for our baby."
For the first time since you found out you were pregnant, someone who was not you laid out their palm on your still just the same stomach. There was no change from how it always looked but Sukuna looked smug just the same and you felt like you were still missing a few things.
"What-"
"I mean I can fuck you here, I just thought your sensibilities and the fact your friends were all out there would make you uncomfortable."
Your post orgasm flush finally leaves you and you look up at him in panic. "Oh my god, do you think someone saw-"
"It's okay, Fushiguro kept them out I'm sure."
You don't want to know but ask anyway. "Why?"
"Because he walked in earlier and looked like he'd seen a ghost. Tell me, is the kid still a virgin? He's pretty but I can't imagine he has a lot of good options in your crowd."
When you leave to go to Sukuna's, the only people who don't look confused(or horrified in Yuuji's case) at your departure are Maki and Megumi.
If the confusion hadn't been cleared up by the time the baby came, the pink hair probably answered any follow up questions.
dealing with some writer's block and had this idea. didn't feel like writing a whole smut scene, my b but saving that energy for the next(?) neighborsukuna x singlemom one.
side note: Megumi is scarred for life, for sure. Yuuji gets over his horror once he's an uncle.
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backwzzds · 6 months
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ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren
eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.
thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.
your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.
eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”
you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”
eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”
don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.
but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you
“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.
eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”
it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.
you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.
after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”
with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.
in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?
when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.
with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.
eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”
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avis-writeshq · 1 month
Note
Hi! Can I request track one? :)
Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(
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pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: friends to lovers warnings: not proof read :( a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 700
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Spencer isn’t entirely sure why he’s so upset. He’s got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.
“Stare any harder and you’ll break the screen.”
You’re giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments you’re placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile. 
“You don’t–”
“Hush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?” You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, “They’re probably Morgan’s anyway, so don’t worry about it.”
Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk. 
“When’s the wedding?” Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencer’s already unkempt hair. 
“Wh– stop,” Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. “Keep your voice down.”
“Didn’t you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?” Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencer’s book. “You already bought them?”
“I won them,” he corrects, scowling. “Stop laughing!”
“Dude, you have to ask her out,” Derek tries again. “Kid, I’m serious. A girl like that isn’t going to wait around forever.”
Spencer’s annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friend’s gaze. “She shouldn’t have to.”
“Come on, don’t beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.”
His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. It’s far too early to be dealing with Spencer’s shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that ‘they’ll get together in their own time’. Hotch would spare him a stern look. 
They’re not in the room, though.
“Hey, pretty girl.”
Morgan’s call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencer’s face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. He’s frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.
“What’s up?” You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. “Did you need something?”
“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?” Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.
“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. “What are you playing at, Morgan?”
The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.”
Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, and– tomorrow night. That’s when the film festival is happening. 
“She doesn’t drink,” Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. “I was um– I’ve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. It’s in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You don’t– you don’t have to go. I know it might not be your thing–”
“I’d love to go, Spence.” You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. “A whole evening with you? Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.”
Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you aren’t looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud. 
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reblogs are always appreciated !
events page
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mrfoox · 1 year
Text
Ok new theory as to why I seem to have liked and trusted Oliver since the beginning: he's an fellow chameleon and I could just feel it and relate at once
#miranda talking shit#Before he even told me straight out that he is good at faking and acting i knew it and that could be why i felt it was easier to be...#Myself around him. I usually develop or use some sort of persona every time i get to know a new person. But with him i...didnt really#And I felt he did the same. Bc then i heard him talking on the phone or meeting other people and his demeanor completely changed and yeah#We are technically kinda unlike each other but i think this thing we can have a whole different level of understanding on. Ive never met#Someone i felt was similar to me in this regard. Until him and i have wondered why i felt so comfortable with him so fast. Bc he isnt overy#Nice and caring which usually get me to get comfortable and he wasnt super joking and fun that is my other type to get my guard down#He was just ... A dude. He felt genuine and not like he was trying to be in a specific way for me and so i think i... Felt that too?#Like ive had many friends through the years and still have but ... I think all of them to some point i have some persona out#Usually its the 'i have to be funny and make them laugh' version of myself. I think that is a version of myself and is still me but its not#THE ME. Bc it tires me to do and i can usually just do it for a day. 6-10 hours then im dead tired. I have many sides but i usually#Involuntary amplify some parts of my personality to appease people. I dont actively do it. Its something i can recall doing since i#Started school. And before i knew it i did it without realizing like a reflex. It can be why majority of people tire me to be around#Bc i end up acting even if i dont realize...? Even friends ive had for 5+ years i end up doing it with. Like Fabian i do less of it#Way less than in the past but thats bc we have been talking so intensely the last two years. So that act of me have dropped a lot. But i#Still feel worried im not entertaining enough or nice enough or something enough when talking with him sometimes and have to ask him and he#Like 'no silence is fine. I like it' but yeah. Oliver i... Dont feel i act... If i do its not enough i can tell on my own. Bc i dont act#'whacky/funny' and not overly nice i just... Vibe. I do still laugh and smile but usually i can just sit and nod along and i dont think#About how i am? Its honestly crazy. Now i came up with this idea as yo why bc ive never been able to before ive not been able to say why i#Felt so at ease with him. But now im like... Is this it? Bc i know hes a pretender so i just never felt the need to with him? I wonder why#He have been pretty open since the beginning but after we passed the 6 month mark it was a shift i felt at least#Now i feel like he tells me almost everything and its kinda crazy. Considering i know he have major trust issues especially with women#He just... Talk and i listen and i guess he isnt used to it and yeah. I like it a lot. When he admitted im basically the only one he doesnt#Use an persona on or act with... And i asked why and he just said well... I dont feel like i need to. That shit hit me bc i feel the same#Feel like i could say anything or share anything and he'd not... Care. Not in a bad way. But in the way it wont change how he sees me.#Many people are unfortunately in the category they do end up adjusting themselves too much when they learn something. Why i dont like sayin#Im autistic bc even if they say they are fine with it its like they see me differently anyway. So i dont share such unless its been years#Or they already know before we get to know each other. But fuck man oliver is special to me and this is my first ever theory i came up with#Never been close to someone else i can feel is an performer in the similar way i am...
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dragonsholygrail · 3 months
Text
Beyond Desperation
Halsin Silverbough x Reader
a/n: Halsin and Astarion, my two main mans. I couldn’t not write something for Halsin. Some of the description may have gotten a little size kinky but dude is huge so it makes sense to me.
summary: After a particularly adrenaline endorsing fight ensues, Halsin needs desperately to feel close to you. His first course of action is to connect his body and soul with yours, replacing the aches of the fight with the aches of strenuous activities. Leading him to go a little bit overboard and apologize through vigorous after-care.
warning: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, biting, marking, body worship, light subspace, phenomenal after-care.
word count: 2.7k
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It was due to a planned attack that started all of this. You had been there of course, fighting by his side. He had been particularly looking forward to it all day, his energy levels high despite his calm demeanor. You could tell having learned to read his body language and all the other things he never needed to speak aloud. Halsin was itching to help and frankly, so were you. Both of you aiming to look out for the natural order of things.
But then something happened that you probably both should’ve expected. In his excitement, Halsin had gone a bit too wild for a first turn of attack. After that, it wasn’t much longer until the entire fight was over and you all had clearly won. The other guys, while having gotten a few good hits in, couldn’t last long compared to Halsin’s stamina.
Afterwards, he went right to you, still overwhelmingly pent up from the very underwhelming experience of a fight. Checking to make sure you weren’t seriously injured. His heading straight for you was growing to be somewhat of a common occurrence. You tried not to look into it or think too deeply about it. You knew the way in which he cared for others. But that didn’t stop your heart from warming that he came right for you when becoming aware of his need. That he trusted you to be able to take care of him.
Though right now you were starting to feel a strange kindred bond that your opponents had with him. That's to say you were beginning to fear you too didn’t have the stamina to match up with Halsin. Your nails dig into Halsin’s stomach, bringing out a low growl from him as he helps you ride him into another orgasm for you both.
Like clockwork a hoarse scream is ripped from your throat as Halsin brings you to another one of your countless rippling climaxes. Your orgasm coats his cock just as your walls spasm around him and he groans, his eyes clouded over in a lust-filled daze. The only thing on his mind is bringing you to your peak once again, desperate to feel the way you clench around him as he empties himself inside of you. Desperate to see and feel your body as he gives you pleasure. Even as a puddle of your combined release soaks into the bedroom sheets of the local inn.
Your body convulses as sharp prickles erupt over your body from his deep thrusts and the beginnings of overstimulation. A whimper moves past your lips as you sag against Halsin’s broad warm chest, exhaustion falling over you after hours of euphoric bliss.
“You’ve done so well for me, dove. I knew you would,” Halsin’s low gravelly voice whispers along the shell of your ear as he leans down to your height. Your body twitches as he continues rocking into you though you can tell he’s restraining himself. Holding back from taking you again so soon after such an intense orgasm. You whine, burying your face in his neck as your hands trail up his overheated skin till they wrap into his hair. Both of you feeling needy for touch right now. For closeness and connection. “Sh, sh, sh. I’ve got you.”
“More Halsin, please,” you croak out, lips brushing along his raging pulse. Your hips start to move with his and your jaw drops, feeling the burn as his thick girth continues to stretch and split you open. But Halsin’s hands are right there on your ass, pushing himself inside you. Your body warps into him, a long mewl leaving you. But just as you think it’s about to get so good again, Halsin’s hands tighten, keeping himself firmly planted in your walls.
“Relax, it’s alright. Take your time. I know you got one more in you and I’m not going anywhere,” Halsin’s voice is a low rumble that vibrates against your skin as he peppers kisses along your shoulder. Your body still shakes but you’re itching to move, to keep him stuffing you full of his cum till he forces it out with another healthy dose of it. You truly don’t know where your minds gone when you reach this place with him. The crown of his cock rests sweetly against your cervix and it only serves to drive you deeper into insanity.
“Don’t- don’t make me wait. I can’t and I know you can’t either. I know you need it and I can do this for you. I want to do this for you,” you beg earnestly as a light fog grows heavier in your mind and your arousal for him heightens. You know this’ll give Halsin peace of mind, you know it’ll calm him after the fight you all went through. You want nothing more than to give that to him. So you whisper the one thing you hope will push him over the edge. “Just let go.”
Halsin is frozen, keeping you frozen along with him. His forehead now resting heavily on your shoulder, his nose brushing along your collarbone as he inhales heavy amounts of your scent. Then with a final squeeze to your ass, he lifts you up his cock, only leaving in the tip before his hips snap harshly back up into you. You cry out, cunt fluttering around his cock to which it responds with a twitch. Your bodies having been molded and in sync to each others.
Your hands caress his ears in order to intensify his pleasure. You feel the rumble in his chest and you press closer to him. Using his hold on your bottom, Halsin moves you up and down on his dick with ease, starting you both at a hurried pace. Your jaw drops, teeth nicking the skin of his neck.
“You’re ok,” Halsin breathes out, his voice low. You can hear the way he inhales and exhales roughly, tiny grunts leaving him with every wet smack of your hips meeting. You can only respond with broken whines, eyes fluttering as you lean all your weight on his imposing yet comforting figure. Halsin is more than prepared to carry you through this as he fucks into you.
His hands grip your body tightly as he fights for control, not wanting to be more rough than you can handle. His nails lightly dig into your skin, breaking skin in a way that has you moaning as pricks of pain join in with the vast amounts of pleasure. You know it’s sure to leave a mark or two but you can’t help but want more. Something that won’t fade away in a day or two.
You writhe against Halsin’s body, wanting his cock to touch every depth inside you as he maintains his frenzied pace. Lifting his head from your shoulder, he maneuvers around in order to more easily trail his soft lips over your heated body. He follows a pathway down your neck, tongue teasing your shoulder. His back arches so he can continue on along your chest. You gasp as his teeth bite at you softly, making your body buzz and quiver. His lips seem unable to leave your skin. You note the way his body shakes, his breath mixing with his groans and coming out in short pants.
You moan as his nails sink in a little further. Head thrown back you bask in every sensation you’re greeted with. It’s only when Halsin’s lips pause just above your collarbone do some of your senses come back to you. Though it remains difficult as you feel as though your body is floating in an air of bliss.
“W-what?” You try to ask through your haze, but talking proves to be difficult as every single thrust is punching the air out of your lungs. You barely even register it as Halsin’s teeth sink deep into your flesh. You’re so consumed by pleasure the puncture feels like faint tingles that only increase your ecstasy. You cry out more from surprise than anything. Your hands hold onto his hair tightly as you keep him right there inside you. Now in every way.
Halsin, so caught up in the way your tight cunt sucks him in with every thrust, the warm wetness encompassing him, and your beautiful body welcoming everything he is, he couldn’t stop the overflowing emotions whirling around in his mind. Before he knew it his teeth were out and burying themselves in deep. He was going to take them out immediately— he was going to apologize. But then he felt you tug him closer.
So instead he finds his mind completely spinning. Every time he starts to lift you up his cock, his hips snap back up into you as if desperate to stay. You whimper, back arching unnaturally as you’re unable to escape a second of pleasure, not getting a moment of reprieve. His brutal pace is relentless as he jackhammers his way inside you. You squirm but it only has him pressing harder into your G-spot, causing a sharp choking noise to leave you from the shock.
Your body tenses as you can’t escape the intense sensations inflicted upon you. You try to open your mouth and express it but all that leaves is a long moan that only has Halsin start sucking at the skin around his mark, his teeth still embedded in you. Your stomach clenches painfully as your orgasm reaches higher and higher. Goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire as you feel yourself burning from the inside out. That burning heat coming from the way his girth fills you, consumes you.
Halsin, having become attuned with your body, senses that you’re on the precipice of something magnificent. He doesn’t hesitate to slam your body back down on his dick and grind your clit roughly on the hair of his happy trail. You choke, your body jerking with violent force as the cord at the bottom of your belly snaps. A ringing echos in your ears and you can faintly hear your screaming beyond that as your climax crashes into you in waves, one right after the other as he doesn’t stop the stimulation on your clit.
A few moments later his teeth slip out of you as he goans from your clenching down on him. A few quick jerks of his hips and he’s emptying another load into your walls. You feel his cum flood through you, adding to the mix of busy sensations you’re experiencing. Yet this one has to be your favorite. Your body convulses uncontrollably and you feel a faint spark of worry as black spots suddenly surround your vision. You quickly call out Halsin’s name before you fall into darkness, your body going limp in his hold.
When you wake, you’re laying on the bed flat on your back. You wonder what woke you up and why you were asleep in the first place when a shocking texture brushes between your folds. You hiss, body jerking back. You look down just as Halsin’s head snaps up to look at you. Seeing a wet cloth in his hand and the tortured look in his eye has your memories flooding back to the front of your mind in an instant.
His gaze only lasts a moment before moving back down between your thighs. You see as that tortured look increases as his face twists. With a featherlight touch he cleans you up, being careful with the wet cloth as he wipes everything away. Your body aches but his soothing touch is enough to make you instantly relax back into the bed.
“Oh, Halsin,” you sigh, voice hoarse from your screams, watching as he avoids your gaze. Your limbs feel as though they weigh a million pounds, so all you can do is lay and watch as Halsin internally tortures himself over what just happened. Your heart flutters as he bends down, pressing soft apologetic kisses across your hips.
“Sweetheart, I am so sorry,” Halsin mumbles after a few long moments of silence. He grimaces, shaking his head as his eyes once again catch onto the forming bruises around your hips he’d just kissed. Looking away for a moment he puts some green paste he most likely made on his hands. He then leans forward, hands sliding over your bum and to the small puncture wounds from his nails. He makes sure to rub it in carefully to each mark. You wait until he’s finished and sitting back next to your legs.
“Halsin c’mere,” you call gently, loving the evident care shown from him while also needing you both need more. The air surrounding you is cold and empty as the fog is all but disappeared from your mind and you once again feel everything fully. You see Halsin hesitate, doing a double take to meet your gaze. Emotion rises in your chest and your voice cracks as you ask again. “Please, come here.”
His face twists in pain at the small break in your call. He doesn’t waste another moment before crawling up the length of his bed. Laying by your side he remains close while keeping a few inches of space between you. His eyes frantically move up and down your naked body, checking you over for what was probably the millionth time.
“How’re you feeling? Do you hurt? Did I hurt you?” He asks quietly, one question firing off as soon as he finishes asking the first. Finding your strength, you sluggishly lift an arm and cup his cheeks in order to bring his focus to your face. His cheek falls into your palm, soaking up your touch. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” you say in an attempt to calm his guilty heart. But Halsin immediately scoffs, not buying that for a second. In the moment, it had briefly scared you. But you were ok. Now, more than anything, you wanted to laugh about how he’d made you feel so good your body gave out. Though you could see he wasn’t in the joking mood right now.
“You cannot say such things, sweetheart, look at you,” Halsin says, motioning a hand along your stiff body, eyes following it. That same hand carefully lands around your waist. He rubs his thumb in calming circles, bringing a warmth to spread through you. Guilt continues to radiate off of him and it hurts your heart to see. He closes his eyes, angling his head to kiss along your wrist and down your arm. “I lost control— that is far from ok,”
“I wanted to go again. I don’t regret it, even now,” you admit, thumb caressing his cheek. Both of you subconsciously working to soothe the other. Halsin’s eyes open and meet yours. You can see his emotions going haywire through the depth of his eyes. He feels so much and carries so much on his back. He’s incredibly strong but you want him to know he doesn’t have to carry it alone.
“I was reckless. It was my responsibility to take care of you, make sure I wasn’t too rough. Now look at you,” he murmurs against your skin as he continues his soft kisses. With your hand now free of his face, you wrap it back into his hair. Such a simple touch from him has your heart beating out of your chest.
“Look at me. You’re taking care of me perfectly,” you express, letting your emotion shine through to him. His soft eyes flicker up to look at you as his lips reach your shoulder. They now look the tiniest bit more forgiving than they did a moment ago. Without moving even an inch away, his arms slip around your body. He curls you into himself, fully encapsulating you within his form. You hum contently, curling your arms between your bodies and brushing along his smooth skin.
“And I won’t stop. Is there anything you need?” His face now right in front of yours and his body surrounding you completely, you feel a million times better. Comfort and safety solidify themselves within you. Your eyes look between his as you can see his full attention on you and anything you may need of him. Right now the idea of needing more seems impossible as you have everything you could ask for right here.
“Just this.”
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Text
I assure you, an AI didn’t write a terrible “George Carlin” routine
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There are only TWO MORE DAYS left in the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.
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On Hallowe'en 1974, Ronald Clark O'Bryan murdered his son with poisoned candy. He needed the insurance money, and he knew that Halloween poisonings were rampant, so he figured he'd get away with it. He was wrong:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ronald_Clark_O%27Bryan
The stories of Hallowe'en poisonings were just that – stories. No one was poisoning kids on Hallowe'en – except this monstrous murderer, who mistook rampant scare stories for truth and assumed (incorrectly) that his murder would blend in with the crowd.
Last week, the dudes behind the "comedy" podcast Dudesy released a "George Carlin" comedy special that they claimed had been created, holus bolus, by an AI trained on the comedian's routines. This was a lie. After the Carlin estate sued, the dudes admitted that they had written the (remarkably unfunny) "comedy" special:
https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/01/george-carlins-heirs-sue-comedy-podcast-over-ai-generated-impression/
As I've written, we're nowhere near the point where an AI can do your job, but we're well past the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week
AI systems can do some remarkable party tricks, but there's a huge difference between producing a plausible sentence and a good one. After the initial rush of astonishment, the stench of botshit becomes unmistakable:
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy
Some of this botshit comes from people who are sold a bill of goods: they're convinced that they can make a George Carlin special without any human intervention and when the bot fails, they manufacture their own botshit, assuming they must be bad at prompting the AI.
This is an old technology story: I had a friend who was contracted to livestream a Canadian awards show in the earliest days of the web. They booked in multiple ISDN lines from Bell Canada and set up an impressive Mbone encoding station on the wings of the stage. Only one problem: the ISDNs flaked (this was a common problem with ISDNs!). There was no way to livecast the show.
Nevertheless, my friend's boss's ordered him to go on pretending to livestream the show. They made a big deal of it, with all kinds of cool visualizers showing the progress of this futuristic marvel, which the cameras frequently lingered on, accompanied by overheated narration from the show's hosts.
The weirdest part? The next day, my friend – and many others – heard from satisfied viewers who boasted about how amazing it had been to watch this show on their computers, rather than their TVs. Remember: there had been no stream. These people had just assumed that the problem was on their end – that they had failed to correctly install and configure the multiple browser plugins required. Not wanting to admit their technical incompetence, they instead boasted about how great the show had been. It was the Emperor's New Livestream.
Perhaps that's what happened to the Dudesy bros. But there's another possibility: maybe they were captured by their own imaginations. In "Genesis," an essay in the 2007 collection The Creationists, EL Doctorow (no relation) describes how the ancient Babylonians were so poleaxed by the strange wonder of the story they made up about the origin of the universe that they assumed that it must be true. They themselves weren't nearly imaginative enough to have come up with this super-cool tale, so God must have put it in their minds:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/29/gedankenexperimentwahn/#high-on-your-own-supply
That seems to have been what happened to the Air Force colonel who falsely claimed that a "rogue AI-powered drone" had spontaneously evolved the strategy of killing its operator as a way of clearing the obstacle to its main objective, which was killing the enemy:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/04/ayyyyyy-eyeeeee/
This never happened. It was – in the chagrined colonel's words – a "thought experiment." In other words, this guy – who is the USAF's Chief of AI Test and Operations – was so excited about his own made up story that he forgot it wasn't true and told a whole conference-room full of people that it had actually happened.
Maybe that's what happened with the George Carlinbot 3000: the Dudesy dudes fell in love with their own vision for a fully automated luxury Carlinbot and forgot that they had made it up, so they just cheated, assuming they would eventually be able to make a fully operational Battle Carlinbot.
That's basically the Theranos story: a teenaged "entrepreneur" was convinced that she was just about to produce a seemingly impossible, revolutionary diagnostic machine, so she faked its results, abetted by investors, customers and others who wanted to believe:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Theranos
The thing about stories of AI miracles is that they are peddled by both AI's boosters and its critics. For boosters, the value of these tall tales is obvious: if normies can be convinced that AI is capable of performing miracles, they'll invest in it. They'll even integrate it into their product offerings and then quietly hire legions of humans to pick up the botshit it leaves behind. These abettors can be relied upon to keep the defects in these products a secret, because they'll assume that they've committed an operator error. After all, everyone knows that AI can do anything, so if it's not performing for them, the problem must exist between the keyboard and the chair.
But this would only take AI so far. It's one thing to hear implausible stories of AI's triumph from the people invested in it – but what about when AI's critics repeat those stories? If your boss thinks an AI can do your job, and AI critics are all running around with their hair on fire, shouting about the coming AI jobpocalypse, then maybe the AI really can do your job?
https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/
There's a name for this kind of criticism: "criti-hype," coined by Lee Vinsel, who points to many reasons for its persistence, including the fact that it constitutes an "academic business-model":
https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5
That's four reasons for AI hype:
to win investors and customers;
to cover customers' and users' embarrassment when the AI doesn't perform;
AI dreamers so high on their own supply that they can't tell truth from fantasy;
A business-model for doomsayers who form an unholy alliance with AI companies by parroting their silliest hype in warning form.
But there's a fifth motivation for criti-hype: to simplify otherwise tedious and complex situations. As Jamie Zawinski writes, this is the motivation behind the obvious lie that the "autonomous cars" on the streets of San Francisco have no driver:
https://www.jwz.org/blog/2024/01/driverless-cars-always-have-a-driver/
GM's Cruise division was forced to shutter its SF operations after one of its "self-driving" cars dragged an injured pedestrian for 20 feet:
https://www.wired.com/story/cruise-robotaxi-self-driving-permit-revoked-california/
One of the widely discussed revelations in the wake of the incident was that Cruise employed 1.5 skilled technical remote overseers for every one of its "self-driving" cars. In other words, they had replaced a single low-waged cab driver with 1.5 higher-paid remote operators.
As Zawinski writes, SFPD is well aware that there's a human being (or more than one human being) responsible for every one of these cars – someone who is formally at fault when the cars injure people or damage property. Nevertheless, SFPD and SFMTA maintain that these cars can't be cited for moving violations because "no one is driving them."
But figuring out who which person is responsible for a moving violation is "complicated and annoying to deal with," so the fiction persists.
(Zawinski notes that even when these people are held responsible, they're a "moral crumple zone" for the company that decided to enroll whole cities in nonconsensual murderbot experiments.)
Automation hype has always involved hidden humans. The most famous of these was the "mechanical Turk" hoax: a supposed chess-playing robot that was just a puppet operated by a concealed human operator wedged awkwardly into its carapace.
This pattern repeats itself through the ages. Thomas Jefferson "replaced his slaves" with dumbwaiters – but of course, dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, they hide slaves:
https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/
The modern Mechanical Turk – a division of Amazon that employs low-waged "clickworkers," many of them overseas – modernizes the dumbwaiter by hiding low-waged workforces behind a veneer of automation. The MTurk is an abstract "cloud" of human intelligence (the tasks MTurks perform are called "HITs," which stands for "Human Intelligence Tasks").
This is such a truism that techies in India joke that "AI" stands for "absent Indians." Or, to use Jathan Sadowski's wonderful term: "Potemkin AI":
https://reallifemag.com/potemkin-ai/
This Potemkin AI is everywhere you look. When Tesla unveiled its humanoid robot Optimus, they made a big flashy show of it, promising a $20,000 automaton was just on the horizon. They failed to mention that Optimus was just a person in a robot suit:
https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai
Likewise with the famous demo of a "full self-driving" Tesla, which turned out to be a canned fake:
https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/
The most shocking and terrifying and enraging AI demos keep turning out to be "Just A Guy" (in Molly White's excellent parlance):
https://twitter.com/molly0xFFF/status/1751670561606971895
And yet, we keep falling for it. It's no wonder, really: criti-hype rewards so many different people in so many different ways that it truly offers something for everyone.
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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/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain
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sunnymarigolds · 2 years
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i wish someone would just. realize that i feel like something is wrong with me lately. liek guys i’m not being normal compared to my usual self. please notice
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