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#because the i'm fairly sure i'm paying more for the privilege
bunnyreaper · 6 months
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the price we pay
kinktober 10 - fuck machine
dom!ghost x sub!reader x sub!soap
(18+/mdni, fuck machine, cuckolding vibes, bondage, degradation, negotiated kink, anal)
Belonging to Simon Riley brought with it a litany of mysteries, both large and small—it's a privilege and a burden you and Johnny both willingly signed up for. 
Simon was always the first (and often only) one to know things in your relationships—plans, observations, feelings, they'd all sit inside his head for weeks or months, waiting for the perfect opportunity to come out. Over time, you've learned to spot the signs of a brewing plan or ruminating thought. This one you picked up on fairly quickly, having made a game of it with Simon. 
Simon sits across from you, lonely on the loveseat as you lounge on the couch, lost in his phone with a focused squint. It's nothing unusual, the two of you spending time together peacefully coexisting in silence—but you sense something amiss.
"You're planning something." You whisper, eyes glued to him as he taps at something on his screen. 
He pauses, gaze connecting with yours as he stares you down, resolute with a slight smirk on his face. "Yeah, and?" 
"How long now?" You ask.
"3 weeks." 
"I'm getting faster, Simon!" You punch the air in victory, kicking and flailing your legs in a delighted little dance that makes your lover smile. "Okay, continue, I won't ask any more questions." You giggle as you bite your lip and turn your attention back to the TV, willing yourself to not think about the surprise. 
So you weren't caught completely unaware when one day an oversized, nondescript box was delivered to the door. Johnny's away on an assignment without you both, meaning whatever it is could only belong to Simon, and likely part of whatever he's been working on over the past several weeks. 
Johnny went away aware something was coming, but not knowing what—because unlike Johnny, Simon could keep a secret from his lovers. You've been resorting to unfair tactics with Simon, waiting until he's in his blissed-out, post fuck state to probe him gently. 
You lay draped across Simon, both of you completely bare as you cuddle up—his hot cum still oozing out of you. 
Now's your chance, you think. Simon's always more relaxed post-sex, and you're not going to ask too much. 
Threading your fingers up to his hair, you stroke his scalp and smile as his eyes slip shut. "Is it a gift?" 
"I suppose." He whispers, eyes cracking open as he eyes you wearily, you can see the cogs turning as he debates giving you an inch, and worrying you'll take a mile.
You study him intently, wondering if you can chance another. "For me?" 
"For all of us." He reaches to your chin, tilting it as he leans in for a breath-stealing kiss that silences any further inquiries. "Now that's enough." 
You nod, beyond satisfied as you snuggle back into Simon's chest and try to temper your excitement.
The package arriving perfectly in time for the day Johnny gets home from his mission is very suspicious. 
You'd both spent the afternoon cuddling Johnny on the couch before Simon disappeared upstairs with his box and ordered you both to stay out of the bedroom until he allowed you in. Johnny had probed you for what you knew, as he tried to come up with ideas for what it could be. 
"Mebbes it's a puppy, I'd like tha'" Johnny comments idly as he plays with your hair, stroking through it as he snuggles up behind you.
You giggle, but shake your head, not convinced by that theory. "I'd hope he wouldn't keep a puppy in the box for that long, plus surely it would've made a noise by now." 
"Hmm." Johnny hums. "King size weighted blanket?" 
Simon's eyes had lit up when you had mentioned it in the past. "Ooh, one we can all snuggle under." You wriggle back into Johnny, imagining the comfort of being cuddled up with your boys and blessed with the extra weight. Then again, you didn't really need a weighted blanket when you had them.
You hear Simon's footsteps as he starts to come back downstairs, and you turn over to shush Johnny with a kiss. "Quiet, don't get us in trouble." 
"Aye, lass." 
After an afternoon of soft closeness and conversation, the three of you would usually take this time to head to the bedroom and fuck the missing parties' brain's out, to catch them up on everything they've missed—but the atmosphere is so different, knowing whatever Simon has been planning is just waiting for you upstairs. 
When Simon nods in the direction of the stairs, you both obediently rush to your feet, heading upstairs as he leads the way. 
"Johnny, be a good boy and go take a shower for me." Simon's voice is a stern command as he reaches the landing and stops Johnny from entering the bedroom. "I'll come and get you when I need you, yeah?" 
"Yes, sir." Johnny nods, his eyes widening as they connect with yours. 
Separating the two of you isn't a good sign for what's to come, and your stomach flips with fear as you're led into the bedroom wordlessly.
"Simon?" You ask, voice hesitant he starts to grab some of the items he's prepared. The whispered name doesn't get a response, so you try again. "...Sir?" 
Simon stops dead in his tracks, turning to you with that expression, the one that tells you his slipping into his dom mindset—head whirring with his plans, with considerations for all of your safety and welcome, and with anticipation for what's to come. "On the bed, now. Clothes off." 
You freeze for a moment, swallowing thickly before you rush to throw up every garment you're wearing—they're hastily discarded on the floor, only to be collected and folded when Simon hits you with a stern look. 
Once you're bare, you lay on the bed, uncertain of what's to come and yet trusting in the other man completely. 
Simon repositions you as he wants you, turning you over on your stomach before pulling up your ass into the air.
The large object at the foot of the bed covered by the sheet hasn't escaped your attention. "What's that?" 
Simon follows your gaze, to the covered mound. Silently, he pulls away the covering to reveal the contraption underneath. 
A fucking machine.
"Wow, fuck. What are you planning?" You gasp, already squirming in anticipation.
Simon steals your focus, turning your head back into the bed. "You'll see." 
His hands run over your naked behind, trailing down your legs before he gets to work gently attaching a spreader bar to your ankles—preparing you to be able to take the dildo attached to the machine. When he's done securing your ankles, he gets to work on securing your wrists together so you're truly helpless. 
You squirm as you feel the lube drip onto your exposed holes, his finger working the slick into your pucker and preparing you. Your head spins, as you begin to anticipate the machine fucking your ass, until you feel the cold metal of a plug and Simon's hand holding your rear. He works slowly, opening you up on a finger or two until he can get the plug inside.  With that done, he leans over, close to your head. 
"Love you." He mumbles as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Safeword?" 
"Red." You confirm, relishing in the feeling of being so safe with your boyfriend and dominant. "Love you too, Si."
"Good girl." 
He gives you a once-over, checking everything is in place, before he moves away. Next, he gets to work on moving the machine, you can just see in your peripheral as you crane your neck that he's moving things around—and then you feel the tip poke at your entrance, positioned so carefully so as to not truly enter you.
"Fuck." You shiver with anticipation, trying to wiggle back onto it only to be met with strong hands stilling your hips. 
You're already so needy, you're barely able to think of how the evening might unfold or what this will all lead to. Right now, you just want relief.  "Are you gonna turn it on?" 
"Not yet." 
You crane your neck to watch as Simon leaves the room, leaving you exposed and anticipating. 
The conversation between him and Johnny in the bathroom is muffled, barely audible over the blood pumping in your ears. 
When they make it to the room, Johnny is being led by Simon, due to the silk wrapped around his eyes. Simon lays him face down on the bed next to you, pulling off his towel and leaving him exposed alongside you. Johnny's already rock hard in anticipation, his cock rubbing against the mattress.
"Why's he blindfolded?" You ask, brain trying to piece together what is happening, what Simon has in store.
Upon hearing your voice, Johnny's hand twitches, wanting to reach out to touch you but knowing instinctively he isn't allowed. Were it not for the blindfold, the two of you would at least be able to share meaningful looks.
"For the surprise." Simon mumbles, as he starts to gather lengths of rope to tie Johnny up with—by the looks of it, your boyfriend was going to be bound head to toe beside you. 
"Oh, so I shouldn't ruin it?" You giggle, teasing Simon with the fact you could disobey and give the game away before he's ready. 
Your words are met with a scoff, and you watch Simon scowl as he pauses. "Not unless you want to trade places with him." 
As Simon gets to work tying Johnny's arms and legs, you realise very quickly that the last thing you want is to trade places with Johnny—at least you're seemingly in more of a position to get pleasure tonight, whereas it seems Johnny might get denied. You also realise that when the blindfold comes off, Johnny's going to be fucking furious. 
"Am getting tied up, ooh." Johnny coos, his tone playful as his lips curl into a smirk. 
You watch, fascinated, as Simon works deftly, securing the black rope over every inch of Johnny's gorgeous body. 
"If it helps, Johnny, I'm a little restrained too—ow!" You don't get to finish your sentence, as Simon cuts you off with a sharp spank. 
"What did I say?" He growls, attention turning to you for a moment to fix you with a steely glare. 
You pout, but bite your tongue from giving any further hints—you know what's good for you, after all. "Sorry, I won't give anything away, sir. Promise." Hopefully, the groveling will keep you in Simon's good books. 
"Yeah, could still be anything." Johnny comments, conspiring with you to keep you out of trouble—bless him. You had a feeling the two of you won't be so allied in a few minutes. 
It becomes clearer to you with each second that this setup is one of Simon's games to play you against one another, and tonight you're the lucky one, rather than the punished. Of course, it's all only temporary, and in the spirit of everyone's enjoyment—outside of the bedroom, you all try your hardest to never create imbalances between you.
"Jokes on us, he's gonna tie us both up and leave us in here, so he can get some peace, Johnny." You joke, trying to keep the mood fairly light.
"'m getting close to it." Simon is back to grumbling, as he finishes up his binds on Johnny's limbs. "Safeword?" 
"Red." Johnny confirms, his expression turning more serious. 
Simon presses a kiss to his forehead before he gets to work on undoing the blindfold."Love you." 
"Love you—" Johnny's words are cut off as his eyes flicker open, and he takes a second to crane his neck around to take in the scene beside him. "—bastard." 
"Don't like what you see, Johnny?" Simon chuckles, low and full of mischief, as he walks toward the bottom of the bed, standing near the machine that is so close to working its way inside you. 
"Fuck you." Johnny snarls, his eyes looking angered and desperate as he meets your gaze. He is, as you expected, furious.
And you hate that his reaction makes you leak—he wants you so bad, and he's being denied, completely at Simon's mercy. 
You want to get fucked so bad, whether it's by Johnny or the machine or Simon, you don't care. But tonight, you know the only thing getting stuffed in your cunt is the dildo on the fuck machine. "Please, sir, please turn it on." The words rush out of your mouth before you can stop them, need coursing through your body.
There's a low growl from both men before Simon speaks first. "Tell Johnny how much you want it." His words are accompanied by him adjusting the dildo at your entrance, getting ready to grant your wish.
Johnny's eyes soften when you look to him, but the fury within is still evident. You hope he sees the softness in your eyes too, hope he can see how helpless you are right now under Simon's spell that is making you complicit.
"Johnny, want it so bad... fuck." You wiggle once more, trying to get any kind of relief. Johnny grits his teeth through the next part. "Tell him to turn it on for me, please."
Another growl from Johnny as he thrashes against the mattress, unable to really do anything at all. "These fucking ropes, as soon as I get—" 
His sentence is interrupted by your moan, loud and uninhibited as the dildo breaches you, working itself in at a tortuously slow rhythm.
Simon is messing with the controls in your peripheral. "How's that?" 
"Slow." You whine, desperate for more already. The machine picks up its pace, fucking into you more steadily as it strokes against your insides. "T-thank you." 
Simon makes his way back to the side of the bed, standing behind Johnny as he taunts the man with his touch, stroking his face delicately as if to subdue and tame a wild animal.
"Is it better than him?" Simon asks, leaning into your field of vision.
You look up at him, mind hazy and unsure what response he wants. Does he want you to humiliate Johnny for him? Is he going to make you say you prefer the machine just to exert his power and control?
Simon senses your hesitation, your need for guidance in this moment, and his hand comes to stroke your face, much like he is already doing with Johnny. "Just looking for the truth, pet."
Your eyes flicker back to Johnny's, noticing the way they shine with something other than anger—fear and humiliation, as he waits for your response. Poor, sweet Johnny, already being broken down into submission by Simon. 
"... No." You whisper truthfully, gaze fixed on Johnny, so you can catch his relief. 
Simon tuts, walking back to the controls to turn them up as if to try and change your mind. "Shame."
The machine's pace increases, ramming the dildo into your cunt faster and faster and forcing the moans out from your pretty little mouth.
Johnny turns ferocious once again. "Yer not seriously gonna leave me here while a machine fucks ma girl instead of me?!" He pleads, desperate and mad and so confused, and yet still working his hips into the mattress for relief. 
"Your girl?" Simon snarls, returning to tug at the roots of Johnny's hair until his head is floating off the bed. 
Johnny swallows, winces at the sensation, and attempts to correct himself. "Our girl." 
Simon throws his head down with little regard, as if he's disgusted to even have touched your other boyfriend.
"My girl." His voice is all growl, threatening and territorial as he crawls onto the bed, ignoring Johnny and his need in favour of yours. "Here's how this is gonna go, Johnny. You're gonna be a good boy and stay there." 
You hear the cap of the lube open, and slick sounds as Simon lubes up his cock—both you and Johnny are breathless in anticipation. 
Simon's fingers then work the plug out of you, and you know exactly what is coming next. You're about to get double penetrated, while Johnny lays there and watches, powerless to stop it. He's wanted both men to take you at once for so long, only to be denied. 
Now it was going to happen without him. 
You feel Simon nudge his cock at your pucker, spreading around the lube there and chuckling at Johnny's livid reaction.
"You're gonna stay there, and me this machine are gonna fuck her better than you ever could."  
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00127am · 10 days
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signed with love and forever yours, jeno
postage. lee jeno & gn! reader cost to ship. 815 words
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i've come to love the summer more so than any other time of year. because you in the summer, the season which you hold closest to your heart--the one in which you are nothing but wholly yourself in every sense of the sentiment--is the you which made me realize just exactly what i feel for you. a conclusion i may not have reached if not for that summer.
the summer when i met you for around the hundredth time, in that muggy july heatwave that had haechan dragging us all down to the beach. a car ride we took with a begrudging reluctance and all four of the windows down. he said he was bringing along another friend, you, the pretty one i'd met always in passing. always in fleeting conversations that were always interrupted or your attention diverted by one of our other friends who you were always closer too. i didn't give your company too much thought then and i didn't think i would come to give it any further thought at all. but i did. do. i've never believed in love at first sight. but it seems that i must agree in some sense with those i previously critiqued, because there simply isn't any other expression to describe what it felt like to see you for the hundredth time.
i know it wasn't the same for you, wedged in the backseat between two men you had barely ever spoken to before (much too close with haechan and renjun to pay us any mind, though, i wish that you would pay me more mind). and i'm sure you had no positive feelings for me, not with the way jaemin was wedged into your side--forcing your skin to stick uncomfortably to the surface of my own. it was hot. so hot that i'm sure i was sweating, that i smelled, and that i looked no where near as breathtaking as you (though i doubt i ever do, heat or not). but you still made every effort to talk to me, to apologize for the way your knee was digging into my own. i didn't mind. i don't mind anything if you're the one who's doing it.
i think it happened there in the car. falling in love with you, i mean. because the rest of the day, i was consumed with nothing but thoughts of you. and how i wish i was haechan. haechan who had you throwing back your head in laughter and haechan who had his arms wrapped around your waist. haechan who pouted when you won whatever nonsense competition was being fought out between the two of you. and the same haechan who complained, loudly, when you refused to let him change the rules for the umpteenth time. if i were in his place, playing the role of the one closest to you--of haechan--i would never complain. though i guess i can't complain now either. not as jeno. because lee jeno has had the privilege of seeing you over and over again, even if not in the same capacity as lee donghyuck (something that drives me far past the brink of jealousy).
this summer, one far removed from that summer, i find myself to still be in love with you. and the season. but more so you. always you, it seems. because despite any and all efforts to move on from my schoolboy-esque crush--i can't. or maybe i'm not truly trying all that hard. or maybe (and most likely) all it takes from you is a single glance in my direction before my heart is beating five times too fast and my stomach has dropped to my knees. i'm easy when it comes to you.
i don't seem to mind.
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about jeno's love letters.
jeno's handwriting is composed of all caps. strong, sharp ends to letters with soft undersides when it comes to the curvature of their penmanship. like him, his handwriting is strong and rooted--deceptively harsh looking, only for that misinterpretation to be quelled with the sweet nothings they compose.
he writes pages upon pages about you, inspired by you, thinking of you. a diary that's only his to keep, perfect pages filled with endless sentiments and endearments. he's fairly positive that he would die if you ever saw it (and he's one hundred percent positive that he would if any of your mutual friends did). he'd much rather verbally tell you everything which he has scrawled down on the lined pages of his notebook, words only ever meant for you.
jeno hasn't confessed yet (jaemin, the only one to know about his gut wrenching crush says that he might never confess) but he's working up to it (he isn't). he has every hope that this summer, he'll finally chalk up the nerve. then again, he said the same thing last summer. and the summer before that. but this summer will be different, right?
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your mailbox
taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @firstdonutllamafarm @starjunjun @ikozen @lovesuhng @sour-chaos @jenaisnte thank you for supporting me! ♡
🧾 © 00127am 2024
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liskantope · 17 days
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I'm generally very fond of Kat Rosenfield and the way she puts her views on her podcast Feminine Chaos, but in one of the most recent episodes, she muses on the question of "is it better to desire or to be desired?" (apparently younger women tended more to prefer the latter, to the slight consternation of both Kat and her podcast partner Phoebe Maltz-Bovy), one of Kat's musings is a little hard for me to know how to digest.
I was thinking about this, maybe too philosophically, and... I think that, to desire things -- I mean, not just people, but to, I don't know, to desire anything, to, like, be able to inculcate that, that feeling inside of you, is to be kind of alive to possibility in a way that is exciting and that makes a person feel like kind of, I don't know, that feels like the fullest expression of your humanity. Whereas, to be desired, I mean, like, that can be nice, you know, in the sense of like, "yeah, I still got it", which is sometimes nice to feel, especially as I am, you know, advancing in middle age. But, I don't know, you're not gonna pay your rent with it, and it's not gonna enrich your life, particularly. All it does is, I mean, I think, in like the worst cases, foment a certain amount of anxiety, because like, you know, what happens when people stop desiring you, if like, if that's the better thing, it's got an expiration date on it. Whereas, desire, you can want stuff your entire life.
This is a blend of two sharply distinct elements for me. Firstly, her attitude about being desired not having much effect on one's life strikes me as reaching over-the-top levels of insensitivity to what un-partnered not-super-conventionally-attractive people have to think about -- it feels to me like an expression of (somewhat gender-tinted) "attractiveness privilege" if you will (Kat Rosenfield is, um, quite gorgeous by my lights and probably to many others as well). Seriously, being desired "doesn't pay the rent"?! (Arguably it reflects a more general sort of privilege -- Rosenfield long before 40 has established a great, fulfilling career, is happily married, and owns a decently nice home for instance -- that makes it hard to remember that desiring relatively basic things one doesn't have or feel particularly hopeful about getting can be a quite painful form of "wanting stuff".)
But it's so over-the-top that I feel fairly sure there's a much more charitable way to understand what she was getting at, that she was considering the question in a very contextual frame of mind and would probably immediately understand my (surely much more common-sense) point of view if it were put in front of her (which Phoebe did not do) and she were forced to be a little less, as she acknowledged, philosophical. At least, I'd like to think?
The other salient aspect of the above quote for me is that it includes a really beautiful take on what it means to desire, whose general terms have more and more reflected my thoughts as I get older. I honestly think the capacity to desire and the capacity to be desired are equally important in their own ways, and a lot of the importance of the former was encapsulated eloquently in Kat's explanation. And I feel somewhat of a bitterness about the value of being able to desire, a smaller version of the bitterness I feel about the value of being desired: I am becoming very concerned as of late that I no longer have the capacity to be strongly attracted to anyone romantically (or maybe even sexually), and I find that kind of terrifying actually.
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cipheramnesia · 1 year
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Not to be whiny, and feel free to tell me off if I am, but where did you get a "good" polycule? I used to visit a lot of queer/poly munches/meetups but always got bullied for being "the wrong kind of trans" (I'm amab nonbinary) or "too weird for us" (I'm also autistic), and most queer people I've met outside of those were not interested in keeping contact because they already had a polycule and I "wasn't worth it". Idk what to do, finding people to be with seems so easy for everyone here . . .
I don't think there's one right way to go about it, because relationships are so chaotic and personal, and polyamory makes it even more so.
For me a lot of it is like, a good polycule starts at home, with my nonbinary wife and myself being a pretty strongly committed couple, we both have a lot of the tools in the toolbox that support better relationships with new partners. Stuff like being good at talking about stuff and working together and not letting little stuff become huge deal breakers and just kind of finding ways we fit and work well as a couple and how to compromise with stuff that makes friction. We both have good grounding in accommodating each other and speaking up. Which makes it sound like more negotiation than love, but a big thing is how much love cements us.
And so you know when you meet new people you already know how to work with them and care for them and it still takes time to learn how it coalesces into the existing relationship but that main core compassion helps in the phase where everyone is feeling out one another's needs.
But there's privilege elements like, me being able bodied and my brain worms being fairly easy to cope with and having an okay employment situation and owning a house and being like at least okay looking by conventional western standards is all stuff that affects how other people see me as a partner, and it's sucky that these are factors, but I can't pretend they're not. I can function kind of as the cement holding our house together and it's not through some innate arcane poly magic, but because of social privileges built around able bodied etc etc people.
There's some dumb luck too, because frankly a lot the stuff I have is by chance more than design. We wouldn't own a house if my mom hadn't died of cancer and got a giant life insurance pay out for example. And having Your Space that can handle a partner or two makes a difference because the other thing is schedules are a damn nightmare. I have a girlfriend a only see every other month or so because we both have our own core and households and lives, and sure we don't wanna apply like hierarchy to relationships either but the time factors of partners you live with and partners you don't are substantially different. So, you know, you may find a lot of cases where it's not easy to see a partner who lives with one of their other partners. Life's just like that and I cannot stress enough how fucky schedules are in polyamory.
So like, basically take everything that's complicated about a monogamous relationship and make it more, and that's polyamory. On my end it was just a collection of factors mostly out of my control that ended up with myself and and my wife in a good place to build a polycule around ourselves and we met a bunch of people we fit well with. But it doesn't have to go that way either, maybe you just kinda date around, don't have to like settle down with a specific person or people. Or end up with a buncha queerplatonic friends together. Or something else.
I'm not super good at relationship advice, due to the mostly dumb luck stuff but for factors you can control, it's pretty much don't be a doormat about your needs, but do make sure you're accommodating what's also going to be the many, many different needs of multiple partners.
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frogsandfries · 1 month
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I'm so exhausted.
Okay, look, I know I seem to be expressing a lot of physical exhaustion lately, but this is more in regards to my increasing exhaustion with what the internet has become: One giant, inescapable, smothering advertisement.
I probably only want to cry about it right now at this very moment because I'm so tired, but I mean, honestly, if I'm not crying over it, I'm seething over it.
So you, a corporation, you don't want to pay your employees fairly or properly, and you then expect people who can barely afford their rent, never even mind their stupid health insurance or any of the other expensive life necessities, you really expect them to turn around and spend every last of their five remaining dollars on your piece of cheap shit instead of a cheap loaf of bread which will at least allow them to get through the next few days??? Unlike your stupid foot soak boot things, hey epsom your tired feet while you clean your apartment after work--multitask, grind, hustle!! But also, treat yo'self and self-care.
There's no fucking point in having fucking adblock, because when I go to research how to get better at my hobby, google wants to shove a dozen more products that I neither need nor want down my throat. The only way to improve a fucking smart phone is to make it a better shopping device. "Hey look, do you see something irl, maybe during your vacation or just out and about for the day, and you need to buy it right fucking here and now?? Buy our fucking phone because it will help you have fifty afterpays instead of the usual five that you're constantly balancing at any one fucking time."
As someone who used to be curious to learn, I still remember when the internet was seen as a way to exchange knowledge and information, and sure, if you're really, really good at using the internet, or if you're incredibly resourceful, and lucky, and maybe find a group on like Discord or Reddit or maybe Facebook, full of people who share your general interest, and maybe they have the knowledge you're asking for readily at hand.
But it's bullshit. The more and more ads in a row, video after video, song after song, that I have to wade through to get to the information that I came here for, the less interested I am in things like Youtube for information and learning. I really have cut myself off from learning, because increasingly for years, it's been harder and harder to actually use the internet to learn anything.
The internet has become a giant screaming relentless bright flashing fucking billboard advertisement and I'm just so.......done.
Look, frankly, I miss having books in my home. Books aren't very reasonable for lugging about the country to your next couch. But that lifestyle is behind me. Books don't constantly advertise at me. The index in the back of the book doesn't make me watch a fucking ad to figure out how I'm supposed to be doing this next part of my project or how I can up my skill at this thing I'm trying to learn or improve at.
And whenever the hell I decide to leave my meat-suit, donate my books to a library if no one in my family wants them.
I'm just so fucking exhausted. I'm doing relatively financially okay right now. I have money to pay my bills and feed myself and still grab a couple things most paychecks. It is currently often a choice between improving my household or taking care of my physical body, or taking care of my emotional well-being, but that's fine. A privilege, really, compared to the places that I've been.
But I don't have the buckets of disposable income that the internet seems convinced that I do.
The internet was supposed to be a beacon of information sharing and a new fucking era of communication.
I don't think anyone foresaw it being a capitalist hellscape. It feels like I can't move through reality or cyberspace without being screamed at on all sides to spend out every last dime on things I don't want, don't need, and am extraordinarily NOT interested in.
I'm so exhausted. I'm so sick to my bones, my guts, my soul.
The thought of escaping into the mountains, becoming a hermit, never to be seen again, becomes increasingly appealing.
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96percentdone · 1 year
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I loved Glass Onion and I genuinely think the movie slaps 10/10 but I woke up asking myself "why did the disrupters side with Miles in the first place." None of them have ever liked him, they all also know he's a stupid bitch, and while I'm sure he was bankrolling their needs to be successful, Alpha wasn't exclusively his for a long time, so she must have played a role in that, right? But it's obvious. It's because he's a white guy, with all the privilege in the world, and they assumed that because he was stupid they could use him to get/stay ahead, only realizing too late that this changed NOTHING about the system, so they still have to live with the consequences of it. More about just. Like. The entire movie. Under the cut.
Miles seems good at building an image and making connections; the one thing we see him achieve is convincing the world at large he is smarter than he is through outright lies, and even people who know he's an idiot believe his smaller lies with ease because they find his idiocy un-threatening. It just doesn't occur to them he could willfully fuck them over or act maliciously. Hence, Andi lets him into her home the night she dies; Blance says Andi was not afraid of Miles, and like...this is why. His image to the disrupters is of that idiot (who all except maybe Andi DO NOT LIKE) with ideas sometimes, so there's no way he would lie or kill, and they need him around. I think its significant that everyone else in the disrupters is in some way oppressed either through misogyny (Claire, Birdie) or race (Lionel, Duke), or both (Andi); Miles is a moron with like no creative merit of his own, but he has every privilege, so people are just more willing to believe and support things if he's backing them.
Now, we don't see a lot of Andi, but by contrast, from what we do see she's quite professional, brilliant, a little mysterious, even if she's also congenial. She has so many things going for her, and in a just world people like investors or businessmen or even just friends and strangers would see those things for what they are. Now I think anyone finds professionalism a little intimidating no matter who it's from, but because we live in a racist and misogynistic society, a black woman who carries herself with dignity and competence and assurance is inherently going to be received worse, far worse no matter her achievements, merits, or skills.
So....when push comes to shove, they choose Miles, and cut her out. They might face oppression on some axis or another, but they each have some privilege over Andi, and Miles? Well, he's an idiot, right? To paraphrase Birdie: he's a thing in their hands they can use. He's not a threat. But they're wrong. Miles is an idiot, that much is true, but he has all the power over them, and they gave him more of it. They don't have any other option now except TO depend on him, and cater to his needs and whims, and suffer the consequences of his actions, because without him, they lose everything.
Over the years of their alliance, they started believing they were equal to him, because they know they're the ones with real talent (even Birdie has some talent, it's just like nowhere near traditional intelligence), that they forgot they came as far as they did because of him. Not his skills or merits, but because he's good at looking a certain way to an audience by nature: because he was born a white guy. And now he's a billionaire white guy who pays for all their endeavors. They need him; he does not need them. More than once the movie establishes his 100000 connections he has now: they're replaceable. He could cast them out at any moment like he did with Andi, and it would mean nothing. He killed Duke on paranoid impulse because Duke meant nothing to him.
I think it makes a fun contrast between Helen and Blanc, another instance of an extremely marginalized person (a working class black woman) allying with a fairly well off white guy. She needs his help, because to her, he has skills she does not have, or so she thinks, although she also recognizes what he really has that she doesn't. Though she believes she's not very good at investigating or detective work, she gets a lot accomplished by herself, even before contacting him. She may be less experienced at it than the guy who is a detective for his own job, but she isn't less capable, something Blanc points out often throughout the movie. While Blanc's experience is definitely useful, his real asset is his privilege and larger voice. And that's where the contrast lies.
Miles is constantly just telling the other disrupters what they have to do, and bullying them into making bad deals, or screwing people over, because he can! He has that power! He does not think or consider anyone beyond himself and his own ambitions; it's all about him. The scene with Peg comes to mind. But Blanc is constantly asking Helen what she would like to do, and if she wants to back out. He supports her capability and never downplays it or insists he knows better or more than her, except when he tries to get her to stop drinking, which is born out of concern for her well being and the danger she could put herself in. He gives Helen the tools she needs to get the justice she deserves and steps aside. The whole movie he is giving her the reins. He knows he has privilege, and that's what she needs most from him, not his skills.
Helen takes Miles down through her own merits. She does most of the investigative work, finds most of the relevant clues, understands many of the plans without being told and even comes up with her own, and carries out justice on her own terms. It's her story. Blanc is just the support. Their allyship is born from respect and mutual understanding, while the disrupters never respected Miles, and he never did them. The disrupters (bar Andi) were all using one another to get ahead, and gain/sustain their power, without caring about anyone else, and inevitably that backfires on them. You can't save yourself from systemic oppression by attempting to use it to pull yourself up. You're still just playing the game that way, not escaping it. Leeching off someone's systemic privilege does not give you their power; it gives them power over you. It reinforces the system in a way where you get ahead, but they're never going to end up on top.
Helen does. Because she took the system and burnt it to the ground. She can't get what she deserves if she plays by their rules and their game, so she never does. She constantly challenges and undermines it, and so she wins. She has support that enabled her to do so, but its on her terms, and he steps aside to let her.
There are those like Miles who don't even understand the how and why they're on top and assume its their own merits but its actually just an intangible structure entirely beyond their control built off the backs of other people, and those like the disrupters and Peg and Whiskey who believe they can use the system to get themselves the power and privilege they want without changing anything or caring about anyone else but ultimately still suffer and live under it. There are those like Andi who hope that playing by the rules with integrity and merit will win the day even if it never could (Andi), and there are the ones see everything for what it is. The ones who see their privilege and use it to either empower those who need it to change without taking credit or control, like Blanc, and of course...the ones that that action. People like Helen who know better than anyone else exactly what's wrong, and will do anything and everything they can to put an end to it.
Idk. I don't know if I said anything new. I'm sure most people who watched the movie had a lot of the same thoughts. Also I'm white so many nuances specific to race specifically likely escaped me. I just kinda wanted to articulate some of the feelings I had, even if they've been said millions of times before.
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goosetrainer · 9 months
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Mari's Last Minute Tera Raid Guide #4 - Delphox
HI I'm back and this time it's not even that last minute!
Ngl this Delphox would probably be 300% easier if you used a flash fire Heatran, but not everyone has access to other games/people who will trust them with legendaries so I'm keeping this post common-pokémon friendly.
The best non-transfer solo here is Armarouge, with Ceruledge coming in a close second. This means that violet players with no access to internet/scarlet playing friends are at a disadvantage, but it's not impossible! You just have less wiggle room and need more tera shards(/sheer luck in tera raids).
That said, ANNOUNCEMENT:
now that scarvio have Home compatibility, I can let people temporarily borrow my own pokémon. I have a steel tera Armarouge you can use to defeat your Delphox, the only thing I ask for is that you keep it just the time strictly necessary for the fight, then return it. Just in case someone else needs it. (Home software on Switch and Home app on mobile necessary - sorry I still won't pay Nintendo for the privilege of using my own internet)
It's common knowledge that axes are super effective against mages :3c hehe
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Foreword, since there are effectively 3 builds, let me give you a summary of Delphox's moves so that I don't have to repeat myself. She'll steal your tera charge every x turns starting from turn 4 (this is important for Ceruledge). She has an early, fairly long shield (appears either after you got her life down a bit, or after 2-3 turns); she wipes her own stat changes towards the middle of the shield and then never again; uses Nasty Plot once around the same time (I don't think on the same turn, I've seen it happen 2 turns after her stat wipe); right after her shield is broken, wipes your own stat changes and uses Magic Room, just once. After the Nasty Plot she may act twice in some turns.
She's got a timid nature (268 speed) and high special attack and special defense, offensive moves are only special. Her Will-O-Wisp and Fire Blast are effectively useless because of the following options having Flash Fire (which should be neutralized at the end of the shield but for some reason the AI never made her use her fire moves in that turns, when I went? Meh), Dazzling Gleam is by far her least dangerous move, with Psychic being the more dangerous one, because of the chance of lowering your special defense.
Magic Room renders held items useless for 5 turns, but by the time it happens you should be ready to kill in 3. Just be mindful of the Shell Bell healing not working.
NPC allies don't do much, the best you can hope for are probably the ones that can paralyze her (dudunsparce, umbreon... bellibolt I think?).
Delphox's hidden ability does not work in raids, so treat it as if it didn't exist :3
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Armarouge lv.100
Tera Type: Steel (preferred) or Fire (cheaper)
Ability: Flash Fire
Nature: Modest/Mild (Quiet could work too if you don't wanna waste a mint)
Held Item: Shell Bell
IVs: max in HP, sp. atk., sp. def., maybe speed
EVs: 252 sp. atk., 252 sp. def., 4 HP
Moveset:
-Calm Mind (level up)
-Mystical Fire (move reminder)
-Acid Spray (TM)
-Flash Cannon (TM) (only with steel tera type) OR Flamethrower (level up) (only with fire tera type)
Usage:
Two options here because tera shards are hard to find, if you don't already have enough. Steel tera works better both offensively (super effective stab) and defensively (with Flash Fire, terastallized Armarouge resists the fairy and psychic moves, and is immune to the fire ones). Fire type is just easier to find, any Charcadet you meet in the wild will have that. I would have kept that one if I hadn't caught a steel one in the event, some time ago (don't worry I still tried a fire one without saving, just to be sure it's doable). A bit more difficult because you lose some fire power (heh) and the psychic resistance, but it worked. Strategy: Calm Mind x6, some random offensive moves until Delphox nullifies her stat debuffs, then you can use one or two Mystical Fires to make her special attack drop before the Nasty Plot, so she ends up neutral at best (optional for steel tera, recommended for fire tera - because of Psychic, and especially if she already debuffed your sp. def. once or twice), then 3x Acid Spray, then Flamethrower or Flash Cannon. Important: make sure you use the 1-2 Mystical Fires and all 3 Acid Sprays AFTER she nullifies her own stat changes, or you'll have to reapply them. Use Y to check her status if you lost count, she should have at least the 6 red downward arrows on special defense before you break her shield. Also important: on terastallizing. You can terastallize as soon as it's available if your Armarouge is a steel tera, but if it's a fire tera wait until after you're done debuffing her (making it a pure fire type will make it lose its innate psychic resistance, exposing it to more frequent Psychic the move, which will hit harder). ONLY after you're done setting up and terastallizing, break the shield with Flamethrower/Flash Cannon (or Mystical Fire if you're scared), watch her wipe all your Calm Mind boosts :') but don't bother reapplying those since her weakened special defense should still be there. You won't be able to heal now, so focus on spamming your Flamethrower/Flash Cannon until the end. Flash Cannon kills in 1-3 turns depending on randomness, Flamethrower takes a bit more. A fire tera Armarouge may benefit from using Mystical Fire in the first turns just to make sure it doesn't die, but Flamethrower hits harder - just make your calculations based on how your defenses are looking. You COULD go KO once while still having enough time to win, actually it's better for the fire tera (you get your psychic resist back!). Worst case scenario you try again~
TL;DR: Calm Mind x6, random attacks until enemy's stat wipe, then:
-fire tera: 1-2 Mystical Fires for survivability, Acid Spray x3, terastallize, Flamethrower until broken shield, then Flamethrower or Mystical Fire until death. May die once, don't worry, keep attacking.
-steel tera: (Mystical Fire optional) Acid Spray x3, terastallize as soon as you can, then Flash Cannon till the end.
PROS:
-somewhat common pokémon (appears mostly in set locations)
-can use the default tera type
-only one regular ability so you can't get it wrong (unless you caught it in a tera den and got the hidden one)
-innately resists the entire moveset of the opponent and has options to improve own survivability
CONS:
-functionally Scarlet exclusive
-no healing at all during Magic Room :(
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(Hard to tell, but the Armarouge on the right is a once-dead fire tera)
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Ceruledge lv.100
Tera Type: Steel (this time it's mandatory! I tried with Fire but I kept dying)
Ability: Flash Fire
Nature: Adamant/Lonely (I wanna say Brave too but speed actually helps a bit here. I wouldn't risk it)
Held Item: Shell Bell
IVs: max in HP, atk., sp. def., speed
EVs: 252 atk., 252 sp. def., 4 HP
Moveset:
-Swords Dance (level up)
-Bitter Blade (level up)
-Clear Smog (level up)
-Iron Head (TM)
Usage:
SO. I had to tinker with this one a bit and it lowkey sucks when compared to its redder cousin, did it just out of love for the violet peeps. You deserve good things too Ceruledge has a couple of big drawbacks against this particular opponent: no way to boost its own special defense at all, and no psychic resistance. Bitter Blade's healing kind of offsets these, but the fact that the only move it doesn't resist at the start of the battle is Psychic means that Delphox will keep using THAT, dealing quite some damage AND almost certainly lowering Ceruledge's special defense at least once. For this reason, your number one priority is TERASTALLIZE INTO STEEL ASAP You have no choice but use 3 offensive moves in the first 3 turns. If you wste just one turn you're getting your tera charge stolen and need to use one more turn to recharge while you get mercilessly Psychiced and probably die. At least 2 of the starting moves will probably need to be Bitter Blades, to keep your health up and out of KO zone. Better do that before the shield goes up, as it'll make your recovery worse. When you're safe behind your newly acquired steel-with-fire-immunity type, you can take a breath and set up your attack with 3 Swords Dances - watch your HP, especially if you saw your special defense drop, use a Bitter Blade to heal in between the Swords Dancing if necessary. You don't have stat-lowering moves so the opponents mid-shield wipe doesn't affect you, but keep an eye on it nonetheless because shortly after that she'll use Nasty Plot and that does affect you - if your health is low use Bitter Blade to heal and then Clear Smog, if not do Clear Smog right away. When you're not healing or keeping that fox's special attack at bay, and after you've used your 3 Swords Dance, use Iron Head to break the shield. Once the shield is broken you're: -back at square one with your attack boosts -technically with no Shell Bell. This is where you alternate Swords Dance and Bitter Blade and Iron Head - 2 Swords Dances in total should be enough, Bitter Blade to heal if needed, Iron Head when your attack is at least at 4+ (4 green upwards arrows on the status menu, equivalent to 2 Swords Dances) and not in immediate KO danger. Remember that Iron Head won't heal you at this point. You have the option to use Hang Tough cheers to help with the defenses I guess - but never before you terastallized, don't waste time. Also in my limited experience focusing on Swords Dance is better, more attack means more absorbed HP with Bitter Blade.
TL;DR: 3x offensive moves (Bitter Blade preferred) right away, terastallize ASAP, 3x Swords Dance with Bitter Blade in the middle to keep HP up, Clear Smog ASAP after Delphox's Nasty Plot, Iron Head when safe until shield broken. Then max 2x Sword Dance with Bitter Blades to heal when necessary, again Iron Head(s) when safe. Be aware of the possibility of having to try again if you get your special defense lowered too much.
PROS:
-somewhat common pokémon (appears mostly in set locations)
-only one regular ability so you can't get it wrong (unless you caught it in a tera den and got the hidden one)
-innately resists fairy and fire
-actually has a recovery option during Magic Room
-fast attack boosting
CONS:
-special defense can only go down :(
-no psychic resist until terastallized
-non-default tera type needed
-attack boosts needs to be reapplied
-functionally Violet exclusive
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shadowmaat · 8 months
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"Artists don't deserve money"
It's a sentiment I'm sure has always existed, but it's one that's become nastier and more entitled in recent years and now with the Hollywood strikes going on, folks are getting even pettier about it.
I have such a hard time wrapping my mind around that kind of greed and selfishness. It basically boils down to "I want this thing but I shouldn't have to pay for it" and wow, is that terrible. This isn't about how The Poor™ deserve to have nice things, though it frequently gets framed that way. It's about people deserving to be fairly compensated for their work. Acting as if artists should be somehow "above" the struggles faced by everyone else is anti-intellectual bullshit. Being "creative" doesn't mean you can live off of sunshine and praise, you arrogant fuckers. Humans still need to eat, still need to pay rent and bills, still need access to healthcare, and all those other dirty little details of life.
I think part of what bothers me about a lot of the pissing I've seen is that it comes from people who are arguing that they actually have to WORK for a living! They have to slog through shifts in restaurants and retail shops, or they work in factories or as delivery drivers or blah blah blah. If THEY don't get special privileges, why should anyone else?
NEWS FLASH, FUCK LORDS! You deserve to afford the basics, too! No one is saying that minimum wage jobs shouldn't pay better. In fact I think I've seen tons of people talking about the need to raise minimum wage by a significant amount due to the horrific cost of living. "Pay the writers" doesn't mean "don't pay the CSRs." FFS.
A lot of the writers and actors and other low-tier workers that you're shitting on could also be classed as minimum wage. A lot of them also need to hold down multiple jobs to stay alive. And none of them are receiving fair compensation by their studio employers.
If it isn't fair for a Starbucks barista to be cheated out of their earned wages then it isn't fair for Thug #2 to be cheated, either. EVERYONE deserves to be paid fairly. Except billionaires. And they're the ones fighting to prevent the rest of us from getting the money we deserve because it'll mean less money for them to hoard.
Stop tearing each other down and start tearing down the dragons of the world instead. You want money? They have it. Let's start redistributing that wealth.
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A sort of serious question you totally don’t have to answer, but as someone I respect in the camp world I’d definitely value your opinion on: what do you think of the labor ethics of standard camp practices? I’ve never worked for a Girl Scout camp, though I attended them as a kid, but I’ve worked at other national org camps and well as local non profits, and at all of the resident programs I’ve done, I feel like camp employees (both seasonal and year round) are vastly overworked and underpaid. I’m not sure how GS camps do it, but at camps I’ve worked at, working 23 hrs/day for 6 days a week, 7-10 weeks in a row is not uncommon. With average pay, say, $600/week, even if you only count the 15 or so waking hours counselors are working, that comes out to like $6 and hour. Considering that counselors are also on duty all night….I don’t even want to do the math. Am I crazy?? Are other camps not like this??? I know some of the justification for not paying more is because housing and food are provided but it’s not like counselors usually have the option to stay or eat offsite. Idk I know a lot of camps—especially non-profits—don’t make a ton of money, and I think they’re important for kids, but it feels like we really overlook the physical and mental well-being of staff to run them. So I guess I’m wondering, have you seen these issues at camps? Do you think most camps are ethically run?
So this is a huge can of worms in the camp industry and I know it's a touchy subject with a lot of followers and camp people in general. I think it varies A Lot between camps. Like, an absolutely wild amount.
First, $600/week for an overnight camp is fairly high in a lot of places. I won't get into what the overnight camps I know of pay, but suffice to say it is significantly less than that. The hourly wage (should you dare to do the math) is appalling. Hours wise we also less in my council: we have 2 hours off a day (we talked about changing to 3/day also) and then 5 day work weeks for the most part. A lot of camps (my old council) did a one night a week off as well.
Day camps are different, because many have to pay hourly, and many pay above minimum wage to be competitive. I know some camps (day camps) paying $18-20/hour (or more). Obviously this is not all camps, but especially in places like California and the Eastern seaboard, where minimum wage laws are different. We now pay hourly for 0-12 hours during the school year, although not at that rate, and a daily rate for overnight programs. The overnight rate is a significant increase from when I was seasonal staff.
Full time staff are also low on the pay rate, and I see a lot of FT camp director positions in the 35-40k range of salaries. Sometimes year round housing is included, but how much of a perk is it really (also a big debate) to live where you work and never really escape? Unfortunately, that extends to a lot of nonprofit jobs. I made a little over $17/hour when I started, including when I transitioned to exempt, but I've negotiated and earned many raises and bonuses, so now I make not a great wage, but not a terrible wage, and better than a lot of camp positions (I'm not technically camp, but it's a similar pay scale).
I think from a "reasoning" standpoint, it's difficult because staffing is such a huge expense and A Lot of funders don't want to pay for it. Many, many grants are restricted and can only be used for program supplies, or maybe food. Staff salaries though? Difficult to fun through grants. So you have to pay for them with kid's fees. But how do you do that and still be affordable? Still be a price people are willing to pay, beating out the competition? I think that's where a lot of camps struggle, but also, camp staff are necessary, you can't run camp without them, so how do you balance that budget?
Is it ethical to significantly underpay and overwork? Not really. It's bad for staff mental health and it decreases the pool of staff to privileged individuals who don't need the money. But I think that it is getting better, in a lot of places. Not everywhere, but a lot of places. And the conversation is there. I expect that camp wages and hours will drastically change in our lifetime. Will there always be camps that exploit legal loopholes? Yes, absolutely. But I think that the camp industry is changing, and it's going to change more.
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artemisia-black · 2 years
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I’ve been working my way through your fics (and been enjoying them immensely). I appreciate your worldbuilding efforts as well. I noticed that you mention dowries in your fic. It stuck out to me because I’d just been doing some research into that to figure out how marriage might work in the world of HP. Do they still do marriage settlements? I mean, I can see how finances would be important in a world that probably can’t sustain pensions etc. (Ten thousand a year!) However, dowries and settlements fell out of fashion when women were allowed to own things again within marriage. The Wizarding world does seem to allow women freedoms like that. So, I was just wondering what are your thoughts on dowries and marriage contacts/settlements? Are they normal? Is it just the pure blood upper class? If so, why?
Thank you so much for both the ask and reading my writing, I really appreciate it :)
Ooh OK.
In the Mrs S-B -verse (that sounds far more pretentious than I intended lol) dowries and contracts are purely a practice amongst the pureblood upper class and this is based on the following from canon:
During the Tapestry scene Sirius says,
“If you’re only going to let your sons and daughters marry purebloods your choice is very limited."
While this is about blood purity, it also has connotations of keeping property/power within a small group, much like how the various branches of the Hapsburgs all intermarried.
2. The fact that Sirius inherits Grimmauld when he is apparently serving a life-sentence in a prison that is ostensibly inescapable, indicates that the inheritance of property is patrilineal or operates along some right of Primogeniture.
Also if Walburga's portrait is any indication, I'm fairly sure she would have disinherited him if she could have.
Side note: I have a whole HC, that Harry is able to inherit because Sirius names him as his firstborn son.
3. When Sirius dies, Phineas says:
“Am I to understand,” said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry’s left, “that my great-great-grandson — the last of the Blacks — is dead?”
This is factually incorrect as Bellatrix, Narcissa, Tonks and Draco are still alive, but is an interesting turn of phrase which indicates that once someone has married 'out' they are no longer considered a Black. Or this at least indicates Patrilineal tendencies that are anathema to gender equality (and this is why I write Pietas Regulus as being a bit sexist).
I agree with you that there probably isn't a wizarding pension system and I like to imagine the pureblood elite as the idle rich. I even have an eyeroll to the reader with this line,
'According to Orion, idleness was a privilege reserved for the working man and was morally objectionable.'
I also think that families obsessed with lineage would want a couple to get to baby-making almost immediately and I can't see them encouraging a woman to have a career. So I explain my reasoning for dowries, via Sirius in D&D, :
‘Plus, most pureblood women forfeit their inheritance as part of a wedding contract, hence ridiculous dowries.’
And in my view, this dowry then pays for their lifetime upkeep (plus a little for the children to inherit).
Thanks for the question, I loved answering this :D
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lunarsilkscreen · 26 days
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Digital Card Games
There are two major card games on mobile right now; Magic: The Gathering Arena, and Hearthstone. Sorry to the other games; I'm sure you're very fun to play.
Hearthstone enjoyed the privilege of ensnaring its customer base from WoW, a move that FFXI tried previously by charging extra for its Tetra Master add-on and subsequently discontinued for lack of interest. And because of that fan-base; enjoyed a rapid growth and boost to sales, as well as outpacing every other card game app in the market by a wide margin.
Because of the digital nature of this card game app; Hearthstone was able to employ mechanics {game features; not the profession} that offline card games could not--Such as stealing cards from your opponent for the duration of the game and shuffling randomly generated cards into your deck.
As well as many transformation and morphing capabilities that were intuitive and much easier for a player to understand than Magic was able to do with physically printed cards.
Hearthstone is the current leader of digital cards. However--because of MTG's rabid customer base; Hasbro is likely deciding to also transition to a mostly online format. This is because it is much cheaper to run, and the profits are much higher for cards you don't have to physically print.
Despite this; MTGAs design doesn't really lend itself to a digital front. And this is also despite the many MANY years MTG:Online, MTGs former digital card app having been available on PC for much, much longer. (Yes, they run at least TWO digital store fronts, and Hearthstone still manages to beat them out.)
This is because of the card's and overall game design being based around physical cards and a tabletop. MTGA has started to diverge in mechanics from the tabletop variant however; likely to try to outcompete hearthstone and try to be more user friendly...
Despite that competition; MTGA card boxes have at least a paragraph on every single card you play. Make games slow and difficult to pay attention too.
Even though hearthstone is feeling the bloat itself; especially if you play with randomly generated cards for your entire deck, they seem to be easy to wrap your head around exactly what a card you can't remember what the exact mechanic for does.
And after a couple hundred cards, it's near impossible to memorize every single detail.
The difficulty with hearthstone is trying to handle complex mechanics with it's much shorter timer. But it's much easier to understand all the cards being played, and quicker to form a strategy. And Despite MTGA's much longer timer, new players can expect to hit the limit much easier with just a couple cards.
This is extraordinarily evident in MTGAs newcomer challenges. Spark Mode, and Color Challenge. As many players start running into make poor decision and just not having enough time to read what's essentially the length of a YA[young adult] novel once a turn.
I'm a very fast reader, and much faster on the uptake than most, AND I'm a seasoned MTG player. And despite that; I cannot keep up. It's no surprise if other players have trouble with that as well.
It's not an intelligent thing. It's an issue with accessibility as well. Players requiring a screen reader have no chance without memorizing the extensive library of cards. And new players? Many won't try to play without having been seasoned on the physical format with other players to have helped them in the beginning.
I'm pointing out the extreme negative that MTGA currently displays, but despite this; I bet a lot of hearthstone players are turned off when encountering the extensive reading you might find yourself while at the bottom of silver rank.
As players just starting out have to face being pounded into the dirt while learning how to play the game at the lowest ranks in both games. And waiting for another player to get a bad draw to win a challenge to unlock features isn't very fun while also reading pages upon pages of varying card interactions.
Again; I'm fairly quick at reading and understanding card interactions, and the beginning mode is *not* an easy thing to jump into. I might be older, but I'm not *that* old.
This isn't even a "good ol days" when card effects were rare and special, weenies were white and green had the stompies. That was easy to get into for a new player; but boring to continue playing.
Hearthstone's limitations are it's previous benefits; tight small interface, easy to understand and non-cluttered. But it can't grow without addressing the limitations in its own growth, and being displayed and easy to understand on screen.
MTGAs limitations are as described above, but every single permanent (in play card) is hard to keep track of (not including trying to keep track of your lands that can't stack)
And despite what it knows as a reading experience, MTGA tries to retain its physical format in the digital world, and hide what your card does, by forcing you to tap and hold everything to read it (making reading and comprehension slower) but opting to display the image over the card effects. Discouraging even trying.
Seasoned players would say; "Well yea, but once you know the meta..." And then when you're hit with the off-meta deck, and you're penalized for reading and misunderstanding the off-meta interactions, you blame the opposing player for making you read more as the reason you lost. Right?
Hence why I chose to talk extensively on Hearthstone's RNMeta. This makes it easy to understand where the flaws and weaknesses are in both apps.
MTGA is going to be much hard to organize, and I'm saying this solely because that's the way it is on the table, I would suggest combining auras with the cards they're attached to, and stacking lands that behave similarly together so that you can see your mana base efficiently. (Yes even when they're tapped, thank you.
"Excuse me, how many land do you have?"
"Don't touch my land you jerk!"
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rhaenyras · 7 months
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I've done sex work. There's a lot of nuance here, and a lot of people doing what they can to get by. A lot of woman in it are in horrific situations and can't get out. I got out, but I still get passed on jobs and get humiliated by people weekly because this isn't something you can hide. It ruins your life in many ways, but most people who get into it didn't have much of a choice (though that's a whole other monstrously large and nuanced conversation, and involves a lot af trafficking, manipulation, and abuse), and getting out is both difficult financially, and in terms of safety. Even with an onlyfans someone does 'by choice'.
At the end of the day I agreed with men on things I didn't agree with for three main reasons:
My own safety. Anyone in this line of work will tell you it's dangerous, even when 'just' online. It's far safer to nod along with something you disagree with than voice opinions that get woman in this line of business stalked and, terrifyingly often, killed. It hurts to do. It really does. But nodding along to a man ranting and putting down other woman kept me safe when I was in the potentially dangerous moment. It doesn't feel good to do, and I'm sure there are SWs who do believe it. But at the end of the day, a lot don't, but don't really have much of a choice. You learn that lesson quickly. It's safer to agree with a man insulting woman than to argue and risk yourself.
I needed to put food on the table. I needed a roof over my head. I needed to survive. Disagreeing meant having less of an audience, even if you ignore the personal safety side of things. Disagreeing meant less money. Less money meant I couldn't eat, couldn't pay my bills, and was risking homelessness. I couldn't properly talk about feminism and my beliefs when my basic needs often weren't met, and meeting them was basically killing me, which leads into point three.
This isn't just a SW thing, but when you can barely survive and are in a dangerous situation, most of your focus is on getting out. I've seen a comparison to those who live with homophobic or racist family members. Sometimes you can reason with those people... but if they're abusive and your safety and wellbeing are on the line? You're just trying to keep your head down until you can get somewhere safe. As a teen in a dangerous household it's getting out on your own, and for many of those people (hey it's me!), SW is one of the only outs, which puts us right back in a dangerous and precarious situation.
There are some horrible SW's. Just like there are horrible people everywhere. There are people who (using your example) fully do believe they're the hottest thing ever and think all gamer woman are gross and fat. But by and large, SW's are trying to survive. It's a complex topic, and I don't expect people who haven't done it to understand. At the end, I was making bank. I was able to buy a car and a house in a different area of the country, was able to go to school, and was able to get out. That's extremely uncommon, and I'm still going to struggle with PTSD for the rest of my life. I'm one of the lucky ones.
Basically, TD:DR: survival matters more than trying to teach exploitative men about feminism.
first of all, thank you for reaching out, anon! i am very aware that my point of view on this topic is partial and privileged, considering I've never done sex work, even though i also come from a less than ideal financial & family background myself.
even from my ignorant assessment of the whole issue, i was still able to understand that most times it's just a matter of prioritizing your own safety. which is totally understandable and valid and also the main reason why i exempted escorts, street and club workers from the discussion. but, as you said, even when you are "fairly safe" thanks to OF and such, you still need to keep making money, so you don't wanna alienate your audience with off-putting takes on feminism and the like. i get it. i also had to bite my tongue quite a lot on my old workplace because my former elderly employer relied on me to be a comforting non-threatening understanding presence in his life, who also was expected to pull her load of emotional labour for him, apart from the work i was actually (niggardly) paid for. i am glad i got out from that emotionally manipulative and unbalanced dynamic, so i cannot imagine the sense of sheer relief you must have felt when you left sw behind. the feeling of not being able to speak your mind over concerns of physical safety/social expectations etc. is a struggle that most afab people can relate to, i believe.
i suppose most of my frustration comes from the (wrong?) assumption that some sex workers do have a choice when it comes to their career path because their initial situation wasn't so dire to begin with, or generally, they wouldn't irreparably jeopardize their safety or income if they started calling out and banning some very problematic language circulating on their online profiles. and i believe this because I've seen it happen for very popular OF celebrities who had big numbers on ig too. of course i can understand that models and sex workers with not as many followers/subscribers/interactions would think twice before they show that same level of outspokenness and "unpleasantness", lest they scare off the paying crowd. as you said, it's nuanced. in a capitalistic misogynistic system that's far from being perfect and fair, we all are asked to sacrifice some of our beliefs when we have to actually reckon with the practicalities and shortcomings of the day-to-day.
for my part, im more than glad to openly call myself a feminist and put myself on the receiving end of very violent aggressive commentary online, since thankfully i know that my monthly income and life(style) won't suffer from it, even though i must admit that sometimes my mental health does suffer from all the exposure and i feel the need to retreat and recharge. the point is, i do have that choice while many sex workers don't and that's awful. I believe that what makes the effort worthwhile and less exhausting, is knowing that we are not alone in the fight, knowing that there's someone else who has our back when we cannot fight for ourselves, whether we are too mentally spent or just trying to make a living by not scaring away a client. i deeply hope that sex workers around the world know this and that they never feel alone when they are asked to bite their tongue in front of a sexist insulting potentially dangerous man
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necessaryvent · 2 years
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Unpopular opinion rant.
I have been scrolling twitter and finding some comments that are really beginning to piss me off. I'm sure I'm taking them too personally but I do resent the generalisations.
I have seen people completely shit on any kind of residential rental property landlord. Just a blanket hate on everyone who owns an investment property. Apparently we are all scum who want to profit off others. We are all heartless and rich AF and it's only because of generational wealth that we can afford to have more than one property.
I'm calling bullshit. But (as chicken as it sounds) I don't feel safe to do so publicly.
I am not right wing. Nothing my (kind of ex) husband and I have had together has come from generational wealth. Nothing either of us has rented out has turned any profit but rather covered costs (barely if at all - I'll get to that). My in-laws might have given a small (and I mean small) handout to my husband when he bought his first house for like $125000 or something ridiculously cheap like that in the early 2000s (keep in mind we are millennials and not boomers). They probably gave $5000 or something as a gift, which I am not saying doesn't help but it hardly makes him a rich brat who didn't have to do the bulk of the work. And honestly his parents were so tight fisted and controlling with money all his childhood (long story) that it actually caused trauma. And I mean actual trauma. Not a brat crying about not getting spoiled 'trauma'. I mean, actual genuine fear and anxiety about spending money, causing him to become controlling, angry and financially abusive (where did he learn it from huh) for a time. That's a bit of a side issue but this is my rant so too bad.
I am not in any way trying to make out that we didn't grow up with privileges. I am just saying that if you do have some privilege (ie your parents owned your home growing up and you never went hungry) you should appreciate it and not cry poor like his parents did. I could say they were the real jerks because having a property portfolio of like 6 houses was more important to them than giving their kids a childhood (they'd cry poor because they were too focused on their own retirements and not on living in the moments with their kids) but even then they were never unfair landlords and did a lot of work on their houses themselves.
Not all of us ask for unfair rent. Not all of us are heartless monsters who don't care about people having places to live. Tenants aren't angels either.
Last year we were finally ready to buy a property we could love. Something we envisioned to be our forever home (that's a long story - read back on this journal). We did not choose wisely (the new house was a wise choice - I mean what we chose to do with the other house was not wise) but we had good intentions in trialling our first property as an investment. We couldn't really cover costs just with rent (not even close) but we wondered if we could cover the mortgage and landlord insurance, and the bank (plus the maths) said we could survive with 2 properties in our names, if maybe it was worth it to give someone a home and to pay off the mortgage long enough that the house would give us something back (maybe property prices would rise - there had been a slump in our local area for a while). We were aware of the rental crisis and were adamant that we did not want to charge so much rent that it was unreasonable.
We had tenants that stayed for a year. Turned out we knew them as friends of friends and I recalled the husband as having been in my grade 3 class. He went to the same high school as my brother but we never knew each other closely. It's just where we live there are only ever a couple of degrees of separation and they were chosen by the real estate company.
These tenants wanted the perks of being home owners without any of the responsibility of owning a house. I don't know everything about them but I am fairly confident that they could actually own if they wanted to. He had a stable mining job and they were able to afford rent that cost more than what we'd paid for the original mortgage. But they treated the house like crap and got away with it because they were buddies with the property manager. He (the tenant) had a complex that my therapist calls "tom cat" syndrome. He wanted to make it his own but at our expense. He had laid out all these conditions when they moved in - wanting to install this and that and was very quick to point out the slightest imperfections (let me point out that we had made sure the house was really nice and in good condition when we moved out - we slaved away at it - keep in mind it was fit for us to live in for many years).
Meanwhile, I was trying to make a home during the pandemic in our new place and couldn't afford to. I didn't want to recreate my husband's childhood for our kids (putting investment properties above my kids' experiences in life) but we had overextended, despite the maths working, and the rent was not covering all the extra expenses - water service bills, rates, real estate fees, repairing or replacing of things that inexplicably give up after years of being reliable (like a jinx because you moved out). We didn't get any actual rent in our bank account for months - the costs to set up a rental property through an agency are substantial. It was rough. It wasn't the lifestyle we wanted. I couldn't afford to host anyone at our lovely new place. I couldn't afford many clothes (and no I'm not talking designer or brand names) or basic restorative self care (again I know my privilege and it's something that in the ideal world everyone deserves - especially burnt out stay and home parents). I couldn't do small luxuries at all. Couldn't buy tickets to events. Couldn't meet friends for lunch. Couldn't afford activities for the kids. Again, not a sob story. Just a reminder that we are human too.
I felt like we'd made a mistake. I had emotional baggage with that house and I felt like now it was affecting my new chapter of life, which was the opposite of what we were trying to achieve. But despite our rights as landlords (as opposed to what's right), we didn't turf our tenants out early so we could sell when the season was right etc. We stuck it out. Because I didn't want to make them homeless or muck their family around. I knew how hard it is to move houses. I knew they had 4 children (too many for the home to be honest). I also admittedly didn't want his circle of family and friends in this small world we live in to think poorly of us.
We waited the entire year's lease that they'd signed before selling. They would need to look for another place to live while the house was on the market and the real estate company helped set up a month to month arrangement with the rent until they found somewhere or we sold.
Like I said, it's been a pandemic. Circumstances change. A lot of landlords are like us - we had the best of intentions. Everyone took hits in some way or other in their lives. Obviously some worse than others. My husband and I separated! We had always planned to sell the house but now it took on extra meaning because that would become a very important nest egg for me - a person who had been a SAHM for a decade and made a lot of sacrifices.
During the time the house was on the market, the tenants deliberately left crap around. They refused to allow home open times that were helpful in selling. The selling agent had to hide dirty underwear that had been left around and wash dishes before potential buyers turned up. They were basically sabotaging us. Acting annoyed and entitled about having to move. I cannot stress enough that this was NOT THEIR HOUSE. It's not that we didn't have empathy. But it's the reality of the situation. We couldn't sell until they were out of the house months later. I am sure they had anxiety about finding somewhere new in this market and that's why we were patient. But the arrogance of the guy (the tenant) was astounding. All of their rental inspections were of a messy house (the real estate did not have our backs - they should be an unbiased middle person and we were the ones paying them to manage the property - not the tenants). There was a plumbing issue (with a literal $6 fix) that they had allowed to get out of hand without telling us (they had nothing to lose as it would be our responsibility to fix it - they probably just didn't want us to see how they lived or thought it was an F U to us for selling). They were being jerks.
They didn't totally trash the place or anything hideous. But a lot of tenants are a bit careless or go rogue with weird choices. That adds to expenses a landlord has to cover (sure there's a bond but some things just aren't covered). Expenses you don't have to wear if you're a tenant.
The landlords are not always bad guys. We could have sold the house quicker if we'd kicked them out and made them homeless (as was our right) on a date of our choosing (their lease was up). As a result we fell behind financially during that time.
It turns out the new buyer wants to use it as an investment property. They are from a state where the cost of living and property prices are astronomical. They obviously want to get in on the lower prices here. After learning some things about the realtors that have facilitated the sale from interstate, I have no doubt they are trying to exploit the market here (and therefore tenants). They will charge much more for rent. They already helped investors buy the house next door to it from interstate and I almost fainted when I saw what they were advertising for rent compared to us. It seemed wrong to be honest and I don't agree with this. BUT...in saying that, it was probably calculated in a cold business like way to cover expenses. And a majority of landlords just want to cover expenses if there's still a mortgage. And we had to sell. It's not our business who we sell to and I feel bad but I can't afford to take a stand for moral reasons. Maybe we should be penalising these people instead.
We need to look at what's wrong with the system. The private rental industry is not going to solve the bigger problems with housing affordability. Because a lot of us who own investment properties are just trying to make ends meet and hopefully (bare minimum) pay off a mortgage. We are renting to people who could have been our friends - our peers. We care. We are all suffering with inflation and bad decisions or circumstances that have had nothing to do with us. Not all of us are Liberal party (the conservative party despite the misleading name) profiteering politicians or big time CEOs. Or rich people's kids who never worked for their wealth.
Not all of us are boomers. Some of us were very young adults who worked hard from very young to secure property for our futures when we probably should or could have been travelling or doing other things. To do that means ticking all of the banks' boxes to be eligible for a loan. That takes sacrifice. And again there is privilege involved. I am not at all suggesting that I think anyone/everyone can do it. This world is far from fair.
I guess my point of it all is that not every landlord has bad/selfish/heartless intentions and I am sick of us being shat on in social media rants like we're all one and the same. Some of us are really trying to help and to just get by ourselves. We aren't all trying to trample on others to get a leg up. We aren't all millionaires out of touch with the common person. Some of us are a version of that common person who for some reason or another has an opportunity to invest. To add another house to a struggling market.
It is illogical to claim all landlords are evil if they are the ones providing you with a house to live in. If there were no landlords (ie no more evil people with investment properties which apparently is all of us) then where the fuck would you live? That's the bigger question. Maybe that's the point. Maybe we aren't the answer and more has to be done to provide housing that is affordable across the board. If we had continued to own the house and keep renting it out we would have been crippled. Surely that's not fair either. With the cost of living rising (while our wages do not), we would have been forced to sell anyway. So it was really unfair of our tenants to be jerks. And you could say, "oh but your choices led to you not making the wisest investment" but I could say to a lot of renters (but definitely not all) that their life choices trapped them in being slaves to the rental market. I guarantee our tenants could have afforded to buy the house from us and never move again. But for whatever reason they had made life choices that stopped them from doing so (keep in mind I know the family of the husband and some background knowledge - he had all the capabilities and opportunities but had evidently made other choices in life).
Again I don't want my words twisted. I'm saying that for every shitty rich and unethical landlord out there, there are so many more who genuinely mean well for everyone involved. And for every entitled, jerk faced tenant there are many more forced into the market through circumstances that are definitely not a choice.
Let's stop making generalisations and actually try to solve problems we are capable of solving. If nothing is stopping you from buying, then buy instead of whining about being a slave to 'the man' (because what you are making in this specific situation is a CHOICE). Where we live, chances are your mortgage would cost far less than your rent. If you are an investor who can afford it, freeze your rent. The problem is far from solved but we have to take personal responsibility before being jerks and pitting people against each other. We had to sell and while we showed compassion to our tenants they showed none to us because they bought into the stereotypes and that wasn't fair either. I don't ever want to be a landlord again. I just want to focus on enriching my own life from now on. And maybe that's the problem. Maybe the not evil landlords are getting out of the market because our hearts and wallets can't take it. I feel forced to make a selfish choice because I can't be a villain, according to everyone, anymore.
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icryyoumercy · 3 years
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other luxuries i keep forgetting my insurance pays for: if the regular hospital food options all have cheese baked over them, i can just have pasta and tomato sauce instead
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kiridarling · 3 years
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𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒
izuku midoriya | ft. ceo!au + praise + exhibitionism + breaking and entering + body worship + f!reader + more! minors dni.
— 3.8k words
“When I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to."
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You’ve always hated Chopin.
“L’œuf mimosa, Madame?”
After turning down the poor waiter whose arms quiver under the weight of the plates, you turn back to your red wine and people-watching. The ballroom is full of golds and reds, the amber lighting illuminating the intricately decorated walls. And you sit in the middle of it all—you and your 147 billion net-worth, with a ball gown that’s caught at least half the aristocratic asshole’s attention, not that they were very loyal to their wives in the first place.
You're not here for their attention, though. You’re strictly here for business—and frankly, you want to do nothing more than sock these fat business moguls in their chubby faces until their teeth fall out and demand they pay their taxes. But, seeing as you’re the only woman here who isn’t a gold-digging wife, you bite your tongue.
You’ve always dreaded black tie events, but as you’ve said, duty calls.
A whine filters through the speakers, followed by two amplified taps and a clear of a throat. The murmur down as the auction's owner takes the center of the stage, stilling in front of the next piece of art—hidden behind a black veil—before adjusting the tie to his business suit.
“I’m glad that you all could be with us tonight. I have both a great privilege and honor to host this event,” he announces, bulbous head already growing damp under the heat of the stage lights. “Now that we're almost at the end, I'm sure you won't be disappointed. Saving the best for last, as one does."
He includes a casual wave to his comment and the audience erupts in a flurry of chuckles, though not for long. As he walks over to the piece, hand raised and ready to reveal, silence seizes the room by the neck.
"Well. Shall we?”
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The audience balances on the edges of their seats, with millions of wide eyes and thrumming chests in anticipation. A smooth flick of a hand and the black sheet is removed, and there sits the only piece you’ve had your eyes on all night. She’s even more beautiful up close.
“El Bacio, The Kiss. Francesco Hayez, 1859.”
The grip around your glass tightens. The brilliant blue from the woman’s dress in the oil painting may as well burn your eyes, and the surrounding murmurs peak with your interest. You know it's yours without question, though—you can outbid almost anyone in this room. Anyone that matters, anyway.
“This is the original version, originally commissioned by Count Alfonso Maria Visconti of Saliceto. It was donated to the Pinacoteca di Brera in 1886 and went missing in 1937. Starting at ten million.”
You try not to scowl. The fucker jacked up the price by two million.
“Twelve million,” the man says as he recognizes whoever lifted a hand. You sit tight, your hands throbbing in your lap for the right moment as you survey the room for anyone who could possibly pose a threat. You find none.
The bidding continues. The price elevates from twelve million to fifteen to thirty to fifty. You raise a hand, finally, fingers splayed wide and confident to signify a five.
“Fifty-five million.”
The room falls silent; you try not to smile. You know for a fact no one wants this painting more than you do, and you’re determined to have it.
“No one else?”
His eyes scan the room but no one makes a motion. It’s yours.
Until there’s movement from your peripheral.
“Sixty million!”
You eye whoever had the audacity to raise their hand, only to be met with a rather peculiar sight—a man, roughly your age, with slicked-back green hair and a hand twice the size of yours, lifted lazily in the air.
With a huff, you find yourself thrusting another five into the air.
“Sixty-five millio—Seventy million!”
You know that green-haired (probably) trust fund baby has got to be doing this for fun because the poorly hidden smirk hidden behind the hand he rests his chin on is more than obvious.
You dislike him already, immediately categorizing him with the rest—another sleazeball.
“Seventy-five million!”
“Eighty million!”
“One hundred million!”
In your defense, you were getting frustrated.
Either way, the green-haired stranger backs off with a nonchalant shrug, and it makes you burn this discontent. The business mogul-turned-auctioneer steps off the stage for another twenty-minute intermission and folks turn to one another for conversation. You sigh, simply satisfied that you’ve gotten what you came for.
You find yourself faintly puzzled by the boy with the green hair, and you're sure it's solely due to his age. Frankly, you've been the only one under thirty in the Top 100 Richest People since you achieved such a feat, and the fact that you haven't heard of him is...puzzling. But it doesn't matter. Clearly, he’s just another fellow looking to put another pretty thing in his foyer—you doubt he knows a thing about art, and definitely not an appreciation for it. You find solace in the fact that it's the new addition to your precious art collection instead, and will be owned and taken care of by someone who actually enjoys it.
“Good evening.”
You jump. Wrapped up in all of your inner turmoil (complemented by inner bragging, naturally) you fail to notice the greenette cross the expanse of the ballroom and make himself comfortable in the open seat next to you, despite your lack of approval.
“Hello,” you say, unsure of why he's here. He offers a hand to shake, Rolex glinting under the golden lighting.
“Izuku Midoriya,” he introduces, and you suppose shaking his hand won’t hurt.
“Your name?” He snorts, raising a cocky eyebrow. You scowl.
“Does it matter?”
“Not particularly.” Izuku rests his forearms on the table as his evergreen eyes rake your figure up and down. “But if you prefer to remain nameless, be my guest.”
“[Y/N].”
“Hmm?”
“My name,” you clarify. “It’s [Y/N].”
You’re not exactly sure what possessed you to tell him your name so easily. Maybe the fact that most already know who you are, and the fact that this man—this stranger—doesn’t know who you are, irks you a bit.
Okay. It irks you a lot.
“Well, Miss [Y/N],” Izuku tilts his head sideways. “I think that’s a very pretty name.”
Your body betrays you with a light gasp. Stupid thing.
“Well. I’m bored,” Izuku announces childishly, relaxing against the chair. “Lets go somewhere.”
You roll your eyes at his asserted dominance—in no way does he expect you to go with him, does he? You raise an eyebrow.
“No.”
Izuku clicks his tongue as if it were a buzzer, and more importantly, as if you were wrong. “Why?”
That has you scoffing. “I don’t know you.”
Izuku’s eyes flash with a challenge and it’s gone just as quickly. He leans forwards, crowding your personal space yet again.
“I told you my name, no?”
“You did,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and straightening your back. You feel too small. “But I know nothing about you.“
“Well,” Izuku places an inquisitive finger on his lips, and it’s almost mocking, the way he takes a moment to think about it. “My name is Izuku Midoriya. I like...katsudon and hero movies. I’m here because I have too much time and money on my hands, and I’m, most importantly, bored.”
Your eyes narrow. “What do you do for a living?”
Izuku’s lip curls, and it’s downright sinister, “I'll tell you if you come with me."
You roll your eyes, and he takes both your hands in his. You don’t pull away, but you don’t reciprocate it either.
“Where?”
Izuku shrugs, “Wherever the wind takes us.”
Your stomach growls loudly, interrupting your fairly intimate conversation and dying your cheeks pink. Izuku raises an eyebrow.
“I heard they’re feeding us escargo for dinner.”
“Ugh,” you sigh, shoulder sagging. “Looks like I’m not eating, then.”
But there’s a glint in his eyes, and you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t one in your own. There's an ebb in the discourse, a beat, before Izuku's nodding towards the exit.
“Fast food?”
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Wendy’s hits different during a Parisian midnight.
“—and so I had to be like: No Kacchan, you can’t hotwire his car to blow just because your food was, and I quote, lukewarm.”
You snicker behind a fist, digging your fancy heels into the grimy cement sidewalk, Wendy’s frostee in hand. Izuku hasn’t let go of your hand since you two left the fast-food joint, and for some reason, you haven’t pulled away.
"Violence seems to be a reoccurring theme with your friend," you say, laughing when Izuku nods in agreement, eyes stuck on the full moon hanging high in the air.
"You remind me of him, actually."
You raise an eyebrow, unable to see the correlation at all, "Because I'm a loud and angry and I like to blow things up."
"Or, because you're strong—independent. The type of woman to make men turn tail and run, you know?" Izuku turns to you with a lopsided grin.
You hum, averting your eyes to the moon. It's a stupid question, one that's all too loaded yet empty at the same time, and you hate that you hesitate to ask it.
"Why haven't you ran, then?"
"Easy." Izuku lets a smooth shrug roll off his shoulders, "I like strong women."
He continues to pull you to an undisclosed destination, the two of you stumbling through the heart of Paris with his suit jacket around your goosebump-ridden shoulders. People stare, but for the first time in forever, you find that you don't care much.
Finally, you two reach Izuku's "big reveal." You gaze at the magnificently lit french building in confusion, the golden under lights contrasting both of your beings against the navy blue sky.
"The Louvre?"
"Mhm," Izuku says, and he looks more than giddy. "Have you been?"
"Once," your voice is weary and you're sure he senses it, his grip tightening around your own. "For a fundraiser...but it's midnight Izuku, ho—"
But he's already tugging you to the right, dipping between columns and arches until you reach the back of the building. Izuku turns to you and whispers:
"Watch this."
It's hard to tell what he did exactly, especially with no light—it's just a bunch of jingles and ticks. Though, the moment you can't escape the sense that this is beyond sketchy, a lock clicks, and a door whines open.
"Hurry. And take your heels off," Izuku whispers, tilting his head towards the entrance. You hear the crunch of a leaf and see the beginning of a white flashlight curl around the building and fuck, this place has to be crawling with security guards, doesn't it?
"Don't tell me what to do," you grumble...as you take off your shoes. (Because you were going to do it anyway.) You enter and he closes the door behind the two of you, submerging you both in complete darkness.
"Security's only on the outside," Izuku grins. "They don't expect us to get inside, so as long as we're quiet, it should be fine."
"Until we have to get back out again," you say, huffing. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline because frankly, you've never been one for adventures, and breaking into a historical french museum is miles out of your comfort zone. "Seriously, did you think this through at all? What happens when we get caught?"
Izuku sighs, turning to you with a pout before grabbing your free hand again. "Women worry too much. C'mon—I wanna explore."
"You—let go, you misogynistic assho—"
You're cut off by a finger to your lips. Izuku bends down so he’s looking at you straight on, eyes dark as he sternly whispers, "Do you want us to get caught?"
It's not the prospect of getting caught that makes you falter, though—it's the way his stare pins you in place, voice swollen with that air of dominance you claim to hate. You have to tighten your grip on your heels to ensure they don't hit the ground.
"Now," Izuku‘s strangely childish manner returns, tugging your hand once your panicked whisper-yelling ceases, "Shall we?"
You roll your eyes, but your bare feet patter against the cold Louvre tile anyway. And you've got to say, the museum is much nicer when it isn't crawling with people.
"Mona Lisa's forehead is bigger than I thought," Izuku observes with a finger on his lip. He's on the wrong side of the railing, his nose close to kissing the glass protecting the piece. You snort, dropping your head to pinch the bridge. He turns to give you a weird look.
"What?"
"Nothing, just," you shake your head, the cool wood of the railing digging into your forearms. "Did you actually want that painting?"
Izuku frowns. "Which one?"
"El Bacio."
"Mm," the greenette hums as he thinks, blinking to the corner of the room."I suppose. You seemed like you wanted it more, though."
You roll your eyes, "So you cap at eighty million?"
Izuku shrugs, hopping the railing. Seems like he's finally done insulting poor Lisa, "I capped when you started to sweat."
You huff, but stomping instead of walking isn't so intimidating when you're barefoot. "I wasn't sweating."
You see a hidden smirk on Izuku's face once you catch up to him, and it's frustrating and insulting, to say the least. Both of you proceed down a hall of statues. "You're much easier to read than you think, Miss [Y/N]."
"And you're not as perceptive as you think, Mister Midoriya."
Izuku chuckles at that, shaking his head. "Well played, Miss [Y/N]. Well played."
You're not sure why your chest swells, but it does, and it takes both you and your limited lung capacity off guard. But you don't have much time to sort it out—Izuku's grabbing your hand again, and redirecting your attention to the last statue in the hall. You recognize it and frown.
“Cupid and Psyche?”
The silver moonlight pours in through the window, spilling down Cupid’s tipped wings and the softest points of the Psyche’s curves. Izuku hums in confirmation, hands sliding to encompass your hips as his chin hooks on your shoulder.
"Well done, Miss [Y/N]."
His voice deepens—it's coarse and heady, and gets your blood rushing in a way breaking and entering never could have.
"Amore e Psiche, Psyche Revived by Cupid's Kiss. Antonio Canova, 1793."
You fail to understand why this statue stood out to him compared to all the others, but the circles Izuku’s thumb presses into your hips signifies that you’ll find out soon.
"Cupid represents desire, and Psyche, the human soul," Izuku says, running his hands up your sides. "Together, they make the perfect union."
Dipping his nose into your neck, Izuku inhales, and the hands around your waist tighten, if the smallest bit. "Psyche was the prettiest woman in the world; so pretty she rivaled Venus' beauty with her own. It didn't matter if it broke rules—Cupid knew he had to have her."
The gentle nudge of a neck evolves into a set of butterfly kisses, tracing the column of your neck until his mouth reaches your ear. A hand slides to gently cup your breast, and the other to your thigh.
"Miss [Y/N], when I saw you this evening, in that ballgown, I knew I just had to have you. But I can't be a gentleman for much longer, as much as I'd like to." Izuku groans into your neck, hips gently grinding forwards. "So, it's up to you what we do next—I could drop you off at your home to probably never see you again, or...”
Izuku shifts, and you can feel his hardening cock against your back. “I can bend you over right here. Your choice.”
You hesitate, determined to think this through—but Izuku's wandering hands and rutting hips prove to be too much of a distraction.
"Fine," is all you say, before whirling around, grabbing the greenette by his dress shirt, and slamming your lips onto his.
Izuku kisses back with a grin—like he knew you were going to say yes—and places his hands around your waist yet again, backing you up against the marble statue.
"Sit on the platform," he breathes into your mouth. You frown.
"Like, the platform to the statue? Caus—"
"Yes on the statue, now sit," Izuku demands, but he doesn't give you much room to protest, forcing you onto the marble platform. Hiking your dress to your waist, Izuku's calloused palms slide up your inner thighs, spreading them apart to make room for himself in between. He pauses.
"No panties?"
You flush red—from the exposure or the comment, you aren't sure—but you huff in defiance nevertheless, determined to stand your ground and keep some of your dignity. (Though you're positive Izuku can feel you shaking already.)
"I'm wearing a dress," you defend weakly.
Izuku hums behind a bitten lip, lying a heavy thumb on your clit. It's enough pressure to make your thighs tense but not much else, until it flicks downwards.
"I wanna taste you," Izuku growls with dilated pupils once he finally tears his gaze from your exposed body. "Can I?"
Heat surges through your veins, and you let him pry your thighs apart as you respond with an unsteady, "Yeah—yeah, that's fine."
Izuku's chest rumbles with a growl as he closes in on your pussy, hands gripping underneath your thighs. You whimper when he trails butterfly kisses down your inner legs, the grip you have around the skirt of your dress tightening.
"So pretty," Izuku groans, chuckling when you shiver as he flattens his tongue against your slit, "My Goddess."
With that he dives in, almost sending you toppling with the force. The moonlight dyes his green locks a navy blue, and you can't resist seizing them into a fist when he pushes a finger in.
"Feel good, Gorgeous?" Izuku says with a knowing smirk on his sinfully glossed lips. Another digit enters and it has your toes curling as you nod. “Shit, you’re tight.”
Izuku spits on your pussy and it’s downright dirty, before looks at you under forest green eyelashes, the other hand finally letting go of your thigh in favor for pulling at the top of your dress.
“Izuku, wha—“
“I wanna see your tits,” he huffs. You’d laugh at his enthusiasm if you weren’t so aroused, and you find your hands joining in the flurry. The moment they’re free, Izuku’s mouth latches onto your breast in an instant.
“F-Fuck, ‘Zuku—“
“You sound so good when you moan my name, sweetheart,” Izuku groans, and you jolt as he tweaks a bud.
“Say it again.”
He pinches your nipple and clit at the same time, and it has your legs kicking as you squeal his name again.
The Izuku growls and it's nothing but feral, and another yelp of his name has him pulling you to your feet to the point where your noses almost touch. Aggravated from being so close before the greenette ripped his fingers away has you scowling.
"Wha—"
"Can I fuck you?" His breath ghosts your lips. You hide your shock by a roll of your eyes.
"Do you always ask stupid questions?"
Izuku hums in contemplation before grabbing you harshly by the jaw, to the point where your cheeks squish into your eyes and your lips pucker. "Say it, Bunny."
"I just sa—"
"Say 'I want you to fuck me, Izuku,'" he says with a cruel snarl. "’Hard.’"
Your eyes dart from his heavy gaze to the statue, and you can't help but feel more fragile than glass. "I litera—"
"Say it, brat."
"I—" you try but nothing comes out, and you blame that darkened stare of his, "I w-want you to fuck me. Izuku."
Izuku inhales sharply, the fingers cradling your face tightening before he speaks again.
"Good girl."
He spins you so your hands lay on the statue's base, yanking your hips back and flipping your dress so your bare ass is exposed to the cool air.
Izuku's palms caress your behind, kneading both globes before he pulls you against his bare cock. (When he took off his pants is beyond you.) He slaps his cock against your clit until you huff in frustration, turning around to shoot him an angry glare.
"Today, Izuku."
The greenette blinks out of his absorbed gaze on your behind in favor of glowering you down. You waver under his glare despite your best efforts.
His cock kisses your entrance and then all of it is in you at once, and his size is enough to make your inner thighs ache from the stretch. You bite your lip in an attempt to muffle a moan, but that crashes and burns fairly quickly.
"O-Oh shi—"
"You said today, didn't you?" Izuku rasps, before pulling out and stuffing you full at a quick and steady pace. Your hands scramble for proper purchase against the statue—without breaking it, for gods sake—but the harder he fucks you into it, the harder it is to stay upright. "Quiet, baby. We're not supposed to be here, remember?"
You nod frantically, teeth digging into your bottom lip. The thought of getting caught, you, of all people, while being railed against a marble statue—
Izuku moans in your ear, a hand moving between your thighs to rub at your clit. "Oh, you tightened when I said that—you like the idea of getting caught, Bunny?"
You respond with a choked moan, thighs quivering with an impending orgasm. Izuku groans as you tighten around him again, but they quickly turn into shushes.
"Bu—"
"I-I know," your voice cracks and it's absolutely pathetic. "But I can't—"
Izuku's hand wraps around your mouth to the point where his fingertips just barely brush your ears. You whine, eyes fluttering as the new grip adjusts the angle ever so slightly, and pushes him so much deeper.
"You're gonna kill me," Izuku says, wheezing out a laugh. "I—fuck Bunny, I'm close."
You whimper behind his hand and nod as if to say me too, and you're sure Izuku understands from the way he groans before he speeds up in all aspects. "Good. G-Good—cum for me baby, I know you can—"
Your toes curl into the marble floor as the coil in your gut snaps, knocking the wind out of you and sending you thrashing in Izuku's arms. You hear the greenette curse and shudder behind you, stuttering hips slowing to an eventual stop. Both of you stand there for a moment, comfortable interrupting the silence with nothing but your heaving breaths.
"You okay?"
You chuckle. It's dry and scratchy, and your lip throbs from biting it so hard, but it isn’t...aggravating, per-se. "You sound worse than me."
Izuku laughs at that, though it waters down as he pulls out with a hiss. "I don't think worse is the correct adjective here, Miss [Y/N].”
You snort. Back to “Miss [Y/N]” it is, then.
Your ears catch the distinct wail of ever-increasing sirens, but you don't think much of it until the side of Izuku's face starts flashing blue and red. Both you and the greenette falter, sharing a look.
"Police! Hands in the air!"
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i wrote this while watching a hysterectomy in physio aah (also yes, the french police speak in english leave me alone skjdhfgk) — sun
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latina4rmbx · 2 years
Text
When I Catch Myself Smiling
First off, I want to laugh at the fact that in this space, that was blank a moment ago there's a watermark that states: "Go ahead, put anything." (I had to double check). It's like the blank space is daring me.
Lately, I catch myself smiling more. It doesn't necessarily have to deal with any one individual. It's me. I'm happier. I don't know what caused this shift in my mind. I honestly don't care to know, I know I am grateful for it.
The world can be a dark and scary place, I KNOW, especially in this day and age. I just know that I am not fearful of what's the come. I am open & ready to take life by the balls and squeeze (sounds painful, I KNOW - healing is painful).
Even the things that used to make me cry or would upset me, no longer do so. The memories now make me smile. TV Shows have some sort of deeper meaning and I'm paying attention. I'm listening.
Lately, I've been reading quotes in regards to the Universe. Everyone knows Murphy's Law (anything that can go wrong will go wrong) and everyone knows the Law of Attraction (you attract what you are or better said - the belief that positive or negative thoughts bring positive or negative experiences into a person's life). These are UNIVERSAL laws. I'm sure there is something in the Bible that reads the same: an eye for an eye - for example.
Here's the thing family (oh, you didn't know? You're my family now - Welcome!) just like ANYTHING in life, in order to get it, you have to work for it. Nothing is going to fall in your lap, you have to go out a get it!
CAVEAT: This was a hard lesson for me to learn as a grew older. I have had the "luck" of getting what I want. My parents spoiled me. My grandmother spoiled me. My family AND friends, still to this day, spoil me, but guess what familia...The Universe also spoils me! (EEK how exciting)
Going out and working for what I want has never been on my radar. Like I said I have had a fairly privileged life (privileged in the sense that I got what I want - ALL THE TIME) and having everything handed to me or easily accessible made me lazy. I'm not afraid to admit that people. I am human. I have made mistakes. What it also did was create this sense of entitlement that I never earned, even if I never voiced it, trust me the thought WAS there.
I won't say WHEN I figured out I have to do things on my own. I just know that when I decided it was my time to grow up and take my life by the reigns, everything changed. My outlook on things changed because I was seeing them from a new lense. A lense of hard work DOES pay off.
I have a quote in my phone that reads: "The Universe falls in love with a stubborn heart."
Think about that for a moment. No worries, I'll give you all the time you need.
Now, depending on your mood familia, you may read this in a myriad of ways. I will be simplistic. The universe is going to love you if you work for the thing you want, even when everything and everyone is telling you not to. Easy, yeah?
What are the things people are stubborn about? Well, here's the most divisive thing...Their views. It's divisive because not everyone shares the same views. Not about the three major things we've been warned not to discuss: Money, Religion, Politics. WARS have been fought and lost because of these three subjects (I know the term is fought & won but lets be honest, there is always a loser in war).
What else can people be stubborn about? Well darlings...LOVE! People are very stubborn about love when being stubborn it's sort of the opposite OF love. Love is supposed to be liberating and freeing and openness. All of these words are the opposite of being stubborn.
SIDEBAR: Whenever I speak of love, I don't just speak of romantic love. I speak of ALL different types of love, unless I specify...and I will specify.
What else can we be stubborn about? Ethics. This is an amazing word. Ethics. It's greek or something.
It's time for me to look it up or it's going to haunt me for about an hour.
Here's what I got for you? Are you ready?
The website www.law.cornell.edu states "the word 'ethics' is derived from the GREEK (I was right - dancing in my seat) word ethos - character - and from the LATIN word mores - customs. Together, they combine to define how individuals choose to interact with one another."
I will say, I just wanted to know where the word came from but now I'm curious as to the definition
The Oxford Dictionary defines Ethics as "the moral principles that govern a person's behavior or the conducting of an activity." Don't worry guys, we have EXAMPLES.
www.glassdoor.com gives cute and fairly accurate examples of ethics:
Honesty - To be free of deceit and untruthfulness; sincere
Loyalty - Giving or showing firm and constant support or allegiance to a person or institution
Integrity - The quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness
Respect - A feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities or achievements
Selflessness - Concern more with the needs and wishes of others than with one's own
Responsibility - The state or fact of having a duty to deal with something or of having control over someone.
After reading these examples of ethics, you may think how do we have a differing of opinion? Alas, we may have come to the whole shabang. How DO we have a difference of opinion when everyone wants all of the items listed above? Well familia, this is where perception comes in.
I tend to write obsessively about perception, only as a reminder that what I tend to write is from my experiences that have shaped my perception. You can agree to disagree. I respect (see I'm using one of the words) you enough to hear out your opinion and if I don't agree, I'm not going to crucify you for it. I mean, unless I don't like you, then your opinion is trash (TRUE STORY)
See, our personal experiences shape our perception which in turn shapes our reality (See? I'm returning to the Universe).
I was asked recently, if I had the chance to take the blue pill (live life as I have been living) or the red pill (have my third eye opened up and see life for all of it's parts) which I would choose? I didn't even hesitate and said "The Blue Pill!" I know my response shocked and annoyed the person who asked so they say: Really? You would rather live your life the way you've been living it?
Please understand, I know this person well enough to know I PISSED them off. I said, YUP! Here's the rest of my response: Ignorance is bliss. The more I know, the sadder and more depressed I become. The world IS a scary place and there are monsters lurking around every corner. That's not how i want to live my life. Also, I don't have a bad life. I love the life I have and if I can conserve it in any capacity, I would.
Let me take a second to explain this to you family. I am fully aware of what I just wrote above. I am aware that there ARE monsters lurking around every corner and every day I leave my home AND return is a day I WON! I understand that not everyone has your best interest at heart. I realize that sometimes love isn't what's going to get you through the day. I am self aware enough to understand that I have ALREADY taken the red pill. I'm not naive.
However, I look at my kids and my grand childern and see how innocent and easily trusting they are because they DO NOT KNOW that there are monsters in the real world, not just on TV. The absolute purity of love that radiates from my grandson when he looks at me. The HONOR of my sons ONLY wonder when it comes to me is: What's for dinner? Who wouldn't want to go back to THAT? This to me is taking the blue pill. Having blinders on and not seeing the world for the cold, ugly place it CAN be.
But the UNIVERSE falls in love with a STUBBORN heart. Which means, despite the ugly, I see beauty! Despite the sad, I laugh and despite the loss, I smile.
So yes family, I find myself smiling a little more than usual lately. Like I said, it's not because of a particular person or thing that has happened, but a culmination of people and things that have happened. ALL OF IT! ALL OF YOU! So thank you for giving me a reason to smile.
Well family, let me get back to the job that pays me. My data has run and these graphs aren't going to chart themselves.
XOXO
Thanks for reading.
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