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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months ago

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Amazon illegally interferes with an historic UK warehouse election

I'm in to TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (Monday, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).

Amazon is very good at everything it does, including being very bad at the things it doesn't want to do. Take signing up for Prime: nothing could be simpler. The company has built a greased slide from Prime-curiosity to Prime-confirmed that is the envy of every UX designer.

But unsubscribing from Prime? That's a fucking nightmare. Somehow the company that can easily figure out how to sign up for a service is totally baffled when it comes to making it just as easy to leave. Now, there's two possibilities here: either Amazon's UX competence is a kind of erratic freak tide that sweeps in at unpredictable intervals and hits these unbelievable high-water marks, or the company just doesn't want to let you leave.

To investigate this question, let's consider a parallel: Black Flag's Roach Motel. This is an icon of American design, a little brown cardboard box that is saturated in irresistibly delicious (to cockroaches, at least) pheromones. These powerful scents make it admirably easy for all the roaches in your home to locate your Roach Motel and enter it.

But the interior of the Roach Motel is also coated in a sticky glue. Once roaches enter the motel, their legs and bodies brush up against this glue and become hopeless mired in it. A roach can't leave – not without tearing off its own legs.

It's possible that Black Flag made a mistake here. Maybe they wanted to make it just as easy for a roach to leave as it is to enter. If that seems improbable to you, well, you're right. We don't even have to speculate, we can just refer to Black Flag's slogan for Roach Motel: "Roaches check in, but they don't check out."

It's intentional, and we know that because they told us so.

Back to Amazon and Prime. Was it some oversight that cause the company make it so marvelously painless to sign up for Prime, but such a titanic pain in the ass to leave? Again, no speculation is required, because Amazon's executives exchanged a mountain of internal memos in which this is identified as a deliberate strategy, by which they deliberately chose to trick people into signing up for Prime and then hid the means of leaving Prime. Prime is a Roach Motel: users check in, but they don't check out:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

When it benefits Amazon, they are obsessive – "relentless" (Bezos's original for the company) – about user friendliness. They value ease of use so highly that they even patented "one click checkout" – the incredibly obvious idea that a company that stores your shipping address and credit card could let you buy something with a single click:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1-Click#Patent

But when it benefits Amazon to place obstacles in our way, they are even more relentless in inventing new forms of fuckery, spiteful little landmines they strew in our path. Just look at how Amazon deals with unionization efforts in its warehouses.

Amazon's relentless union-busting spans a wide diversity of tactics. On the one hand, they cook up media narratives to smear organizers, invoking racist dog-whistles to discredit workers who want a better deal:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/amazon-chris-smalls-smart-articulate-leaked-memo

On the other hand, they collude with federal agencies to make workers afraid that their secret ballots will be visible to their bosses, exposing them to retaliation:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/amazon-violated-labor-law-alabama-union-election-labor-official-finds-rcna1582

They hold Cultural Revolution-style forced indoctrination meetings where they illegally threaten workers with punishment for voting in favor of their union:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/business/economy/amazon-union-staten-island-nlrb.html

And they fire Amazon tech workers who express solidarity with warehouse workers:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/amazon-fires-tech-employees-workers-criticism-warehouse-climate-policies/

But all this is high-touch, labor-intensive fuckery. Amazon, as we know, loves automation, and so it automates much of its union-busting: for example, it created an employee chat app that refused to deliver any message containing words like "fairness" or "grievance":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak

Amazon also invents implausible corporate fictions that allow it to terminate entire sections of its workforce for trying to unionize, by maintaining the tormented pretense that these workers, who wear Amazon uniforms, drive Amazon trucks, deliver Amazon packages, and are tracked by Amazon down to the movements of their eyeballs, are, in fact, not Amazon employees:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-drivers-unionized-then-amazon-tried-to-terminate-his-contract/

These workers have plenty of cause to want to unionize. Amazon warehouses are sources of grueling torment. Take "megacycling," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM that workers are plunged into without warning or the right to refuse. This isn't just a night shift – it's a night shift that makes it impossible to care for your children or maintain any kind of normal life.

Then there's Jeff Bezos's war on his workers' kidneys. Amazon warehouse workers and drivers notoriously have to pee in bottles, because they are monitored by algorithms that dock their pay for taking bathroom breaks. The road to Amazon's warehouse in Coventry, England is littered with sealed bottles of driver piss, defenestrated by drivers before they reach the depot inspection site.

There's so much piss on the side of the Coventry road that the prankster Oobah Butler was able to collect it, decant it into bottles, and market it on Amazon as an energy beverage called "Bitter Lemon Release Energy," where it briefly became Amazon's bestselling energy drink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

(Butler promises that he didn't actually ship any bottled piss to people who weren't in on the gag – but let's just pause here and note how weird it is that a guy who hates our kidneys as much as Jeff Bezos built and flies a penis-shaped rocket.)

Butler also secretly joined the surge of 1,000 workers that Amazon hired for the Coventry warehouse in advance of a union vote, with the hope of diluting the yes side of that vote and forestall the union. Amazon displayed more of its famously selective competence here, spotting Butler and firing him in short order, while totally failing to notice that he was marketing bottles of driver piss as a bitter lemon drink on Amazon's retail platform.

After a long fight, Amazon's Coventry workers are finally getting their union vote, thanks to the GMB union's hard fought battle at the Central Arbitration Committee:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/04/26/amazon-warehouse-workers-in-coventry-will-vote-on-trade-union-recognition/

And right on schedule, Amazon has once again discovered its incredible facility for ease-of-use. The company has blanketed its shop floor with radioactively illegal "one click to quit the union" QR codes. When a worker aims their phones at the code and clicks the link, the system auto-generates a letter resigning the worker from their union.

As noted, this is totally illegal. English law bans employers from "making an offer to an employee for the sole or main purpose of inducing workers not to be members of an independent trade union, take part in its activities, or make use of its services."

Now, legal or not, this may strike you as a benign intervention on Amazon's part. Why shouldn't it be easy for workers to choose how they are represented in their workplaces? But the one-click system is only half of Amazon's illegal union-busting: the other half is delivered by its managers, who have cornered workers on the shop floor and ordered them to quit their union, threatening them with workplace retaliation if they don't.

This is in addition to more forced "captive audience" meetings where workers are bombarded with lies about what life in an union shop is like.

Again, the contrast couldn't be more stark. If you want to quit a union, Amazon makes this as easy as joining Prime. But if you want to join a union, Amazon makes that even harder than quitting Prime. Amazon has the same attitude to its workers and its customers: they see us all as a resource to be extracted, and have no qualms about tricking or even intimidating us into doing what's best for Amazon, at the expense of our own interests.

The campaigning law-firm Foxglove is representing five of Amazon's Coventry workers. They're doing the lord's work:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/05/02/legal-challenge-to-amazon-uks-new-one-click-to-quit-the-union-tool/

All this highlights the increasing divergence between the UK and the US when it comes to labor rights. Under the Biden Administration, @NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo has promulgated a rule that grants a union automatic recognition if the boss does anything to interfere with a union election:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

In other words, if Amazon tries these tactics in the USA now, their union will be immediately recognized. Abruzzo has installed an ultra-sensitive tilt-sensor in America's union elections, and if Bezos or his class allies so much as sneeze in the direction of their workers' democratic rights, they automatically lose.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/06/one-click-to-quit-the-union/#foxglove

Image: Isabela.Zanella (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ballot-box-2.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #unions #coventry #amazon #union busting #qr codes #foxglove #one click to quit the union #labor #gwb

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fiercynn · 1 year ago

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poetry outlets that support a free palestine

after finding out that the poetry foundation/POETRY magazine pulled a piece that discussed anti-zionism because they "don't want to pick a side" during the current genocide, i decided to put together a list of online outlets who are explicitly in solidarity with palestine where you can read (english-language) poetry, including, except where otherwise stated, by palestinian poets!

my criteria for this is not simply that they have published palestinian poets or pro-palestine statements in the past; i only chose outlets that, since october 7, 2023, have done one of the following:

published a solidarity statement against israeli occupation & genocide

signed onto the open letter for writers against the war on gaza and/or the open letter boycotting the poetry foundation

published content that is explicitly pro-palestine or anti-zionist, including poetry that explicitly deals with israeli occupation & genocide

shared posts that are pro-palestine on their social media accounts

fyi this is undoubtedly a very small sample. also some of these sites primarily feature nonfiction or short stories, but they do all publish poetry.

outlets that focus entirely on palestinian or SWANA (southwest asia and north africa) literature

we are not numbers, a palestinian youth-led project to write about palestinian lives

arab lit, a magazine for arabic literature in translation that is run by a crowd-funded collective

sumuo, an arab magazine, platform, and community (they appear to have a forthcoming palestine special print issue edited by leena aboutaleb and zaina alsous)

mizna, a platform for contemporary SWANA (southwest asian & north africa) lit, film, and art

the markaz review, a literary arts publication and cultural institution that curates content and programs on the greater middle east and communities in diaspora

online magazines who have published special issues of all palestinian writers (and all of them publish palestinian poets in their regular issues too)

fiyah literary magazine in december 2021, edited by nadia shammas and summer farah (if you have $6 usd to spare, proceeds from the e-book go to medical aid for palestinians)

strange horizons in march 2021, edited by rasha abdulhadi

the baffler in june 2021, curated by poet/translators fady joudah & lena khalaf tuffaha

the markaz review has two palestine-specific issues, on gaza and on palestinians in israel, currently free to download

literary hub featured palestinian poets in 2018 for the anniversary of the 1948 nakba

adi magazine, who have shifted their current (october 2023) issue to be all palestinian writers

outlets that generally seem to be pro-palestine/publish pro-palestine pieces and palestinian poetry

protean magazine (here's their solidarity statement)

poetry online (offering no-fee submissions to palestinian writers)

sundog lit (offering no-fee submissions to palestinian writers through december 1, 2023)

guernica magazine (here's a twitter thread of palestinian poetry they've published) guernica ended up publishing a zionist piece so fuck them too

split this rock (here's their solidarity statement)

the margins by the asian-american writers' workshop

the offing magazine

rusted radishes

voicemail poems

jewish currents

the drift magazine

asymptote

the poetry project

ctrl + v journal

the funambulist magazine

n+1 magazine (signed onto the open letter and they have many pro-palestine articles, but i'm not sure if they have published palestinian poets specifically)

hammer & hope (signed onto the letter but they are a new magazine only on their second issue and don't appear to have published any palestinian poets yet)

if you know others, please add them on!

#poetry #free palestine #fuck you poetry foundation #palestinian poets series

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meazalykov · 16 days ago

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first lady

barcelona femeni x uswnt!reader

summary: the girls give you a nickname for being the first american on the senior team

the day you arrive at barcelona feels like a dream. the journey from being just another girl playing in american youth leagues to standing in the famed blaugrana colors is something you never imagined happening.

you walk into the training grounds two days after your signing was official, trying to keep your nerves in check. the weight of being the first american on barcelona femení’s senior team presses on your shoulders.

keep in mind you’re the first american on the senior team.. there is an american at la masia, onyeka, who you’ve been in contact with– you hope to play with her someday. she has been telling you about the fun experience playing in barcelona.

you’re humble but you can’t wait to see what onyeka is talking about.

the first person you meet is alexia. she approaches you with a calm confidence, her presence demanding respect even though she doesn’t say much at first.

“bienvenida,” she says simply, her smile small but warm. it’s clear she’s sizing you up, trying to see if you’re up to the challenge. there’s no coldness in her eyes though, just curiosity.

you return the smile, trying not to seem too overwhelmed.

“gracias. it’s an honor to be here.”

“we’ll see how you do in training,” she says shortly after she gets to know you, teasing, but the underlying tone is serious.

alexia is known for her dedication, and she’s testing you without even needing to. her acceptance means everything here.

from that moment, she takes you under her wing. she doesn’t hover or smother, but she’s there when you need her on and off of the pitch. during drills, she’s quick to offer tips, showing you the ropes of how barcelona plays—fluid, fast, and always a step ahead.

it’s a steep learning curve, but you thrive on it. your dribbling skills, honed from years of street-style play and youth development back in the states, shine here in ways even you didn’t expect.

you notice the way some of your teammates watch you closely at first—wondering if you’ll live up to the hype. the media had already dubbed you the "american girl version of ronaldinho" for your flair and trickery with the ball, and it seems the team had caught wind of the nickname, too.

slowly, as you start dancing past defenders in the league and champions league— leaving them in your wake.

the skepticism by the team fades, replaced by respect.

alexia seems particularly impressed by your ball control. during the first el clasico, after you nutmeg two defenders and finish with a perfect strike, she pulls you aside.

“not bad,” she says, though her smirk tells you she’s genuinely impressed.

“keep playing like that, and you’ll fit in here just fine.”

you start to settle in over the next few weeks. the locker room becomes a second home, the banter flowing easier as the language barrier fades.

you’re still working on your spanish, but with every day, you pick up more phrases, understanding the jokes, and joining in on the conversations.

the younger players, especially vicky, start warming up to you quickly. she loves your laid-back vibe, but also the intensity you bring on the field.

alexia, though, remains your closest connection. she never hesitates to correct you or push you harder in training. she also pulls you into the social side of the team. the late-night dinners, the coffee stops after practice, the little moments that build a bond off the pitch as much as on it.

two months in, you feel like you’ve found your place. the media continues to talk about your dribbling, and your presence as the first american on the team still makes headlines.

the comparisons to ronaldinho haven’t stopped, though they’ve started to bother you less. you just want to be seen as you—not a copy of someone else, no matter how legendary.

it is after one particularly grueling training session that the idea of a new nickname starts floating around the locker room.

you’re outside on the pitch with patri, perfecting your penalties while the rest of the team heads into the locker room.

inside, vicky, ellie, and ewa sit around, chatting while everyone cools down.

“so, what do you think we should call her?” vicky asks, leaning back against her locker.

“i mean, she’s amazing, but we can’t keep calling her ‘the american ronaldinho.’”

“yeah, she’s her own player,” ellie agrees.

“we need something that fits her.”

ewa, sitting across from them, grins.

“but it has to tie in with her being american, right? i mean, it’s a big deal. maybe not to her– but she’s the first american to play on the senior team for the women.”

ellie nods, deep in thought.

“maybe something with ‘first’? i mean, she is the first…”

they go back and forth for a while, throwing out suggestions. nothing seems to stick, though, until ewa suddenly straightens up, her face lighting up like she’s cracked the code.

“wait, i’ve got it,” she says, snapping her fingers.

“how about ‘first lady’?”

the room goes quiet for a second as everyone processes it.

pina raises an eyebrow.

“first lady? like... the president’s wife?”

ewa shrugs, still grinning.

“yeah, but think about it. she’s the *first* american on the team. it’s perfect. and it’s an american term, so it’s fitting.

"plus, y/n got elegance on the ball." patri notes.

slowly, the others start to nod, the idea settling in. salma, sitting on the opposite side of the room, lets out a laugh.

“that’s genius. she’s literally our ‘first lady.’”

before long, everyone’s onboard, laughing and testing out the nickname as they get ready to head out.

the whole team seems to love it, and as they file out of the locker room, they’re excited to see how you’ll react.

meanwhile, you’re still out on the pitch, working through your penalties with patri. by the time you make your way back inside, you’re sweaty and tired, but satisfied with the extra work. as you step into the locker room, you immediately notice the way everyone is looking at you, a few smirking, some trying not to laugh.

salma is the first to break.

“hey, ‘first lady,’ how’d the penalties go?”

you blink in confusion, pausing mid-step.

“wait, what?”

salma grins wider, the rest of the team now barely holding back their laughter.

“you know, ‘first lady,’ since you’re the first american here.”

it takes a second for it to click, but when it does, you burst out laughing, doubling over as you process the absurdity of it.

“first lady? seriously?”

the whole room erupts into laughter with you, and suddenly, it feels right. the nickname sticks, and soon, it’s all anyone calls you.

at first, it’s a playful joke, but after a few weeks, you realize it’s become your new identity within the team.

even mapi starts using it, giving you a teasing smirk during passing drills.

“first lady, over here!” she calls during one session, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning.

as the season rolls on, you know you’ll keep proving that you’re not just the first american here—you’re their first lady.

masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #esmee brugts #alexia putellas #vicky lopez #mapi leon #jana fernandez #keira walsh #aitana bonmati #kika nazareth

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johnbrand · 4 months ago

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The Stages of Arabization

With @next-pharaoh

“Jeez, it’s so bright here,” Henry oriented his phone up in front of the sun, hoping to block out a few of the direct rays.

“Well, you are closer to the equator,” his boyfriend, Alex, joked. “Dubai is a bit farther south than Boston.”

Henry rolled his eyes, “What would I do without that intelligence of yours?”

“Too bad you don’t have your own.” They both laughed at that remark. The pair had started dating in graduate school, with Alex venturing down the path of mathematics and Henry following the racial trends of Sub-Saharan Africa. Everyone joked it should have been the other way around, given Henry’s geeky, pale exterior fit the math nerd stereotype better than Alex’s lanky, darker frame. But Henry loved his studies, so much so that he had been invited to a conference in the United Arab Emirates to talk on them.

Suddenly, Henry received an email notification from one of his sponsors. “Dang, looks like I have to get back to work. Just received an essay to review before the next presentation.”

“How long do you have?”

“Barely 30 minutes.”

“Well forward it to me,” Alex replied. “We can tag team it. I know this isn’t my strong suit but at least I can help cover more ground.”

Henry thought that was a great idea. Without a second thought, he redirected the email and wished his boyfriend goodbye. Alex would send his thoughts over text when he had finished.

“‘The Stages of Arabization’,” Henry recited aloud. He was planning to head inside to read–gingers burnt way too easily in the direct sunlight–but he noticed the writing was pretty short. Barely even a page. Henry was surprised to realize the essay was in Arabic, but he quickly utilized a translator app to resolve the issue.

Stage 1: Islamization Islam becomes the majority religion or state religion.

Strange formatting, but Henry understood the statement as rather truthful. The historically successful Arabizations of Morocco, Algeria, and Egypt had followed a similar suit. Even some of the countries he had studied had shown signs of this progression.

Stage 2: Linguistic Arabization Islam brings fixation on Arabic language, thus the Arabic language becomes central to the society's identity. Arabic becomes the state language.

Henry found this statement agreeable as well. There was something so methodical about the Arabic language, how it melodically ebbed and flowed in such a way that it twirled through the hearing canals directly into the brain. Anyone who listened to it almost became entranced, as if captured by its beauty and awakened by its fluidity. Henry closed the translator app before continuing on.

Stage 3: Cultural Arabization Arab cultural practices become common due to Islamization. Own cultural heritage is deemed closer to ages of ignorance and thus gradually forgotten and replaced with Islam.

Henry had followed this trend through his research. Many of the countries he had analyzed over the years had demonized their traditional practices once introduced to Islamic culture. It was like watching a child being given a new toy; the original quickly discarded for one deemed far more superior. These assimilations had even started to appear in Henry’s life. Thobes were the new fashion craze among his fellow researchers, midday prayer rooms had taken over labs, and even the cafeteria had become completely halal.

Stage 4: Ethnic Arabization Planned migration of many Arab tribes and deliberate suppression of the numbers of natives, consequently major demographic shift. Media encourages Arabs to multiply and mix.

This too had arrived in the workplace. Rapidly, it had become obvious that the university was prioritizing hiring Arab and Arab-American employees. Political discourse on abortion had suddenly disappeared, instead dropping birth control from medical insurances and advertising “Reversion Through Fertilization”. Luckily, Hussein had not been influenced much by this change. In fact, he almost felt as if he was somehow a part of it.

Stage 5: Fully Arab State Arabs and the Arabized become elite and majority. Non-Arabized are shunned and pressured to revert until no opposition remains.

Hussein smiled with pride, closing the essay he was sure to give high remarks to. His best friend Ali had a similar response, a text from him glowing with praise about the truth in the writer’s words. The essay was eloquent, thought-provoking, and would become mandatory literature at his lab, and soon throughout the reverting world. It reflected the future, similarly to his own phone screen: masculine, virile Arab men. Hussein felt a divine sense of conformity with Islam, one all were soon destined to see.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #arabization #unintended results #Arabophile

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cripplecharacters · 7 months ago

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Navigation: Helpful Posts

[large text: Navigation: Helpful Posts]

Complication of posts from CrippleCharacters, as well as other blogs providing advice on writing disabled characters!

This post covers the general topics - for posts on specific disabilities, please see part two.

Last update: 23/10/2024

Character Making Basics and Ideas

[large text: Character Making Basics and Ideas]

- How to Start Doing Research When Writing a Disabled Character - Disabilities that are Common but Have no Representation - Facial Differences that Would Be Cool to Actually See Represented - How to Do Historical Research - Our "Disabled Character Ideas" Tag - Our "Character Inspo" Tag

How to Describe XYZ?

[large text: How to Describe XYZ?]

- Blindness Tropes: the "Blank Look" - Describing Characters with Facial Differences as Pretty - Difference between Fetishization and Being Seen as Beautiful - First Description: when to mention the Facial Difference - How Often Should You Mention Mobility Aids? - Dialogue and Speech Disorders - Sign Language in Dialogue - Words for Residual Limbs (stumps) - Describing a Limp - Words to Use instead of "Walk" for Wheelchair Users - How to not Describe Facial Differences as "Scary"

How to Draw XYZ?

[large text: How to Draw XYZ?]

- Tips for Drawing Characters with Facial Differences - Annoying Tropes in Art Re:Facial Differences - Drawing Blind Characters - Drawing Amputees - How to Draw (and not draw) Characters with Vitiligo - Drawing Cane Users - Decorating Wheelchairs - Drawing Characters with Down Syndrome - Drawing Characters with Cleft Lip - Drawing Burn Survivors

General

[large text: General]

- What's Off-Limits for Non-disabled Writers? - Writing a Newly Disabled Character - Writing a Visibly Different Character - The Accident - Including Disabled Communities - Disabled Characters in Historical Fiction - Coming up with Fictional Disabilities - Tokenism Discussion - Disability and Superpowers - Curing and "Fixing" Disabled Characters - Is It Realistic to Have Multiple Disabled Characters? - "Jaws Effect": how media affect the real world - Worldbuilding with Accessibility in Mind - How to Let Readers Figure Out the Character's Disability - Does the Disability Need to Have a "Purpose"? - Including Ableism in the Story - Casual Representation vs Fetishization (with albinism as an example) - Including Body Horror without doing an Ableism

General Tropes

[large text: General Tropes]

- "Super-Crip": Magic and Disability - Abled Characters Pretending to be Disabled - I Did a Trope but It's Too Late - What You Should Do - made with the mask trope in mind, but could be applied more widely - Magical Cure - made with blindness in mind - Including Healing Magic without Disability Erasure - Why is the Cure Trope Bad? - How to Do a Scary Disability Reveal without being Ableist? - Disabled Character Recovering, but without Disability Erasure - Killing off a Disabled Character without Doing an Ableism - Writing a Disabled Villain without Doing an Ableism - What is Fetishization of Disability, and what Isn't - Not All Sign Language Users are Mute and American

Mobility Aids

[large text: Mobility Aids]

- General Overview - Overview, but with More Options - not writing advice, educational - More Detailed Look at Crutches and Canes - Magic Mobility Aids - Tips on Writing Wheelchair Users - Writing a New Cane User - "But Mobility Aids Wouldn't Exist in my Fantasy World" - Basic Information on Service Animals - Should My Non-Modern Wheelchair User use XYZ instead of a Wheelchair? - Accessible Wizarding for Wheelchair Users - Fidgeting with Wheelchairs - Pet Peeves for Cane User Characters - Wheelchair user trying to navigate Inaccessibility

Other

[large text: Other]

- Writing Characters with Tourette's Syndrome - Introduction to Writing Characters with Speech Disorders - Writing Little People (characters with dwarfism) - Dwarfism and Fantasy Stories - Stereotypes around Characters with Dwarfism - Writing and Drawing Burn Survivors: basics and resources - Caring for a Burn Scar: the everyday things - On Chemical Burns - Writing Characters with ASPD - Writing a Character with Russel-Silver Syndrome - Complex Dissociative Disorders Terminology: A Basic Primer - What to Consider when Writing about Pollution-induced Disability - Portraying Psychosis + Review of Jinx from Arcane - Difference between "Nonverbal" and "Nonspeaking"

Making Your Content Accessible to Disabled Readers

[large text: Making Your Content Accessible to Disabled Readers]

- Why add alt text? - Image Descriptions Tutorial - Writing Image Descriptions for People Who Can't Write Them - "But how do blind people even use alt text" - How to Tag Your Posts (Tumblr) - ScreenReaders and Color Text (Tumblr) - FanFiction Accessibility

Recommended Blogs/Sources

[large text: Recommended Blogs/Sources]

- @blindbeta - @cy-cyborg - @a-little-revolution - @mimzy-writing-online - @writingdrugs - @vitiligo-is-not-a-trend - Fantastic website for any historical needs

#mod sasza #long post #navigation #writing advice #how to write #writing help #writeblr #writing tips

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hyunjinsjeans · 3 months ago

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He knows (Han ver.)

Felix ver.| Seungmin ver. | I.N ver.

MASTERLIST

Synopsis: after an unfortunate event you decide to tell Jisung that you are ready to give it another go.

Type: Fluff 🧸, angst ❤️‍🩹, female reader 💃, SFW 👍

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, description of medical emergencies and health issues, mentions of mental health issues. Uhm there is mentions of dogs being horny(?)

Word count: 3111 words (your honor, I plead oopsie daisy!)

AN: This one is a little heavier, please don’t read if you are sensitive towards the topics described in the warnings. Something about my favorite soft boy Han made my brain go “pain” and here we are, BUT I promise it gets really cute and comforting in the end. Again, I couldn’t stop writing 😭

You cleaned up the kitchen after finishing eating dinner and drank a tall glass of water. You rubbed your stomach and looked around the house. Jisung was going to be home in a few hours, probably tired from his trip to Paris.

He had been gone for only a couple of days, not even an entire week.

You knew this was hard on both of you, but felt like maybe he was making it harder than it had to be. It had been over a year already… he should relax a little now. But he could not, he still felt guilty every time he walked out the door with a suitcase in his hand.

With a sigh, you decided to head to bed. His flight would land almost at midnight and then Ji would have a couple days off. He was most likely going to come home and slide into bed beside you, quietly attempting to cuddle you without waking you. It always failed because you missed him too much to not notice his warmth and his gentle touch when he wrapped his arm around you and kissed the back of your shoulder.

It all happened the year before. The boys were promoting a single and had been invited to a fashion show in New York, their schedule was crazy, they were away for a little over a month - which was odd, since they were not touring or playing shows.

You and the other girls, the significant others, had a group chat, “SORacha”, was the name given by the boys. Everyone was a little on edge with how the American media was treating the boys, especially the disrespectful and downright racist paparazzi who seemed to start following them around everywhere. For you the worst part was coming home to a sad looking Bbama, both of you obviously missed Jisung.

You were only 8 days away from seeing Han again, things had been normal around the house. You went to work and then came back home to walk Bbama, having dinner with the fluffy dog eating behind you from their dish on the floor. Some days you went out for drinks with your friends, most of all you kept in touch with the other girls. It was like a support group while your boyfriends and husbands were away. You would help each other in the most mundane things, and you would also reach out to each other to keep everyone's spirits up.

That night you had gone out for a drink with your coworkers, but you were not drinking much since you needed to get home to read some materials for your Japanese class. Jisung had insisted it was fun learning a new language as an adult and you signed up for the course only to find that it was more demanding than you anticipated. Regardless, you were a diligent student so you prioritized your study time over having that second bottle of soju.

It did not change much, by the end of the night you found yourself blinking away tears in confusion as you were blinded by the bright lights shining atop of you inside the ambulance.

Your emergency contact, LeeKnow!Reader arrived at the hospital in her checkered pj’s. You were already in the ER by then and she was not allowed to see you until after the doctors were able to get you stable. Everything happened too fast, two of your drunk co-workers (sobered up by the scare and adrenaline) explained to LeeKnow!Reader what had happened. You did nothing wrong, you said your goodbyes and went to cross the road during a red light, following the zebra lines on the pavement but a car drove past disregarding the stop light. They hit you so fast you were pushed into the air a few meters to everyone’s shock. Thankfully, you landed against another car’s hood. Although it broke a couple of ribs, it meant you did not hit your head on the pavement.

You required surgery for the internal bleeding and the doctors were clear you would be in the hospital for at least a few days to make sure you would be okay since you did get a neck and back injury.

LeeKnow!Reader did not even ask you, she signed the papers and arranged for you to have the emergency surgery, without questions she picked up the phone to immediately call your husband, and then your mother. She knew you were not going to want to interrupt Han in whatever he was doing but this was serious. So she called him.

When you woke up in a hospital room after the surgery, he was there with your mom and your sister sitting next to him.

You felt awful. Not only physically but also mentally. All he ever asked you to do when he left home was to take care of yourself (and his fur baby). And you managed to get yourself ran over by a drunk driver.

Recovering was not easy, you had a cast around your middle and on your left leg. You had to wear a neck brace for a couple of months and even after you dealt with a lot of pain from the simplest things like sitting or laying down for too long.

Jisung was worried, to an extreme extent. He felt guilty he was not there with you when it happened. He liked to think that he would have picked you up and that he could have avoided you needing to cross the road. It did not help that you became so weak so quickly. He knew you to be independent and strong but during your recovery you were unable to walk the stairs of your two story home. You could not go out to walk with him and take Bbama to the dog park. You could no longer turn to the gym for an outlet for your anxiety, and you felt useless.

You were different. It was obvious to your friends and to your husband. He could tell, he was not stupid and he was also not blind. He saw you shut him out, you were shutting everyone out in fact. You stopped singing around the house because you were not doing chores. Instead you could only sit and read or knit in absolute silence. You were no longer looking for playlists to have as background noise while you went outside to take care of your garden - hell, the garden was a mess you did not even touch anymore. You slept so much too, sneaking naps here and there. You avoided phone calls and texts too. And you began losing weight fast, no longer having an interest in food. Jisung had to knock some sense into you, get you off of autopilot. You could not help it when he was face to face with you, pointing out that you were in pain and it was easy to see. He felt guilty you had been hurt in his absence and he was feeling guilty maybe he was doing something wrong now that he was home. Han demanded to know if it was him and his work or both. He felt like somehow he had let you down but he wanted to make it better.

It was not him, you were depressed from the feeling of confinement within your own body. Like you had a broken thing that did not work but you had to still push it around as if it did, only to be frustrated when even breathing was painful. You had cried to him, and he held you with the gentleness no one but him knew to have with you. What made things worse in your head was the idea that this accident had indefinitely put a pause on your lives… just when you and Han decided it was a good time to start your family. Of course you were not in shape to have a baby, this broke your heart as it added up with all the other “can’t”s that began appearing in your life since coming home from the hospital.

And while you were better today, well over a year after the accident, you still saw the hints of guilt in your husband’s eyes every time he left home for a trip somewhere far away. If he could, he would bring you along, but you were still waiting for your citizenship and couldn’t leave the country until your paperwork was processed… it would be at least another 6 months.

You took your necklace and earrings off and left them near your vanity, you twisted your wedding ring in your finger and left it there. At night, you liked to keep it on as a reminder that your husband would always be there for you even if he wasn’t in bed with you.

Jisung got in the car at almost 1:00 am, he was tired and a little jet lagged. He wanted nothing more than to sleep in the comfort of his own bed, next to his favorite girl.

He wondered how your day had been, since you only went back to work a couple months ago. He knew you were excited about it, about getting your life back. Han was also excited about seeing you shake the gloomy attitude, and it began the second you got your casts off and started your physical therapy. Jisung loved how determined you looked, a small girl fighting a 2lb weight in each hand. But he was so proud to see you face recovery with courage.

As of late, you were able to do everything you used to although some days you had to take it easy thanks to your back injury that was still healing.

Jisung entered the home and was met with silence. Not even Bbama made a sound, he knew his dog must have been sleeping with you upstairs. Upon entering your shared bedroom he could see he was correct, as you slept with a peaceful expression and an arm wrapped around the fluffy white dog.

You heard the sound of light footsteps on the floor and the sheets moved behind you. Jisung’s scent of flowers and fresh rain reached your senses and the familiar weight of his arm around your waist confirmed his presence to you. A deep sigh left your body, all muscles in your body able to relax in his company as if he was a warm bath to drown all your worries in.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, Y/N” he whispered against the exposed skin of your shoulder before laying a soft kiss there. “You should sleep.”

“I missed you,” you confessed with your hand leaving your little dog to hold onto your husband’s hand. “You should sleep too.”

“Mmm,” he nuzzled against your neck, “I’m sure I missed you more.” He babbled a little, exhaustion taking the best of him.

You did not reply to that, already swallowed by sleep in his comforting embrace.

***

“Oh my God…” Jisung ran to his small dog, pulling him away from the other small dog. “Where are your manners? How are you not embarrassed?” He talked to his own dog and you laughed at it from the bench.

“Look at this,” Jisung’s ear were bright red as the other dog’s owner approached, “it’s not a female! Put that away!” He urged his dog to calm down.

You laughed harder as your husband apologized for Bbama’s behavior. He had been humping other dogs a lot lately, you thought it was fair to either let him have a girlfriend or neuter him. Jisung was unsure of what to do, the scene at the dog park might be the wake up call he needed.

You covered your mouth with your hand and fake-coughed to hide your laughter as Jisung walked back with the small dog on the leash again.

“Why is he so horny?” He whisper-yelled.

This only fueled your amusement and you giggled. “He wants to get some, let the poor guy have sex!”

“I know he humps the duck plushie regularly, but this is a lot…” Jisung complained, “and why is he humping other male dogs?”

You looked down at the innocent looking little white ball of fur and offered your husband a kind smile. “Love is love, Ji!”

Jisung rolled his eyes but he put his hands up in defense, “not that I don’t respect that… but seriously, what’s up with him?”

You shrugged, looking away you saw a couple with their big labrador and a little boy. The boy held the dog’s leash and the dog seemed to know it was better to pretend the boy was guiding him.

“Maybe he knows I want a baby…” you said before registering that the words in your mind had left your mouth, “wait!” You snapped your head back in Jisung’s direction.

You felt all color drain from your face and your blood rushed to your feet. Jisung’s eyes were opened wide and round like plates, his lips pursed together made his cheeks look even larger and more comical.

“You want a baby?” He blurted out with incredulity.

To him it was the single craziest thing you had said ever. Why would you want a baby? You were technically recovered from the accident but you still lived with some reminders of it. He still lived with reminders of it too. And a baby? You carrying a baby? No. He felt his mouth go dry. It was not that he did not want you to have a baby. He would be thrilled to have someone as amazing as you be the mother of his kids; but he was not sure you were in good enough condition to do it. He would be scared to see you as affected as you had been after the accident.

“Well, I said it out loud, didn’t I?” You laughed nervously.

Han swallowed and stared, paying little mind to Bbama pulling on his leash to smell some weeds growing around a bush.

“Now? Do you want it now?”

You sought his hand and intertwined your fingers together. He looked down at your hands with the same wide eyes. It was like you were playing with his heart.

When he felt how cool your hand was and how regular your pulse felt against his skin, while his heart raced his thoughts and his palm became clammy in an instant… he wondered how it was possible you were this confident.

“Of course not now. Not right now,” you shrugged further, leaning your chin on your shoulder to look back at him to your right. “But last year we were ready to try, right? I want to try again, Ji.”

Jisung let out a quiet sound and squeezed your hand in fear. He could not bring himself to shut you down, he tried to think of how to say it.

“I don’t think we should yet.” He decided to say, pursing his lips he looked down at his lap, “it’s still too soon for you. I don’t want you to get hurt having a baby.”

Your heart sank and your small smile slipped from your face. Would he ever let it go? He could feel your hand go limp between his fingers, his gaze fell on your features and he sighed. Everything in him wanted to say yes, to give in to your every desire… but he had to be reasonable, he had to take care of you. He loved you too much to risk losing you because he got selfish, greedy and horny.

“I’m-” you fought yourself not to cry, this was not a temper tantrum; this was a grown up conversation, you needed to remain calm. “I’m okay. I’m not going to get hurt.”

Jisung saw right through you, he pulled you into his side and let go of your hand to wrap his arm around you, smelling the soft fragrance of your shampoo as your hair flew in the air. Lavender and vanilla. He kissed your forehead.

“Y/N, I love you. But you just got back to work, your tomatoes are going wild in the garden and there’s yarn everywhere; I think you have enough on your plate without adding a baby into the mix.”

You looked up at him and pouted, “I want a baby quokka to dress up in that yarn all over the house!” You admit with watery eyes.

Jisung’s eyes lit up with realization.

You had been knitting for weeks. More like months. Not even once did he stop to appreciate or wonder how and why you kept making little pieces of clothing. If he ever had to explain it to himself he would assume they were for your pet. And now he felt stupid. So stupid.

This was something you had been thinking about for a while. A long while.

“Babe…” he cried as he hugged you to him with both strong arms, “why didn’t you tell me before?!”

You wrapped an arm around his slender waist.

“I didn’t think you were that oblivious,” you admitted. “Seriously, d’you ever notice what I knit?”

Your husband shut his eyes closed and held you, placing his chin on top of your head. You were not going to drop the subject.

So he did the best thing he could think of: throw the ball to another player.

“...we need to hear from the doctor, Y/Nie…I need to know that you’ll be okay if we get pregnant.”

You pulled away from him with hopeful eyes, unable to get past the fact that he said “if we get pregnant”.

“Is that a yes?” You asked in a small voice.

Han pointed a finger in your direction, “that’s a maybe.”

And although you tried to hide how excited it made you that he was in on it, you could not help but also feel nervous about what the doctor might say. You knew you did not want to wait much longer, but if there was really something going on with you that did not allow for the two of you to have a baby soon you would be disappointed. Jisung wouldn’t want to admit it, but seeing how bright your face became at his words and how the tears you were fighting spilled freely now as you kissed his cheek…he was kind of hopeful your checkup would turn out alright and all of his fears would go away. He did want so bad to have a baby with you.

————

Likes, Reblogs and Comments are welcome! Thank you for reading!

#stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz angst #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #han jisung angst #he knows blurb collection #hyunjinsjeans writing #female reader #stray kids x female reader #han jisung x female reader

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beardedmrbean · 12 days ago

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Centrist Democrats are slamming their far-left colleagues following Election Day, arguing that their emphasis on "identity politics" and other issues handed huge victories to the GOP.

Rep. Ritchie Torres, D-N.Y., argued that President-elect Trump has "no greater friend than the far left." Like-minded Democrats say racial politics, anti-police rhetoric and gender hysteria are alienating millions of voters.

"There is more to lose than there is to gain politically from pandering to a far left that is more representative of Twitter, Twitch, and TikTok than it is of the real world," Torres wrote on X. "The working class is not buying the ivory-towered nonsense that the far left is selling."

Longtime Democratic strategist James Carville put it more bluntly in a Sunday interview with the New York Times, calling "defund the police" the "three stupidest words in the English language."

"We could never wash off the stench of it," he said.

Torres is one of several Democratic lawmakers in both the House and the Senate who have called out his party's "nonsense." One centrist House Democrat complained to Axios on Monday that the "identity politics stuff is absolutely killing us."

Sen. Chris Murphy, D-Conn., argued on Sunday that Democrats are "out of touch with the crisis of meaning/purpose fueling MAGA."

"We don't listen enough; we tell people what's good for them. And when progressives like Bernie aggressively go after the elites that hold people down, they are shunned as dangerous populists. Why? Maybe because true economic populism is bad for our high-income base," Murphy wrote.

Not all Democrats are ready to make a change, however. When Rep. Seth Moulton, D-Mass., broke with his party to condemn biological males playing in women's sports last week, he faced an avalanche of hate.

"Democrats spend way too much time trying not to offend anyone rather than being brutally honest about the challenges many Americans face," Moulton said in a New York Times report. "I have two little girls, I don’t want them getting run over on a playing field by a male or formerly male athlete, but as a Democrat I’m supposed to be afraid to say that."

The statement resulted in calls for Moulton to resign, and at least one of his staffers quit in protest.

Massachusetts state Rep. Manny Cruz suggested Moulton's stance was "a betrayal" in a post on X.

"Congressman Moulton, your commitment then was protecting the LGBTQ community, standing up for their rights, and compassion. Now, on a political whim, our Congressman has betrayed the words he signed onto just last year by scapegoating transgender youth in sports for the failures of the national Democratic Party and leaders to win the presidential election. You said you 'would stand with Nagly and with all our community … against all forms of bigotry, discrimination, bullying, and harassment,'" Cruz wrote.

Salem city Councilor Kyle Davis, another Democrat, called for Moulton to resign.

"I’m not looking for an apology from [Moulton], I’m looking for a resignation," Davis wrote in a post on X.

Moulton refused to apologize and instead doubled down in a statement late last week.

"I will fight, as I always have, for the rights and safety of all citizens. These two ideas are not mutually exclusive, and we can even disagree on them. Yet there are many who, shouting from the extreme left corners of social media, believe I have failed the unspoken Democratic Party purity test," he said.

"We did not lose the 2024 election because of any trans person or issue. We lost, in part, because we shame and belittle too many opinions held by too many voters and that needs to stop. Let’s have these debates now, determine a new strategy for our party since our existing one failed, and then unite to oppose the Trump agenda wherever it imperils American values."

#nunyas news #the call them racist crowd #needs to listen here #or they may just keep on losing

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house-of-lovin · 2 years ago

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legally binded - 4

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev part | next part

Chapter 4: Family Bonding, Festivals and Feelings?

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, mentions of hard substances, intoxication, mature language, real people (do not read if any of these makes you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: Things are gearing up 😮‍💨 (ik i said i was gonna take a break, but i couldn’t help myself, now ill take a break lol, happy readin!)

Word Count: 6k+

“No one’s going to get cancelled — it’ll be fun.” Colin Jost smiles curtly on your flat screen TV.

You sit on the bed with a spoon hanging from your lips, an eye on the bright screen having just finished watching a rerun of Jenna’s SNL episode. You made sure to buy it as soon as it was available; locking yourself away in your room.

Currently, you are watching this week’s episode of SNL and Colin and Che are giving their weekly news update.

“Las Vegas is opening up a pop-up vaccine site in a strip club and don’t worry the strippers say the vaccine comes with singer and actress Y/N L/N. This time she’ll be the designated driver – I heard she’s on a tight leash.”

Your smile instantly drops.

“Speaking of Y/N,” Colin bounces off, reading off the cue cards. “Did you see her last week sitting in the audience during Jenna Ortega’s episode… hey, I wonder if they’re a real thing.”

Colin and Che share a knowing glance, “Nah.” They say in unison then move on to their next bit.

Scowling, you turn the TV off, practically throwing your bowl of cereal on the side table.

You supposed you can’t be too mad – all too familiar with the snide jabs and harmless jokes from others in the industry. This is what you signed up for, right?

Whatever, you’re sure people are loving it.

It’s been a whole week since you left New York and you haven’t spoken to Jenna. It seems how you two acted back in the Big Apple was a success because it got your managers to back off, for now. You didn’t see a reason to contact the actress so you let the silence pass — you see when she posts on social media.

You don’t have time to think about it because Coachella weekend is coming up soon. For the first time since Vegas, you will be working and you have been itching – wanting nothing more than to dive head-first into work mode.

It’s what you do best.

You are invited to do a guest performance on a big producer’s set for the festival. It would be your first ever time performing at Coachella but you were privy to the culture of the festival, having gone as an audience member to support your musician friends.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Link pops his head in your door, holding a phone up.

–

“Please don’t do this.” Your pleas go underheard.

“I don’t know why you keep trying, the answer is the same Y/N.” Link rolled his eyes, pointing to a house.

“I think this is the one.”

You scan the two-story typical American home tucked away in the boroughs of suburbia up in the desert, otherwise known as Coachella Valley.

Or well, Jenna’s parent’s house at least.

After Link had dropped the most terrible news; you had to be seen with Jenna in Coachella. Liv and Jake had instructed your team to drive you to stay with Jenna as you prepare for the festival – it was convenient they said.

Convenient my ass.

“Relax... Marcus will be back to pick you up, he’s gonna drop off your bags at the rental house.”

“Why can’t I just go with you then?” You ask.

“Liv said to drive you to this address. Jenna gave explicit directions to drive you here.”

You frown pulling on a loose thread on your sweater.

What could Jenna possibly want that she’d want you here? She looked pretty upset at you, the last time you talked.

You really don’t have it in you to fight with her, again, especially after the long drive from L.A. up to the desert where you thought — you’d be staying in your villa for Coachella weekend.

“Now go see the girl, please.” Link reaches over to open the door.

When you step out, the car is already driving speedily down the street not even giving you a chance to change your mind. You hear a flurry of voices from the side of the house but it sounds far away. Toy cars and trollies litter the grass yard.

Slowly, you walked up her porch, your shoes scraped as you ascend the concrete steps. Hesitating for a brief moment, you realize: Jenna is inside. Well duh. But the thought of her on the other side of the door has your heart dropping out of nowhere. You see flashes in your memory of her frown as you explain why you have to leave New York so soon.

Unspoken words as she says ‘well I thought–’

What did she think?

You would probably never know.

The door opens with a creak breaking you out of your thoughts.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” Aliyah leans against the doorframe, smiling.

You laughed, “Yeah, we do.”

She doesn’t say anything else and just yells over her shoulder, “Jenna, she’s here.”

Then walked off.

“Hi…” Jenna appears, leaning on the doorframe with a hand.

She scans you for a brief moment; not having seen you since New York, a week ago. She had to make sure you’re still alive because she hasn’t heard from you since then.

You also practically ghosted her.

After feeling guilty about how she left things with you, Jenna sent you a text the next day, asking if you made it back to Los Angeles safely.

You liked her message with a thumbs up.

A thumbs up! Not responding would have been better, the actress bitterly thought.

“Hey.” You greet. “How are you?”

“Fine. You?” She answered quickly, smile sealed tight like an envelope.

“I’m… good. Yeah. Just working.” You answer honestly.

“Oh really?” Jenna asked.

“Yeah, something for Coachella actually.”

Jenna raised her brows in surprise. “Like what?”

You send a tight-lipped smile, “It’s a surprise. People don’t know I’m here yet.”

Jenna can’t fight her excitement; giddy about being in on a secret. But then she remembers that she’s supposed to be annoyed at you and not fascinated.

“Why haven’t you texted me?” Jenna sighed, her voice dropping to a lowly whisper, in case someone was walking by.

You raised your brows, surprised by her question. “Oh… um. I’ve been busy like I said, just working, trying to keep my head down and all that.”

“Are you sure that’s it?” She asked accusingly.

You missed her tone and shrugged, reassuring her, “Yeah. Of course.”

“But, I heard you were busy this week too, filming another movie with Barry Keoghan and The Weeknd?” You changed the subject, hoping to talk about something else. She takes the bait after scanning your eyes for a second.

“Yeah, it was just a short role. But it was a lot of fun. Abel actually talked about you.”

“That’s great, I’m happy for you Jen… and yeah he’s an old friend.”

“Sung your praises pretty high, I had to make sure he was talking about the right person.”

You chuckle, “Oh okay, I see how it is.”

Your laugh caused a sudden warmness to manifest in Jenna and she couldn't help but join along. “Come on, my family has been dying to see you again.”

“Really?” You asked, stepping inside her childhood home. “So you think I made a good impression?”

She turned to look back at you, surprised that you care. “Maybe… don’t let it get to your head, though.”

You laughed as you followed her through the house. “Is that jealousy I hear Ortega? Scared you won't be the only movie star around?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Shut up. You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot that may have impressed your family?” You cocked your head and grinned wide.

“Yeah, yeah. Like, I said. Don’t let it get to your head. They could care less about celebrities and Hollywood. They’re pretty grounded.”

You shrugged, looking at the various family pictures hanging on the wall. “It’s fine. There’s only one Ortega I want to impress anyway.”

You’re not sure where that came from and it seemed Jenna shared the same thought because she raised her brows at you – but didn’t comment.

Jenna blocks you from walking when you reached the sliding glass door. “What?”

Jenna chewed her lip anxiously, “My family can be a lot. In numbers and in the other sense too. There’s a lot of us.”

“Oh… that’s okay.” You answered. A bit confused as to why she is telling you this. When you see her genuine concern your gaze softens. “Jenna, relax. I can handle the family… and I can charm anyone’s socks off.”

She relented, rolling her eyes at your joke. “Okay, okay.”

"Wait..."

Jenna turns around.

"Why am I here exactly? At your parents, that is. Link told me that you gave my driver instructions to bring me here."

Jenna bites her lip in contemplation. "Um—like I said my family wanted to see you again and I heard you were going to Coachella anyway so you know, two birds one stone."

You nod, accepting her answer.

Jenna opens the door for you two to step out.

–

Sounds of laughter rang around as you and Jenna sat in lawn chairs in her parent’s backyard.

“What are Timothee Chalamet and Zendaya like in real life?” Markus – Jenna’s brother leaned forward to ask.

“Markus!” Jenna scolded and threw her brother a glare.

The actress blushed as she sat beside you but all she felt was the vibrations of your laughter, indulging her brother’s question.

Jenna can’t help but wonder if you have other family members that spend time with you like this. You look so carefree and genuinely happy; comfortable around her family — after knowing you for a couple months now; she guesses it’s a no.

“They’re cool. Just like everyone else to be honest. Especially, Timothee, sweet guy but he’s a bit of a typical frat bro.” You joked, “And Zendaya, well. She’s just as amazing as everyone says she is. Great work ethic, it’s inspiring when you work with someone passionate like that – makes you want to be better and work harder.”

Jenna’s sisters are eating your story up. Secretly she knew they enjoyed the tales of celebrities and pop culture. It’s nearly impossible to live your life without seeing a public figure pop up on an ad on your phone or on the side of a bus stop on your drive home.

Jenna is barely home enough to be able to have moments like this where she can humour her sister's questions. But they all had their own lives to live. She's has been looking forward to this break for a while, knowing it was coming up after her long week in New York.

She still can’t describe New York.

Something seems to have shifted between you two by the end of the week. But she didn’t know if it was for the better. The two of you have this constant push and pull; where everything is fine one moment, then one of you says something and it turns tense and weird as you both stay silent or you just completely blow up on each other.

Jenna didn’t know if she had it in her to try to decipher what these restrained responses she gets from you could possibly mean.

You are an enigma; a defensive, hot-headed asshole that grinded every gear the actress had.

“Do you like Zendaya, buddy?” You bounced her niece in your lap, enjoying how the baby grabbed at your fingers.

But then Jenna turns around and you act like this. Sweet, protective, charming.

How are you the same person?

She can’t fight her smile as she watched the adorable sight.

Jenna didn’t know you were good with babies.

“I think Z would think you’re just the most adorable thing. Oh my god, Jen, can I send her a picture of us?” You turned to her, with a bright smile.

Jenna didn’t know when you started calling her by her nickname but she certainly won’t say how she enjoys how it sounds when you say it. “Uh–sure, if it’s okay with my sister.”

“Zendaya’s gonna have a picture of my baby on her phone? Uh yes!”

Jenna laughed, nodding. “I’ll take the picture.” She took your phone, opening the camera.

“What are you doing? Get in here with us." You asked with an adorable scrunch in the nose, surprising Jenna.

“Oh, I just thought— okay.” She swallows her growing grin, sliding in beside you.

Her sisters share knowing glances.

You happily scooted in, pressing your chest to her back.

Jenna is suddenly reminded of her you and her, alone in her dressing room.

She presses back into you.

“Say, cheese guys!” Jenna clears her throat.

With big bright smiles, you placed your head above her shoulder to get in the frame, repeating, “Cheese!”

Even her niece seemed to be enjoying the attention as she smiled brightly and toothless while standing on your lap with her chubby legs. Jenna snapped a couple for good measure, checking over the pictures. The three of you are squished together as she held it in portrait; you all looked cute Jenna can admit.

Like a little family.

What?

“Oh Jenna, send me that, please. I want to post it on my Instagram.” Her mom spoke up already reaching for her phone.

“Okay, okay.” Jenna rolled her eyes but sent herself the pictures first before airdropping them to – everyone – who begged for it.

“This is adorable, I think I’m gonna make this my lock screen.” You grinned, staring at the photo. She sees you typing a message, indeed sending it to the actress like you said you would. “Just for your niece.”

Jenna felt her heart skip a beat. “Are you saying you’re gonna crop me out the photo?”

“No… but now that’s a good idea, thanks.” You mocked with a smile.

“Mom, how did you already post that picture so fast?” Mia asked.

–

“Don’t be mad.” Jenna begged.

“Mad? Jenna. This isn’t what I signed up for.” You pinched the bridge of your nose.

The two of you were standing in her driveway, in a discord of course. Jenna just forced you into another situation that you wanted no part of.

“You just told Link to call off my driver and now you’re saying don’t be mad. Of course, I’m mad! Why did you say yes to your Mom, Jenna.” You sighed, dropping your hand limply.

“I didn’t know she’d insist.” She groaned walking closer, “She said that you shouldn’t stay in that big house by yourself for the weekend when there is room here, next thing I know she’s forcing me to ask you in front of everybody.”

"I'm sorry." She grabs your arm. “Link said you might be mad.”

You stare at her for a couple of moments. Their hearts are in the right place, you guessed. Eventually, you rolled your eyes and sighed. “Thank you I guess… I appreciate that the sentiment.”

Jenna smiled in relief, “Yeah, of course.” Then scrunched her nose in thought. “We actually really don’t have the room so I don’t know where she’ll put you.”

She should have known. This is so typical and cliche; sharing a bed trope? Please, can the universe be any more unoriginal?

“Mom, are you sure?” Jenna whispered as she peaked her head out the small awning of the door – making sure you can’t hear.

“Jen, go to sleep. We have a packed day tomorrow. Everyone’s coming over for the game.”

Tomorrow is sports night and her uncles, aunts, cousins and grandparents are set to come over. It was a weekly tradition for the extended family to host a gathering to watch the game every Friday; with Jenna’s busy schedule, she hasn’t been to one in months. She’s grateful this one is hosted at her house but then inwardly sighed because she should probably warn you about that too.

“Mom…” She pleaded in a whisper.

“Goodnight and be responsible. I trust you two.”

“Mom!”

Jenna dropped her head in defeat as she listened to her Mom’s footsteps dwindle further away.

“Hey, you should probably get in there before all the hot water runs out..”

She turns, seeing your freshly showered figure. For a moment, Jenna finds herself stuck. You’re rubbing a towel on your wet hair as grey sweats hung lowly on your hips and she was desperately trying to avert her eyes from the small patch of you skin exposed.

“I already showered.”

“Oh okay.” You shrugged walking over to grab your phone.

“Which side do you prefer?” You asked absentmindedly,

“What?” Jenna blinks away.

“Of the bed. Which side do you prefer?”

“Oh. The left.”

“Thank god. Every bed I’ve had to share I’ve had to fight for the right side. You’re perfect.”

Jenna watched as you jump into your preferred side, getting comfortable under her covers.

She doesn’t know why she feels a mismatched thump fall out of rhythm with her heartbeat at seeing you in her bed.

“Alright, are you gonna be weird about sharing a bed? ‘Cause I can just take the couch or call my driver to pick me up. I can get a hotel room or something.” You sighed sitting up.

Jenna furrowed her brows, “What no. Can you please stop jumping to conclusions?”

“I’m not.” You mumbled but don’t argue further. Jenna gets in beside you.

“You satisfied now?” She throws out but it sounds just shy of playful and maybe even flirtatious – definitely not how she meant for it to sound.

“Uh– sure.” You replied sliding the blanket up to your chin as you tried to get comfortable again.

There’s that weird tension again, Jenna thinks and she thinks it’s starting to annoy her.

“Okay, what’s your deal?” Jenna crossed her arms, turning to you.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not.” You sat up to face the other actress.

Jenna frowned, “Yes you are. You have been since New York. Did I do something? Because you still haven’t told me why you just left town like that.”

“I told you. Jake wanted me back for Coachella. Why else would I have just left all of a sudden?” You explained.

“I just– I just feel like you’re not telling me something.” She admits, a bit insecure. “I, at least, thought we’re friends now and when I didn’t see you in the crowd or the dressing room after SNL I was a bit… disappointed? I don't know if it’s dumb but you really did calm me down before my monologue and I wanted to thank you over dinner. But, yeah–”

Jenna looks away, missing your guilty frown. “Jenna… it’s not dumb. God, I feel like an asshole.”

“Well, sometimes you can be.”

You laugh but it’s dry. “I’m so sorry. I–I should have been there.”

You grab her hands. “Look at me, please.” It gets her to look up, the light from the lamp is bouncing off your eyes making them look softer in the dim light. “I promise, I’ll always be there for the important moments from now on. Before, during and after – we are stuck together until the foreseeable future, so.”

Jenna snorts, looking down at your hands. You begin to rub lines with your fingers on her open palm making her shiver. “Yeah, I guess we are.” She whispers.

She doesn’t know when she makes the bold move to intertwine your fingers. But for the first time since SNL, you two hold hands and this time you don’t pull away. But she doesn’t miss the questioning glint in your eyes as you look down. Jenna ignores the attention and squeezes your hand to make you look at her again.

“You mean it though?”

Your eyes soften. “I mean it.”

–

“Where’s Y/N?” Mia asked over the breakfast table.

“Rehearsals,” Jenna mumbled sleepily shoving spoonfuls of food in her dry mouth – still trying to wake up.

When the actress had awakened, the sun was high above the horizon and the desert heat was already inching inside her cracked window. But she woke up, alone.

Differing from how she went to sleep the previous night with you barely pressed up beside her as you laid with your backs to each other. Jenna only found herself un-tensing after hearing your breathing fall into short even exhales.

When she turned over to grab her phone this morning, you had sent a text:

Sorry for not waking you up. You sleep like a rock but I had to go to rehearsals. I’ll be back by 3 :)

She couldn’t be too annoyed at the smiley face you leave with your occasional messages.

“She’s performing?” Mia asks shocked.

Jenna nods, too tired for words.

“The crowd is gonna lose their minds.” Aliyah laughs. “With who?”

“Won’t say.” Jenna muttered bitterly, thinking back to her incessant begging; you never caved.

“Okay… can we talk about it, now then?”

“Talk about what Mia,” Jenna sighs dropping her fork on her plate.

“You and Y/N.” She says like it’s obvious.

“There is no me and Y/N, it’s all for the cameras. Remember the NDA I had to beg you guys to sign?” The actress rolls her eyes.

“Then why were you so upset after New York?” She challenges; tired of her sister’s silence over this whole situation. There’s no way she’s just unaffected by this.

“Mia drop it.” Her mom says.

“No. I’m serious, she’s literally staying under our roof, sharing a room with Jenna. And no one is still saying anything? Am I the only one who thinks there’s something going on?”

“Yes.” Jenna says quickly.

Mia rolls her eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question, Jen.”

Jenna crosses her arms, sitting up. “Of course I was upset. She just left town without a warning, if we didn’t catch her in the lobby she was just gonna a send a text. A text! Anyone would be upset at that — but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

But her sister doesn’t buy it. She opens her mouth to refute but their Dad swoops in saving the day. “Leave your sister alone, Mia. I’m sure whatever is going on with Y/N and Jenna – they can figure it out themselves.”

Jenna groans, “Dad, not helping.”

He shrugs, sitting at the head of the table with his own plate of breakfast.

Eventually, her family scatters to their own corners of the house to get ready for the day. Her other family members would be arriving soon and the actress had to start getting ready. Crap, she forgot to warn you about game night because you left so early. Jenna decides she’ll send you a text after she gets out of the shower.

With the raucous of the day, Jenna forgets to send the text. Her cousins arrived much earlier than anticipated and she was already getting pulled out to living room to talk about her upcoming projects. She gets so lost catching up with her cousins that she doesn’t realize when you arrive.

"Jenna, your novia is here." One of her aunts shouts making her head snap up to you as the front door opens. "Oh wow, and she's brought the whole store!"

Jenna's jaw drops as you walk in, holding multiple large bouquets of different arrangements of flowers. "Y/N?"

"Hey!" You peek your head out from the large flowers. "These are for your family... but I may have overestimated how big these were and Link refused to help me."

"Oh god, these are beautiful Y/N." Jenna's mom gets up from her seat, grabbing as many flowers as she can. "You didn't have to..."

"Oh, it's nothing, really. You guys are letting me stay here, I just wanted to express a little gratitude." You duck your head, all timid now.

Jenna knows it's not nothing. Those flowers cost a fuck ton, she would know she gets gifted those whenever she has an event.

"Well, gratitude expressed. I don't even know where to put these. Mia, Aliyah help the girl, please!"

The two sisters grab all but one smaller bouquet from your hands, walking away with smug smiles.

"Jen, get up," Aliyah whispers in passing as all the women and Jenna's dad filter over to the kitchen to view the gorgeous flowers.

She still hasn't moved from the couch and briefly, she thinks she can feel her cousin's smirking at her reaction.

"You got my family flowers?" Jenna asks dumbly, walking over slowly; ignoring everyone's eyes on them.

"Uh—yeah. Sorry if it's a bit much. I wasn't sure what everyone liked so... I got them all." You scratch your head with a bouquet in hand, catching Jenna's eye.

"These are for you..." You smile, holding out a smaller albeit more personal? flower arrangement. It felt like Jenna, somehow.

“I picked it out myself.” Your smile turns shy.

Like, if she were to walk into a flower shop and see this bouquet, she would instantly grasp it and never let go.

We still talking flowers?

"Thanks..." Jenna mumbles, grabbing the flowers; your fingertips touching sends sparks down her arm.

"Um—you're back early..." Is all she manages to say.

“Yeah… they didn’t need me for a long time so I decided to come back.” You explained, glancing at the new faces in the room. “Uh– what’s all this?”

The actress sends you a sheepish smile, “Family game night, we watch the game every Friday and cook some barbeque, it’s a whole thing. I forgot to text you, I’m sorry. You can call your driver back if this is too much.”

You laugh, squeezing her shoulder. “And miss out on great food? No, thank you.”

Jenna scans your eyes for the truth, “Are you sure? I know this isn’t exactly your scene so I understand.”

“Jen.” Your hand slides down, softly grabbing her hand. “I can’t even remember how long it’s been since the last time I had a home-cooked meal. I’m so in.”

You squeeze her hand for good measure. “Guys close the door.” Someone shouts.

Jenna doesn’t let you drop your hands this time because she’s already gripping them, pulling you to sit with her cousins – introducing you.

She ignores the giddy feeling in her chest that you want to stay.

You don’t say anything even when you’re both sitting and she’s still holding your hand.

–

“Who are you performing with?” Jenna tugs on your arm.

You squint to see her through your sunglasses. The Californian sun was making its presence known today and there are crowds of people everywhere as you tried to find some shade. It’s just past 6 PM and people are already starting to get rowdy – before all the good sets are even on.

Fish nets, sparkles and bedazzles are all you see in the sea of people and you just know you’re at Coachella.

“I can’t say…” You fight the smile on your face, finding her begging adorable. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“But Aliyah knows! I heard you whisper it to her.” She glares back at her sister standing a fair distance away from you two – who was talking to Mia and her boyfriend.

“I didn’t tell her anything, Jen. We were just fucking with you.” You laugh, sliding your hand in hers.

An unspoken comfortableness has formed between you two. Light touches are a new development in this… situation Jenna had with you.

Whether it was knees touching under the dinner table, walking shoulder to shoulder on your daily walks around the neighbourhood (there wasn’t much to do as Coachella weekend approached) or leaning her head on your shoulder as she slept when you two watched TV before bed.

And now, it seems like things have escalated to a new level of comfort where you two willingly linked fingers whenever you walked anywhere. Neither of you make a peep when someone eventually reaches for the other’s hand.

“Rude…” She pinches your side making you flinch away from her.

Jenna’s immediately tugging you back closer.

“Hey… I can’t get an injury before my performance. I’m legally binded to a contract.” You state.

Jenna snorts, “I thought you were friends with the performer? Are you really not gonna tell me who it is?”

“Nope and sure we’re friends but, I’m still contractually obligated to the festival and all that.”

“Come on Y/N!” She groaned unconsciously stepping closer to you. “I’ve been so nice to you, I haven’t called you an idiot all day!”

You laugh, “Is that supposed to win me over?”

“You tell me? Is it working?” The laugh dies in your lips when she tits her head in question.

Jenna misses the gulp you take because she was leaning closer, trying to find your eyes behind the dark-tinted glasses you had on.

“No…” You replied with a vacant tone.

Jenna steps back when the sun blinds her eye. “You’re no fun.”

“I don’t know what to tell you… you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else.”

“Speaking of everyone else, I’m surprised we’re not surrounded by your groupies.” Jenna eyes the group of people hovering not too far away.

You snicker, “They are not my groupies. I barely know those people but it happens at every music event. They flock over like geese. I let Link handle them.”

Jenna frowns, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“What?” You look down.

“That you can’t even enjoy yourself at a festival without someone hovering over your shoulder.”

Since Jenna’s started this PR relationship with you her fame’s only increased overnight. She hates to say it but Sarah was right, being associated with you has only made her more famous and well-known. She felt like a Kardashian or Tom Holland who couldn’t even step out of their own homes without a camera being shoved in their faces.

It’s getting so bad that Jenna has security with her everywhere she goes. She stopped driving herself to places. A headline even dropped that you two are official and serious now and that you have met her family; paparazzi tried to camp at her parent’s house until they called the police.

“Sometimes.” You answer honestly, shrugging. “But it’s part of the job.”

Jenna’s frown deepens, looking around. “This is not part of the job. At least not what I’ve seen.”

“Yeah, but we learn to deal with it, right?” You nudge her shoulder. Seemingly unbothered that made Jenna bothered for you.

“How?” Jenna couldn’t help her curiosity.

“Surround yourself with people that genuinely care about you. That still picks you even after all your fuck ups. Only got me about three of those, so I try to keep them close.” Then you let out a sad laugh, “I make it very hard for them sometimes, though.”

Jenna looks at Link as he holds a bored hand up when a girl tries to walk up to you. Then he’s shooing her away and whispering to both of your security guards.

She wants to fight the urge to say that you have a fourth person in your corner with her.

Instead, she says:

“I think you got a good one with him.” She nods to Link.

You follow her sight, “Yeah, I do... He’s usually right about most things too.”

“What do you mean?” She looks up in questioning.

Maybe Jenna’s not so bad? Flashes in your memory but you don’t tell Jenna. “Nothing.”

Jenna squints her eyes. “Fine… keep your secrets.” Tone a playfully bitter.

Eventually, you, Jenna and her sisters walk around aimlessly from set to set, taking pictures and enjoying the atmosphere. Jenna would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying herself right now. Somehow you all managed to find an empty corner by the Artist section of the performances which meant you had loosened up a bit.

Jenna decided she liked it when you’re smiling, carefree and happy.

It suits you better than your permanent scowl.

You’ve been so stressed this last week, taking phone calls and Zoom meetings. She tried not to express her concern at seeing how you obsessively fretted over some project, consuming you some nights.

Jenna knows obsessive. She knows anxiety. This was different.

She finds herself with more questions than answers when it comes to you.

Why are you so closed off all the time? Is this how you work all the time? Where did this recent streak of bad behaviour start? Is there more to it than what you’re saying?

Are you okay?

But Jenna can’t find the right words to ask, so she doesn’t.

Only offering her warm pressure on top of you to hopefully lull you to sleep when you both drift off in her childhood bed.

Somewhere along the evening, she finds herself close to you.

You've loosened up as the days progressed and somehow, you and Jenna have found yourselves wrapped up in each other's arms as you danced.

Jenna had her back pressed firmly against your chest; her head tucked under your chin as your arms wrap around her waist from behind; hands linked as you jammed along to the music.

“The Met Gala’s coming up.” Jenna speaks up after a few moments of silence. “I’m invited.”

“Me too.” You reveal. She perks up, looking back at you.

“Yeah?” She smiles, pleased with your answer.

“Mhmm. I’m actually a co-chair this year.” You send an embarrassed smile.

She turns in your hold, jaw-dropping. “You are?”

“Yeah… why do you think I’ve been taking those calls all week? I was getting ready for the Met.”

“I thought that was for Coachella?” She snorts but can't help but ask, "Do you ever stop working?"

“Says you. Miss Scream Queen.” You tease making her roll her eyes.

“Be my date.” She says all of a sudden. “and walk the carpet with me this time.”

You raise your brows at her bluntness. This time?

You remember the last time she said those words and a tiny part of you prayed she meant it differently this time. But you can't fight your smile because you couldn't even say no if you wanted to — overwhelmed with the sudden want, to show off the girl in your arms. “I would love to be your date.”

Jenna's eyes sparkled with delight, beaming at you widely.

"Great! I'll talk to Enrique and Thom Browne about it."

"But I'm a Prada Ambassador?"

"I'll handle it." She nods with finality.

But before you can say anything, Link slides in with a whisper in your ear and a knowing smirk in Jenna’s direction.

“Hey, I have to go.” You whisper into her ear, pulling away but Jenna tightens her grip.

“Wait.” She steps forward – much closer than she means to.

“Yeah?” You asked softly and suddenly Jenna can’t hear the loud thumping of the bass anymore.

“Good luck and break a leg.” She says in a whisper.

Her hand reaches up to brush your neck still looking into your eyes. Jenna feels the same overwhelming pressure in her chest that she’s recently felt around you and gives into her sudden impulse; leaning in, parting her lips; meaning for them to connect to your cheek but instead swerve and slot in between your lips instead, in a moment’s haste.

She feels you tense for a moment before giving in, cupping her cheeks too. Kissing her back. Jenna loses it a bit, not expecting your lips to feel so soft and smooth and perfect against hers. Jenna can't help but tilt her head to the side, allowing your lips to press harder.

She feels the same electricity from your first meeting – when you shook her hand. The same electricity she tries to fight off every time she's near you. Except this time, it's by tenfold.

Jenna is so lost in you that she can’t even hear her heart beating loudly in her ears anymore — only feeling your thumb softly stroking her jaw.

The sound of coughing breaks you two apart.

“Sorry but Y/N we need to go.” Link sends a sheepish smile but he's trying to fight his grin at having a front-row seat to the show.

When Jenna pulls away she looks deeply into your eyes searching for some kind of indication of your feelings.

You smile shyly, squeezing her waist and rubbing her back. “I’ll find you after the show?”

“Yeah…” Jenna whispers, still staring into your eyes.

“I’ll find you!” You yell over her shoulder as Link drags you away.

“Holy shit, finally!” Mia slides in beside her.

Jenna doesn’t have the energy to shrug off the arm Aliyah throws over her shoulder as she brings her fingers up to her burning lips. “I don't know why I did that...”

“Oh my god, you’re an idiot. The both of you.” Mia rolls her eyes walking back to her boyfriend.

Jenna looks around, blinking, immediately catching the phones held in the air capturing her moment with you.

She walks off, following her sisters.

Unbeknownst to you and Jenna, a headline is about to drop:

New developments in Y/N L/N's Vegas case. Caught with cocaine! Las Vegas PD makes no official comments on possible charges or arrests. But is this the end for the bright star?

The strip club and vaccine bit with Colin and Che is from a real line in one of their segments LOL.

yall happy now?

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#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #wednesday netflix

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