#and shes like “have you never paid taxes??”

[tcrocky14]

ONESHOT: MERRILY ALONG—tennis! star x Paige

((Okay I’ve been writing on Wattpad and never thought to put my work on tumblr so here we go! Plz be gentle I’m still new at this but I love manifesting life with P))

———————————————————————————-

After the 2024 WTA Finals(which you won) you were excited for a real break. Grant you it's less than a month, and most of that will be spent doing sponsorship work and photo shoots, but you still couldn't wait.

After winning the Finals, you hopped on a plane to Miami still wearing your photo shoot dress from winner's photos. You were so excited to be sleeping on your own bed and to see your family. Life could slow down at least a little before you were back on Tour.

You were given two weeks to truly rest and exercise like a normal person before training would start back. You planned to visit Paige, but her season at UCONN was really just beginning. The timing couldn't have been worse but you knew she felt most comfortable on the court, just like you.

Since college basketball was firing up, her name was beginning to really skyrocket in the press. And her partnerships were increasing too. With you as the highest paid athlete in women's sports and P as the highest paid CWBB player, you were unstoppable!

Her shoe with Nike just dropped and you genuinely cried the day every player for UCONN wore them at their game! You wish you could wear them for a day for support but New Balance is your shoe home. It's so surreal that P has a shoe while in college but you believe she's always meant to break records and set trends. You're just happy the world mainly agrees with you on that.

On December 21st, UCONN & USC play each other, at arguably the biggest game of the year. You knew you wanted to be there because everyone's eyes would be on Paige and JuJu, which could get stressful. Maybe having you there as moral support would make it a bit better .  She's born for the world stage, but that doesn't mean you don't worry about her mental health.

You promised your team that you'd be back in Miami right after Christmas. They wanted you to play United Cup, especially since you didn't plan on defending the ASB Classic title , but you were prioritizing your relationship....for once.

This is Paige's (likely) last year in college and you want to be there for her. There's so many moments you both have to miss because of your athletic careers, and it's easy to feel disconnected when you're constantly in different time zones. Once she's in the WNBA, it'll hopefully be more flexible and you'll spend more time together. 

But for now, you weren't going to miss big moments for a WTA250 or United Cup. Your team wasn't the happiest about your plans, and tried convincing you to change your mind. But it was already set: you'd fly to Storrs, CT that day and watch Paige. Then you'd both fly out to Minnesota to see her family for Christmas. Her next game is the 27th so you'll fly back to Miami while she goes back to school. Even a few days together has you anxious to remind her exactly why being long distance is worth it.

You haven't told her, but you've picked out the perfect presents for her dad, stepmom, and Drew. You've also found something for your perfect gf. Drew has a game of his own the very day after her game, so you guys will be jet-lagged but supporting him. You've met Paige's family a few times now but you still feel jittery before arriving. You don't know why because they're the nicest people, yet you always want to show you're a great girlfriend with good energy.

——————-

You were still in Miami trying to pick out what you could wear to the game Saturday. It was Thursday night so you needed to start packing, especially since you wanted to pack light. Living life basically out of a suitcase made packing during the offseason a disgusting experience. The less you had to travel the better, yet it seemed you were never home for more than a few days. The life of a "celebrity" was taxing and companies knew offseason was a better time for your brand dealings. You wished you could do photo shoots  from home but you try to remember how many people would KILL to be in your position.

For the game, you're thinking of a look you saw Bella Hadid wear a few years back. A green NorthFace jacket with black barrel jeans and black loafers. You'll definitely be wearing your glasses to the game for an even more comfortable experience. Then, for traveling to Minnesota and for Drew's game you'll wear an oversized grey New Balance sweatshirt with sweatpants and a camo hat. Cute-comfy— your favorite!

You began folding the clothes not so neatly when your sister came in. She's back home from Tulane for the holidays and you're really going to miss her the few days you're gone. Having a younger sister is one of the best things in life and you miss when she's away for college. Although you guys text and call each other almost everyday it's different when she's in person.

"Whatcha doing??," Anna asked, using her best Isabella voice from Phineas and Ferb. "Packing for my trip and failing to fold my clothes neatly," you said. You're definitely going to need a steamer when you travel because your clothes are going to be wrinkled from this lazy folding.

"I wish I could come with you!" Anna said. And honestly, if it was just to watch the game, you'd for sure bring your sister along. But Christmas at the Bueckers' house is for their family only and you're just getting used to joining.

Most of the time, Paige visits your family because she loves the Miami weather and enjoys the area. It's difficult in Minnesota when it's cold more often than not and her family has normal jobs .

The Heller family feels like it orbits your tennis career, something you wish wasn't true but definitely is. Tennis is so demanding, even compared to other sports, and your family has sacrificed a lot for you to continue being a top player. Basketball is difficult and can be expensive, but college helps ease the journey a lot. While Paige is at UCONN her family still maintains a normal life. While for you, the matches and your traveling schedule can affect everything.

That's why this Christmas is so special. You have a few days to hang out casually before the holiday and really soak it what being a Bueckers is like. You'd never tell anyone right now, but you're hoping this is practice for the rest of your life. Although it's only been a year, you picture growing with Paige and starting a family of your own. You look at people like Stewie and can't help but hope to have a little family of your own someday. Being in good cahoots with her family right now is important and luckily, it's been great so far

—————————

Friday passes quickly, thank God, because you leave for CT Saturday morning. The plane ride is a bit bumpy but it's the cold that stings the most. As soon as you step off the plane you're hit with the bite of a Connecticut winter. It felt weird boarding the plane in multiple layers but you're so happy you didn't dress Miami-Style for this trip.

Since it's the day of the game, Paige has practice most of the day. That means her good friend Kayla volunteers to pick you up, and you're very excited. As a fellow Black girl, you and Kayla get along too good. Each conversation leads to cackling and you even have a few inside jokes together. As much as KK and Ice are your girls, Kayla's super cool people. AND she's not on the team, so she can help with times like this!

You wait for your luggage and a teenager comes up asking for a picture. She seems shell-shocked from meeting you, something you never get used to. You're almost positive the picture will be on "Frances Heller" and "Paige Bueckers" fan accounts in the next hour. People will surely speculate but this is a big game, and who can blame you for wanting to see it in person?

You spot Kayla, or rather hear her music, right when you step outside the airport gate. She gets out to help with your luggage but you've only brought two carry-ons: your Glossier duffle and a New Balance black backpack. Like you said: packing light was key for this trip.

You guys catch up on all things life before pulling into the apartment complex Kayla and the girls live in. You go to text Paige you've made it but you see she's already texted that she's in practice, but can't wait to see you.

"She was obsessing over your location on the Find app," Kayla says. "She literally was refreshing it every second before they had practice even though SHE KNEW you were on the plane and undetectable."

Just hearing Paige's name makes your heart beat faster. It's corny, you know it is, but imagine being so in love with someone and NEVER getting to see them. You can literally count on your hands how often you and Paige see each other throughout the year and that's with big compromises in both schedules.

You go up to Kayla's apartment and patiently (very impatiently) wait for bball practice to be over. Since it's game day, there's one short-ish practice during the day and then real practice before game time. You mimic Paige and begin refreshing all the apps you guys communicate through: text, Snapchat, Find, anything to see whether she's out.

Eventually, her DND status on text goes away and Kayla has to watch you become an absolute fool as you wait for your girlfriend. Paige gets back and knocks on Kayla's door which you open with every cell in your body.

"FRANNY!" "SWEET P!" You two collide into one another with the same energy. The hug says: "I miss you, I love you, how are you?, all at once. It's like every event and moment that's been missed since the last time you've seen another culminated into a tight hug that lasts forever.

"I miss you so so so much Paige," you say, trying not to cry. You're not necessarily sad, just overwhelmed and relieved . You can feel in her hug that she must feel the same, and any insecurities from a long-distance relationship go away like a puff of smoke.

You go back to their apartment while Paige makes a quick snack. Once she's finished eating. She lets you know she misses you in another way. Thank goodness you can't detect blushing on your skin tone because you feel like you're about to burst into flames.

It's been SO LONG since you've been intimate with anything besides a silicone toy and you miss Paige's body. After her shower at the facilities, her hair is still wet and slightly curly. It's one of your favorite looks on her and doesn't help your desire to absolutely devour her.

She tries to casually insinuate your unexpected trip to the car but everyone knows what's going on. You'd rather have sweet moments in her bed, but it'd be unfair to her teammates/roommates. And you can't kick everyone out of the apartment either, totally not cool. So instead you head out to Paige's Grand Cherokee at an excited pace and allow her to drive you to the back of the parking lot.

It's still romantic with the snow falling and your tight space to work with. She turns on the warmers in the SUV and asks you to head to the backseats. Her playlist designed for these *moments* begins playing softly and you savor every minute in the backseat of her car....

———————-

Once you guys finished (no pun intended) you head (maybe a bit puny) back upstairs. You try taming your hair and fixing your swollen lips as best you can. But let's face it, the women in this apartment are going to absolutely clown you both.

"Oh y'all back? It's been almost an hour! Where'd you say y'all was going again??" Kk, per usual, is the first person to say something. Everyone else smirks to one another and Jana even films to put on her private SC later.

"We was busy." That's all Paige says as she blushes, smirks, and daps up Ice and KK. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she exemplifies pure fukboy energy. You so badly want to hate it but it's kinda hot...which she definitely knows because she continues smirking in your direction. You sit next to her and try to redirect the conversation to ANYTHING else but it takes a minute.

They're superstitious about talking about the game so it's talk about your stuff instead. You tell them your plans with Paige for the next few days and how preseason warmups are coming along. Before you  know it, everyone's getting up because it's time for pregame. You give Paige a million kisses as she gets ready to leave and then wait around until it's time to get dressed and leave.

—————-

You're not sure Paige would love your mode of transportation to the game but what else could you decide? Uber's are booked the entire way and the school shuttles are only for actual students. If you didn't have to show a school ID you would've hopped on or hoped a driver was being super nice but few have even passed. So instead, you're walking to the XL arena.

It's really not that far, so you don't mind the walk. Except for the fact that it's FREEZING. You can feel the inevitable sickness building in your body as you continue walking but that's what you do for love. You'd laugh at how ridiculous you feel, if you could feel your face.

Finally you get to the game and it's beyond packed. You knew it was a big game and sold out but it's bonkers trying to get inside. Even with a special pass you have to wait to get inside, letting the frost continue to harass you.

Once you make it inside you see a few girls get out their phones to video your entrance. It's weird, because you feel slightly conceded about it. But you also feel violated. And you never feel quite important enough to be taped walking into a gym. Yet here you are, and there's the phones capturing every moment.

You're not sitting courtside since that's reserved for paying members. Instead, you're a few rows up. Nothing crazy, but not on the ground. You realize how awkward you feel without somebody tagging along and wish you maybe would've brought your sister. Or even your twin Jack. But what would they do while you loved up on Paige all day?

So instead you got on your phone and waited for the starting lineup presentation. You filmed the whole thing and couldn't even hear the announcer say Paige's name because of the screams. It made you feel so special being Paige's girl when plenty of college girls, and adult women, fought for her attention. From shirts and fathead signs to homemade posters, it was obvious she grabbed people's attention.

From the moment the game began, UCONN had a difficult time. You didn't know why, but something just wasn't clicking that clearly worked better for USC. You really like JuJu Watkins and had a hard time rooting exclusively for UCONN, but your girl comes first.

After fighting tooth and nail they finally started coming back. With 8 seconds left, the game was only being won by two points . You knew how badly Paige wanted to win, with the country watching....if not the world. But sometimes, it's not just about who wants it. Being a super-senior meant Paige had some great highs and some lower-lows. This, would in fact, become a low.

—————

It was obvious how frustrated P was with herself. She was SO hard on herself, as most athletes are. But as the oldest on the team, she really felt like she was letting everyone down. You could see it in her demeanor and how she spoke to press. You only hoped she'd be able to see all the positives from the game and release herself from the pressure of it all. It's much easier than it looks though, you know from experience.

After speaking to Fox sports and Holly Rowe, Paige was making her way over to you. A literal LINE OF PEOPLE had formed while she was being interviewed who wanted to take pictures and get her autograph. You knew she wouldn't leave till everyone was satisfied, something you admired about her. Each person felt important in her eyes and she made sure to let them know. How lucky you were to be with someone so humble and kind to anyone.

She told the crowd to wait one sec as she walked over to your section. Now you really knew people would film  this and talk about it for a while. But honestly , who cares. You were shocked she even saw you in the section because of how intense the game had been.

The security guard removed the tape so Paige could slip by and give you a big hug. You whispered in her ear that she was so amazing and you hoped she'd known how bright she shines on the court. She nodded but didn't seem affected by your words which kind of stung. You knew at least be a few hours had to pass before she was truly cheery again, right now was just a performance of her fans.

She asked you to wait around until they were leaving the arena and to join them on the team bus. You felt like this was a big overstep and didn't want to piss Geno off, especially after the loss. You made her promise it was fine and already approved before you agreed to join them on the bus.

The rest of the night was a blur until suddenly, you were laying on Paige's purple sheets with her head on your chest. You continued to stroke her head and tried falling asleep because your flight tomorrow was super early.

———————————-

At the airport, a few fans asked for pics with you and Paige. It was so funny how fans of Paige began "stanning" you like an extra piece to the Paige puzzle. At 5 in the AM you only could pray you didn't look awful in the fan photos since you knew that'd be on social media later. After taking pics you sat at the terminal and then boarded the plane. It really wasn't a bad experience, even with a connecting flight.

Paige's dad picked y'all up and you could tell she missed Minnesota. With the photoshoots and games and everything else she visited home less and less. When her dad got out of the car she turned into Baby P again, rushing to her dad's arms. It was so sweet and made you feel fuzzy that she collapsed in his hug. Maybe she was feeling better now!

Mr. Bueckers brought you into the hug and the three of you laughed as people watched. He was arguably the coolest guy in Minnesota besides Gov. Waltz. You guys left the airport and picked up Culver's on the way to Drew's game. Even with an early flight you guys were making it right on time.

Drew's game was so well and they won! Even better, Drew won MVP and got a comically large MVP chain to wear. You guys gassed him up hard and he blushed the entire time. It was cute seeing Paige loving on Drew like a child of her own. ...you really needed to stop thinking about Mommy P and focus lol.

——————-

Once Christmas rolled around, you'd gotten comfortable at the Bueckers house. The past few days had been so chill yet never boring. And you didn't feel like you were walking on eggshells around the family.

You wore an Oxford shirt with a sweater vest over it tucked into a plaid mini skirt with black tights. You looked adorable, like a Christmas present.

Y'all went to church and then headed home to unwrap presents. Drew wanted to open presents before Mass but it was way too early for that.

You got Paige's parents a gift they'd told her about a while back, a bar cart and a Baristia machine to make cocktails. Drew got a new game for his PS5 and promised to play with you whenever you were in town.

For Paige, you got her a custom stack of cards with paintings of you guys on it. She always loved sentimental gifts more than expensive ones and she really liked this! You also gave her a Tiffany necklace similar to yours with F+P engraved inside. She put it on and never took it off, even to sleep.

————

After a full day of festivities and meeting a few Bueckers you'd never met, it was time to go to bed. It was hard to fall asleep because tomorrow, you'd be on your way back to Miami and she'd be going back to UCONN. These few days were so good, you wish you could bottle them up for when you miss her most.

Right before you start falling asleep she tells you she has one more gift for you. She reaches in her bag and pulls out the most adorable stuffed bunny in a Christmas outfit. She gives you the bunny and tells you to press on her paw. When you do, Paige's voice starts to speak.

"Anytime you miss me, just press the paw, and I'll be right there!" She gives you the cutest little smile while she waits to see if you like her extra gift. "ALSO, I sprayed her clothes with some of my perfume, so hopefully she'll smell like me for a while too."

You try not to cry your eyes out at the audacity of your girlfriend to be so sweet. You never would've thought of such a unique and kind gift.

"Thank you so much Paige, I love it!" You see her relax a bit at her successful gift. "I can't believe you're real sometimes, you're too good to me!"

You don't meant to sound insecure or anything, but she shuts anything like that down. "I'm so happy we're together Franny, I'd go to the moon for you."

"Maybe even the North Pole?" You joke, since it's Christmas.

"I go to college in the middle of nowhere Connecticut Frances, that's basically the North Pole."

You two laugh and then settle into a comfortable sleeping pattern. You know tomorrow you'll have to say goodbye at least for 2-3 months. But right now, you can't think of a life without Paige Bueckers in it.

——-❤️‍🔥END❤️‍🔥——-

🎄Happy Holidays!

[schlatt-love-bot]

Classroom Dad - Schlatt x Teacher!Reader Headcanon

I got the idea of Schlatt being a “classroom dad” in my head and couldn’t get it out omg, so enjoy my ramblings! For this, Teacher!Reader is at the elementary level :) 

When you met, Schlatt was both in awe of your profession and confused 

“So…listen, I get loving kids and loving learning and all that mushy gushy feel good shit…but you mean to tell me you only get paid that much for dealing with those little shits? …why do it?” 

After dating for a while, though, he began to love the crew of kids in your classroom just as much as you did, maybe even a little bit more 

“Tell me, did the kids give you any more gossip during indoor recess? Is Johnny really into Samantha??” 

He would get a kick out of the stories you’d be bringing home each and every day

On the flipside, though, he would know exactly when you walked through the door on a tough day, were behaviors were out of whack or a lesson didn’t go as planned 

“Awwwh, baby, come ‘ere, talk to me. I’m brewin’ you a cup of tea, and then you can tell me everything that went wrong today.” 

He had a blanket on standby for when the days got so tough you just came home and needed to cry it out 

After being together for so long, he had a strong understanding of just how emotionally taxing the job was, and how much came with it

Would HAPPILY play student for you when you needed to practice a lesson or activity you’ve never done with a class before 

“Babe this worked out perfectly! I forget that you have the IQ of a 4th grader sometimes…”

“Hey! Not nice! I could walk away right now and leave you to figure out why my animal cell and my plant cell look exactly the same!”

Heard you complain once about your district not providing you with a class set of materials you needed, and he IMMEDIATELY bought in on the spot

“Babe, why did a case full of number 2 pencils just show up at our door…?”

“You said the kids needed them…” 

It’s gotten to the point where if he sees something he thinks you need in your classroom or something your students would like, he buys it and presents it to you 

“Schlatt! A guinea pig??” 

“What! I figured you could use a classroom pet!! I wanted to get a classroom cat, but figured those shitheads wouldn't be able to handle it....plus allergies, y'know?” 

Constant supplier of fun trinkets and toys for your classroom prize bin

“Schlatt, the kids are complaining about the ratio of squishies to stickers…” 

“On it, boss. More squishies will be at our door by the end of the week.” 

Your students BEGGED you to finally meet their infamous “classroom dad”

“Guys…Mr. Schlatt works a lot, I don’t know if I could get him to come by and visit…” 

You mentioned it in passing during dinner one night, and Schlatt’s eyes lit up 

“You mean to tell me…they want me there? To meet me? What can I do?” 

And suddenly you’re having a “secret reader” come in at the end of the day to read the next chapter of the book you’re reading as a class 

The kids were excited, thinking it was one of their parents, like they were used to from 1st and 2nd grade 

But when Schlatt walked through the door??

You were chopped liver, these kids were treating him like he was a damn king in the classroom! 

“Mr. Schlatt, how is it living with Miss (Y/N)?” 

“Well, how is she in here?” 

“She’s kind and cares about us, but she can be annoying with the amount of work she makes us do…”

“Yeah..that sounds about right, kiddo.” 

You were making a mental note to never do this, ever, again

Until you noticed just how engaged the kids were in listening to Schlatt read 

Schlatt was doing his best performance, making up voices and giving the kids a show

They were listening to every word coming from his mouth, hook, line, and sinker 

…until he left them on a cliffhanger

“WHATTT???”

“MISS (Y/N)!!!! HOW COULD YOU?!?” 

“MR. SCHLATT PLEASSEEEEE, KEEP GOING!!” 

He looked at you with his best puppy eyes 

“Yeah, Miss (Y/N), can we keep going?” 

You chuckled, shaking your head as the entire class plus your boyfriend were begging to continue reading the book

“Guys, I wish I could let Mr. Schlatt continue, but your buses are about to be loaded in 5 minutes, we need to get ourselves packed up and ready to go!” 

The kids, and Schlatt, let out a collective groan before shuffling to get their belongings together

Schlatt lingered, waiting until every last kid left, helping you with closing down your classroom for the day 

“Yknow, toots, that was actually a lot of fun.”

“Good! I’m glad you thought so…we could definitely use a secret reader again for when we start Frindle…”

“You know I’m your man, baby. All you need to do is ask.” 

You told Schlatt to leave without you, needing to do a couple more things before leaving for the day

Reluctant, he left without you, greeting you at the door with your favorite slippers, a glass of wine, and dinner already made 

“I get why you come home so exhausted, now, I was only with those kids for what, 30 minutes? I’m absolutely exhausted!” 

You let out a laugh, glad he understood your daily exhaustion on a personal level now 

“Seeing you with those kids, though…it’s got me thinking…” 

You raised your eyebrow, signalling him to continue

“What if…what if we start workin’ on our own little gremlin…” 

You nearly choked on your wine, cheeks beginning to get hot with blush 

“Think about it, doll, and then get back to-” 

“Yes. We should. In fact…we should get started right now..” 

Not much dinner was eaten that night, but both you and Schlatt certainly had your fill of dessert…

[ethan-acfan]

More desmond headcanons bc my blorb is scurrying around my head and won't leave.

Desmond develops chronic migraines from the animus like the really bad kind. The ones where you pass out and wake up in Pain™️

Desmond is weirdly good at singing, but he never tells anyone, and most of the time, when he sings around others, he does it ironically, so one day he is just humming a song and everyone is like "WTF YOU CAN SING?"

Des starts picking up odd habits from his ancestors, such as refusing to step into a room with his left foot (edward) or running his tongue along his scar.

He 100% blames himself for not getting clay out of the animus

Is creepily flexible, like to a concerning degree.

He strikes me as a language nerd he def has duolingo, and even before the animus, he knew like 15 different languages

He climbs walls (yes, I was a wall climber as a kid, yes I am projecting rn)

ADHD DESMOND

He once got a 70 year old bottle of whiskey from a "friend" from the bar, and he absolutely shows it off every chance he gets.

He has connections to gangs and has gone on bike rides with them.

He can't do basic math to save his life if someone puts a multiplication problem in front of him, he short circuits.

He starts getting really bad nose bleeds from the animus, scares the crap out of everyone.

Definitely knows how to flirt like FLIRT can turn the straightest of men gay for a night if need be. It just gets worse after going through ezios' memories.

Has a list of really weird talents but can't do basic tasks like, yeah, you can dislocate your shoulder and pop it back into place, but can you cook eggs without burning them🤨

Terrible at cooking (95% sure his food is banned under the Geneva Conventions)

Can't walk in a straight line he is the friend who bumps into 1000 times a minute while walking down the side walk.

He is weirdly silent, like even before the animus thing, he is always weirdly quiet like silent footsteps can't hear his breathing etc. He dosent mean to it just happens

The only training that really stuck from the farm was the stealth training it was also his favorite subject to work on he probably hated hand to hand combat.

He has never filed taxes a day in his life, but the IRS could never track him down. He honestly doesn't even know he supposed to be paying them. The IRS has a meltdown over this.

Ok, I think this was enough to satisfy the itch in my brain. I'm gonna go to bed, know I might post a one-shot about the IRS one tomorrow. Idk

[corsairspade]

Halenthir scenario where they get married for tax benefits (in a platonic good friends sort of way) and fall in love long distance via sending each other letters with ideas on how to best leverage their marriage for tax evasion.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Basically. I got screwed.

I am very sorry for how relatively quiet this blog has been but I've been dealing with a very unpleasant situation the last few months, and now I need help.

Essentially, I tried to help someone out, and she took advantage of me, and I have no way to recoup my losses.

Earlier this year, I moved into a new house. Before we sold the old house, a Now-Former friend ran into some trouble and was about to become homeless with pets and a small child. Not wanting them to be on the street, we offered to hold off selling the old house so she could stay there for a little while, if she could pay the cost of the mortgage on that house (because I could afford one mortgage but not two) while we helped her find somewhere more permanent.

I was not making money from this- since I was still paying the utilities and property taxes, I was actually losing money, but willing to soak that in order to help her save up and get her on her feet.

Instead, she:

Never Paid a Dime towards covering the mortgage costs like she agreed ($12,000 for the nine months she was there)

Trashed the house ($500 dump fees for the trash alone)

Let her pets piss and shit all over the house ($1,500 bio hazard cleanup, $4000 to replace the carpet and other damaged flooring)

Caused an electrical issue in the garage ($900 to repair)

Broke the washer, dryer and refrigerator ($2500 to replace)

Broke the fence ($1000 to repair)

When I told her I could no longer financially support her and that I needed to sell the old house, she illegally squatted there for a solid three months and I had to hire a lawyer and actually take her to court to get her to leave ($2,500)

The resulting stress has been, as you can imagine, stressful.

So stressful, in fact, that it aggravated a the medical conditions my husband had and made him extremely sick. He had to go to the hospital and take time off work to recover. Now the health insurance is trying to weasel out of paying his short-term disability claim.

So net, this woman has managed to cost me around $25,000 and that's not taking into account the missed paychecks and medical expenses. I do not have $25,000, and until at least $13,000 of that is spent to repair the damage she did, I legally cannot sell the house to even begin to recoup my losses.

Theoretically, I could sue this woman, but she doesn't have any money and it would be me paying even more money I don't have to get... Nothing. So I'm asking for help to cover the costs of getting the old house ready to sell, my husband's medical expenses, and other expenses incurred by this debacle:

If you can help out in any way-share, donate spare change, anything- I'd be extremely grateful.

Thank you.

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 11 (The End)

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

I could write more, but quite frankly, I think I would kinda drag it out and the first major arc is tied up with a neat little bow! There are definitely be threads left dangling for me to pick up whenever I want to write more about Sky and Azriel, but I think around 50k is a good place to stop for now ❤️

Even the Spymaster of the Night Court paid taxes.

That was the only reason why Rhysand even found out where exactly Azriel‘s home even was.

Azriel’s home was in the outskirts of Velaris, near the mountains. A little lake cabin. Rhys hadn’t even known that Azriel owned it but apparently he did.

Rhys shouldn’t go there. He knew that.

Rhys should be giving his brother space. That was probably the least he owed him. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know Azriel was alright. That he was happy.

Rhys needed to apologise. He needed to make amends…

And Azriel was ignoring him. Mental shields as shored up as they ever had been, shoving back at Rhys at every opportunity…

He had never seen Azriel's mental shields like this before, and it concerned him. He knew Azriel was angry at him, had ever right to be angry,  but Rhys hadn't expected his brother to shut him out so completely.

Reports were still arriving on his desk punctually as always. But Azriel seemed utterly uninterested in actually talking to Rhys. 

It was a small comfort, knowing that Azriel was still working, but Rhysand couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that had settled deep in his gut. He knew that he had hurt Azriel deeply, and he couldn’t blame his brother for shutting him out.

Rhys wished he could turn back time and fix things, but he had messed up terribly. He knew he had to give Azriel space, but the silence between them was deafening . It was a constant reminder of just how much damage he had caused.

As the days went on, Rhysand found himself consumed by thoughts of what he could have done…should have done… He tried reaching out to Azriel mentally, only to be rebuffed each time. 

Cassian showed up alone for debriefings and if Rhys showed up at the House of Wind for Valkyrie Training, Azriel was nowhere to be seen. 

So finally…Rhys had enough. So he showed up at that house. 

It was a nice house too, a secluded cabin at a mountain lake. Rhys knew that he wasn’t welcome, not after everything that had passed between them, but he had to see Azriel. 

Rhys raised a hand, knocking gently on the door. He could hear the faint sound of movement inside. Rhysand sighed. He should leave. He knew he should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

And then suddenly, to his surprise…the door opened. 

“…C…Can I….can I h…help you?“

She was brown haired and short… with deep blue eyes and freckles smattering over her nose.

Rhysand looked at the woman in front of him, taken aback by her appearance. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a small, curvy, freckled brunette.

"I, uh..." Rhysand stammered, his mind blanking. "I was looking for Azriel." he finally brought out. 

The small female studied him carefully, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Az…Azriel's n…not h…here," she stuttered.

Rhysand's heart sank, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you know where he is?" he asked, desperate for any information.

The female hesitated, biting her lip slightly. She seemed to be contemplating her answer, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she finally looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. "He…He's...o…out f…for t…the d…day," she said finally, not giving him anymore than that.

Rhysand tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was so close to his brother, and yet so far away. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he asked sharply.

She nearly flinched away from him at that tone of voice.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't even get to that. Because some thing with wickedly sharp claws, launched itself at his head with a hissing sound.

Rhysand yelped as the mysterious creature swiped at his face, growling all the while.

"HECTOR NO!" The female shrieked.

Rhysand stumbled backwards, trying to dodge the sharp claws.

Just at that moment, he felt more than he heard his brother's arrival.

Azriel materialized between them with a loud flapping of wings, his siphons blazing. He stood protectively in front of the small female, his expression murderous.

"Hector to me," he snapped. The thing, a cat ...an incredible ugly , murderous looking cat let off Rhys with another growl and slunk back to Azriel's side, heeling like a dog. The woman quickly scooped him up in her arms.

Cassian's laughter washed over him, at that moment, as Rhys was still laying on the ground, bested by a cat .

"Taking down by a cat now, Rhysie?" Cassian asked him with a snort, offering him his hand to gain his feet.

Rhys already knew that he was never going to live this down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Azriel hissed, his voice filled with anger. His wings were spread wide, and Rhysand could see the barely contained ferocity beneath his brother's cold facade.

Rhysand winced at Azriel's harsh tone. He knew he had messed up, and he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him. "I just wanted to see you," he said, feeling small under Azriel's penetrating glare.

Azriel's expression didn't soften at his words. "You had no right," he said sharply. "You can't just show up here unannounced, Rhysand. This is my home, and you're not welcome here. You terrified Sky!"

Sky. Sky. That was the name of his brother's mate...of the pretty brunette that was standing behind him, fussing over her murderous cat.

Rhysand glanced over at Sky guiltily. "I...I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sky hesitated, before nodding stiffly. Her face remained guarded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the mangy cat. Rhysand couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to Azriel's imposing form…and the absolute massive cat. 

"I am sorry," he turned to his brother, swallowing. The apology wasn't enough. he knew that. And it wasn't going to fix the fact that Azriel didn't trust him anymore or... *Az. Please.*

"How did you find this house?" Azriel demanded.

"I checked the tax reports," Rhys admitted with a grimace.

Azriel's expression darkened even further, and Rhys braced himself for a reprimand. Instead, his brother let out a harsh, bitter chuckle. "Of course you did," he said flatly. "Just can't stay out of my business, can you?"

Rhysand felt a pang in his chest at the hostility in Azriel's voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of resentment his brother felt, but it still hurt deep to hear it out loud. "I...I was worried about you," he said lamely.”I just needed to see you." he added. "To apologise."

"You don't even realise the lines you keep crossing, do you?" Cassian asked him flatly. "Ever thought about the fact that maybe you should have waited until Azriel was ready to hear you out?

Rhysand winced. Cassian's words struck a nerve, and he knew his friend was right. He had been rash and insensitive in coming here unannounced. "I...I wasn't thinking," he admitted softly.

Cassian shook his head, his expression still stern. "That's the problem, Rhys," he said bluntly. "You never seem to think these days. It's like you're so caught up in your own head that you don't consider how your actions affect those around you."

Rhysand's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. Cassian's words pierced straight through him, and he struggled to find a response. He knew he had been making mistakes, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still stung.

"What do you want?" Azriel asked him flatly. "Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to apologise," Rhys said weakly. "I...fucked up. I know that. I want to...fix things."

Azriel's face remained impassive, his eyes hard. "You can't just fix things with an apology, Rhys," He said curtly. "You crossed more than one line, and you shattered my trust. Do you really think saying sorry is enough?"

"Az," his mate said softly, her voice quiet. "H..He's blee..bleeding all over our front lawn after my cat at..attacked him. At least let him sit down and give him a healing salve…"

Azriel turned to look at his mate, his anger softening ever so slightly at the concern in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh, before nodding stiffly. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But no more than that."

Rhysand nodded gratefully, relieved that Azriel was willing to let him in, even if only slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I...I really am sorry."

Azriel didn't respond, turning away from him and herded Sky and the murder cat into the house. Rhysand watched him go, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that his brother's anger was far from abated, and he knew it would take a lot more than just an apology to mend their fractured relationship.

"Come on," Cassian prodded him up.

The first thing that Rhys realised about the house Azriel shared with his mate was that it was absolutely stuffed full with books. The second was, that Azriel clearly doted on the Murder Cat that got a crystal dish with tuna on it put on the floor before Azriel even went in the direction of the healing salve, which he slapped down on the table in front of Rhysand. .

"I…I am so…sorry," Sky apologised to Rhys, bright blue eyes apologetic. "H…Hector has nev…never done anything like that before, I swear."

Yeah, somehow he doubted that. But he also doubted that it was going to help his relationship with Azriel if he was going to annoy his mate about her beastly cat. The thing had a worse personality than Amren . 

"Don't worry about it," he said, with what he hoped he was a gracious smile. "I think your cat and I just got off on the wrong foot." He looked over at the cat, who was now happily devouring the tuna as if it hadn't just tried to claw his face off.

"Good Boy, Hector," Azriel said warmly.

Rhysand could just stare.

Azriel, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court, was cooing at a mangy cat like a proud parent. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

"Who knew the Spymaster had a soft spot for cats," Rhysand remarked with a faint smile. Azriel shot him a warning glare, but the sternness was lost at the tender way he was petting the cat. "I am really sorry," Rhys apologised again.

"You said so. Numerous times," Azriel shot back.

Rhysand sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew Azriel was still angry with him, but it was hard not to feel the guilt weighing down on him. "I know," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I mean it. I am sorry, Azriel. For everything."

Azriel's expression remained impassive, but Rhysand could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. He knew his brother was struggling to forgive him, but he hoped that with time, Azriel would be able to find it in his heart to do so.

"I just want to make things right," Rhysand said earnestly. "I miss you, Az. I miss my brother."

"You'll need to decide one of those days," Azriel said sharply. "Am I your soldier or am I your brother?"

Rhysand flinched at the words, feeling the weight of the accusation hit him hard. 

He had always tried to balance his role as High Lord with his relationship with his brothers, but he knew that…that he hadn’t been fair to Azriel for a long time. "You're right," he conceded quietly. "I have been treating you like my soldier instead of my brother, and that's not fair to you."

"You have been treating him absolutely deplorably," Cassian cut him off.

Rhysand hung his head, feeling the weight of his mistakes settling heavy on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been so caught up in my own problems and responsibilities as High Lord that I lost sight of what really matters. And I've hurt Azriel because of it."

"And you stuck your nose in things that are none of your business," Cassian continued. "I get it that you are tired of fighting, Rhys, we all are, but you can't keep conflict out of our family by ordering Azriel to behave in the way you would like him to."

Rhysand winced, knowing Cassian was right. He had been trying to control things, to make sure everyone was safe and happy, but in the process, he had driven a wedge between himself and his brothers. "I...I know," he admitted reluctantly. "I was…I was stupid. I am tired of war. Of fighting. And I was just trying to protect him, but I went about it all wrong."

" Protect me?" Azriel asked him, his voice dripping with disdain. " Protect me from what ?"

Rhysand looked away, feeling the shame rise within him. He knew he had overstepped, and he knew that Azriel was angry with him. "The consequences that would have arisen," he said delicately. He didn't know what Azriel had told his mate...didn't know how much she knew, but she was watching him with an expression on his face, he couldn't quite place.

"Well, I am an adult, Rhysand," Azriel snapped. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself."

Rhys knew that. He knew Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he still felt the need to protect him, to shield him from harm.

"I...I know that," Rhysand said quietly. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt." He glanced over at Azriel's mate, who was still watching him warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated, judged for his mistakes.

Azriel let out a dry chuckle. "Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" he said bitterly. "You've seen to that already." Rhysand winced at the accusation, knowing that he deserved every ounce of Azriel's anger.

"I know," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I am sorry for that. I see now that it was the wrong way to go about it." He looked into his brother's dark eyes, pleading for understanding.

Azriel met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Protecting me by making decisions for me is not protecting me, Rhysand," he said quietly. "It's...it's suffocating. It's demeaning."

Rhysand nodded, knowing that Azriel was right. He had been trying to control everything, trying to make sure that nothing went wrong, and he had lost sight of what was truly important. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I am sorry for making you feel that way. It was wrong of me."

Azriel studied him for a moment, before finally sighing. "Just...stop it," he said simply. "No more interfering in my personal life, no more giving me orders like I am one of your soldiers."

Rhysand let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I promise," he said earnestly. "I won't do it again, Az. I...I'll respect your boundaries, and I'll never overstep again."

Azriel snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said gruffly. "And if you do...if you try to control me like that again, I swear Rhysand...it won't end well."

"You'll ha…have He…Hecctor to contend with," Sky said, her voice even.

Rhysand looked over at Hector, who had finished his tuna and was now licking his chops.  Rhys swallowed. "He does seem to be a force to be reckoned with," he said carefully.

Sky gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "You could say t…that," she said, her tone neutral. Azriel snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he watched his mate. It was the first genuinely carefree sound Rhysand had heard from his brother…in a long time.

Despite the earlier tension, Rhysand found himself smiling too. There was something about the way Azriel looked at his mate, the way he looked...happy, that made Rhysand feel like maybe everything would be alright.

Hector chose that moment to let out a loud meow, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge in the otherwise quiet room. Azriel looked down at the cat, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll get you your second helping, spoiled brat," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Rhysand chuckled, feeling the tension that had been weighing him down lift just a little. Things between him and Azriel weren't repaired yet, they had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful.

“They do say the pen is mi…mightier than a sword,” Sky said suddenly. “You treat Azriel like that again and you’ll see just how mighty my pen is.”

Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Sky's unexpected threat. It was clear that she wasn't messing around, and Rhys couldn't help but admire her boldness. He glanced over at Azriel, who was trying to suppress a smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rhysand said, trying to hide his amusement. "Though I have to say, I can’t imagine a pen being as terrifying as Hector."

Cassian snorted. “Oh you have no idea,” he muttered

Rhysand's eyes widened in curiosity at Cassian's comment. What on earth did that mean? But before he could inquire further, Azriel's voice broke through.

"Don't worry about it," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's just say that you don't want to get on Sky's bad side, especially when she has her writing instruments within reach."

"Duly noted," Rhysand said, nodding seriously. He had a feeling that Azriel's mate was not someone to be trifled with, regardless of how harmless she looked, and he had no intention of finding out first-hand just how mighty her pen truly was.

Hector, having finished his second helping of tuna, let out a satisfied meow before padding over to Sky and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, smiling as he purred contentedly.

Rhysand watched the scene. He had never seen Azriel so relaxed, so happy, and it made him realize just how badly he had missed his brother. It was a reminder that family was more important than anything, and that he needed to cherish the people he cared about.

“Seems like you aren’t Sky’s favourite,” Cassian drawled.

Azriel snorted. “Nah, I come a distant third behind Hector and the shadows.”

Rhys watched with a swallow as these shadows that he had seen torturing people came over to Sky and twined around her hands. Azriel's words were said in jest, but Rhysand could hear the fondness in his voice. It was clear that Azriel adored his mate, and that the shadows had taken a liking to her as well. Rhysand tried not to let the slight sting of jealousy show on his face.

As he watched, the shadows danced around Sky's fingers, like they were alive and had a mind of their own. Rhys had seen the shadows in action, had seen how Azriel used them to fight and spy, but he had never seen them act this way before. There was a tenderness in the way they twined around Sky that was almost...beautiful.

Rhys turned to Azriel, who was watching his mate with a soft expression on his face. "They seem to like her," he commented, keeping his voice neutral.

"That's an understatement," Azriel said drily. "They're obsessed with her. They won't leave her alone."

Rhysand could see that clearly, but what surprised him more was how comfortable Sky seemed with them. She wasn't scared or even bothered by their presence...

It did make sense he supposed. The shadows were Azriel's weapon, his most trusted companions...that they would like his mate.

Rhysand watched as Sky looked up from where the shadows were wrapping around her fingers, a faint smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease with the strange entities, as if they were just another part of Azriel that she had accepted and embraced.

And it was also a sharp reminder of how much trust Rhys had destroyed through his actions. It was very clear who Azriel preferred, who he trusted more. Who he gravitated towards. Who even his shadows doted on, these strange, creatures that Rhys was quite sure would stop at nothing to keep their master safe.

The realization stung, but Rhys knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had caused this rift between them, he had pushed Azriel away, and now he was paying the price for it. But he was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.

As he watched Azriel gently brush away a stray strand of hair from Sky's face, Rhys made a silent vow. He would do whatever it took to repair their broken bond, to regain Azriel's trust and respect. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, he would make things right.

***

"You want to talk about it?" Sky asked him quietly, after Cassian ad Rhys had gone. 

She was fine now. Content. No more pulling at the mating bond so harshly and pushing all her fear at him. It had shaved at least a century of his life, to feel that from her when Casisan and him had been sparring and he knew that she was supposed to be safe at home.

He had expected near everything…but he hadn’t expected to arrive to the view of Hector scratching Rhys’s face with all his might. 

Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to put his tangled emotions into words yet, but he also knew that he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside.

"Rhys gave me some orders that I didn't agree with," he said drily. "Stuck his nose in things that he had no business to interfere with. He treated me...treated me like my feelings didn't matter. That I didn't matter....It took a really bad fight on Solstice for this apology to occur," he said with a grimace.

"You don't think he means it?" Sky asked him curiously, turning to look at him.

"No, he does mean it," Azriel said with a sigh. He did believe that. “He wants to fix things. to rebuild trust...And I do want that too. Regardless of how much of an asshole he can be on occasion he is still my brother ."

Sky was quiet for a long moment, watching him intently. Azriel felt the weight of her gaze, knowing that she was analyzing the situation, trying to understand what he was feeling. Finally, she spoke.

"You're worried that he'll disappoint you again," she said softly. "That he'll make promises that he can't keep. That he'll go back on his word and hurt you worse than before."

Azriel's throat felt tight. The words hit him hard, because Sky had put a voice to his deepest fears. "Yes," he admitted. "That'sexactly what I'm afraid of. I want to believe him, I do."

But it was hard to trust Rhys right ow. Especially with Sky. Trusting Rhys with the most important, the most precious part of his life...

"I can loan you Hector whenever he pisses you off again," Sky offered him seriously, and Azriel couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I might just take you up on that." He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. The scent of caramel and hazelnuts enveloped him, calming his racing thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders.

"I love you, he whispered into her skin and she hummed. "Regardless of what happens, you  have me," Sky promised him. "I'll be behind you, every step of the way. regardless of whatever you decide."

Those words were like a balm to Azriel's soul. The fear and doubt that had been plaguing him since Rhysand's unexpected visit receded, replaced by a sense of safety and certainty. He held onto Sky tightly.

"I love you too," she murmured, the words barely audible even in the still apartment.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding onto each other.

*I don't think I ever thanked you.* he told the shadows softly as he held his mate in his arms.

The shadows fluttered around him, wrapping around his arms and shoulders like a comforting embrace. They didn't say anything, but Azriel could feel their response. They had been with him through thick and thin, protecting him, guiding him, and never once asking for a word of thanks. And yet, he knew that they understood his gratitude, that they could feel it…

*Thank you for finding her.*

[wonderjanga]

The IRS

Billy doesn’t pay taxes. Anything related to taxes, he doesn’t know about.

M’gann: “What’s an IRS?”

Kid Flash “They’re these guys who collect taxes.”

M’gann: “Really? I’ve never paid taxes before. Are they gonna come after me?” *sounds slightly concerned*

Kid Flash: “Maybe-”

Marvel: *comes out of the kitchen with cookies* “No, they’re not. M’gann, the IRS isn’t real.”

M’gann: “It isn’t?”

Marvel: “Yeah, it isn’t. Wally’s just pulling your leg.”

Kid Flash: “Uh… no, no I’m not… Marvel you do know IRS is real, right? It’s important to me that you know that.”

Marvel: “Well, they’ve never come for me and I haven’t paid a single tax in my life.”

Kid Flash: *sounds completely concerned* “That means you’re committing tax fraud.”

Later…

YJ and Marvel: *all huddled around Tim who’s hunched over a computer*

Marvel: “Why’s is everyone here?”

Robin!Tim: “What do you mean, Cap? This is a celebratory moment. We didn’t even know you could commit a crime, yet here we are.” *typing on computer*

Marvel: “Why’d you pull up C.C. Batson?”

Robin!Tim: “Cap, you’re not exactly hiding your face. Anyone could find out who you were if they just dug a little deeper than the surface.”

Artemis: “Your name is C.C.?” *tries to see the computer*

Robin!Tim: “Charles actually.”

Zatanna: “You look like a Charles.”

Marvel: “I do? Huh. Well, anyways, I’ve been legally pronounced dead so I shouldn’t have to pay them right?”

Robin!Tim: “Well, you’re alive now. That means that you technically faked your death and that also technically means that you’re committing tax fraud so…” *types on computer* “You should owe 5 billion to the IRS.”

Marvel: *sounds completely devastated* “WHAT?”

Aqualad: “How could he possibly have racked up that much?”

Robin!Tim: “Well, Cap’s been “dead” *does quotes with his hands* since 1958 so he put off 66 years of taxes. Plus, the price of a dollar went up as the years passed so yeah.”

Marvel: “Oh my gods…” *sounds like he’s about to have a mental breakdown*

Kid Flash: “Wow. You’re actually an egregious tax evader. 5 billion is insane.”

Even More Later…

Batman: *came to check on the kids*

Marvel: *in a corner, rocking back and forth, practically crying*

Batman: “What’s wrong with him?”

Robin!Tim: “He owes 5 billion to the IRS.”

Batman: “…What?”

Robin!Tim: “Yeah, I know, right?”

Batman and Robin!Tim: *watch as Conner comes by and puts a bunch of blankets on Marvel. They then see M’gann come in with some hot coco and hand it to Cap*

Batman: *sighs* “I’ll get the money.” *walks away*

Robin!Tim: “Hey, Cap! You can stop worrying now! Batman is gonna hook you up.

And that’s how, after much refusal from Billy and a lot of peer pressure from both the YJ and Mr. Batman, itty bitty Billy Batson ended up with 5 billion dollars. And since he didn’t want to be arrested for tax evasion, he was too scared to hand it over to the IRS. (It’s not like he knew how to pay them anyways) But hey, Billy now gets to treat himself, Mary, and Freddy. They now have a decent apartment, better clothes, and lots and lots of food money, and potentially toy money? Billy’s been eyeing these Bulletman and Bulletgirl action figures for his and Mary’s birthday coming up. He hopes Mary will like them, or at least the Bulletgirl figure, he knows she’s a big fan.

Also, I have no idea if the 5 billion dollar thing is right, I pulled that from somewhere and I honestly forgot where.

[evilgwrl]

Arranged marriage! With ghost where she’s from a small island and ghost comes to collect taxes well the island is just a few hundred short they can make it up next year? Right?! Nah ghosts is like mmmmm I’ll take what yall call a princess mean while she’s struggling as much as the other fokes on the island so when Simon takes her way and finds out she’s never lived the simple life he makes it his mission to show her the good that can out of this arrangement smutty if you would 😭 I’m obsessed with the arranged marriage trope with ghost he’s a cutie patootie

Arranged Marriage w/ Simon Riley

Holy moly I love this…

Thank you for this idea @creepytoes88 I hope you don’t mind that I made him a king, I just wanted it to flow with giving her a better life and the tax collection <3

King!Simon Riley x Reader

Archipelago

CW: Being sold by your family to pay off debt, sharing a bath, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm bc simon knows what to do ;)

Word Count: 2,623

Twisted fingers hooked under the bark, knees scraped with stagnant flora, coiling limbs of bushy thorns blistering around the tropical plains. There was a subtle burn that sunk through your thighs, muscles gnawing at your bones before you finally settled on a thick branch, wind hissing in your ear, almost warning you. You paid no attention.

Pupil-blown eyes stared off to the view in front of you, lapping in the vicious strain of turquoise, untouched coral glistening an array of colours under the harsh sun. There was a trickle of sweat that ran down the back of your neck, your hair thrown into a rough bun as you shielded yourself with raggedy, overworked fingers.

You watched the skerries surrounding your island, a flurry of birds swooping low before nestling down on the warmth of the rocky floor. It was a peaceful sight. Nothing but the low crash of waves to be sound, the occasional calling of a fellow Islander working its way through the palms and out of the sand, before landing in your ear.

You felt the prickle of pain shoot through your feet as you landed on the ground, the grass covered in speckles of yellow dust sticking in between your toes as you hurried down to the village. Any bit of tranquillity soon disappeared as your eyes locked into the sight of the townspeople, the Island far too small to accommodate such needing families.

“Y/N! Where have you been? The King shall be here soon and you’re off running with the fairies.”

Your Mother’s tone was harsh and reprimanding, her eyes tight with wrinkles as she scowled, chucking a makeshift broom at you. You weren’t exactly sure what the difference of you sweeping would make, the life you live here, swept or not, is strikingly different to the one of a King. No matter how beautiful your Island is, your feet are permanently stained with grains of sand, skin is littered with dull scars and fresh scratches.

You understood her worry, offering her a gentle, apologetic smile as you followed her bustle of orders. Your Father was the village Chief, a wise man who led the people to survive without the worry of advanced civilisation.

You were seen as a headcase to the others. A woman whose head wasn’t fixed well enough to her shoulders. A dreamer. Your mind was amplified by the need to do more, to see more. Untouched beauty too turns mundane when you’re not allowed to experience it.

As night fell, the waves seemed to settle, burying themselves in the crops of sand that spanned around you, 10-legged creatures hiding away in the cocoon of a cracked shell. Palms slept with the safety of coconuts that would blossom into the town’s delicacy, the meat tender on the tongues of children, the water fuel for the fishermen. There was a large bonfire lit, the earthly crackle occasionally popping as a spark flew out, hissing against the cool air before dispersing into a drag of smoke.  

Girls chattered around you, smoothing down their appearances as they used crushed berries on their lips and the apples of their cheeks. You were never fussed about the King, hardly paying attention to him on his previous arrivals if he even bothered to show up. You took note of his lack of empathy, normally sending one of his men in his place, unbothered by the Island that’s supposed to fall under his command.

You heard the ship pull up, wood striking against the ground as it split between the beach, a carved woman tangled to the figurehead, flowing hair etched between wood and a man’s knife as she breached the island. They were a loud bunch, deep voices echoing across the Isle as your father walked down to greet them formally.

The air grew silent, thick smog suffocating the air as your father appeared, his figure shaking as he hobbled towards you. Toughened hands gripped your cheeks, stroking the sun-kissed skin to comfort you.

“Father, what’s wrong?”

“We- We’re short on our taxes,” he gulped, a hand planted in your matted hair as you scrunched your brows together.

“But how? We’re sensible, we work harder- How?”

“Things happen beyond our understanding sometimes, sweetheart, just know me and your mother love you very much.”

“I know? Why are you-” you stalled “- Why are you telling me this? What’s going on?”

“The King needs a wife,” he hiccupped as realisation set in, spine snapping into a cold flush as you attempted to wriggle free from your father’s grip.

“No-“

“I have to, Y/N, I don’t have a choice!”

“A choice? There’s always a choice! How could you do this to me?” The strain of a sob wracked through your chest, your heart beating eerily slow against your rib cage as you wailed out for your mother who only walked away, her face concealed by strands of hair. Hands coiled around your biceps, dragging you towards the ship as you carried on, cementing your heels into the dirtied sand to anchor yourself.

“Stop resisting,” A harsh voice spoke into your ear, nails breaking the surface of your tender skin as you nipped at the air, wriggling. Your limbs felt mangled as you were thrown over someone’s shoulder, your stomach caving in with a penetrative force as you choked on the air, saline tears streaming down your face.

Aching skin collided with the sand as you were thrown onto the floor, leather boots staring back at you as your head cocked up. His figure was tall, dressed in all black with a row of medals displayed on his breast pocket. His stare was dark, irises the colour of burnt whiskey, pale lashes flickering down at you before looking back up. The rest of his face was covered by a woven garment, handcrafted to perfection, painted with a white skull.

“Did you find it necessary to throw her at my feet like she’s some dog?”

“Your Majesty she was res-“

“It is a yes or no question.”

His voice was thick with malt, a hidden arrogance underlying his words as his eyes spoke for him. A veiny hand was offered to you, light scars tracing his knuckles before he lifted you, admiring you for a brief second.

“She’ll do. I’ll be back in 6 months,” The King spoke roughly.

The sea breeze was tranquil given the circumstances, the ocean rocking your tears to a halt as you huddled yourself away in the captain’s quarters. Your body was trailed with layers of silk, dirtied clothes moulded to your skin as you sniffled. There was a vast smell of salt, almost suffocating you as it burnt through your nose and hair. You scrunched your skin, rubbing at your nostrils before nestling yourself into a pillow.

You awoke to the sound of commotion. You took in the handful of women surrounding you, their hair tied back in a tight bun, protected by a frilly cap. They wore black and white dresses, aprons attached to their fronts and smiles on their faces.

“Good evening, your majesty. Shall we run you a bath?”

You sat up, hands creasing against the sheets below you as your eyes adjusted to the new scenery. You weren’t on the ship anymore.

“Where am I?” You choked out, huffing your chest out to look more intimidating. In reality, you look cowered, skin droopy with betrayal, burst blood vessels evident under your eyes.

“In your private quarters, the King requested we come to you, settle you in.”

You scowled, “I just want to be alone.” They left in a hurry, feet skidding against the floor in a squeak as they shut the large oak doors behind them.

The room was one for Royalty. The large bed was dressed in golden sheets, red swirls detailing the plush headpieces, solid gold baubles along the edges as tall stakes met the ceiling, lace hanging from them for privacy. Your feet hit the polished marble floors; calloused skin not used to such luxury that you almost yelped in unfamiliarity. Glass trickled from the overhead chandelier, an arrangement of crystals advocating flickers of light across the room, an occasional rainbow seeping through like a diamond in the rough.

Oil paintings hung from the walls, detailed gold wrapping around them as the figurines stared at you dauntingly. A plethora of books rested on shelves, a comforting sofa tucked away in the corner, highlights of red bursting through the stuffed pillows, plucked by the finest of feathers.

The room felt suffocating, the air a terminal sickness that wove into your lungs as you realised the severity of the situation. Your father – your parents, had sold you away to the King to pay for lost taxes. You were a miserable sight as you huddled over onto the floor, chest collapsing with cries as you attempted to grip the material beneath your knees, desperate for the sensation of sand.

Simon watched you intently from the door as he cracked it open, a deafening cough sounding from him as you looked up at him, bewildered.

“I understand the circumstances aren’t the best, but your people owed me, and they chose you as collateral.”

“I want to go home,” you hiccupped, facing away from him in humiliation. His leather shoes hit the floor, striding up to you in only a few steps.

“This is your home now, and in a few weeks, we shall be wedded. Whether or not you choose to invite your family is up to you, but I shall not tolerate disrespect. If you didn’t want the maids to tend to you, that’s fine, but I will.”

You watched his stalking figure disappear into another room attached to your quarters, the heavy pour of water indicating that he was running you a bath. You rose to your feet anxiously, popping your head around the corner as you took in the room. A large tub was carved with porcelain, wide in size with golden feet, bubbles guzzling under the powerful stream as the scent of lavender filled the air.

“Undress,” He spoke as you cocked a brow.

“In front of you?” You scoffed.

“You didn’t want the maids, now you have me. Undress.”

Your clothes itched as they were ridden from your skin, bare body flushed under the light as you attempted to conceal yourself from his bruising vision. The water scolded you as you sunk in, muscles relaxing instantly under the soothing oil. It was an irregular feeling.

You heard him shuffle behind you as you turned, eyes gawking wide as you took in his naked figure, cock resting low against his thigh. A squeak slipped through your lips as you turned around in a fluster.

His mask was off, his face a welcoming surprise. His brows were thick, bulging above slit frames, his nose slightly crooked with a masculine appeal to him.

“What are you doing?” you gasped, chest tight, eyes bulging.

“Bathing,” he practically snarled, “move over.”

Your belly felt hot, the unknowing feeling of arousal seeping through your pores as you adjusted in the water, the liquid rising as he stepped in before you were pulled back against him, bottom flushed against his thighs. You were tense.

“Relax, it’s just a bath. We will not do anything until you’re ready but after marriage, I will need heirs.”

“Heirs? I don’t even know your name!”

A hand coiled around your waist, tugging at the tender skin for a moment before it rested, settling at your upper thigh.

“It’s Simon, Y/N.”

“How do you- “

“What kind of King would I be if I didn’t even know the name of the woman I’m marrying?”

The air was hazy with steam, almost suffocating you as you felt yourself relax against his hard chest, delicate twirls of hair tickling against your spine. As your body settled, Simon washed you, entwined rag lubed with delicate soap as he massaged it into the crevices of your skin, any dirt seeping into the water. His fingers were long as they massaged against your scalp, digging any knots out with a gentle force before rinsing it.

You found yourself refreshed as you settled into the sheets once more, body fresh with a floral scent, skin drenched in almond oil, the glistening reflecting against the flame of the fireplace. The bed sunk in as Simon crawled in next to you, menacing frame wracking against yours. It was silent, the usual sound of waves and birds no longer hushing you to sleep.

Your fingers twitched as you played with the hem of your nightgown, letting out a low, exhausted breath.

“I shall not hurt you for as long as you are mine, Y/N. I hope you grow to trust me and understand that I am a man of my word. If you allow me, I would like to show you who I am and the life you can have here.”

You swallowed. There was an itch inside you that couldn’t be scratched, his words only adding fuel to an uncontrollable flame as you turned to face him, cocked up on one arm. Your gown hung low, strap dangerously low on your shoulder as he adjusted his vision back to your face, lips parted with a flushed manner.

“I’ve never experienced anything before.” Your voice was low, an evident streak of self-consciousness staining it as you averted your gaze.

“Let me help you.”

Rugged fingers lifted your gown up, silk resting against your stomach in a hunched manner as Simon gripped at your thighs, spreading them lewdly. He huffed out a hum of appreciation as you jolted in embarrassment. You were so open, so exposed to fresh eyes.

“No one’s ever touched you here?” He asked. You shook your head, gazing down at him with an unspoken innocence. You felt his lips curl against your thigh as he placed a gentle kiss to it, letting it rest against the warm skin before two fingers pulled apart your lips, glistening folds presented before him.

You felt pleasure tickle up your spine as the King placed a small kiss against your clit, a mewl escaping you as you instinctively attempted to press your thighs together. He let out a tsk as he looked up at you, amused by your reaction.

“Relax for me,” he said, arms flushed around your thighs before his tongue soaked up the middle, your juices drenching his lips as you squealed, your fingers wrapping into his dusty hair as he ravaged the taste of you.

The noises you made were wanton, slopping breaths soaking the air as he worked against you, slurping you into his mouth with an aggravated need for you. His teeth grazed against your sensitive clit, wrapping his lips around it before sucking, an obscene scream sounding from you as he continued the assault.

“Taste so fucking good,” he quipped, holding your belly down in place as your hips lifted, clit overstimulated by the amount of pleasure it only just began receiving.

“Sim-Simon, I feel strange- somethings happening,” you croaked, pulling at his hair in an attempt to stop him.

“Let it happen,” he growled, his tongue thrusting against your entrance as a finger pressed against your nub, rubbing it in circular motions as you began to hold your breath.

The pressure in your belly was turmoil like an unknown danger was approaching. Simon didn’t stop, the sound of your breath hicking stirring something primal inside of him as he held you down before the pressure inside you popped, a broken whine piercing the air as you came, hips rocking desperately against the King’s face as he growled against your heat.

He pulled away, spit slick against his chin, cocky smile on his face as you panted, chest rising and falling in a synchronised fashion. Your legs closed instinctively, wetness seeping between your bottom as you shivered, satisfied clit throbbing.

“I’m not done yet, sweetheart.”

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 5

[prompt: face sitting]

male reader x ahn yujin

3.5k words

Yujin is giving you shit when it happens.

It’s been a little over an hour since she turned to you, bored and pouty about it, and asked if you wanted to fuck again.

She gives you shit in the way only the prettiest girls can get away with. Perfect smile, like she's innocent. And all low and breathy in her throat. Hitched around the vowels of your name. Threatening enough that you thought about just immediately capitulating. It was tempting. 

"Or you could stay on the floor like a lame loser bummin’ around in your pajamas." She leans up on the arm of the sofa. "Either way."

Yujin stretches and her sweater is huge. One of those cozy campus crewnecks that everybody seems to have, oversized and inviting and right. Her shorts are ridiculously small, just enough of her stomach peeking out over her waistband for you to want to feel it, touch it, have the pleasure of sinking your tongue into the shallow groove.

She's teasing you because she never quite knows what to do with her energy. Lacks an outlet big enough, really, but is also selfishly delighted in getting any response at all, no matter how halfhearted it might be. You stare at her. You watch and don't speak when she runs her fingers up her stomach to pull her sweater up with it. You groan. She grins. She is pretty, her lips full and eyes soft. The laugh that follows her is because it's always obvious when she's won and you wish your body wasn't so prone to giving away your weaknesses.

"Hey." She blinks slowly, lifting one leg up. Her bare foot, warm, toes flexed, against your thigh, nudges against you once, and again.

"How many orgasms until I feel a little more forgiving towards my good friend who, I know, is super super sorry that he can't afford the pizza money because he chose to use his own allowance to do something as silly as pay rent, I wonder?"

"I paid half last time."

"Doesn't make sense because you ate it all.

"You said you weren't hungry." You start to object because you do have an objection. A list, actually, prepared, of instances you think you're owed. But Yujin arches, and when a separate but related complaint rises swiftly to the foreground, your throat goes dry -

"Orgasm tax."

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” she asks, and you’re struggling to answer truthfully, honestly.

She rolls over, lets you see everything she has, the tiniest shorts in the world tugged even higher, the generous curve of her ass and thighs in silhouette. You didn't ask for this but you weren’t about to die without it, you think, looking up from the floor and staring, wetting your lips, absolutely sure. She does it all on her own and it takes an absurd amount of effort to peel your hands off the ground.

"Stay where you are," she snaps, seeing it too - and in a second of deliberate slowness, hooks two fingers into her shorts, tugging them aside before looming over you. "Or you're not fucking me today. At all."

You let your head thud down against the rug beneath you. "That's not fair."

"You've gotta come up with something better than that. You could suck up, beg, maybe I'd forgive you if you just told me how much better I was than the cash I could use on literally whatever."

Your eyes cut down.

Part of you wonders if you've always been such an easy mark - whether being here has changed you, if all these months of dangling carrots in front of you are paying off or if you're just a willing accomplice to your own exploitation.

Part of you isn't stupid. Yujin's taken an almost disturbing amount of pleasure in flaunting herself since the first night you drank too much, said too much, resisted too little - you can tell the way it starts, a smile toying in the corner of her mouth, before she taps the band of her bra, waits to hear you swallow - to hear how hot you get - before she casually asks what it would take, "to convince you", to change the conversation from whether she wants something from the vending machine, or she just forgot it was laundry day, or where the hell that note from Wonyoung had gone, to what she'd like the answer to be. What would you let her do if it got you another chance to get under her shirt, see her all bared, eyes dark and hair like a veil across her collarbones, pretty nipples and swells of her breasts pushed up, until you put your mouth on her.

Yujin tilts her hips so it's easier for you to follow, her hand snaking beneath her body as she speaks. A gentle grunt gets muffled in her sweater, her toes curling into the space between your knees and it hurts, stings a little, the desire you're holding back, and then it goes right through you like fire, sharp.

(Part of you is incredibly stupid - but you think the truth is it doesn't matter.)

Yujin's kneeling over your chest, and her bottom lip, plump and lush, catches between her teeth. "Can you think of anyway to be useful?"

"A lot," you choke. It's true.

Yujin makes a noise. "Proof. Evidence. Put up."

The movement she makes - twisting of legs and stomach flexing and the fabric of her shorts down off her ankles - is one single, fluid motion and for a second you're distracted by how quickly she's gotten you there. Thighs resting over your shoulders, the only thing your lungs seem to remember how to do is want.

"Come on." She bounces her knees a bit. "Dick or mouth, get going."

You should really say something smart, show her how clever and charming you can be, how you've actually got a lot to show the hottest girl in the world - and sometimes Yujin giggles like she's shocked  about it all herself, but right now her eyebrows are raising, expectant and challenging and it makes it difficult to think when there's an open invitation inches away for you to bury yourself in. Your lips feel like sandpaper when you kiss the inside of her thigh. Her hips stutter and drop an inch as your tongue works its way out, thick and obscene and it shouldn't be so thrilling to hear her so low, so urgent when you have no say, really, in how this is going to go -

"Take care of me, yeah?" she practically whispers the words - all while your fingertips drag along her outer thighs until her spine straightens, gets her shoulders pushed back, her breathing louder, somehow, as if you couldn't feel her need without knowing already exactly what you can do for her.

And the most honest thing you could say in the moment, because Yujin has her panties stretched to the side, revealing the inviting creases where her long legs meet her hips - for god’s sake, her pussy is right fucking there, inches in front of you; glistening slightly in her own slick and looking so, so pretty - the words get kissed right into the curve of her thigh: "It's not fair."

The look she gives you makes it worth it. "Excuse me?"

"You asked, didn't you. It's not fair that your pussy's so good that I can't think about anything else."

She huffs, her thighs shaking just a little with the effort of staying put. "So, what," and your mouth closes in, kiss deep, your nose pressed in right at the peak of her folds, her entrance, and you try not to drool as you inhale and drag the flat of your tongue in, hard, where she's desperate for you, "you think this should all go in reverse or something, like I should worship your dick until you stop being a useless perv - "

But the insult dies in her throat. A moan comes out instead, harsh, deep, loud and enough that Yujin slaps her palm over her own mouth before throwing an impatient scowl down at you.

Here's what you'd tell her, if you weren't busy licking circles into the ache leaking from her core, eating her cunt like a starving man, if you had the audacity. Yujin can't control herself. Doesn't help that she's sloppy. When her orgasm hits she will get louder and she doesn't even like the things that come out. That's the thing about Yujin, really. She says all this shit, and really, in the end, she wants a good fuck so bad she can't keep her mouth shut, but the noises she makes are exactly the same as the sounds that you choke on -

Because as pretty and easy and fun to kiss as she can be, the absolute best thing about your relationship is that the more orgasms she gets the less she can breathe, much less control what the fuck she's saying to you. It's cute and hilarious and beautiful, when she forgets, when she gives everything up because in the end it's never any competition, the way she fucks, is so desperate. Her hips work themselves into your grip, over and over and over again, like they are meant for this. 

For getting off on your mouth alone.

All you know right now is that with the way you have your hands on her - one still holding her panties open and the other squeezed tight around the muscle of her outer thigh - it's like her clit's directly in line with the back of your throat. If you press your lips around her pussy and hold them firm, just like the way her knees are starting to tighten around your face, she's going to come. It will hurt her and it will leave her completely boneless, and you've fucked this much to the point where you have learned, well, she can never complain.

Not that she would. The slick dripping down your cheeks and throat and down to the front of your shirt - it's fucking everywhere - makes it obvious: any ability to talk is replaced with her just grinding her pussy against you, bucking and shouting, riding and writhing until you decide her pretty little pink slit can have another taste. 

Her only other option, really, is clenching and throbbing and cumming as hard as she can all over your waiting tongue.

"Hey. Get your fucking mouth back down," she breathes, taking her fingers out of her cunt and then promptly pushing your head back in, "and - uhnn, I - yeah, exactly. Mmmnghh - "

You smile, muffled and hot against the fabric of her thighs, her fingers twisting in the hair behind your ears and tugging firmly. "Oh."

"What did you want again?" she asks - except her body tells a different story, all flushed and keening and, fuck, absolutely soaked from your touch - she rocks against the base of your chin, slumping and dropping down and letting gravity do its work. You work your tongue over her throbbing clit, again, again, and Yujin moans loudly. So pleased.

Just this mess she's made of you. The smell that coats your nose, and chin, the way it feels when she ruts her whole body against the place where she's worked the hardest. Her breath stalls where you start to breathe in, and looking up at the cinched look in her face you press further.

It’s every little circle lick and lave and gentle nudge of the tip of your nose, where the feeling makes her cry out, where the sensation, overstimulated, is close to that perfect balance between too much and not quite enough, all while working your fingers into the swell of her ass, and finally her hips make small, greedy, selfish thrusts into your mouth.

She sobs for you. You sigh, contented, because you don't even need to ask.

"You're so fucking good," she murmurs, heel of her palm pushed into her eyes like she's struggling with a headache. "God, fuck, do that again."

It's so wet on your chin already, but you do it again, just for the way she bucks into it.

You give her the closest thing you have, your thumb riding the rim of her ass, tongue rubbing, stroking her pussy faster. Yujin's teeth work against the insides of her mouth as her hips shift forward, and she is clenching and begging for the cock you know would make her scream if you just stood her on her hands and fucked her from behind - it's such a cruel way of making her work to feel so fucking amazing - but you're here to indulge, and really, when she shivers and pleads the exact way she does, your mouth still full, how are you supposed to do anything besides fucking obey.

Yujin reaches up to grab onto the edge of the couch, anything to brace herself as her cunt sloppily gets wetter. The thickest part of your tongue is good enough for this. Everything about her clit is just this dull, swollen throb. Begging to be worked over the way you're licking at the entrance to her pussy, inside and all, kissing, sucking, kneading, pulling, - fucking her just right - until she starts fucking cursing up a storm.

"Oh god, god, oh fuck fuck, fuck," her hips shift until she's the only one riding, the only one fucking. Until you just get to lay there with your lips slack, drooling open, hands a frame for her entire body while she works your face, and nothing could be better - "yeah, oh, fuck, fuck yes - yeah - fuck, hahhh. You're going to make me fucking cum-"

And you almost say it: that's your line - it's not enough, you'll never have enough of her cunt - her clit or the slit, where she leaks, thick and sticky. Her slick tastes heavy on your tongue, and you can't swallow fast enough. Your fingers are so deep into the pliable skin of her ass - digging and needy and reaching for where she's tightest. Her hands pull sharply at your hair. You feel her, tightening her ass around your finger, cumming wet across your cheekbones and -

It goes on, her body pressing into you, until with a sudden snap of a cry, she cums.

“God, fuck-”

If Yujin doesn't have to see the look on your face after getting her off this hard, it's only because the pressure in her body has her knees across your eyes forced shut. A spasm clenches, almost rhythmic, through her thighs, and god, Yujin just cums her brains out. It's pretty hot. You make it count: pushing your fingers just as deep into her pussy, working, exploring - right as her whole body is tensing and coming apart and your other hand circles, two fingers, dipping down and through the cleft of her ass and into her tightest, hottest hole -

You know better than to rub at her entrance once the ripples and waves start - instead, it's more pressure.

Pushing up as deep as you can and your lips mouthing at her folds while her hips squirm for something harder, something stronger and with intent - like, maybe, if she thinks she is trying to push away, she will start to believe that the mess running from her hole isn't hers. It's yours. All that liquid heat pooling below her and what could ever make sense other than she needs more? She needs the way she trembles and shakes, the way her pussy weeps as you wring it for the pleasure that's well on its way -

You always feel like an idiot after, stupid with how much you enjoy this, what she gives you, but how could it be anything but fantastic, your vision dizzying when it swims from lightheadedness and the lack of oxygen to your brain. Yujin's holding you right where she needs, right between her thighs and next to perfection, just tight enough for you to groan, to make a low whine build in the back of your throat and that gets her, too.

There is the rush and a wave, the heat, of something that crests and breaks in her that has to match the absolute loss of control she seems to have all along - the only part you feel you are sure about is that Yujin always rides her cunt - all dripping lips and aching holes, swollen and flaring and practically begging to be fucked harder and more thoroughly - into every orgasm she's taken from you, until there's no where to run.

Even through your nose, and you're suffocating, her legs trembling with the rush of it all. You're gasping and shaking but she's shaking apart and you need that: to feel her melt from where her body collapses all its weight onto you and the way the aftershocks have to make it seem, at least for a moment, that she’ll never, ever recover.

"Fuck," Yujin sighs, "I fucking hate you."

(Translation: she can't fucking live without you.)

"Any time," you murmur and her entire body falls into you, straddled across your chest and slumped there, sweaty and spent. Your heart beats the moment, trying to remember when it was you could stop feeling this way about your roommate.

A part of you believes that, once upon a time, before all of this started, that your desire, your lust was rooted in seeing a friend who was beyond hot and simply unavailable.

A bigger part of you knows that asking for clarity isn't the point - because maybe, right now, in the way your hand has started massaging the soft skin under the curve of her spine, you should realize you can't live with it never happening again.

"What's my balance," you ask, rubbing your thumb into the crook behind her knee.

"Mm?"

You exhale.

"Two. I think you're good for two."

You laugh. "For real?"

She stretches.

"Or I suppose we can go for four or five, but that means you're paying for dinner, too." Yujin does this thing with her hair when she's excited. Swings it back, smiling wide.

Which is fair, you think, given the pulse between your legs throbbing and twitching as you picture it: the curve of Yujin's waist and the drop of her lower back, her bare ass. Her soaked little slit that can't help but beg to fucked and fucked and fucked, until she's trembling and quivering and leaking-

"Then I'm gonna eat," you promise her, "every last inch. Going to taste you and swallow."

Yujin shifts, sitting astride you.

You hum. "Still interested."

She simply kisses you - breathes you in - tasting herself on your lips and tongue, before leaning back with her palms flat against your chest and taking it slow as she starts to ease you into the kind of sex that doesn't leave either one of you with a throat quite so raw and dry.

So it's quiet in your apartment, just for a little while, when the afternoon starts to settle in and she rolls back onto her heels, not able to support the rest of her. You fuck her deep and it's amazing how quickly you both fall into rhythm. Yujin's clutching hard on either side of your hips. Folding herself back. Trying, by the end, to bury you where her fingers have been.

By the time she gets herself up on the couch, belly flat against the cushions and her hips arched back as she fucks herself with the length of your dick, you're just desperate. Aching in a way you know will happen any moment and even so, you can't even bring yourself to consider stopping because this is perfect - it's everything, really. To push her down, hold her still, and fuck her so thoroughly that she cries and shudders as you spill into her.

To have her.

Yujin holds a part of yourself so tender, something you have kept close for far too long, and watching her with her arm reached behind herself, clutching blindly with her fingers, as her moans go quiet with just these whimpery, little things, a thought occurs to you, of exactly how dangerous your roommate is -

Because with you fucking into her like this, this is more than sex ought to be. More than it’s ever been.

(More dangerous yet is thinking: maybe - perhaps - it is exactly what Yujin wanted, from the start.)

[balkanradfem]

I don't get to talk about feminism in real life, because it's not an accepted topic here, it's an 'evil harpy movement' still, despite it getting women the right to vote, own property, own a bank account, be able to be paid for work. The consenus is that normal women don't need to be feminists, we already have the right to vote so what more could we possibly want. I do get to talk with young women about it! When I have some teenagers or young adult women in my life, I am telling them all about it, showing them all the violence statistics, instructing them on all possible methods of abortion, and they are genuinely stunned to gain this information they've never had access to before.

But yesterday, I was at plant lady's house, and I breached the topic of feminism, because I had just entered a feminist book club, and joined a little group of croatian radfems, so I was all up in my ideas about it. And I love the plant lady, she's a beloved figure in my life, but she is both against feminism, and a huge fan of conspiracy theories. So when I started talking about feminism, she interrupted me to tell me that she heard that women, are not in fact, responsible for feminism, but it's actually males in power that are pulling the strings. I explained that we don't even allow m*n to participate in what we do, but she was sure she's right, because, males in power thought it would be cool for women to have jobs and pay taxes, so they invented feminism, to collect more taxes and have more workers. And I knew I couldn't argue her about it because conspiracy theories exist to null every argument against them, right, no matter what I say, she'll have a more incredible explanation. So instead I changed the topic to the problems of sexual violence against women, domestic violence, normalization of pedophilia, and treatment of women like objects due to rampant pornography.

And she's like, no, that doesn't happen, most people are normal and have normal marriages and treat women normally, and these problems, are not the problems of 'feminism', these are things everyone is against – and I say no they're not, m*n don't care, they don't fight against any of it, in fact they're the perpetrators of 90% of these crimes. Then she launches into a story of an abused woman who refused to leave her husband because she loved him. I explain to her that this is incredibly common and it's called 'cycle of abuse', and we can resolve this by teaching women very early on about this cylce, that it can easily happen to them no matter what kind of husband they choose, and to recognize the signs early, before it comes to worst, and for women who are going trough it, they need all this euducation too. What is happening currently is nobody is talking about it and we pretend it doesn't exist and then victim-blame women when they get abused. Most abused women don't even recognize they're being abused because they're being isolated and told it's their own fault. Then she launched into another story about a woman who she knows was battered who escaped. Then she mentioned another situation she knew with a violent husband, and another with a drunk one. And I'm listening to her like. Hey. You said this doesn't even happen, that it's incredibly rare, but you personally know this many cases? And you know me, I've been living in violence too, remember?

And she just looks at me. Realizing for a second that it's not that rare. She didn't argue with me. She previously really thought about each and every case she knew as an outlier, something so improbable and rare that it wasn't really a social problem. She told me then, that we can't really help these people, because police only makes it worse, so what do we even do. I told her it's important that we talk about it, that we offer resources and teach women early on to recognize abuse, and to make a point of not blaming women for it, to make it clear any male could do it to them at any point, to be ready for it, to reconsider marrying, to have a separate bank account, to never let their survival and housing be completely dependant on a male.

I also indulged her to think why women can find themselves in these situations in the first place? If we're so equal, how come it's possible women don't have anywhere to go to, and need to stay in the abusers house to just survive. I said it has something to do with parents usually leaving their houses and properties to sons, and expecting daughters to move into their husbands places, and she again said 'no this doesn't happen', and I went 'well why don't these abused women just move into their own houses they inherited from their parents' and she again, had no arguments. It's not the sole reason though, women earn less too, get less promotions, get paid less for the same job, still mostly do unpaid labour, dedicate a big part of their life to raising children on their own, they don't get to accumulate funds and properties in the same ways m*n do.

Anyway, while we were having this entire conversation, her 18yo daughter was there, listening to us, and miraculously, she seemed to agree with me! When the plant lady claimed 'there's so many normal ones out there', the daughter interrupted to say 'no mom, there's no normal m*n out there, I can't find anyone normal', and I immediately supported her claim with agreement. I was so happy to be a little feminist influence on her and to validate her point! She was also wearing a shirt that said 'grl pwr' and I was like 'yes this is great' even though it's just a liberal catchphrase, it's still a sign of wanting women to have power in the world that doesn't believe a word they say.

I think the type of attitude the plant lady has is extremely common for women in our country, in fact she was very receptive to what I was saying. She knew about this many cases of domestic abuse, because she was often the safe person for these women to tell, and she has been helping the ones who escaped, me included.

Most women I know will launch in defense of males and trashing of women as soon as you mention feminism, because it's the only socially accepted thing to do. I believe we all have women in our lives who are not malicious or terribly ignorant, but affected by the mainstream beliefs that women are asking for too much, already have everything, and are at fault for everything that happens to them; this is incredibly pervasive and impossible to debate in a conversation. It's so ingrained in women to go against anything that makes m*n look bad, it's almost considered a sin and a hate crime to even think this way. Like something a bad, selfish, bitter, irrational and greedy woman would do, and nobody wants to be dubbed that. I remember thinking this way myself when I was a teen; I wanted to hold males responsible so bad, but the shame of being seen as this hateful and bitter person was getting to me, to the point where I would silent down and not speak out.

I used to get so angry at anti feminists, and would avoid indulging with the topic because it would irritate me so much, but I've gained more understanding as I go on, and can now tolerate the opposing arguments when I know they've come from propaganda and social pressure, rather than ignorance or hunger for approval. I'm more effective being able to indulge a little! Not a lot though. If I spent a lot of my time trying to argue with anti-feminists I would in fact, wither and die.

[ixtaek]

Who in the Chain pays taxes?

Twilight - Twilight has helped finance two separate businesses, one of which is right under the castle’s nose. There’s no way he can play the “I don’t have money” card. But he’s also from Ordon, which seems to be its own semi-autonomous region. So I suspect he pays some village taxes but Dusk keeps him from having to pay Hyrulian taxes. She also hired someone to audit MaloMart so it evens out in the end.

Warriors - He definitely pays taxes. Taxes, in turn, pay his salary.

Time - Time does not pay taxes and complains about taxes often. Malon actually is the one paying.

Wild - Pre-Calamity he paid taxes like Warriors. Now, there are no taxes. It’s better this way.

Four - Pays his taxes but sends them with a bill for all the swords he makes the Royal guard which is always, curiously, about twice the amount he just paid in taxes. Picking up the refund is an excuse to see Dot. He uses the fact he pays taxes as evidence he’s an adult when people mistake him for a child.

Hyrule - I am convinced that Hyrule doesn’t really understand money. He does not pay taxes.

Legend - He would not pay taxes except the Hylian equivalent of the IRS has been side-eyeing Ravio’s shop a long time, so to avoid an audit or raid while he’s away, he pays both of their taxes and hates every second. Ravio has never paid taxes in his life and won’t start now.

Sky - You don’t have to pay taxes if you’re married to a goddess~

Wind - In spite of being a literal child he is wanted for tax evasion.

[sailorstar9]

My Stepsister Seduces My Husband, But What She Doesn’t Know Is That...

F/N and Zhongli had their wedding shortly after the Lantern Rite Festival.

Everyone thought F/N found a handsome man, not knowing the truth. They were all deceived by his chiselled face and body; F/N's step-sister was one of those deceived. Because no one, save for the Adepti in Liyue Harbor, knew that Zhongli was the Prime Adepti.

After the most recent 'Rite of Descension', he started to work at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour as its consultant.

A few days after the Lantern Rite Festival, F/N brought Zhongli home to visit her parents. They brought along three large boxes of gifts along with Gaming and a fellow guard from the Transport Agency. It was Zhongli first meeting with his wife's family.

The presence of Zhongli and the two Transport Agency guards scared F/N's biological father and stepmother.

The dinner table was set after Zhongli paid Gaming and his partner for their services.

F/N's step-sister, dressed to the nines, kept helping Zhongli to food, trying to impress him. “My sister is merely a junior tax agent working at the Ministry of Civil Affairs. And yet she found such a wonderful man like brother-in-law. I envy her; unlike me who works hard training under Director Yun every day, afraid to eat more just to maintain my figure. I might be able to perform alongside the Director some day and may not even find a partner as good as brother-in-law.” she sighed, showing off by pinching her slim waist.

F/N's step-sister, Zhen Yu, was brought by F/N's stepmother; their two families were from divorced and remarried families.

A few years ago, F/N's mother died from a rock slide while working at The Chasm. Shortly after that, F/N's father quickly got together with Zhen Yu's mother after a meeting with the marriage broker.

Ever since Zhen Yu entered the household, the two step-sisters never got along. Zhen Yu especially loved competing with F/N. When Y/N pulled her hair into a bun with a hair stick, Zhen Yu would also bun up her hair the next day with an extra hair stick. When F/N was thirteen, a boy from the neighbourhood gave her a love letter. Zhen Yu then intentionally wore a floral dress in front of him and claiming F/N was dirty and didn't bathe. Seeing the boy flee from embarrassment, Zhen Yu smirked to herself. Later, when F/N approached Yun Jin for an apprenticeship, Zhen Yu followed suit and applied. She cried pitifully, saying she didn't dare to ask for much. And if her real father was around, he would definitely be willing to send her.

The Yun-Han Opera Troupe apprenticeship fees were very high and the family could only afford to send one person.

F/N's father, feared being accused of favouritism by his new wife, sent Zhen Yu to Yun Jin.

F/N gritted her teeth and started working, using the Mora she saved from her salary to pay for her way through law school.

Later, when F/N brought a classmate home to introduce him as her boyfriend, Zhen Yu also stole him from F/N.

At this moment, when Zhongli heard Zhen Yu's words, he put down his chopsticks with a bang. He frowned slightly but didn't say anything, just overturning his bowl on the table. “My apologies.” he started. “I don't like anyone, except my wife, serving me food. I'm disgusted by the saliva.”

Zhen Yu was stunned, her face flashed with embarrassment. She looked at Zhongli plaintively, “I'm not a stranger.” she whined.

Zhongli did not say a word and just pointed his knee with a finger. “Move your feet under the table away from my legs.”

F/N peered under the table cloth, noticing Zhen Yu's foot was reaching under her chair to try and touch Zhongli's leg.

Zhen Yu was instantly dumbfounded; after all, this trick of hers always worked. It's not something a normal person would point out directly. Seeing everyone in the family glance at her, she was so embarrassed that she quickly explained, “Brother-in-law, have you all misunderstood something? If you don't like me serving food, it's okay. I know my sister is usually petty, but I really don't mean anything by it.”

F/N's step-mother immediately spoke up, “Mr. Zhongli, this is Zhen Yu's goodwill. She usually looks down on everyone, never being so gentle and caring. It's just a kind gesture. Did F/N say anything to cause you to misunderstand?”

F/N father also chimed in, “Our table is small. Bumps are inevitable. Don't think so much about it. Zhen Yu is just caring for her brother-in-law.”

As F/N watched her father's and step-mother's behaviour, she couldn't help but sneer. Zhen Yu had done this kind of thing not just once or twice; they had always turned a blind eye and they weren't any different now.

As soon as they finished speaking, Zhongli unbuttoned the top button of his suit with a somewhat amused smile. F/N was about to get angry at her father's words, but he patted her shoulder. Then, he manifested a sharp Geo shard from his palm. Letting the shard twirl above his palm, he said, “F/N has told me everything about the family. Let me make it clear to you all. F/N is my wife. If you still want to bully her in the future, don't blame me for being ruthless.” snarling at the three of them after he dispelled the Geo shard, he added, “Respecting you as F/N's parents, I won't speak any dirty words. If you don't want trouble, don't let your attention wander to my wife.”

F/N's father opened his mouth, his face red with rage, wanting to say something, but he knew he was helpless against a Vision user. Infuriated and trembling, he yelled, “How dare you... how could you find such ruffians?”

F/N simply cleared her throat and grabbed Zhongli's arm. “Ruffians? Dad, don't talk nonsense. Don't you know Zhongli is a renowned consultant at Wangsheng Funeral Parlour?”

Zhen Yu and F/N's step-mother's faces turned so ugly it could have dripped ink. They probably couldn't continue eating that meal.

Zhongli didn't say much as the conversation had ended. “it's getting late.” he started. “You should rest early. I'll take F/N home.” with that, he wrapped his arm around F/N's waist and walked away.

Turning back to her childhood home as she and Zhongli walked to the walk path, F/N saw Zhen Yu glaring furiously. F/N, it's not over between us. She swore. I must have your man. There's no cat in the world that doesn't steal fish. Just you wait and see.

“Looks like my step-sister has set her sights on you.” F/N turned to Zhongli.

F/N was surprised when her father paid her a visit at her workplace, bringing ham to apologize.

“Your mother's favourite was ham, you know.” F/N's father spoke, picking a piece of Minty Meat Roll at Wanmin Restaurant at lunchtime.”

“Alright.” F/N sighed, knowing her father's underlying intentions. “Here's the address.” she wrote down her current lodging address on a piece of paper.

“Let Zhen Yu bring them over to you.” F/N's father suggested. “She also wants to apologize to you.”

Using family ties to deceive me. F/N wondered after her father left the restaurant after paying for his share of the meal. Was it just a ploy to get Zhen Yu my address? It seemed like my sister hadn't given up; still determined to win Zhongli over.

Sure enough, that weekend, Zhen Yu showed up at F/N's door, knocking. She was dressed in a figure-hugging qipao and high heels.

Seeing F/N answer the door, she hesitated for moment, collecting her flirtatious look. “Your place is hard to find. My feet ache from all that walking.” she whined.

“Then, why don't you hire a transport agency?” F/N was not amused.

“How could I?” Zhen Yu complained. “I've come to apologize in person. I wasn't being polite the other day.”

Then, she simply entered without taking off her shoes and gave a glance around. “Is Zhongli not at home?”

“He's out getting bamboo shoots.” F/N answered, just as Zhongli came in with several bamboo shoots in a basket.

As soon as he saw Zhen Yu, his eyebrows farrowed and he gave F/N a questioning look.

“I couldn't help it.” F/N shrugged. “She sticks like glue.”

Zhen Yu's eyes lit up when she saw Zhongli. She practically skipped over, but before she could take a few steps, she tripped and fell in front of the married couple. She rubbed her legs awkwardly, “I think I sprained my foot. Honey, could you help me up?”

“You're an adult and you can't even walk properly without tripping on flat ground.” F/N chided. “Maybe you should get checked up at the Bubu Pharmacy.”

Zhen Yu pouted when Zhongli just walked over her and into the kitchen.

“Why bother with her?” the Lord of Geo looked at his wife as they prepared ingredients for Oncidium Tofu.

“She's like a rush that you can't shake off.” F/N replied, slicing the tofu.

Zhen Yu, feeling awkward, noticed that neither of the couple were paying attention to her. After a while, she picked herself up before darting towards the kitchen. “Is Zhongli the one who cooks at home? It must be hard for you; working to support the family then coming home to cook for my sister. When I have a husband, I won't let him cook for me. Cooking is women's work. Men shouldn't be in the kitchen.”

Zhongli poured himself a cup of Chenyu Brew, blew across the tea cup and took a sip to calm himself down. Rolling up his sleeves, he downed the entire cup, revealing his entire sleeve tattoo. “What's on the menu tonight? Let's cook this.” he looked coldly at Zhen Yu.

“Cook...” Zhen Yu stuttered, her face turning pale at the golden diamond-shaped tattoos decorating Zhongli's arms. “In our house, both of us handle the inside. Do you have a problem with that?”

“I don't have a problem.” Zhen Yu stammered. “I just feel sorry for my sister. It's not easy for you.”

“You're not someone to me.” Zhongli replied dismissively. “Why should I pity you?”

F/N pulled the still shell-shocked Zhen Yu away, “It's better to just give up. Not all men fall for your tricks.”

“Wasn't my brother-in-law just joking?” Zhen Yu recomposed herself with a forced smile as she prepared to leave F/N's house. “He's really funny.”

“Don't worry, mom.” Zhen Yu assured her mother once she returned home. “There was a small mistake there. There's no man I can't handle. I'm set on winning Zhongli and making F/N miserable. You didn't visit their house. You don't know they live in a house bigger than ours and they have more antiques than us. It's just her husband seems a bit off but rich people all have their quirks. It's normal. F/N is not as attractive as me. Why should she have such a good husband? She must have tricked him. Wait and see. I used to steal all her boyfriends. Now I will steal her husband too. Men are all the same.”

“Now, what is this about the ex-fiance of yours?” Zhongli breathed, the couple were cuddling in bed after a night of lovemaking.

Acting upon Zhen Yu's instigation, F/N's former fiance had harassed the couple during lunchtime.

“He's just a cheating scumbag that's not worth mentioning.” F/N replied. “We cut off any contact a long time ago. Zhen Yu is bothering you, not me.”

“So, someone's still yearning for your husband and you're not jealous?” Zhongli quirked an amused smile.

“Of course, I get jealous.” F/N playfully poked Zhongli's bare chest. “But I know not everyone can seduce my man.”

Days later, F/N's relatives begun to gossip about Zhen Yu's dismissal from her apprenticeship. She had bullied her fellow junior troupe members and attempted to seduce the troupe elders' sons to get more prominent roles which backfired when Zhongli made a formal complaint of her misconduct directly to Yun Jin. She was permanently expelled from the opera troupe, ending her dreams of performing alongside the troupe director.

[morganbritton132]

You probably get this all the time, and I don't know why I only thought about this now, but I'm suddenly fascinated by the idea of a government employee who knows about the Upside Down that has been tasked with keeping an eye on Eddie's TikTok page and just constantly being so frustrated

I never get this but I have thought about it at length!!! Lol.

I just picture one overworked and underpaid agent being tasked with the whole *hand waving* Hawkins Situation.

There used to a time when the Hawkins Project was a coveted position given to the best agents with the highest clearance, but now… Now all the gates to the other world have been closed. There’s been no activity in three decades. Brenner’s dead. The Russians defuncted their projects. The girl – Eleven or Jane, or whatever – hasn’t blown anything up since the nineties.

The Hawkins job is a babysitting job with CIA-level clearance, and it’s just… it was supposed to be a cakewalk but. There’s just… there are so many of them.

And for a while, they were spread all over the country.

One of them is a US Senator now and she called the head of the FBI ‘a bitch’ and ‘a coward’ on a hot mic last week, and maybe.

Maybe for the sake of national security and their own sanity, maybe this agent pulled a few strings and dotted a few more I’s than they’re authorized to just to get Lucas Sinclair, Maxine Mayfield-Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Nancy Wheeler, and Robin Buckley back in Chicago.

Maybe they did that. There’s no paper trail, but maybe they did.

It’s easier to keep track of a ‘party’ of people if most of them are in the same state.

This Party – as they fondly call themselves – barely qualified as a threat anymore. They are barely a concern at this point. Only a few of them are considered dangerous enough to require anything more than the occasional check-in. Those people being Jane Hopper, James ‘Jim’ Hopper, Nancy Wheeler, Murray Bauman, and – much to this agent’s annoyance – Edward Munson.

Eddie wouldn’t be a cause for concern if he wasn’t so goddamn loud. He is in no way a threat to national security but the CIA doesn’t love when people allude to a defuncted Cold War project that resulted in an inter-dimensional serial killer murdering a bunch of small town high school students.

This agent does not believe that Eddie Munson knows what an NDA is or that he signed one.

It is one thing to write songs about demon bats and hell spilling into small town Americana or to make your album cover resemble the charred remains of Henry Creel’s disfigured body (‘yeah’ the agent thinks, ‘you’re not that slick, Munson’) but it is something else to announce to your millions of TikTok followers that you got rabies in a hell dimension.

This agent does not have enough pull to persuade Congress to outright ban TikTok and actually thinks that a TikTok ban would be an overreach of government control, but damn if it would not have made their life easier. Though they fear that Munson would just go to YouTube and the idea of longer content makes them shiver.

And by the way, this agent expected better from Steven Harrington!

This agent liked Steve! He was one of their favorites!!

Steve didn’t make waves. He lived a quiet life, paid his taxes, and barely had a social media presence. He was an absolute dream to be monitoring until Eddie downloaded that cursed clock app.

Steve was never viewed on the same threat level as Jane Hopper or Murray Bauman, but he was a closely monitored subject due to his long-term injuries and his time spent in the alternate dimension and the Russian bunker under Starcourt Mall. Despite close monitoring, there is no note in his file of any digression until Eddie started shoving Tiktok in his face.

This agent sits in their office at the CIA’s Chicago location.

In the basement, at the end of a long dusty corridor, beneath a buzzing fluorescent light, they get a notification on their computer. It’s from Tiktok, and this agent breathes in slowly. They rub at the forming headache between their brows and names it Eddie Munson.

They click the notification, waits a second for the shitty wifi to bring them to the app, and watches as Steve Harrington says, “Technically we’re time travelers.”

And they sigh.

[rey-129-fan]

Gotham-Amity Co-op AU

Part 1 | Next

Wow, okay, people seem to really like this. Awesome! Whelp, here's part 2!

“Alright, order.  Order.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a Triple Nasty with cheese, extra mustard and pickles.” Laughs rang out at Dash’s remark as everyone settled in to their seats.  Sam, who stood at the front of the room by a blackboard, just gave the quarterback a flat look while Danny and Tucker snickered at the teacher’s desk.  The group was meeting in an empty classroom at Casper since most were still Casper students, at least for another couple of months until graduation.  Jazz and Kyle, both of whom were attending school in Gotham, were dropping in to visit and attend the meeting.

“We are now beginning the first meeting for the Green Amity Co-o-”

“Oh, we are not calling it that!” Paulina cried out.  Sam’s eye twitched and started to glow slightly as those around the Latina nodded in agreement.

Jazz quickly stepped in.  “While naming something Green in a city that has a known meta Eco-terrorist might not be a good idea, we can discuss names later.  For now, let’s focus on more important matters for the co-op.”

“Right,” Sam sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders.  “So has everyone had a chance to look over the info and pictures Jazz and Kyle were able to gather?”  Getting various conformations, the goth nodded. “Does anyone have any objections on using the building as a Gotham based co-op?”

“Not really.”

“Nope.” 

“None from me.”

“Okay, so we’ll put down an offer to buy the building,” Sam nodded before shuffling around some papers in her hands.  “Next on the agenda is rent.”

“Won’t we own the building?  Why would we need to pay rent?” Dash asked.  Kwan nodded while several others in the group just dropped their heads.

“Because we need to pay for things like utilities and taxes,” Valarie shot back, arms crossed as she stared down her former friend group.

“Not to mention that we should collect some money for potential repairs that will be needed in the future,” Wes added, nodding.  Dash turned and glared at both of them.

“As Val and Wes said, we may own the building, but we still need to gather money to pay for things like water, electricity, internet.  Things needed to make the building usable,” Jazz explained in a less condescending tone, mullifying the blond.

“So we need to figure out how much each utility is and split it between everyone, with a little extra on top to make a fund for repairs?” Danny clarified.

“That is a start, but some people will use more of some things than others.”

“Well, we can always start with it and adjust as we get a better idea of how much it costs and who uses up what amount,” Star said as she stood up and walked over to the board.  She picked up a piece of chalk and began writing down numbers.  “Do we know how much we have to pay for property tax?  From what I could find on the internet, the average cost of utilities in Gotham is about $118 a month, give or take.”

“That lines up with what I saw too, though that doesn’t include internet or phone plans,” Val nodded.

“Well, our phone plans aren’t likely to change, so we don’t need to worry about that.  Most internet plans start about $40 a month,” Tucker added.  Star nodded and added the 40.

“As for property taxes, given the building’s estimated amount, it would be about $15,900 a year, which is paid quarterly.”

Star continued writing.  “So 15,900 a year is 1325 a month.  We currently have 11 people, so that’d be 120.45 per person per month just in taxes.”

“So utilities plus internet and taxes would put us at about $242 a month.”

“Don’t forget insurance and repairs.  Gotham isn’t the safest place, what with all the supervillains,” Danny added.

“Never mind random ghosts dropping in just to fight Fenton.  We’re probably going to have to repair the place more often than the average,” Kwan nodded.

“Hey!  Don’t pin the property damage from ghost fights on me!  It’s mostly the GIW doing that!”

“We know, Danny, but you can’t deny that there are going to be at least a few ghosts that will come just to fight, and the GIW are likely to follow them.”  Danny crossed his arms and grumbled, but conceded.

“We should just double the amount we have for now.  That way we can cover the basics and have enough to cover anything that could come up, while most can afford it with a part-time job,” Tucker suggested.

“It’s a start,” Jazz agreed.

“And if we need to adjust it, we can always discuss it again,”Mikey pointed out.

“Alright, so all in favor of starting rent at $485 a month, raise your hand.” Sam counted the hands in the air.  Eleven.  “Very well.  Up Next: rules.”

“Oh come on!  We’re no longer kids and are going to college!  Why would you wanna create rules?!” Dash protested.

“Just because we’re adults now doesn’t mean that there aren’t still rules we have to follow,” Jazz responded.  “Pretty much any place you could live would have quiet hours and cleanliness requirements.  Plus I’m pretty sure there are places or things that you wouldn’t want others to mess with.” More grumbling was heard but no more protests.  “Now, from what I’ve observed and read on the internet, in general quiet hours are generally between 10-11 pm to about 8 am during the week, with it rolling back an hour on the weekends.  I don’t need it to be that strict, but I would like to have some quiet by the time I’m going to sleep.”

“What exactly do quiet hours entail?  Is it like a curfew?” Mikey asked, pushing up his glasses and looking at the two actual college students.

“Nah man, they’re just the hours you have to be quiet for.  Ya can do whatever ya want, so long as yer not disturbing anyone or keeping them up.  Just don’t do anything that’ll get the cops or Bats on ya, and yer good,” Kyle explained.

“Sweet!”

“So what should these quiet hours be?  Not going to lie, but midnight seems like a good start, especially if you have early morning classes,” Wes spoke up.

“Midnight is good for me.”

“Aw, but what if we want to have a party!”

“Well, if you start at 8, that gives you four hours,” Sam explained, raising her eyebrow.

“A 4 hour party seems to be enough, especially since not all of us would want to have a crazy party outside our door all night,” Val stated, glaring at Dash and Paulina.

“It seems common consensus is quiet by midnight.  What about when they end?”

“Well, most of us will likely have classes starting by 9.  Including travel time and getting ready, we’re likely to be up around 8 or so.  That’d give us 8 hours of quiet to study and fall asleep.”

“So midnight to 8 am for quiet hours?  Any objections?” None were made.

The meeting continued on in much the same way, with only a few protests to some rules, mostly related to shared chores and the creation of a chore schedule.  But these protests were quickly silenced by a glare from Valarie that slowly glowed a slight red the more protests were made.

“Alright, I think we’ve covered everything we set out for today’s meeting,” Jazz said, tapping some papers against the desk she sat at.  She took over the meeting as Sam grew more annoyed.  The goth was now sitting between Danny and Tucker, who were both offering small touches of comfort.  “Remember, if you have any questions, share them in the discord server.  And if you have any suggestions for a name, please feel free to send them to Wes, who will compile them into a poll so we can vote on them in a week.  Now, would anyone like to add anything else?”

A few mutters and shakes were the answer.

“Very well, that concludes this meeting.  Hope everyone has a good summer, and when we next meet, hopefully, it should be in our new building.”

***

Did I seriously just write 1363 more words of set up? Yes, yes I did. I have no regrets. We should be in Gotham starting next chapter and get up to the shenanigans then.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there! I started writing this while I was baking a pie for my own mother.

I am going back and forth on whether Phantom Planet is canon or not, but either way, all of Amity Park knows about Danny in this, but not the outside world, and especially not the GIW. While I do read a lot of bad parent Maddie and Jack, I much prefer to have them as good parents that love and accept both Danny and his little clone/cousin/sister.

Sorry guys, but Bruce is not adopting either Phantom.

Again, feel free to leave suggestions for names for the Co-op, as well as for this little AU itself. Also, suggestions for shenanigans and powers our liminal teens might have outside just glowing eyes.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Hi! What do you think would happen if there was a disease that turned people into yanderes and the reader is immune? So she’s the only sane one, which everyone around her falls in love (romantically and platonically) and turns obsessive?

Hrmm I'd like to take a different approach to this than the original *yandere apocolypse* of which I was thinking. Just wrote down some odd thoughts for this one!

Perhaps two thirds of the world has been inflicted with this specific disease-- making this new population become violent, deranged and utterly--obsessively, in love.

There's the beginning stages of violence and death of course, causing a great chunk of the world to go mad as some yanderes who must share a darling cannot do so. Celebrities, idols, and your local barista who's friends with everyone in town, are constantly in a tug of war battle between their yanderes.

But life seems to somewhat settle down. Everyone still functions as they would in society-- going to the bank and paying their taxes, remaining at their 9 to 5 jobs. But there are far more murders, laws are no longer followed; the daytime has become just as dangerous as the night.

Our dear reader, a cashier for a chain grocery store, has so blessedly not been affected by this newfound disease. They know their residence in a large city and with a social job would not leave them unharmed by this new change to the world. So, they begin to attend support groups for 'darlings,' the victims and (mostly) sane population that has been left. At first the other victims were people they had never seen before, seemingly innocent and normal people who just wanted to go on with their lives. They all seemed to lead a much harder living, with their unending stalkers and vicious pursuers that made them sob for hours as everyone else listened to their woes.

Reader had yet to be targeted, of which offers them a sliver of relief-- until they fear perhaps they have been affected by the disease. But their life continues, without any impulse or desire to snatch anyone up, and without any stalkers or murderers on their trail. Life is almost, weirdly, normal.

They don't watch the news anymore, they go home before it gets dark, and refuse to take any extra shifts with anyone who's been affected by the outbreak. They continue to go to the meetings, out of solidarity and precaution in case they begin to hear footsteps behind them when walking from home or find eyes peeping behind their curtains. However, the support group seemed to have slowly begun to change. Its regular members were beginning to dwindle, less and less showing up regularly. And, there seemed to be an addition of.... hostility, amongst the newer members.

The support group "leader", a man who has thrown reader off since day one, seemed to be far more invested in hearing their experiences with these "attackers" as he called them. As was everyone else, of which were slowly becoming vaguely familiar faces. Not familiar enough to mention it, but to the point where it was beginning to get eerie.

It wasn't until they went to their next shift for work, did they realize why everyone seemed so odd. Customer after customer came up, all purchasing odds and ends that could be suspicious if one paid close enough attention. But all that reader could focus on, was how the eyes of each person seemed to linger upon them, taking notice of their loose work shirt and unkempt hair. It was a common sound to hear heavy breathing from the other side of the counter, odd compliments on how beautiful their eyes were, or deafening silence from customers that didn't utter a word but stared in complete captivity. The next support group meeting, those nameless faces seemed to be far more recognizable. At this point, the original members of which reader had originally met, were nowehere to be found. All that remained, were the uncomfortably familiar customers, and the oddly charismatic leader.

Every eye seemed to be on them, each waiting for them to speak on their experience. But despite the creepy, lustful gazes and hateful glares at one another, there was some form of supportiveness that came from the group. They gave reassuring pats and squeezes, some getting a little handsier than others.

There were a few that reader recognized more than others: the silent, dark haired man that came to their register everyday, the businesswoman who always seemed to loosen her scowl once she saw them, and the couple who seemed a tad more than "friendly." Out of all of them though, reader felt the most reassurance from the group leader-- the man who seemed to dote on them like a parent would, though there was still fear over his constantly nagging questions and downward stare behind his glasses.

It was once reader decided to stop showing up to the increasingly more recent group sessions, did things start to turn sideways. There would constantly be a knock at the door, asking why they weren't there, if something was wrong, if a stalker had gotten to them. But it wasnt until recently did they feel they were being watched, followed, stalked.

Things started to go missing, from their favorite pair of underwear to little knickknacks kept on their desk. Reader had never felt the effects of the disease and its victims, but ever since the uncomfortable shift in the support group, life hadn't been the same.

One fateful afternoon, there came another series of knocks. Reader couldn't take it anymore, and had long given up on answering the door. The knocking continued, however. Thered be a pause, a moment of hesitation, before the pounding began again. Muffled voices could be heard outside readers front door, and suddenly there grew a great fear in their chest.

Not long after, the knocking seemed to occur in other areas around the house. The backdoor echoed as glass was banged on, the windows of their bedroom seemingly pressured by fists that begged to be let in. Their name was called from outside, small and booming voices all begging to be let in, promising that they were only there to help.

Reader covered their ears, crawling under the blankets and rocking themselves to the hope that the noise would go away. And eventually, It did-- only to be replaced with the sound of shattering glass and rushed footsteps.

[steddieas-shegoes]

is that tax fraud?

for @corrodedcoffinfest warm-up round prompt ‘taxes’

rated t | 671 words | cw: language | tags: they’re just so stupid, and I love them, look Steve is here!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never filed taxes?” Jeff asked Gareth as they sat around trying to write a song.

Keyword: trying.

Now it looked like they were gonna be figuring out how to keep Gareth out of fucking prison for tax fraud.

“I thought our band accountant handled it!” Gareth exclaimed.

“We don’t have a band accountant! The label just handles our money!” Jeff exclaimed back.

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Eddie, the voice of reason at this moment, held his hands up towards them. “Technically, Gareth only turned 18 two years ago. That’s only two years of back taxes. And if he’s honest, it’ll be fine! He probably didn’t even make enough the first year for them to care.”

“Well, I did get an inheritance from my grandpa who died,” Gareth said unhelpfully. “Does that count as income?”

Everyone stared at him in shock.

“This is a joke,” Freak said from his spot on the couch. “Has to be.”

“Oh my god, our drummer is actively committing tax fraud,” Jeff put his head in his hands.

“Guys, it’s fine! I’ll just file it all this year,” Gareth assured them.

“We should call someone. Right? Someone should be told about this,” Eddie started pacing the floor, wearing a trail into the shag carpet.

Who even put shag carpet in here? Shag was terrible.

The door swung open and Steve walked in holding three large pizzas and a grocery bag full of sodas.

“They didn’t have any Mountain Dew, but that’s probably for the best. You guys have a conference call in an hour so eat up,” he said as he started setting everything on the coffee table. He looked around when he realized it was way too quiet. “Everything okay?”

“Stevie. I fear our drummer may be going to prison.”

Steve paled. “What? Why?”

“He forgot to tell the government he has money. For two years.”

“He what?” Steve looked at Gareth to explain.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to file my own taxes! I thought we had a guy!”

Steve looked between all of them. He looked at Gareth.

“You do have a guy. The label provides a guy. I think his name is Sam? Maybe Shane.” Steve shook his head. “Either way. You have a tax guy. He filed for all of you last year.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence.

“What do you mean? We all filed for ourselves last year. Except Gareth, apparently,” Jeff was frowning at the floor.

“Uh, well, you may have given double the money, then,” Steve laughed, though this wasn’t exactly funny.

“So let me get this straight: the label provided a guy to do our taxes without telling us. We all file our own taxes after this guy already did. No one caught it. Gareth’s the only one who hasn’t double paid into the fucking government?” Eddie asked, face red with shame or anger, it was hard to say which.

“Yeah, appears so.”

“Fuck you guys. Had me worried I was going to prison and I’m the only one who’s done shit right!” Gareth laughed. He reached for a slice of pizza and sat back in his chair, smug smile on his face. “Feels good to have my taxes paid.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Freak rolled his eyes. “So how do we get money back if we double filed?”

“Not sure we can,” Jeff sighed. “Probably isn’t worth figuring it out anyway. It’s not like we were rolling in for last year’s taxes.”

“But this year…” Eddie started.

They all looked at each other and nodded.

Yeah. This year would be different. They’d skyrocketed after the release of their first album and their first tour. Money was…pretty fucking great.

“So…pizza?” Steve asked.

They all nodded and started grabbing for their food.

“If you guys want, I’m sure Nancy can try to find a way to get money back. She’s good at that stuff,” Steve suggested.

“Nah, she’d call us idiots.”

“Well, if the shoe fits.”

“Hey!”