#buy liquidation stock

[brandedsurplus]

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[brandedgarmentswholesalers]

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[mirandahamilton]

ugh honestly i am so ready to simply renounce my friendships with all of my male coworkers. i am SO TIRED of being their MOTHER!!!!!!!!

[definitelyjunehomestuck]

my heart goes out to any artist whos main platform is twitter, but ngl i think musk bein forced to buy twitter is the best thing ever just cuz of how utterly FUCKED he is financially now

[brightdigigold2023]

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

The reason you can’t buy a car is the same reason that your health insurer let hackers dox you

On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

In 2017, Equifax suffered the worst data-breach in world history, leaking the deep, nonconsensual dossiers it had compiled on 148m Americans and 15m Britons, (and 19k Canadians) into the world, to form an immortal, undeletable reservoir of kompromat and premade identity-theft kits:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2017_Equifax_data_breach

Equifax knew the breach was coming. It wasn't just that their top execs liquidated their stock in Equifax before the announcement of the breach – it was also that they ignored years of increasingly urgent warnings from IT staff about the problems with their server security.

Things didn't improve after the breach. Indeed, the 2017 Equifax breach was the starting gun for a string of more breaches, because Equifax's servers didn't just have one fubared system – it was composed of pure, refined fubar. After one group of hackers breached the main Equifax system, other groups breached other Equifax systems, over and over, and over:

https://finance.yahoo.com/news/equifax-password-username-admin-lawsuit-201118316.html

Doesn't this remind you of Boeing? It reminds me of Boeing. The spectacular 737 Max failures in 2018 weren't the end of the scandal. They weren't even the scandal's start – they were the tipping point, the moment in which a long history of lethally defective planes "breached" from the world of aviation wonks and into the wider public consciousness:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_accidents_and_incidents_involving_the_Boeing_737

Just like with Equifax, the 737 Max disasters tipped Boeing into a string of increasingly grim catastrophes. Each fresh disaster landed with the grim inevitability of your general contractor texting you that he's just opened up your ceiling and discovered that all your joists had rotted out – and that he won't be able to deal with that until he deals with the termites he found last week, and that they'll have to wait until he gets to the cracks in the foundation slab from the week before, and that those will have to wait until he gets to the asbestos he just discovered in the walls.

Drip, drip, drip, as you realize that the most expensive thing you own – which is also the thing you had hoped to shelter for the rest of your life – isn't even a teardown, it's just a pure liability. Even if you razed the structure, you couldn't start over, because the soil is full of PCBs. It's not a toxic asset, because it's not an asset. It's just toxic.

Equifax isn't just a company: it's infrastructure. It started out as an engine for racial, political and sexual discrimination, paying snoops to collect gossip from nosy neighbors, which was assembled into vast warehouses full of binders that told bank officers which loan applicants should be denied for being queer, or leftists, or, you know, Black:

https://jacobin.com/2017/09/equifax-retail-credit-company-discrimination-loans

This witch-hunts-as-a-service morphed into an official part of the economy, the backbone of the credit industry, with a license to secretly destroy your life with haphazardly assembled "facts" about your life that you had the most minimal, grudging right to appeal (or even see). Turns out there are a lot of customers for this kind of service, and the capital markets showered Equifax with the cash needed to buy almost all of its rivals, in mergers that were waved through by a generation of Reaganomics-sedated antitrust regulators.

There's a direct line from that acquisition spree to the Equifax breach(es). First of all, companies like Equifax were early adopters of technology. They're a database company, so they were the crash-test dummies for ever generation of database. These bug-riddled, heavily patched systems were overlaid with subsequent layers of new tech, with new defects to be patched and then overlaid with the next generation.

These systems are intrinsically fragile, because things fall apart at the seams, and these systems are all seams. They are tech-debt personified. Now, every kind of enterprise will eventually reach this state if it keeps going long enough, but the early digitizers are the bow-wave of that coming infopocalypse, both because they got there first and because the bottom tiers of their systems are composed of layers of punchcards and COBOL, crumbling under the geological stresses of seventy years of subsequent technology.

The single best account of this phenomenon is the British Library's postmortem of their ransomware attack, which is also in the running for "best hard-eyed assessment of how fucked things are":

https://www.bl.uk/home/british-library-cyber-incident-review-8-march-2024.pdf

There's a reason libraries, cities, insurance companies, and other giant institutions keep getting breached: they started accumulating tech debt before anyone else, so they've got more asbestos in the walls, more sagging joists, more foundation cracks and more termites.

That was the starting point for Equifax – a company with a massive tech debt that it would struggle to pay down under the most ideal circumstances.

Then, Equifax deliberately made this situation infinitely worse through a series of mergers in which it bought dozens of other companies that all had their own version of this problem, and duct-taped their failing, fucked up IT systems to its own. The more seams an IT system has, the more brittle and insecure it is. Equifax deliberately added so many seams that you need to be able to visualized additional spatial dimensions to grasp them – they had fractal seams.

But wait, there's more! The reason to merge with your competitors is to create a monopoly position, and the value of a monopoly position is that it makes a company too big to fail, which makes it too big to jail, which makes it too big to care. Each Equifax acquisition took a piece off the game board, making it that much harder to replace Equifax if it fucked up. That, in turn, made it harder to punish Equifax if it fucked up. And that meant that Equifax didn't have to care if it fucked up.

Which is why the increasingly desperate pleas for more resources to shore up Equifax's crumbling IT and security infrastructure went unheeded. Top management could see that they were steaming directly into an iceberg, but they also knew that they had a guaranteed spot on the lifeboats, and that someone else would be responsible for fishing the dead passengers out of the sea. Why turn the wheel?

That's what happened to Boeing, too: the company acquired new layers of technical complexity by merging with rivals (principally McDonnell-Douglas), and then starved the departments that would have to deal with that complexity because it was being managed by execs whose driving passion was to run a company that was too big to care. Those execs then added more complexity by chasing lower costs by firing unionized, competent, senior staff and replacing them with untrained scabs in jurisdictions chosen for their lax labor and environmental enforcement regimes.

(The biggest difference was that Boeing once had a useful, high-quality product, whereas Equifax started off as an irredeemably terrible, if efficient, discrimination machine, and grew to become an equally terrible, but also ferociously incompetent, enterprise.)

This is the American story of the past four decades: accumulate tech debt, merge to monopoly, exponentially compound your tech debt by combining barely functional IT systems. Every corporate behemoth is locked in a race between the eventual discovery of its irreparable structural defects and its ability to become so enmeshed in our lives that we have to assume the costs of fixing those defects. It's a contest between "too rotten to stand" and "too big to care."

Remember last February, when we all discovered that there was a company called Change Healthcare, and that they were key to processing virtually every prescription filled in America? Remember how we discovered this? Change was hacked, went down, ransomed, and no one could fill a scrip in America for more than a week, until they paid the hackers $22m in Bitcoin?

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2024_Change_Healthcare_ransomware_attack

How did we end up with Change Healthcare as the linchpin of the entire American prescription system? Well, first Unitedhealthcare became the largest health insurer in America by buying all its competitors in a series of mergers that comatose antitrust regulators failed to block. Then it combined all those other companies' IT systems into a cosmic-scale dog's breakfast that barely ran. Then it bought Change and used its monopoly power to ensure that every Rx ran through Change's servers, which were part of that asbestos-filled, termite-infested, crack-foundationed, sag-joisted teardown. Then, it got hacked.

United's execs are the kind of execs on a relentless quest to be too big to care, and so they don't care. Which is why their they had to subsequently announce that they had suffered a breach that turned the complete medical histories of one third of Americans into immortal Darknet kompromat that is – even now – being combined with breach data from Equifax and force-fed to the slaves in Cambodia and Laos's pig-butchering factories:

https://www.cnn.com/2024/05/01/politics/data-stolen-healthcare-hack/index.html

Those slaves are beaten, tortured, and punitively raped in compounds to force them to drain the life's savings of everyone in Canada, Australia, Singapore, the UK and Europe. Remember that they are downstream of the forseeable, inevitable IT failures of companies that set out to be too big to care that this was going to happen.

Failures like Ticketmaster's, which flushed 500 million users' personal information into the identity-theft mills just last month. Ticketmaster, you'll recall, grew to its current scale through (you guessed it), a series of mergers en route to "too big to care" status, that resulted in its IT systems being combined with those of Ticketron, Live Nation, and dozens of others:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/05/31/business/ticketmaster-hack-data-breach.html

But enough about that. Let's go car-shopping!

Good luck with that. There's a company you've never heard. It's called CDK Global. They provide "dealer management software." They are a monopolist. They got that way after being bought by a private equity fund called Brookfield. You can't complete a car purchase without their systems, and their systems have been hacked. No one can buy a car:

https://www.cnn.com/2024/06/27/business/cdk-global-cyber-attack-update/index.html

Writing for his BIG newsletter, Matt Stoller tells the all-too-familiar story of how CDK Global filled the walls of the nation's auto-dealers with the IT equivalent of termites and asbestos, and lays the blame where it belongs: with a legal and economics establishment that wanted it this way:

https://www.thebignewsletter.com/p/a-supreme-court-justice-is-why-you

The CDK story follows the Equifax/Boeing/Change Healthcare/Ticketmaster pattern, but with an important difference. As CDK was amassing its monopoly power, one of its execs, Dan McCray, told a competitor, Authenticom founder Steve Cottrell that if he didn't sell to CDK that he would "fucking destroy" Authenticom by illegally colluding with the number two dealer management company Reynolds.

Rather than selling out, Cottrell blew the whistle, using Cottrell's own words to convince a district court that CDK had violated antitrust law. The court agreed, and ordered CDK and Reynolds – who controlled 90% of the market – to continue to allow Authenticom to participate in the DMS market.

Dealers cheered this on: CDK/Reynolds had been steadily hiking prices, while ingesting dealer data and using it to gouge the dealers on additional services, while denying dealers access to their own data. The services that Authenticom provided for $35/month cost $735/month from CDK/Reynolds (they justified this price hike by saying they needed the additional funds to cover the costs of increased information security!).

CDK/Reynolds appealed the judgment to the 7th Circuit, where a panel of economists weighed in. As Stoller writes, this panel included monopoly's most notorious (and well-compensated) cheerleader, Frank Easterbrook, and the "legendary" Democrat Diane Wood. They argued for CDK/Reynolds, demanding that the court release them from their obligations to share the market with Authenticom:

https://caselaw.findlaw.com/court/us-7th-circuit/1879150.html

The 7th Circuit bought the argument, overturning the lower court and paving the way for the CDK/Reynolds monopoly, which is how we ended up with one company's objectively shitty IT systems interwoven into the sale of every car, which meant that when Russian hackers looked at that crosseyed, it split wide open, allowing them to halt auto sales nationwide. What happens next is a near-certainty: CDK will pay a multimillion dollar ransom, and the hackers will reward them by breaching the personal details of everyone who's ever bought a car, and the slaves in Cambodian pig-butchering compounds will get a fresh supply of kompromat.

But on the plus side, the need to pay these huge ransoms is key to ensuring liquidity in the cryptocurrency markets, because ransoms are now the only nondiscretionary liability that can only be settled in crypto:

https://locusmag.com/2022/09/cory-doctorow-moneylike/

When the 7th Circuit set up every American car owner to be pig-butchered, they cited one of the most important cases in antitrust history: the 2004 unanimous Supreme Court decision in Verizon v Trinko:

https://www.oyez.org/cases/2003/02-682

Trinko was a case about whether antitrust law could force Verizon, a telcoms monopolist, to share its lines with competitors, something it had been ordered to do and then cheated on. The decision was written by Antonin Scalia, and without it, Big Tech would never have been able to form. Scalia and Trinko gave us the modern, too-big-to-care versions of Google, Meta, Apple, Microsoft and the other tech baronies.

In his Trinko opinion, Scalia said that "possessing monopoly power" and "charging monopoly prices" was "not unlawful" – rather, it was "an important element of the free-market system." Scalia – writing on behalf of a unanimous court! – said that fighting monopolists "may lessen the incentive for the monopolist…to invest in those economically beneficial facilities."

In other words, in order to prevent monopolists from being too big to care, we have to let them have monopolies. No wonder Trinko is the Zelig of shitty antitrust rulings, from the decision to dismiss the antitrust case against Facebook and Apple's defense in its own ongoing case:

https://www.ftc.gov/system/files/documents/cases/073_2021.06.28_mtd_order_memo.pdf

Trinko is the origin node of too big to care. It's the reason that our whole economy is now composed of "infrastructure" that is made of splitting seams, asbestos, termites and dry rot. It's the reason that the entire automotive sector became dependent on companies like Reynolds, whose billionaire owner intentionally and illegally destroyed evidence of his company's crimes, before going on to commit the largest tax fraud in American history:

https://www.wsj.com/articles/billionaire-robert-brockman-accused-of-biggest-tax-fraud-in-u-s-history-dies-at-81-11660226505

Trinko begs companies to become too big to care. It ensures that they will exponentially increase their IT debt while becoming structurally important to whole swathes of the US economy. It guarantees that they will underinvest in IT security. It is the soil in which pig butchering grew.

It's why you can't buy a car.

Now, I am fond of quoting Stein's Law at moments like this: "anything that can't go on forever will eventually stop." As Stoller writes, after two decades of unchallenged rule, Trinko is looking awfully shaky. It was substantially narrowed in 2023 by the 10th Circuit, which had been briefed by Biden's antitrust division:

https://law.justia.com/cases/federal/appellate-courts/ca10/22-1164/22-1164-2023-08-21.html

And the cases of 2024 have something going for them that Trinko lacked in 2004: evidence of what a fucking disaster Trinko is. The wrongness of Trinko is so increasingly undeniable that there's a chance it will be overturned.

But it won't go down easy. As Stoller writes, Trinko didn't emerge from a vacuum: the economic theories that underpinned it come from some of the heroes of orthodox economics, like Joseph Schumpeter, who is positively worshipped. Schumpeter was antitrust's OG hater, who wrote extensively that antitrust law didn't need to exist because any harmful monopoly would be overturned by an inevitable market process dictated by iron laws of economics.

Schumpeter wrote that monopolies could only be sustained by "alertness and energy" – that there would never be a monopoly so secure that its owner became too big to care. But he went further, insisting that the promise of attaining a monopoly was key to investment in great new things, because monopolists had the economic power that let them plan and execute great feats of innovation.

The idea that monopolies are benevolent dictators has pervaded our economic tale for decades. Even today, critics who deplore Facebook and Google do so on the basis that they do not wield their power wisely (say, to stamp out harassment or disinformation). When confronted with the possibility of breaking up these companies or replacing them with smaller platforms, those critics recoil, insisting that without Big Tech's scale, no one will ever have the power to accomplish their goals:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/18/urban-wildlife-interface/#combustible-walled-gardens

But they misunderstand the relationship between corporate power and corporate conduct. The reason corporations accumulate power is so that they can be insulated from the consequences of the harms they wreak upon the rest of us. They don't inflict those harms out of sadism: rather, they do so in order to externalize the costs of running a good system, reaping the profits of scale while we pay its costs.

The only reason to accumulate corporate power is to grow too big to care. Any corporation that amasses enough power that it need not care about us will not care about it. You can't fix Facebook by replacing Zuck with a good unelected social media czar with total power over billions of peoples' lives. We need to abolish Zuck, not fix Zuck.

Zuck is not exceptional: there were a million sociopaths whom investors would have funded to monopolistic dominance if he had balked. A monopoly like Facebook has a Zuck-shaped hole at the top of its org chart, and only someone Zuck-shaped will ever fit through that hole.

Our whole economy is now composed of companies with sociopath-shaped holes at the tops of their org chart. The reason these companies can only be run by sociopaths is the same reason that they have become infrastructure that is crumbling due to sociopathic neglect. The reckless disregard for the risk of combining companies is the source of the market power these companies accumulated, and the market power let them neglect their systems to the point of collapse.

This is the system that Schumpeter, and Easterbrook, and Wood, and Scalia – and the entire Supreme Court of 2004 – set out to make. The fact that you can't buy a car is a feature, not a bug. The pig-butcherers, wallowing in an ocean of breach data, are a feature, not a bug. The point of the system was what it did: create unimaginable wealth for a tiny cohort of the worst people on Earth without regard to the collapse this would provoke, or the plight of those of us trapped and suffocating in the rubble.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/28/dealer-management-software/#antonin-scalia-stole-your-car

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[animentality]

Elon Musk tries to pretend he wanted to buy Twitter when actually he just talked too much shit on Twitter, and his board was fucking pissed at him for fucking the stock market with his bullshit tweets.

He then gets caught in a fucking legal battle because Twitter is also pissed at his bullshit and plus, Twitter actually isn't that profitable in terms of the social media business.

He then gets forced to buy Twitter seriously, for over 3x the fucking market value, and nasty severance packages for the executive staff.

He gets to pretend he "fired" them when actually he's forced to pay them all 200 million plus certain profits for an extended time frame.

All because he's a trust fund brat who doesn't know how to conduct himself like a fucking business professional.

He then also fires the legal and safety departments AND the algorithm engineers and replaces them with his Tesla engineers.

I'm sure that'll go well.

Twitter's algorithm may suck donkey dick but with Elon firing 75% of the Twitter staff, well.

I'm sure they'll figure it out.

It's Tesla, right, they don't make mistakes 😤

Anyway, so I think Elon also fails to recognize that there is a very real chance that if he doesn't conduct business on Twitter similar to the standards of the previous Twitter policies that he "hates" then Twitter might be fucking banned in Europe.

Their hate speech laws are tighter than American laws.

I for one hope the entire world bans Twitter.

And it gets funnier guys.

Because there are already major advertising companies threatening to leave Twitter if Elon Musk does what he's threatening.

Which is to bring Trump back on.

See they weren't that happy when Trump incited that January 6th riot at the Capitol building.

Plus there are already people spamming the n word and neo Nazi garbage and racist anti semitic homophobic shit.

Capitol fucking One isn't gonna promote itself beside a fucking swastika.

This is kind of amazing to watch.

Ads are just about the only thing that make Twitter profitable.

So right now we just wait and see.

I think he's trying to bring dogecoin and Bitcoin and nft shit directly to Twitter, like use those to monetize it, but.

But I'm not sure how well that'll work in his favor.

We'll see but.

The situation is funny in a dark way.

Very succession levels of dick measuring and feather primping.

I wish Elon Musk a very merry bankruptcy though!

Hope liquidating assets and begging other companies for money satisfied his humiliation kink.

44 billion...hm.

It's like he's trying to become Kanye West.

[userunknowenha]

Loser gets it

Pairing: Sim Jake x Reader (I love this picture of him y’all)

Description: You shouldn’t have made a bet against Jake, less when you know how nasty he can be but in your defense you didn’t actually expect him to buy this for you to wear… some puppy ears, with the tiniest dress you have ever seen and the thing you expected the less a buttplug that has a tail attached to it.

Warnings: smut!, MDNI, Jake is a pervert here ngl, reader dress like a puppy but not really pet play, ass play, oral (male rec), unprotected sex (nah uh), master and sir kink lol, he makes reader crawl but nothing to much, spitting, begging, reader wear a collar, marking.

‘I got you what I want you to wear since you lost :p’

It’s the text that Jake sent you this afternoon, also telling you that he wants to meet up at his place once the two of you are free. A week ago the two of you were in your weekly; sometimes monthly depending on how free the two of you are; got together to do either everything or nothing but just hang out with each other.

Your relationship with him it’s… complicated to say the least, you guys have drunkenly make out, several times, you have walked in on him while he is masturbating and when he sees it’s just you, he continues, but you guys are just friends, friends that are with each other most of the time and friends that often have sexual tension going on but other than that you two are friends.

Today he got out of class earlier than you so that’s why you find yourself walking to his place alone, normally he would walk with you but he said something about needing to sign the package once it was delivered. Your mind wonders what kind of thing he ordered but knowing him it is something that he is going to like and you are going to be embarrassed to use. He didn’t give you more detail, just that it was something to wear.

Knocking on his door, it surprises you that he almost immediately opens it, “Hey, took you long enough”, rolling your eyes at his greeting you notice the big smile on his face though, “You seem excited about this, I’m getting scared now”.

He quickly hurried you to get inside while murmuring something between the lines ‘I am excited’ and ‘I hope you’re also excited’, he guides you to his bedroom and once inside he points to the bathroom “Uhm, it is inside, if you need help, I’m going to be right here”.

Oh you are so going to kill him, stepping inside his bathroom you notice a box that was already opened, upon inspection of what it’s inside you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “this barely covers anything…!”, you whispered to yourself while taking a look at your; what you can barely call; outfit. The dress is low cut in your chest so if you were to bend over all of your tits would be in display and it’s no better behind, the skirt barely covering your buttcheeks if you were to bend over both your behind and front would be all exposed.

Already embarrassed but you know there is still stuff in the box, you continue. Now putting the puppy ears on top of your hair, and for your legs he also chose some mid-thigh stockings in color pink, you won’t deny it you look really sexy right now but there is one last thing in this box you can’t find yourself capable of putting on.

It is a buttplug but it has a tail attached to it, complementing your pup ears, at least he was considerate enough to put a bottle of lube for you but still this is too much!! Getting rid of your panties you grab the bottle mentioned before and squirt the liquid inside onto your fingers, shuddering a bit at the cold feeling of the liquid around your rim you proceed to push a finger first letting out a small moan at the intrusion since you are not used to it. Going slow with it, in and out of it you then add another finger almost stumbling forward, with urgency your other hand grabs the counter of the sink to stabilize yourself.

Huffing at the feeling you stop before it starts to feel too intense, you retract your fingers and now grabbing the tail you squirt some more liquid on top of it, with your hands you smear it all over so that its insertion wouldn’t hurt as much. You give yourself a minute to recover and get used to the feeling prior to standing up straight and looking at your reflection in the mirror, turned to the side you can see the tail peeking out underneath the dress and your cheeks heat up at the image.

“Are you done? You have been in there for some time now” jumping a little bit at the sound of his voice you freeze, “Jake… this is too much”, you hear the handle of the door trying to open but it is stopped since you had lock it before, “Come on Y/N let me see you, what do you mean it’s too much?”, he tries again unlocking the door but fails to do so, “Give me some time! It’s embarrassing!”.

“Fuck, that means you already put all of it on? Come ooon, let me see you!” Jake is so excited to see you in the outfit that he picked up for you, he can almost feel himself salivating imagining how you look and getting frustrated when you don’t come out, one last time he tries to turn the door knob but you beat him to it by opening the door.

The sight in front of him has him already feeling hard in his trousers, you look so much better than any of his fantasies, “Fuck…”, it’s the only thing he can manage to let out, “You look so fucking good baby”, blushing you lift your head up to look at his face and he is looking at you like you are his prey, giving you that look like he would eat you in any moment.

“D-Do you like it?” You give him a little swirl to show it all off and you catch him letting out a growl when he sees the back, “I fucking love it Y/N, you have no idea…there’s just one last thing I got for you”, you see him walk over to his gaming set, he proceeds to grab something he had laying on top of his table. You try to follow him but once you walk just a bit you feel the buttplug making it almost impossible for you to move forward.

“You don’t have to walk puppy, I’m coming over to you”, you can’t believe how wet the pet name he called you got you, stopping your tracks he approaches you with his hands behind his back. As soon as he is in front of you he wraps whatever he has on his hands around your neck making a ‘click’ sound, “w-what?” “It’s a collar baby, it says Jake’s puppy”, you look at him with wide eyes while pressing your thighs together, how he is treating you right now should make you be ashamed but your body feels hot and each thing he does you feel arousal coming from your pussy.

“I was a bit scared that you were not going to like this, but look at you puppy I bet you’re dripping” with that being said he leans forward to capture your lips with his, the kiss being hot and intense, the way Jake kisses makes you always feel dizzy, your hands finding their way to grab his shirt in fists, on the other hand Jake’s hands go to your waist pulling you closer to him.

He separates your legs with one of his, gasping into the kiss when you feel your clit being press against his jean, the friction making you subconsciously buckle your hips forward, he groans and whispers against your lips “fuck puppy I can feel how wet you are”, you whine at his demeanor, “please, p-please fuck me master”.

He is on cloud nine once he hears you, smiling to you he pushes away and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, “Come puppy”, you take a step forward but he stops you by saying, “Pups don’t walk, they crawl baby, now be good and crawl to me”, even for your surprise you find yourself dropping down on your knees and then leaning forward to be on all fours, crawling of the way to where he was located.

You positioned yourself in between his legs on the floor, pressing your cheek against his left thigh and looking up at him expecting his next command, “Take off my pants pup”, you quickly help him out of his trousers and your mouth waters at the sight of his bulge, he is big, gulping you lean with your hands to take his boxers off but he catches them both, “take my boxers off with your teeth puppy”, it was a bit difficult for you but you manage to do exactly what he tells you to do.

“You are going to suck me off but you can’t use your hands okay?”, you nod your head rapidly and he does think you look like an excited puppy, he pats your head with his hand and smiles at you, “You are so good to me”, his dick is hard and ready to explode so he proceeds to tap himself of your mouth indicating that you should open and you do, you swirl your tongue on his tip, moaning at the taste then you carry on with taking him more deep in your mouth, enjoying how he reacts you hollow your cheeks and take more of him.

Maintaining eye contact with him, you reach your limit, your nose it’s touching his lower abdomen, “Mhm, such a slut for cock aren’t you, o-oh yessss, so good baby, your mouth so warm”, now you are bobbing your head up and down like sucking his cock with your tongue, all of your work on him makes him thrust his hips upwards making you gag and bring your hands up to his thighs, digging your nails onto them.

It seems that he like the pain as much as you, once he feels your manicured nails dig into him, he lets out a loud moan and how he sounds make you whine around his cock, working up and down his dick it’s making you feel so wet you bring one of your hands down to in between your legs and you start making circles on top of your clitoris, moaning into his cock.

“Fuckkk, you like sucking dick that much baby? That it makes you touch yourself? But you know better than that, stop touching your pussy or I’ll punish you”, as turned on you are by this you stop and bring your hand upward again to grip his thigh. What he does next is leaving you breathless, he puts both his hands around your head, grabbing you by your hair and thrusting with force into your mouth.

“I’m c-close baby yeah, just like that, fuck I-I’m coming”, with that last warning you feel him spill his seed inside your mouth, with tears threatening to fall down your eyes you moan at how he just used your mouth. Pulling out he pushes his thumb into your mouth making you open it, and he gathers spit on his mouth before spitting it into your mouth, “Swallow”.

Obeying him, you do, opening it once again to show him you did as he wanted to, he cups your cheek with one of his hands and smiles at you, “Such a good girl for me”, he forces you to stand up before sitting you down on his lap with each of your legs in one side of him, bringing your face closer to make out some more with you, tasting himself on your mouth but still loving it.

Pulling down the hem of your dress he starts playing around with your nipples in between his fingers, twisting and pinching them, the stimulation making you arch your back into his touch moaning into the kiss. He trails down kissing your chin and downwards to your neck leaving wet kisses and biting down, “You look so good with this collar on but I need to mark you or I’m going to go crazy”, unclipping it he throws it somewhere in his room without a care.

His hands now go to circle around your waist pressing you down on him, directly on top of his cock, both of you whine at the direct feeling and you feel the rush and need of grinding up against him, that feeling plus his mouth and lips all over your neck makes you go dumb.

“Fuckk, Jak- master please!” “Do you even know what you are begging for?”, he detaches himself from your neck and brings a hand to wrap around your hair, tugging it forcing you to look at him directly into his eyes, “Beg for it puppy”.

Tossing any thoughts of shame in your body you whine out, “master please, I need you inside me” “More pup” “Please! Please just fuck me! I need you”, humming in satisfaction he throws your body in the bed, laying on your back, he hovers on top of you in between your legs.

“Such a good girl, perfect for me, I’m going to make you mine”, with one hand holding your thigh, the other one is lining up his tip right in your hole. Liking how you react he proceeds to tease you by dragging his tip up and down all over your pussy lips, “W-Why so much teasing? Sir! Please!”, he loves your reaction, loving how much you need him so he decides that he is going to tease you some other time but right now he needs you as much or probably even more than you need him.

Letting out a moan when he finally pushes inside, loving how tight you feel and he knows you feel this way because of the buttplug that sits perfectly inside of you. He starts a pace slow at first but his thrusts were deep and hard, by every minute on how you feel and the noises that you let out are making him get needier, now going faster and harder bringing one hand to press up on the tail in between your cheeks, letting out a squeal in surprise while simultaneously clenching at the feeling, Jake lovesss how you feel.

After teasing your behind a bit more he moves his hand to your front now teasing and pinching your clitoris, “You get even wetter when I play with you puppy, f-fuck”, you give him a fucked up smile before launching yourself to his neck taking your turn to now mark him, licking, kissing and biting all over his neck. Upon your movements his hips stuttered but never stopped, he let you continue after all he would proudly show everyone your marks on him, marking him as yours.

He notices that you are panting even more, you have stopped your work on his neck and he knows by your body language that you definitely are close, “Ja-jake, can I cum…?”, already deep down in subspace he lets you get away with calling him by his name, after all he feels himself twitching at the sound of his own name, you sound so pretty, so submissive, he loves it.

“Of course baby, cum all over my cock”

With those words, your mouth opens in a ‘o’ shape, you release cries of his name and thank you’s, your orgasm hits you hard, arching into the bed, digging your nails into his biceps and you even feel your legs trembling with pleasure.

“All on fours puppy I want to cum all over your pretty ass”, with his assistance you turn yourself around and position your figure in all fours but once he re-enters you your arms give up, finding your body now face down and ass up, all presented for him.

He doesn’t stop one second even after you falling down, he loves the sight in front him, you, his pretty best friend that he loves, all spread out for him, with all the humiliating stuff he bought for both of you to enjoy, as much as he enjoys the fake tail going up and down with each thrust, he grabs it and slowly takes it out, growling at the sight of your rim all stretched out, opening and closing after the long time with the toy inside.

Gathering; once more; spit in his mouth, he throws it in your hole and pushes his thumb inside, losing it at the feeling of you tightening even more. “Fuck puppy, I-I’m closeee, shit”, you can’t believe that you feel the knot on your tummy one more time, reaching down to your clit, you draw circles on it, feeling the knot close to snapping you cry out, “Lets cum together master!”, with some final pushes inside of you both of you cum undone.

Trying to calm yourself down, you hiss when you feel Jake pull out, moving your body to lay down comfortably on his sheets, he reaches next to his bed he takes some wet wipes to clean you up, poorly but enough, helping you on your feet and helping you out of the outfit you both walk towards his bathroom to take a quick shower.

After going out and drying up he lends you some shirt and a pair of boxers for you to wear while he changes the sheets in his bed and puts on a clean pair.

Now lying next to each other you cuddle with him all in peace after everything you hear him cough with intention on you paying attention to him he says, “So…when are we doing this again?”

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter One

Chapter One: A Chance Meeting

Plot: Fresh off a sudden sacking, Y/n unexpectedly encounters salvation in the form of the kindness of two strangers. (Takes place between s2 and s3)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: language

A/N: Hihellowelcome. I had no intention to write anything for Ted Lasso, but this idea came to me as a migraine-induced dream and I figured I’d give it a go. I’ll leave it up for a day or so to see if anyone’s remotely interested and if so, I’ll do a full series.

I’m tagging it under the characters who will play central parts in the series, so no one come for me if I’m “tagging it wrong.” If anybody wants to be added to the (potential) taglist, just drop a comment.

Seriously, I don’t know what this is. I’m just following the Writing Fairy where she takes me. Enjoy!

————

There was no better place to be sad than at a bar.

Y/n swirled her second glass of white wine, watching the liquid spin and bubble slightly. She was in that comfortable space of numbness where the alcohol was mixing with her sorrow and diluting it enough that she didn’t know one from the other. Though she suspected that she felt she could have three more glasses and it still wouldn’t fully take away the pain.

This was the third job - the third job - she’d been fired from in the last two years. Where one might start to question if they were the problem, Y/n didn’t have to venture there. Either the companies had faced budget cuts and her position had been deemed unnecessary or they’d gone under. This time it was the latter. She hadn’t felt particularly passionate about the work, but that had never bothered her. Work wasn’t supposed to do anything more than keep the lights on and the fridge stocked.

And yet, at 5:02, as she packed up her bag and readied herself to head home, her boss had called her into his office and told her that her position was being eliminated. The world that had seemingly just settled back down was spinning once again.

Y/n sighed, pressing the rim of her glass to her forehead. She’d been walking London in a haze since 5:03 until she found her way into some posh restaurant. She’d managed to order her drink and not much else, too wrapped up in shame and confusion. Why was seemingly nothing working out? Why did she keep getting placed in these inevitably temporary positions? Was a business degree some cruel joke the universe had led her to and the punchline was repeatedly playing out?

Throwing back the last of the white, she figured it was worth a go to see if her answers lay at the bottom of another glass.

“Can I get one more?” Y/n asked the bartender, shaking the stemware a little to signal them.

A few feet and a world away, sat at a table were two blonde women, engrossed in their own conversation. During one of their natural pauses, both their eyes caught on the hunched figure sitting alone at the bar.

“That’s a picture worth a thousand words,” Rebecca mused.

“Right?” Keeley replied, “She’s been here since before you got here. Hasn’t moved.”

Rebecca hummed in agreement, there was some part of the woman’s sadness that was palpable. Her arms were crossed over the bar as if the shield herself. She was in no rush to finish her drink indicating that she had nowhere to be. This was shame and heartbreak and all other emotions that, while men were entirely capable of feeling, typically landed only on the heads of women.

Rebecca and Keeley turned to one another at the same time with the same idea.

Keeley slid out of the booth, the more extroverted of the two, and carried her drink with her to the bar. She approached the woman carefully, coming into her peripheral vision slowly as not to startle her. Though Keeley suspected the restaurant could spontaneously burst into flames and the girl would have barely moved an inch.

“Hi,” Keeley said softly, her voice’s cheery pitch raising slightly, “Can I buy your next glass?”

Y/n turned her head to the petite blonde woman smiling at her. It had easily been an hour since she’d had to say anything to anyone other than the bartender. She had to try and remember how to speak.

“Oh,” she started, slightly confused, “Um…I, uh-“

Keeley quickly held up a hand, “Oh, I’m not, like, hitting on you or trying to recruit you for a cult. Me and my friend, Rebecca,” she pointed back towards her and Rebecca’s table, “Saw that you’d been here a while and you looked sad and we just wanted to see if we could lift your spirits is all.”

Y/n looked over her shoulder towards where the woman was pointing, her finger aimed towards a taller and older blonde who gave a polite wave.

“Oh,” Y/n said again, unable to tell if the depression or the wine was making her feel so tired, “That’s very kind of you.”

Keeley raised an expectant eyebrow, “So can we?”

Y/n gestured to her glass that had yet to be refilled, “I suppose so.”

With ease, Keeley slid onto the barstool beside Y/n. When the bartender came around with the bottle, she patted the counter. “This round’s on our bill,” she informed the employee, pointing out their booth.

“Thank you,” Y/n said in as warm a tone as she could manage.

“We’ve gotta look out for each other, yeah?” Keeley replied with a smile, “Can I ask why you’re drinking alone?”

The whole point of not calling any of her friends or now former co-workers was to not have to talk about being let go. And yet there was something about the woman that Y/n trusted, that she felt drawn to even. Like she could tell her all her secrets and she wouldn’t bat an eye, but rather make her feel better about them.

“It wasn’t a guy, was it?” Keeley asked, “‘Cause if it was, you need something way more expensive that’ll get you drunk way faster.”

Y/n unexpectedly chuckled, “No, I got sacked today.”

“Oh, shit,” Keeley adjusted her tone to match the disappointment, “I’m sorry.”

“I wish I could say it was my fault,” Y/n continued, the wine stripping away a layer of self-consciousness, “Then there’d be a good reason at least, something I can fix. But this,” she tapped her pointer finger against the counter, “Is the third job in two years I’ve been let go from.”

Keeley’s eyebrows furrowed in shock, “Who the fuck are you working for?”

Another laugh escaped Y/n’s chest, “No one extraordinary,” she caught herself, “No one at all, at the moment. It’s not even exciting or anything, just boring business shit. They all go under or they all just implode,” Y/n lowered her voice, “And, for some God only knows reason, I’m always caught in the crossfire.”

“Hang on,” Keeley grabbed her drink and hopped off the stool, “You’re going to come and join us.”

“What?” Y/n looked to the woman, “No, I’m not interrupting your night with my bad luck. At this point, it might be contagious.”

“Absolutely not,” Keeley pushed back, wrapping her hand around Y/n’s wrist and practically pulling her off her stool, “You’re going to come and drink with us and you can bitch and moan as much as you’d like.”

The absurdity of it was tripping Y/n up and also drawing her further in. Strangers were never this kind and yet, the woman and her friend were both gesturing her towards their table and into their evening.

Relenting, Y/n grabbed her purse, her fresh white wine and followed the small blonde back to the booth.

“Success,” the older woman cheered as Keeley and Y/n arrived, “Rebecca.”

“Oh shit, yeah, I bought you a drink and didn’t even tell you my name,” Keeley laughed, sliding into the booth seat, “I’m Keeley.”

“Rebecca, Keeley,” Y/n repeated the names as she sat down, trying to put a polite amount of space between them, “I’m Y/n.”

“Y/n here’s been sacked today,” Keeley hit the highlights before Rebecca got the chance to ask, “Third time in two years.”

Rebecca’s brows furrowed in shock, “Bloody hell. What does a person do to get fired three times in two years?”

Though it was phrased accusingly, Y/n could tell there was no actual malice behind it. “Hitch your wagon to the wrong fucking horse.”

Keeley and Rebecca stared back in silence.

“Sorry,” Y/n apologized, remembering what continent she was on, “American expression.”

“That was my next question,” Rebecca replied, picking up her glass of merlot.

“I went to school here on scholarship,” Y/n explained the cultural difference, “After I graduated, I was so settled that I didn’t feel like leaving. Though I’m starting to question if that was the right choice…”

“I suppose you would,” Keeley agreed, “What is it that you do? What’d you get your degree in?”

Y/n took a sip of her chard before answering, “Business with a minor in public relations. I’m the person people pay to handle all the fine print shit they don’t want to deal with, but sometimes I’ve handled press for my companies.”

Y/n was unsure why Rebecca was nudging Keeley with her elbow, but there was clear meaning to it.

“You do PR?” Keeley asked, leaning on the table with her elbows.

“I can, yeah,” Y/n answered, feeling like what she said was under a spotlight, “I’ve been in more of a managerial capacity as of late, but yeah.”

Rebecca smiled into her own glass as she drank, as if all the magical pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t meant to solve were suddenly coming together.

“Well, shit,” Keeley exclaimed, “I think the universe brought us together tonight.”

Y/n squinted a little, “I’m sorry?”

Keeley excitedly scooted closer to the table, “I’ve just started my own PR firm. You should come and work for me.”

Now she was entirely convinced she was more buzzed than she thought. “What?” Y/n asked.

“It’s just a small start-up,” Keeley explained further, “We’re not that big yet, but it’s good work. We’ve already got some pretty big clients.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/n set down her wine, fully invested now in the conversation, “You just met me and you’re offering me a job?”

Keeley shrugged as if she was simply offering to buy lunch, “Yeah, why not? You seem lovely and you’re in need of work and it cannot be a coincidence that we met.”

Suddenly, it all clicked in Y/n’s mind.

“Holy fuck,” she half cried, half whispered, “You’re Keeley Jones, aren’t you? I saw you in Vanity Fair!”

Keeley’s admission was her toothy grin.

“And,” Y/n’s raised finger drifted to Rebecca, who seemed to already guess what was coming, “Shit, you own th-th-the football club!”

“AFC Richmond,” Rebecca filled in the missing title with a smile.

“Holy shit,” Y/n whispered, letting her back hit the booth. The night was taking an entirely different turn than she’d expected.

“My firm exclusively handles PR for Richmond,” Keeley explained, “Are you a football fan?”

Still in shock, Y/n managed to answer. “I mean, sort of? I don’t root for anyone, really. I dated an Arsenal fan for a while, but I don’t really watch it all that much, to be honest.”

“Oh, well,” Rebecca adjusted herself in her seat, “We’re going to have to change that.”

“But-“ Y/n brought herself back to the original topic, “How can you offer me a job? You don’t know me. I could be a terrible employee for all you know.”

“You said that the firings weren’t your fault,” Keeley stated.

Y/n shrugged, “How do you know I’m not lying?”

“Oh, please,” Rebecca mumbled over a bite of her appetizer, “You’re far too smart to be fired for a valid reason. I’ve known you ten seconds and I can already tell that.”

Y/n chuckled, this was the most she’d laughed in a long time and it was with strangers that were feeling less and less like strangers.

“Look,” Keeley spoke up, laying her hands out on the table, “You don’t have to say yes. You can forget this night ever happened…but I really don’t think you should.”

Y/n’s eyes darted back and forth between Keeley and Rebecca, weighing her options and the insanity of the proposition. These were women higher up in business than she’d ever aspired to. These were women who knew exactly what they wanted and what they were doing, and they were reaching down to offer her a helping hand.

All her life, Y/n had been adrift. Floating on a little raft that somehow managed to weather every storm. Nothing had yet to find her that felt like magic, nor had she ever sought it out. Attending school in England had been the most shocking decision she’d ever made, and thousands of people chose the same path every day. She had never taken a step fully into the unknown, and sitting across the table from Keeley Jones and Rebecca Welton was the first time she’d ever considered it.

It was that or the unemployment office.

“Y’know,” Y/n sighed and smirked, “If we were men, you’d be making me this offer over the urinals.”

The three women burst into snorts and laughter.

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[amtalchemy]

5H/5L - What type of investor are you?

5H/5L Sun / Leo - Creative investor. Speculative ventures in creative real estate investing, art, acting, music, entrepreneurship. Moderate gains.

5H/5L Moon / Cancer - Emotionally attached. Changeable. Depends on mood. Short-term gains and fluctuations.

5H/5L Mercury / Gemini - Smart investor. Jack of all trades. Short-term but calculative gains. Speculative ventures in freelance marketing. Does well in poker.

5H/5L Mercury / Virgo - Intelligent, analytical, calculative investor. Conservative investor. Adapts well to unpredictability and changes. Picks stocks wisely to invest in. Does well in poker. Steady, exponential gains.

5H/5L Venus / Taurus - Conservative investor. In for the long-term gains and wealth. Speculative ventures in luxury, beauty, financial services industry.

5H/5L Venus / Libra - Conservative investor with fluctuating gains. Speculative ventures in wholesaling real estate, business, trade, luxury, beauty.

5H/5L Mars / Aries - Risk-based, impulsive investor. Fast but fluctuating gains. Wealth via day-trading and speculative ventures involving fast, liquid cash and entrepreneurship.

5H/5L Ketu / Scorpio - Calculative, risk-based investor. Handles and adapts well to unpredictability and changes. Courageous in speculative ventures with specialties in financial services industry, stocks, and real estate. Fast, steady gains.

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5H/5L Saturn / Capricorn - Conservative, pragmatic, frugal investor. Long-term wealth in speculative ventures. Slow gains.

5H/5L Rahu / Aquarius - Long-range, progressive investor. Thinks big picture and systematically. Speculative ventures in tech, running big companies, cryptocurrency, social media. Fast and exponential gains.

5H Uranus - Risk-based, unpredictable investor. Speculative ventures in cryptocurrency, technological innovation, and day-trading. Sporadic gains.

5H Pluto - Long-term, power-based investor. In it take over control and gain power. Speculative ventures in financial services and long-term stocks. Powerful gains.

BUY A READING

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

it's very bad no good cupcake baking time for the hotel crew (save them) (charlie did you think this throu-) (NO)

Charlie: “I have! The most brilliant plan for a group bonding activity!”

Angel Dust: “Oooh~ Bondin’ or bond-”

Vaggie: “You live here for free.”

Angel Dust: “Buy my silence, Vaggity Fair, cause’ it sure ain’t free.”

Vaggie: (groans) (slips him a twenty) “Go on babe, what’s the mission statement?”

Charlie: “We should all bake CUPCAKES together!!”

Hotel Crew: "......"

Husk: “…Why.”

Charlie: “Beeeecaaaause it’d be so SWEET!”

Vaggie: “And you also live here for free.”

Husk: “Not of my own free will I don’t.”

Charlie: “Aw c’mon Husk, please? Baking is probably KINDA like drink mixing, right?”

Husk: “It’s not.”

Vaggie: (SIGHS) (slips him a twenty)

Husk: “I’ve got cooking sherry around here somewhere, I think.”

Alastor: “How thrilling! Extreme heat sources, flammable liquids, and so many little bottles and vials that couldn’t possibly get mix up with anything in the pest control cabinet!”

Niffty: “Hee hee hee…. Rat poison~”

Vaggie: “Twenty bucks and you LOCK that cabinet, okay?”

Niffty: “Thirty and a new knife set!”

Vaggie: (has given up) “Fine.”

Niffty: “OKAY!”

Charlie: “We need to go shopping anyway. We’ll need flour and sugar and uhhhh flavory things of some kind probably and um, those little paper thingies- the cup cake… skirts?”

Alastor: “Glad to see how prepared our intrepid leader is for this marvelous expedition!”

Charlie: “Cup cake… dollies…?”

Vaggie: “I’ll handle it. You remember how to pre-heat the oven?”

Charlie: “NOT with actual fire!”

Alastor: “Aww.”

Angel Dust: (handing back the twenty) “I want a new pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs. Mine broke~”

Vaggie: “I don’t want to know.”

Husk: (handing his twenty back too) “Beer.”

Vaggie: “Beer? You run the hotel BAR.”

Husk: “What, you think I nip stuff under the table at work?”

Alastor: “Oh there isn’t much thought needed when it comes to you, I’m afraid.”

Husk: “You think I LIKE that I do that? That’s the stupid hotel’s shit, can’t relax sneaking shots that aren’t mine, racking up a tab like that. This beer is gonna be only for me.”

Charlie: “Husk…”

Vaggie: “Great whatever, guilt free beer for the alcoholic.”

Alastor: “How touching. And I require-”

Vaggie: “What YOU need is a-”

Charlie: “Happy place!”

Vaggie: “-which I’m not picking up for you. I’ll get more cleaning supplies too while I’m at it.”

Charlie: “More? Vaggie, have some faith! We’re all adults here! It’s not gonna be THAT messy. We just need to measure things, maybe chop some stuff up first-”

Niffty: “KNIVES.”

Charlie: “-put all in a- blender-? A blender would work for mixing, right? Then pour the batter in the things and into the oven! Which I WILL remember to preheat this time. Without fire.”

Vaggie: “Good point.”

Charlie: “See!”

Vaggie: “We should stock up on first aid stuff too.”

Charlie: (pouting) “We’ll talk about it on the way.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, thanks for wanting to help carry groceries, but I really think we need to divide and conquer here.”

Charlie: “Huh?”

Vaggie: “Husk is already halfway to the wine cellar.”

Charlie: “He wh- Husk wait! You can’t help make friendship cupcakes if you’re blackout drunk!”

Angel Dust: “Toots that’s the whole idea.”

Vaggie: “Fifty bucks if he’s still conscious when I get back. I’ll need him in the kitchen later if we’re gonna get through this alive.”

Angel Dust: “Spend it on getting’ him a really NICE beer and you’ve gotta deal.”

Vaggie: (eye twitch) “Why is all my money turning into drugs and sex toys?”

Niffty: “And KNIVES!”

Vaggie: “The one silver lining…”

Alastor: “You know, if you won’t extend simple shopping list courtesies to me, then I suppose I shall have to go shopping myself as well.”

Vaggie: “Keep your shopping on the other side of town from me or I’m coming home with a flat screen tv.”

Alastor: (annoyed channel switch sound) “….Noted!”

– LATER –

Hotel Crew: “………….”

Oven: (DING)

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “….cupcakes are done.”

Charlie: “Oh yay. Whoo. Hoo.”

Hotel Crew: “…….”

Vaggie: “If no one takes them out they’re gonna burn.”

Angel Dust: “Let ‘em.”

Husk: “Little fuckers deserve to fry.”

Charlie: (exhausted) “No one deserves to burn for all eternity.”

Niffty: “Yeah! I wanna RIP THEM APART and STAB THE CRUMBS.”

Alastor: “Well that’s two votes for burning and two for rescuing, to a certain extent. I myself would like to try out these DARLING cupcake toppers that I found while out doing my shopping completely alone.”

Vaggie: “Oh my girlfriend’s dad shut up. You won’t die just because no one was listening to you for ten minutes.”

Alastor: “In any case, that makes three for rescue and two for burn, with you as the undecided vote, Vaggie. Choose wisely~!”

Vaggie: (sighing) “Someone hand me the oven mitts.”

Husk: “They’re in the fucking blender.”

Angel Dust: “What’s left of ‘em.”

Vaggie: “Fine. Someone move the pile of dirty dishes off Charlie so SHE can be our oven mitts.”

Charlie: “It’s so peaceful under here…”

Vaggie: “The friendship cupcakes are dying, babe.”

Charlie: “UggghHHHHHH ‘kay. Coming.”

Angel Dust “That’s what she sa-”

Vaggie: “KNIVES.”

Angel Dust “-cough cough cough! I didn’t say nothin’, I got a piece of walnut shell stuck in my throat!”

Alastor: “Usual night for you then, hmm?”

Husk: “Who the fuck put in walnuts?”

Vaggie: “Who cares. If they shelled them then it’s at least better than the coconut thing.”

Charlie: “Did we add anything that wasn’t nut related?”

Vaggie: “Uhhh.”

Angel Dust “Nope!”

Husk: “Is that the only thing you were keeping track of.”

Angel Dust “Hey I know my strengths and I’m stickn’ to ‘em!”

Charlie: “Speaking of strength and sticking… um…”

Hotel Crew: “……….”

Charlie: “They’re bubbling.”

Vaggie: “Yeah.”

Charlie: “Or, breathing?”

Vaggie: “Yeah…”

Charlie: “Is that normal? It feels kinda… not normal.”

Vaggie: “It’s. Impressive.”

Niftty: “They’re ALIVE!” (knife) “For now.”

Charlie: “Well I guess we shouldn’t REALLY judge them until we’ve actually seen what they taste like-”

Angel Dust “Not it!”

Husk: “Fuck no.”

Alastor: “I’m terribly afraid that I am on a diet.”

Vaggie: “You eat rotting deer carcasses.”

Alastor: “And THEY aren’t still moving when I chow in, ha ha!”

Charlie: “Okay well, I guess I’ll just…”

Vaggie: “Wait. You’re probably immune to half the stuff that’d kill us.”

Charlie: “Right, so I should-”

Vaggie: “You’re not a good example of what happens when a non-demon princess person eats these, sweetie. If wanna test for uh, quality control, it shouldn’t be with you.”

Hotel Crew: “…..”

Vaggie: “….hand me a cupcake.”

Husk: (edges out of the splash zone)

Charlie: “You don’t have to do this.”

Angel Dust: “But you totally should! After I get my phone out though, hold on a sec-”

Vaggie: “I’m standing right in front of Radio Head over here so don’t even THINK about recording this.”

Alastor: “Aww my dear little angel-”

Charlie: “Alastor.” (calm smile) (horns out) “Her name is Vaggie.”

Alastor: “-Vaggie, yes, I would almost be willing to make an exception to my own morals for you.” (grins at angel dust) “Almost.”

Angel Dust: (lowering his phone) “I was jus’ takin’ a selfie. You know. Since I’m covered in sticky white shit anyway.”

Husk: “This fucking sucks.” (shakes his paws)

Vaggie: “No. THIS does.”

Vaggie: (bites cupcake)

Hotel Crew: “……………..”

Vaggie: “….hm.”

Hotel Crew: (STEPS BACK)

Vaggie: “It’s… well it’s kinda…”

Charlie: (cringing) “Break up worthy??”

Niffty: “PAINFUL?”

Vaggie: “It’s.. Fruity..?”

Hotel Crew: (stares at still moving cupcakes)

Angel Dust: “No. Fuckin’. Way.”

Husk: “Since the fuck WHEN did they have fruit in them?”

Angel Dust: “They didn’t! I swear I checked!”

Charlie: “Are they, um, edible?”

Vaggie: “Well I wouldn’t sign them up for a baking competition but I’m not dying either, so.”

Charlie: (excited) “So we did it? We all made actual cupcakes together?”

Vaggie: (smiling) “We did it. Mission cupcake completed.”

Charlie: “HAHA YUS!” (fist pump) “FRIENDSHIP POWERRRRRRR!!!!”

Alastor: “Now now now, no cupcake is fully complete without a lovely floral topper!”

Angel Dust: “Ain’t THAT the truth~”

Alastor: “Which I bought. Alone. Without any second opinion to rely on.”

Vaggie: (rolls eye)

Charlie: “And they’re so cute! Thank you Alastor- you picked wonderfully. Everyone, get decorating!”

Niffty: (drooping) “No stabbing?”

Vaggie: “You can poke ‘em each with a knife to check that they’re done.”

Niffty: “HEHEHEH.”

Vaggie: “Poke them with the knife ONCE Niffty- hey- NO- don’t leave it inside-”

Angel Dust: “That’s what-”

Husk: “Will be on your gravestone if she fucking hears you.”

Charlie: “Awww~ Now they’re adorable AND delicious!”

Husk: “Don’t.”

Angel Dust: “I didn’t say nothin’!”

Vaggie: “I actually kinda wish you’d go back to sex jokes instead of whatever you’re doing to that cupcake”

Angel Dust: “There’s more than one kind of oral performance in the world~”

Vaggie: “Say that and then look at what Niffty’s doing to her cupcake.”

Husk: “Unholy fucking shit!!”

Niffty: (GLEEFUL CACKLING)

Charlie: “Okay well, we clearly each have our own… unique ways of enjoying these cupcakes. Some more uh, graphic and concerning than others-”

Angel Dust: “Why the fuck are the insides RED like that?! Who put in red dye???”

Charlie: “-but the point is we all came together to make these sweets! Which. Taste like strawberries?”

Vaggie: “I didn’t buy strawberries.”

Charlie: “A-at least it and the redness go with the rose themed toppers!”

Angel Dust: “Yeah, I mean, is it weird that out of this whole maybe-living cupcake thing, the professional spun sugar parts are the ones with the funkiest taste to ‘em?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “Alastor. Where the fuck did you buy the rose themed cupcake toppers.”

Alastor: “Hmm? Does my private, SOLITARY shopping FINALLY interest you?”

Vaggie: “Where you literally on the other side of Pentagram City from me.”

Alastor: “I do believe that is what you requested, and I, being a proper gentleman even to someone who might be considered a less than proper lady, was only too happy to oblige!”

Charlie: “Vaggie are you okay? You’re looking kinda pale.”

Vaggie: “I’m.”

Vaggie: “Alastor did you get these rose themed toppers-"

Vaggie: "-in Cannibal Town?”

Angel Dust: “WHAT THE FUCK!?”

Alastor: “I did.”

Angel Dust: “FUCK!!!”

Husk: (hairball noise)

Charlie: “Oh no.”

Alastor: “Dear Rosie gave me quite the discount. Wasn’t that sweet of her?”

Charlie: “Oh. Nooooooooo-”

Alastor: “I think it utterly darling of her~”

Niffty: “Alastor, hey hey!”

Alastor: “Yes, murder of my eye?”

Niffty: “I stabbed my cupcake topper heheheh WHO did I just stab????”

Charlie: “NOOOOOO-”

Alastor: “I believe it was an unsatisfactory husband by the name of Bill.”

Niffty: (grinning) “A BAD boy?”

Alastor: “Not bad enough to escape Rosie’s Emporium intact but yes, in a manner of speaking.”

Niffty: “Oooh.”

Niffty: (snatches up another cupcake and hugs it) “For my collection.”

Charlie: “GAAAHM NOT HEARING THIS! I DIDN’T HEAR IT!”

Angel Dust: “GREAT CAN YA MAKE IT SO’S I DIDN’T EAT ANY OF IT EITHER!??!”

Alastor: “Not to your tastes, Angel Dust? And here I though you enjoyed have strange men in your mouth.”

Charlie: “DO WE KNOW HIS ADDRESS SO I CAN SEND AN APOLOGY LETTER???”

Alastor: “I suppose his business card might still be in the hand Rose tore off him-”

Charlie: “AAAAAGH!”

Vaggie: “Hostia. You really can’t not be the center of attention for five minutes can you.”

Alastor: “I can, truly I can and very happily! It seems however that YOU cannot withstand the consequences of your own, short-sighted actions.”

Charlie: “Um guys-”

Vaggie: “Oh yeah? You’re not the only monster here, dumbass.”

Charlie: “We’re getting a little off topic-”

Alastor: "But as I am the only one not mired in glorious self-pity, certainly I am the most impressive specimen here.”

Charlie: “Okay this is going a bit-”

Vaggie: “Impressive HA! Fuck your empty grin and your stupid suits. You’re not even the one with the highest body count.”

Angel Dust: “Are we talkin’ sex stuff orrr-?”

Vaggie: (takes topper off her cupcake and pops it in her mouth)

Hotel Crew: “………”

Vaggie: “What?”

Charlie: “Vaggie, um. Person.” (points) “Person food.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, you know how murder crazy exorcist are. You really never thought we didn’t lick a little blood off our weapons now and then, to feel extra badass about slaughtering people sometimes?”

Charlie: (dazed) “I’m thinking about it now.” (covers cheeks)

Niffty: “BLOOD!”

Angel Dust: “Oh ew. Oh you're getting off on that- Oh that’s just-”

Charlie: “Part of her past, a thing EVERYONE has.”

Angel Dust: “BLEH.”

Husk: “Also step one to seeing her shitfaced.”

Charlie: “Ha haaa…” (claps hands) “Okay everyone- that’s a wrap on today’s bonding activities! I uh, I think we can save the clean up until we’ve all recovered from the actual cupcakes a bit, right Vaggie?”

Vaggie: (shrug) “Whatever.”

Husk: “About damn time.” (sighs) (walks out) “I’ll get the fucking vodka.”

Niffty: "HEE HEE." (carrying cupcake over her head) "TO THE COLLECTION!"

Angel Dust: “Hold up baby! I wanna get shitfaced too after this!”

Charlie: “Well I think it’s all very interesting! Angel stuff is interesting, isn’t it Alastor?”

Alastor: “Yes. Quite.”

Vaggie: “Uh-huh.” (slumps and drops cupcake) “Bill tastes boring as hell, by the way, maybe let Rosie know before she sells anymore of these.”

Charlie: “Oh? Maybe THAT’S why she gave such a steep discount?”

Alastor: “Perhaps.”

Charlie: “Awww cheer up Alastor. You can bring her some of our cupcakes as a thank you, now that we uh, we’ve um, had our fill of them already.”

Alastor: “Hmph.”

Vaggie: “Think I’ll head up now.”

Alastor: “While grabbing a drink along way, hmm?”

Vaggie: “Yeah. Why not.”

Charlie: “Vaggie-” (catches her hand) (squeezes) “-grab one for me, too? I’ll be right behind you.”

Vaggie: “…wine from the cellar then, huh?”

Charlie: “I’m having whatever you’re having.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, you hate the shit I drink.” (small smile) “I’ll get us something from the cellar. Meet you up there.”

Charlie: “In a heartbeat.”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “Alastor.”

Alastor: “Oh don’t scold me for her baggage, dear, I don’t make her carry it.”

Charlie: “I’m not scolding. I just- I get that you have this whole-” (air quotes) “-annoying big brother who hates being ignored thing going on with Vaggie, and while it IS kinda sweet-”

Alastor: (microphone feedback) “Excuse me?”

Charlie: “Could you turn it down a tiny bit when it comes the exorcist stuff?”

Alastor: “I do not-”

Charlie: “I know I know you don’t mean to make her all droopy like this, it’s boring for you, totally a killjoy-”

Alastor: “There is NOTHING enjoyable about that woman!”

Charlie: “-So maaaaaaybe back off a little when things get too serious?”

Alastor: “NO!”

Charlie: “Think about it okay?” (pats his shoulder) “Anyway, thanks for sticking around for the friendship cupcakes, see you at the next hotel bonding session, Dadastor!”

Alastor: “At the next-”

Alastor: “………”

Alastor: (hissing) “DADastor!?”

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 004 ] rotten lemons.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. blood drinking. word count. 1.7k

　　　　　　　　chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v

Seonghwa, Yunho and Wooyoung returned to the house at around four in the morning, each carrying two crates. As soon as they stepped through the door, they were greeted by Hongjoong as he made his way down the stairs, blue tufts of hair bouncing on his head.

“How’d it go?” He asked over his shoulder as they followed him into the kitchen and dropped her crates on the countertop.

Seonghwa shrugged and opened the first crate as Wooyoung and Yunho moved to the living room. “The usual. The prices went up though, 300 thousand per five bags.”

With an understanding nod, Hongjoong took a seat on one of the island stools. He reached for a different crate and pulled it towards him, looking through it before pulling out a translucent white bag, a thick red liquid swishing around inside. After taking a look at the label, he snapped his fingers. A thin wine glass appeared on the counter and it didn’t take him too long to open the bag and pour its contents in the cup.

“Did you get some O neg for San? He said he’s running out,” he asked after taking a refreshing sip.

“Yeah, probably enough to keep him satisfied for a few months.”

While they were quite open to drinking any type of blood, they had preferences. Some of them preferred sweeter tastes (usually O or B-type blood as they taste somewhat like the sweetness you’d get from honey) and others preferred more sour tastes (such as A-type blood, a taste that resembled the slight sourness you’d get from a cherry). However, with San, he’d always been in a bit of a tricky situation…

O-type blood, specifically of the negative sort, is considered one of the rarer types of blood. The demand for it can get pretty high, which in turn also makes prices hike up quite a bit. Typically blood vendors wouldn’t have a lot of O-negative stocked which can sometimes be a bit concerning. Especially because that’s the only blood type that San’s body can process.

But, fortunately, they didn’t have to worry about that too much since their go-to vendor always had some of that prestigious type.

Around the country, there were different vendors for blood bags—blood-banks. Unfortunately, the closest one to their house was a 2-hour drive, so it was inconvenient to constantly go and come back with the bare minimum amount they would need for a week. Usually, the bags get stocked and sold to vampires and after a month, anything that wasn’t sold would be donated to local hospitals on behalf of a ‘private blood donation organisation.’

Of course, many vampires preferred to get blood directly from the source (A.K.A. suck it out of people’s necks themselves), since it had a sweeter, fresher taste. But, alas, this was also too inconvenient for the boys living in this lavish mansion. They’d have to consider too many things before sucking the blood directly from a human, so they opted for just buying it in bags.

“That’s more than enough I think.” Hongjoong swirled the blood in the glass one more time before downing the rest of it and wiping the excess on his chin with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

Once Seonghwa finished moving all the blood bags to the fridge, the two men moved to the living room and joined the rest of their cluster mates. San, Mingi and Yeosang were playing some video game on the TV; Jongho sat in an armchair and read a book, occasionally glancing to see how the game was going; Wooyoung sat on the ground with his head in San’s lap and Yunho sat cross-legged on the couch, narrating the game like a football narrator.

“Yeosangie, did Y/N get home safe?” Wooyoung asked as the round ended and Yeosang passed his controller to Yunho. A fond smile stretched itself onto the blond’s face as he nodded gently, thinking back to the way you had slept so peacefully in his car, light snores filling the silence of the vehicle.

“Who’s Y/N?” San asked, tilting his head down to look at Wooyoung.

“She’s an art student. We were each paired with one to work on a project. She actually came over here a few hours ago so we could start working a bit,” he explained. “I like her, she’s very pretty. A bit stubborn though, I almost had to fight her because we couldn’t agree on something. But I don’t think she’s very fond of me.” He concluded with a pout.

“Jongho also met her before, more or less,” Yeosang added, looking at the youngest as he shifted in his chair, “she works at that bookstore that you go to sometimes.”

The theatre student in question looked up, blinking at the ceiling and tilting his head as he tried to remember. He grimaced “The one that smells like a rotten lemon?”

“No,” Yeosang was quick to deny, not wanting any of the men that hadn’t met her to get the wrong impression. “The one that smells delicious.”

They talked about you for another ten minutes, Wooyoung recounting his experience working with you and Yeosang explained how you two had met. His brothers poked some fun at him, making it sound like he’d fallen head over heels for the girl that regularly ordered an iced latte with triple sugar. He swatted their teasing comments away but blushed the shade of Jongho’s hair when Wooyoung mentioned he’d seen some sketches in her sketchbook that looked an awful lot like him.

“If he liked her I wouldn’t really blame him,” Seonghwa had laughed, perfectly straight white teeth on display. “She’s intriguing.”

So, yeah, they all agreed there was something interesting about you. The ones that hadn’t met you tried coming up with ways to meet you, and the ones that had tried coming up with ways to meet you again. All the while Wooyoung giggled, knowing he’d have to spend the most time with you and loving the fact he could rub it into everyone’s faces.

But, for now, they wanted to spend their weekend relaxing and being lazy without constantly thinking about some cute girl. (That was a lie. Even though they would deny it, Wooyoung couldn’t deny the way his mind wandered to you every hour, wondering what you were up to; Seonghwa thought of you every time he stepped into the kitchen and if he concentrated hard enough—which he did for a single reason—he was sure he could still smell your sweet vanilla aroma wafting through the air; Jongho worked his way through his books faster so he could go to your book store and Yeosang spent his day at work hoping you’d walk through the door.)

You didn’t really question it, but were still mildly confused, when you walked out of the art studio the next Monday and saw Wooyoung standing against the wall, waiting for you. Students ogled as they passed by him and some talked and laughed extra loudly to get his attention, but his eyes remained on you.

Approaching him, you raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up, obviously.” He rolled his eyes playfully, reaching for your hand and dragging you out of the building. “I had another idea. I want to be able to do more for this project, so I’m going to choreograph and film a dance that we could maybe display at the exhibition with, like, a projector or something. You know, so we both contribute to this—equally. How does that sound?”

When he stopped and turned around to face you, he had to stop himself from cooing at your face as you thought. Your face was directed at him but your eyes looked unfocused, lower lip caught between your teeth as you tried to visualise his idea. Finally, you gave an approving hum and nod.

“That actually doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea,” you nodded as he resumed leading you to wherever it is he wanted to go. “Maybe the paintings could be based on pieces of your choreography.”

“Yeah, that’s also a great idea!” He cheered enthusiastically, a bright smile different from the usual mischievous one you see plastered on his lips. “Oh, also!” He stopped again as he remembered something, tugging on the hand that he still held within his colder one to get you to face him. “We’re gonna be hosting a party, you should come!”

Now that was something a bit harder for you to agree with.

“Oh, I don’t know…” The insecurity in your face dwindled as your words trailed off. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“Please, Y/N, just this once.” He gave you his best puppy eyes and pleading voice. “The rest of the guys want to meet you, and what better place than a party where you can let loose?”

You decided it was a tempting proposal. After a long, torturing pause, you finally sighed, “Fine. When is it?”

Excitement lit up on Wooyoung’s face and you could’ve sworn his brown eyes nearly started sparkling. “We were planning on Saturday, but we haven’t made the announcement yet so we could always change it if you want.”

The pure joy he felt faltered for a second as your face fell.

“I’m not available on Saturdays, so Friday or Sunday would work better for me if that’s ok.”

Instantly, he began nodding. “Yeah, we could do it on Friday. What do you do on Saturdays, if cou don’t mind me asking?”

Ah, shit. I did not think this far ahead. You smacked yourself mentally, scrambling to come up with a plausible excuse. If he found your hesitation suspicious, he didn’t say anything about it as he awaited your answer. Instead, he watched with interest, loosely swinging your conjoined hands from side to side.

“Oh, you know. I study and catch up on all the sleep I usually miss.”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at you, lips pursed and a contemplative hum ringing from him until he nodded and resumed his walk once again. “Okay. I’ll send you the address later, it won’t be at our house—last time someone broke the chandelier.”

“What chandelier?” Your brows furrowed as you briefly looked up to him. It was then that you realised he was still holding your hand, so as discreetly as possible, you tugged on it and hoped he would get the hint.

“Exactly.”

After a few more tugs it seemed like he finally noticed, his grip loosened and you were able to slip your hand out.

“Do you have any classes for the rest of the day?”

You shook your head after trying and succeeding to remember your schedule. “No, why?”

“Great, let’s go eat!”

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] this one's a bit short. i'm not really amazing at writing scenes that involve more than 4 people, but i've been getting better i think so it should be fine. we finally got some vampteez content in this chapter, hope y'all like that.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww  @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @d1am0ndw0lfxd @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @seongwin @yuyunhoo @kyukyustar @seongfury @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb ​​@asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I found this blog through a reblog and decided I’d poll Tumblr whether I’m the asshole. And the reason I’m concerned is because my mother (53 f) doesn’t think I’m the asshole, and that’s a bit of a red flag.

My sister (22 f) was home from college for break. She was to be traveling out of state to visit her boyfriend (23 m). Meaning, she was going to be flying in the continental US. As such, she needed a 1 qt, clear, plastic bag for her travel liquids. My family has several durable and clear plastic bags (as opposed to ziplocks) for this very purpose.

But rather than use one of these empty bags, she emptied my care bag.

This bag is fairly small. It usually holds my acne medication, including topical creams, tablets, prescribed moisturizer, etc… in travel sizes for me to take with me to work. I also include my migraine meds and lactose pills in this bag, among other things. And it fits perfectly within my backpack’s side pocket (which is why I bought it).

I noticed immediately that she had taken it as she had just dumped the contents all over my bathroom counter. So, I called her and told her that she needed to return it to me (at the time, she was only an hour away and her flight wasn’t for another week). She tried to play it off at first. “What bag?” Then she tried to reason that it wasn’t a big deal. Then she told me she didn’t want to make her bf drive an hour to return the bag to me as it’d put them an hour back in their drive, so I should just let it go.

And the reasonable part of me thinks… maybe I should? Maybe I should just go out and buy a new bag? Like… it’s annoying that she took it without asking and dumped everything out of it. It’s annoying that the bag doesn’t even meet TSA requirements as she claimed (it’s black and not completely clear). It’s annoying that I had asked her if she needed me to get her anything up for her night before and that rather than ask for help, she took something. And it’s annoying that she didn’t use the clear bags provided to her by our mother.

But the thing is… it’s not just the bag. This happens with all my stuff. It got so bad when I was a teen that my father put locks on all my drawers and doors that only I had keys to (my parents did have a spare set in the event I lost mine that they— ironically— “lost”).

EX: I have a pair of Levi jeans that I bought with a gift card from my grandparents. Levi’s are— well— expensive. Earlier last year, before she went back to school after break, I noticed they were missing. I called her and told her I was angry about this. She insisted I was “insane” and that she would never take them and that I likely misplaced them or lost them (I do have memory problems, combo of ADHD and whatever causes my migraines). My father helped me look for them. He even looked through her stuff. They *were not* in the house. But 5 months later after she came home from college, I found them under my bed (they were not previously under my bed). “See, I told you that you lost them.”

So, I told her that she needed to find a way to return the bag to me and that under no circumstances was she allowed to leave the state with it (if she did, there wasn’t much I would’ve or could’ve done about it, so I was hoping this ultimatum would work). And I said that if she didn’t return it, I would tell our mom about all the unused, unopened pregnancy tests she was stocking and hiding in her room (found when I went looking for spoons as she hides my mother’s spoons after using them). She told me “You’re insane. It’s just a bag,” but she did mail it back to me and I got it in time for work that Monday.

My mother says I was justified in demanding it back (she doesn’t know about the unused tests), but she is often petty and demanding and blows up or snaps at the smallest things. So, I am concerned that I made a big deal of nothing or that I took it too far.

AITAH? ESH?

What are these acronyms?

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Leveraged buyouts are not like mortgages

I'm coming to DEFCON! On FRIDAY (Aug 9), I'm emceeing the EFF POKER TOURNAMENT (noon at the Horseshoe Poker Room), and appearing on the BRICKED AND ABANDONED panel (5PM, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01). On SATURDAY (Aug 10), I'm giving a keynote called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification" (noon, LVCC - L1 - HW1–11–01).

Here's an open secret: the confusing jargon of finance is not the product of some inherent complexity that requires a whole new vocabulary. Rather, finance-talk is all obfuscation, because if we called finance tactics by their plain-language names, it would be obvious that the sector exists to defraud the public and loot the real economy.

Take "leveraged buyout," a polite name for stealing a whole goddamned company:

Identify a company that owns valuable assets that are required for its continued operation, such as the real-estate occupied by its outlets, or even its lines of credit with suppliers;

Approach lenders (usually banks) and ask for money to buy the company, offering the company itself (which you don't own!) as collateral on the loan;

Offer some of those loaned funds to shareholders of the company and convince a key block of those shareholders (for example, executives with large stock grants, or speculators who've acquired large positions in the company, or people who've inherited shares from early investors but are disengaged from the operation of the firm) to demand that the company be sold to the looters;

Call a vote on selling the company at the promised price, counting on the fact that many investors will not participate in that vote (for example, the big index funds like Vanguard almost never vote on motions like this), which means that a minority of shareholders can force the sale;

Once you own the company, start to strip-mine its assets: sell its real-estate, start stiffing suppliers, fire masses of workers, all in the name of "repaying the debts" that you took on to buy the company.

This process has its own euphemistic jargon, for example, "rightsizing" for layoffs, or "introducing efficiencies" for stiffing suppliers or selling key assets and leasing them back. The looters – usually organized as private equity funds or hedge funds – will extract all the liquid capital – and give it to themselves as a "special dividend." Increasingly, there's also a "divi recap," which is a euphemism for borrowing even more money backed by the company's assets and then handing it to the private equity fund:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/17/divi-recaps/#graebers-ghost

If you're a Sopranos fan, this will all sound familiar, because when the (comparatively honest) mafia does this to a business, it's called a "bust-out":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bust_Out

The mafia destroys businesses on a onesy-twosey, retail scale; but private equity and hedge funds do their plunder wholesale.

It's how they killed Red Lobster:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/23/spineless/#invertebrates

And it's what they did to hospitals:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/28/5000-bats/#charnel-house

It's what happened to nursing homes, Armark, private prisons, funeral homes, pet groomers, nursing homes, Toys R Us, The Olive Garden and Pet Smart:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/02/plunderers/#farben

It's what happened to the housing co-ops of Cooper Village, Texas energy giant TXU, Old Country Buffet, Harrah's and Caesar's:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/14/billionaire-class-solidarity/#club-deals

And it's what's slated to happen to 2.9m Boomer-owned US businesses employing 32m people, whose owners are nearing retirement:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/16/schumpeterian-terrorism/#deliberately-broken

Now, you can't demolish that much of the US productive economy without attracting some negative attention, so the looter spin-machine has perfected some talking points to hand-wave away the criticism that borrowing money using something you don't own as collateral in order to buy it and wreck it is obviously a dishonest (and potentially criminal) destructive practice.

The most common one is that borrowing money against an asset you don't own is just like getting a mortgage. This is such a badly flawed analogy that it is really a testament to the efficacy of the baffle-em-with-bullshit gambit to convince us all that we're too stupid to understand how finance works.

Sure: if I put an offer on your house, I will go to my credit union and ask the for a mortgage that uses your house as collateral. But the difference here is that you own your house, and the only way I can buy it – the only way I can actually get that mortgage – is if you agree to sell it to me.

Owner-occupied homes typically have uncomplicated ownership structures. Typically, they're owned by an individual or a couple. Sometimes they're the property of an estate that's divided up among multiple heirs, whose relationship is mediated by a will and a probate court. Title can be contested through a divorce, where disputes are settled by a divorce court. At the outer edge of complexity, you get things like polycules or lifelong roommates who've formed an LLC s they can own a house among several parties, but the LLC will have bylaws, and typically all those co-owners will be fully engaged in any sale process.

Leveraged buyouts don't target companies with simple ownership structures. They depend on firms whose equity is split among many parties, some of whom will be utterly disengaged from the firm's daily operations – say, the kids of an early employee who got a big stock grant but left before the company grew up. The looter needs to convince a few of these "owners" to force a vote on the acquisition, and then rely on the idea that many of the other shareholders will simply abstain from a vote. Asset managers are ubiquitous absentee owners who own large stakes in literally every major firm in the economy. The big funds – Vanguard, Blackrock, State Street – "buy the whole market" (a big share in every top-capitalized firm on a given stock exchange) and then seek to deliver returns equal to the overall performance of the market. If the market goes up by 5%, the index funds need to grow by 5%. If the market goes down by 5%, then so do those funds. The managers of those funds are trying to match the performance of the market, not improve on it (by voting on corporate governance decisions, say), or to beat it (by only buying stocks of companies they judge to be good bets):

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/17/shareholder-socialism/#asset-manager-capitalism

Your family home is nothing like one of these companies. It doesn't have a bunch of minority shareholders who can force a vote, or a large block of disengaged "owners" who won't show up when that vote is called. There isn't a class of senior managers – Chief Kitchen Officer! – who have been granted large blocks of options that let them have a say in whether you will become homeless.

Now, there are homes that fit this description, and they're a fucking disaster. These are the "heirs property" homes, generally owned by the Black descendants of enslaved people who were given the proverbial 40 acres and a mule. Many prosperous majority Black settlements in the American South are composed of these kinds of lots.

Given the historical context – illiterate ex-slaves getting property as reparations or as reward for fighting with the Union Army – the titles for these lands are often muddy, with informal transfers from parents to kids sorted out with handshakes and not memorialized by hiring lawyers to update the deeds. This has created an irresistible opportunity for a certain kind of scammer, who will pull the deeds, hire genealogists to map the family trees of the original owners, and locate distant descendants with homeopathically small claims on the property. These descendants don't even know they own these claims, don't even know about these ancestors, and when they're offered a few thousand bucks for their claim, they naturally take it.

Now, armed with a claim on the property, the heirs property scammers force an auction of it, keeping the process under wraps until the last instant. If they're really lucky, they're the only bidder and they can buy the entire property for pennies on the dollar and then evict the family that has lived on it since Reconstruction. Sometimes, the family will get wind of the scam and show up to bid against the scammer, but the scammer has deep capital reserves and can easily win the auction, with the same result:

https://www.propublica.org/series/dispossessed

A similar outrage has been playing out for years in Hawai'i, where indigenous familial claims on ancestral lands have been diffused through descendants who don't even know they're co-owner of a place where their distant cousins have lived since pre-colonial times. These descendants are offered small sums to part with their stakes, which allows the speculator to force a sale and kick the indigenous Hawai'ians off their family lands so they can be turned into condos or hotels. Mark Zuckerberg used this "quiet title and partition" scam to dispossess hundreds of Hawai'ian families:

https://archive.is/g1YZ4

Heirs property and quiet title and partition are a much better analogy to a leveraged buyout than a mortgage is, because they're ways of stealing something valuable from people who depend on it and maintain it, and smashing it and selling it off.

Strip away all the jargon, and private equity is just another scam, albeit one with pretensions to respectability. Its practitioners are ripoff artists. You know the notorious "carried interest loophole" that politicians periodically discover and decry? "Carried interest" has nothing to do with the interest on a loan. The "carried interest" rule dates back to 16th century sea-captains, and it refers to the "interest" they had in the cargo they "carried":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/29/writers-must-be-paid/#carried-interest

Private equity managers are like sea captains in exactly the same way that leveraged buyouts are like mortgages: not at all.

And it's not like private equity is good to its investors: scams like "continuation funds" allow PE looters to steal all the money they made from strip mining valuable companies, so they show no profits on paper when it comes time to pay their investors:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/20/continuation-fraud/#buyout-groups

Those investors are just as bamboozled as we are, which is why they keep giving more money to PE funds. Today, the "dry powder" (uninvested money) that PE holds has reached an all-time record high of $2.62 trillion – money from pension funds and rich people and sovereign wealth funds, stockpiled in anticipation of buying and destroying even more profitable, productive, useful businesses:

https://www.institutionalinvestor.com/article/2di1vzgjcmzovkcea8f0g/portfolio/private-equitys-dry-powder-mountain-reaches-record-height

The practices of PE are crooked as hell, and it's only the fact that they use euphemisms and deceptive analogies to home mortgages that keeps them from being shut down. The more we strip away the bullshit, the faster we'll be able to kill this cancer, and the more of the real economy we'll be able to preserve.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/05/rugged-individuals/#misleading-by-analogy