#specifically marketing and pr

[cryptid-scribs]

“kabru would be a psyc major” “Kabru would work in retail”

YOU FOOLS

Kabru would be an advertising major!!! 90% of it is learning how to gaslight people he would thrive in there.

[chronal-anomaly]

in all my feelings again about publicity n overwatch. the sheer marketing aspect of it. covers of magazines, cartoons, interviews, random civilians grilling them. they're heroes, they're not politicians or bureaucrats. leaders in their fields and dressed in the overwatch blues.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

.

[jonathanbyersphd]

This might be unpopular or a bit of a reach, but does anyone else think it's kinda fucked up how much the Stranger Things marketing team uses Charlie & Natalia's relationship as promo before seasons drop even though the show has really sidelined their characters (especially Charlie's) /Jancy in the last 2 seasons?

[sbcdh]

In order to foster adoption of commercial analogue phone technology in the 1960s, telecommunications companies were engaged in a PR race to be the first into every American home. Bell Systems found a novel approach in publishing their internal schematics as a monthly technology newsletter.

The practice did well, attracting the attention of both home technology hobbyists and government officials alike. Bell Systems phone technology was marketed with a no-nonsense, wave-of-the-future attitude. Tomorrow was here, and it could be purchased at a convenient retail outlet.

An unintended side effect of the practice was the subculture now known as Phone Phreaking, some of histories first hackers.

The accessibility of blueprints and technical specifications, along with detailed descriptions of the analogue communication network allowed phreaks to do everything from eavesdrop on conversations, to evading charges for calls, to the creation of false identities.

Phreaking was, naturally, a rewarding pastime for those with sensitive hearing. Additionally, Phreaking something that could be done without the need of eyes. It is rarely stated in many historical accounts of Phreaking, but many phreaks were blind.

Phreaks have assumed a nigh-mythical place in niche cultural spaces, especially among hacking communities. Phreaks were the blueprint. The OG. Legendary exploits of phreaks were told by many an early computer scientist while hunched over pegboard in darkened university basements.

70s counterculture did little to downplay these legends. Experimental psychedelics we're added to the mix. Tales of blind anarchists speaking to machines was a popular trope in folk stories. The cocktail of psychoactives would always change depending on who told the story. Sometimes it was LSD, sometimes it was Psilocybin, sometimes a sinister or mysterious research chemical. Sometimes they didn't need drugs at all. Regardless, the archetype of the "bakelite oracle" has maintained a strange persistence.

Recently declassified court testimony has revealed these rumors to even have penetrated the echelons of the legal world. Perhaps emboldened by a red scare in full swing, prosecutors we're known to occasionally attribute the ability of wanted activists to vanish into thin air to Phreak collaboration. Preternatural elements are often implied, if rarely outright stated. It is unclear how seriously authorities at the time took such claims.

Study is ongoing.

[charlessainzz]

(loved loved ‘jealous jealous boy’ btw💅🏼) so can I request another lando one shot but this time like dad!lando showing his baby around the paddock (like feat Uncle Carlos and Oscar and whoever else) maybe it’s too specific so you don’t have to do it but like I can see it so perfectly😩

Twin Oranges

thanks for the love and the request! I hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for.

Lando was a new husband. He was a new dad. He was also a new dad to twins! A boy and a girl, what a perfect pair. When you told him you were pregnant he almost fainted. But when you both found out it was with twins, he actually did faint. Now fast forward almost a year later, you felt comfortable bringing the babies to the paddock after weeks of Lando asking. You decided to bring them to Silverstone. Close to home, and full of family and friends. 

Walking in you felt all eyes on you. Each one of you; mom, dad, and babies decked head to toe in McLaren gear. Baby boy Oliver Norris held by his mom, and baby girl Noelle Norris held by her dad. As you walked by each garage, drivers, mechanics and all poked their heads out to catch a glimpse at the young family. You finally made it into the safety of the McLaren hospitality ready to get the weekend started when the marketing team encircled you and Lando. You both look at each other and groan. 

McLaren’s marketing team wanted to do a video of the drivers showing the new McLaren twins around the paddock. After hearing the case from a newly graduated PR intern, you caved. You hand Oliver to Oscar teaching him how to hold the baby right. Lando laughing as he can tell you are very stressed handing off your babies. He gives you a kiss, and the camera starts rolling. 

First stop, Red Bull. Lando had no worries bringing the twins to this team. Max and Checo were dads through and through. “Max, come meet my kids!” Lando shouts into the garage. Max jogs up to the twins and gives them both a pinch on the cheek. “Here hold Oliver, my arm is falling asleep”, Oscar complains. “Oi! If my wife heard you complaining about the babies, she’d revoke your uncles status.” Lando scolds. Oscar instantly turns beat red, retaking the baby from Max. Max frowns. “Mate, maybe you need a mini Verstappen. You’re a natural father!” exclaims Checo. “In due time.. In due time”, Max smiles. The orange team says their goodbyes and heads to their next stop on the tour. 

The team visited Mercedes, Aston Martin, Haas, almost all the teams. All while collecting baby sized merch. 

Final stop, Ferrari. Lando and Oscar showed the twins their greatest competition. Up came Charles and Carlos. “Look Oliver and Noelle, this is your uncle Carlos and Charles!” Lando says as he’s holding the babies’ hands to get them to wave. “Which one am I the Godfather of?” Carlos asks half jokingly. Lando rolls his eyes as he lets the Ferrari drivers hold the kids. Charles and Carlos begin arguing over who was going to be the better uncle when stewards announce it’s almost time for FP1. “How’s y/n holding up? I’m sure she isn’t loving being away from her babies”, inquires Charles as he gives back one of the twins. “Oh yeah, she almost raged on the team when they suggested a little paddock tour” explained Oscar. Lando swats him on the side of the head. “Of course she was nervous, she hasn’t left their side in almost a year!” Lando shouts. “Come on guys, say your goodbyes to your fun uncles”. 

You anxiously awaited the return of your babies. Eyes darting around watching as they went from garage to garage with their dad and Uncle Oscar. Hearing the oohs and awws as each driver attempted to make the twins laugh. After what felt like 17 hours, they arrived. Jumping out of your seat you run to grab them from your husband. “Lando give them to me”, you grunt attempting to juggle them both. He laughs at your strong mother instincts. 

“Y/n, relax I brought them back in one piece!” he says as he helps you situate both in your arms. Each baby leaning into you, seeking your warmth. 

“They also return with tons of merch!” exclaimed Oscar. He begins showing you the baby onsies from Mercedes, Red Bull, and Ferrari. You eye them knowing Lando would never let Oliver or Noelle wear anything but McLaren. 

“Oooo is that a Leclerc onesie? Keep that one and toss the rest”, you state to Oscar. He laughs as he sees Lando make a sour face. 

“You always had a soft spot for him!” Lando shouts as you walk away into his driver’s room. “Chunk it Osc. Norris kids only wear papaya orange.”

[mostlysignssomeportents]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It's money.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So yeah, we should break up ad-tech:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/06/stealing-money-not-content/#content-free

[imaginesig]

A Bear and a Gorgeous Girl

SMAU

Ollie Bearman x singer!reader

with a new wave of fame, how does her hard rock aesthetic hold up when Y/n's fans find her boyfriends account? More specifically how she appears on that account.

ynln

Liked by user1, louis91, olliebearman, and 833 others

Ynln: You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

tagged: no one

olliebearman i wanna support the arts 🙋🏻‍���️

User1 I’ve been living for the on tour posts

User2 fr let’s all say thank you Louis!!

user3 that’s an odd caption—are you teasing song lyrics??

user4 Bear cameo

user7 the day we learn who bear is, is the day I die

user5 I want to know who her man is so bad

user6 Y/N LET ME IN

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olliebearman

liked by paularon_, kimi.antonelli, user2, and 732,927 others

ollliebearman: i spent my free time following my gf on her tour

tagged ynln

ynln forever grateful Bear ❤️

olliebearman 🧸❤️

kimi.antonelli simp

user1 it upsets me everytime im reminded they're both off the market

user2 ugh shes so pretty

user3 im a new fan, who is she?

user4 Y/n is a small artist who recently started touring with Louis Tomlinson (fron One Direction) and gained followers

user5 They're been together for about a year, but from what ive noticed, her newer fans havent connected that Ollie is her bf (understandable because she hasnt posted/tagged him in awhile)

user6 oh to have a supportive bf like ollie

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ynln

liked by louis91, ynln_hq, olliebearman, and 1,982 others

ynln: thank you Louis for an increable experience!! To everyone who learned my songs and cheered me on I love you ❤️❤️

tagged louis91, ynln_hq

olliebearman gorgeous girl

user4 you can say that again

louis91 you are a meance and it was an honor to be your first tour!

ynln 1D was also my first concert

louis91 so you've meantioned several hundred times

user1 best opener ever!!!

user2 im so glad ive discovered you

user3 og fans tap in!!

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ynln

liked by louis91, use54, user9, and 2,938 others

ynln: "Mom, I'm Goin' Out" dropping 7/24!! Enjoy my new single "Too Sweet" while you wait 💋💋

tagged ynln_hq

louis91 its gonna be fucking amazing

thesnuts you're smashing it

oliviarodrigo on repeat!!

user1 AHHHH BABE WAKE UP Y/N IS DROPPING A NEW ALBUM

user2 "its ten o clock before i say a word... you wake up for the sunrise" ok miss ma'am

user3 she found herself a good boy

user4 we've known Bear is the golden retriver to her black cat

user5 ok so she posted a soft launch-esc post with a lyrics from too sweet. The rest of that stanza is "You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain. Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait until that day"

user6 so?

user5 so its pr its about depsite the song suggesing otherwise

user7 noooo she's off the market

user8 i swear she laced the lines "i take my whiskey neat, my coffee black, and my bed at three" with crack

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olliebearman posted a story!

caption: gorgeous girl is releasing an EP stream it 7/24

ynln

liked by mmataband, user54, kimi.antonelli, and 2,930 others

ynln: "Mom I'm Goin' Out" has dropped!! Thank you to my family, fellow musicians, and my muse for the endless support! Now stop reading and learn the songs, we got gigs to attend

tagged: ynln_hq, olliebearman

user1 ok hard launch

mmataband we make a killer track

louis91 so proud!

kimi.antonelli adding to the Prema playlist now

ynln if Ollie hasnt already beaten you to it

kimi.antonelli yk he has 😔

user2 Y/n: tags her bf in her EP release, me: stalks him while streaming said EP

user3 UGH MAROON IS TOO GOOD

user4 there is no reason why "The Chain" is so hot

user5 WE FINALLY FOUND HIM

user6 BEAR IS OLLIE -BEAR-MAN

user7 are we all stupid orrr

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olliebearman

liked by ynln, paularon_, user32, and 721, 291 others

olliebearman: "Mom I'm Goin' Out" to celebrate love's new EP

tagged ynln

ynln you're so cheesy

olliebearman but you love me

ynln forever and always

kimi.antonelli please tell me she didn't let you actually touch that soundboard

olliebearman 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

user1 I cannot wait to blast Y/n while waiting for race to start

user2 this is the same Y/n???

user3 who are you girl

user4 I would have never pinned her to love pastel flowers and a pink heart cake

user5 I've stalked this mans whole account and we need to have a meeting

user6 the new Y/n fans have found Ollie ive seen...

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ynln

liked by user3, olliebearman, ynln_hq, and 293,293 others

ynln: HELLO?? YOU GUYS HAVE BLOWN THIS EP UP!! I'm so so lucky to say that my childhood dream has become a reality, thank you for everyone who have supported me and helped me on my musical journey!!

tagged: ynln_hq

louis91 stoked to see you're finally getting the attention you deserve

mmataband 🤘🏻🎸❤️🖤

user1 so so deserved!!!

user2 its been on repeat since it dropped

user3 ugh I swear this album was laced bc I CANNOT STOP LISTENING

user4 I can't wait for the live shows to start

user5 same!! I need to hear these songs live

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olliebearman

liked by kimi.antolli, paularon_, user54, and 273,393 others

olliebearman: I'm so in awe of your accomplishments gorgeous girl ❤️ Congrats on 1 million streams

tagged ynln

ynln couldnt have done it without my muse ❤️ love you bear

olliebearman love you too❤️

user1 theyre so cute but everytime he posts her its a jumpscare

user3 right its so far off from her aesthetic

user2 too cute!!

user4 God its me again

user5 when is it my turn

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ynln

liked by olliebearman, user43, paularon_, and 232,938 others

ynln: Bear has officially ruined my aesthetic but its ok because he's cute

tagged: olliebearman

user1 her hard rock aesthetic might be over but this post is still so put together within itself

olliebearman 😶

kimi.antonelli no its not ok, I dont wanna see you being all lovey dovey on my instragram

ynln something tells me you'll survive

ynln_hq you're still a kick ass rockstar in our eyes 🤩

user1 now that the shock is over im in love with them

user2 the second pic is literally so boyfriend coded

user3 lets all thank Y/n for her service

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olliebearman

liked by kimi.antonelli, user4, ynln, and 838,393 others

olliebearman: you heard the girl im cute!!

tagged: ynln

ynln this post is so Pinterest, ive trained you well 🥹

olliebearman best teacher ever!!

user1 ok aesthetic

user2 that second pic is gonna own pintrest

user3 looks like im sleeping in traffic tonight

user4 the matching captions make me sick I NEED IT

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ynln

liked by ynln_hq, olliebearman, louis91, and 233,939 others

ynln: guys its time I come clean... im a giant softie who likes my coffee in the form of an ice latte

tagged: olliebearman

olliebearman the lies!!! The deception!! cancel y/n 2024

ynln shut up 🙄

olliebearman 🎸❤️

ynln 🧸❤️

user1 not them having special emoji combos 😭

user2 the coffee drawing is so cute what

user3 well this was not what I was expecting from Y/n but im into it

user4 she's just a girl, no ones above an iced latte

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[willowsnook]

Right Place, Right Time pt. 4 (LN)

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5

@seasonswinter @drdbnkl2008 @jaematthews15

angst at the end i apologize 🥵

Y/N: so what's the dress code for tonight?

Lily: I would say cocktail attire but not super fancy, they usually pick somewhere nice?

Y/n: how many people are going to be there? i'm stressed

Lily: honestly a lot lol, it's like everyone with McLaren plus friends. but on the plus side it means we fly under the radar.

Y/n: yeah but we will be with the most important people

Lily: true

You sighed throwing your phone across your bed. You still had a couple of hours before Lando was coming to pick you up but you felt a strong urge to start getting ready now.

You headed into your bathroom to take an everything shower singing along to your karaoke playlist. You threw your hair up into a towel and started the painful process of picking something out to wear.

Y/n: what are you wearing? Lando: nothing, want to see?

y/n: 🙄 my eyes would bleed

Lando: you wound me. but i'm just wearing a button down and slacks. nothing crazy

After looking through a couple of options, you settled for a fitted green knitted dress you hadn't yet worn.

Twirling in the mirror, you liked the way it hit your curves. You spent the next hour curling your hair and applying a sort of natural glam look. The next thing you knew Lando was texting you that he was here. You grabbed your purse and touched up your hair one last time before heading down to your apartment lobby.

You reached the lobby and saw Lando standing by the front doors, hands in his pockets looking around. His attention fell on you as you walked closer and you smirked as he shamelessly checked you out. You did the same to him, appreciating the way his light blue botton down was tight on his biceps and across his chest.

"Hi," you said stopping in front of him. "Hi," he replied softly. He moved closer to you, kissing your cheek lightly while resting his hands on your waist. "You look gorgeous."

You smiled, pulling back but intertwining your fingers through his.

"Ready?" You asked and he nodded, pulling you out the door and towards his car. He opened the door for you before sliding in the drivers seat. The car ride was silent and half way through you felt Lando's hand rest gently on your thigh, his thumb caressing your skin gently. The ride was short and you soon were pulling up to the restaurant, Lando tossing the keys to the valet. He rested his hand on your lower back as he guided you out to the patio that was rented for the team.

You spotted Lily and Oscar as you came in and made your way over to them, ditching Lando to talk with some other people who had stopped him. Lily scooted over on the bench and you sunk down next to her.

"You look great," she said and you smiled.

"You do too," you replied. You flagged down the waiter to order a glass of wine and watched as Lando mingled.

"You're staring," Lily teased and you blushed.

"just observing," you hummed.

"So y/n, what is it that you do for Monster again?" Oscar asked.

"I sit on the marketing team but specifically I work with partners," you said.

"So you work with McLaren?" He asked and you shook your head.

"We all have different territories that we are in charge of," you explained. I have the west coast so all I work with anyone partnered with Monster there. It's a lot of planning partner events and campaigns."

He asked you a little more about your job and you were happy to indulge him. You loved what you did, getting to work for a cool brand had been something you had always wanted to do. Someone had overheard you talking to Oscar and introduced themselves as one of the PR managers so you soon found yourself mingling with the McLaren marketing team.

"You know, we've been trying to get someone from Monster at more races," one of the marketing managers told you.

"Yeah, it's hard because our team is based here and travel is expensive," you said. "I know the girls who have most of Europe as their territory but they don't get to travel much."

"You guys need to just have someone living overseas," she replied and you nodded.

"Probably," you agreed. "Just need the budget."

A little later you were back next to Lily, the two of you hiding in the corner done talking with people.

"Can we sneak out of here," you begged and Lily sighed.

"Oscar will kill me," she said and you gave her a look. "Okay let's go."

You briefly scanned the patio, seeing Oscar and Lando caught up in a conversation and made your way back through the front and onto the street.

"Where should we go?" Lily asked and you started pulling her along the sidewalk.

"There's actually a great rooftop bar on the hotel you guys are staying at," you said knowing the hotel was only a couple of blocks away. Lily used her key to get you in and you made your way up to the bar. It wasn't too crowded and you saw some familiar faces.

"What's up McLaren ladies?" Daniel yelled causing the people with him to turn and look at you. You greeted him and Max before ordering a drink from the bar.

"I don't think we've met yet, Lando is hiding you," a strong Spanish accent said from next to you. "I'm Carlos."

"Y/n," you introduced. You could see why Lando wouldn't introduce the two of you. This man was very easy on the eyes. "Want to make Lando mad?" His eyes lit up mischievously.

"Always," he said and you held up your phone to take a selfie. He wrapped his arm around you and you were pleased with how intimate the picture turned out and put it on your Instagram story.

You chatted with Carlos for about ten minutes before you heard Daniel loudly greeting someone else. You turned to see that Lando and Oscar had just gotten here. Oscar looked amused while Lando did not look happy. His eyes met yours and you smirked turning back to Carlos.

Within 30 seconds you felt two arms encircle your waist and were pulled back against a hard chest.

"I see you've met Carlos," Lando said tightly which made Carlos laugh out loud.

"Yeah I was just telling y/n how pretty she is and that we should run off into the sunset together," Carlos deadpanned. You felt Lando's arms tighten around you and you sighed shifting to turn to him, bringing your arms around his neck.

"You are being so dramatic," you said and he pouted.

"You left me," he whined and you shrugged.

"We were bored, plus I knew you'd find us," you told him. "Can we sit?"

You found a couch by a firepit and sat down, leaning down to take your shoes off. Lando sat next to you, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind you. You were soon joined by Lily, Oscar, and Max.

You all talked for a while and by the end of the night you had your head rested on Lando's shoulder and legs thrown over his.

"Are you tired?" He mumbled in your ear and you nodded sleepily. "Why don't you just stay with me tonight?"

"Lando..." you said and he moved your chin to look up at him.

"Just to sleep, nothing else," he said.

"No funny business," you said and he smiled triumphantly. You bid goodnight to everyone before following him out of the bar.

"Are you coming to the track tomorrow for quali?" He asked while you were waiting in the elevator and you shook your head.

"No, I have a ton of things to do and errands to run," you replied and his face fell. "I'll be there Sunday though, I promise."

He nodded and the rest of the ride was silent. He grabbed your hand to pull you off on his floor and you made your way to his room.

"Need something to wear?" He asked and you nodded. He pulled out one of his long sleeve McLaren shirts for you and you headed into the bathroom to change.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a while wondering what the fuck you were doing. You had told yourself to not get swept up in this fake reality but here you were. When you stepped back in the room you saw Lando laying on the bed, head propped up watching tv. He patted the spot next to him and you slid into the bed, resting your head on his chest. His arm tightened around you and it was a while before you spoke.

"I shouldn't be here," you said and he looked down at you.

"Why's that?" He asked and you looked away.

"You're going to leave after Sunday," you said and he sighed.

"That's two days away," he said ending the conversation. You sighed into his chest and started to feel your eyes droop. The last thing you remember was him kissing your head and mumbling "sweet dreams baby."

-------------------------

Two days later you were still reeling from waking up next to Lando on Saturday morning. The two of you didn't really say much and he drove you back to your apartment, squeezing your thigh as a goodbye before you got out of the car.

Today you were headed back to the track for the race wearing a casual short black dress paired with a McLaren hat. You were happy to see Lily standing in the garage waiting for you.

"Hi friend," you greeted pulling her into a hug which she returned.

'Hi, ready for the race?" She asked and you nodded. You had arrived a little later so didn't get to see Lando before the race which was what you were hoping for. The two of you walked over to sit down.

"I'm so sad you're leaving tomorrow," you told Lily and she squeezed your hand.

"Me too, but we must facetime weekly and you're coming to Vegas, no excuses," she said.

The race went by quickly with Lando ending in second and you celebrated with the team while he was on podium. He had texted you to wait up so you lingered in the garage chatting with some of the marketing girlies. You said goodbye to them as you saw Lando coming out of his driver's room and jogged over throwing your arms over him.

"You did great," you whispered in his ear and his arms tightened around you.

"Well I had my good luck charm with me," he said and you laughed. "Can we get dinner before heading out tonight?"

"I didn't know I was going out tonight," you said and he gave you a look. "Yeah, I just need to change first, is that what you're wearing?" He had changed into a plain white tshirt and black jeans.

"Yeah," he said giving you a twirl. "Is it up to your standards?"

You laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him out towards where you parked. You drove back to your apartment, letting Lando hang on the couch while you got ready. Lando had said you guys were going to a more casual bar after so you decided on one of your signature going out outfits.

"Where do you want to eat?" You asked and Lando looked up from his phone.

"I'm up for anything," he said and you laughed.

"Anything besides x, y, and z," you joked and he rolled his eyes getting off the couch and coming towards you.

"As long as you're on the menu i'm down," he said cheekily and you gagged.

"I just threw up in my mouth," you complained. "Let's go Romeo."

He laughed following you out of the apartment and back downstairs. You called an Uber and the two of you ended up at a little diner you knew of that wasn't too busy. You ordered a burger and fries, Lando opting for chicken tenders.

"So which race will you be at next?" He asked casually.

"Probably Vegas," you replied, taking a sip of your coke. He frowned.

"Not Mexico?" He asked and you shook your head.

"I have a job ya know," you said and he looked at you not saying anything. "What?"

"I just figured that we've been spending enough time together that you'd maybe want to start coming to more," he said and you looked at him with wide eyes.

"I mean yes, I love spending time with you but I have a life here," you said. "We've only known each other for a couple of months and been together a handful of times."

Lando didn't say anything, looking down and picking at his food and you sighed.

"It would be a lot different if you lived here or I lived over there, but that's not the reality of the situation," you said sadly.

The rest of the meal was quiet, the tension between the two of you high. Lando paid for your food and you headed towards the bar, texting Lily that you needed to talk asap.

It looked like F1 had taken over the bar as you got there and Lando peeled off from you immediately. You found Lily ordering a drink and you joined her.

"What's up?" She said taking in your dejected appearance.

"We talked," you sighed. "And it didn't go well." She frowned.

"What did he say?" She asked and you turned back to the bar fiddling with your drink.

"It was more the vibe I got, like he was under this assumption that I was going to follow him around the world just because we've had one good week together," you said annoyed.

"I told him not to do this," Lily sighed and rubbed your arm sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you reassured her. "I shouldn't have let it get this far, I just wanted to be happy."

"Let's get drunk then and pretend your dinner never happened," she suggested and you grinned.

"I'll drink to that," you said lifting your cup to hers.

You ended up a little drunk later on but not trashed, which is exactly the sweet spot you wanted to be in. Lando was also a little drunk, you could tell because he had decided to stop ignoring you.

Currently the two of you were engaged in deep conversation, him listening to you ramble on about how your favorite football team was doing.

"It's just like what is the offense doing ya know?" You went on. "No blocking, a five star qb that doesn't have his shit together, and horrible play calling."

You started to go on again but felt someone bump into you, pushing you into Lando whose arms shot out to catch you. You face was inches apart from his and your breath hitched as you watched him flick his eyes down to your lips. You start to warn him but he cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. You kiss him back hungrily before you realized what's happening and push him off and bolt out of the bar.

"Y/n," he calls out following you outside and you can already feel tears forming in your eyes. "Y/n wait."

He grabs your arm pulling you around to face him.

"I can't fucking do this Lando," you yelled and he pursed his lips. "You know I can't do this."

Now you were pissed and you could tell he was starting to get angry.

"I just don't understand," he said. "I know you feel this between us."

"Of course I fucking do," you exclaimed. "But my life is here! I live here! My job is here! My friends are here! I'm not one of your influencer flings who can just jet off and follow you around the world while you live your dream. That's not mine."

He stalked towards you, getting closer before you reached your hand out to stop him.

"You think this is just a fling for me," he bit out. "I want you next to me for more than a couple of races." You scoffed throwing your hands up.

"You don't even know me," you yelled, tears starting to leak from your eyes and hurt flashed across his face before his expression hardened.

"You're right, I guess I don't." He said. "I can get any girl in the world to follow me around so I don't need someone like you."

You felt like your heart had been stabbed and before you could stop yourself your hand flew across his face making contact with his cheek. You felt two arms pull you back and you turned sobbing into Max's chest.

"Hey hey, it's okay, let's go," he whispered rubbing your back. They must have ventured outside seeing you guys argue because when you turned to look back you saw Lily screaming at Lando and Oscar trying to hold her back. This made you cry worse and you were hiccuping as Max lead you towards his car. He settled you into the passenger seat and you rested your head against the window trying to calm down.

"I know you won't believe it now, but he didn't mean it," Max said and you didn't reply. "He's just scared of what he's feeling and doesn't want to lose you.

"Well it might be too late for that," you whispered and Max gave you a sad smile. He walked you up to your apartment, hugging you goodbye and making you promise that you'd still come to Vegas.

You texted Lily that you loved her and were sorry you didn't get to say goodbye but were taking a break from social media and your phone for a little bit so to not worry. She replied that she loved you too and to text if you needed anything.

At least one good thing had come out of that first race.

[the-offside-rule]

Fernando Alonso (Aston Martin) - I Don't Wanna Live Forever

Requested: no

Swift Series

Warnings: age gap, cursing, forbidden love, cliffhanger

*he's fine asf in this gif*

Fernando sighed contently as he walked through the paddock, the all too familiar buzz of a new season on the horizon. The new season was about to begin, and with it came new challenges, new cars, and, as he had just been informed, a new assistant. His previous assistant had moved on, and Fernando was curious about the person who would now be helping him navigate the whirlwind of his career. He walked into the new hospitality, looking around at the slick interior design of the building. He looked over to see his PR manager stood up, waving towards him. He smiled, walking over towards him. "Alright Fernando, how's it going?" She asked as he hugged her. "Yeah, pretty good. Yourself?" She smiled. "I'm doing well. I actually wanted to introduce you to someone-" She paused, turning to the young woman stood behind her. "Fernando, meet Y/n. She'll be your new assistant."

Y/n extended a hand with a confident smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Alonso. I'm excited to work with you." Fernando shook her hand, noting her firm grip and steady gaze. "Please, call me Fernando. And welcome to the team." Y/n nodded, mentally noting the informal tone. "Thank you, Fernando. I've already familiarized myself with your schedule and preferences. If there's anything specific you need or any adjustments, just let me know." Fernando was impressed. "I appreciate that. It's a demanding job, but I'm sure you'll handle it well."

As the days went by, Y/n quickly adapted to the fast-paced environment of Formula 1. She managed Fernando's schedule with precision, coordinated media engagements seamlessly, and ensured he had everything he needed before and after races. Her efficiency and calm demeanor under pressure did not go unnoticed by Fernando. One afternoon, during a break between practice sessions, Fernando found Y/n in the team lounge, engrossed in her laptop. "How are you finding everything so far?" He asked, sitting down across from her. Y/n looked up, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "It's intense, but I love it. The energy, the speed, the team, it's all very exciting." Fernando smiled. "That's good to hear. It's important to have someone who enjoys the chaos as much as the rest of us."

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While Fernando was no stranger to the hectic life of a racing driver, he found a peculiar comfort in the presence of his assistant, Y/n. She was efficient, calm under pressure, and always seemed to know exactly what he needed. Over time, Fernando had developed feelings for Y/n, but he kept them hidden, fearing it would complicate their professional relationship. Y/n, on the other hand, had admired Fernando since the day they started working together. His dedication, passion, and charisma made it hard not to fall for him. But, like Fernando, Y/n kept these feelings concealed, believing it was best to maintain their professional demeanor.

This particular day had been nothing short of exhausting with back-to-back media obligations. Interviews, photoshoots, and press conferences filled the schedule, leaving little time to breathe. Fernando signed the final cap and packed it off to the side. He looked out the window, the sun had set, and the team was packing up. "Finally." He sighed. "Y/n!" Fernando called out. Y/n peered in the door. "Done?" He nodded. "Perfect. You can leave them there, and I'll get them to marketing first thing tomorrow." She said walking towards him. His eyes wandered down her body. He stopped himself, feeling bad. "Stay back for a bit, would you? I think we both could use a drink."

"I can't. You have media day tomorrow, and I think a good nights sleep would do you best." Fernando sat back in the chair. "Come on. Just one." Surprised but curious, Y/n agreed. "Sure, Fernando. A drink sounds good." He smirked. "That didn't take too much convincing."

Fernando stood up and headed downstairs, grabbing a bottle of red wine and twk glasses before making his way back up to the office. "I hope you like wine." He chuckled. She sighed. "Not really, but it's a drink from the Fernando Alonso, so who can complain?" He closed the blinds, trying to block out the world, away from the prying eyes of fans and journalists. Fernando poured the glass and handed it to her, before taking his own. They sipped at their drinks, and for a while, they sat in comfortable silence, savouring the moment of peace. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" Y/n nodded. "Shoot."

"How did you end up in the world of Formula 1?" Fernando asked, genuinely interested. Y/n smiled, taking a sip of the drink. "It was a bit of a twist of fate, really. I always loved motorsports, and when the opportunity came up to work with a team, I took it. And here I am. I didn't think I'd be working for you, though." His brows furrowed. "How come?" She shrugged. "I always loved watching you growing up, so it just seems a bit surreal, I guess." He groaned. "What?" She chuckled. "You're making me sound old." He replied. "You're not that old."

"I am 43 years old. That's old." She eyed up his lips subtly, her finger tracing the rim of her glass. "I don't think so, but okay." Fernando nodded, his eyes never leaving Y/n's. "You're 25. You have no say in this."

As the night went on, the conversation flowed easily. They talked about their childhoods, their passions, and their dreams. The more they shared, the more they realized how much they had in common. "Sometimes, I wonder what life would be like if I hadn't decided to race." Fernando admitted, a rare moment of vulnerability. Y/n reached out, placing a hand on his. "I think you'd still be the same incredible person, just a little less stressed." Fernando's heart raced at the touch. "Yes, but I wouldn't have met all the people I have. We wouldn't have met." Y/n's breath caught. "You'd live without me." Fernando took a deep breath, his eyes locking with Y/n's. "I don't think I could." Y/n's heart swelled. "Fernando -" Fernando leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers. Their eyes scanned each other, both wondering if they should move closer or simply walk away and pretend it hadn't happened.

Y/n's eyes fluttered shut as Fernando's lips met theirs in a tender kiss. The world around them faded, leaving just the two of them in that moment. She set her glass to the side, her hand flying up to his face, pulling him in closer. He felt euphoric. She was everything he could have asked for and more. He deepened the kiss, pushing her back until she was laying on the couch. Her hands roamed under his Aston Martin shirt, trailing up his tone back. He loved it,every touch, every sound she made below him, he loved it all. That was, until Y/n came to her senses and pulled away. "Wait, stop!"

Fernando's heart sank as she pulled away. "We can't. I can't. It could ruin your career, and it could cost me my job. I've worked too hard for this job for it to be thrown away over a stupid kiss." His brows furrowed. "A stupid kiss?? Is that what you would call this?" She stood up, straightening her skirt out. "I say it as it is. It was a mistake, and it will remain that way. It has to." Fernando shook his head, his eyes pleading. "Y/n, listen. I like you, I like you a lot. I don't care about the risks. I care about you." Y/n looked at him, unsure. Unsure if he was telling the truth or if he was drunk. "I care about you too, but we have to be realistic. This-" She pointed between them both. "This could destroy everything we've worked for." Fernando took her hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. "I'm willing to do anything for you, Y/n. You're worth everything to me." She sighed, closing the door behind her and leaving the spaniard there, drunk, alone and pondering.

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Y/n lay in bed, the soft glow of the city lights seeping through the curtains and casting delicate patterns on the walls. Despite the late hour, sleep eluded her. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of the kiss she shared with Fernando earlier that evening. She could still feel the warmth of his lips, the gentle yet passionate way he had held her. She sighed and turned onto her side, pulling the blankets tighter around her. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t shake the image of his face, the intensity in his eyes as they parted. Tossing and turning, she fought against the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

Finally, unable to bear the restlessness any longer, Y/n sat up, her heart racing with indecision. Should she go to him? Confront these feelings head-on? She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket. But the pull was too strong, the need for clarity too overwhelming. Taking a deep breath, she threw the covers aside and slipped out of bed. She threw on her cardiganHer footsteps were light, almost silent, as she reached her door. Her heart pounded with every step, the anticipation building.

Reaching for her door, she paused, her hand hovering just inches from the wood. She closed her eyes, gathering her courage, then reached for the handle and opened it, her eyes widened in surprise. There stood Fernando. He was dressed as he was earlier, as if he had been up and about, unable to sleep just like her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions. “Y/n…” he breathed, taking a step closer. “I-"

It didnt take long for her to wrap her arms around his necl and lock her lips with his again. She had needed this. He pulled away first, looking deep into her eyes. "I need to tell you-"

"Tell me in the morning. I need you now."

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter six a series of misunderstanding and lack of communication finally leads Hiori and Miss Journalist to talk, once and for all. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader, hurt/comfort, implied !NagiReo, suggestive nsfw masterlist

For weeks, there’s been nothing but radio silence. 

You lost count of how many times you’ve typed a reply to Hiori, only to delete it afterward. Again and again. 

Each time, the words feel wrong. Too stiff, too needy, too defensive. No matter how you framed it, everything sounded wrong. What could you even say that wouldn’t make everything worse?

Plus, he didn’t follow up either. 

Every day, you’d sneak a peek into your Winstagram chats, only to see the same conversation where you left off. He’d view your stories, sure. A proof that he’s still there, just… watching. But other than that, nothing. 

On weekends, you’d log onto Steam, hoping to catch him there while you convince yourself to unwind. Every time you do, a few minutes after you log in, his name would pop up on your notifications.

hiyooooooo is now online

Your cursor hovered over his profile picture more times than you cared to admit. But fear—no, humiliation—held you back. You’d tell yourself it was fear of rejection, of misstepping. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t just that. Maybe it was guilt too.

So you’ll sit straighter in your chair, hands gripping tight on your mouse, waiting. Waiting for a game invite, a little message, anything.

But nothing ever came.

Gaming was supposed to be your escape, something you both shared but it seems like it can’t break the cold shoulder treatment you’re getting from him. 

Maybe I just need to see him. Or talk to him in person, you thought, clinging to the idea as though it might fix everything. Maybe it will. But still, easier said than done. 

Desperation leads you to ask your editor for a beat change. Anything but Manshine City. The name alone made your stomach churn. You just need some distance from it until you clear the air between you and Hiori. Especially since you two haven’t spoken since the Nagi incident. 

But Mercury in retrograde or whatever cruel force dictated your life these days, have other plans. Because your editor doesn’t budge. And to make matters worse, she hands you your next assignment.

“You’re covering another Manshine City game,” she said, her tone apologetic as it can be.

You want to protest. But before you can even spit out your rehearsed excuses, she cuts you off.

“They saw the numbers your Bastard München pieces pulled in,” she explained apologetically. “It’s PR gold for them.”

Her words hit you like a sucker punch. All the carefully prepared justifications in your head evaporated, leaving you standing there, mute and cornered.

Turns out, your editor and the Manshine City marketing manager are college buddies. She admits that the marketing manager cashed in a favor to get you to cover the team after seeing how you somehow brought good impressions to Bastard München. 

As much as you want to get mad at your editor, you can’t. This was the woman who took a chance on you. The same woman who took you under her wing, believed in you when no one else would. How could you even say no to her?

You shake your head. It wasn’t your editor’s fault, really. That’s just how this business works.

And isn’t it good? People are asking for you, specifically. Isn’t that what you wanted?

Then why doesn’t it feel good?

You should be feeling good about it, right? Swelling with pride, even.  Finally, people were putting a name to your work, treating you as more than a faceless, invisible byline. More than just an unfamiliar face in the video content.

Yet somehow, this void inside of you swallows every shred of accomplishment. And it leaves you unsatisfied and wondering if you truly deserve it. 

And maybe—just maybe—it’s because you can’t untangle work from everything else. Because the lines are blurring, and you’ve let Hiori seep into every corner of your life. You’re not even sure you mind.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? He’s the one who made you believe in yourself, who made you feel like you could be more than just a name at the bottom of an article no one reads. He gave you the confidence to think you belonged here. And now, the thought of him lingers like a shadow, casting doubt over everything you do.

It’s not his fault. You know that. But it feels like the push and pull between your career and the “thing” you have with him is tearing you in two. That undefined, messy connection was supposed to be your escape—a rare piece of joy in the relentless grind of your career.

Instead, it feels like you’re being forced to choose.

Career or connection. Ambition or affection.

The tension in your chest is sharp and unrelenting.

No, you didn’t have time to dwell on that. At this point in your career, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Your personal life? Your preferences? None of that mattered.

You just had to suck it up. And do your job.

The stadium continues to buzz with energy as Manshine City wraps up their match with another clutch win. You just finished interviewing Nagi and Chigiri, notebook clutched in your hand.

Exhaustion pulls at you, but you linger a bit longer, tempted by the upcoming match between Bastard München and Italy Ubers. You have to get going if you want to get started with writing at home and sleep early.

Before you can give in to that temptation and the idea of seeing Hiori even from afar, Reo and the Manshine City marketing manager pull you into a conversation about potential content collaborations.

Despite their excitement showing, you’re pretty much drained. Instead, you offer your goodbyes, attempting to avoid getting roped in further to their impromptu planning.

“Stay, Miss Journalist, stay!” Reo calls out dramatically before he drapes himself over Nagi like a cat. With an apologetic smile and a small wave, you quicken your steps to get further away. 

As you turn, you freeze when you nearly collide with someone. Hands catch you by the shoulders, steadying you before quickly letting go. 

“Hiori…” you breathe as you lock gazes with him.

For a moment, you swear he looked… hurt. But it vanishes as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual calm mask. He takes a step back, scratching the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from you. 

You’re just about to speak but Chigiri’s voice slices through the tension. 

“Hiori, hey!” Chigiri bounds over, oblivious to the atmosphere. His bright energy collides with the moment like a sledgehammer.

Hiori forces a strained, lopsided smile. “Hey.”

“You’ve met Miss Journalist, right?” Chigiri gestures at you with a grin. “Sorry for stealing your fan.”

Hiori eyes the Manshine City jersey draped on your shoulders. A casual gift from the team manager, thanking you for the support and hard work. 

His jaw tightens ever so slightly, his hands curling into loose fists at his sides. You feel your stomach twist uncomfortably. 

“Oh yeah? I’m hurt.” A laugh escapes him but his sarcasm is unmistakeable.  

“I-uh, I’m a Bastard München fan at heart, y’know that.” you stammer, gripping your notebook so tight. 

“Well, we don’t mind changing that, do we, Nagi?” Reo teases, his smirk sharp.

Nagi, ever the enigma, tilts his head lazily. “Hmm, changing someone’s mind is a hassle. But Miss Journalist seems worth it.”

That statement doesn’t help.

What the hell is going on in that guy’s head? Are they really riling up Hiori? 

“Wanna make a bet?” Reo’s voice is light, but the edge in his tone is clear.

“I don’t think she needs a bet to know who she likes better,” Hiori cuts in, his voice sharper than usual.

Usually, Hiori won’t be provoked by such trivial things. He gets enough shit like that within his team already. And it doesn’t faze him.

But this—this is different.

Because somehow, you’re involved and in the middle of it. And because it’s you.

He hates the way Reo’s arm brushes against your shoulder as he tries to invade your space. He hates the way Nagi’s detached comment earns a small laugh from Chigiri as if they’re onto something.

And most of all, he hates the image of you in that damn jersey. Or any other team’s jersey. 

Not to mention, he never saw Nagi take an interest in you before. Nor Reo. Not that you’re not attractive. Because you are. But this possessive feeling, is it even right?

It’s irrational. He knows that. He has no right to feel this way. But the jealousy festers anyway, fueled by weeks of silence between you.

“Scared she might like us like us more?” Reo continues to taunt him, his grin widening as he zeroes in on the crack in Hiori’s composure.

Hiori’s fists clench tighter. “Yer delusional,” he snaps, the words biting.

Men. Are. So. Full. Of. Themselves.

You’re not a prize. You’re not some trophy for their ego-driven competition.

Or whatever pissing content is happening between the guys.

Without a word, you turn on your heel and walk away, your steps firm and purposeful. But before you round the corner, you throw a seething glare in Hiori’s direction.

He sees it.

And it hits him harder than anything Reo could have thrown.

Hiori stares at the untouched plate of food in front of him, the hum of conversation around the dinner table fading into a dull, distant noise. His teammates' laughter and energy fill the space in the way only Bastard München could.

But he can’t focus. 

The moment from earlier—Reo’s teasing smirk, Nagi’s casual remarks, and the way you looked at him with such anger—loops in his mind like a highlight reel he couldn’t escape.

He doesn’t know what to do with the emotions simmering under the surface. The possessiveness, the jealousy. 

It doesn’t make sense, not when the two of you aren’t even together. Both of you haven’t talked about feelings, about whether you even felt the same way. 

So why did it feel like something sharp had lodged in his chest every time he thought about you with someone else?

His fingers drum lightly against his thigh as he fights the urge to check his phone again. He’s already done it too many times, looking at your messages, and wondering if he should text you. The silence between you has stretched so long that Hiori isn’t sure how to bridge it.

Am I being pushy? He thought, the question hanging heavy in his mind. 

Is it selfish to want more when we haven’t defined what this is? Am I not being a creep?

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from wanting.

To understand the little things that make you smile. To know you outside the boundaries of work. To know you in a deep, personal, and intimate setting.  

To be the reason for all those moments.

The weight of the thought crashes into him. His chest tightens as the room around him seems to blur—teammates laughing, cutlery clinking, voices overlapping—fading into a hollow echo. The world slows, yet his pulse quickens, each beat louder and heavier than the last.

And then, it hits him.

“I do like her.”

The words slip out of him before he even knows he’s saying them.

The jealousy, the longing, the unspoken hope he’d buried deep enough to convince himself it wasn’t there. But it was. It always had been.

The realization doesn’t just hit—it collides, with the force of a meteor smashing into the earth. It leaves him shaken, reeling, and terrified in all equal measure.

Oh god, I like her.

He’s been running from it, denying it, pretending it wasn’t there. But there’s no escaping it now. No undoing it. It’s real, undeniable, and alive inside him, threatening to consume him if he doesn’t let it out.

His gaze drops to his hands, fidgeting against his jeans. He hates the jealousy twisting in his chest. It wasn’t fair—to you, to the relationship you shared, undefined as it was.

Is my possessiveness hindering her job? She’s here to do her work, and I’m… what? A distraction? A complication?

The weight of the thought makes his stomach churn. And then there was the nagging doubt he couldn’t shake: Does she like me for me? Or is it just Hiori Yo, the athlete? The player?

His teammates’ laughter jolts him out of his thoughts. He blinks, realizing he missed half the conversation. He forces a tight-lipped smile as Isagi nudges him, but his mind wanders back to the phone in his pocket. 

He reaches for it, his heart quickening at the sight of your name on the screen. A message from you.

/yn_offthepage: what the fuck was that about earlier?

He freezes, his thumb hovering over the notification. He hasn’t heard you curse even once. Even through the text, he can hear your biting tone inside his head, ringing.

The screen dims, and Hiori lets it. The weight of his uncertainty presses heavily on him. For now, he couldn’t bring himself to open the message.

Later that night, back in his room, Hiori sits at his desk, staring blankly at his PC screen. Even the idea of gaming felt hollow. His mind was too restless.

His eyes wander to the image of you and him sitting at the pitch all sweaty. It was the candid shot someone had taken during the content shoot where he taught you how to dribble.

You were looking afar with a big smile on your face, and he was looking at you with so much yearning, the smallest smile tugging at his lips, betraying him.

The sight of it stirred something in him. A longing, sharp and bittersweet. He wanted to know if you ever looked at him the way he looked at you at that moment.

But what if opening up ruined what you already had? What if his feelings crossed a line you weren’t ready to acknowledge?

Hiori sighs, leaning back in his chair. The questions linger, unanswered. 

For now, all he can do is sit with them, hoping he’d find the courage to face you—and himself—soon.

Your schedule finally winds down when the JFA hosts a midseason party disguised as a roadshow for the upcoming months and next season.

It’s a rare opportunity to step away from the chaos of your work, and you’re willing to take it. Networking, getting insider info straight from the lion’s den—and of course, free food and drinks.

Especially the free-flowing alcohol.

Despite the “casual” label slapped on the event, it’s still as lavish as you’d expect. Thank goodness there’s no formal dress code. You settled on your favorite gray high-waisted trousers paired with a tight-fitting black sleeveless turtleneck. Professional but bold, with just enough skin to leave an impression. 

You can never go wrong with a little show of confidence, after all.

At the venue, you exchange pleasantries with Anri and Ego. The three of you make for an unusual trio, seated together like this. While you take notes as part of your routine, Anri occasionally scolds Ego for yawning or delivering sharp quips from the side. 

The roadshow presentation is a mix of team management personnel, media representatives, investors, and a few JFA partners. As usual, the rest of the crowd is either running late or loitering outside, waiting for the afterparty to begin.

At least, you’re at ease knowing that you won’t bump into any players. Not just yet.

As soon as the program ends, the three of you continue to chat at the bar counter over drinks. But before you can even swap gossip with Anri, she’s whisked away by a group of Blue Lock graduates—punctual players from Italy Ubers. That leaves you alone with Ego, who sips whiskey neat while you nurse a Long Island iced tea.

“You’re doing better than the last time we met. Not bad for an unpolished gem,” he remarks dryly, lifting his glass.

It’s a backhanded compliment, but you can’t help the small flicker of pride it sparks.

“It’s... okay, I guess. But honestly, I didn’t expect how tough it’d be. The lines between work, passion, and personal life blur so easily.”

You ramble about juggling deadlines, clashing assignments, and the weight of endless expectations. Ego listens in silence, his sharp gaze unwavering.

“Then be an egoist,” he says bluntly, cutting through your ramblings like a knife. “You think those brats are just selfish jerks? They are. But egoism is what keeps them on top.

“It’s what makes them grow, thrive, and become the best. You’re no different. You have to feed your ego too, or else you’ll be devoured and spat out until you’re an empty husk of yourself.”

His words settle heavily in your chest. Before you can respond, Ego stands up, gives a half-hearted wave, and strides toward the exit, muttering something about how his tolerance for the evening’s schmoozing has reached its limit.

Scanning the room, you notice Anri still deep in conversation with some JFA people by the dance floor, while others mingle in scattered groups. The bar counter feels empty now, save for you and the two bartenders.

It’s a good time to pause and gather your thoughts—or maybe strike up a conversation with someone if the alcohol kicks in enough courage. 

For now, you sit quietly, Ego’s words echoing in your mind.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to stand up for yourself—to push for better assignments, to confront Hiori, to stop burying your frustrations under layers of professionalism and fear.

Liquid courage starts to course through your body, loosening your hesitation. You pull out your phone and quickly type a message to your editor.

“I want a new assignment. I think I deserve that much, don’t I?” You hit send and switch your phone to Do Not Disturb before you can even second-guess yourself.

Before your musings can go deeper, someone slides onto the stool to your right. You glance up to see Reo with his cheeks flushed pink and his smile wide with mischief. 

Behind him, Nagi trails, hands stuffed into his pockets, his disheveled hair giving him an even lazier charm. The scent of whiskey clings to them both, Reo more noticeably so.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t our favorite journalist,” Reo greets, his voice dripping with playful charm. “What are you doing here all alone? Don’t you know parties are for mingling?”

You glance up, managing to offer a small smile. “And here I thought parties were for free food and drinks.”

“Touché,” Reo laughs, leaning against the bar counter. “But c’mon, there’s more to this party than just snacks. Like us, for instance.”

“Us?” you echo, your brows raising slightly.

“Me and Nagi, of course,” he says, draping an arm over Nagi’s shoulder. “You know, we were just talking about you earlier. He thinks you’re cute.”

Nagi gives a small, noncommittal shrug, his half-lidded eyes fixed on you. “He’s not wrong.”

You blink, the casualness of his statement catches you off guard. Before you can process it, Reo leans in closer, his grin widening. “You should come dance with us. I mean, what’s the harm? A little fun never hurt anyone, right?”

Your laughter is polite but nervous as you shake your head. “I’m fine here, really.”

“Oh, come on,” Reo presses, nudging Nagi toward you. “You look real nice tonight. Don’t tell me you’re just going to sit here all night while looking like that.”

The warmth of Reo’s arm brushing against yours sends a strange buzz through you. Nagi watches quietly, an amused glint in his eyes, as though content to let Reo take the lead in whatever this is.

“You don’t have a boyfriend, right?” Nagi asks suddenly, his voice calm but cutting through the noise around you.

The question startles you, and your answer comes almost automatically. “I don’t.”

“Good,” Reo murmurs, his voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. “Then no one’s going to mind if we take you home tonight.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and electric. You almost choke on your drink, coughing slightly as you gape at him. “Wait, what?”

“Take you home,” Reo repeats, his smile slow and deliberate as if testing how far he can push. “You, me, and Nagi. What do you say? We’ll make sure it’s worth your time.”

Nagi’s lips quirk into a faint smile, watching you with an unreadable expression. “Reo’s kidding… mostly.” His tone is dry, but there’s an edge of intrigue that makes it hard to tell where the joke ends.

Your pulse quickens, confusion and a strange heat mingling as you glance between them. Reo’s boldness is dizzying while Nagi’s quiet amusement only adds to your disorientation.

“I… I’m flattered,” you stammer, your voice wavering. “But I’m not interested.”

“Aww c’mon! Give us a chance?” Reo pleads, lightly touching your bare arms.

“I’m really-” 

You wonder if this is just a game to him or something more. But before you can untangle your thoughts, a firm hand lands on the counter to your left, the loud cutting through the tension like a blade.

You turn your head to see Hiori, his smile strained but unwavering. His gaze flickers between you before settling on Reo.

“Mind if I borrow Miss Journalist for a while?” he asks smoothly, though his words leave no room for argument.

Reo raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin unfaltering. “Alright, alright. But I’ll get my dance one day, Miss Journalist! Think about it!”

Hiori doesn’t wait for a reply, instead, he places a gentle but firm hand on your lower back, guiding you away from the bar as Reo and Nagi watch the both of you saunter away. 

"Hey," a small smile plays on Hiori’s lips as he greets you. 

"Hi."

The balcony door slides shut behind him, muting the pounding bass and chatter from the dance floor. It’s just the two of you now, isolated from the noise, the cool autumn air biting at your skin.

You take a good look at Hiori. A white t-shirt tucked into matching trousers, paired with a soft navy cardigan that clings to his frame. He looks effortlessly put together, as always.

"Ya alright?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah," you lie, the words feel heavier than they should.

"What was that about?" Hiori frowns, tilting his head slightly.

"I… think Reo was asking me to uh… sleep with him and Nagi? Are they like, together?" you blurt out, half-laughing, trying to lighten the tension you can already feel brewing.

"Yeah, they are. Pretty low-key 'bout it. Wild, huh?" he chuckles, and for a moment, the tension eases.

But the silence that follows grows heavy. For a minute, neither of you talk. The soft whistle of the wind and the distant hum of the city fill the void between you, but neither of you moves to break it. Finally, you speak.

"You don’t text me anymore," you say suddenly, the accusation sharp.

"Ya never replied," Hiori counters just as quickly, his tone flat but the edge unmistakable.

You bite your lip. "I didn’t know what to say. It felt like you were accusing me of something."

Now, Hiori looks guilty, his lips pressing into a thin line.  "Just… just stop tryin’ to avoid this. Shuttin’ me out isn’t going to fix the problem."

"I wasn’t shutting you out," you argue, but even you don’t believe it. "I just—didn’t know how to respond. It felt like no matter what I said, it wouldn’t be enough."

"And ya thought ignorin’ me was better? Just pretendin’ nothin’ happened?" His voice rises, frustration simmering to the surface.

"What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, it was just work. I’m not interested in Nagi or Manshine City.’ What am I to you to have to defend myself like that?" you snap back, your voice trembling. 

"I don’t know!" Hiori snaps back, his frustration breaking through. "I thought we were close enough to say things like that to each other!"

"And your message had no emojis!" your words overlap with Hiori. It was definitely a petty statement but at this point, your emotions are spilling over in ways even you don’t understand.

Hiori’s eyes narrow, his voice dropping to a dangerous softness. "Didya ever care about me?"

"Because it doesn’t feel like ya do. Ya ignored me when we won. I looked for ya. I know ya saw me. But ya wouldn’t even look my way.." His voice cracks and you see the hurt he’s been burying. 

"Do ya know what that felt like?" His voice is a whisper, pleading. 

You know the answer. That it hurt like a bitch. Because you felt the same pain when both of you went on the silent treatment for weeks. Embarrassment flooded your chest.

This could’ve been resolved easily by just talking things through. This confrontation could’ve been avoided and saved you both the time. But no. 

Instead, you let the hurt fester even further, creating this invisible barrier between the two of you. And now, the blame game is on. And it doesn’t even make sense. 

"It wasn’t about you!" Before you can even think, your words tumbling out in desperation. "It was for work. I-I didn’t want to be seen as the Bastard München… fangirl."

"Why not?" Hiori’s voice rises, taken aback by your words. "We ain’t good enough fer ya? Or is it just me? Am I not good enough fer ya?"

The words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. "I didn’t say that," you whisper, your voice trembling.

"And why should that matter?" Hiori snaps, his voice raw with emotion. "Why does it feel like yer always running away from me?"

Even Hiori himself can’t comprehend why he’s so frustrated. He’s felt betrayal from his parents before. For them caring more about his stature as an athlete than his well-being as their son.

But this one’s different.

He knows how petty he is being. But he can’t help himself not be vulnerable around you. All reason, all logic thrown out of the window because of you. 

All he can think at this point is how good it felt talking to you about work and games. How good it felt when you would talk about football with him with such a glimmer in your eyes that it fascinates him to see how you view the sport. 

How it felt good when you would run up to him to interview him and the team as you guys exchange knowing smiles, fingers grazing just barely. All he knows is that you are magnetic. 

Even right now, all he can think about is being close to you. 

You turn away from him. A shiver runs down your spine, regretting not wearing something more warm for this party.

I can’t do this. Not now, you thought. 

“Please leave me alone. For now. I can’t do this, Hiori.”

The autumn air nips are your arms. Instinctively, you cross your arm in hopes of warming yourself, eyes gazing away from Hiori still. A warm hand envelopes one of yours and you feel the thick cardigan drapes over you, shielding you from the cold wind. 

Hiori’s gaze softens, but his voice remains firm. "M’not leaving until ya tell me what’s going on. Why are ya pushing me away?"

Your shoulders slump as the weight of it all crashes down on you. "Because I feel guilty, okay?" you say. "I don’t want you to think I’m using you."

"People talk," you continue, your voice breaking. "All I hear is how I’m some opportunist, bandwagoning on Bastard München—on you."

You swallow hard, your chest tightening. "I don’t know what this is," you finally admit, gesturing between the two of you. 

"I don’t know what we are, or what I’m even allowed to hope for. And I don’t want to push you or cross a line, but it’s—" Your voice breaks, tears threatening to spill any moment.

"It’s like I’m trying to walk on this invisible tightrope, and I’m scared of messing it all up."

Hiori’s gaze softens, but you keep going, unable to stop now. "I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know how to navigate this—whatever this is—without hurting you or myself or both. And why should you care, right?" you add bitterly, the words tasting like poison.

Hiori steps closer, his voice breaking. "I care. Yer the one person who made me feel like more than just a player. And it hurts like hell to feel like I don’t matter to ya."

"You do matter," you whisper, your voice trembling. "You’re the one thing I think about when I work, Hiori. You’re the reason I believe in myself. But you’re… you’re s-so out of reach, and I’m terrified of ruining what little we have."

Your voice quivers as you reply, "And I don’t know how to fix it, Hiori. I don’t even know where to begin. And it’s not fair to you. You’re you—amazing and steady and… everything I’m not."

He closes the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders. "Dontcha get it? I don’t need us to have all the answers now. Just need ya to stop running."

Tears stream down your face as the weight of his words sinks in. "I’m scared," you whisper.

"And ya think I’m not?" he shoots back, his voice cracking. 

"Yer all I think about, and it terrifies me. But I don’t care. I’m here. I’m stayin’. And I’ll wait as long as it takes fer ya to figure out who ya are—because I already know who ya are to me."

For a moment, the world holds still. Then Hiori closes the distance between you, his hands cupping your face gently. He hesitates, searching your eyes for permission, and when you don’t pull away, he leans in.

"Yer amazing," he whispers, breath hot against your lips. "And ya don’t even realize it."

The kiss is soft at first, testing, but quickly deepens as the emotions between you spill over. His lips are warm, grounding you, and when his tongue brushes yours, it leaves you breathless.

You melt under his touch. The kiss itself is intoxicating, as if you’re drowning, lightheaded by the swirling emotions and the budding heat within you.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. "I like ya too, y’know" he murmurs. "M’sorry fer doubting ya. Fer making ya feel like ya had to carry this alone."

He kisses you again, slower this time as if savoring the moment. "I’m sorry for being a coward. For not talking to you."

You clutch at his shirt, your tears mingling with his kiss. "I’m sorry too," you whisper into his mouth.

He smiles faintly, brushing a tear from your cheek. "All this because my message didn’t have an emoji, huh?" he laughs softly, the sound vibrating against your lips.

You let out a shaky laugh, the tension between you finally giving way to something lighter. In this moment, with him, you feel the weight of your worries start to lift, even if just for now.

In this moment, with him, you wish the night would never end.

amari's notes: struggled to write this one, i wanted to really get this chapter out quickly but i wasnt satisfied with my first drafts so i had to rewrite it so many times. i really wanted this to come out well. this chapter is close to my heart, esp when hiori and miss journalist talk about their insecurities. anw, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask. i'll greatly appreciate it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

[taffywabbit]

idk if i'm way off the mark on this, but the way some people are responding to that Guillermo del Toro interview about the decline of studio animation is a bit frustrating to me. specifically the bit where he talks about "emoji animation" and how everything is over-animated and pushed too far and things are rarely allowed to not be ultra-cartoony (y'know, because animation always needs to be marketable to children who are never trusted to have attention spans, right?). like, i think he's generally correct about it! but some folks are taking the wrong message away from that.

i've seen people going off about how "soulless" and "corporate" various recent examples are, and talking about these pieces of media as though they're the result of some kind of personal failing or lack of skill/range on the part of the animators, and it's just like. do people realize that's the only animation you're usually allowed to DO in the industry, unless you get incredibly lucky and land yourself on a project/studio that's unusually cool?

when i was in college for animation it was literally drilled into us nonstop that everything had to be pushed more, that exaggeration was not a guideline or a sometimes-treat but a hard rule that always had to be applied regardless of what was going on, because the viewer couldn't be trusted to pick up on subtlety and we sure as hell couldn't be trusted to convey it. you ever wonder why there's such a specific vibe to a lot of self-directed student films, particularly ones that are focused on character acting/interaction or deep emotions and introspection (especially when there's minimal/no dialogue)? it's because for a lot of young animators, they haven't had the freedom to experiment with realism and subtlety up to that point and they're likely not going to have it again for a while (or at all, unless their career path leads to higher positions where they might have more creative direction over the things they work on. which also becomes a lot less likely if they're anything other than a cishet white dude, for what it's worth).

i would LOVE to see more nuanced, realistic, understated motion and acting in animation. i WANT more characters to be able to express what they're feeling through natural body language and facial cues and for scenes to allow me to breathe instead of spelling everything out in giant bold flashing text all the time. what del Toro wants to see changed in the animation industry sounds great, and i hope others join him in seeking to revamp what modern animation is allowed to be.

but as things currently stand, and as they've stood for a long while now, most artists doing the grunt work on the shows and movies you see are completely at the mercy of corporations and networks who have a vested interest in producing a very specific kind of marketable and cost-efficient media all the time. (and by extension that style is ALSO what's taught in most animation schools, because their job more than anything is to grind you down into a perfect little sweatshop worker who will bend over backwards to meet quotas and get your work approved and not question the higher-ups, even if you have little to no personal investment in the projects you're working on, so that the studios who employ you can maintain their good reputations or whatever)

anyways idk what my point was here, this really just sorta became a rant and my views have undoubtedly been coloured by my own personal experiences (this kinda shit is largely why i dropped out before my last year of animation school, for the record).

i guess just be kind to folks in the animation industry? they've had it fucking rough nonstop for well over a century (the majority of them are still not unionized and there's HUGE pushback against doing so in many places). i assure you they are doing their best to infuse the latest uninspired illumination flick or weird spinoff kids' show with literally any amount of soul they can. you don't have to like the stuff that gets produced by any means! be a hater! i'm certainly not gonna stop you. just remember where these creative decisions come from and why these conditions exist, and consider that when YOU watched something and thought "hmm that could've been done better", you can bet your ass someone actually working on it probably thought the same thing but couldn't do anything about it. these things WILL change as the industry itself improves, but in the meantime folks have to pay their rent, and that usually means doing what they're told and working in a way that will minimize revisions and meet quotas so they can keep their jobs. it sucks, but it is what it is.

[370005]

sollux & terezi on beforus are in the business of ruining lives (for fun and profit)

details + bonus doodles under cut

ive been in a beforus mood lately so im thinking abt what the trolls lives could have been like.

sollux and terezi are white collar criminals. i wanted to give her the seer curse of Seeing Things even though she isn't a player, so she utilizes her infinite outcome matrix analysis abilities to forsee tragedies specifically caused by negligence. there was definitely a point in her childhood where she attempted to be a mothmanesque figure, warning potential innocents of upcoming events and terrorizing the people responsible for totally preventable misfortune.

but then she grew up and realized that the people who were responsible for shoddy architecture, massive layoffs, and general societal injustices didn't have a conscience to torment. They were gaming the system for money $$$ and you had to hit them where it hurts. she used her proclivity for predicting small-scale catastrophes to predict how said ensuing scandals would affect the stocks for the entities involved. you can't make the executive heads feel bad about dropping 30% of their staff to feed their own salaries, but you can definitely manipulate the market and ruin their public perception until people are papering their hives with the company currency

sollux, who worked the BSE as their best surveillance analyst, clocked terezi as a front runner when she showed up out of absolutely nowhere and scored huge profits after two consecutive PR disasters led to the bankruptcy of like 8 corps and heavy damage to their subsidiaries. it was kind of impressive, but he had a job to do yaknow? terezi, who was immediately on the run from the beforus finance cops and had to be sneakier and meaner with her manipulation, and sollux became completely obsessed with this criminal mastermind who was VERY easy to track. she was always behind the scenes in every major upset but sloppy about it. he probably should have turned her over to the authorities the second he knew her location. but, let's be honest, can you resist a pyrope on a mission?

after a very tumultuous rivalry that swung red and black like a centrifuge they eventually join forces because it turns out terezi doesn't have any inside info. she's just acting on VERY good hunches. there's honestly not really anything illegal she's doing PERSAY. and then sollux joins the efforts and uses his forensic experience to make her a lot harder to track, as well as collecting sensitive info and facilitating scandals that will rock the bottom line of anyone they consider an enemy. terezi is very into the networking part of it, amassing a silent army of business associates who can do the dirty work for them, either through bribery or blackmail. she knows how to get people to do what she wants >:] it's a bit morally dubious but it's all for the sake of the people.

lots of fun moments with these two, like when sollux brainstorms a series of possible connections that could insinuate that a group of people have been too careless in their various embezzlement schemez and theres a big tower of cards begging to be toppled. or when terezi comes to a sudden realisation that a potential whistleblower's nerve is about to run out and they've gotta act NOW if they want to benefit from the fallout.

these two are always hiding from the 9+ cumulative life sentences they've accrued and the financial ruin theyve rained on corporate beforus. as a result, they pretty much only have each other, and maybe a handful of their most trusted affiliates. kind of hard to nourish any type of relationship when the people close to you are in danger of being implicated in your many crimes and all of your enemies are incredibly wealthy, powerful, and influential. i imagine their luck runs out one day and they're disappeared from society without a trace.

[melandrops]

whispers softly Come here. No, come closer. A bit closer. Perfect.

I know neoliberal is just code for dumb stupidhead if you're a leftist who doesn't read theory, but I need all of you to know that Adjudicator Shrue isn't a neoliberal.

Neoliberalism specifically advocates for deregulation, for a free market with very little government interference and for privatization of various (traditionally government owned/regulated) industries. It's often associated with trickle down economics is a largely conservative ideology.

Where does Shrue give any indication that they align with these principles? Shrue is anti-war, pro government, and a highly principled person that is not driven by money.

I'd say that in season two, during the reelection campaign, Shrue presents more as a liberal identity. They're concerned with optics, with PR and with making the right move in order to get reelected. However they also stand by their principles and remain relatively honest. They want progress, but the progress they're searching for is far from radical and they're not particularly fussed about how soon it happens.

By the time we first see them in season 3, it's clear the war has radicalized Shrue a bit. They're jaded, tired and they never wanted the war to begin with but now they have to contend with it along with all the other remaining pieces on the board. They're moving more left on the scale. They stand out among the crowd as an "alternative voice" but they aren't too different, they still largely adhere to the same beliefs about sacrifice and religion.

At the point in the series that I'm making this post (post episode 39), it's safe to say that Shrue has been fully radicalized by the exposure to the full evil that encapsulates their government. It's unclear what policies Shrue will take from here on out in public, but in private we know Shrue does not hold any of the same conservative beliefs that the other politicians do. They hate the corporatism, they hate the money talk, and they hate the manipulation and the lies. This is no neoliberal.

I'm not just saying all this to sound like a nerd or like I'm smart. Shrue's political beliefs have genuine impact on the choices they'll make in the future and on the narrative. It's important to understand the media you're engaging in and the full weight behind it. You might think Shrue is an idiot, but they're not a neoliberal.

[nostalgicmiscellaneous]

Lol as someone who actually works in the industry: you guys are very, very naive if you believe a tumblr blog would tell you secrets about the behind the scenes of Bridgerton for a bubble of specific fans, and even less that someone who actually have access to executives would be around telling so many incorrect stuff that can be proven wrong with some clicks. And would tell you about the actors that way, while working for Netflix. It's hilarious because production is segmented, there are different crews as well, and it simply wouldn't have production/executive inside information if it worked close enough to the actors day by day to know them, and they wouldn't work with all of them to know them personally, repeatedly in the way it says, as the teams are the same for a long time and they all have made their opinions on actors very clear. It's so stupid that it made the mistake of telling you all it doesn't work with crew. They really don't know how a production of a show works and it's funny to see anyone believing it. Then again, only Kanthony and Benophy fans do.

Not only that, contradicting not simply Netflix's news of profitability and success of Season 3, but in fact, actual market news and data releases, Investments prospects, and investors reports, plus licensing, that anyone with any inside information would know it's done publicly and show the actual success and profit delivered by Season 3. To even try to say it lost money, Lol. The data is there, if you worked in a exec. position, even management position, you wouldn't say something so ignorant.

Critically, official certified critics, and audience numbers averaged above Season 2 and on par with Season 1, and you can also check the aggregate of that on RT, IMDB, sites that reunited and average the score. Audience is measured not only by Netflix, but Luminate and Nielsen. Data that is ALSO PUBLIC. And that showed the successful amount of views, specially recovering audience that Season 2 had lost. It was also superior to QC. Netflix also ranks #6 ( above Season 2, again) as their most viewed seasons. Another public information.

It becomes evident you're dealing with a fan of Anthony and Kate and Sophie and Benedict when it spills target hate for particular actors, with nonsense that is so painfully clear from a fandom member, a mere angry fan trying with a insane agenda.

That's the problem when someone has an agenda against some actors and some fictional characters, a TV show, specifically a season. They throw away logic and believe anyone.

There is no insider, you have actual market information and investors/ experts that are not even Netflix connected telling you the success of season 3. Anyone who works for the industry would know that. Lol

There is no inside information of actors from that person. All cast and crew, and connected workers, and adjacents from media, PR and more, have their words and testaments to the cast and crew openly at their socials, dismantling their obsessive nonsense, contradicting them. I contradict them, lol, as i've actually met some of them and know their work ethics and behavior.

And most importantly, the so-called ''insider'' is not even from or in the UK…yes, i know exactly what i am talking about. But for now, i wont publish. For now.

Just be aware of bullshit and propaganda with fanwar nonsense. You're dealing with someone who is simply a discontent Kanthony & Benophy fan, and a Simone fan and hater of other actors in the show ( VERY OBVIOUS THE TARGETED HATE), connected ( lol very much connected) to a blog who has adopted the name of "Anti" since the start, who hates Polin. Some people just want to create a narrative, and while they say that Benedict is the most popular and wanted character for the GA, try to justify an eventual less number say it would be S3 fault, when S3 actually revamped the numbers from S2 and had incredible profitability ( again, public data).

But be aware that we know with 100% certainty, people like that do not work for Netflix. They don't even have a clue what a netflix contract is and how it works.

Also, a warning: People should have their faces and real names on when they say things, responsibility is a must, don't you all agree? Sometimes people think they are protected under the anonymity of a tumblr url to lie their hearts out and become desperate later when they have to own personally, with their actual faces and real names, and social reputation, the stupidity of their words.

And in a more fundamental sense, grow up. Tomorrow, someone else can simply create a blog telling the opposite about your favorites, their work, their seasons, it's a game nobody wins when fans act that desperate and stupid, lying and manipulating.

Or worse: perhaps someone with actual information can start posting, and you wouldn't like what they have to say…reflect on that.

[dearreader]

i saw another video on the it ends with us drama and i honestly don’t feel comfortable with any of it since i found out that just baldoni hired the same PR firm that represented johnny depp in his trial against amber heard, marilyn manson, danny masterson, and so many other known abusers.

like knowing that + the whole cast doesn’t want to talk to him or do promo feels weird. and the fact that now the dramas turned into bagging on blake lively specifically it just feels wrong. like im not saying how blake handled the movie is right but it definitely feels like there’s a lot more to this than what we’re seeing.

(and the fact the internet loves to dog pile on a woman they hate and be mean isn’t good with which is ANOTHER thing i don’t like about this whole thing. no matter what she did wrong she doesn’t deserve this.)

because if it was just differences in telling the story or movie cuts why is the whole cast shunning justin and not doing promo? especially with colleen hoover wanted him to be the director and play ryle? because why is a guy who’s entire marketing is “i need to tell this story and spread awareness” using a firm who has represented known abusers?

idk it just doesn’t feel right and i actually want to know more of what happened behind the scenes besides what were inferring + how bad blake’s hair care line is. there is more to this than what we’re seeing and i feel like it’ll come out and everyone’s going to do a “we owe blake an apology” when this could’ve all been avoided if we had waited or not turned it into the drama of the week!