#because you signed up for this so you deal with it. it’s so mean to punish someone for something they can’t control
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Amazon illegally interferes with an historic UK warehouse election
I'm in to TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (Monday, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).
Amazon is very good at everything it does, including being very bad at the things it doesn't want to do. Take signing up for Prime: nothing could be simpler. The company has built a greased slide from Prime-curiosity to Prime-confirmed that is the envy of every UX designer.
But unsubscribing from Prime? That's a fucking nightmare. Somehow the company that can easily figure out how to sign up for a service is totally baffled when it comes to making it just as easy to leave. Now, there's two possibilities here: either Amazon's UX competence is a kind of erratic freak tide that sweeps in at unpredictable intervals and hits these unbelievable high-water marks, or the company just doesn't want to let you leave.
To investigate this question, let's consider a parallel: Black Flag's Roach Motel. This is an icon of American design, a little brown cardboard box that is saturated in irresistibly delicious (to cockroaches, at least) pheromones. These powerful scents make it admirably easy for all the roaches in your home to locate your Roach Motel and enter it.
But the interior of the Roach Motel is also coated in a sticky glue. Once roaches enter the motel, their legs and bodies brush up against this glue and become hopeless mired in it. A roach can't leave – not without tearing off its own legs.
It's possible that Black Flag made a mistake here. Maybe they wanted to make it just as easy for a roach to leave as it is to enter. If that seems improbable to you, well, you're right. We don't even have to speculate, we can just refer to Black Flag's slogan for Roach Motel: "Roaches check in, but they don't check out."
It's intentional, and we know that because they told us so.
Back to Amazon and Prime. Was it some oversight that cause the company make it so marvelously painless to sign up for Prime, but such a titanic pain in the ass to leave? Again, no speculation is required, because Amazon's executives exchanged a mountain of internal memos in which this is identified as a deliberate strategy, by which they deliberately chose to trick people into signing up for Prime and then hid the means of leaving Prime. Prime is a Roach Motel: users check in, but they don't check out:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/
When it benefits Amazon, they are obsessive – "relentless" (Bezos's original for the company) – about user friendliness. They value ease of use so highly that they even patented "one click checkout" – the incredibly obvious idea that a company that stores your shipping address and credit card could let you buy something with a single click:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1-Click#Patent
But when it benefits Amazon to place obstacles in our way, they are even more relentless in inventing new forms of fuckery, spiteful little landmines they strew in our path. Just look at how Amazon deals with unionization efforts in its warehouses.
Amazon's relentless union-busting spans a wide diversity of tactics. On the one hand, they cook up media narratives to smear organizers, invoking racist dog-whistles to discredit workers who want a better deal:
https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/amazon-chris-smalls-smart-articulate-leaked-memo
On the other hand, they collude with federal agencies to make workers afraid that their secret ballots will be visible to their bosses, exposing them to retaliation:
https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/amazon-violated-labor-law-alabama-union-election-labor-official-finds-rcna1582
They hold Cultural Revolution-style forced indoctrination meetings where they illegally threaten workers with punishment for voting in favor of their union:
https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/business/economy/amazon-union-staten-island-nlrb.html
And they fire Amazon tech workers who express solidarity with warehouse workers:
https://www.cbsnews.com/news/amazon-fires-tech-employees-workers-criticism-warehouse-climate-policies/
But all this is high-touch, labor-intensive fuckery. Amazon, as we know, loves automation, and so it automates much of its union-busting: for example, it created an employee chat app that refused to deliver any message containing words like "fairness" or "grievance":
https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak
Amazon also invents implausible corporate fictions that allow it to terminate entire sections of its workforce for trying to unionize, by maintaining the tormented pretense that these workers, who wear Amazon uniforms, drive Amazon trucks, deliver Amazon packages, and are tracked by Amazon down to the movements of their eyeballs, are, in fact, not Amazon employees:
https://www.wired.com/story/his-drivers-unionized-then-amazon-tried-to-terminate-his-contract/
These workers have plenty of cause to want to unionize. Amazon warehouses are sources of grueling torment. Take "megacycling," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM that workers are plunged into without warning or the right to refuse. This isn't just a night shift – it's a night shift that makes it impossible to care for your children or maintain any kind of normal life.
Then there's Jeff Bezos's war on his workers' kidneys. Amazon warehouse workers and drivers notoriously have to pee in bottles, because they are monitored by algorithms that dock their pay for taking bathroom breaks. The road to Amazon's warehouse in Coventry, England is littered with sealed bottles of driver piss, defenestrated by drivers before they reach the depot inspection site.
There's so much piss on the side of the Coventry road that the prankster Oobah Butler was able to collect it, decant it into bottles, and market it on Amazon as an energy beverage called "Bitter Lemon Release Energy," where it briefly became Amazon's bestselling energy drink:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon
(Butler promises that he didn't actually ship any bottled piss to people who weren't in on the gag – but let's just pause here and note how weird it is that a guy who hates our kidneys as much as Jeff Bezos built and flies a penis-shaped rocket.)
Butler also secretly joined the surge of 1,000 workers that Amazon hired for the Coventry warehouse in advance of a union vote, with the hope of diluting the yes side of that vote and forestall the union. Amazon displayed more of its famously selective competence here, spotting Butler and firing him in short order, while totally failing to notice that he was marketing bottles of driver piss as a bitter lemon drink on Amazon's retail platform.
After a long fight, Amazon's Coventry workers are finally getting their union vote, thanks to the GMB union's hard fought battle at the Central Arbitration Committee:
https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/04/26/amazon-warehouse-workers-in-coventry-will-vote-on-trade-union-recognition/
And right on schedule, Amazon has once again discovered its incredible facility for ease-of-use. The company has blanketed its shop floor with radioactively illegal "one click to quit the union" QR codes. When a worker aims their phones at the code and clicks the link, the system auto-generates a letter resigning the worker from their union.
As noted, this is totally illegal. English law bans employers from "making an offer to an employee for the sole or main purpose of inducing workers not to be members of an independent trade union, take part in its activities, or make use of its services."
Now, legal or not, this may strike you as a benign intervention on Amazon's part. Why shouldn't it be easy for workers to choose how they are represented in their workplaces? But the one-click system is only half of Amazon's illegal union-busting: the other half is delivered by its managers, who have cornered workers on the shop floor and ordered them to quit their union, threatening them with workplace retaliation if they don't.
This is in addition to more forced "captive audience" meetings where workers are bombarded with lies about what life in an union shop is like.
Again, the contrast couldn't be more stark. If you want to quit a union, Amazon makes this as easy as joining Prime. But if you want to join a union, Amazon makes that even harder than quitting Prime. Amazon has the same attitude to its workers and its customers: they see us all as a resource to be extracted, and have no qualms about tricking or even intimidating us into doing what's best for Amazon, at the expense of our own interests.
The campaigning law-firm Foxglove is representing five of Amazon's Coventry workers. They're doing the lord's work:
https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/05/02/legal-challenge-to-amazon-uks-new-one-click-to-quit-the-union-tool/
All this highlights the increasing divergence between the UK and the US when it comes to labor rights. Under the Biden Administration, @NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo has promulgated a rule that grants a union automatic recognition if the boss does anything to interfere with a union election:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth
In other words, if Amazon tries these tactics in the USA now, their union will be immediately recognized. Abruzzo has installed an ultra-sensitive tilt-sensor in America's union elections, and if Bezos or his class allies so much as sneeze in the direction of their workers' democratic rights, they automatically lose.
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/2024/05/06/one-click-to-quit-the-union/#foxglove
Image:
Isabela.Zanella (modified)
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ballot-box-2.jpg
CC BY-SA 4.0
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en
#pluralistic#unions#coventry#amazon#union busting#qr codes#foxglove#one click to quit the union#labor#gwb
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Can you explain what's the deal with Val's mother rosary?
OOOHHHH SURE I'm actually dying to do this since it was not possible to do in text!
(For the record, anon refers to this fic of mine but tl;dr when Valentino spawned in Hell he was holding his mother's rosary. He threw it away multiple times but it keeps reappearing.)
Basically, like Val said, his mother prayed a lot for him. She didn't want him to turn out like her abusive husband, so she prayed that he'd somehow avoid following the seemingly inevitable path of evil (she pretty much knew there was a slim chance he wouldn't get recruited by the cartel). But it didn't work. She was killed too early to even try raising him to be a better man. However, even in heaven, she kept praying, hoping to grant him some saving grace for all the awful things he was doing. But it wasn't enough. Val never even tried to redeem himself, and after death, he ended up in hell.
Okay, so here's where my Catholic upbringing kicks in: there's this belief that prayers can help souls in purgatory get to heaven. And while I might not be the most religious person, I'm a sucker for themes of maternal love and angst. So, the rosary becomes a tangible symbol of Val's mother's faith, powered by divine magic. Val himself has no clue about it, but it's essentially his ticket to heaven. Not a free pass, mind you, but a sign that his otherwise irredeemable acts could be forgiven if he changes his ways, because his mother spent her life, and even afterlife, fighting for his soul. It's more of a reward for her than for him. And that's the tragic part: Valentino will never seize this opportunity. I mean, there's no instruction manual attached, so he doesn't really know what the rosary is supposed to do. But every time he holds it, he recalls what his mother wanted for him and how much she cared. Deep down, he gets what he's expected to do, but unaware of the potential reward, he rejects the chance every single time. Because he's truly twisted, irredeemable, always opting for evil if it benefits him. And I like making myself sad with the idea that there's still someone having so much faith in him.
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Gregariousness (Geo x Sociable and Loud! MC/Reader)
For @ch1mmichurry! Hope you enjoy Anon! :]
- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer
Gregariousness: the quality of enjoying the company of other people.
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Geo…well…to say he resents noise would be an understatement.
He prefers solitude, silence, serenity. You, on the other hand, are the opposite of all 3.
You’ve always been the life of the party, the one willing to perform stupid stunts or sing karaoke because…as you quote: “Why not.”
You remind him way too much of Deryl, which he also doesn’t appreciate, but hey, you’re friends with his friends, so he’s got to deal with you.
Only starts warming up once he realises you’re not an obnoxious little shit.
When you befriend the others, and start trying to talk to him (his attempts at intimidation only put a small dent into your confidence, unfortunately); he’ll tell you to shut up.
Plot twist, you don’t.
In fact, you make it a goal to try and talk to him.
“Geode! How’re you doin’?”
“Piss off.”
Until the day he actually gets angry at you (mostly for existing).
Then you get crushed into smithereens a smidge upset and stop trying to get him to warm up (dw you’ve got Deryl and Crowe for emotional support).
But he got so used to it he honestly misses it (to his disdain).
So he starts anonymously sending you gifts, and learns to play the songs you like (in secret, obviously)
Will claim he ‘happened upon them’ if he ends up playing near you at some point (idek maybe their school have a theatre or smth???)
Anyway, eventually decides he’s fond of you (Geo thinking he’s fond of you actually means he *really* likes you btw)
Will approach you every now and then (he’s gotta worm his way in first, like you did to him), to the stage where he’ll just ‘coincidentally’ be in the same spots as you.
To him, you’re like a beam of bright light that sears away at the walls he’s built up over several years, and part of him yearns for said walls to fall. (Sadly that part of him is teensy small and it’ll take a long time for him to fully open up)
Doesn’t actively attempt to murder you if you call him Geode after a while, as long as Deryl doesn’t find out. Then he totally would.
If you’re more physically affectionate, he’ll rarely let you give him headpats. He’ll pretend he fucking hates them, but by this point you know him too well.
Doesn’t exactly understand why you need to socialise so often, but he won’t stop you…he simply wants to know:
Who you’re with.
Where you are.
What you’re doing.
Are there people he resents there.
Are you going to drink.
And that’s him being lenient.
Seems to be the most nonchalant mf ever, but trust me, if he ends up liking you, he’ll end up stalking observing you, ensuring you’re safe and making sure to swoop in as soon as he decides you’ve talked to enough people that day.
Essentially, he won’t be fond of the need for interaction (isn’t he more than enough?) but he’ll last. He likes his alone time, after all.
You both agree to try and improve (you talk quieter around him, he tries to be a tad warmer), and, if this mutually beneficial relationship situationship works out, well. He’ll appreciate it.
The fact you - despite still being a walking, talking megaphone - still actively make an effort is good for him; he has patience, he can wait as long as both sides show commitment to the cause.
Will ask you out at the end of school, so if he you died of happiness, no nosy shitbiscuits will try and pull something. (I think he is the type to believe in the Evil Eye, at least somewhat)
Because albeit your nature, people adore you…or hate you, but you don’t care.
So yes, Geode does lov- appreciate you. And will continue to do so. For the rest of his life. What can he do? He’s in love with very fond of you!
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A/N: Gonna work on a set of headcanons/short story oneshots for a...pretty angsty idea I had. (I love angst so much it's a tad concering actually)...but no matter! Send requests my way, I'm more than happy to oblige with requests. :]]
#geo subaru oogami#reminder that geo is superior#geo oogami#tkatb#the kid at the back#deryl helianthus#geode oogami#make that a fucking tag#subaru geode oogami#geode ideology#spread it#like you spread butter on bread#it must be done#but uh enjoy#teehee#also ch1mmi if you want me to make you anonymous I will do so asap.#tkatb_vn#tkatb vn
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On another note since I can't find my Okami game and before my brain can keep blowing it out of proportion (who cares if the disk is gone is saves to the Wii console not the fucking disk calm your tits brain I can still be a Pomeranian for shits and giggles if I want fuck you) I've been thinking about the Staffbot situation again...
Fucking hell was the staff party actually to round them up and kill the human staff?? Why??? For what purpose??? Were the Staffbots essentially just overcomplicated remote control cars with no AI built in so they used these people as the AI??? Do they want revenge??? Freedom??? Death??? Will they ever get it??? Where did their bodies go??? How has no one noticed so many missing people??? How would you even free them??? Fire??? Some sort of master controller that's preventing their souls from moving on??? Can Roxy see them???
That whole situation is wild and it feels so over the top given everything else that's happening. Like, bro, do we really need more shit happening??? Come on...
#yes my brain has been cooking some spooky ghost shit where Roxy is fucking HAUNTED by these guys#why?? because she has special eyes. she can't actually see what's wrong but looking at them too long makes her whole head spin#but all they know is she can see SOMETHING please oh PLEASE remember them please set them free she's the only one that can see#and so her ass is HAUNTED and she's losing her god damn mind cause are you KIDDING???#as if she doesn't have ENOUGH to deal with????#first storyteller then glitchtrap now this?? ON TOP of mimic???? fucks sake she's NOT paid enough for this#it's WILD to me because like. it looks like I'm being all 'haha blorbo has to deal with EVERYTHING' but think about it#if anyone would know what's going on or that something's wrong or be able to see what Fazbear doesn't want them to...#it's gonna be Roxy.#canonically a part of the MXES security system. canonically can see through walls talks to herself and stares at people through them#has a 'fuck you I know what I'm doing' attitude too?? yeah she's burdened with knowledge. it makes sense!#AND there's Vanny I forgot about that I just sorta categorise her with Glitch but they're separate entities I keep forgetting#like come on no wonder she's obsessed with winning if she loses someone's probably gonna die#but the insane part is that not only did she not sign up for this#neither did fucking Fazbear who gave her this ability to see everything#they were like 'hurdurdurdur guard mimic wurrburdurrr'#and then gave her the ability to see all the other fucked up shit and they thought 'well that's not her job she won't care'#and then OBVIOUSLY she DOES care what the FUCK do you MEAN she WOULDN'T care about fucking DEAD BODIES#are you JOKING#ya know??? yeah#it's insane#ya girl is DROWNING
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there’s rats in my kitchen but i want something from my fridge
#peach rambles#sorry my life is falling apart and i feel the need to tell people about it#this is a good time to say that most shit under the peach rambles tag is not stuff to reply to or offer advice on#(peach stuff is a different tag with stuff i actually may care for people see)#anyway yeah ive been suspecting my house has had rats for a while but ive been. turning a blind eye to the signs because frankly that’s#just another problem for me to have to figure out how to solve and it’s always a pain dealing with my landlord so it’s like.#whatever. ya know? anyway earlier i went to get a drink from the fridge and .#there was a scrambling noise by the oven (right next to the fridge) and i looked over to see .#a rat bottom (not NOT large) squeezing it’s way up between the wall and the bottom of the microwave (a space i did not know existed)#i saw it’s feet. it’s tail. it was in fact a rat. not a mouse . alive#and then there was more scrambling sounds from behind the oven and#it’s important to keep in mind that i watched this happen in complete silence. like it didn’t take long for the rat to disappear from sight#but i definitely 1) saw the rat 2) froze in my tracks 3) watched the rat disappear 4) stood in defeated silence (w/ rat scrambling noises)#i finished my drink and want another but that means going back to the kitchen . the rats are there (they are possibly everywhere but#Rather Not. you understand)#i am going to get another drink i did text my landlord all is well. i just. don’t want to see another rat butt#anyway . if you’ve been wondering why im not very active or why i haven’t watched/talked about s5 of ml#it’s because my life is falling apart and now there are rats in my house. there may have been rats in my house this whole time#hope this helps<3
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night shift ? if u don’t mind me asking what do u do .. [ without ig being too revealing lol . im looking for a new job ]
ah! It’s part time at a hotel/motel, I just kinda sit there and take care of any issues a guest might have/check them in/watch cameras… but at night it is kind of just sitting there cause most people are sleepin lmao, then the rest of the week I just work on commissions and other art projects :-] <3
#it’s the worlds chillest job and somehow the most stressful also#because the guests… you never know what you’re gonna get#like anything where you’re dealing w customers it’s always a mixed bag lmao#callate guero#replies#anonymous#some people like are straight up horrible… like pounding on glass and yelling at you for not letting them check in even tho every sign in#the office says you NEED an ID/passport/etc to check in#like it’s just wild#luckily I haven’t had to deal w too many mean people#but my coworker who has a thicker accent and so people have trouble understanding her sometimes#people will like cuss her out and shit just for being really strict and thorough at her job#like it’s crazy#anyways
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(Let the record show that I am not posting this in the wake of a mass shooting getting national attention. I expect it may get spikes during those times, but I, OP, am posting this in early July 2022)
Stop saying mass shootings are a mental health issue. This is something that’s difficult for people on EITHER side of the debate to get. Every time a tragedy like this happens, the reports flock to a dangerous mentally ill person for whom everyone should’ve seen the warning signs earlier. Even if it’s acknowledged that there was extremism at play, it’s normally painted as someone whose mental illness was taken advantage of and exploited by extremist groups
And I know. I know it’s easier to have something to blame. We want to think that it’s something no “normal” person could do, that the only way a human could do that is if they were sick or had something wrong with them. But this isn’t true and it isn’t helpful
These are not done because the person was mentally ill. There are mentally ill people all around you. There are SCARY mentally ill people all around you, the people with “sociopathy/psychopathy,” the ones who don’t have empathy, the ones who hear voices telling them to do bad things. One out of every hundred people in the US is diagnosed with schizophrenia - for context, statistically that means a “small” college lecture hall could have multiple schizophrenic students. They’re your friends and neighbors. They’re people you never would’ve guessed. And they’re not committing atrocities. People with serious mental illness are discriminated against and unjustly incarcerated and are much more frequently targets of violence, both interpersonal and systemic
We DO need better mental health care. But mass shootings are not a mental health issue. They are overwhelmingly a bigotry and extremism issue. We can talk about how mentally ill people are targeted, exploited, and more vulnerable to extremist groups and cults, but mental illness is not why shootings happen. Human beings just like you without any mental illness are capable of committing horrible acts
And as a side note? Anticipating the number of people who will be in the notes saying that simply being able to commit an act like that is evidence of mental illness: that’s circular logic. You can’t claim that people commit atrocities because they’re mentally ill and that they’re mentally ill because they commit atrocities. Cherry-picking bits of DSM criteria - low empathy, issues reasoning, grandiosity - is also erasing the millions of people who have those things and do not commit horrific acts. Mentally ill people can commit horrible acts due to their mental illness, but mental illness is not the explanation for mass shootings
And if not being horrible toward mentally ill people isn’t a good enough reason for you, consider this: if bad behavior by itself can be classed as a mental illness, what does that say about what we can class as mental illness? Think of the fight to get homosexuality, an act that was seen as morally reprehensible, harmful, and cruel, removed from the DSM. The presence of a behavior, by itself, including genuinely horrible things, is not in itself mental illness. It’s bad behavior
Racism is not a mental illness. Homophobia is not a mental illness. Extremism is not a mental illness
Stop using mentally ill people as your scapegoat or victim during tragedies. People do not commit shootings because they are mentally ill. They do it because they have motivation to and are capable of committing atrocities. Mental illness and abuse are never “the reason” and you’re making the world more dangerous for people who are mentally ill. Stop it
#m/cc#mass shooting#mass violence#shooting mention#violence#gun violence#gun control#long post#let me know any other tags I should add for filtering#by the way I'm gay and schizophrenic so don't @ me for the gay comparison or for saying 'schizophrenic' instead of 'with schizophrenia'#I'm tired and I'm done dealing with that#almost not even posting this because I know it'll spark a debate about 'actually mentally ill people CAN be evil#and evil people can be mentally ill. I think you need to have more nuance?'#'I'd rather not have to reconsider my view on stigmatized things'#'actually I knew a mentally ill person who was really mean so OP has clearly never worked in the real world'#(my favorite is always 'I used to work at [place kids are sent for violent behavior] and the mentally ill kids there are really scary')#anyway if you have scary mental illnesses hit me up I need more friends#signed your local schizo
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youtube
I suddenly wanted to listen to this song for the first time in ages, and it took on a whole new meaning for me. The members and I were 12-14 when the song came out, and in our teens/twenties last I listened to it. So much has happened for all of us between now and then. They've moved on to individual careers and lives– half are married, several are mothers, and I've moved to Japan and back. I'm struck yet again by just how amazing it was to have grown up together with Berryz. In honor of that, here's a translation.
I saw a movie
That made me think
I guess I'll start a diary
Somehow or other
I've kept it up for two years
It's unexpectedly
Pretty fun
I've decided
I won't reread it
At least until I graduate
I wonder if someday
When I'm grown up
I'll reread it
And cry?
I wanna have a youth
That I won't regret
But also
I won't write any lies
It's fine if it's a mess
As long as it's honest
I got a fountain pen
So I wanna try
Being a little
More grown up
But I guess
It's not like what I write
Will grow up just like that
The new kid in class
Seems kinda like a bad boy
I'm interested
But that doesn't mean I like him
One morning when I'm a grown up
I'll drink strong coffee
In one gulp
I'm never gonna stop
Laughing happily
And I wanna hang out
With my amazing friends
I'll write it in my diary
The name of the person I like
I'm never gonna stop
Laughing happily
And I wanna hang out
With my amazing friends
I'll write it in my diary
The name of the person I like
#I know no one here follows me for jpop but too bad#berryz koubou#berryz工房#translation#jp lyrics from projecthello I do not love their english translation :/#the magic of it is its simplicity and childishness#it captures the speech and thought patterns of a 13-14 yo so well#the line about the fountain pen always gets me#because I remember having thoughts like that#oh I have a grown up pen that means I'm grown up now#the girls are always saying that Tsunku really understood their feelings#and I think this is a perfect example of that#don't even get me STARTED in the part where Yurina#who's about to graduate elementary school#leaves her randsel behind on stage 🥺#in Japan a randsel is like a symbol of elementary school#getting one is a huge deal#it's saying you're a big kid now#and when you go on to middle school you leave it behind as a sign that you're on your way to adulthood#I'm not crying you're crying
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I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:
Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.
The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.
The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.
The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.
Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.
The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.
Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".
He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.
This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.
Edit to add further developments:
Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.
Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.
The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.
The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.
The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.
TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).
This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".
This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")
X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.
Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.
The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.
One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.
Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.
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I honestly wish people cared more about depression and other issues rather than saying they care but scrutinise a person so horribly when they show symptoms associated with said condition 🧎♀️
#everyone’s so horrible about it#if you don’t know what something means you research#I research when my friend says they have an illness or a particular sexuality I may not know about#or just to understand and help out because that’s what friends do right ?#so research if someone tells you they have a condition and learn the symptoms#don’t like it ? leave.#but don’t stick around if you’re not in the slightest tolerant to any speck of symptom they may exhibit#whoever does this is a horrible person#because you signed up for this so you deal with it. it’s so mean to punish someone for something they can’t control#because ppl aren’t nearly as kind to people who are normal as they are to mentally ill people#aren’t nearly as mean to normal ppl*#yeah sure they still have to control themselves etc but you never say this to normal people#you’re never so harsh to normal people if anything those with mental illness need more kindness and understanding and everyone blows it#how are you gonna sit there with full conviction saying I have depression and anxiety ( I have way more than that but okay )#yet blame me when I can’t commit to my work or blame me for being “lazy” I think as a perfectionist and star student I beat myself up over#that already so why would you hurt me more#alternatively this applies to ppl who get mad at others asking reassurance#im gonna rip my hair out for that why literally why would you have a problem#it’s always communicate this communicate that but in fact everyone’s allergic to communication and they’re not traumatised by it#ZERO EXCUSES BUT SOMEHOW all the excuses for normal people but none for mentally ill ppl#everyone’s sick. this is what I mean when. I say it’s so aggravating seeing people because they’re so hopelessly stupid#in the sense they don’t have an ounce of compassion and are disgustingly selfish thinking of themselves 24/7 and their feelings when not to#compare but ppl have it worse than your dumb ass paper cut - esque issues 😇#oh but all the sympathy to you and none to the “crazy people” who actually need more compassion than you be so Fr#and if you cope well with your own issues then good 4 u ! but you’re not the standard of the DSM 🤗 you also aren’t any better#everyone copes differently and expresses things differently dependent on their unique exposures circumstances and view of the world#let’s stop pretending that one view is the right view#this doesn’t mean let yourself get abused btw it means using that thing in your head to be reasonable#dora daily
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CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)
Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.
-
Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.
You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.
“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-
“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”
“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.
“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.
Which was a mess in itself.
You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.
“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.
You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.
“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.
“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.
“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.
“Y/n”
You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.
“Y/n”
Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.
“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs
“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.
“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.
In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.
Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.
He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.
You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.
You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.
“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”
“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.
“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”
“I shouldn’t have messed u-
“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.
“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.
“What did you miss”
“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”
“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.
You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.
“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.
“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.
“Please what, sweets”
“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.
“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.
“Sir, pleasee”
“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”
He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.
“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”
“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.
“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”
Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.
“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.
“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.
“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE
“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.
“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.
“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.
“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.
“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”
#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky x you#bucky x smut#bucky x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x Female Reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x fluff#James Buchanan Bucky Barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#ceo bucky#ceo!bucky#ceo bucky barnes#ceo bucky smut#ceo bucky barnes smut#ceo bucky x secretary reader#bucky x secretary#bucky barnes imagine#bucky imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky fan fiction#bucky fan fic#bucky barnes fanfiction
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I keep seeing posts talking about the WGA/Sag-Aftra strike, which yes, good, but in all this "support writers" sentiment I'm seeing no one talk about book writers, which I think is something people should know more about right now.
We are at an all-time high for book bans, namely targeting queer & PoC-authored books. This means that a lot of schools and libraries are no longer stocking diverse YA books, and if you're not in publishing, you may not realize this but school & libraries are by far one of the biggest markets for diverse YA books.
This means that in 2023, YA book sales are down. This is also in part because Barnes & Noble (the largest physical book retailer in the U.S.) is no longer really stocking YA hardcovers. This means that marginalized authors and debut authors are struggling to sell books.
But it's a LOT worse than that. In the past couple of years, marginalized authors are *really* struggling to get new book deals. Most books are acquired by a publisher about 2 years before they release to the public, so this isn't all that noticeable yet, but a LOT of marginalized authors I've spoken to (myself included) have been unable to sell a new YA book since 2020. So while I had a book out last year, even if I sell one right now, you won't see it until 2025-2026. That's three to four years without a new release or the income I get from publishing those books.
On top of that, Big 5 publishers have started closing imprints (namely their diverse imprints) and have started telling their marginalized YA authors to just go. I've had multiple authors tell me their publisher basically said, "eh, we don't care to put in the work for you anymore. You can just go somewhere else". Of the authors who *are* getting offered new contracts, we're being offered pay far below the cost of living and we're being handed contracts that split our payments 4 or 5 ways and require we sign over our work to be used to train AI so they can replace us a few years down the road.
Authors are freelancers who own our IPs, which means we can't unionize the way Hollywood writers can, and despite authors showing up in droves to support HarperCollins employees when they went on strike for fair wages, we're being hung out to dry when it comes to our own rights.
If you enjoy diverse books, especially diverse YA, please understand that many of the authors you loved over the past 3-5 years are being forced out of the industry. We're being exploited, and we have no way to defend ourselves. Our books sales are drying up thanks to anti-queer legislation, our rights are being eaten up by AI, and our publishers are degrading us while profiting of us and refusing to share those profits with us.
Within the publishing industry, we've all been watching this decline happen over the last decade, but outside of it, I know most people have no idea what's going on so please spread the word. And if you care about diverse books especially in YA, please support marginalized authors in any way you can. The industry needs to be reminded that it needs us before we're all eliminated from it.
#Books#diverse books#author#publishing#sag aftra#writers strike#writers#labor rights#workers rights#wga strike
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~ ~ ~
#oooohhh I fucked up#like big time fucked up#I knew better than to bring that up but I did it anyway and told myself it wouldn’t be a big deal and I just made everything fucking worse#I seem to do that quite a lot#I think the only thing I’m good for is ruining things#I just want you out of my head#I just wanted to know that this was ending for real so I could move on and stop hanging on to nothing#I should have seen the signs and picked up on the hints and I didn’t and now I’ve made us both upset#but it’s hard because you were the only one to ever give me attention and I got addicted to having my ego boosted#you started this and I just want you to finish it so I can go back to normal#I didn’t mean for things to end up this way though#I don’t want to lose a good friend over my own stupidity#and I wish I knew better how to fix this and what to say to make things right#but I crossed a line and now I need you to shove me back over it as hard as you can because that’s what I deserve#just don’t leave me alone here that’s all I ask#I’ll do anything you want and be anything you need#but I just can’t lose another friend#I can’t keep losing people I care about#i can’t keep doing this#personal
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Baby Boomers had a cinnamon challenge they won’t talk about that may be the reason why toothpick-chewers in classic movies are seen as cool
My mother is 65 and right bang in the middle of the Baby Boomer generation, but she’s very cool and does her best to be and stay woke, keep up with shifts in vernacular, and takes care to do things like make sure she’s strict with getting pronouns correct, etc. Her meme game is a little lagging, and she only just discovered the cinnamon challenge. I was surprised to see her... not surprised. If anything, she seemed a bit pleased and said, “Yep, kids are still kids.”
I stared at her for a while. “What do you mean?” I asked her. She’s seen other ancient memes like planking and never had that reaction before. Seeing the cinnamon challenge was downright satisfying to her.
She looked me dead in the face and said, “Sweetheart, I grew up in a time when you could get crystal meth over the counter at the pharmacy. They were called diet pills then.”
“Whaaaaaaat.” I knew that Nazi Germany passed meth around like candy, but that was in the 30′s and 40′s. I had just figured it had been prohibited already in America by the time my mom was growing up. “Did you have a cinnamon challenge or something in school?” I finally asked.
She half-nodded and half-shrugged and said, “Similar. You couldn’t have candy or gum in school when I was growing up. It was about 1969 in San Francisco and parents were starting to limit cigarette smoking to kids under 18, too, so a lot of my school friends were squirming all day long with nothing to at least chew on.”
“What did they do instead, mom?” I asked suspiciously, because she would not bring this subject up after I had explained to her that the cinnamon challenge was dangerous because of how horrible it is to accidentally inhale it into your airways.
“Well... Back when I was in school, you could get cinnamon extract from the pharmacy. It was just cinnamon suspended in canola oil, and you could use it for cooking or treating a skin fungus. Stuff like that,” she explained. “So the boys at my school would take toothpicks and dip them in the cinnamon extract. That’s why chewing on a toothpick was so common back then. If you were trying to quit smoking or couldn’t have chewing gum, you could carry a little bottle of flavor extract about the size of a bottle of nail polish in your pocket and dip a toothpick in it. Then you’d have something to chew on that the teachers hadn’t banned, and you could hide them in your cheek easily.”
“So what did the boys at your school get into, mother?” I asked again. We were still on the topic of ridiculous memes. This had to go somewhere.
She smirked. “Well, after a while, the boys started noticing that the cinnamon extract from the pharmacy was spicy. It burned. So it started to get to be a challenge to see how many cinnamon toothpicks you could hold in your mouth at once. It got so bad that kids would get blisters and burns on their mouths from it, and you could tell if someone had a few of them tucked in their cheek in class because their face would turn red from the neck up like a cartoon.”
“Why have I never heard about this?”
She wasn’t done. “Finally, the teachers figured out what everyone was doing and it became a pretty big deal. Cinnamon extract started getting banned or restricted to adults. Then they banned toothpicks for sale to anyone under 18, too. That’s why it was a sign of being cool, particularly among guys, to walk around with a toothpick in your mouth. It either meant you had a fake ID or that you were 18.”
I stared at her for a long time. “Mom, why didn’t they just use hot sauce? It was California. Didn’t you have peppers?”
Without missing a beat, my 65-year-old mother replied, “Honey, we were white as fuck.”
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]
“I’m having a child.”
Danny stared at Batman.
“…Uh, congrats?”
Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”
Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”
Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.
“I mean- I have parents!”
“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”
Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”
“They’re still… alive?”
“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.
“I see.”
“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”
Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.
“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.
“Of course. Tell me everything.”
The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.
Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.
——
“Hey, Tim?”
Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”
“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”
Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”
Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”
“You… want to confront Batman.”
“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”
“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.
“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”
“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.
“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”
Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”
Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”
“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”
“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”
“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.
Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.
“Jason regularly showers, though?!”
“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”
“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”
“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”
“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”
“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”
“Danny, what the fuck?”
“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”
“Hey!”
“Soul-stinky nerd man!”
——
“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.
“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”
“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”
“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.
“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”
“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.
“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.
“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.
“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.
“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.
#Danny: not another adoption!#Vlad and Bruce trying to adopt Danny even though he’s got parents:🤝#batman#danny phantom#tim drake#jason todd#bruce wayne#dc x dp#bamf danny phantom#dpxdc#dcxdp#dcxdp crossover#sea cryptic! danny au
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meeting simon in the army.
18+ MDNI || nsfw || f!reader || oneshot/drabble || masterlist
wc: around 4.8k
cw: eventual smut, unprotected p in v, lil massage trope, spit kink, simon being his own enemy, reader being oblivious, simon loves tits, simon’s kinda mean at first but sweet at the end-ish, not proofread.
Lieutenant Riley is familiar with the process of adding a new addition to their little task force. but just because he's familiar with it, doesn't mean he's a fan of it.
a new member, a new person means that he has to most likely deal with another soap of sorts. don't get it wrong, he's okay with soap, but that doesn't mean he enjoys the constant questions soap seems to ask about him, even when he knows they irritate him, but that won't stop his curiosity.
you're confident when you show up to the meeting room, nothing new. recruits are either confident in themselves or they're completely terrified and it'll be written all over their faces.
soap is quick to befriend you, both of you snipers and demolition experts after all. it gives him a whole new buddy to talk with. simon takes this as a good sign, maybe he won't have to spend much time showing your around and telling you about the team and how things work here if soap is gonna spend all his time with you. right? wrong.
Price assigns soap on a mission with another task force soap had recently worked with before TF141. meaning that Simon is going to have to spend every free waking moment he has with you. and for a guy like Simon, this is hell. but don't take it the wrong way, he's like this with everyone.
you're quick to find the large man rude, dismissive. you'll ask barely personal questions and he'll shrug it off and blatantly ignore you. will roll his eyes or just walk away mid-conversation (which was one-sided anyway).
maybe you talked too much? had you asked him too many questions? maybe he just didn't like you for absolutely zero reason. you decided to stop thinking too much about it. you didn't do anything wrong, maybe he's just a natural-born asshole.
Soap had mentioned something about the lieutenant having a stick somewhere deep up his ass and to not worry too much about how he treats you.
however, after telling yourself you'd stop losing sleep over it, you continued.
maybe he just wasn't used to having a woman on his team. They are all men after all. but that wouldn't be professional, plus the others aren't like that with you. they kinda just treat you like their own. they knew about your background, and what you have done, and they respected you for it, so why couldn't he?
simon knows better than most about your background, he had to study your file after Price mentioned your recruitment.
"weapons of choice - melee; knives, axe."
a shared opinion.
he trains with you to see how advanced you really are. weapon training and all that is fine, but sparring? this has to be a joke. that mountain of a man versus you? you've got muscle to you, yeah, but even soap going against simon is an evident loss. and soap is a big guy.
you start off with Gaz. he's also tall and well built, but he's the more common build of soldiers. you guys spar for an hour, or two, and then you take a break.
you don't think much about who your next spar round will be with, so the anxiousness doesn't begin to settle in until ghost's rough voice calls you over to the mat. he's the only one there. and it settles in.
you look over at Gaz and the look on his face is one of pity, your face drops.
it's not even 30 seconds into the round when you're already dropped to the ground. the mat feels like concrete when you hit your back on it.
"c'mon, get up." ghost says in an almost pissed off way.
you groan and roll over, quickly getting back up on your feet. "no mercy?" you ask in a huff. "you won't get mercy when you're fighting for your life in the field, you should know this, sergeant." he states dryly, but the way he said 'sergeant' sounded like an insult rolling off his tongue.
after 30 minutes of repeatedly losing, you admit defeat. but at least he stays with you after hours when the others have left, leaving you both alone so you don't have to keep losing in front of a crowd.
3 months of dry responses, frequent scoldings, straight-up constant attitude from the man and not many interactions besides from when he was ordering you around or lecturing you about a fuck up in training or on a mission.
and even though he wouldn't interact with you much, it somehow seemed that he was always on your ass, always watching to see what your next fuck up would be, always so observant. because why the hell were his eyes always on you? every time you'd glance over at him, he'd already be looking at you with that dark 1000-yard stare, arms crossed and sitting across any room you were in at the moment.
3 months is what it takes for him to not act like a complete brooding asshole towards you even for just a moment. reason? you saved his life.
sort of.
simon was clearing a wide area in a warehouse on a mission and it seems one of the men there seemed to blend in far better than anyone else could. Simon was almost too late, almost the one standing at the receiving end of a bullet to the head, but you had him. and you saved him.
neither of you thought too much about it though, after all, it is your job to have each other's backs in the field. he only gave you a gruff "thank you" when he brushed passed you towards the exit. but you took that thank you as a sign that he didn't absolutely despise you like you had thought he did for the past 3 months.
or so you thought. not much changed afterwards. but at least whenever you'd start a conversation, he'd just stare at you instead of walking off. but he'd always stay quiet. you wanted to give up, you should've given up. but something deep inside you had you pushing.
what it was wasn't so obvious at the time.
but that's probably because you were so oblivious.
you didn't know him like the boys did, you were new. so no one could've blamed you for not seeing the obvious frustration you caused him. soap on the other hand thought it was bloody comedic.
you always assumed the triple checks on your comms and positions were just because he didn't trust you enough to know what you were doing. because why would you think anything else with the way he behaved towards you?
the way he'd suddenly appear when a private was up and flirting with you. he'd come and scold you for having chitchat when you should've been doing paperwork, his jaw tensed. he'd look behind you to give the private a glare that you would've assumed was a 'get back to work' glare and not the threatening glare it actually was, because why would you think otherwise?
when you all went out to the pub for a drink after a long exhausting mission to relax a bit, but you hadn't had alcohol in so long so you didn't think to slow down, eventually blacking out on Simon's shoulder, and ending up in your quarters at the end of the night, boots off and snuggly tucked in under your sheets.
what you did notice is that you'd never be assigned to missions that ghost wasn't on. you caught on eventually but you never mentioned it, too annoyed with him to start an argument you knew you'd lose.
but when you're all at the pub on another night, soap and gaz over by the pool table, drunkenly betting against each other, and price long gone back to the base and having called it an early night, leaving the two of you at the table alone, it slips out.
he's been ignoring your attempted starts of a conversation all night, the alcohol had given you the motivation you needed to try again, but you've had enough of the silent treatment.
"hey, i've noticed I only go on missions that you're on.." he tenses. "'s that because you don't trust me? or somethin?"
he doesn't respond as per usual, and you know he's already annoyed with you but you keep pushing.
"you can be a real prick, y'know?" you mumble out, earning a side glance from him, his hand on the table, fingers tapping on his empty glass. he stays quiet.
"I just don't understand why you dislike me or whatever. I haven't done anything to you personally, I don't think.." you trail off, furrowing your brows as if in thought. he just stares down at you.
"you're a real pain in my ass" you then state rather confidently. he raises his brow at this before looking down at his empty glass and muttering a "Seems we've got that in common."
you roll your eyes and groan, moving to grab your beer but he moves it further up the table before you can reach it.
"hey-" you start but he interrupts, "you've 'ad enough." he grumbles out and you scoff, standing up from the chair and walking over to where Soap and Gaz are laughing it up with each other.
but maybe he's had a bit too much to drink too.
because the moment a man starts flirting with you at the bar, his hand just a bit too touchy, Simon appears, his hand is gripping the man's shoulder and pulling him back with an angered "back off."
you can't even manage out a "what the hell-?" before he's grabbing your bicep and dragging you out of the pub. you stop protesting rather quickly, too tired to continue. you just let him drag you all the way back to the base where he only lets go of you when he reaches the doorstep of your barracks building.
"sleep. now. don't wanna deal with your lazy tired ass tomorrow when you're moping around because you didn't get enough rest." he grunts out before abruptly turning in his place and leaving.
it's the next week when you're in the break room sitting across from Soap who's on his phone and drinking his coffee when you voice your troubles. "I can't deal with him anymore, Soap, really. he gives me such a hard time and I don't understand why," you practically whine to him.
"bloke doesn't know what to do with you when you practically give him a hard on all the time." he says it so plainly. as if it's a common fact, no big deal.
though you, of course, take it as a joke.
"Oh shut up, I'm serious." you groan through a chuckle and he just looks up at you and smirks before excusing himself to go back to his duties, leaving you there to mope at the wall.
the hell does that even mean?
luckily for you, you forget all about your short conversion in the break room, your mind too occupied from the busy week to care about a little dumb joke that soap told.
maybe you should've sat to think about said joke for longer.
you zone out while you do paperwork, your mind running on autopilot so that you don't pay attention to the time on the clock running past 11:30pm.
you hands hurt. your wrists hurt. and your back is sore from uncomfortably hunching over this old desk in this dinky chair that doesn't even spin properly.
you're too tired and too caught up in mentally complaining about everything to notice the tall figure standing in the doorway of the office you're working.
so when he speaks, voice baritone and accent thick, it scares the absolute living shit out of you. letting out a short yell and flinging your pen across the room, you look over at him.
you roll your eyes, too tired to even deal with him right now, preparing for him to lecture you about how sleeping late is bad for you even though literally everyone on base knows that he has the most fucked schedule of them all.
"I know it's late, I don't wanna hear it. this is the only free time I had to do this." you explain, your voice low and tired.
"didn't say anything." he responds and you glare up at him, and he knows.
he walks across the room and picks up the pen that you flung, his heavy steps making their way over to you and handing you back your pen.
he hasn't done or said anything threatening, so then why does it feel like he did?
you whisper a small 'thank you' before looking back down at your sheet and writing a few things down. he just stands there, staring down at your with crossed arms, observing. always observing. that's all he does. all he ever does.
you try to not let it get to you but he's just so intimidating.
you clench your jaw and breathe for a moment before focusing back on your paper. but just as you do that, he rounds the desk and stands behind your chair.
he grabs the chair, pulling it back a bit before his voice demands out, "stand,". you don't hesitate a moment before standing up quickly.
silence.
why does it feel like ages before he finally speaks??
"you're tense." he states and you furrow your brows because what the hell is happening. "y-yeah, I guess?"
the air is thick.
you're so caught up in empty thoughts that you don't hear what he says. "sorry, what'd you say?" you ask but it comes out a whisper without you intending for it to.
"may I?"
you're not sure what he means but you still slowly nod.
you suddenly freeze and your eyes go wide when you feel his palm wrap around your hair and move it to the side, his other hand resting in the crevice between your shoulder and neck, bare.
he's not wearing the glove.
his hand is warm when he suddenly squeezes you there, checking to see just how tense you are and your mind is blank. your thoughts have evaporated and you can't fucking move, because what the hell is happening!?
"why're you so bloody tense?" he asks, his voice so fucking deep that it makes your skin warm up. you've always hated the effect that his voice alone has on you.
'maybe because you're touching me?' is what you think to yourself.
"I don't know? work?" you sound so unsure of yourself that it feels embarrassing.
he mutters a quiet "yeah." while he continues to massage the area.
you wouldn't say this is a complete 180º from the way he's been treating you for the past couple months, but... this is a complete fucking 180º from the way he's been treating you these past couple months.
but you can't deny how fucking good it feels. his hands are so big and warm. the roughness of them surprisingly adding so much more to the massage and it feels so. good.
you can't help the slight moan that escapes your lips when you dip your head forward, giving him more space to work with.
ghost would halt his movements but that would only make you suspicious of what's happening to him behind you he clenches his jaw hard, his entire body tensing as he feels his pants grow tight and fuck is he fighting back a groan.
he did this to himself. he should've just minded his business and muttered an order to you like he usually would. he should've put up the asshole act instead of strolling in and offering a goddamn massage because he would never in his right mind actually do this.
he's barely slept for the past three days, so he doesn't really have control over his own actions, especially when it comes to you. it's always you that gets him like this, only you.
it's quiet for so long while he just massages your shoulders. usually It would be awkward, but this time it's just comfortable.
when he finishes, his hands remain and you start to actually snap back to reality on where you are, who's behind you, and what's going on. you don't move, hell you barely breathe. how could you when you could feel every breath he takes hit the skin on the back of your neck or how you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he stands behind you as if he's a human furnace or something.
there's always been tension. whether it was negative or positive, you were never completely 100% sure which. but it was always there. and it bothered the fuck out of the both of you.
you feel his thumb caress your nape. just a small movement. you wouldn't've noticed if you weren't hyper focused on every fibre of his being standing right behind you, not caring for your personal space despite him always getting pissed about not having enough of his own.
you don't know how to move on from this moment. there're no words in your mouth, your body frozen still under his gaze, under his touch.
you want to say something, anything. but you don't know what.
"ghost," you start, but he doesn't answer, he just rubs his thumb over again. "ghost." you try again.
silence.
"simon." he stops.
"what are you doing?" you turn your head to the side when you whisper this, looking at him stand behind you out the corner of your eye, and he stares right back.
after his silence, you go to move but he stops you, his hands grabbing your arms and keeping you in place. you go to shake him off but when you lean your body back, you feel something against your ass and your breath hitches.
he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw, he knows you felt it, and he knows he's fucked when he lets out a quiet groan.
"it seems you’ve been stressed too..." you mumble out and his grip on you only tightens. you don't think before you nudge your ass against him again but with purpose and his breathing stutters.
"Don't." he demands through gritted teeth, but you only do it again and he doesn't stop you.
he then pushes you forward and you gasp, your crotch hitting the desk edge as you bend over the desk.
he doesn't do anything for a few moments as he thinks over what he's doing. he's your superior. this is wrong. so why does it feel so good to drag his hand down your back.
he then suddenly lets go of you and backs up, confusing you in the process. you stand back up and turn to stare at him, your brows furrowed and you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.
the way you look at him, it's as if there's hope in your eyes and that only spurs him on to do what he does next. he moves his hand up to raise the bottom of his mask up to rest just over his nose. he then quickly loops his arm around your waist and pulls you in for your lips to meet his in a kiss born off of sexual frustration.
you're quick to wrap one of your arms around his neck, not caring at all for what this means because god it feels so good.
he groans against your lips and pushes you back against the desk, lifting you a bit to sit you down on it before he mumbles against your lips.
"you gon' let me do this?"
the man, your lieutenant, your superior who you thought hated you so damn much for the longest time, is asking for your permission as his hand squeezes your thigh.
this is crazy. all of this is crazy. yet you nod.
he spreads your thighs with his hands and stands between them while his mouth moves from your lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, his lips hot and wet against you.
you let him push you back until your back is flat against the desk, his hand moving to grab your hip to keep you in place just as he likes while his other hand loops under the waist band of your pants and palms you over your panties.
you can't help but whimper when he does this which only turns him on more. and he grunts against your neck when he removes his hand only to grind his covered bulge against you.
you huff out as he continues to grind against you, growing in need when heat begins to pool in your core while his hands grip at you tightly as if you'd disappear if he let go. and he's not about to risk that when he finally has you right where he wants you.
you pull at his clothes, a whine slipping from your lips and he knows what you want. one of his hands moves to slide your shirt up your stomach and you let him. when he does get the shirt off of you, he doesn't even go to unclip your bra, instead his hand moves to grab the front of your bra and drags it down, your tits falling out.
he grabs one of your tits and mouths it, sucking, while his other hand moves to pull your pants down.
he backs up and fully pulls your pants off before he's back on you, mouth on your tit while his left hand plays with the other and his right hand slips under the fabric of your panties, feeling how soaked you are.
his thumb applies pressure on your clit which has you already gasping and arching into his touch.
he teases you a bit, wanting to see how desperate you'd get before he actually fucks you with his cock. he slips a digit in and groans against your nipple when he feels how your wet warmth clenches around just his finger.
he adds another and then another, wanting to stretch you out enough for him to squeeze in.
he curls and thrusts his fingers in you, getting to that spongey spot in you that has you moaning and throwing your head back against the desk, whining fro him to finally put it in.
"y'want me?" he asks but you can't even reply.
"I asked if y'want me, love." his voice is gravel when he repeats himself, wanting an answer out of you before he takes this further.
you nod, frantic and and grinding against his palm for more friction against your clit. "y-yes, yes sir, please-" you answer and he feels his cock twitch in his pants.
he moves his lips back up to your neck and removes his hands from you, undoing his pants and pulling himself out, precum beading at his red tip.
you whimper at the sight of it. it's obvious to see how big of a man simon is in general, he's huge. and it seems that so is everything else about him.
he doesn't bother to remove your panties as he's too impatient. instead he just moves them to the side, his finger running down your slit before he brings it to his mouth to get a taste of you, letting out a satisfied hum.
he then brings his hand up to you and orders, "spit", and you do.
he pumps himself a few times to wet it before he aligns with your slit and you inhale when he starts to push in, stretching you out so perfectly for him. so fucking big.
he takes his time pushing into you, his warm breath against your neck when he groans as he bottoms out, deep inside you. “so fucking tight…” he groans through gritted teeth.
you clench around him, your hands slipping under the fabric of his shirt and your nails clawing at the skin on his back, wanting him to move already as you grow impatient and needy.
he does just that, drawing his hips back before thrusting back into you resulting in a yelp from you. and he doesn't stop.
his pace is already above slow and picking up with each time he hammers back into you, curses and moans falling from his lips like he's in heaven, because he is.
your lips meet his again and you moan into his mouth with each thrust. he makes out with you like a man starved, like he's been wanting this for so long…you under him while he fucks into you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
the only sounds in the room being the squelching of your pussy as he thrusts into you and both of your moans. if anyone was walking down the hallway at this hour which is unlikely, they'd most definitely hear what you two are doing.
he moves his hand down and presses his thumb to your clit while he continues to fuck into you, rubbing it in circles which has you crying out through moans, tears of pleasure threatening to spill out the corners of your eyes.
your breathing becomes ragged as your back arches deeper into him, your hips bucking against his to meet his pace while he groans and nips at the skin on your neck, “takin’ me so well… s’ fuckin good f’me…” he moans and it sets your skin on fire.
he's close and so are you.
your fingers move under the back of the mask to pull at his short hair and he let's you do it, trusting you to not pull the mask off.
your lips against his ear, letting him hear all your pretty sounds and it only drives him further, his pace keeping steady, knowing just what you need when you moan out "i'm close..so close.." and he knows it too as he feels you clench tightly around him.
he surprises you when he places his thumb in your mouth when you moan, flattening it against your tongue and grunting a “open f’me, yeah?” and you do without hesitation, opening your mouth nice and wide enough for him to spit on your tongue. he doesn’t even have to tell you to swallow before you do it automatically, earning a smirk from him before he kisses you again.
the combination of his thumb rubbing in circles against your clit and him hammering into you has your body stuttering and spasming, feeling like you're getting possessed as you let out a strangled and broken quiet scream as you finally come undone beneath him, your vision going for a few moments while he fucks you through your orgasm.
you continue to moan when he keeps pumping into you after your orgasm, chasing his own high while he grunts out "'m gonna come... gonna come on your tummy, love.." before he quickly pulls out of you, leaning back up and pumping his cock a few times before he releases his load on your stomach followed by his heavy breaths.
he stares at you for a moment, his chest rising and lowering in heavy breaths before he leans over you to grab the tissue box in the corner of the desk and wipes his cum off of you.
he puts your panties back in place and steps back, handing you your pants. he shoves his cock back into his pants and then watches you pull yours back on, his arms crossed.
now that the foggy feeling in your mind is gone, you're shy as you stand under his gaze.
you just fucked your lieutenant.
he licks his lip before pulling the mask back down and sitting back onto the chair. you're confused for a moment before he nods his head in the direction of the door and mutters a "go t'sleep. it's late."
you look at the door and then back at him, furrowing your brows in confusion. "but my paperwork-" he interrupts you before you can finish your sentence. "I'll do your paperwork. now go to bed. tha's an order." he instructs and you stand there absolutely dumbfounded before you actually register his words.
you slowly nod and he clenches his jaw before he looks at the short stack of paperwork on the side of the desk, grabbing one and beginning to work on it, but you're still there.
"thought I told you t-" he pauses when you lean down to place a kiss on the fabric over where his temple is, taking him by surprise as it shuts him up.
you then give him a sweet smile, your hand sliding down his muscular arm before you turn around and walk out the small office, leaving him to do your paperwork after he fucked you so well just a moment ago on that very desk.
horny brain = ©simonsslut 2023 — do not steal!
simon experiencing blue balls too many times in secret bc he's stubborn.
#nadiascrolls 🍒#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost x reader#simon riley#ghost mw2#ghost simon riley#ghost smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon riley smut#ghost hc#ghost call of duty#ghost cod mw2#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon riley x reader#cod smut#cod mw2#simon ghost x reader#nadiaworks
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