#and he's rich!?! pay my student loans man

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought!

But just imagine 35 years old CEO Gojo Satoru falling in love with the young woman whom he hired to be his surrogate.

Desperate at this point to fulfill his role as CEO and the heir of his family clan, he knew he had no other choice but to find someone who would be willing to give birth to his child.

He thought his ex-wife was the one. After all, she was pregnant when they were still together. When the due date came around and Satoru heard that she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, he was over the moon until he saw the baby for himself.

He knew that that wasn't his baby. Blonde hair and green eyes? No one in his family had blonde hair and green eyes. So he asked for a DNA test. His ex-wife refused at first, but then she gave in, and when the test came back, the baby was 99.99%, not his child.

He was broken. He served her divorce papers the following day, and after everything he had done for her, this is how she chose to repay him. As if cheating wasn't enough, she had to get pregnant and gave birth to another man’s child.

So now here he is sitting in a cafe waiting for the surrogate.

...

You didn't have much of a choice. 26 years of age and still struggling to get your bachelor's degree just so that you could live a comfortable life and be financially stable.

But with the way things are right now, you knew that it was an impossible task to complete your final year. You could hardly manage to pay your school fee. You kept on getting rejection letters from student loans, and let's face it, you barely had time to study to even try to get a scholarship.

So now you're stuck looking for a quick and easy way to make money. You had little options, and prostitution just so happened to be one of them. And you almost turned to it, that's until you heard that a "rich" CEO was looking for a woman who was willing to give birth to his heir.

So now that's how you ended up in the situation to you're in currently. Nervously playing with your fingers as sat across from no other than Gojo Satoru.

"Your name is Y/N?"

"Yes, and you're Mr. Gojo Satoru."

He shook his head yes while taking a sip of his coffee. "I hope you don't mind meeting like this. I thought it would be better to meet in a more casual setting instead of my office. I don't want to intimidate you."

"That's fine, Mr. Gojo."

"Before we get started, are you sure you want to do this? I want you to be absolutely sure because once you sign the contract, there is no backing out of it."

You shook your head yes before responding, "it's something that I've thought about deeply, Mr. Gojo, and after reading through the contract a few times, I came to the conclusion that I would rather have a baby for a stranger who is willing pay to me more than what my school fee is worth than go and become a prostitute."

He was shocked by your words but said nothing of it. It wasn't his place to say anything or have any comment about your personal life.

"Well then, I guess we can go ahead and meet with our lawyers and sign the contract."

"Lawyers? I thought... I can't afford a lawyer right now," you said to him.

He chuckled, "I figured that that would be the case. No worries, I had already hired a lawyer for you."

"You did?" You asked. Just then, the door to the cafe burst opened, and in came a man and a woman dressed in suits.

"Ah, there they are. Right on time."

Gojo stood up and greeted the lawyers before he introduced you to them. The man, Mr. Nanami Kento is his lawyer, and the woman Tetsu Akari is your lawyer. First impression she has a kind and calm aura around her.

But let's move down the line.

You four all sat and discussed what was on the contract, and before you signed it, Gojo asked, "Is there anything that you need to clarify before signing the contract."

"Yes, uhm, it's about the procedure. Are we going to uhm... have... uhm intercourse to conceive the baby?"

"We could since it's the safe way to go about this, but no," he answered with a small smile on his face.

"Ok then, where do I sign."

This is the beginning of how Gojo Satoru fell in love with the woman he hired to be his surrogate.

[hwangism143]

dim lights (work nights)

synopsis: work party. seungmin is a suit. a glass of wine. oh, you are so done.

pairing: lawyer!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: workplace romance, fluff, teensy angst

warnings: drinking, punching jokes, swearing

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: been in my drafts for like a week hehe. suit seungmin has me screaming. anyways, enjoy and pls drop any and all feedback!

"I'll be charging ten dollars to punch him in the face, upon your generous request," murmured a low voice tantalizingly close to your ear.

You scoffed, "The things I want to do to Davies go far beyond a modest punch to the face. Those things could get me in jail."

One arm across your waist and the other's elbow propped upon your hand, you turned to face the owner of the honeyed voice that just offered you an extremely lucrative deal moments. Swirling around the remaining wine in your wine glass, you studied Kim Seungmin as he studied you.

"In that case," Seungmin sighed, "You'll have to pay my legal consultancy fees which, I'm afraid is far higher."

A laugh bubbled from your lips as Seungmin smirked at your rage. Watching one of the many people you were currently pitted against for a promotion kissing up to your boss made anger blossom within you. Then again, you weren't exactly known for being the most level-headed lawyer employed at the Prescott, Park and Daley Legal Firm.

But you, along with Seungmin, were known for being the best.

You offered Seungmin eyes that reflected betrayal. "I thought you would bail me out for free. I thought we were friends," you chastised.

"We most definitely are not friends, darling," said Seungmin smugly.

A smirk was forming on his lips and an eyebrow was ticked up. You felt yourself being stripped bare under his piercing gaze and flirtatious smile. Oh how he loved torturing you.

You caught your lip between your teeth to drink him in, deciding to conveniently ignore the fact that your teeth were currently in the process of being stained by your dark red lipstick. Seungmin's hair was styled to perfection, his skin was glowing and his eyes stayed on you as if you were a person he wished to learn every fold of. His three-piece suit was tailored to perfection and hugged his body perfectly.

You looked away and hoped he attributed your flushed face to the wine you were drinking. He was right though. You and Seungmin were not friends, not in the conventional sense. It was more of a situation where being paired up so much over the seven years that you spent at the firm caused to the two of you to become comfortable in each other's presence.

Both you having graduated top of your class from law school (you went to Harvard Law while Seungmin opted for Princeton), you both joined the law firm at the same time, full of dreams and aspirations. At first, you both considered one another as rivals. Constantly being compared truly made you inhibit a sort of begrudging sense of dislike towards him.

However, working your first together, truly made you realize how he was actually a very caring person. Seungmin constantly knew what to say to you without even saying anything. He brought you food and made you ramen after he found out your extreme affection towards the Korean delicacy.

You and Seungmin, however, came from strikingly different backgrounds. Seungmin lived comfortably and had a wealthy upbringing, which caused people to often underestimate his hard work. You went to school on an eighty percent scholarship but still worked three jobs to pay of your student loan, causing people to often very offensively doubt your etiquette.

You heard the rumors about rich kid Seungmin during your initial weeks at the firm. Allegedly (you are a lawyer, of course you use the word allegedly more than any other word over), he lived in a high rise apartment with so many floors that a helicopter, a fucking helicopter,crashed into the side of it.

You took extreme pride in being the only one to know that this was, in fact, true, as confirmed by the man himself.

Forcing your eyes to go back to Seungmin, your gaze sat on the horrendous lump which he called his 'tie'.

"It's on wrong," you remarked, motioning towards Seungmin's tie. He gave you shrug. "Fix it for me?"

You set down your now empty glass on the sleek granite table and the private restaurant lounge your colleagues and high playing clients were currently in. The low jazz music and soft lighting gave the entire room an ambience of romance. This was only heightened by Seungmin's sudden desire to covertly flirt with you.

Reaching around his neck to undo his tie, you never broke eye contact with him. You could feel his gaze start from your eyes and trail all the way down to your black stilettoes. He had a faint smile on his face. So he likes what he sees?

Finishing with a scoff, you send him away with a pat on his arm in a futile attempt to diffuse the tiny fireworks that were popping all over your body. Seungmin disappeared into the crowd to socialize, leaving you his scent surrounding your very being.

Grabbing another drink (a mojito), you walked over to the table where Seungmin's paralegal, Hyunjin, sat scrolling on his phone. Both of you being ambiverts who leaned more towards the introverted side, you both often found yourself sitting at the quiet people table in silence.

You could see Hyunjin's welcoming eyes move from you to somewhere behind you, morphing into one of distaste. You followed his line of sight to find your paralegal, Yeji, downing shots like her life depended on it. Although Hyunjin loved his cousin, he wouldn't be caught dead doing the things she did.

"You're painfully fond of him," started Hyunjin in mock annoyance, "It's disgusting."

You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a light slip. Hyunjin dramatically feigned pain and pushed a plate of food towards you. Your stomach rumbling as if on cue, you pounced on the food and relished it. That was one good thing about these corporate meetings; they had free food, at least as far as girl logic went.

Finishing up with a satisfied sigh, you looked up only to lock eyes with a notorious Mr. Peterson, a heavily disliked client who loved hitting on women. The bartender, Chan, offered you a sympathetic smile and slid you a shot of tequila.

"You're gonna need it," he said pitifully, patting your hand twice for reassurance.

Suppressing the urge to slap the now emerging Mr. Peterson and plastering on a fake smile, you turned to face the cause of your sorrow. The short, balding man's attempt at making any nonsensical, non-professional conversation was shot down by you quickly. You waved around your hand around, hoping he would take note of the large diamond ring that sat nestled in you finger.

You hoped he would take the hint about your marital status. You were loyal to your husband to a fault. Behind you, a Kim Seungmin watched you in amusement. You felt both sadness and anger seep into you. Sadness because he wasn't near you and anger because you were left alone to deal with a human shaped insolence.

Finally escaping from the clutches of Mr. Peterson grubby hands, you put your head down on the cold marble slab. Your hands held your heels and your head was already pounding from the effects of alcohol. Behind you, you heard a laugh that you knew unmistakable belonged to Seungmin. Turning around, you came face to face with a seemingly put together and knowingly exhausted Seungmin.

"Working hours are over," you said wearily.

"So?" came Seungmin's dry response.

You held your arms up like a child. "So, would you like to carry your extremely drunk yet adorably lovable wife home?"

Seungmin pressed a kiss to your forehead and duly obliged.

main taglist (reply to be added) - @linoalwaysknows

[drdemonprince]

This might be a strange ask but since you are/have been a instructor/professor/teacher/whatever is it worth it to deal with the cliqueness, classism and other general baggage of academia if the only want you would have would be the ability to teach other people? I would love to be able to teach as a profession but at the same time I want to be able to teach for people who aren't forced to attend classes against their will (which is where my apprehension would be teaching high school vs post-secondary).

I think if your goal is to teach people who are there to learn completely of their own volition, becoming a college professor is not gonna do it for you. A majority of people who attend school do so under circumstances of economic and social coercion, don't have their heart in it, are not well suited to the highly constrained university environment, and lack much control over which courses they get to take anyway.

You will not generally find a passionate, autonomous population of learners at any university or college. Instead you'll find people who are doing what they have been told to do all their lives by everyone around them, people who feel that they have no other choice but to attend, and the idle rich who generally don't value the enterprise of learning or take it seriously. You'll also most likely be very broke and not ever get a full-time job.

As a full-time professor, I am a statistical aberration. I got lucky, frankly, because a former head of my academic department got a random budget line and he wanted to surround himself with pretty young women, so he offered a full-time position to a blonde big-titted 30-year-old who had been working part-time for him for years. and after that budget line was erased upon his departure, that big titted 30 year old managed to finagle a lasting position for himself, and become a man. If that random bolt of luck hadn't hit, I would still be teaching from 9am to 10pm every day on three different campuses for like $40,000 a year combined, with no insurance, and battling laryngitis all the time. My students were mostly exhausted, broke, and desperate to escape their circumstances as well, and had been sold a lie that taking on tens of thousands of dollars in student loan debt would be the escape route for them.

I think if you want the experience of teaching people who full-throatedly love the subject they are studying and are making the free choice to learn, you'll have to think of a way to reach people autonomously, free from institutional constraints and economic pressures. That's unlikely to pay well. But being an adjunct (and the majority of college instructors are part-time adjuncts!) doesn't pay well at all either.

Generally, I'd encourage people not to make decisions about their long-term financial wellbeing based on their passions, and instead to find some tenable way of paying the bills that demands relatively little of them and allows them to funnel their energy elsewhere.

[biteofcherry]

You were broke. Completely and utterly broke. Student loans were crumbling down in you and your part time job at McDonald's wasn't paying the bills anymore. Your parents had given up on you and wanted you to get married after school but you wanted to go to college and thus there was no familial support.

After a lot of contemplation and swallowing your pride. You took up the offer of your friend and tried to get a sugar daddy. She gave you ticket to a place and luckily for you. The event host took a liking to you. He was the richest of them all but also dangerous. You knew he had some shady businesses in the back and most people feared him because of that as well. But you didn't care, as long as he gave you money.

However, to your horror, you came to know that your ticket was exchanged with another lady and this was not a place to find a sugar daddy, but the host wanted a wife.

You profusely apologized to him and tried to get away but he had made up his mind. He wanted you and he was going to marry you. Whether you wanted it or not.

After all, what could be your needs that won't get fulfilled by marrying a rich man rahte than being his sugar baby? Right?

Katie, don't think I forgot about this little gem you sent me! I read it on my train ride, when you sent it and saved it to properly reply when I return 🩷

I do agree that while it was shocking to find out the mistake, it is quite a promotion. In the good way. You still get to be sugar baby, but called wife and with a ring on your finger and a husband to dote on you. Even if he is intense at times, even if he towers over you and likes to corner you as you still try to rebel against some of his decisions 😎

But you can't help the way your pupils widen and your lips part, when he proves to you that you're most eager to follow his lead not because he spoils you financially, but because he plays your body like a maestro does an instrument.

As well because he's attentive and notices the things about you that many men often ignored, or didn't appreciate.

And he will prove it every day and night on your honeymoon - showing you the most beautiful places; keeping you in luxurious villas and hotels; buying you new wardrobe and jewelry; delighting in the way you enjoy food and treats; and obviously making you scream and sob as he fucks you into compliance...

and has you softly snuggled to him on the flight home, smiling to himself in triumph when you start responding to the flight crew calling you Mrs. Barnes.

[rosedpetal]

Workmates

Summary: Ransom Drysdale has been the essence of hell in your life, and now you two are forced to work together.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Authors note: this is a repost, and it was originally a three part fic.

Warnings: smut at the end.

Minors, do not interact.

Masterlist

Ransom was staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his stupid face. The remains of your coffee were sprawled on the cafeteria floor, on the table, and on your - not anymore - white shirt.

"Jesus, Y/N! Are you okay?" Your boss, Emma, the senior partner of the law firm you worked for, asked you while you put your weight on your hands to get balanced enough to get up. You wanted to scream that no, you were not okay. You fell on your fucking knees after being tripped by Ransom. That son of a...

"I'm fine, really." You mumbled, accepting her hand for help. Emma weirdly looked at Ransom. She was probably confused about why he didn't offer you, a lady, his hand. You almost laughed. Ransom Drysdale was no gentleman, and why would he help you when he was the reason you almost broke your kneecaps?

You sighed, trying not to cry. You didn't spare him a second glance, because you knew that if you did, you would end up kicking his groin.

"You don't seem fine, sweetheart." His condescending voice mocked you. "Perhaps we should have this conversation on another day?"

It would be great for him to have this conversation on another day. He and you were fighting for the same promotion in the firm - and you'd been there for the past three years, while the nepo baby had started a few months prior - and it was being a nerve-wracking competition where he would torment you, and you would try not to react.

So much for having some fucking peace.

You spent years studying hard to get a decent-paying job, one that would make your parents' struggle of having a kid in college worth it. You had to be successful. You owed them that.

And while some of your classmates - Ransom Drysdale and his obnoxious rich buddies - partied and failed assignment after assignment, you almost went crazy doing everything you could to get your law degree and pass the bar exam.

You still couldn't get a grasp on how Ransom passed the bar. Back then, he never seemed the studious type, and he never gave you a second glance either - the girl in the front seat, face buried in books, making notes and asking questions all the damn time. You didn't pleasantly catch his eye, either. Most of your female classmates had tans for spending weekends on sunny beaches, had better wardrobes than you, and could have meals without feeling guilty because the money spent on it wouldn't make a difference in their bank accounts.

You envied them. But most of the time, you couldn't be allowed to feel sorry for yourself when there was such a long journey to complete.

It was for the best, in the end. You got into a renowned law firm and paid off your student loans. With your new income, you could finally afford a good apartment, treat your parents and give yourself luxuries you never dreamed about.

And just after you finally started thriving, Ransom fucking Drysdale got a job offer at the same firm, and he dared to look surprised when he saw you working there.

You were the one who should be surprised. Ransom was a total airhead - and that was a compliment. How the fuck a lazy rich man-child passed the fucking bar when he didn't bother even attending classes?

Why is life so fucking unfair?

“You dozed off a little, sweetheart." Ransom stated while you stared at Emma.

"I think we should have this conversation now, I can just put a sweater over my shirt." You tried to put on a calm voice but you cringed at how you sounded distressed.

Damn right you were about to cry.

"Hmm, okay." Emma stared at the two of you back and forth. She was too damn smart to not see through your poor excuse of a friendly façade with Ransom, but she was also kind enough to not say a thing about it.

"I gave it a thought, and while you, Hugh, are way above the expectations for your lack of experience; Y/N's been the top attorney of this firm for years. It's not really a fair comparison."

It's really fucking not, Emma! You wanted to yell at her face but forced a smile at the compliment. 

"So, I had this amazing idea." she continued, and you started to panic. While Emma was brilliant she could be so naive with her ideas. She looked at you. "You get the promotion and take Hugh under your wing. You'll work on your cases together, and he gets more experience... What do you think?

Before you could answer her, Ransom smiled like a kid in a candy shop.

"We're gonna work so well together, Y/N!" The bastard grinned. "Thank you for the opportunity, Emma, it means the world to me."

You wished the earth opened up and swallowed you up.

Your new office was way bigger, just as much as the dread in your veins. It had a nice view of Boston from your giant glass windows, and you couldn't even enjoy it because of your new work buddy.

"Good morning, boss!" His voice chanted behind you, and you turned to face him, angrily. "Why the face? Didn't get your coffee this morning?"

You breathed in, out, in, out. Maybe if you counted to ten, you wouldn't throw him out the window. You pictured the noise his body would make once it hit the ground, and suddenly, you were in a lighter mood.

"No, a little bitch tripped me and I couldn't enjoy it. But I just know you're going to be a sweetheart and get me another one." You pronounced the word 'sweetheart' with vengeance. 

"How do you like your coffee, sweetheart?" He mimicked and smiled at you, unfazed. 

Oh, the realization hit you. He was totally gonna spit on your precious coffee.

"Nevermind, I'm not in the mood for coffee anymore." You answered him quickly, trying to ignore his disturbing existence and adjusting your things. You were an organized person, and all the files of your current cases were organized inside a big archive box.

You sat on your new chair and placed your laptop on your new desk while Ransom was still staring at you like a moron.

"What?" Your voice came out harsher than you intended.

"Just thinking. I should've given you more attention in college. Maybe I would be sitting on your chair and you would be the one fantasizing about spitting on my coffee."

You snorted and he looked at you, amused. You were caught off guard too.

After that little moment, the first day working with him went by surprisingly well. You went over cases, spoke with clients and he took everything in gracefully. You were still mad at him, how couldn't you be? He was a fucking brat, and he was an ass with you for no reason.

Well, he had a reason but it wasn't a good motive. He tried to bully you to quit, how fucked up in the head that could be? If work was high school, Hugh Ransom Drysdale would be the mean cheerleader captain.

When you were about to leave for the day, grabbing your coat and your bag, Ransom stopped you.

"Hey, wanna have a drink tonight?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Absolutely fucking not, Drysdale."

He just shrugged, and you went straight home.

After a few weeks, Ransom started growing on you. On a particularly rough morning, when a client was being a pain on your and Ransom's existences, he brought you coffee after noticing you were on the verge of crying.

"Don't let it get to you, Y/N. God knows I don't." He offered with a tight smile. You were too tired to make a snarky comment about him being an actually decent human being, so you just sipped on your coffee before you went full sobbing.

Those damned female hormones.

Ransom cleared his throat.

"Ok, this is awkward." He clarified. Between crying and sniffing, you weren't really surprised at how emotionally stunted Ransom was. 

It was comical. He stood there, not knowing what to do. And then, he patted your head.

He actually patted your head. Like you were a fucking dog. You were so stunned at the gesture that you didn't even realize it when you started laughing.

You threw your head back, new tears forming on your eyes. You laughed so hard that your tummy hurt.

Ransom laughed with you too. Like genuinely laughing. Who would say such a thing could happen?

You rolled over, grabbing your front and trying to catch your breath.

You didn't notice, but you started growing on him too.

Your work dynamics with Ransom were almost perfect. You finally felt like you could trust him to do some work on his own, so you let him be on some paperwork while you finished others.

The weather began to get chilly by the end of your office hours and Ransom invited you to his place to get over a file again, to which you stupidly agreed. So you followed his car, getting a little anxious.

When he finally pulled over, you were quite surprised at how cozy the two-story house looked. It wasn't something you expected for a single man. 

He even had a white fence!

He smiled at you when you walked through the door, taking in the dim lights, the fireplace in the living room, and his big kitchen. You wondered if he cooked his own meals.

"Wine?" He offered, already pouring a bottle of some expensive delicacy you've never tasted. You only bought cheap drinks, maybe too worried to spend so much money on such a frivolous thing after how you struggled financially growing up.

"Just a glass, I don't wanna get dizzy." You accepted the glass in his extended hand and took a little sip.

You never even read the file you were supposed to.

Ransom started to babble about how he bought this home after passing the bar exam, excited to start a new journey in his life, where he could be his own person and have something he achieved for himself, instead of working with his grandfather for the rest of his life.

Listening to his life story, his fucked up family, and how he self-doubted he could actually succeed without their money and connections made you feel a little more sympathetic toward him.

Because while you resented him for having the life you only dreamed of, his privileges got in his way of flourishing. And despite all of your struggles, you had loving parents that nurtured you into the woman you were now.

"Do you know I used to despise you?" You let the words slip off your mouth before you could stop them. "You infuriated me. I hated how carefree you were in college because you could fail and you would still have new opportunities. It was my only chance. I worked so hard, and then I saw you at the firm and..."

He looked at you, expectantly.

"I doubted you. And after Emma stated that the promotion was for me or you, and you began to make my work hours a living hell, I even contemplated looking for another job."

Ransom scoffed.

"I wasn't that bad."

"Say that to my knees, Ransom."

He chuckled. 

"If it makes it better, I didn't think you were going to get hurt."

You lifted your brown and sipped on your wine, emptying the glass. He reached for the bottle to pour more, but you stopped him by putting your hand over his. His eyes moved to yours, and then to your lips.

He didn't hesitate when your lips reached for his, eager and passionate. Your body began moving to its own accord, straddling his lap on the leather couch, his hands on your waist, groping your ass, on the back of your neck pulling your hair to leave a trail of wet kisses on your jaw, neck, collarbones...

You yelped when he ripped your white blouse, buttons flying everywhere. He cupped your breasts over your bra, savoring your beautiful body over him.

"You have no idea of how much I fantasized about this, Y/N" His breath fanned your ear, and he sucked on your earlobe, almost taking your earring off. You let out a little gasp when his hands reached under your skirt. "I always knew the promotion was yours. But seeing you mad was such a turn-on."

Your eyes shot open. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"I wasn't just mad, Drysdale. I was having the worst time of my life since college! I can't believe you right now" You got off his lap easily, and he didn't try to stop you.

"Don't be like that, Y/N, I already apologized-" He started, but you cut him off quickly:

"And just because you said your sorry words it means everything is fixed, uh?" You scoffed at him, grabbing your bag on the kitchen counter. "See you on Monday, asshole."

You stormed off his house, ready to drown in regret for kissing him. 

Because now that you did, you couldn't get the tingling feeling off your lips and the longing for more.

You were dreading the moment you'd have to get up from your bed and go to work. The weekend went by really quick, but also really slow (the waves of anxiety tormenting your thoughts were responsible for that).

Monday morning, after brushing your teeth angrily, sipping on your tea angrily, and almost tearing the zipper of your favorite pencil skirt, you took a breath and asked yourself why you were so worried. Ransom wasn't really that important (except he was, and not even you could deny it for much longer).

You were angry at yourself. That night you were at his place, drank his wine, and also, you made the first move. When have you become so bold? 

And then, you snapped at him and had to become sexually frustrated too.

It's like I hate myself or something, you thought, grabbing the designer bag Emma gave you on your birthday and putting your belongings in it.

Maybe I should just quit, move to another country and start a new life. Okay, you were being too dramatic, but how could you face him now?

You weren't brazen like Ransom. For all you knew about him, he could kick a puppy on the street and go on with his life like nothing happened later. 

But you? You calculated your life at the smallest details, meticulously navigating through all your milestones and you never strayed. You tried to be the nicest person on the earth, because life was already hard as it was. You couldn't just snap one day and let it all go down to drain.

"Why that face, Y/N?" One of your colleagues asked when you entered the building. You bit the remark on your tongue and just said you had too much to drink the night before.

Jesus. You had a resting bitch face. Should you get botox?

Almost getting lost in your thoughts (you couldn't really ignore the anxiousness at the bottom of your stomach, threatening to spill back the contents of your breakfast), you got in the elevator, pressed the button to your floor, and let your back rest against the metal doors.

The door opened, and your gaze lowered to your black scarpins. Ransom cleared his throat, mouthing a low "good morning". You held your breath when his cologne filled your nostrils. It seemed ten times stronger now, hitting you with vengefulness.

Why did he have to smell so good? You never noticed a man's perfume before, they all seemed pretty much the same to you, and you never noticed Ransom's either until recently.

Until you were straddling his lap, getting intoxicated by it.

"Did someone steal your teddy bear or something?" He asked abruptly, turning to face you. "Can we not be awkward right now?"

"It's too late for that." You replied in a weird voice, shifting the weight of your feet to the other. Ransom rolled his eyes.

"And why the hell are you so pale? When was the last time you ate?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose in your thumb and index finger. You just ate, he's just being an asshole, Y/N, you reminded yourself.

"Are you seriously gonna pretend I'm not talking to you right now? How can you-"

"Ransom, SHUT UP!" You yelled, surprising you both with the tone of your voice. "Sorry, I just- can we not do this right now?"

He sighed. When you reached the floor of your office, Ransom went first, stomping his feet. You almost smiled, he was such a child. 

As he walked in front of you, you couldn't help but notice his peachy bottom.

"Were you checking me out just right now?"

"Yeah, you could use some squats." You stopped daydreaming and replied in a sassy tone, putting your bag on your desk and crossing your arms on your chest. Your eyes reached his and your expression softened. "Look, Ransom, I'm so sorry about that night. I shouldn't have done that, I'm so mortified. That was really uncalled for. And unprofessional. I understand if you want to go to HR and get me a complaint." You word-vomited, speaking so fast that if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't get a thing of what you just said.

His eyes widened and he gave you a short, humorless laugh.

"Why the hell would I do that to you, woman? I was giving you signs the whole evening. I wanted that for so long, and I'm so fucking mad at you right now for apologizing for the wrong reason!"

"Ransom, I-" You tried to reason, but he cut you off.

"No, you shut your fucking mouth now, Y/N. I even gave you space because I didn't want you to feel pressured or anything. Do you have any idea how many times I tried to text just to never press 'send'? And now you apologize for kissing me? You should apologize for leaving me with a damn boner-"

"Lower your voice!" You half whispered half yelled at him, looking around to see if anyone heard what he said. His jaw clenched, and he got closer to you. When you were face to face, he punctuated in a low tone:

"I'm tired of your bullshit. Do you think having your whole life planned will get you everything you want? I see a frustrated woman who can't let her guard down and can't even get laid".

His breath was mixing with yours, words cruelly spit, and you felt your nostrils flare with anger. He kept going as if he didn't humiliated you enough:

"It's actually for the best. You're probably a bad fuck, anyway."

You turned on your heels with balled fists on your sides and chose to ignore him, otherwise, you would really give him a reason to go to HR.

The two of you were back to square one. He would be a little shit to you, and you would try your best not to punch his face. You were glad he was your protégée and not the other way around - you didn't like to think what he could do to you in a position of power.

On lunch break, you got yourself a salad with grilled chicken, not really hungry. As you sat to eat with one of your work friends at the restaurant across the street from the building, you spotted Ransom talking to a woman from another floor. She was twisting one of her locks in her finger and laughing at something he was saying. You rolled your eyes, scoffing, and went back to eat your salad.

"He's so hot" Lizzie sighed, daydreaming. "How can you work with him and not be head over heels?"

"Just talk to him for a minute and you'll know why." You seethed and chewed on your lettuce.

"That lady over there seems quite fond of him." She went on, not picking on your mood shift. "Look at that nice piece of ass over there! And those muscles under those sweaters? I'd let him choke me to death with those arms".

"Please, shut up." You begged. "I'm about to throw up".

"Stop being a prude." She rolled her eyes at you. "Oh, that bitch is so lucky, she's probably thinking about-"

"Oh my God, Elizabeth, I'm not eating with you anymore." You interrupted her monologue and she eyed you curiously.

"What's your deal with him? You two slept together or something?" You didn't dignify her with an answer and her eyes widened. "Oh God! You totally did-"

"Shush!" You pressed your index finger on her lips. "We didn't, but we kissed. And this conversation is over. I refuse to talk about it ever again."

You must've sound really serious, because she actually dropped the subject.

With a blink of your eye, the week was over. Your interactions with Ransom were getting more mechanical and since you showed no interest in engaging with his childish games he stopped disturbing your peace.

Lizzie respected your wish to not talk about Ransom for longer than you expected, just bringing the topic once to coerce you to go out with her Friday night.

And that was the reason you were wearing a shiny pink bodycon dress with thin straps and white high heels, in a long ass line to get inside a shady dance club. Lizzie was talking nonstop in your ear, and you just listened, bored and in need of a drink.

When you finally got in, she dragged you to a booth and ordered cocktails for you two.

"Let's get you loosened up to drop the constipated face!" She yelled over the music and you glared at her angrily, sipping on your glass and probably making a face.

"What the hell?" You weren't drinking that. God, that was so disgusting, whatever that drink was made of it was fucking terrible. You got up to the bar to get something else, and then, you saw him.

Ransom was sitting with his friends and with a pretty brunette stuck on his side, almost on his lap. He must've felt your gaze on him, because he turned his head and he locked eyes with you.

Fuck.

Okay, you weren't a coward. You could play it cool. Breaking eye contact, you went to the bar and ordered a piña colada, and as you were waiting for your drink, you felt someone's hand touching your arm.

Sighing, you looked back, ready to fight the asshole who was touching you without your permission.

Your jaw almost dropped when you saw Ransom with a smirk on his face.

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? I'm a terrible fuck." You grinned and he laughed, his cheeks a beautiful shade of pink, probably from drinking.

"One of my buddies over there asked if you were single."

"Oh. I'm not interested" you stated.

"Don't worry, I told him that you have gonorrhea."

Your blood boiled.

"What? Are you insane, Drysdale? I'm going to fucking sue you, you stupid son of a bitch!" You index finger were on his face and he broke in a fit of laughter, his hand resting on his stomach.

"I'm just kidding, god, your face!" He managed to say between his stupid giggles. You rolled your eyes and went to the booth to find Lizzie.

How could someone be so insufferable? It was like a gift.

"I'm offended that you didn't like my drink." Lizzie pouted at you, already drunk. Yeah, you could see how the night was going to end. You holding her hair while she emptied her stomach on the toilet.

"Girl, take it easy." You rolled your eyes. "You won't believe who I just saw".

"Mr. Drysdale?"

"Yeah, how did you know? Oh." You barely finished your sentence and she moved her head, pointing to him, sitting in front of you in your booth. "You don't fucking give up, do you?"

"Can we talk?"

"No!"

"Yes."

You looked at Lizzie, feeling betrayed. She got up and left you alone with him, that little bitch.

"Okay, Drysdale, humor me."

"I miss you?"

"It sounds like a question, not an statement." You shook your head to him. "And don't you have an arm candy waiting for you over there?"

The girl he was with minutes ago stared at you with bitterness, her crimson red lips curled in a thin line.

His eyebrow rose. "Am I detecting a hint of jealousy?"

"In your dreams, Drysdale. Just thought you'd like to go back to her, since she's marching over here looking royally pissed."

When Ransom turned his head to look, she was already throwing her drink on his face.

"You are the worst date ever!" She screamed and left, stomping her feet like she was throwing a tantrum.

Serves him right for going out with a girl that barely looked old enough to drink.

You folded your arms over your chest and smiled at him. His hair was wet, and the drink was dripping from his chin, also wetting his shirt.

You were wrong, going out tonight was totally worth it.

Somehow, you, Lizzie and Ransom left the club together.

Well, more like he was helping you carry the woman and get her taken care of.

Without complaining (for your surprise), Ransom secured Lizzie in his arms while she threw up on the street outside of the club whilst you held her hair; got an Uber for you guys and helped you put her in the backseat; picked her up bridal style while you searched for her keys on her JW Pei bag; tuck her in bed gently while you got a glass of water and aspirin for her and left them on her nightstand.

You two mumbled good night to Lizzie, and she replied in drunk gibberish. 

When you left her apartment, you locked the door on the outside and slipped the key back inside under it. 

And just like that, you two were alone, and you suddenly became aware of that and the silence.

Ransom's hair was a little messy, but you never thought of him so handsome as he was in that moment. His blue eyes bored into yours like a silent plead.

You wondered if you two would ever understand each other.

It seemed like hours, but only seconds have passed. His body got closer to yours, and he grabbed your middle, pulling you into him. You let out a little whimper when his forehead rested into yours, noses touching.

"Please, don't run away now." He begged, his voice hoarse. His skin was a little sticky, probably from the sugary drink thrown on him earlier.

You answered by claiming his lips with yours.

You moaned softly, feeling your lips swollen. Ransom kissed you breathless, unlocking his front door and dragging you inside with him. He pulled you by the back of your thighs to straddle his hips and squeezed your ass cheeks roughly. The hem of your mini dress was already rolled up to your stomach, giving him free access.

You knew you wouldn't be able to get to his bedroom.

He lowered you into his leather couch, taking his shirt off the next second. You bit your lip while taking him in - he looked like a damn god. 

Fuck my life, you thought.

Driven by lust, you grabbed him by his belt and clumsily unbuckled it, cussing at it. He chuckled lowly and helped you, lowering his jeans of his toned legs along with his boxers. You felt your mouth water at the sight of his cock: long, thick, hard and leaking for you.

You looked at him through your eyelashes and moistened him with your saliva, rolling your tongue sinfully on the red tip while he watched you with a clenched jaw, using his hands to put your hair on a ponytail.

"You did not learn how to suck dick like a pro until after college, that's for sure." He mocked you, and you pinched the inside of his thigh. Ransom hissed at you, and completed: "''Cause you were too busy studying to practice thiiiiis-" He moaned, curling his toes when you finally took him in your mouth the best you could. 

You felt your panties getting wetter and your jaw ache. You bobbed your head, slowly at first, getting used to his thickness. Your dominant hand jerked the rest of him off, and the other grabbed his butt to force him deeper into your throat.

You drooled all over your chin, feeling tears prick on your eyes when he picked up the pace and face-fucked you. You gagged and tried your best to breathe through your nose, while Ransom let the dirtiest sequence of curses leave his mouth.

He stopped the assault on your throat abruptly, and lift your body up by your hair slowly.

"I'm gonna cum on that sweet mouth some other time, I need to be inside of you now." He sat you on the couch and pulled your dress off your body.

He kissed you again, impatient this time, lowering his hand to your panties and ripping them. He threw the destroyed lace on the floor and rubbed his fingers on your slickness, lubricating his fingers. He slipped one inside of you and you moaned at the entrance, massaging his tongue with yours.

He added another finger and curled them inside of you, earning a gasp from you. You screamed when Ransom started scissoring you in a fast pace, unprepared for it. Your high was building fast, and you came on his fingers, getting his hand wet with your juices.

"Fuck fuck fuck" You cried out when he didn't stop, convulsing again and sobbing on his mouth. He retreated his fingers from you and laid you on the couch, then stroked his cock with his hand, rubbing the tip on your clit. You moaned and he sank on you, making you tense with the intrusion.

Slowly, he bottomed you out. He grabbed your hips, and your legs wrapped around him, urging him to move.

He moved back.

And slammed back in.

You cried out in surprise, while he fastened his pace and fucked you good. 

"Yes baby, this fucking cunt is mine now." He groaned and rubbed your clit with his thumb, snapping his hips into yours. "Say it".

"It's yours-oh God-" You cried out. Ransom showed you no mercy while he fucked you, making your insides burn and build that familiar coil again. His hips snapped into yours with vengeance, making your eyes roll back on your skull. No sound left your mouth when you came again, shaking. Ransom pulled out and came on your stomach, making the sexiest sounds you've ever heard from a man before.

He fell on your side, calming his breathing. Ransom threw his arm around you and kissed your temple gently.

"We're gonna take a bath and find out a way to tell Emma that we're a thing now". 

You smiled, closing your eyes and hoping he would carry you to that bath, because there's no way you could walk now.

[laele25]

To expound on my rant I began last night

If you refused to vote for Harris, you have doomed Palestine and Ukraine, and possibly eastern Europe. Trump has already said he will give Bibi what he wants and won't stand in Putin's way. He wanted to leave NATO last time, this time no one will stop him from doing it. Then Putin will invade Poland and we get to do war in Europe all over again. Oh goody. Once again, history in America is often taught by gym teachers and that might explain why most of my countrymen don't recognize a fascist regime when it's goosestepping towards them.

There will be no student loan forgiveness. Hell, expect to pay more in interest since you know they'll be trying to claw back the profits they lost during the Covid freeze and Biden's attempt to offer some relief. Kiss the SAVE act good-bye.

And the tariffs. For those of you still suffering under the delusions of 'Republicans are better on the economy', he added 8 trillion to National Debt you all hate so much last time. You think he's not going to give himself and his cronies a bigger tax cut this time? Everything will be more expensive, because rich guys like him exported manufacturing to foreign countries decades ago so they could pay starvation wages. And about that. Don't be surprised if they decrease minimum wage or do away with it completely. But hey, Trump promised to not tax tips. You know, because anybody is going to have any money for anything after prices on essentials like food triple. The Supreme Court is lost unless Biden goes nuclear and expands the court by four people. Which I don't see happening, because Democrats have repeatedly proven they can't learn from their mistakes. They will sit on their hands until January 6th, then surrender because 'peaceful transfer of power'.

You think infrastructure is bad now? Just wait. They're going to build their big, beautiful wall and let everything else crumble to dust while contractors fight for big checks to do minimal work. And for all you people who see Trump as the 'no new wars' president, I need to explain to you something. Congress declares war, not the president. So if the defense contractors aren't making enough money from the genocide of the Palestinians and the war on Ukraine, you can expect American boots be sent somewhere to terrorize some brown or black people for profit. And Trump can't do a thing about it, especially as all our generals hate him. About that. They hate him, they control all the guns and armor and he's tried to disenfranchise them and threatened to order them to murder American citizens. So a military coup is a possibility. This is not a good thing either. Military coups do not have a good history of 'restoring democracy'. And speaking of coups, all the Jan. 6 rioters will be pardoned and probably given medals next year. Expect the day to become a holiday in the Trump Riech where MAGAts walk to the capital to shit all over the democracy we once had again.

Oh and don't forget he promised us the Purge of people protesting him in any way. Can't have a fascist regime without a police state and suppressing of freedoms.

And of course, since he plans to dismantle the department of education and the EPA, so be sure to tell your kids how it was far more important to vote for a doddering old white man who promised to make them rich than for them to have an education or clean air and water.

So, all in all, the American experiment has failed miserably and the world is lucky, we won't drag it down with us. History doesn't bode well there either. Get your vaccines while they're still covered by insurance and available. Get long term birth control or sterilized, because banning birth control is also big on their agenda.

[websterss]

FOOLED — TOM HOLLAND

SUMMARY: Perhaps there’s more than meets the eye. More underneath the surface than pretty faces and rich mobsters.

WARNING(S): Angst, some fluff, mentions of dying, mentions of blood

WORD COUNT: 4,759

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

A/N: Reposting old fics!!! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

“Listen close, and listen well, my dear. Because I am only going to say this once.” You sat up straighter as Josephine began. 

“There is an unruly world that we live in that involves hungry powered men. All seemingly different, yet they desire the same thing. Money, control, sex. You name it.” She walked the space in front of your chair. 

She was a prestigious woman. You could clearly understand why many respected her. She was someone who you admired. She was your mere inspiration if you must. 

“Now these men, they all rise in that higher power status. They got their luxurious houses, the fancy cars, the women that they desire after.” Josephine rolled her eyes at that. “They got it all my dear. When men have it all it becomes an easy target for us to praise them upon.” She paused and cupped your chin. “Tell me, Y/n. Why are women better suited to the con than men?” 

“Cause we’re used to faking it?” You shrugged nonchalantly. Josephine pursed her lips as she became assumed by your answer. 

“Well yes…but not quite what I was looking for.” She shook her finger in a no motion. “It all comes down to one universal truth. No man will ever believe a woman is smarter than he is. We will always be underestimated and that is what we use against them.” 

“So what does this have to do with me?” 

“You, my dear, are the key!” Josephine smiled down at you. 

“The key?” You raised your brow in confusion. “Key to what?” You turned around in your chair as she walked over to her bookshelf. 

“The key to helping me get something of mine back.” Josephine walked over with a binder. She opened it up to a certain page and held it out for you to inspect. “See that my dear?” 

“Yeah…It’s a necklace.” You muttered. 

“This isn’t just any ordinary necklace. This is the ruby red or as they like to call it the Rosette. It is very old and very precious.” Josephine caressed the picture with her hand. 

“It can’t be that old. How much is it even worth?”

“Oh, you know…about eight million.” She brushed it off as if the price was nothing. 

“Excuse me?” You gaped at her. “That’s more than enough to pay off student loans!” You trailed off suddenly feeling down. You only stole what you could conjure at certain times. It paid the bills. 

Tricking and robbing desperate and needy men who were willing to help sort out a money problem of yours just like that. You could never reach the luxury life Josephine revolved around. 

“This is insane…” You looked down at your lap. 

“I didn’t bring you here just to use your gift my dear. Though I must say, you can certainly fool any man like no other.” She chuckled to lighten the mood a bit. “I was impressed by your work. Pure talent might I say.” 

“Yeah, well once you’re left fending for yourself for so long, you tend to pick up a few things.” You muttered. It was quiet for a second then you spoke up again. “This is all I know, Josephine. This is how I provide for myself. It’s not always fun and games for me. Sometimes it’s a necessary cause, even if it may be wrong at times.” You looked at her eyes. 

“You’re special, Y/n.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Believe me, I see something in you that no one else can.” 

“Like what?” 

“Myself.” You slowly turned your head to stare at her. “I see a lot of myself in you. You remind me so much of when I was younger. You got that charm and charisma inside of you. You can do so much good with it. You can do a lot of good for yourself too.” 

“Yeah, right.” You shook your head in disbelief. 

“The only way to go is up, my dear.” Josephine patted your knee, gave you a genuine smile, then walked out the room leaving you to your thoughts. 

What have I gotten myself into? You thought to yourself. 

- 

“What do men want? 

“Boobies. To hit the back door. Wait, no! The front door. It’s either that or a threesome.” You pointed at her with a smirk. You were standing in a massive walk-in closet. Racks holding different styles, different materials as well. “Oh my god this is Gucci!” You picked up a designer handbag. 

“They want to be heroes.” She brushed off your childish answers. “There is nothing more compelling to a man than a vulnerable woman.” She walked over to you and smacked your hand, she took the bag from you. “Focus please and this is Louis Vuitton.” 

“Whatever you say, boss.” You stifled a laugh, then continued going down further into the closet. Eyeing everything you always dreamed of owning. The fanciest thing you owned was a Dolce and Gabbana cocktail dress, and even then you had stolen that. Josephine stopped talking to watch you. You gazed and observed the clothing. You radiated a child-like innocence. There was a twinkle in your eyes as you let your hand trail across each item, each material of fabrics. Josephine couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face. 

“We’ll get to the make-over in a bit, can you please focus now.” Her voice was playful yet serious, letting you know that you had to listen up. “Okay, where was I…” She trailed off. You leaned back into the love seat. 

“What do men want...” You sighed and waited for her to speak again. 

“Ah yes thank you.” She pointed at you with an appreciative smile. “Vulnerability. Nothing compels a man more than a woman who is in distress. For example.” Josephine paused as she feigned upset, her eyes glazing over with tears. She pressed her fingertips to her lips as she shook her head. The sniffles that followed almost made you want to hug her. 

You had to give it to her, it was quite impressive. You slowly clapped for her performance. Josephine wiped away the single tear that was on her eyelid and went back to smiling as she was moments ago. “The more vulnerable you appear the more it will make a man want to cheer you up. They will tend to offer you nice things, and provide comfort. Trust me the more you make yourself look helpless in front of men like these, the more it will help boost their confidence and ego. No matter how big it may appear already.” Josephine rolled her eyes. 

“A man wants to do everything he can to make us, the damsels, happy again.” 

“You think they’ll fall for me?” You eyed her. A bit of doubt and curiosity lingered in the air. 

“He will, my dear.” Josephine eyed you with a smirk. 

“He?” That definitely caught your attention. 

“I think it’s time I inform you about your target.” Josephine walked over to a table that sat at a corner and picked up a manilla folder. She walked over to you and held it out for you to grab. You opened it up and briefly began skimming through the file. 

“Y/n are you ready?” You glanced up from the folder and looked her dead in the eye. 

“Yes.” 

- 

The Annual Holland Gala. A high entailed event, with rich entitled snobs. The more money you had the more important you seemed to others. In your case, you were neither, the play was to appear helpless and in need of chariting. 

Josephine really outdid herself with your look. A Louis Vuitton dress. Red as preferred, for it was the favorite color of your target. There ran a slit down the side of your right thigh. Your hair and makeup were done to the nines. As for your lips, you dawned on a darker red color shade. The heels you wore were killing your feet but damn did you feel great. As for anything else you might have forgotten about, you were feeling amazing. You certainly felt like a million bucks.

However, how you felt about yourself didn’t mask how nervous you were. Josephine had gone over the plan with you multiple times until she was sure you had it in the bag. Although she didn’t doubt for a second that you couldn’t. She knew what you were capable of. That’s why she chose you in the first place.

Your car came to a halt in front of the grand entrance. A set of steps to climb with a black carpet laid over them. It was a nice touch.

You closed your eyes and reminded yourself it was only good thoughts from here on out. A man opened your door and offered his hand to help you out. On your behalf, you were appreciative of the gesture and how chivalry isn’t dead…but realized it was probably his job. People were paid to do this kind of thing, it was normal for the elite society, but it certainly wasn’t for you.

“Thank you.” You smiled gratefully at the man who smiled gently at you. He guided you onto the first step and then let you make your way inside on your own. You were amazed by the number of people who showed up. 

You took a deep breath and walked further into the room. Many men clad in expensive suits drinking away glasses of champagne. Others with their special arm candies at their sides. With each step, your heels clicked on the tile floor. You grabbed a glass off of one of the trays a waiter was walking around with. Quickly downing it as you got it. Once you gulped it all up, you placed the empty glass on a different tray and reached for another one. Liquid courage is what they say, right?

Yet you weren’t too keen on getting full-on wasted. You had a task that needed to see its end. You read the room for a bit, eyeing each and every single man. Hoping you’d see the one you were looking for. You sighed and walked over to the bar. Taking a seat on one of the stools, you ordered a rum and coke to start yourself on. 

- 

Tom leaned against the walls that were in the far corners. His attention focused on his phone. Apart from having to make an appearance at the stupid gala he didn’t want to attend, he was going through one of the biggest deals that could increase his business even more than it already was. 

“Seriously?” Tom’s head swiveled as he saw his blonde friend approach. “Instead of mingling, you’re on your bloody phone, what would your mother say of this?” Harrison shook his head. 

“She’s not here, so she can’t say much.” Tom chuckled as he glanced back down at his phone. 

“Tom…” Harrison stared at his best friend with an unamused expression. “Come on, it’s a party. You promised you’d loosen up tonight.” Harrison crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah…just let me finish this.” Tom brushed him off, continuing to type away. His phone was then snatched out of his hands. He looked annoyed. “Give it.” He motioned. Harrison pocketed the device in his slacks. 

“Nope.” Harrison shook his head. 

“Harrison,” Tom warned him with a smile. 

“Not happening, go enjoy yourself.” He motioned towards the sea of people in the room. Just as he said this the click of a gun became clear to his ears. 

“How about now?” Tom asked with a smirk. 

“Can you not be Tom, the leader of the biggest mob in all of London, for one second?” Harrison didn’t falter as he felt the gun on his abdomen. “You’re a dick ya know.” Harrison rolled his eyes as he gave the phone back to Tom. 

“I know.” Tom laughed as he opened the phone back up. “Seriously, go and ya know…find yourself a pretty girl. Get drunk for all I care, just step away from the business shit for the night.” Harrison patted his shoulder then left to go and join everyone else. 

Tom watched his right-hand man walk away. He looked back down at his messages and frowned. He sighed then pocketed his phone. He pushed himself off the wall and decided to head towards the bar instead. 

- 

Damselled and Distressed. 

The words echoed in your head. Just as you were about to pay the bartender for the drink a body slid onto the stool right next to yours. In the corner of your eyes, you noticed a hint of brown curls. 

“Can I get a pale ale, thanks.” The man nodded and went down to the bar to retrieve his drink. The bartender popped the lid off the beer and handed it over to the person next to you. He was quick to tip the bartender a generous amount. The guy with his now paid beer turned around in his seat to look at the crowd of people. His back was to the bar. The bartender then looked at you expectantly. 

“The drinks don’t come free, miss.” He chuckled lightly. 

“Well of course not.” You chuckled along with him. You smiled then pulled out your handbag to get your money. You furrowed your brows for show and you moved things around. “Uh…” You lightly looked up to the bartender with an uneasy smile. “Just give me a second.” You frantically started taking things out of your bag. “My money’s gone!” You panic. “I must’ve left my cash on my nightstand.” You frowned. You accepted the fact that you couldn’t pay and nodded towards the bartender to take your drink. 

The bartender nodded slowly and right as he was reaching out for the glass. A few bills of cash were placed in front of you and the bartender. Your eyes followed the arm that was extended out with the cash up to the face of your savior. 

“It’s on me, love.” The melodious voice was music to your ears. He threw you a dazzling smile, one that seemed to reach his eyes. “I believe the lady would love her drink back.” He said to the bartender. 

The guy nodded at him and placed your glass back down. The bartender grabbed the bills getting ready to hand a few of them back. 

“Keep it.” The man next to you put his hand up. A smile and a simple thank you followed suit. 

“Thank you.” You smiled at the man. “My hero.” You giggled. 

“Don’t mention it, love.” He turned and took a sip of his beer. You furrowed your brows as you thought he’d want to keep the conversation going. You caressed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Quite the party huh?” You began half-heartedly laughing. 

“Not quite my scene.” 

“And why is that? Too many snobby rich folks for you to handle?” As you said that a small smile peaked its way onto his lips. You had him right where you wanted. 

“I’m Tom.” He smiled at you and extended his hand out for you to shake. You placed yours in his. 

“Y/n.” 

“Beautiful name, love.” Heat rose to your cheeks. You looked up and noticed how his attention was solemnly on you now. You were really in for it tonight. 

“So Y/n.” He smiled. “What brings you here?” 

“Well… same as everyone else.” You said seriously. You paused then continued. “Free drinks.” You giggled when he chuckled too. “Well, not so free drinks.” You lifted your glass to your lips and took a sip. “Thank you again.” Tom tipped his glass to you. He eyed you carefully as you drank from your drink. Not a sign of realization crossing your face. Surely you must’ve known who he was. The only reason many of these rich snobs showed up was because of him. 

They knew of him or knew him personally, yet they were all afraid of him. If you were here because of the same reasons as everyone else then surely you were here because you knew who he was. Then again it was rare to meet someone who didn’t know about him or the work he did. He had to admit he was happy. No worries of having someone throw hate or judgment towards him. Not having to protect another person he cared about. 

“Getting off track there Y/n, dear.” The com in your left ear spoke. You cleared your throat a bit and focused on the matter in front of you. 

“Wanna go somewhere…quieter?” You let out a small breathy laugh, acting like you were nervous. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” He smiled gratefully wanting to get away from the massive amount of human bodies whose pockets were filled with too much, but not as much as he had though. Harrison caught sight of the two of you and found Tom’s eye. Tom simply nodded his head. An unspoken conversation happening between the two. Harrison then turned back around and spoke in his earpiece.

- 

You and Tom walked up the stairs in step with each other as you reached the end of the marvelous hallway. You couldn’t help but smile. As much as you enjoyed the peace and quiet, you felt guilty for trying to rob him. 

“Here we are!” Tom opened a door to one room and let you enter first. Once he turned on the lights, you were greeted with a bedroom, larger than you’ve ever seen. 

“It’s lovely.” You looked over your shoulder as you made your way to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Glad you think so.” Tom stripped off his jacket and draped it over one of the chairs on the corner. He uncuffed his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves to his arms. He then walked to you. You stared at him wondering what he was doing. You felt your heart skip when he kneeled in front of you. You felt his hand travel up your right slit. 

“T-Tom?” You protested but he interrupted you by placing a finger to his lips shaking his head. He was telling you to be quiet, then he surprised you by leaning forward and brushing your hair behind your left ear. He took the earpiece out of your ear and turned it off. You swallowed nervously. He kept a calm and steady composure, and that honestly scared you more than anything. 

“Good now she can’t hear us! You almost fooled me there, darling.” He chuckled but his voice then grew dark and lower. “How stupid do you think I am?” He cocked his head to the side as he was towering over you. He had finally stood up and placed his hands on either side of you. 

“I don’t-” Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you felt his hand run up your right leg and through the slit, right where your gun rested very closely to your core. He kept his eyes directly on yours as he slowly removed his hand that now held your gun. He then observed the gun then clocked it. You were surely done for at that moment. “How many rounds?” He kept aiming the gun past you. 

“Twelve.” You gulped. At this point, you were dreading everything. “You’re going to kill me aren’t you?” You shed a tear as you shrunk down. Tom stopped what he was doing, and stared at you for a moment. He took a seat next to you and wiped another tear from your cheek. He smiled. He smiled at you and for once you felt like he truly meant it this time. 

“No. At least not you of course.” He caressed your hair behind your ear. “It was Josephine in your ear, wasn’t it, love? She involved you in her messy business, huh?” He whispered. A sad given smile made its way onto his lips. Your silence and more tears being shed gave him his answer. “She has the tendency to break even the most innocent souls. Guess you were her next girl.” Tom avoided your gaze and brought his hand up to yours. You began to protest. 

“Josephine wouldn’t-” 

“Wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t betray you after you gave her your trust. After all she’s done for you, right?” Tom stood up and spoke out your thoughts. 

“She-” You muttered. 

“Did she promise you anything?” You kept quiet. “Perhaps a luxurious life? There is a reason as to why she picked you, I’m assuming.” He observed you. “Did she say you were special?” He waited and then you picked your head up to look at him. “There it is!” He muttered softly. “She made you feel like you were important to her.” 

“I thought-” 

“You thought if you did this one thing for her, she would be proud of you. Tell me Y/n, what was it she wanted you to steal?” You stared at him for a moment then stuttered. 

“The Rosette.” Tom’s shoulders stiffened. 

“My mother’s necklace.” He said. 

“Tom, I’m so sorry.” 

“You couldn’t have known love. At least you’re safe now.” 

“Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.” You finally stood up. 

“This isn’t the first time Josephine has intervened in my life, darling. You weren’t the first girl she’s fooled and tricked. The only difference between you and the first girl is that you’re still alive…” He trailed off. 

“What are you–was she–was she going to kill me after this?” You looked at him scared and bewildered. “Oh…Oh my god!” Your knees gave out and Tom barely caught you in time before you hit the floor. 

“Hey look at me, my men are taking care of her, okay, she’s not going to get the chance okay. I promise. I’m not letting someone else die because of that woman!” Just as he said this, multiple bangs and shots echoed through the bedroom door, out into the hallways. Tom helped you up and stared at the door. He looked around and came up with a quick plan. 

“Do you trust me?” He held your arms and stared into your eyes. You nodded yes. He led you over to the window and you tugged at his arms immediately. “Darling, please trust me.” He pleaded. 

“I do.” You whispered as more tears shed from your eyes. 

“Come on now.” You took your heels off and got on the ledge. You gasped as you noticed how high up you were. 

“There you go.” Tom looked over his shoulder, the gunshots still going. “Alright, Y/n I need you to make it to that far corner, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

“Y-Yes.” You breathed out. trying to lean against the side of the walls as much as you could. 

“Nothing will happen to you okay, just keep going.” You nodded and slowly kept walking across the ledge. Tom closed the window and hid your heels by opening the vent on the floor and tossing them in there. Just in time for him to steady his composure and pretend he was looking out the window. The door to the bedroom was kicked open and non-other than Josephine walked in. Gun pointed at the mobster. 

“Josephine.” Tom with a monotone expression. 

“Thomas, where is she?” 

“Who?” 

“I don’t have time for games, where is she?” 

“Did you seriously have to come in guns blazing?” He averted her question. 

“Unless you want a bullet between those gorgeous brown eyes of yours, I suggest you speak.” She smiled sweetly.

“I don’t take orders from you darling.” Tom stared at her amused. 

“Eve took my orders well.” His shoulder stiffened. Josephine smirked knowing full well that did the trick. 

“Shut up.” He warned. 

“Or what, you’ll hurt me.” She laughed. “You won’t.” She tempted him. Tom didn’t hesitate to raise his gun and shoot her in the shoulder. The shot caused her to stumble back and fall. 

“You just shot me!” 

“You said I wouldn’t. You know better that to test me.” He shrugged nonchalantly. Josephine only laughed and smiled through the pain. 

“She’s on the ledge isn’t she?” She pointed at him. Tom almost let his composure slip. 

“What makes you assume so?” He tilted his head. 

“For one that’s her gun, and two her earpiece is on the bed.” She smirked. Tom silently cursed at himself. 

“You’re not going to get to her, Josephine.” Tom stood protective over the window 

“Trying to make up for the loss of your girl by saving another one? This isn’t going to bring Eve back. A bullet to the skull can cause some serious brain damage. Let alone kill someone instantly.” She chuckled. “Remember that?” 

“Everyday.” He admitted. 

“Good.” She shot him in the lower abdomen and walked over to the window. Tom fell and clutched his now bleeding wound. She opened it up and right as she stuck her head out, you had rounded the corner just like Tom asked you to. You were nowhere in sight for Josephine to see you. Josephine cursed out loud and looked back at Tom. 

“Oh sweetie, cheer up, this is what you’ve been waiting for! You finally get to be with Eve.” She patted his cheek and left the room passing all the bodies of his dead men. This isn’t at all what he wanted. He waited a couple seconds then pushed himself to get up and struggled. He maneuvered over to the window and called out your name. 

“Y/n!” He rasped out as loud as he could. You peered around the corner and saw him. You sighed and slowly made your way back to the window. It took you a few minutes, but it wasn’t as bad. Once you reached the window Tom immediately pulled you in and closed it. He wrapped his arms around you. His back facing the closed window and yours facing the door. You pulled apart and smiled gently at him. He brought a hand up to cup your cheek, red tainting your skin from his wounds. He winced, knees buckling as he fell. You held him upright as best as you could.

“T-Tom?” You gasped when you finally noticed his bloody shirt. “Oh my god!” You cried out as you tried setting him down gently. You lowered him on the floor into a sitting position with his legs sprawled out. You kneeled right in front of him putting as much pressure as you could to his wound. He groaned out in pain. 

“I have to put pressure on it, okay? Just stay with me Tom, stay with-” You whined. Two shots that rang out before Tom realized what was wrong. Your mouth opened ajar. Your hands on Tom’s abdomen eased up with the pressure. You slowly glanced down seeing the two wounds begin to release blood from your stomach. The blood made your dress appear even darker than it already was. Tom had followed your eyes and cried out as he saw your two gunshot wounds. 

“N-No…” He croaked out as tears formed in his eyes. A broken sob emitting past his lips. 

“Tom...” You whined then slowly felt forward on top of his lap. Your head hitting his chest. Another three shots rang out which had him closing his eyes and flinching. He heard a body hit the floor and opened his eyes. There in front of him stood Harrison towering over a dead Josephine. He lowered his gun and hurried over to the two of you. Tom broke down then and there. 

“Help her, please!” He pleaded and cried out. He raised one of his hands cupping your face delicately. Your eyes were closed. “Y/n?” He gently nudged you. You didn’t even flinch. He cried. Never in his life has Harrison seen Tom like this. It broke his heart watching him break like this. Harrison checks you for a pulse but never finds one. He closes his eyes and lets a tear roll down his cheek. He had seen many things working for Tom, but this may have topped it all. Tom stared down at you, every ache in his body going numb.

“I promised. I promised her, Harrison.” He whined. “I can’t save anyone.” He closed his eyes as he held you tightly against his chest. “I couldn’t protect her…” He whispered. He inhaled deeply then slowly but surely let out his final breath of air. Tom grips on you released, and Harrison sheds another few tears as he watches his best friend’s head lop to the side. 

“Tom? Tom!”

[toomuchsky]

got a new car. having a lot of feelings abt it that i’m journaling abt on tumblr instead of processing internally. (lots of very privileged Big Money Feelings fair warning) but also look at him. momo. 🥹🥹🥹

basically after the insane amt of car troubles the last car gave me and the extra 4k it was asking from me in repairs, my dad finally was like “can you let me help you” and offered to help me buy out the loan on appa. one contingency was that i had to buy a new car, not anything used. so my car payment basically more than doubled, but i do have a car now that can take me from point a to point b and will hopefully ! not break down on me anytime soon. (with my luck tho who knows). i also still have the credit card debt from the engine but he was like “do your best to pay it off but if there is a difference at the end of the 0% apr period well see what i can help with”

i’m having! weird feelings abt it! lots of shame around having to accept money from my parents, lots of guilt around having parents that can afford to do this, also a lot of like. relief right?? i have a car that works! and he’s cute!

but also new cars freak me out dude. cars should all be dumber in my opinion. why is there an ipad on a vehicle that i can also drive at 90mph??? why is it yelling at me to brake leave me alone let me brake on my own terms!!! and every single thing is electronics. and they break so often and are so expensive to fix!! and everything these days is built to break!!! it makes me so mad and angry!!!!

but also on the other hand! i feel like i understand every single rich person neuroses now. every single speck of dust on this car is tantamount to a dent on another car. if i even scratch this car i’ll be so sad bc it’s NEW! she has 10 MILES ON HER. and there’s too many features!!! how am i supposed to learn them all!! feeling very old man yells at cloud abt it all!!! like normally i am also very generous with my car! i’ll let people drive it i don’t care etc but with this one i’m feeling extremely like don’t even breathe on him actually please don’t even look in his direction. like i’m feeling insane. u know that monopoly study they do where people become more stingy the richer they get. that’s how i’m feeling.

also having some feelings about what a new car like this looks like to people idk. like what will people perceive me as???? like this wasn’t my choice!!! tbf the car market is still insane and even a slightly used car would be abt the same price tbh but. feeling like i need to process these feelings with everyone so that no one judges me for having a new car or feels weird abt my parents having the ability and willingness to help me out here. like i understand this is mostly projection bc IM feeling weird about it and wealth (lol at the thought of wealth. i’m like 40k in debt not including student loans at 29 which feels insane.) and all that but.

he’s smaller than a lot of the suv’s i’ve had before but honestly probably enough size!!!! also the car payment is so much and idk how i’m gonna afford it for 6 years. i love him so much i can’t wait to go on a million road trips now that i can trust my car won’t break down on me in the middle of the road AGAIN. i also wanna throw up whenever i look at him. i love feeling safe and cozy and playing with all the new features. if it gives me a lane warning again i’ll blow it up myself.

dualities man. here we are.

[campto]

Piggification Stage 1: Shock and Denial

The first indication Brenda had that she had maybe partied too hard last night was when she opened her eyes and found herself staring right into a pig's asshole.

Oh crap! She thought. What the hell did I do last night?

And then it came back in a flash.

She had gone out bar hopping with her roommates. Around 1 am or so Sondra and Debbie had pooped out and were ready to call it a night, but Brenda wanted to keep going.

"See you tomorrow," Sondra had said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

The reason Brenda needed to keep going was that her share of the rent was due in two days, and she had no money to pay it. The roomies had let her slide the last couple of months, but they made it clear she had to cough it up soon. OK. She had a plan.

She knew of a bar close by where the clientele were always looking for women who were… let's say… up for new experiences. And were willing to pay them.

Brenda hated to resort to such tactics, but she was up against the wall, and being… well… a bit chunky and plain, she knew she had little chance to land a rich fella.

The joint had been jumping that night, and Brenda immediately saw her mark.

A very distinguished, bearded man in late middle age; she could tell he had money and education as soon as she saw him. What the hell was he doing here? Either one of three things.

1. He was newly widowed. 2. He was newly divorced. 3. He was into stuff that the wife wouldn't do on a bet.

As she was pondering the possibilities, and wondering how she might introduce herself, he spotted her. And their eyes locked.

"Come over here, my dear! Let me buy you a drink." he said.

"Sure thing!" This was going to be easier than she hoped.

"I feel like celebrating. How about some champagne?"

"S..sure! Sounds good to me!"

"Barkeep, a Magnum of Cristal, if you please!"

"Excellent choice, Sir! Right away!"

Brenda was too shocked by how well this was going already to catch a quick look from the bartender toward her new friend.

"Let me introduce myself, my dear. My name is Moreau. Doctor Moreau."

"Why, HELLO, Doctor! I'm Brenda!" Brenda offered her hand. He KISSED it! WOW! She had a LIVE one! If she played her cards right, this guy might not only pay her rent, he might pay off her student loans!

"What brings you to a place like THIS, Doctor?" she had to know.

"Well, my dear, it's simple. I have a penchant for dating… ahem… LARGER ladies, you might say. And that isn't really done in my social circles. It's RIDICULOUS, but that's how things are. I'm sorry if I offended you. You look LOVELY to me."

"Oh… I know how that goes," said Brenda. And she did. This wouldn't be the first chubby chaser she had hooked up with. But he looked like the RICHEST.

"Please! Have some champagne! I have a feeling this will be a magic night for us!"

Oh, HELL Brenda thought. If he's buying…

The rest of the night was sort of a blur. From the way her head was throbbing, she had been roofied at some point in the evening. She knew enough to keep an eye on her drink, but looking back, that bartender had been a bit dodgy. Drugging her didn't seem to make any sense, though. She had sent out every signal that she was ready to put out that night.

WOW! That stuff must have been POWERFUL! Her whole BODY felt funny… like she couldn't move it right…

"Good MORNING, my dear! I see you're AWAKE! SPLENDID! We have much to DISCUSS!"

Brenda tried to answer him, but couldn't seem to find her voice. What the hell did they DOPE her with, anyway?"

"Oh, don't try to talk YET, Dear. Everything will be clear to you shortly!

"Firstly, you may wonder why you are lying in a PIGSTY. Did we maybe get up to some kinky role-play last night? The answer is no. We didn't 'do the nasty,' as you youngsters say. I did, however, take the liberty of doing some… er… reconstructive SURGERY on you… to render you more appealing to a man of my… discerning tastes."

What the F__K!? What kind of psycho did I hook up with? thought Brenda, with a rapidly increasing sense of dread.

"The reason you are in a pigsty is simple, my dear Brenda. You are now a PIG."

Okay, this is too weird, thought Brenda. This guy is DEFINITELY not playing with a full deck. I've got to LEAVE. NOW.

Wait. Why can't I stand up?

"Why can't you stand up? you might be thinking. But, my sweet, pretty sow, you ARE standing up! On four lovely, sturdy legs! Just THINK! No more backaches! No more chances of tripping and falling down! You will live a life of luxury in my barn for the rest of your life!"

No. This is not happening. I'm having a nightmare… a hallucination… this guy's hypnotized me… there has to be a logical explanation.

"I see you still don't believe me! I don't blame you. They never do. It's a lot to process. Well, I guess you have to see for yourself. Here's a mirror. Have a look at yourself.

Brenda was puzzled. There was nothing reflected in that mirror but PIGS. One in particular was looking right AT her. Funny. It had a snout… pointy pig ears… but… it had human hair. Like hers. And human EYES. That looked like hers. That… blinked when she blinked. The pig's mouth opened stupidly…

"That is YOU, my dear. In all your glory! From this day on, that is YOU!"

No. NO. NO! It's a trick mirror! That can't be ME! It's not POSSIBLE!

"Oh, it's not the MIRROR," said Moreau, knowing her thoughts. "Take a look at your new little TROTTERS! You'll be scampering along on them through the straw and the mud in NO time!"

And Brenda looked down her snout (her SNOUT?) to see two stubby little legs where her arms should have been. With trotters on the end. Scrabbling in the dirt and straw.

At this point Moreau had maneuvered her so she was standing in front of another mirror, which she could see reflected in the first mirror.

She had two more stubby legs in back. And a big, round pig's ass. With a curly little tail.

"Your TAIL is the CUTEST, don't you think? I must say I've outdone myself with you, Brenda! Oh, well have WONDERFUL times together, you and me! You'll see! You'll come to LOVE it!"

NO! I've got to get HELP! Brenda thought. I've… I've got to… to SCREAM! NOW!

"WREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!"

And then Brenda knew. It was real. It was happening. She had just squealed like a.. pig. She WAS... a… pig.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

[containatrocity]

the prodigial son and only heir to the Chiyoda tech fortune, some claim Silas Chiyoda is something of a messiah, beckoning in a new era of tech advancement and a future something like a utopia- the Japan-Born Silicon Valley transplant claims he's a herald- but not of a golden age.

Cover Story By Milena Corbin, November 2018

It's a clean white mansion that greets the taxi that drops me off, modern and sleek with a family crest emblazoned on the gates. It's one of the many summer homes of Aoi Chiyoda, the owner and figurehead of tech powerhouse Chi-Hyu Technology, but it's not the 48 year old CEO and mastermind that I'm here to meet, and that much is made clear when my interviewee steps out of the house. He is asynchronous to the house that built him, dressed in black from head to toe with long dark hair pulled into a bun, struck through with pins bearing the visages of Japanese fox spirits, matching the dragons and koi swirling across his arms. Where Aoi demanded sleek, clean, chrome lines and white, granite blocks, his son perhaps has embraced the visual context of being a black sheep- something that tabloids have painted his history with since the now 22 year old was little more than a child.

A recluse of few words outside of parties and public appearances, Silas Chiyoda's position as a 'nepotism baby' is one he's acknowledged time and again, his vehement refusal to be someone people look up to often punctuated by lengthy, angry tirades on twitter- and typically- refusal to speak with the press. But today, he motions for me to follow him inside, past perfect marble floors and gold-inlaid furniture, to something that more correctly fits the man himself.

He makes himself at home in a beanbag chair under blacklight and neon, a bay of computers and monitors spread across one wall- a pile of schematics that he quickly hides on an opposite desk. It's only after the mouthpiece of a hookah pipe is hooked into the corner of his mouth that he allows me to speak to him at all, motioning one ring clad, dark-painted set of fingers as if to encourage me to 'get on with it'.

"I'd like to thank you, Mr. Chiyoda for taking the time out of your day to speak with us, from what I understand, you don't tend to like to speak to the press."

"I don't like to talk to tabloids. Given that you're here to talk about my work, I can make exceptions- I'm only 'famous' because of who my mother is, only rich because of my father. This focuses on the things I do that I actually care about."

"Yes, you and your father recently collaborated on an updated chipset for phones and computers that allows for more seamless communication between multiple devices, was this something important for you to achieve within the current space for smart devices?"

"Collaborated is quite the word for it- but yes, the chip I designed and we're seeking production on is intended to be upgradable for several years, eliminating a substantial amount of tech-waste in the industry, and allowing for less incidents with the strangely... quick obsolescence that comes from a lot of companies today- iPhone, Android, Windows- they'll all be using some form of our architecture, which will allow repair shops to work in a more comfortable, less proprietary space. A phone a year isn't sustainable for most people- this slows down the feeling that one has to update the moment a new piece of hardware releases, and simply requires a replacement chip."

"You seem very passionate about this, was it your father who got you invested in technology?"

"My father named me after his first ever operating system, the NEON. It was less that he shared an interest with me, and more that it was the one way to get him to pay any attention to me- now, of course, the eyes on me tend to be pretty set on watching me fuck up, including my father's- but I'm still rich, I'm still a genius, and most of my detractors will die drowning in student loan debt or forgotten by the annuls of time. Bad press is press nonetheless, and in some part I'm thankful for the distraction from my actual work, it's allowed me to kinda, control where my ideas and innovation go without people trying to throw money to me to make it theirs and theirs alone."

"So you want this to be available to as many people as possible?"

"I want my work to bury the bullshit that society's been barreling toward. Planned obsolescence, government surveillance, copyright claims burying hobbyists alive. I want to do one thing that slows the cogs down before the teeth tear themselves off and leave us grinding to a halt. Innovating only for the sake of money is destroying the planet, our rights to privacy, our ability to create- People insist that what my father does is the future, the way he pushes out the next big thing every quarter for another drop in the billion dollar bucket. I want it slowed down. We should perfect what we understand before inviting more ghosts into the system."

"So this isn't about reaching for the future for you, but suspending things in the now a little longer?"

"Think about it this way. Everyone who's ever lined up to kiss my ass on social media thinks I'm some kind of wizard, some cave-dweller with a thousand-point IQ and the ability to grant their wishes, but these assholes don't need an AI girlfriend who can interface with their smart kitchen, they need to get off their asses and learn a fucking skill for once in their lives. We are so hell bent on getting to the 'utopian future' that we've been promised we're ignoring the way we're sliding toward the other option. There are weaknesses in every system, and the more we try to make new systems, the more gaping holes are left behind- this is a bandaid on the hull of a sinking ship, and as soon as it comes crumbling down, the only people who are gonna take the blame are the people who don't deserve it. So let me state this simply: when we hit the point that makes Y2K's fearmongering look pitiful in comparison, it'll be on the head of my contemporaries, my father, and his boardroom of yes men. But not me. And not the people who inevitably work out how to hack your car, when you buy the Night Rider the second she rolls off the lot."

He's harsh and set in his ways, and the way he talks about technology, not like a blessing but a devil deal he's made and is now struggling to understand, is commonplace in his few public speaking appearances- something that's likely led to his father keeping his connection to Chi-Hyu rather hush hush- or his volatile public image, fraught with arrests, addiction, cycles in rehab, and highly publicized feuds with former girlfriends- many of them famous in their own regard, most recently seen paired off with the lead actress of Blood Ties- only to be arrested at her LA apartment after a domestic dispute ended in shots fired- Keeping him behind the scenes of a company reliant on the clinical white image of the mansion he's chosen to take this interview in. His stipulations for agreeing, of course, that I couldn't ask about the cycle of arrests and bail outs, about the girlfriends met in rehab easily twice his age- about his public fight with his father, the purple-gray scar on the side of his neck already covered up with a new tattoo of Eve's hands reaching for the apple of knowledge.

"Many people have stated that your father is going to usher in a golden era, technology pushed to its limits, it sounds a lot like you aren't in agreement."

"What good's a golden era for only the 1%? I could press a button and have a german sports car delivered to my garage. There are people on the sidewalks outside the high-end clothing stores I buy my wardrobe from begging for change to afford dinner, much less a house. We revolutionize. Fine. Surveillance will go to the richest. Corrupt industries will corrupt further, squeeze tighter for another drop of blood from a stone. My Father's a herald of something, but it's not a promised land. I'm a horseman of the apocalypse, a trumpeter signaling the end times, and nobody'll heed those warnings until it's too late- because for now I'm flashy and exciting, and my hard work gets you into a game of candy crush sooner. The future is now, you know? But it's gonna be a lot more Hal 9000 than people are willing to accept- my greatest sin is being honest about what me and all these other tech bro douchebags are up to- and being too smart for them to force me out of their boys clubs."

[donnabroadway]

Soul Sisters

We open to a dimly lit non descript room in a non descript building in Washington, DC. There is a young woman, in her mid-late 30s and another woman of the same age. The first woman is blonde and wearing an oversized sweater, leggings, and over worn black ugg boots. The second woman, with dyed reddish brown hair is more polished and wearing a black suit with a white shirt, short manicured nails and red lipstick. They have been having a back and forth for 15 minutes.

"Take the money,"

Take the money?

Always, take the money. If anyone

I’m not for sale.

The second woman laughs.

You think that makes you special. The fact you're sitting here in over $50,000 worth of credit card debt, $75,000 in student loans, you're nearly 40 and you don't have a pot to piss in or a winder to throw it out of and you've been going on any Youtube or TikTok blogger you can find to try to embarrass this family and somehow you're the moral authority over anything. You can not be for sale but no one cares that you've stood your ground when you're homeless and no one cares. (she pulls out her phone) They're already starting to turn on you in the comments and ask questions. It's only a matter of time. Take the money. Start a new life, pay for your wedding, put a down payment on a house, start a charity. I don't care. Take the money. My offer expires in 24 hours.

No.

No?

No.

You're making a big mistake. (she starts to gather her papers and puts a pen in her purse using her well manicured finger)

You're the worst kind of woman.

Excuse me. I am trying to help you here. Sign the NDA and take the money but you want to give me lectures.

You are supposed to help me. Believe all women but they send you, a woman and not only that, a woman of color to give me hush money and silence me.

(She sits back down)

Would you prefer I was white?

I prefer you use your power for good and not to hurt women and silence them.

Three times.

What?

Three times. I was 12, 15, and 17. Three times. The amount of times my stepfather took me to the clinic to "take care of things" before I started to show because he didn't want my mother to find out because he never had a job and my mother, a brilliant, yet stupid woman, was supporting a grown man and three kids on a nurses salary while he blamed "the man" for never having a job, yet he could stay home and find the time to rape his stepdaughter. Three times I sat alone in the clinic getting his seed scrapped out of me and every single time some nurse lectured me on being smarter and how no man would want me if I kept getting pregnant and three times I went home and said nothing. And you know what my reward for getting raped consistently from the time I was 11 until that last time when I just didn't go home after he "forgot" to pick me up from the clinic because he forgot he had to get my mother from work because they could only afford one car because he wouldn't get a job. (silence) I certainly wasn't offered $2.5 million to be quiet. I got scar tissue and an incompetent cervix. You wanna know the irony. Three miscarriages all after 21 weeks. The sickness goes away, I can eat what I want, I finally start to get fat, start to show, and then the blood comes and I go into labor and I go home every single time without a baby. And you know what the doctor tells me? Go home and try again? Why? To have a fourth miscarriage. So, I'm here because surrogates are expensive and rich people pay a lot for cleaners and honestly, I don't care enough about overgrown frat boys, scorned mistresses, forgotten children, or disgraced councilmen trying to go to the press and I certainly don't care about your social justice warrior stance. We're not soul sisters. You're almost as stupid as my mother, who, by the way posts three times a year on Facebook on Mother's Day, Christmas, and my birthday about how you make so many sacrifices for your kids and they have the nerve to be weak and ungrateful and how her reward is in heaven because God knows her heart. And she's still with the same man, the one who has never had a job in the 25 years they've been married, liking her posts and giving her encouragement. You think you know me but you don't. Take the money, don't take the money. I don't care. Just know that once I walk out of here, I will still get paid and you will have nothing except your ill placed pride because Brinston's have an entire file on you dating from 2005 and are prepared to destroy your life in ways you could never imagine.

Okay.

Okay. what?

I'll sign it.

(she pushes a paper in front of her with a pen and the woman takes the pen and signs it in blue ink) the NDA (she points to a second line and the woman across the table signs it in black ink)

Is that it?

She gives her $50,000 in $100 bills and two plane tickets to Paris.

What’s this?

A down payment. Get out of here. Lay low for a few days. The rest of your money will be in your account in the morning. If you even as much answer an email from anyone except me or a representative from the Brinston's, the contents of this file will be released and every part of this contract, except the NDA will be voided and you will have 24 hours to return all the money or we will sue you. (She puts the paper in her folder) Have a nice day, Ms. Sullivan.

[hcneymilkks]

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI PLS

timeskip!

Sugardaddy! Kokonoi treating you out to a fancy restaurant with wine and a view of the city. He's gifted you with the sold out item you wanted, kissing your hands and saying you deserve the best treatment. Cue the same city skyline you see as you arch your back and grip the sheets as he fucks into you so well. Clothes and bags thrown all over the floor. Fuck it, he'll even fuck you from behind on your knees facing the balcony.

The next morning he's all domestic, kissing your forehead and making you coffee, smugly looking at all the marks he's given. Eyes going up and down and you know he's going for another round.

[holylulusworld]

Forbidden Lust - Kinktober 5

Summary: Your stepmother is the worst. But her fiancè is worth your time.

Rating: Explicit

Kinktober Special: homewrecker kink

Square filled Square 7 for @anyfandomkinkbingo​: Office Sex

Pairing: Stepdad(CEO)!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: cheating, angst, jealousy, awful stepmother, sexual tension, smut, unprotected sex, quickie, kinda stepcest (they are not related by blood), dirty talk, possessive Bucky, homewrecker kink

A/N: Please be aware of the warnings. This kink is not for everyone. Also, there is more plot than expected.

Words: 2,3 k

Kinktober 2022

AFG KINK BINGO masterlist

“Another one?” you ask the blonde eyeing your colleague up and down. He dips his head as you clear your throat to get his attention. “Do you want another drink? You know, my colleague is not on the menu.”

“Engagement parties, I hate them,” he turns his back on the people at the party to look at you. “So, you’re working here or-“

“What does it look like? I’m not here to get a massage,” rolling your eyes you turn around to get a new bottle of whiskey. “Do you want another drink or not?”

“Why would anyone celebrate their engagement at a bar?” 

“How shall I know?” you shrug. “I’m just trying to do my job and go home when my shift is over. If you want to know why she came here to celebrate her engagement, ask my stepmother.”

“Stepmother?” that picked the man’s interest. “The bride is your mother?”

“Stepmother,” you correct. “I haven’t seen her since my dad’s burial. No, wait. It was right after the lawyer read the will of my father.”

“Why are you working at a bar if your dad was…rich?”

“Well, she got all of his money, the company, and the house. I didn’t want his money or shit, it just hurts that he didn’t think of me at all,” while you wipe the counter, the man frowns deeply. 

“That’s shit.”

“That’s life. She spread her legs for my father for three years and gets everything. I was his daughter all my life and must work three jobs to pay back my student loan. English literature, what a waste of time.”

“Not to me,” he offers. “Uh-name’s Steve. Steve Rogers.”

While the man in front of you holds out his hand, you look around the crowded bar to watch your stepmother get cozy with her newest conquest. Another wealthy man. 

“Y/N be a darling and make some more drinks for my friends,” your hands ball into fists when your stepmother steps toward the bar counter. She batts her eyelashes and purses her lips. “And hurry up. They are not some of your little friends, living on beer and cheap food.”

“Dot,” your stepmother’s fiancé joins her and the blonde at the bar counter. “Do we get more drinks soon or-?” he licks his lips as his eyes land on you. “Steve, I wanted you to get more drinks, not flirt with the bartender.”

You eye the man up and down. He’s wearing a dark blue suit and matching tie. His polished shoes cost more than all of your shoes, and you are fairly sure, he’s wearing even more expensive underwear.

His blue eyes drop to the drink in the blonde’s hand. “I’m thirsty. Bartender, be a doll and give me one of these too.”

He flashes you a smile, making his blue eyes sparkle. You bet he’s the kind of guy always getting his way only by smiling at people. Not tonight.

“Sorry, my shift is over,” you drop the towel onto the counter. “You can wait for my colleague, or, how about you ask my beloved stepmother? She was a waitress before she met my dad and got her greedy hands on his money.”

“She was joking, Jamie. Y/N is just jealous I found love again,” she stammers. “I never was a waitress.”

“Of course, love,” Bucky sighs as he watches you storm toward the back of the bar. “Maybe she just needs time to adjust. We could invite her for dinner.”

“Buck, I’m getting a terrible headache. I’ll find my way out,” the blonde says.

“Steve, wait,” Bucky watches his best friend and best man leave the bar. He knows Steve doesn’t like Dot. “Come on. Don’t be like that.”

“Do you,” Steve turns around to whisper in Bucky’s ear, “know anything about your soon-to-be wife but how she sucks your cock? Did you know that she got all the money, the house, and shit from her latest husband? Did you know that his daughter must work three jobs to get around?”

A week later, the bar you are working at…

“We are closed,” you jerk your head toward the door. “Go to one of those fancy clubs you are used to. We have nothing to offer here.”

“My friend Steve told me you were a good host,” Bucky plops down onto one of the bar stools and flashes you a smile. “Can I have a drink too? Last time you left me hanging.”

You take a moment to drink him in. He’s all casual today, wearing a Henley and jeans. God, he’s gorgeous. That bastard got it all. The looks. The smile. The eyes. 

If only he didn’t want to marry the woman you hate the most. 

“Why are you here?” you sigh. “I got a lot of work to do and got no time for Dot’s nonsense, or yours.”

“You don’t like your stepmother much, but she wants you to come to our wedding,” you sneer at his words. “Please don’t make this any harder for her.”

“I rather let someone stab me with a rusty knife.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Maybe you should ask her,” you turn around to get a glass for Bucky. “She came into our lives. Three years later my father dies in an accident and his lawyer tells me and his brother that he left everything to Dot. Even the company he built with his brother.”

“He loved her.”

You huff.

“Doll don’t be mad at your stepmother for things happening in the past. You should try to move on. Both of you.”

“I tried,” you slam the glass onto the counter. “She forced me to leave my home. I tried to stay away from her, while my uncle still fights her. He tries to get the company back. I gave up a long time ago.”

He looks surprised.

“She is the one not leaving me alone. Whenever she gets the chance to, she rubs salt into my wounds. Like last week. She didn’t have to rent the whole bar to celebrate her engagement party here. It was to show me she got another wealthy guy into her clutches.”

“Dot is not like that,” you roll your eyes. Of course, Bucky cannot see the ugly monster behind her pretty façade. Dot is a master at manipulating and gaslighting people.

“Believe whatever you want. Just keep me out of this shit. Dot got all she ever wanted from me and my family. I got nothing else to offer.”

You pour Bucky a drink. “That’s the first and last drink you will ever get from me. Don’t come back here.”

Another month later, the car dealer you are working at…

“Not again.”

You can’t believe Bucky followed you to your second job. He looks at the cars, scrunching up his nose. “Hello, doll. I’m looking for…a car.”

“I don’t think you want a second-hand Volvo or an old and rusty Chevy. You look more like,” you look him up and down, “Porsche, or Ferrari. These cars are for people who work for their money and need a car to get to work. Not another status symbol.”

“Why do you hate me?”

He looks you deep in the eyes, searching your face.

“I don’t hate you,” you look away. “I just don’t want to watch another man end up losing everything he has to Dot. So please, stay away from me.”

“If only you would give her a chance, she could be a good stepmother.”

You snort. “Dude, she’s like four years elder than me. She never was and never will be a stepmother to me. She’s a bitch in heat looking for another dick to ride. A wealthy dick, of course.”

“Dick, huh?” he smirks.

You put your hands on your hips and glare at him. “If you would excuse me now. I have work to do.”

“I can see that. You are an expert in working yourself up,” how you hate his stupid smirk. “How about I invite you for dinner and we can talk some more.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No!”

“Heaven help, me with this stubborn brat. I can’t believe I’m wasting my time on her,” he can only watch you storm off. Bucky can’t help but wonder how it would feel to spank your ass.

Three weeks later, your last working place. Copy room.

“No…no,” you kick the copier. “It’s the wrong day to mess with me, bitch. I give you one last chance to give me those damn copies before I kick your ass again.”

“I don’t think a copier got an ass,” snickering Bucky leans in the doorframe to watch you fight with the machine. You kick it again. “Doll, the poor machine doesn’t deserve your hatred.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I thought we can go for dinner,” he steps inside the room and kicks the door shut with his foot. “Doll, I’m talking to you.”

“I got that.”

You don’t turn around, nor do you pay attention to Bucky when he steps closer to have a look at the copier. “How about being a little friendlier?”

“How about you get lost?”

“I get why you don’t get along with Dot,” he puts his hands on your hips and whispers in your ear. “You’re both so stubborn. Maybe I can help you get along better.”

“You can get lost. I don’t want anything to do with Dot, and the catastrophe you call your wedding.”

“I bet I can change your mind,” Bucky presses a soft kiss to your neck. “I’ll be back soon, doll.”

A month later, Barnes and Rogers Inc., your new boss’s office…

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here for the interview,” you gape at the man sitting in a swivel chair. “You’ve got to be shitting me!”

“Welcome to Barnes and Rogers Inc., doll,” Bucky grins as you start to throw insults at him. You had hoped to finally get a full-time job. You’re tired of working three jobs. “Why did you do this? I wanted a new job, not another confrontation with my past.”

“Oh, doll,” he slowly gets up from his chair to stride towards you. “I have a better plan for you. For us.” 

“US?”

He wraps one arm around your waistline, holding you close to his chest. “Us, Y/N. I want you to be a good girl now and do as I say.” Bucky whispers in your ear. “I’ll be your daddy soon. And I’ll make sure to become a very good daddy for you.”

“Get off me,” you weakly wiggle in his iron grip. “You won’t become my dad. I had a great dad.”

“He gave all of his money to Dot,” his hand moves up to your chest to give one tit a good squeeze. “He was an awful father. Let me be your daddy…” 

You make an odd noise. This is it, the moment you have been waiting for. “I don’t think so,” you only need to rile him up a little more and…

“Fucking brat.” 

He drags you toward his desk, cursing under his breath. You let him bend you over his desk. And you don’t fight him when he shoves your skirt up your waist and your panties down your legs.

You smirk.

“What do you want to do about it.”

Bucky presses one hand to the small of your back to hold you down. “I’ll show you how to behave.”

“Show me.”

“You’re not going to walk for a while.”

He kicks your legs apart. Bucky slaps your pussy, fingers running through your slicked folds. You hold your breath and try to hide you are already a dripping mess. “Slut, already so wet for me.”

You bite your tongue. 

“Got nothing to say,” two fingers prop at your entrance, waiting, lingering to cross a line. “Fine, I wanted to go easy on you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No. Fuck you.” 

Belt buckle. Zipper. Pants dropping to the ground. A symphony to your ears.

“I’m gonna fucking ruin this cunt,” Bucky curses behind you. He runs his cock up and down your folds, gathering your slick to cover his dick. “You’re going to be my good girl.”

Biting your lower lip hard enough to draw blood you feel him snap his hips into your ass, filling you in one go. He starts moving in vigor. Rough. Fast. Without mercy.

“Fucking brat.”

Bucky drags you onto his thick length, blunt nails digging into your skin. He watches his cock disappear in your body, smirking as you push back onto him.

“That’s much better. Good girl. Taking my cock so well.”

You struggle to not moan his name. He can never know you made sure he will end up fucking you over his desk. This is all you ever dreamed of and more. 

“Jamie?” Bucky stills his movement, but his cock twitches inside of your cunt. “What? Y/N?” Dot gasps as she just caught Bucky balls deep inside of you. “What are you doing?”

“Uh-what does it look like, mommy?” you lift your head to grin at her. Bucky swallows thickly as you start to clench tightly around him. He drops his eyes to your stuffed cunt as you start moving your hips to fuck yourself on his cock. “I’m fucking daddy…”

“Dot…I…uh,” Bucky tries to find the right words. “I tried to convince her to come to the wedding and realized, I prefer fucking her and not you.”

“I will destroy you, James Buchanan Barnes!” Dot storms out of the office and slams the door shut. “We are done!”

“I got everything I wanted from you, Dot,” he grips your hips to stop you from moving. “Now, will you tell me why you came all over me when Dot caught us?”

“I-I like to fuck with taken men…sometimes…”

“Well, this is over. You are mine now,” Bucky grunts. “When I’m done with you, we will make sure you’ll get all of your money, the house, and the company back…”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Your father was a good friend of my family for the longest time and I tried to find out what happend to him. Having my way with you was just a ... bonus...”

 Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[golddustdyke]

i hate being reminded that 1d is rich like .. why am i constantly giving you my money ..i’m going to continue but i won’t be happy about it 

[apairofpsychotictwins]

OKAY BUT CONSIDER PANTALONE WITH A BROKE!Dumbass (affectionate)! S/O

S/O is a broke Sumeru Academia student who is a total dumbass

Maybe writes a thesis on exploding slimes or smth and nearly destroyed an entire school building to test their hypotheses out. Also got held back for a year because their grades are shit.

Because of this S/O has the world's biggest student debt (and collateral damage debt), so they loaned money from the Northland Bank to pay it off

Now, they have a big debt towards the Northland Bank rip and they can't pay it back

Enter Pantalone offering them to do some suspicious mission (maybe as a Fatui bodyguard or smth) in exchange of clearing their debt

So now, they're spending a lot of time with Pantalone as his bodyguard :/

Pantalone realises, day by day, that his new employee is horrifically a menace and very much cheap af

- JUST S/O ESCORTING PANTALONE (because they're hired as a bodyguard) TO A SNOWY PLACE WEARING A T-SHIRT BECAUSE THEY'RE TOO CHEAP TO BUY A COAT

Also S/O biting chunks off uncooked instant noodles and calling that a meal

Extra points if S/O can't pronounce Pantalone's name right:

S/O: "Idk, I think his name is Regretor. Like he makes people regret shit. Well he definitely makes me regret a lot of my life decisions..."

AND FOR SOME REASON PANTALONE FALLS FOR THIS DUMBASS

But our dumbass S/O has full on trust issues (from the Northland Bank debt they acquired) towards Pantalone???

Pantalone trying to flirt: "Here you can have this ring ;)"

Dumbass S/O: "What, so that you can charge me a 15% interest fee for it? No way"

Pantalone feeling distress over S/O's diet of instant noodles: "Let me treat you to a meal :)"

Dumbass S/O: "Whoa hold on their Mr. Rich McPants, you think you can scam me to a 120,000 mora debt? FUCK NO"

The richest man in Snezhnaya is stressed

Extra - extra point if S/O is sus towards Pantalone but not scared of him. In fact S/O does the stupidest shit towards him

S/O climbing to Pantalone's bedroom window and hovering over his sleeping form the night before their suspicious mission, whispering positive affirmations: "Mr. REgRETOR, you WILL make me walk out of my debt scot free. I don't have to go out and do this sus mission :)"

It didn't work. Pantalone wakes up, calls the guards, and adds an extra zero to their debt.

[headspace-hotel]

Things Overheard on a Magical College Campus

“So, we had to have another fucking hall meeting about people teleporting in the halls.”

“Her parents are high elf sorcerers, so obviously they bought her her own Pegasus already and everything.” “Ugh, rich kids.”

“What are you gonna do with a minor in Dragonology?”

“Well, if you fail this class you can always sell your soul to obtain power through unholy means.” “I can’t! I already sold my soul to pay my student loans!”

“He’s got the Chosen One scholarship. Full ride,” “Really? I was going to apply for that, but my parents are still alive, soooo...” “I applied but I think they’re looking for more of a farm-boy-raised-by-aunt-and-uncle type. I mean, I’m adopted, but I grew up in the city.”

“Really?” “Yeah, so that’s why the freshmen aren’t allowed to learn fireball anymore.”

“Don’t you dare bring weed into my dorm. My RA’s a werewolf, she can smell that shit!”

“I’ve got an alchemy class in ten minutes, think I can afford to skip?” “Who’ve you got?” “Zorbo.” “Ehh, better not, he tests mostly from his lectures. His exams are whack too, last time he spent so long on transmuting copper alloys and it was barely even in the textbook.”

“Yeah, so the cat’s actually the RA’s familiar, so that’s how she found out I had a waffle iron in the dorm.”

“Oh, I know the girl with the seeing-eye spider! She’s on my hall!”

“I guess I could always sell my body to the Dark Lord’s undead armies to pay off my student loans...”

“So I’m doing a group project with a bunch of Heroism majors so that’s how my life is going.”

“Guess who didn’t get any fucking sleep because someone backfired a spell in the bathroom at 3am and the whole fucking dorm had to evacuate?”

“I’m taking Dark Omens 312 as an elective.” “Really? I thought you needed Interpreting Vague Prophecies as a prerequisite.” “Oh, I have transfer credit.”

“I love the Witchcraft building, it always smells like bog water and bone dust.”

“I left my fucking battle axe in one of the bathrooms and now it’s gone!” “I dunno man. You could check the Lost and Found desk.”

“Maybe we can hang out in your dorm?” “I dunno, it’s a full moon so I’m pretty sure my roommate is wolfing out right now.”

“So I’m majoring in Mad Science now.” “Oh, have you taken your Unethics class?”

“Hey, wanna go to the Abandoned Dark Tower and hang out in the torture dungeons?” “Nah, I have like a hundred sigils to learn before the test Monday.” “Come onnn! It’s one of the best spots on campus!”

“Done with that exam, pretty sure I failed it, time to run into the woods and join the roving bands of undead wolves.”

“Do you think it’s too late to change my major to Necromancy?”

“My professor came in this morning and she’d forgotten to change back from a cloud of crows into a person, so that was something.”

“You can tell the freshmen by how freaked out they get at hearing the werewolf club do their howl-off.”

“Look, just because a professor is a demon doesn’t mean I can sacrifice my firstborn to him to get a better grade. Anyway, I already promised my firstborn to a witch to pay off my student loans.”

“Yeah I forgot to take a towel or anything to the showers so I had to cast a glamour over myself and walk back ass-naked to my room.” “Don’t you have a robe?” “I mean. They don’t really make bathrobes that work when you have wings.” “Oh, that sucks.”

“I almost got an A. It was the fucking question about flight magic vs. levitation magic that got me.”

“There’s this one guy in my Divination 100 class who keeps derailing every class arguing with the professor about predestination...” “Lemme guess, an Arcane Languages major?” “I think he’s like double majoring in Cursebreaking and Arcane Engineering.” “Oof, even worse.”

“Ha, my professor spent like 20 minutes ranting about how shit the Dark Lord’s foreign policy is this morning.”

“We’re going into town, want to come with?” “Nah, I’m taking a nap. Still gotta work on stuff for Dreamwalking Club, and I haven’t got a lot of sleep lately.” “Aw. Ok.”

“So, yeah, I cast a purifying spell on the dining hall chicken nuggets and they just straight up vaporized into dust, so, no.”

“My parents are all like, go into something useful like Cursebreaking or some bullshit like that, blah blah blah...”

“So like, my roommate like bailed at the last second or something, right? And I got stuck with a rando and she’s a vampire and so she’s like, completely nocturnal and it’s driving me crazy because I can’t sleep when she’s up banging around heating up her blood bags in the microwave or whatever...”

“Fuck, I still haven’t got the chicken blood for the ritual due tomorrow. Shit.”

“I’m so tired, I think my soul is too thin to even be worth selling to pay off my student loans.”

“Fuck this shit. I’m going back to my room and making garlic bread.” “But...You’re a vampire...” “It’s finals week, do I look like I care?”

(inspired mostly by conversations with @awhellstothejoe, lol)