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[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (4)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan wants to clear things up about the night out and his mystery companion, and the reader gets another surprise in LA. Will the two finally have their first date or will something get in the way once more?

Ewan's publicist Donna has never had any issue with her client before. Always present and accounted for, on time for whatever interview, photoshoot or audition he has booked for the day.

But she hasn't been able to get a hold of him in the past two days, which is worrying her to no end, because he is set to meet with a major casting director in New York some time in the coming week.

Donna may have a clue as to why. It's only been two days as well since the pub incident, when The Sun ran a story speculating on Ewan's lovelife - the exact kind of thing he's always been trying to avoid.

It had taken a life of its own, with fans taking it upon themselves to track down every clue of the girl on the internet. Her instagram. Her relation to the cast - apparently she is a cousin of Luke and Elliott. Even the marketing agency where she works. Louise, a 26-year old graphic designer, admittedly harbours a crush on Ewan, and when she heard that her cousins were hanging out with him at a pub nearby, she almost immediately invited herself and her friends over.

But that's all, according to Ewan. After talking to Luke, memories of the night came rushing back to him.

Stumbling out in the alley to send you that voice message. Rejoining the boys to see that they've got new company. Being introduced to Louise, with Tom joking that he should be careful with the missus. Wouldn't want her - you - to think that he's flirting with anyone else.

Even though that's exactly what happened. Not the flirting, per se. Not from Ewan's side, at least. Louise had been brazen with admiration, barely leaving his side the rest of the night. Asking him a bunch of probing questions he had neither the interest nor the patience to answer.

They had all thought the pub was safe from prying eyes. No one approached them for anything, not even a single look of recognition followed by the question, “Are you that guy from House of the Dragon?” Unfortunately, it only takes one rat for a headline to surface. Ewan Mitchell’s mystery girl has been the talk of the fandom and Donna has been trying hard to quell the rumours. 

Such is the nasty nature of the business, as she knows Ewan has quickly learned.

She dials him again, and to her surprise, the call actually patches through.

Her client's throaty voice is heard on the other line, "Hey, Donna, sorry if I've missed your calls."

"It's alright, it's alright, Ewan," Donna stammers. "Just glad to hear from you. Where are you? I've managed to do some damage control about those rumours and - "

"Oh, I'm in LA. I just landed about an hour ago," Ewan responds casually, not mirroring the stress in Donna's tone. Has he gotten over the fuss so easily?

"LA? You know your meeting is not till next week, right? And it's in New York. It's very, very important that you don't miss it, Ewan."

"And I won't," Ewan affirms, laughing dryly to console his worried publicist. "I just need to see about something over here."

Someone, he thinks. He's got his priorities straight.

"Work-related?" Donna asks, curious.

"Uhhhm," Ewan dithers, but decides against telling her about you. Not just yet. "Just visiting a friend. I'll stay here for a while then fly out to New York, don't worry."

"Okay, just keep in touch, alright? I'll send more details about the meeting soon."

"Sure thing. Thank you, Donna."

"Talk soon, Ewan. Take care of yourself."

Donna feels a huge sense of relief wash over her when the call ends, knowing the whereabouts of one of her biggest clients. But why LA? Perhaps Ewan just needed some time off after the flurry of annoying headlines put out in the UK.

Or maybe he's visiting with a friend? Who is stateside right now? Fabien's filming in Philly. The rest of the boys are still in England. But then...

Her thoughts land on the one thing - the one person - that would make him fly out on such short notice. Without giving thought to anything else, especially after the speculation on his romantic life.

Ewan's never been one to share about personal affairs, not even to his close-knit team, but no matter how reclusive he is, no one can deny the way he looks at you. The way he lights up when you're brought up in conversation. The number of times he had excused himself from their meetings to make a call, standing in the corner with a permanent smile etched on his face.

Oh, Donna knows now just who he is in LA for.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Like inevitable spectres haunting someone of his profession, Ewan noticed the papparazzi snapping away as he arrived in LA.

He told no one he would be coming, so it must be an automatic thing in the city. The photogs are always scurrying in the periphery, ready to catch anyone of note, no matter the degree of fame or notoriety.

If you were keeping up with such news, you would know he is in the city.

But according to your assistant Clara, who was kind enough to inform him of your schedule, you are still finishing up on another day of rehearsals for your upcoming rom-com. Ewan checked in the same hotel as you, planning to seek you out as soon as you arrive back from work.

He hasn't spoken to you since the voicemail, and since those false news broke out. Not that he can blame you - wouldn't anyone be suspicious of a drunken confession made by a guy who was allegedly in the company of another girl?

He hates it, being subject to all of this. This nonsense that is keeping you from him, not even worth any consequence.

But he will deal with the blows. As long as he sets things right with you. As long he gets you in the end.

He settles in his suite, getting ready to meet with you once more. He showers, shaves, tousles his hair. He even checks whether he smells decent after all of that - once, twice, and another time. Being nervous to stand in front of a crowd is one thing; it's a whole other conundrum for him finally see you again.

Maybe the crowds are more manageable, and it baffles him to realise so. He can put on a persona, be the actor, and disappear inside himself as the cameras flash bright enough for him to disassociate.

But not with you. He wants to show you everything that he is, who he truly is, and it scares him. There is no team to help him get ready now. It's all him, just Ewan.

Clad in his trusty black jeans and a comfortable hoodie of the same dark colour, he looks in the mirror one last time after receiving a text from Clara that you've arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago.

He contemplates opening the bottle of bourbon from the minibar and taking a shot of liquid courage - something to help him get his explanation ready. Just so he wouldn't stammer in front of you.

Just so you he can make you see, without any error or trace of doubt, that he meant every word in that voicemail, no matter how embarrassing it might have sounded.

He decides against it, imagining the wrinkling of your nose as you catch a whiff of the alcohol. It's cute when you do it, and he adores it so dearly, but he knows that it isn't the right moment.

He rights himself, rolls his shoulders, and he's out the door.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Jacob trails you inside your hotel suite, laughing at some shared remark about the scenes you rehearsed for the day.

They were emotionally demanding and even after tossing around ideas for hours, the two of you were unable to achieve a satisfying approach to the scenes.

Which is why he had proposed practicing well into the evening, and you found yourselves heading back to your suite together. He has his own house in LA, but your hotel just happened to be closer to the rehearsal studio.

"Care for a drink?" you asked him.

"Why the hell not?" he immediately assents in that easy, Aussie drawl. "We might need it for this shite."

You laugh in agreement, "Indeed. I've got some canned gin and tonics if that's alright.. or beer... or whiskey... " you trail off as you study the contents of your fridge.

"G and t, please, mate," he settles down on the couch, legs stretching in front of him. "We were so unproductive today. I just could not get that line right."

"Tell me about it." You hand him his drink, and he clinks it with yours with a mumbled cheers. "It was me who can't land the right tone," you say. "I mean, is my character supposed to be confused in that moment? Or angry? Or sad?"

"Or all of 'em." he shrugs. "Tricky, isn't it?"

You hurriedly fetch your script from a table, getting right down to it. "So for the first scene in the third act..."

Moments later, with cans of gin and tonic discarded on the coffee table, you and Jacob sit with legs crossed on the couch facing each other. Scripts in hand, you go through the lines over and over, with only seemingly minor tweaks each time. To an actor though, even just the slightest change of pitch or expression makes all the difference.

"Is that better? I think we almost got it," you say after a read-through.

"Yeah, so much better," he grins, holding his hand up for a high-five. Just as your hands smack in the air, another sound echoes faintly from the door.

"Someone's knocking?" Jacob asks. "You expecting anybody? Room service or anything?"

"No," you shake your head, trying to think of whether your assistant or publicist said anything about dropping by. "Maybe it's just housekeeping?"

"I'll get it," Jacob states, already padding his way to the door.

A beat later, you hear Jacob loudly exclaim, "Ewan, mate! It's good to see you!"

Ewan? A shiver runs up your spine. Craning your neck to get a view of a doorway, you catch sight of him, half-obscured by Jacob's tall frame.

Confused, surprised, and feeling some other emotion you can't pinpoint, you head over to greet him.

"How are you doing?" Jacob greets, shaking Ewan's hand, oblivious to the poorly hidden distaste in his eyes.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ewan finds himself asking Jacob, a bit rudely, just as you ask him the same.

"What are you doing here?" you mirror his question at the exact same time.

"Oh!" Jacob breathes out a laugh, "Well, I'll go first. We were just practicing lines."

"In her room? Isn't it a bit late for rehearsal? I thought you're supposed to be off work." Ewan asks, and it sounds like an accusation. He starts to feel all kinds of uneasy - were the twins right about life imitating art?

You narrow your eyes at him. "We decided to continue running lines after rehearsal. There's a scene we can't get right. It's quite tricky - "

"Just the two of you? Alone, here?" Ewan tilts his head, gesturing towards the room like it's some forbidden place.

Jacob shakes his head, smile steady on his lips. If he's caught on to how Ewan must be feeling, he doesn't let it affect him. He gives you a look, as if to check your reaction, and you give him a reassuring shrug.

Ewan does not overlook this exchange. He clenches his jaw, irate from the assumptions popping up in his mind. Before he forgets his manners, he says, "Excuse me, I just... wasn't expecting... I just wanted to speak to you."

"I didn't even know you were in LA," you say, before moving aside to usher him in. "But I'm glad you are, of course. Come join us - "

He nods, making his way to the seating area, where he spies the discarded cans of alcohol and dog-eared scripts. Maybe he should have taken that bloody shot after all.

He laughs joylessly to himself, shaking his head. "Sorry, you guys. I just flew in today, and I must have been exhausted from the flight."

"Hey, no worries, mate," Jacob says. "You know what, I'll be on my way. Give you time to catch up and all." He picks up his own tattered script then gives you a kiss on the cheek, bidding you with a, "I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, sweetheart."

If looks could kill, and if his dear mother hadn't raised him right, he would have incinerated Jacob in that moment.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when Jacob claps him on the shoulder, "Great to see you again, mate. Have a good night, eh?"

Ewan knows he's being ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with two friends and co-stars spending some time alone to rehearse. Besides, last he heard, you were adamant that you and Jacob are just friends.

So why is he being so irrational? Why does the idea of you spending more time than necessary with Jacob, possibly falling for him, bother him so much?

Ewan realises that this is what jealousy must feel like.

He's had career envy before. Another actor landing a role he vied for. Someone else getting the praise he deserves.

But nothing like this. It's petty and possessive.

He wants you to just be his.

You stand in front of him once more after you walk Jacob out of the suite.

"Hey," you say, smiling weakly.

"Hi, darling."

Both of you want to do more. Say more. Usually you would greet each other with a hug and a kiss on a cheek, his hands lingering on your forearms even after you pull away, but the air is thick with tension.

You look at him with those bright, expecting eyes of yours, and Ewan just wants to cave in and make a sloppy confession. But not after that voicemail, no. He's determined to do this right. Words not slurred, head clear.

"So I got your voicemail," you finally say, smiling coyly. "That was... something."

"Hmm," he can't help but mirror your smile, as always. "It was, wasn't it?"

"I understand," you continue, taking a step closer, "if you were drunk. We all say things when we're off it that we maybe don't mean - "

"But darling, I meant every word," he says, way too quickly.

You laugh, the sound of it erasing whatever apprehension remained in him. "Do you even remember what you said?"

"I do," he counters, moving even closer to you. Another step and he'd be able to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. "At least, some of - no - most of it."

"Oh yeah?" you ask cheekily, aided by the effect of gin. He still has your heart racing, but a part of you now knows that the feeling is mutual. "What did you say again?"

He sees that glint in your eye, and it causes him to smirk. "Why don't I make it simple for you, darling?" He closes the distance, one hand brushing the hair from your face.

"Okay," you swallow, getting lost in his blues.

"I missed you." He kisses your cheek. "I like you. A lot." He kisses the other. "And I, uh, I would like to take you on a date."

His eyes meet yours. His voice is steady, but you notice some nervousness in his gaze. How the tables have turned. You make Ewan Mitchell's heart go awry.

"Please, darling?" he timidly adds, the sentiment so sweet you want to blurt out yes immediately. Before you can, he's already leaned back, an explanation rushing out of his lips, "And... I'm not sure but you must have seen those headlines? They're not true, I swear. We were out drinking and - "

"I know, Ewan." You cut him off with a hand pressed gently on his chest but he keeps going.

" - some other people joined us. One of them being - "

"Luke and Elliott's cousin. I know. Elliott called and told me everything."

"Oh. He called you?" A huge sense of relief washes over him, better than any comfort he might have found in a shot or three of bourbon.

"Mhmm, he called me yesterday. So, you know, you didn't really have to fly out. I was about to call you eventually."

He smiles bashfully, eyes cast down as a blush spreads across his cheeks. Damn it, Elliott, you brilliant lad. He reminds himself to treat Elliott to a pint the next time he sees him.

"I still wanted to see you," Ewan maintains, pressing a kiss to your forehead and you're immediately enveloped by the familiar comfort of his scent. Surprisingly without the staple hint of cigarette smoke, due to his frantic scrubbing after the flight.

"I'm happy you're here," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. "And no offence to Louise or anything, but she needs to learn some boundaries with my - "

Ewan looks down at you fondly, squeezing your arms to prompt your next words, "Yeah, darling? Your what?"

"My - " you attempt to bury your face in his hoodie, but he keeps your gaze with a hand cupping your jaw. So you end up saving yourself with " - my Aemond."

"Hmm," he hums, lips curling, and it's so very Aemond of him it makes you feel warm all over. "Your Aemond.Your Ewan. I'm all yours, love."

The whole thing couldn't have gone any better, all things considered, and Ewan feels content to have gotten over his first brush with the rumour mill. What matters is right in front of him, and you know the truth.

"Are you staying in this hotel? How did you even know I was here?" You take his hand, guiding him over to the couch.

"Clara," is all Ewan says by way of explanation.

"Well, thank you, Clara," you declare. Ewan shuffles closer to you and rests his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your forehead again. The gesture is already becoming instinctive, providing the both of you with a sense of ease.

"Darling?"

"Yeah?" you respond absentmindedly, fingers toying with the soft fabric of his hoodie.

"Is that a yes?"

You exhale deeply. As if it wasn't clear enough already. "What do you think, handsome?"

"I don't know, angel. You tell me," he counters cheekily, his fingers playing with your hair as you playfully glare at him.

"What if I say no, baby?"

"Then I'll have to work hard to change your mind, princess."

"And how would you do that, honey?"

His gaze darkens, and something flashes across his blue eyes as he whispers intensely, "Use your imagination, bunny."

"Ri-right," you bite your lip, then shake your head to snap out of it. "We'll have to draw the line at bunny."

He laughs at your flustered state, pleased by the effect he has on you. "What's wrong with bunny?"

That elicits a groan out of you, but you smile anyway. "I already said yes, Ewan. Quit it with the bunny."

"Alright, beautiful," he relents, making you lean even closer against him.

The haze of gin after a long work day starts to subside and the rush of emotion is coming back to you. You find yourself gazing at Ewan in mild disbelief, in awe that he just confessed that he wants you.

Feeling antsy, you stand and pace around the room. You start tidying things, putting your scattered knick-knacks back in your handbag. If you sit with him any longer, you just might end up hurrying things through and jump his bones already, kiss him the next time he does that hmm.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

"No," he says smoothly. "I just need you." The words make you stop in your tracks. He still sits in the same position, looking at you with that undeniable desire in his eyes.

"Uhhhm," your mouth feels dry all of the sudden. Nothing his tongue past your lips can't fix, your intrusive thoughts barge right in. "So... the... the media rollout's still going on isn't it? Should we check and see?" You take your laptop and plop back down next to him. He doesn't miss a beat and cuddles against you once more, wrapping his arm around your tense frame.

"I think so, darling." The media rollout is how the interviews and promotional material filmed by the cast is being released gradually, on a weekly basis, after each new episode comes out.

A simple search on Youtube confirms it, and the first thing that popped up is the Where is The Lie? video you did for Elle.

It was slated for just Tom, Phia, and Ewan but your Blackwood character became such a fan-favourite that they asked you to join in. Not to mention the frenzy you and Ewan caused online with the initial interviews you did together.

"Shall we watch this?" Ewan offers, solely for the intent of seeing you in the video.

You click on it, and for the next 8 minutes or so, all you can take note of are the signs that had clearly already been there. The fans were on to something when they claimed that you and Ewan are a really good ship.

The video starts with a clip of Phia hitting her head on the overhead lamp when she stands, prompting her to uncontrollably giggle along with you and Tom. Ewan, being the exception, is beside himself with worry, and he appears to instinctively reach for your hand as you sit beside him.

"Huh," Ewan smiles, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

Tom is the first to be put on the hot seat, and he slowly recites the three statements he prepared. "Ewan, pay attention," Tom blurts out when he notices that Ewan kept sneaking glances at you. "Sure, I'm locked in," Ewan says right back, as you and Phia share a look.

"What were you looking at?" you ask playfully, poking him in the side. "You seem plenty distracted there."

He snorts at himself in the video, when he ends up smiling as he caught your eye. "It was your fault. You were distracting me."

"I was not!" you exclaim. "I thought you were just being competitive then."

Phia is next to have a go. She tells you of a Wifi repellent necklace, a wrestling career, and saving a squirrel from a drainpipe. "The Wifi thing sounds like something Ewan would have," Tom jokes. "Oh sure," you concur, "except that he'd actually keep it so he can watch films." Ewan smiles at your acute observation.

"I'd also keep it to stalk your Instagram," Ewan mumbles from beside you. "And you know, just stalk you in general."

"I'm sure you do, Mitchell," you respond casually, but your face warms up anyhow.

It's Ewan's turn, and as he sits on the hot seat, you see Tom and Phia casting a look at each other then at the two of you, a secret message shared between them. "I bet she will know the answer right away," Phia says. "Yeah, how do we know the two of you didn't conspire together?" Tom asks. "Are you kidding me, you guys?" you laugh at them, thinking how silly they were being, not knowing then that they were definitely on to something.

"Darling, you have to know this," Ewan tells you specifically as you all try to guess the answer. "Oh, darling!" Tom mouths to Phia, dramatically flipping nonexistent long hair over his shoulder. Phia laughs at his antics, before nudging you and saying, "Which one is it? Which is the lie? I trust you." You respond, "Why me? You two should know this too!"

"Because I wasn't trying to date them, my love," Ewan says, smiling at the screen.

"Oh, come on now." You crane your neck up to press a soft kiss against his cheek before turning your attention back to the video. So you don't notice the switch in Ewan's breathing. The jumps in his heartbeart. The way he subtly clears his throat to deal with his flustered state.

The video comes to a close after your turn and even at the very end, Ewan can be seen admiring you as you give the closing remarks with Phia.

Admiring you, as he does in the moment.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he says, when you turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you reply softly, your voice barely audible.

Some time passes with the two of you catching up, talking about your upcoming projects, his big meeting in New York - all the while his fingers trace patterns on your exposed skin, his arm wrapped around you snugly.

"Have you been keeping up with the show?" he asks.

"The last episode I saw fully was... the second one? I got pretty busy after that. How about you?"

"Oh," he looks down in thought, piquing your curiosity, "so you didn't get to see the third episode yet then?"

"No, not yet," you shake your head, "but I've seen some stuff here and there."

He hums again and he wants to ask, have you seen his stuff? There are around a dozen or so potential jokes at play here. He has an inkling to tell you to watch the episode so you can see just what you're in for. So you can see him and all he has to offer. He'd also fumble through a justification, as he had done in some interview, about the new studio they had filmed in being cold as a fridge freezer.

What to say? What to say? He picks at some lint on his jeans, smirking to himself.

"Yeah," you eventually giggle at his obvious hesitation. "I've only seen some of the episode. But what I've seen... is enough to make me jealous of Madame Sylvie."

He stiffens, throat suddenly dry, but one look at your smile does away with his concerns.

He soon finds himself laughing, a muffled, "Oh, darling," whispered lovingly against your hair.

"That was very brave of you, Ewan," you express sincerely.

"Thank you, love."

"So... just how cold was it in there?"

Your shared, unrestrained laughter echo throughout the room.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Your first date was meant to happen the following night, but such is the nature of the job that Ewan's schedule gets moved up all of a sudden.

Once the bigshot casting director in New York found out that Ewan is already stateside, he requested that the meeting be held at the earliest possible opportunity.

He calls you while you are in rehearsals, profusely apologizing and promising to fly back to LA in the next two days, right after his meeting is all sorted.

"It's okay, Ewan," you reassure him, genuinely understanding. "I will see you when you come back. Good luck, I know you're going to smash it, whatever opportunity this is!"

"Thank you, darling," he says, already wanting to have you back in his arms already, mentally kicking himself for not kissing you when he had about a hundred chances to do so. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," you respond, blushing silly with the phone pressed to your ear. "But it'll only be two days."

"Hmm, doesn't matter. I need to take you on our bloody date, darling. I've already taken so damn long."

"Don't worry," you say, "I've already seen you way more than I should before the first date."

"Wha - " a protest forms on his lips, but he gets your point right away. "Oh. Clever, darling."

"I know."

"But I'm planning to give you something that's just for you. That the whole world won't ever be privy to."

You swallow hard, your very being heating up at his insinuation. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mitchell."

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Bonus chapter!

Nocturnal file 🤫

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The cast's Where is The Lie? video is an actual thing! I hope yous got the reference!

Notice how the two nerve-wrecked shites didn't have their first proper kiss yet??? Will they ever?? 😩😩😩

Taglist is officially closed for this one. Please bookmark this series or the masterlist (or follow my page) to keep up with updates <3

I can't even overstate how mad all the love for this series has been! I'm always looking forward to hearing from you guys - suggestions, comments, complaints are always welcome!

See you in part five! (preview: something will happen in NY that might cause Ewan to question things!)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A profoundly stupid case about video game cheating could transform adblocking into a copyright infringement

I'm coming to DEFCON! On Aug 9, I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On Aug 10, I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Here's a weird consequence of our societal shift from capitalism (where riches come from profits) to feudalism (where riches come from rents): increasingly, your rights to your actual property (the physical stuff you own) are trumped by corporations' metaphorical "intellectual property" claims.

That's a lot to unpack! Let's start with a quick primer on profits and rents. Capitalists invest money in buying equipment, then they pay workers wages to use that equipment to produce goods and services. Profit is the sum a capitalist takes home from this arrangement: money made from paying workers to do productive things.

Now, rents: "rent" is the money a rentier makes by owning a "factor of production": something the capitalist needs in order to make profits. Capitalists risk their capital to get profits, but rents are heavily insulated from risk.

For example: a coffee shop owner buys espresso machines, hires baristas, and rents a storefront. If they do well, the landlord can raise their rent, denying them profits and increasing rents. But! If a great new cafe opens across the street and the coffee shop owner goes broke, the landlord is in great shape, because they now have a vacant storefront they can rent, and they can charge extra for a prime location across the street from the hottest new coffee shop in town.

The "moral philosophers" that today's self-described capitalists claim to worship – Adam Smith, David Ricardo – hated rents. For them, profits were the moral way to get rich, because when capitalists chase profits, they necessarily chase the production of things that people want.

When rentiers chase rents, they do so at the expense of profits. Every dollar a capitalist pays in rent – licenses for IP, rent for a building, etc – is a dollar that can't be extracted in profit, and then reinvested in the production of more goods and services that society desires.

The "free markets" of Adam Smith weren't free from regulation, they were free from rents.

The moral philosophers' hatred of rents was really a hatred of feudalism. The industrial revolution wasn't merely (or even primarily) the triumph of new machines: rather, it was the triumph of profits over rent. For the industrial revolution to succeed, the feudal arrangement had to end. Capitalism is incompatible with hereditary lords receiving guaranteed rents from hereditary serfs who are legally obliged to work for them. Capitalism triumphed over feudalism when the serfs were turned off of the land (becoming the "free labor" who went to work in the textile mills) and the land itself was given over to sheep grazing (providing the wool for those same mills).

But that doesn't mean that the industrial revolution invented profits. Profits were to be found in feudal societies, wherever a wealthy person increased their wealth by investing in machines and hiring workers to use them. The thing that made feudalism feudal was how conflicts between rents and profits cashed out. For so long as the legal system elevated the claims of rentiers over the claims of capitalists, the society was feudal. Once the legal system gave priority to profit over rent, it became capitalist.

Capitalists hate capitalism. The engine of capitalism is insecurity. The successful capitalist is like the fastest gun in the old west: there's always a young gun out there looking to "disrupt" their fortune with a new invention, product, or organizational strategy that "creatively destroys" the successful businesses of the day and replaces them with new ones:

https://locusmag.com/2024/03/cory-doctorow-capitalists-hate-capitalism/

That's a hard way to live, with your every success serving as a blinking KICK ME sign visible to every ambitious person in the world. Precarity makes people miserable and nuts:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/19/make-them-afraid/#fear-is-their-mind-killer

So capitalists universally aspire to become rentiers and investors seek out companies that have a plan to extract rent. This is why Warren Buffett is so priapatic for companies with "moats and walls" – legal privileges and market structures that protect the business from competition and disruption:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/warren-buffett-explains-moat-principle-164442359.html

Feudal rents were mostly derived from land, but even in the feudal era, the king was known to reward loyal lickspittles with rents over ideas. The "patents royal" were the legally protected right to decide who could make or do certain things: for example, you might have a patent royal over the production of silver ribbon, and anyone who wanted to make a silver ribbon would have to pay for your permission. If you chose to grant that permission exclusively to one manufacturer, then no one else could make it, and you could charge a license fee to the manufacturer that accounted for nearly all their profit.

Today, rentiers are also interested in land. Bill Gates is the country's number one landowner, and in many towns, private equity landlords are snappinig up every single family home that hits the market and converting it to a badly maintained slum:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/22/koteswar-jay-gajavelli/#if-you-ever-go-to-houston

But the 21st Century's defining source of rent is "IP" – a controversial term that I use here to mean, "Any law or policy that allows a company to exert legal control over its competitors, critics and customers":

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

IP is in irreconcilable conflict with real property rights. Think of HP selling you a printer and wanting to decide which ink you use, or John Deere selling you a tractor and wanting to tell you who can fix it. Or, for that matter, Apple selling you a phone and dictating which software you are allowed to install on it.

Think of Unity, a company that makes tools for video-game makers, demanding a royalty from every game that is eventually sold, calling this "shared success":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/03/not-feeling-lucky/#fundamental-laws-of-economics

Every time one of these conflicts ends with IP's triumph over real property rights, that is a notch in favor of calling the world we live in now "technofeudalist" rather than "technocapitalist":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Once you start to think of "IP" as "laws that let me control how other people use their real property," a lot of the seemingly incoherent fights over IP snap into place. This also goes a long way to explaining how otherwise sensible people can agree on expansions of IP to achieve some short-term goal, irrespective of the spillover harms from such a move. Hard cases make bad law, and hard IP cases make terrible law.

Five years ago, some anti-fascist counterdemonstrators hit on the clever idea of blaring top 40 music during neo-Nazi marches, on the theory that this would prevent Nazis from uploading videos of their marches to Youtube and other platforms, whose filters would block any footage that included copyrighted music:

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/07/23/clever-hack-that-will-end-badly-playing-copyrighted-music-during-nazis-rallies-so-they-cant-be-posted-to-youtube/

Thankfully, this didn't work, but not for lack of trying. And it might still work, if calls for beefing up video copyright filters are heeded. Cops all over the place are already blaring Taylor Swift songs and Disney tunes to prevent their interactions with the public from being uploaded:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/07/moral-hazard-of-filternets/#dmas

The same thinking that causes progressives to recklessly argue in favor of upload filters also causes them to demand that web scraping be treated as a copyright crime. They think they're creating a world where AI companies can't rip off their creation to train a model; they're actually creating a world where the Internet Archive can't capture JD Vance's embarrassing old podcast appearances or newspaper editorial boards' advocacy for positions they now recant:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

It's not that Nazi marches are good, or that scraping can't be bad – it's just that advocating for the use of IP to address either is a cure that's not just worse than the disease – it's also not a cure.

A problem can be real, and still not be solvable with IP. I have enormous sympathy for gamers who rail against cheaters who use aftermarket hacks to improve their aim, see through buildings, or command other unfair advantages.

If you want to tell a stranger how they must configure their PC or console, IP ("any law that lets you control your competitors, critics or customers") is an obvious answer. But – as with other attempts to solve real problems with IP – this is a cure that is both worse than the disease, and also not a cure after all.

Back in 2002, Blizzard sued some hobbyists over a program called "bnetd." Bnetd was a program that provided a game-server you could connect to with the Blizzard games that you'd bought. It was created as an alternative to Battlenet, Blizzard's notoriously unreliable game-server software that left gamers frustrated and furious due to frequent outages:

https://www.eff.org/cases/blizzard-v-bnetd

To the public, Blizzard made several arguments against bnetd. They claimed that it encouraged piracy, because – unlike the official Battlenet servers – it didn't check whether the copies of Blizzard software that connected to it had a valid license key. Gamers didn't really care about that, but they did respond to another argument: that bnetd lacked the anti-cheat checking of Battlenet.

But that wasn't what Blizzard took to the court: in court, they argued that the hobbyists who made bnetd violated copyright law. Specifically, Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, which bans "circumvention of access controls to copyrighted works." Basically, Blizzard argued that bnetd's authors violated the law because they used debuggers to examine the software they'd paid for, while it ran on their own computers, to figure out how to make a game server of their own.

Blizzard didn't sue bnetd's authors for pirating Blizzard software (they didn't – they'd paid for their copies). They didn't sue them for abetting other gamers' piracy. They certainly didn't sue them for making a cheat-friendly game-server.

Blizzard sued them for analyzing software they'd paid for, while it was running on their own computers.

Imagine if Walmart – one of the biggest book-retailers in America – had a policy that said that you could only shelve the books you bought at Walmart on shelves that you also bought at Walmart. Now imagine that Walmart successfully argued that measuring the books you bought from them and using those measurements to create your own compatible book-case violated their IP rights!

This is an outrageous triumph of IP rights over real property rights, and yet gamers vocally backed Blizzard in the early noughts, because gamers hate cheaters and because IP law is (correctly) understood as "the law that lets a company tell you how you can use your own real, physical property." Hard cases make bad law, hard IP cases make batshit law.

It's more than 20 years since bnetd, and cheating continues to serve as a Trojan horse to smuggle in batshit new IP laws. In Germany, Sony is suing the cheat-device maker Datel:

https://torrentfreak.com/sonys-ancient-lawsuit-vs-cheat-device-heads-in-right-direction-sonys-defeat-240705/

Sony argues that the Datel device – which rewrites the contents of a player's device's RAM, at the direction of that player – infringes copyright. Sony claims that the values that its programs write to your device's RAM chips are copyrighted works that it has created, and that altering that copyrighted work makes an unauthorized derivative work, which infringes its copyright.

Yes, this is batshit, and thankfully, Sony has been thwarted in court to date, but it is steaming ahead to the EU's highest court. If it succeeds, then it will open up every tool that modifies your computer at your direction to this kind of claim.

How bad can it be? Well, get this: the German publishing giant Axel Springer (owned by a monomaniacal Trumpist and Israel hardliner who has ordered journalists in his US news outlets to go easy on both) is suing Eyeo, makers of Adblock Plus, on the grounds that changing HTML to block an ad creates a "derivative work" of Axel Springer's web-pages:

https://torrentfreak.com/ad-blocking-infringes-copyright-ancient-sony-cheat-lawsuit-may-prove-pivotal-240729/

Axel Springer's filings cite the Sony/Datel case, using it to argue that their IP rights trump your property rights, and that you can only configure your web-browser, running on your computer, which you own, in ways that it approves of.

Axel Springer's war on browsers is a particularly pernicious maneuver, because browsers are the best example we have of internet software that serves as a "user agent." "User agent" is an old-timey engineering synonym for "browser" that reflects the browser's role: to go out onto the web on your behalf and bring back things for you, which it displays in the way you prefer:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

Want to block flickering GIFs to forestall photosensitive epileptic servers? Ask your user agent to find and delete them. Want to shift colors into a gamut that accounts for your color-blindness? Ask your user-agent:

https://dankaminsky.com/2010/12/15/dankam/

Want to goose the font size and contrast so you can read the sadistic grey-on-white type that young designers use in the mistaken belief that black-on-white type is "hard on the eyes"? That's what Reader Mode is for:

https://frankgroeneveld.nl/2021/08/24/most-underused-browser-feature/

The foundation of any good digital relationship is a device that works for you, not for the people who own the servers you connect to. Even if they don't plan on screwing you over by directing your user agent to attack you on their behalf right now, the very existence of a facility in your technology that causes it to betray you, by design, is a moral hazard that inevitably results in your victimization:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

"IP" ("a law that lets me control how you use your own property") is a tempting solution to every problem, but ultimately, IP ends up magnifying the power of the already powerful, in contests where your only hope of victory is having a user agent whose only loyalty is to you.

The monotonic, dangerous expansion of IP reflects the growing victory of rents over profits – income from owning things, rather than income from doing things. Everyday people may argue for IP in the belief that it will solve their immediate problems – with AI, or Nazis, or in-game cheats – but ultimately, the expansion of a law that limits how you can use your property (including your capital) to uses that don't threaten neofeudalists will doom you to technoserfdom.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

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/2024/07/29/faithful-user-agents/#hard-cases-make-bad-copyright-law

[thewriteblrlibrary]

A Step-by-Step Marketing Guide so we can spite traditional publishers (and make people cry).

~ This is a guide specific for fiction/writeblr. All of this is for free and there is little social media posting/ads involved (unless you want to venture into that). ~

Within the writeblr spheres, there's this underlying hope that our stories will find their audience. Perhaps we'll have a fandom full of fanart and video essays, or maybe we'll be an instant classic and sit on collectors' beloved bookshelves. Our stories could sit within the deepest corners of someone's heart and maybe they never tell a soul about what's so special to them. Maybe our stories become those 'underrated masterpieces'.

Or we just want to see people ugly cry over our writing.

Whatever your hope may be, marketing is an important path to venture on (especially because traditional publishers are rejecting diverse books in favor of ones that are already famous + the whole sub-par machine thing they seem obsessed with.)

And thus, my childhood marketing obsession will hopefully be of use to you. This is all for free (unless you want to spend money) and you don't need to figure out social media platforms (unless you want to, and this guide works if you decide to take that route too.)

Step One: Characters

Marketing spheres will define these fictious people as 'avatars' or 'the target audience'. You could also call them characters. Because that's what they are: fictional people.

For this step, you shall create characters that would love your story.

And here's some great news: You've already done this.

Perhaps you wrote your story to comfort a prior version of yourself. Perhaps each character in your story holds an aspect of your personality. Perhaps you were ridiculously self-indulgent and made the story you would've loved to read. These are all possible characters you can reuse for marketing.

Write down 2-4 quick archetypes for these characters. You'll chose an aspect of your story (characters, themes, or the younger-self that you wrote it for) and write a thumbnail sketch. (Main issue, fears, wants, personality traits if they relate to the main issue.)

I'll do it for my story (the Land of the Fallen Fairies) down below:

Anuli-like (my MC): Overthinking and aloof. Wants a happy ending but thinks their current personality/character isn't good enough for one. The present stales in comparison to the past/the childhood they lost. The 'gifted theater kids'. Kamari-like (side character): Postpones happiness in favor of creating a perfect schedule/getting accomplishments. Heavy masking. Creative but doesn't create anymore. Promises themself they'll enjoy themselves later, when they've earned it. Workaholics. My younger self: Wanting a fantasy escapism to embody the traits they wish they had in real life. Dissatisfied and worried about reality. Perfectionists. Self-indulgent: People who love plants and forests and fantasy worlds far away from reality/humanity.

Great! Now it's time to find these characters.

Step Two: Setting.

(Let's assume you're using the internet for your marketing. But a similar method works for real life too.)

Where do the characters live?

In order to figure that out, we need to discover the characters' interests, what they watch to solve their problems, and who they find #relatable.

(You can do this for each character or for all the characters at once.)

For example:

Anuli-like -

interests: Stories. Analysis videos. Fantasy escapism. Things that remind them of their childhood. (so nature, warmth, comfort, play, imagination and the times they would actually enjoy learning.)

Places to look: Nature quotes, ambience videos, children's shows and fairytales (comfort shows). Fandom culture - fanfic video essays, fan art.

Solving problems (the problem being wanting a 'happy ending' but feeling that their personality/lifestyle/characteristics aren't right for one): Mindfulness things. Self-healing. Quotes and meditations and candles galore. Slow living. Nature vlogs. Self care. All that 'live in the moment' culture.

Places to look: Slow living. Nature vlogs. The 'softer self-help' (spirituality stuff. Magic/ overnight answers). Witchcraft. 'aesthetic nature' places. Guided meditations.

#relatable: Burnt out gifted kids. People who think so much that their life passes them by. Storytellers and creative who create to make sense of the world. People who like dark, gory things in spite of who they want to be. People who don't like reality.

Places to look: Those 'learn better and remember everything' places. (The 'burnt-out gifted kid' recovery places.) Stop overthinking spots. Those quotes on Pinterest from poetic people who think too much /aff. Storyteller places. Dark academia. Classical music. One off quotes/ poetry.

Okie dokie. Once you have this, find channels, social media accounts, blogs, songs, books, etc. that fit with the categories you wrote down. (They should appeal to the characters) You can search up some of the terms you listed into searches and see who pops up. Bonus points if you find people that overlap with multiple sections.

I know I didn't include booktube or booktok in here. You can if you want too. But those can be a bit... 'consume these 500 books'. You also want to find other places where people who would like you story live, even if they don't follow booktube or booktok.

Congrats! Now you know where your characters live!

Step Three: the scary part

Take everyone you found on your search for the settings and write them down a list. Make sure you get an email/contact info. (they usually list them somewhere under 'for business inquires') Also feel free to watch their content and get to know what attributes these settings have.

And now... we talk to them. about our stories. You can do it. I believe in you.

This called 'pitching your product' in marketing spheres. But you can be informal about it.

I know it can be difficult to talk about your work, so here's a tone to have:

'I made this thing I like and I think you'll like it too'.

What you'll do is send an email (or dm) that goes like this (inspired by Creative Hive on youtube):

Hi [name],

[Genuine compliment]

[Quick sentence or two about your story. Include the themes and who it appeals to. If you have a logline/sentence summary, include that. But I find that the underlying themes and 'who's it's for' is more engaging.

For my story, I might say something like.

I've written a story you might enjoy, since you like [interest]. It's called the Land of the Fallen Fairies. It's a nature-themed commentary on the pursuit of happiness and fixing yourself to deserve that happiness, told by an overthinking, unreliable, houseplant narrator. It was supposed to comfort me when I got frustrated with myself and my happiness chasing, and I hope it can comfort others too.

(That's probably a bit long and I can trim it down a bit.)

You can phrase it like a gift if you want too.]

[Call to action.

'If you like it, I'd appreciate a mention on your [platform].

I know this part may be difficult to mention (imposter syndrome is not fun.) But I promise that if they do like it, they'll be happy to mention it.]

If they don't respond within... four-ish days? (A week at most). then you can include a follow up. For this you can include a template with info about your story. This way it's easy for them to talk about your story.

The template:

title

genre

blurb

Author

where to find the book

Bonus points if you have an additional, physical thing to send them.

Congrats! Now do this pitching process a few times until you've covered most of your bases. (Pitch to as many people as you can. It will get more comfortable as you do it. Play your favorite song and don't let yourself think too hard about it.)

----------

The benefits of this process are that you find people that are already interested in the themes and vibes of your story (in comparison to to ads, which get shoved in everyone's faces.). Someone your audience already trusts will talk about it, which means you don't need to do all this trial and error to find your audience and make content for them.

It's basically a bunch of people talking about something they like!

AND you diversify your audience across niches, but with an underlying theme/interests. Booktok/booktube must appeal to everyone, so it's a hit or miss for recommendations. (Unless there is someone that specifically does one genre/type of story.)

From here you can do fun little things to build up hype and make the book launch feel like this fun event. (I love it when that happens so here's my thoughts about trying to create an event with your story... although that may require another post entirely.)

preorder goals

charity goals

Arg's and puzzles

fund with side plushies and trinkets

Book blog tour

book boxes

as many memes as you can make

rewards (like bookmarks or posters or smth) that people can get for supporting

Talk about the process of creating your story. I know this one channel called 'Dead Sound' that creates 'making of' videos for his short films and they are some of the best videos on youtube.

Okay dear storyteller! Now go forth and share your story with the world!

Additional resources:

Creative Hive <-- a youtube channel that goes through the pitching process.

This video is also very good <-- Haven't watched the rest of the channel but I assume it's also good.

One of the best marketing channels on the internet (the videos are actually entertianing to watch.

Seth Goldin <-- I read his book and took the parts I liked and modified for storytelling marketing.

Dead Sound <-- propaganda to watch the short film series he has (he did the whole 2-d 3-d style wayyyy before spiderverse did... and he's one person making these. One person. It's amazing.

Glitch <--- If someone can figure out how The Amazing Digital Circus was marketed then I will pay you money. It seems to be a lot of memes and funny things.

[norrisreads]

you belong with me #OP81

PLOT : so what happens now, that you've confessed your long term crush towards your very own bestfriend. Will everything turn out great and smooth for you, or will there be someone else to replace that heartache of yours?

PAIRING : oscar piastri x reader! lando norris x reader!

WARNINGS : slight angst, fluff!

a/n : i’ve decided to disregard the inspiration from ag “we can’t be friends” & my english isn’t fluent so pardon the errors 🙏🏻

Was avoiding the oscar piastri, who happened to be your very own bestfriend who you’ve confessed to, possible? The answer to that question is no.

You’ve found yourself gotten closer to lando, with him aiding you and providing you with support you’ve never knew you needed. You currently just landed a job with Mclaren, focusing on social media marketing, which could’ve meant there’s a huge chance of you bumping to Oscar for work purposes.

Things have been so much worse for you eversince the confession, countless rumours were spread wildfire on the internet, comments on your social medias was all related to oscar’s and you friendship, it had gotten out of hand to the point you’ve decided to create a new instagram page and deactivating the previous instagram page.

Currently, you were out with your/bff/name to celebrate lando’s birthday in a big club located in Monaco. You aren’t really a huge club enthusiast but since it’s Lando’s special day, you’ve decided to go ahead with the plan and the future you should’ve stopped you.

Because, here you are currently emptying your guts out while sitting in the freezing tile restroom of the loud club you're now in. Eventhough the purpose of this club outing is celebrating Lando's birthday, but here he is holding your hair and wiping away your smudged liner tears, caressing your back smoothly.

With your best friend, guarding the restroom door while admiring both of you, and then you hear a click sound

"not to ruin the mood, but you guys should totally date" showing lando the photo she’d just took, “send me that”

"really, now? not the time”

Sobbing while still trying to empty more of what you have drank in the last few hours

"i am just saying, look who’s here being lovey dovey taking care of you, eventhough he has to be out there to entertain his own birthday party?”

rolling your eyes, “you shouldn’t have forced me to drink that many cups, lan”

glaring at lando, which he successfully avoid

“did he ever contact you?”

“he, as in oscar piastri” your/bestff/name added on to her previous question

shaking your head letting her know a “no”

“Dickhead” you could hear Lando’s muttered

“hey, don’t let this affect the friendship the both of you had”

lando sighs, “he’s not talking to me, i’m just doing the same”

lafilledhiver just posted a story

seen by oscarpiastri landonorris charles_leclerc

lafilledhiver happiest birthday my london boy landonorris luv you forever (do not take me out for the next 24/36 hours)

It has been a few months since lando’s birthday celebration, both lando and you were currently seated on the second floor of the mclaren’s hospitality.

Lando has successfully convinced you in accompanying him to the current season grand prix, and here you are currently in the suzuka circuit.

Though, following lando for the current season grand prix, has it’s pros and cons. Rumours regarding you started to grow, especially as the wag’s instagram page managed to let your instagram page get known to the whole world, and now your comment section has just been filled with either your situation with both of the McLaren boys.

And, the one rumour that has been rising up for the past few days, was regarding lando’s current relationship with you.

Yes, you are currently dating the mclaren driver, lando norris. Did you ever expected this to have happened? no.

Few months back, just a week after lando’s birthday, he had confessed to you drukenly.

You were taken aback, but you thought back on what your/bestff/name said when it was the night of lando’s birthday party and you agreed, on dating lando norris.

Dating lando norris, healed you. Everything you did with oscar, you’ve done it with lando, except it was 100% better because you finally knew that this is how love feels like.

while you were trying to engulf yourself to your current workload, lando has just been right beside you, going though with his team on strategies for qualifying. You’ve tried giving them the space the team needed, but lando refused to and pushed you back to your sear which was beside him.

Then you felt, a phone sliding between the space of lando’s and your’s computer. There was another article stated, “Mclaren drivers tension explained, and it was all because of y/n”

“explain, now. Both of you” there oscar was, standing there with rage

“there’s no explanation” shrugging your shoulders

then oscar faced lando, “you’re pathetic, going after own my best friend” punching lando to the ground

“what the fuck oscar?” trying your best to seperate the both of them, with max holding on to lando

“what the fuck is wrong with you, y/n. What is wrong with you. Why him? My own teammate?” oscar voice has gotten louder and louder, which you’re so glad that all of you were currently in the staff’s area and thankful that it’s soundproof

ignoring oscar, you told lando that you’ll be back and you just needed a talk with oscar, which Lando agreed on

“let’s go”, grabbing oscar’s hand and pulling him to his driver room, and slamming and locking the door behind you.

“talk” oscar could sense that you were angry with the sudden change of your demeanour , and when you’re angry he knew it’ll be tough for him to explain

“look, i don’t know what has gotten to me alright? Lily showed me that, and i guess anger just took over me?”

you shook your head, “not reasonable for you to punch my boyfriend, explain or i’m never giving you a second chance”

he sighed, “lily broke up with me”

and with that coming out of oscar’s lips, you couldn’t help but to be shocked

“what? how did that happened?”

“this”, oscar pointed to the space between us, “lily thinks i am in love with you”

“well, are you?” you asked him, while raising your brows

he nods, which made u automatically faced him

“oscar, what?” and before you could continue whatever you’ve wanted to say, oscar cut you off

“look, when you left, something in me died, it’s as if i don’t look forward to anything anymore. At first i thought, it’s because you were always right beside me and i had to get used to being alone but it’s not that.

way before i met lily, i really liked you, but i was just scared. Scared that it will ruin whatever friendship we had, and i treasure the friendship more than ever. Then, when you left lily and i had a talk, she’s the one who showed me the article of lando and you”

“keepings tabs on me, i have a fan” you scoffed

“she liked you, she was just jealous over you. She broke up with me, because she wanted our friendship to reconcile, and she pushed me to kinda have a talk with you. y/n, meeting you will always be my favourite memory but you being a memory will always break my heart ” oscar’s palms were now on your shoulders, which meant you were forced to face oscar’s face

“osc, i no longer have feelings for you. It’s true, i am dating lando, and i’m happy. He makes me feel seen. Whenever, i am around him, he makes me feel the happiest person in the whole world. I use to feel that way with you, but now it’s a different person”

you felt oscar’s palm slowly releasing from your shoulders, “i am happy for you y/n and I understand, i guess something just took over me when i realise i’ve lost you to lando. Something that was once could be mine”

“I should go, you should have a talk with lily. Fix the relationship between the both of you, you are each other soulmates”

lafilledhiver_ instagram page

lafilledhiver_ just posted

liked by oscarpiastri landonorris maxfewtrell and others

lafilledhiver_ receiving princess treatment from my very own london boy landonorris

↳ landonorris who is that fine babe??????????

↳ maxfewtrell that fine babe is your girlfriend

↳ oscarpiastri gross, ew

↳ lafilledhiver_ he’s lost plesee pick him up lilyzneimer

↳ lilyzneimer on it 🙏🏻

Eversince oscar and you had the talk, things between the both of you has gone exceptionally well. Oscar relationship with lily is getting better, and there were times that the both of them would join lando’s and you dates.

The four of you were currently on a double date, oscar and lando both at the supermarket getting some groceries while lily and you were both in your shared house with lando

“thanks for hearing out oscar by the way, he loves you alot lily, trust me” smiling towards lily

“i’m sorry about the way i act towards you back then, i was jealous on how kind and soft osc was towards you, and now i finally realise. You’re really too kind for the world, y/n”

And just a few minutes afterwards, you could hear the door lock getting unlocked which signalled that the boys were back.

Both lily and you stood up to help the boys with the groceries, “are you feeding for the whole village?” with the amount of snacks, instant food in at least 2/4 bags

“we got distracted” oscar laughed

“clearlyyyy” lily’s rolling her eyes sarcastically

then u felt lando’s arms around you, “ i got you those puffs that you loved, you are running out of them. Got you those frog chocolates too that you seem to love so much with the amount that i’ve seen you sneaked in my bag. There’s others, it could filled the fridge for at least while i am gone”

Facing towards lando’s face, and giving him a quick kiss on the lips, “you’re the best, this is why you are my boyfriend”

Lando had left you for the Azerbajian grand prix, you decided to take some time off and have time to yourself.

Did you miss Lando? Of course you did, but it helped with lando facetiming you every time he was given a short free period, with him explaining his day, the car, the strategy

You’ve also decided to stop working under Mclaren, and instead found something to do that you’ve always been wanting, opening up your very own small cafe in the neighbourhood that oscar and you grew up in

Lando was iffy about it at the start but slowly supported you, giving you advices on what he had learnt from his current company, going furniture and equipment shopping with you, following you to the store every time the renovation team called for you

You’ve never not once regret getting lando norris as the love of your life, and oscar piastri as your best friend because it is reallt the best of both worlds.

lafilledhiver_ just posted

liked by lewishamilton maxfewtrell lnfour and others

lafilledhiver_ i said yes

↳ y/bff/n i manifested this, congratulations luv!!!!!!

↳ maxfewtrell finally 👋, no refunds y/n

↳ lafilledhiver_ there’s a year warranty

↳ maxfewtrell not applicable for sale items sadly 😔

↳ landonorris guys??? really????????

↳ lilyzneimer i’m so happy for you 🥹

↳ lafilledhiver_ oscarpiastri you’re next

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ author note ˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

Thank you so much for waiting, originally there was another plot that i had in mind to publish, but i've realised that tumblr has deleted my newest draft which led to the plot to be changed! Do let me know if you would like an alternate ending, where reader will end up with oscar! Once again thank you so much for the support, i've never knew that people would actually enjoy reading what i've put out so far in my blog!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ taglist ˚୨୧⋆｡˚⋆

@vicurious28 @epsiespace @hopefulcupcakerebel @randomgirlnumber13 @leclercdream @yourbane @hellof-1 @evie-119 @saachiep81 @invictusrey @cmleitora @icedoutmay @mimosa6 @d3kstar @daemyratwst

[venus-haze]

Got No Reason To Run (Homelander x Supervillain!Reader)

Summary: Homelander fantasizes about you, his supervillain arch-enemy, and getting the revenge he so desperately craves.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is based on some of the headcanons I wrote here. I’m definitely open to writing more of a supervillain!Reader with Homelander. This is short because it's PWP, honestly. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content which includes masturbation. Non-con, violence, intentional scarring, mild bloodplay, and dacryphilia in the context of a fantasy. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander’s eyes were glued to the television as soon as the story about you began to run. Rosethorn. More like a thorn in his fucking side. Ever since Vought decided to let you wreak havoc on the streets of New York because having an arch-enemy was good marketing, you were inescapable. Every interview inevitably derailed into questions about you, the Homelander Vs. Rosethorn comic series was almost out-selling his solo ones, and to make matters worse, half of the internet seemed to ship you, the marketing team bafflingly thrilled the first time #Roselander trended on Twitter.

All of those things he could reasonably deal with, but among the people who regarded you as an anti-hero rather than a supervillain, they’d developed a conspiracy theory of sorts that you were somehow as powerful as, if not more so than, him. He often seethed in rage over it. You were only alive because you were useful to Vought. At least, that’s what he told himself after the first time the two of you were face-to-face, and you spit your venom at him, burning through his costume and blistering his skin, to both of your shock. The faint scar on his arm became a point of sensitivity for him, few people had ever seen it. To him, it was a symbol of failure, but even worse, it fed into the paranoia that what your handful of supporters were saying was true.

He watched the news replay the security footage of you and your accomplices, a rotation of other, less powerful supes, robbing a bank. You could secrete incredibly potent, acidic poison through your saliva and breath at will, though most people were too scared to put up a fight and see what damage you could do to the human body. You practically skipped over to the vault, spitting on the metal door which quickly melted into twisted scrap. Your goons wasted no time in collecting the money and valuables that were then ripe for the taking.

Your gaze landed on the security camera that had caught the whole crime in action, and you grinned, staring directly at it—eyes crystal clear and haunting, as if you were looking into his soul as you stalked over like a tiger waiting to strike. 

“Homelander, you can come and get me,” you said with a playful wink at the camera before disappearing in a toxic haze.

Something stirred in him at that. He grabbed the remote, playing the clip back over and over until his cock was half-hard. If he were there, that bank robbery would have gone a hell of a lot differently. He licked his lips as he thought about how he would have made his appearance, crash through the ceiling or laser through the wall—no, he would’ve walked through the doors like he owned the damn place.

He had a firm grip on his cock as he pumped the length, imagining the bank was empty and dark, after hours with no hostages in sight. You grinned at him from inside the bank vault you’d just half-obliterated. It was all a game, as usual, playing cat and mouse until you’d make your escape. Not this time. 

Vought’s orders to avoid grievously harming you were endlessly frustrating, but in this instance, he was the one calling the shots. If he had his way, he’d make sure you faced the specific brand of justice a supervillain like you deserved after years of getting away with countless crimes with little more than bruises and scratches. You were too cocky, too smug. He’d be more than happy to knock you down a few notches and remind you who exactly your arch-enemy was and what he was capable of.

“Homelander, come and get me,” you repeated, voice light and airy, clueless as to what his true intentions were.

He strode across the threshold of the bank, his steps strong and purposeful as he closed the distance between you. The ensuing fight was laughably easy since he was actually trying to cause some damage, and from your place on the floor, disheveled with blood trickling from the corner of your mouth, you looked betrayed. 

You attempted to push yourself off the ground, only to be met with his boot on your chest, his gaze nothing short of mean.

“Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?”

Your confused silence infuriated him.

“Answer me!” he shouted, his eyes glowing red.

“You’re—you’re The Homelander.”

“That’s right. So I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, Rosethorn, but injuring me? Scarring me? I don’t bleed. I don’t break. I sure as hell don’t scar,” he raged, droplets of spit flying in your face. “I can’t let that stand.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered pathetically.

He scoffed. “You can do better than that.”

“Homelander, please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scar you. Forgive me.”

His silence was accented with the sound of your racing heart, the blood rushing through your veins. You were terrified. Good. 

“We both know you’re not sorry. You loved every second of it, didn’t you?”

“No, Homelander I didn’t–”

“I think I should return the favor.” 

Your eyes widened, and you began shaking your head frantically upon realizing what he intended to do. He grabbed your arm, and his teeth broke the skin with ease, just a bit of pressure from his razor blade smile to cut you open. Your blood on his lips almost tasted sweet, at least, he imagined it would. 

"Scream all you want, there’s no one to hear you," he would snarl at your weeping figure. Now you had matching scars, now you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror without being reminded of him too. In a disturbing display of dominance and possession, he licked your open wound. You wailed. He squeezed your arm tighter. You should have been grateful he didn’t try to cauterize it himself. Finally, he released you, but this temporary freedom wouldn’t last.

“You’re a monster,” you sobbed, clutching your injured arm.

“Me? No, I’m The Homelander. I might as well be god. You? You’re only around to make me look good.”

Then he heard it, the way only he can, the sound of your spit collecting in your mouth. He grabbed you by the throat, hauling you to your feet. “Try it, and I promise I’ll take all the time in the world to kill you.”

Teary-eyed, you nodded. When he released your throat, he heard you swallow. 

“Now, how to properly serve you justice for being caught red-handed robbing a bank," he mused.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not a bad idea at all.”

The fear that would glaze over those eyes that he couldn’t get out of his mind made him jerk his hips, and he slowed how quickly he was pumping his leaking cock. He didn’t want to cum, not yet. Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, he exhaled through his nostrils, trying to ground himself.

Where was he? Fear. You were afraid of him, of what he’d do to you, as you should be. You weren’t rivals, the implication that you were as powerful as him was outright offensive. His lip curled in disdain. 

He pushed you against the wall, tearing off your clothing with little effort, reveling in the way your body shook against his as it was suddenly exposed to the cool air in the vault. He reached from behind, his gloved hands feeling how wet you’d gotten. The squelch of leather squeezing into your wet pussy made him moan out loud, but in his fantasy he was in control, mocking you for being turned on and how easily he was able to fit two–no, now it was three fingers inside you.

Tears streamed down your face as you begged him to be gentle, to slow down. Your legs were shaking as you tried to stay standing despite the overstimulation from his strong fingers curling inside you and pumping in and out. He wouldn’t get exhausted, not from brutally fingering you until you were little more than a blubbering mess. You begged him to stop, to at least have some mercy and give you a break.

“What’s the matter? You told me to come and get you, and here I am,” he taunted. “Don’t think I’m even close to being done with you.”

You cried out in response, or maybe you’d just cum. It didn’t matter, this was about his pleasure. In that moment, watching you sob and struggle got his proverbial rocks off, and he turned your head to capture your lips in a messy kiss. Your mouth stayed open as your desperate protests disappeared down his throat. His tongue curled. He wanted to swallow the noise, digest it, let it sit in his stomach. A wave of pleasure rocked through him. He was close, dangerously so.

He pulled his hand from your cunt, soaked and stretched out for him. Your juices glistened on his gloves, and he broke the kiss to suck each of his fingers as you utilized the time to catch your breath, or at least try to while he gave you this short break. You’d taste perfect, and he’d lick his fingers clean, his mind almost wandering to what it’d be like to eat you out.

Instead, he unbuckled his belt, observing the way you clenched your thighs at the sound of the metal hitting the floor as he rid himself of his spandex bottoms. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you gasped as he pulled your ass to press against his hard cock. You tried wiggling out of his grasp, and he almost laughed. Stupid girl.

“Beg me not to break you in half right now,” he ordered, his voice low and husky.

You choked out your plea through sobs. “Homelander—don’t do this—don’t—please don’t break me in half.”

“No promises.”

With that, he slammed his cock into your wet cunt, grinning to himself as your eyes squeezed shut and you clawed at the wall, a near-animalistic howl tearing from your throat. He kept a steady, unforgiving pace that made your legs finally give out on you, relying on him wrapping a strong arm around your middle to keep you up. He dipped his head down to press a kiss to your temple.

“C’mon baby, you’ve made it this far,” he purred. “Why not see this thing out to the end?”

He kissed down the side of your face, his lips lingering along your cheek and jaw, covering them in open-mouthed kisses as he moaned into your skin. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and when he glanced at the wound he’d inflicted on your arm, he gave a forceful thrust that had you reaching back to grab some part of him to hold onto. 

You were his. You wanted to be his. You wouldn’t have permanently marked his skin if you didn’t. You laid claim to him first. It was only a matter of time before he reciprocated, showing you what you were really in for. Part of him wanted so badly to just kill you, but the part of him that was winning out was buried deep inside your cunt with the intention of filling you with his cum.

Briefly, his mind wandered to keeping you in the tower, maybe in his own suite, tied up pretty like a present for him to come home to at the end of each day, or maybe isolated in one of the supe containment cells where through time and pressure you’d be begging for him to use you, just to get some physical contact.

As much as he could dream, the main event beckoned him back to that bank vault he’d conjured up, his thrusts into you still strong, but more erratic, and he felt your pussy milking his cock as you came, your voice strained as you cried out his name.

Homelander, you can come and get me.

He orgasmed, and you were gone. Back to reality, just him, his hand, and the remote control he’d accidentally crushed. Fuck. He ran his clean hand through his hair, taking another look at the paused frame of you smiling in the security footage. 

Maybe he would come and get you.

[teecupangel]

So this is pertaining to my story Meta Assassins on AO3. Summary to follow so you can have context:

The very franchise we know exists as games within the games themselves and Desmond Miles isn't sure how to feel about this. He owns the first five games and soon Black Flag drops along with a new never-released game. It is there that Desmond meets Altair, Malik, Kadar, Ezio, and Federico. Desmond finds solace in the games given he now works at a gas station and has a crappy boss. While working one day he unknowingly meets Giovanni Auditore who gives him his contact information because he thinks Desmond is hard working and dedicated. Assassin’s Creed: Quadrivium, a MMORPG, drops and that's when he starts to figure things out. He eventually wants to go to Italy to visit Ezio and Federico during the winter holiday, which he does. Currently he is hanging out with Claudia Auditore at the local market.

Eventually I will have Desmond get hurt on the job at the gas station. A wet floor he didn't see, and there was no wet floor sign. He was carrying some heavy product that landed on his chest and left leg pinning him to the ground. His friends find it odd that he doesn't join them that night, but eventually a week goes by before they decide to go to New York to find Desmond. Which is how they discover the poor conditions Desmond has been living in. I am just stuck on how to write the accident scene and the twist of Desmond being fired for having the accident. Typically I have Kadar be the one that kicks them in the pants, cause I like to think he would have studied people's behaviors which would be useful as an assassin, but considering that I now have him dating Claudia, I could have her bugging Federico and Ezio about it since it's very uncharacteristic for Desmond to not answer her for more than a day (he did that once, called her to explain he was exhausted and apologized, he was yawning the entire time which made her realize he works himself to the bone.

Anyway, take your time and get to this when you can. Though I look forward to it, cause honestly I forget what I have asked so it's a nice surprise treat when you answer, like "Oh my Goth I asked that?" Thank you for all these lovely ask and answers. Safety and Peace upon you my friend.

Thank you and upon you as well, friend! Here's the link to the fanfic for those curious: Meta Assassins, please give it a try if you're interested and leave some love :)

If you want to keep it a suspense, one way would be to not write the accident scene at first. Shift the narration to Claudia or Federico or even Ezio and how they haven’t heard about Desmond for a while. Create a mini-mystery of some kind perhaps?

Then when they decided to fly to New York, that’s when the narration shifts back to Desmond. If you’re having problem writing the accident itself, you can set the narration to the same day that they set off to check Desmond and make it something that Desmond internally muses about. Focus the narration on what has happened after he was fired and how he’s holding up. Depending on how long it took for them to decide to fly to America, maybe the timeline was long enough that he needed to sell some things to pay the bills which included his computer and phone. Maybe he had to give up on paying his internet provider to pay the other bills using what he had saved up. Those would be valid reasons why he couldn’t say anything more to his friends.

Now, if you truly want the accident to be a central scene…

Well…

I’ve been clumsy since I was a kid (hence why I had to get a tetanus shot this month) so I can tell you that it might seemed ridiculous but one can do a lot of damage thanks to flailing limbs while ‘sliding’. He doesn’t have to be carrying the heavy product. He could be on his break and leaving the gas station when he skids across the floor and grabbed the first thing he could, which turned out to be the nozzle attached to a nearby car. The nozzle goes flying off the car and still dispensing gas and Desmond smacks his head hard against the car and his head bleeds.

Head bleeding tend to be heavy so they had to call 911 because they freaked out from seeing all the blood.

Of course, Desmond has no health insurance so now he has medical bills to pay for a head injury that he could have probably (probably) treated himself and, when he returned to his work, his boss fires him and tells him he has to pay for the wasted gas. And, because he was on his ‘break’ when it happened, his accident wasn’t covered by his ‘previous’ job (to be fair, Desmond is pretty sure that was just an excuse to not pay him squat).

Hope this helps and, even if you don’t use this, this gives you an idea of how to write this scene :)

(Also, instead of the gas, gas stations usually have convenient stores and you can make Desmond have his accident there where he grabs a shelf to stop his fall, breaks his ankle and crashes lots of merchandises that he has to pay for)

[jayflrt]

bc of a stoners guide to starbucks im so obsessed w getting an email to rate my uni starbucks 😭😭i just realized i finally got a survey but missed the deadline bc it’s been 11 days

omg im so glad you’re enjoying a stoner’s guide to starbucks !! :’) although that is a sweet sentiment i DO have something i would like to address on that note

i’ve been meaning to say something about this for a while actually due to the very obvious setting of my smau, but i’d greatly appreciate if we can separate the fictional starbucks in my social media au from starbucks as a real life corporation ! anon btw i hope you don’t see this as a jab at you at all, i just want to put this out there in general for everyone who’s reading !!

if you don’t know already, more than 8000 palestinians in gaza have been killed by israel just this month. israel is a settler colony, which is a form of colonization that aims to replace the native population of the land they’re colonizing with their settlers. so palestine has been oppressed by israel for decades with the support of nations like the united states and the united kingdom

why im bringing this up is because three targeted boycotts are happening: starbucks (suing its union for posts about supporting palestine), mcdonald’s (donated free meals to israeli army), and disney+ (pledged $2m support for israel). so i please ask that you don’t support starbucks by buying food/drink from them or giving them high ratings ! the starbucks worker union itself is asking us to boycott starbucks and their stocks have been plummeting rn btw

also PLEASE do not harass people who work at starbucks or mcdonald’s. most people don’t support genocide but don’t have the financial capabilities to quit their current jobs, especially with the state the job market is at right now in america. plus the main reason why people are being asked to boycott starbucks is because starbucks union workers themselves were fired for standing with palestine

if you have any questions or would like further resources then lmk or look for informational threads online !! be careful about certain news outlets because there’s a LOT of pro israel propaganda going around

there is a lot going on in our world right now—several active genocides. it’s important we educate ourselves as the ones who have the privilege to not experience the fear and trauma that millions of palestinians are going through and have to live with. if you think that sharing posts and speaking up about it on social media is fruitless then do remember that israel has cut off palestine’s internet for a REASON so please use your privilege and your voice to speak up about palestine!

note that this post is specific to palestine, but there are genocides happening in several countries as we speak and NO big news outlets are covering the horrors. free palestine, free sudan, free congo, free armenia, free tigray

[ammg-old2]

In the last decade, cacti have exploded in popularity, becoming a mainstay of hipster decor around the world – from the homes of China’s growing middle class and the meticulous cactus gardens in Japan to the fashionable cafes of Europe.

In the US alone, sales of cacti and succulents surged 64% between 2012 and 2017; a market that is now estimated to be worth tens of millions. But rising demand has met a thorny problem: cacti are extremely slow-growing, with some species taking decades to grow from seed to full maturity. Hence, many opt for the shortcut: pulling them right out of the ground.

For land managers and scientists who work with cacti, the problem appears to be on the rise. While the precise scale is difficult to measure, and catching thieves red-handed in remote deserts is nearly impossible, major busts offer clues. In 2014, more than 2,600 stolen cacti were seized at US borders – up from 411 just a year before. But law enforcement officials and field scientists say that data represents only a tiny fraction of cactus actually being stolen.

“When I first started we rarely investigated cactus theft,” said one US Fish and Wildlife Service detective, who asked not to be named due to the undercover nature of his work. He has covered the south-west region for more than a decade and says the problem is increasing. “Now we are prosecuting cases involving thousands of plants at a time. The demand is so high that I fear we can’t stop the illegal trade going on.”

While many plants fall victim to underground cactus cartels, a seemingly more benign form of theft has become part of the problem, too. International visitors who come to the south-west specifically to view rare cactus in the wild sometimes take a souvenir home, and social media is exacerbating the problem.

“We’ve had Austrian, German and Italian collectors express strong interest on social media for these plants and they share GPS coordinates,” said Wendell “Woody” Minnich, the former president of the Cactus and Succulent Society of America. “Some of these people come to steal, especially when a new species is identified. They hide the plants in their suitcase and take them back to their greenhouse in Europe.”

Minnich, 71, has been a cactus grower and nursery operator in New Mexico for 50 years. He said the internet had significantly accelerated theft of rare, slow-growing cactus species over the last decade. A case in point: Sclerocactus havasupaiensis, which is native to one drainage at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, was being auctioned on eBay in early January by a seller in Ukraine. It was just one of more than 365 internationally protected plant species that are openly traded on Amazon and eBay.

“Do a Google search on Sclerocactus and you can find people in Russia selling them,” said Minnich. “I have been on public lands in Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado where years ago Sclerocactus were everywhere, and recently I found just a bunch of little holes in the ground.”

[yuadokjon]

a hierarchy not based on strength

summary: he's a gym owner.

-----

New job, new life. When you finally heard back from your dream job, you couldn't hop on a plane fast enough away from the hellhole you unfortunately called your hometown. Sure, it would start as a mostly administrative position at the bottom of the totem pole. Sure, the pay wasn’t great. And, sure, the only way you would be able to afford living anywhere remotely near your workplace would be in a shoebox of an apartment in the sketchiest side of the city. But, hey -- new job, new life. And, most recently, new gym.

Within the first few weeks of moving in, you were sifting through yet another smashed-in pile of new resident mailers until digging out a glossy, colorful flyer for a gym. Malevolent Shrine, huh? You eyed the neon-colored temple, the sharp edges of the skulls and teeth littering its base piercing into the two words it centered. Loud. Bombastic. And unbelievably douche-y, you noted with a raised brow at the captions splashed haphazardly across the page in tribalistic all-caps:

‘ONLY A HIERARCHY BASED PURELY ON STRENGTH MATTERS.’

‘DISCOVER THE HUNGER TO TAKE HOLD OF YOUR DESIRES.’

‘STAND PROUD. YOU ARE STRONG.’

Was this for a gym, a rave, or a cult? What kind of business owner signed off on this? It just screamed frat bros and gym rats, and you were pretty sure you weren’t the target market. But it did its job of grabbing your attention and, a quick search of its close location later, considering its relatively reasonably priced offers. Brand new members could even sign up for a 30-day trial with zero dollars down as an offensively yellow spike in the corner shouted. It couldn’t hurt. Maybe you needed something of a familiar routine to help better ground yourself. Help adjust to this lonely foreign land that you hoped to eventually replace ‘home.’ 

Of course, you, ever-diligent skeptic, had to uncover all the public secrets you could before stepping one foot inside. Not that there was much to find. Nothing much was on their official site other than current promotions and classes in that same gaudy font from the ad. No social media accounts. No gallery of staff or trainer photos. Not even an ‘About’ page. It was opened sometime in 2018, going by the sparse Internet reviews and photos you did find. You would have been impressed a business could survive in this day and age with such a specter of an online presence if you weren’t so frustrated. But it was indeed a real gym, one with decent reviews and a decently large layout providing enough spacing among machines to retain some level of privacy while easily cycling through them. No Wi-Fi, televisions, or cafés peddling the latest health fads but 24/7 with great showers and sauna. A very no-frills gym. You could appreciate that.

The next day some kid in a white-pink ombre bob took down your information, not offering a smile or tour throughout the entirety of the speedy sign-up process. You could barely get a word in that wasn’t a simple affirmation or denial as they reviewed your application and drilled through the gym policies and rules in a monotonous drone, pointing vaguely in the respective directions of the few amenities before ushering you out of their office with a handful of brochures and a temporary gym badge. You think you might’ve signed something and mumbled a thanks right before they neatly shut the door in your face. You weren’t sure if you had even caught a name. But you did recall them confirming something about a free cancellation policy within the first thirty days, so you took full advantage of it whenever you could.

Today was day 22 of your trial period, and so far it was...fine. Generally everything was fine, except for...your eyes scanned cautiously around the gym's perimeter. You felt the squat bar you were resting against lurch and whipped around, coming eye to eye with a pair of scarlet ones. You squeaked and jumped back in surprise, immediately earning the icy stare of a certain manager that chilled the back of your neck. You hissed and huffed as you adjusted your clothes for no apparent reason.

“Ugh, Sukuna!” 

“Afternoon, gorgeous,” he greeted cheerily in return. You merely crossed your arms over your chest and scowled back at the grin that only widened at your defensive display.

“First time seeing you here during these hours,” he casually continued as he pushed himself off the bar he’d been dangling over and peered down at you from his full height, “Missed you this morning.”

“I was hoping to, actually,” you sighed and shooed him away from your rack, hands on hips until he obediently bowed out outside and around the metallic cage, “For the last time, leave me alone.”

Yeah, generally everything was fine save for this pink-haired menace that terrorized your every gym visit since popping up out of nowhere one day.

Sukuna had smoothly inserted himself into your routine and refused to let you recall ever knowing a peaceful start to your day since joining Shrine. He was there. Always. Every early morning -- or even the occasional late night -- it didn't seem to matter when you timed your pilgrimage. Sukuna was always there, waiting for you outside the locker rooms with that suspicious smirk and two fresh towels slung over his shoulder. What are we working on today? How about we try pushing past your PR? Need a spotter? What am I saying, of course you do. Wave after wave of rhetorical questions and light barbs always buffeted you first as he followed around after you like an eager kitten. What protests you eked out during his infrequent ebbs were patiently listened to but quickly drowned again, swept up by the tsunami of suggestions from someone who was obviously more experienced at this than you. Though you would always insist on sticking to the schedule you had already carefully laid out prior to each session, you always found yourself drifting away and towards his instead by the end. It was a ritual at this point.

You couldn’t deny that your physique was the best shape it’d been in a while, his challenges helping you push past limitations that had long been entrenched for years. And he was also useful in warding off other goers, whose numbers you were surprised to find even during the odd hours you purposely chose. A singular distraction with honest -- if crude -- motivations, you could handle. Multiple ones wanting who knows what from you? Especially from around this part of town? One close brush was close enough for you. No, Sukuna was decidedly the lesser evil that you knew. Probably.

You understood their caution and had shared it when he first stepped up to you. He was taller and bigger than any of the regulars you now recognized. Wide muscled thighs and arms that seemed to strain the basketball shorts and cutoff tanks he always wore that would have blanketed any other man. Perfect limbs that balanced vertically at the convergence of his comparatively slimmer waist. Bulging veins that recorded a history intimate with everything within the gym’s interior and scars that suggested a familiarity with dangers past the confinement of their brick walls. Like a wrathful Buddhist deity rendered exquisitely in flesh and blood. Not that you were ogling. He was just hard to not notice.

But more than his imposing build or the tats he unabashedly wore across its expanse, it was the air around him. Heavy. Intense. Suffocating. He was a planet, its inescapable gravity forcing further down the lowered heads and eyes from everyone encircling his orbit. His presence both demanded and eschewed attention, the correct answer of the two one might realize only afterwards (and possibly much too late). Nobody dared to approach you now, even in the past thirty or so minutes you were free of him for once within this gym.

Other than the flirting, however, Sukuna seemed harmless enough as you got to know him over the course of your visits. He hadn’t yet given you any reason to fear him, though he left you plenty to question everything else. You weren’t sure how or why such an intimidating man took an interest in you at all. 

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he chuckled and sidled in behind you while you checked over the loaded discs that flanked the opposite ends of the steel pole and the clips holding them firmly in place. His big hands hugged the centimeters of space above your hips as he leaned down, smirking, “You know how to get me to stop.”

“For the last time,” you repeated to his reflection in the mirrored wall in front of the two of you before slapping his hands away, “I don’t go out with jobless losers.” 

“Hmph,” he pouted but eased back again as you swung underneath the bar and shouldered the metal onto your squeezed blades, “What makes you think that again? Spread your feet farther, doll.”

You rolled your eyes but complied. His hands now hung loosely under yours that tensed and tightened their grip. You peeled your gaze away from them and onto your reflected form as you took a deep breath and started your descent.

“One,” Sukuna voiced aloud your thought as you came back up, the deep reverberations scattering away what focus you had managed to muster. You furrowed your brows.

“Loser because obvious. Jobless because,” you grunted as you steadily lowered yourself again, “How else could you always be here? And in the middle of the day.”

“So are you,” he scoffed.

“I’m only here now because I took the day off.” 

“I could have, too.”

“Doubtful. Wish I could take a day off from you for once.”

“Two -- aw, hurtful. Are you trying to avoid me, [Y/N]?”

You didn’t answer. You tried to ignore the heat emanating from the body that followed behind you as you continued with your reps and he with his count. You fixed your eyes on your heaving diaphragm to blur out the thicker frame that overshadowed yours several times over. Your heart was pounding. Your head was starting to spin. Maybe you had already overdone it. Or you should’ve drank some more water beforehand. Breathe, you thought you heard your partner warn, don’t forget to breathe. You shut your eyes as you struggled to drive up the bar a final time and quickly re-racked it with his help before doubling over to catch your breath. He bent down in concern before shooting back up as a pointed finger stabbed the air in front of his face.

"One. Date," you panted, shakily but emphatically jabbing the singular digit skyward again, “Got it? One. One date then you'll leave me alone to lift in peace.”

He blinked. An unusual softness crept into his features that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared when you looked up and awaited his response. 

“One,” he agreed, the usual snark now returning in full glory, “So…how about now?”

“No.”

“But you just said you had the day o--”

“No.”

[mariacallous]

The Federal Communications Commission this week voted to raise its internet speed benchmark for the first time since January 2015, concluding that modern broadband service should provide at least 100 Mbps download speeds and 20 Mbps upload speeds.

An FCC press release after Thursday's 3-2 vote said the 100 Mbps/20 Mbps benchmark “is based on the standards now used in multiple federal and state programs,” such as those used to distribute funding to expand networks. The new benchmark also reflects “consumer usage patterns, and what is actually available from and marketed by internet service providers,” the FCC said.

The previous standard of 25 Mbps downstream and 3 Mbps upstream lasted through the entire Donald Trump era and most of President Biden’s term. There has been a clear partisan divide on the speed standard, with Democrats pushing for a higher benchmark and Republicans arguing that it shouldn't be raised.

The standard is partly symbolic but can indirectly impact potential FCC regulations. The FCC is required under US law to regularly evaluate whether "advanced telecommunications capability is being deployed to all Americans in a reasonable and timely fashion" and to "take immediate action to accelerate deployment" and promote competition if current deployment is not "reasonable and timely."

With a higher speed standard, the FCC is more likely to conclude that broadband providers aren't moving toward universal deployment fast enough and to take regulatory actions in response. During the Trump era, FCC chair Ajit Pai's Republican majority ruled that 25 Mbps download and 3 Mbps upload speeds should still count as "advanced telecommunications capability," and concluded that the telecom industry was doing enough to extend advanced telecom service to all Americans.

2-2 Deadlock Delayed Benchmark Increase

Democrat Jessica Rosenworcel has been the FCC chair since 2021 and was calling for a speed increase even before being promoted to the commission's top spot. Rosenworcel formally proposed the 100 Mbps/20 Mbps standard in July 2022, but the FCC had a 2-2 partisan deadlock at the time and the 25 Mbps/3 Mbps standard stayed in place a while longer.

Biden's first nominee to fill an empty FCC seat was stonewalled by the Senate, but Democrats finally got a 3-2 majority when Biden's second pick was confirmed in September 2023. Thursday's 3-2 party-line vote approved the 100 Mbps/20 Mbps standard and a report concluding "that advanced telecommunications capability is not being deployed in a reasonable and timely fashion," the FCC said in its press release.

That conclusion is "based on the total number of Americans, Americans in rural areas, and people living on Tribal lands who lack access to such capability, and the fact that these gaps in deployment are not closing rapidly enough," the press release said. Based on data from December 2022, the FCC said that fixed broadband service (excluding satellite) "has not been physically deployed to approximately 24 million Americans, including almost 28 percent of Americans in rural areas, and more than 23 percent of people living on Tribal lands."

A draft of the FCC report was released before the meeting. "Based on our evaluation of available data, we can no longer conclude that broadband at speeds of 25/3 Mbps—the fixed benchmark established in 2015 and relied on in the last seven reports—supports 'advanced' functions," the report said. "We find that having 'advanced telecommunications capability' for fixed broadband service requires access to download speeds of at least 100 Mbps and upload speeds of at least 20 Mbps. The record overwhelmingly supports increasing the fixed speed benchmark in this manner."

The report also sets a "long-term speed goal" of 1 Gbps download speeds paired with 500 Mbps upload speeds. The FCC said it intends to use this speed goal “as a guidepost for evaluating our efforts to encourage deployment.”

[sabrinahawthorne]

JUMP! Devlog, March 11, 2024 - Name Change | Artist Position Filled | Crowdfunding Announcement

This one's a big update announcement, so let's tl;dr up top, and the details will be below the read more.

JUMP! is officially being renamed to CLASH! Shonen Battle Roleplay. Largely for copyright reasons.

We have an artist! Thank you to Elise @ispybluesky - I'm ecstatic to be working with them.

This is my official announcement of a crowdfunding campaign, due to launch in April! I'll be advertising it and posting links when and where appropriate.

1. Name Change

It was a long time coming, honestly. When I originally made the prototype for the game, the idea of expanding it into a full book was sort of a distant idea - I had other games pressing more fervently at my attention, and I was burnt out from a year of making a lot of games. So I ripped assets from official anime & manga and named the thing after a real shonen manga magazine - classic internet. And besides, I was posting it for free. No harm, no foul.

But as my plans for the year solidified and I decided on this game as the project to focus on in 2024, it became quickly apparent that I simply couldn't get away with toeing the line that enthusiastically. It's a fun idea, branding your game after the most well-known shonen publication out there, both creatively and as a marketing strategy. But of course, that's just asking for trouble. So, better to change it, and give it more of its own identity in the process.

So after a bit of thought, I landed on the obvious and perfect answer: CLASH! Shonen Battle Roleplay. I mean, come on. Who's complaining about that? Certainly not me.

Going forward, I'll be tagging devlogs with the old #JUMP! Shonen Battle Roleplay tag, as well as a new one befitting the change - just to keep things together.

2. Artist Found

I was astounded at how many inquiries I got when I put out that call. I suspect I have @lighthouselio and @monsterfactoryfanfic to thank for that, so thank you both. Really, that was cool as hell to wake up to.

After some deliberation, I've decided to work with Elise @ispybluesky, who has been a delight to talk to so far, and whose style I fell in love with instantly. We're already working on the first couple of pieces, and I'm beyond excited for you all to see what they can do. Give them a follow.

Elise wasn't the only person I talked to though, and wasn't the only person whose work shone. In particular I'd like to give a shoutout to Anh Huynh @acesartscape. While it wasn't as strong a style match, I'm enchanted by their work, and am probably going to commission them for one or two things on my own time. Give them a follow too.

3. Crowdfunding Announcement

I mentioned it in my call for artists post - but I never made an announcement, so here's that: The CLASH! Shonen Battle Roleplay crowdfunding campaign is coming this April!

The Campaign is currently slated to last through June, and my goal i to put together something nice to look at and interesting to read by the time we launch. As you can probably imagine I've been working hard on this game, and it's thrilling and terrifying all at once to be coming up on this milestone. Let's see how it goes, shall we?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Zuck’s gravity-defying metaverse money-pit

Tomorrow (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.

Think of everything that makes you miserable as being caught between two opposing, irresistible, irrefutable truths:

"Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops" (Stein's Law)

"Markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent" (Keynes)

Both of these are true, even though they seemingly contradict one another, and no one embodies that contradiction more perfectly than Mark Zuckerberg.

Take the metaverse.

Zuck's "pivot" to a virtual world he ripped off from a quarter-century old cyberpunk novel (reminder: cyberpunk is a warning, not a suggestion) was born of desperation.

Zuck fancies himself an avatar of the Emperor Augustus (that's why he has that haircut) (no, really). The emperors of antiquity are infamous for getting all weepy when they run out of lands to conquer.

But the lachrymosity of emperors has little causal relationship to the anxieties of tech monopolists! Alexander weeps because he just loves a good conquest and when he finishes conquering the world, he's terminally bored. That's not Zuck's problem at all. When Zuck attains monopoly status, his company develops an autoimmune disorder, as his vicious princelings run out of enemies to destroy and begin to knife one another.

Any monopoly faces these destructive microincentives, but tech is exceptional here because tech has the realtime flexibility and speed that brick-and-mortar businesses can never match:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/

Sociopaths with tech monopolies are worse for the same reason that road-rage would be worse in a flying car: adding new capacity to indiscriminate self-destructive urges turns ordinary car crashes into low-level airburst warfare:

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

The flexibility of digital gives tech platforms so much latitude to break things in tiny increments. A tech platform is like a Jenga tower composed of infinitely divisible blocks. The Jenga players are the product managers and executives who have run out of the ability to grow by attracting new business thanks to their monopoly dominance. Now they compete with one another to increase the yield from their respective divisions by visiting pain upon the business customers and end users their platform connects. By tiny increments, they increase the product's cost, lower its reliability, and strip it of its utility and then charge rent to restore its functionality:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/24/cursed-bigness/#incentives-matter

This is the terminal stage of enshittification, the unstoppable autocannibalism of platforms as they seek to harvest all the value created by business customers and end users, leaving the absolute minimum of residual value needed to keep both stuck to the platform. This is a brittle equilibrium, because the difference between "I hate this service but I just can't stop using it," and "Get me the fuck out of here" is razor-thin.

All it takes is one tiny push – a whistleblower, a livestreamed mass-shooting, a Cambridge Analytica – and people bolt for the doors. This triggers the final stage: the "pivot," which is a tech euphemism for "panic."

For Zuck, the pivot got real after a disappointing earnings call triggered a mass sell-off of Facebook stock, history's worst one-day value incineration, which lopped a quarter of a trillion dollars off the company's market cap:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2022-12-19/dramatic-stock-moves-of-2022-led-by-meta-dive-nordic-flash-crash

This was when the metaverse became the company's top priority.

Now, in my theory of enshittification, the step that follows the pivot is death: "Finally, they abuse those business customers to claw back all the value for themselves. Then, they die":

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

Many people have asked me about the conspicuous non-death of Facebook! That's where I have to fall back on Stein's Law: "Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops." Facebook can't continue to annihilate value, alienate its workers, harm the public, hemorrhage money in support of a mediocrity's cherished folly forever. Can it?

Admittedly, it sure seems like it can. Facebook's metaverse pivot has thus far cost the company $46,500,000,000. That is: $46.5 billion. That's even more money than Uber torched, seeking to maintain the illusion that they will be able to create monopolies on both transport and the labor market for driving and recoup the billions the Saudi royal family let them use for the con:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/11/bezzlers-gonna-bezzle/#gryft

Don't worry: the Saudi royals are fine! They cashed out at the IPO, collecting a tidy profit at the expense of retail investors who assumed that a pile of shit as big as Uber must have a pony under it, somewhere:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/19/fake-it-till-you-make-it/#millennial-lifestyle-subsidy

Uber has doubled the cost of rides and halved drivers' wages, using illegal gimmicks like "algorithmic wage discrimination" to squeeze a little more juice out of the nearly exhausted husks of its workforce:

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

But Stein's Law hasn't been repealed. Drivers can't drive for sub-subsistence wages. Do that long enough and they'll literally starve: that's what "subsistence" means. We lost a decade of transit investment thanks to the Uber con, at the same time as traditional taxi drivers were forced out of the industry. Uber can't be profitable and still pay a living wage, and the fantasy of self-driving cars as a means of zeroing out the wage-bill altogether remains stubbornly, lethally unworkable:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Which means we're at the point where you can get off a commuter train at a main station and find yourself stranded: no taxis at the taxi-queue, no busses due for an hour, and no Uber cars available unless you're willing to pay $95 for a ten-minute ride in a luxury SUV (why yes, this did happen to me recently, thanks for asking).

As more and more of us are exposed to these micro-crises, the political will to do something will increase. This can't go on forever. "Don't use commuter rail" isn't a viable option. "Walk three miles each way to the commuter rail station" isn't viable either. Neither is "Pay $95 for an Uber to get to the station." Something's gotta give…eventually.

"Eventually" is the key word here. Remember the corollary of Stein's Law: Keynes's maxim that "markets can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent." Sure, anything that can't go on forever eventually stops, but that is no guarantee of a soft landing. You can't smoke two packs a day forever – but in the absence of smoking cessation, the eventual terminus of that habit is stage-four lung cancer. Keep hammering butts into your face and your last smoke will come out a crematorium chimney.

Zuckerberg hasn't merely blown a whole-ass Twitter on the metaverse with nothing to show for it – he's gotten richer while doing it! In the past year, his net worth increased by 130%, to $59 billion, thanks to an increase in Facebook's share-price, driven by investors who stubbornly remain irrational, keeping the Boy Emperor solvent long past any reasonable assessment of his performance.

What are these investors betting on? One possibility is that the rise and rise of Facebook's share-price represents a bet on technofeudalism. Since the Communist Manifesto, Marxists have been predicting the end of capitalism. That end seems to have come, but what followed capitalism wasn't socialism, it was the return of feudalism, an economic system where elites derive their wealth from rents, not profits:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/28/cloudalists/#cloud-capital

Profit is the income you get from investing in capital – machinery, systems, plant – and then harvesting the surplus value created by workers who mobilize this capital. Capitalism produces massive returns for its winners – in the Manifesto's first chapter, Marx and Engels just geek out about how productive and dynamic this system is.

But capitalism is also a Red Queen's Race, where the winners have to run faster and faster to stay in the same place. Capitalism drives competition, as other would-be winners pile into the sector, replicating the systems that the current winners are using and then improving on them. This is why the prophets of capitalist end-times like the FBI informant Peter Thiel say that "competition is for losers."

Capitalism's "profits" stand in contrast to the feudalist's "rents." Rents are income you get from owning something that other people need to produce things. The capitalist owns the coffee-shop, but the feudalist owns the building. When a rival capitalist opens a superior coffee-shop and drives the old shop out of business, the capitalist loses, but the rentier wins. Now they can rent out an empty storefront in the neighborhood everyone's coming to because of that hot new cafe.

Feudal and manorial lords also made their fortunes by extracting surplus value from workers, but these rentiers don't care about owning the means of production. The peasant in the field pays for their own agricultural equipment and livestock – control over the means of production is necessary for worker liberation, but it's not sufficient. The worker's co-op that owns its factory can still find the value it produces bled off by the landlord who owns the land the factory sits on.

The jury's still out on whether American workers really see themselves as "temporarily embarrassed millionaires," but America's capitalists have a palpable, undeniable loathing for capitalism. The dream of an American "entrepreneur" is *PassiveIncome: money you get from owning something capitalists and/or workers use to create value. Digital technology creates exciting new possibilities for rent-extraction: a taxi-operator had to buy and maintain a car that someone else drove. Uber can offload this hassle onto its drivers and rent out access to the chokepoint it created between drivers and riders, charging all the traffic can bear. This is feudalism in the cloud – or as Yannis Varoufakis calls it, cloudalism.

In Varoufakis's Technofeudalism, he describes Amazon as a feudal venture. From a distance, Amazon seems like a bustling marketplace of manic capitalism, with sellers avidly competing to offer more variety and lower costs in a million independently operated storefronts. But closer inspection reveals that Amazon is a planned economy, not a market.

Every one of those storefronts pays rent to the same landlord – Amazon – which determines which goods can be offered for sale. Amazon sets pricing for those goods, and extracts 45-51% of every dollar those sellers make. Amazon even controls which goods are shelved at eye-height when you enter the store, and which ones are banished to a dusty storeroom in a distant sub-basement you'll never find:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/14/flywheel-shyster-and-flywheel/#unfulfilled-by-amazon

Zuck's metaverse is pure-play technofeudalism, Amazon taken to the logical extreme. It's easy to get distracted by the part of Zuck's vision that will convert us all into legless, sexless, heavily surveilled low-resolution cartoon characters. But the real action isn't this digitization of our fleshy wants and needs. Zuck didn't spend $46.5B to torment us.

The cruelty isn't the point of the metaverse.

The point of the metaverse is to rent us out to capitalists.

Zuck doesn't know why we would use the metaverse, but he believes that if he can convince capitalists that we all want to live there, that they'll invest the capital to figure out how to serve us there, and then he can extract rent from those capitalists and start earning "passive income." It's an Uber for Cyberpunk Dystopias play.

Zuck's done this before. Remember the "pivot to video?" Zuckerberg wanted to compete with Youtube, but he didn't want to invest in paying for video production. Videos are really expensive to produce and the median video gets zero views. So Zuck used his captive audience to trick publishers into financing his move into video. He fraudulently told publishers that videos were blowing up on Facebook, outperforming boring old text by vast margins.

Publishers borrowed billions and raised billions more in the capital markets, financing the total conversion of newsrooms from text to video and precipitating a mass extinction event for print journalists. Zuck kept the con alive by giving away (fewer) billions to some of those publishers, falsely claiming that their videos were generating fortunes in advertising revenue. These lucky, credulous publishers became judas goats for their industry, luring others into the con, the same way that the "lucky" guy a carny lets win a giant teddy-bear at the start of the day lures others into putting down $5 to see if they can sink three balls in a rigged peach-basket.

But when we stubbornly refused to watch videos on Facebook, Zuck stopped spreading around these convincer payouts, and precipitated a second mass-extinction event in news media, as the new generation of video journalists joined their predecessors in Facebook-driven unemployment. Given this history, it's surreal to see publishers continue to insist that Facebook is stealing their content, when it is so clearly stealing their money:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

Metaverse is the new Pivot to Video. Zuckerberg is building a new world, which he will own, and he wants rent it to capitalists, who will compete with one another in just the way that Amazon's sellers compete. No matter who wins that competition, Zuckerberg will win. The prize for winning will be a rent increase, as Zuckerberg leverages the fact that your "successful" business relies on Facebook's metaverse to drain off all the value your workers have produced:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/18/metaverse-means-pivot-to-video/

This can't last forever, but how long until Zuck's reality distortion field runs out of battery? That's the $46.5B question.

The market can certainly remain irrational for a hell of a long time. But the market isn't the only force that regulates corporate outcomes. Regulators also regulate. Europe's GDPR is now seven years old, and it plainly outlaws Facebook's surveillance.

For nearly a decade, Facebook has pretended that this wasn't true, and they got away with it. Mostly, that's thanks to the fact that Ireland is a corporate crime-haven with a worse-than-useless Data Protection Commission:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/15/finnegans-snooze/#dirty-old-town

But anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. Facebook has finally been dragged into EU federal jurisdiction, where it will face exterminatory fines if it continues to spy on Europeans:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/07/luck-of-the-irish/#schrems-revenge

In response, Facebook has rolled out a subscription version of its main service and its anticompetitive acquisition, Instagram:

https://about.fb.com/news/2023/10/facebook-and-instagram-to-offer-subscription-for-no-ads-in-europe/

For €10/month, Facebook will give you an ad-free experience across its service offerings (it's €13/month if you pay through an app, as Facebook recoups the 30% #AdTax rents that the feudal Google/Apple mobile duopoly extracts).

But this doesn't come close to satisfying Facebook's legal obligations under the GDPR. The GDPR doesn't ban ads, it bans spying. Facebook spies on every single internet user, all the time. The apps we use are built with "free" Facebook toolkits that extract rent from the capitalists who make them by harvesting our data as we use their apps. The web-pages we visit have embedded Facebook libraries that do the same thing for web publishers. Facebook buys our data from brokers. Facebook has so many ways of spying on us that there's almost certainly no way for Facebook to stop spying on you, without radically transforming it operation.

To comply with the GDPR, Facebook must halt surveillance advertising altogether. There's no way to square "spying on users" with "you can't surveil without explicit consent, and you can't punish people for refusing."

And of course, "not spying" isn't the same as "not advertising." "Contextual advertising" – where ads are placed based on the thing you're looking at, not who you are and what you do – is hundreds of years old. Context ads underperform surveillance ads by a slim margin – about 5% – but they're vastly more profitable for publishers. That's because surveillance ads are feudal, controlled by rentiers like Facebook, who own vast troves of the surveillance data needed to run these ads. Traditional ad intermediaries (agencies, brokers) took 10-15% out of the total advertising market. Ad-tech companies – the Google/Facebook duopoly – take 51% out of every ad dollar spent.

Eliminate surveillance ads and you torch their feudal estates. Facebook will always know more about someone reading a news article than the publisher – but the publisher will always know more about the article than Facebook does:

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

There are rents under capitalism, just as there are profits under feudalism. The defining characteristic of a system is what happens when rents and profits come into conflict. If profits win – for example, if productive companies beat patent trolls, or if news publishers escape Facebook's rent-extraction – then the system is capitalist. If rents win – if investors continue to bet large on the metaverse as its losses pass $50 billion and head for the $100 billion mark – then the system is feudal.

Anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop. The question isn't whether the platforms will eventually become so enshittified that they die – the question is whether they will go down in an all-consuming fireball, or whether they'll go down in a controlled demolition that lets us evacuate the people they've trapped inside them first:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/09/let-the-platforms-burn/

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/2023/10/30/markets-remaining-irrational/#steins-law

Image: Diego Delso (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Puente_de_las_cataratas_Victoria,_Zambia-Zimbabue,_2018-07-27,_DD_10.jpg

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

[zvaigzdelasas]

The Supreme Court of Panama began deliberations on Friday that will decide the fate of First Quantum Minerals’ (TSX: FM) giant Cobre Panama copper mine, the only mining operation in the Central American country.

The top court is expected to rule on several constitutional challenges to the contract signed in October between the Canadian miner and the Panamanian government, which would allow the operation to keep going for the next 20 years.

The outcome of these deliberations is being keenly watched by the global copper market, investors and Panamanians, as the whole country has been paralyzed by widespread anti-mining protests over the past weeks.[...]

The land and sea protests have blocked the delivery of crucial supplies to the mine, which forced First Quantum to halt operations again this week[...]

Protestors claim the mining contract was fast-tracked with little public input or transparency. “It was published digitally, but its download was not allowed (…) We are talking about a country where 40% of the population lacks internet,” award-winning Panamanian journalist Mary Triny Sea, wrote on Friday. Campaigners have also made corruption allegations against lawmakers and the company, which has denied any wrongdoing. [...]

Opponents say Cobre Panama is located within a key biodiversity area of global significance. “A road built for the mine goes through the heart of the Panama Atlantic Mesoamerican Biological Corridor, which connects wildlife habitats in seven countries of Central America to southern Mexico,” Amy Upgren, director of international programs at the American Bird Conservancy said in a statement. “Ecological corridors are critical for animals to be able to move to find food, habitat, and mates,” she noted.[...]

the mine accounts for about 5% of its GDP and makes up 75% of Panama’s export of goods[...]

Analysts at BMO Capital Markets believe that First Quantum is in a financial position that allows it to weather the storm in the short term.[...]

Challenges, she added, would arise if Cobre Panama remained halted for 80 days in 2024, as this would draw First Quantum’s cash down to zero at the bank’s current commodity and cash outflow assumptions. A closure for the first half of the year, beyond the May 2024 Presidential election, would result in a $267 million cash shortfall[...]

President Laurentino Cortizo would be in a tricky spot if the court rules the contract with First Quantum unconstitutional, as his government passed a bill on Nov. 2 banning all new mining concessions and extensions. That would prevent the two parties from negotiating a new deal.

24 Nov 23

[itsclydebitches]

I honestly have no idea how they intend to greenlight volume 10 if it's not been greenlit already. They've announced the final season of Red vs Blue and a lot of early day fans are in agreement that the end of RvB is the signaling of the end of RT in general. It's their second biggest money maker next to RWBY. After this new season, it's over. What do they do next? Do RT really believe that RWBY is popular enough to coast on for another decade? It'll be a miracle if it lasts even one more year.

Their viewership has been on a decline since Volume 6, they've abused so much of their animation department that there's almost no one left, most of their VA talent for RWBY's popular characters aren't coming back due to all the controversies, any spinoffs or soft reboots or whatever keep going back to the Beacon era and don't really do much to help with the overall problems that are down to the roots of the company.

They even made their biggest ship that kept what few fans are left canon and put out half assed merch that sold out in minutes, and somehow they still haven't managed to find enough money to greenlight another volume?

If they somehow miraculously get Volume 10 made, it's probably going to be the last.

The last few years of RWBY have really highlighted for me how challenging it is to define "popularity" and "success" nowadays. Granted, a good chunk of that is simply my own ignorance about how the production side of things are run, but it nevertheless feels like there's this intense level of ambiguity that wasn't there in the past (or at least wasn't as obvious). Fandom itself has always been an unreliable source because depending on the corner of the internet you're in, you can get a wildly skewed perspective without engaging with everything that contradicts how "good" or "bad" you think things are going. As you say, merch sells out in minutes, yet neither the finances nor the implied security of that seems to be enough to land another Volume. There are questions about whether this could be a marketing scheme, wherein Volume 10's future is simply being kept under wraps to drum up interest. There's the question of whether popularity matters at all when we've got companies cancelling and pulling undoubtedly successful shows, all according to their own, long-term algorithms. On the one hand the information surrounding RT is all about the abuse of their workers, another scandal, how this might all tie into the strikes... and yet most of this is nothing new and RWBY has still secured movies, a soft reboot, comics, and books. I agree completely with your list above of all the ways in which the series is struggling (massively) and yet RWBY has been "dying" for half its run-time. So is this the final nail in the coffin—the inevitable ending that's been a long time coming—or just another year where the fandom unintentionally cries wolf?

I'm not so naive as to believe that things were actually simple 'back in the day'—that's the nostalgia talking—but it still seems like things were simpler in comparison to what we've got now. TV and its media equivalents used to be—or at least felt like—a fairly straightforward journey of airing, ratings, syndication, cancellation, renewal, and then (eventually) the viewer securing a copy for themselves via VHS and DVDs. Now it's like, "What do I do with the newbie webseries eventually bought up by a major corporation and moved from a free watch, to a company-specific streaming watch, to a different, more expensive streaming watch, all of which has led to a decade of success with various spinoffs, but apparently this webseries still isn't making enough money to continue? Regardless, it and everything else I love to watch is inching more and more towards digital-only copies, a status that is inherently nerve-wracking, which means that if it does suddenly crash and burn (given that this is one of two series keeping the original company afloat) circulating this story and maintaining the fandom will be that much harder."

I find that depressing and I'm someone who thinks RWBY is pretty awful right now. I can't imagine what that ambiguity and the state of streaming media in 2023 feels like to fans still in love with the show.

So yeah. Idk how they intend to greenlight Volume 10 either.

[elbiotipo]

Notes on technology in Campoestela:

Most spaceships are single-stage-to-orbit. They have rather standard jet engines to lift off from the ground like a standard plane.

To get into orbit, they use a rocket engine that uses a solid fuel made of a HIGHLY combustible (yet stable) carbon-nitrogen compound which allows a better fuel than anything previous. This was first discovered by Iranian scientists who named it "Nafta".

(sí, Beto tiene que estacionar su camión espacial para cargar nafta)

Nafta was a big discovery on its time, allowing cheap SSTO rockets. Nowadays it's produced in many worlds and widely available. It also has uses as weaponry, but it's not that efficient.

Nafta is used for lift-off and orbital burns. For manuevering in space, there are small jets on the nose and tail of spaceships, similar to the Space Shuttle.

Spaceship piloting is still not an easy task, but it's comparable to being a jet pilot, about 4 or 5 years to master. Hard, but something on the reach of many people. People from the generation ship clans are a bit more used to it and often represent an outsized part of space pilots, but there's always many wellers (from down the gravity well) who get their licenses too.

The hardest thing is always landing. Especially given all the different gravities, atmospheres, orbits and such you have to learn in each different case, even with all the automation in the world. Many spacers feel confident sticking to one or at most two or three planets they know.

Pilots that only do shuttle or cargo runs in the same star system or planet are called "Starters", because they go around the same star. It's rude, but many spacers do it.

FTL travel is another thing. FTL travel is done using a ring-like structure that projects a bubble around the ship and takes it to a (completely made-up for the setting) dimension called the Aether. The Aether is one of the meta-dimensions (there might be more) that uphold reality. Conveniently, you can use it as a shortcut to travel between stars, which project "shadows" on the Aether.

The Aether has its own navigation, with currents and whirpools and areas of thick dark matter (which, for cinematic purposes, actually look like bright nebulae) There are routes that are easier to travel and navigate, and these are where the most visited worlds are. Even stars that are close in real space might be very hard to get in Aetheric space, so there's routes that can take you all over the galaxy in a week, while many other places are out of reach.

Navigating the Aether is very similar to flying a plane through a cloudy sky. Some spacer says it's even easier than flying in real space.

Staying on the aether depends on how much you can keep the fields upholding your "bubble". This depends on the energy of your ship. Big ships can travel all over the galaxy but they have enormous energy consumption requirements.

Smaller ships (such as Beto's Mastropiero) dock with a ring-like structure that allows them to make short jumps. The average jump in an explored route is about 12-48 hours, so it's much like aircraft flights.

Exploring new aetheric routes is something that is very romanticized but in reality is a tedious process of jumping, cataloguing new systems (many of them empty and useful only as refuelling stations), seeing where the streams go and end, how they change, and more.

There is no FTL radio or live communication. There is a kind of aetheric radar that allows you to see incoming ships and do some morse-like communication, but it's not very efficient, there is no such thing as a galactic internet (though it's said ancient civilizations had one)

Aether travel engines require very sophisticated manufacturing and materials, which were hard for humans to develop. This was long only in the hands of governments and corporations, but after the Machine War, accessible aether starships hit the civilian market.

Smaller ships are still used by governments (more like loose "leagues") to do what big ships can't: supply satellites and equipment to remote bases, small-scale transport of engineers, researchers, aether "meteorology" and exploration, etc. This is very much like bush planes in remote regions or the role of Aeroflot in developing the USSR.

While humans in the setting, like most species, are composed of many different leagues, cultures and organizations, their technology is remarkably consistent. This is because cheap and reliable spaceflight depends on very reliable standarization. Some of the spaceship parts used six centuries after Gagarin are still the same used in the Soyuz. The ISO is perhaps one of the most enduring legacies of human civilization, along with FIFA.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Matt Lavietes at NBC News:

Florida’s official tourism website quietly removed a landing page for the state’s LGBTQ-friendly travel destinations sometime in the past four months. The website for the state’s tourism marketing corporation, VisitFlorida.com, had an “LGBTQ Travel” section that no longer exists, according to archived versions of the site viewable on the Internet Archive. The landing page previously featured blog posts and videos related to the state’s gay-friendly beaches, Pride events and LGBTQ road trip ideas.

“There’s a sense of freedom to Florida’s beaches, the warm weather and the myriad activities — a draw for people of all orientations, but especially appealing to a gay community looking for a sense of belonging and acceptance,” the landing page used to read. “Whether you’re a couple seeking a romantic getaway or a modern family searching for kid-friendly fun, here are some LGBTQ-friendly destinations for you, throughout the Sunshine State.” The link where the LGBTQ Travel page had been (https://www.visitflorida.com/things-to-do/cultural/lgbtq/) now directs users to a general “things to do” landing page. It is unclear exactly when the landing page was removed, but it was available as recently as April 19, according to the Internet Archive. It is also unclear why Visit Florida, a nonprofit created as a public-private partnership by the Florida Legislature in 1996, removed the landing page and who was behind the decision. The website does continue to provide travel information for destinations specific to other minority groups, including Black and Hispanic travelers. Visit Florida did not immediately return a request for comment.

[...] Not all references to LGBTQ people or LGBTQ-friendly places have been removed from the site. For example, if one types “LGBT” in the site’s search function, five results pop up, three of them for venues described as “LGBT Friendly.”

Florida continues its erasure of LGBTQ+ people campaign, as VisitFlorida removed a landing page for the state’s LGBTQ+-friendly travel destinations recently.

See Also:

The Advocate: Florida tourism website takes down its LGBTQ-dedicated page