#Property PR

[carmine2023pr]

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[superbat-lmao]

Jason Todd gets blown up, resurrected, and after regaining his skills and control from Talia, goes back to Gotham and goes back to school. He leaves vigilantism entirely.

He’s taking literature and philosophy classes and just about anything to do with writing.

He makes friends, he’s on his way to normalcy.

And then he sees an opening for an opinion writer for the school newspaper.

Clark Kent gets sent the same newspaper article to read in both his civilian and superhero personas. If that’s not concerning, he doesn’t know what it.

It’s an opinion article on the state of vigilantism and hero work by a student in the next town over. And it’s a problem.

Because it’s good, too good. It feels like someone had sat in the watchtower during those first few months where everyone had been trying to work out how to function with so many different stances on morality and ethics. Should any of them really be doing this? What were the lines they couldn’t cross? If we’re working outside the law, what moral credibility do we have otherwise to justify our actions?

And sure, Clark’s written more than a few pieces criticizing Superman, but there’s a point to that. He has his own reasons. This kid, well, Clark isn’t sure of their reasons exactly. Because his gut reaction is thinking this kid is just making heroes and vigilantes look bad.

And there’s a reason that all of his and Bruce’s debates on ethics happen behind closed doors. Because to be self critical is to try and prevent hubris, but to allow public criticism at this level is to lose the faith of the public.

So Clark is torn. Because if he responds, he gives credibility to what could remain a largely unknown article. And if he doesn’t, he can’t control the reaction of other people start responding to it.

He’ll have to talk to Bruce.

[pedrism]

tchouameni breaking the press backdrop and a CAMERA after the match is just ridiculous. such unprofessional behaviour and really can’t be justified. bad calls are made in football all the time, this is not how to deal with it…

[hawkesque]

so much happening in my fandom life lately. i think the universe is making up for the fact that i have absolutely nothing going on irl

[rinconprrentals]

2 bedroom vacation cottage rincon pr

https://www.rinconprrentals.com/wave-coast.php

[frr-immigration]

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Social Media: Llinkedin,.Youtube

[hello-offices]

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[kiragecko]

Story Idea

Telekinetic supervillain who REALLY loves historical architecture. Living in a superhero universe where heroes keep crashing through stained glass windows and leveling entire streets. As well as the normal corruption causing building to be demolished or “restored” in extremely destructive ways.

Kinda has Poison Ivy vibes, without any of the femme fatale trappings - her entire focus is preserving historical valuable buildings, and she doesn’t really care if humans that get in the way die. But she also isn’t going out of her way to kill people.

And the leader of the local superhero team can see where she’s coming from. And decides that just throwing her in jail every time she acts up is a sign they’re failing in their duty to protect the city. Instead, he starts trying to gain her trust. He doesn’t care that much about buildings, but he works on lessening his team’s collateral damage. He promises the supervillain that he’ll try to pressure the city government if she brings problems to him rather than taking them into her own hands. Eventually, he convinces her that she can protect the city’s infrastructure better by being on his team than she can on her own.

She’s incredibly helpful! She will keep burning buildings from collapsing until everyone can get out and the fire is extinguished. She’ll hold skyscrapers up while supervillains reign destruction down around them. She’ll deconstruct traps and grumpily direct her teammates towards the hidden mastermind who set them up. And when the crisis is over, she’ll see what can be salvaged and rebuild it if possible.

But she’s a PR nightmare.

Former Supervillain refuses to help people. She DOES NOT care. Your kid is trapped in the burning building? That is not her problem. Go bother someone else. Dude is holding a bunch of people hostage? It’s fine, he’s not causing any damage to the building he’s in.

People DO NOT like this attitude. People do not accept that she’s part of a team, and other heroes are capable of filling the “empathy” and “human rescuing” gaps.

And she’s high maintenance! The team frequently end up in situations where protecting lives is in conflict with protecting property. They take missions that mean very little to them, because they’re important to her. And the leader is constantly having to talk her out of rampages, pressuring the government to drop lucrative and unethical contracts, and making sure she’s sticking to the plan in the field. And she isn’t interested in interpersonal relationships or social niceties, so none of them are even doing this out of friendship!

-

Sometimes, you help someone not because they’ll be grateful, but because it will make your community better. Sometimes, you help the local drug addict not because he’s likely to turn his life around, but because he smashes less windows when he has a warm, quiet space to stay. And sometimes, keeping that community benefit takes a long term commitment.

I want to see a superhero team turn a villain as harm prevention and then willingly bear the cost of keeping that villain from causing harm. Not because it’s rewarding (though there are rewards) but because it’s more effective than any other method. And I want the villain to go along with it because the heroes actually found a more efficient way for her to reach her goals.

And it being messy for everyone, but I want them to make it work. And it to be worth it, in the end.

[cllightning81]

The Drivers - Part 1

Series Title : Younger Sister (TBC)

Summary: Being Lando Norris' sister made it surprising that it was one of your only visits to the paddock. Ollie made sure to introduce you to all the drivers and show you about.

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader, Lando Norris x Sister!reader , Grid x Norris!Reader

Word Count : 1.2k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Lando Norris Masterlist

It wasn’t exactly hard being Lando’s sister, especially when you hardly went to races. Silverstone just never matched up with when you could take holidays from your part time job and the break from school but now you were close to finishing high school and had left your part time job to travel with Lando -with him paying for literally everything because what else should brother’s do?- 

The last couple of days of school and you finally decided it was time for you to change your phone wallpaper back to your favourite picture of yourself and Lando. When Lando got moved into F1, you changed your phone wallpaper back to a less obvious picture of yourself and Lando, so you didn’t get people wanting to be your friend just because of Lando. 

Now you were at the first race you had been to in a long while -Silverstone- sat in the Mclaren garage just wanting to annoy Lando as a little sister should do but he was interviewing and you didn’t want to be in front of the camera. That’s when you saw Max walk past the garage alone. Max was basically a brother he’d been about since as long as you could remember. 

“Max” you called before jumping on his back 

“Missing LN, are we?” He asked, and you nodded 

“Lan left me in the garage alone” you pouted, and he chuckled 

“What are you going to do when you’re the only one with him?” He asked, starting to walk again. 

“Where are you going?” You asked him, resting your head on his shoulder 

“Going to find your brother to return his property” He joked, and you slapped his arm. Max laughed as he walked to the media pen, stopping next to Lando and dropping you onto the floor 

“Your property, I believe” Max tapped your head before walking away

“Lan I’m bored” You whine, and his PR manager laughed 

“You didn’t bring anything to keep her entertained?” His PR manager asked 

“I thought she’d find some random F2 driver’s girlfriend to talk to, but obviously not” I pouted, shoving him away 

“I don’t know if they’re just random people or girlfriends and family” You shrugged, and he nodded 

“Fair point, I guess. Come on I’ll introduce you to Ollie he’s over there” You nodded, following behind him as he walked away, gripping onto his wrist 

“Y/N no one’s gonna kidnap you” He laughed, and you gripped his wrist tighter

“But it’s so busy, and I don’t know where I’m going” You whine as he comes to a sudden stop, causing you to bump into his back. 

“Ollie” the older sibling smiled at the younger boy, who was just happily sipping on his drink

“Oh hey Lando. Y/N” He smiled, looking up 

“Hey” You smiled back at him

“You already know Ollie?” Lando questioned, and you nodded

“I’ve not been avoiding Formula racing all together or living under a rock” You shrugged

“And he knows you?” Lando looked between the two of you.

“Ollie follows me on instagram. I became quite the popular girl at school” You giggle thinking back to prom when you were being questioned on how you were now followed by not only Lando but Oliver Bearman. What Lando didn’t need to know is that you two were secretly texting and had plans to go for ice cream after his sprint race while Lando was doing whatever practice. 

“Okay well bye. I’ll see you in an hour” Lando walked away, and that’s when it became awkward 

“You’ve definitely not been to a race in a while” Ollie chuckled, taking your smaller hand in his larger hand and moving you out of the media pen.

“They’re scary. There’s always so many people here, and I never know who I’m allowed to be talking to” you pouted 

“Come on I’ll introduce you to the drivers, some of them anyway” Ollie led you back into the paddock and in between all the different motorhomes starting with Ferrari as he was meant to be in there anyway.

“We’ll start with Ferrari because at least if you get lost, you can’t miss the bright red” He grinned, leading you inside and over to a couple of people talking. Charles and Carlos. You obviously knew who the drivers were. They just didn’t know who you were. 

“Done with your interviews?” Charles asked, and Ollie nodded

“Yeah, I finished those. Now I’m showing Y/N about the place” He smiled as both the Ferrari drivers looked at you. 

“Girlfriend?” Carlos asked, and Ollie shook his head as you laughed 

“Lando’s sister. I don’t know how I ended up with her” Ollie replied, and you looked up at him slightly offended

“Lando’s sister?” Charles repeated, and you nodded 

“Lando has another sister?” Carlos asked. 

“We didn’t meet while you were teammates. I was still quite busy with school. It’s been my first race for a while. I don’t know many people here” you replied as he nodded slowly 

“You look like Lando, to be honest” Charles tilted his head 

“It’s the curls” You shrugged as Ollie took your hand again 

“Next garage” He cheered, pulling you out. You gave a polite wave to the Ferrari drivers as Ollie pulled you to the Red Bull garage. You knew Max. When you stayed with Lando during holidays or lockdown, he would stream with Max. 

“Hey Y/N” Max smiled, wrapping you in a hug

“Finally! A familiar face” You hummed hugging him back 

“What happened to me introducing you to everyone?” Ollie asked, and you smiled, turning to look at him as you pulled back from the hug 

“Max and Lando are like best friends. Lando has a thing about people called Max” You joked as Max Fewtrell walked up behind you

“What about us Max’s?” He asked, causing you to jump and let out a scream 

“Bog off Max” you replied 

“Ohh not the Tracy Beaker line” He joked, and you rolled your eyes. Both Lando and Max still had a thing about you swearing, not like you were legally an adult, so you resorted to saying ‘Bog off’

“Are you lost? Do I need to carry you back to Lando”? He asked, and you shook your head

“Ollie is showing me about and introducing me to different people” You smiled, and he nodded, ruffling your hair 

“Well P is lost, so I’m gonna go find her. Be safe” Max walked off as Checo joined 

“Ah Checo this is Lando’s youngest sister Y/N” The Dutch man introduced you, and you smiled at Checo 

“Nice to meet you” you hummed, looking at Ollie for help. Checo and Lando weren’t exactly the best of friends. 

Ollie continued to introduce you to different drivers until it was time for him to return you to Lando - that was Lando’s words - so now you were following Ollie back to the Mclaren garage. He stopped outside, and you smiled at him 

“Thank you for showing me about” You thanked him, and he nodded

“Are we still up for ice cream tomorrow?” He asked, and you nodded 

“We are. But you’re coming to me. I still don’t know where I’m going” you replied 

“Then I’ll meet you outside here?” You smiled with a nod as Lando walked out the garage 

“Home time” He cheered, and you laughed, waving bye to Ollie as Lando walked you out of the paddock as he talked to Oscar. 

Next Part

Tag List

@bearryyy

@molten-m122

@thewannabewriter

@lozzamen3

@barcelonaloverf1life

@hiireadstuff

@mxdi0

@f1kenzzz

@seasonswinter

@ellen3101

@via-ferns

@taygrls

@urfavsgf

@hwalllllllelujah

@vicurious28

@ririyulife

@taronyuhunter

@llando4norris

@sbrn0905

[carmine2023pr]

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[they-call-me-hippie]

I hate those baseless "Big Brand is covering up their bad business practices by doing a PR stunt!!" posts because 1. you're wrong and 2. you're wrong

[httpsserene]

𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥 | 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐧

summary: alex tries to bribe you into giving him a second chance. you accept the bribe—but, only because it will benefit the seals. definitely not because you want to see him again, or anything.

pairing: alex albon x seal specialist fem!black!reader

from, serene: almost had to split this final part into two! i hope y'all don't mind me hitting that max photo limit loll happy reading, loves xxx

⌕ prev | join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents | seal you later toc ↻

messages • yn -> coral • twitter dm's • alex -> yn

messages • max please unmute us gc -> alex

twitter • alex_albon • messages • yn -> coral

twitter dm's • alex -> yn

messages • • max please unmute us gc -> alex • yn -> coral

twitter

instagram • williamsracing & pacificmmc • october 12th

liked by f1, georgerussell63, seallygirlyn, and 85,734 others

williamsracing alex had a wonderful time on his private tour of the pacific marine mammal center! thanks to yn ln for showing us around and letting us meet some seals and seal pups! you can watch the tour video on our youtube through the link in our bio as well as donating to the pacific marine mammal center to help them conserve our oceans and wildlife!

pacificmmc alex_albon seallygirlyn

view comments

alex_albon: it was incredible to see the important work being done everyday to maintain our oceans firsthand! even better to be able to adopt optimus prime, my seal son <3

➥ charlesleclerc: find an original character trait albono 😡🙄 ➥ user1: f1 has become the most unserious sport in the world. ➥ user2: are you not entertained???

pacificmmc: it was a pleasure to host alex, even though he threatened to kidnap some of our pups ;)

➥ alex_albon: can you blame me? look at their faces! ➥ francolapinto: i am jealous 🥺 ➥ seallygirlyn: silly franco ☺️ only boys who break strangers phones and run away are allowed to do the fun pr events! ➥ francolapinto: 😂😂😂

user4: omg!!! yn and alex met again??!!! watching the video rn

➥ user5: IM SCREAMINGGG ➥ user6: the seal puppies little noises i just wanna take a lil bite ➥ user7: cute agression was on 💯💯💯

user8: alex making more alex noises as he had to feed the seals slimy fish 💀💀💀

➥ seallygirlyn: i almost confused his noises with the pups lol! ➥ user8: omg hiiii! you're literally living my dream! i want to work in marine conservation efforts just like you! ➥ seallygirlyn: visit our website for more on marine science and programs around the world < 3 i still feel like i'm living in a dream every day haha

seallygirlyn: alex was a very attentive guest! and he didn't even break any property :)

➥ alex_albon: please let it go already !!! ➥ alex_albon: what more do you want from meeeeee 🫠😫 ➥ seallygirlyn: my lost seal photos ➥ user9: holding a grudge 🤝🏽 seallygirlyn

messages • alex -> yn

instagram • williamsracing • october 20th • austin ⚑

liked by 43,592 others

williamsracing double points finishes for our boys this weekend! i wonder if it has anything to do with the seally good luck charm alex had on his side of the garage?

view comments

williamsracing: funniest moment this weekend was alex almost missing sprint qualifying because he was too busy talking to seallygirlyn

➥ seallygirlyn: I AM SO SORRY WILLIAMS F1 TEAM 🤧 ➥ coral: PLEASE DON'T BAN US !!! I WOULD LIKE TO ATTEND MANY MORE RACES ➥ francolapinto: yes admin do not be mean coral was very sweet 😇 ➥ coral: hwat? ➥ user10: franco needs to be castrated PLA

alex_albon: i ALMOST missed sprint qualifying—everybody’s freaking out for no reason 🥱

➥ alex_albon: also can you blame me? she was talking to me about jellyfish and i lost track of time ➥ seallygirlyn: this is the 2nd most embarrassing day of my life😖😭😭😭 ➥ user11: what's the first? ➥ seallygirlyn: when alex told the entire internet i cried when my phone broke ➥ user12: valid 😪

user13: she's a disrespectful guest and didn't respect the team's or alex's time the entire weekend. she should not be allowed to return.

➥ alex_albon: when? ➥ user13: when what? ➥ alex_albon: when did anybody ask for your opinion 🤨

messages • alex -> yn

twitter

igstory • alex_albon just uploaded!

[caption1; the only thing i cheat on is a diet plan][caption2; pretty views in santa monica]

replies limited

seallygirlyn: it was such a beautiful view! alex_albon: beautiful girl too 😏 seallygirlyn: smooth 😅

logansargeant: dude "pretty views" was the best you could come up with alex_albon: what's wrong with that???? logansargeant: i forget how old you are sometimes

twitter • postseason

instagram • seallygirlyn • january 23rd

liked by 32,973 others

seallygirlyn after review from the board (five water pups) he's awarded my seal of approval x alex_albon

comments on this post have been limited.

alex_albon: the amount of fish i had to feed them to get this distinction was frightening 😰

seallygirlyn: should've watched where you were running the first time we met < 3 alex_albon: but if i never ran into you, would we have ended up here?

instagram • alex_albon • january 23rd

liked by 1,592,368 others

alex_albon sealed it with a kiss x

view comments

seallygirlyn: love you seally boy 🥰

➥ alex_albon: love you more seally girl 🧜🏾‍♀️

georgerussell63: i always believed in you mate 💪🏼

-alex_albon: i vividly recall you bullying me everyday until i asked her out ➥ georgerussell63: how does that contradict the statement i made 🧐🧐🧐

user14: where's the two barbie dogs dancing gif when you need it? so happy for you both!!!!

user15: the other formula one drivers do not need to use this relationship announcement as a guide. please do a soft launch or you risk being responsible for my heart failing.

➥ alex_albon: does nobody remember the posts on my story like three months ago 😔 ➥ user16: TWO PHOTOS on a STORY from THREE MONTHS ago is not a soft launch YOU ASSHOLE 🤬 ➥ seallygirlyn: i did tell him that we should've had a proper sl :/

logansargeant: now when do i get to meet her 😈

➥ alex_albon: never 🫡 ➥ seallygirlyn: next time your in cali! we named a pup after you at the center :))) ➥ logansargeant: alex if you screw up this relationship i will never forgive you

maxverstappen1: i hate puns 😾

➥ landonorris: man just sealabrate this good time with us mate ➥ maxverstappen1: i'm going to flip out ➥ oscarpiastri: i hope you know that was also a pun 😂

general taglist (ask to join):

@saintslewis/@cherry2stems/@lorarri/@mindless-rock/@biancathecool

@barnestatic/@darleneslane/@lovingaphroditesworld/@smoothopz/@vetteltea

@tallrock35/@spideybv28/@loomiscorpse/@hiireadstuff/@namgification

@gg-trini/@multi-fandom-rando/@landoslutmeout/@love-simon/@iloveyou3000morgan/

@rexit-mo/@oscahpastry/@sweatrevenge5436-blog/@bokutos-babyowl/@oliviah-25

@evermoreandroyalblue/@riveristhebest1/@xylinasdiary/@ashiekins/@flowergirl1134

@hearts4robs/@c-losur3/@bloodyymaryyy/@awritingtree/@lammys-thinking

@nikfigueiredo/@bbreezyxoxo

seal you later taglist (closed):

@poppysrin @everythingabby101 @mangotaitai/@sumlovesjude/@nichmeddar

@panicforspec @formulaal @tellybearryyyy @greywritesthings @daddyslittlevillain

© httpsserene 2024 — photos used from pinterest. do not re-upload.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

UK publishers suing Google for $17.4b over rigged ad markets

THIS WEEKEND (June 7–9), I'm in AMHERST, NEW YORK to keynote the 25th Annual Media Ecology Association Convention and accept the Neil Postman Award for Career Achievement in Public Intellectual Activity.

Look, no one wants to kick Big Tech to the curb more than I do, but, also: it's good that Google indexes the news so people can find it, and it's good that Facebook provides forums where people can talk about the news.

It's not news if you can't find it. It's not news if you can't talk about it. We don't call information you can't find or discuss "news" – we call it "secrets."

And yet, the most popular – and widely deployed – anti-Big Tech tactic promulgated by the news industry and supported by many of my fellow trustbusters is premised on making Big Tech pay to index the news and/or provide a forum to discuss news articles. These "news bargaining codes" (or, less charitably, "link taxes") have been mooted or introduced in the EU, France, Spain, Australia, and Canada. There are proposals to introduce these in the US (through the JCPA) and in California (the CJPA).

These US bills are probably dead on arrival, for reasons that can be easily understood by the Canadian experience with them. After Canada introduced Bill C-18 – its own news bargaining code – Meta did exactly what it had done in many other places where this had been tried: blocked all news from Facebook, Instagram, Threads, and other Meta properties.

This has been a disaster for the news industry and a disaster for Canadians' ability to discuss the news. Oh, it makes Meta look like assholes, too, but Meta is the poster child for "too big to care" and is palpably indifferent to the PR costs of this boycott.

Frustrated lawmakers are now trying to figure out what to do next. The most common proposal is to order Meta to carry the news. Canadians should be worried about this, because the next government will almost certainly be helmed by the far-right conspiratorialist culture warrior Pierre Poilievre, who will doubtless use this power to order Facebook to platform "news sites" to give prominence to Canada's rotten bushel of crypto-fascist (and openly fascist) "news" sites.

Americans should worry about this too. A Donald Trump 2028 presidency combined with a must-carry rule for news would see Trump's cabinet appointees deciding what is (and is not) news, and ordering large social media platforms to cram the Daily Caller (or, you know, the Daily Stormer) into our eyeballs.

But there's another, more fundamental reason that must-carry is incompatible with the American system: the First Amendment. The government simply can't issue a blanket legal order to platforms requiring them to carry certain speech. They can strongly encourage it. A court can order limited compelled speech (say, a retraction following a finding of libel). Under emergency conditions, the government might be able to compel the transmission of urgent messages. But there's just no way the First Amendment can be squared with a blanket, ongoing order issued by the government to communications platforms requiring them to reproduce, and make available, everything published by some collection of their favorite news outlets.

This might also be illegal in Canada, but it's harder to be definitive. The Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms was enshrined in 1982, and Canada's Supreme Court is still figuring out what it means. Section Two of the Charter enshrines a free expression right, but it's worded in less absolute terms than the First Amendment, and that's deliberate. During the debate over the wording of the Charter, Canadian scholars and policymakers specifically invoked problems with First Amendment absolutism and tried to chart a middle course between strong protections for free expression and problems with the First Amendment's brook-no-exceptions language.

So maybe Canada's Supreme Court would find a must-carry order to Meta to be a violation of the Charter, but it's hard to say for sure. The Charter is both young and ambiguous, so it's harder to be definitive about what it would say about this hypothetical. But when it comes to the US and the First Amendment, that's categorically untrue. The US Constitution is centuries older than the Canadian Charter, and the First Amendment is extremely definitive, and there are reams of precedent interpreting it. The JPCA and CJPA are totally incompatible with the US Constitution. Passing them isn't as silly as passing a law declaring that Pi equals three or that water isn't wet, but it's in the neighborhood.

But all that isn't to say that the news industry shouldn't be attacking Big Tech. Far from it. Big Tech compulsively steals from the news!

But what Big Tech steals from the news isn't content.

It's money.

Big Tech steals money from the news. Take social media: when a news outlet invests in building a subscriber base on a social media platform, they're giving that platform a stick to beat them with. The more subscribers you have on social media, the more you'll be willing to pay to reach those subscribers, and the more incentive there is for the platform to suppress the reach of your articles unless you pay to "boost" your content.

This is plainly fraudulent. When I sign up to follow a news outlet on a social media site, I'm telling the platform to show me the things the news outlet publishes. When the platform uses that subscription as the basis for a blackmail plot, holding my desire to read the news to ransom, they are breaking their implied promise to me to show me the things I asked to see:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-need-end-end-web

This is stealing money from the news. It's the definition of an "unfair method of competition." Article 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act gives the FTC the power to step in and ban this practice, and they should:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/10/the-courage-to-govern/#whos-in-charge

Big Tech also steals money from the news via the App Tax: the 30% rake that the mobile OS duopoly (Apple/Google) requires for every in-app purchase (Apple/Google also have policies that punish app vendors who take you to the web to make payments without paying the App Tax). 30% out of every subscriber dollar sent via an app is highway robbery! By contrast, the hyperconcentrated, price-gouging payment processing cartel charges 2-5% – about a tenth of the Big Tech tax. This is Big Tech stealing money from the news:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/06/save-news-we-must-open-app-stores

Finally, Big Tech steals money by monopolizing the ad market. The Google-Meta ad duopoly takes 51% out of every ad-dollar spent. The historic share going to advertising "intermediaries" is 10-15%. In other words, Google/Meta cornered the market on ads and then tripled the bite they were taking out of publishers' advertising revenue. They even have an illegal, collusive arrangement to rig this market, codenamed "Jedi Blue":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jedi_Blue

There's two ways to unrig the ad market, and we should do both of them.

First, we should trustbust both Google and Meta and force them to sell off parts of their advertising businesses. Currently, both Google and Meta operate a "full stack" of ad services. They have an arm that represents advertisers buying space for ads. Another arm represents publishers selling space to advertisers. A third arm operates the marketplace where these sales take place. All three arms collect fees. On top of that: Google/Meta are both publishers and advertisers, competing with their own customers!

This is as if you were in court for a divorce and you discovered that the same lawyer representing your soon-to-be ex was also representing you…while serving as the judge…and trying to match with you both on Tinder. It shouldn't surprise you if at the end of that divorce, the court ruled that the family home should go to the lawyer.

So yeah, we should break up ad-tech:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-shatter-ad-tech

Also: we should ban surveillance advertising. Surveillance advertising gives ad-tech companies a permanent advantage over publishers. Ad-tech will always know more about readers' behavior than publishers do, because Big Tech engages in continuous, highly invasive surveillance of every internet user in the world. Surveillance ads perform a little better than "content-based ads" (ads sold based on the content of a web-page, not the behavior of the person looking at the page), but publishers will always know more about their content than ad-tech does. That means that even if content-based ads command a slightly lower price than surveillance ads, a much larger share of that payment will go to publishers:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/05/save-news-we-must-ban-surveillance-advertising

Banning surveillance advertising isn't just good business, it's good politics. The potential coalition for banning surveillance ads is everyone who is harmed by commercial surveillance. That's a coalition that's orders of magnitude larger than the pool of people who merely care about fairness in the ad/news industries. It's everyone who's worried about their grandparents being brainwashed on Facebook, or their teens becoming anorexic because of Instagram. It includes people angry about deepfake porn, and people angry about Black Lives Matter protesters' identities being handed to the cops by Google (see also: Jan 6 insurrectionists).

It also includes everyone who discovers that they're paying higher prices because a vendor is using surveillance data to determine how much they'll pay – like when McDonald's raises the price of your "meal deal" on your payday, based on the assumption that you will spend more when your bank account is at its highest monthly level:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/05/your-price-named/#privacy-first-again

Attacking Big Tech for stealing money is much smarter than pretending that the problem is Big Tech stealing content. We want Big Tech to make the news easy to find and discuss. We just want them to stop pocketing 30 cents out of every subscriber dollar and 51 cents out of ever ad dollar, and ransoming subscribers' social media subscriptions to extort publishers.

And there's amazing news on this front: a consortium of UK web-publishers called Ad Tech Collective Action has just triumphed in a high-stakes proceeding, and can now go ahead with a suit against Google, seeking damages of GBP13.6b ($17.4b) for the rigged ad-tech market:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/17-bln-uk-adtech-lawsuit-against-google-can-go-ahead-tribunal-rules-2024-06-05/

The ruling, from the Competition Appeal Tribunal, paves the way for a frontal assault on the thing Big Tech actually steals from publishers: money, not content.

This is exactly what publishing should be doing. Targeting the method by which tech steals from the news is a benefit to all kinds of news organizations, including the independent, journalist-owned publishers that are doing the best news work today. These independents do not have the same interests as corporate news, which is dominated by hedge funds and private equity raiders, who have spent decades buying up and hollowing out news outlets, and blaming the resulting decline in readership and profits on Craiglist.

You can read more about Big Finance's raid on the news in Margot Susca's Hedged: How Private Investment Funds Helped Destroy American Newspapers and Undermine Democracy:

https://www.press.uillinois.edu/books/?id=p087561

You can also watch/listen to Adam Conover's excellent interview with Susca:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N21YfWy0-bA

Frankly, the looters and billionaires who bought and gutted our great papers are no more interested in the health of the news industry or democracy than Big Tech is. We should care about the news and the workers who produce the news, not the profits of the hedge-funds that own the news. An assault on Big Tech's monetary theft levels the playing field, making it easier for news workers and indies to compete directly with financialized news outlets and billionaire playthings, by letting indies keep more of every ad-dollar and more of every subscriber-dollar – and to reach their subscribers without paying ransom to social media.

Ending monetary theft – rather than licensing news search and discussion – is something that workers are far more interested in than their bosses. Any time you see workers and their bosses on the same side as a fight against Big Tech, you should look more closely. Bosses are not on their workers' side. If bosses get more money out of Big Tech, they will not share those gains with workers unless someone forces them to.

That's where antitrust comes in. Antitrust is designed to strike at power, and enforcers have broad authority to blunt the power of corporate juggernauts. Remember Article 5 of the FTC Act, the one that lets the FTC block "unfair methods of competition?" FTC Chair Lina Khan has proposed using it to regulate training AI, specifically to craft rules that address the labor and privacy issues with AI:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mh8Z5pcJpg

This is an approach that can put creative workers where they belong, in a coalition with other workers, rather than with their bosses. The copyright approach to curbing AI training is beloved of the same media companies that are eagerly screwing their workers. If we manage to make copyright – a transferrable right that a worker can be forced to turn over their employer – into the system that regulates AI training, it won't stop training. It'll just trigger every entertainment company changing their boilerplate contract so that creative workers have to sign over their AI rights or be shown the door:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

Then those same entertainment and news companies will train AI models and try to fire most of their workers and slash the pay of the remainder using those models' output. Using copyright to regulate AI training makes changes to who gets to benefit from workers' misery, shifting some of our stolen wages from AI companies to entertainment companies. But it won't stop them from ruining our lives.

By contrast, focusing on actual labor rights – say, through an FTCA 5 rulemaking – has the potential to protect those rights from all parties, and puts us on the same side as call-center workers, train drivers, radiologists and anyone else whose wages are being targeted by AI companies and their customers.

Policy fights are a recurring monkey's paw nightmare in which we try to do something to fight corruption and bullying, only to be outmaneuvered by corrupt bullies. Making good policy is no guarantee of a good outcome, but it sure helps – and good policy starts with targeting the thing you want to fix. If we're worried that news is being financially starved by Big Tech, then we should go after the money, not the links.

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/2024/06/06/stealing-money-not-content/#content-free

[rowdyluv]

Lies, Lies, Lies jh86

summary: in which Jack returns home after practice feeling better about the situation they had been put in, but it’s when explaining everything to Y/n she lets a big secret she’d held on to out of the bag.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: flashback insert, fluff -> angst -> needing, sad jack(?), use of y/n, profanity, nicknames, a lot of dialogue

notes: self protection (I made myself cry a little) the flashback is indented and italicized, pardon the wait, life has been a bit crazy recently. *see second note after fic*

© property of rowdyluv ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Jack pushed open the apartment door, the cool evening breeze whispering a gentle greeting as it trailed in behind him. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting a warm halo around the soft figure curled up on the couch. "Y/n," he murmured, his voice barely disturbing the quiet, "you fell asleep on the couch again." Jack picked up the book that had fallen into the floor and sat it on the table.

Her hair spilled over the couch's arm, and her chest rose and fell with each peaceful breath. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, so peacefully lost to the world in her slumber. For a moment, Jack debated whether to let her sleep, but the looming shadow of the reality of how close the gala was weighed on him. The charity gala was a big night in itself, and now it’s even bigger for them.

He sat on the edge of the couch cushion next to her, his movements as delicate as a kitten. He didn't want to startle her. Gently, he touched her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake. He watched her intently, his heart skipping a beat as he contemplated the words he needed to say, how to tell her the convoluted plan that was constructed.

He leaned over slightly, reached up towards her face and barely ran the back of his fingers across her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing a pair of sleepy pools that searched for understanding in the dimly lit room. She blinked a few times before finally focusing on him.

"Jack," she whispered, her voice groggy with sleep. "What time is it?"

“Hi there, sleepy girl. It’s a little after 6.” Jack chuckled as she jolted up in a seated position.

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise and she pushed the mess of her hair back out of her face, and took a few moments before looking back at him trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep. She met his gaze with confusion as his own gaze held nervousness? Worry?

Jack felt his heart race as he gathered the words that had been playing on his mind all day. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. "Y/n, I need to tell you something important."

The seriousness etched in his expression had her readjusting and she sat up fully, pushing aside the very old maple leafs blanket she hadn't realized she'd been using. It's a blanket from Jack’s childhood that typically stays hidden from everyone, but it’s one of her favorites in the apartment for when he’s gone. It permanently smells like him, no matter how many times you wash it. Or maybe it’s just her brain making her think it does, either way it’s now also her comfort item, not just his.

"Okay," she said, her voice soft and a little hint of a nervous tone. "What's going on?"

Jack leaned closer, talking softer as if someone else could hear him, his eyes never leaving hers. "You know the charity gala coming up? The one I've been telling you about?" He paused, watching for her nod before continuing. "I've worked with the PR team to settle everything." Jack kept his eyes on her’s,

“And this is one of the events I have to go to?” She asks hesitantly.

Jack nods solemnly before going into explaining the details of what was made up for them.

"Yeah," Y/n said, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I don't have anything to wear for something like that. I've never really... you know, done the fancy thing." She felt self-conscious suddenly, her eyes dropping to her worn out canucks t-shirt and leggings.

“Of course you have?” Jack asks incredulously. “You’ll go look at some dresses like you did for prom. Find one you like and I’ll pay for it. Just maybe don’t get prom fancy, you don’t need poofy princess. Something nice to go with a suit.” Jack smiled.

Y/n’s face fell. “Guess I walked myself into telling you now.” She murmured. “Jack, I didn't go to our prom. Truthfully, I didn’t do much of anything after you left in November.”

“Then why did Lu..” He started to ask but she cut him off.

“I threatened Luke with his life to not tell you the truth. I told him to stick to the story I had come up with.” Y/n ashamedly admitted.

Jack’s signature golden boy smile disappeared, and his eyes searched hers, then he searched her face, desperately looking for a sign that she was joking with him. He swallowed hard, feeling like a knife had been thrust into his chest.

"What do you mean you didn't go to prom? You were so excited every time we talked about it?" Jack shifted to sit on the coffee table across from her.

“It’s no big deal now. It can’t be changed, let’s not worry about it. What we should worry about is that I’m not really sure what to shop for?” It came out more like a question than anything.

Jack felt a twinge of anger, his mind racing with questions and accusations. He had missed so much of her life in those few months. He felt like he had failed her, like he wasn’t there when she needed him. She had told him time and time again that she had the perfect dress, the guy she had been crushing on asked her to prom, and that she was super excited about it all.

When did things change?

When did Luke decide that he could lie to him?

He took a deep breath, trying to push down the emotions that threatened to spill over. "Okay," he said through gritted teeth, “I’ll be back in a little bit. I just need to process this. Lukey keeping something from me, you? You lying to me…”

“What, Jack?” Worry filled her voice. Jack paused mid-step and turned to look at her. “I can explain. Ple-“

“I’m sure you had a valid reason for it. We can talk later.” Jack slipped his shoes on and walked out the door. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to leave to clear his head for something in the past or why he didn’t just hear her out now, but he did know that he needed one person and that one person was states over.

Sitting in his car he took his phone out of pocket and absentmindedly dialed his mom’s number, it connected within seconds.

“Hi honey, how are you?” Ellen’s sweet soft voice sounded like a hug that he needed so desperately.

“Momma.” He gasped as if he had been holding his breath. “Can we talk? I don’t know what to say to Y/n without making the situation bigger..” Jack pleaded and Ellen sighed softly with a ‘mhmm’ of acknowledgment.

“I must say, it’s nice that you’re calling about something other than hockey troubles. But I wondered how long before you two would have your first argument.” Jack grimaced. Hating that he was upset with his best friend for lying to him when they’re lying to everyone else. “Okay, Jack let’s talk.”

“Mom, did you know she didn’t go to prom? Did you lie to me too? Or was it just her and Luke? Or oh my god… does everyone know but me?” He felt like a little preteen having a melt down over getting their phone taken away, but if she only knew. If anyone else outside of his parents knew what he went through accepting her apparent lie it wouldn’t seem that big of a deal.

There was a long silence except for some shuffling and a door closing on the opposite end before Ellen answered.”Yes.” An evident hard swallow from the mother came through the phone speaker. It was obvious she didn’t want to tell her middle son.

“I know this doesn’t make it better, but I didn’t know until it was too late to get you home. Your father and I decided it was best not to tell you what really happened because it wasn’t going to change anything.” Her voice was soft, an attempt to soothe the hurt she knew he was going to feel.

“It’s one thing if I couldn’t get home, but did you not think of how I would feel if I found out all the people I’ve always trusted kept something from me?” His heart pounding in his chest, a knot in his throat hurting so bad from holding back his cries.

“Momma you know..” Hiccup. “You know she’s it for me, always has been, if I could have done something to stop her from hurting, or, or-“ He was hiccuping trying to hold off crying now and Ellen cut him off.

“That’s just it honey, you couldn’t have done anything. Take a minute to think, how hard was it for you the days after you left home from visiting last year?”

“Pretty hard..”

“Exactly. But you had a job to do, a distraction from the turmoil. Y/n didn’t. She had school and nothing else. There were times she came over and we let her sleep in your bed. Yet instead of sleeping we just heard her cry. The next morning we would always find Luke asleep on the floor. He’d come crying to your father and I about what he needed to do, to be more like you so he could make her happy again. That is why Luke kept quiet. He wanted to be sure to help her, not make it worse. Honey, I’m not telling you this to hurt you worse than you are already. But if you’re truly wanting to know you have to start somewhere. This is the lift of the bandaid. It’s your job to rip it off.”

He sniffled. He hadn’t realized it but a few tears had fallen when his mom was recalling the events.

“Thanks mom. While I have you..could I ask you for a favor? Please.”

“Anything you need.”

“Can you come out to Jersey? If she’s never had the whole shopping for a dress experience and getting ready for something like the gala event, she’s going to want help. And I can’t do that? I don’t know how to do most of that.” He laughs awkwardly. “I know her mom won’t be able to and you would mean just as much.”

Ellen’s heart was so full at Jack’s request. He was feeling torn and broken from all of this evening, yet he still was putting her needs first. “Of course, I can arrange to come down on Friday and stay until Tuesday. Now, you need to go talk with Y/n before she starts calling me too.” Jack hears his dad laugh in the background and he shakes his head knowing it will happen.

They share their goodbyes but he can’t make himself get out of his car just yet. A million thoughts about what his mom told him, about what he doesn’t know vs the version he was told running through his head.

“So,” Jack says, dragging out the ‘O’ after having watched Y/n work on her homework over FaceTime. “Prom is coming up, eh?”

“Yup.” She answers by popping the ‘P’ not bothering to look up.

“What if I come home for a few days, I talked to management and they said I could go for it? We could go together, just like we had planned.” Excitement laced in Jack’s voice.

“Uhh, no need to waste money on a plane ticket. I have a date.” She finally looked up and met Jack’s gaze through the phone. “I’m going with Alex.” She smiled. “He asked me the other day after school. So really, no need Jackey.”

That’s when it hit him. He jumped out of his car and ran back inside to find her.

“I’m sorry!” He blurted out when he found her in the same place he left her. “I.. I should’ve known then you weren’t telling me the truth.” Jack pulled at his hair, before walking up to her taking the spot on the coffee table again.

“Fuck. Toots I’m so sorry. I’ve only ever been Jackey when you really really needed me and I missed it back then.” Jack’s voice was much softer. “If I had just really listened to you that night instead of thinking about how upset I was.”

He reached up with both hands wiping the tears from her cheeks, then pulling her down to cradle her head in the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry toots. But please never keep something like your half from me either.” Jack pleaded. He received a soft squeeze in return and he was content with it.

She didn’t know how much he loved holding her or how right it felt for him to hold her in his arms, so he was not going to do anything that caused this moment to end. He could stay this way the rest of the evening.

authors note: hello! thank you for reading this after reading the fic. i had an ask sent in the other day that requested this series be turned into an AU. if this something others are interested in please let me know! thank you🩵

[predictablesloth]

Has everyone in West/Eastview forgotten that four people just went completely missing?

Lilia, Alice, and Sharon literally owned property, like, their sudden absence would definitely be missed by someone.

And the Westview residents have seen some shit, sure, but they're not just gonna ignore that four people---two of whom lived on their road---went into Agatha's house and didn't return... but you know who did?

Some kid in full superhero gear, Wanda-style crown and everything.

And upon a quick investigation, they'll very quickly find a giant stone plaque in memory of those missing people in the basement. Not to mention a fucking grave in the backyard.

All 20 or whatever of those neighbors are NOT gonna keep their mouths shut.

Billy doesn't exactly have an Avengers pr team to help clean it up, either. Bro's gonna be on the most wanted list in his next project.

[kairawrites]

love & basketball.

🌺masterlist���

pairing: aurélien tchouaméni x reader

summary: It's 95 degrees in LA, but your boyfriend's never really needed a reason to take his shirt off.

You stood at the three-point line, body still heavy with sleep. The warmth of the late afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the court.

After the day at the beach with friends, everyone dispersed for showers before settling into their rooms to relax, nap, or watch movies.

The sight of you in your bikini drove Aurélien crazy all morning. He’d found every excuse to touch you—rubbing sunscreen into your skin, his hands lingering a little too long on your waist, your shoulders.

By the time you all finally made it back to the rental, he was at his limit. The moment your feet touched the surface of the top floor, he'd lifted you off the ground, carrying you straight to the bed.

Now, you wore his shirt, the one he’d abandoned on the floor just a few hours prior, tugging it off in a frenzy as his hands and mouth had been more preoccupied with untying your bikini.

The shirt hung loosely on you, the fabric brushing against your thighs as Aurélien approached, a basketball in hand. You’d woken to find him already up, the sun lower in the sky, casting a golden hue across the court. The remnants of the day lingered on your skin—the warmth of the sun, the salt of the ocean, and the feel of his touch still fresh in your memory.

Aurélien had been on the court, the one piece of the property that finalized his decision. He'd used it nearly every day during your two week stay.

"Alright, let’s see what you’ve got," he teased, his hands pressing the basketball into your arms.

You groaned softly, still not fully awake. "I’m not sure I’ve got anything right now," you muttered, shifting the ball between your hands. "How are you not tired?"

He chuckled, stepping closer until his chest was flush against your back. His hands slid over your arms, guiding them into position. "This your way of saying I wore you out---"

Aurélien's laughter rang free, echoing across the yard as you threw a playful jab back to his ribs. It was a sound that brought a smile to your lips.

"I think it was the sun that did that," you giggle, relaxing against him as he pressed a kiss against your neck.

"...yeah, okay..." His voice comes out muffled against your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist. Giving you a gentle squeeze, he leaves a final kiss against your skin.

"Okay, what's this grand advice I'm supposed to be getting?" You sigh, still trying to figure out how you've ended up here.

You had no intention of playing basketball when you'd gone searching for your boyfriend. Yet somehow, here you are.

"First, you need to relax," he said, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Don’t think too much about it—just feel it."

You couldn’t help but smile at his serious tone, feeling the heat of his body behind you. "Feel it, huh?" you teased lightly pressing your body back into his. The moment you did, you capitalized on the opportunity, your hips grinding back.

Aurélien's breath hitched, his fingers pressing into the dips of your hips.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be?" He murmured, voice a mixture of amusement and surprise.

"I'm a hands on learner," you giggled, the teasing of your boyfriend has always proved to be your favorite task.

"Don't start something you can't finish," Aurélien grinned, his hands moving to adjust your stance, gently nudging your feet into the correct position. "First, your feet—shoulder-width apart. Good. Now bend your knees a little. It’s all about balance." His hands lingered on your waist, guiding your hips into alignment with the basket.

You followed his instructions, but your mind was more on the way his fingers traced small circles on your hips than on the basketball in your hands. "Like this?" you asked, trying to focus.

"Perfect," he whispered, his voice dropping a notch as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck. The only problem with teasing your boyfriend, he's just as good. The soft kiss he leaves against your skin temporarily pulls your eyes from the hoop. You catch sight of his playful brown eyes before he's nodding forward. "Now, keep your eyes on the hoop. Imagine the ball going in. It’s all about the follow-through."

He brought his hands up to your arms again, guiding your elbows into the right angle, his chest pressing against your back, offering steady support. "When you release, let your wrist snap forward, like this." His hand covered yours, demonstrating the motion.

You nodded, trying to concentrate, but the closeness of his body and the warmth of his breath on your skin made it nearly impossible. You took a deep breath, finally locking your gaze on the hoop.

“Go ahead,” he urged, his voice soft and encouraging. “Just let it fly.”

You exhaled slowly, then pushed off your back foot, releasing the ball in a smooth arc. It bounced off the rim, missing the shot. You groaned in frustration, your shoulders slumping.

Aurélien chuckled, jogging after the ball. "Not bad for a first try. Just a little more follow-through, and you’ll have it."

He stopped alongside you, eyes briefly meeting yours before smiling.

Aurélien dribbled the ball a few times, the rhythmic sound echoing through the quiet court. His movements were fluid, each bounce perfectly controlled, his focus sharp. With a quick, confident glance at the hoop, he planted his feet.

With an easy flick of his wrist, he sent the ball arcing through the air. The shot seemed effortless, almost casual, but there was an unmistakable precision in the way he released it. The ball soared, spinning in a perfect backspin, before dropping cleanly through the net with a satisfying *swish*.

Aurélien landed lightly on his feet, a small, self-assured smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned to look at you, the pride in his eyes evident.

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through despite your attempt to feign annoyance. "Show-off," you teased, though you couldn’t help but be impressed by how effortless he made it look.

Aurélien retrieved the ball with the same easy grace, dribbling it back toward you. "I couldn't resist," he replied, his tone light and teasing, but there was a glint in his eyes that showed he was enjoying every moment of impressing you.

"Always showing out for a pretty girl?" you asked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

He stopped just in front of you, holding the ball casually at his side. "Only for you." The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. "Well, I’m not that easy to impress, you know," you teased, though your smile gave away the truth.

Aurélien leaned in closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Guess I'll just have to keep trying then," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, before stepping back.

His eyes passed over the shirt you wore.

It was one of his favorites, but not because of its design or any sentimental attachment to where he bought it. It was simple—black with faded lettering and a worn texture from too many washes. The Kobe Bryant photo emblazoned across the front was cracked, showing signs of its age. On him, it fit snugly across his chest and shoulders, a staple of his casual wardrobe, something he threw on without much thought. But on you, it was different.

The shirt had become his favorite for one reason alone: the way it looked on you.

He loved how the sleeves slipped past your elbows, the neckline dipping just enough to tease a glimpse of your collarbone. It hung loose, brushing your thighs, leaving just enough to the imagination. The first time he saw you wearing it, fresh out of the shower, he’d almost forgotten what he was doing. You weren’t trying to impress him—just looking for something comfortable—but seeing you in his clothes had done something to him.

Then there were the lazy mornings after long nights, when you’d pad barefoot around the kitchen in nothing but that shirt, making coffee while he watched, pretending to care about the cup in his hand when really all his focus was on you. Or the times you’d steal it after a day at the beach, the sun warming your skin as the fabric stuck to your damp body. Every time, it was a reminder that something of his had become yours, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was as if it had been made for moments like this, when it was just the two of you, laughing, playing, and challenging each other.

“So that’s where my shirt went.” His voice was light, but there was a hint of playful accusation in it.

You glanced down at yourself and smiled, tugging at the oversized fabric. “I woke up to find you gone. Figured I’d claim it since you weren’t around to stop me.”

Aurélien took a step closer, his gaze dropping to the shirt that swallowed your frame. “I don’t know… looks better on me, don’t you think?” he teased, reaching out to playfully tug at the hem.

You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know, looks like it fits me just fine. But if you’re that pressed about getting it back, we could always settle it here.”

His grin widened, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Alright,” he replied, his tone a challenge. “Let’s see who deserves to keep it.”

At first, you thought he was joking. After all, it was just a shirt, right? But then Aurélien’s serious expression told you otherwise. He wasn’t backing down. He wanted to play for it.

"Wait, you’re actually serious?" you asked, raising a brow.

Aurélien crossed his arms, the challenge clear in his posture. "I don’t play around when it comes to my favorite shirt. One-on-one. Winner keeps it."

You blinked, a mix of surprise and excitement bubbling up in you. “What are the rules?"

Aurélien stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with that playful intensity he always had when he was about to make things competitive. He folded his arms across his chest, the smirk on his face widening as he considered how to outline the rules for this little challenge.

“Alright,” he began, taking the ball from you with a smooth flick of his wrist. “We’re keeping it simple. We’ll play Horse—take turns shooting. You miss, you get a letter. First one to spell ‘Horse’ loses.” He paused, letting the words hang for a moment as he casually dribbled the ball, the rhythmic bounce filling the air between you.

“Except,” he continued, stepping closer, “we’ll add a little twist.” His voice dropped, low and teasing. “Every time you get a letter…you lose a piece of clothing.” His grin turned wicked, and his eyes gleamed with anticipation as if daring you to react.

You raised an eyebrow, folding your arms in response. “And what about you? You lose clothing, too, right?”

“Of course,” he nodded seriously, though the sparkle in his eyes said he was fully enjoying himself. “I’m nothing if not fair.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as I can be,” he replied with a wink, tapping the ball against your hip. “So, what do you say? Think you can handle it?”

“I’m game. But don’t think I’m letting you win your shirt back that easily.”

Aurélien stepped closer, holding out his hand with his pinky extended, his eyes locked onto yours with a familiar look of seriousness mixed with playfulness. It was your tradition—one that had started almost as a joke but became a ritual whenever something important was on the line.

You smiled softly, already feeling the warmth of the moment as you curled your pinky around his, the soft press of his skin against yours a silent promise.

“No backing out now,” you teased, your voice light but full of trust.

Aurélien’s lips curved into a grin, his eyes softening. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied.

Then, as always, he sealed the pinky promise with a kiss. His lips gently brushed the spot where your fingers linked, lingering just long enough to send a familiar flutter through your chest. It was tender, intimate in a way that went beyond the playful challenge you had set. It was your thing, a small act of affection that held more weight than any words.

He looked back up at you, his smile deepening. “Now it’s official,” he murmured.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, feeling that warmth spread through you. “Now it’s official.”

"First shot," Aurélien grinned, dribbling the ball with confidence just outside the three-point line. "Let's see how long you can keep that shirt on."

With a smooth motion, he released the ball, the arc perfect as it sailed toward the hoop. You could already tell it was going in, and sure enough, it swished cleanly through the net.

He let out a low whistle, clearly satisfied with himself as he jogged to retrieve the ball. Stopping just a few steps from you, he left a playful distance between you, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

Bouncing the ball to you, Aurélien tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Square up, baby girl."

"First shot and you’re already losing," Aurélien teased, bouncing the ball a few times as he stood at the three-point line. "Might as well surrender that shirt now because I’m just getting started."

You rolled your eyes, accepting the ball from him with a smirk. "Don't get ahead of yourself," you muttered, lining up your shot. Taking a deep breath, you focused and released the ball. But it clanged off the rim, missing the hoop entirely.

The sound of your miss was met with a look of pure triumph on Aurélien's face. His grin stretched wider, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he jogged over to retrieve the ball.

Hands on your hips, you watched him with a knowing look, already bracing yourself for the inevitable teasing. He stopped in front of you, grinning from ear to ear.

"That’s an H," he declared with a triumphant laugh. "You know the rules—I’m gonna need a piece of clothing."

His gaze lingered on the shirt you were wearing, clearly hoping to get it back. But instead of giving in, you bent down, slipping off your sneakers before tugging off your right sock. Holding it up with a smug smile, you raised an eyebrow.

Aurélien’s eyes widened in mock surprise before he let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "A sock? Really? You’re going with that?"

"It counts," you replied with a shrug, still grinning.

He chuckled, eyeing the single sock dangling from your hand. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you get away with it... for now." His playful tone lingered as he dribbled the ball once more. "Next shot?"

Deciding to play it smart, you took a few steps closer to the hoop, lining up your shot from the free throw line instead. With a smooth flick of your wrist, the ball sailed through the air and swished into the net without even touching the rim. You let out a small cheer, throwing your arms up in victory.

Aurélien arched a brow, clearly amused by your choice to move closer, but smiled as he grabbed the ball. "Taking the easy way out, huh?" he teased, walking over to the same spot. "Alright, let’s see if I can match that."

But just as he lined up his shot, you decided to up the ante. With a mischievous grin, you moved closer, playfully pressing up against him with your arms raised in a mock attempt to block him. The suddenness of it threw him off balance, and with you giggling right against him, his concentration wavered. He released the ball, but it wobbled, hit the rim, and bounc3d right out.

You burst into laughter, your hands lightly pressing against his chest. "That’s an H, baby!" you teased, fingers playfully tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Aurélien shook his head, biting back a grin. "I didn’t realize we were getting this kind of competitive," he said, his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

You shrugged, flashing him a playful wink. "No excuses, Auré," you replied, still giggling. "Apparently my boyfriend’s good at every sport on the planet. I gotta level the playing field somehow!"

He smiled down at you, shaking his head.

Without hesitation, he tugged his shirt over his head in one smooth, practiced motion, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and arms. The fabric dropped to the ground with a dramatic flourish, as if he were performing for an audience of one—just you.

"Of course, you’d take off the shirt first," you giggled, but your voice faltered as your gaze lingered on him. The way the sun bathed his skin in a golden light, highlighting the sharp contours of his chest and the hard lines of his arms, made it almost impossible to look away. His skin glistened slightly under the warm sun, every flex and movement drawing your attention like a magnet.

You couldn't deny it—Aurélien was a sight to behold. The playful remark you'd been ready to toss at him faded from your lips as you became momentarily lost in the view, appreciating just how every inch of him seemed to come alive under the sun’s caress.

His smile only widened, a knowing smirk creeping across his face as he caught you staring. The corners of his eyes crinkled in that familiar, boyish way that always made your heart skip.

"You gonna be able to stay focused?" he teased. The challenge was clear in his tone, and the way his eyes held yours said he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

Before you could respond, he dribbled the ball to the three-point line, still grinning like he had the game already won. He lined up his shot with smooth, practiced ease, his movements deliberate and confident. The ball sailed through the air, and with a perfect swish, it dropped cleanly through the hoop.

Aurélien turned to you, his grin only growing wider. "I hope you’re ready to keep up," he said, a playful glint still in his eyes.

"You picking threes is totally unfair," you said, hands on your hips as you watched him retrieve the ball.

Aurélien smirked, tossing the ball casually from hand to hand. "It’s not in the rules," he shrugged, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

"Add it, then," you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head, grinning wider. "Too late for that. You should’ve thought of it sooner."

You couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to him. "Think I can change your mind?"

Aurélien’s brow arched with interest, his smirk never faltering. "I think a kiss might be good motivation."

With a giggle, you leaned in and kissed him quickly, just a light brush of your lips against his before pulling back. His grin faltered for a split second, then he pouted, shaking his head. "That doesn’t count."

"Should've specified the type of kiss," you tease.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but your focus returned to the game as you took a deep breath, lined up your shot from the same spot, and let the ball fly. This time, it sailed well over the rim and landed with a dull thud.

You sighed, knowing what was coming next. With a dramatic flair, you bent down, tugging off your second sock and holding it up in mock surrender.

Aurélien watched, clearly amused. "Cute, but I think you’re going to need to step up your game," he teased, still bouncing the ball with ease.

Mentally noting that you now had an H and an O, you decided to go for a layup. Moving closer to the hoop, you prepared to make your shot, but Aurelien positioned himself to guard you just as you had guarded him. He stuck to you like glue, becoming your personal shadow.

As you approached the basket, his hand settled on your hip, his touch warm and distracting. His close presence caused a moment of hesitation, and your shot missed its mark, bouncing off the backboard and rolling away.

You sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, you rolled your eyes. With a small shake of your head, you tugged your shorts down, stepping out of them with as much grace as you could muster.

"Looks like things are getting interesting." He chuckled, jogging to retrieve the ball "You could still back out what is that? An R?."

You watched Aurélien with a smirk as he dribbled, effortlessly moving the ball between his legs and around his back, his grin widening with each trick. "You’re getting too cocky," you teased, shaking your head at his showmanship.

"Too cocky?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow in challenge as he spun the ball on his finger. "Or just confident?"

"Let’s see how confident you are when I take the ball," you shot back, stepping closer with a determined glint in your eyes.

As Aurélien continued dribbling, you positioned yourself in front of him, fully intent on making it difficult for him to get past. Your arms stretched out, feet firmly planted, you mirrored his every move with laser focus.

He tried to fake you out with a quick move to the left, but you were right there, blocking his path. He shifted to the right, but you followed him step for step, your defense unwavering.

"You’re really not going to make this easy for me, are you?" he asked, his voice filled with playful frustration, even as his grin grew wider.

"Not a chance," you replied.

You positioned yourself to guard Aurélien, your hand pressing lightly against him as he dribbled. His movements were too easy to match. The realization that he was taking it easy on you made you giggle, but your laughter and smile seemed to fuel his playful energy. With a smirk, Aurélien pulled back, his movements throwing you off balance. Stepping around you, he went in for the layup. The ball rolled around the rim before bouncing to the ground.

Before he could react, you snatched the ball and burst into laughter at the surprised and amused expression on his face.

Aurélien scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Well, I guess I had that coming," he admitted, still chuckling as he straightened up.

"Yeah, you kinda did."

You stopped just in front of him, the ball resting on your hip as you grinned up at Aurélien, his expression a mix of amusement and resignation. He shook his head, hands finding their place on his hips.

Smiling, you let your hand find its way to his skin, your fingers gently tracing the defined lines of his abs. You felt the subtle catch in his breath as your touch lingered lower, his reaction unmistakable. Your eyes locked with his, a playful glint in them as you teased. "Looks like it's your turn to strip. Want me to help decide what goes next?"

Aurélien’s gaze darkened slightly with the challenge, a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you want," he chuckled. His hand covered yours, guiding it to the waistband of his shorts. With one last look into your eyes, he pushed them down, the fabric pooling around his ankles.

As he stepped out of them, his smile widened at the clear lingering of your gaze. "Satisfied?" he asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, stepping back just a little to take in the sight of him. "For now," you replied, grinning as you tossed the ball to him.

Aurélien’s eyes met yours, and you knew exactly what he was planning before he even took a step. Standing there in nothing but his socks and briefs, he was still determined to put up a fight. You couldn't help but smile as you called out his name, a playful warning in your tone.

He shrugged casually, flashing you that mischievous grin that always made your heart skip. "All’s fair in love and basketball," he said, walking back to the three-point line. Without hesitation, he lined up his shot and let the ball fly.

You turned just in time to watch it sink perfectly through the hoop, barely making a sound. Typical.

When you turned back to him, Aurélien was grinning, and not just any grin—the kind that reached his eyes, pure satisfaction glowing in every line of his face. You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. "You’re way too competitive, you know that?"

His smile softened. "Didn’t you say that’s what you like about me?"

He wasn’t wrong. The same competitive streak that made him relentless on the basketball court or in any game was what transformed him on the pitch. It was something you admired deeply—how your caring, charming, boyish man could shift into a confident, unstoppable force when in the zone. The look in his eyes when he was running high on adrenaline did something to you. It was a look you loved, the fire behind it undeniable.

Aurélien stepped closer, his hands grazing your leg before settling warmly on your hip. "So, what’s it gonna be?" he asked, his voice low, the challenge clear. "Surrender? Or are you gonna shoot the three?"

You pretended to think about it, your eyes narrowing in playful concentration. "I could make it," you teased, grinning.

He chuckled, shaking his head as his hand gave a gentle squeeze on your hip. "I’m not doubting that, but it’s not gonna stop the inevitable."

"The inevitable?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Me winning," he said with a smirk, lifting the hem of your shirt just slightly as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck.

Your eyes rolled, but a contented sigh escaped your lips as your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. The heat of his kiss lingered on your skin, and before you knew it, he had lifted you off the ground with ease, his strength evident as you laughed, your legs dangling playfully in the air.

"Aurélien!" you giggled, holding onto him tighter, though you had no intention of letting go.

"Might as well take this inside," he chuckled. "You owe me a shirt."