#good money especially in the states

[dailycupofcreativitea]

This is a shameless pitch for my field of work but if you like biology and you like coding...consider bioinformatics as a career  👀  Especially if you live in the US, as it's well-known for its bionformatics scene.

#musings #bioinformatics #stem #computer science #python #biology #i was just thinking about how not a lot of people know that a career like bioinformatics exists #hence my little post #most people i tell my job too just look at me confused like they didnt realize you could mix these fields #and a lot of people studying biology forget about how important it is to have a quantitative skill like math or computer science or physics #simply because the programs dont teach those skills #to do any sort of custom data analysis its important to have quantitative skills #and if you're passionate about genomics especially...and dna and the genome...then this may be the field for you! #good money especially in the states #of course a graduate degree is needed #masters minimum phd preferred #i have a masters

[age-of-moonknight]

“Solve for X: Part 2 (of 3),” Strange Academy: Moon Knight (Vol. 1/2023), #1.

Writer: Carlos Hernandez; Penciler and Inker: Julian Shaw; Colorist: Edgar Delgado; Letterer: Clayton Cowles

#Marvel #Marvel comics #Marvel 616 #Strange Academy #Strange Academy: Moon Knight #Moon Knight comics #Moon Knight #Marc Spector #it’s funny I’m well aware of the connection between armed non-state actors (particularly those working especially extra judiciously/ #already well outside the confines of the law like Raul’s group) and looting antiquities #(e.g. RAND did a pretty good article a couple years back on Daesh’s looting in Syria although I know the FBI’s been tracking that activity #since at least 2015 and ah what a tragedy that situation is all around) #but it’s funny I never really thought of Marc as consistently grave robbing hahaha #sure he’d take money in any currency (as well as of any provenance probably no matter how dubious) #but I always interpreted the Sudan incident at Dr. Alraune’s dig site to be Raul’s sudden crime of opportunity #but eh what do I know hahaha

[yardsards]

this cold snap combined with being Obligated to visit my shit parents has me fantasizing about the fact that some day i will move hundreds -perhaps thousands- of miles away from here

#eliot posts #i'm not yet sure where tho #roughly considering georgia bc it's one of the more blue of the southern states #california is always an appealing idea but the cost of living Scares Me #could also move outside of the states #prolly to south america but europe could also be neat like spain or italy or somethin #i've only done surface level research on what it's like to like in various south and central american countries #but a few of em sound good for my wants. especially uruguay i think? #alas most of the pros and cons about emigrating from the u.s. are written by the Type Of Person to blog/vlog abt that type of shit #so their complaints are shit where it's like. that just sounds like how most ppl outside of like los angeles live their life #or shit that is very much like what ot was like growing up in my rural hometown #this one bitch was weeping and moaning abt there being no amazon prime 2 day shipping #anyway tho #i do know that the immigration process is very tough (tho especially in europe) #so that would have to wait til AFTER i've spent a few years here in the states setting up a stable life and saving up money #also definitely need to get better at spanish (or learn portuguese if i wanna go to brazil) bc my spanish SUCKS i talk like a preschooler #this one lady on youtube was boohooing about ''i thought i could just learn spanish through immersion'' LIKE BRUH #you just EXPECTED the locals to accomodate you when you didn't even teach yourself RUDIMENTARY spanish beforehand??? #whadda fuck

[crimsonblackrose]

I’m absolutely fascinated that when I talk to friends, my aunt and uncle (not the ones I live with), my cousins, my aunt’s best friend about my next goal buying my own place everyone nods like this is a sage and smart decision and gives me advice. Meanwhile I visit my older sisters and ask for their advice and I get lectured on what a terrible idea it is. 💀

#mumblings #I'm tired of moving #I'm tired of not putting down roots #I want a place to be mine and to have an asset #my sisters want me to rent and not buy a place which just feels like a waste of money to me #but I don't know I think I'm disappointed that I came to them with all these plans of things I want to do and accomplish #that I thought was logical and every single one of them was shot down as if they were the dumbest decisions ever #and unrealistic #to be fair my sisters and I have not discussed finances #but damn this was disheartening #especially because the reasoning just doesn't feel...right #like I wasn't given a good reason not to just that I shouldn't...so I'm like ???? #it felt like they were trying to prepare me for disapointment but mostly like I was being lectured for no reason? #like you should rent first just to rent? #why? #that was the reason to rent just so I've rented #Like I have rented just not in the states #It's not like I missed out on that experience #ugh I just was hoping for some better advice related to whatever talk my aunt and uncle that I live with are going to have #and I feel like we just argued for no reason and didn't understand one another and it's frustrating #like at least my friends have warned me that interest rates are awful #but that's a logical warning you know #not just rent to have the experience of renting #or like get a car first how is that logical? I don't even know how to drive 😬💀 #I wish they'd just have been straight with me about why they thought it was a bad idea specifically #I feel like I didn't gain any advice just frustration

[iloveyoumorethansoup]

Ok so life update I fly back for break Friday and I’ve got 3 total assignments left 2 of them being finals and I don’t get to come back until the 5th🫠

#I’ll say whatever about this state I hate it. but I really don’t love going home and living with my parents #especially since I’m gonna be at work 99% of the time #which yay money bc I burn through money not working in college but still #oh and my situationship girl? still very much so that. I’m not totally convinced we’re not dating but it’s sure something #we make dinner together like every night. i stay at her apartment on weekends. she brought me flowers #also she wants to visit me over the summer which would be super fun since I live in such a big city and she’s from the middle of nowhere #the only downside to that is my dad would literally like her so much id have to marry her on the spot #it’s so funny bc she’s the complete opposite of me #she works out girl is in the gym all the time she going into being a physical trainer and studies so hard all the time she loves spicy foods #and she listens to country music #I’m like some couch bound gamer who rarely leaves my apartment #literally one time she goes. we would probably not work as a couple we have nothing in common. and I’m like hm. she’s not wrong #and I go wait! i like to bake you like to eat. she’s also really good at flirting and as a chronic flirt that’s very fun #also no apparently I don’t hate kissing I was just dumb about it and didn’t know what I was doing #so yeah! I’m having fun! it’s also really funny bc I know a lot of her friends and immediately upon learning we were a thing they go #oh. so they’re sleeping together. this is the only option for these two. and we weren’t! but it was still really funny #one of her closest friends unfortunately hates me bc I broke up with that one guy and started talking to her #but he’s in love with her. still. and the guy I broke up with is the guy who wants to die so bad #so he blames me bc ‘he can put himself in his shoes’ #like. the guy already wasn’t doing so hot before he and I dated. and I was only there for like a week. bestie is very jealous #idk if any of her other friends blame me. he has just vocally said I’m the problem on several occasions #as if I have not historically been the only one who could talk bestie off a cliff and to stay alive #anyways. I’m sad I don’t get to see her over break but god knows I’ll be getting late night phone calls #soup talks

[britneyshakespeare]

in a very strange way which confounds all logic and human emotion, i do enjoy substitute teaching

#it makes fucking shit money though #oh especially if youre subbing for a para. fuck #i make less than minimum wage in my neighboring state for subbing #but i enjoy the feeling of purposefulness. basically every school in america has a substitute teacher shortage #and im very appreciated on like. a human level. #and i kinda like the variety of it. it's hard learning new kids' names every day though #but at the same time you get to see so many corners and classes in one school district #i went to the high school for the first time today. i had only tried to do that a couple times last year #but ended up having panic attacks and having to cancel them last minute #plus my ongoing physical illness which was getting REALLY REALLY FUCKING BAD in late spring #i decided not to really push it until the next year #but today was pretty fine. good even! #despite that the clock-in time was 7:00. illegal #im gonna do the elementary school tomorrow though. good for me #the elementary school is my comfort zone #tales from diana #mainly cuz ive worked other jobs at that elementary school than subbing so i know more of the kids #but now those kids are starting to move onto the bigger grades ;____; omg... #two years from now i might run into one of my former elem. kids at the high school. not ok w that possibility #they just get older and older don't they. so do i.

[hyperlexichypatia]

As I keep shouting into the void, pathologizers love shifting discussion about material conditions into discussion about emotional states.

I rant approximately once a week about how the brain maturity myth transmuted “Young adults are too poor to move out of their parents’ homes or have children of their own” into “Young adults are too emotionally and neurologically immature to move out of their parents’ homes or have children of their own.”

I’ve also talked about the misuse of “enabling” and “trauma” and “dopamine” .

And this is a pattern – people coin terms and concepts to describe material problems, and pathologization culture shifts them to be about problems in the brain or psyche of the person experiencing them. Now we’re talking about neurochemicals, frontal lobes, and self-esteem instead of talking about wages, wealth distribution, and civil rights. Now we can say that poor, oppressed, and exploited people are suffering from a neurological/emotional defect that makes them not know what’s best for themselves, so they don’t need or deserve rights or money.

Here are some terms that have been so horribly misused by mental health culture that we’ve almost entirely forgotten that they were originally materialist critiques.

Codependency What it originally referred to: A non-addicted person being overly “helpful” to an addicted partner or relative, often out of financial desperation. For example: Making sure your alcoholic husband gets to work in the morning (even though he’s an adult who should be responsible for himself) because if he loses his job, you’ll lose your home. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/07/08/opinion/codependency-addiction-recovery.html What it’s been distorted into: Being “clingy,” being “too emotionally needy,” wanting things like affection and quality time from a partner. A way of pathologizing people, especially young women, for wanting things like love and commitment in a romantic relationship.

Compulsory Heterosexuality What it originally referred to: In the 1980 in essay "Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence," https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/493756 Adrienne Rich described compulsory heterosexuality as a set of social conditions that coerce women into heterosexual relationships and prioritize those relationships over relationships between women (both romantic and platonic). She also defines “lesbian” much more broadly than current discourse does, encompassing a wide variety of romantic and platonic relationships between women. While she does suggest that women who identify as heterosexual might be doing so out of unquestioned social norms, this is not the primary point she’s making. What it’s been distorted into: The patronizing, biphobic idea that lesbians somehow falsely believe themselves to be attracted to men. Part of the overall “Women don’t really know what they want or what’s good for them” theme of contemporary discourse.

Emotional Labor What it originally referred to: The implicit or explicit requirement that workers (especially women workers, especially workers in female-dominated “pink collar” jobs, especially tipped workers) perform emotional intimacy with customers, coworkers, and bosses above and beyond the actual job being done. Having to smile, be “friendly,” flirt, give the impression of genuine caring, politely accept harassment, etc. https://weld.la.psu.edu/what-is-emotional-labor/ What it’s been distorted into: Everything under the sun. Everything from housework (which we already had a term for), to tolerating the existence of disabled people, to just caring about friends the way friends do. The original intent of the concept was “It’s unreasonable to expect your waitress to care about your problems, because she’s not really your friend,” not “It’s unreasonable to expect your actual friends to care about your problems unless you pay them, because that’s emotional labor,” and certainly not “Disabled people shouldn’t be allowed to be visibly disabled in public, because witnessing a disabled person is emotional labor.” Anything that causes a person emotional distress, even if that emotional distress is rooted in the distress-haver’s bigotry (Many nominally progressive people who would rightfully reject the bigoted logic of “Seeing gay or interracial couples upsets me, which is emotional labor, so they shouldn’t be allowed to exist in public” fully accept the bigoted logic of “Seeing disabled or poor people upsets me, which is emotional labor, so they shouldn’t be allowed to exist in public”).

Battered Wife Syndrome What it originally referred to: The all-encompassing trauma and fear of escalating violence experienced by people suffering ongoing domestic abuse, sometimes resulting in the abuse victim using necessary violence in self-defense. Because domestic abuse often escalates, often to murder, this fear is entirely rational and justified. This is the reasonable, justified belief that someone who beats you, stalks you, and threatens to kill you may actually kill you.

What it’s been distorted into: Like so many of these other items, the idea that women (in this case, women who are victims of domestic violence) don’t know what’s best for themselves. I debated including this one, because “syndrome” was a wrongful framing from the beginning – a justified and rational fear of escalating violence in a situation in which escalating violence is occurring is not a “syndrome.” But the original meaning at least partially acknowledged the material conditions of escalating violence.

I’m not saying the original meanings of these terms are ones I necessarily agree with – as a cognitive liberty absolutist, I’m unsurprisingly not that enamored of either second-wave feminism or 1970s addiction discourse. And as much as I dislike what “emotional labor” has become, I accept that “Women are unfairly expected to care about other people’s feelings more than men are” is a true statement.

What I am saying is that all of these terms originally, at least partly, took material conditions into account in their usage. Subsequent usage has entirely stripped the materialist critique and fully replaced it with emotional pathologization, specifically of women. Acknowledgement that women have their choices constrained by poverty, violence, and oppression has been replaced with the idea that women don’t know what’s best for themselves and need to be coercively “helped” for their own good. Acknowledgement that working-class women experience a gender-and-class-specific form of economic exploitation has been rebranded as yet another variation of “Disabled people are burdensome for wanting to exist.”

Over and over, materialist critiques are reframed as emotional or cognitive defects of marginalized people. The next time you hear a superficially sympathetic (but actually pathologizing) argument for “Marginalized people make bad choices because…” consider stopping and asking: “Wait, who are we to assume that this person’s choices are ‘bad’? And if they are, is there something about their material conditions that constrains their options or makes the ‘bad’ choice the best available option?”

#mad pride #neurodiversity #ableism #ageism #youth rights #liberation #disability rights #classism #capitalism #mental health culture #pop psychology #feminism #emotional labor

[kasagia]

Losing your memory

Pairing: Young! Coriolanus Snow x fem!Capitol! reader Summary: He used to be your Coryo. Now he has become the man you don't know. The Plinth heir. The future president of Panem. You pray every day to forget about the sweet boy you fell in love with, on whom you could always count. To forget who he was and lose the memory of the past. Just like he did. Well... not exactly. Unfortunately for you, he still wants to remember you. Inspired by: "Losing your memory" by Ryan Star Word count: 7,2 k ~•♤♤♤•~ Coriolanus Snow's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You've been avoiding him ever since you found out he was back in the Capitol.

A month ago, this news would have aroused great joy and ecstasy in you. Your Coryo is back home. He managed to shorten his exile and gain Dr. Gaul's favour again.

But the man who returned from District 12 was not your dear friend or lover. This wasn't your sweet Coryo, with whom you walked hand in hand to school. This wasn't the boy you shared your lunch with. This wasn't a boy who cared about your well-being above his own. This wasn't a boy who joked about snobbish children spoiled by the richest people in Panem with you and Sejanus at the end of the day. (Although he talked with them, trying to keep up good appearances—he used to call that one of the responsibilities of being Snow.)

The man who came back was Coriolanus. The new Plinth heir. The shell of someone you knew. The ruthless, cold pet of the mad creator of the Hunger Games you despised.

Sejanus' death didn't hurt you as much as the transformation of Coriolanus from the person closest to you into someone you barely even recognized. And from the tearful, sad, resentful, and disappointed stories you heard from Tigris, you had an accurate picture of the man who took your Coryo's place.

And you hated him with all your heart.

Especially after what he promised you when you stayed at his apartment for one snowy winter night.

You lay wrapped in the various blankets and quilts Coryo and Tigris could find. It was winter, and they didn't have much money for additional heating, so they mostly walked around the house in several layers and slept under piles of clothes.

You didn't know about that that night.

Tigris lent him her quilt so that he wouldn't have to be ashamed of the poverty his family had fallen into since you were supposed to come to sleepover with him after the argument with your parents.

Cuddling up to your blonde boy, you tried to fall asleep, listening to his heartbeat. You frowned at the sound of it being a little faster than usual.

You lift your head and look at him carefully. His gaze is distant and thoughtful as he lazily draws patterns on your back as he presses you against his chest.

"Coryo?" you whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand tenderly and forcing those blue irises you have loved so much to look at you. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

He sighs long and presses a kiss on your forehead, the tip of his nose stroking your hair, as he is inhaling your scent. "I just... I just think about the fact that you deserve so much more. My grandma and Tigirs deserve much more than... this." he says with disgusting pointing at the room you were in.

"This..." you say, clasping your hands together and pressing a tender kiss to the back of his hand. "Is more than enough. You are all I need. And one day, when you are President of Panem or any other important figure in the Capitol, none of you will lack anything. This is a temporary state. You are too smart to be anything less than great, Coryo. You know it."

You see him hold back tears. He pushed your head onto his chest to rest his chin on your head. He is not crying. He almost never cries. But you know how close he is to it by the slight quiver in his breathing.

"I know I don't show it often enough... but you mean... everything to me. I can't imagine how I would go through these all without you by my side."

"I love you, Corio. Just promise me you won't forget this. What you went through, what you experienced. Don't forget your struggle. That's something you should never be ashamed of." he tenses at your words but leans in to kiss you passionately and hungrily. Putting all his unexpressed emotions into action and into that kiss that warmed you more than any blanket or radiator could ever.

"I promise. I will never forget how you kept me sane. When you were the only shelter I could go to and the only support that could bear the boundlessness of my troubles and doubts. How you were my only moonlight in the worst of my darknesses." you laugh softly, recognising part of his words.

"Quoting poets will get you nowhere, Coriolanus Snow." you say teasingly, rubbing your nose against him, at which he chuckles, licking his lips.

"Well... I've learned that in some situations, it gets me somewhere. And it's a very cold night tonight, don't you think? I can't let you freeze to death." he says as his hands go under your shirt—actually, his shirt that you stole from his closet.

"Well… I guess there's nothing left for me… but to place myself under your solicitous care." you sigh softly as he pins you underneath him, making sure the cocoon of blankets is still tightly wrapped around the two of you.

"I couldn't have said it better." he whispers and presses his lips against yours, stealing your breath countless times. He pulls away just a little to say against your lips, "You're mine. We belong together. No matter what."

He makes you shiver as you eagerly agree to everything he says. You don't realise how, in the future, you will curse every single intimate, sweet moment you shared with him.

Ironically, you realise how deep he has gotten under your skin the moment he returns to the Capitol, and you have to avoid him, not when he is sent into exile.

It was probably because when he was gone, you were too distraught to bother leaving your room, opening the blinds, or wiping the tears that somehow kept leaking from your eyes to notice how almost every place reminded you of him. If you could, you'd go back in time and tell yourself there's no point in crying over the asshole he's become.

Although maybe you already felt that your Corio was leaving, and it was a way of mourning him?

Anyway, you saw him everywhere. Not Coriolanus. Coryo. He stalked you in the library, the park, the cafe near the academy that you two and Sejanus liked to go to, and of course the Academy itself. Kudos to your parents for not letting him into your house. At least he didn't pollute your room with memories of him.

Involuntarily, you wonder if he also sees you, for example, in every corner of his apartment. Or maybe he renovated it beyond recognition to erase all traces of his past?

You didn't know.

And you didn't want to know.

The information about him that Tigris gave you when you met her at your house when Coriolanus was at the university for classes was sufficient.

Just because it didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean you would abandon your only real friend. And just because things didn't work out with her cousin didn't mean she would stop (more or less subtly) encouraging you to go back to him.

"We talked about you." she says, making adjustments to your dress that she made for your birthday party thrown by your parents. Another one of the unpleasant responsibilities.

"You and your grandma?" you ask, trying to avoid HIM as a topic as much as possible.

"No. Me and Coriolanus." she says, pinning something to your waist—some decorative strip of fabric or something—you're not sure; you're too focused on the window and the bustling city as you are trying to ignore her words. "You know… I think… I think I saw in his eyes… the old Coryo. For a brief moment, but… maybe if you came back to him, he would come back to himself too."

"I'm sorry, Tigris, but I think he went too far on his path to simply go back to who he was. Surely not because of me."

"I understand… I just really miss him." she says it in a soft, broken tone, and your heart breaks at it. You hug her with all your strength, uniting with her pain that you also felt so deeply.

"Me too." you whisper in her ear as she cries into your shoulder.

Tigris was a very strong woman. She always impressed you. You wanted to be as strong as her. But even the toughest had to cry sometimes.

After all, there comes a time when even the snow melts... even if only for a little while.

You held him tightly in your arms as Corio cried into your chest.

His grandmother fell ill. Hard. Without a doctor, she definitely wouldn't be able to get out of this on her own, and they didn't have the money to pay for one, let alone the medicines.

Your boyfriend spent the whole day planning, thinking, and getting any money, but it was not enough even to buy the cheapest antibiotic.

However, you didn't expect that after you found out it all from Tigris and ran to him as fast as you could with the chicken soup prepared by your servants and all your pocket money, he would start crying.

Coriolanus Snow cried like a little baby.

You handed the money and soup to Tigris, who, after feeding up their grandma, quickly ran out with her to the doctor. At that time, you were holding your boyfriend in your arms in the other room, who simply fell apart from his helplessness.

"Shh… it's going to be okay, Coryo. She will live, falsify that stupid hymn and hate me for not being enough for you just as she used to." your attempt to comfort him didn't help. If anything, he only cried more, holding onto you tighter and tighter.

"I should be able to take care of them... I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I'm pathetic and weak. I'm not worthy of being called Snow."

"Hey, my sweet boy, look at me. You are strong. You are the strongest man I know. You are looking after me all the time; you literally give me everything you have, the last piece of your food, to keep me happy, safe, and full when I forget to bring a damn second breakfast from home or don't have time to eat something. You love me, and I love you, and that's how it works. We care about each other. And I have never, ever regretted being with you. Because what we have… is more valuable than anything else in this world. I trust you implicitly, and I will always be by your side. You are not alone with your problems and suffering. Not as long as I am here."

"But for how long will you stay? For how long will you endure with me?" he asks, and after one look at those a little red from crying, beautiful blue iris, you answer without a shadow of hesitation.

"As long as you love me and I can trust you. As long as I breathe. As long as I am in your mind and heart. I am not going anywhere, Coryo. Money can be earned, but what we have... you can't buy it. What I feel for you is more dear to me than any treasure in this world and I will never exchange it for anything else." you promise, stroking his hair tenderly to help him calm down.

You should've then wondered why he doesn't agree with you then. Why doesn't he say that he also feels this way and that he also values you more than money, glory, and honours?

But he blinds you by telling you for the first time that he loves you.

And you cling to him, wiping the tears from his face with your lips and foolishly believing that your love is pure and eternal.

Like a driven snow.

You knew this day would come someday. The day you let your guard down. But you hoped it would take a little longer before you came face-to-face with Coriolanus.

You are completely unprepared for this. You just freeze like a deer in headlights when you see his face at the end of one of the university's corridors as he walks forward, looking for something in his bag. Before you can even think about running away, he looks up, probably feeling watched, and his blue, icy eyes meet yours.

You both stand there transfixed, looking at each other, taking in the changes in your appearance since the last time you saw each other, which was after you broke up with him, when you saw how tenderly he treated Lucy Gray and how comfortable he was around her. And after someone politely informed you that he had kissed her.

"Y/N!" Coriolanus calls out to you and takes a step towards you, but you quickly step back and run through the crowd of people to get away from him. Unfortunately for you, he doesn't give up that easily. He never does. "Y/N! Wait!"

You have no intention of doing so. You run as fast as you can, bumping into several students along the way. You don't even bother apologising; you just run, hoping that Snow will stop being hot on your heels. Which, by the way, was a miserable dream after how fit he was after his training and the time he spent as a peacekeeper.

On the way, you notice a woman's bathroom and immediately run into it. You lock yourself in a cabin, thanking God or whoever is up that you managed to get an empty cabin and hide in it. You hear his quick footsteps and the door opening, followed by the screams of other women in the bathroom. You sigh in relief as you hear him obediently leave the room.

You're not leaving, though. You are not stupid. You know he's waiting at the door for you to come out. You decide to wait here until the end of the break between classes and hope that he will drop the idea of continuing to chase you and talk to you, and he will attend the lecture instead.

As the bathroom begins to empty, you realise that the next lectures must be soon. You stand silently on the toilet seat, listening carefully, waiting for the right moment to emerge from your miserable hiding place.

Just as you are about to reach for the doorknob, the bathroom door opens. You shiver as you hear heavy footsteps echoing off the tiles of the empty bathroom. And you think that you can smell the subtle scent of roses in the air.

"Come on, Y/N. I know you're here. I just want to talk."

Said the snake moments before eating the bird alive.—you think, mentally mocking how gentle he was trying to present himself. As if he could still be your Coryo.

"I have time. I can play hide-and-seek with you, if you want to. After all, you always liked to play this when we were kids. And you always lost."

You roll your eyes, listening carefully to his footsteps. He was opening the first cabin. You were in the middle one—the one a little closer to the door (and him).

"We'll have to talk eventually. You can't avoid me and ignore me, no matter how good you are at it lately. Let's stop this ridiculous, childish behaviour and go talk over coffee and some of your favourite cookies at the cafe near the academy. Just like the good old days. Well, this time all your orders are on me. What do you say?"

You would have snorted if it hadn't immediately revealed your hiding place to him. How dare he invite you to the place where you, he, and Sejanus spent the most time? To the place where your first unofficial date was.

He wanted to manipulate you, to make you believe that your Corio is still there and lives behind the façade of the rich, arrogant asshole he has become. But you knew better. His eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Even without Tigris' help, you realised that he... was a completely different person. He turned into somebody you only used to know in the past.

"Seriously? Still nothing? So you prefer the hard way, then..." he says, opening another cabin. You wait patiently for him to come to yours.

You breathe as quietly as you can, trying not to let him know which cabin you're in. You listen to his slow, measured steps as, with the incredible confidence and calm that is typical of him, he opens each cabin door, moving inexorably towards you.

Your heart quickens, beating madly, when you see his shoes in the whole, under the cabin's door. He reaches for the door handle, and before he can open it, you push the door against him with all your strength.

You hear him curse, taking a few steps back in a daze and holding his nose. You take the opportunity and run to the exit of the bathroom as fast as you can, not looking back.

"Fuck! Y/N! Are you insane?!" he shouts, running after you.

You reach the door just in time and slam it behind you, sprinting out of the university. You get in your car and drive away with your tyres screeching. In the rearview mirror, you see him leaving the building and following your car with a furious glare.

"I can't believe you invited Snow." you huff, fixing your makeup in the mirror. Your father is buttoning his cuffs, and your mother stands next to you, also putting the finishing touches on her appearance. "You hated him when we were together."

"He is an ambitious and clever boy. Plinth did well to make him his heir. You should reconsider whether he really is that bad. This match would have opened many doors for us. Not only among Plinth's allies but also among Dr. Gaul. God knows how she favours this boy. Who knows? Maybe one day he will be president of Panem."

"If so, I will run away abroad." you say it bitterly, putting your lipstick back in your purse and adjusting the necklace around your neck to make yourself look perfect.

"Don't be stupid. Snow wouldn't be so bad for you. Since you are our only child, we must marry you well. Make sure your husband doesn't blow our fortune in a week. And Snow is a thoughtful boy. He wouldn't let you live below the poverty line."

"And he's quite handsome." your mother adds, straightening your father's tie. "Still, he's not a womaniser. I heard he turned down the... special attention of Crane's daughter and a few other Capitol's girls. I guess he's been alone since your breakup."

"Hmm. Great. He wouldn't cheat on me with other snobs in the capital, but he would fuck with whores in the district. The perfect candidate for a husband." you scoff, walking with them to the next room, where the photographers were waiting to take a photo of you together.

“Language, Y/N. You are a lady. Besides, it is not certain whether he and this Lucy Gray actually had something between them. After all, she's a woman from the district.” your mom says this, smiling for the cameras.

The flashes blind you a little, but with your father's and mother's hands on your shoulders, you somehow manage to keep your pose, fake, pretty smile, and opened eyes.

Your father thanks them and leads you out of the room and into the corridor leading to the great hall where the ball was to be held.

"And even if he did, it's good that he had some fun. It will make him appreciate the treasure that you are and see that you are irreplaceable." he says, taking the box out of his pocket. He hands it to you with a warm smile. "Happy birthday, my treasure."

"We've already given her..." your father shushes your mother. You send them a confused look as you open the medium-sized box.

You find a tiara there. A small diamond tiara.

"It will match your dress perfectly." your father says proudly. You nod and walk to the mirror to put it on, despising the object in your hands with all your heart. You may look like a princess, but you've never felt so... disgusted with yourself before.

This feeling intensified even more when, after a toast and receiving wishes from several of your friends and more powerful families, you managed to sneak out to the balcony. Not long after you, all the single, young men of the richest family on the Capitol entered, with Coriolanus among them. They each took a cigarette and started smoking, gossiping about the events of the week…

And their topic of conversation was exactly what you were afraid of when you got that fucking tiara.

"Have you seen this? I bet they're pure diamonds. Old Y/L/N wants to marry her off so much that he's using every trick possible."

"He doesn't need to do much. She is beautiful in her own right. But this character… it's easier to train a dog than such a stubborn cow."

"What Snow? Are you now regretting that the Capitol's Diamond slipped from your hands? I heard she wants nothing to do with you. How unfortunate that it happened at the moment when you started to count in the eyes of the elite, and now you really have any chance of grabbing this precious gem for yourself."

The Capitol's Diamond. You shudder, thinking about the nickname you've been given.

That's what they called you. The sole heiress to your parents' fortune. Diamond of the Capitol, the best match in the city, with a dowry greater than any other woman. Anyone who won your hand was guaranteed to reach the top and success with your family's connections, your charm, beauty, and brain. And these vultures knew it perfectly well.

You were curious how the new Coriolanus would react.

Your Coryo only took advantage of your position in society when he had to. He didn't ask you for money or for you to convince your father to whisper a good word about him here and there. Maybe it was because of his pride; maybe he really didn't care. You have no idea. But Coryo despised that term as much as you did. You wondered if that had changed as well.

"I'm still in the game." he replies evasively, sipping his drink. The others laugh and he frowns in displeasure.

"Sure. Because the way she ran away from you today when you approached her with a gift says exactly that." they mock him. You see him clench his jaw, glaring at them coldly as he considers his next move.

"Enjoy it while you can. Your good mood will end when our cat-and-mouse game is over and the Capitol's Diamond hangs proudly on my shoulder." you huff, shaking your head in disbelief. You come out of hiding, and all the men on the balcony tense up and look at you in surprise.

Especially Coriolanus. Suddenly everyone is staring intently at the garden of your estate, too shy to look at you. Except Snow. He drills a hole into you with his gaze as he thinks of a way to undo what he said.

"Gentlemen." you scoff, walking past them and ignoring Coriolanus' glare. "For your information, I would rather live in one of the districts than marry any of you. Enjoy the party." you add sweetly, walking back to the ballroom.

The party is in full swing. You are talking to Thomas, using a sweet boy in a shameful way—to scare other men away from you. Just as you expected, they started flocking to you like flies to a fire.

So you chose the least spoiled of them. Thomas was nice and funny; you had a good time talking to him, and dancing with him was even better.

He wasn't rich; he wasn't part of the cream of society. You were really starting to enjoy spending time with him. And most importantly... he looked nothing like Coriolanus. He was nice for the eyes, but his dark hair, eyes, and sweet, shy personality made him drastically different from your ex. So he was the perfect break from your dramatic love life. Boring, nice change.

You danced to a waltz with him. He held you gently, close but respectful, not invading your personal space. He was a perfect gentleman. The man of your dreams.

If only Coriolanus' icy eyes weren't focused on both of you like a predator waiting for its prey to stumble, you would be able to enjoy Thomas' company to the fullest.

You are with him at the buffet, sipping drinks, when suddenly the last person you expected to meet here approaches you.

"Mrs. Plinth." you whisper in shock as he stands in front of you.

She looks—probably the way she feels. Nice on the outside and devastated on the inside. The dark circles under her eyes cannot be fully covered by makeup, and the deep black of her dress is a clear reminder of what she is still going through.

You can't imagine the pain he's going through right now. And you wonder why the woman decided to join her husband for your birthday party. Since Sejanus' death, she has rarely left their apartment.

"Y/N. Can I steal you from this young man for a moment?"

"Of course." you say, not even looking in Thomas' direction as you and Mrs. Plinth walk to one of the empty living rooms in your mansion. You close the door behind her and point to the couch. "Can I get you something to drink? Or to eat?"

"No. There is no need, darling. I just… I just came here to give you something." she says, pulling a thick letter out of her purse. "I… the letters from Sejanus are still reaching us. The flow of information between the districts and the Capitol is… very heavy and long. Especially when the peacekeepers are now checking every one of his correspondence. He sent it to you. Or rather, he wanted you to send it to him. Or rather, he wanted you to have it, just in case he couldn't… I'm sorry."

Your heart aches with sadness, seeing her on the verge of tears. She probably has no one to talk to about her son except her husband. After all, Sejanus was a traitor of Panem…

"He was a wonderful friend. The best one somebody could have. I could always count on him. Thank you for... taking the trouble to give me a letter from him. That... means a lot." you say, fighting the urge to hug the woman. The Capitol is not famous for acts of tenderness, mercy, or compassion. You had to keep up a facade. Always.

You take the letter from her and walk her to the exit. You give her one sympathetic look—everything you could afford in your position—and close the door behind her.

You sit on the couch and open the letter with trembling hands, trying not to look too closely at the way he wrote your name on the envelope. You know that will remind you of how you taught him how to decorate letters in his first days at the Capitol. Because everything here had to be perfectly beautiful. Even the fucking handwriting.

A bracelet falls out of the envelope and onto your lap. It is not particularly beautiful or sumptuous. It is a simple strap holding a peg-shaped pendant with some black, crushed stone placed behind a piece of glass.

You place it on the coffee table and open the letter with trembling hands. You already feel that after all this you will have to fix your makeup, which you will probably ruin with tears, but Sej's letter cannot wait until the end of the party.

Y/N, If you are somehow reading this letter, it means that I am not at your 20th birthday party, which makes me very sad. (You know how I love celebrating in your garden away from these Capitol's snobs.) Coming back, you know that I wish you all the best (along with Coryo. He's too big of a stick up his ass to write to you, even though he misses you and can't stop thinking about you. Take pity on me and write to this stubborn idiot, because I don't think I can stand another tirade about you and your perfection. Seriously. Our boy is getting mad because of this despair. I don't recognise him at all.) So, my dear friend, I wish you the best. I don't have any trinkets, interesting books, sweets, or anything suitable as a gift here, so I hope you'll be satisfied with what I came up with. I am not a poet, so don't laugh at me. I shall hear... or not. I made the bracelet, which you've probably already seen, myself. And that stone that is inside (and I hope it survived) is coal. I wanted to give this to you as a symbol of who you are to me. Everyone sees you as a diamond, something precious and beautiful. But for me and probably other people close to you, you are something more. This shiny diamond facade hides carbon. A simple coal, an ordinary soul like many others. But you made something more out of that ordinary coal. You are a diamond. Indestructible, the most durable of all. The purest form, preserved among the other gems and stones of the Capitol, because that's what all these power-hungry assholes are—coals that have decided not to change, to choose what is easy for them. I hope now you can see why I liked that nickname for you, diamond. So I hope you always stay true to yourself. No matter what. That's what I learned here, and I want to pass it on to you. Although I hope that by then the three of us will meet again in the Capitol. Do not wait for us both, Sejanus P.S. I miss you too.

You fold the letter and put it back in the envelope. You wipe away the tears that remain on your cheeks with your hands and take a few ragged breaths, trying to calm down.

You freeze when suddenly someone's arms wrap around you. The scent of roses hits your nostrils.

You get up from the couch like you've been burned and push Coriolanus' arms away from you. The feeling of sadness quickly turns to anger and pure fury as you stare at Snow.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you growl through a clenched jaw, extremely glad that there's a couch between you, or you'd hit him. And it was easier for you to explain your tears and smeared makeup than your red knuckles.

"Sweet, kind Plinth, giving you thoughtful gifts from beyond the grave. You love the dead Sejanus so much and ignore the living me. It must be hypocrisy on your part, don't you think? You accuse me of forgetting about Sejanus when you treat me so shamefully, worse than a dog. Should I die so that you can finally stop giving me the silent treatment and running away from me?"

"Believe me, you don't want to hear what I have to say to you." you huff, taking the bracelet and the letter. You hide them in the bodice of your dress and go to the mirror to fix your smudged makeup.

"You do not have to do that. Your boy isn't at the party anymore anyway." he says, standing so that you can see his reflection in the mirror.

"What?" you ask in surprise, turning to face him. You both stare at each other. In fact, you're only now getting a chance to take a good look at him. And you notice with dissatisfaction that the bastard found out from Tigris what your dress would look like, and he chose a suite so that both of you would match. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your little boy toy? Do you think he's enough of a distraction? That he can replace me? That he'll make you feel what I feel? Maby, that he can even protect you from me? Only I know you. I'm the only one worthy of your fucking attention and affection." you push past him, but he grabs your elbow.

"Touch me again and I'll cut off your hand and shove it down your throat." you growl, breaking away from his grip.

"Such aggression… I don't remember you from this side." he mocks you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You step away from him and cross your arms, staring at him defiantly.

"I will ask you one last time. Where is Thomas?"

"Let's just say that your mother and I caught him stealing your jewelry. We were merciful enough to solve the matter quietly. You will never see that garbage on the ball or any gala again. Certainly not on yours."

"Were you the one who framed him for this?" his silence and the calculating, self-proud look of the cat that caught the canary (or, in this case, the snake that choked the mouse) tell you everything. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you ask furiously.

You want to move past him, but he pushes you back, making you bump into the wall. He closes the gap between you in one step, pressing his chest against yours.

"You're mine. You've always been. You shouldn't lead this loser on or give him false hopes. We both know we will end up together."

"I broke up with you." you remind him, not caring about his intimidating attitude.

"A mistake I intend to fix." he says, leaning towards you.

His nose brushes against yours, and you shiver. You lift your leg, trying to kick him in the groyne, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees your sudden movement and grabs your thigh in a tight grip. If it weren't for the thick layers of material, he would probably leave bruises.

"You... you have nothing to fix. There is no longer us. I don't even know you anymore, Coriolanus."

"Don't." he growls at you angrily. You can see the desperation and madness in his eyes at the fact that you're using his name and that you wrote off your relationship. "It was always you. You were always mine, Y/N, and I was always your Coryo."

"Things are changing quickly. We are not the same, and now we have nothing in common, nothing to talk about."

"We have EVRYTHING to talk about. I still love.."

"DON'T!" you interrupt him. He freezes. You rarely shout, especially at him. That's why he takes a step back before putting on his impassive mask again. "Don't even say that. You have no idea what love is. Sure, you may feel attached and even desire me at some point, but you have no idea of unconditional, true love. So for old time's sake, leave me alone."

"What about you? Do you think you are so holy and blameless? That I'm the only bad guy? You lied to me. You promised you would stay with me, no matter what."

"I promised it to my Coryo. Not to you, Coriolanus. My Coryo died in District 12 with Sejanus—maybe even in the Hunger Games—when you let Dr. Gaul brainwash you in the name of fame, money, and position. You think that old hag didn't tell me why Sejanus is dead? That I don't know that your songbird has disappeared? That I would believe that Highbottom just got high or drank himself to death?" he clenches his jaw and fists at your words. You can see how furious he is, but he holds back, still controlling himself.

"Everything I did, I did for us. For you. For Tigris and Grandma." you laugh, wondering who he's trying to fool—himself, you, or both of you at the same time.

"No. You're doing it for yourself. Only for yourself, Coriolanus." he gets even more angry and pins you to the wall again. His cool blue eyes are raging with rage, and you try hard to push away the feeling of fear he has stirred in you.

"Do you want a reason to hate me? So you and Tigris can still gossip about my madness? Then maybe I should let this old man pursue her and sell her as a wife to one of them for good money."

"KEEP HER OUT OF IT! It's Tigris, Coriolanus! Tigris! The woman whose sacrifice you owe your entire fucking life to! A woman who went out of her way to give your ungrateful, selfish ass something to wear. Who sacrificed the love of her life in the name of maintaining the façade of Snow's wealth?! You can give a damn about me, Sejan, and even that little songbird of yours, but if you fucking ruin the life of your cousin—the only goddamn person who still cares about you—I promise you, in memory of OUR dead friend, that there won't be a fucking hole where you could hide from me."

You stare daggers at each other, both openly expressing your resentment towards the other. You have no idea why he still cares about you—is it because of your money, position, or some sick fantasy he has in his head, or maybe he actually still cares about you?

You don't think about it when a more important issue arises.

Suddenly, he grabs your face in both hands and pulls you towards him, greedily kissing you as he connects your lips after a very long time of separation. He caresses your lips with his and kisses you with such fervour as if he craves you like a hermit starving for water.

And for a moment, you feel like you were with Coryo, when all that mattered to you was the other one, when you could get lost in each other, forgetting about the rest of the world and the worries that were waiting for you.

And that's exactly what he's doing now. He makes you forget about anything but him.

You can't help but moan into his mouth as he presses his body against yours. When he releases his strong grip on your cheeks to grab you around your waist and press you against his body, his leg is between yours.

He kisses you more hungrily, groaning too at the familiar warmth of your body against him and the feeling of your soft, silky skin pressing against him. The scent of your perfume mixes, creating a perfect combination of roses and your favourite flowers. Your hands automatically go to his hair as you hold on to him and press him to you. You don't like the gel on your hands from his hair, but you ignore this new, irritating feeling by biting his lip.

You don't think at all. As well as Coriolanus. You both just kiss each other, your tongues joining, as you both let your desire for one another take control of the situation.

You only come to your senses when your lips break apart. You gasp, trying to breathe again, as he fucks your exposed collarbones with kisses. Your brain comes back to you as he leaves a hickey on your neck. He bites you, making you moan so needily that a wave of shame washes over you with his tongue, soothing the bite. You push him away from you and place your hand on your chest, trying to regain control over yourself.

"See? We belong together. There is no other way, Y/N. We are all we need."

"Bullshit." you gasp, trying to ignore the possessive, smug feeling blooming in your chest when you see his messy hair and your lipstick smeared on his lips. "Since you are that good in losing your memory, then forget about me too."

"I can't. I just can't. You think I haven't tried? That you don't haunt me every damn step I take? Everything I have and everything I know is saturated with you. With the memory of both of us. I forgot about what I had with that songbird and my friendship with Sejanus, but I simply CAN'T forget about you. I haven't spent a single damn day without thinking about you. NOT EVEN ONE. And I know you felt the same way. Do you know why I didn't kill that stupid boy who was clinging to you? Because I knew it would make you hate me even more. I was alone without you at 12, and you know how it ended. You are my conscience. Without you... there's nothing holding me back. Without you, there is nothing to distinguish me from the Hunger Games tributes. I have no borders, mercy, compassion, or anything that makes people human beings. And Gaul knows it. That's why she told you all of my crimes; that's why you're paranoid now that I'm someone completely different. But it's still me. I. Am. Still. Your. Coryo." he says it firmly, taking a step closer to you with each word.

"Don't turn me into a fucking cricket for your Pinocchio. I am not, and I do not want to be your conscience. I will not take part in your lies, games, and manipulations." you say as you both stare at each other, neither of you wanting to concede to the other in any way.

"I will have you. One way or another, but I will. Even if it is the last thing I do, I will have you by my side. Just where you always belonged. I promised you to be my First Lady. And I intend to keep that promise."

"You must become president first. And believe me, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Maybe you can't forget about me. But I can. I do not need you. I never needed you. How ironic to be able to lose the memories of everyone except the girl who will be the end of you, isn't it, CORIOLANUS?" you mock him, a smirk on your lips, making him a promise.

You walk past him, and this time he lets you go, knowing full well that he won't do anything more with you today. At least he got his kiss and a little taste of you, a reminder of the reward that awaits him when everything finally falls into place. When he finally has you in his arms and is at the top of Panem—his rightful place.

"The game has just begun!" he shouts after you, staring at you as you head towards the bathroom to touch up your ruined makeup. It gives you satisfaction to think that this bastard will probably have to clean himself up after your little make-out session, too.

You think that maybe Gaul was right about the Hunger Games being the whole world. But the reality was that there could only be ONE winner.

And among the people of the Capitol, only you and Coriolanus had a real chance of winning. It has always been like that. And even lost memories that do not want to go away so easily are proof of this.

Part 2

#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coryo #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus x y/n #coryo x reader #corionalus snow #oneshot #sejanus plinth #sejanus deserved better #snow x reader #corio snow #snow lands on top #tigris snow #coryo x you #toxic love #toxic relationship #romance #angst #argument #argue with the wall #kissing #dark coriolanus snow #unhealthy relationships #i'm proud of this one

[thebimbopalace]

ᥫ᭡. 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁. older bf!nanami hcs that live in my dreams w/ tiny drabbles attached. sfw + n*fw

.ᐟ contains — f!reader, explicit content (mdni), foul language, age gap (reader : early twenties, nanami : late twenties), feminine pet names, reader is in college, use of y/n, fingering, riding, spanking

.ᐟ authors note — this is very self indulgent (especially the first set of hcs). i just want an older boyfriend to stroke my hair and call me a good girl.

older bf!nanami who takes you on weekly trips to barnes and noble. he knows that reading is your way of escaping from the stresses in your life (which he tries to make go away) so, he figures to indulge you whenever you’re feeling down about anything.

older bf!nanami wants you to know money is no object when it comes to what you want. your happiness and mental well-being are a top priority for him. although he expects you to complain when he does spoil you. and you always do, not that it matters to him. he just finds it adorable.

“but kento—“, “but nothing my love, you want books you’re going to get them,” nanami says adamantly as he drags you by the wrist into the bookstore. the smell of paper and coffee beans fills your nose and you visibly relax. it’s like all your worries just melt away, almost as if they never existed. nanami looks at you and smiles fondly as he sees the creases in between your brows go away, your shoulders in their natural resting position, and your eyes sparkle with excitement as they skim the massive bookshelves. nanami grabs a basket, takes your hand, and walks you towards the escalator. “you can get anything you want my sweet, no limits.”

older bf!nanami would take care of you. always making sure you’re eating enough, drinking enough water, and getting sufficient sleep. he just cares so much for you, and the last thing he wants is to see his sweetie pie not at her best. as said above, your mental state and health are at the forefront of his mind.

older bf!nanami knows college is a lot for you. class after class, homework after homework, it seems never-ending. and he’s proud of you for handling it all so well. from what you’ve told him in the past, proper hydration and food consumption weren’t even on your radar during college. how you managed to survive off of water and a granola bar is something he still doesn’t understand.

“hun, i’m home.” silence. “babe?” nanami calls out to you. still nothing. he decides to investigate. as he walks around the main floor of the home, you’re nowhere to be found. he walks upstairs and peeks into your shared bedroom and there you are. Laptop on the bed, papers spread out across the sheets, textbook in your lap, eyes glued to the screen. focused. nanami walks into the room and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead. “hi hun.” you mumble something that sounds like “hey,” as you keep typing away.

“did you eat today?” he inquires. no answer. but from the way your fingers slowed down on the keyboard, he got his answer. nanami takes his massive hand and cups your chin, forcing, albeit gently, you to look at him. “i’ll ask again, did you eat today?” he firmly reiterates. your eyes shift away from him as you mumble a small “no.” he sighs. not out of disappointment, but out of concern for you. his hand slides from your chin down your neck and tucks a strand behind your ear. “up baby, i’ll make you something to eat then we’ll rest together, m’kay?”

older bf!nanami is a foreplay enthusiast. sometimes, it’s more fulfilling to him than the act itself. the teasing touches, kisses, and gentle licks to your most sensitive spots. and it’s worth seeing your reactions.

older bf!nanami who knows patience just isn’t in your vocabulary. your little mannerisms to urge him to hurry, makes his heart flutter. the bucking of your hips, your whines, and whimpers make the torture worth it to him.

“ken, please hurry,” you whine as his fingers stroke your pink walls deeply. he keeps your legs spread over his thighs as your back is pressed into his chest. his warm breath brushes against your ear as nanami whispers “mmm, maybe i should teach you patience y/n by not letting this pussy cum.” your stomach drops at that thought and immediately shake your head, not wanting to be punished. a low chuckle escapes his lips. “good girl. keep bein’ that and you’ll be rewarded,” he says as his thumb circles your clit. “hngh, kentooo!” you mewled loudly as mouthwatering friction is applied to the hard bud. his giant fingers split you open while the pads knead your g-spot with accuracy. “gods that pussy’s jus’ clamping around my fingers baby. feels good, doesn’t it pretty girl?”

older bf!nanami loves it when you ride him. normally or in reverse. i mean, how could he not love looking at you in that position? feeling the weight of you on his lap as you bounce up and down, your tits in his face (which makes it easier for him to suck on your nipples), to the way you cling onto his muscular physique as pleasure racks your brain. truly a gift.

older bf!nanami spanks you when you’re on top of him. there i said it. whether it’s to urge you to pick up your pace or to just watch as the fat jiggles from the impact, he has to see it. and he knows you love it when he spanks your ass or thigh. somehow, the pain provokes you to move faster, harder on him. you just want to satisfy him, and he couldn’t love you more when you’re like that.

“don’t stop y/n, feels fuckin’ good,” nanami groans as the fat of your ass crashes on his lap with every bounce of your hips. his hands clutch onto your hips as his fingers leave indents on the skin. “k-kento, ahh,” you whimper as your pace slows down. your knees and thighs begin to ache from the constant up-and-down movements on your lover. a rough smack hits your ass cheek as he says “did i tell you to stop?”, “no,” you say breathlessly. “then keep going,” he growls as his hand spanks your cheeks again. and again. and again. with each hit, your movements speed up. it’s like the cramping in your thighs is nonexistent as his large cock pounds in and out of you. loud skin-slapping sounds vibrate through the bedroom as your moves never cease. “that’s my girl.”

2024 © thebimbopalace — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @ thebimbopalace

#✎ᝰ. ( signed your majesty ) ! #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami smut #kento x reader #kento smut #jjk nanami kento #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x fem!reader #jjk nanami #kento x y/n #nanami kento smut

[snowsinterlude]

stuffed.

(coriolanus snow x f. reader)

summary: what better way to show your affection towards one than trapping them by your side forever? well, if there was one, president snow didn't knew about it.

c.w: forced breeding, baby trapping, president snow, cnc, slapping, forced creampie, possessiveness, stockholm syndrome at the end, fem. reader, reader is (was) a opera singer

singing like there was no tomorrow was something you did quite often, being a opera singer to the capitol was the best thing that could've happened to you before. especially since you were from the districts.

so now, knowing the president is your fan (something you didn't expected, not even in a thousand years), you were singing your heart out at his parties. every bouquet of white roses he gave you always hid something. pearls, diamonds, earrings of white colored jews. he seemed to like white very much- even though his suit was always the red ones.

then, there was money.

the motive for him to give so many things was revealed when he was pinning you on the wall, the posca he drank seemed to have took control over his brain. somehow, you didn't mind it. maybe because the idea of being the president's favorite girl was something quite appealing- something your stupid self seemed to like very much.

feeling so desired, feeling so loved was something adorable, lovely. especially when he woupd promise you so many things.

you didn't believe any of them. you always made sure to be on the pill, always made sure to put a condom on his dick, always made sure to tell him to pull out when you didn't had a condom.

he was tired of it. he wanted you to be pregnant for him, wanted to see your belly showing through your clothes and the fantasies you used when performing. he wanted you closed on his room with your legs open and your pussy wet- he wanted to kill all of those who were thirsting over you, over the way your corset hugged your body so nicely and made your boobs bounce.

with that in his mind, you noticed just how rude he was tonight.

"i want you to be my wife," he said, midfucking. he would always say things like that while pounding inside you. it was crystal clear to you that he didn’t really wanted it, or so you thought, because his intention ever since he saw you was to fuck his babies into you and make you bear all of them.

"c-cory, let's talk about it later- oh, fuck!" you moaned, fucking yourself on him as his dick entered you so nicely, hitting all the right spots. as always.

you recieved a slap on your ass, accompanied by a thick, strong grab. "not later," he pounded inside you, hand on your waist, grabbing you so tightly you felt like you'd simply die at his touch. maybe it was a good thing. "now. 'wanna talk about it now."

you mewled as he thrusted inside your cunt again, his dick hitting all the right spots, from your cervix to your sweet g spot. "n-no, later, mm, truly."

he slapped your clit. it was getting rough now. you could notice from how hard he bit your nipple, it's not that you don't like it- it's just because you weren't ready for it.

"i'm serious, dove. i want you to be my wife." you didn't listen, too caught up in the pleasure, in the painful bites on your nipple, on the angry soft slaps on your swollen clit.

"s-stop it, you know i can't- i'm a performer, i-"

"i don't fucking care," he grunted, his nails buried into your skin "you're mine. from the moment i layed my eyes on you you were mine." he said, looking at your mewling melted state. "you're so wet, so tight on me, and yet you claim you don't want to be my wife?"

he laughed, as if telling a joke to himself, as if that was the biggest joke on the world. each two thrusts made you squirm, you already came some minutes ago. there were two condoms filled to the brim with his seed by your side on the bed of his guest room.

trying your best not to cum again, he took himself out of you, taking the condom of your side into his hands. he hated the texture. if it depended on him he would fuck you raw everytime. and yet there he was, obediently following your rules just to fuck you senseless.

"w-wait, what are you doing? stop. stop it! ah, fuck!" you squirmed at the hot feeling of his cum entering you, being poured inside of you, it felt so good you couldn't help but want more, for your own surprise. "p-president snow-"

"now is president? until some seconds ago it was coryo." he said, fingering his own cum inside you, making sure nothing would spill.

"p-please stop, i can't be pregnant-"

"you can." he stuffed you with it again, spilled all the cum of he other condom inside you "you will. i'll make sure of that"

taking the condom out of his dick again, the blonde introduced his dick into you again, smiling at the sight and the feeling of your wet cunt.

"fuck- look at you. so wet and still trying to say you don't want it." he smiled, nibbling on your nipple.

"n-no- i dont want to be pregnant, i can't- i have to sing!" you moaned, your hips meeting his with every thrust. you bucked your hips on him, did your best not to like it, but you couldn't lie to yourself, it was wonderful.

"if you don't want this then why are you fucking yourself on me?" his answer was a long moan you gave him, your nails scratching his back, burying themselves deep inside him. "god, you're a whore."

"p-pills. i-i need to find my pills!" you squirmed, your cunt tightening around him so deliciously god that you had to bite your bottom lip as to not let anything out- not to let him know you liked it, from his dick inside you to his cum stuffed into you.

"you wont find them," he smiled. "threw them away"

"oh fuck- pull out, p-pull out!!" you squirmed, but it was too leste already, you were cumming on his dick and he was laughing at you while pinching your clit.

"you said you didn't want that"

"i-i don't. i can't, i sing. my entire life revolves around singing"

"not anymore" he came inside you, dick throbbing into your cunt as you squirmed. "just for nome months, you'll be a caged bird."

the idea he pictured to you was terrible. a wife, always in white, drained out from taking care of two babies. even if the feeling of his cum inside you was terribly good, the thought of being a mother was your worse nightmare.

he proposed to you again the next night. and of course you had to accept. being a single mother is never good to a girl who were originally from the districts. a lot of the capitol's people were running their mouth already, saying you seduced him, manipulated him, or whatever it was.

it was the contrary.

but of course they wouldn't know that, not with your wings clipped together for you to not sing your way out.

not with your round belly showing up. not with the two babies on his arm and his. both looked like you both. your nose, his eyes. his mouth, your hair. you loved them.

maybe it wasn't so bad.

#young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #young president snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tbosas smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #president snow

[an-spideog]

Don't Use Duolingo if You Really Want to Learn Irish

That title is a bit dramatic, but I really don't think that duolingo is a useful tool for Irish, especially in its current state, so I want to talk a bit about why, and I'll also talk about some alternatives.

Pronunciation

The first and most egregious issue is that at some point recently-ish, duo decided to start using Text-To-Speech for their Irish course, rather than recordings of a native speaker. The problem here is that their TTS is not trained on native speakers of Irish and pronounces words incorrectly. It doesn't make consistent distinctions between broad and slender consonants for example.

Irish has no standard pronunciation, so I understand how it can feel weird to choose just one dialect for the purposes of pronunciation (the old recordings were from a speaker of Galway Irish), but having just one dialect is much better than TTS which sounds like a learner, imagine if they had TTS for the French course which sounded like an anglophone schoolkid trying to pronounce french, and claimed they were teaching you how to speak french!

Grammar

Duo tends to be correct on grammar at least, which is a start. But often people using it get very confused about the grammar because duo doesn't explain any of it. I think there's a place for immersion in language learning, and I don't think everything has to be explained like that, but within duo's system of sentence testing and exercises like that, not having any explanation for why it's "mo chóta" and not "mo cóta" can be really confusing. Duo used to have more grammar information, it's a shame that they removed it, I wonder why they did it.

Money and Motivation

Duolingo is a business, and their motivation is not to help you learn a language 'fully', but to keep you using their app and hopefully have a higher chance of sharing it with others, competing with others, buying or causing others to buy memberships or lingots or any other in-app purchases.

I don't want to make it out like duo is some big conspiracy and they're tricking people, I don't think that's the case, but it's good to remember that their primary motivation is to keep people using the app, rather than help people move to a level in a language where they don't need the app anymore.

Keep this in mind whenever you see people trying to sell you stuff for language learning.

Why do people use Duolingo

I do get it, and I don't want to make anyone feel bad for using duo, there's a ton of reasons people tend towards it at first 1. It's really well known, so especially if you're learning a language and haven't heard of other resources for it, you'll check duolingo 2. It's very motivating for a lot of people, checking in every day and forming that habit is a really good way of sticking with a language 3. It's fun, people enjoy it

If you use it for reason 3. and you still like it, then don't worry about this post, I'm not trying to yuck anyone's yums, keep having fun!

If you use it for reasons 1. or 2. you can still keep using it if you like, but I want to suggest some other things which you might find helpful in trying to get to a higher level in Irish.

Other Resources

To address the pronunciation issue, I'd heavily recommend you disregard the pronunciation in duolingo, if you're looking for more reliable sources of pronunciation, I'd look towards recordings of native speakers, you can find that on:

Teanglann and Foclóir (they use the same recordings)

Fuaimeanna

and a really useful and underused one: https://davissandefur.github.io/minimal-pairs/ where you can hear the difference between similar sounds that English speakers often mix up in Irish.

A lot of people like duolingo because it's nice to have a clear path forward, a progression that you can get into without too much decision-making. For this I recommend getting a good textbook or course and working through it, the ones I'll recommend also have native speaker audio on them.

Learning Irish by Mícheál Ó Siadhail, this book teaches Galway Irish, not just in pronunciation but in grammar too. It's quite dense but it's well thought out and well explained.

Teach Yourself Irish (1961) this book is available for free online, and is a really good option if you're interested in Cork Irish (Munster), and have some experience with grammatical terminology. I used this book myself and really liked it, but it's very intense and not for everyone. (If you do end up using it, feel free to skip the appendices at the start, they're more of a reference and sometimes put people off from actually getting to the first chapter. Also if you have any questions about it or need any help just let me know.)

If you want a video course, there's a great course called "Now You're Talking" which is available for free online, along with audio files and worksheets here. It features Donegal Irish and leads into the more intermediate level course called Céim ar Aghaidh also available online.

There's other textbooks that I have less experience with (Buntús na Gaeilge, Gaeilge/Gramadach Gan Stró, etc.) but if they work for you, stick with them, there's nothing worse than not making progress because you keep switching resources trying to find the "perfect one"

Whether or not you continue to use Duolingo, I would really really encourage you to try engaging with media in Irish. People often shy away from this when they're learning because they don't feel like they're "ready" yet. But you basically never feel like you're ready, you just have to try and find something near your level and try to get comfortable with not understanding everything. This is where you learn a huge portion of the language, you hear how things are pronounced you see what words mean in what contexts, getting input in your target language is so important!

I know content can be kind of hard to find, so I'll make a few recommendations here: There's a wealth of content available for free online (more if you're in ireland but some internationally) on TG4 If you're still starting out, I'd recommend trying to watch some kids shows since they'll have simpler language and will be easier to follow. I wouldn't recommend using English subtitles when you watch them. Some good options include:

Dónall Dána: an Irish dub of Horrid Henry, silly and childish but the actors have good Irish and importantly the show has Irish language subtitles, they don't always match but if you're still beginning and can't necessarily get everything by ear, they're really useful. (Mostly Galway Irish)

Curious George: another dub, again with Irish language subtitles (I can't remember what dialects were in it off the top of my head but I'd assume mostly galway again)

Seó Luna: No subtitles, but a good option if you're aiming for Munster Irish, the lead character has Kerry Irish

Miraculous: No subtitles but a better show than most of the other kids' ones and more bearable to watch as an adult (Mostly Galway Irish)

Ros na Rún: Moving away from kids shows, a long running soap opera, this has Irish subtitles and a really good mix of dialects within the show. If you're finding the kids shows boring or too easy I'd really recommend it, but it can be complex because of the amount of characters, dialects, and plotlines. I'd recommend starting at the beginning of a newer season and just trying to catch on to what's happening as you go.

There are a lot of books, if you live in Ireland you can get nearly any Irish book for free from a library, so please check out your local library or request some of these from other libraries in the system:

There's a series of fairytales (Rápúnzell, Luaithríona etc.) by Máiréad Ní Ghráda which are illustrated and for children, which are a really good option for when you're just starting out reading

There's kids books about Fionn and the Fianna by Tadhg Mac Dhonnagáin

There's a cute little kids' book in Kerry Irish about a cat named Mábúis

Leabhar Breac has a lot of graphic novels, some of them based on Irish mythology, some on other stuff. The fact that they're illustrated can make it a lot easier to follow even if you don't understand all the words at first.

Gliadar has just released their Scott Pilgrim translation

If you're looking for something a bit more advanced you can look at some of the books for adult learners by Comhar, they contain simplified language and glossaries but have full original adult stories.

And if you're wanting full, natural, native-level Irish there's a load of books by those same groups, and others like An Gúm, Cló Iar-Chonnacht, Oidhreacht Chorca Dhuibhne, Éabhlóid, Coiscéim, and more.

And don't shy away from older books written in Seanchló either, they can be more challenging but it's a whole extra world of books

If you're trying to improve your listening comprehension, I definitely recommend listening to shows on Raidió na Gaeltachta, hearing native Irish speakers talk at full speed is really good practice. But I get that it can be overwhelming at first. Here are some things you can do as you build up to that:

Watching those same TV shows I mentioned without subtitles is a good way to build up listening skills.

Vifax is a website where you can practice listening to short news segments and answer questions on them, then getting to look at the transcript with notes afterwards.

Snas is kind of the evolution of vifax, now using clips from both the news and Ros na Rún.

I really hope that this post can help people move away from duolingo if they're looking to take their Irish learning to the next level, if you've got any questions, just let me know!

#gaeilge #irish language #irish #irish langblr #gaelainn #learning irish #as gaeilge #duolingo #resources

[sttoru]

“𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓? 𝐈’𝐌 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐓.” — ISABEL LAROSA.

𝓲. a collection of fictional works about gojo satoru as reader’s older boyfriend (8-14 year age gap). keep in mind that the reader is and will always be portrayed as an adult & university student — being minimum 20 years of age.

𝓲𝓲. the works are divided into both sfw and nsfw categories. please read the tags properly before you read each piece listed down below.

𝓲𝓲𝓲. requests for this series are closed for now. there will be an announcement made when the requests for this series are open again. i also have no deadline to finish any of the fics stated down below — this is a continuous and incomplete series for as long as i say it is.

general content warning: age gap & size difference. if you’re uncomfortable with these themes, please scroll or click away.

\\ ‘natural attraction of attention’ — sfw.

your boyfriend comes to pick you up from uni. little did you know that his good looks would attract much unwanted attention from your classmates; cw. jealousy.

\\ ‘maturity’ — sfw.

your boyfriend sleeps on the couch after an argument you both had earlier that day. after calming your nerves and taking time for yourself, you realise that you might have been a bit too harsh on him.

\\ ‘first - and definitely not last - good impression’ — (n)sfw.

your boyfriend wants to introduce you to his friends and co-workers. you were hesitant at first, due to the insecurities you have about your age difference. luckily, satoru knew just how to calm you down. cw. to be added.

\\ ‘bragging and its consequences’ — sfw + nsfw.

your boyfriend is to be bragged about. especially when he’s got the good looks, money and personality. satoru catches you in the act one day as you talk about him to your friend. cw. to be added.

\\ ‘birthday remembrance’ — sfw + nsfw.

your boyfriend welcomes you home after a stressful day at university. whilst spending the day with him, you feel like you had forgotten something important. and satoru knew just the way to remind you of it. cw. to be added

\\ ‘spoiled princess’ — nsfw.

you finally got the results to your recent exams back — all which were passing grades. when breaking the happy news to your boyfriend, he comes up with a way to reward you for your hard work.

\\ ‘a drug’ — n(sfw)

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

more to be added . . .

OTHERS.

texting with him (hcs)

texts with him (smau)

cuddle weather (drabble)

wearing his hoodie (nsfw)

first time at his house

𝐉𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍 © 2023. do not steal, copy or translate my works in any way or form. do not use my self-made banners and dividers.

#𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒. #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #teehee cant wait to write em all and add them to this masterlist

[starkwlkr]

annoying little brothers | f1

female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) (same age as daniel so 33)

part 2 part 3

Y/N L/N BEING THE FUNNIEST DRIVER ON THE GRID

The video starts of with a press conference from the United States Grand Prix. Y/n was seated with Charles, Pierre, Daniel and Sebastian her being in the middle of all the men who she considered her brothers.

She was listening to all the questions the men were receiving from how they thought they were going to do, how’s the team doing, etc. But when a reported finally asked her a question, she completely blanked.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about my son. We were supposed to get breakfast together and he hasn’t texted me back. I haven’t seen Lando all day.” Y/‘ said making the drivers and reporters laugh.

“When did you adopt Lando? I wasn’t aware.” Daniel played along.

“2019. He was actually lost when I met him. It was during the Australian Grand Prix, his first f1 race. I found him and we did the Melbourne walk together and I’ve just kind of adopted ever since. So if any of you bully my son, I’m coming after you.” Y/n explained.

“He’s probably texting you right now saying ‘stop embarrassing me, mom!’” Sebastian went on.

“Wait, he’s over there!” Pierre spotted the Brit rushing towards their direction.

“He’s alive!” Charles cheered.

Finally, Lando arrived to their interview area with a box from a a bakery in his hand. “Sorry, I have to drop this off. We’ll get breakfast tomorrow. I got you pastries.” Lando gave Y/n the box and a hug then he was off since he was late for his interview.

“You’ve raised your son well.” The reporter joked.

“That was all me, I needed no help.”

The next clip was a fan video from 2021. Y/n had just finished her date with a guy and now she was signing autographs and taking photos with a group of girls. The girls had just finished their meals at a restaurant when they spotted the f1 driver leaving with a guy. The politely asked for a photo, which y/n was more than glad to take. Her date stepped aside to give them a moment.

“Sorry to interrupt your date.” A girl apologized for her and all her friends.

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. I’m actually nervous because I don’t know how the date went. I’m horrible at first dates so this is kinda making me less stressed.” Y/n admitted. The girls laughed as y/n signed a girls phone case.

“Has he met Lando?” Another girl asked knowing how close y/n and lando are.

“Not yet. I’m afraid that Lando might scare him off. Everyone on the grid might, especially seb. He will definitely give him one of those ‘treat her right or I will run you over’ speeches.” Y/n signed another phone case.

“Does he knows you’re famous?”

“Oh god, no! I told him I was unemployed and that a sugar daddy was giving me money. I’m surprised he still agreed to come on this date with me.” Y/n chuckled.

Months later, the guy ended up being y/n’s boyfriend. He even attended the British Grand Prix where he finally met Lando, who was actually the one to tell him to treat y/n right or he would run him over.

The next clip started off with the intro to grill the grid. The challenge was to guess the driver’s numbers, something that y/n was semi confident about.

“So we start off with my man, Danny, number three.” She wrote down on her clipboard. “Four, my son, Lando. Also ever since I met Lando I’ve been seeing the number four quite often. It’s scary actually. Can’t decide if Lando put a curse on me or not.”

“Would he do that?”

“He shouldn’t,” y/n raised her voice slightly. “Anyways, next is … oh! Seb! I don’t know why I couldn’t think of him right away. Then we have latifi at number six then kimi at seven.” She continued writing down the names.

“Nine ….Mazepin.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes since her and the driver were never on good terms.

“Ten, my favorite frenchie well one of, we treat everyone nice here, gasly.” Y/n winked at the camera. “Eleven, the mexican minister of defense, Perez. And then we have me! Thirteen!”

“Do you think Lando got your number right?”

“I don’t doubt him ever.”

“Thirteen, my mother! Everyone better get that right.” Lando pointed at the camera menacingly.

“Fourteen, Alonzo. Sixteen, Leclerc Charles. Eighteen, stroll and twenty two!” Y/n sang the number in the tune of taylor swift’s song. “Yuki! Thirty one, Esteban, my other frenchie. Thirty three, max does he have a middle name verstappen.”

“Have you noticed that you haven’t gotten any wrong yet?”

“I’m just the best, that’s why.” Y/n laughed. “Forty four, the seven time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. Fourty seven, mick mick mick. I love to say his name.”

Y/n had completely forgotten she had to be writing the names down. She was having too much fun.

“Fifty five, carlos smooth operator sainz jr. sixty three, the man with two first names, russell george.” Y/n said as she looked down at the numbers on the paper.

“Do you know his middle name?”

Y/n gasped. “Is it another first name?”

“I believe it’s William.”

“Three names!? It sounds so british.” Y/n chuckled. “Um, seventy seven valtteri, right?” Y/n saw the interviewer nod. “I was getting worried my streak would be broken. And ninety nine, antonio!”

“You got all of them!” Everyone in the room cheered.

“Did anyone else get them all?” Y/n asked.

“Daniel did.”

“Of course. He’s good with numbers.”

The next clip was from the same grill the grid video but it was a blooper. Lando had arrived right as y/n finished filming and handed her a water bottle.

“Did you get my number?” Lando asked curiously.

“Yeah, ninety five, right? Cause you’re a McQueen fan.” Y/n teased as she grabbed the bottle from lando’s hand.

“Yeah, you remembered!” Lando played along “how did she really do?” He asked.

“She got them all right.”

“Really? I’ve got a smart mother!” Lando high fived the woman.

“It’s because I’ve got a photographic memory.” Y/n nodded with the most serious face on.

“Do you really?” Lando asked. He was surprised to hear that.

“No, I just love to lie.”

The next clip started with Daniel and Lando standing next to boards with their 2022 rankings. As predicted, Daniel and Lando’s part of the interview was mostly filled with them drawing over each other’s pictures.

Daniel them knocked over Lando’s rankings to the ground. “That’s how I feel.”

“That was the worst timing ever. Y/n is walking this way.” Lando told Daniel, who immediately picked up the board.

“Are those your rankings?” Y/n asked as she approached the duo. She then noticed that the setup and quickly apologized to the camera man. “Sorry, I’m just curious now.”

“Are you proud of me?” Lando asked, standing next to her and throwing his arm over her shoulder.

“When am I not? Wait, except that time you pushed me into my birthday cake.” Y/n pinched his side. “Can I see the pen?” She asked the guys, Lando gave her his.

“She’s adding to our masterpieces. This piece will be worth millions years from now.” Daniel said.

Y/n then scribbled little stars around Lando’s head and then signed it at the top. “Actually you both look great in your pictures. Did they use photoshop?”

“Excuse me, this is all natural.”

“Y/n! Hi, hello. What’s going on here?” Martin brundle asked the woman as she walked with her mom and pr manager, Lucy.

“Martin! It’s been a while, nothing much. How are you?” Y/n hugged the former racing driver. “This is my mom, she’s been wanting to meet you.”

“Mrs. l/n, hello. Welcome, how are you?” Martin greeted the older woman.

“Great. I’m here supporting my girl. It’s been a wonderful weekend.” Y/n’s mom smiled.

“Are you aware that you have a grandson that drives for McLaren?” Martin asked making all three ladies laugh.

“Yes, Lando is a very lovely young man.”

“How does it feel to have a daughter and grandson in f1?” Martin asked in a serious tone.

“Amazing. I’m super proud of both of them.”

“Thank you ladies for your time. Have a wonderful day.” Martin smiled at them, but before he could leave, y/n gave him a hug goodbye.

“Take care, Martin!” Y/n waved to the man and left with her mom and Lucy.

“She wins everything. Give her all the trophies. Everything is hers.” Martin said to the camera.

The final clip was consisted of y/n after a race getting interviewed.

“Do you often see your father?” Someone asked from the back.

“No, actually we’re just good friends.”

“What’s your opinion on the president of the United States?” Asked the same person.

“I don’t think about him.”

“What’s going on between max verstappen and lewis hamilton?”

“I don’t know, I just work here.”

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 driver!reader #f1 #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #lando norris #pierre gasly #esteban ocon #valterri bottas #zhou guanyu #carlos sainz #george russell #yuki tsunoda #logan sargeant #alex albon #checo perez #kevin magnussen #nico hulkenberg #mick schumacher

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Lies, damned lies, and Uber

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in PHOENIX (Changing Hands, Feb 29) then Tucson (Mar 10-11), San Francisco (Mar 13), and more!

Uber lies about everything, especially money. Oh, and labour. Especially labour. And geometry. Especially geometry! But especially especially money. They constantly lie about money.

Uber are virtuosos of mendacity, but in Toronto, the company has attained a heretofore unseen hat-trick: they told a single lie that is dramatically, materially untruthful about money, labour and geometry! It's an achievement for the ages.

Here's how they did it.

For several decades, Toronto has been clobbered by the misrule of a series of far-right, clownish mayors. This was the result of former Ontario Premier Mike Harris's great gerrymander of 1998, when the city of Toronto was amalgamated with its car-dependent suburbs. This set the tone for the next quarter-century, as these outlying regions – utterly dependent on Toronto for core economic activity and massive subsidies to pay the unsustainable utility and infrastructure bills for sprawling neighborhoods of single-family homes – proceeded to gut the city they relied on.

These "conservative" mayors – the philanderer, the crackhead, the sexual predator – turned the city into a corporate playground, swapping public housing and rent controls for out-of-control real-estate speculation and trading out some of the world's best transit for total car-dependency. As part of that decay, the city rolled out the red carpet for Uber, allowing the company to put as many unlicensed taxis as they wanted on the city's streets.

Now, it's hard to overstate the dire traffic situation in Toronto. Years of neglect and underinvestment in both the roads and the transit system have left both in a state of near collapse and it's not uncommon for multiple, consecutive main arteries to shut down without notice for weeks, months, or, in a few cases, years. The proliferation of Ubers on the road – driven by desperate people trying to survive the city's cost-of-living catastrophe – has only exacerbated this problem.

Uber, of course, would dispute this. The company insists – despite all common sense and peer-reviewed research – that adding more cars to the streets alleviates traffic. This is easily disproved: there just isn't any way to swap buses, streetcars, and subways for cars. The road space needed for all those single-occupancy cars pushes everything further apart, which means we need more cars, which means more roads, which means more distance between things, and so on.

It is an undeniable fact that geometry hates cars. But geometry loathes Uber. Because Ubers have all the problems of single-occupancy vehicles, and then they have the separate problem that they just end up circling idly around the city's streets, waiting for a rider. The more Ubers there are on the road, the longer each car ends up waiting for a passenger:

https://www.sfgate.com/technology/article/Uber-Lyft-San-Francisco-pros-cons-ride-hailing-13841277.php

Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops. After years of bumbling-to-sinister municipal rule, Toronto finally reclaimed its political power and voted in a new mayor, Olivia Chow, a progressive of long tenure and great standing (I used to ring doorbells for her when she was campaigning for her city council seat). Mayor Chow announced that she was going to reclaim the city's prerogative to limit the number of Ubers on the road, ending the period of Uber's "self-regulation."

Uber, naturally, lost its shit. The company claims to be more than a (geometrically impossible) provider of convenient transportation for Torontonians, but also a provider of good jobs for working people. And to prove it, the company has promised to pay its drivers "120% of minimum wage." As I write for Ricochet, that's a whopper, even by Uber's standards:

https://ricochet.media/en/4039/uber-is-lying-again-the-company-has-no-intention-of-paying-drivers-a-living-wage

Here's the thing: Uber is only proposing to pay 120% of the minimum wage while drivers have a passenger in the vehicle. And with the number of vehicles Uber wants on the road, most drivers will be earning nothing most of the time. Factor in that unpaid time, as well as expenses for vehicles, and the average Toronto Uber driver stands to make $2.50 per hour (Canadian):

https://ridefair.ca/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Legislated-Poverty.pdf

Now, Uber's told a lot of lies over the years. Right from the start, the company implicitly lied about what it cost to provide an Uber. For its first 12 years, Uber lost $0.41 on every dollar it brought in, lighting tens of billions in investment capital provided by the Saudi royals on fire in an effort to bankrupt rival transportation firms and disinvestment in municipal transit.

Uber then lied to retail investors about the business-case for buying its stock so that the House of Saud and other early investors could unload their stock. Uber claimed that they were on the verge of producing a self-driving car that would allow them to get rid of drivers, zero out their wage bill, and finally turn a profit. The company spent $2.5b on this, making it the most expensive Big Store in the history of cons:

https://www.theinformation.com/articles/infighting-busywork-missed-warnings-how-uber-wasted-2-5-billion-on-self-driving-cars

After years, Uber produced a "self-driving car" that could travel one half of one American mile before experiencing a potentially lethal collision. Uber quietly paid another company $400m to take this disaster off its hands:

https://www.economist.com/business/2020/12/10/why-is-uber-selling-its-autonomous-vehicle-division

The self-driving car lie was tied up in another lie – that somehow, automation could triumph over geometry. Robocabs, we were told, would travel in formations so tight that they would finally end the Red Queen's Race of more cars – more roads – more distance – more cars. That lie wormed its way into the company's IPO prospectus, which promised retail investors that profitability lay in replacing every journey – by car, cab, bike, bus, tram or train – with an Uber ride:

https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSKCN1RN2SK/

The company has been bleeding out money ever since – though you wouldn't know it by looking at its investor disclosures. Every quarter, Uber trumpets that it has finally become profitable, and every quarter, Hubert Horan dissects its balance sheets to find the accounting trick the company thought of this time. There was one quarter where Uber declared profitability by marking up the value of stock it held in Uber-like companies in other countries.

How did it get this stock? Well, Uber tried to run a business in those countries and it was such a total disaster that they had to flee the country, selling their business to a failing domestic competitor in exchange for stock in its collapsing business. Naturally, there's no market for this stock, which, in Uber-land, means you can assign any value you want to it. So that one quarter, Uber just asserted that the stock had shot up in value and voila, profit!

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2022/02/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-twenty-nine-despite-massive-price-increases-uber-losses-top-31-billion.html

But all of those lies are as nothing to the whopper that Uber is trying to sell to Torontonians by blanketing the city in ads: the lie that by paying drivers $2.50/hour to fill the streets with more single-occupancy cars, they will turn a profit, reduce the city's traffic, and provide good jobs. Uber says it can vanquish geometry, economics and working poverty with the awesome power of narrative.

In other words, it's taking Toronto for a bunch of suckers.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/29/geometry-hates-uber/#toronto-the-gullible

Image: Rob Sinclair (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Night_skyline_of_Toronto_May_2009.jpg

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

#pluralistic #uber #hubert horan #fraud #toronto #geometry hates cars #urbanism #ontpoli #olivia chow #self-regulation #transport #urban planning #taxis #transit #urban theory #labor #algorithmic wage discrimination #veena dubal