#Employee Stock Benefit

[darlingkeyzblog]

The Benefits of Employee Stock Ownership Plans (ESOP)

Employee Stock Ownership Plans (ESOPs) are increasingly becoming a popular strategy for businesses to engage and motivate their workforce. These plans provide employees with an ownership stake in the company, creating a shared sense of responsibility and alignment with business goals. Whether you’re a business owner looking to transition out of your company or seeking ways to boost employee…

[yther]

wow, audhd? I got excited talking to a nerdy cute post office guy about the D&D stamps and Dragon Con

I'm incorrigible. Don't even know the guy. or if he's married with kids or what.. but I wanted to ask if he'd be my Dungeon Master

._.

[plotholes-and-spellingerrors]

That is very much the point - to make people become invested (literally) in a system that might benefit them marginally but is guaranteed to benefit the ultra-wealthy enormously

It drives me crazy that the Normal Ideal Middle-Class Professional Way of preparing for retirement in the U.S. is putting money into the Magic Capitalism Feelings Engine (a.k.a. making investments) and trusting it will return your money and more to support you in your old age. First because of the gamble of it, but second because it forces people to care about the damn stock market.

[anishakhurana]

 Employee Stock option plan

What is ESOP?

ESOP stands for Employee Stock option plan. Now a day, most of the start-ups in India uses this as a tool to maintain their employee turnover ratio. Being a Start-up, it is not easy for them to get experienced & talented personnel’s at lower packages, hence they also provide ESOP to its employees so as to make them owner in profits.

Benefits of ESOP

Following are the key benefits of ESOP:-

It helps in reducing employee attrition by giving them ownership in the stake of the company.

It works as an alternate to high compensation package for Start-ups.

It gives employees a sense of trust towards the company by making them shareholder in the company.

It encourages the employees to work in best manner for the shareholders since the employees themselves hold share in company.

It helps in maintaining funds of the company as it is not an out-of-pocket cost to the company.

In case of eligible start-ups, certain tax benefits are also there for the company as well as employees.

[ifindtaxpro]

🏢 Are you making the most of your employee perks? Learn about the tax implications of benefits like healthcare, stock options, and bonuses. Understand what's taxable and what's not to optimize your financial situation.

[vegaequity]

Navigating ESOP Benefits in Times of Company Closure or Sale

Employee Stock Ownership Plans (ESOPs) are a unique and valuable benefit offered by some companies. ESOPs provide employees with a stake in the company's ownership, aligning their interests with the success of the business. However, what happens to ESOP benefits when a company faces closure or is sold? This is a critical question that employees with ESOPs need answers to, and in this article, we'll explore the strategies and considerations for navigating ESOP benefits during these challenging times.

[prompt-heaven]

the ultimate list of AUs, kinks and tropes to inspire you for kinktober 

some of these are darker in nature since that is fitting for the spooky season. 

AUs

academic / teacher / professor / tutor 

addams family

babysitter / nanny

bartender

biker

bodyguard

bonnie and clyde

bounty hunter

boxer 

camp counselor

circus / carnival

cult 

demon / angel

fairytale retelling

fantasy 

farmer

firefighter

guardian angel 

historical 

hybrid

mafia / mob 

magic 

maid / butler 

mechanic 

modern 

monster / mythology / supernatural

paranormal investigator 

pirate / mermaid

post-apocalyptic

priest

prison

rockstar 

royalty

serial killer

sex worker / porn / camgirl/boy / stripper 

slasher

soulmate

spy / secret agent

steampunk / cyber punk

sugar daddy

tattoo artist 

time travel

treasure hunter 

vampire

werewolf 

wild west

TROPES

a/b/o

against a wall 

age gap

amnesia / memory loss

anonymous sex

balcony sex

boss x employee 

brothers best friend / dad’s best friend (dbf)

car sex

cheating

clothed sex

comforting sex

coworkers to lovers

cursed / fuck or die / sex pollen

dark / soft!dark

enemies to lovers

exes to lovers

fake relationship

forbidden romance

friends to lovers

friends with benefits

game gone wrong

hate sex / make-up sex

huddle for warmth

just the tip

library sex

loss of virginity

mirror sex

neighbours to lovers 

only one bed

opposites attract

period sex

pool / hot tub sex

predator / prey

professor x student

public / semi-public sex

revenge sex

reverse harem

romantic sex

roommates to lovers

rough sex

seduction

sex in an alley

sex in exchange for a favour

sex while camping

shower / bath sex

stalker

stepcest

table sex

unrequited love

yandere

KINKS

aftercare

anal 

begging

being recorded / taking pictures

body worship

dom / sub / bondage / bdsm / shibari

breath play / choking

cheating

cockwarming

corruption kink 

costumes / uniforms

creampie / breeding / forced breeding

cuckolding

cum in panties

cumplay

cunnilingus / face sitting / rimming / blowjob / deep throating / gagging

dacryphillia

dirty talk / voice kink

double penetration / double penetration in one hole 

dry humping / thigh riding 

dubcon / noncon / cnc / drugging

dumbification

exhibitionism / voyeurism

fingering

fisting

flashing 

food play 

footjob 

forced orgasm

formal wear 

free use

glory hole

glove kink 

hand kink

handjob 

hole inspection

humiliation / degradation

hunter / prey

impact play / spanking / whipping / hair pulling / pain kink

jealousy / sharing / possessive

knife kink / gun kink

lingerie / stockings / socks

massage

masturbation / caught masturbating / mutual masturbation

medical kink

monsterfucking / tentacles

multiple orgasms

orgasm denial / overstimulation / edging

threesome / orgy / gangbang

partner swap 

pegging

piercings

pillow humping

praise kink 

premature ejaculation / cuming untouched

pussyjob

roleplay

role reversal

ruined orgasm / cuming without permission

sensory deprivation 

sexting / phone sex 

facial / swallowing / bukakke

size kink / size difference / belly bulge

skirt stays on

somnophilia / getting fucked to sleep

spit kink

squirting

stripping / lap dance

teasing 

temperature play

thigh fucking

throat training

titty fucking

toys / object insertion 

OTHER PROMPTS

a ritual gone wrong 

a string of unexplained deaths

a summer fling gone horrible wrong, or right

alian abduction 

art come to life

basement wife 

being paralysed 

blackmail 

caught trespassing on private property

college party gone wrong

crazy ex

curiosity killed the cat

fate worse than death

final girl

getting stranded in a little town that’s not as wholesome as it seems

ghostface

halloween party

haunted house / abandoned house 

haunted object 

hitch-hiking gone wrong

hot neighbour that has an obsession with you

i was sent here to assassinate you but now i think i might be in love with you

Items moving and/or going missing

i’ll find you in every universe / century

kidnapping

lost in a maze

mad scientist 

magical healing 

marriage / wedding / arranged marriage/ forced marriage 

mind control / telepathy

mirrors playing tricks on the mind

oh, you had a long day? use me as your personal sex toy in order to unwind

oops, i summoned a demon 

oops, i’m dating a serial killer

playing games (like seven minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, hide and seek, etc.) but they have a slutty/dark twist to them

possession (ghost or demon)

power outage

ritual / sacrifice / blood magic

road trip

secret room

serial killers fucking in front of hostages

stalker landlord

stalker wearing the same costume as your partner 

stockholm syndrome

the return of a villain thought dead

torture

toxic frat boy

waking up from strange dreams and seeing bruises and marks on your skin that correspond exactly with the dream you just woke from

we’re the last people on the planet and you will be mine

you wake up strapped to a table just as a fuck machine is turned on

[wttcsms]

saying let's get married;

domestic and sweet moments during the first year of newly-wed life (f!reader) <3

KUROO — "my wife" this and "my wife" that to the point where all his friends and coworkers are groaning and saying we get it, man! you're married now! his dorky nonfiction books taking up all the space on the nightstand. helping him tame his bed hair when he wakes up and is trying to get ready for work. created a powerpoint presentation where he told you he was going to give you the most epic promotion of a lifetime (the powerpoint was themed to mimic an HR presentation describing new employee benefits and perks, along with what the new position would consist of; the final slide asked "do you accept the position of being tetsurou kuroo's wife? limited time bonus offer includes a diamond ring!")

OSAMU — doesn't know how to fold your clothes properly (it's not weaponized incompetence, he just doesn't understand why your tops have these many strings and components to them). tries out all his new recipes with you as his taste-testing guinea pigs. during your wedding reception, atsumu asked you who was cuter: him or osamu. on your off days from your job, you go to onigiri miya and help him close down the shop. blowing bubbles at him from the soap that foams up when you're washing the dishes. him knowing where you're most ticklish and using it against you every time he asks you for a minor favor.

BOKUTO — asks you about kid names before he even pops the question. wants you to quiz him on your family tree because he so badly wants to impress them when he's meeting them (he then asks for a quiz on your extended family once the wedding date is scheduled). gets excited when he sees those corny tiktoks that claim "these initials are soulmates" and he sees yours and his initials paired together; he'll send you those tiktoks and go "babe, look!!! i told u we were meant to be!!" brings you up any time he can, whether it's in regular conversation with friends, small talk with a cashier, a meet n greet with a fan, or a post-game interview. loves to do push-ups with you on his back.

OIKAWA — makes a vision board at the beginning of the year, except the main image is a horribly photoshopped picture of your head pasted on some stock photo of a bride. he was showing you something on his phone, and the notification from his jeweler announcing that your engagement ring was ready for pick up popped up and he nearly dropped his phone while trying to hurriedly swipe away the notification whilst shielding his screen from you. gets all pouty and wants to be the little spoon; will also start asking you "baaaabe, would you still love me if i was a worm?" saw you in the stands booing his opposing team, and whistled, exclaiming "that's my girl!" panics when he sees strands of his hair on the bathroom floor; proceeds to ask you if you'll still be with him even if he becomes bald. then asks if you'll pay for his hair transplant (as a joke; you never use your card when you're with him).

[reasonsforhope]

"When Francois Beyers first pitched the concept of 3D ocean farming to the Welsh regulators, he had to sketch it on napkins. 

Today the seafood farm is much more than a drawing, but if you walked along the Welsh coastal path near St David’s, all you’d see is a line of buoys. As Beyers puts it: “It’s what’s below that’s important.”

Thick tussles of lustrous seaweed suspend from the buoys, mussels cling to its furry connective ropes and dangling Chinese lantern-esque nets are filled with oysters and scallops. 

“It’s like an underwater garden,” says Beyers, co-founder of the community-owned regenerative ocean farm, Câr-y-Môr. The 3-hectare site is part of a fledgling sector, one of 12 farms in the UK, which key players believe could boost ocean biodiversity, produce sustainable agricultural fertiliser and provide year-round employment in areas that have traditionally been dependent on tourism. 

Created in 2020 by Beyers and six family members, including his father-in-law – an ex-shellfish farmer – the motivation is apparent in the name, which is Welsh for “for the love of the sea”. ...

Pictured: Drone shot of Câr-y-Môr, which is on the site of abandoned mussel farms. Image: Scott Chalmers

Ocean farming comes from the technical term ‘integrated multi-trophic aquaculture’, which means a mixture of different seaweed and shellfish species growing together to mutually benefit each other. But it’s not just a way of growing food with little human input, it also creates ocean habitat. 

“You’re creating a breeding ground for marine animals,” explains Beyers who adds that the site has seen more gannets diving, porpoises and seals – to name a few – since before the farm was established.

Ocean farms like Câr-y-Môr, notes Ross Brown – environmental research fellow at the University of Exeter – have substantial conservation benefits.

“Setting up a seaweed farm creates an exclusion zone so fishermen can’t trawl it,” explains Brown, who has been conducting experiments on the impacts of seaweed and shellfish farms across the UK. 

Brown believes a thriving ocean farming industry could provide solutions to the UK’s fish stock, which is in “a deeply troubling state” according to a report that found half of the key populations to be overfished. “It would create stepping stones where we have safe havens for fish and other organisms,” he adds. 

But UK regulators have adopted a cautious approach, note Brown and Beyers, making it difficult for businesses like Câr-y-Môr to obtain licenses. “It’s been a tough old slog,” says Beyers, whose aim is to change the legislation to make it easier for others to start ocean farms. 

Despite navigating uncharted territories, the business now has 14 full-time employees, and 300 community members, of which nearly 100 have invested in the community-benefit society. For member and funding manager Tracey Gilbert-Falconer, the model brings expertise but most importantly, buy-in from the tight-knit local community. 

“You need to work with the community than forcing yourself in,” she observes. 

And Câr-y-Môr is poised to double its workforce in 2024 thanks to a Defra grant of £1.1 million to promote and develop the Welsh seafood industry as part of the UK Seafood Fund Infrastructure Scheme. This will go towards building a processing hub, set to be operational in April, to produce agricultural fertiliser from seaweed. 

Full of mineral nutrients and phosphorous from the ocean, seaweed use in farming is nothing new, as Gilbert-Falconer notes: “Farmers in Pembrokeshire talk about their grandad going down to the sea and throwing [seaweed] on their farms.” 

But as the war in Ukraine has caused the price of chemical fertiliser to soar, and the sector tries to reduce its environmental impact – of which synthetic fertiliser contributes 5% of total UK emissions – farmers and government are increasingly looking to seaweed. 

The new hub will have capacity to make 65,000 litres of sustainable fertiliser annually with the potential to cover 13,000 acres of farmland. 

But to feed the processing hub, generate profit and reduce their dependency on grants, the co-op needs to increase the ocean farm size from three to 13 hectares. If they obtain licences, Beyers says they should break even in 18 months. 

For now, Beyers reflects on a “humbling” three years but revels in the potential uses of seaweed, from construction material to clothing.  

“I haven’t seen the limit yet,” he smiles."

-via Positive.News, February 19, 2024

[wondersinwaynemanor]

Does Tim forget he's officially a Wayne now? That, or his mind is too full with many ideas and he's easily distracted from one thought to the next. I think it's all of the above.

During a board meeting at Wayne Enterprises, employees try to get his attention cus sleep-deprived Tim is analyzing stock markets and investments, and planning on what he should to Mr. Freeze tonight because that bastard almost blasted Damian with his freeze gun, and he's wondering what country he could explore with Kon on the weekend.

When Jason asked, "How do you handle everything, Timmy??" Tim answered, "It's quite easy." Dick worries for his younger brother's mental health. Bruce constantly checks in on Tim on how's he doing with his different responsibilities and if he needs to step down as CEO for now and let Lucius handle it for him. But Tim is full of determination and intelligence- Bruce admires that about his son. Those traits are very present in his family.

Employee 1 - Mr. Wayne, what do you think of this project? Do you think it can benefit us?

Tim - ..... (on his mind - "I'm gonna rip that suit from Mr. Freeze till he apologizes for what he did to Damian. I'm gonna kill-").

Lucius - Mr. Wayne. (he doesn't usually call Tim this way but they're in a professional setting right now so it's a given).

Tim is fnally out of the trance from his own mind - Yes, Mr. Fox. Sorry, my apologies. That project is amazing... (and he continues to speak about the project like he didn't just get lost there).

And the board of members continue to be impressed by young Timothy Wayne.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The moral injury of having your work enshittified

This Monday (November 27), I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

This week, I wrote about how the Great Enshittening – in which all the digital services we rely on become unusable, extractive piles of shit – did not result from the decay of the morals of tech company leadership, but rather, from the collapse of the forces that discipline corporate wrongdoing:

https://locusmag.com/2023/11/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-dont-be-evil/

The failure to enforce competition law allowed a few companies to buy out their rivals, or sell goods below cost until their rivals collapsed, or bribe key parts of their supply chain not to allow rivals to participate:

https://www.engadget.com/google-reportedly-pays-apple-36-percent-of-ad-search-revenues-from-safari-191730783.html

The resulting concentration of the tech sector meant that the surviving firms were stupendously wealthy, and cozy enough that they could agree on a common legislative agenda. That regulatory capture has allowed tech companies to violate labor, privacy and consumer protection laws by arguing that the law doesn't apply when you use an app to violate it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But the regulatory capture isn't just about preventing regulation: it's also about creating regulation – laws that make it illegal to reverse-engineer, scrape, and otherwise mod, hack or reconfigure existing services to claw back value that has been taken away from users and business customers. This gives rise to Jay Freeman's perfectly named doctrine of "felony contempt of business-model," in which it is illegal to use your own property in ways that anger the shareholders of the company that sold it to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Undisciplined by the threat of competition, regulation, or unilateral modification by users, companies are free to enshittify their products. But what does that actually look like? I say that enshittification is always precipitated by a lost argument.

It starts when someone around a board-room table proposes doing something that's bad for users but good for the company. If the company faces the discipline of competition, regulation or self-help measures, then the workers who are disgusted by this course of action can say, "I think doing this would be gross, and what's more, it's going to make the company poorer," and so they win the argument.

But when you take away that discipline, the argument gets reduced to, "Don't do this because it would make me ashamed to work here, even though it will make the company richer." Money talks, bullshit walks. Let the enshittification begin!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/22/who-wins-the-argument/#corporations-are-people-my-friend

But why do workers care at all? That's where phrases like "don't be evil" come into the picture. Until very recently, tech workers participated in one of history's tightest labor markets, in which multiple companies with gigantic war-chests bid on their labor. Even low-level employees routinely fielded calls from recruiters who dangled offers of higher salaries and larger stock grants if they would jump ship for a company's rival.

Employers built "campuses" filled with lavish perks: massages, sports facilities, daycare, gourmet cafeterias. They offered workers generous benefit packages, including exotic health benefits like having your eggs frozen so you could delay fertility while offsetting the risks normally associated with conceiving at a later age.

But all of this was a transparent ruse: the business-case for free meals, gyms, dry-cleaning, catering and massages was to keep workers at their laptops for 10, 12, or even 16 hours per day. That egg-freezing perk wasn't about helping workers plan their families: it was about thumbing the scales in favor of working through your entire twenties and thirties without taking any parental leave.

In other words, tech employers valued their employees as a means to an end: they wanted to get the best geeks on the payroll and then work them like government mules. The perks and pay weren't the result of comradeship between management and labor: they were the result of the discipline of competition for labor.

This wasn't really a secret, of course. Big Tech workers are split into two camps: blue badges (salaried employees) and green badges (contractors). Whenever there is a slack labor market for a specific job or skill, it is converted from a blue badge job to a green badge job. Green badges don't get the food or the massages or the kombucha. They don't get stock or daycare. They don't get to freeze their eggs. They also work long hours, but they are incentivized by the fear of poverty.

Tech giants went to great lengths to shield blue badges from green badges – at some Google campuses, these workforces actually used different entrances and worked in different facilities or on different floors. Sometimes, green badge working hours would be staggered so that the armies of ragged clickworkers would not be lined up to badge in when their social betters swanned off the luxury bus and into their airy adult kindergartens.

But Big Tech worked hard to convince those blue badges that they were truly valued. Companies hosted regular town halls where employees could ask impertinent questions of their CEOs. They maintained freewheeling internal social media sites where techies could rail against corporate foolishness and make Dilbert references.

And they came up with mottoes.

Apple told its employees it was a sound environmental steward that cared about privacy. Apple also deliberately turned old devices into e-waste by shredding them to ensure that they wouldn't be repaired and compete with new devices:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

And even as they were blocking Facebook's surveillance tools, they quietly built their own nonconsensual mass surveillance program and lied to customers about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Facebook told employees they were on a "mission to connect every person in the world," but instead deliberately sowed discontent among its users and trapped them in silos that meant that anyone who left Facebook lost all their friends:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

And Google promised its employees that they would not "be evil" if they worked at Google. For many googlers, that mattered. They wanted to do something good with their lives, and they had a choice about who they would work for. What's more, they did make things that were good. At their high points, Google Maps, Google Mail, and of course, Google Search were incredible.

My own life was totally transformed by Maps: I have very poor spatial sense, need to actually stop and think to tell my right from my left, and I spent more of my life at least a little lost and often very lost. Google Maps is the cognitive prosthesis I needed to become someone who can go anywhere. I'm profoundly grateful to the people who built that service.

There's a name for phenomenon in which you care so much about your job that you endure poor conditions and abuse: it's called "vocational awe," as coined by Fobazi Ettarh:

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

Ettarh uses the term to apply to traditionally low-waged workers like librarians, teachers and nurses. In our book Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin and I talked about how it applies to artists and other creative workers, too:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

But vocational awe is also omnipresent in tech. The grandiose claims to be on a mission to make the world a better place are not just puffery – they're a vital means of motivating workers who can easily quit their jobs and find a new one to put in 16-hour days. The massages and kombucha and egg-freezing are not framed as perks, but as logistical supports, provided so that techies on an important mission can pursue a shared social goal without being distracted by their balky, inconvenient meatsuits.

Steve Jobs was a master of instilling vocational awe. He was full of aphorisms like "we're here to make a dent in the universe, otherwise why even be here?" Or his infamous line to John Sculley, whom he lured away from Pepsi: "Do you want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life or come with me and change the world?"

Vocational awe cuts both ways. If your workforce actually believes in all that high-minded stuff, if they actually sacrifice their health, family lives and self-care to further the mission, they will defend it. That brings me back to enshittification, and the argument: "If we do this bad thing to the product I work on, it will make me hate myself."

The decline in market discipline for large tech companies has been accompanied by a decline in labor discipline, as the market for technical work grew less and less competitive. Since the dotcom collapse, the ability of tech giants to starve new entrants of market oxygen has shrunk techies' dreams.

Tech workers once dreamed of working for a big, unwieldy firm for a few years before setting out on their own to topple it with a startup. Then, the dream shrank: work for that big, clumsy firm for a few years, then do a fake startup that makes a fake product that is acquihired by your old employer, as an incredibly inefficient and roundabout way to get a raise and a bonus.

Then the dream shrank again: work for a big, ugly firm for life, but get those perks, the massages and the kombucha and the stock options and the gourmet cafeteria and the egg-freezing. Then it shrank again: work for Google for a while, but then get laid off along with 12,000 co-workers, just months after the company does a stock buyback that would cover all those salaries for the next 27 years:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

Tech workers' power was fundamentally individual. In a tight labor market, tech workers could personally stand up to their bosses. They got "workplace democracy" by mouthing off at town hall meetings. They didn't have a union, and they thought they didn't need one. Of course, they did need one, because there were limits to individual power, even for the most in-demand workers, especially when it came to ghastly, long-running sexual abuse from high-ranking executives:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/25/technology/google-sexual-harassment-andy-rubin.html

Today, atomized tech workers who are ordered to enshittify the products they take pride in are losing the argument. Workers who put in long hours, missed funerals and school plays and little league games and anniversaries and family vacations are being ordered to flush that sacrifice down the toilet to grind out a few basis points towards a KPI.

It's a form of moral injury, and it's palpable in the first-person accounts of former workers who've exited these large firms or the entire field. The viral "Reflecting on 18 years at Google," written by Ian Hixie, vibrates with it:

https://ln.hixie.ch/?start=1700627373

Hixie describes the sense of mission he brought to his job, the workplace democracy he experienced as employees' views were both solicited and heeded. He describes the positive contributions he was able to make to a commons of technical standards that rippled out beyond Google – and then, he says, "Google's culture eroded":

Decisions went from being made for the benefit of users, to the benefit of Google, to the benefit of whoever was making the decision.

In other words, techies started losing the argument. Layoffs weakened worker power – not just to defend their own interest, but to defend the users interests. Worker power is always about more than workers – think of how the 2019 LA teachers' strike won greenspace for every school, a ban on immigration sweeps of students' parents at the school gates and other community benefits:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

Hixie attributes the changes to a change in leadership, but I respectfully disagree. Hixie points to the original shareholder letter from the Google founders, in which they informed investors contemplating their IPO that they were retaining a controlling interest in the company's governance so that they could ignore their shareholders' priorities in favor of a vision of Google as a positive force in the world:

https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/

Hixie says that the leadership that succeeded the founders lost sight of this vision – but the whole point of that letter is that the founders never fully ceded control to subsequent executive teams. Yes, those executive teams were accountable to the shareholders, but the largest block of voting shares were retained by the founders.

I don't think the enshittification of Google was due to a change in leadership – I think it was due to a change in discipline, the discipline imposed by competition, regulation and the threat of self-help measures. Take ads: when Google had to contend with one-click adblocker installation, it had to constantly balance the risk of making users so fed up that they googled "how do I block ads?" and then never saw another ad ever again.

But once Google seized the majority of the mobile market, it was able to funnel users into apps, and reverse-engineering an app is a felony (felony contempt of business-model) under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a crime to install an ad-blocker.

And as Google acquired control over the browser market, it was likewise able to reduce the self-help measures available to browser users who found ads sufficiently obnoxious to trigger googling "how do I block ads?" The apotheosis of this is the yearslong campaign to block adblockers in Chrome, which the company has sworn it will finally do this coming June:

https://www.tumblr.com/tevruden/734352367416410112/you-have-until-june-to-dump-chrome

My contention here is not that Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in personnel via the promotion of managers who have shitty ideas. Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in discipline, as the negative consequences of heeding those shitty ideas were abolished thanks to monopoly.

This is bad news for people like me, who rely on services like Google Maps as cognitive prostheses. Elizabeth Laraki, one of the original Google Maps designers, has published a scorching critique of the latest GMaps design:

https://twitter.com/elizlaraki/status/1727351922254852182

Laraki calls out numerous enshittificatory design-choices that have left Maps screens covered in "crud" – multiple revenue-maximizing elements that come at the expense of usability, shifting value from users to Google.

What Laraki doesn't say is that these UI elements are auctioned off to merchants, which means that the business that gives Google the most money gets the greatest prominence in Maps, even if it's not the best merchant. That's a recurring motif in enshittified tech platforms, most notoriously Amazon, which makes $31b/year auctioning off top search placement to companies whose products aren't relevant enough to your query to command that position on their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Enshittification begets enshittification. To succeed on Amazon, you must divert funds from product quality to auction placement, which means that the top results are the worst products:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

The exception is searches for Apple products: Apple and Amazon have a cozy arrangement that means that searches for Apple products are a timewarp back to the pre-enshittification Amazon, when the company worried enough about losing your business to heed the employees who objected to sacrificing search quality as part of a merchant extortion racket:

https://www.businessinsider.com/amazon-gives-apple-special-treatment-while-others-suffer-junk-ads-2023-11

Not every tech worker is a tech bro, in other words. Many workers care deeply about making your life better. But the microeconomics of the boardroom in a monopolized tech sector rewards the worst people and continuously promotes them. Forget the Peter Principle: tech is ruled by the Sam Principle.

As OpenAI went through four CEOs in a single week, lots of commentators remarked on Sam Altman's rise and fall and rise, but I only found one commentator who really had Altman's number. Writing in Today in Tabs, Rusty Foster nailed Altman to the wall:

https://www.todayintabs.com/p/defective-accelerationism

Altman's history goes like this: first, he founded a useless startup that raised $30m, only to be acquired and shuttered. Then Altman got a job running Y Combinator, where he somehow failed at taking huge tranches of equity from "every Stanford dropout with an idea for software to replace something Mommy used to do." After that, he founded OpenAI, a company that he claims to believe presents an existential risk to the entire human risk – which he structured so incompetently that he was then forced out of it.

His reward for this string of farcical, mounting failures? He was put back in charge of the company he mis-structured despite his claimed belief that it will destroy the human race if not properly managed.

Altman's been around for a long time. He founded his startup in 2005. There've always been Sams – of both the Bankman-Fried varietal and the Altman genus – in tech. But they didn't get to run amok. They were disciplined by their competitors, regulators, users and workers. The collapse of competition led to an across-the-board collapse in all of those forms of discipline, revealing the executives for the mediocre sociopaths they always were, and exposing tech workers' vocational awe for the shabby trick it was from the start.

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/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

[wayward-dreamer]

New Blood

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Fem!Supe!Reader

Word count: 4,750

Summary: The executives at Vought American are enamoured by the new supe at the annual shareholders party, hoping to make her a new addition to Payback. Soldier Boy isn't pleased with the idea, as he's the only one who gets to decide who joins his team. He tells her this fact, and braces himself for a fight, but gets something much better out of their encounter.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Swearing, angst, SB being an asshole, misogyny, smut: dirty talk, rough sex (like insanely rough, they're supes after all), using powers during sex, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex.

A/N: I got an anon Soldier Boy fic request to write something similar to the Homelander/Stormfront sex scene from 2.05, so here it is. It's been a while since I've posted anything, so I just hope it reads well. I may even be up to writing a part 2. Happy reading! :) @that-sarcastic-writer for your kinktober writers list ;)

Vought never really needed an excuse for a huge party.

With the company gaining more stock in the last few years, there were plenty of things to celebrate. There had been talk recently that there was a chance for them to become an international corporation, as more supes were added to their registry and employees of Vought American were being promoted around the clock. The annual shareholders party kept getting bigger and bigger with every year the company was earning more credibility, and the year of 1984 was the most decked out the foyer on the 40th floor had been in recent times.

The champagne was free-flowing, the hors d'oeuvres were endless as waiters walked through the crowd, and all the shareholders had their attention on the supes in the room. The members of Payback were scattered around, some in deep conversations with the higher-ups in Vought, and others that cared more about finding a way to entertain themselves for the night.

Y/N threw her head back with an exaggerated cackle, taking a sip of her champagne as she turned her face away from the shareholder she was talking to, rolling her eyes. She faced him again, a smile plastered on her face as her hand smoothed down the shoulder of his charcoal suit.

“So, how much control do you have over those powers?” he asked, a slick grin pulling at his lips.

“Well sir, if you’re asking what I think you’re asking… I don’t know anyone who doesn’t love it when things get a little heated,” she replied, as she lifted her hand, a small flame appearing between her thumb and forefinger. Gently, she hovered her fingers close to the skin of his jaw, causing him to jump at the faint burn.

Their eyes met as they both laughed, his hand sliding down her back and resting on her hip. Y/N tried not to show her disgust as she continued to smile, a few more of the shareholders and members of the board joining them, all of them intrigued by the newest supe to join the Vought family.

“You certainly have a better handle on things than those fucking twins,” another one of the suits stated, briefly looking back at the TNT twins across the room before he turned to her, “you’d make a better contribution to Payback than they are right now.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, clinking her glass with his.

In truth, she had no desire to be on the team for any personal gain, but if being a part of it offered greater benefits for her family back home then she was more than willing to do what needed to be done.

Soldier Boy leaned against the high-top table as he sipped his whiskey, his line of vision directly on the woman across the room at the bar, surrounded by all the corporate fuckers that had barely spoken two words to him all night. The only thing he had heard was an earful from Stan Edgar about the last mission he had gone on, but it was all a bunch of hypocritical bullshit. He continued to ignore the man as he stood in front of him, his eyes focused as he watched her, observing her every move as she practically threw herself at all of them.

“We need to do some damage control before you head off to Nicaragua,” Edgar added, stopping as he realized he wasn’t getting anywhere. “If you want to stay relevant, Ben, I suggest taking some of my advice on board.”

“Who the fuck is that?” Soldier Boy asked, a quick glance at him before he nudged his chin towards the woman in question.

“Ember,” Edgar replied, curtly. “Y/N. Promising up and comer from Detroit. VPs think she might be a good fit for the team, that we need some new blood around here.”

“My team?” Soldier Boy turned towards Edgar, jaw clenched as his eyebrows furrowed into a glare. 

“I believe you mean Vought’s team,” Edgar countered, unfazed by the way the supe was staring him down. “But she’s no one to concern yourself with. Leave that to us.”

Soldier Boy rolled his eyes, taking another sip from the tumbler in his hand as he looked back at Y/N. She stood in the middle, champagne in one hand and cigarette in the other, charming the men that circled her, and even a few women. His scowl deepened as he watched her laugh, show off her powers and flirt with them. They were all hanging on every word she said. Usually it would be him cracking jokes with all the suits, inviting them to after parties with the best drugs, booze and women. They hadn’t even looked his way this entire time.

He didn’t know much about Y/N apart from her supe name, Ember, but there was no way she was getting into Payback, into his team, without his approval. He smirked in as he saw her excuse herself, strutting away from the group with an exaggerated swing of her hips, the tight latex bodysuit accentuating the curve of her ass. He threw back the rest of his drink, leaving the glass on the table as he adjusted the front of his suit, walking away from Edgar and whatever lecture he was about to continue.

The smile grew on his face as he saw her walking down the hallway, the heels of her thigh-high boots clacking against the marble floor. He shook his head as she took one last puff of her cigarette and threw it on the ground, putting it out with the toe of her boot before she made her way to the restrooms.

She definitely needed a lesson about who was in charge around here, and who she needed to impress to be in the team.

Y/N stepped out of the cubicle, blowing a large bubble of her gum and popping it, washing her hands under the gold and ivory tap of the black marble skin. She turned the water off, shaking the drops off her hands before she reached for the paper towels, wiping them thoroughly. She threw the paper in the trash along with her gum, turning on her heel to look at herself once more in the mirror. She placed her hands over her covered chest, pushing her breasts up slightly, giving herself more cleavage in her tight suit before she headed back to the party. She opened the pack she had attached to her hip, taking out her silver cigarette case and opening it, grimacing when she found it empty.

“Fuck,” she breathed, as she snapped it closed and shoved it back in the small pack.

With one last look at her figure in the mirror, she turned towards the door and walked out into the hallway. Her heels clicked against the floors for a couple steps before she stopped abruptly, her sight fixed on the man leaning against the wall, who’s own eyes drifted up the length of her body, a small smirk pulling at his lips as he placed a cigarette between them.

“Got a light?” he asked, winking.

With a playful roll of her eyes as she clicked her fingers, a tiny flame igniting. He leaned forward, the tip of the cigarette burning as he inhaled, pulling it out as he blew the smoke out in rings. Their eyes met as neither of them made the move to step aside, staring each other down. Y/N knew exactly who he was, and she even had a feeling she knew what he wanted, but there was no way he was going to get it so easily. She wasn’t going to hold out completely, she was far too curious about him for that to happen.

“Ember… right?” he inquired, even though he already knew.

She gave him a firm nod, boldly reaching for the cigarette between his fingers and placing it to her lips, taking a large drag herself. She blew it out slowly, right in his face, slightly annoyed that he didn’t react. “Whatever you want, Soldier Boy… you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“Oh come on, doll, I just wanna talk,” he reasoned, shifting closer to her as he gazed into her eyes.

“I have a name,” she stated, her features void of any emotion. She wasn’t in the mood for whatever he was trying to do.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice deep and husky as he uttered the word.

She felt a shiver run down her back as she heard him speak her name, but she tried not to show the sudden effect he had on her. “What do you want?”

“Why don’t we talk?” he asked, nudging his chin in the direction behind her. “Somewhere private.”

She took another pull from the cigarette, blowing it out as she dropped it on the ground, putting it out with her boot again. She glanced up at him with a smile, tilting her head with curiosity. “Only if you got something stronger.”

His smirk widened as he offered her his arm, waiting for her to take it. She lifted her eyebrows in an amused, silent ‘really?’, before she stepped forward, her heels echoing on the floors as she walked towards the elevators. She stepped in and waited for him, feeling her stomach turn as he pressed the last button, ‘50’ for the penthouses. They stood in silence as the elevator moved up the floors, but she was very aware of his eyes on her when she wasn’t looking. The doors opened to the 50th floor, letting them walk out into the short hallway to the door that had “Soldier Boy” in shiny gold letters. He tapped in a few numbers into the keypad, the green light allowing him to open the wooden door into his loft.

Y/N sauntered in, taking in the décor around her and noting the theme was of course the same as his look and aesthetic. Dark shades of green in the rug and the cushions on the black leather couch, gold flakes in the black marble of the bar in the corner of the room, a gold bust of a Bald Eagle with its wings spread as the centerpiece on the surface. It was his all-American hero persona all over the apartment, and if she wasn’t itching to find out what he wanted she’d be impressed. She watched as he walked over to the bar, his suit tight and accentuating all the right parts of him. He picked the decanter filled with bourbon and poured a generous amount into two tumblers, reaching under the bar to retrieve the small bag of coke he always kept there.

“So… you wanted to talk?” she asked as she wandered over to the bar.

“All that fun you were having back there…” he started, as he made short lines of coke with his knife across the top of the bar. “It’s a fucking problem, and we’re gonna do something about it.”

Their eyes locked briefly as he offered her the rolled up dollar bill, before she bent down and snorted the first line, throwing her head back to inhale it properly. She did the same with her left nostril, wiping up the remaining powder that had fallen on her lips and rubbing it on her gums. She picked up the tumbler and took a sip, moving away from the bar and taking in the view from the floor-to-ceiling window.

“The crab cakes were fucking better than this coke; not such a crime to enjoy that,” she stated.

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me, sugar.”

She turned around, staring him down as he did the same with her, both trying to figure each other out and as quickly as possible. The air around them was thick with tension, and it was going to go one of two ways.

“I wasn’t doing anything other supes haven’t done,” she reasoned, shrugging her shoulders. “Give these guys a great pair of tits and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of and they’re drooling like dogs with a fucking bone.”

His expression was blank, completely unimpressed with her pretense. He leaned down towards the bar, pinching the side of his nose as he dragged it across the surface, snorting up the white substance. He leaned back as he sniffed, humming softly as his eyes opened, glancing back at her with a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Whatever you’re tryin’ to get outta those shareholders back there, tryin’ to convince them by letting them put their hands all over you… they just want a couple hours between your legs and won’t give you what you want.”

“And you know what I want?” she asked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

“You want to join Payback,” he replied, as he walked towards her, slowly. “And there’s only one way you can.”

“Really?” she scoffed. She looked up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes, knowing what he was implying, but choosing to rile him up. “How?”

“Isn’t it fucking obvious?” he thew back, his features pulling into a deep glare. She was hitting a nerve already.

“No, what’s obvious… is that you’re fucking jealous of all the attention being on me,” she replied, calmly. She squared her shoulders, unafraid of him even as he stood taller than her. “You can’t stand the fact that someone might take your spotlight. That you don’t get a say about what happens with Payback anymore. Everyone knows Noir’s the only valuable player for Vought. The rest of you… you’re gonna end up C-listers, with crummy deals at amusement parks and running Herogasm into the fucking ground.”

“Watch it, Y/N,” he warned.

“And as for you…” she chuckled. The sound was almost evil. “You know they’re all just humoring you, right? Countess, the twins… I mean fuck, even Edgar just gives you shit to do so he doesn’t actually have to deal with you. He’s probably got a replacement lined up for you already.”

Soldier Boy’s jaw clenched as he scowled down at Y/N, reaching forward and grasping her arm in his tight grip. The glass fell out of her hold, shattering on the floor as he pinned her hand to the wall behind her, pressing his body into hers to keep her from escaping. She growled as she struggled against his strength, lifting her free arm to swipe at him, but he was too quick for her, repeating the action and holding it to the wall. She glared up at him, breathing heavily as her forearms started to heat up, her skin covered with an orange glow. He grunted as it singed the flesh of his palms, but he made no move to let her go.

“Are we gonna fight or fuck this out? ‘Cause I’m getting some really mixed signals here,” she snapped between gritted teeth.

The heat under his palms became overwhelming, causing him to step back as he groaned. Y/N raised her curled fist, ready to strike him but a gasp escaped her as he pushed her back against the wall once more, his hand around her neck. Their gazes locked as they glared at each other, an eerie silence falling between them, both of them waiting to see what the other was going to do. It seemed they both had the same thought, their lips meeting in a rough, searing kiss as her hands fell to his shoulders, pulling him closer. Their mouths moved together, each of them fighting for dominance over the other, her grip tightening as she tried to get control over him. She bit down on his bottom lip, her teeth nipping the skin hard, a growl leaving him as he pulled back. He swiped his thumb across his lips to check if he was bleeding, seeing a spot of crimson on the tip.

“Oops,” she whispered, smirking at him.

“Is that all you got?” he questioned, his eyes darkening as he pressed down on her neck.

She wheezed slightly, chuckling as she scowled up at him. “I don’t think you want to see my worst.”

She lifted her hand, the tips of her fingers lighting up with embers, slowly developing into small flames. She raised an eyebrow as they continued to look at each other, the flames diminishing as he eased his grip, his hands landing on her hips. He turned her around and slammed her down on the bar, the decanters of liquor falling off the surface from the force of her landing and smashing on the ground. Their lips met again, just as rough and frantic as before, their hands snatching at each other’s suits trying to get them off. He pulled down the zipper of her latex bodysuit, peeling it off her shoulders and down to her hips, his mouth traveling down her jaw, neck and down to her breasts, his teeth nipping harshly at her skin. She let out a guttural moan as her hand pulled at his soft hair, a frustrated growl escaping him as she forced his eyes to meet hers.

“I think I’d rather have that mouth between my legs,” she ordered.

He snatched her hand away, gripping it tight between his fingers, slowly twisting it back as his green orbs blazed with anger. “I don’t get on my fucking knees for anyone, doll.”

“Too hard at your age?” she mocked, cackling.

Soldier Boy glared down at Y/N as he pulled her fingers back, a harsh grunt passing her lips at the force, fearing he would snap them clean off. She squared her shoulders, tugged her hand out of his grasp, pressing both of them against his clothed chest and pushing him back with all her strength. He yelled as he skidded across the marble floor, his back hitting the leg of the dining table, causing it to shift back several inches. He stared back at her as his rage continued to grow, watching as she sauntered over to him, half-naked, the broken glass on the ground crunching under her heeled boots. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she wriggled her fingers, small embers turning into short flames as she rubbed them together, taunting him.

“You’re gonna fucking regret that,” he threatened, slowly rising to his feet.

She moved closer to him, tilting her head so that her mouth was inches from his. “Let’s see you fucking try.”

 She reached for the tactical vest he was wearing, unbuckling it quickly before ripping open the gathered collar of his suit just as fast. He flicked her hands away, grabbing her by her hips and taking control, turning around and pushing her down on the table. She grinned wickedly as her face pressed into the wooden surface, letting his hands roughly peel her suit down her body, her boot-clad legs and tossing it aside once it fell around her feet. He removed the top of his suit, kicking her legs apart as he unzipped his pants, stroking himself as he lined up to her entrance. He placed his hand between her thighs, his fingers feeling how wet she was already, bringing a smirk to his face as he brought them to his mouth and sucked at her arousal.

In one quick thrust of his hips, his cock was sheathed by her walls, a loud moan escaping her as she felt the stretch. He wasted no time, setting a brutal pace to his thrusts, fucking into her hard and fast. He grunted as his fingernails dug into the skin of her hips, his pelvis smacking against the curve of her ass as he continued to pound into her. The table shook under their weight, the creaking getting as loud as the sounds of pleasure coming from both of them, the wood starting to crack at the legs.

A squeal left her as one of the legs gave way, the table tilting as it broke from the force of their rigorous movement. He caught her in his arms just in time, her back pressing into his bare chest as he pulled her back. She laughed as she shook her head, rolling it back onto his shoulder as his hand slid up the front of her body, his fingers curling around her neck. She moaned wantonly as he applied pressure, his hips unrelenting as he felt the way she clenched around him so perfectly.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, wrapping his arm around her hips to keep her close. “Stretched so perfect around my-”

She reached back and smacked her palm around his mouth, rasping short breaths leaving her. “Shut up.”

He suddenly pulled out of her, causing her to whine at the loss of him. He grabbed her by her arms and walked her towards the wall, pushing her up against it. He held both her wrists together in one hand against her back, leaning over her as he smirked, his cock teasing her folds.

“You fucking ass,” she muttered, sending him a glare over her shoulder. “Just put it back in.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “That kind of talk’s not gonna cut it if you get on my team, Y/N.”

His deep and husky voice in her ear sent a shiver down her spine, and he no doubt noticed. “Last I heard, it’s not your decision.”

“You couldn’t be more fucking wrong, doll,” he whispered, the words sinister as he leaned further into her.

He took hold of his cock and pushed back into her, his head tilting back with a grunt as he felt her walls around his shaft once more. A loud whimper fell from her lips as he kept the same pace as before, his hold still on her wrists as his other hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pressed her against the wall. She tried to free her hands from his grasp, but he was far stronger than her. He was the strongest of all supes, so it wasn’t a surprise. She had caught him by surprise a couple of times, but he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

“You like that, sugar?” he asked, smirking as he nuzzled his nose along her jaw. “Like the way my cock fucks you hard and fast, fucking deep into your tight little pussy…”

“Fuck,” she gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to ignore his words. She couldn’t let him know just how much she was truly basking in the feel of him inside her. “I-I…”

“Come on, doll, use your words,” he taunted, his breath fanning against her ear. “You’re gonna cum so hard on my dick, I can feel it. I can feel the way you’re squeezing around me right now, it’s gonna feel so fucking good.”

She whimpered as she tried to hold herself back, but he was right. She was already close and she needed that euphoric release from him more than her own dignity in that moment. She managed to tug her hands out of his hold, one of them reaching up and cupping his jaw tight. She dug her nails into his skin, a pained growl coming from him as embers singed his flesh. He recovered quickly, the skin healed as he lifted both her wrists and pinned them to the wall above her head, his hips smacking harder against her. She moaned as she felt the heat blaze deep in her core, the coil ready to snap at any moment.

“Better play nice, Y/N,” he husked, holding her hands in a death grip as he pressed his forehead against the side of hers. “Be a good girl and I just might take you in… I can fuck that attitude outta you everyday, it’ll be our little secret…”

She felt him deep inside, the head of his cock pressing against the wall of her cervix with each thrust. She turned her head back to stare up into his green orbs. His pupils were blown wide from the drugs and the pleasure coursing through him, and she knew they both couldn’t hold on much longer. One hard snap of his hips against her had her cry out, her walls contracting around him.

“Fuck, please,” she panted. “Please make me cum.”

He grinned as he heard the desperation in her voice. He knew he had her.

“Cum for me, doll,” he groaned, one of his hands slipping down her arm and into her hair, tugging the strands tight between his fingers. “Fucking soak my cock.”

Soldier Boy’s words were all Y/N needed to push her over the edge. A string of moans turned into a loud shriek as she felt the coil snap, her arousal covering his shaft. His own release wasn’t much further behind her, his neck strained back as his cock pulsed inside her, a drawn out “fuckkk” escaping him, spurts of seed coating her walls. He breathed heavily, trying to come down from his high as he pulled out of her, turning away to pick up the top of his suit and dress himself. She hissed as she felt the ache between her legs, pressing her thighs together to keep his cum in. She moved away from the wall, finding her suit on the floor and picking it up. She got ready quickly, zipping herself up and fixing her hair before she faced him.

They stared at each other as she felt his seed inside her, her mind making a quick note to stop at the restrooms again before heading back to the party. She spotted his drink still sitting on the bar and walked over, ignoring his gaze as she moved past him. She picked up the drink, turning around and finally meeting his eyes.

“I don’t need your approval to be in Payback,” she began, tossing back the amber liquid in one shot. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to talk to Mr. Edgar.”

“You’re wasting your fucking time with him, Y/N,” he stated, glaring back at her.

She scoffed, sauntering over to him, her heeled boots echoing on the marble floors. She looked up at him, a silence falling between them once more as they continued to figure each other out. A mischievous smile pulled at her lips as she lifted her hand, round and small embers glowing on her fingers as she smacked his cheek. He jolted slightly at the brief sting against his skin, causing her to giggle as she stepped back, relishing in the way he scowled at her.

“See you around, Ben.”

Without another glance at him, she left the glass on the bar and walked towards the door, slamming it shut behind her. Soldier Boy shook his head, his rage getting the better of him as he picked up the glass and threw it across the room, causing it to shatter into tiny pieces as it hit the wall. He had no desire to return to the party, his mood completely soured now, thanks to her.

He picked up the bottle of bourbon and the bag of coke, walking back into his room. They’d be a better use of his time than talking to any of those fucking suits at that party.

Six weeks later, Y/N AKA Ember was named the newest member of Payack. She accepted the new position and all the congratulations with a huge smile on her face, shaking the hands of her new teammates and bosses, members of the board and shareholders in Vought American, soon to become Vought International.

No matter how wide she grinned, however, she couldn’t enjoy the accolade. It was all tarnished by the events that came before, in honor of Soldier Boy’s heroic sacrifice in a nuclear blast. She wanted to be able to rub it in to him, making him jealous of all the attention she was getting and get him riled up, in hopes they’d have a repeat of what happened that night of the shareholders’ party.

It was a strange feeling, to wish that he was there. She just had a feeling that Vought wasn’t being completely honest about what happened to him. She couldn’t think about that, though.

She had a country to protect, people to save, and an image to uphold in order to help her family. That had always been her top priority.

No matter how much the greatest supe of all time plagued her thoughts.

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[anundyingfidelity]

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut. 

[read-marx-and-lenin]

I'm not sure if I should be asking this here, but would a worker-owned business be different from a """small business"""?

There are no revolutionary business structures. While the bourgeois state remains, worker co-ops, like labor unions, will only ever be making the best of a bad situation.

A proper democratic worker co-op where the workers share ownership and decisions are made collectively is fundamentally different from a privately owned small business, even under capitalism. However, "worker-owned" doesn't always mean this. Limited stock options and employee trusts are often referred to as "employee ownership" despite the business still operating as a private business run by capitalists.

Worker co-ops do offer better wages and working conditions and can raise class consciousness by means of demonstrating how the workplace can be collectively owned and operated by the workers instead of through private capitalist ownership and control, but without the support of a worker's party such co-ops would remain disjointed and vulnerable.

A worker co-op under capitalism is different from a private small business in its class character, but it is not different from a private small business in that it still must take the form of a for-profit business competing with other for-profit businesses within the capitalist marketplace. Without the benefits of a socialist government and economic system, it is limited in its ability to coordinate and cooperate with other workplaces and is often forced to prioritize profitability at the expense of other concerns.

[boin-de-bindery]

(this is the part where you find out who you are) - @kae-karo

A fanbinding of this hilarious & heartwarming Blue Lock Mall AU: thanks again to kae-karo for agreeing to let me make this! After I'd finished, I took my copy to an Auntie Anne's to mark the occasion 🥨 only recently learned that she sells pretzels across the Atlantic!

The bind includes an illustration of Hot Topic Employee Rin by nanabee ✨

This was my first time making two copies of a fic, and I ended up refining the typeset and design elements midway. The bindings are siblings rather than twins as a result, but I'm very pleased with them both. Went for a Hot Topic/2000s grunge vibe.

The cover title is a collage of lettering from the stores that the characters work at in the fic + a few others that would be familiar to American mall goers. I used printable vinyl sticker paper for the author copy, covered it with transparent film then layered metallic red HTV on top.

The personal copy has regular sticker paper for the title while the HTV is unbacked. It's hard to read on the stripy bookcloth, hence the adjustment.

clock the typo on the personal copy idk how that happened :(

This is the most thought I've put into a typeset so far. The chapters have unique character POV headings based on their employer's branding or their personal vibes (e.g. since Kaiser makes me think "expensive & European", he has a Chanel-inspired POV font). The fonts have their own credit section at the end.

Technical details:

A5 binding with rounded spine.

13 signatures of 8 sheets, for an overall page count of 416.

Glitter card stock endpaper for the author copy, regular cardstock for the personal copy.

Handsewn headbands with a ribbon bookmark.

Homemade bookcloth (heat 'n' bond method) made from a fat quarter for emo/Beetlejuice flair.

Edge painted with red metallic gouache. This stained the interior in places but, y'know, 𝖆𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖈.

One final difference between the two copies is that the author copy benefitted from the arrival of my 20-sheet guillotine. While not perfect, the edges look much more even on the author copy. This will be my main method of edge trimming going forward.