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#my feelings toward the job market
topaztimes · 2 days
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Hi this is a vent post! Continue scrolling if you'd rather not see that
#Giving time...#Still more time...#Wouldn't want to plague any previews#Maybe another filler. Just for some fun#Is this enough?#It certainly is now#Alright start:#I'm so bored. I am so incredibly; intrinsically; entirely bored. I have been taught the same thing for four years straight#'It's only four years!' that's literally a quarter of my lifetime right there. My formative years are being spent stressed and in a state /#/of constant self-loathing#I was watching a YT video and the phrase 'attention-starved STEM major' came up and I was like. Yea#What am I even working towards? The hope that my version of capitalist hell isn't as bad as everyone else's? I'm just so sick of not /#/having a stable future what with politics and normal working people becoming more and more oppressed#I don't want to work and that's not because I'm lazy. It's because my brain is recognising that there is no reward anymore#I used to have such a little spark in Yr7. I remember having things to say and wanting to share everything I've done#I still do that now; sure I do. I don't enjoy it though#I thought I liked drawing but I'm realising that all I really like is the attention. I COULD draw things I like drawing... but then I /#/ don't get attention which my mind then classifies as zero reward#I'm very tired of doing things for no credit; reward; or validation. This is becoming a theme#Then I wonder what I'm doing wrong. What part of the algorithm am I not hitting. Then I realise that I'm just not marketable in a way#God. I'm seriously breaking rn. It's not even only because of GCSEs#It's just a culmination of doing all these things to be told that I am unworthy of Having as a result. It doesn't matter if I'm smart; my /#/ parents still don't own their house and can't afford to pay for heating most days#Literally what am I doing this for#And then I realise that all of this is ALSO attention-seeking behaviour! I'm my own worst problem; I recognise exactly what's wrong with /#/ myself but the body wants what it wants. And what it wants is validation that I'm not going to get in this life#Hi guys! Maybe don't interact. That could fix me#Wean me off of needing virtual numbers just to feel something. Jesus#I can't even be happy with the things that I make for myself. Because I make nothing for myself anymore#It's just a whole sad existence of an expected 12hr+ of school every day until I get a job I guess. Then it's 12hr+ of job every day until
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Images of despair [stellaris version]
#when you're fighting the scourge and making 700+ alloys a month but you NEED MORE#genuinely so glad I invested into a dyson sphere early on to suck the market 100% dry of alloys#pumping out ships because my life depends on it#just imagine. you're a space trader and you heard there's some invasion of bugs somewhere in the galaxy#then the strongest military you've ever seen rolls up and offers you 'any price you name' for spare metal on your ship#you laugh and say '600 energy credits and I'll give you four metal pipes!'#the military says 'deal' and immediately deposits 900 energy credits [the market price of alloys is already increasing]#anyway I'm now sitting here with a military over five times larger than my naval cap#and over four times the population I had before the war#reason: people evacuated the planets the scourge bombed#thousands of pops have settled straight into my empire even in the most dire planets#every square inch of living space is now taken up and every single job is full#every single planet has unemployment [i have an overabundance of consumer goods so I'm just giving them all free stuff]#oh and since I'm gearing the economy now towards 'well. they gotta work SOMEWHERE' [building as many commercial districts as possible]#I am spending hundreds of special resources I do not produce to keep massive company complexes running#imagine this: strange otherworldly beasts are running down your homeworld#you escape into space in a small cargo ship stuffed with people#it's barely enough to be considered a transport but it gets you far enough away to feel safe#as you are running you see the largest collection of ships in your life warp into the system#they unleash hellfire on the aliens and then neuron sweep the planet [the very ground of which got infected]#you shed a tear and look away from the window#three days later you're told you've arrived#you touch down in an extremely busy landing area#there are hundreds of thousands of people everywhere. the mood is joyous#there are screens set up in the square broadcasting the eradication of the aliens#you see people in the crowd you've never seen before. people speak in tongues you've never heard#a guide calls over to you and all the other new arrivals#apparently you weren't the first to run. you won't be the last either#this planet has more than quintoupled its population and is still recieving many people every day#luckily the government has declared they are going to be constructing massive projects to introduce new jobs
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j-esbian · 7 months
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so so so fucking tired of people who perceive working in an office as the only “”real”” jobs
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shadowglens · 1 year
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working a corporate 9-5 job is good because i have a decent, steady income and something to occupy my thoughts during the week. working a corporate 9-5 job is bad because it’s a corporate 9-5 job.
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happyendingsong · 9 months
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i keep hmming and hawing over if i wanna keep doing artist alleys but i see the backpacks of weeb teens these days and it's all REALLY professional looking. and i know it's specifically artist alley merch because it's all heart badges and bunnyboy charms and tsum tsum knockoffs
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caroloftheshells · 2 years
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long post re theory pedagogy again
the other thing about that vid (and another thing! lol) being that hierarchically a lot of the people doing the more interesting or out-there research and diversifying the field from a content perspective (and, tbh, demographically) are like grad students or early-career people who don’t even necessarily have any pedagogical flexibility & tend to be slotted in to teach lower-level theory courses-- whose outcomes are predetermined not only by general screwy nasm strictures but by whatever the professor down the line in the curriculum is teaching / expects people to know when they get there. and we get paid (much) less also than tenured professors. which is really a generic “thing about all academia” that doesn’t necessarily become a nefarious personal flaw on the part of said scholars and instead ought to be addressed at a structural level bc the scale of the issue exceeds individual instructors’ spheres of influence.
BUT music occupies such a fucked “totally separate from society” space in many ppl’s imaginations that it’s like oh man how dare it have the same issues as every other field of scholarship bc it shouldn’t “really” be a matter of scholarship in the first place. ie music is culturally rendered a “nothing matters just feel it” / “everything is ephemeral and there is only Innate Talent and nothing can be taught” sort of field such that any intellectualizing thereof &/or suggestion of learnabilty / non-innateness is deemed, like, boring & regressive by some people & i’d say especially people raised with a certain awareness of the “composer-genius” culture of wam education. like i’m completely on the “fuck partwriting parallel fifths are awesome” train as a matter of taste (for example) but that does not mean that learning what parallel fifths are-- and why some old european guys didn’t like them *bc they preferred it to sound like there was more than one voice and it’s easier to create that perceptually w/o an overtone effect* (eg)-- is going to like destroy your artistic Essence and make you a worse musician bc now you’re no longer an empty vessel put on this earth to channel brahms or whoever. & plus i think perpetuating the synonymizing of theory-as-field with wam harmonic rules not only is like factually misrepresentative of current research but also is sort of a self fulfilling prophesy such that ppl who would otherwise have completely fascinating things to say & questions to ask are discouraged from non-platitudinous & open-ended (theoretical) inquiry re the content and aims of their own rep & listening, and tacitly learn that composers’ ~~genius~~ descended from the heavens & you either get it or you don’t, you either “have talent” as a composer or you don’t, et cetera
#Which I Maintain is dangerous not bc i think there is a set method of learning all music(s) obviously but bc that's how you get like#weird essentialism & i'm thinking especially abt anecdotes i've heard re: vocal pedagogy where ppl have been subjected to (...)#racial discrimination; gender discrimination; fatphobia / discrimination based on having or not having a certain 'look' to go w your voice#& told they are 'naturally' inclined to sing or study certain genres of music & shouldn't try anything else (not even ranges! whole genres)#which is maybe sort of tangential but i think stems from this same deal of 'you just have to Feel it' & such#the idea of music as ephemeral and quasi-spiritually channeled such that you lose something if you approach it w scrutiny#or if you have to break it down in a way that; in its detail & precision; reads as divorced from immediate aesthetic judgment#the idea that there's some magic there not to be explained; that composition thus is a special ineffable pursuit for special people. bleh#& the... in depth research and nuance and hesitancy to have a snappy take that like ime culturally describes many theorists. is good#& is; again ime; something valued by several music scholars who sought it out as a Way Out Of a certain brand of meritocratic bullshit#toward a different brand of weird pedantry of course but i think it has its place despite being hooked academically 2 a toxic music culture#in the sense that; for sure; there are egregious issues; but the repertoire bias is unilaterally present in wam circles#& it's like well. your problem is 'with' the textbooks but since when has a so called 'voice degree'#at your average som / public institution without enormous fucking tons of money#unlike idk berklee lol#actually regarded choral singing; musical theatre; art song; rock vocals; et cetera with the same seriousness as a wagnerian opera career#and made a variety of music available from a performance perspective as well. i mean my undergrad was vaguely ok here but On The Whole...#bigger fish re funding in notated-music industry and degrees as job prep for shrinking market etc#anyway though...... i value myself too much to be a youtuber lol#imagine me appending that 'just saying things recreationally' post to this post#carol overreacts to life#theorycomp tag
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taylor-titmouse · 2 months
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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notafunkiller · 4 months
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tying you to me
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Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.
Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader
Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 5.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.
“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.
“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”
Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”
“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”
“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.
“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”
He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…
“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”
“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”
“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”
“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.
“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”
“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”
Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”
“Night...”
*
The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.
You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.
“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”
“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.
Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”
You shake your head weakly.
“Look, I-”
“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”
You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”
The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.
“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.
What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?
“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”
“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”
“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”
“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”
You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.
“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”
“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”
“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”
“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”
“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”
Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”
“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”
“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”
“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”
You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.
“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.
He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.
“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.
“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”
“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.
He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...
“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”
“Then what is it?” You're confused.
“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.
“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”
“I... I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Deal with this... with you.”
“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”
“I just... struggle with change.”
“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.
“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”
“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”
“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”
You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”
“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”
You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”
“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”
“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.
“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”
Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.
“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”
“W-what? No!”
“No?”
“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”
You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?
“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”
Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.
But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.
“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.
He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.
You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.
“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”
He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.
“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.
“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”
He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.
You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.
“For you. This is all for you.”
Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!
“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.
“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as  he tries to pull them together.
“James!”
But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.
You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.
He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.
You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.
“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.
He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.
“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.
“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.
“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”
You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.
“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.
“You didn’t take them off.”
“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”
You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.
“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”
You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.
“James-”
“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”
You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”
Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.
“Good boy.”
That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:
“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”
“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”
That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.
He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents  prosthetic hand.
“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”
Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.
“You got a kink for my arm now?”
“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.
When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.
“You shave,” you say, surprised.
“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”
You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.
You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.
“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.
“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
“W-what?”
“Hands behind your back.”
“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.
“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”
No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.
You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.
He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.
“Too tight?”
“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.
“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”
You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.
“Words, please.”
“Yes, James.”
“Good girl.”
You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...
You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.
“Are you clean? Anything-”
“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”
You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.
“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.
“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”
You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?
You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.
“Won’t the neighbor mind?”
“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.
“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”
You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!
“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”
You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.
He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.
“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.
“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”
“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”
“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”
“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”
You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”
You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.
“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”
He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.
That hot ass…
“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”
And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.
“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”
He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.
You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.
“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”
You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.
“J-James...”
He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.
“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.
“Barnes, you’re heavy!”
His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.
Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.
“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.
After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.
“Gonna buy some cream.”
You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”
Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”
“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.
“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.
“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
He doesn’t laugh.
“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”
“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.
“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”
“Put it on, it’s freezing.”
“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.
“On.”
“Fine!”
He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”
You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.
“Really?”
“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”
You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”
“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”
“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”
You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”
“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
“Me.”
“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”
“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”
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Reading The Rise And Fall Of Gay Culture is very interesting and enlightening to learn about pre-Stonewall American gay [male] culture… but it’s also frustrating and depressing, that all the things that gay men are doing and finding a common culture in post-Stonewall are capitalistic and airbrushed and ageist and whitewashed and assimilationist and heterosexualized and and and and
Daniel Harris seems to be arguing that, in finding a common culture and other people who are ‘like me’ (or, in other words, not being “the only man in some one-horse South Dakota town” who’s sending out gay personal ads)— by doing that, by having ‘gay liberation’ via Stonewall—- we’ve already lost the fight, so to speak.
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suga-kookiemonster · 21 days
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ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)
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summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral
a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜
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When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.
Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.
You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.
“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”
Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).
“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”
“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”
Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?
An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”
“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.
“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”
“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”
“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.
The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.
“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.
He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.
The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.
“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”
Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”
“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”
“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”
“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”
He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 
“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.
“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”
“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.
Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.
Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”
“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”
“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.
“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.
Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”
“Soccer game?” you ask.
“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”
To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.
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lackadaisycats · 2 months
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Hey Tracy! Have you heard about the new Ai called Sora? Apparently it can now create 2D and 3D animations as well as hyper realistic videos. I’ve been getting into animation and trying to improve my art for years since I was 7, but now seeing that anyone can create animation/works in just a mare seconds by typing in a couple words, it’s such a huge slap in the face to people who actually put the time and effort into their works and it’s so discouraging! And it has me worried about what’s going to happen next for artists and many others, as-well. There’s already generated voices, generated works stolen from actual artists, generated music, and now this! It’s just so scary that it’s coming this far. 
Yeah, I've seen it. And yeah, it feels like the universe has taken on a 'fuck you in particular' attitude toward artists the past few years. A lot of damage has already been done, and there are plenty of reasons for concern, but bear in mind that we don't know how this will play out yet. Be astute, be justifiably angry, but don't let despair take over. --------
One would expect that the promo clips that have been dropping lately represent some of the best of the best-looking stuff they've been able to produce. And it's only good-looking on an extremely superficial level. It's still riddled with problems if you spend even a moment observing. And I rather suspect, prior to a whole lot of frustrated iteration, most prompts are still going to get you camera-sickness inducing, wibbly-wobbly nonsense with a side of body horror.
Will the tech ultimately get 'smarter' than that and address the array of typical AI giveaways? Maybe. Probably, even. Does that mean it'll be viable in quite the way it's being marketed, more or less as a human-replacer? Well…
A lot of this is hype, and hype is meant to drive up the perceived value of the tech. Executives will rush to be early adopters without a lot of due diligence or forethought because grabbing it first like a dazzled chimp and holding up like a prize ape-rock makes them look like bleeding-edge tech geniuses in their particular ecosystem. They do this because, in turn, that perceived value may make their company profile and valuations go up too, which makes shareholders short-term happy (the only kind of happy they know). The problem is how much actual functional value will it have? And how long does it last? Much of it is the same routine we were seeing with blockchain a few years ago: number go up. Number go up always! Unrealistic, unsustainable forever-growth must be guaranteed in this economic clime. If you can lay off all of your people and replace them with AI, number goes up big and never stops, right?
I have some doubts. ----------------------
The chips also haven't landed yet with regards to the legality of all of this. Will these adopters ultimately be able to copyright any of this output trained on datasets comprised of stolen work? Can computer-made art even be copyrighted at all? How much of a human touch will be required to make something copyright-able? I don't know yet. Neither do the hype team or the early adopters.
Does that mean the tech will be used but will have to be retrained on the adopter's proprietary data? Yeah, maybe. That'd be a somewhat better outcome, at least. It still means human artists make specific things for the machine to learn from. (Watch out for businesses that use 'ethical' as a buzzword to gloss over how many people they've let go from their jobs, though.)
Will it become industry standard practice to do things this way? Maybe. Will it still require an artist's sensbilities and oversignt to plan and curate and fix the results so that it doesn't come across like pure AI trash? Yeah, I think that's pretty likely.
If it becomes standard practice, will it become samey, and self-referential and ultimately an emblem of doing things the cookie-cutter way instead of enlisting real, human artists? Quite possibly.
If it becomes standard industry practice, will there still be an audience or a demand or a desire for art made by human artists? Yes, almost certainly. With every leap of technology, that has remained the case. ------------------ TL;DR Version:
I'm not saying with any certainty that this AI blitz is a passing fad. I think we're likely to experience a torrential amount of generative art, video, voice, music, programming, and text in the coming years, in fact, and it will probably irrevocably change the layout of the career terrain. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was being overhyped as a business strategy right now. And I don't think the immensity of its volume will ever overcome its inherent emptiness.
What I am certain of is that it will not eliminate the innate human impulse to create. Nor the desire to experience art made by a fellow soul. Keep doing your thing, Anon. It's precious. It's authentic. It will be all the more special because it will have come from you, a human.
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astrobydalia · 6 months
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🍂Cozy observations 🎃
Itssss fall you guys!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰 It’s actually super hot still where I live but that won’t stop me from living my cozy era. Anyways, I want to avoid collecting posts on my drafts for centuries so here’s more general observations!
work by astrobydalia
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🍂Aquarius placements are simultaneously the most understanding and empathetic people ever and the biggest assholes out there. I don't know how they pull that contradiction off but it's true (I mean this in the best way possible btw)
Moreover, I’ve noticed Aquarius placements are way more appreciative of kindness and social harmony than Libra tbh. Libra's desire for harmony can be just for the sake of keeping appearances but they are actually very judgmental. Aquarius on the other hand tend to appreciate authenticity and have a “live and let live” philosophy where they accept people unconditionally that’s why they attract popularity. Underdeveloped Aquarius tho do have a tendency to break social harmony due to pick-me behavior
🍂 Cardinal moons are serial daters. I swear every person I’ve met who had a rather active love life or were always crushing on someone was more often than on Cardinal moon
Also, Cardinal moons are always very dominant people even when don’t intend to be. They have a very summoning aura/personality that just demands engagement. They also tend to be social butterflies, even when they’re introverted they always end up surrounded by people somehow
🍂 I like to think Pisces is the final movie while Virgo is all the behind the scenes and editing
🍂I've seen this endless times where people with Mars in Libra or 7th house always end up either in law or business (mostly creating their own business, freelancers, entrepreneurs, etc)
🍂Any Venusian influence on the MC/10th house/6th house indicates a career or job where you’re required to dress up and appear very put together, having a certain aesthetic can be important in your career
🍂Saturn square or opposite MC/10th house ruler indicates the native was forced into a career they never chose/wanted in the first place or they had to wait a long time to finally have the opportunity to pursue their ideal career OR the path towards the career they chose could have been harder/more unfulfilling than they expected
🍂 I also like to think Taurus stops to smell the flowers and creates a flower bed for herself. Virgo studies the flowers and learns all about photosynthesis and shit. Capricorn creates a flower business and monopolizes the flower market
🍂 Those with Mars influence on their moon (Moon-Mars aspects, Aries/Scorpio moon) are really good at throwing shade but they’re unable to take it themselves. They don’t like to feel called out.
🍂 Mars in the 12th house people will 👏🏼hold 👏🏼 grudges 👏🏼
🍂 To be quite honest with you, every single Virgo sun I’ve met had a very standoffish personality.
🍂 Saturn retrograde individuals raised themselves. That’s why this placement is known to have issues with authority and discipline because their parents didn’t really parent them at all, so they had to set their own boundaries, rules and systems to navigate life. Getting their life together and materializing their ambitions could take extra effort for them
🍂 I usually like Capricorn Moons cause I always find that they are very loyal to everyone (friends, family, partner, etc) but honestly they are not as emotionally mature as you might think. They have a really hard time moving on from the past to the point where they can stay stuck in their wounded child self and spend a big chunk of their lives trying to overcompensate this with work, productivity and success. Tendency to depression, low emotional intelligence and being emotionally stunted. Deep down they feel like the victim of their own story
🍂 Aquarius sun+Scorpio moon: I’ve met quite a few people with this combo and with all of them I’ve noticed they always have a cult leader kinda mentality towards their friendships and connections (might apply to Aquarius+Scorpio combos in general). You’re either with them or against them. If you're not a follower they’ll hit you with the "cool kids table" attitude
🍂 My mom has Mercury in the 4th house and she once said "I don't mind moving abroad but I can't live in a place where people don't speak my native language. I need to hear my native language"
🍂 When it’s said that Venus in the 1st house people know how to make themselves look good it doesn’t mean just physically. The know how to present themselves as a more virtuous person than they actually are...
🍂Mutable risings, Mars in a mutable sign/house: their motto is “work smarter not harder”. Their first instinct will always be to find a way around challenges and difficulties. They usually aren’t the most action oriented people, but they are cunning. Their way to success is basically beating the system to make things easier for themselves.
🍂I can easily recognize Taurus Sun because they always ooze BDE. Also they always tend to have very rugged and bold physique/features
🍂From what I've seen Gemini Venus is a placement that easily makes someone stereotypically extroverted. Golden retriever energy
🍂Has anyone else noticed that succedent houses (aka fixed houses) are all related to money and wealth in some way?
2nd house: your resources, what spend your money on 5th house: gamble 8th house: shared resources, investments and debt 11th house: production of wealth
🍂All Gemini and Cancer risings I’ve met had some sort of hypersensitivity to stimuli. Gemini rising is more mental; anxiety, overthinking, information overload, etc they easily get triggered by immediate stimuli, specially noise around them. For Cancer risings this manifests more in the senses (photosensitivity, very sensitive to smells, flavors, etc) and heightened intuition just like Spiderman with spider-sense
🍂I’m sorry but why are Cancer Mercuries so elusive in their communication??? Everything they say has this "well, maybe. I don't know" or "I guess" undertone to it, they never openly say what they really mean. They are good listeners tho
🍂Underdeveloped Taurus placements feel entitled to use and dispose of people to benefit themselves. Tend to be very selfish and stingy. They do something for you they'll hang it over your head forever and act like they have ownership over you. You do something for them, they owe you nothing.
🍂Pisces Moons grew up in their own little bubble. It's very likely they missed out on 'normal' mundane experiences and this makes them feel very separated from the rest of the world and the rest of the people which is why they often come off as clueless and disconnected. They often give off the impression they've been living under a rock or a parallel universe. A perfect example of this is when Kim Kardashian said she's never been to a grocery store💀
Every single Pisces moon I’ve met never ever wanted to have kids and if they do have them they tend to not be too present in their kids’ lives. The harsh truth is pisces moons are not reliable, generally they are the ones who want to be saved and cared for
🍂I've noticed earth Venus and Venus-Saturn aspects are a little bit too good at showing contempt. To some degree they always remind me of Disgust from the Inside Out movie 😂
🍂 When I see Moon-Saturn conjunction in a chart I flinch a little tbh cause idk what’s worse the fact that their mothers couldn’t be bothered to give the native any sort of emotional comfort or the fact that these natives have normalized conditional love as the only kind of love possible. I've also noticed they grew up with strong authoritarian values and were never allowed to question hierarchies or status
Also, natives with Moon-Saturn conjunction are extremely shady people if you ask me. It's true they are insanely observant but what people don't seem to notice is that they are observant in a Joe Goldberg or Light Yagami kind of way without the murder They do be having inner monologues like that. They come across as calm, intelligent, respectful and trusted. Can use emotional expression (theirs and others') in strategic ways to influence others. Big tendency towards materialistic, utilitarian and/or elitist mindset too. I can't quite put my finger on it but I've met a lot of people with this aspect and the deeper I dig the more I keep feeling something very dark and/or disingenuous about them
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🍂Venus square Neptune people and their lack of self-respect… 🙁
🍂Aquarius Moons always give off the impression of having a rather lazy or passive personality. I'm not talking about their productivity but the fact that they seem to always have a "meh" attitude towards everything to the point where they can feel a bit disconnected similar to pisces moon
🍂Virgo risings often have freelance jobs due to Aquarius ruling their 6th house
🍂People with Industria rx (389) may actually dislike their work environment even if they like their job. I’ve noticed they often find the industry they work in to be toxic, depleting or too demanding
🍂Enterprise rx (9777) might always feel unsatisfied with their position, they might be the type to always want more and more
🍂 Aries Moon women and always attracting very immature and selfish men omg I've seen this time and time again
🍂 Scorpio moon/Moon 8th house is an underrated wealth indicator imo. I've noticed they always have a "from rags to riches" kinda life story. They however often face issues with fraud or debt along the way cause they have a tendency to take huge financial risks
🍂 you ever heard about the crabs in a bucket phenomenon? Well Ive actually observed underdeveloped 4th house placements do tend to have this kind of clingy and envious behavior particularly towards people that are really close to them. You can also experience this with people you have 4th house Synastry with; you get too attached to the comfort zone they provide to the point where they stifle your growth
🍂Pisces placements 🤝 falling for people who are bluntly abusive, controlling and narcissistic. They want to believe they’re living a beauty and the beast love story when in reality they’re trauma bonding
🍂Libra/Taurus Mars people ARE problematic and petty as fuck, they’re just good at the social game and making it look like they didn't do anything. Underdeveloped Venus energy is the opposite of peaceful, it gives major mean girl vibes and Mars being debilitated in these signs easily brings out this hostile side of Venus. The type to passively instigate drama just to make themselves look better. Very hypocritical
🍂What natives with Saturn in Taurus will consider first when choosing a career is make sure that it is well payed and gives them financial status. Other factors come second
🍂Fixed+cardinal combo in the luminaries is hands down the best sun-moon combo I've seen tbh (specially fixed sun+cardinal moon), they're a force to be reckoned with. Very charismatic, outspoken and confident people with healthy ego if developed. Most people I've met with this combo were very extroverted and/or excellent leaders
🍂Sagittarius placements 🤝 this pose 😜✌🏼
🍂Libra/7th house Lilith have a tendency to judge a book by its cover all the time
🍂I've noticed Pisces MC/10th house natives aren't very ambitious. They seem to not really care about things like self-development or being on top. From what I've seen they mostly aspire to have a pleasant and glamurous life that frees them form real life mundane worries and could desire to retire as early as possible. In some cases I've seen they could want a "princess" kinda lifestyle where they literally have no responsibilities. They want a career that liberates them from any pressure of achieving material expectations and allows them to just go brain dead all the time following a higher power/inspiration/knowledge. That's why many artists have this placements and I've also seen cases of Pisces MC people who wanted to be nuns and nurses. I've noticed that when they genuinely don't care about recieving recognition or achievements but rather do things bc it aligns with their soul that's when they become successful
🍂Scorpio placements have a tendency to be very cynical I've noticed, specially mercury and mars
🍂Gemini/3rd house Lilith can spot lies from miles away and will not be sacred to call it out
🍂As per my observation the water sign that gets idolized the most is not Pisces but Cancer 100%. Yes Pisces does get idolized but I’ve noticed that’s actually very short-lived, people tend to switch up on them SO fast cause they project a deeply unrealistic image on them and eventually fall off the pedestal. Cancer placements on the other hand are not infantized like Pisces, they are consistently very sought after people I’ve observed. They always come across as emotionally reliable even when they’re not, people always go soft for them while simultaneously respecting them so they’re always seen as perfect,kind,charming,etc. Their personality naturally portrays an energy of unconditional love and understanding so people easily get obsessed and addicted to them
🍂I always find that Pisces Venus natives have a very whimsical and juvenile personality. They also have a very extravagant taste they may like anything with bright colors, glittery shiny stuff, squishy toys, etc. they have a tendency to be a bit tacky and corny I’ve noticed
🍂Every fixed moon I've seen avoided any sort of emotional rehabilitation like the plague unless it’s strictly necessary. They believe no one can begin to understand them better than themselves and they got it all figured out already. Now this is more my opinion but I feel like they low-key underestimate the amount of healing they actually need to do cause they really struggle taking emotional accountability. They have a tendency to act like their needs and feelings justify everything so there's not much to "fix" or heal
🍂People who have at least 2 out of their big 3 in cardinal signs are often seen as the golden girl/boy
🍂Capricorn/Virgo moons will be literally the best at what they do and make it seem so effortless. If you ask them how they got so successful they'll be like "idk I guess I just practiced a lot"
🍂I’ve noticed your 8th house sign(s) represent themes that people are consistently using against you as the fastest way to tear you down, so you always end up feeling powerless here at some point. That’s why you tend to resent this energy and have toxic dynamics with people who have their planets here. This house is literally the death of you (8th from 1st), but it can also be the source of your empowerment once you claim this energy so it's best that you keep this house to yourself as much as possible. Some examples:
Gemini 8th house: using what you say against you. you could have a hard time with people believing your words, what you say is always scandalous and/or rubs people the wrong way. Gossip or information that makes you look bad. People always think you’re lying or deceiving or have ulterior motives Cancer 8th house: you could struggle with getting sympathy and emotional support from people. Others think you’re just being vulnerable and complaining for clout. Any display of emotion or care will be seen as manipulative. People trying to break or ruin your relationship with your family or closed ones Capricorn 8th house: you struggle with people respecting you, others don't take you seriously and don't see you as a valid authority. Any attempt to make yourself respected will be seen as dictatorial or elitist behavior, any desire to succeed will be seen as you being power hungry. People try to dismiss or belittle your achievements
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work by astrobydalia
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forever-rogue · 10 months
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I saw ur taking miguel requests!!! 🫢how about grumpy x sunshine trope with miguel trying to ignore his feeling for r (who doesn’t hide hers) until one day he just snaps bc she’s so perfect that if he doesn’t kiss her he’ll explode
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AN | My first attempt at Miguel, but I hope you enjoy 🥰
Warnings | Language
Pairing | Miguel x Sunshine!Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.5k
Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"You know, Miguelito," you popped up behind him and caused him to start slightly. He cringed at the fact that one, he hadn't heard you coming, and two, that you were there, "you'd be pretty cute if you weren't so grumpy all the time."
He made a small sound of frustration as you made one of satisfaction. There was almost nothing you loved as much as getting under his skin with your eternal cheeriness. 
"You'd be a lot more tolerable if you weren't so obnoxious all the time," he huffed as he walked past you, leaving you staring after his tall, brooding figure. His lack of response and disinterest weren't enough to detour you. You followed after him, a small skip in your step as you picked a few sunflowers from one of the market stalls, leaving behind a large bill for the owner. 
It took a few beats to catch up to the man but you soon fell into stride next to him. He turned his head towards you, raising an eyebrow in question but otherwise remained silent. You took the bright, fresh flowers and pointedly pressed them into his hand. They had felt so large in your grasp but were practically tiny in his hold.
"Why?" He grunted as you smiled brightly at him. His stomach churned with what he was positive was sheer annoyance. 
"Why not?" You moved so you were in front of him and started walking backwards. You could feel a few annoyed passersby step out of your way, grumbling but you weren't bothered. It was a beautiful, summer day and you were enjoying it with Miguel. He might have been your neighbor and reluctant friend, but you held a great amount of feelings for him, "everyone deserves something a little special now and then."
"Not-"
"Even you, Miguel O'Hara," even if he'd never admit it to another living person, or even out loud to himself, he thought you had the prettiest smile, "you're a good man, Miguel. Even if you don't want to see it. And just so you can't say no, I'm telling - not asking - you to come to dinner at mine on Friday. A few of the neighbors are coming too. Be there or be square!"
You offered him a parting wave before darting away and leaving him alone with nothing but his flowers and thoughts. Miguel let out a long, heavy sigh as he watched you go until you disappeared into the crowd. You often made comments about how good of a man he was; he wondered what you would think if you ever learned that he was Spider-Man. 
A heavy sigh escaped him as started walking towards the office where he worked at his day job. It might have been mundane and mind-numbing but sometimes he appreciated the monotony it provided compared to, you know, running a team of spider-people. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Today, however, he was very unthankful for the quiet and stillness. It allowed his mind to reel all over the place and somehow, annoyingly in his book, everything went back to you. You were so…incessantly happy, bright, and kind. It was almost disgusting but he loved it. Ugh. That realization practically made him nauseous. 
He stared at his computer screen blankly but his attention shifted to the vase now containing the flowers you'd gifted him. His fingers drummed along the top of his desk, and he couldn't help but think of the smile on your face as you'd given to him. You looked so pretty today, all cute in a summer dress and sandals, with your beautiful face and perfect hair.
And your lips…they'd looked so glossy and plump. He wondered what they would feel like and what you'd taste like and - wait.
No. No, no, no. He shouldn't be having thoughts and feelings like this. He was definitely just having a moment. He felt nothing for you besides the appropriate friendly neighbor feelings. Right? Right.
He was just a normal guy that was totally normal about you. Besides, he was positive that whatever odd flutters he was experiencing was probably something bad he ate earlier. Yeah. 
"O'Hara?" Miguel snapped out of his daze as he looked up to find his coworker standing in the doorway of his office, "everything alright?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" His voice was pitched about two octaves higher than normal and his cheeks darkened. 
"No reason," Diego shook his head in amusement, "just seem a little distracted is all. Nice flowers - your girl get you those?"
"She's not my girl," he almost choked on the words. His heart felt like it was fluttering around his chest with nerves, "she's just…my friend."
"Whatever you say man," Diego held up his hand in a small little salute before darting down the hall. He'd rather not be on the wrong side of Miguel's annoyance. 
The man in question, meanwhile, was left staring at the space Diego formerly occupied. Was it…were his feelings that obvious? Whatever those feelings were anyway. Did you like him more than a friend? Surely not. But…if other people thought that there was more than friendship between the two of you, maybe there was something. Maybe…
"Fuck," he scrubbed a hand over his tired face. There was way more going on in his head than there should have been. 
He hated it. He hated the fact that he'd probably been blind this whole time even more.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time Miguel showed up at your apartment on Friday, it had been a whole two days since you'd seen him. Two days too long you would argue. 
He'd arrived almost an hour earlier than you'd had expected with an anxious smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. These were daisies mixed with other seasonal flowers - your favorites. You'd mentioned them maybe once in passing but he'd remembered. You knew that this was no accident. 
"Hey there," you welcomed him inside, noting that there was something different about him today. Something just slightly…off, "you're early, Miguelito."
"Came to see if you needed some help with anything," he admitted sheepishly, watching as you gently took the flowers and put them into a vase before displaying them on the countertop. A shiver ran down his spine at your reverent actions, "and wanted to come and annoy you."
"Well, you're out of luck," you offered him a cheeky little grin, "you could never annoy me. So."
"So…" he snorted in amusement as you motioned for him to come around the counter so he could help you. You set him up with chopping veggies for a salad before turning back to finish your desserts.
"Can I ask you something?" your voice almost dropped to a whisper as you focused on the task at hand and all but refused to look him in the face.
"You just did," there was a teasing lilt to his voice as you groaned at his terrible little joke, "but you can ask me something else."
You were silent for a few moments, carefully mulling over your words. But then - you decided just to go for it, "how long have you been Spider-Man?"
You felt him stiffen, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he balked at you. There was at least part of your answer; you knew that you were right on the money. After a few moments of floundering he set down his knife and turned to you, "I-I have no clue what you're talking about. But you're funny! I mean me being Spider-Man? That's-"
"A true story?" You turned so you were facing him head on and crossed your arms over your chest. This was turning out to be thoroughly entertaining, "I'm a lot of things, but I'm not dumb."
"How did you…you know?" His shoulders slumped as a heavy sigh escaped him. It had been a long time since he'd shared his secret identity with anyone else. Sure, he had his team of elite spider-people, but no one else knew. There was a bit of him that was relieved to have someone else know. It made him feel so vulnerable but so…alive.
"I wasn't born yesterday," you nudged his arm and he let out a huff of air that you figured was amusement, "let's see - the mysterious injuries, the coming and going at odd hours, you 'happen' to be near anything bad that occurs…"
"Those could be…coincidences."
"And I've seen your suit," you turned to him with your hands on your hips and a little smirk on your features. Miguel's eyes widened in surprise as instinctively looked down at himself to make sure he wasn't wearing it, "you're not the best at hiding it under your clothes. Don't worry, I don't think anyone else has noticed. I'm pretty sure no one's looking at you how I do."
"And how is that?" He was practically vibrating with nervous anticipation. The idea that you were watching him in any sense made him feel electric, "how do you look at me?"
"Miguelito," you put your hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze, "you don't really need me to answer that, do you? You're a smart man after all."
"Oh," he nodded as though he understood what you were saying but you could practically see the gears in his turning as he processed your words, "oh. Oh?"
"Oh," you teased, giving his chest a playful shove. Not that it mattered, he was built like a mountain and didn't move an inch, "are we on the same page now?"
"Y-yeah," he answered while every single alarm in his mind and body was going off. Did you…had you really just confessed that you liked him without saying it?
Maybe you'd meant you'd liked as a friend. Surely - 
"Not as a friend," you answered for him, turning back to your dessert. You couldn't deny that you were enjoying this just a little too much.
"Are you a mind reader now?"
"Nope," you smiled sweetly, "I just happen to know you well. You're not as mysterious as you like to think. Not to me anyway."
He hummed in response as he leaned against the counter. He had the desperate urge to turn you around and kiss you dizzy. He'd been thinking about it for so long now, even if he'd never admit it to himself. Honestly - he'd dreamed of doing the same thing, and then some.
He'd been lying to himself for so long now that it had become his truth and his armor. In the past, when he'd let people in and opened his heart to them, bad things always happened. It never ended well for him or anyone else. And he wasn't about to be the source of anyone else's pain…not again. 
And you. You were so kind and sweet and lovely, a practical ray of sunshine and he was afraid that he'd just bring you down. That's why he'd put up a wall between the two of you. That's why he'd been lying for so long now. If anything happened to you…he wasn't sure he'd ever recover from that.
"You're thinking much too loudly," you turned and mirrored his position. He easily dwarfed you, which made you chuckle to yourself, "don't shut me out, Miguel. Talk to me."
He met your eyes and swallowed thickly before nodding in response. You offered him a small smile, hoping to coax him out of his shell.
"I want to kiss you."
Now that caught you off guard. He sounded so positive and unsure at the same time that it made your heart melt. You were about to say something but he quickly cut you off as he took your face in his hands, his touch gentle as he brushed his thumb over your cheek.
Your mouth parted in surprise before forming a small pout as you looked at him. You were going to be the death of him, he was sure about that. But it would be a sweet, wonderful death.
"Miguel?" Your voice sounded so small and gentle as you waited for his next move. 
And then he did it - he leaned in and kissed you, his lips warm and gentle against yours. He was hesitant at first, making sure it was okay to even kiss you but when you melted into him and sighed softly, he knew he was doing the right thing.
His large hands found your hips as he effortlessly picked you up and set you on the counter. You looped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, eagerly to finally experience his touch.
It felt so right, kissing him, like you'd been doing for so long and it was second nature for you. He kissed you until you were left dizzied and breathless, looking up at him with starry eyes. 
"Are you okay?" He ghosted his fingertips along your jaw, admiring your pretty face as you tried to catch your breath.
"Yes," you promised, wrapping your fingers around his wrists as he rest his hand on your cheek, "took you long enough."
"Yeah well…" he rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed softly, "you know how I am."
"Stubborn? Thick skulled? Bull headed?" You raised an eyebrow as he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. 
"Yeah," he agreed, "all of that."
He kissed you more, stepping into between your legs as you sighed into him. This was definitely going to be your favorite place in the world - his arms.
"I really like doing this," you pulled back but rested your hand on his chest, "but people are going to be here soon so we should probably finish dinner."
"Fine," now that he knew what you were like, he was addicted. He needed more, he wanted to know all of you in all the ways, "but this is far from over."
"Oh, I'm counting on that," you brushed a hand through his dark locks before kissing his cheek, "I'd be disappointed if this was it."
"Yeah," he let out a long exhale followed by a small laugh, "me too."
"What caused you to finally….realize?"
"You drive me crazy," he eyed you with eager eyes as you slid off the counter, "all the time. It just all made sense. So."
"So," you echoed and the two of you exchanged a small giggle, "hurry up, O'Hara. The sooner we finish all this up, the sooner people leave, the sooner we can-"
You didn't have to finish your sentence - he was already back to furiously chopping the vegetables. 
You were glad the two of you were finally on the same page. 
So was he.
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yandere-daydreams · 8 months
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Idk if Sex doll!au Alhaitham has been discussed yet…(honestly it probably has been, but it was likely during the times when I wasn’t keeping up to date with this blog. Tumblr’s shitty search function doesn’t help with finding out either.)
Anyway, I’d like to share my thoughts about it, if that’s okay.
-I think sex doll! Alhaitham would mostly be for professional and academic purposes. He’s not reccomended for younger grades, mostly just colleges.
-His general purposes are office/administrative related. Especially since he’s a “scribe”, he’s especially good at file management and documentation. I don’t think it be uncommon to see him assisting librarians alongside a Lisa model…or maybe helping archeologists/museums workers catalogue info about artifacts.
-I think his way of not doing anything more than what his job asks of him would stay even as an Android. I know that as a product, he’d probably wouldn’t be given leeway or time off like that; but the thought of someone trying to assign tasks to Alhaitham that are outside his designated role being ignored by him is funny to me.
-if Alhaitham is acting as a companion doll in someone’s home, I can only imagine that he’s incredibly annoying. Alhaitham normally chooses to ignore social etiquette, and as an android it has to be even worse.
tw - unhealthy relationships, slight infantilization, slight stalking.
i think he'd absolutely be marketed toward researchers as a sort of lab assistant who acts like you're the lab assistant, if that makes sense. he specializes in archival work and bureaucracy, but he's a bit of a jack-of-all-trades and it's not uncommon to see him alongside more outdoorsy androids like cyno and albedo when you're out doing fieldwork. he's also especially loved by students for his,,, strict attitude toward studying. you wouldn't think the ability to say 'i'm not touching your dick until you finish your thesis' would be such a popular feature in a literal sex doll, but, y'know, what does it for you does it for you, i guess.
you're not a student, though, or a researcher - just a librarian for a big enough branch to warrant writing off a helper android as a business expense. you probably could've gotten away with bringing on lisa or nahida, but you were able to find a second-hand alhaitham for a price you couldn't turn up and figured dealing with the occasional comment on your organization skills or catalog maintenance was better than wasting an extra thousand dollars on a robot that'll be reading to children twice a week. he works well enough, too, even if it does take a few days for him to get used to the idea that you won't be using him for his, uh, intended purposes. it just doesn't feel right, considering he's basically one of your employees - something he's surprisingly indifferent about, considering how judgemental he's rumored to be about, well, everything.
you do take him home at night, though, since the alternative is leaving him in a dark building alone all night and trying to live with the guilt. he's a polite enough houseguest, even if does occasionally let out a disapproving huff at your admittedly less-than-steller diet, but he does have a few... bugs, you guess, for lack of something better to call his little lapses in decorum. he's overstepped his boundaries a few times - taking pens and reports out of your hands because you 'have a tendency to mess these things up', checking on you in the middle of the night when he's supposed to be charging - but he'll never indulge your attempts to confront him, just clicking his tongue and shaking his eyes. sometimes, he brings up your stress levels, mentions off-handedly that orgasms are known to reduce overall tension, but denies that he's done anything wrong when you ask him to change his behavior. he's good at that - justifying himself, bending his protocols until he can get away with practically anything. you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little worried, knowing the awful rumors that spread about second-hand andriods, about how demeaning alhaitham can be when he's supposed to be little more than a platonic assistant.
you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little worried that, one day, he'd find a way to justify disregarding your autonomy altogether.
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feirceangel · 5 months
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Imagine | Harassed (Shanks)
Imagine doing some shopping when a strange man won’t leave you alone.
Warnings: some violence, reader is harassed and threatened, reader is a badass
Word Count: 1143
(Not my gif)
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You couldn’t remember the last time you stayed on an island this long. It must’ve been years ago, long before you met him.
Traveling had always been a desire of yours. To traverse the world, discovering different cultures and landscapes, that was your dream.
And you’ve been living it gratefully for years.
Of course, it’s always nice to spend more than a few days ashore once you have the opportunity.
Your Captain has business on this tropic island, and you’ve been enjoying the leisure time that this gives you.
Right now, you’re shopping at the local markets, admiring the bright jewelry and clothing that the various vendors offer.
A raucous laugh sounds off behind you. You ignore it, minding your own business, even as you hear a loud whistle.
“Hey, pretty lady,” a man’s voice says.
You continue ignoring it, instead reading the price of a beautiful red jewel.
This apparently aggravates the man trying to get your attention. He grabs your shoulder roughly, expecting it to be easy to turn you towards him.
You remain in place, stronger than the man anticipated.
After he removes his hand, you turn to him with a frown, “May I help you?”
He’s a tall man in a nice suit, not too shabby looking. Too bad his personality is rotten. Behind him are five more men in similar fashion. You take clear note of the weapons strapped to their sides.
“I was talking to you,” he growls. “I don’t like being ignored.”
“I don’t like being hassled,” you retort, crossing your arms.
“I was just saying how gorgeous you are,” he explains with a slimy grin.
You turn on your heel, “Thanks.”
“Hey!” He shouts, getting closer to you so that you can feel his breath. “Don’t you know who I am?”
“Do you know who I am?” You ask pointedly.
“You’re a pretty piece of ass that needs to be taught a lesson,” he scowls, stepping back. “And we’ll gladly be your teachers.”
Disgust washes over you.
“Are you trying to hit on me? Because you’re doing a poor job of it. And you’re wasting your breath- I’m already taken.”
“I could take you better than he ever could,” he tries to argue.
Your laughter is impossible to hold back, “You’re delusional, you aren’t even near his level. You should stop talking now.”
A smirk forms on your lips as you watch the man shake with anger. His eyes are alight with rage at being shot down and humiliated in front of his friends.
Meanwhile, you’ve mentally checked out, comparing the red of the jewel to your man’s hair. He loves seeing you in his colour.
A loud click goes off near your ear, the kiss of cold metal on your temple a warning not to move.
“You’re gonna regret speaking to me like that.”
You step back from the market stall, shooting an apologetic look towards the owner. The poor girl looks terrified.
One of the man’s lackeys has pulled his gun on you, standing much too close for comfort.
Unimpressed, you shake your head, “How immature.”
“I’m going to-“
He stops as a malevolent aura suddenly appears, causing sweat to form on his brow.
“What exactly are you going to do?” A deceptively calm voice speaks out, followed by footsteps as a red-haired man approaches.
The man in front of you has gone paler than a corpse, shaking just like the man holding the gun against your head.
“Red-Haired Shanks,” a man near you whispers in terror.
They seem to be grasping the situation now. Although, you could have handled the situation just fine on your own.
You smile at your man, who raises a quizzical brow.
“These guys bothering you?”
Before you can reply, the hassler interrupts, “Please, sir we had no idea-“
A gunshot rings out and the gun pressed against your head suddenly falls as the man collapses in a display of bright red blood.
Infuriated, you kick out, knocking the guy to the floor next to his dead buddy.
“Shut up. You should have respected me regardless of who I associate with,” you deliver a harsh kick to his side before pressing your foot on top of his chest.
“Scum like you are less than worms to me,” you grit out, adding more pressure until you hear a sickening crack of a broken rib and the man cries out in pain. “You never know when to quit.”
You reach out a hand towards Shanks and he hands you his sword without hesitation. None of this dimwit’s posse do anything to try and help their leader.
They know it’s a battle they could never win.
With a graceful flick of your wrist, the man below you is impaled through the heart. A clear message to anyone watching.
You fix your gaze on the remaining losers, “Don’t harass people, okay?”
They nod profusely, muttering nonstop apologies as they retreat quickly.
You crouch down to wipe the blood off of Shank’s sword, handing it back with a smirk.
“Darling,” he sheathes his weapon, moving closer to you and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “That was stunning.”
“Shanks, I was handling it just fine before you showed up,” you say, passing a glance over his shoulder to offer a smile to Benn Beckman. “But thanks for the assist anyways.”
“I know, but you know how I get seeing someone get so close to you,” Shanks says, looping his arm around your shoulders. “Especially when they threaten what’s mine.”
You grin, pressing your lips against his and nipping at him playfully.
“Why didn’t you deal with them sooner?” He inquires once you break away.
“Maybe I wanted to play the part of the damsel for once,” you tease. “Seeing you all protective and possessive gets me riled up.”
“Vixen,” he laughs, “You knew I was watching.”
“I always know, Shanks,” you wink at him. “Just like I know you’ll buy this for me.”
You show him the jewel that perfectly matches the shade of his hair.
He laughs, handing the money over to the shopkeeper, “I could never deny you, Y/n.”
He embraces you again and you lean into his warmth, inhaling the familiar scent of sake and sea breeze.
“I think I’ll have it made into a ring, that way everyone will know you’re mine.”
The grin that breaks onto your face is enough to brighten his whole lifetime.
He hugs you closer and presses a chaste kiss to your head.
He’d never let anyone else touch his treasure, he’d destroy anyone if they tried.
But he also knows you can fend for yourself, one of the many qualities that he adores about you.
You take his hand, leading him down the market, “Now you’re stuck shopping with me~”
He can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
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helloalycia · 4 months
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𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃
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summary: Lucy Gray has always been there for you, the only person you care for as much as you do. So much, in fact, that when you discover Mayfair's plan to have her reaped in the Hunger Games, you know you have to stop it. Even if it means giving up your own life.
warning/s: the usual warnings that come with the Hunger Games.
author's note: okay so someone requested another lucy gray imagine where reader volunteers for her, so that’s what i did but kinda did it a little bit different as the usual volunteering storyline feels very been there done that lol. Hope you all like it anyway! there’s a second part too :)
two / masterlist / wattpad
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It had been a long a day, my feet hurting from being stood up for so long and my exhaustion from working a long shift worsening by the second. But as soon as the clock hit 5pm, all my energy returned and I was quick to leave my apron behind as I left. Working at a crockery stall in the markets wasn't a terrible job, and it paid decently, but some days dragged longer than others and I only wished for it to end.
Thankfully, tonight was also a night that the Covey performed at the Hob, so I made my way over there, specifically behind it where the musical group got ready before performances in an abandoned garage they claimed as theirs. I always met before their shows, wanting to wish them luck and also because Lucy Gray, my best friend, would never let me hear the end of it if I didn't stop by beforehand.
"There you are!" Maude Ivory, the youngest of the group, called me over once I stepped in the open door. "You took forever!"
"I'm like two minutes late, Maude Ivory," I defended myself, and a smile fell on my lips when I saw her pouting. "Sorry."
"Can you braid my hair like last time?" she asked politely, already turning around and readying herself for me.
"I sure can," I agreed, smiling at the others as they got ready before moving to braid Maude Ivory's hair.
It didn't take long, just a simple braid around the crown of her head, complementing the rest of her hair that was left out in a way that made her look like a princess. Adorable.
"Oh, I love it!" she gushed, immediately looking in the mirror to appreciate it, and I watched her with a smile. "Thank you, Y/N!"
"No problem," I said dismissively.
"Wow, you look beautiful, Maude Ivory," Lucy Gray appeared beside me, smiling down at the younger girl, and then she gave me a playful look. "Favouritism much?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "All you had to do was ask."
She immediately took a seat on the chair Maude Ivory was moments ago. When I didn't move, she glanced over her shoulder at me with a knowing nod. "Well, go on then."
I rolled my eyes lightheartedly before moving to braid her hair next, squeezing her shoulder slightly in retaliation, and I knew she was smiling all the same. As I'd done many times before, I combed out Lucy Gray's curly hair with my fingers, unknotting it the best I could, before separating it into two parts and giving her two over-the-shoulder braids.
"You done?" she asked impatiently, definitely trying to annoy me.
I finished tying off the second braid before rounding the chair to take a look. Her brown eyes looked up at me adorably, and even though she did nothing special, my heart fluttered in my chest at the attention.
Okay, so maybe I liked her a little more than friends, but I couldn't help it. She was the only person I had in my life that meant something to me, the only one who truly cared. After becoming friends many years ago because we happened to play in the park together as kids, she was stuck with me, and I suppose my gratitude for having her in my life turned into adoration somewhere along the way.
The only real family I had was my father, but he had been bitter towards me since my mum died only a few years after I was born. He hated me without saying it, and I sought love in friendship with Lucy Gray. Though, it was so much more than that on my end. But she could never know, for I'd rather have her in my life like this than not at all. And I would never risk jeopardising that, ever.
"Don't move," I warned her, before leaving the garage for a moment to pick a flower I'd seen just outside.
When I returned, I was surprised to see her sat how I'd left her, though pouting. I carefully slid the flower at the top of her braid, near her ear, and stepped back to admire my work.
"You're done, Little Miss Impatient," I finally said with a stifled smile.
She gave me a disapproving look before moving to the mirror to check it out. Her facade faltered as a warm smile tugged at her lips and she admired the view.
"Okay, I'll let you off since this is pretty nice," she said jokingly.
"Wow, only nice? I thought it was much more than that," I played along.
Her smile widened as she approached me, before kissing me on the cheek and hugging me briefly. I was expecting neither, my brain short circuiting as quickly as she pulled away.
"It's beautiful, Y/N, thank you," she said truthfully, losing her humour. When I didn't know what to say, too busy trying not to think about her lips against my cheek, she said, "You're stayin', right?"
I blinked, dazed. "Huh?"
She began to chuckle, and then her question truly sank in and I cleared my throat, nodding.
"I– yes, I am," I said, giving her a small smile. "Where else would I be?"
She rolled her eyes playfully before turning to the others. "Right, guys, are we ready to blow everyone's socks off?!"
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As always, I enjoyed my evening at the Hob, cheering the Covey on and staying for all their performances as promised. It was always so lovely in there, except for the occasional fight that would break out between the miners and Peacekeepers, but none of that happened tonight. I was tired by the end of it all, as were the others, but as we all walked out together, Lucy Gray tugged my hand back.
"Hm?" I said, yawning as I looked to her.
"Are you in a rush to get home?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"No, why?" I asked curiously.
Excited, she said, "Come to the lake with me."
I quirked a brow. "Now?"
Expression softening, she nodded. "Yeah, it'll be nice. It's a clear night too."
Another yawn escaped my lips and I covered my mouth before shaking my head. "I dunno, I'm a little tired and it's getting late."
"C'mon," she insisted, before grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her, but not before looking to the others and adding, "I'll see you guys later!"
"Don't make too much noise when you're back!" Barb Azure, the eldest of their group, warned her.
"I won't," Lucy Gray mumbled, and then we were off and I just about managed to wish everyone a goodnight behind me before we were too far from them.
"How aren't you tired?" I asked as I fell into step with her, accepting my defeat and knowing I couldn't really decline her offer anyway. "You've been onstage all night."
She shrugged. "I'm a little tired, but I wanted to spend more time with you. You've been workin' loads lately."
I sighed, feeling a little bad. "Sorry, it's the house. Payments are falling behind and my dad is getting on my back and–"
"Hey, I'm not complainin'," she stopped me. "I just miss you."
A small smile crept on my lips at her unwavering honesty – that was one thing I'd always envied about her. She could say how she was feeling without overthinking how it could be perceived, whereas I was the complete opposite.
"I'm right here," I assured her, and then she glanced at me with a smile that warmed my heart.
"How is he?" she asked. "He still standoffish with you?"
"Isn't he always?" I said, a little bitterly, before shaking my head. "Never mind him anyway. Doesn't matter."
Probably sensing my mood, she said, "You're right, it doesn't. You have me."
I was glad it was dark out, otherwise she would've seen the pink dusting my cheeks.
We continued our walk to the lake, talking and trying to stay awake long enough to make it there. It was a long walk on a regular day, but tonight it felt even longer because of the constant stepping around and trying to find our way in the dim light of the moon peeking through the trees. Still, it was comforting to be around Lucy Gray instead of back home where my dad would no doubt be on my case, so I savoured the time together.
By the time we reached the lake – in particular, a spot where a cabin sat, with a dock and boat beside it – Lucy Gray and I were wide awake, any hint of exhaustion for the evening dispersing with our trek. We both took a seat at the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the side, and she nudged my arm gently.
"Look how pretty the water looks," she said with amazement, and I hummed in agreement.
It was beautiful out tonight, the lull of the water lapping over itself and shimmering in the moonlight providing the perfect view for a perfect evening. Being out here always put me at ease, but being out here with Lucy Gray was indescribable.
After a moment of quiet, she nudged me again and I took the hint, following her lead as we both lay on our backs to look up at the night sky. If the view before was great, then this was amazing. Stars filled the sky, dazzling and bright and filling me with a sense of awe. It was different than seeing the stars from my house – this was all open, isolated, peaceful. I loved it.
"How many have times have you been here at night?" I asked Lucy Gray curiously.
"Not a lot," she assured, "but enough to know that it'a perfect for stargazin', and you love that, so I wanted to show you."
I chuckled a little. "I do. Thanks."
Another quiet enveloped us, only the sound of the water, the trees rustling gently and some birds in the distance to be heard. I could have stayed like this forever. It certainly would have been an upgrade from my usual life.
"Did you see Billy Taupe earlier?" Lucy Gray asked suddenly.
Billy Taupe was her ex-boyfriend and an ex-member of the Covey, but we'd all be ignoring him for a few weeks now after we'd discovered he'd cheated on Lucy Gray with the mayor's daughter. As a result, him and said daughter, Mayfair Lipp, weren't fond of us, especially Mayfair, who seemed to hold a personal vendetta against Lucy Gray.
I nodded, glancing at her, but she was still looking at the sky. "Yeah. I avoided him, but him and Mayfair were glaring at me for sure."
She exhaled quietly, troubled.
"Did he say something?" I asked, attention fully on her now.
"He confronted me between one of my performances," she admitted, piquing both my interest and concern. "Started talkin' about how I needed to stop badmouthin' him to the rest of the Covey."
I furrowed my brows. "You haven't though. If anything, you barely mention him."
"Well, he doesn't seem to think that," she said with an eye roll.
I frowned, hating to see her upset at the likes of him yet again. "If he keeps bothering you, tell me. I'll have a word with him."
As if I'd said something hilarious, she began to smile and then laughter spilled from her lips. "You're cute, and I appreciate it, but you shouldn't get involved. Him and Mayfair are capable of a lot."
"Lucy Gray–" I started, ready to retort, but she cut me off with a serious stare, her smile fading.
"Promise me, Y/N," she said sternly, dark eyes boring into mine.
I gave in instantly, embarrassingly enough. "I promise."
Visibly relieved, she relaxed and nodded slightly before sitting up and stretching her arms. I watched for a moment, though thoughts of Billy Taupe and his foulness stuck in my mind. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Same with Mayfair? Didn't they have anything better to do?
"Say, you ever been for an evenin' swim under the stars?"
I blinked, barely paying attention. "What?"
She glanced down at me with a smirk, before standing up and beginning to step out of her dress. Realising what she was doing, I sat up and started to protest.
"Lucy Gray, it's gonna be cold and dark and–"
But she beat me to it, her dress pooling by my feet as she dove in from the edge of the dock. I wiped my face with mild annoyance as she splashed me, watching as she resurfaced with a laugh.
"C'mon, you gon' leave me hangin'?!" she exclaimed.
I narrowed my eyes at her with distaste, but as always, I couldn't say no to her. So, grumbling to myself petulantly, I stepped out of my own clothes and dove right into the water next to her. It was cold, as suspected, but as I resurfaced, my body was already getting used to the temperature. It was still the middle of summer, so it was actually quite refreshing in the evening heat, though my complaints of it being dark were still valid.
"Not bad, right?" Lucy Gray asked me with a grin.
I pushed my hair from my eyes and gave her a reluctant glance. "I suppose not."
Her grin only widened, and then she looked up, eyes reflecting the moonlight and shimmering like the water. "Look."
I looked up too, amazed by the sight of the sky yet again, but before I could say anything, Lucy Gray splashed my face with water, making me shriek with surprise.
"Lucy Gray!" I scolded, wiping my eyes as she laughed. "You did that on purpose!"
Her laughter only increased, and then I was attempting to splash her back, but she was swimming backwards and then I was swimming after her, her laughter filling the silence of the woods and brightening up the place more than the moon ever could. I eventually grabbed her and splashed her face enough for her to spit it out and cease her laughter.
"Okay, okay, you win!" she gave in, wiping her eyes before playfully glaring at me.
It was my turn to laugh and she rolled her eyes lightheartedly before swimming around me yet again.
We stayed there for a little longer, splashing about and talking about everything and nothing. It was easy to forget everything waiting for me back home, or my job that I didn't want to go to, or the reality of our lives. No, all I had to focus on right now was Lucy Gray's voice, her company, her.
But it was seriously getting late, no doubt past midnight now, and all good things couldn't last forever. We were floating on our backs, staring at the sky in a comfortable silence, and I hated that I had to interrupt it.
"We should go back," I said reluctantly, stopping floating. "If my dad realises–"
"Right, yeah," she agreed apologetically. "Come on."
We both climbed out the lake in a peaceful silence, tugging on our clothes and shoes and squeezing the water from our hair the best we could. As I was doing just that, I felt her eyes on me and looked up with a confused smile.
"What?" I asked, feeling the last of the water drip down my wrists as I let go of my hair.
She began to smile unabashedly. "I'm glad I have you. Thanks for coming tonight. For being here."
My face was heating up, but I played it off with a playful eye roll. "Weirdo."
She chuckled quietly, shaking her head, before leading the way back to the Seam.
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It had been a long day at work and the last thing I wanted was to come home to my father being grumpy, and yet that was what I'd gotten a few days later.
As soon as I walked in, I saw him home too, looking around the kitchen with a clenched jaw. He must have just got back from the mines, judging from the coal dust covering his clothes and skin.
"Hey, dad," I greeted politely, though already feeling tense because he didn't seem to be in a good mood.
"The hell is all this?" he asked me, ignoring my greeting and instead motioning to the dishes on the table.
"What do you mean?" I asked with confusion, leaving my bag by the door.
"It's a mess in here," he said with irritation. "Did you not clean up?"
"Dad, I've been at work all day," I reminded him, sensing he'd had a bad day at work, because he wasn't usually this hostile. "When would I have cleaned up?"
He raised his eyebrows, as if I'd said something absurd. "Excuse me?"
I swallowed hard, not liking the way he sneered at me. "I–," I started, but stopped because I didn't know what to say. Technically, they were his dishes. His mess.
"Y'know, I work really hard to keep us alive," he said with a glare. "And the least you could do is keep the place tidy. You do fuck all anyway!"
I clenched my jaw, frowning and trying my best to contain my annoyance. "I know you do. But these were your dishes. From breakfast. I didn't even eat, I just left."
"Oh, so it's my fault?! That what you're saying?!"
"You're not listening!" I couldn't help but shout, getting sick and tired of his behaviour. "Look, you might have had a bad day at work, but you can't just take it out on me!"
"You don't know what I get up to at work!" he shouted right back. "It's not like yours, standing there, looking pretty! It's hard labour! Something you could never understand!" Then he motioned around and added, "Clearly! This place is a tip!"
I clenched my fists behind my back, but my anger was building up. "It's a tip because of you, dad! You leave it a mess! Then you come back and you blame it on me!"
"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he yelled. "Have some respect!"
"Then actually try and listen to what I'm–!"
I couldn't even finish because he suddenly slapped me across the face, a sharp, blinding slap that knocked me off my feet for a second, leaving me stumbling into the kitchen table. I blinked, tears pooling in my eyes.
"Clean this place up," he snapped, before turning around to go to his room, slamming the door behind him.
I breathed out slowly, eyes burning now, and tried to ignore the pins and needles on my cheek. It wasn't the first time he'd hit me, and I should have been used to it, but it still took me by surprise sometimes. I hated it. I hated him. I would have done anything to leave, but I had nowhere to go.
Needing to get out of there as I calmed down, I left through the front door, waiting by the side of the house. I took in some fresh air and wiped furiously at my tears. He was the worst father a child could ask for, but he was the only one I had.
My face was hot and I was glad I couldn't see my reflection, knowing it would just be red on one side. As I finished wiping the last of my tears, I heard footsteps from behind me and sucked up a breath before turning around, worried it might be my father, back for round two. Thankfully it wasn't, but it was Lucy Gray.
She was smiling at first, then her eyes took in my expression and it faded instantly.
"What happened?" she asked straight away, stopping before me.
"Nothing," I assured her, though my cheek was still flaming, and she wasn't stupid.
She looked back at my house, and then back to me with a frown. "He was upset again, wasn't he?"
I looked to my shoes shamefully, not needing to answer. She knew what he was like, but it was something I hated to put on her. Nonetheless, she understood, and she touched my cheek gently, making me wince.
"You should stay with us," she muttered, trying to find my eyes, but I wouldn't look up. "We'll always have room for you, Y/N."
"I can't," I said with embarrassment. "And he's not always like this. It's– I'm handling it."
"No, you're not," she said, letting go of my cheek.
I didn't want to argue, nor did I want her pity, so I cleared my throat and looked up with the intention to change the subject. "What did you come here for anyway?"
She wasn't happy as she gave me a worried look. "Y/N–"
"Lucy Gray," I pleaded, before she could say anything more.
Giving in, she exhaled quietly. "I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a picnic with us tomorrow. You're not workin', right?"
At the sound of something much nicer, I relaxed and nodded. "I'd like that."
She seemed to relax too. "Good." Then she glanced over her shoulder at the house again, before adding, "You're stayin' with us tonight."
"I'm not–"
"You are," she insisted stubbornly. "You still have a few things left from last time."
I sighed tiredly. "I have to clean up. He's gonna be mad."
"We'll clean up together, then you're comin'," she reasoned.
"I'll do it myself," I told her, shaking my head. "You know he doesn't like me hanging around with you."
She looked ready to protest, but I shot her a pleading look. The last thing I wanted was to set him off again, especially in front of Lucy Gray. Thankfully, she seemed to get this and nodded reluctantly.
"Fine, but hurry up," she gave in, taking my hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "I don't like you in there alone."
"I'll be quick," I promised, before leaving her to clean up.
My dad was still sulking in his room, so I was able to clean up quickly and let him know where I was going. He didn't answer, nor did he stop me, so I left and met Lucy Gray back outside. She took my hand without question, not letting go until we reached her place. I was glad not to be alone tonight.
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A week later, it was another fun evening at the Hob where I watched my best friend perform and I didn't have to worry about work or my dad or anything. It was just like any other evening there, nothing out of the ordinary, or so I thought.
During one of Maude Ivory's talented solos, I got up to the go to the toilet, making it a quick one so I wouldn't miss a thing. But as I left the women's toilets, I caught sight of Billy Taupe and Mayfair chatting around the corner in hushed voices. I didn't care at first, trying to ignore they existed for Lucy Gray's sake, but then they mentioned the singer herself and I couldn't help but eavesdrop a little.
"...doesn't know when to keep her trap shut and herself to herself," Mayfair was saying bitterly.
"She's a singer," Billy Taupe reminded her. "That's what she does. Just ignore it."
Mayfair scoffed. "She thinks she has everyone in this town wrapped around her finger because, what, she can sing? And put on a little show? Well, you know what, we'll see how she sings her way out of the reaping!"
I froze from behind the wall, wondering what she meant by that.
"What?" Billy Taupe asked, just as confused but suspicious as I.
"She may have the looks, honey, but I have the connections," Mayfair continued, her hushed voice growing increasingly more annoyed as she spoke. "You just wait until reaping day. Lucy Gray won't be bothering anyone for much longer."
My eyes widened at her threat. What the hell was she talking about?
"What are you–" Billy Taupe started, but the sound of the floorboards creaking beneath my weight made him stop, and I cursed inwardly.
Before they could even consider investigating, I slipped away between the doors unnoticed, back into the main room where everybody was distracted by the singing, dancing and drinking. My head was reeling though, trying to piece together what I'd just heard.
There was no way Mayfair would do what she was implying, right? She wouldn't just sabotage the reaping because of a feud, surely? Would she? If she did, then that would mean Lucy Gray would be chosen as tribute and–
Oh, God. If she was chosen, she'd be shipped off to partake in the Hunger Games and that was it. She wasn't a fighter, she was a performer. And the Games was no place for someone like her. I'd never see her again. And her family– oh, no. No, this couldn't happen!
What could I do to stop this? Mayfair would never listen to reason, especially not from me. It wasn't fair, any of it.
Suddenly, I felt nauseous at the thought of everything playing out just as Mayfair wanted. Needing some fresh air, feeling overly stuffy in the Hob, I pushed past everyone and stepped outside, ignoring those who were enjoying a cigarette or drink and trying not to throw up.
I couldn't lose Lucy Gray like this, not because of some stupid feud. How badly could Mayfair hate her to do this? The Covey would be broken without her. She was too valuable to everyone. And she was all I had.
"Y/N?"
I turned around, seeing Lucy Gray approaching me with a concerned smile on her lips.
"What happened?" she asked, stopping before me.
I blinked, my thoughts still racing around. "What?"
"You left lookin' upset," she said worriedly. "What happened?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat, shaking my head. "Nothing. I just feel sick. Might've eaten something funny."
Her smile faded, replaced by a concerned frown. "Oh, gosh, do you wanna go home? Go to ours? I can walk you back. The others won't mind if I leave a little early."
She was watching me carefully, patiently, dark eyes flittering around my face as if she'd find the problem just like that. She was too kind for her own good and I couldn't help but think about how unfair this all was. She wasn't a bad person at all. How could Mayfair do this? Why couldn't I do anything about it? There had to be something!
"Y/N?" Lucy Gray said, before pressing the back of her hand to my forehead with concentration. "Hmm, you do feel a little warm."
It wasn't fair.
Without thinking, I hugged her tightly, promising myself there and then that I would fix this. She wasn't going to be subjected to Mayfair's wrath, not if I could help it.
"Woah, what's gotten into you?" she said with surprise, but returned the hug.
"Sorry," I mumbled, before pulling back and clearing my throat. "I just need some water. I'll be fine."
She quirked a brow. "You're sure?"
I nodded, trying my hardest not to worry her anymore.
"Okay... good," she said with relief, before a smile curled on her lips. "I've got a new song I want you to hear."
I returned her smile, letting her tug my hand and lead me back inside, but the truth of what I knew was already starting to suffocate me.
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For days I mulled it over, trying to convince myself that maybe I misheard or misinterpreted Mayfair's words. Or that, maybe, Mayfair didn't have as much power as she was letting on.
But deep down, I knew it was true, and she was just petty enough to send Lucy Gray to her death. Which then brought me to my next problem: what could I do to stop it?
Mayfair was the mayor's daughter and the mayor was the one who chose the names for the reaping. It was pretty solid, with no interference from me able to stop it. But what was I to do? Do I tell Lucy Gray? Her family? At least, if I did, it would give them time to prepare. But how exactly? Would it not be easier to just let it play out as to not ruin their last moments together?
I didn't know, and it was so much information to carry, eating away at me little by little. What I did know was that I couldn't lose Lucy Gray. What would my life even look like if she was gone? What would the Covey do without her?
Lucy Gray was loved, needed, wanted. She couldn't die, not when she'd be so dearly missed and had so much left to give. If only I could take her place... I knew I would if I could. Nobody needed me or cared for me, nobody but her. But she'd get over my death. And my dad couldn't care less. If it meant saving Lucy Gray, I would do it. After all, I loved her.
But I couldn't, because it was her name to be picked, not mine. And with her name, she'd walk onstage and I'd never see her again. How could I change that?
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