#Growing Your Net Worth

[borngeniusworld]

A healthy relationship with money

Healthy relationship with money Maintaining a healthy and positive relationship with money involves a combination of mindset, behaviors, and practical strategies. Here are key aspects to consider:1. Mindset Shift: – Abundance vs. Scarcity: Adopt an abundance mindset, focusing on opportunities and possibilities rather than a scarcity mindset centered on limitations. – Gratitude: Acknowledge and…

[fastlane-freedom]

This Is How You Can Know Your Net Worth

The term net worth has a nice, rich-person ring to it, doesn’t it? But you’re wrong if you think it’s only for the mega-rich; everyone has a net worth. Checking your net worth is like using a thermometer to check your temperature (your financial temperature). If your temperature spikes up, you’d likely go to a doctor for testing. The same goes for your financial/net worth temp, except that a…

[luveline]

kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he treks the last step up to the front door. The door gets caught on the latch when he pushes it open, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside. 

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?” 

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light. 

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat. 

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside. 

It’s good to be home. 

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated. 

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone. 

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive. 

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways. 

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves. 

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate. 

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m ten minutes away. 

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast. 

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently. 

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in. 

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness. 

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side. 

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.” 

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything. 

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…”  Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?” 

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.” 

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.” 

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?” 

“She won’t let me eat.” 

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.” 

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, like always. What can I do?” 

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.” 

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for. 

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you. 

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.” 

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.” 

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks. 

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?” 

“Avery’s always nice.” 

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.” 

Steve shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.” 

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.” 

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.” 

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away. 

“You comfortable enough?” he asks. 

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” 

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.” 

“But you had fun, right?” 

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.” 

“Exhausted?” you ask. 

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.” 

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.” 

“You did not.” 

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy). 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.” 

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek. 

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.” 

“Love you, Steve.” 

“Love you, too.”

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (blurb 1)

In which the happy couple reaches a major milestone...

series masterlist

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

E-NEWS

Aubrey Yang, Oscar-Award winning actress and award-winning director is set to direct the historical series Circe, based off of the book of the same title. Recently graduated from NYU with a double major in Classics and Film, Yang will take this expertise into her directing for Netflix. Since her Oscar, Yang has directed Episodes 3&4 of PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS, Season 2, Loverland and Boulevard 48. At the young age of 23, we hope to see her continue to thrive in this industry.

Her longtime alleged boyfriend, Oliver Bearman, enters his 7th year of Formula One racing, the young prodigy continuing his contract with Ferrari. Since his debut year, he has won 8 grand prix's and stays consistently on the podium or scoring points.

The two are often seen together at Bearman's races or Yang's premieres. Although nothing has been confirmed between the two, they have been spotted in Monaco, New York, Italy and Vancouver, where they have multiple estates.

Between the alleged couple, they have a net worth of over $40 million: we sincerely hope that a prenup is in their future.

See more: .....

aubreyyang & olliebearman posted

aubreyyang & olliebearman hard launch (and no prenup)

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, f1wags and 108,290 others

comments have been limited

olliebearman posted

olliebearman bagged a baddie 5 years ago, locked her in for forever

I can't believe I get to love you every single day, darling I can't wait to make you a mother and grow old with you. Also your stuck with me forever now love you aubs

tagged: aubreyyang

liked by aryansimhadri, charlesleclerc and 72,850 others

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f1wagsanddrrivers DAY ONES WILL KNOW THE INSANE PIPELINE

aubreyyangfan19 still remember when Aubrey was a wee baby NOW SHES GETTING MARRIED WHAT

aryansimhadri mama y papa

-- olliebearman im the father who stepped up 😤

alexandrasaintmleux photo creds for the last pic??

-- aubreyyang shout out to Alex our pro photographer

user1 im crying were getting so much content all of a sudden im choking

user4 just saw someone fall to their knees in a Walmart

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang five years down, forever to go!

I love you my sweet boy, love your kindness, your heart and your laugh. You make me want to be a better person everyday, and I will walk by you for the rest of our lives

liked by oliviarodrigo, kimi_antonelli and 89,218 others

view all comments

oliviarodrigo shoutout to everyone who has had to see the ugly (all of the pda and excess cuteness)

-- dior.n.goodjohn word

-- alexandrasaintmleux word

-- alexalbon word

-- lilymhe word

-- maxverstappen word

-- charles_leclerc word

-- aubreyyang okay were getting flamed 😰

-- olliebearman its okay they're just jealous

comments have been limited

dior.n.goodjohn posted on their story

caption: in honour of ollie and Aubrey hard launching (in the most dramatic way ever) here is a content for the nation

tagged: aubreyyang, olliebearman

arthurleclerc posted on their story

caption: fav couple to thirdwheel

tagged: aubreyyang, olliebearman

charles_leclerc posted on their story

caption: finally

tagged: aubreyyang, olliebearman

alexandrasaintmleux posted on their story

caption: aunt and uncle

tagged: aubreyyang, olliebearman

Twitter

olliebearmanupppdates @olliebearnmanf1p

in honour of mother and father hard launching their 5 year long relationship, everyone comment down below their fav ollbrie moment

olliebearmanupppdates @olliebearnmanf1p

mine is that one time there was a platform w no stairs and she was wearing heels so he jumped off and he told her to throw down her purse and jump so he could catch her AND HE DID THATS A REAL MAN

user1 @ussssserrrr1

NAHHH bc this man is so down bad for her (I would be too shes so fineee) mine is when they were in Charles and Alex's wedding party and they looked so freaking good together RAHH

aubreyxollie @loverboysform1

a personal piece of ollbrie renaissance that is near and dear to my heart is how hes always touching her LIKE JRWOEJ the hand placements on her waist and back every time their out together

aubreyxollie @loverboysform1

also here is a collection of pap pics that make me sob and want to sleep in the highway

aubreyyangcult02 @aubreyyangmyqueen

mine is the fact that they're each others comfort people like every time their together they look so at ease bro

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237 @ilivbullyingjeongin @eiaaasamantha @1uvsptnik @yla-aira @ririyulife

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[000-pawz]

" fantasy romance tropes " bnd series masterlist °｡⋆⸜ 🪽♡🪄

coming soon!

a/n: i was listening to dawn in the adan by ichiko aoba and got inspired to start a series! i barely see any fantasy stuff on here and i'm a big lover of it so here this is :3 <3 (p.s. there won't be an order to posting! it'll be random >3<) i tried to put my own spin on these tropes, so i hope you guys look forward to them! <3

"bloom for me" - sungho x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

angel sungho x human!reader | modern-day au, forbidden love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

"sungho has been assigned to be your guardian angel, to look after you from afar, and to make sure you stay out of harm's way. the only rules? don't get too close and never interfere with true fate. but when you find yourself in a dark place, unsure of whether life is truly worth living, sungho finds himself unable to simply sit around and watch you fall apart. he wants to show you the light; even if he must sacrifice everything he has even known for it."

"night life stars" - riwoo x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

elf!riwoo x human!reader | old fantasy au, forbidden love, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers

"growing up, you've always been told to never pass the flower field in the woods and to stay far away from elf territory because everyone knows that elves are the most violent creatures in the forest. one summer, a drought spreads throughout your village, and while fetching water from a stream in the woods for your family, you end up slipping and hitting your head on a rock. when you finally wake up, your eyes immediately lock on to a pair of glimmering green ones. eyes that belong to the enemy itself."

"safest sounds"- jaehyun x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

hybrid!jaehyun x human!reader | modern-day au, hybrids & humans, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, living together

"after another tiring day at work, you're walking back to your apartment when you hear soft cries coming from an alleyway. with your undeniable curiosity, you go to find the source of sound—and much to your surprise, you find an abandoned hybrid curled up in a ball, shivering from the cold. with a promise to take him to a shelter when the sun rises, you let him come home with you so he can eat and have a warm place to sleep for the night. in the morning, though, you discover that this hybrid has already claimed you as his owner."

"seneca" - taesan x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

magic!taesan x non-magic!reader | modern-day magic, rivals to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort

"han taesan. the bane of your existence. he's been your academic rival at your boarding school ever since you transferred a few years ago, and you have despised him ever since. on your way home one day, you end up encountering some people looking for trouble. in the blink of an eye, taesan is there to help you get away, but something is off. might it be his glowing hands and eyes? no, no, no. you must only be imagining things... but taesan's threat to keep everything a secret says otherwise."

"dance on the moon" - leehan x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

mermaid!leehan x human!reader | pirate au, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, hidden love

"there's nothing more that you hate than working as a maid on this deck. your captain and crew are worse than scum and you miss home every day, but you must do as they say if you want to survive. one stormy night, the crew catches a mermaid in their net while in the pits of the sea and your captain declares to sell him on the market as soon as they reach land. but when you become tasked to watch over the poor mermaid every night, you end up promising to help him escape back to his home. maybe he could find a way to help you escape too."

"seek for warmth" - woonhak x reader ˚ ⋆｡˚

vampire!woonhak x vampire!reader | vampire au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

"woonhak never asked to be a vampire; he never wanted to live a life he didn't choose and be cursed to live forever. thankfully, there's another fledgling in the coven who sees the light still shining in his undead eyes. you're there with him through the insatiable hunger and the yearning for a past he never had the chance to live, holding his hand through it all. eventually, he begins to find solace in your warmth despite his fingers being cold to the touch."

masterlist

[thr0wnawayy]

Chapter 429 has been my Dabi's Dance

I can't stop smiling.

I wanted to start off by saying thank you. Not to Hori, but to you all. Every last one of you in these tags for your contributions. Be it analysis, re-reads, fan works or simply your perspectives. I look forward to seeing what you will make in the future.

So, Thank you.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. MHA was always in the background of my life and I hated it. I don't watch anime and yet still MHA related media would make it's way onto my socials in all it's obnoxious forms. This went on for years.

And then suddenly, it stopped. It seemed like MHA's craze had died down, I'd still see it from time to time through merchandise but never to the consistency it had prior.

That was until Dabi's Dance was published and the net went wild.

I knew a few things about Endeavor from my past exposure, he was universally hated and abused his kids and wife (to the point she scalded her son in a fit of psychosis).

Deciding I had nothing better to do, I found myself searching to see what kind of consequences would befall such a monstrous character.

Would he fall like Icarus, be torn apart by the public, how would the family he ruined react to the news?.

And then, nothing. No punishment, no reaction. Just dead air.

I recall that my face dropped internally. My blank expression mirrored my phone screen's sterile nature, as it displayed the information in front of me.

He got away with it. So I did some digging and it got so much worse.

Bakugo's evasion of any consequences or damages, coddled and shielded by Hori's inability to go through on anything.

Hawks who murdered a near crippled man on a hypothesis, for the mere crime of having the "wrong" quirk, for not giving up, for being "unlucky"

Aizawa, Hori's little mouthpiece. who decides to play judge, jury and executioner with the futures of students he's supposed to be teaching. Only for the Nedzu and the narrative to allow him, his friends turned into lapdogs that agree to the letter.

The Commission who strive to keep theirrotting husk of a system alive through assasins, child soldiers and indoctrination.

Even if it's gears must be lubricated with blood, even if it means lying to the world and having them clean up the mess. They MUST stay on top, the illusion must be upheld.

I just couldn't fathom how this was seen as a good thing.

And somewhere along the way I began to feel something akin to hate. Not your typical ire, one powered by anger, no.

I wanted to see how low Hori would go, just how horrifically he would mangle a series that everyone had once praised.

I wanted to witness what wonders a jaded community would create, to show what they were capable of (to create and understand MHA in a manner Hori wishes he could even emulate a fraction of)

I wished to see your own expressions of love and hatred.

The thought of witnessing the breaking point, the dust settling to expose all the glaring flaws and infested wounds of MHA. It buzzed in my brain like electricity.

The idea that when all was said and done, you, the people would do what Hori couldn't/wouldn't and forge the bones and salvagble bits of MHA into a story worth remembering.

One where abusers are punished for their crimes instead of rewarded

Where victims can have a voice, feel and grow, carve their own paths and move forward from their trauma.

Where the implications of MHA's rotting and disingenuous society get explored instead of swept under the rug

Where people get a chance.

I waited eagerly for the day it would all fall apart.

So, do you know what I did when I logged onto the tag and saw your posts!?.

I laughed, the shrill giggle in the back of my throat quickly surging into an almost manic cackle. It was like lightning, vindicating and sobering all at once. My face was stretched to it's absolute limits with how wide my grin was. I could almost hear the shattering of MHA's last bit of integrity and I loved it.

The realization MHA's greatest threat was the author himself, It's one that I grasped long ago (as far back as the Dark Dekiru Arc) and I'm sure most of you understood this as well.

But to see that more of you are starting to get it, to realize there's no going back. That as the curtains draw near and the lights begin to dim, there is no other side here. Violence begets violence and Hori's gone past the event horizon.

It feels, hopeful. Perhaps we can build something worth saving.

It's been a wild ride so far and it's still ongoing. Hori's time is long over, it has been for a while now, so I suppose what I'm asking Is:

Now It's Your Turn, what's your play?

_______________________________________

Update:

IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!

[sunshine-theseus]

World Cup Loses and Transfers | Frido Rolfö x Reader

Words: 3.2k Summary: you get knocked out of the wc but you meet the woman of your dreams (I’m giving Kristie the playing time she deserved at the wc), please pretend frido never got injured Warnings: slightly suggestive. i think that's it. barely proof read. Requested by - @realsociadadferminofan

Being called up to the national team for the first time when you’re 27, right before the world cup, was unexpected and terrifying. I only knew Kristie, Lynn and Kelly from playing with them at Gotham, closest to the Mewis due to both growing up in Boston and playing with her sister Sam for a few years in North Carolina. It was a national team that was relatively skilled and fluid with one another, and I felt like an unnecessary part in a smoothly working machine.

“This has to be a, a joke, right? It’s four.” Kristie runs her hand down her face as she holds her phone in a deadly grip. I stare out the window, looking across the city, trying to ignore the way my gut drops when her phone rings before mine.

“Is Y/n there too? It might be easier to do you both at once.” I hear the accent from across the room and solemnly stand, dragging my feet across the floor, and sit on the couch beside Kristie, waving at our coach.

“I wanted to talk to you, and just let you both know, that you’re both selected to go to the world cup.” I choke on the words of thanks I was about to spew out and don’t even try to hold the tears back.

I turn toward Kristie, who has a similar expression, and I pull her into me.

“We did it.” I whisper in her ear and she rubs a hand up and down my back before we pull away.

“Thank you so much, I’m so excited.” Kristie gives her thanks and I repeat a similar message.

“You deserve this, you both bring something to the team on and off the field and it’s exactly what we need for the world cup.” We thank Vlatko once more and bid him goodbye, and I break down.

Kristie pulls me back into her and I cry, I can feel her tears drop on the top of my head but neither of us say anything for a moment. We hold each other and feel the relief and excitement of it all.

“You deserve this more than anyone Kristie. We’re going to go to the world cup and show people we are worth it.” I wipe away her tears and we both agree to separate and call our respective people.

~~~~~

The beginning of the tournament is nerve racking, but we beat Vietnam 3-0.

Then we play the Netherlands, and Vlatko doesn’t sub on a single person, and I begin to get nervous for our time at this tournament. We tie 1-1 and no one is happy. We have to at least tie with Portugal to get through to the knock-out rounds.

Lynn starts, I get subbed on at half time for Andi Sullivan, and Kristie gets subbed on in the 54th minute for Lindsey Horan. We’re still 0-0 in the last 3 minutes of the game, but Rose makes a pass to Kristie, who manages to slip the ball to me, and I make a powerful shot from just outside the penalty box. The goalkeeper’s hand grazes the ball as it spins, but it still hits the back of the net.

I scream as I make a run for Kristie, jumping into her arms as Rose and Lynn and whoever else hugs us.

The whistle blows to continue, but barely a minute later it blows again, indicating the end of the game.

I fall to my knees and weep, players patting my back as they pass. Emily is the one who lifts me off the ground and hugs me.

“You fucking did it.” I cling to her for a long time.

I’m surrounded as we celebrate, and I finally feel like I belong. Being hugged and congratulated by veterans of the team, singing kid’s jerseys and signs. People care about me.

~~~~~

Neither Kristie nor I start for the game against Sweden, which hurts considering how well we played the other day, but we keep our hopes up.

In similar fashion to the game against Portugal, I’m subbed on at half time, Kristie joining me.

“Go out and make a fucking difference! We’ve got this girls!” Lindsey yells as we run back out onto the field, ready to win this thing.

We take our positions, Alex kicking off. I follow the ball with my eyes as I make my way to mark my player, almost running into her as she heads toward me. Fridolina Rolfö is one of the best players in the world, with a versatility that isn’t seen all too often, and she’s standing right beside me. I also try to desperately ignore my raging crush on the tall Swedish player as the ball falls to my feet and I try to manoeuvre around her.

I kick the ball through her legs and take on down the field again, making a pass to Kristie. She passes to Alex who takes a shot, but Mušović catches it and falls to the ground with ease.

After the full 90’, neither team yet to concede a goal, we prepare for an extra 30 minutes, possibly even penalties. Vlatko gives us the order before the extra time begins, and I begin to get nervous again.

We fight as hard as we can for a goal, while simultaneously trying to keep Sweden away. By the time the final whistle blows to indicate the extra time is over, we’re still at a stagnant nil-nil. Penalties will be the decider. We line up, Andi stepping forward to take the first kick for us. It drifts into the goal with ease, and I hug Kristie to my side in short celebration.

Frido steps up next, taking her spot in front of Alyssa. I try not to think about how arguably good she looks as she takes a deep breath. She lets it go and runs, slotting the ball into the right corner.

1-1.

Kristie takes our 3rd. In a calm fashion I’ve witnessed from her many times before, she places the ball on the spot, closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, and kicks. It flies into the top left corner, and I don’t waste a second in running out of the line and picking her up, spinning her around.

3-2.

Both teams struggle to convert another goal for a few shots, but we eventually end up 4-4. Then it comes to me. It’s up to me to get us through.

I line up with the ball, glancing to the left side of the net in hopes of confusing the keeper. I take three steps back, run, and kick the ball. It flies forward toward the right side of the goal and the goalie jumpers to the left. The ball looks like it’s about to go in, when it makes contact with the post, diverting it away from the net. I try not to fall to the ground, instead silently crying as Kristie holds me at her side, watching Lina Hurtig line up.

The world moves in slow motion as she kicks the ball. Alyssa gets her hands on the ball, but it flies back in the air and toward the net. She makes a dive to stop it before it crosses the line, sweeping it away. Both teams begin to celebrate in a moment of confusion, us hoping for a second chance to get through, Sweden believing they’ve knocked us out.

We wait in anticipation as the ref checks with the VAR, and I fall into Kristie’s arms, pulling us both to the floor as she announces the ball crossed the line.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I whisper apologies in her ear as we both cry, watching Lina run to her team.

“It’s my fault.” I can’t lift my head to look anyone in the eyes. I failed this team.

“It’s not your fault, it was bad luck. You did everything you could.” She comforts through her own tears.

“You should go talk to Lynn and the others.” I say, pulling away. Kristie nods curtly, hugging me once more before standing up and leaving me to wallow by myself.

“Ursäkta mig?” (excuse me). I turn toward the person looming over me and come face to face with Fridolina Rolfö.

“You played very well today. I’m sorry for your loss. It’s not your fault.” She offers me a hand which I take nervously.

“T- thank you. But I should’ve been able to make that penalty. You played well too.” I stare at the ground, far too nervous about who I’m talking to, and disappointed in my performance.

“Would you like to swap jerseys?” my head whips up to look at the tall blonde.

“W- with me? Frido Rolfö wants to swap jerseys with me?” I stutter as she smiles down at me.

“If you don’t mind.” I waste not a second more in pulling my jersey off and handing it to her, Frido copying me. We pull them over our heads and some photographer takes a picture. I smile despite my puffy eyes and the tears that have yet to dry.

“You really should be proud of your performance today. Despite missing the penalty, you played the best you could. Maybe we’ll see you at Barca one day.” She pats me on the back and heads back to her team. I do the same.

~~~~~

A few weeks later I get a rather shocking email. The world cup ended about a week ago, Spain taking the trophy over England, and the NWSL was about to start back up. This email put a stop to my plans.

“Dear Y/n L/n,

Barcelona Femeni has deeply reviewed your performance at the world cup and at Gotham FC, and we wish to extend an invitation for you to transfer to Barcelona before the start of our 2023/24 season.

Please get back to us as soon as possible. We may be open for discussion on your salary.”

I try not to scream in excitement, hyperaware of the newly engaged couple sleeping in the room next to me, and decide to take a day to think about it and discuss the idea with Kristie and my family. I get up and begin to make breakfast for the three of us, a simple poached eggs on avocado toast, to keep me distracted.

Eventually Kristie and Sam emerge, and I present them with the idea.

“You have to take it.” Sam tells me deadpan.

“Well hold on a second. Maybe you should take a few days to think about it.” Kristie counters, and I begin to get nervous.

“Offers like these don’t just hang in the air Kristie. It’s the best move for her career.”

“What about her family? And the NWSL? We’re so close to the final.”

“What about what’s best f-”

“I’m doing it.” I interrupt what’s inevitably going to become a fight if I let it drag on.

“I’m moving to Barcelona. Sam’s right, these opportunities don’t just wait for me to be ready, and they rarely come more than once. My family will understand and so will the club. I hope. I have to do this Kristie.” The girl simply nods in understanding, and I smile at Sam before heading back to my room to reply.

~~~~~

A week and a half later I’m stepping out of a taxi and standing in awe in front of the Joan Gamper training grounds. I came in yesterday to put myself in their system and take the signing announcement photos but being here for training made it seem much more real.

I stand watching the likes of Aitana Bonmati and Keira Walsh walk past me and into the building when a hand lands on my shoulder. Once again, Frido Rolfö towers over me with a wide, welcoming grin that spreads across her face.

“They took my recommendation!”

“What do you mean?” I begin to walk alongside her.

“I strongly suggested that Jonatan watch your performances at the world cup and the NWSL after we versed each other. We need a strong midfielder like you who can also make goals. Very similar to Alexia.”

“Me? Like Alexia Putellas? You’re lying.” The Swede simply smiles again as she pushes open the door to the locker room.

“Hola!” a chorus of voices greet us as we enter. We’re clearly the last here.

-

It takes me a few days to start gelling with other players. These people were the best of the best and I had to prove I belong here, so I did just that.

-

“Mapi, Mapi! Here!” I yell to the centre back, pointing to where I want the ball. 5v5s could be hard but they made it seem easy.

It flies through the air and lands against my chest before falling to the ground. I seem to be in an impossible situation, but I spot a gap and hit the ball through, managing to run around Lucy and tap it into the goal past Sandra.

“VAMOOOS.” Mapi, Frido, Ona and Aitana run toward me.

“You’re so good.” Frido taps me on the head affectionately as she pulls me into her side in some sort of hug. I blush and roll my eyes when I make eye contact with Pina, who was very aware of my crush on the forward.

“Thank you Frido.”

There must have been something in the air because I continued to bang in goals all session.

I tap the ball back behind me to navigate around Alexia and chip it over Sandra, right into the goal.

I make a shot from the boarder of the penalty box, and it lands in the top right corner.

Aitana shoots the ball into the air and before I can think, I’m jumping and throwing my leg in the air behind me. It connects with the ball, and I turn my head to watch if it goals in as I fall to the ground. The net ripples behind Sandra and I’m at the bottom of the dogpile before I can say anything.

“You just flawlessly executed a bicycle kick what the fuck?!”

“How’d you do that?”

“Can you do that again?” a new question is presented before I can answer the previous and I just laugh. Eventually everyone gets off and heads to lunch, but Frido helps me up.

“You’re performing goals like that but you’re not a striker? Why?”

“It just feels right. I’ve always been told I’m best midfield even though getting goals has always been something I loved doing.” She hums and takes my hand as we follow the others.

~~~~~

“We’re playing truth or dare! No complaints!” Claudia shouts over the groans spewing from everyone’s mouths.

“It’s the ultimate team bonding experience. Come on.”

“I’ll go first!” Ona volunteers and we all wait to see who she picks.

“Mapi. I dare you to knock on your neighbours door, accusing them on stealing Bagheera.”

“But Señorita Ruiz is so nice, and old.” Despite the complaint, Mapi gets up and walks out of her apartment, Ona following her, and knocks on Ms Ruiz’s door.

“María Pilar! How dare you accuse me of stealing Bagheera! I look after him every time you go away and take good care of him! I would never do such a thing.” The sounds of what one could only assume to be a handbag hitting Mapi, echo down the hall.

“Lo siento, lo siento Señorita! Por favor my friend made me I’m sorry!” the subject of the quabble meows and struts out of the apartment and toward Señorita Ruiz’s.

“Never accuse me of such things again or no more buñuelos.” Eventually the two come back, Mapi red faced with Bagheera in her arms, and Ona giggling in joy.

“My turn I suppose.” Mapi seethes jokingly.

“Y/n. I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with Frido.” I stop, but Frido is already standing, and I can’t say no.

“Let’s do this.” I whisper, apparently loud enough for everyone to hear, as they cheer and laugh.

I follow Frido to Mapi and Ingrid’s bedroom and close the door behind me. As soon as I do, I’m pushed up against the wood. My breathing stops and I flush red, trying not to look at her lips.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now. Otherwise, I’m going to kiss you because I’ve wanted to since I first saw you.”

“I want you to kiss me so bad.” She surges forward, pressing her lips against mine, and I grasp at the loose fabric of her shirt to pull her closer.

I don’t even try to talk as we continue to make out against the door. I try not to think about how hot she looks with dishevelled hair and ruffled clothes, my lip-gloss smudged against her own lips, otherwise we won’t be leaving this room.

Then comes an aggressive bang from the other side, Mapi yelling time is up.

“This isn’t over.” She whispers in my ear as she reaches around me to open the door and walks out. I stand still in awe as I watch her walk away, and Mapi has to usher me back to the circle where I sit next to Frido.

~~~~~

I went home with her that night and woke up the next morning buried beneath satin sheets with an arm around my waist, skin on skin. Despite the deep want inside of me to freak out, I take a breath and take in the world around me. The sun streams through the window and lands perfectly on the face of the woman beside me, making her skin light up and her hair seem like liquid gold.

I spot the pile of our clothes on the floor and giggle at the memory of how hard they were to take off last night in our rushed kisses. But then I remember how the rush slowed down. There was no other word to describe it except love.

Frido’s eyes slowly open and she grins at me, leaning forward and pressing soft kisses to my shoulder and neck. I sit up urgently and reach a hand toward the spot she just kissed, then stand and head toward the bathroom linked to her room. There on the side of my neck, is a row of small, dark purple hickies. Frido follows me in and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder, and continues to kiss every inch of skin she could reach.

“I have no way to cover these up before training.” I groan and throw my head back.

“Good.” She shrugs before kissing me on the lips, and then goes back to her room.

“You did it on purpose!” I whine.

“I will never admit that. Now join me.” She pulls me into the shower before I can protest.

Let’s just say we were nearly late to training. And I had to borrow her spare kit. And everyone most certainly knew what happened.

Ingrid was the first to point it out, poking a finger into the bruises on my neck and pointing them out to Mapi. I swat them away but it only brings more attention to us. Alexia is the next one over and she gracefully points out the 16 that replaces my usual 3. I look over to Frido for help but she just laughs.

“You know what? At least I’ve got a girlfriend. More than some of you can say.” I laugh along with some of them but Frido seems shocked. I tilt my head to the side in confusion, running my sentence through my head.

My smile drops but she leans over and kisses me.

“Yeah at least she has a girlfriend.”

[theambitiouswoman]

Turning Rejection into Your Superpower 👑✨

We all know that dealing with rejection can be tough. Whether you've been turned down for a job, a date, or a project, rejection can hurt and mess with your confidence. But what if I told you that rejection could be your superpower? By learning how to deal with rejection effectively, you can use it as a catalyst for personal growth and success.

Bounce Back Stronger:

The first step in turning rejection into your superpower is to embrace resilience. Understand that rejection is not a reflection of your worth as a person. Everyone faces rejection at some point in their lives. What sets you apart is how you bounce back from it. Develop a mindset that sees rejection as a chance to learn and grow. Each rejection is a stepping stone on your path to success.

Analyze and Learn:

When you face rejection, take some time to analyze the situation. Ask yourself what went wrong and what you can learn from the experience. Did you lack certain skills or qualifications? Were there specific areas where you could have improved? By analyzing and learning from your rejections, you can make better decisions moving forward.

Boost Your Confidence:

Rejection can knock your confidence down a few notches. But self confidence is your secret weapon. Remind yourself of your achievements and what makes you awesome. Create a list of your achievements, skills, and qualities that make you unique. The more you believe in yourself, the easier it is to handle rejection.

Set Realistic Goals:

Dream big, but also set goals that are doable. Breaking your ambitions into smaller, achievable steps is like navigating with a map instead of wandering around aimlessly. This approach not only makes your goals more manageable but also increases your chances of success, reducing the likelihood of rejection.

Ask for Feedback:

Don't be afraid to ask for feedback when facing rejection. Constructive criticism is gold. Reach out to those who said no and politely inquire why. Use their feedback as a guide to refine your skills and approach.

Network, Network, Network:

Your network is your net worth. Connect with people who share your interests and dreams. Attend events, join groups, and use social media to build your circle. Networking can open doors you never knew existed.

Be Persistent:

Persistence is your superpower's sidekick. Success takes time, and rejection is just part of the journey. Many well known people faced plenty rejections before achieving their goal. Don't give up. Keep working towards your dreams, and let rejection fuel your determination.

Growth Mindset:

Adopt a growth mindset. Believe that you can develop your skills and intelligence through effort and practice. When you see rejection as a temporary setback instead of a roadblock. It becomes just a bump in the road to your dreams and you'll become more resilient when faced with rejection moving forward.

Rejection is part of the game. How you handle it is what matters. Embrace it, learn from it, and use it as fuel to propel you toward your goals. Success often comes after a series of rejections, but with the right mindset, you'll turn each "no" into a stepping stone to your goals.

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do I portray two people falling in love slowly when neither of them really understands love or has ever truly been in love/loved by anyone? Like, they're both slowly learning what love is and how to love with each other.

Learning What Love Is via Falling in Love

Every person and situation is different, and it also depends on what kind of love we're talking about here. If you just mean that they haven't experienced romantic love, that's a different situation than someone who also didn't grow up in a loving household.

Didn't Grow Up in a Loving Household - Sadly, some people reach adulthood without having experienced consistent and unconditional love from the people who raised them. This can lead to a constant fear of abandonment in adult relationships (including friendships, work partnerships, familial relationships, and romantic relationships), which can result in putting up emotional barriers ("putting up walls") to avoid being vulnerable and giving someone the opportunity to hurt them by giving love and then taking it away. It can also lead the person to pursue unloving /unrewarding relationships, intentionally or not. So, a person in this situation has truly not experienced love, or if someone did genuinely love them, they wouldn't have believed it.

What's important to remember about someone like this is there's a difference between never having experienced love--or not believing it was real when it was being experienced--and not knowing or understanding what real love is. Unless your character lives under a rock, odds are they have been exposed to healthy loving relationships of all kinds over the years. They have associated with people (be they friends, family, neighbors, co-workers, or characters in media) who love and are loved by others... they've spent time with married friends who truly love each other, they've witnessed their neighbors' love for their children, they've read books or watched movies with romantic plots or subplots... So they can recognize love, they just fear that they are undeserving of love themselves (because it was never given to them consistently and/or without conditions) or they're too afraid to trust that love is real.

Some things to consider when portraying this situation:

1 - Awareness of childhood emotional wounds/impact on relationships matters. Many people tend to be aware of their childhood emotional wounds and have some understanding of how they impact their relationships, even if they feel somewhat helpless to change things. Many people seek to heel from these emotional wounds either on their own or via therapy, and that would certainly impact how a person moves through a healthy romantic relationship.

2 - What's different in this case? You'll need to figure out (and portray) what makes this relationship different. A good bet is that these characters feel a kinship due to sharing similar emotional wounds from childhood and having had similar impacts. That doesn't necessarily mean they won't still build walls, be free from fears of abandonment, or will believe the love is real right off the bat, but that recognized kinship creates a bit of traction for the healthy relationship to build and also creates a bit of a mutual safety net... "they won't hurt me because they don't want to be hurt by me."

3 - The subtle signs of love will be the same but probably more reserved, hesitant, and slower. This will be a real "slow burn," and there will probably be some setbacks relating specifically to fears of abandonment and issues of self-worth and trust. The Subtle Signs of Romantic Interest and Love Guide: Writing a Slow Burn Romance Guide: Characters Falling in Love Guide: Creating Romantic Chemistry

Grew Up in a Loving Household But Hasn't Experienced Real Romantic Love - Even when people do grow up consistently and unconditionally loved by those who raised them, people can still get off on the wrong foot with romantic relationships. This can especially be the case when a first romantic relationship isn't loving, because it can lead someone to be in a string of loveless relationships. In this case, the emotional trauma will probably be more subtle... they may not even be aware of it unless a wise family member, friend, or therapist has pointed it out to them. The person won't feel unlovable, they'll feel like they're just not worthy of romantic love. They also probably won't have the same trust and abandonment issues, but rather a disbelief that any show of romantic love must be insincere--like the person must have ulterior motives or something.

In this case, too, it's not that they don't know what romantic love is or looks like. It's not that they don't understand it. It's just that they don't feel like they're deserving of it because no one has ever given it to them before (even if someone did and they simply didn't believe it was real). So the obstacle here will be for the character/s to learn to trust one another, and again--if they have that kinship of having emotional wounds related to love (you could even have one character have an unloved childhood and one character never in a loving romance if you wanted) is still what gives it traction. The links above still apply, again you're just doing things a little slower and navigating the obstacles related to the resulting issues.

I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Podcasting "Microincentives and Enshittification"

Tomorrow (Oct 25) at 10hPT/18hUK, I'm livestreaming an event called "Seizing the Means of Computation" for the Edinburgh Futures Institute.

This week on my podcast, I read my recent Medium column, "Microincentives and Enshittification," about the way that monopoly drives mediocrity, with Google's declining quality as Exhibit A:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

It's not your imagination: Google used to be better – in every way. Search used to be better, sure, but Google used to be better as a company. It treated its workers better (for example, not laying off 12,000 workers months after a stock buyback that would have paid their salaries for the next 27 years). It had its users' backs in policy fights – standing up for Net Neutrality and the right to use encryption to keep your private data private. Even when the company made ghastly mistakes, it repented of them and reversed them, like the time it pulled out of China after it learned that Chinese state hackers had broken into Gmail in order to discover which dissidents to round up and imprison.

None of this is to say that Google used to be perfect, or even, most of the time, good. Just that things got worse. To understand why, we have to think about how decisions get made in large organizations, or, more to the point, how arguments get resolved in these organizations.

We give Google a lot of shit for its "Don't Be Evil" motto, but it's worth thinking through what that meant for the organization's outcomes over the years. Through most of Google's history, the tech labor market was incredibly tight, and skilled engineers and other technical people had a lot of choice as to where they worked. "Don't Be Evil" motivated some – many – of those workers to take a job at Google, rather than one of its rivals.

Within Google, that meant that decisions that could colorably be accused of being "evil" would face some internal pushback. Imagine a product design meeting where one faction proposes something that is bad for users, but good for the company's bottom line. Think of another faction that says, "But if we do that, we'll be 'evil.'"

I think it's safe to assume that in any high-stakes version of this argument, the profit side will prevail over the don't be evil side. Money talks and bullshit walks. But what if there were also monetary costs to being evil? Like, what if Google has to worry about users or business customers defecting to a rival? Or what if there's a credible reason to worry that a regulator will fine Google, or Congress will slap around some executives at a televised hearing?

That lets the no-evil side field a more robust counterargument: "Doing that would be evil, and we'll lose money, or face a whopping fine, or suffer reputational harms." Even if these downsides are potentially smaller than the upsides, they still help the no-evil side win the argument. That's doubly true if the downsides could depress the company's share-price, because Googlers themselves are disproportionately likely to hold Google stock, since tech companies are able to get a discount on their wage-bills by paying employees in abundant stock they print for free, rather than the scarce dollars that only come through hard graft.

When the share-price is on the line, the counterargument goes, "That would be evil, we will lose money, and you will personally be much poorer as a result." Again, this isn't dispositive – it won't win every argument – but it is influential. A counterargument that braids together ideology, institutional imperatives, and personal material consequences is pretty robust.

Which is where monopoly comes in. When companies grow to dominate their industries, they are less subject to all forms of discipline. Monopolists don't have to worry about losing disgusted employees, because they exert so much gravity on the labor market that they find it easy to replace them.

They don't have to worry about losing customers, because they have eliminated credible alternatives. They don't have to worry about losing users, because rivals steer clear of their core business out of fear of being bigfooted through exclusive distribution deals, predatory pricing, etc. Investors have a name for the parts of the industry dominated by Big Tech: they call it "the kill zone" and they won't back companies seeking to enter it.

When companies dominate their industries, they find it easier to capture their regulators and outspend public prosecutors who hope to hold them to account. When they lose regulatory fights, they can fund endless appeals. If they lose those appeals, they can still afford the fines, especially if they can use an army of lawyers to make sure that the fine is less than the profit realized through the bad conduct. A fine is a price.

In other words, the more dominant a company is, the harder it is for the good people within the company to win arguments about unethical and harmful proposals, and the worse the company gets. The internal culture of the company changes, and its products and services decline, but meaningful alternatives remain scarce or nonexistent.

Back to Google. Google owns more than 90% of the search market. Google can't grow by adding more Search users. The 10% of non-Google searchers are extremely familiar with Google's actions. To switch to a rival search engine, they have had to take many affirmative, technically complex steps to override the defaults in their devices and tools. It's not like an ad extolling the virtues of Google Search will bring in new customers.

Having saturated the search market, Google can only increase its Search revenues by shifting value from searchers or web publishers to itself – that is, the only path to Search growth is enshittification. They have to make things worse for end users or business customers in order to make things better for themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

This means that each executive in the Search division is forever seeking out ways to shift value to Google and away from searchers and/or publishers. When they propose a enshittificatory tactic, Google's market dominance makes it easy for them to win arguments with their teammates: "this may make you feel ashamed for making our product worse, but it will not make me poorer, it will not make the company poorer, and it won't chase off business customers or end users, therefore, we're gonna do it. Fuck your feelings."

After all, each microenshittification represents only a single Jenga block removed from the gigantic tower that is Google Search. No big deal. Some Google exec made the call to make it easier for merchants to buy space overtop searches for their rivals. That's not necessarily a bad thing: "Thinking of taking a vacation in Florida? Why not try Puerto Rico – it's a US-based Caribbean vacation without the transphobia and racism!"

But this kind of advertising also opens up lots of avenues for fraud. Scammers clone local restaurants' websites, jack up their prices by 15%, take your order, and transmit it to the real restaurant, pocketing the 15%. They get clicks by using some of that rake to buy an ad based on searches for the restaurant's name, so they show up overtop of it and rip off inattentive users:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

This is something Google could head off; they already verify local merchants by mailing them postcards with unique passwords that they key into a web-form. They could ban ads for websites that clone existing known merchants, but that would incur costs (engineer time) and reduce profits, both from scammers and from legit websites that trip a false positive.

The decision to sell this kind of ad, configured this way, is a direct shift of value from business customers (restaurants) and end-users (searchers) to Google. Not only that, but it's negative sum. The money Google gets from this tradeoff is less than the cost to both the restaurant (loss of goodwill from regulars who are affronted because of a sudden price rise) and searchers (who lose 15% on their dinner orders). This trade-off makes everyone except Google worse off, and it's only possible when Google is the only game in town.

It's also small potatoes. Last summer, scammers figured out how to switch out the toll-free numbers that Google displayed for every airline, redirecting people to boiler-rooms where con-artists collected their credit-card numbers and sensitive personal information (passports, etc):

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/phone-numbers-airlines-listed-google-directed-scammers-rcna94766

Here again, we see a series of small compromises that lead to a massive harm. Google decided to show users 800 numbers rather than links to the airlines' websites, but failed to fortify the process for assigning phone numbers to prevent this absolutely foreseeable type of fraud. It's not that Google wanted to enable fraud – it's that they created the conditions for the fraud to occur and failed to devote the resources necessary to defend against it.

Each of these compromises indicates a belief among Google decision-makers that the consequences for making their product worse will be outweighed by the value the company will generate by exposing us to harm. One reason for this belief is on display in the DOJ's antitrust case against Google:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/press-release/file/1328941/download

The case accuses Google of spending tens of billions of dollars to buy out the default search position on every platform where an internet user might conceivably perform a search. The company is lighting multiple Twitters worth of dollars on fire to keep you from ever trying another search engine.

Spraying all those dollars around doesn't just keep you from discovering a better search engine – it also prevents investors from funding that search engine in the first place. Why fund a startup in the kill-zone if no one will ever discover that it exists?

https://www.theverge.com/23802382/search-engine-google-neeva-android

Of course, Google doesn't have to grow Search to grow its revenue. Hypothetically, Google could pursue new lines of business and grow that way. This is a tried-and-true strategy for tech giants: Apple figured out how to outsource its manufacturing to the Pacific Rim; Amazon created a cloud service, Microsoft figured out how to transform itself into a cloud business.

Look hard at these success stories and you discover another reason that Google – and other large companies – struggle to grow by moving into adjacent lines of business. In each case – Apple, Microsoft, Amazon – the exec who led the charge into the new line of business became the company's next CEO.

In other words: if you are an exec at a large firm and one of your rivals successfully expands the business into a new line, they become the CEO – and you don't. That ripples out within the whole org-chart: every VP who becomes an SVP, every SVP who becomes an EVP, and every EVP who becomes a president occupies a scarce spot that it worth millions of dollars to the people who lost it.

The one thing that execs reliably collaborate on is knifing their ambitious rivals in the back. They may not agree on much, but they all agree that that guy shouldn't be in charge of this lucrative new line of business.

This "curse of bigness" is why major shifts in big companies are often attended by the return of the founder – think of Gates going back to Microsoft or Brin returning to Google to oversee their AI projects. They are the only execs that other execs can't knife in the back.

This is the real "innovator's dilemma." The internal politics of large companies make Machiavelli look like an optimist.

When your company attains a certain scale, any exec's most important rival isn't the company's competitor – it's other execs at the same company. Their success is your failure, and vice-versa.

This makes the business of removing Jenga blocks from products like Search even more fraught. These quality-degrading, profit-goosing tactics aren't coordinated among the business's princelings. When you're eating your seed-corn, you do so in private. This secrecy means that it's hard for different product-degradation strategists to realize that they are removing safeguards that someone else is relying on, or that they're adding stress to a safety measure that someone else just doubled the load on.

It's not just Google, either. All of tech is undergoing a Great Enshittening, and that's due to how intertwined all these tech companies. Think of how Google shifts value from app makers to itself, with a 30% rake on every dollar spent in an app. Google is half of the mobile duopoly, with the other half owned by Apple. But they're not competitors – they're co-managers of a cartel. The single largest deal that Google or Apple does every year is the bribe Google pays Apple to be the default search for iOS and Safari – $15-20b, every year.

If Apple and Google were mobile competitors, you'd expect them to differentiate their products, but instead, they've converged – both Apple and Google charge sky-high 30% payment processing fees to app makers.

Same goes for Google/Facebook, the adtech duopoly: not only do both companies charge advertisers and publishers sky-high commissions, clawing 51 cents out of every ad dollar, but they also illegally colluded to rig the market and pay themselves more, at advertisers' and publishers' expense:

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

It's not just tech, either – every sector from athletic shoes to international sea-freight is concentrated into anti-competitive, value-annihilating cartels and monopolies:

https://www.openmarketsinstitute.org/learn/monopoly-by-the-numbers

As our friends on the right are forever reminding us: "incentives matter." When a company runs out of lands to conquer, the incentives all run one direction: downhill, into a pit of enshittification. Google got worse, not because the people in it are worse (or better) than they were before – but because the constraints that discipline the company and contain its worst impulses got weaker as the company got bigger.

Here's the podcast episode:

https://craphound.com/news/2023/10/23/microincentives-and-enshittification/

And here's a direct link to the MP3 (hosting courtesy of the Internet Archive; they'll host your stuff for free, forever):

https://archive.org/download/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_452/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_452_-_Microincentives_and_Enshittification.mp3

And here's my podcast's RSS feed:

http://feeds.feedburner.com/doctorow_podcast

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

[wooahaes]

party of two

pairing: non-idol!joshua x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship. silly fic <3

warnings: food mentions. reader having a lonely childhood/teenage years. mentions of reader being in therapy pre-fic. joshua hong being a silly, silly man. hints at suggestive stuff post-fic, but it's left vague. slow dancing to jopping <3

word count: ~1.1k

daisy's notes: ya think ya big boi throwing three stacks imma show you how to ball you a mismatch opinionated but im always spittin straight facts

The last thing you expected to come home to were streamers, balloons, and everything you’d need for someone’s birthday party.

Immediately, panic set in first. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the apartment (and, truly, unless they were hiding in the bedroom or the bathroom, you would know), and Joshua had never gone behind your back to do something you asked him not to do before… But the decorations point to the party you asked him not to throw. Last year had been nice enough, sure, but you just wanted a quiet day with your boyfriend. Would it be worth it to step out and call him, just to clarify? 

Joshua walked past the entryway, stopping when he saw you were standing here. “Oh. Shit, you’re home early.” 

Forcing a smile, you just stepped over to slip out of your shoes and into your house slippers. “Mmhm. I was supposed to leave sooner, actually, but an emergency came up.” 

Joshua immediately set down the folded banner, snagging a party hat as he made his way over to you. “Well,” he said, stretching the string so that he could carefully put the hat on you. “We can party early, then.”

“Party?” You gave him a suspicious look.

“Party of two,” he booped your nose. “You said you didn’t have a lot of parties as a kid, so… When you told me to plan something fun, I thought we could do something silly.” 

Something about that made your heart swell in your chest. You’d told Joshua that you’d been a lonely kid (and teenager), rarely invited to parties and almost never having your own. It had messed with you growing up, sure, but you’d managed. Even though it felt silly to admit you’d gone to therapy over it, Joshua hadn’t judged you. He’d listened to your tales of attachment issues and other struggles carefully, nodding along and admiring your growth as a person. It hadn’t been easy, and it netted you some struggles with having healthy relationships in college, but you came out the other side with a new circle of friends who cared for you as much as you cared for them, and a healthy relationship with Joshua built on trust and communication. Still, it was nice to have him there to listen when you just needed to rant about how bullshit your youth had been. A week or so ago, it had been the realization that one of your birthday parties as a kid had been shared with a friend… who was probably the only reason people came.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Joshua had said after you finished your rant. “You were a kid. You said people liked you enough even if you weren’t invited to stuff.”

It was nice to have someone there who could ground you when you were getting too upset over things. Even now, as he stood before you with a stupid party hat sitting lopsided on his head, he’d taken your hand in his own. His thumb ran over your knuckles, watching as you looked past him to get a better view of the decorated living room. It’s all gold and shades of pink, and he just grinned at you.

“It’s all the store had today,”  he admitted. “I meant to go sooner, y’know, but… Kinda had some other things I needed to get in order.” 

Joshua took your other hand, swinging them as you finally melted a little and smiled at him. A party for the just two of you was particularly cheesy, but if it was with Joshua, you’d be happy to attend. “So…” You stepped forward. “What are we gonna do at this party?”

His gaze flickered down to your lips for just a moment. Yet the moment you leaned in, he reached up to press his fingers against them, stopping you in your tracks. “Keep it PG,” he teased with a mischievous grin you wanted to kiss off of him. “PG-13, if you have to.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. But instead of pulling away immediately, he leaned in, breath hot against your ear, “we can do more later, if you want.” 

No promises made, though: you’d have to see how you were feeling then. But you did take the chance to press a quick peck against his cheek before he could move away. Joshua guided you into the apartment, already rattling off about all of the plans he’d made. He’d ordered a tiny cake for the two of you to share, bought your favorite flavor of ice cream, bought pizza to really hammer home the idea of this being a casual party (not that you minded: the two of you cooked for each other often enough, getting takeout was a welcome break). He made no promises of party games or a plethora of gifts for you to unwrap… But he did pull out his phone, connected to the bluetooth speaker and turned up music—loud enough for the two of you, but not enough to bother the neighbors now. 

“Well?” He extended his hands to you again. “Do you wanna dance?”

Joshua Hong knew you couldn’t dance for shit. It was one of the things he pointed out to you when you were half-asleep one night and he drunkenly needed to tell you the little things he loved most about you. He said you were as graceful as a baby deer, but he loved it when you felt safe enough to be silly around him.

So you just accepted his hands. “I’d love to.” 

He just smiled at you before pulling you in, chest to chest, as he began to sway with you to music that was far from swayable. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You snorted in response. “Yeah… I wouldn’t,” you reached up, draping your arms around his neck. The sounds of Taeyong’s rap in the background nearly made you laugh. “But I like holding you.” 

“Ulterior motives,” he hummed. “By the way… I was thinking… For our wedding song—”

“Joshua.” The two of you weren’t even engaged yet, but you already knew what he was thinking.

He gasped in mock offense. “Are you telling me you don’t want to walk down the aisle to Mark’s rap in this song?”

It earned a real, warm laugh from you, and the look of pride on Joshua’s face told you that his job was done. He’d let you go soon and dance with you properly… But for now, he’d continue to sway with you, chatting about your day as he admired you a little longer.

taglist: @twancingyunhao@wonuziex@synthetickitsune@porridgesblog@staranghae @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[rafesapologist]

bigger than the whole sky — rafe cameron

summary: rafe cameron was your first and last love. the two of you met at the very beginning of your high school days, and said your first 'i love you's by the time you were merely sixteen. your relationship was electric and wild, a place were you could finally let your guard down. as you two grew older and entered your college years, you quickly became a safety net for rafe against a harrowing father and a broken family. you vowed to be the one who was a safe space for the boy you loved to be able to run to, but he carried demons even you couldn't erase.

warnings: grief, angst, swearing, death, mentions of drug and alcohol use, depictions of mental health issues

author's note: y'all i'm so sorry for this one i just love writing angsty stuff pls forgive me in advanced

"I love you." Rafe hummed a gentle melody of benevolent words into your ear as he observed you carefully through his empyrean-crafted sapphires that you always found yourself getting lost in, ones that were specific to him only, which only made you love them more.

"I love you too, Rafe. Always." A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, a behavior that you couldn't help yourself from doing caused by the giddy feeling that was making your heart swell by being in the presence of your high school sweetheart who you swore you were going to grow old with.

You peered up at him with your chin rested on his chest, unable to contain the jouissance that was so clearly written across your features. You felt like right then, you could picture an entire life within his cerulean irises that bored right back into yours. You slipped into a daydream as you wandered the thoughts that crowded your mind about the everlasting potential of where you and Rafe were going to end up. You envisioned being in your thirties and coming home to the place you and him would buy together, perhaps a small cottage somewhere off the islands in a small town, or even a capacious apartment in a big city where the people never sleep. You'd be greeted at the front door with a bouqet of morning glories that were set out for you at the kitchen table, your favorite flowers that Rafe took mental note of since you told him when you were fifteen one day while passing a greenhouse on the way to school. Once he'd finally realized you were home, he'd welcome you with open arms and an embrace that watered down the agglomeration of stress that burned in the pit of your stomach after an insufferably long day at the job you strived so hard to get. He'd shower you with kisses across your face that made the agony of a rigorous work day much worth the tribulations you endured.

Perhaps you'd stand there for a moment, basking in the way his body heat warmed you up like a heated blanket that you didn't want to take off. He'd rub your back and allow you to take a moment to yourself, the first you'd be able to have all day. You would stand there for a moment, soaking up the joy of finally getting to see him, and you'd tell yourself that you never wanted to go to work again because it only took time away from seeing his handsome face. In the midst of you caught up in cloud nine in his arms, you'd also be greeted by the fluffy feline the two of you adopted together when you found out you were finally getting your own place, just you two. Nobody else.

"What are you thinking about, pretty girl?" Rafe asked in a whisper, gazing at you with admiration laced in his eyes. He scanned your face while he looked to read your expression, slowly combing his fingers through your hair with a gentle pace, fearing that he would hurt you and tug at your scalp if he went any faster. Like you were made of glass that he would break if he didn't hold you with ease.

"You and me." You murmur with the same gushing expression painted on your face, your cheeks flushed with heat.

"What about us?" He questioned again, tilting his head with curiosity.

"Our future," you admitted, snuggling into his side further, "I can't wait to spend my life with you, Rafe. You're the only one I could ever see myself growing old with, and the only one I'd want to do that with."

Rafe's rosy-pink lips curved until a faint, simper smile. His eyes remained trained onto you as they flickered between your left and right eye, taking in every detail of the way your eyes glimmered while you looked at him.

"It'll always be me and you, y/n. You're the only pure, healthy love I've ever had in my entire life. I'd be a sad empty man without you." He masked his vulnerability with a light-heated joke, although you knew there was truth to what he was saying.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Cameron." You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"I surely hope not, future Mrs. Cameron."

｡･ﾟﾟ･

There was a tropical storm that had blanketed Figure Eight when you got the phone call the your boyfriend was passed out and unresponsive at some party he had attended with Kelce and Topper. It was a jarring phone call to have been woken up to, with Topper's shaky voice and screaming heard in the background, a moment in time that will forever be ingrained into your head.

You rushed over as soon as the call had ended. You took off so quickly that you left your house with nothing on but an oversized t-shirt and some pajama shorts that had seen better days. You couldn't care less about your appearance or the fact that you had to drive through one of the worst storms you had seen since you moved to the Outer Banks, because quite honestly, the weather was fitting for a scene like that.

Once you had arrived you didn't even take the time to take the keys out of the ignition before racing out of the car and into the crowded house, full of intoxicated teens who formed a circle around your unconcious boyfriend who laid across the living room floor of whoever's house it was. You felt like screaming, collapsing, and throwing up all at once when you had finally pushed yourself through the nosy crowd of bystanders who watched in shock.

"Topper, Topper," you called out in a shaky cry to your boyfriend's best friend, "what happened? What did he do?"

"I don't know I-"

"I said what the fuck did he do, Topper?!" You yelled in a sudden outburst as the severity of the situation began to settle and brought you back into reality while you held Rafe's in your arms, rocking back and forth in an attempt to wake him. But it did no good.

"I saw him snorting a line of coke with a group of guys earlier, and I'm pretty sure I've seen him with a drink in his hand all night." A random bystander suddenly chimed in, causing you to snap your head in the direction of where the voice was coming from. You had locked eyes on an unfamiliar blonde girl who looked back at you with horror written on her face, discomfort present in her body language.

"No," you squeezed your eyes shut as tears began to flow from them relentlessly, shaking your head as though you refused to believe he would do such a thing knowing how much it would hurt you, "no he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't do this to me."

"The ambulance is on the way." Kelce announced as he point to the phone pressed to his ear.

You couldn't regulate a single emotion in your body at that point. You felt as though you had lost touch with yourself and whatever the hell was going on around you, as you grew tunnel vision on Rafe's motionless body that laid heavy in your lap. You weeped to the point that you felt your throat tighten, almost as if you couldn't breathe, suffocated by the absence of hope that the boy you loved was going to wake up. You could have sworn that a few blood vessels popped in your eyes from the way that you cried out with an indescribable passion and fury. Fury for the selfishness Rafe had in himself to be able to behave so recklessly, despite knowing you were back at home trusting that he would do the right thing and stay safe. But his desires and addiction were two things that ruthlessly clouded his judgment and steered him down a dark path. One that you always feared would take the best of him from you and rip him away.

However, you got lucky that night. The ambulance had come just in time to be able to resuscitate him successfully, and you thanked the heavens above for the blessing that he actually got another chance to live. But you were sure as hell not going to let him down easy this time, fearing that there would be no more 'close calls' or being lucky if it were to happen again. Therefore, you pushed him into going to rehab for once. It took a lot of begging and pleading, but after seeing the manner in which you broke down so intensely when discussion how his addiction effected both you and him, he eventually obliged to your request.

｡･ﾟﾟ･

After three months of treatment, Rafe was finally discharged from the rehab facility. You had visited him nearly everyday while he was there, but seeing him outside of there was completely different. The moment you saw him for the first time since he left, you ran to him and greeted him with the tightest hug he had ever felt in his life. Your emotions got the best of you, as they normally did when it came to Rafe, and you had sobbed into his chest as he held you for the first time since going to rehab.

"Please don't ever do that to me again, Rafe. I would have lost my mind without you." You let out a muffled cry into his shirt as you clutched onto him as if he was going to dissapear if you let go.

"I won't princess, I promise. I'd never leave you. I'm so sorry." Rafe cooed as he kissed the top of your forehead, clenching his eyelids shut as tears began to flood his azure-colored eyes. The same ones you missed waking up to every morning over the last three months while he was gone.

"Lets get you home. I don't want to see this place for another minute." You muttered as you backed away from him to wipe your tears away with the sleeve of your shirt.

"Of course, baby."

｡･ﾟﾟ･

Things were looking up for the two of you once Rafe completed his rehab program. It seemed as though he was back to the boy you had met when you were in high school, happy and full of life. You spent everyday thanking the universe for keeping him around and giving him the strength to make it through such a scare. For the first time since you were eighteen, you were finally hopefully for Rafe's sobriety and maintaining it. You knew it wasn't easy for him, of course, but you believed in him.

"I wanna talk to you about something." Rafe voiced as he sat next to you while you ate your usual bowl of cereal for breakfast.

"Okay.. Talk to me." You replied a tad mumbled, trying to talk with a handful of cereal stuffed in your mouth which made Rafe chuckle in return.

"You remember when we used to talk about getting our own place together someday?"

"Yeah? Why?" You questioned, cocking your eyebrow at him.

"Well, I've been putting aside some money over the last few months since I got this job, and I've been waiting until I had enough to do it to tell you. But, as long as you're ready and want to still, I'm ready for us to find a place." Rafe declared with a beaming grin growing on his face.

You responded with a shriek as you threw down your cereal bowl onto the table, immediately leaning forward to hug Rafe in excitement for the good news. You might've kissed him a hundred times before you actually said a word because of how much joy you felt knowing that you were finally getting the chance to have a place of your own with the boy you've loved since you were sixteen. A dream of yours that you've been dying to fufill.

"Oh my gosh, Rafe! I can't believe this. I can't wait. I love you." You smiled wide, giggling as you pulled him in for a hug once more.

"I love you, y/n. I can't wait to start our lives together. This is just the beginning."

｡･ﾟﾟ･

It was 1:48 am.

You were sound asleep in the bedroom that you shared with Rafe in the apartment you had together bought six months prior. It was a peaceful, clear night with not a cloud in the sky. It was almost haunting how quiet it was.

You laid in bed curled up with the cat Rafe had got for you shortly after you moved in. He was a long-haired, brown feline that you decided to name Bear. Immediately after getting him, you practically treated him as though he was your own child. Yours and Rafe's. Just like that night, and many others, he would often sleep curled up next to you and send you to sleep with the sounds of his loud purrs and occasional snoring.

There was nothing abnormal about that night. No warning to the devastation that was to be ahead. You were unsuspecting and unaware that there was even any potential threat that would disrupt your nearly-perfect life that you had grown accustomed to with Rafe. Although sometimes, you wish there had been something that would have warned you of the doom that was impending.

When you had went to bed, you had just got off the phone with Rafe. He had went out with a few of his close friends for one of their birthdays, promising to return before you woke up. You saw nothing to worry about. It had been over a year since Rafe's overdose and you had complete faith in him, a regained trust that you had momentarily lost when the first accident had happened.

You remember exactly what words you said to him last on that very phone call. Not only because of the significance of the call, but because you made sure to tell him every single time before you hung up.

"I love you."

A word you had uttered a million times to him, even though it still never seemed like enough. You knew that Rafe secretly enjoyed how much you said it though, since you were the only one in his life that had told him it in years at that point in time. His family had moved off and cut off contact with him once he had finally stood up to his dad. His sister, Sarah, stayed behind in Figure Eight with her boyfriend, John B, once they had attained a substantial amount of money after finding the gold.

You were practically Rafe's lifeline once you two had moved out together, a job you were perfectly fine with because you would have done it a million times had it meant that he was happy. You loved him. You loved him so much that when he hurt, you hurt. You felt his pain when he lost himself from his addiction, and you cried as he did when he had trouble adjusting to the move. But you past all the grief and the struggles he faced, believing that Rafe was a fighter and much stronger than what cards he was unfortunately dealt with in life.

But despite the countless efforts of getting him help and supporting him through his sobriety, Rafe nevertheless had demons he did not deserve, some of which he hid from even you. He faced a battle within himself frequently although he never showed it, realizing that it would only be hurting you to see him in such a state. So he continued his facade of pretending to be that carefree, content boy he was back when you first met him. But his perception of life and reality was tainted by an addiction that haunted him deeply, so deeply that even you couldn't take it away regardless of how much he loved you.

You were Rafe's first and only love. The love of his life, he would say. You were a breath of fresh air in a world full of melancholy, despondency, and corruption that surrounded him daily. He had worshipped the ground that you walked on, even on your worst days. You truly did not wrong in his eyes, a saint that was sent to him from the clouds up above. You had truly blessed his life, in ways that you had never truly believed despite how much he tried to remind you. He wanted to make sure you knew how thankful he was for you everyday, and he never failed to tell you so.

It was 1:48 am when you got the call that Rafe had died.

You lost a piece of yourself that night, or perhaps all of you went with him when he passed. Either ways, you were never the same. All of the plans you had made of a future that would never come, haunted by the reality that Rafe was now forever just a memory in the depths of your mind that you hoped to never lose, even in your old age. After his funeral had passed, you sold your apartment and moved back to your hometown, too haunted by the memories of your past life to be able to move back to Figure Eight. The place you met.

The only thing you took with you from that home was the cat that he got for you after begging him for weeks once you had moved in. You find that you cherish him, Bear, even more because he is your very last memory of Rafe Cameron. The very first and the very last boy you have ever loved.

[jacesvelaryons]

could you do a tom blyth social media ai where sadie sink is the faceclaim!?

hi my love, of course. i hope you like it! please continue to comment, like, subscribe send me requests or just hit my asks to let me know how i’m doing.

sorry this took so long 😭

auburn hair (tom blyth x actress!reader social media au)

masterlist

requests OPEN

yourusername

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thehollywoodreporter

liked by person7264 and others

we report actor tom blyth @/tomblyth and actress y/n l/n @/yourusername being very cozy and intimate at last week’s annual hollywood gala dinner. the two have since quietly confirmed through their agencies that they have been in a committed relationship for over a year and ask for everyone to respect the privacy of their romance.

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tomblyth

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[pikatsum]

high tide (came and brought you in) - chapter one.

summary: you’d originally rescued the injured merman out of kindness, and perhaps a healthy undercurrent of fear of what others in your town might do to the creature. the last thing you ever expected after returning him to the sea, was for him to try to stay.

tags: afab reader, merfolk, mention of explicitly-inhumane fishing practices.

this fic is a part of the teahouse collab, on discord!

A hunting party had left port, yesterday.

It was made up of the usual kind of tourist, you gathered, overhearing the neighborhood gossip on the sandy, well-trodden path into town. It was made up of a bunch of trigger-happy business students, likely bored with another year of academia and looking for something visceral. Looking to harm in a way that was sanctioned— even celebrated, in some corners of your seaside town. Doubtlessly, they were after the biggest creatures they could catch: sharks, dolphins, or something even more dangerous. Most of those you passed seem to believe that they’d be headed to the outer reefs.

This year, the annual merfolk migration had come early. You had heard through the grapevine that some of the offshore boats had begun to radio in with the usual signs: faulty sonar, empty traps and a general sense of unease, the closer they got to the outer-lying reefs, where multitudes of traveling pods made their temporary homes. Anyone with sense usually knew to stay far away from merfolk-territory, no matter how temporary their stay.

But now that that the sudden departure of the town’s gaudiest fishermen had combined with this news, it was collectively generating more rumor than Baralou Island had handled in months. As the path transitioned to craggy, uneven sidewalk, you still heard people on their porches, gossiping about what could’ve drawn the group’s attention so suddenly. Perhaps it was one of the cartload of technological additions that they’d constantly been wheeling up onto the sleek convertible boat they’d rented. You’d already had to duck through their large group by the harbor yesterday, and through the small crowds that had gathered to see what the fuss was about.

One of their number had been particularly boastful, perched at the top of the gangplank. His cerulean hair almost blinding in the sun, you’d heard him claim that he possessed the skill to capture merfolk— “I could snag a whole pod, in a single net!” — Anywhere else, those statements would’ve warned a call to the coast guard, if not the police. On Baralou, however, it was met with scattered applause and a single wolf-whistle.

Anti-merfolk sentiment always reached a peak in the summertime. The reason always varied: a lesser catch of fish that year, an increase in hurricane warnings. Merfolk— intelligent, powerful and little-understood— made the perfect scapegoats. With the early arrival of their annual migration, it was the opinion of some locals that the large pods passing through the reefs of the island were choking out the tourism industry. Never mind the fact that it was barely the start of summer, and the migration never lasted longer than a month. Nothing got people riled up like the notion of losing out on their most important source of income.

As a former resident, you knew that Baralou took great, and often dubiously-legal pains to advertise itself as having the “safest beaches in the world.” Entire books recounted years worth of fishing competitions with consistently high numbers of so-called “incidental harm” to merfolk. When taking these years’ worth of torment and fear tactics into account, it was little wonder that no mer would dare cross the reefs near the island, these days.

As a teenager, you too had sworn you would never come back to the island again— though this was more to do with Baralou’s pitifully-tiny size outside of tourist season, and the maddening frustration of growing up amongst the same faces you’d seen since nursery school. Nearing the end of your college career has reignited that passion to stay away— but unfortunately, your budget wasn’t quite in agreement with those plans. A summer of housesitting for your aunt and uncle, as well as your waitstaff position at one of Baralou’s many dockside restaurants would ideally give you enough to leave for good, come the fall.

Although you could barely wait to repack your overflowing suitcases, your first weeks back home had reminded you that not everything here was abjectly awful. Your expression lightened once you’d ordered from your usual café, turning to find an outside table already occupied with your favorite resident.

Camie Utshushimi wasted no time in shattering your hopes for normalcy.

“I heard—“ she began in a low voice, as you seated yourself, “—that somebody on the south-side offered to guide the business yuppies to a huge mer pod.”

You exhaled your disapproval over a warm mug of tea.

“That’s gotta be a scam. Even if they wanted to go out there, those reefs are nationally-protected. The fines alone would keep anybody away.”

“Babes, you know as well as I do that won’t stop them.”

“Even if they make it—” you retorted, “—I highly doubt a mer from these parts would be so easily caught, especially by that group.”

Camie at least seemed to take that point into consideration, a brief smile playing at her lips. She took a slow sip of coffee, her warm brown eyes pensively scanning the water.

“If anything, they’ll snag a nesting sea turtle, or a manatee that got washed in by mistake. The poor thing.” still you frowned, considering, “I hope they come back with nothing. But with all that fancy gear…”

This seemed to shake Camie out of her reverie, turning from the sea with a dismissive click of her tongue.

“Nah, Inasa already gave me the deets— that’s all rented. Fat chance they know how to use all of it.”

“Are you sure?” your lower lip worried anxiously, under your teeth.

Despite her agreeable chirp, you knew by the actual look in her eyes that she couldn’t be fully certain. You both finished your drinks in uneasy silence.

Camie was always amongst the island’s earliest risers, which meshed well with you. Shame that she had a social calendar more tightly packed than a visiting royal— she was never available in the evenings, no matter how many nights you tried to invite her to join you at the beach bars. Regardless, she was your closest friend on the island, and if these short moments outside the cobblestone cafe were what you had with her each morning, it was something you were grateful for.

On your way home, you cut back through the fishing harbor— at least, until you were stopped by a growing crowd. You couldn’t make out what was going on amongst their fluctuating number, but with everyone talking and the piercing beep of a large convertible boat backing in along the docks, you could only assume the town’s ‘conquering heroes’ had finally returned. Disgusted, you gave up your gawking and diverted to walk along the craggy shoreline for the last half-mile, back towards your borrowed home.

Most beachgoers preferred the island’s largest offerings, located just outside the shopping district at the other end of the island. These days, you preferred this semi-deserted spit of sand, despite the high tide forcing you to walk through the shallows for most of the way home.

Your weak earbuds were cranked to the max, but still did little against the crash of the waves. Slowly, you picked your way through a bed of oyster shells— even if any accidental cuts would be soothed in an instant, once the saltwater raced over your feet, again. At last, you reached the end of the shell bed, picking up the pace as the wind pushed insistently at you, spraying sand into your face and forcing you to stop, until it calmed.

Your podcast faded to ringing static in your ears when you spotted the torn fishing net, lying ahead.

Its edges had gouged deep into the sand— and, as it was so close to the shoreline itself, the waves that followed had buried them under more silt, throughly entrapping it. It was doubtlessly lost from the harbor. Was that the source of the commotion you’d missed? But, more horrifying than its condition (so tangled up on itself that it resembled a massive bunch of seaweed) or location, far from the fishing harbor, was the fact that it was moving.

Fear coursed through your veins. You needed to call some kind of authority. There should be a phone number at the prior beach access for the wildlife conservatory, if you could just get back to it. You’d have to go back over the oyster bed, but if something was still alive in that monstrosity, there wasn’t much choice to make. You’d taken all of two steps back, preparing yourself for the pain, when an odd sound rose in the lull of the tide. You tore out your cheap earbuds and strained to listen.

The sound that followed defied explanation. You’d never heard anything close to it. The only comparative experience you could draw from was mourning. A harsh, desperate cry, from something that was quite literally on its last hope.

The next thing you knew, your hands were plunging into damp tangles of rope. You cursed as it slid from your hands, as you first tried to wrench it apart, and then upwards— but of course, its moorings were stuck fast. It vaguely occurred that you had absolutely no idea what you were attempting to unearth, but the thought was quickly forgotten. Whatever this was, you could hear breathing from within the mass— shaky, ragged, and quick. You didn’t have much time.

And so, you turned instead to the edges themselves. You plunged your hands into the wet sand and dug as fast as you could. Fortunately, the fasteners weren’t buried too deeply. It didn’t take long for you to pry one up, and then another, the raspy catch of breathing serving as an inefficient and rapidly-dwindling timer. Your fingers burned. Your arms ached. And yet, you continued to tear at the bindings, tugging at the base of the netting until you could finally start to pry up a corner.

You‘a heard of hysterical strength before, but you’d never truly acknowledged the sensation until the soaked, dripping netting was held high above your head. Very quickly, those considerations vanished entirely at the sight of the form underneath.

A pair of bright dichromatic eyes blinked at you through the gloom. The moment would be almost ethereal, if their owner wasn’t literally heaving for breath, both arms stuck akimbo in the holes of the netting. You gave voice to the only thought that actually made sense in this situation.

“…What the hell…?”

Your arms burned from the sopping weight of the net. Water and damp pieces of seaweed were falling on the both of you. With a grunt of effort, you finally stepped forward and chucked the excess portion backwards, before you immediately knelt to loosen the remaining bindings.

The man— not human, not fully, your brain warned— almost immediately began to thrash, displacing a spray of water between you as the tide came in. You bit back a yelp, but repressed the urge to flinch, caught up by the look on his face.

Whatever he was or wasn’t, you knew he was afraid.

You couldn’t be sure if he would understand, as you raised your hands, palms out. Was there really such a thing as a universal sight of surrender? Although your next movement forward earned a flash of sharp teeth, he didn’t move against you. With that, your hands returned to the net, and you set to work untangling it from his body.

You stared down at your hands as you worked, pulse thrumming in your ears. Outside of them, you couldn’t feel anything, outside the numbing sting of adrenaline. Because of that, your motor control was tenuous at best— all you could do was continue working at the net. Heart in your mouth, you snuck another glance up, to confirm your suspicions. Sharp teeth. Bright eyes. Fins, twitching and alert, where ears would be.

If anyone else happened upon your rescue of a beached merman, you would be in very serious trouble.

You re-doubled your efforts, trying to get him loose, wishing that you’d somehow had the foresight to grab something sharp—

—oh, wait.

“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow—!”

One painstaking pick-over of the oyster graveyard later and you had yourself a prime specimen. You’d exchanged a fair bit of blood to the sand, but that was neither here nor there. You half-ran, half-limped back to the fallen net, makeshift tool held high and set to work, ignoring the latest attempt to swipe at you. This particular shell had sliced open the ball of your foot, so, soon enough, it had started a tear into the tangled net.

The merman didn’t seem to appreciate your ingenuity. You’d barely gotten his right arm free before he was using it to grab onto yours, tugging you forwards as his other, bound arm tried to gesture to his throat.

“Wait—!” you panicked at the strength of his grip, “I’m getting your other arm out, just breathe—!”

A feeling like ice water ran down your spine.

“….Can’t…”

“You ca—?” you’d barely gotten through the repetition before you saw the small slits in his throat, gaping and closing frantically.

You had no idea how long the mer had been breathing above-water, but those rattling wheezes sounded like he was reaching his limit.

“Oh, shit— hold on!”

You cut through the last binding of his left arm and began to feverishly hack away at the snarled mass behind him. It wasn’t long before the shimmer of scales became apparent through the remaining bindings. You couldn’t think much about the full magnitude of what all you had uncovered— how could he speak? — because the merman in question could barely breathe at all. The small gasps of air he managed to draw seemed more like hiccups.

With no time to spare, you dragged whatever remained of the net backwards, wincing as a massive number of koi-like scales were caught and sloughed off in your haste. Supposedly the merman would sooner be alive than care about the finer details of his appearance.

The net had barely dropped before his powerful tail slammed down into the surface of the wet sand— sending fragments of it splashing back over you. You took a few steps back as the merman— tail uselessly trying to propel him forwards— was forced to use an approximation of an army-crawl to get towards the shallows.

Without the snarled ropes in the way, you only saw the injuries left behind. A multitude of bruising and deep scratches marred his back, some still sluggishly-bleeding. There was a long gouge of scales missing on his left flank, revealing the smooth muscle of his tail which seemed to share the unique dichromatic coloring of the rest of him. A few pairs of dorsal fins twitched valiantly as he tried to propel himself forwards.

Finally, the merman made it to the sea. It was easier going from there, especially after he’d managed to fully submerge his head and neck underwater. He stayed for a long moment, doubtlessly drinking in the relief of oxygen that he could fully process. But no mer would ever want to stay this close to Baralou’s shore. As he sank into the shallows, you expected him to tear off, instantly.

Instead, he broke the surface again, split hair tumbling over his broad shoulders, before another of those indecipherable sounds carried itself over the shush of the incoming tide, back to you. This one sounded like a challenge. He’d fought his way through whatever hell had gotten him trapped in that netting, suffered through a slow asphyxiation and crawled himself back to the sea. He’d very nearly been killed. But now, he seemed to dare the land and anyone living there to try it, again.

Caught in the early-morning rays, he was the most breathtaking creature you had ever seen.

In spite of the sentiments, the posted warnings, and the merman’s borderline war-cry, you made your way back down the sand and into the shallows. The merman had vanished far into the deeper waters by then. You doubted he’d return for such a silly reason. And yet….

A few small tide-pools were receding beneath the tangles of net you’d torn away. You knelt and began to dig through their broken coils, to extract as many of the curved, glimmering scales as you could. They were ivory, with splashes of wine red, each one with its own unique pattern. Perhaps, like snakeskin, a mer’s scales were destined to be shed. Still, you felt like they had to serve some purpose.

Once you’d gathered up as many as you could carry, you made your way down the shore, following the shallow trench that his tail had left. You went along it, into the sea, out until it lapped up over your kneecaps, where the merman had first shoved his face underwater, and then you went a bit further, just for good measure. It would be nothing but bad news to have these wash back up, after all.

There, you lowered your hands, and let the scales slip through, to the ocean floor. Even if the merman didn’t come back, perhaps the currents would be kind enough to return at least some of them back where they belonged. With one final glance outwards, you took your leave, walking determinedly towards the shore, even as the ocean’s receding current pulled enticingly, trying to lure you to follow, into its depths.

[aristotlecoyote]

Nah but my guys.

This shit

Is inexcusable. Any of you supporting them when those attached to them say *this* after gloating about a 115 dollar bag *for their honey moon*

And saying they are barely surviving and having trouble making content

Dont deserve your respect as a viewer.

This comment is a glimpse at their true natures whether you like it or not.

This isnt a hate attack. I have an inherent respect for life and the humans that live it. I respect that they are humans that do whatever they want of their own free will. Like yeah spend money. Do things. Live your life buy a house eat good healthy food.

But that is all a privilege. A privilege not many people have at the moment??

I am privileged. I work for my family as a caretaker(paid for by the state btw. My parents can not afford to pay me other wise). I cant buy my own food. I make "too much" to have food stamps. I live off of what my parents, who are also struggling, can provide. I live with my parents at 27 because working conditions and living conditions are so bad and i am so mentally ill i cant be on my own for my own *safety*. Just because i am able to live in relative comfort by the grace of my safety net doesnt mean ive always had that grace. And many *many* more people in the world dont even have the safety net that kept me off the street. I stole food from my old roommates because i was hungry and couldnt afford food. I was feeding my dog *my* food because i couldnt buy his food. I am 5,000 dollars in debt because i couldn't afford health insurance and went to the ER because i was going to end my life. I couldnt pay the 260 dollar bill i was sent so i just hoped and prayed it would go away and now its eating me.

I am also bad with money even when all my bills are paid.

I bought merch. I bought tickets to the live show. I did that because i paid my bills once and had enough to feed my addiction to solving my depression with buying tiny useless things. I know its not a good fucking idea. I know it is but im sure someone out there understands that you cant always control yourself when you arent fully present in your own life. I cant even leave the house because i *know* ill spend money and i *know* i cant.

And i thought i was supporting people who cared about their fans enough to atleast not say stuff like this.

I was staying subscribed to the youtube channel out of the hope that they would change their mind, see reason? Maybe?

But they wont.

This shows that they wont. That they refuse. That all good faith worries and criticisms mean nothing to them because We cant pay them to care.

So yeah. @wearewatcher @watcherfans these are the people you want to be and support, huh? Positivity is nice when you arent eating ramen. When you arent skipping meals to make yourself feel better for living off your equally struggling family. When you have enough around you to feel safe and secure enough to pay for something that isnt even worth the money you put in.

This isnt a post to get pity. This is a post to put in perspective the reality working class people face. What poor people face. What disabled people, who cant even marry or grow savings, face.

Please. Just think of humans as people and not just money and art.

[lvlystars]

23:47 — s.mg

“okay, promise you won’t get mad at me?” mingi holds out a pinky to your blindfolded figure, and you’re left in confusion when you feel his pinky finger grazing your hand. you furrow your eyebrows. “why would i get mad at you, love?”

“just promise!” he urges you, and you hold your hands up in the air before letting out an ‘okay!’ and hooking your pinky with his, promising that you wouldn’t get mad over whatever he had planned.

“you’re not crossing your fingers or anything, right-”

“mingi get on with it!” you push him, growing impatient as you both stood outside your apartment door, ready to go in and just ring in your birthday while you're in bed, peacefully cuddled up in your sheets and sleeping.

mingi holds you back from entering your home last minute as he whispers in your ear. “just to let you know that although i am your boyfriend, this was all wooyoung’s idea-”

“YOU TOOK AN IDEA FROM WOOYOUNG?!?!” you exclaim, now dreading what state your apartment is in. you step backwards as you stumble a little, the black blindfold still restricting you from seeing anything around you, making mingi hold you tightly in his arms as he grows nervous.

“listen, we wanted it to be a surprise…” mingi trails off, then clears his throat. “let’s just go in, yeah? and then you’ll see the surprise!” he smiles brightly, trying to keep any evidence of stress or nervousness evident on his face.

you both soon walk into your shared apartment, and you take off your blindfold to be met with about an army’s worth of mingi cutouts all facing you, staring you down as you stare back at them with shock. you couldn’t even count up to 20 before losing track, and you feel all the colourful words come up into your mouth. turning towards him, mingi grins sheepishly at you before bolting out the door, whipping open the door to the staircase as you chase after him.

“SONG MINGI!” you scream, running up the stairs and following him into a random open apartment as he screams bloody murder, throwing his arms up in the air as he waves them around.

before you can register where you even were at the moment, the lights flash on and screams erupt all around you as cameras are pointing towards you.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!!”

you pull your phone to check the time, and shining right back at your face were the numbers 00:00, indicating that it indeed was your birthday.

you start to thank everyone as they wished you happy birthday, some people giving you pats on the back while others were screaming in your face and lightly giving you birthday beats. as you talk to everyone, you can’t help but look for a particularly tall, silver-haired man who might be lurking amongst the crowd, hiding himself from your wrath, when you spot him in the hallways towards the bedroom.

mingi doesn’t even notice you marching over to him before he yelps out as he’s dragged into a bedroom.

“did you plan this?” you ask him, crossing your arms as you look up at him.

“YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!” he shrieks, holding his chest as he breaths heavily. you slap his arms as he flinches, putting his arms down. “well?”

“...yes.” he hangs his head down.

you fake a scowl before giving in and going in for a hug, taking mingi by surprise as he slowly hugs back.

“thank you.” you whisper to him, pinching his side playfully.

“AH- oh uh, you're welcome, baby.” he breathily laughs, flinching as he wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, rubbing your shoulders in endearment.

you both stay silent before you interrupt the silence.

“now where’s wooyoung?”

wc. 643

a/n: for miles! heppy birdday kilometres @star1117-archives

tagging 🏷️ —

@welcometomyoasis @etherealyoungk @amxlia-stars @seuonji @spicyseonghwas @haowrld @kyeomyun

networks 🔗—

@preciousillusions-net @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels

ⓒ lvlystars