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hyperblue · 3 months

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as much as i enjoy the thought of kon immediately taking on fatherhood and confessing his feelings to tim in timkon clone baby aus, i can't help but think about all the potential for a slowburn that we can have, such as:

— making a deep dive into kon's view of the situation, exploring his clone feeling about himself, exploring his feelings about clark in particular — because their relationship is very interesting and complicated on it's own, and the biggest tragedy of it, in my opinion, is that kon was never clark's responsibility, in fact there was never a single adult person that had to take care of kon because kon initially never belonged to anyone. he's no one's child, no one's son, and us much as we might want to blame clark or, you know, any adult in his life for not taking care of him and protecting him, they had their right not to do it. someone should have had care, but also no one was obligated to. i really hope i make sense, what I'm trying to convey is that you really can't blame anyone for kon being unsupervised for most of his life no matter how much you might want too (aside from lex luther and cadmus itself ofc, but that would be a slightly different conversion); and kon knows that himself, has known that for a while, but the moment he's confronted by his own clone child it adds so much more perspective, and the conflict of once (still) being a child that no one wanted while simultaneously being introduced to a child that you don't have to want but if not you no one else will (tim will, but tim's also a slightly different conversation) would be so interesting and delicious;

— LOTS of awkward co-parenting from two teen-dads who might or might not be head over heels for each other but also not really having time to explore their relationship and their feelings bc they have a whole ass child to raise; not to mention kon's conflicted clone boy feelings and tim's haunting guilt that affect every single interaction of theirs. just imagine the pressure, the slowburn, the ust. imagine them knowing about each other feelings, but also knowing that it's not the right time — there might never be the right time anymore, not after what tim has done. imagine them negotiating visiting hours and weekends like they're some divorced couple. imagine them swinging their child between them on a walk home, imagine kon showing up early at tim's penthouse with fresh ingredients from the farm to make healthy breakfast, imagine tim dosing off on kon's shoulder while watching old disney movies with their kid right there on the carpet in front of a tv; playing house, but knowing damn well that they are not together. that they might never be together;

— clone baby getting used to this strange family dynamic that they have — knowing that kon is their other dad, but never ever calling him that (they have no memory of calling him pa! when they were much younger, no memory of kon crying and kissing their forehead right after; no memory of tim becoming really pale and then gently teaching them that kon is not pa, or papa, or dad, he is just kon, only even just kon); knowing that daddy loves kon, but for some reason that's something that they never talk about, and the kid is too afraid to ask because he knows that he'll hurt his dad if he does. fighting with tim and then crying because they want their other dad, but tim tells not to bother kon, as if kon might secretly hate them, and then hearing tim and kon having a fight from upstairs, stop acting like I'm going to flee any second, it's been literal years, when are you going to believe me when i say that i LOVE our child;

— tim trying his best to be a good parent and co-parent but still screwing up anyways because he's too trapped in his own guilt and insecurities; accidentally hurting both kon and their child by not wanting to hurt them, trying to distance them from each other when things are starting to get good, because they are not supposed to be good, tim does not deserve things to be good. shying away from kon's most innocent touches, refusing his child traditional summer vacation on kent's farm because he can feel his baby starting to prefer kon over him, and that's something that he doesn't know what to do with, all he knows is that he can't lose his baby not even to the love of his life. fighting with kon a lot, going they are MINE, stop pretending that you want them or care for them just to take them away from me, they are the only thing in the world that i love more than you;

— and then finally sorting things out after years, confessing their feelings, talking about every single insecurity that they both had about this situation; holding hands across kitchen table after crying their eyes out, and deciding to try it. restoring the friendship they almost lost somewhere along the way while trying to be a good parents for their baby — exchanging text that are not just visiting hours negotiations, awkwardly flirting like they are teenagers again, brushing each other shoulders and hands and sitting a little too close on a couch; getting to go on dates, getting to feel giddy and young about each other again, falling in bed together and getting to wake up from a sound of their kid destroying the kitchen, our child is hungry by the way, we should probably start getting out of bed. our child? yeah. our child.

idk man i just love the potential and complexity of it all. so many things to do with au, it really is an endless sandbox to play in

#timkon clone baby #timkon clone baby au #timkon #tim drake #red robin #kon el #conner kent #superboy #dc #dc comics

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zapreportsblog · 1 year

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❝corny lines wins the girl❞

✭ pairing : rory keaner x reader

✭ fandom : my babysitters a vampire

✭ summary : sure rory’s looks changed since becoming a vampire, he’s got a bit more muscular and he grew a few inches but he was still the same the old geeky rory, a bad flirt with even worse pick up lines, turns out some people are into that kinda thing.

✭ authors note : i definitely had a crush on this boy back when I watched disney

Rory Keaner had always been the quintessential nerd. With his mop of unruly brown hair, glasses that constantly slid down his nose, and an obsession with all things sci-fi and fantasy, he was a familiar face at Whitechapel High School. But there was something different about him now, something that caught the attention of his best friends, Ethan and Benny.

Since being turned into a vampire, Rory had undergone some changes. He'd grown a few inches taller, and his once lanky frame had filled out with a hint of muscle. He still wore his nerdy graphic tees and carried around his trusty backpack filled with books, but there was an air of confidence about him that hadn't been there before. Vampirism had its perks, it seemed.

One sunny morning, as Rory, Ethan, and Benny made their way through the crowded school halls, a hush fell over the students. Heads turned, and whispers of excitement rippled through the crowd. Rory followed their gazes and froze in his tracks.

There, standing near the lockers, was a girl he had never seen before. Her name was (Y/N), and she was a vision of beauty. Long, flowing hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that seemed like it belonged in a fashion magazine. Her eyes sparkled with an indescribable allure, and her smile could have lit up the darkest of nights.

Rory's heart skipped a beat as he watched her. He couldn't tear his eyes away. She was the kind of girl who seemed to belong to a different world, a world far removed from the one he inhabited. But that didn't stop him from hoping.

Ethan and Benny exchanged knowing glances, and Benny couldn't help but tease his friend. "Rory, buddy, I hate to break it to you, but she's way out of your league."

Ethan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, man, she's like a movie star or something. What chance do you think you have?"

Rory couldn't help but smile, a newfound determination in his eyes. "You'll never get anywhere in life if you don't try," he said with a shrug. "Besides, you never know until you take a chance."

With that, he walked over towards (Y/N), determined to introduce himself and see where this unexpected encounter might lead.

Rory took a deep breath and leaned casually against the locker next to (Y/N)'s. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this, but there was a newfound confidence coursing through his veins. Clearing his throat nervously, he turned to her and flashed a somewhat awkward smile.

"Hey there," he began, trying to sound smooth but failing slightly. "I'm Rory. Rory Keaner."

(Y/N) looked at him, her lips curling into a faint smile as she glanced up from her book. "Nice to meet you, Rory. I'm (Y/N)."

Rory's heart raced, but he pressed on, determined not to back down now. He took a deep breath and delivered a classic, albeit corny, pickup line, "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

(Y/N) chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "No," she replied with a playful smirk. "But I did cut up my hands and knees a bit crawling up from hell."

Rory grinned, relieved that she was playing along. "Well," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "that must be why my heart's on fire for you."

(Y/N) burst into laughter, her melodious giggles filling the hallway. It was a response Rory hadn't expected, but it was music to his ears. He couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at her reaction.

"You certainly have a way with words, Rory," (Y/N) said, still laughing. "I have to admit, that was a good comeback."

Rory blushed, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with his vampire abilities. "Thanks," he stammered, trying to regain his composure. "So, do you come here often? I mean, to this locker, I mean...not that I'm stalking you or anything!"

(Y/N) laughed again, this time more gently. "No worries, Rory. I just moved here, so this is my first day. I guess we're locker neighbors now."

Rory's heart soared. He couldn't believe his luck. "Well, in that case, welcome to Whitechapel High, (Y/N). If you ever need help finding your way around or just someone to talk to, I'm your guy."

(Y/N) smiled warmly at him, and for a brief moment, the bustling school hallway faded away, leaving just the two of them. It was the start of something new, and Rory couldn't wait to see where this unexpected encounter would lead.

Rory's world seemed to revolve around (Y/N) from the moment they met. Fate, or perhaps a dash of daring, had brought them together, and he couldn't have been happier. In the days that followed their first encounter, Rory found himself sitting next to (Y/N) in most of their classes. He was determined to make her smile, even if it meant bombarding her with corny pickup lines.

In their English class, he leaned over and whispered, "Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you're Cu-Te."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. "Well, you must be a vampire because that line was pretty dead," she replied, her tone teasing.

Rory couldn't help but chuckle at her clever response. He wasn't used to someone who could match his wit. Meanwhile, Ethan or Benny, who happened to be in the same class, watched the exchange in disbelief. They couldn't understand how their nerdy friend had become so bold and charming.

During chemistry, Rory leaned closer and said, "If you were a compound, you'd be sodium chloride because you're salty but essential."

(Y/N) laughed softly, shaking her head. "Nice try, but I think I'd be more like helium. Rare, mysterious, and you can never really hold onto it."

Ethan or Benny, depending on the class, nudged Rory and whispered, "Dude, I can't believe you're doing this. And she's actually enjoying it!"

Rory gave a proud, albeit somewhat smug, grin as he continued his pursuit. In history class, he leaned over again and asked, "Do you believe in time travel? Because every time I look at you, time seems to stand still."

(Y/N) let out a small giggle. "Well, good sir, you may have just created a time paradox."

As the school days passed, the playful banter between Rory and (Y/N) continued. It was a unique connection that neither of them had expected. Rory found himself looking forward to each class they shared, eager to see what clever retort Y/N would come up with next.

Ethan and Benny remained astonished by the transformation of their friend, unable to believe how he had captured the attention and humor of such an enchanting girl. It was as if Rory had found his own magical potion, and it came in the form of witty pickup lines and a girl who appreciated them.

#x reader #x reader one shot #x reader oneshot #rory keaner #rory keaner x reader #rory keaner x you #rory keaner x y/n #rory keaner imagine #rory keaner imagines #my babysitters a vampire x reader #my babysitter's a vampire #my babysitters a vampire #my babysitters a vampire x you #my babysitters a vampire x y/n #my babysitters a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire imagines

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robloart · 14 days

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Wade would bully Peter bc someone said he would and wrote it happening and bc y'all are so boring and annoying. Fanfiction isn't about what's canon or strictly in character thats why they're called transformative works. I think y'alls weird obsession with what's cannon while also trying to heavily police what and how ppl make fiction is honestly been the death of fandom and creativity.

There hasn't been a large scale cross over in fandom in years that either wasn't completely ironic or torn down by bullies that it fizzled out bc y'all don't know how to have fun. Even that recent debate over how sans would react to his brother death is further proof of y'all's lack of understanding of interpretation and fan works. Fanwork are supposed to exist in the reality of the fiction of the person who wrote it. NOT what IS the right interpretation bc there are NO right interpretation except for what is made canon which can be anything bc WE aren't the creators.

Who cares what happens in the comics. The comic themselves don't care what happens in other comic runs unless it's specifically meant to be a spin off/continuation.

Wade is SUPPOSED to be a morally ambiguous character. I know y'all have washed him of all the ambiguity bc ppl have told you that how ur supposed to approach fiction and y'all can not perceive a protag who might not be the best person who ur also NOT supposed to hate (god forbid a protag not have Jesus adjacent morality) but thats what he is. He'll do whatever anyone wrote him doing bc he's not real and also anything thats morally ambiguous or toxic bc that's one of his character traits and what was supposed to set him apparent from other heros he's not even a hero he's an antihero. I can not believe y'all are moralizing something as tame as bullying. Bullies making up with their victims happens in DISNEY movies now y'all tryna make that into some problematic take. OMG. And this is from someone who WAS bullied briefly until I learned how to fight and stand up for myself.

Thinking that someone who romanticizes something morally wrong couldn't have possibly been through that experience is the direct antithesis of fiction. It also makes no sense. Plenty of ppl write from experience but also sometimes turning it into a story in which they control how they interact with a bully does A LOT FOR REGAIN CONTROL OF THOSE NEGATIVE EXPERIENCES. STOP TRYING TO SUS OUT WHO HAS TRAUMA OR NOT. also STOP thinking that you are an authority of certain traumatic experiences you aren't every experiences are very VERY personal and the portrayal of those experiences should have NOTHING to do with yours bc there is NO way to encapsulate all lived experiences. And even if someone hasn't been bullied who cares again decenter yourself from a fictional scenario that should in now way be a representation of you bc u are not the center of the universe.

(THIS SECTION UNDERNEATH IS MY HEAD CANON U DONT HAVE TO TELL ME U DONT LIKE AGE GAPS IDC)

Secondly wade only wouldnt bully Peter TO ME bc I'm not a teenager in highschool like some of y'all and highschool fics don't interest me and wade to me shouldne even be in highschool and always be the much older one in the dynamic. They shouldnt even be near the same age for me. But whatever floats ur boat. You can do whatever you wan't but when y'all make these long posts telling OTHER ppl what they can and can't do OR how you think YOUR interpretation of the character is the most right your crossing a line frl.

Edit: I read both Deadpool and spiderman comics btw plus the very wonderful spiderman/Deadpool run. GASP I know someone who likes the source material but doesn't adhere strictly to it bc I actually have an imagination and like to have fun instead of kissing marvels feet and remaining in a narrow interpretation of a character. A rare breed I guess.

Edit edit: I also think alot of y'all have a very romcom take on spideypool. And thats definitely fine love my fair share of fluff. But I have a much more complicated take on them. Again I think an age gap compliments these complications. It adds to an imbalanced perspective of both of them towards each other. I'm also very uninterested in a spideypool that grow healthy together or peter "fixing" wade. I want them to overcomplicate their relationship but for it to also be a healthy balance of comedic and fun and hot monkey sex that keeps them interested in a less than perfect relationship. A sorta push and pull from both sides.

#im tored of yall frl yall so annoying #discourse #Spideypool #spiderman #deadpool #wade wilson #peter parker #gall are just boring antis policing ppls fun for no reason #even something as tame as BULLYING has yall cruing and whining #proshipper safe

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sweetbillwriting · 16 days

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In The Dead of Night

ELEVEN

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

“He was in a coma six months ago? For how long?” I asked in shock, but Robin didn't react to it.

“A month, I think? I learned about it after a couple of weeks. His friends didn't know if they should call me and... Heroin. I thought he had stopped with that shit, but one of his weird friends told me he had overdosed on purpose because of depression.”

I looked down at the ground, thinking back on my dreams. Could it be that Eric was in a coma? Believing he was dead? I dragged my hands over my face and shook my head in disbelief. I had started to believe the dreams were just dreams, but now I thought back on it again. The Spotify playlist, the name of his biological mom, the places and drawings he had shown me... Could he in some way visit my dreams while he was in a coma?

“Are you listening?” Asked Robin a little irritated, and I nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. It's just so much… He hasn't told me this.”

“He's probably embarrassed. He has overdosed twice and lived while other people who do something with their lives die of diseases. He gets saved.”

I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, trying to digest everything. I started to get a headache from it all and dragged my hands through my hair, but still I had questions.

“Do you see him as your brother? You cried when you found out he was in a coma, but you talk about him like an invader in your family.”

Robin bent down in a similar way as I and looked down at Odin laying on the ground.

“No. He's just Eric to me. He's my parents foster kid, but he's nothing to me. I get that sounds harsh, but I never understood who he was as a kid, and then in my teens he moved in with us permanently and made everything difficult. But… They also favored him so hard. Dad cut down work hours to be home with him; mom was with him all the time, and they gave him expensive gifts, and we traveled more.”

I looked at Robin’s sad face and how he dragged his feet through the wet leaves on the ground. Maybe it was actually true? Maybe they actually gave Eric all that. I could imagine they wanted to give him all the things he had never gotten to lay a bandage over the abuse and trauma his mom caused him, but it was too much to not get Robin's attention. On top of that, Eric had magical powers? I wanted to laugh at my own thoughts but couldn't do that when Robin sat next to me, but it really seemed like Eric was something more. He talked with animals, was kind to everyone, liked by everyone, and could escape death and visit my dreams. He sounded like a Disney princess.

Robin was quiet just like me for a while, but he wasn't thinking about Snow White; he prepared a confession.

“I never told mom and dad I was gay... It would have given them one more reason to love him more than me. Instead, I was the weird one, never meeting a girl. Did you know he slept with my best friend? And later, two other friends. He was clearly straight and on top of that an asshole. Now he has slept with a fourth friend of mine…”

I looked at Robin up and down uncomfortably. I didn't want to believe Eric had slept with his friends, but I could also see how that could have happened. Eric had been tall, hot, and sexy since his late teens, and on top of that, he had taken drugs then already. I swallowed hard when I thought about how many he probably had slept with.

“I'm sorry, Robin... I don't even know what to say, but… He didn't know we were friends. I've lied to him too…”

Robin shook his head to himself and looked down at his hands playing with Odin's leash, then he sighed.

“I guess I can't decide who you date… But can you promise me you will never force me to like him? And that you're careful? He is an addict, whatever you say.”

I smiled with relief, happy to have his blessing, but it fell when I thought about Eric. He would never forgive me.

“I don't think we need to talk about that even… He will never forgive me…” I took a deep breath to calm myself down because I could feel the tears pushing behind my eyes.

“Ehm, before I talk about him, can we go home? I don't want to sit here and ugly cry in front of everyone.”

Robin nodded quickly and fixed Odin's leash around his hand.

“Of course, of course.”

We went to my home, and with a big cup of tea each, I told him about my love for Eric. How he had pulled me in at once and how I couldn't stop myself from loving him from the first time we met.

“I had these dreams about him when I thought he was dead and… He really was everything I ever wanted from a guy. Nothing like Dante, then I met him, and he was the same, and… He really sees me. He really cares for me, and even if you can't see it, he makes me feel safe.”

I cried so hard, I didn't know if Robin could hear me, but it seemed like it. He looked uncomfortable, even upset, but nodded slowly.

“I… Well, okay, I guess. If you feel like that, I will not say that it isn't true; it's just that I can't see anything else than how manipulative and selfish he is. That's my picture of him, but… Clearly, you see other sides in him…”

I nodded and dried my wet cheeks, but new tears came.

“But it's too late now…”

Robin shook his head.

“In rehab, they talk quite a lot about how to ask for forgiveness and to forgive others. If he learned anything there, he would listen. It's worth a try. You should call him.”

I looked at Robin, who met my eyes. It was big of him saying these things even if he didn't like Eric. Once again, I dried my tears, and then I gave him a hug. At least he was a true friend to me.

I waited until Robin had left to call Eric, and then a bit longer after that. I didn't dare at first. Maybe he was really angry and would curse at me. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I thought about leaving it be, so I could imagine him not being angry and grieve what was of our relationship. However, in the long run it wouldn't give me anything, so I collected myself and called him with shaking hands. I heard signal after signal, and the fourth I thought about hanging up, but just when the fifth started, he answered.

“Hey,” he said shortly.

“Hey.”

“Hey… Ehm… I don't know what to say, Eric, more than I'm so, so sorry for… everything,” I said with a dry throat and was forced to even cough after I had spoke.

“Yeah…” he said with his thinking voice. I knew he was in deep thought just in the way he answered.

“I love you. I love you, so so much,” I said desperately. Eric was quiet, so I continued to talk.

“I just wanted to be with you. From the first time I saw your photo, I was—”

Eric cleared his voice awkwardly. It was probably a bit much hearing me explain my love for his photo.

“Maybe, maybe we can talk for real?” He said it in a dreamlike tone, and for a second I would have believed he had smoked marijuana recently, but I knew he often sounded like that when he tried to master his big feelings and sensitive heart. “I can come to you tomorrow?”

My own heart beated hard. I didn't want anything more than that.

“Of course, of course!” I said excitedly, I couldn't contain my happiness.

“Good… I'm sorry, by the way?”

“What? For What?” I answered with a giggle, like he was joking. I couldn't control the euphoria I felt of just knowing I would be close to him soon.

“For what happened with Nick and all that… I guess drugs are the thing I think about when life sucks. Like when you had those extreme menstrual cramps and you asked for—”

“Stop!” I said with a loud laugh, and Eric laughed too. It was a joke, a joke about that time I had such horrible period cramps that my ass cramped so I had begged him for anal sex like it was the only thing that could save my life.

Fortunately, it subsided by itself before we had time to do it, and then it felt awfully scary.

I could hear Eric's sweet little giggle in my ear, and I sighed with love.

“I really love you the most in the entire world, you know.”

“I love you most in the entire world, too, babe,” he said warmly before we hung up.

×××

“I'm sorry, but it sounds super weird you dreamed about me,” he said after thinking about what I had said for a while. I had told him I dreamed about him, but I didn't dare say I believed it was actually him visiting my dreams. It would be too much and sound a bit like an excuse from a stalker.

“It was! After the first time seeing your photo, I started to dream about you, and you were amazing in the dream, just as amazing as you are now, and yeah, I just wanted to meet you for real. And you were so different from Dante. Even the person you were in my dream was everything I wanted.”

Eric looked at me with big eyes and nodded. He put down his cup on the coffee table, then he moved closer to me smoothly.

“You have said many times that Dante was a really bad guy… What does that mean?” He searched my eyes, but I just looked away. I didn't want to talk about Dante like that.

“You can talk to me… I hope you know that.”

I moved closer to Eric and looked into his kind eyes. I was safe with him.

“He hit me a couple of times.”

I looked at Eric's Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“He hit you?”

“It was just a few times, but I provoked him, so it's just embarrassing to talk about. I don't want people to know how annoying I-”

“Hey!” Said Eric, upset, and it made me jump. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he said softly when he realized he had scared me. “No guy has any right to hit you, even if you're annoying as hell. I don't care what you say about yourself, he is the one in the wrong.” He looked at me seriously but suddenly looked scared. “You know I would never do that, right? I know people say it's a bigger risk for abused kids to become abusive adults, but I would never ever in my life do that. I would kill myself if I ever did that.”

His words were sincere and worried, and his face, cute. I kissed his full lips and dragged my hand over his smooth cheek.

“I know that, Eric. That's why I love you so much. I would never doubt your kindness.” I kissed him again, and it led to us making out a bit. I crawled up in his lap, and he took his chance to pull down my tank top straps so he could play with my chest with his big hands. His lips found a nipple, and once again he sucked so hard it felt like he thought his next dinner was there. I dragged my hands over his head and cradled him against my chest while he found comfort against me.

“My boy… I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you in life…” I whispered and made him look at me, still with my nipple between his lips.

“I'm sorry that your biological mom didn't treat you well and that you met so many others that have hurt you…”

Eric released my nipple and looked away but still lay against my chest.

“I know it's her fault I am the way I am. That I crave... That I need drugs to calm my loud thoughts down, but I'm not mad anymore. She was disturbed. She was sick. The men… They're just faceless idiots to me, so there is no one to be angry with.”

He sounded so mature and calm, and I felt proud and smiled at him a little. It would be a good person like Eric who could see life from that angle.

“But when you are depressed, what is that about?”

He shrugged his shoulders and sat up.

“Depression doesn't always have an explanation. It's just like everything drops for me. Like nothing is important. It just falls to the ground, and I can't see an end. Of course I can have nightmares about the men who kicked me around or the times Linda tied me to the radiator for a day or two.” I gave him an upset look, but he didn't seem to notice. “But it's not those memories that make me depressed. That's just my brain shutting off.”

Eric looked at me and then smiled a little.

“You don't need to look so worried; it was fifteen years ago. And Linda is dead. She died of a failing liver when I was eighteen or something.”

I nodded a little and patted his cheeks. It was hard thinking that a kind soul as Eric had gotten treated like that, and it made both my chest and stomach hurt. I kissed his lips softly a few times, but I noticed quickly that Eric wanted more than that. I giggled when he pulled down my tank top again to touch my chest and when he licked my lips to be able to get permission to dance with my tongue.

Deep tongue kisses made Eric pleasurably groan, and when I moved in his lap, I could clearly feel he was hard. I dragged myself over his sex and could feel his cock grow to its full size in the loose-fit track pants. Eric knew what he wanted but also what I wanted, so he stood up and let me hang around him like a koala bear.

“Am I not heavy?” I said with a giggle. I knew I wasn't for him, but I wanted to hear it.

“Fuck no, you don't weigh a thing.” He said, shaking his head. He probably knew I just wanted to hear that but answered seriously so it would feel even more real for me. I giggled and leaned back while being in his safe arms. I could lean back a long way, and Eric let out a sound of admiration.

“Fuck you're sexy,” he said, and then put me down in bed. His words made me feel my self esteem grow, and I smirked while taking off my clothes while lying in bed. I moved sensually, letting him be my small little audience while I started my masturbation show for him. Eric stood and looked at me with an open mouth and pulled off his big gray t-shirt. I looked at his muscles shamelessly, and even if he was so close, I fantasized about having him even closer. I sat up, drunk of hornyness, and pulled him closer to me with a grip of the elastic to his dark blue pants.

From his navel down to the hem of his pants, I made a small trail of kisses. I licked the lines going down to his groin while teasingly pushing down his pants with his boxers. Eric chuckled a little when I licked closer and closer to his loins and helped me take the last of his clothes when my lips moved closer and closer to the root of his cock. He kicked the pants and boxers away with his socks and then turned around. His idea was to just attack my lips with his, but I stopped him because I wanted to look at him. Eric scratched his ear while I looked at his body up and down.

“Damn boy,” I teased and bit my lip. Eric chuckled, embarrassed but also proudly. He had a hobby you could see clearly how much he worked on, but also, he won a lottery in anatomy.

“Can I fuck you now?” He said and moved closer to me, and I nodded with a giggle. With a smile, he kissed me and moved over me, his body so broad it felt like it swallowed me up. He smelled like one of his expensive perfumes, mixed with herbal tea, and even that smell was intoxicating. With a swift motion, he had pushed me down on my stomach in bed so he could enter me from behind while he held me close to his body. I wonder if I could ever get used to his size or strength. I hoped not because every time he was close, I felt so blessed and protected, and I hoped I would never take that feeling for granted.

×××

Eric fell asleep after our lovemaking; most of the time he had held me up against the wall, and I could see that would even be much for him, but I couldn't deny what a feeling it was to be held like that. I felt small and vulnerable in his arms, full, overwhelmed, and light as air. He had instead held me up by the thighs while also moving in and out of me with fast, hard strokes. No wonder he was tired.

I swept my finger over his nose, following the straight nose bridge out to the upturned tip. He wasn't bothered by it; he just continued to sleep. Warmth rose in my chest while I looked at him, but another feeling started to take over. Hadn't it been very easy for me to be forgiven by him? I had lied and gone behind his back, but he forgave me after just a few minutes, then slept with me in the best way. The last time I saw him, he had also laid in a bed but had asked for drugs. Did that craving just disappear? I thought back to the moment in his bed and what he had said. He had wanted the morphine pills he had seen in the bathroom. Pills I hadn't hidden away before his visit. I stood up from bed and pulled on a floral kimono as I walked to the bathroom on light feet. I know you can guess what I found—nothing. The pills weren't anywhere to be found. I searched over and over in the bathroom, but there weren't any pills. I could feel the panic grow because I didn't want to believe it, but still it was there; Eric had just forgiven me and slept with me to steal my morphine pills.

I stood and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, more or less waiting for the inevitable breakdown. I loved him so much, but he clearly loved other things more than me, even if he had said he loved me most in the entire world. I waited for the breakdown, but it never came; maybe it had just been too much the last few days and there were no tears left.

I walked back to the bedroom, where he still slept with just the cover on his hips. I looked at all the badly made tattoos, the clues to what life he had lived and probably would soon live again. I wondered if he was high on something while we slept together. Maybe it was amphetamine that gave him his stamina. I kicked his shin with my foot over and over. That was the only way I wanted to touch him; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to keep my cool. I kicked quite hard after a while to make him wake up, and after three hard kicks, he looked up at me confused.

“I'm sorry, have I slept a long time?” He said with a raspy voice and rubbed his eyes.

“Did you just sleep with me to be able to take my pills?” I said crass with furrowed brows. He sat up and scratched his chest. He looked adorable with his big eyes shifting, but for me, that was just proof he had taken them; he couldn't even look at me.

“What?”

“My morphine pills; you have taken them!”

“What? No?”

“God, I never thought this about you, Eric!”

“But I haven't-”

“Don't lie to me!”

“But I-”

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

I heard my own words in my head. Had I thrown that in his face, and he hadn't even taken the pills? He must have taken them. Where else were they? I needed to talk to someone, someone that could tell me I had done the right thing. I called Robin with shaking hands, sitting on the toilet lid with legs bobbing up and down in panic.

“My morphine pills were gone, so he must have taken them, but I don't know when he could have done it, but he must have, right? Right? I mean, where are they otherwise? He came here and pretended to be the perfect boyfriend again just to take them!” I rambled with a runny nose.

Robin was quiet on the line. I wasn't prepared for that; I thought he would just say I had done the right thing.

“I have them.”

I didn't understand what he was saying and furrowed my brows in confusion.

“What?”

Robin sighed deeply.

“I'm sorry, I thought I did both of you a favor by taking them away. So he wouldn't be tempted.”

“Huh?” My heart beated hard against my chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I had accused Eric of stealing my pills without any proof, and here I now sat with the truth. Eric was really the perfect boyfriend, but I had called him a junkie.

“I didn't want to do a thing out of it because I was afraid you would be angry if I said anything that could be critical to your relationship.”

Robin sounded sincere, but right at that moment I didn't care. I had called Eric a fucking junkie. I thought about his hurt expression but how calm he still continued to be. Always so respectful and sweet, even when hearing such things.

“Oh my god... Oh my god…” I said with a shaking voice and laid a hand over my mouth to cover my sobs.

“I'm really sorry, Della; this wasn't my plan at all!” Said Robin with guilt and stress in his voice. I didn't say anything because I was busy trying to control my tears.

“I would never do such a thing to you. Him, yes, but not you. I can punish him with mom and all that, but I wouldn't-” he interrupted himself, and I could almost hear his panic.

“...how do you punish Eric? What? How do you punish Eric??” I said, upset, and raised my voice. I had a bad feeling—a really bad feeling and ideas about what he had done to Eric spun around in my head.

“Nothing!” Robin sounded mad, but I was quite sure it was a way to mask that he had said way too much.

“Tell me now!”

Robin was quiet on the line. “Is it something about him not seeing Lotti? Huh? Have you kept them from each other?”

Robin sighed like he was irritated, but instead of saying anything, he hung up in my ear.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #the crow #eric

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

Text

Tech workers and gig workers need each other

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

We're living in the enshittocene, in which the forces of enshittification are turning everything from our cars to our streaming services to our dishwashers into thoroughly enshittifified piles of shit. Call it the Great Enshittening:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

How did we arrive at this juncture? Is it the end of the zero rate interest policy? Was it that the companies that formerly made useful things that we valued underwent a change in leadership that drove them to make things worse? Is Mercury in retrograde?

None of the above. There have been many junctures in which investors demanded higher returns from firms but were not able to force them to dramatically worsen their products. Moreover, the leaders now presiding over the rapid unscheduled disassembly of once-useful products are the same people who oversaw their golden age. As to Mercury? Well, I'm a Cancer, and as everyone knows, Cancers don't believe in astrology.

The Great Enshittening isn't precipitated by a change in how greedy and callous corporate leaders are. Rather, the change is in what those greedy, callous corporate leaders can get away with.

Capitalists hate capitalism. For a corporate executive, the fact that you have to make good things, please your customers, pay your workers, and beat the competition are all bugs, not features. The best business is one in which people simply pay you money without your having to do anything or worry that someday they'll stop. UBI for the investor class, in other words.

Douglas Rushkoff calls this "going meta." Don't sell things, provide a platform where people sell things. Don't provide a platform, invest in the platform. Don't invest in the platform, buy options on the platform. Don't buy options, buy derivatives of options.

A more precise analysis comes from economist Yanis Varoufakis, who calls this technofeudalism. Varoufakis draws our attention to the distinction between profits and rents. Profit is the income a capitalist receives from mobilizing workers to do something productive and then skimming off the surplus created by their labor.

By contrast, rent is income a feudalist derives from simply owning something that a capitalist or a worker needs in order to be productive. The entrepreneur who opens a coffee shop earns profits by creaming off the surplus value created by the baristas. The rentier who owns the building the coffee shop rents gets money simply for owning the building.

The coffee shop owner can never rest. At any moment, another coffee shop can open down the street and lure away their customers and their baristas. When that happens, the coffee shop goes bust and the owner is ruined. But not the landlord! After the coffee shop goes bust, the landlord's asset is more valuable – an empty storefront just down the street from the hottest coffee shop in town.

Capitalists hate capitalism. Faced with a choice of retaining their workers by paying them a fair wage and treating them well, or by saddling them with noncompetes that make it impossible to work for anyone else in the same field, and obligations to repay tens of thousands of dollars for "training" if they quit, bosses will take the latter every time. Go meta, baby.

Same for competition. Faced with the choice of competing to win the most customers with the best products, or merging so that customers have nowhere else to go, even the bitterest of rivals find it remarkably easy to intermarry until our corporations landscape is so interbred the dominant firms all have Habsburg jaws. Think: Facebook-Instagram. Disney-Fox. Microsoft-Activision:

https://locusmag.com/2021/07/cory-doctorow-tech-monopolies-and-the-insufficient-necessity-of-interoperability/

Enshittification has complex underlying dynamics and a reliable procession of stages, but the effect is quite straightforward: things are enshittified when they become worse for the people who use them and the suppliers who makes them, but nevertheless, the users keep using and the suppliers keep supplying.

There are four forces that stand in the way of enshittification, and as each of these forces grows weaker, enshittification proliferates.

The first and most important of these constraints is competition. Capitalists claim to love competition because it keeps firms sharp: they must constantly find ways to improve products and cut costs or be swept away by a superior alternative. There's a degree of truth here, but that's not the whole story.

For one thing, competition can "improve" things that we would rather see abolished. Critics of the GDPR, the EU's landmark privacy law, often point to the devastation that enforcing privacy law had on the European ad-tech industry, driving small firms out of business. But these firms were the most egregious privacy offenders, because they had the least to lose, lacking the dominant position of US-based Big Tech surveillance companies.

Having the least to lose, they were the most reckless with their privacy invasions – but they were also the least equipped to pay expensive enablers from giant corporate law firms to hold off European enforcers, and so they were obliterated. The resulting lack of competition is fine, as far as privacy goes: we don't want competition in the field of "who is most efficient at violating our human rights":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/04/fighting-floc-and-fighting-monopoly-are-fully-compatible

But there's another benefit to competition: disorganization. A sector with hundreds of medium-sized, competing companies is a squabbling mob, incapable of agreeing on the site for an annual meeting. An industry dominated by a handful of firms is a cartel, handily capable of presenting a unified front to policy makers, and their commercial coziness provides them with vast war-chests they can use to suborn governments and capture their regulators:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/05/regulatory-capture/

Competition is the first constraint. When there's competition, corporate managers fear that you will respond to enshittification by defecting to a rival, costing them money. They don't care about your satisfaction, but they do care about your money, and competition hitches their ability to satisfy you to their ability to get paid by you.

Competition has been circling the drain for 40 years, as the "consumer welfare" theory of antitrust, hatched by Reagan's court sorcerers at the University of Chicago School of Economics, took hold. This theory insists that monopolies are evidence of "efficiency" – if everyone shops at one store, that's evidence that it's the best store, not evidence that they're cheating.

For 40 years, we've allowed companies to violate antitrust law by merging with major competitors, acquiring fledgling rivals, and using investor cash to sell below cost so that no one else can enter the market. This has produced the inbred industrial hulks of today, with five or fewer firms dominating everything from eyeglasses to banking, sea freight to professional wrestling:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

The endless and continuous weakening of competition has emboldened corporate enshittifiers, who operate on the logic of Lily Tomlin in her role as an AT&T spokeswoman: "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company":

https://vimeo.com/355556831

But the drawdown of competition has also enabled regulatory capture, by converting cutthroat adversaries to kissing cousins. These companies have convinced their regulators not to enforce privacy, consumer protection or labor laws, provided that the gross violations of these laws are accomplished via apps.

This is where tech exceptionalism is warranted: while the bosses that run these companies aren't any nobler – or more wicked – than the Robber Barons of yore, they are equipped with a digital back-end for their businesses that let them change the rules of the game from moment to moment.

Think of labor law: as Veena Dubal writes, gig-work companies practice algorithmic wage discrimination, turning your paycheck into a slot machine that pays out more when you are more selective about which jobs you take, and which then docks your pay by tiny increments as you become less discriminating about answering the app's call:

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

This is a plain violation of labor law, but the fiction that gig workers are contractors, combined with the opacity and speed of the wage discrimination back-end, lets the companies get away with it.

But the monsters who hatched this scam are no worse than their forebears, nor are they any smarter. Any black-hearted coal-boss memorialized in a Tennessee Ernie Ford song would have gladly practiced algorithmic wage discrimination – but there just weren't enough green-eyeshade accountants in the back office to change the payout from second to second.

I call this "twiddling" – turning the knobs on the back end to continuously adjust the business logic that the firm operates on:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

Twiddling is everywhere, and it is only possible because "it's not a crime if we use an app" has been accepted by (captured) regulators. Think of Amazon's "pricing paradox," where deceptive search results – which Amazon makes $38b/year on – allow the company to offer lower prices, but charge higher ones:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

The first constraint on enshittification is competition – the fear that you'll lose money when a disgusted customer take their business elsewhere. The second constraint is regulation – the fear that a regulator's punishment will eat up all the expected gains from an enshittificatory move, or even exceed those gains, leading to a net loss.

But the less competition there is in a sector, the easier it is for the remaining companies to capture their regulators. Say goodbye to that second constraint.

But there's another constraint – another one that's unique to technology, and genuinely exceptional. That's self-help. Digital technology is infinitely flexible, which is why managers can twiddle the business logic and change the rules on a dime.

But it's a double-edged sword. Users can twiddle back. The universal nature of digital products means it's always technically possible to disenshittify the enshittified products in your world. Mercedes wants to charge you rent on your accelerator pedal via a monthly subscription? Just mod the car by toggling the "subscription paid" bit and get the accelerator for free:

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

HP tricks you into installing a "security update" that sneakily disables your printer's ability to recognize and use third-party ink? Just roll back the operating system and you won't be forced to spend $10,000/gallon to print out your boarding passes and shopping lists:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

Self-help – AKA "adversarial interoperability" – isn't just a way to override the greedy choices of corporate sadists. It's a way to hold those sadists in check. It's a constraint.

Imagine a boardroom where someone says, "I calculate that if we make our ads 25% more invasive and obnoxious, we can eke out 2% more in ad-revenue." If you think of a business as a transhuman colony organism that exists to maximize shareholder value, this is a no-brainer.

But now consider the rejoinder: "If we make our ads 25% more obnoxious, then 50% of our users will be motivated to type, 'how do I block ads?' into a search engine. When that happens, we don't merely lose out on the expected 2% of additional revenue – our income from those users falls to zero, forever."

Self-help is the third constraint on enshittification. But when competition fails, and regulatory capture ensues, companies don't just gain the ability to flout the law – they get to wield the law, too.

Tech firms have cultivated a thicket of laws, rules and regulations that make self-help measures very illegal. This thicket is better known as "IP," a term that is best understood as meaning "any policy that lets me control the conduct of my competitors, my customers and my critics":

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

To put an ad-blocker in an app, you have to reverse-engineer it. To do that, you'll have to decrypt and decompile it. That step is a felony under Section 1201 of the DMCA, carrying a five-year prison sentence and a $500,000 fine. Beyond that, ad-blocking an app would give rise to liability under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act (a law inspired by the movie Wargames!), under "tortious interference" claims, under trademark, copyright and patent.

More than 50% of web users have installed an ad-blocker:

https://doc.searls.com/2023/11/11/how-is-the-worlds-biggest-boycott-doing/

But zero percent of app users have installed an ad-blocker, because they don't exist, because you'd go to prison if you made one. An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a felony to add an ad-blocker to it.

This is why self-help, the third constraint, no longer applies. When a corporate sadist says, "let's make ads 25% more obnoxious to get 2% more revenue," no one says, "if we do that, our users will all install blockers." Instead, the response is, "let's make ads 100% more obnoxious and get an 8% revenue boost!"

https://www.theverge.com/2023/6/16/23763227/uber-video-advertising-ads-taxi-food-delivery-apps

Which brings me to the final constraint: workers.

Tech workers have historically enjoyed enormous bargaining power, thanks to a dire shortage of qualified personnel. While this allowed tech workers to command high salaries and cushy benefits, it also led many workers to conceive of themselves as entrepreneurs-in-waiting and not workers at all.

This made tech workers very exploitable: their bosses could sell them on the idea that they were doing something heroic, which warranted "extremely hardcore" expectations – working 16 hour days, sleeping under your desk, sacrificing your health, your family and your personal life to meet deadlines and ship products ("Real artists ship" – S. Jobs).

But the flip side of this appeal to heroism is that it only worked to the extent that it convinced workers to genuinely care about the things they made. When you miss you mother's funeral and pass on having kids in order to meet deadline and ship a product, the prospect of making that product worse is unthinkable.

Confronted by the moral injury of enshittifying a product you care about, and harming the users you see yourself as representing, many tech workers balked at the prospect. Because tech workers were scarce – and because there were plenty of employment prospects for workers who quit – they could actually prevent their bosses from making their products worse:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

But those days are behind us, too. Mass tech worker layoffs have gutted tech workers' confidence. When Google lays off 12,000 tech workers just months after a stock buyback that would have paid their wages for the next 27 years, they deliver two benefits to their shareholders. It's not just the short-term gains from the financial engineering – there's the long-term gain of gutting worker power and stripping away the final impediment to enshittification:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

No matter how strong an individual tech worker's bargaining power was, it was always brittle. Long before googlers were being laid off in five-digit cohorts, they were working in an environment where harassment and predation were just part of the job. The 20,000+ googlers who walked off the job in 2018 were an important step towards replacing the system where each tech worker's power was limited to their moment-to-moment importance to their bosses' plans with a new system based on a collective identity.

Only through collective action and solidarity – unions – could tech workers hope to truly resist all the moral injuries of their bosses enshittification imperatives. No surprise then, that tech unions are on the rise:

https://abookapart.com/products/you-deserve-a-tech-union

But what is a little surprising – and very heartening! – is what happens when techies start to self-identify as workers: they come to understand that they share common cause with the other workers at the bottom of the tech stack. Think of Amazon's tech workers walking out in solidarity with Amazon's warehouse workers:

https://gizmodo.com/tech-workers-speak-out-in-support-of-amazon-warehouse-s-1842839301

Superficially, the bottom rank of the tech industry is as different from the tech workers at the top as you can imagine. Tech workers are formally employed, with stock options, health care and theme-park "campuses" with gyms and gourmet cafeterias.

The gig workers who pack, drive, deliver and support tech products aren't even employees – they're misclassified as contractors. They don't get free massages – they get AI bosses that monitor their eyeballs and dock their paychecks for peeing:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

Gig workers desperately need unions, but they also derive extraordinary benefits from self-help measures. When an app is your boss, another app can make all the difference to your working conditions. Take Para, an app that fights algorithmic wage discrimination by allowing gig workers to collectively and automatically refuse any job where the pay is below a certain threshold, forcing the algorithm to pay everyone more:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/tech-rights-are-workers-rights-doordash-edition

Para is fighting a grim legal and technical battle against companies like Doordash, whose margins depend on atomized workers with atomized apps, prohibited from countertwiddling. This is a surprisingly effective tactic: in Indonesia, gig workers co-ops create suites of "tuyul" apps that modify the behavior of their bosses' apps', unilaterally securing concessions that they lack the bargaining power to secure by other means:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

Tuyul apps and other forms of countertwiddling aren't a substitute for unionization, they're an adjunct to it. The union negotiator whose rank-and-file are able to modify the apps that monitor and control their working conditions operates from a position of strength. "Please give my members more bathroom breaks" is a lot weaker than, "If you want my members to stop hacking their apps so they can piss when they need to, you're going to have to give them official bathroom breaks."

This is where solidarity between the high-paid tech workers at the keyboard and low-paid tech workers on the delivery bikes comes in. Together, they can wring more concessions from their bosses, sure. But unionized coders can give their unionized delivery riders the apps they need to countertwiddle and increase the bargaining leverage of all the workers in the union. And when unionized coders' bosses force them to put enshittifying anti-features in the apps they care about, unionized front-line workers can run counter-apps that disenshittify them.

Other sectors are already working through versions of this. The ouster of the old corrupt leadership of the Teamsters ushered in a new, radical era that produced historic wage and working condition gains for drivers and the abolition of the two-tier contract system that eventually destroys any union that tries it.

That change in leadership was possible because the Teamsters organized the Harvard Grad Students, and those Harvard kids memorized the union rulebook. At the historic conference where the old guard was abolished, it was teamwork between the union rank-and-file and the rules-lawyers from Harvard that turned the proceedings around:

https://theintercept.com/2023/04/07/deconstructed-union-dhl-teamsters-uaw/

We are deep into the enshittocene and it is terribly demoralizing. But by understanding the constraints that kept enshittification at bay, we can rebuild them, and shore them up. Labor organizing among all kinds of tech workers isn't just a way to get a better deal for those workers – it's key to the disenshittification of all our lives.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for 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.

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/2024/01/13/solidarity-forever/#tech-unions

#pluralistic #jennifer abruzzo #labor #tech unions #tech layoffs #enshittification #para #tuyul apps #solidarity #union density

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leclerc-s · 9 months

Text

a paddock family christmas

series masterlist

nataliaruiz, penelopetrevino, isabellaperez, maejonesverstappen, maxjonesverstappen posted new stories

baby's first christmas, tears were shed shoutout seb for getting reindeer this christmas and hosting us! churro is not loving the snow taking my auntie duties very seriously this christmas seb's banned her from helping with tree decorating. it's very unfair. who can say no to her?

danieljonesricciardo, freyavettel, mickschumacher, charles_leclerc, and zoyatorres posted new stories

next up: christmas tree farm by my wife! 'tis the season 💞 mon coeur (my heart) according to logan, i'm officially a disney princess

rhysjones, baileywinters, isabellaperez, and dulceperez

one thing i will ever do is let this picture die. happy holidays! i have been entrusted with baking. hope i don't let seb down. moments after he threatened to yet again steal max's cats and to force daphne to adopt him so he can terrorize daniel 24/7 looks like someone is coming for charles' ferrari seat.

liked by sukiwaterhouse, sebastianvettel, zoyatorres, and others

nataliaruiz the easiest yes of my life

tagged: charles_leclerc

user restricted comments

sukiwaterhouse congrats! wishing you two so much love and happiness.

↳ nataliaruiz thanks babes, you're still my #1 don't worry!

↳ sukiwaterhouse i better be. that french fuck has nothing on me

↳ charles_leclerc I'M MONEGASQUE! YOU KNOW THIS!

↳ sukiwaterhouse i couldn't care less

zoyatorres still can't believe i got to witness this with my own eyes. however, no one cried more than arthur.

↳ arthur_leclerc STOP TELLING EVERYONE MY BUSINESS!

danieljonesricciardo welcome to the club! i call best man!

↳ pierregasly i think the fuck not! you already got to be best man at mae and max's wedding.

lorenzotl officially welcome to the family, although you've been an unofficial leclerc since 2019. love you, merry christmas to you and little star

↳ nataliaruiz love you enzo!

freyavettel MOM AND DAD ARE GETTING MARRIED! I AM A CHILD OF ENGAGED PARENTS!

↳ mickschumacher reminder, your actual parents are married.

↳ freyavettel shh mickey!

isabellaperez AND FOR ONCE LANDO DIDN'T SPOIL IT!

↳ landonorris THAT WAS ONE TIME ISA! LET IT GO!

mrsamclaflin i see he finally got the hint. goodbye mrs.dunne, you were the best fake wife.

↳ nataliaruiz he did! and goodbye to you mr.dunne, you were an amazing fake husband!

rileykeough i can't believe i lost my wife to a french?

↳ charles_leclerc I'M MONEGASQUE!

↳ rileykeough i don't care? you speak french = you are french. end of story.

sebastianvettel always knew you two were in love, even before you did.

↳ nataliaruiz no, you didn't! how could you know when even we didn't?

↳ sebastianvettel easy, he looked at you the same way i look at my wife. he was as the children say 'down bad'

liked by scuderiaferrari, maejonesverstappen, carlossainz55, and others

charles_leclerc pour toujours

translation: forever

tagged: nataliaruiz

user restricted comments

carlossainz55 felicidades cabrón!

↳ charles_leclerc thanks mate!

alexalbon he finally got the hint!

maxjonesverstappen1 it only took you 6 months to get the hint

↳ charles_leclerc i'm not as clueless as you all think! i was waiting for christmas!

↳ landonorris um, why christmas?

↳ charles_leclerc when we were 10 she said she wanted to get engaged on christmas with the people most important to her present. her dad and brother couldn't make it so i settled for all of you.

↳ georgerussell63 wow really feeling the love sharl.

↳ charles_leclerc i'm kidding, thank you for clearing you plans and making it out for her.

scuderiaferrari congrats to the happy couple!

↳ nataliaruiz build him a better car next season or things will get ugly

↳ scuderiaferrari ma’am you are scary.

zoyatorres PARENTS ARE GETTING MARRIED!

mrsamclaflin well congrats to the happy couple! it's about time!

↳ nataliaruiz why thank you mr. dunne!

↳ mrsamclaflin anytime future mrs.leclerc!

↳ charles_leclerc we were going to have problems if you called her mrs.dunne 🤺

rileykeough she's married to me leclerc?

↳ charles_leclerc you wish

↳ rileykeough oh you know she is.

rhysjones lightning mcqueen finally got his sally to say yes to marriage!

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! merry christmas to those of you who celebrate! and to those of you who don't i wish you a very wonderful day. now, someone had to engaged or married on christmas! they are all my babies and i have to make them happy for christmas.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the honest series #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x female oc #formula 1 #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #f1 fic

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leclerc-drives-in-circles · 1 year

Text

Disney Could Never (Rafe Cameron)

summary: Rafe comes up and tells you SOMETHING while you watch a movie with Wheezie.

Warnings: sexual innuendos-ish, sorta fluff, rafe being lowkey kinda adorable, swearing, confusion, idek but hope you enjoy even though it took me like three weeks to write this

A/n: this is something I'm doing with @pink-princess-pussy-pop so enjoy!

You were hanging out in the family room of tannyhill with Wheezie watching The Little Mermaid and just hanging out when you realize you ran out of snacks so you went to the kitchen to grab more.

"Hey, Wheeze, I'm gonna go grab more snacks, okay?" You tell her quickly running to the kitchen because you didn't want to miss any of the movie you've seen countless times.

You're speeding through grabbing the snacks when you feel a strong pair of arms around your waist and a head on your shoulder with a kiss to your neck.

"If this isn't my wonderful, amazing boyfriend than someone is getting punched." You said severely scared about whether or not it was Rafe.

"Don't be scared sweetheart, it's me." Rafe said with the sweetest little gravely sleepy voice that you've been in love with for two years.

"Okay. How you doing sleepyhead?" You ask him in a joking manner but also kinda serious about it and when he doesn't answer you get scared and confused. "Baby, are you okay?" You say turning around in his arms to find him asleep and using you as a form of balance. "Baby, time to wake up. Hello, Rafey?" You say in a soft voice not wanting to startle him.

He groans at your efforts and stands up straight, looks at you with the most sleepy eyes you've ever seen and for a split second you feel bad for waking him up but you quickly shake the thought when you decide to continue on with the snacks. After he realizes that you aren't going to treat him like the huge toddler he is he whines something that sounds like a muffled version of your name into the crook of your neck qnd when you don't respond he walks away to what you thought was your shared bedroom upstairs but oh how wrong you were.

"Okay, Wheeze, I've got some Goldfish, Swedish Fish, little fishing rods I made with pretzels and some sea creature fruit snacks...Rafe, I thought you went back upstairs." You say severely confused as to why your 6"2 boyfriend is splayed across the couch that you and his sister were previously chilling on watching a movie.

He looks up at you with sleepy eyes and your heart melted "not without you baby." he whined with the cutest little pout you have found nobody else could get out of him.

"Come on, Rafey. Time to go upstairs. I'll br back, Wheeze." You say helping Rafe stand up to the best of his current abilities. As soon an you get to your bedroom he falls into a deep slumber or so you thought when you went downstairs.

You thinking Rafe is asleep you sit back down with Wheezie and continue watching the movie that at this point you have missed half of so far because of Rafe wanting cuddles which you cannot give him you suddenly feel breathing on the back of your neck followed by "I'm so hard right now, babe." Whispered in your ear praying to God the Wheezie didn't hear.

"Rafe, please stop scaring me."

"Sorry, babe, you just look so good today" He says with an evil smile you're sure he had to muster up from the depths of his soul because not even ten minutes ago he was falling asleep on your shoulder.

"Hey, Wheeze, I'll be back in just a sec-" you try to say as you get cut off by Rafe pulling you to the other room. "Rafe! What are you doing?" You say rushed so he can't cut you off.

"Sorry, Love, I just wanted to say hi." He says with that signature Rafe smirk.

"You could have just said 'Hi, Babe.' Instead of saying what ever THAT was infront of your 13 year old sister. Don't you think?" You say obviously pissed at him for saying something like that infront of Wheezie.

"M'Sorry Love. Can I kiss you now?" He says with a sincere look that you're not sure you should believe because you know him like REALLY WELL.

"Fine. But only one." You say in a joking tone, one that you both know is fake.

"Okay, baby, whatever you say." He says closing the gap between the two of you not wanting you two to ever leave this moment. At the same time you hear a faint "Ewww, Get a room you two!" Behind you which you could only guess was Wheezie because Ward was at his office, Rose was out somewhere doing Lord knows what with the other Figure Eight Moms and Sarah was with the pogues so it kind of had to be her.

"Sorry, Love, I didn't want her to walk in." He said after pulling away just a bit.

You knew he was telling the truth and gave him a quick peck not knowing when Wheezie would give you two alone time.

"It's okay Rafey, I still love you." You mumble quickly trying to escape him knowing he would never actually let you go without him into the other room.

He looks at you with the cutest serious face he could muster up from the deepest part of his heart. "You better, because if you didn't that would have been a waste of time for both of us." He says somehow annoyingly deadpan.

You just roll your eyes at him because you just want to finish the movie with your boyfriend and his sister because at this point he won't leave you alone.

A/n #2: English IS my first language but I suck at it so I hope you understand also absolutely love this story and if you want more just lmk bc I always want more stuff to do.

Ask me if you want to be apart of my tag list

#rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe fluff #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe cameron #drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #rafe obx #obx rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fluff

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rambleonwithrosie · 8 months

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I genuinely believe the live action Cinderella is not only the best live action Disney has made but also it's one of the best films of the last 20 years period!

Gif credit: @omniavincitamor

Now there's many reasons for this but on my latest rewatch I was struck by how perfectly it balances between being a children's movie for little girls to watch at their pajama parties with friends and being the kind of movie like Pride and Prejudice that grown women sit together and drink wine while they watch and swoon over the hero and the dresses and cry at the emotional parts.

It is simultaneously a film any adult can appreciate while still capturing all of that wholesome childhood joy and Innocence. And Ella perfectly captured those two things too. She keeps her child's heart that believes in goodness and magic but also she's growing up. Lily played the part perfectly, all those little moments where she's kinda astonished by her proximity to the prince and what that's making her feel. She calls herself "just a girl" but she's also feeling woman feelings and her portrayal of growing up is really beautiful because it doesn't make it seem like a bad thing. So much media makes the end of childhood seem sad but Ella brings the best of childhood with her into her unfolding adulthood as we watch her grow up.

Also the foley artists/sound editing also did a MAGNIFICENT job with the sound effects. Because while they could have just had the sweeping score for the waltz with none of the ambient sound, instead you get all those swishes of the skirt and caught breaths which adds so much texture and intimacy to the dance. Like the sexual tension between Ella and Kit is at 11 in all the scenes at the ball and afterwards (Richard's blue eyes doing 80% of the work there) but it's still innocent. This isn't a children's film trying to "get away" with mature themes. It's the kind of film you could use to explain adult feelings to children coming up on puberty in a way that wouldn't make them feel shameful or dirty. It's Wholesome Sexual Tension. Which is something there is far too little of in modern cinema.

It's both a film for grown ups and a film for children and it didn't cut corners to accomplish both. It's equally both and they didn't kiddie-ify the adult parts like the abuse or the grown-up feelings Ella and Kit have for each other but nor did they try to make it an adult themed film. It is still a princess movie but it's one for grown ups as much or more than it is for little girls and that's beautiful. I for one find it deeply healing for my inner child and my adult self and I feel I'm not the only one.

Also the costuming is immaculate even on background characters with no speaking roles. Literally could not get better costumes. I could talk about this movie forever but I'll stop now and probably make more posts about it in future

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uncleclam · 9 months

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Ken x gn!reader / he wants to marry you so bad

Word count: 728

Rating: sfw

This stupid doll…

CAN'T STOP PROPOSING

Whatever is going on in his tiny little plastic brain, you never expect THIS to happen. He must have been watching way too much Netflix, you know cause when you check the watch history, he basically clicked all romance drama possible, ALL. This is concerning, a drop of sweat formed on your forehead as you see he also watched all princess movies on Disney plus, too. Is this why he keeps bringing that up? That he believed in ‘happily ever after’? Because that sounds like something ‘the Mattel dictionary’ totally would have.

It wasn’t you’re not ready, well, a part of you is definitely not ready, or something anti-marriage of you, because you have definitely thought about it, dreamed of it even, but the reality of having a lifelong commitment is something chased you away—-

Not in a bad way, but definitely not in KEN’s way.

Ken is your cute, clumsy, curious, sometimes annoying roommate. He is still learning about the real world, everything is new to him and he’s so eager to try all of them. You tried to provide the best for him, he’s your favorite doll after all, he has been there with you since you can remember(In a toy form, naked)! You treat him almost like a pet now, you love him of course! Just not in that way…

I want to live with you forever! I want to be your forever partner!

His voice echoes in your brain, it was so innocent and charming actually, his big blue eyes were like shining diamonds, begging you the same way he begged for an ice-cream, you almost said yes out of instinct. Time felt frozen to you, your eyes widened, lungs stopped working. Ken blinked and waited for your response.

‘What did you just say, Ken?’ You asked, wanting to reconfirm.

‘I want to marry you!’

‘Uhh…’ You paused, looking away slightly.

‘Can i?’ He sounded so enthusiastic, like always.

‘I'm afraid we cannot…’ You finally gathered the sentence and spoke it out, sighed, and petted Ken’s hand that had been on your shoulder.

‘Is it something expensive again? Like a double decker bus or a horse?’ Ken tilted his head, he was genuinely asking. He had asked you so many prices on different stuff, especially the stuff he wanted.

‘Not exactly, but-‘ you shuttered.

‘Then why can’t we get married?’ He asked again.

‘Because it needs promises, and promises are not easy.’ You explained, felt like describing the concept of algebra to a toddler. Ken actually paused and started thinking for a while.

———

For the first few days, he seemed upset and confused after you rejected him. The concept of marriage he googled is simply not that easy, you tried to explain to him but he didn’t say anything. You heard him sobbing on the sofa that night. After a week, he’s back to normal classic Ken again, but whenever he opens his mouth, it’s about marrying you.

‘What do you want for lunch?’

‘A wedding dress on you!’

‘Ken, will you pass me the sugar?’

‘I, Ken, take you to be my forever lover, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.’

A dramatic pause

‘I do.’ He vowed as he passed the sugar.

———

This has been 3 weeks now, about the marrying you thing, and he has no signs of giving that up. You wished you were a barbie so you wouldn’t have to care so much—- He even bought two of those Ring Pop where you can suck the candy while it stays on your finger. The candy itself is comically big. A red, cherry flavored for you, and a green, lime flavored for himself. He jogged his way to you, gently held your right hand up and pushed the ring down to the base of your third finger.

‘This doesn’t mean we are officially married—‘

‘I know.’ He looked up and smiled, putting on his own ring and licked on the sweetened crystal. Then He jogged away to look at other stuff while humming the wedding theme song.

He hasn’t taken off the finished plastic ring ever since, and so do you too.

#ryan gosling #ken #fanfiction #fanfic #ken x reader #sfw

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islxms · 2 months

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-ˏˋ⋆ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ︱ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄 ⋆ˊˎ-

𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑥 ☆ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ☆ 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

pairings - actor!aaronwarner x actress!femoc

summary - Kenji Kishimoto, your best friend, insisted that you audition for Dear Love, a romance series, as he didn't want to spend time there alone. After various pleas, you finally accepted the request.

warnings - none

words count - 1,948 words.

︳⋆ ⎙ 𝅄 𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖫𝖡𝖮𝖷 ﹎ hope you enjoy the first chapter, especially since it took me a while to start and finish, since I couldn't decide or think how to. I don't know how to feel about it, I hate it and love it. I promise the future ones will be better.

"Finally, ugh," I grumbled as the credits for Tangled rolled across the screen. Kenji had insisted on making me watch his favorite Disney movie again, and I was over it. This had to be the fifty-sixth time, on a fucking Friday! I could've done many things!

"Hey! Don't say that. Tangled is a masterpiece," he protested, flinging a pillow at me, which made me slip slightly on the couch.

"Yeah, sure," I said dryly, barely masking my irritation.

"I hate you," Kenji fake-pouted before storming off to the kitchen. Just like a little kid.

"So, are you going to audition for the new series or not?" Kenji changed the subject as he rummaged through the fridge. I knew he was after those damn Skittles he always devours at my place.

"I'm thinking about it," I replied, getting up from the couch and heading toward him. "But I heard it's a romance story, and I'm not keen on kissing anyone on screen." I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes as he finally pulled out the Skittles. "And if you keep raiding my stash, I might just stop buying them."

Kenji's eyes widened in mock horror as he clutched the candy to his chest. "How could you say that, Sunshine? I'm deeply hurt!" Despite his dramatics, he tore open the bag and started munching away.

"By the way, I'm in it too," he mumbled through a mouthful of Skittles.

I rolled my eyes. "Great. Just so you know, Kenji Kishimoto, I have zero plans of kissing you on set or out."

Kenji Kishimoto, my best friend and one of the few people I trusted, had a knack for making me laugh, even when I was at my lowest. He could pull me out of any funk with his jokes and relentless teasing. But despite his flirtations, I never saw him as more than a friend-something I could never admit to him since his ego was already larger than Asia, and the last thing I needed was to inflate it even further.

"Don't worry, you'll change your mind eventually," he said with a playful smirk, but his triumph was short-lived as I smacked him on the arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" he whined, rubbing his arm.

"For letting your stupid ego get the best of you again," I shot back with a grin.

Kenji pouted, rubbing his arm like it was injured. "You know, you could work on your people skills. Not everyone is as charming as me."

I rolled my eyes, leaning against the counter. "Charming? Is that what we're calling it now? Delusion suits you perfectly."

He ignored my jab and popped another Skittle into his mouth, grinning like he'd won. "So, if you're not planning to kiss anyone, what's stopping you from auditioning? You could just act."

"Acting involves more than just pretending," I said, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. "And romance isn't exactly my thing."

Kenji studied me, his playful demeanor softening. "You used to love the idea of being in love. What changed?"

I paused, taken aback by his sudden seriousness. He wasn't wrong. I used to be a hopeless romantic, dreaming of whirlwind love stories. But life had a funny way of turning those dreams into something else entirely.

"I grew up," I replied firmly. "Realized that not all stories end with a fairy tale."

Kenji frowned, searching my face. "You don't believe that, do you? That happiness isn't in the cards for you?"

I shrugged. "Let's just say I've become more realistic."

"Realism's overrated," Kenji said, leaning closer with a serious edge. "You're too young to give up on love. You should audition. Who knows? Maybe you'll have fun."

I met his gaze, a smile tugging at my lips. "Since when did you become such an optimist?"

He grinned, the mischievous spark back in his eyes. "I'm not. I just think you'd look great trying to resist falling for me on set."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"Impossible and irresistible," he corrected with a wink.

I sighed. "You know," I said, reaching for a Skittle from the bag still clutched in Kenji's hand, "if I audition and get the part, I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Kenji's grin widened. "No promises, Sunshine. But for you, I'll try."

Did I just sell my soul to the devil? Probably.

Kenji managed to drag me to the set I might be working on. He was practically bouncing with excitement as he led me through the studio doors, and I had to remind myself this was my choice even if it felt like I was being dragged.

"This is going to be great, trust me," Kenji said, flashing his trademark grin. "Castle's a good friend, and he's excited to meet you."

Castle-the director. Naturally, Kenji was on a first-name basis with him. He seemed to know everyone who mattered. We walked through the bustling set, with people rushing around and the constant hum of activity.

"If I'm being honest, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be," I admitted, glancing around. The set was impressive-detailed and alive, like the story was already coming to life.

Kenji shot me a triumphant look. "See? I told you. It's not all that scary."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't deny a small thrill of excitement starting to build.

As we continued our tour, Kenji pointed out different parts of the set, explaining what each was for and how they'd be used in the scenes. He was in his element, effortlessly charming everyone we passed.

When we finally reached Castle, he greeted Kenji with a warm hug and then turned to me with a welcoming smile. "So, this is the star Kenji's been talking about," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Glad to finally meet you."

I forced a confident smile. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Castle."

"Please, call me Castle," he replied, waving off the formality. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you can do. Kenji's been talking you up like you're the next big thing."

I shot Kenji a look, but he just shrugged, grinning like a cat that got the cream. "Just speaking the truth."

Castle laughed, clearly entertained. "Well, I can't wait to see you in action. I have a feeling you're going to bring something special to this project."

I wasn't sure how to respond to Castle's enthusiasm, so I just nodded, keeping my nerves in check. I loved acting, just like I loved watching romance movies, but being in one and living out those moments on screen made me jittery. The thought of kissing someone on screen, even though I'd done it before, still gave me chills. This felt different.

What are you even worrying about? It's just acting. Don't throw away your opportunities. You've done it many times before!

Perfect, now I'm talking to myself.

Audition for the movie and stop being an overdramatic baby.

I'm not!

Then why are you still thinking about whether you should audition?

...

"What are the available roles for Dear Love, again?" I asked, breaking the silence as we continued walking through the set.

Kenji turned to me with a grin, clearly pleased with my sudden interest. "Ah, so you're considering it, huh? Well, the lead role of Emma is still open, and a few supporting characters too. But I have to say, you'd make a great Emma."

I bit my lip, the character's description echoing in my mind. Strong-willed, independent, and hesitant to believe in love-qualities that matched mine. Could I step into Emma's shoes and bring her story to life?

Before I could second-guess myself, I glanced at Kenji and said, "Alright, let's do it. I'll audition for Emma."

Kenji's face lit up with excitement and pride. "That's the spirit, Sunshine! You're going to crush it."

The next morning, I sat in front of my vanity, staring at my reflection with a sense of purpose. My mind was racing with thoughts of the audition. I had agreed to try out for the role of Emma, and now that the reality of it was sinking in, I was ready to own it.

What if I'm not good enough? What if this role isn't for me? What if I completely mess it up?

I shook my head, dismissing the doubts. I had done this before-auditions, roles, the whole process. I was a pro, and I had the confidence to prove it. The thought of kissing someone on screen, while still nerve-wracking, wasn't going to stop me. I faced tougher challenges and came out on top.

Kenji's words from the previous day echoed in my mind. "You're going to crush it." He had so much faith in me, and I was ready to show him and everyone else what I was made of.

With a deep breath, I started getting ready, choosing an outfit that made me feel confident and powerful. It was just an audition, after all.

As I applied a touch of makeup, I rehearsed the lines I'd been practicing. I could feel Emma's character taking shape within me-her strength, her hesitance, her guarded heart. I related to her in many ways, and I was determined to bring her to life on screen.

When I arrived at the studio, my nerves were still buzzing, but I was focused. Kenji was waiting for me at the entrance, his usual grin plastered on his face.

"Ready to show them what you've got?" he asked, his tone teasing but supportive.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, forcing a confident smile.

We walked inside, surrounded by the buzz of activity. The studio was alive with the sounds of people preparing for their auditions, and the energy in the air was palpable.

Castle was chatting with a few other actors when he saw me. He waved me over with a warm smile. "Ms. Solans, great to see you again. Ready to give it your best shot?"

"Absolutely," I said, my voice steady and clear.

"Good. Just remember, have fun with it. Don't worry about being perfect-just be yourself," Castle advised, his words surprisingly comforting.

As I stepped into the audition room, the familiar lights and cameras in place, I felt a surge of determination. This was my world-acting, performing, and becoming someone else for a while. I had this.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I was Emma. The lines flowed naturally, and the emotions felt genuine. For those few minutes, I was fully immersed in the character's world, forgetting about everything else.

When I finished, there was a pause, followed by Castle's approving nod. "That was fantastic, Ms. Solans. You really brought Emma to life."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, the tension in my shoulders easing. "Thank you," I replied, my voice steady.

As I left the room, Kenji was waiting outside, his grin wider than ever. "I told you you'd crush it! You were amazing in there, Sunshine."

I couldn't help but laugh, the earlier nerves replaced with a sense of accomplishment. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

"See? I knew you could do it," Kenji said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Now, let's get out of here. I'm starving, and I'm sure you could use a break."

"I saw you munching a sandwich earlier," I said with a smirk.

"What? A star can't eat now?" He crossed his arms dramatically, giving me an exaggerated pout. I stared him down, and the facade crumbled into a playful smile.

"Fine," I said, laughing. "Let's go grab something to eat."

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mariclerc · 2 months

Note

I just came across your page after reading Antoine Griezmann's fic. And i really enjoyed the one you did and would love to see more abt him, so could you please write a fake dating like he's invited to a wedding and convince her to be his date and he realises that he actually likes her for real so he aske her out on real date

Thank you very much for this request!!! I find this topic quite funny and amusing. I hope you like it 🥰

Fake it till you make it | ag7

Summary: when you are in a fake relationship and eventually you and him explode. Warnings: none, just fluff i guess.

This thing of being in a kind of fake relationship has brought good things and, at the same time, bad things... Like, for example, you sometimes can't stand your designated "partner." And it's not because he's not a nice guy, because he really is a nice guy, like, he does his best to treat you like you deserve no matter what, no matter if he's also tired of this circus or the press, he treats you like such a gentleman, but it's totally unnecessary to fake something for mere publicity, at least in your opinion.

The publicity was good, you're not going to complain, especially for you who are an emerging model and you need this status of being in a relationship to attract the media attention... And what better way to do that than to go out with a famous footballer like Antoine Griezmann... It's not like he needed the publicity, but he accepted to be part of this kind of circus anyway.

Now, moving to the present, you are at his apartment, he's looking a little bit stressed and he's pacing across the living room like a mad man while you are lounging on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

You look up at him, a little bit bored. “Another wedding? Really, Griezmann?”

He stopped pacing, exasperated. “Hey, it's good for our image... And, besides, I couldn’t think of anyone else to bring.” He says while scratching the back of his neck.

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. The golden boy needs his arm candy, how funny is that?”

“It’s not like that, you know how it is... The fans, the press...” he said defensively.

You sighed. “I know, I know, the whole fake relationship charade, I get it clearly.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you stare at each other.

He sighed softly. “Look, I'm sorry... I know this is all a mess.”

You shrugged. “It's fine I guess.” you replied. “At least we're good at pretending for the cameras and stuff.”

Antoine walks over to the couch and sits beside you, taking your hand. “I wish it was real.”

You sighed softly. “Me too griz, me too.”

You two share a moment of awkward silence before bursting out laughing. One good thing about this whole farce is that you and him, despite everything, have a lot of fun and it's strange because you're "supposed" to hate each other... When in reality he is super kind to you and considerate and, in a way, you are like that with him too.

“Well, at least we can laugh and make fun about it.” you say while wiping away tears of laughing.

He smiled widely. “Yeah, we have each other to complain about this whole circus.”

You two relax, a comfortable silence settling between you two.

***

A couple of weeks later you finally attend the wedding. A grand, opulent wedding reception hall... The soft, romantic lighting adding a warm touch to the ambience of the party. Upbeat music fills the air, you and Antoine are on the dance floor, lost in the moment. Luckily for you two there weren't many people "interested" in your relationship, which was fine.

“Can you believe we're actually having fun? It's sooo cool!” He drawls while smiling, looking into your eyes. His blue eyes look so beautiful under the soft light of the hall, he looks like a real life prince, literally out of a Disney movie.

You laugh softly. “I know, right? Who would've thought!” You say while you dance and move your hair to the rhythm of the music.

You two continue to dance in a silly and funny way, the chemistry between the two of you is palpable in the room, well at least for the two of you it is. Suddenly, a slower song starts playing, echoing in the great hall, and Antoine pulls you closer to him. You blush, not knowing how to react to his closeness.

“You know? You look so stunning tonight.” he smiled softly at you. “Like a princess!” he whispered softly on your ear.

You blush subtly at his words. “Tha... Thank you! You don't look too bad yourself, Anto.” you replied softly.

You two shared a tender moment, your eyes locked into each others.

“You know, I've been thinking lately... about us.” he says hesitantly.

“About us?” you asked curiously.

He sighed. “Yeah, I mean, this whole fake relationship thing... it's been... complicated, I know it's tiring for both of us. But I'm sure that there's something real between us.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Griezmann... You're drunk, you know that?” you laugh nervously.

He rise up a brow, looking serious. “I'm a hundred percent sure that I'm completely sober, chérie.” he smiles tenderly at you, it's the first time he gives you a nickname, and it's... so cute coming from him. “I like you... A lot!” (darling)

You're speechless, your mind is racing. While it is true that you have had to fake a relationship for a couple of months, the reality is that you feel a certain attraction towards him and it is inevitable.

He takes a deep breath. “I know this is sudden, but I'd like to take you on a real date... A real one, just us.” he smiles. “We can be silly together and have fun, maybe we can just eat junk food at my place and stuff.” he giggles softly, oh boy, he's so adorable.

You look into his eyes, your heart pounding on your chest, your cheeks blush hard. “I think I'd like that!” you smile at him. “Being silly sounds like a good idea... Very suitable for us!” you giggled back at him.

Antoine smiles, relief washing over him. He pulls you in for a gentle and soft kiss... A kiss that, perhaps a couple of months ago, you didn't see coming, but that now feels so good and so right and good, everything feels meant to be.

You and Antoine pull away from the kiss, your faces flushed, your cheeks are burning red and his eyes sparkle so bright, it's such a cute scene.

“I think that just sealed the deal, chérie.” he smiles widely at you. (darling)

You giggled nervously. “I guess it did.” you two shared a tender look.

He intertwines your hand with his. “So, it's a real date, huh?”

You nod at the sight of your interwined hands. “Yup, it's a real date!” you giggled again.

You two smile, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation. As the music picks up again, Antoine pulls you back onto the dance floor, his arm around your waist while you lean your head on his shoulder, you close your eyes, a sense of contentment washing over you.

The rest of the evening is a blur of laughter, dancing, stolen glances and even a few kisses between the two of you. You both feel a newfound connection, a spark that ignites something special and sincere.

itsynuser

liked by mad4yu, cmpulisic, georginagio and others

itsynuser being silly and classy is our fav thing 2 do!! 😋🥰

tagged antogriezmann

see 5.728 comments

yourbff NO WAY‼️🫢 so the fake thing it's not fake anymore?!? 🫣

rodridepaul se veía venir 👀👀👀 (it was seen coming)

itsynuser shhhhh, you didn't see that coming 🔪

marcosllorente era inevitable 🤷🏻‍♂️ (it was inevitable)

itsynuser i hate you both 😠

mad4yu aww, I'm gonna cry 😭

itsynuser noooo yu 😭😭 don't cry

user1 it can not be true 🫢🫢🫢

koke6 cuando es la boda? 👉🏻👈🏻 (when is the wedding?)

antogriezmann eh? 🧍🏼🤨

itsynuser wtf are you talking about 🤨🤨 koke6

antogriezmann i love you so much mon petit soleil 🥰🥰🤍 (my little sunshine)

itsynuser okay okay now i'm crying 🥺😭 i love you too mon prince❤️🤍 (my prince)

antogriezmann noooo, don't cry amour 🥺🥺❤️

user2 omg they're the cutest!!! 🥺🥺

#football players x reader #antoine griezmann blurb #antoine griezmann fluff #antoine griezmann x reader #antoine x reader #antoine griezmann x you #antoine griezmann #football x you #football x reader #antoine x y/n #football x y/n #antoine x you #fake relationship #mariclerc fics

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

Text

rain and mint tea and rambles

Hi maggots. It's me, thinking thoughts, again. I do that far too often.

Monsoon has begun, I do believe. The stupefying heat wave broke to let water crash onto the soil, out of which puffs the scent of petrichor. Ever so often the heat builds in the day, but yields to a thunderstorm come nightfall. Perhaps it'll only last a few weeks, but I'm so glad anyway.

I made a mug of mint tea. By which I mean I dropped a teabag into hot water, in one of the five mugs Lina bought me. I was so delighted last night when the heat slowly revealed the images of a whale emoji, a photo of me edited with Crowley's eyes, and fanart of me that said happy birthday, maggot prince with the Spotify code of a playlist you all added songs to. It's been days since my birthday, but I still keep finding bits of love that you sent my way.

I love the playlist. It's as chaotic as we are. There's Cavetown and ABBA and Queen, Bollywood dance music and sad songs and rap, Taylor Swift and a Rickroll and silly songs and Disney soundtracks.

Everything looks different in the rain. The leaves lose their dusty shroud, glittering emerald and lime and quivering in the damp breeze. The light is quieter, softer, grey. It smells of life. The sky swirls with clouds like Van Gogh tried to make art but ran out of paint, with only the greyish paintwater left.

I'm sorry about all the DMs and asks I haven't replied to yet. I swear it's not because I care. It's because I care too much, I care so much that sometimes it overwhelms me. Please don't stop sending me asks because of that, though. I promise I do read them, even if it takes a while for me to reply. You aren't bothering me. You could never. I love you too much. Be as crazy as you like. It's me.

Weirdly enough, as I wrote that paragraph, Nothing New by Phoebe Bridgers and Taylor Swift played. "Are we only biding time 'til I lose your attention? And someone else lights up the room? People love an ingenue." "How do I go from growing up to breaking down? And I wake up in the middle of the night, it's like I can feel time moving. How can a person know everything at 18, and nothing at 22? Will you still want me, when I'm nothing new?"

It's difficult to believe I'm 20 now. That shouldn't be allowed. It's such a weird age, isn't it, 20? It's so, so young, it's so new, it's so terrifyingly timid.

I swear I knew more at 14 than I do now. I swear so many of you know so much more than I do. I don't know anything at all, most days. I don't know who I am. But you do. Thank you for bringing out not the best of me, not the worst of me, but the realest of me.

I love you. I got into art school, by the way. Life is not going the way I expected it to. And the horrors persist, trapping me in my dreams, suffocating me the way a pillow never could. But then I wake up and I think about you, and that keeps me going.

Look at you, saving a guy, every single day. How insanely wonderful.

The rain has stilled. My brother will be pleased, he bought a ticket to go to a cricket match. I think I'll go for a drive with my mum and Roxie. She loves drives. She knows them as 'car byebyes'. She sits on my lap in the front seat and looks out the window, nose sniffing and getting excited whenever I say look, a bow-wow and a dog passes.

I'll scoot now. If this long letter landed up on your dash and messed it up, I really do apologise, I try not to tag these. If you read it this far, then wow, hi. I love you. If you skipped to the end, I love you. If you don't read this, I love you. I love you all, so much.

I hope you have the loveliest of days.

I'll see you soon, maggots of mine.

#unravelling rambles

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allmightluver · 10 months

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Hey hi hello would you happen to have some toshi crumbs you'd be willing to share with the class? I'm hyperfixated on MHA again and I love him so so much.

Hehehe welcome back to Toshi Hell 😈

Hmm, some more head canons? I’m assuming that’s what you meant? If not let me know later but here’s one at least! (If you have a specific topic, I can do that too)

Toshinori is a bit of a Disney princess. By that I mean that animals are naturally drawn to him. They can sense his kind spirit and trust him easily, which comes in handy when you’re rescuing cats out of trees. Even wild animals can pick up on it.

Say he’s in a park feeding birds. Then one lands on his shoulder. He smiles at it but doesn’t move to shake it off. Then suddenly there’s another. And another. Until every inch of standing space is taken and he’s completely covered with birds all singing and whistling in his ears. They only leave when he stands from the bench to leave. But a few follow him and perch on his shoulders again as he walks.

This hasn’t changed with his declining health. One of the few things that remained the same. Even though his outward appearance is half-hazard at best, nature doesn’t treat him any different. They still see his heart. His soul.

No life is better than another. Whether you’re a mighty cedar standing tall in the forest or a tiny caterpillar just emerging from its egg. Every life has meaning and value. Toshinori deeply believes that. Unless you’re a mosquito. He’d be the one in the alleyway feeding a mother cat his leftovers so she in turn can feed her kittens. He never eats much, and the portions at restaurants are way too big for him. He could take them home and eat them later, but if he finds a hungry stray along the way, then his leftovers are put to better use.

Knowing him, he probably funds several animal shelters and humane societies when possible. Maybe he pays for an expensive surgery for a family dog. Or maybe he goes out and purchases food by the truckload for the animals. Buys more land to expand the shelters, wildlife/nature reserves, Etc.

Toshinori would love a pet, but he worries he wouldn’t have time for it. Or be able to say no to any animal on his doorstep. Especially with his health and problems that arise. They should be with a loving family that can give them the attention they need. That doesn’t stop people’s pets from seeking him out while walking on the street or visiting someone’s home.

In his old age, he loves to visit nature reserves and garden centers. Sitting on a bench on a pathway through the woods, he’s visited by the creatures of the forest who never seem to see him as a threat. He can heal almost any plant, and then gives them to a good home. (He can’t keep all of them).

Wherever Toshi goes, there’s always a trail of animals following close behind him.

#lover talks #ask me #anon #all might #toshinori yagi #yagi toshinori #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #headcanon #headcanons #head canon #head canons #I can never remember how I label them lol

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dannystheone · 2 months

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Welcome home!!! So exciting to hear from you again!

Can I ask what your South Park fic is going to be? Who’s the lee/ler?

Thank you so much! I still can't believe it lmao

Sure! I decided to just put the fic here lol

I had this idea over deployment and I kicked myself cause why didn't I think of it before lol

Here is the mash-up song that is referenced in the fic! I know super last year LMAO stop I haven't been here

youtube

also sorry if my formatting is weird and my writing is rusty it's obviously been a while but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)

WARNINGS: Cursing, references to SH (self harm) and drinking

Which Song? (Lee/Ler Jersey Shore Kyle/ Lee/Ler Goth Stan) (aged up)

Jersey Shore!Kyle and Goth!Stan are having a sleepover and decided to pull out the karaoke for this one! But which song can they agree on despite their differing tastes?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Stan. Stan- Stan. Watch me." Stan looked up begrudgingly to Kyle with one pierced eyebrow raised expectantly. Well, it was a stud glued on to his skin, but he would never admit it. Stan watched as Kyle flipped his black cap backward on his head and donned stylish black shades.

Kyle adopted a stance that showed off his lean yet toned torso and picked up his phone to start taking selfies. Wearing a tight white tank top and Elmo pajama bottoms that hung off his hips, Stan was his complete opposite dressed in all baggy blacks and grays.

"What? I'm watching you make thirst traps? You're gross." Stan rolled his eyes and looked back down at his phone. Alt TikTok was his current addiction. Anyone who danced on Tik-Tok like mindless zombies were posers.

Kyle snorted at his best friend and crossed the room to throw his arm over Stan's shoulders and snapped a photo. It came out blurry as Stan struggled in his grip.

"Ah come on Stan, you're no fun anymore. Come on, you can sing with me." Stan shoved Kyle off as Kyle was already moving to the karaoke machine. Kyle pressed a button on the machine that booted up a song immediately. Kyle tipped his shades down to look at Stan with green-tinted eyes as he pointed at Stan with one hand and held a microphone with his other as the first notes of his song began to play. Stan rolled his eyes once more as he scratched near his eyelid, shedding black eyeshadow in the process.

"Hey, baby girl, what you doin' tonight? I wanna see what you got in stooore~ Giving it your all when you're dancing on me-" Kyle rocked his hips in tune with the music which Stan stifled both a groan and a blush at the same time at that; very confusing.

-"I wanna see if you can gimme some more~ You can be my girl and I can be your man, and we can pump this jam however you waaant~ Pump it from the side pump it upside down-" Kyle lifted one leg onto the couch and started humping the air in tune to the song, to which Stan stood up abruptly and crashed into him to get him to stop.

"Alright alright alright! Quit it!" Stan clicked a button on the machine that paused the song, silence filling its place. Kyle tsked, disappointed as he threw his arms up.

"Dude it was getting good, what the fuck?! Turn it back on." Kyle pressed the button to turn the song back on, but the machine didn't respond. Kyle pressed it a few more times, to no avail, and kicked it out of frustration. "This shit's gahbage. Need to get a new one, it's been acting up lately."

"Or the machine just doesn't want to play your shitty-ass song. Here, I'll show you what real music is. Not this disgusting Disney pop trash." Stan programmed the machine to play a new song, and snagged the microphone from Kyle, but not without a flirtatious wink from Kyle first. Stan's cheeks burned an uncharacteristic red as the first few notes of the song began to play. He began to sing.

"Hey scene slut, I'm still cutting tonight. That's why my wrists are so sooore~" Kyle gave Stan a bewildered look as Stan kept going.

"I know you got a boyfriend, but you're a whore. Everybody drinking, shot glasses on the floor. We be clubbing all night, gimme some more-" Now it was Kyle's turn to shut off the machine. Stan petered out the last few words without the song's help and whirled around to face Kyle.

"Hey, what the hell? It was getting to the good part!" Stan asked angrily. Kyle put his hands on his hips and motioned to Stan.

"You call that music? They're talking about cutting themselves and whores for Christ's sake!" Kyle rose his voice while adjusting his shades, which riled Stan up as well.

"What about your song with you humping the damn air? That's not inappropriate?! Turn it back on, I said." Stan reached to turn the music back on the machine, but Kyle gripped his wrist before he could make it. Stan attempted to wrench his hand back but Kyle kept a firm hold on him.

"Hell no. We either listen to my music or not. I'm not catching your depression from your emo My Chemical Romance crap." That was Stan's final straw. With a growl, Stan launched himself at Kyle and took him to the floor. Kyle's shades and cap were knocked off his head as Stan straddled his hips. Stan knew he'd have to take the advantage as soon as possible because he did NOT have a physical advantage over Kyle. It was a part of the Jersey aesthetic for men to be ripped, and Kyle was indeed that while Stan was...not.

So Stan tore down Kyle's defenses the only way he knew how. Stan started scribbling his fingers in between the spaces of Kyle's lower ribs and sides; Kyle already bubbling up in laughter as he wriggled on the carpet.

"My music is not Emo you wanna-be Jersey Shore copycat. It's better than anything you've ever played!" Stan yelled, his black lipstick staining the corners of his mouth. It's been a while since he touched up his makeup, but that would have to wait. He would have to teach this lesson to Kyle quick before he tried any retaliation.

Kyle's red hair splayed on the carpet as he laughed and tried to grab Stan's wrists. "Pffmt- Stahahan! Stohohop thahat!" Funnily enough, in his laughing fit, his Jersey accent mysteriously disappeared. Kyle's eyes squinted as his smile took up his face; Stan's hand spidering his hard stomach. How could he have this many abs and still be so sensitive, Stan thought distantly.

"No, this is the only way you'll listen. You're not only calling my music Emo, but you also called it crap." Stan's next point was drowned out by Kyle's outpour of laughter as Stan kneaded an exceptionally mean thumb in Kyle's bare hip divet. Wearing his pajama pants so low had its consequences. Kyle's eyes were screwed shut as he was temporarily too weak to fight back."STAhahahan! Gehehehet ohohohoff!" Kyle yelled out and wriggled like a worm on a hook.

"Hmph, your fault for wearing your pants so low. I mean, who does that? It's like you're asking for this to happen. This is why your music and fashion tastes are questionable at best. See, if you would pay attention to any of the Goth Tiktoks I send you, we'd agree a lot more often." Stan grew way too comfortable with the situation in his position. He attempted to hold both of Kyle's wrists in one of his hands, which Kyle easily broke out of.

Kyle's hand shot out to start squeezing the closest part of Stan to him. It was Stan's knee that was exposed through his baggy jeans. Stan yelped and folded to the side, crumbling easily. Kyle popped up and dove in, causing Stan to shriek. Kyle's face was flushed and his curls bounced around his forehead while his fingers squished and kneaded into his best friend.

"W-Wahahait wahait waihait! No nohoho no I'm SAH-! I'm sohohohrry!" Stan fought to bring his knees up to his belly to protect himself, but Kyle found weak spots all over him. He squished Stan's sides, which made Stan cover his sides, and when his hands were out of the way he kneaded into his hips, causing him to squeal.

"Oh, talk about my accent leaving? You raised 3 octaves in your voice! I've never heard you so loud. You know maybe if you spoke up more often, I'd actually care about your opinion on my tastes." Kyle swung a leg around Stan's thighs to force one of them down and attacked his belly with one hand. Stan's tummy was definitely softer than Kyle's, with some chub around his belly button. Which just so happens to be ridiculously ticklish. Stan yelped as Kyle repeatedly squished the patch of chub over and over again.

"KYhyhyhyhle! Stohohohop stohohop stop! Nohohot thehehere!" Kyle was unfazed at his best friend's reaction. He knew when Stan really needed it to stop, and he wasn't nearly there yet.

"Huh, I wonder what would happen if I recorded this and sent it to your uppity black-clothed douchebag friends. You think they would kick you out of their dick-sucking club- GAH!" Stan didn't know how he did it, but he managed to wrench his grip out of Kyle's hold and shoved his hand up Kyle's armpit and started to scribble.

"Youhohohou ahahahasshole! Gehehehet ohohout of thehehere!" Kyle winced as Stan rose higher and shook his hand in the sensitive spot.

"Yeah? Well what if I recorded this and sent it to your orange spray-tanned "5-seconds-of-fame" seeking asshole friends and show them what a poser you are? I'm sure anyone THIS incredibly ticklish couldn't fit in-" Kyle reached forward and gripped Stan's hip and started to knead. Stan fell backward on the carpet of the living room like a felled tree. Kyle smirked at how easy it was to disarm his friend.

"You're one to talk aren't you, huh Cabbage? Well, you won't be talking in a second." Kyle's chain escaped his tank top as he thrust forward and started squishing into Stan's belly. Stan shrieked a manly sound as he started to curl up into his defensive ball.

"Shuhu-ahahaha! Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup!" Stan yelled out. Kyle snorted at Stan's attempt at being intimidating. Stan reached out and did what he could. Kyle's chain glinted in his eye as he grabbed the cross and yanked it off Kyle's neck. Stan kept it in a tight grip in his fist and raised it above his head.

Now it was Kyle's turn to roll his eyes as he simply started scratching his fingers in Stan's armpit. Stan instinctively shot his elbow down to save himself as Kyle attempted to pry his fingers open.

"Give that back asshole! It's my only Ed Hardy chain!" As Kyle was distracted trying to get his chain back, Stan reached forward and scribbled his fingers in Kyle's ribs. Kyle winced as he tried his hardest to ignore it, but he couldn't ignore his side getting squished. Kyle let go of Stan's hand and angrily squished Stan's kneecap to get back at him, to which Stan yelped and kicked his leg out reflexively. His Converse-covered foot kicked the glitchy karaoke machine.

Both Stan and Kyle stopped respectively at the loud clank; their hearts beating wildly in their chests. The machine made some whirring sounds, like recording and re-recording and wires getting crossed. Suddenly, a song started to play. The last two songs that were recently played on the machine glitched into one melody.

"Hey baby girl what you doin' tonight?"

"Hey scene slut, I'm still cutting tonight."

"I wanna see what you got in stooore~"

"That's why my wrists are so sooore~"

Kyle looked to Stan; his makeup smeared and his hair tousled. He lost his beanie somewhere in the fight. Stan looked to Kyle, his tank top half drug up and his hair a mess. Stan silently handed Kyle over his chain and shrugged his shoulders.

"This song actually..." Stan started.

"...sounds pretty fucking good." Kyle finished. They both smirked at each other, everything wordlessly forgiven as it always was since they were kids, and picked up the microphone, where they proceeded to sing their hearts out for the rest of the night.

#south park #south park tickles #goth!stan #jersey!kyle #stan marsh #lee stan marsh #ler stan marsh #kyle brovlofski #lee kyle broflovski #ler kyle broflovski #lee stan #ler stan #lee kyle #ler kyle

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