#generous benefit package

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Paying consumer debts is basically optional in the United States

The vast majority of America's debt collection targets $500-2,000 credit card debts. It is a filthy business, operated by lawless firms who hire unskilled workers drawn from the same economic background as their targets, who routinely and grotesquely flout the law, but only when it comes to the people with the least ability to pay.

America has fairly robust laws to protect debtors from sleazy debt-collection practices, notably the Fair Debt Collection Practices Act (FDCPA), which has been on the books since 1978. The FDCPA puts strict limits on the conduct of debt collectors, and offers real remedies to debtors when they are abused.

But for FDPCA provisions to be honored, they must be understood. The people who collect these debts are almost entirely untrained. The people they collected the debts from are likewise in the dark. The only specialized expertise debt-collection firms concern themselves with are a series of gotcha tricks and semi-automated legal shenanigans that let them take money they don't deserve from people who can't afford to pay it.

There's no better person to explain this dynamic than Patrick McKenzie, a finance and technology expert whose Bits About Money newsletter is absolutely essential reading. No one breaks down the internal operations of the finance sector like McKenzie. His latest edition, "Credit card debt collection," is a fantastic read:

https://www.bitsaboutmoney.com/archive/the-waste-stream-of-consumer-finance/

McKenzie describes how a debt collector who mistook him for a different PJ McKenzie and tried to shake him down for a couple hundred bucks, and how this launched him into a life as a volunteer advocate for debtors who were less equipped to defend themselves from collectors than he was.

McKenzie's conclusion is that "paying consumer debts is basically optional in the United States." If you stand on your rights (which requires that you know your rights), then you will quickly discover that debt collectors don't have – and can't get – the documentation needed to collect on whatever debts they think you owe (even if you really owe them).

The credit card companies are fully aware of this, and bank (literally) on the fact that "the vast majority of consumers, including those with the socioeconomic wherewithal to walk away from their debts, feel themselves morally bound and pay as agreed."

If you find yourself on the business end of a debt collector's harassment campaign, you can generally make it end simply by "carefully sending a series of letters invoking [your] rights under the FDCPA." The debt collector who receives these letters will have bought your debt at five cents on the dollar, and will simply write it off.

By contrast, the mere act of paying anything marks you out as substantially more likely to pay than nearly everyone else on their hit-list. Paying anything doesn't trigger forbearance, it invites a flood of harassing calls and letters, because you've demonstrated that you can be coerced into paying.

But while learning FDCPA rules isn't overly difficult, it's also beyond the wherewithal of the most distressed debtors (and people falsely accused of being debtors). McKenzie recounts that many of the people he helped were living under chaotic circumstances that put seemingly simple things "like writing letters and counting to 30 days" beyond their needs.

This means that the people best able to defend themselves against illegal shakedowns are less likely to be targeted. Instead, debt collectors husband their resources so they can use them "to do abusive and frequently illegal shakedowns of the people the legislation was meant to benefit."

Here's how this debt market works. If you become delinquent in meeting your credit card payments ("delinquent" has a flexible meaning that varies with each issuer), then your debt will be sold to a collector. It is packaged in part of a large spreadsheet – a CSV file – and likely sold to one of 10 large firms that control 75% of the industry.

The "mom and pops" who have the other quarter of the industry might also get your debt, but it's more likely that they'll buy it as a kind of tailings from one of the big guys, who package up the debts they couldn't collect on and sell them at even deeper discounts.

The people who make the calls are often barely better off than the people they're calling. They're minimally trained and required to work at a breakneck pace. Employee turnover is 75-100% annually: imagine the worst call center job in the world, and then make it worse, and make "success" into a moral injury, and you've got the debt-collector rank-and-file.

To improve the yield on this awful process, debt collection companies start by purging these spreadsheets of likely duds: dead people, people with very low credit-scores, and people who appear on a list of debtors who know their rights and are likely to stand on them (that's right, merely insisting on your rights can ensure that the entire debt-collection industry leaves you alone, forever).

The FDPCA gives you rights: for example, you have the right to verify the debt and see the contract you signed when you took it on. The debt collector who calls you almost certainly does not have that contract and can't get it. Your original lender might, but they stopped caring about your debt the minute they sold it to a debt-collector. Their own IT systems are baling-wire-and-spit Rube Goldberg machines that glue together the wheezing computers of all the companies they've bought over the last 25 years. Retrieving your paperwork is a nontrivial task, and the lender doesn't have any reason to perform it.

Debt collectors are bottom feeders. They are buying delinquent debts at 5 cents on the dollar and hoping to recover 8 percent of them; at 7 percent, they're losing money. They aren't "large, nationally scaled, hypercompetent operators" – they're shoestring operations that can only be viable if they hire unskilled workers and fail to train them.

They are subject to automatic damages for illegal behavior, but they still break the law all the time. As McKenzie writes, a debt collector will "commit three federal torts in a few minutes of talking to a debtor then follow up with a confirmation of the same in writing." A statement like "if you don’t pay me I will sue you and then Immigration will take notice of that and yank your green card" makes the requisite three violations: a false threat of legal action, a false statement of affiliation with a federal agency, and "a false alleged consequence for debt nonpayment not provided for in law."

If you know this, you can likely end the process right there. If you don't, buckle in. The one area that debt collectors invest heavily in is the automation that allows them to engage in high-intensity harassment. They use "predictive dialers" to make multiple calls at once, only connecting the collector to the calls that pick up. They will call you repeatedly. They'll call your family, something they're legally prohibited from doing except to get your contact info, but they'll do it anyway, betting that you'll scrape up $250 to keep them from harassing your mother.

These dialing systems are far better organized than any of the company's record keeping about what you owe. A company may sell your debt on and fail to keep track of it, with the effect that multiple collectors will call you about the same debt, and even paying off one of them will not stop the other.

Talking to these people is a bad idea, because the one area where collectors get sophisticated training is in emptying your bank account. If you consent to a "payment plan," they will use your account and routing info to start whacking your bank account, and your bank will let them do it, because the one part of your conversation they reliably record is this payment plan rigamarole. Sending a check won't help – they'll use the account info on the front of your check to undertake "demand debits" from your account, and backstop it with that recorded call.

Any agreement on your part to get on a payment plan transforms the old, low-value debt you incurred with your credit card into a brand new, high value debt that you owe to the bill collector. There's a good chance they'll sell this debt to another collector and take the lump sum – and then the new collector will commence a fresh round of harassment.

McKenzie says you should never talk to a debt collector. Make them put everything in writing. They are almost certain to lie to you and violate your rights, and a written record will help you prove it later. What's more, debt collection agencies just don't have the capacity or competence to engage in written correspondence. Tell them to put it in writing and there's a good chance they'll just give up and move on, hunting softer targets.

One other thing debt collectors due is robo-sue their targets, bulk-filing boilerplate suits against debtors, real and imaginary. If you don't show up for court (which is what usually happens), they'll get a default judgment, and with it, the legal right to raid your bank account and your paycheck. That, in turn, is an asset that, once again, the debt collector can sell to an even scummier bottom-feeder, pocketing a lump sum.

McKenzie doesn't know what will fix this. But Michael Hudson, a renowned scholar of the debt practices of antiquity, has some ideas. Hudson has written eloquently and persuasively about the longstanding practice of jubilee, in which all debts were periodically wiped clean (say, whenever a new king took the throne, or once per generation):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/24/grandparents-optional-party/#jubilee

Hudson's core maxim is that "debt's that can't be paid won't be paid." The productive economy will have need for credit to secure the inputs to their processes. Farmers need to borrow every year for labor, seed and fertilizer. If all goes according to plan, the producer pays off the lender after the production is done and the goods are sold.

But even the most competent producer will eventually find themselves unable to pay. The best-prepared farmer can't save every harvest from blight, hailstorms or fire. When the producer can't pay the creditor, they go a little deeper into debt. That debt accumulates, getting worse with interest and with each bad beat.

Run this process long enough and the entire productive economy will be captive to lenders, who will be able to direct production for follies and fripperies. Farmers stop producing the food the people need so they can devote their land to ornamental flowers for creditors' tables. Left to themselves, credit markets produce hereditary castes of lenders and debtors, with lenders exercising ever-more power over debtors.

This is socially destabilizing; you can feel it in McKenzie's eloquent, barely controlled rage at the hopeless structural knot that produces the abusive and predatory debt industry. Hudson's claim is that the rulers of antiquity knew this – and that we forgot it. Jubilee was key to producing long term political stability. Take away Jubilee and civilizations collapse:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/08/jubilant/#construire-des-passerelles

Debts that can't be paid won't be paid. Debt collectors know this. It's irrefutable. The point of debt markets isn't to ensure that debts are discharged – it's to ensure that every penny the hereditary debtor class has is transferred to the creditor class, at the hands of their fellow debtors.

In her 2021 Paris Review article "America's Dead Souls," Molly McGhee gives a haunting, wrenching account of the debts her parents incurred and the harassment they endured:

https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2021/05/17/americas-dead-souls/

After I published on it, many readers wrote in disbelief, insisting that the debt collection practices McGhee described were illegal:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/19/zombie-debt/#damnation

And they are illegal. But debt collection is a trade founded on lawlessness, and its core competence is to identify and target people who can't invoke the law in their own defense.

Going to Defcon this weekend? I’m giving a keynote, “An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet’s Enshittification and Throw it Into Reverse,” today (Aug 12) at 12:30pm, followed by a book signing at the No Starch Press booth at 2:30pm!

https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=50826

I’m kickstarting the audiobook for “The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation,” a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and bring back the old, good internet. It’s a DRM-free book, which means Audible won’t carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

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/2023/08/12/do-not-pay/#fair-debt-collection-practices-act

[nasa]

Athletes Go for the Gold with NASA Spinoffs

NASA technology tends to find its way into the sporting world more often than you’d expect. Fitness is important to the space program because astronauts must undergo the extreme g-forces of getting into space and endure the long-term effects of weightlessness on the human body. The agency’s engineering expertise also means that items like shoes and swimsuits can be improved with NASA know-how.

As the 2024 Olympics are in full swing in Paris, here are some of the many NASA-derived technologies that have helped competitive athletes train for the games and made sure they’re properly equipped to win.

The LZR Racer reduces skin friction drag by covering more skin than traditional swimsuits. Multiple pieces of the water-resistant and extremely lightweight LZR Pulse fabric connect at ultrasonically welded seams and incorporate extremely low-profile zippers to keep viscous drag to a minimum.

Swimsuits That Don’t Drag

When the swimsuit manufacturer Speedo wanted its LZR Racer suit to have as little drag as possible, the company turned to the experts at Langley Research Center to test its materials and design. The end result was that the new suit reduced drag by 24 percent compared to the prior generation of Speedo racing suit and broke 13 world records in 2008. While the original LZR Racer is no longer used in competition due to the advantage it gave wearers, its legacy lives on in derivatives still produced to this day.

Trilion Quality Systems worked with NASA’s Glenn Research Center to adapt existing stereo photogrammetry software to work with high-speed cameras. Now the company sells the package widely, and it is used to analyze stress and strain in everything from knee implants to running shoes and more.

High-Speed Cameras for High-Speed Shoes

After space shuttle Columbia, investigators needed to see how materials reacted during recreation tests with high-speed cameras, which involved working with industry to create a system that could analyze footage filmed at 30,000 frames per second. Engineers at Adidas used this system to analyze the behavior of Olympic marathoners' feet as they hit the ground and adjusted the design of the company’s high-performance footwear based on these observations.

Martial artist Barry French holds an Impax Body Shield while former European middle-weight kickboxing champion Daryl Tyler delivers an explosive jump side kick; the force of the impact is registered precisely and shown on the display panel of the electronic box French is wearing on his belt.

One-Thousandth-of-an-Inch Punch

In the 1980s, Olympic martial artists needed a way to measure the impact of their strikes to improve training for competition. Impulse Technology reached out to Glenn Research Center to create the Impax sensor, an ultra-thin film sensor which creates a small amount of voltage when struck. The more force applied, the more voltage it generates, enabling a computerized display to show how powerful a punch or kick was.

Astronaut Sunita Williams poses while using the Interim Resistive Exercise Device on the ISS. The cylinders at the base of each side house the SpiraFlex FlexPacks that inventor Paul Francis honed under NASA contracts. They would go on to power the Bowflex Revolution and other commercial exercise equipment.

Weight Training Without the Weight

Astronauts spending long periods of time in space needed a way to maintain muscle mass without the effect of gravity, but lifting free weights doesn’t work when you’re practically weightless. An exercise machine that uses elastic resistance to provide the same benefits as weightlifting went to the space station in the year 2000. That resistance technology was commercialized into the Bowflex Revolution home exercise equipment shortly afterwards.

Want to learn more about technologies made for space and used on Earth? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[gaylienz]

The 7 R’s of Sustainability:

Did you know that ‘recycling’ is step 6 of the 7 Rs of sustainability? The other R’s are just as important even if they are often forgotten.

Rethink- Do I really need to buy this? The point of this step is to stop and think.

Refuse- Does this product damage the environment? If so, refuse to spend your money on it. i.e. single use plastics, harsh chemicals

Reduce- How much of this do I really need? Buy less! Buy in bulk when you can as it often equals less packaging to throw out.

Reuse- Can I use this product again? Can I fix what I have so that I don’t need to buy something new? Reuse that plastic water bottle a few times. And instead of buying new, try thrift shopping, flea markets, yard sales etc.

Repurpose- Unlimited creativity! Does this item have another use? i.e. old torn clothes can be rags or plastic cups can be planters.

Recycle- Can I recycle this? Not everything can be. There are also some important steps to making sure your recycling is done properly. If unsure, look up local recycling regulations.

Rot- Can I compost this? Food waste, yard clippings, newspapers and many other items can be composted instead of being tossed in the trash. Composting is surprisingly simple and helps reduce harmful greenhouse gasses from entering the atmosphere.

What is the point of the R’s? The number one benefit of the 7 R’s are the reduction of the amount of waste sent to incinerators and landfills. The EPA website provides a lot of useful information. Other benefits that we can reap from implementing these concepts in our life are (as listed on the EPA website): • Prevents pollution caused by reducing the need to harvest new raw materials • Saves energy from not making a new product • Reduces greenhouse gas emissions that contribute to climate change • Helps sustain the environment and natural resources for future generations • Saves money from processing our waste • Increases economic security by tapping a domestic source of materials • Helps create jobs in the recycling and manufacturing industries in the United States

https://www.northglenn.org/government/departments/public_works/trash/recycling.php https://www.nrdc.org/stories/composting-101 https://www.epa.gov/recycle https://www.northglenn.org/Recycling%20Article.pdf

[clinicse]

DCİDENTALCLİNİC - DEVASA+ (3)

Are you considering enhancing your smile and wondering about the costs involved? If so, you’re not alone. Turkey has emerged as a popular destination for dental procedures, particularly for implants and veneers, thanks to its affordable prices and high-quality care. In this post, we'll explore the pricing of dental implants in Turkey, providing insights into what factors influence these costs. Additionally, we will dive into the world of dental veneers and crowns available in Antalya, showcasing their benefits and how they contribute to an overall radiant smile. 

İmplant turkey price

When considering dental implants, one of the most crucial factors that patients assess is the cost. İmplant turkey price are generally more affordable compared to many Western countries, making it a popular destination for those seeking dental treatments. The average implant turkey price can range from $300 to $800 per implant, depending on various factors such as the clinic's location, the expertise of the dentist, and the quality of materials used.

Another important aspect to consider is the all-inclusive packages offered by many dental clinics in Turkey. These packages often cover the entire treatment process, including pre-operative consultations, post-operative care, and sometimes even accommodations. This makes the overall dental experience not only economical but also convenient for international patients traveling for treatment.

It’s essential to conduct thorough research before selecting a clinic. Reading patient reviews, verifying the credentials of the dentist, and understanding what the quoted implant turkey price includes can help ensure a successful and satisfying dental procedure. With the right information at hand, patients can make informed decisions regarding their dental implants and en

Dental veneers antalya

When considering dental veneers Antalya, it's essential to understand both the aesthetic and functional benefits they offer. These thin shells of porcelain or composite resin are designed to cover the front surface of teeth, providing an enhanced appearance. Patients often choose veneers for their ability to correct issues such as discoloration, minor misalignments, and gaps, significantly improving their smiles.

The cost of dental veneers in Antalya can vary depending on several factors, including the type of material used and the complexity of the case. Generally, the prices are more affordable compared to many Western countries, making Antalya a popular destination for those seeking cosmetic dental treatments. Additionally, many dental clinics offer packages that include consultations and follow-up care.

For anyone considering dental veneers, it’s best to consult with a qualified dentist who specializes in cosmetic dentistry. They will provide patients with an understanding of the procedure, the expected results, and any potential risks. With the right guidance, achieving a perfect smile with dental veneers in Antalya can be a rewarding experience.

Dental veneers turkey

When it comes to achieving a perfect smile, dental veneers offer a transformative solution. In Turkey, the rise of cosmetic dentistry has made it an attractive destination for those seeking affordable and high-quality dental care. The process of applying veneers involves the placement of thin porcelain shells over the front of the teeth, which can enhance their appearance and address various aesthetic concerns.

What makes Turkey a popular choice for dental veneers Turkey is not just the competitive pricing but also the high standards of dental practice. Many Turkish dental clinics have state-of-the-art technology and experienced professionals who specialize in cosmetic procedures. This combination allows patients to receive top-notch care while enjoying significant cost savings compared to procedures in other countries.

Patients from around the world visit Turkey for dental veneers due to the country's reputation for excellent service and patient satisfaction. With personalized treatment plans and a focus on aesthetics, Turkish dentists help individuals achieve their desired smile. Whether addressing discoloration, gaps, or misalignment, veneers in Turkey can provide a stunning and natural-looking outcome.

Dental crowns antalya

When it comes to enhancing your smile, dental crowns are a popular choice among patients seeking both aesthetic and functional improvements. In Antalya, the demand for quality dental services has surged, particularly for procedures like dental crowns. These crowns are custom-made caps that cover damaged or weakened teeth, providing strength and support while also improving overall appearance.

The benefits of choosing dental crowns Antalya are numerous. Not only are they crafted from high-quality materials, but the cost is also significantly lower compared to many Western countries. This means you can achieve a beautiful and healthy smile without breaking the bank. The combination of skilled dental professionals and modern technology ensures a high success rate and patient satisfaction.

Moreover, many clinics in Antalya offer comprehensive packages that include consultations, x-rays, and post-treatment care, making the entire process seamless.

[lavandulawrites]

Sumeru’s Damsel In Distress

Yandere Alhaitham, yandere Cyno, yandere Kaveh, yandere Tighnari x female reader (not separate)

Part 2

I was wishing for Sethos and managed to get c3 Alhaitham (he was c0). When I played Cyno’s story quest earlier today I got the idea for this fic. (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Synopsis: You are invited to Alhaitham and Kaveh’s house among with your two friends, to taste their new tea.

Masterlist

Warnings: drugging, imprisonment

Word count: 1974

Kaveh had been stirring the tea for 5 minutes straight. The cup was in a beautiful dark green design with little flowers. The tea spoon was engraved with flower details and must have cost a small fortune. You were sitting on the divan to the left of Kaveh. He had prepared some tea for the five of you and brought it out in the little salon in his and Alhaitham’s house. The tea set was beautiful and luxurious, a good fit for Kaveh’s exquisite tastes. Tighnari and Cyno was sitting opposite of you and Alhaitham to your left.

The window behind you were open and the curtains fluttered in the warm summer wind. The flowers on the windowsill colourful and clearly thriving in the heat. The garden behind the house well attended and beautiful.

You fiddled with your bracelet. Your gaze flickered up and your eyes met orange ones. The general mahamattra’s eyes were watchful. His white brows furrowed slightly.

Tighnari eyed Kaveh’s stirring intensely.

The blond smiled. “I saw your new book in the bookstore today. I must say the design you chose is absolutely stunning” his voice eager. “I started reading it, but unfortunately I haven’t had the time to finish it yet” he laughed sheepishly. The spoon in his hand still stirring in an almost robotic manner.

The dark haired fox stilled Kaveh’s hand and muttered something between his sharp teeth. The architect nodded slightly and stilled his movement.

“Your novel is definitely one of the best I have read. Your sight on humanity and morals are really interesting as well as your storytelling. I am impressed” Alhaitham drew your attention away from the forest ranger and the architect. His lips twisted up into a small smile.

Kaveh sat your teacup in front off you and smiled. “The instructions on the package said to stir it good, so sorry for the wait” he laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay” you shook your head.

Kaveh poured the steaming hot tea into four cups for each of the men. He stirred them, but not as long as he had with yours. When you were about to open your mouth, Tighnari chimed in “When you stir it extra long, the taste is milder. We know how you prefer your tea mild”.

You picked up the teacup. It was hot, but not too hot. The aroma slightly sweet. You caught your reflection in the dark surface. A sudden bad feeling crept through your veins and your hand stilled.

Noticing your hesitation, Alhaitham spoke up. “Are you alright?” his voice concerned.

“Yeah, I just got lost in thought…” you smiled slightly. With a slightly trembling hand you brought the cup to your lips. You didn’t know why you had such a bad feeling. You wanted to brush it off, but something told you to trust your instincts.

Tighnari cleared his throat. “This blend has great health benefits so I would advise you to drink it” despite his soft voice, you could make out the sternness hidden beneath it.

A weak “Yeah” escaped your lips.

You wrapped your lips carefully around the rim and swallowed. The tea was slightly sweet and a little bitter, but overall pleasant. You swallowed and lowered the cup.

As your gaze went between the four men before you, you noticed the hint of relief in their expressions. Kaveh grinned beside you and lifted his cup. “Let’s toast to [Name]’s newest book!”

The five off you brought your cups over the table and clinked them against each others. You did not miss how they exchanged glances. Their eyes swirling with a deep emotion you couldn’t quite place. It sent shivers down your spine and you gulped. Alhaitham’s ever so observant eyes didn’t miss the shift in your manner.

Time blended together as you talked about all and nothing. Your uneasiness had long passed and the house was filled with laughter. As time went on you felt slightly drowsy and you casted a glance over at the clock on the wall. It was time for you to head home.

You cleared throat “I think it’s time for me to head home. Thanks for having me, Alhaitham and Kaveh. I have had so much fun”. You smiled and was about to stand up when Kaveh placed a hand on your shoulder, making you sit down again. “Wait a moment. I will bring you some food to go. We didn’t eat it all so there’s plenty left!” his smile didn’t reach his eyes which were wide and frantic. As he made his way to the kitchen he bumped into different things and almost tilted Cyno’s glass over. Alhaitham eyed the blond with an unreadable expression.

“Are you tired, [Name]?” Cyno’s voice soft. He reached his hand over the table and gently grasped yours. The skin on his fingertips rough after many years of wielding his spear. On the back of your hand his long finger drew circles in a soothing manner.

“I am, that’s why I should head home” your eyelids slightly heavy as you blinked.

The hazel eyed man sighed softly “Why don’t you rest your eyes?”.

Your eyes flickered up to met the fox’s predatory eyes. His expression soft and yearning. A expression one reserved towards their lover.

“I really should… go… home…” your speech became slurred as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

Kaveh entered the room and paused in the opening. Why was his hands empty? Didn’t he say he would bring you some food you could take with you home?

“It finally took affect. I really started to stress out” the blond sighed out in relief.

“I told you I would time it correctly, didn’t I?” Tighnari answered him.

What were they talking about? You leaned back against the backrest, your head heavy and feeling like it was filled with cotton. Your mind drifting. Voices broke through your sleepy state.

“Is she fully out now?”

“Not yet. I would give it a few more minutes.”

“I have already sent her editor a letter in case she wonders where she has gone.”

“It is almost frightening how naive she is… We really did the right thing.”

Strong arms snaked underneath you and cradled you against his chest. A deep voice sounded in your ear “We will take good care of you. No one will hurt you now”.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a unfamiliar ceiling. Daylight swept through the curtains and lit up the room. Your head was hammering and your body felt numb. You scanned the room as a attempt to understand where you were. The room was decorated with flowers and delicate trinkets. It was decorated exactly as you would decorate it…

You removed the sheets and sat upright. The covers were soft and a pale pink colour. You didn’t wear the clothes you wore last night, but a rose pink nightdress. The fabric was silky and beautiful. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You carefully sat down one foot, then the other and slowly rose. You were wobbly and slightly off balance, but you managed to make your way over to the door that seem to lead outside the bedroom.

You slowly opened the door and peered out into the hallway. The interior was the same as that of Alhaitham and Kaveh’s house. Weird. You stopped in your tracks as you tried to recall the night before. None of you had engaged in alcohol. In fact the only beverages you drank were tea and water.

You walked down the hallway as you studied your surroundings. You had been to the scribe’s house before, but you had never been to that part of the house. You stopped before two green tainted glass doors. You could hear the faint sound of voices. Even though you did not hear what they said, you recognised them. It was the voices of your four trusted friends.

You opened the door quietly and entered the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked bread made your stomach slightly growl. The fennec fox had his gaze fixed on you as you entered the kitchen. He had without doubt heard you the moment you stood up from you bed.

At the sound of your stomach, the white haired man turned his head to face you. “You are finally awake. Kaveh already baked some bread. We thought you would be quiet hungry when you woke up” his expression soft and on his mouth was a gentle smile.

You blinked. The kitchen table was set to five. Alhaitam stood by the coffee grinder. His green orange gaze set on you. Kaveh stormed towards you and took your hands in his. “I hope you are hungry! There’s plenty off food, so eat as much as you want!”

You tried to wry your hands out of his grasp, but it proved to be an impossible task. He was really strong, not surprising when he wielded a claymore. “Why am I here?” your question snapped Kaveh out of his cheerfulness. “What happened? What the fuck did you do?” your eyes were wide in terror as you stepped back.

The blond tightened his hold on your small hands. His expression was dark. “We did this to protect you” his answer curt.

The grey haired scribe stepped in and placed a hand on his senior’s shoulder. Kaveh hesitated before he released your hands.

You quickly stepped back. The wall hit you back, making you slightly lose balance. You were trapped. Tears welled up in your eyes. Why didn’t they tell you that this was only a misunderstanding?

“You are going to stay here. This is your new home. Forget about the outside world. It will only do you harm” Alhaitam’s stern voice snapping you out of your tears.

“Yeah, me and Cyno will stay here when our schedules allows us. This is truly for the best” Tighnari smiled. “Why don’t you get something to eat, hmm? You will feel better when you have some food in your stomach” he pulled out a chair for you to sit. “I will get you some medicine too. I can imagine that you have quite the headache now”.

Cyno placed his hand firmly on your lower back and guided you to the table. He looked at you sternly and you sat down. Tighnari gave you some medicine which tasted bitter.

“I still don’t understand…”

“Why did you kidnap me?” you looked up at the four men with a sacred expression.

“It’s not technically kidnapping as you already were in their house…” Cyno remarked.

“Shut it Cyno” Tighnari snapped. “Be a little but more mindful. Her fear is a natural response”.

Cyno held his hands up in a defensive way and muttered a “sorry”.

“We have noticed that you often find yourself in dangerous situations and we think that staying here, is for the best” Kaveh had kneeled down besides you. His hand gently holding yours. “We know all too well how cruel humans can be and we wish to protect you. You are too precious after all, darling” his red eyes laced with obsession mixed with a love deeper than any well.

You swallowed thickly. The situation you found yourself in really started to dawn on you. You were absolutely helpless. There were no chance in hell that you would escape the clutches of the unforgiving general, the intelligent scribe, the passionate architect and the cunning forest ranger. You were truly doomed.

“It seems you finally realise your place. Good” the scribe patted you gently on your head. “Just you wait, it won’t take long before you realise this is where you belong”.

Soft lips met your cheek as you started off into the distance. As the grey haired man lips made contact with your skin, you knew your fate was sealed.

[blogborsa]

CREVH - GOLD

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[rotzaprachim]

the funniest possible thing obviously is jyn and cinta staring from across the space!hilton bar at That Couple whom they can both Never Have and Pining Away and deciding to do something about it all to deal with the frustration. which ends up with cinta and jyn in a not particularly romantic but very emotionally attached (even if they will never admit it) sexual relationship and vel and cassian involved in a very awkward shape of polycule that is in rebellion terms common-law married for real

what no one has done nearly enough with is vel and cassian (or more likely, joreth sward or someone) having a lavender marriage for the Rebellion. vel needs a more convenient Cover for not being a nice heterosexually married Chandrilan Lady and the rebellion needs to sink another long term sleeper agent into the Chandrilan elite to pass money and information around. Vel and Cassian think they're going to kill each other in the first week or be immediately found out but the thing is that because they have a shared purpose and don't actively hate each other's guts they can grit their teeth and Bear It for the rebellion and in comparison to the *rest* of *real* Chandrilan couples this is an absolute dream relationship, so everyone's after Vel for marriage advice

enter jyn and cinta. for maximum drama

[kitasgloves]

— ♬ NSFW

Having intense thoughts about fem! FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY, or rather FYODORA DOSTOEVSKAYA. Now, Fyodora is perceived as a maneater because of her reputation for manipulating men for her benefit. She easily captures the hearts of any man who comes across her, and then she'll leave a trail of broken hearts after. With her long raven hair, snow-like complexion, and especially her hypnotizing and alluring dark eyes, it was impossible not to gaze at her mysterious beauty. Paired with that is her unusual intelligence, she seems untouchable. Nobody has ever succeeded in tricking her or gaining her interest. Well...that was before you came into the picture.

Your entrance into Fyodora's life seemed to have answered the question of her 'dislike' for men. In her perspective, she views men as nothing but selfish and gullible creatures. So, you, a fellow woman, seemed like a refreshing breath of air. She kept to herself, but things began to slowly change after you applied for the job as her assistant.

Fyodora was gentle with you, surprisingly. She doesn't treat you with any coldness she usually does with everybody else. And you were naturally welcoming, so she took it as a sign to invite herself into your life. You were stuck by her side almost every hour. You'd serve her favorite tea whenever she's too occupied in her office. You're tasked with cleaning her workplace and constantly playing her favorite classical music. You'd often run errands for her like delivering or fetching packages, sending letters, etc. And when Fyodora feels extra generous (which was considered rare), she'll take you with her to dinner or for drinks.

You took a liking to your boss since she was considerate of you, unaware of her reputation of being a coldhearted woman. You can't help but admire Fyodora from time to time, you were attracted by her beauty. Lately, she has been inviting you to share tea with her and chat. Because of it, you've learned a fair amount about her interests. During the holidays, she would celebrate with you by inviting you to a feast with her alone. On your birthday, she gifted you your favorite book. You were blushing at the idea that Fyodora probably loved spoiling you.

And the woman did. She finds you the most entertaining and captivating compared to her previous male companions. It may be the fact that you're both women, but Fyodora knew it was something more. Your insatiable innocence, your inviting personality, the smell of your cheap perfume, and that wonderous smile on your face, lingered in her mind on a daily.

Women being attracted to women wasn't unheard of, but Fyodora being allured by a woman seems baffling. She would've preferred it if the roles were reversed, alas, it seemed like you have her wrapped around your finger.

Fyodora was sharing her afternoon tea with you, she enjoyed the solace she discovered with you. While you blabbered about your day, she can't help but let her eyes wander to your mouth. You have that soft shade of lipstick on that makes your lips look so plump that it makes her involuntary gulp. Fyodora sighs and settles her teacup down, almost shakily.

"[Name]"

"Yes, Fedya?"

"Come here"

She gestured for you to come near before patting her lap. You raised your brows and carefully put your teacup down. You reluctantly walked over and awkwardly sat on her lap. Fyodora was a tall woman, taller than average and it made you feel small. She runs a soft hand on your face, brushing away the stray hair and fixing your hair. There was a blissful smile on her features.

"You know I view you more than a subordinate, right?"

"You see me as a friend of yours?"

"Hmm, possibly more than that, dearest"

Fyodora whispers wistfully and leans closer. You immediately stopped her by placing your hands against her chest softly. She looks at you with a frown and notices the glimmering jewelry around your finger; an engagement ring. Right, you were talking about your recent engagement earlier with a wealthy man. However, this doesn't stop her from snaking her arms around your waist and pulling you close.

"Why are you flustered? This is merely platonic affection, [Name]"

Your face felt warm with how intimate Fyodora was holding you on her lap. Gently, she buries her face against the crook of your neck and greedily inhales your scent. The thought of you being taken away from her by a man fills her with contempt. She wanted you all to herself and she won't let a man of all creatures get between you and her. Suddenly, she turns to you.

"Would you do me a favor, darling?"

"Of course, what is it, Fedya?"

"Go lie on the couch over there"

And that's how you ended up with your skirt flipped up and your panties discarded while Fyodora ate you out on the couch. The pleasure of her tongue swirling around your clit and even sucking on it made your thighs shudder and your eyes roll back. Fyodora felt intoxicated with how you trapped her head between your thighs and how fucking delicious you tasted. She kept slurping up all your juices, but you kept overflowing to the point it started dripping down to her chin and even staining the couch.

You have came a couple of times by her eating you out but it seemed endless. You kept arching your back and curling your toes with how Fyodora was stealing orgasm after orgasm out of you.

"Fe—Fedya! I can't—ungh—no more, please—!"

"Oh dearest, I know you can handle one more for me"

Fyodora smiles up at you with her dark eyes and glistening mouth, her red lipstick is smudged in a debauched way. Her sharp fingernails were leaving marks on your thighs. You shook your head tiredly as you weakly pushed her head away from your pussy, she chuckles. Her eyes landed on the engagement ring on your finger, to think she had already ruined you before your future husband could fill her with pride.

"I doubt your future husband can make you feel as good as this"

She dives her face again into your cunt making you squeal as she licked a fat stripe.

"Fe—Fedya, th—this feels so wrong—"

"Only I could ever love you better than any man you'll ever meet, [Name]"

"But—nghh fuck!"

"Come on, do the thing. Yes, darling, take off your engagement ring"

With a hazy mind, you discarded your engagement ring on the nearest table. A victorious sensation swallows Fyodora as she eagerly goes to give you a tender kiss on the lips before returning to your pussy. You returned very late at home after being endlessly pleasured by her.

Fyodora smirked to herself as she busied herself with the papers on her desk. Her eyes trailed to your naked ring finger where your engagement ring used to rest in. She knew you'd fall for her and call off the engagement. She wouldn't dare let any man claim you for she felt the worthiest of you. Only she would love you, eternally.

god I really love closeted lesbian Fyofyo

[blorger]

Hello and welcome to today's instalment of "Harry doesn't know what he's feeling when he's feeling it". I'm in the middle of going through the books (for nerd reasons) and I stumbled upon this passage:

And the thing is: this happens in book 1, right at the beginning of the school year. Not only have Draco and Harry interacted very little so far but the inciting incident that made Harry react this way is peculiar.

You see, Harry here is thinking back on his first ever potions lesson, where Snape tried to humiliate him at every turn. In that scene Draco does not interact with Harry, all he does is be a gleeful spectator to the dressing down and also make potions. Literally.

Draco mentions in the scene:

The slytherin boys (or at the very least the ones Harry knows so far) are amused by Snape's roasting of Harry

2. second verse, same as the first

3. Draco is good at potions, this irritates Harry

That's literally everything. All Draco is guilty of here is being present for Harry's humiliation and being competent at something Harry is trying for the first time. Yes, he's laughing at Harry's misfortune but this is not described as a performance for his benefit (unlike in later books where Draco will make sure Harry sees him laughing at his misfortune). Harry sees Draco's reaction (and Crabbe and Goyle's) but are they the only ones laughing or are they the only ones Harry is paying attention to? Harry explicitly says, in the second passage I mentioned, that he tries not looking at Draco+ Crabbe&Goyle; this to me implies that he's especially conscious of them and their reaction.

As I remarked here about their very first interaction, Harry's feelings towards Draco are, from the get-go, more complicated and nebulous than one might think. If I had to name what sentiments Draco inspires in Harry in these first interactions, I'd say a non insignificant one is inadequacy.

We can see that during the first potions lesson, and again at the thought of a shared flying lesson, Harry very much dislikes the thought of being seen failing by Draco . Why, on Harry's very first night at Hogwarts he has a nightmare and you know who's featured prominently in it, witnessing Harry in an embarrassing situation and laughing about it? None other than Draco Lucius Malfoy.

I find this interesting because Harry claims his feelings towards Draco are similar to what he feels towards Dudley (at this point in the narrative he's remarked on it more than once) but Dudley's actions towards Harry are intentional (pre-Hogwarts dudders loves bullying Harry) whereas Draco has yet to do anything to Harry other than try really badly to befriend him (and be stung by his rejection).

Furthermore Harry, from what we see from his interactions with Dudley, does not seem to be at all self conscious of the way he behaves in front of his cousin nor does he measure his achievements by comparing them with Dudley's. I'd say his general attitude toward Dudley is dismissive, in complete contrast with the competitiveness he feels with Draco yet, somehow, Harry keeps associating the two in his mind.

There's this element of self-fulfilling prophecy in Harry and Draco's interactions (no doubt because jkr is telling us to dislike Draco before showing us why) that I never noticed before. Harry dislikes Draco at first sight (more accurately, he's unsettled by him and decide this means he dislikes him) so he's going to look for other things to dislike in order to reinforce his bias:

Draco receives packages from home? Wow, he's spoiled just like Dudley, nevermind the fact that countless other students are undoubtedly receiving just as many packages.

Draco is a competent beginner potions student? Oh wow, it's just like that git to succeed in a class taught by another git (essentially: if you're favoured by a bad person that means you're bad too)

And because these reactions don't happen in a vacuum, Draco notices them, which fuels HIS complicated emotions vis-à-vis Harry. Add all of this to the feelings of rejection he has no doubt been stewing on and voilà, you have the birth of Draco's decision to be Harry's enemy (since he can't be his friend).

tldr: Harry indadvertedly started the rivalry with Draco and Draco followed suit because negative attention is still attention.

[auckie]

You are not allowed to ask question for supplemental information on either organization

However, you may know these following facts:

The poop mines are dark and cold. You will be assigned a helmet, pickaxe, canary, tin lunch pail and matching thermos. Outside of the mines are a quarry and a toxic dumping sight where tapped veins are spilled into a reservoir, and waste is funneled from the mining operation. You risk tunnel collapse, methane poisoning, and work at night because the day time sun heats the product up and causes noxious fumes. The poop is hard and can be put into a mine cart. You do not know where it is coming from or what it is for. There is dust. There is also a union, but the poop mining operation is run by a company, complete with union busting attempts, scrip, but a very healthy benefit package.

The pee distillery is operated during daylight hours only. It is hot and you must wear a respirator, rubber gloves, boots, and apron. Oftentimes goggles are necessary too. There is no union, but you are on a salary with a less generous benefit package. If you ask about the distilled pee you will be reprimanded up to three times before being terminated with extreme prejudice.

[threepandas]

Like A Dangerous Cat: Yandere!Aizawa

See, here's the thing. (And don't get me wrong, to each their own.) I come across Yandere!Aizawa fics time and again, that forget his crucial truth. This man? THIS man... is fuckin EXHAUSTED.

No sexy body or "ooooh~ IMPRISON ME sempai~♡" energy is gonna motivate him enough to get out of his damn sleeping bag. No today, not tomorrow. Not EVER. He's best friends with Nemuri, for god's sake. He's seen finer tits for far less effort.

And HURTING you? Why would he do THAT? You got something to confess? He has more then a few cops on speed dial. He WILL if he must... but for your sake. Do Not Make Him Do That.

It's his napping time.

He gets that so, SO fucking rarely.

But! Does this mean he can not become a Yandere? Are we cursed to a hot hobo-daddy-less Yandere-free world?

The FUCK it does!

He has SO much love to give. And is that not the CORE of the Yandere? The love? The OBSESSION. Hey, real quick, how much of his personality has he completely reshaped around the hole Oboro left in his life? How far do you think he would GO for Mic? What do you think he would DO?

The thing is? He's not the sort of Yandere that would ever hurt or humiliate his Darling. Oh no, he'd sooner die. Take you all with him. No...

No he's a HERO.

He's gonna PROTECT them. Make them HAPPY. Bask in the light of it, like a cat on a sunbeam. And? HOW he protects them? What he needs to DO, to make sure everything is SAFE? That their dreams come true and their path is full of nothing but rose petal n light? Well... they don't need to know about THAT do they?

That's his JOB, isn't it?

To be a HERO. To PROTECT. Keep watch, just in case.

And? He is the sort of Yandere you'll NEVER notice. Others will. They'll never get the chance to WARN you, but they'll notice. Or, they'll already be so wrapped up in his madness, that it all feels normal.

You'll just... start finding your life easier, all of a sudden. Little things will start going your way. Then bigger and bigger. That creep who kept cat calling you? Finally stopped! The rumored pervert around the neighborhood? Caught! Oh! Look! You didn't even KNOW about this sale!

Wonder how the ad even GOT to you...

Still, you'll brush it off. Pet some cats. Wonder why all the guys who used to hit on you STOPPED. Figure they were messing with you. Oh, hey! Promotion! You buy nicer coffee for the weird hobo looking Hero that uses your balcony as a patrol rest stop.

You DID offer.

Even set up a lil coffee maker out there. Electric kettle. A lockable snack box n stuff. You figured he wouldn't trust food left to the open air. It's suspicious, right? He knocked on your sliding door and asked about it. You guys had a conversation and everything. Was pretty cool.

And? Slowly? He'll pull you in. Vague thank you notes becoming polite but generic "how are you"s. Which of course meanders in to questions about things you mention. Longer responses from you. More and more notes. Until? Oh, he just HAPPENS to be early today...

Slowly, carefully, dragging you into his friend group. Letting Mic do the heavy social lifting. Letting Nemuri do the loud girls nights. Letting you roam free, happy and oblivious. Careful as he peppers in the benefits of working for UA. Good pay, excellent protection, unmatchable care package...

Ah, but he's rambling, you were mentioning your unreasonable boss?

And of course, his friends will tease. He has a "crush". That's one word for what he feels. They suggest dates and hookups. It sounds awful. He has an almost comically low sex drive. You would too, with working hours like his. WOULD he though?

The second you showed interest. In anyway you'd have him. Like it's his life's MISSION to get you off. He'd do RESEARCH. Deep dives. Your computer? Hacked. Your search history? Gone through with a fine tooth comb. He found your smut stash WEEKS ago. Has copies of every title, been going through them like he's studying for a final.

He's been friends with Nemuri for YEARS. Knows things youve never even considered. If not from HER, then from her 18+ Hero work friends. They're loud. He's vaguely annoyed that it actually HAS become useful knowledge.

And? The thought of having you completely, taking you apart, holding you, boneless and soft and warm against him? Makes feels like some horny teenager, for how quick that does it for him. He has FANTASIES of what he would do to you, if he actually had enough time of to be well rested.

Wants to pamper you. Wants to limp, bruised and sore, to your apartment, so you'll WORRY. Want to pamper HIM. Want to focus on him. Pay attention to him. Be soft and careful and gentle with him. Your poor wounded hero...

Ah, he bets he could convince you to let him sleep, propped up in your arms.

It'd be so WARM.

In the meantime? He'll slowly get you used to him. Use Mic to do it. That's right, every hour is cuddle hour. It's good for mental health and hormonal regulation. Perfectly logical, really, to get some casual touch from trusted friends, right? Honestly, there's nothing to see here. He's harmless. Of course he can help braid your hair. Sure you can lean against him. Cold? Let's share a sleeping bag.

He's harmless.

Like a grumpy cat.

A big, dangerous cat.

[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

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

3/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 6k (whew!)

TW: Mention of miscarriage

Natasha wasn’t your first kiss but she’s the first kiss that mattered. You can remember that moment like it was yesterday. The first time she placed her lips on yours. Eleven years ago if you remember it correctly. You had recently been appointed the Creative Director at Stark Industries. Besides Pepper Potts, you were Tony's, right-hand man. You were the woman in charge of overseeing every single creative process dealing with the multibillion-dollar company. You spent more time traveling and in the office than you liked but it came with its perks. With a great salary and good benefits package you wouldn’t complain at all even if most of your time was spent rolling your eyes at the ideas Tony would come up with.

You would see Natasha briefly during your time at the tower. She would be in the room one second and gone the next. It was only after getting to know her you realized that Natasha purposely distanced herself from everyone and everything. There were only three women in the world who could scare Tony Stark. Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff, and you. You’d giggle at every snide remark Tony would make only after Natasha had left the room. You would agree with her on many of the times she put him in his place. The more you saw Natasha the more you wanted to know the woman behind the moniker Black Widow. Without knowing why you made it a mission to see more of her. So, you dropped in on Tony more. You’d ask for Natasha’s input, always remembering to include her. She tried to hide the look of surprise when you would ask her what she thought. As if her expertise was only in the field of battle.

You made her laugh on every occasion. Your thoughts were consumed by the redheaded woman with the gorgeous smile.

As Tony’s employee, you were invited to his parties. Boy, did he throw a lot of them. Many of them you would skip. No one would miss you there. At least not that you noticed. It wasn’t until the night of Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that things changed for you.

You were dressed in a sparkly black number. The dress was short and backless. It hugged your curves in all of the right places and you looked damn good. You felt sexy and ready for the new year to come. There were a few men and women eyeing you all night. Some had even dared to approach you. You didn’t care about their advances. None of them interested you when the one you truly wanted was in the very same room.

Natasha commanded the room with her presence. Every click of her heels and sway of her hips left all eyes on her. She charmed the room. She chatted, made jokes, and even kissed Rhodey on the cheek under the mistletoe leftover from Christmas. Natasha was breathtaking and yet you could tell she wasn’t having a good time. She seemed stiff and on guard. There was a certain air about her that you weren’t sure if other people picked up on. Natasha was a spy after all so she always had to be alert. You could see the way she tensed when Richard Matthews, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, placed his hand on her forearm as he flirted with her. Her eyes quickly cut to his hand before they flew back up to his face. She seemed to be analyzing his flirting but enjoying herself. She flirted back with him just as hard and for a moment you wondered if she would sleep with him that night. Natasha wasn’t yours. You were barely friends and yet the thought of her and that man being together made you sick. You felt the nausea roll over you and you excused yourself to the kitchen. Only a few of the catering staff remained as they packed up for the night. A cleaning crew would come to clean in the morning.

You waited for them to exit the kitchen before clutching the counter. You leaned your weight against it taking deep breaths as you tried to reel yourself in. You were in love with Natasha. You were in love with the Black Widow. A startling truth that had sent you spiraling. Before you could think any further on what this meant the sound of her honey-smooth voice caressed every inch of your body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” You could picture the smirk on her face as she spoke. You took another deep breath before turning to Natasha. She glanced behind her as the swinging door stood still again. Her eyes never left yours as her brows knit in concern. “Y/n, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You frowned. “I just..” Natasha waited expectantly for you to say something. She waited for you to tell her what was on your mind. You could come up with a lie and say you had too much to drink but nothing came out of your mouth. Before you could stop yourself you closed the distance between the two of you to hold Natasha’s face between your hands. You searched her eyes for any resistance, you waited for her to say no, but nothing came. Her breath caught in her chest as she waited for you to kiss her.

“Do it.” She dared you. You pounced with a fierce press of your lips to her. Your senses were overwhelmed with Natasha. She smelled delicious, tasted divine, and the feel of her pressed against you was heavenly. You were pretty sure you had died and gone to heaven as you lowered your hands to wrap around her waist. You pulled Natasha closer so that you were pressed chest to chest. The stilettos she was wearing worked to her advantage as she wrapped her arms around your neck. The sounds of the party fell on deaf ears as your tongue explore her mouth. Only when a moan left her lips did you pull back. Your eyes widened and you moved with an apology at the tip of your tongue.

“Don’t,” Natasha spoke softly. She tilted her head to kiss you again. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” She whispered.

“Really?” You asked.

“Since the day I met you.” She shrugged.

“Well, why didn’t you say anything? Or do anything?” You asked incredulously.

“I dropped hints but you’re a tough nut to crack.” Natasha reminded you. Suddenly you were pulled back to all of the times Natasha dropped by your office. She was always around whenever you had a meeting with Tony. She even texted you to ask for your coffee order a few times. Now that you think about it, it didn’t seem like she did any of the stuff she did for you for anyone else.

“Oh.” It dawned on you. Natasha’s way of flirting was different from the Black Widow’s. Her display out there with Richard was vastly different from the way she handled you.

“Yeah,” Natasha half-smiled. You could see the slight nervousness in her expression. “I’ve never done this before.” She dropped her arms to her side. You immediately missed the contact. You wanted to have her close all the time if you could. “Dated without the expectation of sex. Most of my relationships were curated for work. I-I don’t know how to be someone’s anything. For you, I’m willing to try.” The vulnerability Natasha was showing at that moment made your heart soar.

“I’m willing to try too.” You told her. You reached out your hand and she took it. You pulled her back into you. You took the lead and wrapped her arms around your neck again. It was that night you knew you were a goner. The next few months you and Natasha were inseparable. You were on cloud nine when it came to Natasha.

Everything was easier with her. The two of you had your own traumas and insecurities to work through but it was easy. Loving Natasha was easy despite how much she insisted she wasn’t made for it. As your love for her grew so did your desire to marry her. Two years into your relationship you tied the knot. You bought the very same home you grew your family in. Five bedrooms, three baths, a nice backyard for your future children to play in. Life with Natasha was everything you ever wanted. You welcomed Ryan into the world two years into your marriage. Then Emma. Life with Natasha was magical until it wasn’t.

You don’t want to dwell on the ugly too much. At least not when you’re in the arrival line of Orlando International Airport. You do focus on how the rental you’re in smells “new car fresh”. You tap your fingers against the steering wheel hoping to stave off some of your boredom. You glance around at the moving cars weaving in and out of the line when you spot them. Your family. They’re a few feet away and it’s clear they don’t notice you. You can see Natasha instruct the children to wait there as she reaches behind her in search of her carry-on. She pulls out her phone to check what you assume is her Imessage app. She checks the phone and tucks it back into her pocket. She thinks you’re not going to show. When it’s your turn you honk the horn and pull in front of them. You unbuckle your seatbelt and park the car all within a few seconds. You make sure it’s safe to open your door before exiting the car.

Natasha’s look of surprise is quickly masked by something else. She thought you would send a car for them instead. There’s a cheer from Emma as she spots you. She jumps up and down in place as she hugs her blanket to her chest.

“Mommy, you’re in Florida too?” Emma asks as you plant a kiss on the top of her head. You give Ryan a kiss on his head before grabbing at their luggage.

“Yes, I am.” You smile down at her.

“You didn’t give Mommy a kiss,” Emma points out as you place their things gently into the trunk of the car.

“Oh, it’s okay, she doesn’t need to.” Natasha dismisses but Emma’s pout grows. You realized that you two should have talked about how you were going to handle things with the kids before now.

“But Mommy always kisses hello?” Emma reminds you. She’s confused. If you both were here in the same place it must mean you were going to be together again. That meant her mommies could kiss each other again. Right?

“Emma, remember what we talked about?” You’re not seriously going to lecture her about consent in the middle of the airport but she might need a reminder.

“It’s fine,” Natasha leans over to you, placing her hand on your forearm, as she moves to kiss your cheek. She leans back with fluttering lashes as she crosses her eyes to the kids. This was not a conversation you needed to have right now. You nod and she turns to them. “Mommy is going to show us around Florida. We’re going to be staying with her on our vacation. I wanted it to be a surprise for you.” She’s lying. If you know Natasha and you do, she didn’t tell the kids to protect their hearts if you changed your mind. You didn’t blame her.

“Yeah, I’m going to show you so many cool places,” You tell them.

“Disney World?” Ryan questions.

“Whatever you want.” You tap his nose. “Now what do you say we get this show on the road before Mommy gets a ticket?” You gesture over your shoulder to the airport police hovering a few feet away. You help Emma into her booster seat while Natasha helps Ryan into his. Soon enough you’re on the road and on your way to your hotel. The car ride is relatively silent. Ryan and Emma seem to be holding their own conversation about who they’re going to see when they go to DisneyWorld. You glance over to Natasha to see that she’s watching you.

“I’m really glad you came,” You inform her. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. Again.”

She shrugs half-heartedly. What is she supposed to say? Everything she wants to say would probably be best told when the children are asleep. When you’re alone. You turn back to the road to drive as you both listen to the kids and their stories.

There’s a bit of a problem when you arrive at the hotel. The rooms you got were connected by one door. No big deal. The first room was the one you’d been sleeping in since you arrived two days ago. It was equipped with a king-sized bed, flat-screen tv, and a very impressive mini-fridge. The second bedroom had two double beds and many of the same amenities. The rooms themselves were impressive. It was the kids who made things a bit more difficult for you.

“I want my own bed.” Ryan declared as he tossed his shoes somewhere in the corner. Natasha sighed from behind him as she grabbed the offending items to place them inside the closet. Emma followed after her brother as she plopped onto the second bed.

“I want my own too.” She smiled sweetly up at you.

“Um, one of these was for your mom,” You scratch the back of your head. Natasha’s eyes fly to yours. “I just didn’t want to assume that you wanted to sleep in bed with me.” You try to mumble but by the mischievous smirk on Emma’s face, she’s heard you. What was with her and this matchmaking thing she has going on? Ryan seems to be in on it too as he looks between the two of you.

“We think the kids should have their own room. No mommies allowed.” Ryan shrugs as though he’s not trying to hurt your feelings.

“I’m being kicked out by my own kids.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “I am fine sleeping there. With you.” Natasha tries to appear nonchalant.

“Okay, well let’s take your bags right in here,” You grab for one of Natasha’s suitcases and she follows you into the next room. The door is still open when you hear Emma’s little voice trail into your room.

“Do you think they’re going to make a baby?”

“You need a penis to do that,” Ryan tells her as if it’s obvious.

Your eyes widen and look to Natasha for answers.

“There was a kid, Connie Clark, in Ryan’s class who apparently had ‘the talk’ with her parents so naturally she came to school and told everyone.” Natasha wheeled her bag to the closet. “Which means Ryan told Emma which also means I had to have a very awkward conversation with them about their bodies, autonomy, and the very, very basic parts of where babies come from.” Right. Another thing you missed. While you did find it a bit funny it was only a reminder that you were missing out on a lot. Natasha and you have always had those conversations with the kids together.

“Seems there still may be a few things we have to discuss.” Natasha shook her head. She looks at the bed and the side you’ve taken.

“I can sleep on the pull-out couch they have,” You tell her, and she holds up a hand to stop you from speaking.

“Is sleeping with me going to upset you?”

“No, no, I just don’t want to move too fast with you and mess things up.”

“Well if all we’re doing is sleeping you can’t mess things up,” Natasha assures you. She moves to pull you to sit on the bed. “I came because I wanted to. I came because I want this to work.”

“Me too,” You confess. You find yourself focusing on her lips.

“You know I never did get a proper hello kiss,” Natasha says. She leans over to caress your cheek just as you turn to her. You don’t hesitate this time. Kissing Natasha was all you ever wanted to do. It’s the first time your lips have been on hers since the day in the kitchen. On Emma’s birthday. It lasts longer than you anticipated as you allowed yourself to get lost in Natasha. It’s the sneaky giggling from behind you that causes you to pull away. You can’t tell which one of them has made those obscene kissing noises but you’re sure you can take a guess. “Our kids are assholes.” Natasha opens her eyes slightly. There’s that glint of happiness in her eyes you haven’t seen in a while. Her guard is down.

“That they are,” You bring your hand up to Natasha’s lip to wipe your gloss from a corner of her mouth. Her eyes darken in lust and for a second you wonder if you’re going to survive the night with her in the same bed. You clear your throat and look over to the open door that connects your room. “Okay, you two, let’s get you fed. Where are we going to eat today?” You stand from the bed. You leave Natasha sitting there with her thoughts as you wrangle the kids.

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

Lunch with the family is fun. It’s amazing how easily you’re able to slip back into your roles with them. Ryan talks to you about his new leggo set while Emma pretends she’s a queen as she sips her lemonade. Natasha is content to watch you interact with them both. They’ve missed you it’s clear and you’ve missed them just as much. There’s a message on your phone that chimes and you tuck it away for later. Whoever it is can wait. You took your meetings earlier this morning with the sole purpose of spending time with your family. Nothing would ruin this for you.

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

The next destination on your list is the Sea Life Orlando Aquarium. You want to say you bought the tickets for the kids but you can feel Natasha vibrating with excitement as she grips your hand. Sometime during your entry into the aquarium, her hand slipped into yours and she never let go. The kids walked ahead of you as you entered the first hall. Seeing the kids happy with the sea life was amazing, seeing Natasha excited was an entirely different feeling. She didn’t have much of a childhood to go and do all of this. During the time you dated and throughout your marriage, there were times when you’d take her to experience things for the first time. The aquarium was her favorite. Despite how much she protested the idea of an animal she loved them. Especially sea animals.

The 360 aquarium proved to be the most fun as Natasha crouched down with the kids to point out the different types of fish. She smiled widely turning to see if you were paying attention as Ryan read from the information slate. It looks beautiful on her. Happiness. Her smile stops you in your tracks as you watch the way she interacts with them. The way she loves them. She guides them while reading about the fish whenever she gets a chance. You didn’t doubt that a lot of it she already knew. As you continued through the aquarium you almost expected Natasha to take your hand again and she did. It all felt right.

******************* It’s later that night that you feel the awkwardness of your situation. How even after nine years of marriage you’ve gone through a divorce that has changed the both of you. After helping Natasha put the children to bed you both go through your night routines separately. While Natasha is in the shower you check emails and answer back any that you find pressing. You roll your eyes when you find that Tony wants to put a real shark tank in one of his hotels. Totally not your problem right now. You send him a quick text before plugging your phone up for the night. You didn’t hear the shower shut off or Natasha exit the bathroom until she was sitting on the bed in a silk pajama set. It’s a plain shirt and shorts but it does manage to turn you on with the amount of skin you’re seeing. Natasha dries her hair with a towel and it’s then you notice her arms are more defined than you last remember them.

You move to sit next to her and she stops her towel drying to look at you. You take the towel into your hands to help her. She melts into you as she allows you to take on the task.

“Today was fun,” Her voice is raspy and filled with exhaustion. The activities of today are catching up to her.

“Yeah,” You say. When you’re done you toss the towel onto a nearby chair. You could deal with it later. You lower your arms to rest them at Natasha’s waist as you try to keep your composure. She smells like vanilla and coconuts. It’s only recently that she’s used a soap that has a scent. Being a spy she was always very diligent in not making herself noticeable in any way.

She stiffens in your arms just before she allows you to continue. With your left hand, you sweep her hair to her other shoulder to expose her neck. You press a tentative kiss against the flesh before trailing more down her shoulder. Natasha sighs as your touches become more firm. Your hands rub her sides and move down to the top of her thighs. You massage her skin as she leans further into you. It’s not inherently sexual but you can feel yourself becoming wetter just at the feel of Natasha. You dare to run your fingers up the leg of her shorts. Natasha allows you to. Her skin is smooth and soft under your fingers. At least until you feel the raised skin a little higher on her thigh. It’s at an awkward angle and it would be hidden behind her shorts but probably noticeable in a bikini. It’s higher up on her thigh. You feel around it feeling her once again stiffen as you try to assess the freshness of this wound.

“It was four months ago.” Natasha’s voice is devoid of any emotion. You furrow your brows. “I was in Madripoor with Steve and we took down a few guys interfering with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database. Stabbed me right in the leg before he got away.” How didn’t you know this? Where were the kids at the time? Did she take care of herself while tending to them? “It’s old news. Seriously.”

“I’m sorry, Natasha.” You distance yourself more for her than you. “I’m so sorry.” You say for really no reason at all. You’re not the one that stabbed her or sent her on the mission. Natasha could take care of herself.

“Me too.” She whispers before she climbs into the bed. Your moment of intimacy is over and you know the both of you are too tired to discuss the implications of that. You hate that this even needed to be discussed. You felt like a stranger when it came to Natasha. She’s been through so much these past few years and you have a feeling you’re only scratching the surface. You climb onto your side of the bed, reaching for the string of the lamp to turn it off, as you think about just how much you’ve missed.

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

The next day proves to be different for all of you. Work has you swamped with meetings that run over more than usual. There are only a few more days you have left here in Florida and you’d rather be spending them with your family. Disney World was supposed to be today. You promised them. Again. Yet you have to shoot a quick text to Natasha informing her to take them on her own as you don’t see yourself getting out of here any time soon. You don’t want to imagine how pissed she would be and how disappointed they would be.

You notice your phone go off throughout the day but you’re too busy to get into it. You know it’s Natasha keeping you updated. She’s probably sent you so many pictures and videos of the kids. Hopefully, you’ll be done with your last meeting in time for dinner. As a creative director, you can’t leave things to the other employees. Not like this. So you hunker down and keep pushing through in hopes of getting back to the hotel with your family.

It’s dark when you enter the hotel room. You cross the room to kick off your shoes before tiptoeing to Emma and Ryan’s bedroom. They’re fast asleep. Emma with her blanket tucked into her and Ryan with a new toy by his side. You kiss both of their heads before returning to your room.

You notice the balcony door is open and the cool breeze from there. Natasha is sitting in one of the chairs peering out at the pool below you. You’re on the third floor so not too high up but it’s still an impressive view. You decide to join her.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would take so long. We had to go over contracts, marketing, things with legal.” You tell her as you move to give her a kiss on her forehead. You sit down in the chair beside her. Natasha glances at you for a second before returning her gaze back to the view. There’s a silence that sits between the two of you before she speaks.

“Did I make a mistake coming here?” Natasha asks. She picks up her glass of red wine to sip from it.

“What, Nat, no.” You tell her.

“Hmm,” She swallows the wine. She sets down her cup and looks over to you. “It shouldn’t hurt. I should be used to it by now. You are too busy for us. We don’t fit into this new life you’ve made and no matter how much you’re trying it’s just not working.” Your heart drops as you realize you really did mess up.

“I’m-”

“You’re sorry.” Natasha finishes for you. “I know. I think we would have been fine if you’d bothered to answer any of the texts I sent you. If you bothered to reply at all. I’m not pushy and I’m not clingy. You know this. I couldn’t help but feel I was back in that same space of being the doting and loving housewife who waits and waits and begs for their spouse to love them.”

“You don’t have to beg with me, Natasha.” You assure her. “I didn’t think it would bother you for me to give this one day. I mean this is a work trip.”

“That you invited us to.” She reminds you.

Right.

“I changed all of my schedules. The rest of the week is open to be with you guys.” You inform her. Natasha tilts her head to see if you’re telling the truth. You are.

“Can I ask you what changed?” Natasha suddenly asks. “What shifted for you? You had been creative director when we started dating. The past few years you’ve been distant. You can’t just say you’re busy. We’ve both always been busy.”

“Nat,” You sigh. You really didn’t want to get into this. At her look you know it’s now or never. “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. “After we had Emma I began to feel lost. I felt like I lost who I was and the only way to salvage that was work. I felt weighed down by something and I couldn’t quite tell what it was. We had opposite schedules and it all was just so easier to be at work and know my role there.”

“You felt like we weighed you down?”

“Nat, no, that’s not what I’m saying.” You shake your head. “I felt the opposite. I felt happy. I felt loved but I was afraid. That eventually I’d become the imposter that I felt since I was a little girl. Eventually, it would all blow up in my face. But it’s not so black and white. We grew apart for a bit. We distanced ourselves in more ways than one.”

“Right,” Natasha says.

“Natasha, you have to understand that while I take the blame for everything I’ve done you’re not as innocent as you think.” You want to take it back before you fully said it. It could have been worded differently. The look in her eyes tells you that much. Too late.

“What did I do? Please tell me.” Natasha sits up a bit straighter.

“Nat, I’m not trying to be combative.” You glance behind you to make sure the children aren’t coming. “I meant that both of us have had times where we were less than nice to each other. I remember that day a few years ago you came home and started arguments for no real reason at all.”

“There was always a reason.” Natasha frowned.

“So tell me what!” You say a bit louder than necessary. “Everything I did to apologize and make better it never happened. As much as you’d like to think that you were being the perfect wife there are moments where I just couldn’t make you happy. We didn’t know how to work through our problems. That much is clear. The entire reason for the divorce was to give us both that breath of air.”

“As if you didn’t have it before,” Natasha mutters.

“Fuck, Nat,” You cry out. “This is exactly what happens. You beat around the bush. You don’t say what you mean until you’re angry and ready to throw it in my face. Do you want me to say I was busy? Yes, I’ll admit that. Do you want me to say how I’ve disappointed our kids? I’ll admit that too. Do you want me to say that I’m the sole reason our marriage went to shit? Not going to happen.”

“That’s not what I want.” Natasha looks down at her hands.

“Then tell me, I’m not Wanda, I don’t. I can’t read minds.” You wave your hand for her to look at you. “If I did it would save me a lot of trouble let me tell you. What is it that you want from me, Nat?”

“I wanted you to be there,” Natasha shouts over you. “I wanted you to be there. Okay.” She’s speaking past tense.

“What, Nat, be there for what?” Your voice is lower and more hushed as you realize how broken she sounds. Her tears are falling quicker this time and it startles you. “Nat?”

She looks down at her hands avoiding your gaze as she speaks. “Do you remember November 5th a few years ago? I kept nagging you about an appointment we had.” You shake your head in the negative. “Well, I do because I programmed it into both of our calendars.” At your look of confusion, she continues. “You had an impromptu work trip and I figured you just forgot about the day and that I could just reschedule. But I had this bright idea and I went to the doctor’s alone.” Natasha rolls her eyes at herself. “So I went. I wanted to know for myself. Whether I could.” Natasha isn’t speaking in complete sentences which still leaves you a bit confused and you’re catching on quickly. Your eyes widen. You’re putting two and two together. You remember it now. The trip had been a month-long and had taken up all of your energy. You remember her calling you and you being excited about finally making progress with work. It takes everything in you to recall the way she sounded. Over the phone, Natasha sounded different but you thought she was just missing you. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“No, no, no,” You shake your head. You don’t know if it’s possible but your brain is thinking before you can stop it. “Please, Natasha.” You move from your chair to sit on your knees in front of her. Had she been pregnant? Did she miscarry? How could you not have noticed? You want to puke with the thought of Natasha clutching her stomach in pain as she lost her baby. Your baby. Alone. She can see the wheels turning in your head.

“It never happened.” She reveals. “Even after the reversal of the tubal ligation that the Red Room gave me, it didn’t happen. The doctor said that with my line of work and how much trauma I’ve taken to my abdomen even with IVF, the chances of it happening were slim to none.” She lowers her eyes to her lap. This is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen Natasha and you know it’s taking a lot out of her to tell you this. “I just… I wanted to give you a baby.” Natasha blinks back the tears and your heart shatters instantly. “I wanted to feel them inside of me. I wanted my belly to grow too. I wanted that for myself and I know it’s stupid that I ever thought I could.” Natasha’s bottom lip trembles and you know she’s trying to keep herself from crying any further.

“You’re not stupid for wanting that, Tasha.” You reach your hand up to take hers in yours.

“Aren’t I? I mean, before I met you, I knew it could never happen and I was fine with it.” Natasha shakes her head. “I was fine with never having that. I resented you for giving me hope. I resented you for being what I couldn’t. That’s when the fighting continued. You didn’t notice and all I wanted for you was for you to hold me and tell me things were going to be okay.”

“And I just worked and worked and assumed that you weren’t happy because I wasn’t making you happy.” You summarize. Fuck.

“Please don’t blame yourself for what I just told you.” Natasha frowns. “ I didn’t lie. I was still happy with you. I still wanted you. I wanted that depression to go away and I wanted to forget I ever even tried. I wanted us to push forward.”

“Instead we became something entirely different.” You say. Natasha nods in agreement. “We were too many things at once without ever really being together at the time. We grew into something ugly and we never addressed it healthily. I became distant because I thought I couldn’t make you happy and then you thought the same. I just want to make it clear you’re not less of a woman than me because of this. I wanted you and still want you despite all of it. I love you, Natasha. I love you and I always have.”

“How do we fix this?” Natasha peers out over the balcony. “How do we fix us without falling into the same pattern?”

“We take it one day at a time.” You say. “We do the work. We stay honest. And I- I take off of work for a while.”

“What, y/n, you don’t have to do that.” Natasha looks at you again.

“No, I think I do,” You assure her. “At least for now. My family needs me. I want to be there for you.”

Natasha’s green eyes show just how much she’s hurt and heartbroken all at once.

“Okay,” She says finally. You stand to lead her back to the bed. She follows and waits for you to crawl under the covers. You raise the cover for her to climb in and you take her into your arms. She turns so that she’s the small spoon to your big one. She’s pressed so close to you and you never want to let her go. You can feel the sobs rack her body as she silently cries. You can feel your own tears drenching your pillow as you kiss the back of her head.

Marriage was hard. Marriage was tough. But so were you.

You and Natasha would work on things together. You would take it one day at a time just like you said.

---> next part

[lee-laurent]

Slim Pickins - Jack Hughes

Summary: Ana's got slim pickings

content: kissing, allusions to sex, fluff, minor angst, bittersweet ending

wc: 1.8k

inspired by sabrina carpenter's song slim pickins from her new album short n' sweet!

notes: i love sabrina carpenter!! and her new album EATS! i thought of writing a jack fic as soon as i heard the full song!! enjoy!!!

Guess I'll end this life alone I am not dramatic These are just the thoughts that pass right through me

Ana had given up on finding the "perfect guy." Every guy she dated just let her feelings unsatisfied and disappointed. Her friends were beyond excited to introduce her to Jack. They'd dragged her along to the bar, meeting their boyfriends there, and shoving her in the direction of Jack.

A smirk took up his face as soon as his eyes met hers. The blonde just narrowed her eyes, waiting for him to say something. Introduce himself and show her this "Hughes" charm she'd heard so much about from the girls.

"Hey, I'm Jack," he said, extending his hand with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

Ana took it, her grip firm, but she didn't bother with a smile. "Ana," she replied coolly, already bored.

Jack's smirk deepened, and she could see he was expecting her to be more impressed, maybe even flustered. But Ana was neither.

"Nice to meet you, Ana," he continued, leaning in slightly. "Your friends have been telling me a lot about you."

"Oh, I'm sure they have," Ana said, her tone flat. She glanced around, noticing how her friends were watching eagerly, clearly hoping for sparks. The only sparks Ana felt were the ones of irritation.

Jack raised an eyebrow at her lackluster response, clearly not used to being met with such indifference. "So... what do you do for fun?"

"Read," she replied simply, taking a sip of her drink. "I'm into fiction, but I like a good biography every now and then. You?"

"Uh, I play hockey. For the Devils."

"I know," she said, not bothering to add that she couldn't care less about hockey.

The conversation dragged on, Jack trying to charm her with his stories from the rink. Ana just nodded along, letting her mind wander. She had already resigned herself to the idea that the "perfect" guy didn't exist--not for her, anyway. And Jack, with his cocky grin and predictable lines, wasn't about to change that.

But as the night wore on and she saw the hopeful glances from her friends, Ana sighed inwardly. Maybe it was time to stop holding out for someone who ticked all her boxes. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to settle for someone who could at least hold a conversation--even if it wasn't what she wanted.

With that thought, she decided to give Jack a little more attention to see where things would go.

A boy who's jacked and kind Can't find his ass to save my life

Ana watched as Jack laughed at something one of the other girls' boyfriends had said, the sound rich and easy. He looked the part--tall, athletic, with that effortless charm that had most girls falling head over heels. Her friends had raved about how he was the total package: a boy who was both jacked and kind.

But as Ana sipped on her drink and observed him more closely, she noticed the flaws in her friends' description. Like the way his eyes glazed over whenever the conversation veered away from him and/or hockey, or how he seemed more interested in impressing his friends than actually getting to know her.

Sure, Jack was kind in a superficial way--polite enough, quick with a smile, and generous with compliments (when it benefitted him). It wasn't that she needed him to be perfect-- God knows she'd given up on that fantasy long ago--but she couldn't help the pang of disappointment that she felt. Jack was exactly what everyone had said: good-looking, successful, and charming. But beneath that, he didn't really have much that Ana looked for.

"So, do you follow much hockey?" Jack asked, walking back over from where he had been with his friends.

"Not really," she admitted, her tone more honest than before. "It's never really been my thing."

Jack nodded, looking a little thrown. "Oh. Well, what are you into then?"

Ana considered lying, giving him an answer she knew he'd like, but decided against it. "Honestly? I'm more into arts and stuff like that--books, museums, writing."

Jack's smile wavered, and Ana could tell he was struggling to find a way to connect with her. It wasn't really his fault, she knew she wasn't making it easy. But as she looked at him, trying so hard to find common ground, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her earlier thoughts.

It was time to lower her expectations.

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Jack gave her a lingering look, clearly hoping for a sign that she was interested. Ana smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks for tonight, Jack. It was... nice."

"Yeah, maybe we could do this again sometime?"

"Maybe."

Oh, it's slim pickings If I can't have the one I love I guess it's you that I'll be kissin' Just to get my fixings Since the good ones are deceased or taken I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'

As the weeks went by, Ana found herself spending more time with Jack. Not because she was falling for him, but because it was easier than being alone. The more they hung out, the more she realized that Jack was exactly who she thought he was--nice, handsome, but not who she'd been hoping for her whole life.

One night, after a dinner with their mutual friends, they found themselves alone, walking through the streets of Newark. Jack reached for her hand, and Ana let him take it, though the warmth she'd hoped to feel never came. Instead, she felt a dull ache of acceptance. This wasn't what she wanted, but it was better than nothing, right?

Jack stopped walking, turning to face her. There was something in his eyes. "Ana," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I really like you. I want this to work."

He was trying--really trying--and it wasn't fair to him that she couldn't muster the same enthusiasm. But life had a way of wearing down those high hopes she once held onto.

She forced a smile, leaning to press a quick kiss to his lips. "I like you too, Jack," she said, though the words felt hollow.

The continued walking, hand in hand, and Ana thought about what her perfect guy looked like. Maybe George Harrison or a young Bob Dylan. A guy with soul, who wrote her songs and poems. Wasn't afraid to talk about feelings, but was still just as attractive as Jack. But Jack was here, and he was nice, but he wasn't a young Jimmy Page.

That night, as she lay in bed next to Jack, who had fallen asleep almost immediately, Ana stared at the ceiling, her thoughts swirling. She knew she should be grateful--Jack was sweet, he cared about her--but the spark wasn't as strong as she dreamed.

Jesus, what's a girl to do? This boy doesn't even know The difference between "there," "their" and "they are"

Ana tried to focus on whatever her friends were yapping about, but Jack's text messages kept lighting up her phone. The boy didn't even know the difference between "there," "their," and "they are."

She reread his text over and over again. "I'll meet you over at they're place. Their should be plenty of parking outside if you don't wanna walk." Ana had almost chucked her phone across the room at the sight of it.

"You okay, Ana Banana?" one of the girls asked.

"Yeah, sorry, just thinking about shit."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Ana hesitated. What was she supposed to say? That she was annoyed because her boyfriend couldn't differentiate between basic homophones? That she was frustrated because she wanted more than he could offer? It wasn't fair--he wasn't really doing anything wrong.

"Nah, it's stupid. Just work stuff," she shrugged. "Continue your story."

Yet he's naked in my room Missin' all the things he's missin'

Jack sighed, pulling her body into his. She cringed at the feeling of his sweaty chest against her back. The room was quiet, just the sound of their breathing returning to normal. She turned to look at him, brushing some of the hair stuck to his forehead back. He looked at her with so much care in his eyes, massaging the skin of her thigh.

He was completely unaware of everything she thought was missing in him. So oblivious to the things that mattered to her. He didn't understand her passion for literature, her love for art, or the way she craved deep, meaningful conversations with her boyfriend.

But none of that mattered to Jack, he was just happy to have Ana by his side. And it made her feel so guilty. But if she didn't have Jack... what would she have? She'd be back to being lonely and bored with her life. At least Jack brought some excitement with him.

Since the good ones call their exes wasted And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin' Then I'll just be here in the kitchen Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'

The kitchen was dimly lit, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting shadows on the walls. Ana was putting away the last of the dishes from dinner, her mind preoccupied with everything she'd been thinking about over the entirety of their relationship. The rhythmic clicking of plates was a soothing backdrop to her contemplation.

Jack had been quieter than usual, his nerves evident as he fidgeted with his phone as she dried their wine glasses. Ana glanced over, noticing his unease but attributing it to work stress or something else she didn't understand.

After she finished cleaning, Jack took a deep breath and approached her, his face the most serious she'd ever seen. Ana's heart skipped a beat as she saw him pull out a small velvet box from his pocket.

"Ana," he began, "I know things haven't always been perfect, but I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Ana's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the ring. She had been contemplating the idea of settling for the last year, and now, faced with Jack's heartfelt proposal, she couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Since the good ones all call their exes wasted," she thought, reflecting on all her past disappointments and the unattainable ideal she once chased.

Then I'll be here in the kitchen, servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'. The idea echoed in her mind as she stood there, knowing that despite her doubts, Jack was offering her a commitment that she might not find elsewhere.

"Yes, Jack," Ana smiled. "I will marry you."

Jack's face lit up with joy as he slipped the ring onto her finger. Ana had come to terms with the idea that while Jack might not be the "perfect" partner she once dreamed of, he was a solid choice in a world of slim pickings. She had chosen to move forward with him, not because he was perfect, but because he was the best she could find.

Jack just might have to put up with some moanin' and bitchin'.

[yooglefics]

The casual type: 05 . The art of paying attention

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader Wordcount: 3,354 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ???. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. Fluff for cute friends. Summary:  ( Series ) • Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However, no one really expected things to end the way they did. ( Ep. 05 ) • Sometime the little details mean more than people think. More info under read more.

Includes ( this chapter ): The squad<3. Subin my love. And other new characters. A kind of out of nowhere jump in time ( just a few weeks ) because the writing just flowed like that, I don't know what to tell you. A mini-drama ( this is the spoiler I posted on ko-fi the other week ) and a bigger drama.  Author's note: so… I'm sorry this took so long to be updated Y_Y As you may know, inspiration hasn't been too good these days, but after some lovely comments and knowing people are interested in this story, I finally finished this chapter, so thank you! Also, let me know if you figured out what the drama was before the end, or if you had a theory about it, etc. Hopefully you like this one, and remember to leave a comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or what not, to help my motivation. Thank you for reading <3

“Kang Subin, queer and honorable member of the divorced parents club.” Is how your roommate introduces herself friday night, pointing to the latter as the reason she is only now, a month after classes started, arriving to campus and the city in general. 

She says her dad insisted on doing a year abroad as he did, assisting to his Alma Mater and hopefully fall in love with the city to move full time with him. And she did love it… a little too much. She admits the change of scenery was liberating, she could be a totally different Subin from the one in Seoul, and sadly that meant neglecting her notes and putting at risk her art history degree.

You're glad to note she will be joining you ( and some of your friends on occasion ) for classes, since she managed to keep her notes high enough to not lose her first semester. And then you spend the weekend getting to know each other, practically becoming friends overnight. Subin says it must be a you thing, and shaking your head no, you confess essentially begging the administration for a roommate because you're stuck with silly boys and all girls hate you because you aren't cool like them. She laughs, asks if that means the plan is making everyone hate her too and be stuck with you. And you freak out a little, but her laugh keeps flowing across the dormroom and you know she is joking; you know that things would be fine.

Monday arrives and between classes, you continue to give Subin small tours of the campus, mostly the art building and where all the vending machines are. 

“There's more than I thought, could you make me a map?” She jokingly asks.

“I'll ask Jungkook for the one we made last semester,” you know he has it because it was offered to Yoongi before.

“Hey, y/n!” calls Taehyung, appearing at the other end of the hall with Yoongi, and when he asks “you got some gum?”, you know they were just on a smoke break.

“Oh, hi, Tae. Nice to see you.” Sarcastic tone all over it, “are you having a nice morning?”

He rolls his eyes and Yoongi laughs at his side.

“Sorry, I'm actually not. And I'm running late,” still you give him a look and as a little kid he repends. “Hi, you guys look pretty today, as alway.” He adds before you can argue anything, and only then Subin chuckles, understanding this must be part of your dynamic. “Do you happen to have some gum for us, your lovely friends?”

“Yes, actually.” Taking one strap off, you move your backpack to your front, looking for the little package they keep stealing from. “Here,” you hand one wrapper to Tae, who starts running in the other direction immediately, screaming how much he loves you. And a “nice to meet you!” to Subin.

Everyone laughs, Yoongi turning back in your direction after Taehyung disappears down the hallway.

“You want one?” You ask and before being able to stop yourself, you add, “Is cherry, though” 

“Of course it is,” he smiles and you look away, pretending it's only to search for another one to offer Subin. Memories of friday’s night invading your psyche and shyness your whole body. 

Well, that's your own fault.

“Thank you,” she says, looking at the two of you while unwrapping it. “I'm Subin, by the way, the new roommate.” 

“Oh, she actually found one!”

“Just hoping she doesn't abandon me too,” you pout and Subin wraps one arm around yours.

“Never.”

“Yoongi,” He introduces, thumb pointing to himself and then behind, “And that was Taehyung, but I guess you'd meet the whole squad later.”

“Ah, yeah. I've been told she collects cute guys.”

“Did someone actually say that?” Yoongi asks when you're not even surprised.

“Yeah and when I asked about girls she looked relieved,” subin goes on, “I actually wanted to know, you know.”

Yoongi and you laugh, “someone doesn't like competition,” both say in unison.

“I told you, they lied.”

“Well, I can't really say that yet. I've to look first,” Subin insists, walking through the cafeteria's door. And it doesn't bother you because it comes from a place of curiosity and not horniness. No shame to anyone, your friends are hot, but you've known them for so long and know they have other great attributes that sometimes it feels superficial and it bothers you.

Besides, as a friend, you need to keep their egos just high enough to be healthy for everyone involved.

“Listen, kids,” calling for the table's attention, you stand in front of them, “this is Subin, my—”

“New roommate?” Asks Jungkook, remembering the text you sent, and you nod excitedly.

“That's Jungkook, he is in music and sports.”

“Which ones?”

“All. Some. We don't have time for that,” you joke, but only continue with the rest of his introduction after the youngest clarifies is soccer and box this year. “Oh, he also takes an art class with Taehyung and I, and now you, this semester. You know Tae from earlier, the one who keeps stealing my gum.”

“You're the one that tells me to not show up to class with cigarette breath!” He pushes back against accusations.

“I think she wants you to buy your own,” Jimin suggests.

“Or quit,” adds Hobi and the table laughs even more.

“That’s Hobi, the group's mom.” Tae offers after.

“Does that make Mai the dad?” Jungkook asks, with a serious expression on his face.

“I'm telling her so,” Yoongi says, already phone in hand and texting his best friend.

“You'll have to meet Mai later, she is great,” you continue, “but Tae is in arts. And Hobi and Jimin, are both dancers,” index finger pointing at their direction as you say each name, “and well, you already know that's Yoongi, he is in music too.”

“And the last new guy, right?” Subin remembers from your talk earlier after she met him for the first time, “I guess I took your title.”

“Are we enemies now?” He jokes, “I was about to offer you my chair, but now I don't know.”

Again, laughs all around and before anyone can think about the sitting arrangement too seriously, Jungkook is standing up, saying he needs to go back to the house before his next class.

“Oh, you are the biker from friday!” Subin exclaims as Jungkook’s helmet comes into view, everyone turning to look at her, “can't believe I forgot to ask you.”

And then five pairs of eyes are on you, all but Yoongi's, since he doesn't need an explanation. 

“...What?” Asks Tae, finally.

“Had to call her to my rescue because I lost my key and from the hallway's window I saw someone drop her off on a motorcycle,” she explains, “that's when the girl told me about you collecting cute guys.”

“But that wasn't me,” says Jungkook.

“Yeah, you weren't with us that night. We were all at the house, so who was it?” Ask Jimin, and the curiosity in his voice makes you nervous. You have never lied to them, and starting right now without preparation is terrifying.

However nothing compares to the feeling on your stomach when Yoongi answers, “it was me, actually.” And without a beat, your friends are looking at him now, “What?”

“You what now?” Mister interrogation Tae goes on, “Why were you together? What time was it? Was it late?”

“You were alone? Why?” Asks Hobi.

“We can't hang out now?” You ask back, wasn't he who set you up in the first place? And yes, it didn't turn out the way they planned it, but wasn't the whole premise to get to know Yoongi?

“Not what I meant,” he corrects, “Just… you didn't say anything.”

“Well, you guys canceled, what were we supposed to do? Not do anything just because you weren't with us?” Yoongi answers before you. 

“And we just hang out, you know, eat junk food and chat. Nothing to write home about.”

“Aww,” coos Jungkook, sliding his arm over your shoulders, “does that mean you missed us? You really love us, uh?” you pull back, sticking your tongue at him and pushing him towards the exit, telling him to hurry because if he is late to class you aren't covering for him again.

Thankfully, that's enough to get them off your back and Subin’s arrival provides better entertainment through the lunch hour, as your friends don't hold back on their questions to get to know her. And you're glad they seem to like her as much as you do.

“So… should I've not mentioned the bike thing?” worries Subin later, when everyone has left and is only her and Yoongi at the table.

“Don't worry about it.” He reassures her, offering a tangerine slice when she doesn't return the smile. “Seriously.” 

Is not her fault, he thinks. He can't blame the guys either for wondering and going into big brother mode as soon as they hear you're hanging out with someone, since the prevalence of that is not the best right now. And although he does feels bad about keeping things a secret from them, mostly Hoseok, who Yoongi himself give the “you better be careful with what you do with my best friend” talk, it consoles him a bit to know that the both of you are on the same page with what you have. 

Maybe if they knew it wouldn't be a big deal, he thinks. Better him than anyone else, right?

Putting away your phone and with the excuse of going to the bathroom before class, Subin and Tae follow their journey to the second floor without you and without suspecting anything. As you walk in front of one of the classrooms, a hand wraps around your forearm and pulls you in.

“What th—!” scream is interrupted when you recognize Yoongi. “You almost gave me a heart attack! I could've punched you.” And with adrenaline still running through your body, you actually push his shoulder with less force than you first intended.

“Ouch.” He rubs the place you hit, dramatically, as he explains, “Sorry, I panicked. There were people around and I didn't want to scream your name”

“Yeah, we should be careful after what happened at the cafeteria. Good save, by the way.”

“You own me,” he quickly returns.

“I do not,” you deny, crossing your arms, “You were the one insisting on going into the parking lot, I told you to leave me at the gate.”

“Well, forgive me for being a gentleman.”

You laugh, “and modest.”

Yoongi smiles, relaxing his body against the wall beside the door, “are you telling Subin about us?” he asks before you can question him about why he asked to meet.

Uncrossing your arms, you fiddle with your nails instead, scratching the acrylic paint off of them. “What is your opinion on that?”

“You can't answer a question with a question, miss.”

“Well… I don't know.” Is your final answer after a few seconds of silence. “She is cool and I really think we’re going to be friends and maybe I can gossip to her about you.”

He chuckles at that.

“And also she said sorry and asked if it was supposed to be a secret.”

“Really?” Yoongi sounds surprised, “She asked me that too earlier and I told her to not worry.”

“I feel bad about it because it seems like she is actually worried she messed up,” you share, “maybe I should just come clean. Only to her, at least. But of course not, if you don't want to.”

“No, it's okay. I think is good you have someone to talk to. And she seems nice.”

You nod in agreement, relieved you don't have to start hiding things from Subin as soon as you two met.

“Also,” Yoongi goes on, holding your hips and bringing you closer to him. You allow him to without much thinking. “It was nothing to write home about?”

“What?” 

“Friday night, you said that earlier.” 

“Did your ego get hurt?” You tease.

“No. But I didn't know you were a liar.” he throws back and you laugh. “I'm going to call you Pinocchio now.”

At that, you gasp, “stop giving me nicknames!”

And your attempt to pull away is just that, an attempt, because between laughs he holds you closer. “But is funny. And all of them are true.”

“They aren't.”

“Are so.”

“I don't like you.”

“That's not what I got from friday.”

“Yoongiii—.” you gasp again, his laugh louder this time.

Wanting a clarification stops him from dumping his phone back into the duffle bag and so, throwing the strap over his shoulder, he makes his way over to Chris and other teammates. 

“Are you ready to go?” His roommate asks, and Yoongi nods, “good, I'm just waiting for Ha-ri.” 

“Hey!” As they turn around, it is not difficult to recognize her as one of the cheerleaders since she is carrying her pom-poms and all, but is only as they continue talking that Yoongi realizes who she is, “sorry, I was saying goodbye to the girls and planning for next practice.” 

“Don't worry, babe.” 

“You must be Yoongi, hi,” she waves her free hand enthusiastically enough the pendant on her bracelet makes a jiggly sound, catching his attention “welcome to the university. And the team. Go, Bears!”

She seems nice, Yoongi thinks, “Go, bears!” first in the air, he chuckles in response before they all make their way to the parking lot and to Chris’s car.

The drive home is short and filled with questions about his last school and the reason he transferred, which Yoongi manages to give simple and vague answers that satisfy Ha-ri’s curiosity. It definitely helps that he has been questioned about it more than once the last few weeks, giving him more than one chance to practice before today.

The more weeks pass, the less people ask. And soon the mystery of his arrival is pushed to the side as people decide to talk about his accomplishments in the basketball games.

Every now and then someone recognizes him as an ex Tiger's player, and asks why he changed teams, but before anything can get to deep, a “well, now you are on the right team,” or something alike is thrown his way and he couldn't be more glad for the rivalry between the universities.

For what is worth, the change has proven to have been a good decision. Of course he is nostalgic for the past and he misses hanging out with Mai more often, but he has friends, basketball and music. He has even been planning to perform at school events with Jungkook as he did with Jay back then. 

It feels like he is starting to build a new life, and it wasn't as difficult as his brain told him it could be.

With chuseok around the corner the university starts to plan the events for the weekend and some professors feel generous enough to give extra credits for participation. Others just used it as an excuse to make the assignments related to it, that's his and Jungkook’s case.

Yours is the first one, because getting a good grade for hanging out with your friends sounds too good to pass out. That's why for the last few days you have been following them around taking pictures and notes, preparing your article about their performance Saturday night. 

“Are you done?” Yoongi asks from his spot at the end of the bed when you take the headphones off, the ones he made you wear so he wouldn't have to listen to himself on the interview recording.

“Yep. I only need Kook's side and I'm done,” end of the sentence elongates a bit, arms in the air as you stretch your back.

“How long for him to be here? I need him to go over something before he eats and gets a food coma.”

“I'm glad you're already prepared for that,” you giggle, “Because he is not even seeing my texts.”

“He is still busy?”

“Yeah, kissing someone for sure. Does he think I don't have things to do too?” 

“Like making out with someone too?” he jokes, putting his guitar down on the bed, deciding to take a break too.

“Why? Are you jealous?” you tease, trying not to laugh and is surprising when you're met with a serious expression as you spin around on his desk chair.

 “I thought the rule was to tell if there were other people.”

“I'm just kidding,”

“Wow, a comedian.” he rolls his eyes, and you know he is only pretending to be annoyed.

So, you push. “I'm funnier than you, don't get mad.”

“Cocky.” 

“What, you don't find confidence attractive?”

“Oh, I find a lot of things about you attractive.” 

Touche; you think as a smirk appears proudly on his face and makes you turn around, shy reaction at the security of this voice.

And he laughs. Of course.

“Shut up, Yoongi.”

“If you want to kiss me, just do it,” he only has to stretch a bit to pull on the chair, making you turn to him again and bringing you close.

And you do kiss him.

Not only to erase his stupid and attractive gummy smile, but also because you've missed it.

With projects and exams, with Yoongi not only being in a different major but also in his third year, hanging out only the two of you hasn't happened as much. 

You don't mind. You understand that is not a priority and there is something relaxing about it being an unspoken agreement, something that you truthly appreciate. 

But you would be lying if you said that you didn't miss Yoongi's lips against yours and the way his hand cups your cheek, still gentle as he tries to lead the kiss. 

Looking for closeness, your hand finds balance on his tight, making you contemplate ditching the comfiness of the desk chair for a sit on his lap.

“Is pizza night, baby!” breaks through the house before you can make another move, making you jump and pull away on instinct. Moving out of Yoongi's reach, even hitting the desk with the back of the chair as you stand up in record time.

“Careful,” he murmurs and you don't understand why he isn't freaking out. Even dears to chuckle.

“Min, come out!” another voice calls out.

“That's not Jungkook,” you say as a matter of fact, your brain still in shock.

“I'm starting to think he stood us up.” He stands up, looking at his phone still without texts from the younger guy, “Wanna meet my roommates? They have pizza, apparently.”

And your empty stomach makes the executive decision to hide your shame, and disappointment, in exchange for some food.

You're introduced to Jin first, who introduces Namjoon while taking the knife out of his hand with a “let hyung do it.”

“I swear he never lets me hold a knife for more than five seconds,” he says and you find it adorable, but Namjoon seems genuinely confused and maybe a bit hurt by it. 

You wonder what more there's to that. But before you can ask anything, a third roommate comes out of the kitchen, “Is for your own good and the wellbeing of everyone involved,” he says, making your whole body tense as the familiar voice rings through your ears.

“That's Chris.” Jin says, and you almost answer that you know, but for a second it is even hard to breathe.

Nevertheless, you don't need to say anything, because your silence is everything Yoongi needed to confirm that an introduction isn't necessary and in fact, you'd probably rather forget about him. 

Because is him.

The guy who hurt you.

A/N: I missed writing this! again thank you to anyone who has show interest one way or another, you're the reason this chapter was actually finished uwu♡. A/N 2: I'm working on the intros for the characters that aren't part of the squad, and sometimes I ask for your help with fc's suggestions or names, so... that's something to know if you're interested. Send a tip on ko-fi and get some rewards!!

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[anghraine]

My Rings of Power re-watch is continuing slowly now that I have more time (though not always more attention span for anything except games, thanks dissertation -> my mother nearly dying -> getting COVID). But one of the things I'm really enjoying about Galadriel in ROP is that it doesn't always frame her as the wisest and most insightful person in every interaction she has, and in fact it is clear that she's fucking up in very significant ways because of how hard and relentless she's become through her eons of suffering and her determination to exact a price for it. She is not well!

However, she is nevertheless right about some very important matters that most people don't want to see, and she's being condescended to by men of her people who are much younger, less experienced, and less correct than she is, and it's continually emphasized that she is the most individually powerful and competent Elf around regardless of any of this and that her fuck-ups, while disastrous, are cool and sexy of her also.

So many male action heroes are troubled men haunted by whatever their particular tragic pasts are, but these men are also super impressive and badass (often to a degree far beyond all probability) in a harsh, capable way founded on never giving up ever, so while they are permitted to make major errors, it's in a cool and sexy way that just makes them more appealing.

This isn't a condemnation of that; there's a place for that kind of action hero and I tend to enjoy them when it's not copaganda or something. But I like women, and I like women to benefit from a full package of tropes that are often watered down when female characters get any part of them at all, so I enjoy a female character in something that historically has been such a dudefest getting full unhinged brooding hypercompetent action hero treatment.

I even fully support the show prioritizing Galadriel getting the good wig. Her hair flowing dramatically in the wind is actually more important than someone like Celebrimbor getting dramatic impractical action hair (with love, he's an arts and crafts nerd hung up on his academia celebrity grandfather, nothing about this demands good hair).

But I also like it not only in general and not only for a female character, but also for Galadriel specifically. I was just re-reading the description of her in the Shibboleth of Fëanor, and (Teleporno aside) it tracks pretty well. The whole thing about young Galadriel's burning determination to pursue Fëanor to the ends of the earth and thwart him in whatever ways she could seems exactly the sort of thing ROP Galadriel would do, and while ROP is set much later, the Shibboleth suggests that Galadriel was still recognizably that person for long afterwards:

"Pride still moved her when, at the end of the Elder Days after the final overthrow of Morgoth, she refused the pardon of the Valar ... It was not until two long ages more had passed, when at last all that she had desired in her youth came to her hand, the Ring of Power and the dominion of Middle-earth of which she had dreamed, that her wisdom was full grown."

There's a lot of Galadriel material that Tolkien wrote and he continually overhauled, revised, discarded, and amended the Galadriel backstory to such an extent that her history is one of the most chaotic, tangled, and irreconcilable zones of Tolkien lore. I don't think anyone is obligated to prioritize Shibboleth Galadriel if they have a different preferred version. But I really love that version of Galadriel and it does make her seem like probably the best canon female character option of this era for Action Hero Disaster Area (In A Cool and Sexy Way).