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carmyberzattosjournal · 1 month ago

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Entry 17: A Man Possessed

GIF credit: @maikswen

Bearblr Promptober Day 17: Dumbification (Sub: Clueless)

Summary: Carmy has girlfriend (who he calls Darling) brainworms again, and he's even more of a disaster this time. (Or: the time Carmy had to leave work to go rail his girl)

Warnings: Smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (she has an IUD but Carmy's not writing that in his journal), Dom/Sub dynamic, calling Carmy "sir", hair pulling, obsessed thoughts, mild spiraling, fem reader/rando lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

If you want to keep following this set of works, you can follow the #cb journal tag.

Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

This is is a two-parter. The first part is here.

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

17 Oct 2024

I handled the second incident of Darling invading my brain much worse than the first.

I couldn’t fucking focus for five fucking minutes on anything. I was pissed off at life two minutes after opening, worse so when the place looked a fucking mess from the night before. Assholes couldn’t even clean up after themselves. I don’t even know how many times I lost track of what I was doing or why because my mind went to Darling instead of staying at The Bear. Here she was, burying her face in my t-shirt again, letting out that delicious sigh, the curve of her hip still visible under the blankets, and I wanted so badly to just grab her. To squeeze her flesh in my hands, dig my fingers into the round of her ass, to drown in her soft skin and her wet kisses to my throat. I wanted to bite her. I didn’t even know what to do with that—I just wanted to sink my teeth into the inside of her thigh before soothing her by putting my mouth to use elsewhere. Why? For what purpose? How does that make sense?

Syd must’ve noticed that I was off because she started helping with cleaning—didn’t even try to talk to me. I hate that, by the way; hate when I’m so far away that people don’t even find words worth giving me. I might not talk much, but if people don’t talk to me, I start feeling like a bug on the window; tiny, inconvenient, gross, unwanted, easily forgotten until I make an irritating sound.

I had to step out in the middle of cleaning—I hadn’t even gotten to prep yet, that’s how bad it was—and I found myself dragging my hand over the side of my neck and my throat. My heart throbbed with such violence that I wanted it to escape so I’d stop being harassed by it. My hands trembled, breaths got erratic. I heard her voice again, telling me to breathe, to find sounds around me, but it came through as static. The apple leaf adagio, the skittering of dried maple leaves, her body fits so perfectly in my hands, strawberry lip balm, what’s not to love? Fuck, that feels good, Carmy. More of that, pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Please call me pretty boy again, I’m begging you.

I struggled to make it through the rest of prep. I’m fairly sure Sydney figured out I was that same sort of fucked up again because she didn’t wait for me to fuck up a count or fail to give directions before taking over the reigns of the kitchen. I turned into a line cook, just mindlessly doing what was asked of me because it’s what I knew I could do without making a worse mess, and she had the rest under control.

Syd always had it under control; I was the one out of control.

Once again, near dinner service, just when I thought I’d be fine, I cracked under the pressure. I had stepped out to get a break from the relentless heat of the kitchen, try to get some air that wasn’t saturated with the aromas of food (it sounds nice, but trust me, when you’re hour 10 into inhaling sautéed onions, confit garlic, vinegar, cumin, black pepper, olive oil, it gets so deep into your lungs that you feel like you might cough up a prime rib steak). The snap of cold air on my face shattered the dam keeping any assertion of reality in check, and I was inundated with this… how do I even describe it? It wasn’t quite rage, but it wasn’t far from it. Like I needed Darling. I needed her so badly that if I didn’t have her, I was going to break something.

Possessed? Was I a man possessed?

I had this crawling sensation, yeah? Not quite like ants on my skin; the feeling was bigger, coarser. It started in my back, spread to my shoulders, blazed down my arms, into my hands. I clenched and relaxed my fists, trying to ward it off, but when that did nothing—and it did precisely nothing—I rubbed hard over my arms, dug my short fingernails into my skin in some faint approximation of what Darling’s nails felt like. When I thought about doing it again, even harder, hard enough to draw blood if I had to, I knew I was fucked.

I bailed on the kitchen staff again, but something tells me they would’ve hated me being there anyway.

“Sweetheart? You’re home early, what’s going on?”

She’s on the couch fiddling with yarn—I think it’s crochet? Or is it knitting? I don’t know the difference—and has the 2005 Pride and Prejudice on in the background at a low volume. I don’t even know if she can hear it with how quiet it is. I throw off my jacket, and that’s enough for her to figure out something is wrong. She puts the yarn thing on the arm of the couch and unfolds her legs to get up, but I can’t, okay, I cannot.

“No, you stay there.” I’m sorry, did I just tell her what to do? Who the fuck am I?

She froze and leveled a look at me that I can only describe as a deer in headlights. Entirely confused. Clueless. Maybe even scared.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” It’s tiny. High in her throat.

She follows my face with those big eyes as I approach. It’s weird that it didn’t bother me then. It bothers me now, thinking about it, that she was probably confused as all hell and I should’ve stopped to talk to her, but clearly, I was on one. Or something. That crawling sensation was worse, and overwhelmed by the need, the sheer fucking need to taste her. Taste that strawberry lip balm, lap at her tongue, to occupy my mouth with soft, warm wetness. Fuck me, she was wearing my t-shirt, too.

She squeaked in surprise when I crashed our lips together. Immediately shot her hand to my forearm when one of mine blanketed over her throat. The other seized a fistful of her hair, and she grabbed at my wrist. Probably startled. It bothers me that I didn’t care at the time.

“Open,” I growled.

She obeyed immediately, relented control to let me explore her mouth, and wove her hands into my hair. Fucking hell, I needed that. I was starved of her, plagued with memories of her taste for 10 entire fucking hours—fuck I needed her, all of her, I needed her hands under my skin, goddammit. I pushed her down onto the couch, wrenched her knees apart, and settled between them. She tugged my hair in surprise and then coiled her legs around me.

“Pull harder.”

“Harder? Carmy—”

I used my grip on her hair to tip her head back and aim a glare at her. “I said pull. Fucking. Harder.”

She whimpered and did what I asked. My eyes drifted shut against my will at the tension on my hair—not painful, a sort of raw pleasurable that only pain could seem to bring in that moment. It was too fucking warm. It was boiling again. Why is it always so fucking warm? It was almost as if she could hear my thoughts because she yanked my shirt up and off. I went right back to attacking her with kisses. She hooked a leg high up on my waist and tightened it—have I mentioned how fucking strong she is? College soccer player. She’s really fucking strong.—and it was enough to trigger the ache in my back and force me to pause for a moment with my lips at her neck.

“Carmy,” she gasped, “tell me where your head is, sweetheart.”

Her sounding breathless shouldn’t’ve made me feel powerful.

I yanked off her shirt. May have torn a hook off her bra when I wrested it off her. Whatever, I’d buy her a new one.

“Carmy, I need you to talk—” I cut her off with more fervent kisses. She patted my chest, squeezed her legs again. “Hey, pretty boy.”

That got me to freeze and meet her gaze. She rubbed small circles over my chest.

“Hi… hi, sweetheart.”

“Couldn’t—” Fuck me, I could barely think. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Her confusion was replaced with a wide-eyed expression.

I ducked down to continue that hickey on her neck. I needed to leave some kind of mark on her. What the hell was going on with me? She trailed a hand down my abdomen and rested it on the bulge in my pants. Took her about two heartbeats to start fumbling with my fly. This wave of cool relief washed over me—don’t know what or why it was about—but it was brief, just a momentary breather in the flames of arousal consuming me. She got me free of my pants and underwear, kissed my temple.

“That better, hm?” Was she really trying to soothe me right now?

Did she not see the animal trying not to devour her?

It occurs to me now that I might’ve genuinely scarred her when I stared her down in response. She froze, searched my face, darted her gaze between my mouth and my eyes repeatedly. Had shaky, jerky movements when trying to shove off her sweatpants. It was odd that she wasn’t speaking. She tends to talk. Her voice is pretty soothing, honestly. At first, something of a regular check in and reassurance for me to know that I wasn’t fucking up, but now a familiar, comfortable, soothing riff in the soundtrack of our lives together. Of course, at the time, I didn’t register any of this because I just needed to be inside her already.

She tensed up when I hiked her leg up my side. Babbled frantically into my mouth, “C-Carmy? Carmy, be gentle. Please be gentle—oh fuck!”

How gentle do you think a wild animal can be, baby girl?

She was unimaginably tight but also impossibly wet. My head spun and it took every last frayed fiber of wherewithal to not immediately sink into her cunt as deep as I could. Forget thinking straight, forget thinking about anything other than the tight, wet heat enveloping my dick. I was pussy drunk already, and I just barely got started.

She dug her nails into my back, had one hand on my abdomen digging into my muscle. “Baby! Baby, please, slow down… fuck, that’s so good, but please—”

“You can take it,” I snarled into her ear.

She took a second, but then withdrew the hand pushing on me and busied it with my hair instead. Mumbled a small, “Y-yes, sir.”

Sir?

She moaned something of a pitiful sound when I got to work. Whatever that version of me was, it wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t seem to care. She hiked her leg up higher when I hit her deep, begged for more, clung to me tighter when I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and did just that, mumbled praises in my ear as I relentlessly fucked her through her orgasm. Good boy; that’s it, you’re making me feel so good; fuck, baby, I’m so full; I can take more, keep going. It crossed the rat’s nest of busted wires in my brain further. All I can remember is this raw, unfiltered, white-hot pleasure burning a chasm into my core, this tension winding so tight I couldn’t get enough air in. Braided steel cable creaking under a construction load? How do I describe this? Tightening rubber band? No.

Sinew tensioning as a dull knife dug into it. That’s an apt descriptor. Like with the ice cubes in the kitchen that first time. Only all-consuming, raw, visceral, centered on her—her scent, her heat, her strained breaths, her wetness, her taste.

I hid my face in the crook of her neck when I was right on the edge.

Her lips brushed my ear. Her voice was strained but still the same kind of soothing to my soul. “Come on, sweetheart. Let go… Cum, pretty boy…”

I clutched her like a drowning man when my orgasm finally hit me. It knocked the air out of my lungs, killed a scream in my throat, set off a thrumming sound in my ears, first bathed me in flames and then abruptly flooded ice water through my veins. My abdomen screamed from how violently it spasmed, the muscles in my back seized up. Everything stopped. Everything—never in my life had my entire existence been so blank, so empty, so quiet, so at peace. I might even have blacked out for a bit (or my memory is just as shit as it’s always been) because the next thing I remember is slow, gentle caresses over my face, neck, chest, shoulder, then back up to my face to repeat the circuit. Her lips pressed to my hairline at intervals. My eyelashes brushed her neck while I tried to blink the cobwebs away.

“You with me, sweetheart?”

Nope. Not even close. I don’t even know what planet I’m on right now.

She smoothed my sweaty hair back off my face. Planted another kiss to my temple. “That’s okay. You’re safe. Take your time.”

This is going too well, right? She’s too perfect. God’s a sadist; that other shoe is going to return from orbit, and because I am willing to give my whole being to this woman, it will kill me. This love will kill me.

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #this man is so feral

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laf-outloud · 5 days ago

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https://collider.com/jared-padalecki-fire-country/

Jared Padalecki Is Exactly What 'Fire Country' Needed

Yea he is!!

As Camden Casey, Bode Leone's (Max Thieriot) new boss, Padalecki shows off his impressive range as an actor. Who would've thought that from Gilmore Girls to Supernatural and Walker, and now on Fire Country, Padalecki would be routinely cast as characters who couldn't be more different? This time around, Padalecki plays a maverick, but an extremely likable one who has a legitimate reason for the chip on his shoulder. It turns out that Casey's entire unit died on a call because he didn't follow his gut, instead allowing himself to get bogged down by procedure and red tape. Haunted by being the only survivor, he trains cadets to learn from his mistakes and to run into the fire with the full intention of saving lives and not just avoiding legal controversy. According to an official CBS featurette on Padalecki's role on the show, he and series star and co-creator Max Thieriot have actually been friends for a long time off-camera. "We talked about it since day one," Padalecki reveals about his finding a spot on Fire Country. "He brings such a positive energy to the set and the people around him," Thieriot adds. Frankly, we can tell. Gabriela Perez actress Stephanie Arcila noted that Padalecki only spent about 10 minutes prepping for his introductory fight sequence at Smokey's, where he saves Bode's honor from some of Diego's (Rafael de la Fuente) old friends and instantly proves to be Season 3's breakout character. No one else on Fire Country is quite like Camden Casey, and his SoCal demeanor adds some flavor to a show where we've come to know the cast all too well. More than that, it's just fun to watch Jared Padalecki play such a different personality.

Bolded some of my favorite parts. There's more to the article but this section had some good stuff!

Link

I love that his reception is so well received! The spin-off vibes just keep getting stronger!

#ask box #jared padalecki #camden casey #fire country #fire country: surfside #speculation #jared padalecki appreciation

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months ago

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Nidia Cavazos at CBS News:

Former President Barack Obama will soon begin campaigning for Vice President Kamala Harris. He is set to embark on a blitz across the battleground states, with several events in the last month before Election Day. The former president will kick off his campaign efforts next Thursday, Oct. 10, in the Pittsburgh area. It's unclear if Harris will appear with him.

Obama has been a staunch supporter of Harris since she joined the top of the Democratic ticket, officially endorsing her just days after President Biden exited the race. Obama vowed to do anything he could to help Harris defeat former President Donald Trump. "Kamala Harris won't be focused on her problems, she'll be focused on yours," Obama said in an address at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago in August. "A president, she won't just cater to her own supporters and punish those who refuse to kiss the ring or bend the knee. She'll work on behalf of every American. That's who Kamala is." Harris and Obama have yet to appear together this cycle, and while it is not yet known if they will before Election Day, their relationship stems back to when the former president was seeking a Senate seat in Illinois. Harris also campaigned for Obama during his 2008 presidential run.

A familiar face will be back on the campaign trail to help get Kamala Harris over the finish line: Barack Obama.

October 10th in Pittsburgh will be the start of Obama being on the campaign trail with Harris for various rallies.

#Harris Rallies #Kamala Harris #Barack Obama #2024 Elections #2024 Presidential Election

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positivexcellence · 5 months ago

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Jared Padalecki Reflects on His 24-Year TV Run (‘I’m Pretty Tired’) and What’s Not Next After Walker Ends

“I’m grateful. Like, I’m not digging ditches. I’m not doing Red Cross work and saving human beings. But yeah, I’m pretty tired,” Padalecki says, adding that he’s “a little disillusioned about the state of the industry that I’ve loved and been employed with for 24 years. So I have a lot of thinking to do, and I have a lot of time to be with my wife and our kids, my friends, and think about where this industry is.”

Below, Padalecki opens up about Walker’s cancellation and why he doesn’t see another long-running TV series in his future.

TVLINE | Obviously, Supernatural was on a lot longer than Walker, but you were an executive producer on Walker, and you seemed to really bond with not only the cast but also the character of Cordell. So how has this letting go experience compared to that of Supernatural for you? With my experience on Gilmore Girls and Supernatural, we found ourselves in a similar situation, like around Seasons 3 and/or 4, where we were on the bubble, or there was a network change, or the head of the network changed, or there was a strike, or et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. So we didn’t know if we’d make it, and in both cases, the network believed in us and let us go as long as we wanted, and now, they’re like two of the top 10 most watched shows on Netflix, worldwide, every year. So I kind of, stupid me, I was hoping and assuming the same might happen… I knew there was a chance. There’s always a chance that the show’s not going to go, but I was like, “Well, we’re still the most watched. We’re not expensive.” So I didn’t know what to expect, and I haven’t yet had time to have closure with Walker.

With Supernatural, Jensen [Ackles] and I talked about it in our trailers on set for years, or during conventions in the green room, or at home, or flying together, or whatever, playing golf. We’d talk about it, and finally, Season 14, we kind of looked at each other, and we were like, “Hey, you know what, I think it’s time to go back to our families.” “Yeah, I think you’re right.” So we met with [CW President] Mark Pedowitz and said, like, “Hey, we’re going to do Season 15, but that’s it.” So we had a couple years, and we, ultimately, made the decision. I left Gilmore Girls to do Supernatural. Jensen and I decided to go ahead and let Supernatural end and give it a good send-off.

That was not the same situation with Walker, obviously. So I’m still kind of dealing with it, to be honest with you. I love the show. I’m so grateful for the four years that we had. I think back to during the pandemic, we were one of the first shows to go back to filming after COVID. We shot in October of 2020, and it was still masks and six feet away. There was just so much everybody went through: car accidents, and more COVIDs, and strep, and flu, and births, and deaths, and marriages, and divorces, and another strike, and this and that. So we had gone through so much together. We had weathered so many storms that I figured we had a lot more storms to weather. It’s not the way it worked out. But right now, I’m really focusing on how grateful I am, and will forever be, for the time I got to spend on Walker.

TVLINE | Given the circumstances, how do you feel about how the series ended and how the storylines were left off in the finale? To the credit of CW and CBS [Studios], when we shot the finale, when it was written, we didn’t know whether or not we were going to go for a fifth or further season, and they did not push us to try and wrap things up in a tidy little bow, which would’ve been really bad storytelling and a really bad episode. They kind of said, “Write the best episode you can. We don’t know if it’s going to go five years, or 10 years, or 30 years, or four years. So make it the best you can.” We knew, and [showrunner] Anna [Fricke] knew, and Blythe Ann Johnson knew — they wrote the finale together — that it was possible [it would end]. So when I think back on the finale, I think whether it was the end of Season 4 or the end of Season 104, I would’ve wanted all the characters to have a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, something to look forward to. And so, all the characters get a send-off and a salute of sorts, but it feels like a proper episode of television. It doesn’t feel like, “Oh, they are in a diner, and let’s just turn the cameras off.” But again, it’s so difficult to end. When you fall in love with a character, or several characters, or a story, for 69 episodes, like how do you end it?

So I’m grateful that we were able to create the best episode that we could without any incumbrances of like, “You better make sure everybody dies, or everybody gets a new job,” or something. Because how could you possibly end the story of all the Walkers and all their friends and been like, “Oh, yup, cool, don’t need to see them anymore”? Like, no matter how it ended, I would’ve wanted to see more of them, and so I’m very proud of the episode.

TVLINE | You went from Gilmore Girls straight to 15 seasons of Supernatural to Walker. Are you exhausted yet? I was exhausted 20 years ago. [Laughs] I am. I am exhausted. When I found out that Walker was not going to go for a fifth season, that was on a Tuesday, and I left for Europe on a Friday, part work, part fun. But I was in Europe for like three and a half weeks with family and a little bit of work, a lot of travel. So I’ve only been in the United States four days in the last month, and so, I haven’t really had time to fully grasp it. But yes, I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m grateful. Like, I’m not digging ditches. I’m not doing Red Cross work and saving human beings. But yeah, I’m pretty tired. I’m a little disillusioned about the state of the industry that I’ve loved and been employed with for 24 years. So I have a lot of thinking to do, and I have a lot of time to be with my wife and our kids, my friends, and think about where this industry is.

I haven’t had time to really reassess my life. I got into this industry when I was 17 years old on Gilmore Girls, and I, at the time, had my school schedule for UT Austin, and so, I thought I was going to do a couple episodes and go back to UT and pay off some student loans or something. That was 24 years ago, so I haven’t really had the time. And even during the writers’ strike in ’08, we were just waiting for it to end to go back and shoot Supernatural. The pandemic in 2020, I was just waiting for it to end, so I could go finish Supernatural and start Walker. The writers’ strike last year, just waiting for it to end, so we could pick up Walker.

I was in Europe for a while, and people would come up and take a picture and get an autograph or whatever and [ask], “So what’s next?” and for the first time in my entire life, I was like, “I don’t know.” “Oh, well, surely you have stuff. What’s next?” I was like, “Well, I don’t know.” They’re like, “Oh, you can’t tell us.” “No, no. It’s not I can’t tell you. I don’t have a job waiting for me,” which I’ve never said that in my adult life. So it’s interesting, and I’m going to surround myself with family and friends and loved ones, and try and figure out if I have anything else to offer that people want, and if I can be of service in storytelling, somehow, some way, then I guess I’ll put my proverbial cowboy hat back on and saddle up.

TVLINE | When you’re ready, though, do you imagine that you will want to do another TV series? I don’t think so. I don’t mind long TV, but I’ve heard it said many times, and I agree, that hour-long episodic television is the hardest job in the industry. If you’re Elijah Wood in Lord of the Rings, and it’s three three-hour long movies or whatever, it’s still like 18 months, you know? There’s an end in sight. With TV shows, sometimes it lasts 15 years, and sometimes they say, “Hey, where do you live? OK, we’re shooting in Vancouver.” You say, “But my family, my wife and kids are in Austin.” Like, “Well, good for them. They can come move up here. Here’s a thousand bucks to fly them out.” It’s not for the weak-spirited. Like, you really have to sacrifice a lot, and I’ve sacrificed everything I have to sacrifice for many, many years, and I think I’m at a point in my life where I want to spend more time with my wife and kids. If a job on a TV show comes up, like I’ve talked to Kripke about The Boys stuff, like, “Yeah, I’ll come play with you for a month. Yeah, I’ll come play with you for two months, for six weeks, or whatever,” or, “Yeah, I’ll come pop in a week out of every month for the next three months.”

But a classic TV contract is a six-year contract. My oldest son is 12, my middle son is 10, my daughter is seven. So if I sign a six-year contract, and they’re filming in Alaska, then I miss my son getting a driver’s license, I miss him graduating high school, I miss his first girlfriend or boyfriend, his first heartbreak, his basketball games, I miss my other son’s driving test, I miss my daughter turning into a teenager, and then I’m leaving [my wife] Gen, too. It’s a big commitment. So I don’t foresee myself doing that unless, again, it was in Austin, and I was the executive producer that could be involved in knowing the show and making sure the cast and crew all did it in as efficient a way as possible.

TV LINE

#jared padalecki

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mostlysignssomeportents · 11 months ago

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The REAL AI automation threat to workers

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.

Long before the current wave of AI hype, we were being groomed for automation panics with misleading stories. Remember this one? "'Truck driver' is the most common job in America. Self-driving trucks are just around the corner. How can we prevent America's army of truckers from turning into a howling mob when the robots steal their jobs?"

https://futurism.com/millions-of-jobs-are-at-risk-but-their-loss-could-be-for-the-greater-good

It was absolute nonsense. First of all, "truck driver" isn't a particularly common job in America! The BLS lumps together all cargo vehicle drivers under a single classification. The category error here was thinking that every delivery van driver, furniture mover, and courier is behind the wheel of a big rig, cracking wise on a CB radio as they tear up the interstate.

But what about automation threats? It's possible that if we redesigned the interstates to give 16 wheelers their own separated lanes, and then set them to following one another, that they could traverse long distances in that way. Congratulations, you've just invented a shitty, failure-prone train.

"Shitty train AI" does not threaten the job of the vast number of people the BLS classifies as "truck drivers." For one thing, "shitty train AI" isn't going to pilot a UPS van around the streets of a busy city with other road users. Sure, a few robotaxi companies have bamboozled city governments into conscripting the city's residents into an uncontrolled murderbot experiment. These are not going well:

https://www.cbsnews.com/sanfrancisco/news/9-key-leaders-depart-gms-cruise-amid-ongoing-investigation-into-san-francisco-incident/

More than $100b has been set on fire chasing the robotaxi dream, and the result is most charitably described as a technological curiosity, requiring 1.5 high-waged remote technicians to replace each low-waged driver:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

But even if we could perfect this technology, robots still wouldn't replace all those "truckers" who drive delivery vans (to say nothing of moving vans!). The hard part of driving a UPS van isn't just getting it from place to place – it's getting the parcel into the place. The robo-van would still need at least one person to get the parcel from the back of the van and into the reception desk, porch, or other delivery zone. It's not going to fire those parcels at your door with a catapult. It's also not going to deliver them by drones. Drone delivery is another one of those historical curiosities, capable of delivering a very narrow range of parcels, under even narrower circumstances:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/05/comprehensive-sex-ed/#droned

If all UPS delivered was lightweight, non-fragile rectangular parcels ordered by people with large, unobstructed back yards, then sure. Congrats, you've just created the world's least-useful parcel delivery service!

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2022/06/amazon-drone-delivery-service-seeks-faa-approval-to-launch-in-2022/

All that said, the big rig drivers probably don't need to worry about robots stealing their jobs. It's not even clear that "shitty train" is within our technological grasp, but even if it is, there's yet another problem with the AI automation trucker jobpocalypse: "trucker" is already one of the worst jobs in America:

https://www.usatoday.com/pages/interactives/news/rigged-forced-into-debt-worked-past-exhaustion-left-with-nothing/

It's hard to overstate just how fucking terrible it is to be a trucker. Truckers are trapped in abusive debt holes by their employers – who misclassify their workforce as "contractors" in a bid to sidestep labor law. Shriven of any labor rights, truckers are forced into the most ghastly, body-destroying, family-wrcking, financially precarious existence imaginable.

You can drive a truck for years, give almost all of the money you earn back to your employer (who denies that you're their employee) to pay back the usurious loan for your truck. Then, your employer can underschedule for shifts so that you miss a loan payment, and they can repo your truck and keep the six-figure repayment you've already made to them, leaving you destitute.

They can force you to work for hours – days! – without pay while you wait for loading and dispatch. They can make you drive long past the point of safety, then, if (when) you get into a wreck, they can fine you for not taking the mandated rest breaks.

Now, these drivers aren't about to be replaced by AI – but that doesn't mean that AI won't affect their jobs. Commercial drivers are among the most heavily surveilled workers in the country. Amazon's drivers (whom Amazon misclassifies as subcontractors) have their eyeballs monitored by AI;

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

AIs monitor the voices of the (primarily Black, primarily female) workforce at Arise – homeworkers who field customer service calls for blue-chip companies like Carnival Cruises and Disney. They're listening for unruly children or pets in the background, and workers who fail to muffle these dependents lose the contracts they have to pay to train for:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/22/paperback-writer/#toothless

And AI monitors the conduct of workers on temp-work apps. If a worker is dispatched to a struck workplace and refuses to cross the picket-line, the AI boss fires you and blacklists you from future jobs for refusing to robo-scab:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

Writing in The Guardian, Steven Greenhouse describes the AI-enabled workplace, where precarious, often misclassified workers are monitored, judged, and fined by algorithms:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2024/jan/07/artificial-intelligence-surveillance-workers

Whether it's the robot that gets you disciplined for sending an email with the word "union" in it or the robot that takes money out of your paycheck if you take a bathroom break, AI has come for the workplace with a vengeance.

Here's a supreme irony: nearly all of the beneficial applications for AI require that AI be used to help workers, not replace them, which is absolutely not how AI is used in the workplace. An AI that helps radiologists by giving them a second opinion might help them find tumors on x-rays, but that's a tool that reduces the number of scans a radiologist processes in a shift, by making them go back and reconsider the scans they've already processed:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

But AI's sales pitch is not "Buy an AI tool and increase your costs while increasing your accuracy." The pitch for AI is "buy and AI and save money by firing workers." Given how bad AIs are at replacing humans, this is a bad deal all around, both for the worker who loses their job and the customer who gets the substandard product the AI makes.

There is a very limited slice of applications where an AI could make a lot of money for a company that deploys it, without costing that company anything when the AI screws up. For example, AI is a really good tool for fraud! Rather than paying people to churn out millions of variations on a phishing email, you can get an AI to do it. If the AI writes a bad phishing email, it's OK, since nearly all recipients of even good phishing emails delete them. What's more, no one will fine you or publish an op-ed demanding that your board of directors fire you if you buy an incompetent AI to commit fraud. Fraud is a high-value, low-consequence environment for using AI.

Another one of those applications is managing precarious workers who don't have labor rights. If the AI unfairly docks your worker's wages, or forces them to work until they injure themselves or others, or decides that their eyeball movements justify firing them, those workers have no recourse. That's the whole point of pretending that your employees are contractors: so you can violate labor law with impunity!

But that's not the ironic part. The ironic part is that "being a shitty boss" is the one AI application that companies are willing to increase their net spending on. No one buys an eyeball-monitoring AI so they can fire a manager. This is the one place where AI is there to augment, rather than replace, an employee.

This makes AI-based bossware subtly different from other forms of Taylorism, the "scientific management" fad of the early 20th century that saw management consultants choreographing the postures and movements of workers to satisfy the aesthetic fetishes of their employers:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

The pseudoscientific cod-ergonomics of the 1900s was demeaning and even dangerous, but it wasn't automated, and if it increased worker output, this was incidental to the real purpose of making workers move like the machine-cogs their bosses reassured themselves they were:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Every AI panic is a way of deflecting attention from the real, grimy, here-and-now ways that AI is destroying our lives by demanding that we entertain nonsensical science fiction claims about large, shiny existential risks that AI might present in the future.

The "X-risk" of the spicy autocomplete chatbot waking up and using its newfound sentience to turn us all into paperclips is nonsense. Adding words to the plausible sentence generator doesn't turn it into a superintelligence for the same reason that selectively breeding faster horses doesn't lead to locomotives:

https://locusmag.com/2020/07/cory-doctorow-full-employment/

But there is a way that AI could destroy the human race! The carbon footprint and water consumption associated with training and operating large-scale models are significant contributors to the climate emergency, which threatens the habitability of the only planet in the known universe capable of sustaining human life:

https://www.forbes.com/sites/federicoguerrini/2023/04/14/ais-unsustainable-water-use-how-tech-giants-contribute-to-global-water-shortages/

Likewise, AI isn't going to replace you at work. But it's already augmenting your shitty boss's ability to rip you off, torment you, maim you and even kill you in order to eke out a few more basis points for the next shareholder report.

Science fiction is a fun and useful way to tell parables about our current technologies. But it's not a roadmap for the future. The fact that sf writers like me found AIs as useful measures to describe Earth's dominant artificial life form – the limited liability corporation – doesn't mean that superhuman AIs should – or can – be created.

Back the Kickstarter for the DRM-free audiobook of The Bezzle, read by Tumblr's own @wilwheaton!

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/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #labor #ai #disciplinary technology #bossware #automation #robots stole my jerb #surveillance #privacy first

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jsab-corruptedbond · 4 months ago

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This has been roaming around my head for awhile so i decided to ask!! what happens if ur blixer was a slightly different story like instead of his parent being a spider what would if he actually have a bio logical parents? Would his parents have the same look as him or one of them has a different look or depends?

Bonus question: instead of mr spidey being his parent and he actually had biological parents would his story would be more different?? Like maybe more traumatizing and has past lores etc ?

oh I LOVE thinking about "what if's" scenarios I have multiple versions of CB (that end up not used) as for Blixer parents aspect or how he lived, it varies from cuda and lycan being his cave buddies and friends to having no parents and friends in the cave at all. Giving him parents didn't cross my mind at all at first because his reason for existing already kinda set (macabres wish) heck... even when i was 10 pages in the comic spidey didn't exist until i decided "hey if a spider adopt him, raised him to be good and suddenly blixer loose his sanity, wouldn't that make it more sad compared to him living alone?" and so spidey exist and i mention him in the boat with cuda scene + side comic to make up for my silly mid comic rewrite. It also shows he's not as violent as people think he is since he's LITERALLY RAISED BY SPIDERS, 10X TINY THAN HIM Now if we change it up and blixer have bio parents, a lot of things can change: > Blixer Identity Crisis is less intense. He got parents, who raised him, BIRTHED HIM. Unlike the in the comic where he just pops up out of no where and someone adopted him. Sure in both versions he got a loving family but you get the gist right? > Blixer mom is the first shape he accidentally corrupt. He got the curse of corrupting everything he touch, so his pure parents are now corrupt and THEY get the beating instead of Blixer. In the comic Spidey can't do much to protect him physically since he's tiny compared to blixer > HE'S GOT BASIC HUMAN NEEDS, lets say his dad isn't corrupt, he still can go outside and provide for the family there's a LOT more i can list (but it is 1:30 AM i'm getting sleepy lmao) but basically giving Blixer bio parents will make his backstory less traumatic......unless i killed them......... when he's young.... now to actually answer your first question lmao- yes i think his bio parents would look similar to him, heck i try to make macabres design similar to blixer since she wish for him and stuff

#ask #doodle #extras #jsab #just shapes and beats #corrupted bond #jsab cb

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crissiebaby · 4 months ago

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jedi-luca · 1 year ago

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Avenger Lane Chapter 10: Bad Romance

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention?

Parings: Quinn Fabray x Reader / eventual Natasha x Reader(slow burn)

Warnings: Reader has a Penis, mentions of drug use

Previous Chapter. Next chapter

You were sound asleep when the door busted open. You gasped, jolting awake still half asleep.

“Oh my gosh!” Quinn gasped, falling out of bed thankful you both had clothes on.

“Happy boythday papa!” Finley beamed holding a cup cake and Beth holding breakfast.

“Aw thanks sugar booger.” You say sleepily as your daughters climb up in bed.

“Mom, can you light it please?” Beth urged her mom handing her the lighter.

“Hmhm.” Quinn blinked awake taking the cup cake and setting it on Beth’s table.

Finley climbed up on the bed with a huge smile on her face. “Papa, it’s your boythday! Yayyyyy!” She clapped.

“Hmhm.” You yawned, smiling.

Quinn smiled sleepily as she and the girls began singing happy birthday.

“And many more on channel 4, and scooby do on channel 2, and a big fat lady on channel 80, and all the rest on CBS!” Beth giggled, finishing along with a great attempt from her little sister.

“Aw thank you sweets.” You smiled, kissing all of your girls on the cheek.

You lift the cinnamon waffle and give your daughters a piece as well as your wife before eating yours.

“Hmmm tasty!” Finley hummed.

“I’m still hungry… I think I need a little girl to eat!” You began tickling Finley and Beth’s laughter filling the house.

Quinn recorded all of it on her phone and posted it on social media. Where your neighbor Natasha just watched. You looked so happy and so did the girls. The secret Tony gave her is eating her up inside.

Nat turned her head seeing you snuggling with your family as you all watched a movie.

‘Ugh how am I supposed to tell Y/N?’ she thought to herself.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

So far your birthday was going great. You spoke to your parents for a while, leaving out the tidbit of Quinn getting pregnant. You were coming back from dinner after dropping off your daughters with their aunt when you opened the front door.

“SURPRISE!!!!”

You jolted in place, placing a hand over your heart with a grin. “Aww guys!” They’re were streamers everywhere and a large banner that read ‘Happy Birthday’

“Surprise motha fucka!” Santana and Brittany jumped you.

“Oof!” You felt the air leave your lungs feeling Santana give you a hug.

“Happy birthday best friend.” Mike smiled, taking the next hug.

“Thanks man.” You grinned.

Soon the gleeks all hugged you at once finally allowing your new found friends to get in on the love.

First Tony, the Barton’s, Steve, Peggy, and Bucky of course. Thor lifts you up along with Val and Carol. The Stranges nodding towards you. You completely forgot about them. They’re the only ones your wife truly liked. Truthfully you found Steven Strange a bit of an ass thankfully his wife keeps him in check.

Wanda and Vis, May and Happy. The Quills, Scott and Hope, Shaun and Kate, Marc and Layla, but the best was for last.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” Natasha smiled softly, hugging you close.

“Thanks Nat.” You squeezed her back.

Quinn loudly clapped her hands, startling you. “Alright drinks and karaoke time!”

You let go of Natasha and all of you made your way to the back.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Hey I was wondering where you went off too.” Natasha smiled seeing you in the kitchen.”

“Just needed a breather.” You muttered vaping your weed pen.

“Sure it wasn’t because Rachel is singing with Quinn?” The redhead kinked her brow.

“…No.” You muttered drinking the rest of your drink. You were crossfaded and ready to get shit faced.

“Hmhm.” The redhead chuckled sitting on the counter where you were leaning.

You grinned looking down at her jean covered legs.

“I got you something.” She said softly, taking it out of her pocket.

“Whhhat? You shouldn’t have.” You chuckled, taking the small box in your hand. You unwrapped it, opened the box and took out a necklace with the initials of your daughters on it.

“If you look through the top you’ll see them.” She smiled watching your jaw drop. You could see a picture of you and your little girls from the time you were in Natasha’s pool.

“Nat this is… thank you. I love it.” You chuckled, hugging her tightly against you. “It’s a really thoughtful and sweet gift. I love it.” You hand her the necklace to place it on you. She leaned in, unclasping the hook before placing it on you and leaning back again.

“You’re welcome.” She said softly, you were both close and you don’t know if it’s her scent or being crossfaded but you have an urge to take her like a caveman. God, you get so horny when you drink. Her arms are still loosely hanging around your neck. You’re so close between her legs she can feel your bulge growing she leans in lightly kissing your cheek. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you…Where is Bruce?” You ask softly, stepping closer feeling her legs nudge you closer.

Natasha shrugs, she doesn’t have the energy to lie, not when she’s buzzed and can smell your scent.

“He doesn’t deserve you Nat.” You say boldly caressing her cheek.

She’s just going to tell you. Tell you her marriage is a sham, tell you that Quinn is the one that doesn’t deserve you. The words are on the edge of her lips when you start leaning closer “Y/N-” She husks arching her back ever so lightly to lighten the ache between her legs.

“You deserve so much better.”

“The same could be said for you.” She whispers her hands now cupping our cheeks. She can feel how hard you are and God she just wants you to take her right there on the counter with your bitchy wife right outside. She arches once more so she can rub herself against you ever so slightly. You both hold eye contact as your hands hook beneath her legs. You’re both so close to pouncing one another when the back door opens. You both feel like the bubble has been burst. You both clear your throats as she pats your chest gently pushing you back a bit so she can get down. You turn slightly to rearrange your package discreetly.

“Hey Y/N.” Rachel cleared her throat, eyeing Natasha. “Quinn is looking for you.”

“Right.” You sigh softly remembering who you are married to. You feel a little sick thinking of the way you almost just ruined it due to a buzz. You walk away without giving Natasha another look afraid Rachel will sniff out what just transpired.

“So Quinn is right, you do want Y/N. It’s funny how they’re onto us yet they haven’t done anything about it.” Rachel says softly looking around the kitchen.

“Truly do not know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry, who are you?” Natasha furrowed her brow.

“I’m Rachel Berry.” The small brunette looked almost offended; everyone who had watched a musical or walked down Broadway knew her. “I started the glee club. Went to school with Quinn and Y/N. Tony award winning actress?”

“Ahh I see.”

“You know…” Rachel walks closer standing next to the Russian redhead. For once she met someone who was her height. “Maybe we could work together?” The starlet shrugged.

Natasha’s eyes widened realizing what she was implying.

“I can admit they would be better off divorced. Don’t you think?” Rachel furrowed her brow. “They’re both obviously unhappy.”

“I think you may be a little crazy.” Natasha chuckled, starting to walk past Rachel.

“Call me crazy but I see the way you look at Y/N, and I saw the way Y/N looked at you. You were seconds away from christening this countertop. You almost had Y/N. Almost. Your demise was doing it here in the kitchen. You’d have to do it somewhere no one would barge in and catch you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N and I are friends. I am married.”

“Hmm. Hmhm. If it helps I’ve never seen Y/N look at any woman like that before. Not even Quinn. If we work together we could have them ya know… it wouldn’t take much. Their marriage has been threatening to crumble for a year now.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you’re implying breaking up a marriage it’s sickening.” Natasha gripped the handle when Rachel stopped her.

“I know you want Y/N. I’m not afraid to tell you I want Quinn. I’ve wanted her since high school. Y/N treats Quinn great no doubt but Quinn? The same can’t be said for her and everyone knows it. Just think about it huh? This little convo stays between us.” With that Rachel slips out of the back door like a snake as Natasha stands there in shock.

Natasha steadied her breathing a lot just happened and she needs to go back outside and act like it didn’t. God she has so much to tell you now and no idea how to do it.

The door opens again this time revealing Wanda.

“Hey, there you are! Come on Y/N is about to play us a song Quinn got them a new guitar… are you okay?” Wanda quickly notices that her best friend was absolutely not okay.

“I have so much to tell you.” Natasha sighed.

“Do you wanna get out of here and talk about it at my place?”

“No, no, I want to watch Y/N play. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

“Okay.” Wanda hugs her best friend tightly, helping her relax a bit. “Come on, I'll make you a drink.”

They both make their way back to the party when you are getting ready to play. Tina is back on bass, Blaine is on the keyboard, and although you’re missing Finn on drums Carol takes up the mantle claiming to be a drum God.

“Hey dude you okay?” Mike asked as you took a bump of coke. “How’d you even get that?”

“Santana.” You mutter taking a shot.

“Hey I haven’t seen you this way since Finn died. What happened?” He asks, taking you aside making you put the joint down.

“I think I almost just fucked up my marriage.” You hissed.

“With who?” Mike’s eyes widened. This was not you whatsoever. You lived for your family, you would never be the type to cheat.

“Nat.” You whisper.

“Oh wow. What happened?”

“She gave me a gift and I… Mike I got bricked up and we almost… We almost kissed and if we had I would have-” You inhale deeply about to have a panic attack.

“Heyyy whoa… Breathe.” He said holding your shoulders. “In.” He inhaled with you. “Now out.” He exhaled, nodding. “That’s it. Listen bud you didn’t cheat. Did you almost… yeah probably but you didn’t. You’re high and buzzed. I know Brittany gave you a mushroom you microdosed with her, vaping from your pen, drinking, and I don’t even know how much coke you’ve been doing. The thing is you’re out of it right now. It meant nothing.”

“I don’t know Mike.” You shook your head. “I was so close to ruining everything.”

“Hey stop it. It’s your birthday. You got carried away. You both probably won’t even remember this tomorrow. Now take a deep breath and go play your heart out.”

“Mike… Do you think Quinn doesn’t deserve me?”

Mike’s eyes widened a bit in a state of shock.

“Do you think I made a mistake marrying her? My parents did… Finn did…Sersi and now Nat-”

“Hey come on you’re spiraling.”

“But-”

“You’re spiraling.” Mike shook his head.

“Hey there you are!” Quinn smiled.

“Come on, everyone wants to hear you play!”

Quinn ushers you on the patio platform in front of the mic.

“I just want to thank all of you for coming out tonight. Thank you to my wife for setting this all up. Thank you all for the gifts and the drinks-”

“The drugs!” Santana cackled Quinn glaring at her.

The neighbors all chuckled. “I’ll take some!” Tony laughed as Pepper smacked his arm. “Ow honey I’m kidding.”

“Anyway thanks for letting me jam out with my old band. This one goes out to Finn I really fucking miss you man.”

“Here here!” Mike clapped with the rest of the gleeks.

You pour one out for your old best friend before downing another shot.

You turn around counting with your band. Carol nodded and began drumming the first few beats before you and Tina joined in shredding it up.

“All her signals are getting lost in the ether

(That's what she wanted)

She's a landslide with a city beneath her

(That's what she wanted)

So take a good look so you'll never forget it

(That's what she wanted)

Take a deep breath, I know I'm gonna regret it

(That's what she wanted)

Holly's lookin' dry, lookin' for an easy target

Let her slit my throat, give her ammo if she'll use it

Caution on the road, lies, lies and hidden danger

Southern Ohio’s breeding mommy's little monster

She's got a mission, and I'm collateral damage

(That's what she wanted)

She's the flower that you place on my casket

(That's what she wanted)

Savor the moment 'cause the memory's fleeting

Take a photograph as the last train is leaving”

Quinn always hated this song; she just knew you were singing about her. How could you not?

“Holly's lookin' dry, lookin' for an easy target

Let her slit my throat, give her ammo if she'll use it

Caution on the road, lies, lies and hidden danger

Southern Ohio’s breeding mommy's little monster

“Think she’s singing about Quinn?” Tony asked leaning up to speak to Natasha. The redhead nodded, not saying a word. Truthfully she’s still thinking about what almost happened.

“(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me out

(Better run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run) Holly, let me ouuuut!”

“Yeahh!” Tony cheered loudly, clapping his hands.

“Damn I didn’t know Y/N could jam like a rockstar!” Sam chuckled.

“Kind of sexy.” Bucky muttered.

“Really?” Steve huffed.

“Okay but they’re super gay right?” Kurt whispered to his husband eyeing Steve and Bucky.

“You can see it from space.” Blaine nodded.

“Poor Peggy.” They cringed seeing her sit next to her husband.

“Alright I'm gonna need my wife, Kurt, Mercedes, and Santana to come up here.”

You turn around briefly whispering to your band mates before turning around and strumming your guitar.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance. Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

“Ahhh this is my song bitch!” Santana laughed as the rest of the women and Kurt stand around the mic.

Everyone began to cheer before singing along. It was always a hit. Thankfully the gleeks remember whose part is whose.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance!” Kurt sang.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance” everyone sang next.

“I want your ugly, I want your disease I want your everything as long as it's free I want your love” Tina sang before moving so Mercedes could sing next.

“Love, love, love, I want your love (hey) I want your drama, the touch of your hand (hey) I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand I want your love

“Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

Quinn stood next to you and began singing the part that always drove you crazy.

“You know that I want you And you know that I need youI want it bad, your bad romance.” She bit your ear before you sang next looking right at Natasha.

“I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

Natasha gulped, were you sending her a message or was this just ironic?

“Oh my god what happened in that house Y/N was totally singing to you!” Wanda hissed near her ear.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Nat muttered.

“Ugh, the suspense is killing me.” Wanda whined.

“Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance”

“I want your horror, I want your design 'Cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine I want your love” Mercedes sang. “Love, love, love, I want your love”

“I want your psycho, your vertigo shtick (hey) Want you in my rear window, baby, you're sick I want your love” Santana sang.

“Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

“You know that I want you And you know that I need you ('cause I'm a free bitch, baby) I want it bad, your bad romance”

You desperately wanted to know what Natasha sounds like if she sang that part. You shake your head before singing your part.

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ah Roma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance

Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, fashion baby Work it, move that bitch crazy Walk, walk, passion baby Work it, I'm a free bitch, baby

“I want your love, and I want your revenge

I want your love, I don't wanna be friends

J'veux ton amour, et je veux ta revanche

J'veux ton amour, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) No, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh, caught in a bad romance) I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) Want your bad romance! (oh-oh-oh)”

Damn Santana still has it.

“Caught in a bad romance Want your bad romance I want your love, and I want your revenge You and me could write a bad romance (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh) I want your love and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh (Want your bad romance) Caught in a bad romance (Want your bad romance) Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh (Want your bad romance) Caught in a bad romance Rah, rah-ah-ah-ahRoma, roma-ma Gaga, ooh-la-la Want your bad romance”

Everyone cheered and clapped.

“How often do you think they play this song?” Pepper glared at her husband. “I’m just saying they all had a part.” Tony shrugged.

“How many times must I remind you. They were in glee club together in high school.” Pepper grit.

“Good times!” You chuckled as the gleeks hugged and walked off the makeshift stage. “This next one was Finn’s favorite song so it’s a must. Feel free to sing along and pour one out for my boy.”

“Bet.” Sam Wilson nodded, pouring some into the grass.

“Sam it got on my boots.” Bucky gruffed.

“It’s for a fellow fallen soldier Buck, show some respect.” Sam Wilson glared.

As soon as the band began playing the intro Steve stood jumping up and down. “This is one of my favorites too!”

“Oh my.” Bucky muttered, clearly judging his booyfriend.

“Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo”

“I'm packed and I'm holding

I'm smiling, she's living, she's golden

She lives for me, says she lives for me

Ovation, her own motivation

She comes round and she goes down on me

And I make you smile, like a drug for you

Do ever what you wanna do, coming over you

Keep on smiling, what we go through

One stop to the rhythm that divides you

And I speak to you like the chorus to the verse

Chop another line like a coda with a curse

Come on like a freak show takes the stage

We give them the games we play, she said-“

“I want something else to get me through this

Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby

I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

Doo doo doo

The sky was gold, it was rose

I was taking sips of it through my nose

And I wish I could get back there, someplace back there

Smiling in the pictures you would take

Doing crystal meth, will lift you up until you break

It won't stop, I won't come down

I keep stock with a tick-tock rhythm, a bump for the drop

And then I bumped up, I took the hit that I was given

Then I bumped again, then I bumped again

I said

How do I get back there to the place where I fell asleep inside you

How do I get myself back to the place where you said

I want something else to get me through this

Semi-charmed kinda life, baby, baby

I want something else, I'm not listening when you say good-bye

I believe in the sand beneath my toes

The beach gives a feeling, an earthy feeling

I believe in the faith that grows

And that four right chords can make me cry

When I'm with you I feel like I could die

And that would be alright, alright

And when the plane came in, she said she was crashing

The velvet it rips in the city, we tripped on the urge to feel alive

Now I'm struggling to survive

Those days you were wearing that velvet dress

You're the priestess, I must confess

Those little red panties they pass the test

Slides up around the belly, face down on the mattress

One

And you hold me, and we are broken

Still it's all that I wanna do, just a little now

Feel myself, heading off the ground

I'm scared, I'm not coming down

No, no

And I won't run for my life

She's got her jaws now locked down in a smile

But nothing is alright, alright

And I want something else to get me through this life

Baby, I want something else

Not listening when you say

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

The sky was gold, it was rose

I was taking sips of it through my nose

And I wish I could get back there

Someplace back there, in the place we used to start

Doo doo doo, doo doo-doo doo

I want something else

Steve clapped and whistled loudly. “Fuck yeah!”

“He said a bad word.” Tony snorted.

You walked over to the Natasha with a grin.

“Sing a song for me?” You asked the redhead.

“Oh I don’t know-”

“Please? It’s my birthday. You can pick the song.”

Natasha sighed and nodded, taking your hand. You gave a lopsided grin and kissed the top of her hand.

You lead her up the patio. “What do you wanna sing?”

“I think you know.” She kinks her brow and you know exactly what to play.

You take up your acoustic guitar and begin picking the strings before looking over at her.

“Boy, tell me, can you take my breath away?

Cruisin' down a heart-shaped highway

Got you swervin' lane-to-lane, don't hit the brakes

'Cause I'm feelin' so safe

I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, why don't we get out of town?

Call me your baby, on the same wave

Oh, no, no, there's no slowin' down!”

You grin at her, your eyes never having left hers and join her in the chorus.

“You and I, I

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i”

Quinn is bristling at this exchange especially when the redhead stands up and threads her fingers in your hair.

“Let me run my fingers through your salty hair

Go ahead, explore the island

Vibes so real that you can feel it in the air

I'm revvin' up your engine”

Natasha taps your chin and continues the song.

“I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, why don't we get out of town? (Why don't we get out of town?)

Call me your baby, catch the same wave

Oh, no, no, there's no slowin' down (let's go)”

“Quinn is going to kill Y/N.” Kurt muttered

“Okay but I’m loving this, their chemistry is through the roof!” Blaine smiled.

“You and I, I

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

No, no

You and I (you and I, I)

Ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'm on the back, I'm holdin' tight, I

Want you to take me for a ri-ide, ride

When I hula-hula, hula

So good, you'll take me to the jeweler-jeweler, jeweler

There's pink and purple in the sky-y-y

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i-i

I'll be your baby, on a Sunday

Oh, whoa

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i

Call me your baby, catch the same wave

Oh, whoa

We're ridin' Harleys in Hawaii-i"

You quickly placed the guitar down and clapped whistling to cheer her on. You looked towards the crowd but didn’t see Quinn. Low and behold you couldn’t find Rachel either. You save that for later and focus on Natasha.

“That was beautiful Nat.” You chuckled and hugged her.

“Damn she’s sexy, Russian, and can sing?” Santana gawked with her wife Brittany.

“I know! No wonder Quinn is so jealous of her.” Brittany muttered.

“Where is that bitch anyway?” Santana squinted her eyes as she scanned the crowd.

“She went inside and so did Berry.” Brittany looked at her wife.

“Fuck Quinn.” Santana groaned.

Steve walked over to Bucky. “Buck.” He hissed.

“What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost, or worse a naked woman.” He chuckled.

“Well.” Steve inhaled looking at you and Natasha.

“Oh shit you did.” Bucky chuckled. “Who?”

“Quinn and Rachel.” He whispered.

“What!?” Bucky exclaimed, making some people look over.

“Keep your voice down. It’s Y/N’s birthday.” He grit.

“I knew Quinn was no good.” Bucky muttered.

“Well we aren’t either. We are doing the exact same thing.”

“Hey take it easy, you said you were going to tell Peggy before she leaves again.”

Steve nodded watching Quinn and Rachel trickle out of the house.

“Do they know?” Bucky asked, looking away from them.

“No but they know someone knows. I broke a vase; I was in such shock.” He muttered.

“You’re going to have to tell Y/N.”

“Fuck.” Steve sighed he hated cursing but he knew this situation called for it. You and Quinn seemed so happy but then again he and Peggy did too. He knew he had to tell her and fast.

⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗ ⧗

“Okay spill.” Wanda said, placing a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of Natasha.

“Ughhhhh Wands!” Natasha whined banging her head on the table.

“Stop! Start from the beginning.” Wanda placed a plate of pancakes down.

“Remember how we had a football match back in August?”

“Yeaaaah.” Wanda nodded. “I had major FOMO that day.”

“Well Tony dropped a bombshell on me. Apparently someone close to Y/N turned down their full ride to MIT.”

“Oh my gosh!!! Shut up no!” Wanda gasped, her hand going over her mouth.

“Yes!”

“My money's on Quinn. She probably got scared Y/N would leave her and Beth or something.”

“I think it’s her too but Tony said we can’t just assume we need to talk to Y/N, but-“

“Neither of you want to break their family apart.” Wanda nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“So now I have this bigger secret than my fake relationship with Bruce, and now on top of that I have another that I don’t even know what to do with!”

“Oh my gosh what?! You’re killing me!” Wanda whined.

“Y/N and I had a moment in the kitchen last night.” Natasha sighed.

“Nat.” Wanda sighed. “Y/N is married-”

“I know!”

“I told you that gift was too personal-”

“But-”

“But no Nat. Listen. I love you but this is wrong.”

“I know.” Nat sighed. “I think it was just the alcohol… the only reason I brought that up is because of Rachel Berry.”

“The short one that kept singing broadway songs?”

“Yes! Anyway she cornered me right after and suggested we break them up.”

“What the hell? Hasn’t she been their friend since highschool?!”

“Yes!”

“What did she say?”

“She said she knows I like Y/N and she likes Quinn and thinks they should divorce that they aren’t truly happy together.”

“What a weirdo.” Wanda gasped.

“She told me to think about it. Now I have to tell Y/N that their career was stolen from them, and their old friend is a snake.” Natasha sighed. “Wands what do I do?”

“Honestly, I would like to know if it happened to me.”

“But how do I even begin to tell Y/N? This is going to break Y/N’s heart, and worse, what if they don’t believe me?”

“You’ll have to treat it like a band aid.” Wanda sighed, taking a sip of her coffee.

“This could ruin their relationship.”

“Or it could strengthen it.” Wanda raised her brow.

It was quiet for a beat when Vis walked in.

“I think the real question is Nat do you have feelings for Y/N?”

“Vis what the hell?” Wanda grit.

“I’m sorry I was hungry and didn’t want to interrupt!” He said, grabbing a plate.

“What do my feelings have to do with what happened?” Natasha asked.

“Because if you have feelings and you are both married granted yours is a sham-”

“Vis!” Wanda smacked his arm.

“I just mean if you have feelings for a married person you need to distance yourself.”

“Oh don’t worry after I speak with Y/N I’m sure they’ll stop talking to me.” Natasha smiled sarcastically. She was stuck between a rock in a hard place. One she's falling for you, two she needs to tell you her marriage is a sham, three someone stole your chance at MIT. How does someone even begin to unload all of that information?

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #avenger lane #natasha x y/n #quinn fabray x reader #faberry

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