#dating in LA continues to be uniquely terrible

[321sluggie]

Woooo I went on a date with someone who couldn’t stop talking about his high school student’s “mental age” and how he wanted more contact with her, but he is SCARED of the LAW

[mostlysignssomeportents]

With Great Power Came No Responsibility

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in NYC TONIGHT (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN and at PENN STATE TOMORROW (Feb 27). More tour dates here. Mail-order signed copies from LA's Diesel Books.

Last night, I traveled to Toronto to deliver the annual Ursula Franklin Lecture at the University of Toronto's Innis College:

The lecture was called "With Great Power Came No Responsibility: How Enshittification Conquered the 21st Century and How We Can Overthrow It." It's the latest major speech in my series of talks on the subject, which started with last year's McLuhan Lecture in Berlin:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/30/go-nuts-meine-kerle/#ich-bin-ein-bratapfel

And continued with a summer Defcon keynote:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/17/hack-the-planet/#how-about-a-nice-game-of-chess

This speech specifically addresses the unique opportunities for disenshittification created by Trump's rapid unscheduled midair disassembly of the international free trade system. The US used trade deals to force nearly every country in the world to adopt the IP laws that make enshittification possible, and maybe even inevitable. As Trump burns these trade deals to the ground, the rest of the world has an unprecedented opportunity to retaliate against American bullying by getting rid of these laws and producing the tools, devices and services that can protect every tech user (including Americans) from being ripped off by US Big Tech companies.

I'm so grateful for the chance to give this talk. I was hosted for the day by the Centre for Culture and Technology, which was founded by Marshall McLuhan, and is housed in the coach house he used for his office. The talk itself took place in Innis College, named for Harold Innis, who is definitely the thinking person's Marshall McLuhan. What's more, I was mentored by Innis's daughter, Anne Innis Dagg, a radical, brilliant feminist biologist who pretty much invented the field of giraffology:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/02/19/pluralist-19-feb-2020/#annedagg

But with all respect due to Anne and her dad, Ursula Franklin is the thinking person's Harold Innis. A brilliant scientist, activist and communicator who dedicated her life to the idea that the most important fact about a technology wasn't what it did, but who it did it for and who it did it to. Getting to work out of McLuhan's office to present a talk in Innis's theater that was named after Franklin? Swoon!

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

Here's the text of the talk, lightly edited:

I know tonight’s talk is supposed to be about decaying tech platforms, but I want to start by talking about nurses.

A January 2025 report from Groundwork Collective documents how increasingly nurses in the USA are hired through gig apps – "Uber for nurses” – so nurses never know from one day to the next whether they're going to work, or how much they'll get paid.

There's something high-tech going on here with those nurses' wages. These nursing apps – a cartel of three companies, Shiftkey, Shiftmed and Carerev – can play all kinds of games with labor pricing.

Before Shiftkey offers a nurse a shift, it purchases that worker's credit history from a data-broker. Specifically, it pays to find out how much credit-card debt the nurse is carrying, and whether it is overdue.

The more desperate the nurse's financial straits are, the lower the wage on offer. Because the more desperate you are, the less you'll accept to come and do the gruntwork of caring for the sick, the elderly, and the dying.

Now, there are lots of things going on here, and they're all terrible. What's more, they are emblematic of “enshittification,” the word I coined to describe the decay of online platforms.

When I first started writing about this, I focused on the external symptology of enshittification, a three stage process:

First, the platform is good to its end users, while finding a way to lock them in.

Like Google, which minimized ads and maximized spending on engineering for search results, even as they bought their way to dominance, bribing every service or product with a search box to make it a Google search box.

So no matter what browser you used, what mobile OS you used, what carrier you had, you would always be searching on Google by default. This got so batshit that by the early 2020s, Google was spending enough money to buy a whole-ass Twitter, every year or two, just to make sure that no one ever tried a search engine that wasn't Google.

That's stage one: be good to end users, lock in end users.

Stage two is when the platform starts to abuse end users to tempt in and enrich business customers. For Google, that’s advertisers and web publishers. An ever-larger fraction of a Google results page is given over to ads, which are marked with ever-subtler, ever smaller, ever grayer labels. Google uses its commercial surveillance data to target ads to us.

So that's stage two: things get worse for end users and get better for business customers.

But those business customers also get locked into the platform, dependent on those customers. Once businesses are getting as little as 10% of their revenue from Google, leaving Google becomes an existential risk. We talk a lot about Google's "monopoly" power, which is derived from its dominance as a seller. But Google is also a monopsony, a powerful buyer.

So now you have Google acting as a monopolist to its users (stage one), and a monoposonist for its business customers (stage two) and here comes stage three: where Google claws back all the value in the platform, save a homeopathic residue calculated to keep end users locked in, and business customers locked to those end users.

Google becomes enshittified.

In 2019, Google had a turning point. Search had grown as much as it possibly could. More than 90% of us used Google for search, and we searched for everything. Any thought or idle question that crossed our minds, we typed into Google.

How could Google grow? There were no more users left to switch to Google. We weren't going to search for more things. What could Google do?

Well, thanks to internal memos published during last year's monopoly trial against Google, we know what they did. They made search worse. They reduced the system's accuracy it so you had to search twice or more to get to the answer, thus doubling the number of queries, and doubling the number of ads.

Meanwhile, Google entered into a secret, illegal collusive arrangement with Facebook, codenamed Jedi Blue, to rig the ad market, fixing prices so advertisers paid more and publishers got less.

And that's how we get to the enshittified Google of today, where every query serves back a blob of AI slop, over five paid results tagged with the word AD in 8-point, 10% grey on white type, which is, in turn, over ten spammy links from SEO shovelware sites filled with more AI slop.

And yet, we still keep using Google, because we're locked into it. That's enshittification, from the outside. A company that's good to end users, while locking them in. Then it makes things worse for end users, to make things better for business customers, while locking them in. Then it takes all the value for itself and turns into a giant pile of shit.

Enshittification, a tragedy in three acts.

I started off focused on the outward signs of enshittification, but I think it's time we start thinking about what's going in inside the companies to make enshittification possible.

What is the technical mechanism for enshittification? I call it twiddling. Digital businesses have infinite flexibility, bequeathed to them by the marvellously flexible digital computers they run on. That means that firms can twiddle the knobs that control the fundamental aspects of their business. Every time you interact with a firm, everything is different: prices, costs, search rankings, recommendations.

Which takes me back to our nurses. This scam, where you look up the nurse's debt load and titer down the wage you offer based on it in realtime? That's twiddling. It's something you can only do with a computer. The bosses who are doing this aren't more evil than bosses of yore, they just have better tools.

Note that these aren't even tech bosses. These are health-care bosses, who happen to have tech.

Digitalization – weaving networked computers through a firm or a sector – enables this kind of twiddling that allows firms to shift value around, from end users to business customers, from business customers back to end users, and eventually, inevitably, to themselves.

And digitalization is coming to every sector – like nursing. Which means enshittification is coming to every sector – like nursing.

The legal scholar Veena Dubal coined a term to describe the twiddling that suppresses the wages of debt-burdened nurses. It's called "Algorithmic Wage Discrimination," and it follows the gig economy.

The gig economy is a major locus of enshittification, and it’s the largest tear in the membrane separating the virtual world from the real world. Gig work, where your shitty boss is a shitty app, and you aren't even allowed to call yourself an employee.

Uber invented this trick. Drivers who are picky about the jobs the app puts in front of them start to get higher wage offers. But if they yield to temptation and take some of those higher-waged option, then the wage starts to go down again, in random intervals, by small increments, designed to be below the threshold for human perception. Not so much boiling the frog as poaching it, until the Uber driver has gone into debt to buy a new car, and given up the side hustles that let them be picky about the rides they accepted. Then their wage goes down, and down, and down.

Twiddling is a crude trick done quickly. Any task that's simple but time consuming is a prime candidate for automation, and this kind of wage-theft would be unbearably tedious, labor-intensive and expensive to perform manually. No 19th century warehouse full of guys with green eyeshades slaving over ledgers could do this. You need digitalization.

Twiddling nurses' hourly wages is a perfect example of the role digitization pays in enshittification. Because this kind of thing isn't just bad for nurses – it's bad for patients, too. Do we really think that paying nurses based on how desperate they are, at a rate calculated to increase that desperation, and thus decrease the wage they are likely to work for, is going to result in nurses delivering the best care?

Do you want to your catheter inserted by a nurse on food stamps, who drove an Uber until midnight the night before, and skipped breakfast this morning in order to make rent?

This is why it’s so foolish to say "If you're not paying for the product, you're the product." “If you’re not paying for the product” ascribes a mystical power to advertising-driven services: the power to bypass our critical faculties by surveilling us, and data-mining the resulting dossiers to locate our mental bind-spots, and weaponize them to get us to buy anything an advertiser is selling.

In this formulation, we are complicit in our own exploitation. By choosing to use "free" services, we invite our own exploitation by surveillance capitalists who have perfected a mind-control ray powered by the surveillance data we're voluntarily handing over by choosing ad-driven services.

The moral is that if we only went back to paying for things, instead of unrealistically demanding that everything be free, we would restore capitalism to its functional, non-surveillant state, and companies would start treating us better, because we'd be the customers, not the products.

That's why the surveillance capitalism hypothesis elevates companies like Apple as virtuous alternatives. Because Apple charges us money, rather than attention, it can focus on giving us better service, rather than exploiting us.

There's a superficially plausible logic to this. After all, in 2022, Apple updated its iOS operating system, which runs on iPhones and other mobile devices, introducing a tick box that allowed you to opt out of third-party surveillance, most notably Facebook’s.

96% of Apple customers ticked that box. The other 4% were, presumably drunk, or Facebook employees, or Facebook employees who were drunk. Which makes sense, because if I worked for Facebook, I'd be drunk all the time.

So on the face of it, it seems like Apple isn't treating its customers like "the product." But simultaneously with this privacy measure, Apple was secretly turning on its own surveillance system for iPhone owners, which would spy on them in exactly the way Facebook had, for exactly the same purpose: to target ads to you based on the places you'd been, the things you'd searched for, the communications you'd had, the links you'd clicked.

Apple didn't ask its customers for permission to spy on them. It didn't let opt out of this spying. It didn’t even tell them about it, and when it was caught, Apple lied about it.

It goes without saying that the $1000 Apple distraction rectangle in your pocket is something you paid for. The fact that you've paid for it doesn't stop Apple from treating you as the product. Apple treats its business customers – app vendors – like the product, screwing them out of 30 cents on every dollar they bring in, with mandatory payment processing fees that are 1,000% higher than the already extortionate industry norm.

Apple treats its end users – people who shell out a grand for a phone – like the product, spying on them to help target ads to them.

Apple treats everyone like the product.

This is what's going on with our gig-app nurses: the nurses are the product. The patients are the product. The hospitals are the product. In enshittification, "the product" is anyone who can be productized.

Fair and dignified treatment is not something you get as a customer loyalty perk, in exchange for parting with your money, rather than your attention. How do you get fair and dignified treatment? Well, I'm gonna get to that, but let's stay with our nurses for a while first.

The nurses are the product, and they're being twiddled, because they've been conscripted into the tech industry, via the digitalization of their own industry.

It's tempting to blame digitalization for this. But tech companies were not born enshittified. They spent years – decades – making pleasing products. If you're old enough to remember the launch of Google, you'll recall that, at the outset, Google was magic.

You could Ask Jeeves questions for a million years, you could load up Altavista with ten trillion boolean search operators meant to screen out low-grade results, and never come up with answers as crisp, as useful, as helpful, as the ones you'd get from a few vaguely descriptive words in a Google search-bar.

There's a reason we all switched to Google. Why so many of us bought iPhones. Why we joined our friends on Facebook. All of these services were born digital. They could have enshittified at any time. But they didn't – until they did. And they did it all at once.

If you were a nurse, and every patient that staggered into the ER had the same dreadful symptoms, you'd call the public health department and report a suspected outbreak of a new and dangerous epidemic.

Ursula Franklin held that technology's outcomes were not preordained. They are the result of deliberate choices. I like that very much, it's a very science fictional way of thinking about technology. Good science fiction isn't merely about what the technology does, but who it does it for, and who it does it to.

Those social factors are far more important than the mere technical specifications of a gadget. They're the difference between a system that warns you when you're about to drift out of your lane, and a system that tells your insurer that you nearly drifted out of your lane, so they can add $10 to your monthly premium.

They’re the difference between a spell checker that lets you know you've made a typo, and bossware that lets your manager use the number of typos you made this quarter so he can deny your bonus.

They’re the difference between an app that remembers where you parked your car, and an app that uses the location of your car as a criteria for including you in a reverse warrant for the identities of everyone in the vicinity of an anti-government protest.

I believe that enshittification is caused by changes not to technology, but to the policy environment. These are changes to the rules of the game, undertaken in living memory, by named parties, who were warned at the time about the likely outcomes of their actions, who are today very rich and respected, and face no consequences or accountability for their role in ushering in the enshittocene. They venture out into polite society without ever once wondering if someone is sizing them up for a pitchfork.

In other words: I think we created a crimogenic environment, a perfect breeding pool for the most pathogenic practices in our society, that have therefore multiplied, dominating decision-making in our firms and states, leading to a vast enshittening of everything.

And I think there's good news there, because if enshittification isn't the result a new kind of evil person, or the great forces of history bearing down on the moment to turn everything to shit, but rather the result of specific policy choices, then we can reverse those policies, make better ones and emerge from the enshittocene, consigning the enshitternet to the scrapheap of history, a mere transitional state between the old, good internet, and a new, good internet.

I'm not going to talk about AI today, because oh my god is AI a boring, overhyped subject. But I will use a metaphor about AI, about the limited liability company, which is a kind of immortal, artificial colony organism in which human beings serve as a kind of gut flora. My colleague Charlie Stross calls corporations "slow AI.”

So you've got these slow AIs whose guts are teeming with people, and the AI's imperative, the paperclip it wants to maximize, is profit. To maximize profits, you charge as much as you can, you pay your workers and suppliers as little as you can, you spend as little as possible on safety and quality.

Every dollar you don't spend on suppliers, workers, quality or safety is a dollar that can go to executives and shareholders. So there's a simple model of the corporation that could maximize its profits by charging infinity dollars, while paying nothing to its workers or suppliers, and ignoring quality and safety.

But that corporation wouldn't make any money, for the obvious reasons that none of us would buy what it was selling, and no one would work for it or supply it with goods. These constraints act as disciplining forces that tamp down the AI's impulse to charge infinity and pay nothing.

In tech, we have four of these constraints, anti-enshittificatory sources of discipline that make products and services better, pay workers more, and keep executives’ and shareholders' wealth from growing at the expense of customers, suppliers and labor.

The first of these constraints is markets. All other things being equal, a business that charges more and delivers less will lose customers to firms that are more generous about sharing value with workers, customers and suppliers.

This is the bedrock of capitalist theory, and it's the ideological basis for competition law, what our American cousins call "antitrust law."

The first antitrust law was 1890's Sherman Act, whose sponsor, Senator John Sherman, stumped for it from the senate floor, saying:

If we will not endure a King as a political power we should not endure a King over the production, transportation, and sale of the necessaries of life. If we would not submit to an emperor we should not submit to an autocrat of trade with power to prevent competition and to fix the price of any commodity. 

Senator Sherman was reflecting the outrage of the anitmonopolist movement of the day, when proprietors of monopolistic firms assumed the role of dictators, with the power to decide who would work, who would starve, what could be sold, and what it cost.

Lacking competitors, they were too big to fail, too big to jail, and too big to care. As Lily Tomlin used to put it in her spoof AT&T ads on SNL: "We don't care. We don't have to. We're the phone company.”

So what happened to the disciplining force of competition? We killed it. Starting 40-some years ago, the Reagaonomic views of the Chicago School economists transformed antitrust. They threw out John Sherman's idea that we need to keep companies competitive to prevent the emergence of "autocrats of trade,"and installed the idea that monopolies are efficient.

In other words, if Google has a 90% search market share, which it does, then we must infer that Google is the best search engine ever, and the best search engine possible. The only reason a better search engine hasn't stepped in is that Google is so skilled, so efficient, that there is no conceivable way to improve upon it.

We can tell that Google is the best because it has a monopoly, and we can tell that the monopoly is good because Google is the best.

So 40 years ago, the US – and its major trading partners – adopted an explicitly pro-monopoly competition policy.

Now, you'll be glad to hear that this isn't what happened to Canada. The US Trade Rep didn't come here and force us to neuter our competition laws. But don't get smug! The reason that didn't happen is that it didn't have to. Because Canada had no competition law to speak of, and never has.

In its entire history, the Competition Bureau has challenged three mergers, and it has halted precisely zero mergers, which is how we've ended up with a country that is beholden to the most mediocre plutocrats imaginable like the Irvings, the Westons, the Stronachs, the McCains and the Rogerses.

The only reason these chinless wonders were able to conquer this country Is that the Americans had been crushing their monopolists before they could conquer the US and move on to us. But 40 years ago, the rest of the world adopted the Chicago School's pro-monopoly "consumer welfare standard,” and we got…monopolies.

Monopolies in pharma, beer, glass bottles, vitamin C, athletic shoes, microchips, cars, mattresses, eyeglasses, and, of course, professional wrestling.

Remember: these are specific policies adopted in living memory, by named individuals, who were warned, and got rich, and never faced consequences. The economists who conceived of these policies are still around today, polishing their fake Nobel prizes, teaching at elite schools, making millions consulting for blue-chip firms.

When we confront them with the wreckage their policies created, they protest their innocence, maintaining – with a straight face – that there's no way to affirmatively connect pro-monopoly policies with the rise of monopolies.

It's like we used to put down rat poison and we didn't have a rat problem. Then these guys made us stop, and now rats are chewing our faces off, and they're making wide innocent eyes, saying, "How can you be sure that our anti-rat-poison policies are connected to global rat conquest? Maybe this is simply the Time of the Rat! Maybe sunspots caused rats to become more fecund than at any time in history! And if they bought the rat poison factories and shut them all down, well, so what of it? Shutting down rat poison factories after you've decided to stop putting down rat poison is an economically rational, Pareto-optimal decision."

Markets don't discipline tech companies because they don't compete with rivals, they buy them. That's a quote, from Mark Zuckerberg: “It is better to buy than to compete.”

Which is why Mark Zuckerberg bought Instagram for a billion dollars, even though it only had 12 employees and 25m users. As he wrote in a spectacularly ill-advised middle-of-the-night email to his CFO, he had to buy Instagram, because Facebook users were leaving Facebook for Instagram. By buying Instagram, Zuck ensured that anyone who left Facebook – the platform – would still be a prisoner of Facebook – the company.

Despite the fact that Zuckerberg put this confession in writing, the Obama administration let him go ahead with the merger, because every government, of every political stripe, for 40 years, adopted the posture that monopolies were efficient.

Now, think about our twiddled, immiserated nurses. Hospitals are among the most consolidated sectors in the US. First, we deregulated pharma mergers, and the pharma companies gobbled each other up at the rate of naughts, and they jacked up the price of drugs. So hospitals also merged to monopoly, a defensive maneuver that let a single hospital chain corner the majority of a region or city and say to the pharma companies, "either you make your products cheaper, or you can't sell them to any of our hospitals."

Of course, once this mission was accomplished, the hospitals started screwing the insurers, who staged their own incestuous orgy, buying and merging until most Americans have just three or two insurance options. This let the insurers fight back against the hospitals, but left patients and health care workers defenseless against the consolidated power of hospitals, pharma companies, pharmacy benefit managers, group purchasing organizations, and other health industry cartels, duopolies and monopolies.

Which is why nurses end up signing on to work for hospitals that use these ghastly apps. Remember, there's just three of these apps, replacing dozens of staffing agencies that once competed for nurses' labor.

Meanwhile, on the patient side, competition has never exercised discipline. No one ever shopped around for a cheaper ambulance or a better ER while they were having a heart attack. The price that people are willing to pay to not die is “everything they have.”

So you have this sector that has no business being a commercial enterprise in the first place, losing what little discipline they faced from competition, paving the way for enshittification.

But I said there are four forces that discipline companies. The second one of these forces is regulation, discipline imposed by states.

It’s a mistake to see market discipline and state discipline as two isolated realms. They are intimately connected. Because competition is a necessary condition for effective regulation.

Let me put this in terms that even the most ideological libertarians can understand. Say you think there should be precisely one regulation that governments should enforce: honoring contracts. For the government to serve as referee in that game, it must have the power to compel the players to honor their contracts. Which means that the smallest government you can have is determined by the largest corporation you're willing to permit.

So even if you're the kind of Musk-addled libertarian who can no longer open your copy of Atlas Shrugged because the pages are all stuck together, who pines for markets for human kidneys, and demands the right to sell yourself into slavery, you should still want a robust antitrust regime, so that these contracts can be enforced.

When a sector cartelizes, when it collapses into oligarchy, when the internet turns into "five giant websites, each filled with screenshots of the other four," then it captures its regulators.

After all, a sector with 100 competing companies is a rabble, at each others' throats. They can't agree on anything, especially how they're going to lobby.

While a sector of five companies – or four – or three – or two – or one – is a cartel, a racket, a conspiracy in waiting. A sector that has been boiled down to a mere handful of firms can agree on a common lobbying position.

What's more, they are so insulated from "wasteful competition" that they are aslosh in cash that they can mobilize to make their regulatory preferences into regulations. In other words, they can capture their regulators.

“Regulatory capture" may sound abstract and complicated, so let me put it in concrete terms. In the UK, the antitrust regulator is called the Competition and Markets Authority, run – until recently – by Marcus Bokkerink. The CMA has been one of the world's most effective investigators and regulators of Big Tech fuckery.

Last month, UK PM Keir Starmer fired Bokkerink and replaced him with Doug Gurr, the former head of Amazon UK. Hey, Starmer, the henhouse is on the line, they want their fox back.

But back to our nurses: there are plenty of examples of regulatory capture lurking in that example, but I'm going to pick the most egregious one, the fact that there are data brokers who will sell you information about the credit card debts of random Americans.

This is because the US Congress hasn't passed a new consumer privacy law since 1988, when Ronald Reagan signed a law called the Video Privacy Protection Act that bans video store clerks from telling newspapers which VHS cassettes you took home. The fact that Congress hasn't updated Americans' privacy protections since Die Hard was in theaters isn't a coincidence or an oversight. It is the expensively purchased inaction of a heavily concentrated – and thus wildly profitable – privacy-invasion industry that has monetized the abuse of human rights at unimaginable scale.

The coalition in favor of keeping privacy law frozen since the season finale of St Elsewhere keeps growing, because there is an unbounded set of way to transform the systematic invasion of our human rights into cash. There's a direct line from this phenomenon to nurses whose paychecks go down when they can't pay their credit-card bills.

So competition is dead, regulation is dead, and companies aren't disciplined by markets or by states.

But there are four forces that discipline firms, contributing to an inhospitable environment for the reproduction of sociopathic. enshittifying monsters.

So let's talk about those other two forces. The first is interoperability, the principle of two or more things working together. Like, you can put anyone's shoelaces in your shoes, anyone's gas in your gas tank, and anyone's lightbulbs in your light-socket. In the non-digital world, interop takes a lot of work, you have to agree on the direction, pitch, diameter, voltage, amperage and wattage for that light socket, or someone's gonna get their hand blown off.

But in the digital world, interop is built in, because there's only one kind of computer we know how to make, the Turing-complete, universal, von Neumann machine, a computing machine capable of executing every valid program.

Which means that for any enshittifying program, there's a counterenshittificatory program waiting to be run. When HP writes a program to ensure that its printers reject third-party ink, someone else can write a program to disable that checking.

For gig workers, antienshittificatory apps can do yeoman duty. For example, Indonesian gig drivers formed co-ops, that commission hackers to write modifications for their dispatch apps. For example, the taxi app won't book a driver to pick someone up at a train station, unless they're right outside, but when the big trains pull in that's a nightmare scene of total, lethal chaos.

So drivers have an app that lets them spoof their GPS, which lets them park up around the corner, but have the app tell their bosses that they're right out front of the station. When a fare arrives, they can zip around and pick them up, without contributing to the stationside mishegas.

In the USA, a company called Para shipped an app to help Doordash drivers get paid more. You see, Doordash drivers make most of their money on tips, and the Doordash driver app hides the tip amount until you accept a job, meaning you don't know whether you're accepting a job that pays $1.50 or $11.50 with tip, until you agree to take it. So Para made an app that extracted the tip amount and showed it to drivers before they clocked on.

But Doordash shut it down, because in America, apps like Para are illegal. In 1998, Bill Clinton signed a law called the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, and section 1201 of the DMCA makes is a felony to "bypass an access control for a copyrighted work," with penalties of $500k and a 5-year prison sentence for a first offense. So just the act of reverse-engineering an app like the Doordash app is a potential felony, which is why companies are so desperately horny to get you to use their apps rather than their websites.

The web is open, apps are closed. The majority of web users have installed an ad blocker (which is also a privacy blocker). But no one installs an ad blocker for an app, because it's a felony to distribute that tool, because you have to reverse-engineer the app to make it. An app is just a website wrapped in enough IP so that the company that made it can send you to prison if you dare to modify it so that it serves your interests rather than theirs.

Around the world, we have enacted a thicket of laws, we call “IP laws,” that make it illegal to modify services, products, and devices, so that they serve your interests, rather than the interests of the shareholders.

Like I said, these laws were enacted in living memory, by people who are among us, who were warned about the obvious, eminently foreseeable consequences of their reckless plans, who did it anyway.

Back in 2010, two ministers from Stephen Harper's government decided to copy-paste America's Digital Millennium Copyright Act into Canadian law. They consulted on the proposal to make it illegal to reverse engineer and modify services, products and devices, and they got an earful! 6,138 Canadians sent in negative comments on the consultation. They warned that making it illegal to bypass digital locks would interfere with repair of devices as diverse as tractors, cars, and medical equipment, from ventilators to insulin pumps.

These Canadians warned that laws banning tampering with digital locks would let American tech giants corner digital markets, forcing us to buy our apps and games from American app stores, that could cream off any commission they chose to levy. They warned that these laws were a gift to monopolists who wanted to jack up the price of ink; that these copyright laws, far from serving Canadian artists would lock us to American platforms. Because every time someone in our audience bought a book, a song, a game, a video, that was locked to an American app, it could never be unlocked.

So if we, the creative workers of Canada, tried to migrate to a Canadian store, our audience couldn't come with us. They couldn't move their purchases from the US app to a Canadian one.

6,138 Canadians told them this, while just 54 respondents sided with Heritage Minister James Moore and Industry Minister Tony Clement. Then, James Moore gave a speech, at the International Chamber of Commerce meeting here in Toronto, where he said he would only be listening to the 54 cranks who supported his terrible ideas, on the grounds that the 6,138 people who disagreed with him were "babyish…radical extremists."

So in 2012, we copied America's terrible digital locks law into the Canadian statute book, and now we live in James Moore and Tony Clement's world, where it is illegal to tamper with a digital lock. So if a company puts a digital lock on its product they can do anything behind that lock, and it's a crime to undo it.

For example, if HP puts a digital lock on its printers that verifies that you're not using third party ink cartridges, or refilling an HP cartridge, it's a crime to bypass that lock and use third party ink. Which is how HP has gotten away with ratcheting the price of ink up, and up, and up.

Printer ink is now the most expensive fluid that a civilian can purchase without a special permit. It's colored water that costs $10k/gallon, which means that you print out your grocery lists with liquid that costs more than the semen of a Kentucky Derby-winning stallion.

That's the world we got from Clement and Moore, in living memory, after they were warned, and did it anyway. The world where farmers can't fix their tractors, where independent mechanics can't fix your car, where hospitals during the pandemic lockdowns couldn't service their failing ventilators, where every time a Canadian iPhone user buys an app from a Canadian software author, every dollar they spend takes a round trip through Apple HQ in Cupertino, California and comes back 30 cents lighter.

Let me remind you this is the world where a nurse can't get a counter-app, a plug-in, for the “Uber for nurses” app they have to use to get work, that lets them coordinate with other nurses to refuse shifts until the wages on offer rise to a common level or to block surveillance of their movements and activity.

Interoperability was a major disciplining force on tech firms. After all, if you make the ads on your website sufficiently obnoxious, some fraction of your users will install an ad-blocker, and you will never earn another penny from them. Because no one in the history of ad-blockers has ever uninstalled an ad-blocker. But once it's illegal to make an ad-blocker, there's no reason not to make the ads as disgusting, invasive, obnoxious as you can, to shift all the value from the end user to shareholders and executives.

So we get monopolies and monopolies capture their regulators, and they can ignore the laws they don't like, and prevent laws that might interfere with their predatory conduct – like privacy laws – from being passed. They get new laws passed, laws that let them wield governmental power to prevent other companies from entering the market.

So three of the four forces are neutralized: competition, regulation, and interoperability. That left just one disciplining force holding enshittification at bay: labor.

Tech workers are a strange sort of workforce, because they have historically been very powerful, able to command high wages and respect, but they did it without joining unions. Union density in tech is abysmal, almost undetectable. Tech workers' power didn't come from solidarity, it came from scarcity. There weren't enough workers to fill the jobs going begging, and tech workers are unfathomnably productive. Even with the sky-high salaries tech workers commanded, every hour of labor they put in generated far more value for their employers.

Faced with a tight labor market, and the ability to turn every hour of tech worker overtime into gold, tech bosses pulled out all the stops to motivate that workforce. They appealed to workers' sense of mission, convinced them they were holy warriors, ushering in a new digital age. Google promised them they would "organize the world's information and make it useful.” Facebook promised them they would “make the world more open and connected."

There's a name for this tactic: the librarian Fobazi Ettarh calls it "vocational awe." That’s where an appeal to a sense of mission and pride is used to motivate workers to work for longer hours and worse pay.

There are all kinds of professions that run on vocational awe: teaching, daycares and eldercare, and, of course, nursing.

Techies are different from those other workers though, because they've historically been incredibly scarce, which meant that while bosses could motivate them to work on projects they believed in, for endless hours, the minute bosses ordered them to enshittify the projects they'd missed their mothers' funerals to ship on deadline these workers would tell their bosses to fuck off.

If their bosses persisted in these demands, the techies would walk off the job, cross the street, and get a better job the same day.

So for many years, tech workers were the fourth and final constraint, holding the line after the constraints of competition, regulation and interop slipped away. But then came the mass tech layoffs. 260,000 in 2023; 150,000 in 2024; tens of thousands this year, with Facebook planning a 5% headcount massacre while doubling its executive bonuses.

Tech workers can't tell their bosses to go fuck themselves anymore, because there's ten other workers waiting to take their jobs.

Now, I promised I wouldn't talk about AI, but I have to break that promise a little, just to point out that the reason tech bosses are so horny for AI Is because they think it'll let them fire tech workers and replace them with pliant chatbots who'll never tell them to fuck off.

So that's where enshittification comes from: multiple changes to the environment. The fourfold collapse of competition, regulation, interoperability and worker power creates an enshittogenic environment, where the greediest, most sociopathic elements in the body corporate thrive at the expense of those elements that act as moderators of their enshittificatory impulses.

We can try to cure these corporations. We can use antitrust law to break them up, fine them, force strictures upon them. But until we fix the environment, other the contagion will spread to other firms.

So let's talk about how we create a hostile environment for enshittifiers, so the population and importance of enshittifying agents in companies dwindles to 1990s levels. We won't get rid of these elements. So long as the profit motive is intact, there will be people whose pursuit of profit is pathological, unmoderated by shame or decency. But we can change the environment so that these don't dominate our lives.

Let's talk about antitrust. After 40 years of antitrust decline, this decade has seen a massive, global resurgence of antitrust vigor, one that comes in both left- and right-wing flavors.

Over the past four years, the Biden administration’s trustbusters at the Federal Trade Commission, Department of Justice and Consumer Finance Protection Bureau did more antitrust enforcement than all their predecessors for the past 40 years combined.

There's certainly factions of the Trump administration that are hostile to this agenda but Trump's antitrust enforcers at the DoJ and FTC now say that they'll preserve and enforce Biden's new merger guidelines, which stop companies from buying each other up, and they've already filed suit to block a giant tech merger.

Of course, last summer a judge found Google guilty of monopolization, and now they're facing a breakup, which explains why they've been so generous and friendly to the Trump administration.

Meanwhile, in Canada, our toothless Competition Bureau's got fitted for a set of titanium dentures last June, when Bill C59 passed Parliament, granting sweeping new powers to our antitrust regulator.

It's true that UK PM Keir Starmer just fired the head of the UK Competition and Markets Authority and replaced him with the ex-boss of Amazon UK boss.But the thing that makes that so tragic is that the UK CMA had been doing astonishingly great work under various conservative governments.

In the EU, they've passed the Digital Markets Act and the Digital Services Act, and they're going after Big Tech with both barrels. Other countries around the world – Australia, Germany, France, Japan, South Korea and China (yes, China!) – have passed new antitrust laws, and launched major antitrust enforcement actions, often collaborating with each other.

So you have the UK Competition and Markets Authority using its investigatory powers to research and publish a deep market study on Apple's abusive 30% app tax, and then the EU uses that report as a roadmap for fining Apple, and then banning Apple's payments monopoly under new regulations.Then South Korea and Japan trustbusters translate the EU's case and win nearly identical cases in their courts

What about regulatory capture? Well, we're starting to see regulators get smarter about reining in Big Tech. For example, the EU's Digital Markets Act and Digital Services Act were designed to bypass the national courts of EU member states, especially Ireland, the tax-haven where US tech companies pretend to have their EU headquarters.

The thing about tax havens is that they always turn into crime havens, because if Apple can pretend to be Irish this week, it can pretend to be Maltese or Cypriot or Luxembourgeois next week. So Ireland has to let US Big Tech companies ignore EU privacy laws and other regulations, or it'll lose them to sleazier, more biddable competitor nations.

So from now on, EU tech regulation is getting enforced in the EU's federal courts, not in national courts, treating the captured Irish courts as damage and routing around them.

Canada needs to strengthen its own tech regulation enforcement, unwinding monopolistic mergers from the likes of Bell and Rogers, but most of all, Canada needs to pursue an interoperability agenda.

Last year, Canada passed two very exciting bills: Bill C244, a national Right to Repair law; and Bill C294, an interoperability law. Nominally, both of these laws allow Canadians to fix everything from tractors to insulin pumps, and to modify the software in their devices from games consoles to printers, so they will work with third party app stores, consumables and add-ons.

However, these bills are essentially useless, because these bills don’t permit Canadians to acquire tools to break digital locks. So you can modify your printer to accept third party ink, or interpret a car's diagnostic codes so any mechanic can fix it, but only if there isn't a digital lock stopping you from doing so, because giving someone a tool to break a digital lock remains illegal thanks to the law that James Moore and Tony Clement shoved down the nation's throat in 2012.

And every single printer, smart speaker, car, tractor, appliance, medical implant and hospital medical device has a digital lock that stops you from fixing it, modifying it, or using third party parts, software, or consumables in it.

Which means that these two landmark laws on repair and interop are useless. So why not get rid of the 2012 law that bans breaking digital locks? Because these laws are part of our trade agreement with the USA. This is a law needed to maintain tariff-free access to US markets.

I don’t know if you've heard, but Donald Trump is going to impose a 25%, across-the-board tariff against Canadian exports. Trudeau's response is to impose retaliatory tariffs, which will make every American product that Canadians buy 25% more expensive. This is a very weird way to punish America!

You know what would be better? Abolish the Canadian laws that protect US Big Tech companies from Canadian competition. Make it legal to reverse-engineer, jailbreak and modify American technology products and services. Don't ask Facebook to pay a link tax to Canadian newspapers, make it legal to jailbreak all of Meta's apps and block all the ads in them, so Mark Zuckerberg doesn't make a dime off of us.

Make it legal for Canadian mechanics to jailbreak your Tesla and unlock every subscription feature, like autopilot and full access to your battery, for one price, forever. So you get more out of your car, and when you sell it, then next owner continues to enjoy those features, meaning they'll pay more for your used car.

That's how you hurt Elon Musk: not by being performatively appalled at his Nazi salutes. That doesn't cost him a dime. He loves the attention. No! Strike at the rent-extracting, insanely high-margin aftermarket subscriptions he relies on for his Swastikar business. Kick that guy right in the dongle!

Let Canadians stand up a Canadian app store for Apple devices, one that charges 3% to process transactions, not 30%. Then, every Canadian news outlet that sells subscriptions through an app, and every Canadian software author, musician and writer who sells through a mobile platform gets a 25% increase in revenues overnight, without signing up a single new customer.

But we can sign up new customers, by selling jailbreaking software and access to Canadian app stores, for every mobile device and games console to everyone in the world, and by pitching every games publisher and app maker on selling in the Canadian app store to customers anywhere without paying a 30% vig to American big tech companies.

We could sell every mechanic in the world a $100/month subscription to a universal diagnostic tool. Every farmer in the world could buy a kit that would let them fix their own John Deere tractors without paying a $200 callout charge for a Deere technician who inspects the repair the farmer is expected to perform.

They'd beat a path to our door. Canada could become a tech export powerhouse, while making everything cheaper for Canadian tech users, while making everything more profitable for anyone who sells media or software in an online store. And – this is the best part – it’s a frontal assault on the largest, most profitable US companies, the companies that are single-handedly keeping the S&P 500 in the black, striking directly at their most profitable lines of business, taking the revenues from those ripoff scams from hundreds of billions to zero, overnight, globally.

We don't have to stop at exporting reasonably priced pharmaceuticals to Americans! We could export the extremely lucrative tools of technological liberation to our American friends, too.

That's how you win a trade-war.

What about workers? Here we have good news and bad news.

The good news is that public approval for unions is at a high mark last seen in the early 1970s, and more workers want to join a union than at any time in generations, and unions themselves are sitting on record-breaking cash reserves they could be using to organize those workers.

But here's the bad news. The unions spent the Biden years, when they had the most favorable regulatory environment since the Carter administration, when public support for unions was at an all-time high, when more workers than ever wanted to join a union, when they had more money than ever to spend on unionizing those workers, doing fuck all. They allocatid mere pittances to union organizing efforts with the result that we finished the Biden years with fewer unionized workers than we started them with.

Then we got Trump, who illegally fired National Labor Relations Board member Gwynne Wilcox, leaving the NLRB without a quorum and thus unable to act on unfair labor practices or to certify union elections.

This is terrible. But it’s not game over. Trump fired the referees, and he thinks that this means the game has ended. But here's the thing: firing the referee doesn't end the game, it just means we're throwing out the rules. Trump thinks that labor law creates unions, but he's wrong. Unions are why we have labor law. Long before unions were legal, we had unions, who fought goons and ginks and company finks in` pitched battles in the streets.

That illegal solidarity resulted in the passage of labor law, which legalized unions. Labor law is passed because workers build power through solidarity. Law doesn't create that solidarity, it merely gives it a formal basis in law. Strip away that formal basis, and the worker power remains.

Worker power is the answer to vocational awe. After all, it's good for you and your fellow workers to feel a sense of mission about your jobs. If you feel that sense of mission, if you feel the duty to protect your users, your patients, your patrons, your students, a union lets you fulfill that duty.

We saw that in 2023 when Doug Ford promised to destroy the power of Ontario's public workers. Workers across the province rose up, promising a general strike, and Doug Ford folded like one of his cheap suits. Workers kicked the shit out of him, and we'll do it again. Promises made, promises kept.

The unscheduled midair disassembly of American labor law means that workers can have each others' backs again. Tech workers need other workers' help, because tech workers aren't scarce anymore, not after a half-million layoffs. Which means tech bosses aren't afraid of them anymore.

We know how tech bosses treat workers they aren't afraid of. Look at Jeff Bezos: the workers in his warehouses are injured on the job at 3 times the national rate, his delivery drivers have to pee in bottles, and they are monitored by AI cameras that snitch on them if their eyeballs aren't in the proscribed orientation or if their mouth is open too often while they drive, because policy forbids singing along to the radio.

By contrast, Amazon coders get to show up for work with pink mohawks, facial piercings, and black t-shirts that say things their bosses don't understand. They get to pee whenever they want. Jeff Bezos isn't sentimental about tech workers, nor does he harbor a particularized hatred of warehouse workers and delivery drivers. He treats his workers as terribly as he can get away with. That means that the pee bottles are coming for the coders, too.

It's not just Amazon, of course. Take Apple. Tim Cook was elevated to CEO in 2011. Apple's board chose him to succeed founder Steve Jobs because he is the guy who figured out how to shift Apple's production to contract manufacturers in China, without skimping on quality assurance, or suffering leaks of product specifications ahead of the company's legendary showy launches.

Today, Apple's products are made in a gigantic Foxconn factory in Zhengzhou nicknamed "iPhone City.” Indeed, these devices arrive in shipping containers at the Port of Los Angeles in a state of pristine perfection, manufactured to the finest tolerances, and free of any PR leaks.

To achieve this miraculous supply chain, all Tim Cook had to do was to make iPhone City a living hell, a place that is so horrific to work that they had to install suicide nets around the worker dorms to catch the plummeting bodies of workers who were so brutalized by Tim Cook's sweatshop that they attempted to take their own lives.

Tim Cook is also not sentimentally attached to tech workers, nor is he hostile to Chinese assembly line workers. He just treats his workers as badly as he can get away with, and with mass layoffs in the tech sector he can treat his coders much, much worse

How do tech workers get unions? Well, there are tech-specific organizations like Tech Solidarity and the Tech Workers Coalition. But tech workers will only get unions by having solidarity with other workers and receiving solidarity back from them. We all need to support every union. All workers need to have each other's backs.

We are entering a period of omnishambolic polycrisis.The ominous rumble of climate change, authoritarianism, genocide, xenophobia and transphobia has turned into an avalanche. The perpetrators of these crimes against humanity have weaponized the internet, colonizing the 21st century's digital nervous system, using it to attack its host, threatening civilization itself.

The enshitternet was purpose-built for this kind of apocalyptic co-option, organized around giant corporations who will trade a habitable planet and human rights for a three percent tax cut, who default us all into twiddle-friendly algorithmic feed, and block the interoperability that would let us escape their clutches with the backing of powerful governments whom they can call upon to "protect their IP rights."

It didn't have to be this way. The enshitternet was not inevitable. It was the product of specific policy choices, made in living memory, by named individuals.

No one came down off a mountain with two stone tablets, intoning Tony Clement, James Moore: Thou shalt make it a crime for Canadians to jailbreak their phones. Those guys chose enshittification, throwing away thousands of comments from Canadians who warned them what would come of it.

We don't have to be eternal prisoners of the catastrophic policy blunders of mediocre Tory ministers. As the omnicrisis polyshambles unfolds around us, we have the means, motive and opportunity to craft Canadian policies that bolster our sovereignty, protect our rights, and help us to set every technology user, in every country (including the USA) free.

The Trump presidency is an existential crisis but it also presents opportunities. When life gives you SARS, you make sarsaparilla. We once had an old, good internet, whose major defect was that it required too much technical expertise to use, so all our normie friends were excluded from that wondrous playground.

Web 2.0's online services had greased slides that made it easy for anyone to get online, but escaping from those Web 2.0 walled gardens meant was like climbing out of a greased pit. A new, good internet is possible, and necessary. We can build it, with all the technological self-determination of the old, good internet, and the ease of use of Web 2.0.

A place where we can find each other, coordinate and mobilize to resist and survive climate collapse, fascism, genocide and authoritarianism. We can build that new, good internet, and we must.

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/2025/02/26/ursula-franklin/#enshittification-eh

[mikuni14]

2023

Three clarifications: 1) all my opinions are completely subjective and based entirely on my feelings, 2) I definitely left out a lot of what I wanted to write, and I will probably remember it after the New Year lol 3) The Sign wins all the best categories, BUT the series isn't over yet. I included it in my list anyway (I also included Twins)

Unfortunately, 2023 is me continuing the trend started in 2022, i.e. dropping the series, sometimes even just before the finale. There are about 35 series I dropped this year (!!!!!). Some of them I literally stopped watching the moment MLs appeared on the screen, like Dinosaur Love. Sorry but nope. Why is this happening? Perhaps because of the huge number of series. Before, I watched everything, even the worst productions, because I simply had no choice. Now there are so many new series, also so many great older series that I can come back to with pleasure, that I don't regret dropping something, that in the past I would have forced myself to watch until the end. Life is too short to waste it on mid series 🤷‍♀️

My list:

Perfect relationships: Our Dating Sim, Jun&Jun, The 8th Sense, Love in Translation, MickTop - My Universe, The Sign, Twins, Our Dining Table, Sing My Crush, um, Destiny Seeker 😄

Perfect relationships minus this one thing (usually an awkward kiss, sorry, this is very important to me): Unitentional Love Story, Laws of Attraction. WHY. These are not Sotus times, it's 2023, there are no excuses, learn to kiss, it's the easiest thing to DO

Many series disappointed me, but most of all, the one in which I had such great hopes: Chains Of Heart, come ON, this series had EVERYTHING to become one of the best series this year!!

Characters most harmed by the plot: Boston and Babe. I will also never forgive Between Us for what they did to the most awesome couple ever: WinTeam

Interesting series that pleasantly surprised me with how different and unique they are: Be My Favorite, Bake Me Please

Series that I have watched until the end, that are a complete waste of time and that I have bad memories of: Step by Step and La Puie

Characters that were just plain awful and that I would avoid in real life: first and foremost, of course, that EUN JI bitch and Tae Hyung (The Eighth Sense) also Sangin (Sing My Crush), practically everyone from Only Friends, Phat and Saengtai (La Pluie), Pat (SBS), Wen (Moonlight Chicken), Charlie. I'm not writing about terrible parents, there were a lot of them this year

The craziest series I've watched anyway: Till The World Ends 🥳

It's been a year of shows about workplace romance, but only a few managed to portray it in a good, even cute way without creepy power imbalance: Jun&Jun, ODS, Love in Translation, probably Cherry Magic (still airing)

New stars✨ that rocked my 💖: Daou (LiT), Babe (The Sign), Frame (Twins), Guide (IFYLIA, Bake Me Please) and Mark Pakin, my king 👑

My obsessions this year: Jae Won (The 8th Sense), Charn (LoA), Yang (Love in Translation), Im Han Tae (Sing My Crush), Sprite, THARN and Phaya. Overall, 2023 was full of characters who were a wonderful mix of pathetic and crazy in love and who made me feel like 🥺😍😭🥳. These were the men (and boys) mentioned above, but also Yoon Tae Joon (Unintentional Love Story), Cheng (Chains of Heart), Pisaeng (BMF), Tinn (My School President), Mick (My Universe). I love all of them 💖

Hot guys 🔥: ok, there were a lot of them this year, but definitely Chi Jun (Jun&Jun), Yang (LiT), Im Han Tae (SMC), Palm (NLMG), Songkhram (Destiny Seeker), Way and Alan (Pit Babe), Yoon Tae Joon (Unintentional Love Story), Mark Pakin in all his roles, obviously Tharn and Phaya ✨

Characters that I always look at with fondness, that I watched with real pleasure,, who brought only high-quality content and made this year better for me: Tharn, Phaya and their friends (YAI), Tinn, Charn and their friends (NAWIN and the girls), Mick (MU), main couples from SMC, Jun & Jun, ODC and LiT, Our Dining Table, Yoon Tae Joon (Unintentional Love Story), MR. TIWSON 👑, Peach, Sprite (every time I write the names Peach and Sprite I crave a fruity drink 🍹)

Hottest scenes 🔥: everything that is happening in the PhayaTharn universe so far, and

With so many series from Thailand, surprisingly few made a huge impression on me, the same in the case of characters or couples that I was obsessed with and which I would happily rewatch many times. I was even more surprised by Korea, which, with an incomparably smaller number of series, still created real gems, fantastic couples and interesting, liked characters. It was Korea that gave me probably the most interesting character this year: Jae Won. Although Thailand shot a Tharn-shaped arrow straight into my heart at the very end of the year 💘

It was a very good year, hope 2024 will be even better. What I wish for myself and all of you, my lovely jellyfish bolsters 😘😘😘😘😘

I wanted to thank everyone here for being so awesome this year, everyone who wrote great reviews and funny posts and notes, everyone who worked hard to gif the best scenes and who promoted the series fiercely. I watched many of my favorite series only thanks to your gifs. I love you all so much, you are the best! 🥰

[please-buckme]

Coffee (Part 1) Hayden x reader

Fluff

No warnings!

1602 words

You walked through the doors of a coffee shop not too far from your hotel, the enriching smell of fresh brewed coffee fills your sense. Since being in LA you'd been to this shop quite a few times but today is the busiest you'd ever seen it. It was packed all the way to the door, so much so that you still had one foot planted on the sidewalk outside. You could have gone somewhere else but you didn't know the area very well and you weren't doing anything today since your trip was coming to an end, so why not just wait it out.

You were still half way out the door when someone down the line caused everyone in front of you to shift backwards. The person directly in front of you took a step back right onto your foot almost falling on you. "Hey!" You exclaimed. The man removed his foot from yours and stood tall again, regaining his balance.

He puts his hand on your shoulder before asking, "Are you alright?" You looked up from your foot to meet his gaze. His icy blue eyes met with yours. You studied his face for what felt like hours, taking in every scar, freckle and crease that only added to his beauty.Your eyes moved down a ways to examine the rest of him when you noticed his very 'unique' ensemble. You smiled slightly to yourself as you traveled your gaze but to his face.  You'd been so focused on him that he gave you a concerning look.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, shaking your head to now look at the floor.

"I asked if you were alright." He restated.

"Oh, yeah, I-I guess." You uttered. He faintly smiled at you as he removed his hand, that you forgot was there, and turned back around. Then the line had now moved up a couple feet so you both walked up to catch up. You wanted to see his face again, if only for a second. You were now impatient waiting in the line. It wasn't about the coffee anymore, no, your new mission was to get him to look at you again.

You faked a yawn and stretched your arms over your head, swaying side to side, that didn't work. Your next attempt was waving as if you saw someone you knew on the other side of the shop to see if it'd peak his interest, it didn't. You tried and failed at many other attempts to get his attention. Your last resort was the one you wish you didn't have to do but you were desperate. So, you 'accidently' bumped into him. Now it was supposed to be a light tap but you had gotten yourself so worked up that you nearly knocked him over.

"Oh my god. I'm so unbelievably sorry. A-are you alright?" you asked him ironically this time.

"Yeah." He said bluntly. He looked at you over his shoulder which was better than nothing you thought. The amount of force you used on him made you feel terrible. He stretched his back out as if it hurt which wouldn't surprise you. You had to do something.

You peered off to his side. "Let me buy your drink." You stated. He gave you a generous smile.

"That's very kind but really I'm alright." He was next in line and if you asked again you would've felt as though you were pestering him, so you moved to stand behind him again. As the next person finished with their order you watched him walk up to the counter and to place his order. The way his voice sounded ordering his coffee was more delicious than any drink on that menu. You could listen to his raspy, deep voice for hours.

You watched as his hand reached for his wallet that was in his back pocket. When you looked back up from his 'back pocket' you saw him watching you.. watching him. You felt as all the residual pinkness of your cheeks ran flush. You thought he'd smirk or something, maybe be flattered but he didn't. His face was unreadable as he turned back around to finish his transaction.

It was your turn now as the Barista, Amy, called out next for you to walk up. You watched the man move to the end of the counter to wait for his drink. "Hi, what can I get for you today?" Amy asked.

"Something with him on the side." You say to her. She laughs and agrees that, yes, he was a tall glass of water and you were thirsty. You then give her your actual order and make your way to stand next to him. You were determined to make conversation whether he actually wanted to talk to you or not.

Once you got up next to him you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Busy today." Is all you could think of apparently. He gave you a 'sure' smile followed by an eyebrow raise.

"Um, Do you- do you come here often." You realize you're scrambling but he has you so flustered that your brain has totally given up on intelligent conversation.

"Um, yeah." he looks away from you trying to avoid conversation. You're not giving up though, not on this one.

"Are you from here?"

"No but I live around here." Okay an actual response.

"Have you lived here long?" He turns to you now.

"I'm sorry but is there a reason you're drilling me right now? Are you a report on coffee shop talk or something?" You give him a puzzled look. You hadn't thought you were being that pushy.

He turns back to the counter to see if his coffee has come out yet. You scoff at him and do the same. You honestly found what he said to be rude. Why was it so bad to make conversation with him?

At this point you are becoming visibly angry. You crossed your arms over your chest with your fists curled under them so tight you could feel your nails digging into your palm. Your foot was tapping on the cement floor as if to distract you from your inner rage and you were positive that your face was beet red. You were angry, yes, but at the same time embarrassed. Had everyone seen him dismiss you? Someone had to at least hear him. Just then your order came up, before his. You went up to the counter, thanked the Barista and walked back to be face to face with him now.

"You know what I was doing? I was trying to have a conversation, it's what people do. I'm sorry if my 'drilling' put a damper on the rest of your day." He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something but nothing came out. "I hope your coffee's cold." You added. You laughed to yourself at that last part realizing how ridiculous that sounded.

You rolled your eyes at him before walking through the crowd of people to get to the door. You turned right out of the store letting the door close behind you, but it didn't. You saw from behind you the man. "Wait." he said. You processed out the door trying to ignore him from behind you.

"Please, I'm sorry. It's just been awhile since someone has actually tried to talk to me just to talk. I'm really sorry." Your pace slowed as you listened to hear him out. "Can we start over?" He asked, making your cheeks turn to a light pinkish color. He had caught up with you now and stepped in front of you. "Hi, I'm Hayden." He reached his hand out towards you. You shook his hand in response. "What no name?" He asks you.

"Well knowing my name isn't important unless you're actually trying to get to know me." you smirk. He laughs, flashing you a beautiful glimpse at his perfect teeth, making you blush once again.

"What are you suggesting." He asks out of curiosity. You think for a second before responding.

"Well, seeing as though you don't have your coffee I guess I should buy you that drink now."  You have to be gushing at this point. No way someone this attractive is giving you the time of day.

He laughs under his breath while shaking his head. His laugh was infectious, making you laugh as well. "I guess you do." He moves in a little closer to you. "How about dinner too? I know a great place around the block, care to join me?" The smile had left his lips. The words were coming from his lips but he was now speaking with his eyes.

You looked down, clearing your throat, trying to compose yourself. "Maybe." You said before adding, "I wasn't planning on buying you a whole meal though." You look up now to see smiling down at you again.

"Okay then dinners on me, I guess." He says, continuing to laugh. You nod your head in agreement. "It's a date then." He grabs the hand hanging down by your side and gives it a light squeeze before leaving you to walk in the opposite direction. You so badly wanted to follow him, to see how he lived, where he lived, but you didn't. You just stood there and watched as he disappeared back into the coffee shop, most likely going back to claim his coffee. You start your trek back to your hotel with a smile on your face and a coffee in your hand.

Part 2 (Wine)

xMasterlist.x

[fallenrepublick]

Y'know, I see a lot of Maul inserts where the reader is sweet and generally a pure angel and I love that, but I'm also completely enamoured by the idea of Maul falling hard and fast for someone ruthless, cunning and deadly all wrapped up with a pretty face à la the song A Little Wicked by Valerie Broussard, who's just as into him. Have you ever considered writing a drabble like that?? Love your stuff to the ends of the earth!!!

YES YES YES

Oh my god, anon, you are my HERO

I’ve been DYING to write something like that, because that kind of M/C is ACTUALLY my DEFAULT but I figured it would be too much?? Thank you SO MUCH for saying this

Honestly, I’m kinda hoping someone might want more of this, because dAmN

Warnings: Murder in detail

City lights, the kind that carve a hazy glow into the air as you step past, creating their own unique atmosphere in the air around them, a whole world encompassed within the orb that surrounded them. Still, there lay a darkness that couldn’t be denied, even by the soft effervescence of life that drummed on and above the planet’s surface.

The cool breeze of nighttime brushed across Maul’s robes as he walked, his silence a rarity amongst throngs of people otherwise preoccupied with their lives to pay notice to a Sith stepping mere inches from their feet. He was hunting, and even those with the keenest of senses would barely have been able to spot it. The instructions from his master had been clear, and knowing a terrible fate would befall him if he were discovered, he hugged the sides of buildings, the edges and corners draping a natural shadow over him that concealed him from prying eyes.

He searched through the crowds, watching, waiting, golden eyes illuminated under his hood the only piece of him that stood out against the emptiness. But something struck him, an aura not unlike his own, that gave him pause, his task being overtaken by the sudden tug at his senses.

Lifting himself from where he leaned, he followed his urge as far as it would take him, winding through streets and turning corners until he came upon an alley. The walls were old, rust climbing the edges and lining the seams, old pages and posters soft from the rain and mist still clinging to the metal were now unreadable, the ink spreading and becoming diluted from the water that dripped from saturated clouds.

And then there was you. A knife clutched in your hand, figure standing over a trembling victim who’d been kicked to his knees, a blade pressed up against his throat. You were smiling, beautiful, terrible.

“I told you not to try it,” you hissed, voice breathy, warning against moments already passed. Maul’s hearts had found a tempo that beat with every word you spoke. “What, pray tell, were you expecting to happen?”

The man on his knees, dark grey pants marked with asphalt, shook harder, his pleas becoming more and more difficult to choke out. “I-I’m s-sorry.” He closed his eyes. “I th-thought you were-”

“Thought I was what?” you challenged, each syllable harder than the last. “You thought I was easy, didn’t you? You thought you could get something out of me. Unfortunately for you, I have some time on my hands.” You were laughing now, bitter and cold, the sound wrapping icy metallic wire around Maul’s chest, pulling him ever towards you. Oh, how he wished to see you work.

But you looked up, instincts perking once you took notice of him. Be it force sensitivity or the best situational awareness he’d ever seen, Maul couldn’t tell, but he was enamored nonetheless.

“What?” you said defensively, holding tighter to the poor soul who surely wouldn’t make it out of this encounter alive. Regardless, you clearly knew Maul was no authority figure, so you could afford to be brash.

He crossed his arms, angling his head as he watched you. “No, please,” he gestured down for a moment at the still terrified man. “Continue.”

“Ugh,” you huffed, pursing your lips and looking back down. “An audience kills the mood, don’tcha think?” With a single swift movement, you dragged the knife across the man’s throat, and as he fell to the ground completely, your clothes and skin were peppered with a spray of his blood. You wiped the knife on your pants and slipped it into the sheath on your belt, stepping towards Maul.

It was curious to him. Someone so radiant in form could be so deadly, one would never even imagine that you were capable of such atrocities. Yet here you were, standing right before him, and even more curious, he found his breath catching the closer you came.

“What was it,” he said finally, eyes scanning you, tracking even the slightest movement. “That subjected him to your anger?”

A laugh echoed in your chest as you returned his gaze, pressing down the extremely annoying feeling that was beating inside of you. “He wanted a date. He wouldn’t go away, and even tried to force it. It’s not the first time, but trust me, I’ve done a lot worse for a lot less.”

“Surely.”

“So,” you sighed, leaning on the wall to your left. “What’s a Sith doing in the most pathetic part of town? You don’t have somewhere important you gotta be?”

No. “How-”

“You really think anyone around here dresses like that? I may be a lowlife, but I’m not stupid, unlike most of these degenerates.” You thought a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I know you got some rules or whatever about people finding out about you, but don’t bother. I don’t give a shit, and it’s not like I got anyone to tell.”

He was silent, deliberation taking up his mind. Yes, his master was clear, no one could know. And yet…

“You do this a lot, don’t you?” he asked, deciding maybe, just once, he could bend the rules.

“What, kill people?” You smiled at the question, mildly incredulous, but seemingly finding it funny. You lit up, and Maul watched you in wonder. “I mean, I guess. Trust me, it’s not like any of these people are gonna be missed, and sometimes I gotta break a few necks to make my life easier.”

Realizing how much he didn’t want you to leave, he tread over, leaning on the same wall, positioned right beside you. Every so often, his eyes would drift to you, memorizing you as you breathed, smirk still tugging at your lips. He saw the ruthlessness within you, concealed behind soft features, your advantage against those who sought you out clear as day. A monster behind the facade of the innocent, using the precedent of other, truly innocent people, who came before you. But when your head turned and you looked up, there was something else. Something that came from elsewhere.

You were too close. He could feel your presence beside him, warmth bypassing his clothes and practically devouring him. But he had to keep his head. To remain silent would be to lose an opportunity.

“And you would do it again? Willingly?” It was a stupid question, he realized, but he could think of little else to ask.

“Did that look unwilling to you?” you said, eyebrows raised. “If it did, I gotta work on my form. But… yeah. We’re all gonna die someday, right? Just some sooner than others.”

Gods, take him now.

Sliding closer to him, your shoulders collided, and Maul’s hearts stopped. He froze in place, unsure of what to do. Gradually, you lay your head on his shoulder, motions lazy, but face amused.

“I think,” you began, voice quieter now, ensuring no passerby would hear. “It’s only fair that now you know what I can do, I should see what you can do.”

[harringtonstudios]

space cake.

plot: being machine gun kelly’s personal assistant comes with some interesting experiences.

A/N: NON-CON DRUG USE!! this was loosely based off something irl LMAO, enjoy ;) v long oops 

please send in any prompts! 

taglist: @iamdorka​ @no-shxt-sherl​ @bakerkells​

Being Machine Gun Kelly’s personal assistant was a unique job. There wasn’t a clear line of duties, and often you would find yourself driving around aimlessly, waiting on a text from the man himself. You’d been hired a few months ago, and it had been so easy to fall into a routine with Colson. He was surprisingly cool for a talented musician, and you’d soon learned that he was looking for more of a chill vibe than the other artists you had worked for. 

In past jobs, you were required to constantly attend to any needs. With Colson, it was more of having your phone on and being in the area in case of emergencies. There were always those days where he would send you a grocery list, and then an hour later, you’d be standing in his kitchen with a mixture of vegetables making dinner. Other days, he’d send you an address, and you would pick up his weed for the week. Sometimes, he’d ask for your help with his room, but you would always grimace and he’d wave it off, knowing that his room was a disaster zone. 

A couple of times he had hit you up to just sit on his couch while he played new songs on his speakers. Those days were your favorite, because you’d both sit in silence, him blowing smoke from his joint and you sipping on whatever drink you’d created in his bar. He would always wait for the song to finish, and then look over at you and raise an eyebrow. You relished in his music, and it was easy for you to tell him any opinions you had. He’d always take them seriously, scribbling notes down. After a good music session, you always felt a little bit closer to Colson, slow electricity building in the air. But you would always remind yourself to shake it off, bringing back distance between the two of you. This was a job, and even if he couldn’t tell, you needed this and you weren’t going to risk it for just anything.

-

You were standing in line for hot dogs when your phone buzzed twice. Both messages were from Colson, the first one had a list of ingredients and the second one had an address with a few leaf emojis. You sent him back a thumbs up before ordering your food and googling the random address he sent. It was a ten minute drive from the grocery store and you climbed into your car, eating one of the best hot dogs they offered in LA.

Grabbing the ingredients Colson had sent you, you pieced together his plans for the night. He was gonna bake a cake? He wanted a shit-ton of eggs, a few tubs of frosting, and boxes of cake mix. A part of you wanted to try and see if you could bake with him, but professional boundaries existed and you needed to maintain them.

- 

A few minutes later, you knocked on the door of the other address, “Hey, here for Kells,” you said to the man standing there. He nodded over at you before walking into his house. You stayed in the doorway as he walked back up to you, giving you a large cardboard box. The box was heavy, and you huffed as you balanced it in one hand before getting in your car, driving off. 

Parking in Colson’s driveway was difficult. There were cars filling up the space, and you could already hear the music coming from inside. Sighing, you decided to open the cardboard box to try and put some of the groceries inside of it. Right off, you regretted opening it. Packets of weed stared right up at you, and your eyes widened at the amount of drugs you’d been carrying. You quickly closed it back up and stacked a few cake mix boxes on top of it. Grabbing everything in your hands, you tried to efficiently close the door, determined not to make a second trip. 

Kicking the front door open, you waddled over to the kitchen counter. It was already covered with solo cups and alcohol bottles and you grew more confused about why anyone wanted to bake in the middle of what seemed to be a party. 

“Hey, Y/N! You’re back,” Colson shouted from across the room. 

You waved him over and started moving all the empty cups into the trash. Coming up behind you, he grabbed the box over your head. 

“Fuck yeah. This is gonna be the best night ever,” he muttered as you turned around to face him. 

“What’s all this even for?” you questioned as he giddily moved around the ingredients on the counter. 

“Don’t worry about it, you’re good to leave if you wanna,” he waved it off and you side stepped as he tried to move closer to the counter. Giving him full access, you grabbed your jacket and turned around to view the scene unfolding in front of you. 

The guys were all in various states of drunk, fumbling around the living room. Slim and Rook were assembling the frosting tubs in a line and you could tell it was going to be a night full of antics. A part of you desperately wanted to stay, to play along with the guys, knock a couple of drinks back and help them bake this disaster of a cake, but messing around with your employer’s friends wasn’t going to do you any favors, so you waved goodbye and walked out for the night. 

-

Two hours later, you were sitting in a bar. Your friends had set you up on a blind date, eager to get you back on the playing field. You didn’t have time in your randomized schedule to go out and dates always made you a little uneasy. 

A few minutes later, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Y/N? Hey, nice to meet you,” the guy reached his hand out. You shook his hand, but already could feel yourself grimacing internally. It wasn’t that this guy was unattractive, it was more like he just wasn’t your type. He was dressed in a button down and khakis at a bar, it just didn’t work for you. You braced yourself for an evening of careless small talk and grabbed your drink as he led you to a table. 

Half an hour into the date, which was as boring as you’d anticipated, your phone buzzed. At first, you reached for it, but your date threw an unkind glance, so you brushed the notification off. A few minutes later, you got a few more buzzes and then a phone call. Your date threw another look at you. You smiled sweetly before picking up the phone. 

“Y/N! I need you to come over now,” Colson shouted over the noise through the phone. You pulled it back from your ear, before bringing it back. 

“Is everything okay?” you mumbled into the phone. 

“Yeah. Nooo. We’re out of alcohol,” he whined on the other end. 

You rolled your eyes, and spared a glance at your date who was picking at his teeth. Maybe this was a good thing, an excuse to leave this terrible date. 

“Sorry, something’s come up at work and I gotta head over,” you reached for your bag. Not particularly waiting for a response, you pushed in your chair and walked out of the bar. 

-

Walking to the corner store, you purchased a few bottles of Jameson and ordered a Lyft to Colson’s house. 

People were dancing all around, and you spotted Colson sitting on his kitchen counter. There was an impressive looking cake placed next to him, covered in different colors of frosting. You placed the new bottles next to the cake. 

“Fuck yeahhhh!” Colson fist bumped you as you hid your purse under the counter. Grabbing a cup you decided to get a little more drunk tonight. Honestly, you deserved it after sitting through that hellish date. 

Rook cut the cake into pieces to much celebration and soon enough, you had a fork in your hand. Reaching over to share with Colson, he snatched his plate away. 

“Hey no, I wanted that,” you grabbed for it. 

“No cake for you,” he responded and walked away. You stuck your tongue out behind his back before taking your fork and reaching into someone else's plate. 

Taking a few bites, it hit you that the cake tasted terrible. The flavor profile was just off. Everyone still seemed to be eating it, so you brushed it off and took a couple more bites for good measure. 

-

Half an hour later, you bumped into Colson as you walked up the stairway. He looked over at you, grinning until he caught sight of your face. “Y/N? Oh fuck, did you eat the cake,” he rushed out as he grabbed hold of your wrists.

“Yeah, haha. What gave it away?” you responded as you swayed a little. He cursed under his breath before looking around at the swarm of people moving around his house.

“Is there frosting on my mouth? What,” you started as he pulled you along. Following him upstairs, you smiled at the people dancing alongside his walls. Tripping over your own feet, you snatched back your wrists from his grip. 

“Dude, where are we going?” you asked as he moved people in front of him. 

“My room,” he answered and you hadn’t been this confused in a while. Colson knew you hated going into his room. He looked a little frantic, so you brushed your disgust off and stood behind him as he pulled the key out from his pocket. 

Moving into his room, you heard the music muffle itself as the door closed. There were clothes strewn everywhere, and you could see his luggage opened in a corner, things spilling out of it. Grimacing, you kicked a couple of things aside as you walked over to his bathroom. You didn’t feel too good. 

Splashing your face with cold water, you gasped. Everything around you was looking sharper, and you felt your heartbeat rabbiting as you gripped the sink. Your mind was racing, and you tried to take a deep breath as the world tilted just a little.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathed out as you closed your eyes. 

“Y/N, you okay?” Colson called out from behind the door. You looked back up in the mirror as your heart continued thudding against your chest.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled out. Your eyes looked hazy, and you touched your cheek, trying to feel your face. 

“Hey, it’s going to be fine. Open the door yeah?” you heard him say and you closed your eyes again. You couldn’t really walk, so you sat down on the floor. You shifted yourself to the door and reached up to turn the knob. He stumbled in and saw you on the floor, eyes shut. 

He sat across from you, legs crossed and you could feel his fingers run over your hands. “Hey, hey I’m here,” he murmured. 

“Colson, what’s going on?” you whispered. 

“So, um that cake you ate? It was laced. We wanted to make a space cake,” he responded and you opened your eyes. 

“A space cake, what the fuck is that,” you bit your tongue as your hands shook a little.

“Weed. A shit-ton of weed in that cake. I know you don’t smoke, it probably hit hard,” he explained.You exhaled, and took your hands out of his. Placing them on your thighs, you pushed down a little.

 “Let me get this straight, you made a cake edible, which I ate. And now I am high,” you muttered out, staring at his hands across from you. 

“Yeah, basically,” his hands twitched and you reached over for them again. Your heart seemed to relax when you could feel the weight of his fingers with yours. 

“I don’t smoke because the last time I did, I got crazy paranoid. Bad trip,” you whispered as you played with his hand. Continuing, you blurted out, “I didn’t want you to see all that.” 

“If it makes you feel better, I am really high right now,” he whispered back and you laughed a little. It did help, Colson could handle his weed better than you, but at least you weren’t the only one tripping. 

“Can I hold you,” he murmured, “you’re shaking.”

You looked up at his face and he looked so sincere. Nodding, you leaned in closer as he scooted over to where you were. You turned around, facing the wall as he wrapped his arms around you. His heartbeat was steady, calming, and you felt it against your back. 

“I didn’t want this to ever happen,” you mumbled as you stared at the chipping paint on the corner. 

“I can leave,” he started and you felt his arms move from around you. 

“No!” you shouted a little, and he paused. 

“Shit, I- okay look. I just didn’t want to get this close to you. You’re my boss and I need this job and I can’t actually like you,” you stumbled out. 

He was quiet for a beat and then he whispered, “You like me?” 

The tone in his voice was softer than you’d expected and his arms relaxed against you.

“No, never pfft. Why would I? You’re annoying and you never actually eat any fruits and you’re just terrible,” you rambled on and you could feel him laughing behind you.

“Oh, you totally have a crush on me,” he barked out between his laughs. 

“Shut up,” you felt hot all of a sudden and you closed your eyes again. 

“It’s all good. Honestly, I might like you too. There’s just something about you. It’s why I always wanna hear your thoughts on my stuff. You matter to me,” he said as he moved his thumbs over the back of your hand. 

You didn’t respond. Trying to get his words out of your head, you focused on the feeling of his thumb. After a few minutes of silence, you spoke out.

“Is there anyway I can sleep here tonight?”

“In my messy bed? I thought you hated this room,” he said, leaning his head against the back of yours. 

“It’s disgusting here. I just- I don’t wanna go back out there,” you sighed out. 

“Yeah, of course you can stay here Y/N,” and you turned around to see his grin. 

Even though you were tripping on some serious space cake, you found yourself smiling back. You’d deal with this in the morning, right now all you wanted was a warm bed and Colson Baker’s arms around you.

[messinwitheddie]

A complete list of events that occur before my 18-year-later au takes place. (or nearly complete, as this is a work in progress and many of Dib's life events are not mentioned and there are several gaps in the timeline I'm still filling, especially from Dib's pov.)

Many ocs are mentioned. I may never completely organize this into a finalized comic or fic, but maybe for now at least I can say this au has continuity and plot and ISN'T just a bunch of random bullshit I peice together as I go along.

*The events of Nubs of Doom

_The Most Horrible X-Mas ever

*The events of the Trial

*The events of Mopiness of Doom

*The events of 10 minutes to Doom

*The events of ETF (or the Florpis Hole incident)

*Dib turns 13, Gaz turns 12.

*The point at which my AU crosses over with JTHM/ Squee (my JTHM au has it's own timeline. By this point, Nny has passed away and Squee is 17.)

Gaz discovers her/ Dib's birth origins and dredges up several Membrane family skeletons.

Gaz learns about/ contacts Todd Casil (Squee), who is bilogically her half-brother.

Squee is adopted into the Membrane family/moves into the Membrane household.

*Skoodge takes refuge in Zim's base on earth.

*Dib meets Loralei Von Verminstrasser.

(Loralei, youngest and least noticed member of the wealthy, eccentric cryptid hunting Von Verminstrasser clan, tries to break into the Membrane household to prove her theory that the famous Prof. Membrane is an alien/ earning the respect of her older brothers/ parents, grandmother-Countess).

*Dib proves to Lei, Prof. Membrane is in fact human, just a VERY... unique one.

*Dib/ Lei become friends/ date long distance when she returns to Germany (Lei goes to a private school in Kandern).

*Lei agrees to help Dib infiltrate Zim's base and collect proof of his alien origins. Zim discovers them/ traps them in a virtual labyrinth designed to torment Dib, but amuse Zim.

*Squee eventually has to rescue them from Zim's virtual reality room.

(Based off the events of Top of the Line)

*The Massive is finally pulled back into reality by the efforts of the Irken empire's science/ engineering teams.

*Temporary Tallest Grie is demoted to General once again as Tallest Red/ Purple resume their reign.

They declare operation ID2 back on schedule and to celebrate their return to power, they host a televised Gladitorial event between the invaders and their SIR units.

*Tenn begs the tallests to let Tak compete for one last chance to be encoded as an invader for ID2. Red/Purple agree as they owed her a favor for the terrible Megadoomer Mixup.)

Zim learns of the competition. He drags Skoodge to the event to crash the competition and enter Gir.

*Dib discovers this through his usual spying methods. Believing Zim to be especially unhinged since the Florpis Hole incident; He decides to convince Gaz to follow them in Tak's ship.

*They follow Zim's voot to the far off snacking system, Casino Major, where the SIR unit gladiatorial event is being held.

*Dib/ Gaz use Tak's ship to give themselves Irken disguises.

*they run into Tak, who takes back her ship; stranding Dib/ Gaz in the middle of Casino Major (Irken equivalent to New Las Vegas).

They eventually are discovered by the Resisty who explain to the humans their plight.

Dib/ Gaz agree to infiltrate the Massive and record data for Lard-Narr's future rebellion attempts.

* Dib/ Gaz sneak aboard the Massive.

*Meanwhile, through chaotic fortune, Gir almost wins the SIR unit competition.

*Mimi is destroyed in the process. Tak is OUTRAGED.

*Before she can exact her revenge on Zim, Tenn goes missing. A warning transmission from Meekrob is sent.

*It is quickly discovered Tenn is in fact still on Meekrob, being held captive. The Tenn present at the competition was a telepathic projection.

*The Meekrob threaten to declare war on the Irken empire if the invasion on their homeworld is not called off.

*Tallest Red/ Purple round up the invaders to rescue Tenn or at least recover her body before her PAK is hacked by the enemy. They have no intentions of calling off the invasion.

Red/Purple relax while the Invaders handle the dirty work.

Zim/ Tak crash the rescue mission. They proceed to rampage on Meekrob.

Meanwhile

*Dib/ Gaz attempt to blend in on the Massive's engineering crew/ cadets on a training feild trip.

*Dib discoveres Gir/ Minimoose, who have been ordered to stay behind on the Massive and wait for further orders.

*Dib convinces Gir to give him a tour of thd Irken flagship. Gir complies, despite having absolutely no knowledge on the Massive's interior. Minimoose sticks with Gaz.

*Dib/Gir stumble upon a newly constructed Smeetery.

*Dib, ignorant of the facility's purpose, tampers with the birthing system.

*Gir's AI is accidentally downloaded into a Smeet PAK. Dib is unable to safely stop the downloading of consciousness in time.

*Smeet Gir is born. He immediately scrambles off and loses Dib in the Massive's kitchen.

*Gir instinctively starts to play with food/ make donuts. Blown away by the cooking smeet, Pielord Emis-Gee takes Gir to Red/Purple who try his donuts. They declare Gir a smeet prodigy and enlist him in the culinary ops.

*Frylady Soo-Garr, youngest of the frylords, is ordered by the tallest to hire Gir in her Patiasseri and begin his training. Soo-Garr begrudgingly accepts.

*After a semi- not-so-successful successful rescue mission from Meekrob, Zim/ Tak/ Skoodge return to the Massive with Tenn, alive.

*Meekrob declares war on the Irken Empire.

*Red/Purple are publically humiliated once again.

*Skoodge/ Tak /Tenn are permanently encoded as service drones. Tenn/ Tak are stationed on Dirt. Skoodge is given a snack machine vendor position.

*Zim is too deffective for a proper existence evaluation (since the events of the Trial)

*Red strips Zim of his Irkenhood and declares Zim an imperial pariah.

*Zim is shunned by the entire empire by tallest(s) order. He is viciously chased off the massive/ forced to flee into hiding by a the armada.

*Dib/ Gaz, horrified by the unruly Irken mob, hijack one of the armada's mobile canons/ flee the Massive and return to earth. They do not see/ hear from Zim for another 18 years.

*Zim is later approached by Frylady Soo-Garr who offers Zim an apartment to live in IF he cares for Gir/ provides him with thd basic holotraining she was required to provide for Gir during his apprenticeship with her.

*Zim agrees, only to make sure Gir would survive smeethood while training in the culinary ops.

*Zim becomes Gir's unofficial coddle drone (parent) from that day onward.

*Red is declared dead from an aneurysm (about 7 years after tallest he labels Zim a pariah/ Zim moves to Conventia. )

-Purple spirals into a deep/ long mourning period/ state of depression for about 10 years.

-Planetary conquests grind to a halt.

-Little ground is gained in the war against Meekrob

-Resisty activity increases.

*Gir's skills as a cook gradually improve. He becomes popular with customers/ makes several Irken friends his age; the two he becomes closest with are Vroog and Yeet.

Zim reconnects with his old elite training commander, Poki.

*Poki is demoted, discharged from military service after an injury on hobo13 that damages her PAK, wipes out several decades of memories.

*Zim and Poki become drinking buddies.

(17-years-later mark)

*A Great Cook-Off between the frylords is held on Conventia. Soo-Garr hosts the event. The Frylord who wins the Cook Off is promoted in rank and/ or with kitchen upgrades/ increased service drone staff.

Gir, one growth spurt away from adulthood is promised his official apprenticeship in Frylady Soo-Garr's Patisserie provided Soo-Garr wins the competition.

*Zim (unable to pull himself out of a 17-year depression/ mental breakdown takes off without telling anyone, including Gir.)

*Gir is heartbroken Zim does not attend the cook off to cheer him on.

*Pielord Emis-Gee wins the Cook Off once again/ keeps his title as Frylord of the Massive's grand kitchen.

* Outraged by the defeat, Soo-Garr terminates Gir's apprenticeship.

*Frylord Sizz-Lorr offers to take Gir on as his apprentice and continue his training on Foodcourtia. Gir agrees. (he does not speak to Zim in person again for another decade or so.)

*(meanwhile) Zim wanders through space for months. He goes on several misadventures; including

-Volunteering Gir's cadet friend, Vroog to help him trespass onto the Irken Death factory planet KryptKii-Prr-5 in order to settle a personal vendetta of Zim's.

Zim/ Vroog follow the labrynth of corpse covered assembly lines where mass PAK removals and the recycling of consciousness regulated by the Purple Control Brain take place. (Zim is horrified and appauled; Vroog is enamored)

*Zim/Vroog lock eyes with the Purple CB. Discovered, they are forced to run for their lives as a mob of security drones/ alarmed mortuary drones chase after them.

*Zim fails to carry out his vendetta.

*Vroog is inspired to quit the military/ later enlists as a mortuary drone.

*Zim leaves Vroog alone on a pitstop recharging asteroid to flee arrest.

Vroog is eventually arrested by Irken Sentinels and forced to serve janitorial services on Mooping 10 until they can reinlist into the empire's workforce as a mortuary student.

*Zim secretly feels guilty for these events; tries to deny their occurrence in his head. Vroog remembers Zim fondly as they chase their newfound passion.

(meanwhile)

*Gir's other friend Yeet graduated from basic training with high scores.

*Yeet is sent to Hobo13 to continue her combat training/ persue a chance to be listed as an elite invader for ID3.

*By the Control Brain's order, Tallest Purple is sent to Hobo13 to address the troops in training with a morale-boosting speech.

*Yeet befriends Purple (who is still deeply depressed/ wearing mourning robes) by offering him a doll of late Red hand-sewn from her own silk.

*Touched, Purple offers Yeet a job on his personal staff as his coordinator.

*Yeet agrees and leaves Hobo13 with Purple on the Massive.

*Zim continues to aimlessly wander from Planet to planet.

He stops on Casino Minor (Irken equivalent to old Vegas) and eventually, after a several month drinking bender, crashes into Tenn, piloting Tak's ship over the abandoned Remote Lunar Research Base 327.

*Zim discovers Tak, Tenn and Floog taking an "illegal" hiatus from their service drone jobs on the abandoned moon.

*Zim considers trying to make amends with the 3 of them for his past transgressions, but at the last minute, decides to steal parts from Tak's ship to repair his and flee the moon to continue his wandering throughout space (stranding Tak, Tenn, Floog on Moonbase 327 temporarily).

(18-years-later mark)

*Zim's voot crashes into a dead mall located a few miles past the Membrane Lab's building.

*The crash is witnessed by Dib's 9-year-old son, Reg on the top of the Membrane's Labs building rooftop.

*Reg sneaks out to investigate the crash. He discovers Zim, barely conscious/ coherent and severely injured.

*Reg brings Zim to his Flat to recover.

*Dib reluctantly mends Zim's internal injuries. Upon Zim regaining consciousness he agrees to allow Zim to live with him long enough to physically recover/ repair his. voot.

*Zim lives with Dib/ Reg for 2 years.

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Hi S! Here after a few days. I was so happy to see the OTP list. I loved your answers and gifs. You articulate your thoughts and justifications so well. It is a pleasure to read the posts. They most often picked up fights in the car. Do you have any canon on them having long, peaceful drives? The dupatta set is gorgeous. They used it so well and thanks for the bonus. It was used to convey an eclectic of emotions. The visuals of the 1st episode were remarkable. I loved the shots you highlighted

The specific moments you highlighted were spectacular. It added so much to the show. The impressive cinematography and design continued through the show and kept me hooked. It wasn't a one time wonder but the team invested a lot into planning the scenes and other nitty-gritties. That's another reason why IPK stood out for me. Now, about the otp list: 34 and 39 for Anjali and Aman, 20 (what they argue about) for mama and mami and guess who for La and NK. I hope you are very well :) Hugs- Rdx.

Dearest Rdx, 

I’m so happy to see you here - I guess preparations for the wedding are on a full swing! Keep me apprised with all the photographs! (To anyone else reading this, no she’s not getting married, her brother is - otherwise would I even be on this blog?!).

Do you have any canon on them having long, peaceful drives?

Yes I do. I quite like to think that their car is one of their ‘private’ spaces. So they argue, chat and enjoy rides out of town. In fact if they’re out for a vacation in India perhaps Arnav drives all the way there with Khushi. 

And maybe after Khushi brushed up her skills in driving, she drives them to the city/hill-station of their choice. 

And sometimes after a tiring day of work they choose to randomly go for a long drive instead of directly heading home. 

Also, thank you for the compliments on the gifsets! I love highlighting the shots in IPK - honestly it is a study on how to make a cliched yet unique love story.

#34. Do they go on dates? What are they like? (Aman Anjali)

Yes they do! Initially they would meet at coffee shops, making small talks and having meaningful silences. Once they got closer, Aman would invite Anjali for lunch dates at his home. 

And then it became dinner dates. 

Aman’s quite the chef so he’d cook dinners and that's where they’d have the best conversations. Anjali would come out of her reserved, elegant shell and laugh boisterously at Aman’s jokes (humor is not his strong suit) and Aman would wind down, finally, and probably watch a terribly cheesy Hindi film/soap opera with Anjali for the night. 

#39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch? (Bonus: What does it say?) (Aman Anjali)

Aman does! It started off as something small - when Anjali headed straight to her NGO from Aman’s when he packed her a small tiffin box. It said “Have a good day, A” and probably meant the whole world for her. 

Since then it’s been a habit - even post their marriage that he drops little notes that says the most mundane, yet sweet things like “eat well”, “I’ll be late tonight, don’t stay up, A”. Things that could easily be communicated over text but they both prefer the little notes.

#20. What do they argue about the most? (Mama/Mami) (NK/La)

Mama/Mami

On a serious note: The fact that Mahinder does not try to mend the fences between his mother and Manorama.

On a lighter note: That he goes away for long trips without taking her and a list of the makeupiya she needs. 

 #12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing? (NK/La)

If that doesn’t spell out Nandkisore then I don’t know what does! I’m very sure that whenever NK visits La, especially by surprise, that’s how he greets her! And  she loves it!

Lots of love,

- Soapy

[written-on-the-trees]

Emerson Barrett Fan Fiction - Beautiful Things Come One Stitch At A Time

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers (or rather exes to still-exes-but-one-of-them-wants-to-get-back-together)

Word-count: 1825 words

Warnings: none

Description: Tia dumped Emerson because he wasn't good for her. She never expected to see him at work four years later - and now she doesn't know what to do.

Sequel to Not Enough Stitches To Put Us Back Together!

Tia sighed and ran her hand through her hair.

 This was not how she had wanted to spend her day.

 After getting fired, she’d started looking for jobs that would take her away from Las Vegas. It had only been a few months since she’d dumped her ex-boyfriend, Emerson, and it had seemed like the universe was telling her it had been time for a change. She’d applied for a few various positions, and ended up taking a job on Los Angeles, at Sumerian Records. At the time, Palaye Royale had been an unsigned band, and Tia had taken a job as a personal assistant in the record label’s legal department, figuring that even if Palaye Royale were signed to Sumerian, it was unlikely Tia would ever have any reason to deal with them.

 However, two very significant things had changed since she’d first started working for Sumerian.

 Firstly: she’d become a tour manager. Apparently she had an undiscovered talent for wrangling people and organisation. The last bit hadn’t really been undiscovered to her, but the people wrangling bit had been a pleasant surprise.

 Secondly - something that was a much less pleasant surprise - Palaye Royale got signed to Sumerian Records.

 Tia hadn’t been pleased. She’d gone straight to her boss, Kayley, and explained everything: that Emerson was an ex-boyfriend, that they hadn’t parted on the best of terms, and that Sebastian and Remington despised her. Kayley had taken it in stride, and made notes in all the relevant places that Tia wasn’t to be TM on any tour Palaye Royale were on. It was a system that worked for years; she never saw any of the three men, and since she’d blocked them all on all of her social media accounts, along with anyone she knew they were close with, she wasn’t even sure she worked for the label they were signed to.

 It was the perfect arrangement, as far as she was concerned.

 But then the world had gone to shit. That had been rough for everyone, not least Tia, who had been lucky to be put on paid leave through the worst of it, getting 75 percent of her monthly salary each month. Between that, using the extra time to spend on her crafting hobbies that allowed her open up an Etsy store, and her savings, Tia had been lucky enough to wait the virus out. Some of her colleagues hadn’t been so lucky, and had had to move on, but as much as Tia’s heart had hurt for them, she hadn’t really thought of what that meant for her.

 Like the fact Sumerian were now dealing with the world opening back up for concerts while they had a lack of tour managers.

 Which was how Tia had ended up being named TM for the second leg of Palaye Royale’s The Bastards Tour.

   Just kill me now.

   Kayley had been apologetic, and Tia honestly believed there was nothing her boss could’ve done, but in some respects that just made things more frustrating. There was no-one to blame for these circumstances but a shitty universe fucking with her, and so Tia just had to put on her big girl knickers and get on with it. Starting with introducing herself to the boys as their new TM.

 It wasn’t going to be fun. In fact, Tia was pretty sure it was going to be the worst day she’d had since she’d dumped Emerson.

 Despite that, though, Tia squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked onto the tour bus that was going to be her new home - and the home of her ex-boyfriend and his brothers - for the next few months. The sudden silence that fell across the three men sitting in the main living area was deafening, but Tia didn’t let it intimidate her. She was going to have to face a lot worse than just silence, and she wasn’t going to be beaten so early on.

   So, instead, she just put a blandly professional smile on her face, and introduced herself before any of those idiots could speak: “Good morning. I’m Tatia, and I’m going to be the TM for this tour.”

 “We know who you are.” Sebastian glared at Tia: “It’s not like we’d forget the bitch who dumped our brother on the way back from the hospital.”

 Remington nodded: “We’re not awful people.”

   Tia would like to argue that point, specifically about Sebastian and Remington, but she was determined to remain professional.

 Even if Emerson was staring at her as if she was some sort of literal angel: like he couldn’t quite believe he was actually seeing her. It was weird, and Tia really hoped that he stopped doing it soon, but in the name of remaining professional she ignored it.

   “Of course you’re not.” Tia agreed with Remington, keeping her tone light and friendly, despite how bad his attitude was: “And irrespective of any previous relationships, we’re going to have to work together for the next three months, so I believe it’s in all out interests to be civil.”

 “Or we could just tell the label that you’re a ex and we don’t want to work with you.” Remington smirked.

 Tia just smiled at him: “Sumerian Records have been aware of the fact Emerson is my ex-boyfriend since you signed with them. Normally I would not have been your TM, but there’s a bit of a shortage of us around at the moment, and I’m the only one available for this tour. If you would still like to take it up with the record, then you can, but in terms of TMs, it’s me or no-one.”

   Silence reigned again.

   “Shall we get on the road, then?”

   The silence continued, and Tia took that as a win.

      A month into the tour, and Tia was ready to tear her hair out.

 Remington and Sebastian were dicks. Andrew, their touring guitarist, took his lead from them, even if he wasn’t as bad: and their merch girl Hope did the same. All the roadies, some of whom she’d worked with before, were on her side, seeing Remington, Sebastian, and Andrew as arrogant and rude because…well, they were arrogant and rude, snapping demands during set up and ignoring everyone the rest of the time. The driver hated them because he was constantly annoyed by their antics on the bus, so he was on Tia’s side too

 The bus was divided, and it was not conductive to a good environment.

 And then there was Emerson.

 Emerson, when he wasn’t busy on stage or doing media, followed Tia around like a lost puppy. The roadies had found it really creepy to begin with - and even when Tia had filled them in on the fact he was her ex, they still weren’t too happy about him. She was rarely left on her own, and she grateful for that - because apparently Emerson was not over her.

 He started with constantly trying to make eye contact whenever they were in the same room. When that didn’t work, he moved onto texting her, since she’d unblocked him for work, but she ignored all messages from him that weren’t work related. Once he’d realised he wasn’t getting anywhere with the texts, he’d moved onto gifts and cares. A lot of gifts and cards. Stuffed toy cats, expensive treats like fancy baked goods and chocolates, interesting sounding books, even jewelry.

 Tia ignored all of it, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he would stop letting her do that.

 Eventually, he managed to corner her while she was talking to Hope about how much stock the merch table needed and if they needed to look at getting more. With Hope being firmly on the band’s side, and probably assuming Emerson was going to chew her out like Remington and Sebastian constantly tried to, she disappeared the moment he gestured for her to give him and Tia a moment.

   He didn’t waste a moment once he had her trapped between himself, the merch table, and a wall, immediately launching into what he wanted to say: “Tia, I’m so sorry. Past me was awful - ”

 “I hate to break it to you, Emerson, but present you is also pretty terrible.” Tia rolled her eyes.

 “ - but I have changed.” Emerson continued, before his expression turned regretful when he registered what she’d said: “Even if I haven’t necessarily shown you that.”

 Tia rolled her eyes again: “Pretty much the opposite. You and your brothers are exactly the same as I remember you: aggressive, cocky, or just plain apathetic. Your brothers have gone out of their way to make life difficult to me, and you’ve sat back and let it happen, just like the three of you used to drive me to the urge of panic attacks, and you did nothing about it. So, yeah, I wouldn’t exactly say that you’ve shown you’ve changed.”

 Emerson had the good sense to look ashamed: “You’re right, I haven’t. I’m sorry.”

   Tia remained resolute when Emerson’s face dropped.

 She wasn’t sucked in by the act - and on the off chance it was genuine, it was nothing compared to the upset he’d caused her. The fact was, dating Emerson had been terrible for Tia’s mental health. It had driven her to therapy after the relationship ended, which had in time allowed her to see that although her issues were absolutely not Emerson’s fault, he exacerbated them so much that if she hadn’t dumped him when she had there would have been issues that he was to blame for.

 Had she missed him? Yes. Did she still miss him? That was harder to say.

 Emerson was a unique soul, and Tia had truly felt they had gotten along amazingly…he just never listened to her when she explained that there was something wrong. She had loved him, even though they’d been together for just six months, but that had been over four years ago now, and even though sometimes it made something in her chest clench when she looked at him, she honestly wasn’t sure if it was love or just an echo of the pain he’d caused her.

   “I want to show you that I have, though.” Emerson suddenly continued: his forlorn look being overtaken by one of determination: “I will show you that I have.”

 Tia wasn’t sure she believed him…but she found that, deep down, she wanted him to, even though she wasn’t going to admit it, so she just sighed: “I’m sure you’ll try, Emerson.”

 “I will.”

 “Okay, then.” Tia shrugged, still acting like she didn’t believe him - because she honestly didn’t, no matter what she wanted: “I’ve got work to do. You do what you want.”

   She walked away, leaving Emerson to plan whatever he was going to do to try and convince her that he was a better person that he used to be.

   I wonder if it will work…

[madamhatter]

💖

Send a 💖 and I’ll tell you what a relationship would be like with my character | accepting. | @more-than-a-princess

How likely they are to enter a relationship with them: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 (the low number is what she constantly tells herself, but the highest number is the truth.)

Would they…

Make the first move? Yes | No | Not applicable Say “I love you” first? Yes | No | Not applicable Cheat on them? Yes | No | Not applicable Be the jealous type? Yes | No | Not applicable Plan the dates? Yes | No | Not applicable Initiate the first kiss? Yes | No | Not applicable Remember anniversaries? Yes | No | Not applicable

BOLD WHAT APPLIES:

Their Relationship Is:

(childhood) friends to lovers | rivals to lovers | enemies to lovers | still just enemies | mutual pining | star crossed lovers | old married couple | perpetual honeymoon phase | stable and boring | stable but not boring | secret lovers | best friends hiding their feelings | and they were room classmates | friends with benefits | coworkers avoiding HR | one-sided affection | weird sexual tension | it’s complicated | toxic relationship | a secret affair | an actual dumpster fire | other ('this relationship will never survive because of what we'll become so I'm trying to save us from heartbreak' route and 'I'm trying everything in my power to not ruin this friendship but fuck this!' route and 'we can't have this but I'll fight for it' route and 'i knew love since I first saw your smile but I'm acting ignorant for our own good' route, and much more-. maybe this is why I have 'it's complicated' bolded.)

PUBLIC Displays of Affection:

hand holding (under the table) | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek ('platonically' a la European greeting) | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips |  cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection (until they graduate) | other (expect only formal interactions from Sophie's behalf. Sonia, however, has free range to be picked up by Sophie, cling and/or drag Sophie around. they do travel a lot together outside of HPA and in the city).

PRIVATE Displays of Affection:

hand holding | kiss on the hand | kiss on the cheek | kiss on the forehead | kiss on the lips (+ 'platonic' makeouts) | cuddling | hugging | affectionate messages or comments | pet names | pictures together | no displays of affection | other (slow dancing, baking together, breaking in exploring together, summoning and interviewing demons together, drinking together, maybe playing risque card games together, etc.)

Do they stay together?

yes, this is endgame ( Route A: Queen Regent and her queen consort -OR- Route B: We're taking hiatus from our parents' crap and living our lives together.) | yes but someone is gonna die tragically | something is keeping them apart | they part ways as friends (short-term before either of them charges after the other.) | they part ways as enemies | they’re on-again-off-again | they have a super messy breakup | it was just a fling | other

BONUS

What terrible pet names would they give each other?

By virtue of handling Sonia's forward and outwardly flirtatious moments, Sophie has dubbed her a 'ram' and will continue to do so later into their relationship and even in marriage. Both of their daughters frequently hear their mum complain under her breath about a 'ram' and anything regarding 'butting horns' and they both know who exactly she's talking about.

Though, Sophie's way more prone to use terms like "sweetheart" and "beloved" for Sonia, which the latter is pretty unique for the ship alone.

[aion-rsa]

Memento and the Significance of Sammy Jankis

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

“Have I told you about Sammy Jankis?”  

On March 16, 2001, Christopher Nolan announced himself to the world with the US release of Memento. Not that everyone heard him straight away.

Despite garnering rave reviews on the festival circuit, Nolan’s mind-bending jigsaw puzzle of a movie failed to land a major distribution deal in the States. In the end Newmarket Films, the independent production company bankrolling the project, took the plunge and distributed it themselves. 

Memento went on to earn more than $45 million at the US box office from a $4.5 million budget – a huge sum for an independent film.

Within five years, Nolan would move on to bigger and Bat-er things, but Memento remains among his most ambitious and effective films to date. A non-linear neo-noir that doubles up as a psychological thriller, it’s a film that continues to offer up subtle surprises on repeat viewing.

Guy Pearce takes centre stage with a mesmeric performance as Leonard, a man with short-term memory loss trying to track down his wife’s murderer. His pursuit is hampered by an inability to create new memories. 

It’s a similarly disorientating experience for viewers who must piece together Leonard’s story while it plays out in reverse order. Allied to this is the story of Sammy Jankis, played by Stephen Tobolowsky, which intersperses that of Leonard’s and plays out across a series of black-and-white scenes shown in chronological order. 

Narrated by Leonard, from an apparent recollection of a case he took during days as an insurance investigator, like our protagonist, Sammy also claims to be anterograde amnesiac – and that’s not all they have in common.

The film continues to alternate between the two narratives, with Leonard obsessively telling the tale of Sammy to anyone who will listen, before the two stories eventually converge in a climax where their shared plight becomes painfully apparent. 

Despite its modest budget, Memento boasted an impressive cast. Pearce had shot to mainstream fame with LA Confidential a few years earlier while Joe Pantoliano, who played Leonard’s helper/fixer Teddy, was an established figure in the business along with his co-star from The Matrix, Carrie Anne Moss.

There was even a role for future Sons of Anarchy star and Nolan favourite Mark Boone Junior as the underhand manager of the motel where Leonard lives. Tobolowsky more than held his own though. 

A seasoned character actor, by the time Memento came around he had enjoyed a memorable turn in Groundhog Day as the hilariously grating insurance agent Ned Ryerson. But it hadn’t been without its drawbacks in the years that followed.

Tobolowsky explained to Den of Geek: “The good news and bad news of being Ned in Groundhog Day is, guess what? You’re going to be Ned in Groundhog Day for the rest of your career. A lot of times when people are in comedic roles and want to do something more dramatic, it’s not available to them. Especially with something like Groundhog Day. An actor like me could get an opportunity to be in a drama but it might not work out because the audience would still see Ned Ryerson. Not this role. Sammy Jankis was so remarkably different.”

Landing the role of Jankis proved remarkably different too, starting with Nolan’s script, based on a short story written by his brother Jonathan called Memento Mori.

“My agent called me up and said John Papsidera, a casting director, wanted me to take a look at this script. John had a reputation for doing really unusual and generally good movies so I was very happy to. A standard first draft script is usually around 120 pages before a producer or director gets their hands on it. Because of the way it is formatted, one page should equal around one minute of screen time. I got the screenplay for Memento and it was like the Old and New Testament combined. I had never seen a script so big. I don’t remember the exact page numbers but it was in the 300s.”

Having seen his fair share of scripts over the years, Tobolowksy was apprehensive about reading what looked like the equivalent of “Gone with the Wind times ten.”

“I was thinking to myself ‘Oh God, this is going to be terrible. ’I even said to my wife, ‘ I know it’s going to be awful. It’s three times longer than normal but I’m going to read it just to be a good sport.’ I start reading and I’m halfway through and my wife comes in and I’m saying ‘damn it, damn it’ and she says ‘Terrible?’ and I say ‘No, so far really great but there’s no way these writers can continue at this level. It’s going to crap out by the end.”

“I get to the end and I throw the script across the room and my wife hears me, comes in, and says ‘Terrible?’ and I say ‘No, quite possibly the best script I’ve ever read.’” Nolan’s script was unlike any Tobolowsky had read, bringing the filmmaker’s vision for the movie to life in stunning detail.

“Chris and Jonathan wrote it in a way where they describe exactly what the camera is doing. Everything was perfectly described and you got a picture of the movie in your head, backwards and forwards in time. It was mind-blowing. I called up my agent immediately and said I had to meet Chris Nolan. I had to talk to him about Sammy Jankis.”

Despite few lines, the role of Sammy was a significant one. A part that much of the film’s plot ultimately rested on. Determined to make the role his own and shake off the ghost of Ned, Tobolowsky met with Nolan knowing he had a unique selling point when it came to the role. 

“I said ‘Chris, I didn’t come here to read for you. There’s nothing really for me to read, but this is what I want to tell you: this is quite possibly one of the best screenplays ever written. You are going to have actors all over this city that will want to be in this. However, I am going to be the only person that wants to be Sammy Jankis who has actually had amnesia.’ 

Chris said: ‘You’ve had amnesia?’ and I was like ‘Yes, and this is how it happened…’”

Tobolowsky explained that during surgery for a kidney stone, doctors had used an experimental drug in place of the standard anesthesia.

“I’m a big guy, like six foot three and 210 pounds, so they gave me a new drug that they had been using on bigger people. It means they are able to give instructions to the patient like to get up on the operating table, rather than have orderlies lifting them. The patient performs the task and then forgets it had happened. It worked the same with the pain.”

It led to what he describes as “drug induced amnesia” as the medication worked its way through his system. “I would be in my living room and then boom! It was like I was just born. The worst was when I was standing over the toilet and suddenly didn’t know if I was about to pee or if I had already peed. Fortunately, I heard my wife yell ‘you finished ten minutes ago!’”

The description of his ordeal was enough to convince Nolan he was the man for the job – but that was only the start of the challenge for Tobolowsky.

“It was the most difficult part I have ever played in my life. When you are an actor, the thing that moves you through a scene is your motivation. But when your character can’t remember anything, you don’t have that.”

In order to better portray Sammy’s damaged mind, he began by breaking down the character’s actions into behaviors marked as either old or new.

“There are the old, every day, behaviors we don’t think about like making breakfast. The rote nature of that behavior means you might do it quickly, almost mechanically. Then there is the newer stuff that takes longer because you are trying to understand what you are doing for the first time. 

“I had met people who have lost their memory, through Alzheimer’s or an accident, and noticed how these old behaviors were still familiar to them.”

This attention to detail was not lost on audiences.

In one small but memorable moment, Sammy greets Leonard at the door of his home with a look Leonard initially believes to be recognition and proof he is faking his condition.

It’s only later, when Leonard begins to understand his own plight, that Nolan has us revisit that same look, only this time with the realisation Sammy’s expression is instead one of desperate hope with that complex duality perfectly conveyed by Tobolowsky.

“That look was about putting out a message saying ‘I am sorry I may know you, so I don’t want to embarrass myself or you by acting like I don’t know you,’” Tobolowsky explains.

Later, after Leonard has rejected Sammy’s insurance claim, his wife, played by Frasier star Harriet Sansom Harris, decides to test the theory for herself by having him administer shot after shot of insulin, in the hope he will realise his mistake before she suffers a fatal overdose.

It’s then that we see Tobolowsky channeling the mechanical, emotionless actions of old, going through the motions of giving his wife the shot, as he has always done, oblivious to the tragic implications for both characters.

But Sammy is oblivious, with Tobolowsky’s emotionless, robotic approach to the repeated injections – something he has done for years – adding a layer of tragedy simultaneously to both characters.

“We all worked it out together in the moment. You let the truth emerge from the scene in the moment the camera is running.”

However, the true significance of Sammy in the wider story of Leonard only fully emerges later in the film after the latter’s revelatory encounter with Teddy.

It’s Teddy who reveals that he has been using Leonard to kill criminal associates. He claims to have tracked down the real “John G” behind the murder of Leonard’s wife years ago and, most tellingly, that Sammy’s story is actually Leonard’s, created to absolve himself of guilt. 

Which begs the question: Are Sammy and Leonard simply one and the same person? And, if so, did Leonard kill his wife by accident?

While some degree of ambiguity remains, Tobolowsky says such notions played into Nolan’s decision to include a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment where Sammy, holed up in an old folk’s home, is for a brief flash, replaced by Leonard. 

“Chris played with the idea on set. He said he had an idea for a moment where he would replace me with Guy. He wanted to try that out. That was determined while filming, the idea of the switch, which cements the idea of the two characters being one and the same. 

“Chris was mining the depths of his script in the moment, which takes nerve as an artist.  “

Reflecting on the experience, Tobolowsky only has positive memories of his experience on Memento, and the commitment shown by Pearce – particularly when it came to the tattoos that serve as reminders to Leonard of his past and forgotten present.

“Guy Pearce was just magnificent,” he says. “Every day, he would be in the chair getting those tattoos put on or removed. There would be long make-up breaks to get them adjusted perfectly and Chris would have it so that we would be shooting while Guy was in the makeup trailer.”

“Chris was a fabulous director to work with. Full of good humour and insight. The entire shoot was filled with energy and fun and that came from the top. I knew right away I was working with somebody very special. Chris takes chances.”

Tobolowsky holds his experience on Memento in the highest regard.

“When you do a lot of shows and movies, the idea is not how many you can squeeze in, it’s about which ones mattered to you.  The work you did that affected you as a person and an artist. Something like Memento is profoundly affecting with the questions it asks.

“What haunts me about Sammy Jankis was that idea that if you cannot remember what you do, both your sins and your blessings, what kind of hell are you in?  That final scene where Sammy is the old folk’s home, there is this question: Is he at peace? If you don’t know what is happening to you, what is your life? And what happens to Leonard? 

He also credits the film with changing his career for the better.

“After I did Memento, I was considered for all sorts of roles that I wouldn’t have been before. It broke the Groundhog Day mold and showed what I was capable of. 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

“There have been so many movies I have been in. Some terrible, some mediocre and a few classics. It always comes down to the script and director. Memento is one of the good ones. It’s a masterpiece. There’s nothing quite like it.”

The post Memento and the Significance of Sammy Jankis appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/30SAPVO

[jackie-talks-about-starkid]

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals (Rewatch #11, 11/20/2020)

YouTube publish date: December 23, 2018

Number of views on date of rewatch: 4, 394, 741

Original Performance Run: October 11 - November 4, 2018 at the Matrix Theater in Los Angeles

Ticket price: General Admission - $37, Priority - $69      Digital Ticket: $15      Rush Ticket via TodayTix: $18

Director: Nick Lang

Music and Lyrics: Jeff Blim

Book: Matt Lang and Nick Lang

Cast album price and availability: $9.99 on iTunes      Release date: December 23, 2018

Parody or original: original content, slightly inspired by Invasion of the Body Snatchers

Funding: $127,792 by 3,419 backers via Kickstarter (x)      Original Goal: $60,000

Main cast and characters

Paul - John Matteson

Emma - Lauren Lopez

Ted - Joey Richter

Charlotte - Jamie Lyn Beatty

Bill - Corey Dorris

Professor Hidgens - Robert Manion

Sam/General McNamara - Jeff Blim

Alice/Greenpeace Girl - Mariah Rose Faith

Musical numbers

     Act I

“The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals” Characters: Ensemble “ La Dee Dah Dah Day” Characters: Ensemble “What Do You Want, Paul?” Characters: Mr. Davidson and Paul “Cup of Roasted Coffee” Characters: Nora, Zoey, and Emma “Cup of Poisoned Coffee” Characters: Nora, Zoey, Hot Chocolate Boy, and Ensemble “Show Me Your Hands” Characters: Sam, Police Woman, Police Man “You Tied Up My Heart” Characters: Sam and Charlotte “Join Us (And Die)” Characters: Charlotte and Sam

     Act II

“Not Your Seed” Characters: Alice and friends “Show Stoppin’ Number” Characters: Professor Hidgens “America Is Great Again” Characters: General McNamara and Ensemble “Let Him Come” Characters: Ensemble “Let It Out” Characters: Paul and Ensemble “Inevitable” Characters: Paul, Ensemble, and Emma

Notable Notes:

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals won 12 2019 BroadwayWorld Los Angeles Awards (x)

Best Musical - Local

Choreography - Local: James Tolbert

Costume Design - Local: June Saito

Director of a Musical - Local: Nick Lang

Featured Actor in a Musical - Local: Robert Manion (Joey Richter and Corey Dorris were the other two nominees in this category)

Featured Actress in a Musical - Local: Jaime Lyn Beatty (Mariah Rose Faith was also nominated)

Leading Actor in a Musical - Local: Jon Matteson

Leading Actress in a Musical - Local: Lauren Lopez

Lighting Design - Local: Sarah Petty

Musical Director - Local: Matt Dahan

Scenic Design - Local: Corey Lubowich

Sound Design - Local: Ilana Elroi and Brian Rosenthal

Cultural Context: 2018

The #MeToo movement originated by Tarana Burke gains international popularity on social media

The revival of Queer Eye premiers on Netflix

Beyoncé headlines Coachella (#Beychella), becoming the first black woman to do so for the music festival

Megan Markle marries Prince Harry

Avengers: Infinity War opens in theaters on April 27th

Content Analysis:

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals has the most original concept of a musical I can think of for any piece of musical theatre, on Broadway or off. It is a musical that is focused on Paul, a guy who, believe it or not, doesn't like musicals, but due to a mysterious zombie-like infection brought to his town, Hatchetfield, finds himself stuck in an apocalyptic scenario in which anyone can be infected by a hive-mind that forces anyone it infects to behave as if they were in a musical. Because of this, the only people who actually perform musical numbers in the show are those around Paul who are infected with this musical disease, which makes each musical performance all the more dramatic, as well as allows for the acting of the main characters to be much more at the center of attention than they would normally be if the characters were expected to sing out their feelings as if the audience were watching them develop through the lens of a traditional musical.

The strong book and emphasis on the characterization of the small main ensemble highlights the incredibly strong performances by the actors. The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals is an interesting work in StarKid's repertoire in that the characters represented onstage are the most 'normal' characters the audience has seen in a StarKid universe. By now, the Starkid audience is used to seeing either parodies of well-known works, such as Harry Potter or the DC comic universe, inventive imaginings of other universes or periods of time, such as Starship or Firebringer. Yet, this production emphasizes the kind of characters and settings one sees in everyday life rather than the characters one sees in a sci-fi novel or fantasy world. The characters are played to represent a specific type of character often seen in media, and specifically mimic horror movie tropes with a comedic twist. For example, Professor Hidgens represents the off-kilter scholarly type, Paul is the everyday man dragged into the evil schemes of an unknown being's plot, Emma is the relatable final girl, etc. Yet, these character types and what they represent mirror the kind of everyday people we see in reality. Sure, they are written and played with comedic intent but their lives and place in the plot are human enough that the audience does not need to make the make-believe leap of connecting with non-human or glorified human characters-these people ARE human. Emma is an intelligent woman whose adventurous life turned into one full of grief for her sister and finds herself stuck in a terrible job in the hometown she tried so hard to get away from. Paul is a simple man playing the reluctant hero, but whose heart and genuine care for the people he is close to reminds us of the best of humanity when our society is constantly filled with examples of our worst behaviors. Bill just wants a relationship with the daughter he's drifting away from, Charlotte just wants her husband to love her, and Ted is there because, let's be honest here, we all know a Ted.

The characters also happen to be played by actors the audience would not expect to play that specific character type. For example, Joey Richter is known for playing lovable, funny, and relatable characters in StarKid's works, yet in The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, he plays the most morally repugnant yet incredibly hilarious characters in the show and he plays that part so well and so convincingly that it's hard to believe he's actually playing against his type. Jaime Lyn Beatty, like other StarKid works, performs a strong, comedic character type as she always does, yet her performance as Charlotte has the most dynamic internal life of any character the StarKid audience has seen her play.

The most notable performance comes from Jon Matteson who plays Paul. His role as the protagonist, who is onstage nearly the entire, time holds the piece and the universe of the story together so perfectly. His dry delivery and incredible comedic timing work so well for the character that it feels as though you can go up to Matteson right after the finale and expect to talk to Paul himself because he embodies the role so well. Matteson’s performance feels so natural and honest that it's heartbreaking, even for the most fanatic musical theatre nerd, to watch him realize that he's fallen victim to the Apotheosis and turns into the thing he hates the most-a musical theatre character.

A horror-comedy musical is a hard thing to pull off, especially on a budget that was almost entirely crowdfunded, and even harder to execute successfully, which is why the only few commercial horror-musical comedy staples I can think of at the moment art Little Shop of Horrors, Sweeney Todd, and to a certain extent, Heathers. Yet the consistent hard work that goes into creating a StarKid musical and the unique environment that process produces makes anything seem possible and destined for success. The level of creativity going into this production company and the work they create as a team is something that just cannot be done with traditional musical theatre as seen on Broadway because of such large overhead and emphasis on creating a profit rather than creating art. There have been and will continue to be many different creative teams making unique musicals for the general public, but taking into account global accessibility for all demographics and concept originally, The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals proves StarKid continues to take the lead and doesn’t need the exclusion of any demographic in order to do so.

P.S. Happy Black Friday! Don’t forget to get in line to buy your Wiggly dolls ;)

[laffranchieeclectique]

Celle qui ne se croyait pas faite pour ce monde

Cela me ramène même encore plus loin, dans ma tendre enfance, lorsque ma mère me passait un gant d’eau froide sur le visage lorsque mes pleurs ne s’arrêtaient pas. J’avoue ne pas tout à fait parvenir à me rappeler si cela fonctionnait immédiatement. Un vague souvenir me dit qu’il y avait cet effet de choc qui effectivement me faisait plus ou moins “revenir à mes esprits”. Mais en réalité, cela calmait les symptômes, mais la cause n’était pas du tout traitée. Je n’en veux pas non plus à ma mère pour ça, elle faisait avec son éducation. Même si il aurait été préférable qu’elle se pose un peu plus de questions, pour éviter notamment de reproduire ce qu’elle avait déjà mal vécu de sa propre éducation, mais ma mère est encore cette petite fille blessée dont personne à date n’a réussi à expliquer la douleur. A cette même époque, je me souviens aussi de ma tante, la soeur de ma mère, très différente d’elle et bien plus affirmée, qui ne comprenait absolument pas ma détresse. Je ne me rappelle pas de ses mots, mais cela se rapprochait certainement de ceux de mon père. Avec autant d’adultes voulant pourtant mon bien dans l’absolu mais m’envoyant le message que ce que je ressentais n’était pas normal, n’était pas compris, était incompréhensible, comment penser qu’on a sa place dans ce monde. Alors, oui, je l’ai pensé, longtemps, souvent, et pas uniquement pensé en réalité, je l’ai dit, crié, en me sentant transpercée, aspirée par un vide absolu. “Je ne suis pas faite pour ce monde” est la terrible idée qui surgit encore mais désormais de manière tellement plus fugace dans les pires moments d’émotion destructrice. Elle est souvent accompagnée de sa encore plus impitoyable comparse, l’envie de fuir ce monde, et je vous laisse comprendre la bien sombre idée derrière ces mots. Qu’il est terrible de ressentir ça. Mais désormais, je SAIS que cela n’est pas la réalité. Qu’il s’agit d’une ombre que j’ai longtemps laissé prendre le dessus sur qui je suis vraiment, sans vraiment la laisser gagner heureusement. Mais cela n’est pas moi, juste ma peur. Ah, et pour la petite histoire, j’ai littéralement vu cette ombre, sortir de moi, sur la droite de ma tête, un jour de crise où j’avais réussi à prendre le dessus et que j’étais partie faire un footing dans la nature et que j’étais allée chercher une force en moi très loin car j’étais au bout de mes forces (que je croyais en tout cas) mais m’étais mis en tête que si je terminais la boucle de footing le problème ayant déclenché la crise allait trouver une issue positive. Il faut dire que ce problème me tenait très à coeur (mon histoire d’amour était en péril, et rien ne compte plus que l’amour pour moi), et que cela m’a donné plus de courage que jamais, que la symbolique de ce défi a fonctionné, et qu’elle a en plus eu la vertu de littéralement me montrer ma dark side. C’est depuis cet épisode que je l’appelle “mon ombre”, avant je ne savais pas qu’elle existait. Amusant d’ailleurs, j’ai vu passé ici la notion de “shadow” selon Jung et la sorcellerie. Comme quoi, je ne suis certainement pas la seule à avoir rencontré une ombre lors d’un état de conscience modifié. Elle n’est pas tout à fait partie ce jour là, elle s’est encore manifestée récemment malgré toute ma bonne volonté, mais désormais je sais la renvoyer dans ses filets, je ne lui fais plus confiance, je ne l’écoute plus, et ainsi elle perd tout son pouvoir et disparait peu à peu ! Désormais, je suis celle qui pensait (le passé est important) ne pas être faite pour ce monde. Je suis celle qui aime ce monde, aussi imparfait soit-il, celle qui sait que ce serait drôlement c** de rater toutes les merveilleuses expériences qu’il me réserve, et celle qui est prête à affronter les difficultés à traverser de la manière la plus constructive possible tout en acceptant de le faire avec mes moyens du moment. Je reste hypersensible mais je le gère mieux, tellement mieux qu’avant ! Et je continue d’y travailler, avec à la fois sérénité et joie de voir le chemin parcouru. Merci spécial à moi, parce que ouais, j’le fait l’boulot bord**, et aussi à mon cher et tendre qui bien que me rendant dingue de manière douloureuse parfois, est celui qui m’a aidée à trouver le plus de clés pour avancer sur ce chemin (bien plus que tous les psy qui m’ont suivie depuis presque 20 ans maintenant !) Aujourd’hui, je n’ai jamais été aussi alignée avec qui je suis et qui je veux être, et même si le travail n’est jamais vraiment fini, ça fait un bien de fou !!

[mautadite]

march book round up

hey march fucking sucked and april is probably going to continue to do so but hey i read 15 books!!! i haven’t been in the mood to write my usual book by book round up (this is already 5 days late) but i’ll make a stab at it now.

a hundred little lies - jon wilson ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ m/m romance in the wild west! about a single father who has tried hard to put his criminal past behind him, until his old lover/partner in crime comes moseying into town. this had some really creative story telling and writing that really made the characters shine! i usually don’t like ‘old love rekindled’ type romances but this was so good.

the ghost slept over - marhsall thornton ⭐️⭐️⭐️ m/m romcom type romance about a guy whose ex dies and leaves him a boat load of money. he starts developing feelings for his ex’s lawyer but oh no! his ex’s ghost is haunting him lol. this was cute, pretty funny (which is something thornton does consistently well). but the wider plot was kinda meh, some of the jokes were dumb, and the ending was weak. good overall, i’d say. 

the a.i. who loved me - alyssa cole ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ really adorable and creative romance in a future scifi world between a taxi driver recovering from a traumatic accident and her new cyborg neighbour. it was a good mix of lighthearted and serious scifi world-building, and i loved all the twists. it was the first full-cast audiobook iv’e ever listened to, and i liked it for the most part.

the is how you lose the time war - amal el mohtar & max gladstone ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ f/f scifi enemies to lovers romance during wartime, and i fucking loved it. beautiful beautiful writing. a lot of stylistic turns of phrases and symbolism, and i feel like... i don’t know, this could have easily NOT worked for me, but it really really did. i loved these characters and their story and how it was written.

untouchable - talia hibbert ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ i don’t read a lot of m/f romance but talia hibbert is quickly becoming my go-to. she’s SO GOOD. a single father of two comes back to his hometown, and hires a childhood acquaintance as his nanny. all the usual sparks fly. the beauty of this isn’t in the plot, it’s in the characters, their unique personalities and problems, and how it’s so easy to see yourself in them. i over how she writes about black women and mental illness, it’s so so good, and so real.

the winter duke - claire eliza bartlett ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ political intrigue, a far flung icy kingdom, a terrible murderous family and the girl who suddenly becomes the ruler. this took a while for me to warm up to it; i usually don’t like court politics and stuff in books, it’s not where my heart is. but the mystery and romance really made this pick up for me (cute f/f teen stuff). 

that kind of guy - talia hibbert ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ more great romance from hibbert, this time friends to lovers who have to pretend to date. also there’s only one bed. GREAT TROPES. one’s a 40 year old woman who’s recovering from the emotional abuse of her mother and ex-husband, the other’s the former village bicycle who’s coming to terms with his demisexuality. really great characters and a wonderful story.

the spectred isle - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1920s paranormal m/m romance, post-war, lots of feelings and magic, and a great opposites attract, sorta-enemies to lovers. these characters gave me a lot of good mushy feelings.

the prisoner of zenda - anthony hope ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ very charming, sharp and witty, which i usually don’t look for in 19th adventure century novels. it was pretty funny. i really liked the villains, and my favourite quote is about one of them:  For my part, if a man must needs be a knave, I would have him a debonair knave. [...] It makes your sin no worse, as I conceive, to do it a la mode and stylishly.

the henchmen of zenda - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ an m/m retelling of the above book, which tbh i only read because i wanted to read this one. lots of adventure and excitement, “villain” pov. it’s not quite romance, but there was a lot of affection and friendship and it was honestly just a good time.

a memory called empire - arkady martine ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ I FUCKING LOVED THIS. science fiction, languages, linguistics, imperialism, queer characters... there was just SO much good in this, so much wonderful world building, so richly written and delivered. and it was just... idk, at once very new, but also reminiscent of all the things i love about scifi. the identity porn was GREAT, as was the peripheral f/f romance. this might be my fave book so far this year.

a charm of magpies series - k.j. charles ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ re-read. i read this series last year and really really enjoyed it, and felt into the mood for a revisit. i really love these characters ;;

red, white and royal blue - casey mcquiston ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ the cute m/m romance everyone was talking about last year, between the president’s son and a fake prince of england. it definitely lived up to the hype. i can go either way on stories involving royals and rich people, it’s very easy to annoy me with it, but this book did a good job of humanising the characters and making them relatable.

and that’s it for march. i’m already four books deep into april, trying to read a lot of lesbian romance because it’s the number one soul soother and after the march i’ve had, i need it. i’m pretty fortunate in this my job hasn’t been interrupted, and i’m working from home, and i should still have a goodly amount of reading time. stay safe out there guys. <3

[vexedtonightmares]

La Fin Des Temps Chapter 11 (Elu Hogwarts AU)

Mardi 10:40 - “I have to take care of something”

Lucas couldn’t stop staring at Eliott, and Eliott couldn’t stop staring at him. If he wasn’t careful, this was really going to get in the way of his studies. He glanced down at his empty worksheet. Well, more than it had already. Neither of them had left the Room of Requirement until Monday morning, when they’d had to because of classes. It had been painful, leaving the haven Lucas knew was going to disappear the minute they left. Even more painful was the fact that they hadn’t been able to sneak in any alone time all day, friends asking too many questions and not leaving them for even a moment. Fortunately, and surprisingly, none of them had even considered the possibility that Lucas and Eliott had been together all weekend. Actually, now that he thought about it, none of them had said anything about Eliott being missing at all. Yann nudged his side, not for the first time during their lesson, concern shining in his eyes.

“I’m starting to understand Imane’s issues with your work ethic, man. I thought you were in the library working all weekend?” he asked. It wasn’t accusatory, but he wasn’t going to let Lucas get away with the same lie he’d been telling since Lucas arrived back in the dormitory Monday morning.

“I was working,” Lucas argued, “Just not on Charms. I had so much shit to do for Potions and Arithmancy.”

“I still don’t understand why you chose Arithmancy over literally any other subject. It’s math, dude.” Yann shook his head incredulously. Lucas shrugged. He really didn’t mind math all that much. The numbers made sense to him, much more sense than pretending they could see the future with some tea leaves like the girls did in Divination. Though, he suspected the only reason they’d all continued Divination was to be in the same class together.

“Where’s Arthur?” Lucas realized suddenly, looking around the room before his gaze landed on Eliott’s again and he blushed involuntarily.

Yann simply looked at him like he was insane. “Dueling club captain? Remember? He had some meeting with the headmistress or something. I swear, Lucas, what’s up with you these days?”

Lucas had to try very hard to pay attention to Yann, eyes moving away from Eliott reluctantly. “What do you mean?”

“This, Friday, everything.” Yann rolled his eyes, snapping a finger in front of his face to get his focus. “Where’s your head at?”

“The same place it’s always at,” Lucas said defensively, but Yann pushed on.

“I’m not buying that. For weeks you’ve been in some sort of a daze. You ditch us all the time without excuse, or say you’re going to the library and don’t show up again for hours, even days. Friday at the meeting you just disappeared and I didn’t see you again until Monday morning. You didn’t respond to texts, Instagram messages, anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas tried.

Yann shook his head. “I don’t need an apology, I just want to know what’s going on with you. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course,” Lucas said without hesitation. Because he could, he just wasn’t sure he was ready. He didn’t even know what he and Eliott were, if they were dating or what, and he didn’t know if Eliott wanted everyone to know about them. Yann waited for Lucas to continue, so he did, just maybe not with the words Yann wanted. “There’s nothing, though. I swear. I’ve just been a bit out of it, I guess.”

Yann looked determined to press the subject further, but Lucas was saved by their professor asking them to pair up to practice jinxes. As much as Lucas wanted to pair up with Eliott, it would be odd for him to ditch Yann, so he watched helplessly as Eliott and Ian, another Ravenclaw in their year, moved to the other side of the room to practice. Yann followed his gaze.

“Did Arthur tell you that Eliott pulled another disappearing act?” Yann asked as they got in position. Ah, there it was. Frankly, he had been beginning to worry they hadn’t noticed. Lucas fired off a jinx, which Yann blocked with ease.

“No, he didn’t.” Lucas tried to sound uninterested, hoping Yann wouldn’t draw the connection between his and Eliott’s disappearances.

Yann sent a jinx Lucas’ way, just barely missing him and hitting the chair behind him. “Yeah, no one heard from him this weekend either. Did you?”

“Hmm?” Lucas asked. “Did I what?”

“Hear from him?” Yann prompted incredulously.

Maybe if he played dumb Yann would stop talking about Eliott. “Hear from who?”

“Eliott?”

“What about Eliott?”

“Dude, have you been listening? He was missing all weekend, even at the Quidditch match.”

“Huh, weird.”

“So you didn’t hear from him then?”

“Hear what?”

“Where he went?”

“Who?”

“Jesus, Lucas,” Yann nearly yelled in exasperation. This gave Lucas a great opening to hit him with a Jellylegs jinx, one that he’d perfected nonverbally. “Fuck!” Yann exclaimed as Lucas grinned victoriously.

“Sorry,” Lucas shrugged, not sorry at all.

“You little shit, that’s why you were acting so dumb,” Yann laughed, “You were trying to distract me, huh?”

Lucas looked around the room innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yann smiled at him and it was like everything was normal again, like it had been before Eliott had come in and turned Lucas’ life upside down. He never wanted Eliott out of his life, but it was nice for that moment to remember how to be friends with Yann without feeling the weight of things he was hiding from his best friend. The weight came back a moment later, of course, but Lucas ignored it to the best of his ability, focusing instead on blocking Yann and sending more jinxes his way.

A half hour later, when they left the Charms room, Lucas felt Eliott slip past him and put something in his hand as he passed by. Smooth fucker.

“What’s that?” Yann asked, and Lucas’ hand clenched on the small piece of paper he held until he realized Yann was looking curiously at his neck, right behind his ear. His other hand flew up to the area, hoping Eliott hadn’t left any visible marks there. Yann blinked a few times and then shrugged. “That was weird, I could have sworn there was a hedgehog…”

Lucas nearly breathed a sigh of relief. He’d forgotten about Eliott’s magical drawings. He didn’t know what Eliott had used to draw them on, but they avoided him every time he tried to wash them off, moving across his body whenever he got close. With his luck they’d be there forever, not that he minded. Lucas laughed and raised his eyebrows. “And I’m the one being weird?”

Yann rolled his eyes and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, I’ve gotta get to Muggle Studies. See you at lunch?”

“See you at lunch,” Lucas repeated before heading off in the opposite direction, waiting until Yann was out of sight before unfolding the piece of paper in his hand. It was a two part drawing, the right side showing a raccoon alone in a bathroom, the left side showing a raccoon and hedgehog holding hands together in the bathroom. Lucas almost scoffed at how small the hedgehog was-- he really wasn’t that small-- but was more overcome by appreciation for Eliott. On the back of the paper Eliott’s unique and untidy scrawl had written out ‘Lucas no. 1040 skips potions with Eliott no. 1432’.

Would Imane kill him? Yes, undoubtedly. Did he care, in that moment? Not one bit.

But where did Eliott want to meet him? He flipped the paper back over to look at the drawing, grin spreading over his face as he realized where to go.

As predicted, Eliott was leaning against one of the sinks casually as Lucas entered the bathroom Eliott had followed him into weeks prior. Eliott was smoking a cigarette, changing its smell with his wand every second or so. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said, blowing out smoke.

Lucas took his first few steps slow, then, unable to help himself, closed the rest of the distance between the two of them in a few long strides, smile so wide he thought his face might crack. Eliott cupped his face the instant they met, bringing their lips together in a heartstopping kiss.

Lucas wrapped his arms around Eliott’s neck, rising up on his toes to reach Eliott better. Eliott, ever the quick thinker, flipped them so Lucas was pressed against the sinks and lifted him up onto the countertop, positioning himself between Lucas’ legs. “This works,” Lucas murmured against Eliott’s lips, pressing their foreheads together.

“You know,” Eliott began, playing with Lucas’ tie, “This looks really great on you, but it’s getting in the way, don’t you think?”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”

Eliott grinned and undid his own tie, leaving Lucas to do the same, discarding his robes and jumper as well. Naturally, this was the one day they both decided to wear full uniforms. Eliott unbuttoned a few of the top buttons on Lucas’ shirt as well, placing his palm against Lucas’ chest before leaving a trail of kisses from his neck to his heart. Lucas was barely breathing, breathing in gasps, one hand clenched in Eliott’s hair, the other gripping the sink beside him.

He lowered his head and brought Eliott’s face to his, letting their mouths meet once more. Nothing would ever compare to this feeling, to the taste of Eliott’s lips, his tongue, his everything. If it wasn’t a completely reckless and terrible idea to strip down right then and there, where anyone could walk in, Lucas would have in an instant.

Blinking at the thought, Lucas pulled back, muttering as Eliott moved his mouth back down to Lucas’ collarbone. “Eliott, Eliott, stop for a minute.”

Eliott stopped immediately, looking at Lucas with the expression of a confused puppy. It was adorable, but Lucas didn’t have time to appreciate it fully. He pointed to the door. “We should… I don’t know. Anyone could walk in.”

Eliott’s brows creased further. “Didn’t you see the out of order sign I put on the door?”

He hadn’t paid attention to much of anything as he’d hurried to the bathroom, tunnel vision on Eliott, even from corridors away. “Um… no,” he admitted.

“Well, I put one there,” Eliott laughed.

“Do you really think it will work?”

“Let’s find out.” He pulled Lucas in by the neck and crashed their lips together. Any worries Lucas had were immediately obliterated from his mind. Eliott’s out of order sign was sure to do the trick. Eliott unbuttoned Lucas’ shirt a bit further, sliding the sleeves off his shoulders so he could kiss them. As he did so, Lucas repeated the gesture, leaving a kiss on Eliott’s chest with each button he undid.

Eliott let out a soft gasp. “You’re gonna fucking kill me if you keep doing that.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Lucas’ lips twisted into a cocky smirk.

“No. Not now, not ever.” Lucas grinned as Eliott brought Lucas’ face up to his, exploring each others mouths like there was nothing else in the world left to explore. To Lucas, there wasn’t. Except perhaps the rest of Eliott’s body, the few lines and muscles he had left to commit to memory. Eliott’s hand brushed his cheekbone and Eliott pulled away from him just enough to exhale a small, breathy laugh.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Lucas teased.

Eliott laughed a bit harder. “Yes, actually.”

Lucas spun around from his seat on the countertop, glancing into the mirror. “Wait, really?” He studied his reflection, catching a glimpse of a raccoon taking the hand of a hedgehog and pulling him out of view. Lucas couldn’t help but laugh himself.

“These little guys are never going away, I hope you know what you’ve done,” Lucas said seriously. Eliott leaned down to brush his lips against Lucas’ shoulder, the hedgehog resting there blushing as he did so.

He tilted his head back up, supermodel eyes full of humor and searing into Lucas. “You think I didn’t do that on purpose? You’ll be old and wrinkled and gray and these two will pop up on your bald head when you least expect it.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll ever go bald,” Lucas scoffed.

“I mean, with all that hairspray…”

“Shut up!” Lucas pressed his hands to Eliott’s chest. “Besides, you told Yann you liked it.”

“I mostly just like you,” Eliott confessed. “Everything about you.”

Lucas blushed against his will. Eliott really needed to stop feeding his ego. At the same time, he hoped Eliott would never stop. “Wait a minute,” he giggled, “Your amortentia… the last thing was my hairspray wasn’t it?”

Now it was Eliott’s turn to go red. “No.”

Lucas laughed harder. “It so was.”

“I don’t know where you’d get that preposterous idea.”

“Mmmm, sure.”

Eliott looked down with a smile, glancing back up at Lucas through his eyelashes. “Besides, you with your cigarette smoke, ink, paint, rain… not very subtle.” Lucas pretended to be offended, hands dancing up and down Eliott’s mostly bare chest.

“So what, I had a crush on you. Turned out all right for me, didn’t it?”

“Awww, you had a crush on me? That’s so sweet.” Eliott’s eyes crinkled at the sides the way Lucas loved.

He shoved Eliott away playfully. “Oh shut up, you had a crush on me too.”

Eliott grabbed onto Lucas’ hand, and Lucas pulled him back in close. “You’re right,” Eliott admitted, “You’re just either the world’s most oblivious person, or I need to up my flirting game.”

“I’m not oblivious,” Lucas huffed.

“Then why did I have to wait four whole weeks to kiss you?” Eliott wasn’t whining exactly, but there was a neediness to his playful tone that Lucas was getting very turned on by, if he was being completely honest with himself.

“Maybe you were the oblivious one,” Lucas suggested. Eliott wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. “Me? Oblivious? Never.”

The look he gave Lucas reminded him of Ouba’s face when she wanted treats, and it was more endearing than Lucas cared to admit. “Fine, fine, we’re both oblivious, useless, disaster gays, blah blah blah.”

“I’m pan, technically,” Eliott pointed out.

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me.”

Eliott didn’t wait a single second longer, kissing Lucas again. And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Lucas wasn’t entirely sure how long they sat there, him on the counter, Eliott between his legs, kissing like the world was about to end. They only stopped when Lucas’ phone buzzed, jarring them back to the present. He was stunned to find that he had multiple messages from his friends through Instagram.

monvoisintuturo: Lulu, at least give a heads up if you’re going to skip potions

basile_simple: He’s missing again? We need to put a bell on him or something

y4z4s: What are you guys talking about? I saw him going to class after Charms

monvoisintuturo: Well he clearly didn’t make it…

y4z4s: Should we still wait for you for lunch, Lucas?

monvoisintuturo: I wonder if Eliott knows where he is

basile_simple: Oh yeah, man, add Eliott to the chat

monvoisintuturo: I can’t, he doesn’t follow me. Only Lulu can

basile_simple: I’m still confused by that

y4z4s: By what?

basile_simple: Eliott following Lucas!

y4z4s: Oh, Lucas said it was some sort of bet or something

basile_simple: That’s anticlimactic   

Lucas checked the time quickly and realized lunch was about to start. Fuck, he really needed to go. Had he and Eliott really spent the entire period kissing in the not-so out of order bathroom? It wasn’t the worst way to spend his time, he supposed.

He started buttoning his shirt back up in a rush, catching Eliott’s confused gaze as he hopped down from the counter. Shirt, jumper, robes, tie, fuck, where were all his clothes?

“Lunch,” he said by way of explanation.

Eliott still looked confused. “And…”

“The boys will kill me if I go MIA again. I’m sure Imane is about ready to kill me already.” He shivered at the thought, hoping Imane and Harriet had at least been able to vent to one another about their respective potions partners.

Finally dressed, he rushed to the door, turning around when he realized Eliott wasn’t following, hadn’t even redressed himself yet. “Are you coming?”

Eliott blushed a violent shade of scarlet. “I have to take care of something.”

“What-- oh,” Lucas began, faltering when he saw the awkward way Eliott was positioned. He laughed a little bit and Eliott rolled his eyes. “Unless you want to take care of it for me?” Eliott suggested, and it was Lucas’ turn to blush. In truth, he did want that, more than anything, but he also wanted to live long enough to do it again, so he really had to go.

“See you in the Great Hall,” Lucas said a bit breathlessly. Eliott smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing to Lucas.

“See you in the Great Hall.” Eliott didn’t move, gaze still fastened onto Lucas’ face. Lucas didn’t move an inch either, wishing to stay in the bathroom with Eliott for just one more second. His phone buzzed again, and they broke eye contact.

“I’m going to go now,” Lucas said, unconvincingly, but he willed his feet to carry him the rest of the way to the door and they did. He cast one more glance back at Eliott, memorizing the way he smiled back at Lucas, tucking the memory away to think of when they inevitably had to part for the day.

Before he could lose all his self control and run back into Eliott’s embrace, Lucas pushed the door open, tearing away the out of order sign as he did so, throwing it into a bin as he rushed to the Great Hall.

Luckily or unluckily for him, all his friends were already seated when he walked in. Eliott and Daphne’s seating arrangement protest had been embraced by nearly the entire school, though both the girls and the boys were sitting together at the Gryffindor table today. Arthur was the first to notice him walk in, scooting over so Lucas could take a seat between himself and Manon.

Imane wasn’t glaring daggers at him as he approached, but analyzing him carefully through narrowed eyes. Her stare was so intense that he couldn’t meet her eyes, feeling a bit like she was drawing some conclusions about him that he wasn’t sure he wanted her to draw. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything, just kept staring.

He tried to act casual as he sat down, but he couldn’t help but notice everyone had stopped talking, eyes on him. Manon was the first to speak, bless her, not even mentioning his lateness or anything out of the ordinary. “So, Lucas, did you hear about the--”

She was cut off by Daphne, who smiled at Lucas apologetically. “You know that the opposite house dress week isn’t until next week, right?”

Lucas furrowed his brows. He did know this, why was she bringing it up? He nodded slowly, carefully.

“Oh, cool, well then, um,” she continued, glancing briefly at Emma out of the corner of her eye, “Why are you wearing a Ravenclaw tie?”

Putain.

He tried not to look down at his tie-- or, Eliott’s, rather-- as he floundered for an excuse. “Obviously I know that your dress thingy isn’t until next week. But I thought, hey, what if some people don’t know about it yet? If I wear the wrong tie, people will ask questions, and if they ask questions, I’ll get to explain to them the inter-house unity club dress challenge, or whatever you want to call it. That way more people will participate.”

Daphne squealed and leaned over to him, pulling him into an awkward hug over the table. “Lucas! You’re the best! Why didn’t I think of doing that?”

Everyone else seemed less enthusiastic about his response. Manon and Imane exchanged a glance,-- he didn’t even want to know what that meant, though he could probably guess-- Emma narrowed her eyes once before shrugging and accepting his excuse without argument, Basile and Alexia simply looked confused, Yann looked like he wanted to believe him, and Arthur seemed to be moments away from solving a puzzle. Lucas hoped Arthur’s puzzle wasn’t close to the real reason he was wearing the wrong tie. Eliott’s tie.

Fuck, Eliott would be there any minute. Lucas had to find a way to head him off before he could make the situation worse. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to message Eliott, thankful his friends had mostly gone back to their own conversations.

lucallemant: Don’t come to the Great Hall

srodulv: i’m almost there… what’s wrong?

lucallemant: Look at your tie   

Lucas bounced his knee under the table as he waited for Eliott to respond. Just their luck. He wasn’t totally opposed to the idea of telling his friends about them, but they didn’t even know he was gay. Plus, this wasn’t the most ideal setting, and he didn’t know what to call his relationship with Eliott, if he could even call it a relationship. In all their talking, somehow it hadn’t come up.

“Where did you get the tie?” Arthur asked, and Lucas bumped his knee under the table in surprise, flipping his phone over.

“I, uh, found it,” he mumbled distractedly, trying to appear nonchalant.

Clearly, neither Yann nor Arthur were convinced. Yann pointed out, “You were wearing your Gryffindor tie when you left Charms.”

“Yeah, where did you go, anyway? Imane looked ready to kill when you didn’t show up,” Arthur chimed back in.

“I felt… sick,” Lucas tried. The boys raised their eyebrows.

“Sick?” Arthur repeated slowly. Lucas nodded.

“I think something didn’t sit right with me during breakfast, and, you know.” He shot them all a meaningful glance. Arthur choked on his food and looked Lucas up and down once.

“Dude did you shit your pants?”

“What? No!” Lucas exclaimed incredulously, breaking into nervous laughter. “But you can see why I skipped potions, then.”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Do what you gotta do, man. Although, it would have been funny to see Rigaux’s reaction if you shit yourself in her class.”

Lucas couldn’t help but laugh along with his friends, shoving Arthur playfully. This explanation seemed to do it for them, though, and Lucas took their new distraction with Basile’s weird eating habits as an excuse to check his phone. He had three new messages from Eliott.

srodulv: merde

srodulv: i’m guessing our friends noticed?

srodulv: what did you say?  

It warmed his heart a bit, to see Eliott say ‘our friends’ instead of ‘your friends’. He was glad that Eliott considered the girls and boys to be his friends as well. He knew they felt the same about Eliott.

lucallemant: I made up some bs excuse about helping raise inter house unity club awareness. Not sure if everyone bought it, but they let the subject drop

srodulv: oh

srodulv: not that now is the best time to… explain things, but do you not want your friends to know about us?

Lucas noted the shift from our to your. Did Eliott really think Lucas would be ashamed of him? It was too absurd to even consider.

lucallemant: No, it’s not that, I just didn’t know if you did

lucallemant: Plus none of them know I’m, you know…

srodulv: gay?

lucallemant: Ha ha, yeah, that

srodulv: no rush or anything, i don’t want you to feel pressured…

Lucas chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t feel pressured at all, and maybe that’s why he made a split second decision.

lucallemant: I think I want them to know

srodulv: really?

lucallemant: I mean, maybe not today, but soon. This weekend…?

srodulv: :)

lucallemant: Yeah?

srodulv: yeah. does this mean i get to call you my boyfriend?

Lucas had to try very, very, hard to keep from reacting in the slightest, but he was almost positive a bright blush had spread over his face. Boyfriend. That was new, but Lucas found that he quite liked it.

lucallemant: Boyfriend, huh?

srodulv: …?

lucallemant: I think I’d like that, mon mec

srodulv: yeah?

lucallemant: Yeah.

srodulv: <3

lucallemant: Stop that, I have a reputation to uphold

srodulv: <333333

Lucas rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile working its way over his face. Eliott would be the death of him. Manon nudged his side gently. “You good?” Her face looked more concerned than a smile usually warranted. Did he really smile so little that this sign of happiness made her wary?

“I’m great,” he answered truthfully, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Her brows twitched. “Ouais?”

He nearly laughed. He’d gotten so used to only speaking French with Eliott that he’d nearly forgotten it was his and Manon’s thing first. “Ouais,” he assured her.

Lucas tried to turn his attention back to his other friends, avoiding the small smile that twitched at the corner of Manon’s mouth, basically confirming she knew more than she was letting on. “Justin Bieber? Seriously? Where is this kid, I need to have a word with him about his music taste,” Arthur was ranting.

“What?” Lucas asked. Yann showed Lucas his phone screen and Lucas nearly choked in surprise.

That was how they were playing this, then? Lucas tuned out the rest of the conversation, searching for a different song. They really were going to be the most annoying couple ever, even if no one knew it yet. Lucas really couldn’t find it in himself to care one bit, because Eliott was his boyfriend. Eliott Demaury. His boyfriend. God, he was so happy.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

AO3

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[skelenyxx]

Chapter 1 - Old Friends, New Drama ~ It’s Death or Victory

"Where, where will we stand when all the lights go out across these city streets? Where were you when all of the embers fell? I still remember them. Covered in ash. Covered in glass. Covered in all my friends. I still think of the bombs they built." ~ The Only Hope For Me Is You

**********

The sound of my alarm filled my ears as I awoke. I opened my eyes instantly and reached under my pillow, snatching my phone and switching the alarm off.

I smiled as I noticed the date. December 21, 2012. Today was the day. Today was the day that I would finally get to see them, after three years.

I crawled out of bed and started going through my closet, trying to decide what to wear. I eventually decided on a plain purple tee and black jeans. After I had showered and dressed, I applied a small amount of makeup and grabbed my bag. I smiled as I looked in the mirror. I smoothed my long, straight blonde hair and pushed my bangs to the side. My thin line of eyeliner accented my blue eyes perfectly and my outfit was plain and simple. Perfect.

I left my apartment with a smile on my face.

As I walked down the LA streets toward the coffee shop, the morning sun peaking between the tall buildings of the city, I began to think about how all this had come to be and how I had ended up with such amazing friends.

It had started in High School in Jersey. I was a Freshman, taking an Honors math class (like the geek I am). One day I got partnered with a quiet senior guy with dark hair and swirling hazel eyes. He told me his name was Gerard.

Somehow, even though we were practically polar opposites, we became close friends. I was some innocent goody two shoes Freshman girl and he was a dorky Senior boy with few friends and eyes that showed that there was more darkness inside than he let out. He was my first and probably one of my only friends in high school.

Obviously, he graduated that year. But he didn't go off to college. He decided to stay home and help his mom and brother out. It turned out that his brother, Mikey, went to school with me as well and was only two years older than me. He and I also became good friends and on weekends, Gerard, Mikey and I would all hang out, playing video games, talking about comic books, or just generally causing mischief around the old town. We had some good times, and I feel like us being friends was the only thing that kept us each from falling apart from the inside out.

I was in my senior year when Gerard told me he was starting a band. I was so excited for him. He always loved to talk about art and music. I always told him he needed to do something creative for a career because, honestly, I couldn't picture him doing anything else with his life.

One day, after he had gotten the lineup of the band, he invited me to come out to see one of their practices and meet the rest of the members. I had spent the whole day in school anticipating heading to his house afterward so I could meet the guys that he oh so often talked about. I remember clearly how anxious I was as I pulled into the driveway, unsure of what to expect. If Gerard thought highly of them, then they couldn't be that bad. But I was terrible at making friends and I had an unfortunate habit of annoying people I met.

Ms. Way led me to the garage where loud music could be heard. It was interesting, different to say the least. I couldn't even really describe the sort of genre of rock it quite sounded like. But I liked it.

I caught the tail end of a song that the band was finishing practicing. Just by watching them, I could tell that they were in their elements. Gerard was singing (and being a sassy mofo during the process), Mikey was on bass, there was a guy with quite the fro rocking out on lead guitar, and a shorter guy with dark hair and a pretty strong eyeliner game jumping around like he'd had fifty monsters while playing rhythm guitar. Both guitarists did backing vocals as well and I even saw the shorter guy doing some screaming.

(A/N: I'm not mentioning the drummer because the only drummer I have any knowledge on is Bob Bryar and he won't be included in this story)

Gerard introduced me to the others, Ray being the guy with the large hair and Frank being the shorter guy with the eyeliner. After band practice, we all went out to get something to eat and I really enjoyed hanging out with them. They all had pretty unique personalities and Ray and Frank were really cool guys.

Eventually, I became just as close with Frank and Ray as I was with Gerard and Mikey. I went to every one of their local shows in the early days and was overjoyed when they got picked up by a label. We kept in touch while they were touring and I watched as the fanbase grew from a tiny following to sold out stadium shows.

The band was called My Chemical Romance.

But as the band grew bigger and tour grew more hectic, I saw them less and less. One time I went for a whole year without so much as a text message from them. Not that it was a big deal to me, I mean, they were crazy busy and I knew that. And what with my moving to LA to take classes at UCLA, there had just been very little chance to catch up with them.

Fast forward several years and I was receiving a call from none other than Gerard Way himself, telling me that it had been way too long and that everyone wanted to meet up with me when they came through LA. I agreed immediately considering the fact that I'd been missing them like crazy.

And there I was, walking down the early morning LA street, pulling my brown leather jacket closer around me to keep the chill of the early morning air from seeping into my bones. The streets were already bustling with people, calling cabs and pushing past people without so much as an "excuse me."

I was relieved when I entered the quiet and warm coffee shop. It was a family owned shop, and better than any chain coffee place you'd find in LA. I came here regularly and the smell of coffee and the hint of chocolate was somewhat comforting. I ordered my usual, a caramel macchiato (fancy, I know), and took my usual place at the booth in the corner and waited.

Every time I heard the ring of the bell on the door, my head snapped to the front in hope that it was them. But even after forty-five minutes of waiting, they were yet to arrive. They were late.

I was beginning to wonder if they had forgotten when the bell rang yet again. I looked to the front of the shop to see a man with shocking red hair walk through the door, followed closely by a man with a brown afro, a man with brown hair and glasses, and a short man with nearly black hair and a wide grin on his face.

Gerard.

Ray.

Mikey.

Frank.

My guys.

My best friends.

Gerard's hazel eyes scanned the room and he smiled as they landed on me, sat in the corner of the room. I smiled and waved at them.

Their faces almost seemed to light up as they saw me and walked in my direction. My smile grew bigger as I stood from the booth, fixing my shirt in the process, so that I could give them a hug. God, I'd missed them.

As they got closer in the few brief seconds, Frank ran past the others and half shouted, "Skylar!"

I laughed as the man grabbed me and spun me in a circle. I didn't care that people were looking at us weirdly, they could get over it. Frank put me back on the ground and wrapped his arms around my torso and squeezed me tight. I buried my face into his shoulder and smiled. I loved his hugs.

He stepped away from me and I noticed the others had reached us, each with their own signature grin plastered on their faces. Frank ruffled my hair a bit and I pouted at him. He just smirked, his greenish hazel eyes sparkling as he brushed his dark hair from his face. It had grown significantly longer since the last time I'd seen him.

Mikey came next, smiling as he bent over a bit, since he was considerably taller than myself, to give me a hug.

"Man, did we miss you," He chuckled.

I laughed again. "I missed you guys, too."

He pulled away and Ray said, "Alright my turn!"

He, like Frank and Mikey, wrapped me in a tight hug.

"Careful, his hair might eat you, Sky," Someone said behind me.

"Shut up, Iero," Ray laughed, his chest vibrating with the action. I pulled away and patted Ray's hair.

"Nah. It's friendly," I laughed.

"Alright, come on. Don't I get a hug?" Gerard asked, feigning hurt.

"Of course you do, Gerard."

He pulled me in for a hug. "God, I fucking missed you," He said quietly.

I smiled. "I missed you too, Gee."

We pulled away and filed into the booth. Ray and Mikey sat on one side of the table. Gerard sat down on the other side, followed by myself. Before I even had the chance to move over more so Frank could sit, Frank was sitting on my lap.

"Um, excuse me sir, but what are you doing?" I asked him.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He replied, turning a bit to look at me and send me a smirk.

"Shouldn't I be the one sitting on your lap, considering I'm the girl?"

He shrugged, continuing to smirk.

"Unless there's something you're not telling us, Frank..." I trailed off. This time it was my turn to smirk.

"Wh-" Before he could even finish his reply, I shoved him off of my lap. He only barely managed to keep his balance and avoid falling face first onto the tile of the coffee shop. The guys laughed and Gerard gave me a high five as I scooted over so Frank could sit next to me.

Frank sat down next to me, squishing me between Gerard and himself on the small bench.

"So how have you been, short stuff?" Frank asked me.

"Look who's talking, shorty," I replied.

"Hey, at least I'm taller than you."

"Barely."

"It's enough for me."

I laughed, rolling my eyes at the clown of a man.

"No, but really, how have you been, Sky? It's been forever since we've seen you," Ray said from across the table.

I smiled and laced my fingers on the table. "I've been good. My life has been absolutely insane but it's been pretty good."

"How's college been going for you?" Mikey asked.

"It's probably the most stressful thing I've ever done in my life, but I'm surviving. I actually graduate in a few months." I smiled again.

"What are you majoring in?" Gerard asked.

"Science. Biological sciences to be exact. I'm hoping to go into Criminalistics."

"Ooooo gonna be a scientist for the police department, huh?" Frank asked.

I nodded. "I'm also taking a course to be a certified EMT."

"Emergency Medical Technician, right?" Ray asked.

I nodded again.

"What for?"

"Well, you guys know my dad was an EMT. He taught me that it was always good to have emergency medical skills. You never know when you could need them. And, plus, it can save you a whole hell of a lot of money on medical bills when you can fix the problem yourself."

"And that's the Skylar we know, always thinking ahead," Gerard said with a smile, brushing his red hair out of his eyes.

I chuckled. "Yep, that's me. So what about you guys? How's everything with the band been going? I hear you guys are going in to record your fifth album."

"Yep. It's been great. The fans are amazing and it's great to just be doing what we love for a living. I couldn't think of anything else I'd rather be doing with my life," Gerard said.

"Man, it feels like it was just yesterday that you guys were still a garage band. You guys are huge now. It's mind blowing."

"Yeah. I can't say that we really believe it half the time," Mikey chuckled.

"So how are the fans?" I asked.

"They are the best fans you could ever ask for. They are so supportive of everything and they are so spirited it's just crazy," Ray laughs.

"I hear they have a thing for shipping you guys together," I laugh. "The one I hear of the most is between you two." I look at Gerard and Frank.

Gerard laughs a bit. "Frank and I can't even have a conversation on Twitter without them commenting 'Frerard.'"

"No kidding," Frank said.

"I don't even get why it's called 'Frerard,'" Gerard commented.

I turned to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean why does Frank's name come first? Why can't it be something like, I don't know, Grank or something?"

I laughed.

"Because I'm awesome and Grank sounds stupid," Frank said.

"It sounds better than Frerard."

"It so doesn't."

"It totally does!"

Frank was silent for a second before replying in a mocking tone. "Or maybe it's because I would totally top in that relationship."

I was trying my hardest not to fall off the bench from laughing so hard.

"No way in fucking hell. I would totally top," Gerard replied, his voice serious.

"Nu-uh! It would be me."

"Not a chance, shorty."

"Skylar?" Both said in unison, asking my opinion on the apparently serious controversy.

I looked back and forth between the two of them before replying. "I ship it," I said with a smirk.

We all bust up laughing and began talking about other things, the conversation being put aside and forgotten.

************

It was later in the evening and we were walking down the slowly emptying LA streets, headed to their tour bus so I could see them off. We had spent the day wandering around the city, going into stores with no intention of buying anything, visiting a street fair, and even seeing a movie. It had been a really good day, but it had gone too fast and now they were leaving again. God knows when I would be seeing them again.

The guys had slowed their pace and were whispering to each other behind me. I stopped walking and turned around to face the whispering bunch.

"What are you four being so secretive about?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow.

Gerard sighed. "Well, it's been three years since we've seen you. That means we've missed three birthdays and three Christmases. We've missed quite a lot lately and haven't been keeping up with you nearly as much as we should. So, to help make up for that, we got you something."

"What have I told you guys about getting me gifts?" I asked. I'd told them time and time again not to get me gifts. Half the time, I couldn't afford to get them anything and even when I could, it never compared to what they got me. And honestly, I didn't want anything. As cheesy as it sounds, their friendship was all I needed.

Frank waved his hand dismissively. "Oh shut up and just accept the gift, Sky," He said with a smirk.

Gee pulled a small, rectangular, black box from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. I flipped open the lid and gasped at what I saw.

It was a necklace. It had a sturdy looking golden chain and hanging from it was a simple, golden circular disc, appearing to be approximately one inch in diameter. It was simple and elegant and I loved it.

"Flip the disk over," Mikey instructed. I did as he said and had to practically fight back tears. On the back of the circular charm, my name was engraved in the center. And following the edges of the circle, each of their names were engraved, creating a circle of their names around mine. It was beautiful.

"This way you can always have something to remind you of us and know that we are always here for you," Ray said as I looked up at them.

"Oh, guys," I said, looking at each of them. "It's beautiful. Thank you so much." I pulled them in for a group hug and still had to fight back tears. It was just a necklace, but it meant the world to me.

Gerard grabbed the box from my hands as we broke the hug and fastened the necklace around my neck. I smiled as I felt the cold metal of the disc touch my skin. "I'll never take it off," I said.

"So when's the last time you saw one of our shows?" Gerard asked as he came back around to the front of me with the others.

I thought for a second, trying to remember. "At least four years," I said. "Not since the beginning of the Black Parade tour." The guys each began to smirk at me. "What?" I asked.

"You're coming with us, then," Ray said.

"What?"

"You're going to come up to the Northern California shows over the next several days with us and we'll pay for you to fly back before we leave the state," Mikey replied.

"We even have an extra bunk in the bus for you. We can stop by your apartment on the way out so you can get your clothes and stuff," Frank said with a smile.

My head was exploding with excitement. I loved seeing their shows and it'd been so long since I'd seen one. I get to spend the next several days with them, traveling around California and seeing them play for the fans. It'd be amazing. But I decided to mess with them a little bit first. "And what makes you think I would want to spend the next several days trapped on a bus with you guys?" I asked seriously, crossing my arms over my chest for an added effect.

For once, the guys actually looked confused and at a loss for words. My face broke into a grin. "I'm just kidding. I'd love to." The guys cheered.

************

It was the middle of the night when I woke up in my bunk on the bus. I was in my loose white tank top and black flannel pajama pants. After all, that's what I had put on for bed. I sighed as I checked the time, realizing it was close to eleven o'clock at night, the same night that we had left LA. I pulled back the dark curtains blocking the entrance to my bunk and slid out into the hallway. I chucked as I crept past the other bunks, the sound of the guys' snores resonating throughout the hall.

I pulled out a plastic cup from the cupboard in the main room and filled it with water, gripping the counter a bit to keep myself from falling over due to the bumps in the road. I glanced around the main room and spotted my backpack lying in the corner of the room. The very bag that held my clothes, a few bottles of water and several of my favorite granola bars (because I loved those things and refused to leave my apartment without them), and my extensive first aid kit that I always brought with me, thanks to the fact that I was a training EMT. When I showed the guys everything I had in it, they claimed that I could perform surgery with all of the supplies I had in it. That was pretty much true.

I looked out the window of the bus, watching as a sign reading "Route Guano" passed by. It appeared that we were in the middle of the California desert at that point. No sign of civilization in sight.

I shivered as I thought back to the chilling nightmare that had woken me from my sleep.

I was standing in the middle of the desert, the beating sun baking my skin as I stared and the motionless bodies of my best friends, each of them lying in a pool of their own blood. They were wearing strange clothes and there were strange guns scattered around the scene. Before I had the chance to move, the scene changed.

I was standing in a building, heat blistering my skin and the smell of smoke depriving my lungs of oxygen. A flash of red hair passed my vision. I called out to it, in hopes that they could tell me what was happening. But before they could do anything, a flaming mass of ceiling collapsed on me.

The scene changed again before I could feel the pain. I was crouched behind an overturned table beside Frank. Strange flashes of light passed over our heads and beside the table. Frank stood up quickly, firing a strange green gun in the opposite direction of us. Without warning, he collapsed to the ground beside me, blood pooling from a wound in his chest. I panicked as I scrambled beside him and tried to stem the bleeding. I called his name in desperation, trying to keep him alive as long as possible. Panic rose in my chest, choking my brain and causing me to not be able to think clearly. I didn't know what to do. His frantic hazel eyes met mine as he gasped for breath. He tried to say something to me, but his breathing hitched, cutting his words off. Then, he was still, his chest stopped rising, and his vacant eyes stared into mine.

I screamed in anger and rose from the ground, wielding a strange purple gun and firing at men in white suits. I didn't know what I was doing or why, but my body behaved as though it were second nature as I shot down person after person. Then, I noticed the other bodies on the ground, deathly still and pools of blood around them.

Ray, Mikey, and Gerard.

I was alone.

Then I woke up.

I had never had such a strange and chilling nightmare before. It's not like it meant anything, but it was just weird.

I had just started to head back to my bunk when the sound of an earth-shattering explosion pierced through the silent night. Before I knew what was happening, the world began to spin and I was flying through the air, my brain barely processing the sound of tearing metal and shattering glass.

My head hit something hard and the world turned black.