#why would i pay hard earned money for shit you did no work for?

[4kadhd]

Real talk I dont think ai art should accrue any value as time goes on like art made by a person, think they should stay however much they cost to make which is $0

[narcissarina]

𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 2,301

Summary: Your father hired Leon as your bodyguard.

𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴

Leon Scott fucking Kennedy

The name that you heard so much from the news and to the mouths of your family. They even think of hiring him as your bodyguard, to protect you from danger—danger from this world.

“He’s big and strong, a kind of man you need.” You remember your father utter those words, as if he’s implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. Isn’t that why you started to learn martial arts? You think you don’t need a man to save you from danger when you can fight danger on your own, as long as you train hard enough.

Men are shit, that’s what you always thought.

Your father is shit, he left you with your struggling mother who tried everything to provide for you. Then he had the audacity to take you away from her when she passed.

Your exes are shit, they either cheated on your or just didn’t made time for you. They’re assholes, you despise their good for nothing excuses.

Then degenerates you see on the streets, eyeing you and catcalling you as if you were some trophy to won over nor steal.

You wanted to test this bodyguard of yours his patience, how long will it take before he snaps and leaves.

Such a thrilling experience, right?

𝙸.

Rolling over in your bed, you groan and hit your pillow a few times then threw it across your room. Ever since your asshole of a father took you in after your mom’s funeral, he took you in without asking if you have a say in it. Although you and your mother struggled financially, she was a good mother—working extra hours to earn little salary just to buy you new toys and essentials when you were young.

You despise your father, despise those fancy dresses he buys to you, despise those expensive gifts that he bought for you a few weeks ago. You just hate everything in this household.

Your step-mom was a little controlling, whenever you put on a slight revealing outfit—she would comment about it and make you change clothes, although you don’t listen and just went out with that outfit, she’d glare as if someone committed a sin in front of her.

You got up from bed, grumbling. Reaching out to find your phone on the bedside drawer and check the time, 9:20 AM.

Slowly then quickly getting out of bed to shower, brush your teeth, put on make-up. If step-mom was here, she’d asked; “who are you getting dolled up for, honey?” faking an innocent tone.

Mind your business, bitch.

You wore a fitted top, flared jeans and the converse heels that your mother bought for you—it was expensive as hell, but you appreciate every hard effort that your mother gives. Just to make her only child happy.

You always clean it whenever it gets dirty, even a slightest dust would bother you and you’d whine and get angry when it gets even a slightest dirt.

Your mom did say that she had to borrow some money to buy those heels for you, but you didn’t get a chance who she loans to. You wanted to pay her back and help her with the expenses, even wanting to help her pay those money back. But she declined, she said that all she wanted is that to see her little baby pretty, healthy and happy.

Looking at yourself in the full length mirror, turning around to see if it’s a match and that you’re ready to slay for the day. You grabbed your bag with what you need and got downstairs, you were greeted with the aroma of delicious food at the kitchen. One of father’s maids was cooking your breakfast, “morning.” You greet her with a smile.

The maid turn and smiled, “morning, miss!” seeing you greet her with a smile every morning she cooks for you, gives a warming sensation to the maids heart, “can I have some coffee, please?” you asked nicely, the maid nods and follows as she serve your plat in front of you. You always ask so politely, always saying please and saying it in a calm tone—well, your father is like that too, but you’re stepmother? She demands.

“would you like your coffee to be hot or iced?” the question made you snap away from your thoughts, fiddling with your pen and staring blankly at your assignment that you should’ve done last night, but laziness hits so who could blame you? Your friends.

“iced please.” You turn back to your assignment, “professor didn’t even teach this in class, what the��” you grip onto your hair and let out a frustrated sigh. Maybe if Sarina came to school today, she’ll teach you, right?

You felt something cold next to your cheek, you flinch at the cold and snap your eyes towards the maid. She chuckle, “sorry, miss. I could not help myself.” God even the maid in this house speaks expensive.

You smiled and took your ice coffee and thank the maid, which she always bow with elegance and say, “I am happy to serve you.” As if you were her master and she’s your slave, serving you and taking your request as demands.

You ate and left. Walked to school? No, your father wouldn’t let you. He’ll order every helper around the house to have you driven to school, he’d even go far as fire a random servant when you go against his words—so not only you didn’t listen, but also got a servant (who’s minding their own business) in trouble.

You didn’t want that, so you just follow what your father says and be a good little girl.

You practically zoned out throughout the entire ride, your driver not wanting to offend if he breaths wrong and get him fired, he asked nervously. “M-Ma’am…” he starts and you snap back to reality, “we have arrived at your destination.” Embarrassed as you are, zoning out throughout the entire ride—you check the time, 10:10 AM. You look at the driver in the eye and smiled at him, “thank you!” and left him some tip.

“Ma’am, I-I can’t take this!” the driver yelled, but you were already inside the school ground, the drivers voice didn’t reach your ear because you have an assignment to turn in. Wanting to find Sarina quick, you know just the place she’ll be in.

The library, because she is a book whore.

Quickly making your way to the library, you spot her. Finally! You spoke in your mind and rushes up to her, your heels clicking. Sarina was alerted and look up from her book, her gaze was killing but when she knew it was you—it softens, this bitch doesn’t like to be interrupted when she’s reading. But if it’s you? She’ll make an exception.

“Forgot to do your assignment last night, or did laziness hit?” she asked, “can I say both?” you try to pretty blink your way out of that question, she rolled her eyes and place the bookmark in her book and snap it close. Hit you with the head slightly (since she’s reading a thick ass book in a hardbound cover.)

“That tactics doesn’t work on me, you know?” you sulk in defeat and nodded, “can you pleeeaaase give me a break down of chapter three and four?” you plead, sitting down and she follows. She cock a brow, “I’ll buy you books.” You try to bribe her, using her weakness and love for books—you know she couldn’t refuse for free stuff, right?

“deal.” She scoots over and starts to explain every possible detail of the chapter you’re struggling—not only you have a smart friend, you get a free tutor that you could only understand because the one most of your prof recommends are shit at explaining, couldn’t be at the same level of speech and understanding.

But Sarina? She adjust her speech and use examples that you could easily understand than speaking in riddles because she knew you’re that dumb, but you’re her little dumb, dumb.

Time check: 10:30 AM, that’s how fast and long how Sarina break down chapter three and four, you wonder why she hasn’t been taking advance lessons.

20 minutes and you took down notes from what Sarina said, you still have 20 more minutes to turn in your assignments. You look at Sarina with your pretty little eyes, “thank you, bestie.” You form your lips into a pout and hug her, “you are my savior.” You coo and pinch her cheeks gently, she cringe and hit you on the shoulder with her book, “stop doing that. And get to work.” She clicks her tongue and chuckle at you.

“Yes, ma’am!” you salute and stress on your assignment, muttering what Sarina said and looking back at your notes. Your posture is like a shrimp, Sarina wonder how you get so comfortable in that position—she remembers snapping at you because of your posture. You whine at her that day and sulk.

The girl watch you write down your answers, turn pages and look back and forth to your notes. She wonders why you act so differently towards her then you’re a strong fucking women towards other people, as if she had a little puppy—not a friend.

“Done!” you yelled, which got you harshly shush by the librarian, you bow to apologies and aggressive shake Sarina and chanting thank you and that she’s your savior.

“I promise to buy you books, you can get anything you want.” Those words were dangerous, you utter them to a literal book girlie. She’s going to empty your funding’s, so hope for the best.

Minutes later you came back and sat down next to her again, “turn it in?” she asked, “right on time.” You proudly said and lay your head over to her shoulder, clinging to her as if you’re a fucking koala.

“Jesus, you really need a fucking boyfriend. You cling like a lost koala.” Sarina said and try to get you off of her arm, which you wrap your hands around and refuse to let go.

“but I don’t have a boyfriend.” You try to sound sad to piss her off, “because you reject them, darling.” She rolls and gets back on reading. You let out a small boo-ho and still clings to her shoulder.

Prof was absent so you and your friend got some free time on the first period, silence was so loud that you began to get bored. Until she speaks, “by the way, have you seen the news?”

You cock your head, “hm?” you hum, “there’s been reports of women mysteriously disappearing then finding their location to another island.”

Interest sets in and you listens, loosening your grip from her arm, “heck, even the president’s daughter isn’t safe.”

“wait, wait. Hold your horses, even the president’s daughter?”

“Even. The presidents daughter.”

Jaw drop and crossing your legs, “tell me more.”

“apparently they sent their most best and dangerous agent.” Sarina said, giggling to herself and closing the book—oh wow, this motherfucker never closes her books before when she talks. Interesting.

“he got the presidents daughter safe and return home. Like, ack! He’s so dreamy, girl!”

You nod, so—the agent was a male. God you hate men, really. But hid an ick expression.

“his name is Leon Kennedy, by the way.” You see how your friend bit her lip and got back being all giggly to her book.

Leon Kennedy.

You heard the name before, you father said that if these kind of cases continue—he’ll have Leon Kennedy as your bodyguard, that’s right. Leon fucking Kennedy.

You hate how your father sees you as a meek and timid girl who can’t protect yourself, even your step-mom. Saying it’s for the better, my ass, you said in your mind and just zoned out.

Class ended at two sharp, your driver waiting for you as he greeted you with a smile and lifting his hat to add extra respect. You don’t know why father trained them like this but you don’t wanna ask either.

The whole ride, you talk with the driver for the first time—well, he asked you first. Asking how your day went by and setting the atmosphere something light and fun, he felt like a father to you for a moment, he advises like a dad and share his stories. He has a daughter too, he is a dad.

You almost let it slip, “you were the father I wanted.”

But he didn’t heard that and kept making still making bad dad jokes, it was so lame and bad that it made you laugh. You know one thing in mind, that your own father could not do this to you and with you.

Arriving home, several maids and butlers line up at the front door where you enter—greeting you in sync, their voices sounded like AI, “greetings and welcome back, young miss.” They said and you just stood there dumbfounded.

Still not used to this kind of treatment, “uhm, dismiss?” you said quietly, which all of them heard—they bow and left, completely dismissing them. As if they’re a trained slaves, you shudder at the feeling and something catches at the corner of your eyes, father was talking to someone.

Who is he?

He’s tall, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, blue iced eyes. He’s taller than your father, probably 5’11?

“Father.” You said, as much as you hate addressing him father, you just had to. “I’m home.”

“Ah! Lovely.” Father smiled, and gesture you to come closer. “dear, this man will be your bodyguard from now on.”

Huh.

Your mind absent and felt like time freezes, bodyguard?

“My name’s Leon. Leon Kennedy.”

No fucking way.

Next Chapter>>>

[sunnylands-world]

So I’d like to request a Draco mafia fanfic. Where someone disrespects the reader and it angers him.

FINE LINE

Pairing: Mafia draco x fem reader

Summary: Draco is a far man he hears bullshit all day but they cross a fine line when it comes to you...

Word count: 729

Warning: language, offense things are said about females [not by Draco], mentions of blood, use of a gun

Universe: mafia

A/n: okay I was supposed to post this at three in the morning but I fell asleep before I could 😭 anyway hope you like it I loved this idea and I had so much fun with writing it so thank you anon and please SHOW SUPPORT IF YOU READ THIS

Draco was never interested in the conversation that took place during these meetings. He just needed the deal, but occasionally he'd run into these talkative bitches who wanted to drink whiskey and complain about their wife's, hints why he called them talkative bitches. They complain all the time. He couldn't care less. Why were they bitching when they had enough money to stop worldwide hunger? They didn't do shit.

They've just been drinking and buying. He thought it was funny they had so many complaints. They were more women than their wives and they [their wives] did more than them. They cooked, cleaned and had babies. The least they could do was let them spend money on the things that make them happy.

"Yeah, like how do rich and wealthy men attract poor sluts," said one of them. Draco couldn't give a shit about his name he wanted to say it was Oliver but the topic made him snicker as he listened in.

"Okay, I mean, I earn all the money just for them to spend."

Probably 'cause you sit on your ass like a lazy bitch that nobody wants to be around, so she's out there screwing one of the drivers.

"All I'm saying is I make the money, I should be decided who spends it and it damn sure shouldn't be going to fucking diapers and sippy cups."

"Amen to that!"

You should have used a condom, selfish motherfuckers.

"Poor Draco over their quiet as a sleeping baby, your wife got you tied down?" Draco took a look at the bald man, but failed to reply which caused laughter to fill the room.

What the fuck is so funny?

"Don't worry man I get it, I had one just like that whore wife of yours working the pole for money. Had no talents before you right?"

Draco glared, his blue eyes turning dark as he let out a dry laugh.

"What the fuck did you say?" The room fell silent as the question left his lips. All eyes were on him for his mistake.

Draco thought he was a straightforward man. He had two rules, one of which was to make the deal so that everybody would be happy and no one would die, and two, not to disrespect the queen.

When Draco met you, you were a stripper, but you had to pay college tuition and your job at the café didn't cover everything. Of course, when you got together, he paid it all for you. You were studying now peacefully and he was satisfied with you kicking your feet up and working hard for your degree, but sometimes people made the mistake of disrespecting you the way this fat fucker did and he did not take well to people talking about you at all.

Now the guy wasn't stupid. He knew once the room went quiet, he made a mistake. Draco's hand was placed on his weapon and an inhuman glance was on his face. Everything was intended to be simple. Come to the casino, make the exchange and leave, but he couldn't let that pass, because you weren't a whore at a club. You were the queen to the biggest Mafia leader.

"Come on, man, you're not seriously upset about some bitch." he laughs, swallowing his fear.

Bitch?

"Look, I'm sure she would understand that it's all a joke. I didn't mean any harm, it's just the truth after all."

Sure, you might but Draco didn't find it amusing and you weren't here right now. Draco stood to his feet from the leather couch, aiming the gun at the prick resting into the chair, his eyes wide in fear as he realized what's to come. The gun fires. The loud noise with the muzzle flash sending a fire colored hue through the room as one bullet is shot through his head and the other in his nuts.

The blood splattered on his face like paint flickered on a canvas, Draco's jaw clenched as he pulled the trigger. He took the gun placing it on a red napkin before he wiped it clean putting it back.

"Get rid of this pig and get my fucking money." he says, walking from the private room and heading home to you.

If you didn't get it from what just happened, you don't mess with the queen. That's a warning.

@alexxavicry, @sarahthehuffpuff, @supercoffeeblogs, @thatwattpadobsessed, @amyclare04, @kyracanwrite, @animeloverfreak310, @imafangirl22, @phildunphyisadilf, @jac1ndaa

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 13

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“They have a sex tape.”

“They have what?”

“A sex tape” Mason repeated.

“Yours?”

“Obviously” he laughed.

“I’m sorry, I… I… How? When?” Adele asked.

“Why don’t we sit down and I explain everything?”

“Yes, sure.”

“Ok” Mason said, taking a deep breath. “Where should I begin?”

“From the beginning?” she chuckled.

“Yes, of course. It was… it happened during my 21st birthday. I don’t know if you remember, but I was working in the US. I had spent some time in New York, and for my birthday I was in Los Angeles.”

“Oh, I do. I remember seeing all the photos on Instagram while laying on my couch feeling like shit because of a cold. You sent me chocolate macaroons to make me feel better.”

“I wish I had been taking care of you and eating them instead of… Anyway” he sighed. “My friends threw a big party to celebrate because 21 is a big number in the US since you are finally allowed to legally drink and all that, and they invited many people, most of them girls. By the end of the night I was very drunk, and I’m pretty sure I had hooked up with a few girls already. But then, I saw her. She was stunning, and when she came to talk to me, I just couldn’t say no. She was… hypnotizing. Hypnotizing and a bitch” Mason chuckled. “Instead of going to one of the rooms of the house where we were throwing the party, she took me to her hotel room. I think she said she was visiting from Florida, I can’t remember. And then… well, you can imagine what we did. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. She had only left a note behind saying that I should pay for her room before leaving if I didn't want to get in trouble.”

“Oh, how nice.”

“Yeah… A couple of weeks later, my agency called me. Someone was trying to sell some compromising photos from my birthday. They were just me being very drunk, nothing that you hadn’t seen before, but I had just gotten my first big contract, was starting to make a name for myself and being recognized because of me and not because I was Toni Mount’s son, and they didn’t want them to jeopardize everything we had been working so hard for.”

“Look at them being nice for once…” Adele said. “How did they get the video?”

“Whoever was trying to sell the photos wasn’t happy that we had managed to stop them, so they tried with something more juicy. My agency had to ask for many favours and pay a good amount of money to stop the press from publishing it.”

“That juicy is it? Wait, sorry, I…” Adele said, feeling her cheeks burning.

“You can see me completely naked while she gives me… and then she…”

“I can imagine, there is no need to get into details” she interrupted him, her face about to burst into flames. “So your agency paid for the video?”

“Yes.”

“Do they know who was trying to sell it? Was it her?”

“It was her, that bitch had planned it all. Somehow she had found out that there would be famous people at the party and went looking for a victim who would allow her to earn some easy money and maybe become famous. When she took me to the hotel, the camera was already there, ready to film everything we were about to do. I was so stupid…”

“Mason, it wasn’t your fault. How could you have known it was all a trap? Besides, you were drunk. You are lucky you remember all the details you do.”

“I know but… Anyway. That’s what my agency has against me. They say I owe them. Big time. And if I don’t do as they ask, they will release that video and the photos and end my career.”

“That’s blackmail, Mason. You could report that to the police.”

“And the moment they find out, they will release the video and everything will be over” he sighed, letting himself fall on the bed. 

“You don’t know that, Mase. People these days are very aware of what a video like that means. It is a violation of your intimacy. I’m sure your fans would do everything in their power so it doesn’t get shared everywhere, it has happened before. You are so lucky you are a man…”

“But what about the brands I work with? About the designers? What will they think?”

“If a sex tape makes them stop working with you when they keep doing it with people who have done worse, it probably is for the best” Adele shrugged.

“And you? What about you?” Mason asked, sitting up again. 

“What about me?”

“What do you think about me?”

“Can I be completely honest?”

“Please” he said.

“I think you are an idiot.”

“What?”

“Not because of the video. Again, that isn’t your fault, you are the victim here. Double victim if we add what your agency is doing. You are an idiot because you thought I would look at you differently or stop caring about you because of it.”

“But Addie… It’s a sex tape.”

“And?” she laughed. 

“Aren't you like… shocked? Scandalized? Outraged?"

"The only thing I am is angry at that bitch and at your agency. She used you and filmed you without your consent, and they are blackmailing you."

"So if I had known she was filming and had agreed to it… you would not mind?"

“Can I confess something?” Adele said, biting her lower lip.

“It can’t be worse than what I just confessed” he chuckled.

“Remember Ben, my last ex?”

“I do. Why?”

“Well… We liked to take photos or film ourselves from time to time to spice things up.”

“Adele Antonia Turlington!” Mason laughed. 

“You can’t tell anyone. Anyone, you hear me?”

“I won’t, I won’t. But wow. I didn’t expect that from you” he chuckled.

“I’m full of surprises“ she smiled, still not believing she had confessed something like that to Mason. “And here is another one… I will walk that red carpet with you.”

“Wait, what? Are you sure?”

“No, not really. But until we find a way to get rid of your agency, I’m gonna do everything in my power to help you and protect you. And if that means posing in front of a bunch of photographers, then so be it.”

“Addie, I… I don’t know what to say.”

“A thank you will be enough for now.”

“Ok, thank you” he smiled. And this time, it was one of his smiles, one of those that was all dimples. “I love you, Addie.”

“I love you too, Mase” she said as she hugged him, trying not to think too much about the three words they had just said to each other.

[rxverriess]

God, I'm not your strongest soldier

୨୧‥∵‥‥∵‥‥∵ ‥‥ 🐈‍⬛ ‥‥∵‥‥∵‥‥∵‥୨୧

Summary: Running away from the past is already challenging, and now the girl I never thought would acknowledge me has something against me and wants me to work for her. It could have been worse, but at least I'll get paid... but at what cost? Let's see how working for Aeri will turn out for the better or the worse. Hell, maybe even both. Pairing: Aeri (Giselle) x Fem! Reader Featuring: Yeonjun (TXT) and Woo Young (Ateez) Warning: Brief self-harm mention, Blackmail, Cursing A/N: Hello everyone :3!!! I finally finished writing and making this story and currently working on the next chapter (if this story turns out well ^^; ) thank you very much for your patience and I hope you enjoy this upcoming series. I was very inspired by @rosemaeridream story "Hate is no better than Love" (which I very much recommend and send love to the author) This is my first ever time writing fanfic, and would love to receive some feedback and criticism would be nice to make the storyline more smoother and enjoyable to read :D. Thank you again and hope you like this! Credits: dividers by @dollywons

I have always struggled to find a career path since I was young. Nothing has interested me, no matter how hard I try. I have hobbies, don't get me wrong but I never really saw them as career paths, even if I did my passion would be shut down by my parents saying “That's not a career (Y/N) that's just a little hobby, you should be earning money from it.” But what if I did see them as a career? Imagine opening my gallery, selling my artwork, and making a name for myself in the art world. 

 But as if right now I’m sitting in my finance lecture trying my best not to have a complete mental breakdown. Seriously, why did I sign up for this? I'd honestly rather marry an eighty-year-old dude who's guaranteed to cheat on me with younger women than endure this professor’s constant coffee slurping and forgetfulness. And wouldn't you know it, my earbuds decided to die on me. As I glanced around the room, I couldn’t help but observe my classmates – someone was playing Papa's Freezeria, a diligent note-taker, and Aeri who made eye contact with me... Wait what. I must be seeing things because I couldn’t possibly get her attention on me, like what did I do? She looked up and down at me then turned around and went back talking to her friends. Weird. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about how Aeri. Uchinaga Aeri made eye contact with me? Aeri was a very….interesting person the nicest way I could describe her. She was very cocky, arrogant, and from what I heard also toxic. She leads on girls thinking they could have a chance with her, only to find out she just wanted to get something out of them and then break their hearts in the cruelest way possible or how boys fond over her to the point that they carve her name on their thigh or even worse commit suicide. It's no wonder she's got such a big ego. I mean, who wouldn't, with all the boys and girls falling over themselves to impress her, copy her, and just generally bask in her glory? She's practically a campus legend. And let's not forget her family's "old money" background – her great-great-great grandfather's company has been keeping her in the lap of luxury for generations.

But why was she staring at me? I never really cross paths with her unless it’s some snarky comments about my presentation whenever I present or how I was always not paying attention in class

“And that’s it for today's class, please make sure to submit your spreadsheet project by the end of the day which is due at midnight, and don't you dare email me over the weekend saying you lost progress on it or experiencing technical issues while submitting it. Have a good day” as the professor leaves the classroom. “Well shit,” I thought I haven't even touched the project yet here I was daydreaming about Aeri the entire class period. 

No. No, I wasn’t. I was just caught off guard that's all, I would never think about her like that. She barely even knows I exist and it's going to stay like that.

It was now 9:00 PM, and I found myself in the library, attempting to break free from procrastination. Even glancing at the graph is causing me a headache. I took another sip of my third energy drink can and attempted to input the numbers from the graph when my computer suddenly slammed shut, nearly crushing my fingers.

“What the hell? What is your prob-” My mouth stopped as soon as I saw the person who was standing in front of me. Aeri.

“Um hi A-” 

 “You’re (Y/n) (L/n)?” she said cutting me off mid-sentence

“Yeah? I’m in your finance class…” I looked up at her, catching me by surprise at how she knew my name.

"I have a proposition for you," she said. "I'm looking for a photographer to take my modeling photos. And I stumbled upon your page and I have to say, your pictures are... decent."

 She didn't even bother to make eye contact with me while speaking to me. It seemed like it was a struggle for her to compliment my work.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Well, Aeri, I'd love to work for you, but only if money is involved," I replied with a straight face. "Wow, aren't you greedy?" she scoffed in amazement that I had the nerve to ask for payment. "You get to work for me and all you care about is how much I'll pay you?"

 “My time and work aren't for free and even if I were with the most famous person I would still charge them, I have a student debt to pay off not to mention my rent. And besides you come from a wealthy family how come you can’t find a professional photographer to take your pictures?”

“It's just” She pauses for a moment as if she is going to say something she shouldn't say “My family can’t know about this and that is all I’m going to say to you because it's none of your business” she smiled at me as she said that almost feeling like I was being threatened 

"Even if I had a private photographer, there's a good chance they would try to expose me to get more money from my family," she said, almost mumbling that last part. She got up from her chair and came over to my side. As if the atmosphere just changed out of nowhere, why am I so tense? It's like the Grim Reaper is about to take my life away from me any second now. As she leaned on the edge of the table, making eye contact with me, she continued, "Besides you really can’t say no to me either way”

“What can you have that I can’t say-”

 Then the room went silent when she pulled up a video. The video I’ve tried to run away from. The video I tried to avoid. The video that Aeri is holding that ruined my life in high school to the point I moved states away from home when I was applying to college. 

Was it expensive to the point my parents wouldn’t financially support me? Yes. All because of a video. Pretty much. But yet here I am seeing how Aeri using this video against me. I just wanted to run away from it like how I’ve been doing for the longest time.

“Aeri,” I said with a stern voice, not trying to get my anxiety the best of me “Where the hell did you get that video from”

“Oh this” she held her phone up and smiled at me “I have some connections but that’s not important right now because now I have you in a position where you really can’t say no to me” She had a huge grin on her face that I just wanted to slap it off. 

Red. I saw red at that moment. Why? Just why? Why is this happening to me now? Who the hell does she think she is? I thought I could simply just run away from it and be done with it but I guess not. I just wanted to leave and run far away from this world but felt stuck in my mind and couldn't even leave the chair as if someone put glue on it. When I looked up from Aeri, she was standing there, looking down on me like I was prey to her.

“Fine” is all I could say to her, not after the stunt she pulled out on me. I felt tired from that moment and all I wanted to do was just go to my apartment, lay in bed, and never wake up but unfortunately, not everyone can have that.

"Glad we agreed then," she said as she grabbed her stuff. Before she turned to leave, she added, "Oh, and one more thing” She handed me a sticky note with her number on it. "Text me if you have any questions or something, but don't text me too much. Otherwise, we'll only communicate by email, okay? Bye," she said then walked out of the library as if she hadn't just blackmailed me.

Fucking great just great (y/n) now look at what you got yourself into now. Not only you're going to be working for her and she has shit on you as well. Wow, I got the best of both worlds, didn't I? 

The train ride was very silent on my way to my apartment, my leg kept bouncing up and down as I stared out the window with headphones on that I always kept a spare but even so the music couldn’t even calm my thoughts down.

ding

The announcement came on telling passengers of the next stop and to be ready to depart. I grabbed my stuff and stood in front of the door. I kept looking at myself in my reflection. And all I saw was a sixteen-year-old me looking distraught and disappointed. If only I could've hugged her and told her everything would be alright. But even she knows I'm lying to myself.

As I finally arrived at my apartment door where I already heard two of my roommates being very loud and obnoxious (as usual). I opened the door where I saw Woo Young and Yeonjun playing video games and being extremely competitive with each other in the living room.

As I step inside, I drop my keys in the bowl and slip off my shoes, tucking them away in the cubby before slipping into my house slippers. 

"Guys, don't start roughhousing because I don't want to spend a month without a TV like last time," I yelled as I was in the kitchen trying to find something to eat, even though I had lost my appetite after that whole day. I simply grabbed a yogurt and headed to the living room to grab my bag.

“Jeez you look like shit” claimed Woo-young as he kept looking at me and then back at the screen. “Thanks” I replied as I was walking towards my room.

“Hard day in class?” yeonjun asked without taking his eyes off the TV, getting more aggressive with the controller 

“Trust me that wasn’t even half of what happened today but I would appreciate it if you guys keep it down please I just want to sleep and hope this entire day was just a dream,” I said, knowing I got weird looks from them but turned down the volume a bit.

As I finally changed into my pajamas, I settled into bed and stared at the ceiling, recapturing what the fuck just happened today. I was simply minding my own business finishing my project, which I didn’t even get to finish but at this point why does it matter I just got blackmailed by the most popular girl on this campus, and worse I have to fucking work for her now. Memories of our brief encounter at the library began flashing through my mind.

My mind lingers to slumber as I try to hide away from these bad thoughts and sleep where I'm not running away from everyone and everything. 

I promised her that.

[milayawr]

Stolen Pieces (Part Two)

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Part One

Summary: Sturmhond gives you your first mission and you find something that catches his interest.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,914

Notes: Feedback is always welcomed, lovelies! And I think this will turn into a series, but I'm not sure how long it will be. Sorry if there are any mistakes.

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You were off your mother's debts. It felt like a fever dream or some incredibly perfect written fairytale, but on the contrary, it was very real. First, you thought it would all be gone when you woke up and you'd be living your miserable life but you were assured when you actually woke up to the real world.

This morning you woke up with the sounds of waves crashing on the ship of Sturmhond, Volkvolny. So that was the moment you finally understood that they all really happened, and you were all right, except for the fact that the owner of the ship wanted you to work for him. You didn't know what you were going to do. You asked the Shu girl, Tamar, but she had said that only Sturmhond knew his plans and thoughts. He was a complicated man, and you already knew you would have a hard time with him.

So here you were in his quarters, waiting for him to do something besides observing you. You were preferably waiting for a good speech. He only hummed to himself, and it made you crazy. This man was an unbearable piece of shit that had helped you. You were grateful and all but… Did he really have to be this annoying all the time?

"Am I gonna have to wait for you to say something?" You said when you lost all the little drops of your patience. He stopped humming and looked at you in the eyes. "I can go if you'll keep looking at me like some— Anyways, just talk." You stopped yourself from saying any inappropriate word to him because that would probably cost you to lose a job before earning it.

"Like what, Sweet Y/N?" He asked softly, curiosity living in his voice as he spoke.

You didn't want to say anything but since he asked you just answered. "A pervert."

He frowned as the word left your mouth. "I think I have more honor than a pervert, but that's all right." He left the desk that he'd been leaning on and came closer to you. Every step of his made your heart beat wilder— you could even hear it in your ears. "I was thinking about the job I was going to give you. Asking myself if you could handle it, but I think you can handle it very well."

"I think you should have thought this the night we met." You said and he laughed. His laugh felt like rays of sun after a rainy day, and you could see a rainbow over there when you tried to picture it in your mind. It was a beautiful sound to hear.

"Okay then," He took a deep breath. "I want you to be my spy." You looked at him with a confused face. "What? Everyone has them these days, so why can't I?"

"I never said that you couldn't. I just don't understand why me. You really see a spy in me?" He was just a delusional stupid pirate. Did he really claim he saw a spy in you? He was definitely wrong.

"Well, you stole my money while most of my crew was on the ship, didn't you? Also, you stole many people's money and never got caught. So, yes, Milaya, I saw a spy in you. Maybe not the best, but still, you can be a good choice."

You didn't know what you should give a reaction to, the way he really wanted you to work as his spy or the fact that he called you sweet girl?

You talked when you made a decision, "I was a thief, not a spy."

"Semantics."

"How come?"

"Well, you see, a thief steals money and a spy steals information. Same thing, different handwritings." He smiled to himself as your expression changed into something more relaxed. He was kinda right, you thought. "Look, I hate to do this, but I paid your debts, and you will be twenty without any money to pay to a red-haired bastard. You owe me this position."

He was right again. You owed him and saints you didn't know what to do because being someone's spy scared you in a way you've never felt. It was a tough job to handle, and you were experienceless.

"I'm not sure about being a spy. Don't you have another job for me?" You started to pout as he shook his head. "Then maybe I— I can go?"

"You don't want that. It will cost you another debt. I don't want to force you, but this is not how you negotiate."

You hated him for being right, and you hated yourself for being stupid and asking stupid questions. Just accept it, a sound inside of you said.

You took a deep breath and answered, "Okay, I can be your spy, I guess." He clapped his hands once, and before he had a chance to speak, you opened your mouth to speak again, "But only if I can decide what I am going to do. I won't go on any mission that will probably kill me. That would be foolish for both of us."

Sturmhond looked rather excited by your decision. "You think I would do that to my one and only spy?" He took your hand and give it a small kiss. "We will be a great team Y/N dear." Then he went to his desk and handed you a paper. "This is the guy who promised me some kruge, but I think he's trying to scam me. I want you to go to his place and take some information. Such as his possessions, family, and secret lovers— if there are any. It's very easy."

You read the name of the guy— Jurren Clasen said Sturmhonds perfect handwriting. You've heard him before, you knew he was rich but you also knew not as Pekka Rollins. Maybe there was a moment you had to steal his money, but you could not recall.

"Are you going to threaten him with the information I'll give you?"

"What would you do if I said yes?" He huffed when you gave him a frown. "I'm not gonna threaten him, I am just trying to understand if he ran out of money or just dumped me."

You released a deep breath. "Fine, I'll go tonight?"

He nodded, "Tonight's fine."

"Okay."

"Okay." He mimicked your word as you shoved the paper into your pocket. You didn't say any other word as you head for the door. "Any information that will give his financial situation will do, Milaya."

Again, sweet girl. You rolled your eyes as your heart reacted to the stupid word. "Understood." You said before you left.

You decided to read the note again. There was only his name and address. There were some rumors about Jurren Clasen and Jan Van Eck, the people had claimed that they started to work together in some way. You knew that Jurren was not powerful to be in the Merchant Council, so you thought maybe Jan Van Eck was only using him— If the rumors were true, of course.

You went to the quarters that you shared with Tamar since you had nothing to do, and you didn't know anyone in the crew. You had no one to talk to or spend time with. You just had yourself as always. You knew that you were all alone since your mother died, but it wasn't a problem. People always get used to loneliness until they get sick of it. You weren't sick of it yet, but you were afraid of the day that you will.

It made your stomach turn. The idea of losing the will to live scared you. You had to find a branch to hold on to and erase the thought of a rope to hang yourself to. The will of living was in there, you just had to dive in and rise it to the surface.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was deadly dark. It reminded you of the night you met Sturmond. It was practically yesterday, but it felt like it was ages ago.

You found your way as you tried to trust the dark. The outside was cold and it made you shiver. No one was awake as you expected. You only hoped that he was not in his study room.

You felt like a ghost who hides beneath the shadows as you climbed and reached the window of Jurren's study room. Carefully you looked inside, feeling relieved when you saw no one. You opened the window with the little knife you had. You and the knife had a special bond because it was with you the whole time you've been a thief. It was sad that you only trusted the unanimated things.

The moment you were inside the mansion, the time stopped. As quiet as a mouse you started to look for something that would work. He had said any information, so everything was what you were looking for. Just find anything and go.

Quietly you searched inside the drawers. You tried to read every piece of paperwork and his notes. After checking all the documents that you could find you turned your eyes to the desk. You looked into the notebook that lay there. It had plans and arrangements for his works. That should do, you thought. You opened it without giving any harm and started to read it. You understood every word except for one— Jurda Parem. You had no idea what it was but it sounded strange to you. So you noted it on the paper that you brought with you. You would probably forget the word if you didn't.

When you heard voices you hurried up and left everything in their places. You, fortunately, had time to go outside before they got into the study room and unfortunately, you could not see who they were.

The next stop was Volkvolny. You never looked back while you ran. You slowed yourself when you reached the harbor where the ship waited for you. Your breath got stuck in your lung because of the run and you needed air more than anything. The thought of it would've been funny in another moment.

"You're back! Fantastic." You heard his voice when you stepped on the deck. "What did you find out?" You needed to catch your breath so you didn't say anything and gave him the paper. "Jurda Parem? This sounds interesting."

"You know what that is?" You asked.

"Not exactly, but now I will have to do my homework." He checked you for a moment. "Anything else?"

You gave a brief moment to think about everything you've seen. "He has a wife but no children, but I guess you already know that. I don't think he has a secret lover because his diary is full of his wife. He has another house near the University District and his bank is full of kruge according to the documents in his drawers."

"So he did not suddenly become poor. Why does everyone think that I am a fool?" He muttered to himself and you couldn't help but reply,

"Maybe because they think stealing and saying aarg is the only thing that pirates do?"

His expression changed into a frown. "I am a privateer, Milaya. Please don't make me repeat myself."

"Good night, pirate."

You heard him laugh as you walked away. His laugh was indeed beautiful to the ears which listened.

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[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day seventeen

@ailesswhumptober 17 — abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?” ↳ lower manhattan, january 1897 word count; 1.4k

sequel to day thirteen, but can be read alone

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Oscar never, not once, imagined leaving the Refuge without Morris. Even in his darkest moments, the times he'd near wanted Morris dead, it hadn't been like this. It seemed unthinkable, a level of cruelty he would never, ever sink to, to leave his brother behind in Hell and march out of there alone.

But here he is.

He hadn't wanted to. Desperately, he hadn't wanted to. But he'd turned eighteen and couldn't stay, and an uncle he hadn't seen since early childhood had come to take him, and so he'd had to.

He hadn't even said goodbye, he'd realised. That night, in fact, it had struck him harder than any hit from Snyder ever had. He'd lay down for the first time in years in a real bed, a blanket over him, all of the mattress just for him — and he'd realised. That, not only had he ababdoned his little brother, he hadn't said goodbye to him. Hadn't said a word.

He'd cried that night. Hadn't slept a wink. And, before dawn, Wiesel had come to hammer on the door. Said it was time for work.

He's been making Wiesel's life hell ever since.

He's been given a place to sleep, and a job on top of that — working with his uncle at a distribution yard for one of the newspapers — but he's been ripped from his baby brother and the only way of life he's known since childhood. Ever known, really. And it's had some effect on him. He keeps showing off habits from the Refuge — asking permission before doing anything, not making eye contact, keeping the places in the house he dare occupy meticulously clean — and, when mocked, he can only default to habits from his father instead. He can tell he unsettles Wiesel on some level, like the man has no real idea of what to do with him or how to interact with him, and he'd also been on guard from the first minute for the other shoe to drop. For Wiesel to hit him. His father's brother.

Really, he'd only been helping the process along.

Work at the distribution yard is miserable, but perhaps Oscar's hatred of the newsies is influenced by the companionship amongst them all, the way they exist both as a united mass and as sects amongst themselves, little gangs and duos of siblings and friends. Either way, he hates them. And the pay is shit. The hours are worse.

He'd asked Wiesel across the dinner table, after his first day of work, how much Morris' bail is — and Wiesel had answered without really looking at him, still scrawling in his notebook about sales and profits.

"Fifteen dollars."

"An' how long's it gonna take me," Oscar had asked then.

"For what?"

"To make fifteen dollars."

Wiesel had laughed at him.

He'd told him to use his money for better things — to buy himself some clothes, buy himself some whiskey. Buy himself a pair of new boots if he wanted something to save up for.

That was the night he'd finally earned that first hit, when he'd told his uncle to go fuck himself.

It takes him two months.

He works all day, every day, and offers himself up for whatever extra work Wiesel has going — even accepts it the first time Wiesel, somewhat hesitantly, asks him how he feels about beating up a guy that deserves it. Oscar goes. Whatever he can get, doesn't ask questions, does whatever he has to to get him anywhere closer to his goal. It's hard, and arguably harder to keep track of all the goddamn coins — he's never had to deal with money before, and he's shit at counting, but he has nothing to do in his sleepless downtime than try. So he counts, again and again, every day, until he's sure of the numbers.

And then he gets there.

Fifteen dollars, and he tells Wiesel the very moment he's counted it up and it's enough — and then counted again, to make sure — that he's going.

Wiesel waves him off absently, not caring.

Snyder greets him at the Refuge doors with the coldest look Oscar has ever seen on his face.

"Here to pick Mo up," Oscar tells him, heart pounding in his chest. He fishes the envelope out of his pocket — a jacket Wiesel had given him, several sizes too small — and holds it out to Snyder. "I. I got the money."

"Do you," Snyder says, and takes the envelope. "You're aware your brother's bail was fifteen dollars. Not fifteen cents?"

"Yeah." It's spat. Oscar had almost forgotten how much he hated Snyder, but it's so different, talking to him now. An utter shift in the power dynamic. They're both adults, both free men — men with jobs — with only a few years between them.

"Count it," Oscar tells him.

Snyder is clearly utterly reluctant. He seems reluctant to have Oscar here at all, but he meanders without hurry to sit behind his desk, and tears open the envelope with the sharp golden letter opener that Oscar knows all too well.

Snyder counts. And eventually falters, the subtle movements of his lips with each muttered number dwindling to his lips just being parted, the rage of shock, as if Oscar actually having the money — all of it — was an impossibility.

Oscar can't help but grin. Feels dazed with it, dizzy. A sort of euphoria — a victory, a victory over his uncle and over this man who had made his life hell for years. And it'll all be okay now. He can pick Morris up and take him home, and it'll all be better. He's fixed it.

He stays stood where he is, back straight, playing the part of a man now, in Snyder's office. Waits as his brother is fetched.

He's expecting a reunion. Expecting Morris to run into his arms grinning.

Instead, Morris freezes in the doorway.

"What're you doin' here," is the first thing he says.

He sure doesn't sound happy.

"I—I paid your bail," Oscar tells him, still smiling despite the growing sense of anxiety at the way Morris is looking at him. "I saved up, I—"

"You left me here."

And Oscar freezes too, smile disappearing in an instant. Morris isn't…wrong, but that's not how it was, it wasn't a choice Oscar made. He didn't abandon his brother.

"I. I turned eighteen, Mo. I—They took me away—"

"You went." Morris is staring at him with a coldness he's never before seen from his little brother, a coldness he didn't quite believe Morris was capable of. Not directed at him, at least. "You—you didn' even say goodbye. You jus' left me here, an' it's been months an' you ain't visited—"

"I been workin', Mo! Every day, I ain't had time—"

"You left me here!"

It feels deafeningly silent then. Oscar's throat is tight, stomach churning, and though it's his instinct to shout back, he can't find the words. Isn't sure they'd come out anyway.

"You—you jus' left me here, you left, an' you didn't say goodbye, didn't say anythin', an' I been alone, 'cept for—" Morris swallows hard, eyes shining. They seem more sunken than Oscar remembers, the bruises of exhaustion beneath them seem darker. Morris looks sicker. "Why did I even think you cared?"

"Wh—'Cause I do, 'course I do, you're all I fuckin' care about—"

"You aren't obligated to leave with him, Morris."

Oscar feels his stomach hit the floor. All at once realises that Morris isn't free, not like Oscar is, and Snyder could so easily refuse the money and keep him. Pocket the money and keep him anyway.

Oscar grabs him.

"Let me go!" Morris shouts immediately, trying to wrench out of the grip, but Oscar only holds him tighter — and runs, dragging his brother along behind him.

Snyder lets them go. Could stop them — have them stopped — easily. But he watches them instead, and holds up a hand to pause the guard that had jerked for them. He's satisfied with the sown seeds of discord between the brothers who have never been anything but codependent. Satisfied with all the time he's gotten to spend with Morris in Oscar's absense.

He's sure the game isn't over yet. In fact, maybe it's just begun.

[msfbgraves]

I recall you mentioned once that as he gets older, Daniel thinks more about the plight of his people (omegas), and their rights. Terry of course seems to think that omegas proper place is at home with their Alpha and pups, he’s very traditional head-of-the-household like that. And quite frankly, Daniel seems very content as a homemaker, and excellent in that role. His kids and mate adore him! 

That also seems very natural, because even in CK, he’s so nurturing, affectionate, and caring; Amanda seems to run the car business more than he does, and he doesn’t seem particularly ambitious—though he can be cunning and shrewd when he’s not busy being hot-headed and clueless lol. He also seems very happy at home, and tends to his children’s emotional needs rather more than Amanda (who by most accounts, is a female Terry). I think even in canon Daniel would like to, and would make, a great househusband. 

Back to Mobland though, while Daniel doesn’t come across as wanting to have a paying job, and didn’t care for school (again, KK/CK canon!)��does he want the same for his omega children, or want something different for them? His Alphas will go on to have jobs and careers and have paying jobs, his Beta boy Robby will as well. But Anthony and Luna…? And the two youngest, whatever they will be. 

I wonder if there will be some sort of omega-rights movement, like the feminism movements of the 60s, or the Suffrage movement of the 1900s in the States. I wonder if Daniel would take part in that—I’ve a feeling Terry would strongly dislike it if he did so. (Again: traditional.)

It’s hard to say, because omegas in general naturally seem to like to cater to their family and be homemakers and have their Alphas/betas take charge for the most part—after all, they fulfill the stereotypical role of “happy wife happy life, a woman’s place is at home” role. Maybe some want to earn money or have to, but by nature, do most actually want to go out and earn a living? 

“Weirdos” like Amanda are exceptions, while omegas like Anoush and Apollonia are played straight. Daniel seems to fit in rather better with the latter two, especially when he’s ever so soft and lovely and radiant with his first six puppies, vs. being like Amanda who is an Alpha in everything except gender (and someone I see as being Alpha-coded in CK). And then there’s Johnny who looks like an Alpha, but here is an omega (something I personally find odd, but it’s just because I always see Johnny as 100% Alpha), and Betsy who (again, to me) is so omega coded in canon due to her sweet and gentle nature (especially in contrast to someone like Kreese who is always 100% Alpha) but is a beta in Mob! 

I always go back and forth in Omegaverse: is it something ingrained in their natures, is it something dictated by society, or is it a mixture of both? Such an interesting world. So many questions. 

I think women invented Omegaverse to grapple with these questions. What is nature? What is nurture? Am I acting like this because I want to, or because society makes me? I feel I have been strongly judged for acting unfeminine at work, which means not taking it lying down when being expected to do more work for less pay and making people,mostly men, comfortable - not by refusing to do it, but simply by pointing out that was going on, to the discomfort of everyone around me, because I was naturally supposed to want the taking minutes and getting coffee and cleaning up after and agreeing with men who were demonstrably wrong. Was I unfeminine for that? But if women naturally like doing shit jobs why would they complain about it to other women? And yet - some people really seem to be suited to certain tasks and behaviours...

Johnny isn't Alpha to me because all that manly stuff doesn't come naturally to him. He's always pontificating about it. His aggressive response to Daniel doesn't seem proportionate, either. And when he relaxes, his love language is acts of service, specifically making things - baby proofing his apartment, Miguel's physical therapy, building things. Feels to me like someone masking - and who better to mask than an omega who doesn't want to be, as he feels it, trapped?

And Daniel, I'd want him to live that nurturing side without constantly getting flack for it. Because indeed: he doesn't seem to be particularly ambitious, even when it comes to running a business. First I thought, going by young Daniel, that this may be his path, given how enthusiastic he was starting Little Trees. But when you see him in LaRusso Auto, he really is not very committed. The one thing that seems to excite him about it is sales, and then only to not have to go into work! Daniel, you slacker! That is no way to run any business. Amanda is right that she's been doing it all herself. And I'm sure she knew that beforehand, and used Daniel as a strawman. And it works because she needs him for that and he does know his business and does what she says 100% of the time but it was him taking care of Sam and Anthony and only coming in to be the spokesperson on business deals.

So I let him have his home. As an omega, nobody would force him. Even here the problem is sometimes that he does less Mob work than he has the brains for. Terry really has to push him sometimes.

What would he want for his children? A sense of safety and choice. Anthony even in canon probably wouldn't want to hold a job! Lazy sod, he'll totally set up a pyramid scheme or ransom existing ones. Anthony will do well as a socialite with mob ties. And Luna with her sweet bleeding heart; she will want to go into activism and social work and then break down from the pain she encounters. They're very worried Terry and Daniel, about keeping her secure. Anthony wouldn't want a job, but anything other than hostess work or some kind of daycare would probably break Luna. She's very creative though, and given a safe bubble could make beautiful things. There's more omegas like Luna, but there's also those who could go out and live happy independent lives. Daniel could, but he wouldn't like to. I think generally omegas like to contribute, but taking complete care of themselves would feel like a huge burden. And that's fine if the world did function the way Terry thinks it should, namely with all omegas well protected. But Terry knows from very personal experience - all those kitties whose heat he took - that this is not the case. It's partly why he supports Daniel's outreach groups. If there were an omega movement (set up partly by Alphas and betas no doubt), that would not fly with him, no. Daniel would be very hesitant to get involved officially but he would not object to the rethoric. It would have to be very hush hush as the Church would oppose it (they're very strongly about "An omega's place is with their Alpha", as if other pairings don't exist!). I think, strangely enough, that Anthony might become very involved as soon as he is away from under his Daddy's thumb - no way he is marrying an Alpha that stops him doing what he wants to do. Daniel's groups could function as a gateway: "You didn't hear this from me, but there's people you can talk to in Midtown." Still Daniel wouldn't seek it out, partly because he's comfortable.

As for betas feeling like omegas: roughly there's 40% betas, 40% Alphas and 20% omegas. Omegas nearly all pair off with Alphas initially, so the other 20% would look for omegan traits. John wouldn't have fallen for Lisa LaRusso or Lucille, but Betsy? Sure. Some Alphas don't even try going for omegas, though, as they need partners in business. Some are not into omegas, feeling that they're too sheltered. If they're very rich they may end up with one and take beta lovers. But of course there are beta women who want to marry Alphas and especially in poorer communities, the Alpha may prefer that as well. Omegas nearly always marry out of poverty, but betas rarely do. But those betas going for an Alpha will want to be as soft as possible.

Beta couples are often the most lively, as they pair off based on personality the most.

[pagesofangels]

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

That's a bit difficult to say, as I feel like I've never been successful enough in fanfic or writing in general (y e t) to warrant giving advice.

I started writing fanfic around age 11 or 12, and if someone of that age came up to me and asked for advice about fanfic writing, I think I would tell them this:

1.) Listen to constructive criticism!

Holy shit, I cannot say this enough. If you're going to improve as a writer, you MUST listen to feedback.

I understand critique hurts. It's embarrassing, even if the person giving you feedback is saying it in the nicest way in the world.

As a reader, I'm rather blunt in things I think need improvement -- and as a fanfic reader there have been times in the past I was too blunt -- but I've never commented with the intention to harm. I have always given *requested* feedback with the intention of giving the writer tools to work with.

There have been times in fandom where an author explicitly requested constructive feedback from me, but their idea of 'concrit' was praise and praise only. You cannot invite constructive feedback and only expect praise.

But, also:

2.) You don't need to listen to ALL criticism!

Yep, going against what I just said, it is up to YOU as the AUTHOR to choose what goes into your story. Just because someone says they think something in your story should be changed or removed, you do NOT need to do it.

But, also ALSO:

3.) For the love of God, DO NOT fight your critics!

This goes quadruple for younger writers. No matter what anyone says about your story, do NOT fight them! Fighting a critic is the one thing that can and WILL ruin a writer's reputation. Even published authors who make money on their books have done this and lost the respect of a large swath of potential customers.

Never argue why their opinion is wrong.

Never say "x many people like this so you're invalid".

Never sic any of your fans or friends after them.

As my writing professor told us during workshops: When you are receiving feedback on your writing, you sit down and you shut up.

Why not fight them? Because:

A.) If they're a troll, you're giving them the reaction they want by getting upset.

B.) If they're trying to help you by giving constructive feedback, you just spat in their face and wasted their time and effort (especially if you asked them for feedback).

C.) If they paid money to read your work (use your Patreon, bought the book, backed it on Kickstarter, etc.) they can be as big of an ass as they want in their feedback because they already gave you their money. They don't owe you praise after paying hard-earned cash, because if they end up not enjoying it that money is essentially wasted. But remember, you don't even need to read these because the book is already completed and not going to change anymore.

D.) You can discredit them in your own head as much as you want. Are they wrong about this character's motives? Did they misread your intentions with a plot twist? Haha! How stupid of them! This will make such a funny thing to vent about in private to your friends/family/beta reader/agent!

______________________________________

So...yeah, that. I would...I would tell them that.

[weebsinstash]

Hey I know this might be uncalled for and idk much about anything, but I found the last post in your personal blog talking about your trip kind of alarming. It sounds like you’re putting a lot of effort to an important friend, but from your posts, the entire situation just seems fishy. I’m sorry if I sound rude, I’m just concerned because you mentioned the other friend won’t make it and you’ll be alone with this guy far from home, and he doesn’t have any plans to take you around (which a lot of times, hanging out and sight-seeing doesn’t really require money, if any at all). I really hope that if you decide to go you’ll have an amazing time but at this point, but I’m afraid you’re kinda setting yourself up for disappointment? And I really hope I’m not rude by saying this. Again, you’re putting a lot of care and money into this trip so at this point you should think twice and consider going somewhere else and have fun by yourself.

I was wondering why you would ask over here but then I suddenly remembered I turned off anon on my main blog ages ago so that's on me 💀 you aren't being rude dont worry haha, its nice to know people care enough about me to express concern

For context for you guys who just know me over here, I recently reconnected with an old online friend I knew like 9 years ago and he kind of just invited me up for a visit with him and another online friend i knew during the same time period who also lives in his area on a whim because, life is short, the pandemic has been hell, people have died and drifted apart and all that, and I was really happy because he used to be a big pillar of support for me back in the day (the other friend too) and I thought "hey, taking a trip could be really good for me, im already super depressed lmao" but being invited up quickly turned into 1. Other friend can't make it 2. I have to provide my own lodging aka paying for motel which is expensive 3. He doesn't drive so I have to be taking a rideshare service to travel like 6 miles to his place and back to my hotel 4. I knew he was, earning a scholarship and such but he dropped on me today after I've already scheduled everything that he's been a full time student with no income so like, we really won't even be able to do basic shit like go out to eat or see a movie unless I pay for everything and that's on top of already spending like $1k on traveling and the motel alone

My mom is trying to talk me out of going and, I will be honest and say I'm really upset with his communication. He invited me in a really sincere way but this entire process has been a nightmare. Like I figured since I'm, you know, having to pay for a passport and travel to Canada, that we would be able to like sightsee and maybe check out the local food and try poutine but the only activities he has suggested so far is hiking (which is fine that sounds fun) and idk listening to music on subwoofers in his room in the house he shares with like 3 other men and doing shrooms. Like dude I love this guy like a brother but he really kind of should have told me he was quote "extremely poor" before I shelled out the cash to take 8 days out of my schedule, two of those which I'm going to be travelling the entire day, literally my departure day is gonna be 4am to 7pm nothing but travel and similar on the day back

But also like. He was there for me a lot of the times I needed it when I was younger, he supported me and did nice things for me, so I feel I owe him even if I didn't want to go, which I do like trust me I still want to see him. Yeah this isn't ideal but, it could still be something really good for the both of us. I trust him not to be creepy with me and you know, he's been through some really hard stuff too (for you followers over here, he is the same friend I mentioned the other day who basically lost use of his dominant hand in a work accident). Yeah it seems kind of iffy now but I could go and have a great time. And if not, if we don't click, and it's super awkward, then yeah I'm going to be extremely hardcore depressed by myself in a foreign country but I'll have my own hotel room so I can have my own space and do my own things until I crawl back home. I'll actually be in the Niagara Falls/St Catharines area of Ontario so, I figure, if I'm forced to make the best of a bad situation, there should be plenty of opportunities by myself due to the tourism :)

But yeah I'm still really nervous and I'm disappointed and anxious about this trip and I still have to pay for my passport and this is kind of coming at not the best time but,, I'm looking forward to this and so is he so, I think everything will be OK. And if not then I'll be super heartbroken and never want to trust anyone again because no one else will be familiar with me and accept me the way he has and if i don't have that then I might as well not even exist lol :)

[cryptometaphor]

Sarah: (complaining how her area needs a transit)

Me: Did somebody say MONORAIL?!

Sarah: Oh boy here we go lol

ACP Admin: Jim wants to be the grifter from Simpsons

Me: You're God damn right. Someone ought to be the contractor and that someone ought to be me.

ACP Admin: Private contractor? Class collaborating IS fascism Jim... Corporatism

Me: The Soviets still thought in-terms of cash. Dollars, rubels, why not pay people in scratch-offs?

ACP Admin: What? Sarah: I do wanna hear this more indepth.

Me: You speak of equity. Equal result not equal opportunity.

ACP Admin: That's Kamala's shit not mine

Me: Well whatever. My point is, if you got paid in lotto for what you do, you the value of the dollar couldn't be compromised. We know who wins and when, therefore mobsters couldn't forge the money either. It could be done digitally via crypto as well to add further...

ACP Admin: Again with crypto

Sarah: LOL but babe, how would people get paid in the now?

Me: Like... Right now?

Sarah: Like, say I work at McDonald's for a week

Me: Yeah you get your weekly allowance of scratch offs.

Sarah: No, I get that. But if I don't win shit? How will I eat or pay my bills?

Me: You don't

ACP Admin: So people just die?

Me: Maybe, hopefully...

Sarah: Or like, why are people getting paid in scratch-offs but businesses are getting paid in genuine money? Like, what's the point of them having money if individuals can only be paid in "maybe you get money later"? So if I do win a scratch off, win 200 dollars, buy groceries. Does the store's owner or employees see any of that money or does it just go back into the system?

Me: God I love how smart you are to see an idea through.

Sarah: Flattery won't save you this time. Answer the question.

Me: Yes, it's as you said. It goes back into the system so the value cannot drop. People only get paid in scratch-offs. We have ways to calculate a decent number of scratch-offs per employee.

ACP Admin: BUT WHY THOUGH

Me: Why anything?

ACP Admin: Fucking nihilist. This is just capitalism with extra steps.

Me: I mean yes... I never denied that.

Sarah: It sounds like third world exploitation but right in your backyard.

Me: You got it.

Sarah: That's horrible.

Me: It's meant to be. It's the distortion of the Protestant work-ethic. Your value is determined purely by chance. But if you work really really hard, you get more chances.

ACP Admin: But in the end it doesn't even matter like Linkin Park.

Me: Precisely.

ACP Admin: Jim, you are not a communist.

Me: Never claimed to be.

ACP Admin: Why do you like this guy?

Sarah: Deep down Jim is a good person... Sometimes lol

Me: Maybe there's noone in your life you'd work for till you dropped dead janny. But I know one person I'd do it for. Only one person.

Sarah: See? Shit like that.

ACP Admin: That's psychotic.

Me: It's purpose in a world absent of purpose. You're gonna work anyway, you do so right now. You're judged harshly underpaid for work well above what you need to be doing.

ACP Admin: THAT'S WHY THERE'S THEORY

Me: And I'm giving you theory. Trust me. This would appeal to human nature. Just world fallacy. Those who win, will feel like they won because God decreed it or they did a big enough work load. If I worked 16 hours a day for 6 days a week for a year, won a billion dollars. I earned it. Not like just being the son of the boss and making 100k where my coworkers are normally making 30k.

ACP Admin: That's entirely why we believe in socialism so that happens less. Your answer is just monkeys paw liberalism.

Me: It is.

ACP Admin: Is it gonna feel fair someone works 4 hours for one day and wins a billion?

Me: Nope, and that's the point. It'll either drive others mad or make them work harder. I don't care either way. Get violent and collapse my system.

ACP Admin: God you're evil. (I start laughing)

Sarah: Ooooh that's his flattered laugh like you just said his dick is huge lol

ACP Admin: It wasn't a compliment

Me: I'm taking it as such

ACP Admin: Why are you so edgy? Like who hurt you seriously

Me: You could not begin to fathom the hurt of waking up every morning and every dumb twat is still alive, not beneath your feet. It's not enough they breathe, they argue, they resist, they take from you, ban you...

ACP Admin: Ok fucking Sipheroth, calm down. Like, that's what dialectical materialism is for. Not cartoon super villany.

Me: I choose cartoon super-villany. It's far more realistic

ACP Admin: No, you're just a sociopath

Me: Can a sociopath love? Can a sociopath mourn? Can a sociopath regret?

ACP Admin: Psychopath, whatever

Me: It's easy to say things, it's harder to do them. You claim you love your friends, your parents, this or that. Prove it.

ACP Admin: What? By working for literally nothing?

Me: By existing. By not giving into the desire to just end it all day in and day out.

ACP Admin: Jim you need medication. I don't mean that to insult you, I mean like you obviously have like severe depression or something. Normal people don't just open their eyes when they wakeup "WHY AM I STILL ALIVE?!"

Me: More than you think. It's a pretty common trait when your IQ is above room temperature.

Sarah: I mean he is right babe. Like everything bothers you, everything triggers this long verbose villain rant, you're in constant agony and that's not normal. I don't mean that like you have an obligation to be normal, I'm not normal either.

Me: Well it's easier for you dollface. If I looked as good as you, was as smart as you, was as charming as you...

Sarah: OH STOP if I was all those things I wouldn't be a femcel.

Me: You're not a femcel. Not anymore. That is the crux behind everything I do. Never again.

Sarah: What do you mean?

Me: We do things once and than it's over with. One task, one mistake, one chore, one regret, one life. Never again. That's how things get better.

Sarah: Would you go through it again for me?

Me: I went through it for almost 40 years to get to you, so yes. Hence the lottery system.

Sarah: How do ya both manage to make me depressed but also make me feel like a fucking princess lol

ACP Admin: Cause he's manipulative but too schizo to just be a calculated sociopath about it

Me: Stop lollygagging and go call your mama right now and tell you you love her. You talk about me. I do it. Sarah I love you.

Sarah: I love you too. I'm not your mama though lol. I mean sometimes you do feel like daddy.

ACP Admin: Ew. Well Jim, go call YOUR mom...

Me: She's dead

ACP Admin: Oh wow, I'm sorry I...

Sarah: No she isn't. I heard her just the other day

Me: She's dead TO ME

ACP Admin: You're such a fucking asshole Jesus Christ lol

[thoughtsbeewild]

"I like quality people"

I was watching a clip of orange man in his younger years, i like what he said in the interview." i like quality people. Who doesn't?

I would take quality over quantity and vote change in our leaders in today current state. Leaders who give a shit more about thier employees. Which i had greatest opportunity to work for a President of quality. Versus a evil leader focused more on thier POWERFUL title, authority, ABUSE OF POWER AND CONTROL. One of the takeaways in RNC that resonated with me was YOU EARN YOUR MERIT FROM HARDWORK, IN BIDEN HIGH CRIME, HIGH INFLATION, HIGH TURNOVER OF EMPLOYMENT and SEEING THESE LAZY SOCIAL MEDIA CITIZENS OF USA GET IT EASY, WHILE HARD WORKING ONES ARE ONES WHO ARE LAID OFF, FIRED, PART OF REDUCTION AND FORCE and these party goers get to chill relax travel and come back to being employed. Who the fuck wants that, lazy fuckers getting pay check? The ones who work hard are ones that are part of reconstructing/reduction in force phase. HATE THESE LEADERS WHO WAIT TILL THE LAST MIN, SAY WHOOPS WE LOST MONEY IN Q2, Q3 FROM OUR OVERALL YEAR OVER YEAR RESULTS. That's why we little people on lower level tell you what the fuck is going on and leadership they dont fucking care until last min when high level leadership requests information. why would we still want have leadership who dont give a fuck, but cares more about title, power, control, greed. Instead utilizing American people, they will fire American people outsource thier jobs to cheaper labor where immigrants, international folks come in.

orange man said at his first rally, if they would devote thier time and energy on helping shape America instead of attacking me, then we would be stronger, better and helping the future generation create American dream. but no, demoncrat focus more on hatred. i don't like that.

but the leadership i was with in my prior company was not doing that.

This evil ugly director mom was more focused on her hatred revenge to eliminate all employees of all levels she had control over thier employment. It was more DO AS I SAY, and dont motherfucking question me bitch. Everyone hated her, but since she was director thier was no way any of us can take her down except leave the company respectfully until karma catches up to her evil ass. Alot great tenure workers, leaders quit because WHO The FUCK WANTS SEE THAT BITCH SUCCESSFUL and grow with her undeserving title. She was able recruit a lot of her demonic friends into the company as our group called it spies, ears to get that motherfucking information and use it against you when the time is needed. Who think you will ever experience this? you will if you vote for more Demoncrat into office, into leadership that sells/markets the bullshit online but once power is in place, all bets are off. I mean this director hired lazy ass person in the company to copy/mirror all of the hard work i have achieved over the years and slowly gradually attempted to terminate my employment once they got all they need.

They gave that lazy ass bitch one week PAID TIME OFF, PTO to go on a motherfucking cruise while i get stuck covering her shit, supporting 50 others and my job/role responsibilities i was hired for. And if i requested PTO, they put me through hell just to earn one mental day off.

yet leadership were like demoncrat, they would encourage PTO in meeting like selling to employees we care about your well being bullshit. but be selective who they give paid time off to and give paid time off to thier puppets in exchange to piss the hard worker off so they can quit. What kind leadership does that?

Once that lazy new bitch was freshed off her fucking cruise, they continue to force me to train her on everything i did, make her become me. I'm like bitch you will never be me, i never want be like you. The hell i went through with this corrupted leadership. people who were promoted in underserving titles/raises, who didnt have to lift a fucking finger to earn it up kiss ass to certain groups like they are as orange man says innocent baby.

Next step in the director/supervisor/ and its minions was to make a paper trail includes documentation of lies, information like you were defiant not listening to director rules/orders. As if you were a prisoner with a paycheck and if you don't sign it then hello all she has to do is use her HIGH director title of authority and just fire you, cause she the director.

But we fuckers are smarter than that, you better believe me it was a hard to finally stand up and give that F you to her and new leaders new president of company who will go down in hell.

This is the demonic leadership demoncrat, biden put in place in our states whatever its blue and red. I vote we don't have leadership like this making it miserable enough for hard working people to go mental and lazy people on social media doing half ass work half ass job, gets vacation days as they please and ends up with a promotion/title change which is a slap in the face for a lot individuals.

That's what this new leadership in place for lots of companies across the board. make up stories, call names. all that bullshit. I can definitely digress with this orange man

[uncle-fruity]

I think there's also a big difference between wanting to do art for community vs. wanting community so you can profit off your art. When I say ppl should do art for themselves, I don't mean they should take all their drawings & hide them away & be satisfied that they did it at all & that they shouldn't even need or want people to see their stuff. I mean they should do the art that speaks to their interests, that tells the stories they care about, that gives a personal POV, etc -- and not try to do empty greatest-common-denominator art that they don't connect with for the sake of popularity & profit. (For example, drawing fan art because it'll get ppl to engage easier than your original work, not because you love the thing you're doing fan art of.) Like, there's a big difference between doing art that you need to get attention for so you can make money as an artist and doing art to share with a community for the sake of engaging with those people & getting your ideas out there. If you don't count sharing your art with your friends and family as engagement or community, then I don't think you're actually wanting to build those things as much as wanting to make money off your hard-earned skills. I also don't think there's anything especially wrong with wanting to prioritize money in an increasingly pay-to-live world, nor is there a problem with wanting to be paid for the hard work you put into your art nor is there a problem with wanting online engagement to gain clientele -- that's just good business.

But if what you're really looking for is community & genuine, enthusiastic engagement with your art, you probably aren't going to find that online unless you're very lucky and very good at promoting yourself on social media to the right people. If you don't care about profit & just want more people to care about and engage with your work, I recommend joining an in person group (or starting one if you don't have any in your area). I never feel more artistically fulfilled than when I go to my monthly comic creators group and am surrounded by other creatives who are constantly asking what I'm working on and encouraging each other. Also, I personally organized a group of queer creatives who do all sorts of art and community outreach efforts -- that group actually has a table at Pride this year where we will be doing a pay-what-you-want art shop, specifically to make nice (usually expensive) originals accessible to folks who would otherwise not be able to afford them. And there's no guarantee that any of that will eventually translate into more money for me, but I do it for the community and support. I am hopeful and optimistic that I will also gain a few more commissions by just putting myself and my work out there, but if all I ever achieve is getting engagement & community from my friends & art groups, I am happy with that.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is... I don't think most people are going to find that kind of satisfaction online. Not that it's impossible, obviously, but for the vast majority of us, we are in an oversaturated market online & your success really depends on how appealing you can be online. If you join a media corporation to make your art & money, you have to deal with the market being fairly hostile to anything too weird/off-putting/diverse/original, and it is far more likely that you'll find yourself working on shit you hate so you can pay your bills than it is that you'll get your own show/comic run/etc that gets big enough to satisfy your need for engagement & community.

I think clicks & likes & reblogs & comments can feel empty because it's so easy to dehumanize people online. You might get 100 likes, but your brain might not translate that into 100 actual people engaging with your work. It's why I think every artist should try to find offline communities to belong to, because just 5 other artists telling you how cool/interesting/valuable your art is will always feel better than 100 people pushing "like!" and fucking off into the internet void.

Idk. No hate or judgement here. Folks will do their art for whatever reasons they have to do their art. I just hope that y'all can find ways to make it meaningful to yourselves and the people around you.

"immoral" "self-destructive" opinion or whatever but making art for no one fucking sucks shit

[bella-noel]

The toxic side of Escort Clubs in SecondLife. (RANT)

Do you all know how many places(adult clubs) I've worked at that are severely toxic? Not just the other workers, for the most part they are very nice. I mean THE OWNERS of these clubs. These adult clubs, specifically escort clubs, are so strict and when you bring concerns up to the owners, the owners will 100% gaslight and manipulate you into thinking they do these things for a good reason, which for the most part... They don't. They have these rules set in place to be strict, money grabbing assholes. Places I've worked at have 100% over worked their employees, and when the employees (myself included) expressed how overworked they felt, or tired they are after a long week and because of such, they are incapable to complete the agreed hours. Hours being 4 hours bare minimum, 7-8 hours for exclusive employees, 10+ for management, and THEN SOME. Now it seems more popular that the hours are being less, but likely because of these specific clubs either being exposed for their unacceptable hours, or they're actually owned by nice people. As someone who has a pretty busy RL, and uses SL as a hobby, I and many others, cannot sit down at a computer on SL all day every day. We have Real Life to tend to. Work, kids, family matters, etc. I understand a lot of club owners pour their hard earned money/Lindens into SL and their club and want the club(s) to be a success, but that DOES NOT excuse abusing their staff. Staff members have been humiliated, lied to, manipulated, verbally abused and even fired for little to nothing. Do you know what happens when you can't make your agreed hours? You risk being fired. Especially if you fail to message the owners " in time" due to simply forgetting from being so busy with RL. Even if you explain why, for example, I was in the hospital once for mental health issues and even giving the owners of the club I worked at at that time updates, and explaining I won't be online or at least at the club( In escort clubs you HAVE GOT to be flirty CONSTANTLY). Understandably, I was NOT in a flirty mood, and know what happened? I had the owner and her clique of managers up my ass and around the corner about when I "can be on stage" when I literally just got out of the hospital for a mental break down. The stress escort clubs put their employees under is simply not excusable.

ALSO, Most of these club owners have their own PRIVATE DISCORD where they get together and shit talk EVERY EMPLOYEE THEY DON'T LIKE, and with almost all of these club owners being in the same discord, and having that " hive mentality" they can easily BLACKLIST ANY EMPLOYEE THEY DISLIKE, and the worst of it, they blacklist employees before giving employees a chance to defend themselves. My friend got blacklisted by these very people, and she was out of work for a LONG TIME because of it all. She was miserably depressed, stressed and anxious about the thought of being completely blacklisted from almost all escort clubs on the grid. She loves the escort community on SL, and the fact she was too afraid to find another place to work and have fun at because of these narcissistic, gaslighting and manipulative abusers is sickening. Does LL know about the discord server, More than likely no, they don't. Otherwise every. Single. Club. Would get either shut down or have LL checking on them 24/7. Luckily my friend did find another place, but even that place was just as toxic, if not worse than a lot of the others, and she ended up quitting because the owners WOULD NOT LET UP on messaging her. She explained how stressed out she was, and how she couldn't keep up with it anymore, so she quit. For the love of fucking god, please STOP abusing other people on SL, as many others do actually use this specific community to pay their RL bills. Treating them like work horses drug through dog shit is not acceptable on any level, regardless of SL being a virtual world or not.

[frogsandfries]

I'm not crying

I'm hormonal and exhausted and my test results came back normal for where I should be in my period 😭😭😭

I shouldn't be surprised, but there's so much that can go wrong--like, I'm still kind of surprised my actual organs look good. Which indicates that, for whatever reason, I'm just not producing proper hormones in my own, but then, why? Where are the systems failing? What needs to be charged up?

But I'm thinking, if we try really hard this cycle, we should see some results. I will take any results. Chemical pregnancy, miscarriage--that's about as far as I'm ready to assume.

If snake-eyes, then we reeeaaaalllllyyy seriously need to look at the other contributing party. At whom I am presently very strongly...... not in a good mood with.

Not to air my dirty laundry, but I've been trying to gather my words about it--this coming from the brain that could not remember my date of birth yesterday. The words are something like this: I'm not pleased that my partner is talking to this other person by phone at whatever-the-fuck o'clock, while I'm sleeping. Like, you want it to be not-cheating? That's booty-call hours and blatantly behind my back and I'm allowed to be pissed off about that.

I'm also mad because my partner doesn't give a shit about maintaining our home. The chores pile up because I don't have the time and energy for them and I'm busy working--I shouldn't have to do all the housework. Like, fucking do something around here!! If you don't want to be here......... leave. I'll just buy some sperm on my own.

It's like, it doesn't feel right that my partner is fucking around instead of helping me maintain our home. And I've told them, I've repeated myself over and over: A trick I use personally is, I don't have to do the whole thing right now. Picking at it, little by little, is fine, it's great. It is actually better than not doing it at all.

My standards are NOT too high. They are not high at all. It's not like I need the walls mopped weekly or to bleach everything. We've never actually vacuumed this carpet and we've been here for two years. That's how low my standards are. Plus, fuck this carpet. I did not ask for this shit. Ew.

Like, paying the bills is the easy part. I'm here earning the money to pay the bills. And I'm still expected to manage the household, but I'm not respected for maintaining that role. That role is only meaningful if, when I tell you "the dishes need to be done", they fucking get done.

I mean, I've thought and considered often, maybe it would be better off this relationship was formally, officially dissolved. I don't need to go find another sexual partner. I just want to start my family and get on with my life. I've been prepared to be a single parent. At this rate, it doesn't matter that there's another adult in the household, I'm going to be a single parent any-fucking-way. I can already see, I'm not getting help with feeding or diapers or laundry or dishes.

That's what I'm pissed off about. And I don't know what to do about it. I'm really tired of begging for chores to get done by people who aren't presently going to a money-job and aren't doing much else throughout the day, but are contributing to the messes.

I have actually even lowered my acceptable thresholds when it comes to cleanliness, but I am not being met halfway.

I just am not seeing how adding another party into this is a bigger priority than fixing what exists already. If you add another atom to an unstable molecule, sometimes it stabilizes.

More often, there's some kind of reaction and atoms are lost or ejected first. Then stabilization happens.

That's what I'm pissed off about.

It has been eating at me, but sleep deprivation is making it extremely hard to shove down anymore.

I deserve more than an emotionally good relationship between two people at the exclusion of life-stuff. I need someone who can do the life-stuff.

[inazuma-fulgur]

Whenever people say shit like "you wouldn't want others to use your hard work and implement it into their hard and then get huge credit fo your work" I say yeah I do want that

Fuck this logic, like bro they're working on something. Take everything I made, whether I offered it or not and do your thing. You may create something terrible or something that is better than anything I could ever make and I don't know what it will be, why would I denie you this?

I'm legit losing nothing, this is capitalist brainrot

We're all standing on the shoulders of giants. Just that the giants aren't necessarily Albert Einstein's but many many humans who have worked on everything. Albert Einstein also stood on the shoulders of giants made of many many people.

Imagine each Giant as a field of expertise, you're relying on the labor of each person in there over the whole of human history. And you're telling me something about copyright?

TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME. YES I WROTE THIS TEXT. THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULD HAVE TO PAY ME TO USE MY IDEAS.

WHICH AREN'T EVEN TRULY MY IDEAS BECAUSE I LEARNED FROM SO MANY PEOPLE

If you used any free resource to learn you should pay everyone involved in making said free resources once you start making money with what they offered. Because at that point you could've also paid someone to learn, which in your world seems to be desirable

In my world not, in my world we share and teach and do everything for free and without demands for each other. Because that in turn means we get everything for free as well. All it does is cost our time + Energy. I mean it already only does take that, money is fake, but for some reason we have accepted the middle man of money as so important and omnipotent we let ourselves get exploited by those who understand the true use of money.

Money is an abstracted form of power and by accepting money as true and neutral we accept getting ruled and exploited by those who have more of it. More power concentrated in physical form, they seem to have earned it after all :clown:

That's why I'm talking about bad anti capitalism since the whole ai art thing (I mean I've done it before as well. I'm mad anmoyed at art communities)

Y'all have preached capitalist rhetoric before already and validated your own commodification and exploitation. And the same arguments got cranked up to the most extreme post ai art

Copyright law does not protect artists, why the fuck did any of you even believe it would when it is used to rob you since ever?