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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

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You can’t shop your way out of a monopoly

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TUCSON (Mar 9-10), then SAN FRANCISCO (Mar 13), Anaheim, and more!

If you're running a business, you can either invest at being good at your business, or good at Google SEO. Choose the former and your customers will love you – but they won't be able to find you, thanks to the people who choose the latter. And if you're going to invest in top-notch SEO, why bother investing in quality at all?

For more than a decade, Google has promised that it would do something about "lead gens" – services that spoof Google into thinking that they are local businesses, pushing down legit firms on both regular search and Google Maps (these downranked businesses invested in quality, not SEO, remember). Search for a roofer, a plumber, an electrician, or a locksmith (especially a locksmith), and most or all of the results will be lead-gens. They'll take your call, pretend to be a local business, and then call up some half-qualified bozo to come out and charge you four times the going rate for substandard work:

https://www.nytimes.com/2016/01/31/business/fake-online-locksmiths-may-be-out-to-pick-your-pocket-too.html

Some of them just take your money and they "go back to the shop for a tool" and never return:

https://www.riverfronttimes.com/news/when-a-fake-business-used-a-real-st-louis-address-things-got-weird-32087998

Google has been promising to fix this since the late aughts, and to be fair, it's a little better. There was once a time when a map of Manhattan showed more locksmiths than taxis:

https://blumenthals.com/blog/2009/02/18/google-maps-proves-more-locksmiths-in-nyc-than-cabs/

But GMaps is trapped in the enshittification squeeze. On the one hand, the company wants to provide a good and reliable map. On the other hand, the company makes money selling "ads" that are actually payola, where a business can pay to get to the top of the listings or get displayed on the map itself. Zoom out of Google's map of central London and the highlighted landmarks are a hilarious mix of "organic" and paid listings: the British Museum, Buckingham Palace, the Barbican, the London Eye…and a random oral and maxillofacial clinic in the financial district:

https://twitter.com/dylanbeattie/status/1764711667663831455

Hell of a job "organizing the world's information and making it universally accessible and useful," Big G. Doubtless the average Londoner finds the presence of this clinic super helpful in orienting themselves relative to the map on their phone screens, and it's a real service to tourists hoping to hit all the major landmarks.

It's not just Maps users who'd noticed the rampant enshittification. Even the original design team is so horrified they're moved to speak out about the moral injury they experience seeing the product they worked so hard on turned into a giant pile of shit:

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

Now, when it comes to locksmiths, I'm lucky. My neighborhood in Burbank includes the wonderful Golden State Lock and Safe, which has been in business since 1942:

https://www.goldenstatelock.com/

But you wouldn't know it from searching GMaps for a locksmith near me. That search turns up a long list of scams:

https://www.google.com/maps/search/locksmith/@34.1750451,-118.369948,14z/data=!3m1!4b1?entry=ttu

It also turns up plenty of Keyme machines – these are private-equity backed, self-serve key-cutting machines placed in grocery stores. Despite Keyme calling itself a "locksmith," it's just a badly secured, overcaptilized, enshittification-bound system for collecting and retaining shapefiles for the keys to millions of homes, cross-referenced with billing information that will make it easy for the eventual hackers to mass-produce keys for all those poor suckers' houses.

(Hilariously, Keyme claims to be an "AI" company):

https://www.businesswire.com/news/home/20200114005194/en/KeyMe-Raises-35-Million-to-Further-Its-Mission-of-Building-the-Premier-Locksmith-Services-Company-in-the-Nation

But despite the fact that you can literally see the Golden State storefront from Google Streetview, Google Maps claims to have no knowledge of it. Instead, Streetview labels Golden State "Keyme" – and displays a preview showing a locksmith using a tool to break into a jeep (I'd dearly love to know how the gadget next to the Slurpee machine at the 7-Eleven will drive itself to your jeep and unlock the door for you when you lose your keys):

https://www.google.com/maps/place/KeyMe+Locksmiths/@34.1752624,-118.3487531,3a,75y,350.19h,90.21t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1ssHrtqjqvgFir3NBauMy13Q!2e0!7i16384!8i8192!4m15!1m8!3m7!1s0x80c2959cd65dbb1b:0x4b3744cf87492a71!2sBurbank+Blvd+%26+N+Hollywood+Way,+Burbank,+CA+91505!3b1!8m2!3d34.1750025!4d-118.3493484!16s%2Fg%2F11f37_3lq8!3m5!1s0x80c2951cedbf4d39:0xe8ff9fd5872e66e9!8m2!3d34.1755176!4d-118.349!16s%2Fg%2F11mw7nr4fx?entry=ttu

It's pretty clear to me what's going on here. Keyme has hired some SEO creeps and/or paid off Google, flooding the zone with listings for its machines. Meanwhile, Golden State, being merely good at locksmithing, has lost the SEO wars. Perhaps Golden State could shift some of its emphasis from being good at locksmithing in order to get better at SEO, but this is a race that will always be won by the firm that puts the most into SEO, which will always be the firm that puts the least into quality.

Whenever I write about this stuff, people inevitably ask me which search engine they should use, if not Google?

And there's the rub.

Google used predatory pricing and anticompetitive mergers to acquire a 90% search market-share. The company spends more than $26b/year buying default position in every place where you might possibly encounter a new search engine. This created the "kill zone" – the VC's term of art for businesses that no one will invest in, because Google makes sure that no one will ever find out it exists:

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

That's why the only serious competitor to Google is Bing, another Big Tech company (Bing is also the primary source of results on Duckduckgo, which is why DDG sometimes makes exceptions for Microsoft's privacy-invading tracking):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/DuckDuckGo#Controversies

Google tells us that the quid-pro-quo of search monopolization is search excellence. The hundreds of billions it makes every year through monopoly control gives it the resources it needs to fight spammers and maintain search result quality. Anyone who's paid attention recently knows that this is bullshit: Google search quality is in free-fall, across all its products:

https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf

But Google doesn't seem to think it has a problem. Rather than devoting all its available resources to fighting botshit, spam and scams, the company set $80 billion dollars alight last year with a stock buyback that was swiftly followed with 12,000 layoffs, followed by multiple subsequent rounds of layoffs:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

The scams that slip through Google's cracks are sometimes nefarious, but just as often they're decidedly amateurish, the kind of thing that Google could fix by throwing money at the problem, say, to validate that new ads for confirmed Google merchants come from the merchant's registered email addresses and go to the merchant's registered website:

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

Search is a capital intensive business, and there are real returns to scale, as the UK Competition and Market Authority's excellent 2020 study describes:

https://assets.publishing.service.gov.uk/media/5fe4957c8fa8f56aeff87c12/Appendix_I_-_search_quality_v.3_WEB_.pdf

But Google doesn't seem to think that its search needs that $80 billion to fight the spamwars. That's the thing about monopolists, they get complacent. As Lily Tomlin's "Ernestine the AT&T operator" used to say, "We don't care, we don't have to, we're the phone company."

That's why I'm so excited about the DOJ Antitrust Division monopolization case against Google. Trusting one company to "organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful," was a failure:

https://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/justice-department-sues-google-monopolizing-digital-advertising-technologies

I understand why people want to know which search engine they should use instead of Google, and I get why, "There aren't any good search engines" is such an unsatisfactory answer. I understand why each fresh round of printer-company fuckery prompts people to ask "which printer should I get?" and I understand why "There are only six major printer companies and they're all suffering from end-stage enshittification" isn't what anyone wants to hear.

We want to be able to vote with our wallets, because it's so much faster and more convenient than voting with our ballots. But the vote-with-your-wallet election is rigged for the people with the thickest wallets. Try as hard as you'd like, you just can't shop your way out of a monopoly – that's like trying to recycle your way out of the climate emergency. Systemic problems need systemic solutions – not individual ones.

That's why the new antitrust matters so much. The answer to monopolies is to break up companies, block and unwind mergers, ban deceptive and unfair conduct. "Caveat emptor" is the scammer's motto. You shouldn't have to be an expert on lead gen scams to hire a locksmith without getting ripped off.

There are good products and services out there. Earlier this year, we decided to install a (non-networked) programmable pushbutton lock. I asked Deviant Ollam – whom I know from Defcon's Lockpicking Village – for a recommendation and he suggested the Schlage FE595:

https://www.schlage.com/en/home/products/FE595PLYFFFFLA.html

I liked it so much I bought another one for my office door. Eric from Golden State Lock and Safe installed it while I wrote this blog-post. It's great. I recommend both of 'em – 10/10, would do business again.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/05/the-map-is-not-the-territory/#vapor-locksmith

Image: alicia rae (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kehole_Red.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

Budhiargomiko (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Wasteland.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #enshittification #locksmith scams #google #google maps #monopoly #doj #seo #big tech

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

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Quarantining Together (Pedro Pascal X Reader)

Pair: pedro pascal x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, pulling pranks (let me know if i missed any)

Summary: Imagine what it’s like quarantining with Pedro Pascal.

Words: 2k

A/N: This is my first pedro fic. I tried my best to imagine how playful and sweet Pedro is in real life. I hope you like it! I’ve been writing Joel Miller fics so I guess I’ll give it a try. I know a lot of you don’t really like a real person fic but this idea came into my mind when I listened to that interview where Pedro talked about the quarantine period during covid 19 pandemic. And when he talked about his friends that supported him during that period, he was holding his cry. I kept thinking what if there was someone there who quarantined with him together so he wouldn't feel alone during the lockdown.

“Did you hear about the news?” Pedro sat on the edge of the couch sipping on his coffee.

“What news?” You tilted your head.

“We’ll have a lockdown from next week. We have to stay at home. The pandemic is getting out of control.” Pedro put his cup on the coffee table.

“Oh..I should get the groceries then. Stock up. I think you should too. Your fridge has nothing.” You chuckled.

He chuckled and froze for a while. His face was so focused. It seemed like he was thinking about something serious.

“I was thinking..” He gulped.

“Maybe we could quarantine here together. What do you think?” Pedro looked at you.

“Here? You sure?” You raised your eyebrows.

You and Pedro had been dating for a few months and he hadn’t asked you to move in. But you always came to his place everyday to spend time together, watch movies, eat dinner, and sometimes crash for a few nights.

“I’m sure, hun.” Pedro chuckled.

“Yay!” You jumped and hugged him.

He groaned at your weight and wrapped his arms around you.

“So should I start moving my stuff today?” You pulled back your head to look at him.

Pedro nodded then he drove you back to your apartment and helped you pack your stuff. You packed your essentials and brought 2 big suitcases. Before you left your apartment for God knows how long, you made sure you had turned off all of the lights and unplugged any sockets.

“Done.” You dragged your suitcases near the door.

Pedro lent his hand to drag both of your suitcases.

“Take this one. This one’s heavy.” You dragged the heavy one closer to you.

“Nuh-uh. I’ll take that one.” Pedro took the bigger suitcase off from your hands.

You chuckled and shook your head. Pedro was always a gentleman and he treated you like a princess. You loved it but sometimes you felt bad.

“Let’s stop by the grocery store before we go to your place.” You suggested Pedro to buy some groceries and stock up.

“Okay.” Pedro nodded and started the car.

You and Pedro bought everything you needed and of course some vegetables, fruits, cereals, milk, and instant food that you could keep for a few more weeks. You went home to Pedro’s house with a lot of paper bags. You and Pedro had to make a few turns to the car to move the groceries.

“Finally! Last one!” Pedro put the last paper bag on the kitchen table.

“Phew! That’s a lot of work.” You wiped your sweat from your forehead.

“Why don’t we take a break, hun?” Pedro massaged your shoulder.

“But we still need to organize them..” You were an organized person so you couldn’t stand seeing messy things.

“Come on, just 5 minutes.” Pedro pushed you gently and sat you to the couch.

You sighed as you sat. You suddenly felt all your muscles ache from packing your stuff earlier today and all the groceries stuff.

“Come here.” Pedro moved closer to you and turned you so your back faced him.

Then he gently massaged your shoulder then your back. He knew you loved back massage so he often gave you massage.

“That feels good.” You closed your eyes and hummed.

He chuckled and kept massaging every inch of your back. Then he kissed your shoulder as a sign that he finished massaging your back. You turned your head to him and smiled.

“Thank you, P.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Your turn.” You asked him to turn so you could massage him.

“Not now. Why don’t you do it for me before we go to bed?” He smirked.

“Yes sir.” You smirked back at him.

You and Pedro spent the day organizing the groceries and your stuff. Then you watched a movie in the living room together, cuddled on the couch, and ordered pizza. After the movie ended, the two of you went to bed. You didn’t forget to give him the back massage you owed him.

“Good night, hun.” Pedro kissed your head that was resting on his chest.

“Good night, P.” You rubbed his chest.

His warmth gave you comfort and security that made you sleep so well. You hated the pandemic but on the other side you were glad because it was the reason he finally asked you to move in. Now you wouldn’t have to be worried about having sleepless nights and dealing with nightmares all alone. You had him. You had Pedro there next to you to comfort you when you needed it.

You yawned as the sunlight woke you up. You squealed as you stretched your body then you looked next to you. Pedro was already awake. He was sitting with a pillow behind his back, iPad in his hands. He was reading a script for his next project. You loved watching him in work mode. Pedro was a hard worker and you loved a hardworking man.

“Morning.” Pedro saw you had woken up.

“Morning.” You chuckled and rubbed your eyes.

“How was your sleep?” Pedro put away his iPad to the bedside table.

“Best sleep I’ve ever had this month.” You chuckled and snuggled to put your arms around his waist.

“How was your sleep?” You asked him back.

“I slept so well. Thanks to the massage you gave me last night.” Pedro chuckled and stroked your head.

*TOOT*

Pedro farted. Yes, he farted right when your head was so close to his butt. Then he quickly pulled the sheets and buried you under the sheets. He laughed out loud while you struggled to save yourself from Pedro’s fart bomb.

“P!” You screamed for your life.

Pedro kept fighting you so you couldn’t get out from the sheets. He kept laughing while you were actually dying. He finally let you out after a few minutes.

“What was that?!” You panted, gasping for clean air.

“That..is..my love for you.” Pedro giggled and kissed you.

“You definitely have to poop right now! I mean it! It smells so bad!” You hit his chest.

“Okay. Okay.” Pedro chuckled and went to the bathroom.

You groaned as you got out of the bed and opened the window for ventilation. His fart smell was still stuck in your nose and you needed fresh air. While you waited for him doing his business, you went to the kitchen to make breakfast. You toasted some bread, fried some eggs and bacon.

“Hmm, smells so good, honey.” Pedro suddenly hugged you from behind.

You chuckled as he swayed you for a moment before he sat.

“Thank you.” He thanked you for making breakfast for him.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled and took a bite of your toast.

“What do you want to do today?” Pedro asked you what you had planned for the day.

“I was thinking of reading a book and just chill.” You shrugged.

“That’s a good idea.” Pedro nodded.

“How about you?” You asked him back.

“I have to practice my lines. And I need your help.” He mumbled while munching on the bacon.

“Of course, I’ll help you with that.” You smirked.

After the two of you finished breakfast, Pedro offered to wash the dishes. You took a shower and went to the pool to read under the sun. You read a few pages and dozed off.

*SPLASH*

You screamed as you fell inside the pool. You tried to find your balance and stood up in the pool. The water was high up to your chest. You heard Pedro laugh while you panted and wiped your face.

“I HATE YOU!” You yelled at him.

Pedro bursted into laughter. He loved pulling pranks on you because he enjoyed watching your reactions. You knew he was always a prankster and sometimes you pulled a prank on him but his pranks were worse. You could never win from his pranks. It hadn’t been one day yet and he already pranked you twice. You needed to prank him back.

“Think, think, think.” You kept telling yourself inside your mind.

You decided to act pissed and gave him the silent treatment. He lent you his hand to help you out from the pool but you ignored him. You chose to walk on the stairs and got out yourself. Pedro got you a towel but you pushed him away. You just stayed silent and walked inside the house to get yourself a towel. He started getting worried. He believed your acts. He thought you were really mad at him.

“Honey, I’m sorry.” Pedro followed you from behind.

You didn’t answer him, not even looked at him. You went to the bathroom and dried yourself while Pedro leaned on the bathroom door and waited for you. His eyes looked sad and he tried talking to you a few times but you kept quiet. You acted like he wasn’t there.

“I promise I’m not gonna do that again, darling. I’m sorry.” He took your hand.

You wanted to laugh seeing him following you like a toddler. Especially because you were not mad at him. He pulled you but you walked away, your back facing him holding your laugh. You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t burst into laughter. Then you got into character again and went back to the pool. You hoped he was still following you because you wanted to pay him back. Yes, you were planning to push him to the pool just like he did to you.

“Is there anything you want? Let me make it up to you, honey. I’ll do anything you want. Just talk to me.” Pedro followed you to the pool.

“Hit me, honey. If that makes you feel better.” He took your hand and moved it to hit his chest.

Finally, this was it. It was the right time. You gathered your courage and pushed him with force.

“Pay back time!” You shouted and pushed him.

*SPLASH*

Pedro fell into the pool. Your plan worked. You were finally able to laugh. Pedro wiped his face and slicked his hair back.

“You’re not mad at me?” He stood there inside the pool.

“Of course not. I was just trying to get back at you! You naughty!” You stuck your tongue at him.

Pedro laughed. He was relieved that you weren’t mad at him. It was better that you pranked him back rather than you being angry at him.

“I guess we’re even now?” Pedro shrugged.

“Not yet, mister. One more and then we’re even. So you need to be careful.” You raised your eyebrows and put your hands on your hips.

“Yes, maam.” Pedro slowly walks near the edge of the pool.

“Help me up?” He extended his hand asking you to help him out of the pool.

You knew this was also one of his ways to pull pranks on you. You were certain he was going to pull you inside the pool with him. But you were okay with that because at least you had pranked him once today. So you put our hand on his. He smirked and pulled you. Just as you had expected, you were now inside the pool with him.

“I knew you were going to do that.” You wiped your face as you giggled.

“Uh-huh?” He nodded and put his arms around you.

Pedro pulled you closer and kissed your lips.

“Salty.” You frowned.

“Now that..was.. a mix of the pool water aaand..my pee.” Pedro giggled at your face.

He claimed to have peed inside the pool. You gagged and wiped your mouth while Pedro just laughed looking at you. He loved you so much that you were his source of his happiness. He adored you so much and your reactions when he pranked you entertained him.

“You’re so cute, honey. I’m dying.” He gave you a deep kiss.

“I’m dying too because you pulled too many pranks on me.” You chuckled.

“You should know that is my love language.” Pedro cupped your cheeks.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes.

“I love you so much it hurts.” Pedro gazed through your eyes. His eyes were full of love.

“I love you so much too, P.” You smiled and kissed him.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal fanfic #fanfiction #fiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n

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piscespetals · 6 months

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summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part one here

content: fluff, angst, lesbian disaster

word count: 4k

sorry for the long wait! i've been very ill and it's taken a long while to recover since i'm immunocompromised. let me know your thoughts!

Chapter Two

Sevika is right...

Her friends are nice.

The first time that you meet them is two weeks after she moves in.

She tells you that she initially, “Just wants to show them the place.”

She asks if you’re okay with that.

“Of course,” You respond, taken aback by the question.

You have a feeling that Sevika will do that often–ask for your permission, that is.

A part of you is flattered that she respects you so much to do so.

When they arrive, there’s two of them. One is a short heavy set woman with a buzz cut and gauges. She has striking cheekbones and smells nice. Her name is Hazel.

The other is a burly man, maybe ten years your senior, with a greying beard and ash brown hair. He wears clunky boots, something that you notice about him immediately and his name is Vander.

Hazel hugs you upon introduction. She has a tattoo on her neck in red ink; a viper with its fangs bared. The sight catches your breath. Instantly, you decide that you like her.

The four of you make your way throughout the flat. It’s easy to laugh along to Vander’s terribly corny puns and Hazel’s witty side-remarks. Sevika is the tamer one of the trio, which is not something you had expected, yet makes sense nonetheless.

When you all have made your way to the living room, the setting sun shines through the blinds of the patio door. It must be closer to dusk–a time of day that you often enjoy.

Your stomach grumbles and your nerves have settled to near nonexistence. With a sense of ease, you turn to Vander and Hazel and ask, “Would you two like to stay for dinner?”

You can tell that your offer shocks them. The original plan was for their visit to be short. At least, that’s what Sevika has assured you of. But you didn’t seem to mind their company for a few hours more.

“We’d love to!” Vander replies, without hesitation.

When you glance towards Sevika, she’s peering at you with bright sparkling irises. A slow smile creeps onto her face, one that displays her pearly whites and gap. A buzz of exhilaration shoots through you. She winks, a small notion that somehow manages to speak a thousand words.

Your veins nearly explode.

Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek, as you struggle to contain yourself from bursting into a shit-eating grin.

There’s a routine to you and Sevika’s livelihood.

She usually cooks the meals. You do your best to clean the house afterwards. Though you're not much of a cleaner, Sevika’s presence seems to make you want to do so. She’s particular about her living space. She likes everything tidy and organized; two words that you weren’t very familiar with before meeting her. But she somehow makes those traits easy for you to adopt.

She likes to grocery shop. You don’t take kindly to those sorts of errands; that was a chore that Mel used to happily complete. But now, it’s been delegated to Sevika.

When she arrives back home from the store, you meet her in the parking lot. She always looks mighty and powerful when she pulls up in her shiny black truck.

And it feels natural when she regards you with a warm grin, climbing out of her ridiculous vehicle with ease. You never fail to smile in return. Because smiling around her is the easiest thing to do–nearly as easy as breathing.

She slips a few bags of groceries into your arms–which always seem to be the lightest loads–while she grabs the heavier items. And the both of you walk back to the apartment, glued at the hip, chatting about everything that comes to mind. Or, on some days, nothing at all.

Conversation is never a necessity around Sevika.

Her presence is, invariably, more than enough.

Sevika has a girlfriend.

It’s brought to your attention a month after she moves in. One day, Sevika asks you if her girlfriend can stay the night. “Is that okay with you?” She mutters, during the early hours of the morning.

You were aware that she had started seeing someone, but you didn’t think it was so… serious.

Not serious enough for her to want the woman to sleep over. Not serious enough for her to ask your permission.

“If it’s not,” She adds. “I completely get it.”

She wants to know if you’re okay with that idea. Oddly enough, the fact that she’s merely asking for permission is a gesture that spreads warmth inside of your chest.

But there’s also a much stronger emotion that washes over you. For some reason, your instinctive reflex is to wrinkle your nose. You catch yourself trying to cloak that reaction by diving your nose into your mug and taking a hearty gulp of your tea. The liquid burns your throat.

After you swallow, you turn your back towards her, expressing a sudden interest in the toast she’s made you. Suddenly, you aren’t as woo’d by her request to make you breakfast. Did she butter your toast because she wanted to? Or because she was trying to lift your spirits, in hopes that you’d be okay with meeting her girlfriend?

Your mouth sours. “Why would it bother me?” Your voice is hoarse from lack of usage. “You’re a grown woman. You can have anyone over that you’d like. I’m not like,” You clear your throat. “Your mother or anything.” Then you shove a piece of warm buttery toast into your mouth. You aren’t the type to eat toast on a daily basis, but since she’s moved in, you have. You hate how much she makes you love it. “Plus, you're on the lease. So this is your place too. You don’t have to ask me for permission.”

She hesitates before replying, “It's the polite thing to do.”

You roll your eyes.

Polite this and polite that.

Sevika’s always being polite with you, even when you don’t ask her to. Even when you don’t feel like you deserve it.

Even when you’re being anything but polite to her.

You hate that about her. She makes your muscles relax and your toes simultaneously curl. She makes your heart leap whilst somehow causing your breathing to even. She makes you feel like a walking contradiction. She makes you…

She makes you–

“She’s your girlfriend, Sev.” You don’t mean to seem disgruntled when you say this. But somehow–you just are. “If you want her to be here, let her be here.”

You grab your mug then your plate of toast, and head to your room.

“Thanks for breakfast!” You force yourself to sound chirpier. It’s an attempt to smooth things over, because you feel bad for being grumpy, even if you don’t have the emotional intelligence to actually correct it.

She doesn’t reply and she doesn’t follow after you.

You shut your bedroom door with a sigh.

You meet Sevika’s girlfriend later that night. It’s brief.

You had been eating pizza while watching reruns of The Nanny in the living room. Your mouth was full of crust when Sevika came traipsing through the living room, introducing you to her girlfriend while holding her hand.

“This is Monica,” She said.

The first thing you noticed was that Monica was pretty. Big chocolate brown eyes, russet brown skin and a leggy figure.

Your chewing came to a halt then, eyes widening in surprise. A part of you wanted to shrink at that moment, due to your faded old tshirt and sweatpants. Monica was the sort of woman that you’d probably find yourself ogling any other day. But today was different, because she was Sevika’s Monica. And that made you feel…weird.

“Your tights are ripped,” Was the only reply you gave, zeroing in on the exposed patch of skin above her knee. It was the only flaw that you could spot at first glance. It was the only thing about her that didn’t make you feel small.

“Oh,” Monica mumbled, gazing down at her leg. “Um, thanks for.. Letting me know?”

Your lips pulled into a toothy grin, “Anytime.”

“Alright, well..” Sevika’s sentence trailed off as she took a few steps toward her room.

“I ordered pizza, by the way!” You called, hoping to keep her there. Just for a few more moments. “It’s from that favorite place of yours on Eastern Avenue.”

Her lips twitched when she peered at you, halting her steps. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

An awkward drag of silence filtered in.

Suddenly, you were aware of Monica’s presence again. “It was nice meeting you… Melissa, is it?

A laugh track from The Nanny sounded. You don’t remember the TV being so loud.

“Monica.”

“Oh, right.” Your grin widened. “Monica. That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.”

When you tore your gaze away from her, Sevika was grinding her jaw, glowering at you.

Your teeth clenched through your smile, and it took all of your strength to keep from laughing. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Monica!”

She hummed quietly, seemingly offended. Sevika’s steps quickened.

Seconds later, her bedroom door slammed shut.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t bothered by the idea of Sevika having a girlfriend. But it's not for the reasons that someone would assume.

You don’t care that she’s interested in another woman. No, that’s the least of your worries. You totally don’t care about that at all.

She can date whoever she wants to date.

It’s none of your business. Plus, she’s merely your roommate. Nothing more.

What you do care about is the fact that Monica doesn’t seem right for Sevika. Even though you're still trying to figure out why you feel that way—it still rings true to you hours after meeting her.

When you walk into the kitchen every morning, you’re normally met with the sight of Sevika making toast. You greet Sevika, and she talks with you about everything going on in her life.

It’s a routine that the both of you have made.

But Monica disrupts that.

It begins with her standing in the kitchen beside Sevika the morning after she sleeps over. And she's eating toast.

Your toast.

Melodramatic or not, that’s your first straw.

“Hey,” Sevika smiles.

“Morning,” Monica chirps.

You’re tired, eyes half shut, bonnet nearly slipping off your head and lips chapped.

You try to muster up enough energy to be genial.

But that’s disregarded when you see Monica reaching for a burgundy mug with yellow daisies.

Your favorite mug.

Your eyes widen and your lips part.

“Oh,” Sevika mutters, swiftly grabbing the mug from Monica’s grasp. “That’s not yours.” She sets it down infront of her, before reaching for another mug and holding it towards Monica. It’s one that you rarely use. “This one is.”

Monica blinks owlishly, a little thrown off by Sevika’s quick interjection. But she takes the mug with nimble fingers, muttering, “Thanks.”

When you walk closer towards the island, Sevika tilts her head towards the daisy-ridden cup. It’s tea. “I hope it’s warm enough.” She says.

You’re groggy and still trying to recover from your fatigue. You had a late night. But you do have to admit that Monica’s presence doesn’t help your sour mood.

A part of you is aware that your dislike for Monica isn’t rational. But a bigger part of you doesn’t care.

“You look exhausted.” Sevika says.

You take a swig of tea. She’s made it exactly how you like it.

“My colleague’s been out of office for a while so,” You sigh. “I’m stuck with the brunt of her work.”

Sevika’s lip tightens. “That doesn’t sound ethical.”

“Probably not. But,” You shrug. “That’s the way it’s going to be for now.”

Another swig of your tea while silence envelops the room.

Monica rests her head against Sevika’s shoulder, nibbling on her toast absentmindedly. You allow your gaze to linger on her for a few moments. She's close to perfect. Clear skin, sleepy doe eyes, pouty lips.

You don't question how she's caught Sevika’s attention. Anyone would be enamored by Monica’s beauty.

That's something that you can at least acknowledge.

“Toast?” Sevika mutters, pulling you out of your reverie. When you glance at her, she’s waiting with a quizzical stare and quirk of her eyebrow. She's caught you staring and the better half of you feels the need to look rueful. But you settle for a small smile and shake of your head.

“No, I’m alright. I'm going to start some work soon.”

“Already?” Creases form in her forehead.

“Early bird gets the worm.”

You need a distraction. Sevika’s been taking up too much space in your brain lately. Especially since Monica is in the picture.

Work will help you recenter yourself—and it'll be nice to get out of the house.

“See you later,” Monica interjects. Her voice is much smaller, eyes trailing to you slowly with a tentative grin.

You find yourself halting, thrown off by her voice.

For a small, small moment, you had forgotten she was there.

Your eyes flicker to Sevika, who’s watching you with an incomprehensible expression. She rubs her lips together, creating the smallest craters in her cheeks. Cheeks that look quite soft to touch—to caress.

You blink away those thoughts before they have a chance to plant a seed of other desires into your mind.

Nodding, you manage to return Monica’s grin, “See you.”

Then you're heading back towards your bedroom.

Sometimes, Monica is with Sevika while she grocery shops.

Those are the instances that you wish, more than ever, you had tagged along with Sevika instead.

Those are the few moments that you feel a sudden desire to embark on errands that you usually hate.

It’s been a little over a month since you’ve met Monica, and Sevika certainly didn't wait long until she started having her way with the girl.

It’s not like Sevika isn't allowed to have sex. You should have known this would happen at some point. This is her home too. And she’s an adult. She can do whatever she wants in her room—with whoever she wants.

But it starts to become an issue when you hear it.

Initially, it makes you laugh a little. Sure, it’s a little uncomfortable and causes your stomach to knot in a nauseating way, but it’s also fairly comical. The night begins with you relaxing in your room, watching a Julia Roberts rom-com on your television, while eating a bowl of ice cream. A loud knocking noise erupts halfway through the movie, and is what makes you pause your movie.

Then, fervorous cries are heard seconds later.

“Fucking unbelievable,” You mutter, jaw falling slack.

You listen for a few moments while ice cream drips onto your cleavage. Then you frown at the sound of Monica wailing, passionately, “Oh Vika!” Which is followed by, “Oh my god. You're so good..Too good.”

Those words, within itself, are traumatic enough for you to press play on your remote and raise the television volume up to a thundering 40 decibels.

The next morning, when Monica is long gone, you sit in the living room with Sevika. She’s going over tattoo designs in her sketchbook, looking completely domestic in a pair of grey cotton sweats and a baby blue crewneck. You hate how enamored you are by the beauty of her brown skin, and how it seems to pair perfectly with the color of her sweatshirt.

Liza Manelli sings before you on the television screen—surely a choice of yours rather than Sevika. But your roommate always seems to be content with whatever you put on.

It's only when she glances up from her sketchbook, catching you mid-stare, when she truly looks at you for the first time that day. She’s been absent minded for the majority of the evening.

She sends you a smile, “Hi.” She addresses genially.

“Hey,” You swallow.

Then you take this opportunity as a cue to begin your complaint about the previous night. She’s in a good mood right now, and it’s better to hash it out sooner rather than later.

Sevika listens intently. And when you're done, she nods, presses her lips into a firm line before apologizing earnestly.

Of course, you accept her apology right away.

“All is well,” You respond.

Then, without more than a beat that passes, you find yourself adding, “Besides, from what I heard, it must have been worth it. You're too good, apparently.”

Sevika lips part, eyes darting to you with traces of shock. “Oh my god.”

“I mean,” A slow smile stretches across your face. “You're far, far too good.”

She groans. “I hate you.”

“Oh, Vika!” You mock, hand flying to your heart. You present your best impression of an impassioned Monica, voice lilting up to the same squeaky resonance as hers. “You're just…too-”

“Jesus. Shut up.”

You laugh because it's easier to laugh about it. At least when you do so, you aren't allowing yourself to focus on the nagging lump at the back of your throat.

Seconds pass before Sevika’s laughter joins you.

The next time Monica sleeps over is three days later. You find the pair slipping into the apartment late at night, hand-in-hand, while they steal quick kisses from each other. You're sitting in the dining room, watching it all unfold with a mug of tea in your hand.

“Fancy some tea?” You ask.

Monica screeches, jumping away from Sevika as her hand flies to her chest.

Your roommate halts her movements, turning towards you with a snap of her neck and a string of colorful words.

The lights flicker on.

“What the fuck?” Sevika grumbles.

“Sorry. I shouldn't have interrupted,” You raise your mug. “No need to stop on my account! I’ll head back to my ro-”

Deep lines etch into Sevika’s forehead. An incredulous expression paints her features. She shakes her head, almost out of pure disbelief. “Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?” Her grey irises flash with a hint of annoyance.

In all honesty, you had been scrolling through Facebook on your phone and must have lost track of time. You were having trouble sleeping again and your usual habit of music playing wasn't helping. So you decided to make yourself a cup of tea.

It’s past midnight; a time that Sevika is rarely out. If she does stay out this late, it’s because she's spending the night at Monica’s residence. You hadn't exactly expected either one of them to come walking through the door. But since they have, you might as well pick some fun.

You clench your teeth through a smile, trying your hardest to suppress your laughter. “So, I’m guessing that’s a no?” You clarify. “...To the tea?”

Monica seems to be coming down from her fright, staring at you with furrowing eyebrows and a frown. Sevika rolls her lips into her mouth, placing both hands on her hips as she gazes down at the floor and leans onto her heels. You can tell that you're trying her patience. You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.

From your articles of clothing laying around the house to the sound of your music playing late into the night—you've really been testing her. It’s something that you’ve found yourself doing ever since you overheard her and Monica having sex. An act of rebellion? Sure. Immaturity? Most definitely.

No matter how much you try to talk some sense into yourself, nothing can really dissolve the feelings that you have towards that night.

It’s affecting you deeper than you currently understand.

“You have a little something right…here,” You say, raising your hand to the corner of your mouth. Your observation is directed towards Monica, and she mirrors your actions, wiping away at her smudged lipstick. “Oh, you almost got it. Sev, why don't you help the poor girl out?”

Sevika hardens her gaze at you, a warning that you should probably heed.

A warning that you, instead, disregard.

Standing up, you grab your mug and add, “Last call for tea? Going once?”

Monica lets out a bitter chuckle, peering at you under her lids before muttering something under her breath. She shakes her head, directing her attention to her nail beds.

“Twice?” You turn towards Sevika, who remains unamused. “Well, you can't say I didn't offer.”

You're not sure why that exactly makes Sevika snap.

Any other day, she'd happily say yes.

But tonight, you’ve seemed to provoke her.

Instead of being met with her charming smile, you're inflicted with the sight of steel eyes and hard lines.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” She doesn't wait for you to respond, instead, turning on her heels and walking towards the living room.

You follow after her, without so much as a glance towards Monica.

“What is it?” You ask, the moment that you step into the kitchen. You're barely able to get the question out before Sevika flips around, nearly knocking straight into you.

You stumble backwards, attempting to regain your balance, as your head tilts back to meet her gaze.

There’s something about the way that Sevika towers over you that makes you feel emotions you’ve never experienced before.

You generally don't like to be around people who diminish you; who make you feel small. Despite the obvious height difference, Sevika’s never been the type of woman who’s made you feel like that—even with all of your insecurities considered.

But even in that moment, it’s almost as if she could swallow you whole.

As if she could consume you.

Even with all of her fiery anger considered…

Even with—

“What's your problem?” Her question comes out cold and harsh.

It takes a lot of effort for you to not flinch. You aren't used to her having such an attitude with you—this is something completely new.

“My problem?” Your response is akin to someone being deeply insulted. You don't even try to hide your anger. “Am I not allowed to enjoy some tea in my dining room, for Christ’s sa-”

“That's not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“I don't know what else you could be referring to.” Your arms fold across your chest while your wall of defense grows a foot taller. “Is it because I scared you? Scared her? I didn't think you’d be home. I assumed you would be at her place.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

Your lips purse as you roll your eyes. “...Don't know what you're talking about.”

“It's not like I haven't noticed it—she notices it. The way that you are around her…” Sevika tilts her head. “Are you trying to scare her away? Do you not like her? Because if so, I’d suggest that you say whatever the hell you need to say instead of acting like a teenager.”

Her breath mingles with yours, eyes flickering over your face with urgency. Looking. Searching for something.

Then she’s pulling away, putting space between the both of you as she leans against the kitchen island.

Her attention diverts to the surface of the countertop, shoulders heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

Although you probably asked for it, the effect of her words still land on your heartstrings, tugging painfully. Your ears ring and your gut twists.

“I ran out of my ambien.” You announce, voice taut. “So if you fuck her tonight, will you be a dear and do so quietly?”

You set your mug in the sink, but with more strength than you intend, so it falls over with a loud clatter. Out of the corner of your eye, Sevika startles at the sound.

When you walk past her, her hand that is closest to you twitches. Then it moves, as if she’s reaching to stop you, but you're already swatting her away.

“Don't,” You say, just loud enough for her to hear.

Her hand falls. She concedes. A low curse slips from her mouth, but you don't stay around long enough to address it.

Instead, the apartment remains silent for a few breaths as you slip back into your bedroom and ignore the cruel echo of regret.

#au writing #fanfic #piscespetals writing #sevika #sevika x reader #arcane au #arcane netflix #fluff #why are gays like this #roommate!sevika #divorced!sevika #sevika fic

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