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[oracle-of-dream]

Welcome to the Dollhouse

Summary: Y/n is down on their luck making financial ends meet. When a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity forces them into a bargain that can't refuse. Now, they find themselves at a party searching for a partner but the person they get is someone they'd never expect.

Notes: Male Reader, Dubious Contracts, Financial Struggles, Idol Jay, Enhypen exists, Fake names, Kissing

Wordcount: 6.9k

It’s funny to think about how much money can buy. Many people say it can’t buy happiness, love, or fulfillment. But when push comes to shove. Money makes the world go round…

Being in college was all you wanted. A chance to get an education that was enough to get you away from the boring life that awaited you if you decided to miss out. Moving to a big city, far away from your parents wasn’t even the hard part. It was paying for college… You managed to land a decent scholarship, as long as you did your school work and did some volunteering to make the school look good then you’d be safe to coast through without any worries. Or that was the case. In your second semester of freshman year, one picture put you dead in the water.

It was your first party. No parents to worry about what time you’d be back. Friends watch you in case things get too crazy. And a cute guy who invited you. A frat boy.By the end of the night, videos of you drinking online circulated. And being a year under the drinking age wasn’t a good look either. The school tore away your scholarship, you were lucky they didn’t expel you. You didn’t have the heart to tell your parents what happened, so you had to find a way to pay for school alone. You looked for private loans, but most wouldn’t accept you without a guarantor, someone to pay them back if you couldn’t. And working odd jobs wouldn’t earn you enough money before the next semester. That’s where The Dollhouse entered the picture. 

This was the sixth bank you’d visited. You were desperate. Waiting for the subway, you were approached by a man in a long black coat. He was older than you, but not by much, his early thirties max. He wore a black shirt and pants, with black hair to match. He was almost like a shadow… if shadows were handsome men. “Excuse me, you dropped this!” He exclaimed as he rushed over to you. He had your phone in his hand, ready to offer it to you.

You must’ve dropped it at the bank. “Thank you so much! I’d be dead without this.”

“You should be more careful! You never know what kind of people you’ll meet. Stranger Danger and all that.”

You giggled. He sounded like your Dad saying that. “Aren’t you a stranger?”

He tilted his head to the side, pondering your point. “I suppose so. You can call me Seo-jun.”

“I’m y/n. Sorry for making you chase me here, and thanks again for bringing me my phone.”

He shook his head. “It’s no problem. I have to go this way for work anyway.”

“What kind of job do you have?”

“I’m sorta like a manager. I help connect people looking for work with clients looking for workers.” Seo-jun smiled wryly. “But right now, business is down. Some workers quit recently, and our clients want more new faces.”

You felt a pang in your stomach. You’d been cutting out meals to save money and your job was still only paying minimum wage. Considering you had a bit of free time, you took a chance. “I could lend a hand. I could use the money, and you did help me. It’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Seo-jun’s smile faded a bit. “Um… You’re a nice kid. But I don’t think our work is good for you.”

Originally you were offering just to be nice, but now your interest was piqued. “W-Why not?”��

“Don’t be like that. You look like a hard worker, but it’s not ordinary work. The paychecks are nice, but I’d hate to see such a good kid like you work there.”

“How well does it pay?”

“That’s beside the point–”

“How much does it pay!?” You demanded.

“Depending on your client. After fees from management, I’ve seen some workers make over $4,000 in less than a week of work.” Seo-jun sighed.

4k in a week could set you up for the entire semester before the end of the summer, and then some! “Take me to work with you! Please!” Seo-jun tried not to look you in the eye, but you gripped his arm and refused to let go. “Then you’ll have to walk with me there. I’ll just talk to your boss.”

“Woah, woah. I’ll take you there, just don’t make a scene. People are staring,” He whispered, trying to peel you off him.

Thankfully it wasn’t too far of a train ride. You spent it wondering what kind of work they’d had you do. You weren’t well-dressed, having sold off most of your nice clothing. Maybe if there were uniforms, then your clothes wouldn’t be much of a problem. Seo-jun was silent for most of the ride, texting someone. His face was dark, which made his face stand out more. He wasn’t just pretty, he was extremely handsome. His black hair settled on his forehead and dipped slightly past his eyebrow making him even more attractive. The type of look no one could get enough of. And a few of the girls on the train agreed with you, from how they stared.

Seo-jun guided you off the train after another five stops. You walked a few blocks, turned a corner, and approached a black building wedged between two pale ones. Before knocking, Seo-jun looked at you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I think I can handle it.” You were a bit nervous. There weren’t many people on this street, and the building was tall and imposing in the quiet neighborhood.

Seo-jun knocked on the door. It cracked open, and a big man with tattoos peeked through the crack. Once he registered who was at the door, it closed again before opening completely. Seo-jun said nothing as he entered the building, and you closely followed behind him. The large man shut the door behind you. Now you saw him completely, he looked more like an NFL player. He could easily throw you around if he wanted to. Seo-jun didn’t pay the man any mind, walking forward as he passed several doors. Each had a sign on it. Most said open and a few said occupied. The doors were closed and looked pretty heavy. It was so quiet, you could only hear the sounds of your footsteps on the tile. Seo-Jun led you to an office at the end of the hallway, putting in a key from his pocket and unlocking it. He sat down behind the desk, which was covered with papers. 

“Come in and take a seat, y/n.” 

You sat down in the chair in front of the desk. The room had a red velvet wall, and pictures of models. Or at least, they seemed like models. All of them were men in their early twenties, each was different but handsome. You even saw one that looked like Seo-Jun.

“Is that you?” You pointed at the photo.

Seo-Jun didn’t look. “Not anymore. That was a long time ago.” You raised an eyebrow. He looked almost the same in the photo as in front of you. But maybe it wasn’t the best time to push him to spill more. 

“Why are you looking for money?” Seo-Jun questioned.

“College. It’s expensive, ya know?”

He scoffed. “Yeah. I know. Don’t you have parents, or any other family who can help?”

You shook your head. “That’s not an option.” Thinking about your family left a bitter taste in your mouth. They’d be so disappointed if they knew how bad things had gotten.

He pursed his lips like he understood the feeling. “How much money do you need?”

“Ideally, enough for school.”

“Give me a number.”

“It’s about $10k a semester. More if I live on campus.”

“Okay, and when school’s not in session, do you have a place to live? Around here, specifically.” You shook your head. You caught yourself about to talk about your family home, but maybe it was best not to… Seo-Jun typed a few things on a calculator on his phone, opened a laptop, and waited for it to start. “Okay. If you start working with us, it's like this. We’ll give you the money and other necessities you need, and you have to work off that amount.”

“You’ll give me the money?”

“I’ll have you log into your student account, and I’ll pay your semester in advance now. But that’s only if you accept our offer.”

“Of course!”

Seo-Jun sighed. “Please hear me completely before you decide.” He straightened his back as he pulled the laptop closer to him. He typed a few things before turning the computer around, and showing you the screen. It was a camera feed. “This is what we do.”

You watched closely. It looked like a guy your age was in a room with another person. They were talking. You were about to look away, shrugging it off before you saw the boy kneel on the ground. He was doing something to the older man’s pants. You leaned in to see, but the camera wasn’t clear enough.

“What is this?”

“This is the job. Be a partner for your clients, whatever that means for them. Then they’ll pay you for the service.” Seo-Jun’s jaw went slack. “Like I said, this isn’t an ordinary job. But if you take it, we’ll take care of you. You’ll have a home and meals, and we’ll keep our end of the bargain and pay for school.”

You sat back in your chair as the reality of the offer landed on you. Being hired, partner… A fancy way to say, prostitute. Was this really the only way?

“I know that you don’t want to pressure your family with your financial situation. And I’ll be honest, we didn’t bump into each other by mistake.” Seo-Jun pulled your phone out of his pocket.

You didn’t even realize you’d dropped it…

“You didn’t drop it. I stole it. I needed an excuse to talk to you, and for you to trust me. I know you’ve been looking for loans, but can’t get any.” Seo-Jun leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “We need workers, and you need our help. Or… does your sweet mother wanna hear about your scholarship?”

A cold sweat ran down your neck. You’d walked right into a cage and didn’t even realize it. “What scholarship?” You gulped.

“The one you lost. It’s a shame. How one mistake can ruin everything for you, isn’t it?” Seo-Jun put a video on the laptop, the same one that ruined your chances of living a normal college life. “We can make it so the video never sees the light of day again, as a bonus for signing with us. You won’t have to worry about mommy seeing it, or knowing how you lost your scholarship. You’ll have school paid for, and have time to study. All you need to do is be a worker.” Seo-Jun pulled a piece of paper from a stack on his desk, a pre-printed contract, with your name at the top. “You can read through it if you’d like. Everything I promised is in there.”

Seo-Jun placed the paper on the desk, sliding it toward you, with a pen on top.

“How can you do this to people?” You mumbled.

“It’s never easy. I did try to give you a warning, but you insisted.”

“That was before I knew this!” You wanted to throw the paper at him and storm out, but your legs were glued to the seat. This was a once-in-a-lifetime offer.

“I’ll also mention. Any extra “gifts” you get from your clients will be yours to keep. Frequently, we get high-profile clients who love to have specific partners they visit. And they bring them gifts every time they visit; from clothes and jewelry to cars and even buildings.” Seo-Jun stood from his seat, walking around the desk to lean on it close to you. “It’s a good deal. Fair and transparent. If you’re lucky, you’ll be out fast. And your identity is completely concealed within our walls. No one will ever know you worked here unless we want them to know.” He picked up your hand and the pen, placing them together. “So, what’s the call?”

Your jaw was so tight, you struggled to speak, “C-Can I sleep on this?” 

“No. Once you walk out the door, the offer’s gone.” He said flatly.

The pressure was too much. You couldn’t think of anything. There was no real way out, and this was too good of an offer to pass. Even if you refused, how could you afford the new semester? You sighed heavily before moving the pen to the paper, slowly signing your name. The red ink flowed on the paper, drying into a deep crimson like you were using your blood to sign.

“Excellent. As of today, you’re a part of the Dollhouse.” Seo-Jun snatched the paper off the desk, folding it and tucking it into his back pocket. “Here’s this back,” He handed your phone back to you. “One more thing, if you violate our contract or try to run. We’ll drag your ass back here faster than you can blink. If not then your parents will have to pay off the loan.”

Your head hung. Guilt sat on your shoulder as you leaned back in the chair. This was your fate now…

Seo-Jun handed you a card. “You’ll go back to your dorm. When you do, call this number and answer whatever questions they ask. We’ll have to come by in about a week for measurements.”

“What measurements?”

“We need your body measurements to advertise you. And we’ll have to dress you, give you a nice haircut, and dress you up. Which, the Dollhouse will pay for. This will add to your debt, naturally.”

“I-I don’t want it then!”

“If you don’t look nice, no one will ask for you. If not, then you won’t make any money. If you make us no money, you’ll be stuck in our arrangement for a while.” Seo-Jun frowned. “I don’t enjoy this, so let’s make this as easy as possible. There’s an event next week where new clients can meet our workers clandestinely. It’s like a mixer, speed-dating. That’s your best way to get a high-roller on your account to support you.”

You rolled your eyes. “This is so stupid. Why would anyone pick me anyway?”

Seo-Jun glared at you. “Do not talk about yourself like that. If you start looking down on yourself, clients can tell you don’t value yourself. If you can value yourself, how can you value them?”

Seo-Jun sent you back on your way, giving you directions back home. The ride back home felt like hours. All you could do was try not to cry. You tried so hard to come to the city to be someone different than how you could’ve been back home, but it wasn’t supposed to be like this. You got back to your dorm. It was dark and quiet, just like that building. You were lucky enough not to have any roommates. No one to hear you cry yourself to sleep…

In the morning, you woke up as your phone rang. You rolled over, ignoring the call. But it rang, again and again. After the fourth phone call in a row, you looked at it. It was an unknown number.

You answered cautiously. “H-Hello?”

“Y/n? Have you lost your mind?” Seo-Jun said, with disappointment in his tone.

“How did you get this number?”

“I stole your phone. I knew I had to get your number too. Just in case you ran off.” He sighed. “I thought you did for a moment. That would’ve been a lot of trouble for the both of us… Why didn’t you call me when you got home?”

You’d completely forgotten about calling the number on the card. “Sorry. It slipped my mind.”

“Let’s get rid of that habit. Being forgetful isn’t cute. Some clients will call you at different times of the day and don’t take kindly to being ignored. You’ve got a job that’s busier than full-time. It’s 24/7.”

“Well, what do you want, Seo-Jun?”

“When we’re talking business, please call me Mr. Seo-Jun.”

You groaned but knew he wasn’t joking. “What do you want, Mr. Seo-Jun?”

“I need you to tell me your school login. I want to see your schedule for classes and pay your bill.” You told him without any fuss. You were too tired to give a damn anymore. “There’s a good boy. Now, you can go back to the rest of your week. I’ll keep in touch.”

Seo-Jun hung up before you could answer him. It was Wednesday, meaning your classes started later in the day. You took your time showering and picking out clothes. It was thirty minutes before class when you went to the bus stop. Like clockwork, your friend, Eun, waited for you to arrive.

Eun was a friend you made during the first semester of college. He was 5’9” and goofy, often laughing at his jokes like a comedy club. He probably heard a laugh track in his head when he told jokes. He usually dressed in bright-colored shirts, denim jeans, and a big smile. He was also there for you when you’d gone through the frat party fiasco. Most of your “friends” had ditched you, throwing you under the bus for drinking to save their necks. But Eun was the only one who stayed by your side.

Eun waved at you as you walked toward him. “Good morning!”

“Morning, Eun.”

He studied your face for a moment. “Yeesh, what happened? You look like you had a rough sleep.”

“Thanks, buddy. You always know just what to say…” You sighed as you looked up at the sky.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny. Seriously dude, are you okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure… then, you��ll wanna hear about how Enhypen are coming to the area to perform.”

Your eyes bulged. “Enhypen’s coming here!? No fucking way, when!?”

“The news dropped this morning. They’re holding a small concert on campus around next week!” 

Your stomach churned. Next week!? That’s when the mixer was supposed to be. Maybe you could ask Seo-Jun for a day off to attend the concert…

Eun saw your smile drop. “Hey, dude, seriously. What’s going on? Normally you’re super excited about this kind of stuff.”

“I am. I’ve got some stuff happening next week, so I hope they don’t overlap.” You prayed that it would be some swift joke that would pass you by…

The next few days passed, and you kept a close eye on your phone. Not a single call or text from your new boss. Or would your owner be the right word? You checked your school login a few days ago, and your school bill for the next semester was already paid in advance. It was good to know Seo-Jun was a man of his word. But it also meant that everything else he’d said would pass too. It wasn’t until Monday that you got some news. 

The Enhypen concert was on a Friday. Which made sense, students would stay on campus all the time. So why not have a concert that night? However, your morning was disturbed by a call. You answered it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Good job answering the first time. You’re learning.” You could hear the smirk on his face.

“Let’s get to the part where you tell me what you want.”

“To the point it is. The date of the mixer is set to be this Friday night, it’ll be pretty late so get your homework done in time.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like you care about my schoolwork.”

“Of course I do. I’m the one paying for it.”

“What time exactly is the mixer?”

“Why?” Seo-Jun questioned.

“Well, there’s a concert happening on campus and I wanted to go–”

Seo-Jun sucked his teeth. “No. You’re expected to be here before sunset so we can get you ready. Tardiness will only put the whole team behind schedule, and some client’s time is precious.”

“But–”

“Be here. Friday. After class. Bye.” Seo-Jun hung up without another word.

You huffed a heavy sigh as you texted Eun that you wouldn’t attend the concert. Naturally, he was concerned about why and questioned you, but you lied about having a family matter to attend to. He promised to take videos for you at least. It left you feeling like a dog on a leash. Any time Seo-Jun pulled on it, you had no choice but to follow his orders. In the days before the mixer, he asked you more questions about the style of clothes you’d enjoy, strengths, weaknesses, talents, quirks, birthmarks, anything you hated, and even your allergies.

On Friday, after your last class. There was a black SUV waiting outside your dorm. Walking past the suspicious car, the window rolled down. “Just going to ignore me?” Seo-Jun’s voice whistled out. You turned to see him sitting in the back seat. “Get in. Time for fitting.”

“I just got home. Don’t I get to change or something?”

“Does it matter? You’d just be changing just to change again. You’ll have time to relax while waiting for the mixer to start.” You got in the car, tossing your backpack in. The car was nice. You didn’t recognize the driver. 

Seo-Jun handed you a folder. “Does everything in here look right?”

You opened it. It was almost like a resume, all about you. From an approximate height and weight to even an ethnicity check. “How did you guess my ethnicity? I didn’t tell you that.”

He shrugged. “The internet is a scary place. If you’ve put it somewhere online before, it's on the dark web.” They closed the folder and tucked it into a briefcase. “So, let me explain the mixer a bit. Generally, it's an event for our workers to meet new clients. But also for some of our clients to show off to their rich buddies and convince them to invest in our services. Be presentable, flexible, and obedient to earn attention.” Out of the briefcase, Seo-Jun produced pictures of young men pandering to their clients. “Now, we never call our clients “clients” to their face. They’re our partners. And you’ll need a persona. Something that’s already similar to who you are so you don’t need to act too much. Some like them feisty, others like our boys a little more submissive.”

“How do I come up with one?”

“Don’t, just be you and they will. Once you’ve got one, then stick to it. The savior types might be your best bet, so maybe you’ll get them with a sort of damsel persona.”

“Savior types?”

“The ones who get off on the fact they’re helping you. Like they’re the only ones who ever could, so you need them to save you.”

There was so much nuance to this… It made your head hurt just thinking about it. 

Seo-Jun studied your expression. “It’s your first one, so don’t worry about standing out. You’ll be standing with the newbies, like a puppy in an adoption bin. All the newbies are workers without a regular client, so they’re a bit cutthroat when someone gets close.”

“Anything else?” You sighed as you scrolled through your phone.

Seo-Jun leaned forward and snatched it, putting it inside his briefcase.“Also, you can't use phones. You’ll be engaged the whole time, so we can’t risk distractions. And we can’t let you take any photos of anyone.” 

You grumbled as you looked out of the heavily tinted windows. The rest of the car ride was silent, even the car didn’t make much noise. After the car ride, you were escorted into the Dollhouse. Upstairs were the living quarters for all the “Dolls” as Seo-Jun called them. You were now one of the Dolls of his house. Each doll was awarded their room. Some got to move out if their clients bought them a place to stay, but they weren’t allowed to leave the city without permission. And, each doll had a name. Something they’d go by. Your new name, Minsu, means Elegant and Beautiful according to Seo-Jun. 

“Okay. From now on, anytime you’re in the dollhouse or with a client, you’ll be called Minsu. Clients can pay to change their name. But it's how we can identify you without exposing your identity.” Seo-Jun elaborated, “We’ve had issues in the past of clients who get too attached to their dolls and tried to approach someone’s family to ask permission to marry their song. Which, of course, we dealt with before disaster struck.”

Minsu… You’re new name. Nothing was yours anymore. Your body, time, and now name wasn’t even yours.

“Let’s practice.” Seo-Jun cleared his throat. “Minsu, how are you?”

You hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’m fine… Mr. Seo-Jun.”

“Good job. You even remembered Mr.” He smiled. Seo-Jun put your backpack in your room. It was a simple room, with a bed, desk, and wardrobe. It was bare. “You can decorate it with what you want, it's all yours. But if your client gives you a gift, I’d recommend making a space for it. They notice this kind of stuff.”

You looked around the room. The floor was hardwood, cold, and slightly creaky. You weren’t given much time to settle before Seo-Jun took you to the next floor. “This is the dressing room. We dress the dolls here in outfits when they have to attend events. We also have makeup available, if you don’t know how to use it we can teach you. You are expected to wear makeup, shave, and keep your body healthy while in our care.” There were two older women there. It was the first time you’d seen women in the dollhouse so far.

“This is Jill and Mary. They’re the main doll caretakers and your beauticians. They make you beautiful on the inside and out for our clients. They also help with cooking and cleaning, so please treat them kindly.”

You nodded to them shyly.

Mary cracked a smile. Her caramel brown skin had glitter around her eyes, and her smile was so white even the crayon wouldn’t be able to keep up. Her clothes were simple but chic like she was about to walk a runway. Jill was white, her most notable feature was her colorful hair. Her tattoos, where they could be seen, were amazingly detailed. She had a snake slithering up her throat, ready to bite her chin.

Seo-Jun cleared his throat. “Introduce yourself.”

“O-Oh! I’m y/n.”

Seo-Jun chuckled. “Not that name, remember?”

“I have to use my fake name with other workers too?”

Seo-Jun frowned. “It’s not fake. It’s your name. It’s just a second one to the one you’re born with. And yes, anonymity is our friend here. So use the name that you were given, please.”

You turned to the women, who were smiling expectantly. “Hi… I’m Minsu. I guess.”

Mary spoke first, “You’ll get used to it. It’s a transitory period right now so just take it slow.” Jill nodded in agreement. “Now, you’re here for fitting, right?” You could tell Mary had a slight English accent, but she was suppressing it.

“I’ll leave it to you. Minsu’s a very good boy, he won’t cause any trouble,” Seo-Jun said as he left you with the two women. Mary and Jill were thorough, each taking a side of your body and measuring you. The length of your arms, legs, waist size, and even your bust. 

“So, this will be your first mixer, no?” Mary asked.

You nodded.

“Are we looking for something more cute or sexy with the concept here, Mary?” Jill asked.

“Let’s ask him.” 

Mary looked at you, waiting for you to answer. “Um… I guess cute?”

Jill booed at you. “You’ve got a sexy frame already. We can crop a top, get you loose-fitting shorts, and give you something cozy yet sexy.”

“Jill, let’s respect him here. Minsu doesn’t want that. Plus, he’d look way better in leather and sheer. I already know what you’re thinking. That just won’t work.”

Jill and Mary started holding up pieces over you, arguing about what to give you. Slowly they moved away from the cute vibe you’d asked for… By the end, you had a sheer shirt, black leather pants, with a leather belt around your waist, not your pants, and a gray denim jacket. You were given some silver accessories, rings, and necklaces to try on. 

You’d never worn anything so… revealing. Without your jacket or the design on the front of the shirt, you’d be shirtless. The black sheet was see-through; you could see your stomach in the mirror, and your belt only pulled attention to it. The belt was odd. It was above your pants, so make your waist smaller, so the loops used for belts were altered to move up for the belt to slide through and keep your pants up.

“Minsu, you look great!” Jill exclaimed. 

Mary nodded in agreement. “Jill was right, your body suits a sexier concept anyway. Just keep the jacket on if you’re feeling modest. But if you want to get attention, take it off halfway through the party. Pretend it's warm or something!”

The pair squealed like young girls, rambling about ways to appeal to potential clients. But you were just tired and hungry. “So, when can I eat?”

“Oh, you haven’t eaten?” Jill frowned.

“We’ll get you something light. We don’t want to bloat you too much, since you have the belt on. There’s food at the mixer but remember not to stuff your face.” Mary said as she stepped away.

“Why not?”

“Well, what if a client wants to take you home? You’ll want your body to look its best if you have to perform.” Jill squealed. You hadn’t thought of that. What if someone does show an interest in you? And they want something physical from you… Would you be able to go through with it?

Mary returned with a sliced apple. “This should hold you over for now. The mixer will be soon. We still have to do your hair and makeup. So sit, It’s alright if you doze off, we’ll take good care of you.” You listened, sitting in a studio chair as they started working, one on your hair and the other on your makeup. Like magic, you passed out almost immediately in the chair. When you opened your eyes, they’d just finished their last touches.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty. You look amazing!” You looked into the mirror in front of you. Your eyebrows had been brushed. Your shawling and nose had never been more prominent. And your hair had a shine that you could only really get from a hair salon.

“Thank you… This is great.” You mumbled as you looked over yourself.

The pair smiled triumphantly. “It's all a part of the job! So go knock them out! Seo-Jun will be here any minute to take you to the mixer.” 

They started cleaning as you left the room, going back to your room. There was a mirror on your desk. You used it to study yourself more. Their work was impeccable, with model-quality makeup in such a short time. The alone time you’d found was spoiled quickly with a knock at the door. You answered it to see Seo-Jun waiting.

“Let’s go. Leave your backpack, you can get it later.”

You put the mirror back on your desk and followed Seo-Jun out the door. The venue for the mixer was toward the downtown area in a hotel, one of the large classy ballrooms. There were waitstaff walking with finger food. Many young men, all fashionably dressed, stood around talking to each other. It was intimidating seeing some of them. They could easily be actors and models on the front of magazines… Then there was you, the college kid who wasn’t in the same league as them.

Seo-Jun led you to an empty table. “Okay, you’ll sit here. If anyone comes to you, talk to them respectfully but in a friendly manner. You’re the only doll from our house, all these other ones won’t know you. Remember, Minsu, nothing about your personal life. Or theirs. Keep everything hidden, and tell only what you need to.”

You nodded nervously. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try and point you out to a few people.” Seo-Jun turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm. He was all you’d known for the last week. And now he was leaving you alone at a table at this huge party. “If you want to be a baby, do that to clients. But with me don’t be a baby, I’ll be watching the whole time. Nothing will happen to you.” He pulled his hand away and walked off, talking to a few men in suits.

The mixer began shortly after. Men started slowly filling the room, all dressed in formal clothes, from suits or high-end outfits. Not one paid you any mind. You were relieved that no one was interested in you. You occasionally looked around the room, searching for Seo-Jun with little luck. The first hour was a panic fest, silently hoping no one would sit at your table and talk to you. In the second hour, some clients found who they liked talking to and stuck to certain areas. Some dolls had almost seven men around them at any time. In the third hour, some dolls left with their partners. 

Thankfully, not one person seemed interested in you. You’d been sitting so long that your legs started to fall asleep. You’d tried your best to eat any time the servers walked past you with a plate, but the buffet at the other end of the room was almost calling you. Cautiously, looking over your shoulders, you stood and made your way over. Walking like you knew what to do, or like you belonged. The table was full of interesting foods you’d never tried. Mostly seafood and assorted fruits. You took a plate and started stacking it with whatever seemed the yummiest, which was one of everything!

It wasn’t until you reached the end that you realized how much you’d grabbed. It wouldn’t all fit on your plate. If you tried walking back to your seat, you’d drop something… You turned, slowly toward your table when you bumped into someone, keeping the damage under control. You don’t drop your food! 

The person in front of you let out a heavy sigh. You looked forward, a huge spot on their shirt from where you’d bumped into them.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed.

He shook his head. “It’s alright, you didn’t mean to.”

You put your plate down on a nearby table. You slid the sleeve of your jacket down, making it slide off your shoulder, as you rubbed the spot. It didn’t look like it was going to clean neatly. “I’m really sorry. I can take it and get it washed?” You suggested as you looked at the man’s face.

You realized he was extremely familiar–like celebrity familiar. He had a middle part with long dark hair that draped his eyes. His jawline was sharp, and his eyebrows knitted together in frustration. 

“Do I know you?” You asked.

“Uh, no. We don’t know each other.” The man assured.

The spot wasn’t getting any better and some people were starting to stare. “How about you take my jacket for now?” You slid off your jacket, showing off your top completely to the room.

“Oh, I–That’s not necessary.” The man said, looking away from you. “Just put your jacket back on.”

“I insist! I ruined your shirt!” More people started staring, and whispering. 

“Fine! I’ll take it, just give it!” He snatched the jacket from you, pulling it over himself as he looked down. His long hair covered his face as he looked around. 

“Do you have a table? You can sit with me, and we can talk about getting your shirt cleaned.”

The man nodded again. “Fine, just take me away from here.”

You took him to your table in the corner of the room, where you’d spent the last three hours alone. Many more people were watching you this time than when you’d left. Maybe Jill was right about your shirt… It made you a little self-conscious with so much staring. You pulled out a chair for the man and sat next to him.

“I’m y-Minsu! It’s nice to meet you.” You put your hand out.

“Are things always like this?” 

You shrugged. “This is my first time here, so I don’t really know.”

The man looked around the room, acknowledging the looks. “Well… That’s nice.”

You sat awkwardly as you looked at him. You noticed Seo-Jun behind him, toward the other end of the room, motioning something to you. Talk to him?

“So, Mister? What brings you here?” You asked,

“You don’t need to call me that. My name’s Jay. I… came here for something stupid and I don’t think I should’ve come.”

You smiled at him. “You sound like someone made you come here. I didn’t want to be here either. I was so worried that someone would talk to me, but it turns out that no one would even pay attention to me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I just… don’t think this is my sort of party. And I’m not very good at meeting new people. I’m only here because I have to.”

Jay nodded. “I get that. I really only came because my members teased me about not meeting any new people.”

“Members?”

Jay’s eyes flickered to you. “Y-Yeah. I’m a part of a group. I’m a performer.”

“Whoa! Do you make music? I’d love to listen to it.”

Jay smirked. “It’s not me who makes the music. But I dabble.”

“I don’t have my phone. Tell me your band, and I’ll try to remember it.”

Jay leaned close to you to whisper, “I’m a member of Enhypen.”

You blinked. The words echoed in your brain before you looked at the man again. That’s where you’d seen him! He was Jay from Enhypen, and he was talking to you. “O-Oh, yeah I’ve heard of that group before.”

“Oh? Are you a fan?” Jay smiled. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”

“I’m not trying to be weird. I am a fan, but if you wanna forget about it or talk to someone else–”

“No. You’re funny. And I think it would be better to spend time with a fan.” Jay slipped your jacket off and placed it over your shoulders. “I think this suits you better than me, by the way.” Your heart was fluttering a mile a minute. Jay said he wanted to spend time with you and even draped a jacket over your shoulders. Eun would be foaming at the mouth at this point.

“Could I ask why you’re at an all-guy mixer?”

“You can, but then I’d ask you the same question.”

“Touche…” You chuckled awkwardly. “Well, I’m here for another hour. So we can chat… or whatever.”

Jay smirked. “Would you wanna talk somewhere else?”

You nodded. “I’m cool with that. It beats talking here, with all the staring.”

“Then let’s roll,” Jay said as he stood. You followed him as he led you out of the room. You spotted Seo-Jun who gave you a thumbs-up as you passed by. Jay took you to a room in the hotel. It had an amazing view since it was on a higher floor.

“Jay, check this out! It’s so high!” You cheered.

“So, uh. I’m kind of awkward at this since I’ve never done it. I don’t have any preferences or anything. I’d be okay to start and see how it goes.” Jay said.

You turned around to see Jay sitting on the bed in the room. “What?”

“Isn’t this the part where we… do stuff?” Jay raised an eyebrow.

Your face went warm. You hadn’t thought about the context of things until now. Jay was at a party to meet a partner to spend the night with… and he’d chosen you. And like an idiot you accepted thinking he just wanted to talk.

“I-I…”

“Is it more of a, I tell you what to do?” Jay stood, walking toward you. “I’m new to this whole thing, so I’d appreciate it if you could help me.”

You couldn’t form the words you wanted. All of the thoughts in your mind couldn’t fit the situation in front of you. “I-I’m new too,” was all that you could muster.

“Well, that works for the both of us then. We can figure it out together…” Jay approached you until the both of you were at the window. Your back against it, he leaned his arm on the glass near your head. “Let’s just go slow.” 

Jay’s tone was calm and empathetic as if he were as worried as you were. He slid his free hand behind your neck and kissed you softly. Your eyes fluttered shut as you placed your hands against his chest, letting him move as he pleased. It was a peck at first. Just a touch, a test. Then Jay leaned in again for a kiss, your lips meeting for longer. His nose brushed yours as he started to move his lips experimentally to find what he liked…

[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

[hangesophtalmologist]

the Salesman's obsession

part 2

title: the salesman’s obsession

(part 1), part 2

pairing: squid game’s salesman x f! reader

synopsis: you played with fire. the salesman wants to make sure you get burned.

a/n: 1,6k on part 1 y’all are actually crazy, tysm for the support!! I do apologize for taking sm time to write the rest, I usually get really productive in writing when I have important tasks that I ignore, but those were unfortunately impossible to ignore this month.

Days passed, but the Salesman couldn’t shake you from his thoughts. The slap had left an indelible mark—not on his cheek, but somewhere deeper, in the dark, cobwebbed corners of his psyche where he kept his ugliest desires

Each game he won, each slap he gave, each life he condemned tasted bland since your encounter – since you, he had tasted the bitter humiliation he imposed on the lowlifes. He was thirsty for something more than the usual pathetic pleas.

Finding out about your money problems wasn’t hard. Your family had helped you out of a terrible addiction, but despite their financial support, you were still drowning in debt, one step away from taking out a bank loan to keep yourself afloat. Maybe he was too eager to have you back in his claws – he didn’t elaborate a plan. When he approached you again, an invitation card in his pocket and a professional smile on his face, you weren’t surprised to see him.

“You’re persistent,” you had glanced at him dismissively, focusing back on your phone.

“Thorough, I’d say. One must be when dealing with large sums of money.”

You didn’t take the bait. He doubted you would – you were slier, prouder, more deceiving.

“Right,” you smiled with a hint of mocking—a fake, perfect smile he also mastered. “Nothing to do with being a sore loser, Mister?”

He let out a chuckle, ignoring the exhilarating rush of adrenaline filling his veins. He sat next to you, intoxicated by the proximity and the appeal of the game.

“Mrs, what do you think about life?”

You ignored him, but he didn’t mind. He liked your defiance; it would make your submission much more pleasurable.

“I like to think life is game,” he started. “Right now, I am winning. I can do anything I want, buy everything I need, dispose of what I do not like. Tell me, Mrs. Y/N.” Your name rolled off his tongue like he was savoring it, tasting its foreign sound. “Do you think you are winning at life?”

You weren’t. He had spent the last few days watching every single thing you did—how you held back the queue in the supermarket because you didn’t have enough to buy that bag of rice. How you zoned out so that you didn’t have to listen to your boss lecturing you and insulting you. How you couldn’t enter the crowded bus at night and had to walk home for an hour. You were miserable. Poor. Mistreated. With no exit door. He knew you were desperate – he just had to make you admit it to yourself.

You remained silent. The Salesman didn’t realize he had leaned toward you, greedily scrutinizing each of your movements to see the moment where you’d betray your own shame. So, when you turned your head to the side, your lips were inches apart from his, your cold eyes boring fiercely into his, and he felt something dark, something hungry gnawing at him.

“Such a handsome face,” you murmured, gaze traveling over his features, “hiding such ugly thoughts. Shame.”

Your words sounded like purrs to his ear, your disdain fueling the lustful beast inside him.

“Truths are often ugly, I fear,” the man replied slowly, enjoying himself. “That is why people like you usually lie to themselves. Mrs. Y/n, I can help you win something more than a ddakji game.”

Your eyes caught the light reflected on a golden card between his fingers. Triangle, circle, square. No name, no business direction. You scoffed.

“Don’t you have a family to play games with, Mister?” you asked, mocking and cold. “Because I do. Even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t go around begging people and waving dollars to their faces so that they’d spare me a minute. But remind me again, who’s winning at life?”

The Salesman cocked his head, licking his lips—enjoying the venom in your voice. The fierceness in your stance when you stood up to walk away. The fire in your eyes. What a pretty little thing you were. And you had just taken the first step in his trap.

“I won’t need to remind you,” he smiled, a smile that could have seemed genuine if not for the threatening undertone of his words. “Take care, Mrs. Y/n. Times are tough.”

You rolled your eyes, dismissing him completely. You made a mental note not to slap lunatics again—they didn’t get over it easily. Casting one last glance at the handsome man you left behind, you shook your head. Too bad he’s a psycho.

The next morning, your phone buzzed—an automated message from the bank. You groaned in your bed, rolling over, and nearly deleted it without reading. Yet your eyes caught the words through your half-closed lids, and your heart dropped. “Loan application denied.”

You stared at the words until they blurred.

It wasn’t possible. You hadn’t defaulted. You hadn’t missed payments.

Yet the numbers didn’t lie.

By noon, you were in front of the bank, jaw tight, as the teller fidgeted behind the glass. His eyes flicked nervously to the side, barely listening to your protest.

“There’s nothing I can do, miss,” he repeated, voice thin and tired.

You sighed, hand twitching as you rubbed your temples, shaking your head in disbelief. But just as you stood up to leave – you saw him. Across the street.

The Salesman.

Leaning casually against a vending machine, a satisfied smirk curled his lips. Watching you intensely. You stared at him, pulse thudding in your ears—it wasn’t possible, was it? He can’t possibly have…

He didn’t wave. Didn’t move. Just smiled. Then he turned on his heels and disappeared in the crowd.

Your heart pounded, ringing in your mind like a daunting alarm, and for the first time, you wondered who exactly was the man you had offended. And just like that, he started haunting every second of your life. Each day brought its share of new problems, piling up like they intended to crush you—and it was too big to be a mere coincidence. A new landlord raising the rent, your company suddenly merging with another one and having to downsize, your car breaking down in the middle of the day. Even without seeing him again, you couldn’t shake off the daunting feeling that the Salesman had something to do with your misfortune.

As days stretched into weeks, the shadows of frustration and despair crept into your movements, your half-smiles becoming taut and forced, and your answers to your family’s worry becoming more dismissive. One day after work, exhausted from the workload of your now-fired colleagues, you sat down on an empty alley, resting your head on your forehead.

Fuck, you thought. How am I going to make it? Life had never been so hard.

Life? Who were you kidding? Your life didn’t change—the laughter of your friends, the taste of food, the warmth of a morning sun—these things hadn’t changed. But suddenly, life wasn’t just yours to experience - you had to earn it, bargain for it, prove yourself worth it again, again and again until you finally lost the last ounce of strength in your body. And it was money - money, money, money, money—and every single thing was about money, and you knew it before, but you didn’t care enough until you had not a single penny in your pocket anymore.

Well. I can probably blame myself a bit for this.

Your eyes fluttered shut, lassitude winning over your body. And when you finally thought you could offer yourself some peace, a muted thump right next to your feet startled you.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was paper bills. Scattered all over the dirty ground. You almost laughed at yourself—were you so miserable that people now believed you a beggar?

“I don’t need th-“ your words died in your throat when you looked up.

A voice you hadn’t heard in weeks sent a thrill down your spine. “I think you do.”

The Salesman had made his move.

He was towering over you, a pleasant smile on his lips, dark hair framing his beautiful face. There was a flicker of something behind that nonchalance, behind his careful appearance. It was taking him every ounce of self-restraint to tame the rush in his veins. After spending so much time dissecting each aspect of your life, stalking each of your movements, spying on each of your actions—from afar – he finally had you back in his claws, a little mouse pined down mercilessly by the metallic snap of his trap. It was thrilling, to be so close to crushing you. You had never looked as pretty as you did now, broken down, dark circles under your hopeless eyes, colors drained from your cheeks.

But he had to be patient—there was one last hypothesis to test.

“Care for a game?”

A scoffed escape your lips, chuckling until you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. You stood up, facing him with the same fierceness he couldn’t tame.

“I knew it was you.”

Standard protocol would have been to deny – but the Salesman wanted you to know it was him. Him all along. That made you miserable. That had all the power over your life since the day you met. He eagerly drank up each tick of your muscle, each flicker in your eyes. He licked his lips, unable to stop the victorious smirk tearing his face in two.

“Fuck your games,” you muttered, your tone icy, leaning until your faces were inches apart, his gaze falling on your lips. “My life isn’t a game. Stay the hell out of it.”

His expression softened—mocking, theatrical empathy. “If you didn’t hate the game when you thought you were winning, Mrs Y/n, knowing others were losing, are you really allowed to hate it when you finally lose?”

You scoffed—the audacity. Burying the voice in your head telling you he was right and the other screaming at you to scramble to the ground to pick up the bills, you pushed past him. Bumping into his shoulder purposefully, you spat, “Spare me the shabby moral.”

He followed you, hands in his pockets with a widening predatory smile, fingers twitching with excitement as he felt himself get under your skin. “Isn’t moral what led you to help that man in the subway?”

Your feet came to an abrupt stop. You spun, facing him with that same venom in your eyes and in your words—the one he loved to taste and ear. The one he knew was intoxicating your veins, numbing your mind with irrationality. “No. Slapping the living lights out of your mind was the main motivation, actually, Mister. See, I love to see your kind of people, who hate my kind of people, choke in their own egos. Wouldn’t have missed the opportunity.”

“Really?” he cocked his head to the side, a hungry smirk adorning his lips. “No interest in morals or money…? Then how would you explain why you keep glancing behind me, Mrs. Y/N?”

Caught red-handed, the anger that had slipped in your body rushed straight to your brain, drowning every single thought. You swore at him, storming off, pushing the dollar bills out of your mind. You knew he was right behind your heels, but you didn’t care—trying to calm yourself down, gather your thoughts, escape the trap you could feel tightening around you. Yet every time you quickened or slowed your pace, he was following you—a devil on your shoulder, luring you into his games. I understand, life is hard, he’d say. Repeating how much it’s hard to earn enough nowadays. For a moment, you foolishly thought you’d just have to ignore him until he gave up, but-

“And your father’s birthday coming up too. What a shame that you cannot buy him that watch he wanted so-“

The last thread finally snapped – you violently pushed him against a wall, your forearm pressed against his chest. The storm in your eyes sent arrows of thunder. If looks could kill, the Salesman would be burning in hell. Yet now, he was burning in another way—burning from the proximity, from the rage radiating off you, from the thrill of being your undoing.

“Quite a nice watch, really,” he kept going, a mask of professionalism covering his satisfaction as he easily got out of your handle, letting his fingers linger on your skin. “I would know.”

The Salesman smirked as he saw your gaze search at his wrists, finally landing on the gift you had been ogling at for the past week—the watch your father had been wanting for years. The one you couldn’t afford right now. Your heart tightened, your head spun, and a wave of sadness washed over you. Every single fiber of your being wanted to offer your family a better life, fix your mistakes and fulfil from their smallest to biggest dreams – yet you hadn’t been able to gather enough money to buy that one little thing.

His pulse quickened, chest heaving rapidly as he watched something unfold in your gaze—here. He had you; you were right here, in the middle of his claws. He just had to close his hand.

“Let’s play a game,” he said, his voice smooth, almost tender—a dangerous veneer for the predator beneath. “It can be yours. No catch.”

She tightened her jaw, conflicted, her emotions now exposed in an open book he could read with his eyes closed. “I don’t trust you.”

His smile widened, a flicker of something sharp in his eyes. He leaned in. “You don’t need to trust me, Mrs Y/n. Put your trust in yourself, and in your…” his fingers revealed a card. Not his business card—a Queen of Hearts. Using the edge of it, he pushed a strand of hair out of your face, the caress sending a chill down your spine. “Abilities.”

He knew. You grated your teeth. Of course he knew. You hated his tone, the smug certainty that he had you figured out—that he knew your darkest, most shameful secret. The watch disappeared from your mind, intoxicated by the challenge—his unbearable condescension. Still, you masked your growing anger. “I don’t gamble anymore,” you said flatly.

“Oh, that’s right,” he said, feigning a look of realization. “Your little promise. Family bailed you out, didn’t they? Noble of them. But if you won this, imagine how proud they’d be—erasing the weight of their sacrifice. Especially your father... how old is he?”

Her jaw tightened. He was prying, and you’d let him get too close. Your father’s face popped up in your mind—his kind but tired eyes. The promise he made you swore—that you’d never, ever touch a deck of cards again. That’d you step far away from that dark hole you had once fallen, and he had one pulled you from, and never look back.

The choice should have been easy—your parents had told you countless times. If you have problems, we can figure it out together. But for once, you wanted to be the one to solve your own issues.

“One game.”

His eyes darkened with something lustful, hungry, obsessive—and your stomach tied itself into knots. Deep down, a part of you wondered—were you doing this for the watch, or for the pride of proving the man wrong? You could see it in his confidence, in his arrogance—he thought you a fool. A prey. There was a thrill to being the object of all his attention—but an even greater adrenaline at making him pay for it.

You didn’t feel fear when he led you to a shabby yet clean apartment—that so happened to be located in your neighbourhood. Snapping him a glare, he simply smirked, like he knew the effect he had on you. The room was suffocating. It wasn’t the space—shabby yet sterile—but the energy in it. A predator and his prey, locked in a game. Your heart stuttered when his hand grazed your lower back to guide you to the chair. He’s a psycho. He’s a pyscho. He’s a psycho. That was what you kept repeating yourself as he prepared the game, setting up the both of you, until he slid a deck of cards onto the table, a challenging brow raised at you.

When he removed his jacket, displaying the white shirt tightening around his muscular body, your mind raced with forbidden thoughts. Clearing your throat in an attempt to clear your mind, you sat straighter, resting your elbow in a daring position. “So. What do I get when win?”

“Isn’t the watch enough?” he cocked his head to the side, sly eyes traveling over your face. “I thought money didn’t motivate you.”

“How well you know me,” you replied sarcastically, leaning toward him more, the thrill of control intoxicating you. You weren’t blind—you knew how desperate he was to make you play. You’d use it to your advantage. “What can you offer me?”

“Anything,” his answer was immediate, cocky—like he genuinely thought his money made him all-mighty. “Your price is mine.”

“I want you to leave me alone.”

The silence stretched between you—you had to repress a smirk upon seeing his jaw clenched. Surely he was expecting a material answer—you had his weakness figured out. The Salesman couldn’t see past his own conceptions of poor people—ungracious, desperate, shameless. He was blind to the humanity of individuals, to the emotions, the bonds, the feelings—and could only think through money.

His gaze was heavier on you than the weight of the world you seemed to carry lately—it was an uncanny sensation, but you ignored it. Finally, his predatory smile returned, shattering the last remains of his polite businessman mask.

“Aren’t you going to ask what will happen if you lose?” the words curled around your ears, sounding so husky yet threatening.

“Don’t worry,” you said slowly, letting the words roll off your tongue. “I won’t lose.”

The cards moved in his hands like water, fluid and hypnotic. Each shuffle was seamless, effortless, as though the deck existed to obey him. You watched his hands closely, trying to decipher whether the grace of his movements was meant to distract you—or unsettle you.

He noticed. Of course, he noticed. His smirk widened, just slightly, and for a brief moment, his eyes flicked to yours before returning to the cards. That single glance made your chest tighten, though you refused to let it show. He was toying with you already, probing for cracks in your armor.

 The air in the room was thick, and not just because it was small. There was something oppressive about the way he sat there, utterly confident, completely in control, as if you were merely an accessory to his performance. He dealt the cards, each one landing on the table with a soft slap.

“You know,” he said casually, his tone like silk over a blade, “this doesn’t have to be painful. Unless, of course, you like it that way.”

You stiffened, your grip on the cards tightening. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, waiting for a reaction. When you gave him none, he chuckled softly and picked up his hand, finally deigning to look at the cards he'd dealt himself.

You did the same, careful to keep your expression neutral as you surveyed your cards. Not a terrible hand, but not an easy victory either. You were acutely aware of his eyes on you as you decided your next move, his presence a constant, gnawing pressure.

You refused to look at his face, though you felt his gaze like a physical weight. It was heavy, deliberate, crawling over you in a way that made your skin prickle. Your pulse thudded in your ears, but you kept your expression calm, masking the slight tremor in your fingers as you adjusted your cards.

“You’re nervous,” the Salesman said suddenly, his voice low and smooth, like the stroke of velvet over steel.

It wasn’t a question.

You didn’t look up. “Wishful thinking,” you shot back, keeping your tone steady, clipped.

A soft chuckle escaped him, and you could practically feel his amusement, sharp and cutting. He leaned forward slightly, the movement subtle but predatory, like a wolf testing the strength of its prey.

“Are you always this bad at bluffing?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “I thought you were a pro.”

You finally met his gaze, forcing yourself not to flinch at the intensity in his eyes. “Are you always this desperate to win?”

For a moment, his smirk faltered, just a flicker of something colder beneath the surface. But then it was back, sharper than ever. He leaned back in his chair, a picture of casual arrogance, and gestured lazily to the cards in your hand.

“Go on, then. Prove me wrong.”

The first hand played out in agonizing silence, every card placed on the table another move in a battle neither of you was willing to lose. When the cards were revealed, the sting of defeat was sharp and immediate. His smirk deepened as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Hmm,” he mused, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Guess I was right after all.”

Your throat tightened, heat rising to your cheeks. He was baiting you, daring you to snap.

His smirk widened as he leaned back, his posture triumphant. He leaned back in his chair, his arms resting lazily on the sides as though he had already won everything

 Your face remained stoic, but inside, your pulse hammered. Yet you had a card he didn’t suspect in your game—an idea that spurred from the dirtiest corner of your mind. If the Salesman could set trap for you, so could you. Nodding as if you were accepting your defeat, you reached for the thin scarf around your neck, slipping it off casually, your movements as indifferent as you could muster.

He didn’t even glance at it—too eager to catch any expression of your frustration.

“Your turn,” he teased, but his eyes betrayed something darker, a simmering hunger. He wanted to see you crumble.

His confidence was maddening, his smirk infuriating, but you knew that arrogance could be a weakness.

This time, you studied him. The way he held his cards, the way his eyes flickered just slightly when the stakes were raised. You caught the faintest twitch in his jaw when he realized you weren’t folding, and it spurred you on. You could feel it sip back in your veins—the intoxicating feeling that made you fall down the rabbit hole before. Not only that, but you couldn’t even pretend to ignore it—you were chasing the high.

He noticed you watching, of course. He always noticed.

“You’re trying to read me,” he said after a moment, his voice soft and mocking. “Cute.”

“I don’t need to read you,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended. “You’re already predictable.”

His smirk froze for the briefest moment before it sharpened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Careful,” he said softly, the warning in his voice unmistakable.

The game continued, every move stretching the tension between you to its breaking point. When the cards were revealed, your stomach twisted in relief. You’d won.

The smirk slipped from his face, replaced by something tighter, more calculating.

“Well, well,” you said, leaning forward, your tone laced with mockery. “What are you going to remove?”

His eyes narrowed, the lasting silence betraying his confusion. There was a tension in his posture now, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before.

“Tsk tsk tsk, how disappointing,” you shook your head in a mocking pout. “Didn’t do your research very thoroughly, did you?”

Like a fish caught in a hook, he was hanging to your lips – hiding the delicious hard pounding of his heart against his chest at seeing you this way, so like him yet so foolishly pretentious.

“My specialty was,” you taunted, your smile sharp. “Strip poker.”

For the first time, his mask cracked. A flicker of something—annoyance, maybe even surprise—crossed his face. You saw your opening and took it. His gaze was burning on you now, like your words had unleashed a monster. His laugh was low, almost inaudible. “Is that so?”

How thrilling it was to have him look at you that way—impressed, somehow, but so much more lustful than ever. “Try to keep up,” you chirped, daring him with your gaze.

Yet he didn’t falter. Slowly, deliberately, he removed his tie, skillful, big fingers easily untying the knot. Folding it with precision before setting it aside.

“You must think highly of yourself to think you can distract me that way, Mrs. Y/n,” his voice was a rumble, his gaze unwavering, not blinking once. If you didn’t know how much of a psychopath he was, you’d say he was already plenty distracted by the prospect.

You scoffed. “I think lowly of you, Mister. Maybe being exposed by someone you look down on will be enough for you to choke on your own ego.”

He smirked. What an arrogant piece of shit, you thought as his eyes fell down the length of your body, telling you more than any word could.

“Likewise.”

When he threw the next cards, the air was heavier than ever. The game became something else—less about cards and more about dominance. The stakes climbed higher with every hand, the tension between you thickening like a storm cloud.

You could feel his frustration building, masked by that infuriating smile. He was losing ground, and he hated it. You even thought he’d snap when he finally won, but all you removed was a necklace—he was hungrier than he ever was. But he was clever, too clever, and every move he made was designed to throw you off balance.

“You’re enjoying this,” he said, his voice soft, almost seductive.

“You’re not?”

His gaze burned into you, his pupils dark, predatory. “Oh, I am. But I wonder—are you playing to win, or just to spite me?”

You didn’t answer, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

The next round dragged on, every move stretching the silence between you like a taut wire. Your pulse was a drumbeat in your ears, but you kept your face calm, your movements steady. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, his eyes dissecting every twitch, every breath.

“Looks like your luck’s run out,” you said, your voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

He didn’t respond immediately; his eyes locked on the cards in front of him. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned back in his chair, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves. The motion was slow, deliberate, his forearms flexing as the fabric slid back.

Your eyes flickered downward for half a second before snapping back to his face, but he caught it. His smirk returned, sharper than ever.

“Staring is quite impolite, Mrs. Y/N.”

“Please,” you said, forcing your voice to remain steady. “Try to blink at least once before you say this.”

His eyes darkened, the heat in his gaze unmistakable now. For a moment, the game, the cards, everything else fell away, leaving only the tension between you—dangerous, electric, and impossible to ignore.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“So are you,” you replied, your words as much a challenge as they were a warning.

Maybe you had underestimated him—you thought his superiority complex would prevent him from completing the game. Yet somehow it didn’t feel like the humiliation you had planned for him—instead, it felt like something quieter, hungrier, forbidden, but excruciatingly thrilling. When you removed your top, heart pounding in your chest, and locked eyes with him, you were suddenly grateful for the games you were playing. The rules seemed the only thing that kept the Salesman from ripping every last piece of clothing from you.

His gaze was fire, slow-burning, consuming. You had stripped the moment of control from him, yet somehow, the shift in power only seemed to excite him. His smirk remained, but there was something new behind it now—something sharper, darker.

The room felt smaller. The weight of the moment pressed against your skin, against the pulse hammering in your throat. He watched you with an intensity that made your breath catch, his head

The cards sat untouched between you, but the game had moved beyond them. This was about leverage now, about control that shifted like sand between your fingers.

You didn’t flinch as he reached forward, picking up his glass and taking a slow sip, his gaze never leaving yours. He was stretching the silence, making you sit in it, daring you to break first.

You wouldn’t.

Leaning forward, you rested your elbows on the table, mirroring his stance. "Your move," you reminded him, your voice smooth, unshaken.

His smirk deepened, a predator recognizing another.

Instead of speaking, he picked up the deck, shuffled it with that same fluid grace, the sound of the cards brushing against each other whispering between you. His hands were precise, controlled, but you saw it now—the slight flex of his fingers, the subtle way his jaw tensed. He was enjoying this, the push and pull of it, but he wasn’t unaffected.

Good.

He dealt again. The cards landed neatly, but your attention remained on him. Every twitch, every breath, every flicker in his expression—it was all part of the game now.

As you picked up your hand, his voice broke the silence. "Tell me, Mrs. Y/N," he mused, rolling the words slowly, deliberately. "What happens when you finally meet someone who plays better than you?"

Your lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "I'll let you know when it happens."

Something flickered in his eyes. Approval? Amusement? Whatever it was, it sent a thrill down your spine.

The game continued; the stakes unspoken yet palpable. Every card turned was another thread pulled tighter between you. He was pushing, pressing, waiting for the moment you would falter.

But you weren’t just playing to win anymore.

You were playing to break him.

And the best part?

You could see the exact moment he realized it.

You straightened, meeting his gaze one last time. “Game over.”

The storm brewing in his eyes made a chill ran down your spine. There, you had him. Of course, he hated losing. You knew he was seconds away from snapping—the mighty defeated by the lowly. The silence stretched. The only sign of his rage was the twitch of his hand on his naked thigh.

You expected him to explode—waited for him to lash out, to yell, to freak out. Instead, he got up slowly, exposing his glorious body to your eyes. Your throat dried. He slowly walked up to you, the same confidence he had as always, like despite his nakedness he was still superior to you. How you hated this disdainful, scornful man that made your life a living hell for the past weeks—and your treacherous body should remember it too, instead of shivering in anticipation. His warmth surrounded you, but it felt cold, dreadful, yet so enticing.

His fingers trailed up your collarbone, softly, before he roughly grabbed your jaw, swiping his tongue across your lips. Your mind was dizzy, clouded with desire—that you shouldn’t even allow to take over each parcel of your body. Your breath was shallow, heart pounding against your ribs. His fingers dug into your jaw, his breath warm against your lips, teasing, daring. His touch was rough and possessive, but there was restraint beneath it—like he was waiting for you to yield.

But he had already lost. There was something hungrier than desire in your core – ego. You had crushed the man who thought you insignificant. You couldn’t give in to the shallow lust.

You tilted your chin up, feigning surrender, letting him believe he had you right where he wanted. His smirk deepened, satisfaction flickering in his storm-dark eyes.

And then—

"Winner’s prize. Leave. Me. Alone."

Your voice was soft, almost tender, but the words struck like a whip. His grip faltered for just a fraction of a second, confusion flickering across his face. It was enough.

You slipped out of his grasp, smooth, effortless, and stood. The air between you crackled; his gaze bore into you, sharp, predatory, but you didn’t flinch. The sleek, expensive watch he had stripped from his wrist in his arrogance, certain he wouldn’t lose, was on the table—you snatched it.

In less than a second, you had disappeared from his claws - you didn’t run. You didn’t look back. You simply walked away, your pulse thrumming with exhilaration.

And in the days that followed, you heard nothing.

No calls. No texts. No messages sent through mutual acquaintances.

You had won his game. And he couldn’t go against his own rule. This sick, twisted, obsessive bastard was played. At first, you felt relief. This was it—the moment he realized you weren’t like the others – and he was wrong about all of you. That he couldn’t toy with you, that he couldn’t break you. You told yourself he was too humiliated to come back from this, that he would move on, find someone else to play his twisted games with.

And yet… something gnawed at you. A quiet unease, an instinct whispering that this wasn’t over.

But days passed. Then a week. Then two.

Maybe you really had won.

It was like the game had never happened—except you had gotten a taste of your old addiction, and you could feel the drug take its effect. The way the cards felt between your fingers, the sharp thrill of reading his every move, of pulling him in just to cut him down. You told yourself it was just the rush of winning. That you had beaten him, humiliated him, and that was why it lingered.

But then you started playing again.

At first, it was just one game. A harmless distraction. Then another. Then another. The old hunger stirred deep in your veins, that pulse of anticipation as the stakes climbed higher and higher.

Ironically, you had won enough to buy the watch on your own – which you did.

But you were foolish. Naïve. You didn’t realize until your father’s birthday.

The restaurant was warm with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of conversation. You let yourself relax, let the normalcy of the evening wash over you. Being with your family soothed your worries and warmed your heart. Perhaps because you craved their love so much, you didn’t notice the veil of concern in their eyes.

But you knew something was wrong when your father’s smile faltered when he opened his gift, making your heart break in half. You thought you imagined it, but your mother’s frown and the awkward moment of silence before cheers erupted made you uneasy.

“Dad,” you lead your father to a quieter room in the family house, worry on your face. “What’s wrong?”

His lips tightened, a conflicted expression on his face. “Y/n, how could you afford this?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Um, I got a promotion.”

Your dad shook his head, pulling you into a tight hug, desperate hands crawling at your back, holding onto you.

“Stop before it is too late, Y/n. Your mother and I- we can’t lose you again.”

No. No, no, no- there was no way they could have known. The burn of shame tore your insides apart, and suddenly nothing made sense—why you’d let herself go down the rabbit hole again.

Tears were starting to cloud your vision, and as you were about to respond, your words died in your throat.

You saw it.

Sitting innocuously on the table beside your father’s gift boxes. A small black card.

A rectangle of shadow against golden linen.

You knew it before you even touched it.

Heart pounding, you slipped from your father’s hold, his voice far away in another world- and you reached out, fingers brushing over the familiar gold-embossed symbol.

The squid game card.

Your stomach dropped. Your mouth went dry.

He had disappeared, yes.

But not because he had given up.

No.

He had only been waiting. And you had fallen right into his trap.

taglist: @callmeagardengnome @putrescentpoet

a/n: I know this sounds like a wattpad author lore but I’m actually moving to China in a couple days (which is why I have been so busy) and I don’t even know if tumblr works there guys so hold on a minute while I figure myself out there and while I bypass the firewall, but I AM writing a final part to this

[simply-ivanka]

Letitia James Turns the Screws on Trump

The inflated $464 million bond required to appeal effectively denies him due process.

By The Editorial Board

Wall Street Journal

March 18, 2024 

New York Attorney General Letitia James’s use of lawfare to take down Donald Trump is getting uglier by the day. She is now threatening to seize the former President’s assets after effectively denying him the ability to appeal the grossly inflated civil-fraud judgment against him.

Mr. Trump’s lawyers wrote Monday in a court filing that they’ve been unable to obtain a bond to guarantee last month’s $464 million judgment. Defendants are required to post bonds to appeal verdicts. Mr. Trump’s lawyers say securing the full bond would be “impossible” since most of his assets are illiquid.

One way to satisfy the bond would be to borrow against his real-estate holdings. But Mr. Trump’s lawyers say that only a handful of insurance companies have “both the financial capability and willingness to underwrite a bond of this magnitude,” and “the vast majority are unwilling to accept the risk associated with such a large bond.”

What’s more, his lawyers say that none of the insurers that Mr. Trump’s team approached “are willing to accept hard assets such as real estate as collateral for appeal bonds.” This isn’t surprising given the recent write-downs in commercial real estate and enormous uncertainty about their valuations, especially in places like New York. Insurers may also fear Ms. James’s legal retribution if they provide the bond to Mr. Trump.

Thus in order to appeal the judgment, Mr. Trump could have to unload property in a fire sale. If he were later to win on appeal, his lawyers rightly argue that he would have suffered an enormous, irreparable loss.

Ms. James no doubt knows she has Mr. Trump in a bind. She and courts have opposed his requests to reduce the bond even though a court-appointed independent monitor overseeing his businesses eliminates the risk he could dispose of or transfer his assets to make the judgment harder for the state to enforce.

As we wrote last month, the judgment is overkill. None of Mr. Trump’s business partners lost money lending to him or claimed to have been deceived by his erroneous financial statements. No witness during the trial said his alleged misrepresentations changed its loan terms or prices, and there was no evidence that he profited from his alleged deceptions.

Nonetheless, state trial judge Arthur Engoron ordered him to “disgorge” $355 million in “ill-gotten gains.” This sum was based on the interest-rate savings that a financial expert retained by Ms. James estimated Mr. Trump netted from his legerdemain. But this calculation seems dubious since banks said they didn’t alter their loan terms.

The judge also tacked on profits that Mr. Trump putatively made on properties for which he submitted false financial statements without demonstrating that the latter enable the former. He also added “pre-judgment interest” dating back to the day Ms. James launched her investigation in 2019. This makes Mr. Trump liable for alleged wrongdoings before he was even charged. All of this provides plausible grounds for appeal.

Whatever his transgressions, defendants are entitled to due process, which includes the right to appeal. Ms. James is trying to short-circuit the justice system to get Mr. Trump, as she promised she would during her 2018 campaign. Anyone who does business in New York ought to worry about how Ms. James could likewise twist the screws on them.

[not-goldy]

Writing it down goes to show he wasn't actually trusting and that man isn't as close. I bet JM wouldn't write down if he gave money to a close friend. The members have said JM is the one who always gives expensive gifts on their birthdays, so clearly he treats close friends differently and doesn't mind about money with them. Also Hsw who introduced Jm to that man then was also someone who lent his money to him and didn't get back.

So I don't know why they be introducing such ppl to JM. Not only are they not careful but they be introducing them to Jm too.

Like that everyone will approach his friends to reach him.

But again, JM let it go. So I don't know, maybe he's not bothered as we are, about the money.

Writing it down has nothing to do with trust but rather a smart financial move and legal decision. When it comes to money, legally you either gift it or loan it and as i explained earlier in law writing something down is of little legal importance unless the law has specifically said a transaction ought to be in writing to be enforceable.

So I repeat writing things down has nothing to do with trust- before someone uses that to manipulate their loved ones into giving them monies they know damn well they will not pay. Oh you making me sign a contract you don't trust me boo boo baa baa. Do you see how harmful such a narrative you are peddling is?

I get that we are all sharing our thoughts on this but try not to spread legal misinformation or fill people's heads with beliefs and ideas that will only further harm them financially. Situations like this have practical legal implications for people in all walks of life so let's be careful.

when it comes to money it's always wise not to mix business with pleasure or in this case with friendships as you seem to be suggesting JM would have done with his close friends. Always draw out that paper regardless of whether it is your mama or not.

I think Jungkook got that paper work done even with his brother and their business which is a very smart thing to do.

You don't need to stretch this or down play what has happened to that man. He was financially abused in spite of whether it was by a close friend or acquittance whether he trusted them or didn't trust them as clearly having the terms written on paper didn't prevent that from happening.

However, since he has this in writing it prevents the person from manipulating the narrative or claiming JM only gave it to him as a gift or merely to support him due to whatever situation he claimed he was going through.

Which is very smart and something every obe should learn from.

Well I think he was bothered but like everything else he stayed strong. That money could have gone to his charities or be put to a good use.

And being a victim of financial deception can give a person trust issues. This is stealing. He's been robbed in day light and I bet it's gonna traumatize him. Poor dude.

His friends are shitty for introducing him to this cuckpit you'd think they'd know better since they are older

And JM should have said no. If he needed money he should have went to the bank. Fucking dammit

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Lending surge powers Brazil’s economy, but outlook darkens for 2025

Banks’ strong lending fuels growth now, though economists warn of an imminent slowdown

Brazil’s credit market has broken away from other financial indicators in 2024, injecting a notable lift into economic activity. However, with the rapid deterioration of key factors such as exchange and interest rates, economists cautioned that this boost is unlikely to persist into 2025—a development they believe will contribute to the anticipated economic slowdown next year.

A recent study by Santander indicated that the country’s credit impulse stands at around 4% of GDP. Calculated as the difference between new loan disbursements and repayments (principal plus interest) over 12 months, the indicator shows how much money is flowing from the financial system into the real economy. “It’s essentially how much the financial system was driving the economy,” said Henrique Danyi, an economist at Santander and the report’s author.

Using a methodology unveiled by the Central Bank in 2021—together with Santander’s estimates for credit payment data—the study presented two ways to gauge credit impulse: a “top-down” analysis for major segments (personal and business, earmarked and non-earmarked) and a “bottom-up” breakdown looking at each available lending category, such as revolving credit and vehicle loans.

“In the ‘top-down’ approach, credit impulse reached historic highs in our estimates going back to 2012,” Mr. Danyi noted. “Using the ‘bottom-up’ methodology, it still trailed levels seen at the end of 2017 and early 2018,” he added.

Continue reading.

[debtservicecoverageratio]

DATASETS IN FINTECH STARTUP WORLD

Here are some real-world examples of fintech companies using datasets to improve their services:

1. Personalized Financial Planning:

Mint: Mint aggregates financial data from various sources like bank accounts, credit cards, and investments to provide users with a holistic view of their finances. It then uses this data to offer personalized budgets, track spending habits, and suggest ways to save money.

Personal Capital: Similar to Mint, Personal Capital analyzes user data to provide personalized financial advice, including investment recommendations and retirement planning.

2. Credit Scoring and Lending:

Upstart: Upstart uses alternative data sources like education and employment history, in addition to traditional credit scores, to assess creditworthiness and provide loans to individuals who may be overlooked by traditional lenders. This expands access to credit and often results in fairer lending practices.

Kiva: Kiva uses a dataset of loan applications and repayment history to assess the risk of lending to individuals in developing countries. This data-driven approach allows them to provide microloans to entrepreneurs who lack access to traditional banking systems.

3. Fraud Detection:

Stripe: Stripe uses machine learning algorithms to analyze transaction data and identify potentially fraudulent activity. This helps protect businesses from losses and ensures secure online payments.

Paypal: Paypal employs sophisticated fraud detection systems that analyze vast amounts of data to identify and prevent unauthorized transactions, protecting both buyers and sellers.

4. Investment Platforms:

Robinhood: Robinhood uses data to provide users with insights into stock performance, market trends, and personalized investment recommendations. This makes investing more accessible and helps users make informed decisions.

Betterment: Betterment uses algorithms and data analysis to create diversified investment portfolios tailored to individual risk tolerance and financial goals. This automated approach simplifies investing and helps users achieve their long-term financial objectives.

These are just a few examples of how fintech companies leverage datasets to improve their services and provide better value to their customers.

[pmegploan]

Best PMEGP loan : Government Support for Starting Your Own Business.

At sharda Associates The Prime Minister's Employment Generation Programme (PMEGP) is a government scheme in India that gives financial help to individuals who want to create small companies. It aims to create jobs and encourage self-employment, particularly in rural and semi-urban areas. Here's a simplified view of the scheme

What is PMEGP?

PMEGP Loan provides financial assistance to people starting new small enterprises by offering a loan with a subsidy. The Ministry of Micro, Small, and Medium Enterprises (MSME) manages it, while the Khadi and Village Industries Commission (KVIC) oversees its implementation.

Key Features:

1 Loan Amount

Manufacturing enterprises might receive up to ₹25 lakh.

Service enterprises, such as beauty salons or repair shops, can receive up to ₹10 lakh.

2 Government subsidy:

Rural areas:

25% of general category applications.

35% for special categories (such as SC/ST, women, and those from the Northeast).

Urban areas

15% for general category applications.

Special categories are eligible for 25% off.

Who can apply?

1 Eligibility:

Any Indian citizen above the age of 18.

Applicants for projects costing more than ₹10 lakh (manufacturing) or ₹5 lakh (services) must have finished 8th grade.

Self-help groups (SHGs), cooperative organizations, and charitable trusts can all apply.

2 Personal Investments:

General candidates must invest 10% of the project cost themselves.

Special category applicants must invest only 5%.

How do I apply?

1 Application Process:\

Apply online using the PMEGP portal at Official kvic Main.

Upload documents such as ID, address verification, educational certificates, and a business plan.

2 Selection and Loan approval:

A District-Level Task Force Committee will contact you to schedule an interview.

Once approved, the bank sanctions the loan and credits the government subsidy to your loan account.

3 Repayment:

The loan must be repaid within 3-7 years, however the subsidy does not have to be paid back.

4 Training:

All PMEGP grantees are required to complete a brief company management training program.

Example of How PMEGP Loans Work

Suppose you wish to start a small manufacturing plant in a rural region for ₹20 lakh.

For those in the general category, the government will provide a 25% subsidy, amounting to ₹5 lakh.

The bank offers a loan of ₹15 lakh, and you simply need to invest ₹2 lakh from your savings.

Why is PMEGP beneficial?

project report for PMEGP loan assists people in starting enterprises without the requirement for a large initial investment. This loan is ideal for young enterprises as it requires no collateral (up to ₹10 lakh) and offers long payback terms.

Summary

The PMEGP initiative is a useful approach to start a small business with government assistance, particularly if you come from a rural or underprivileged background. It encourages employment generation and economic development. For additional information, please visit the official PMEGP website or contact your nearest KVIC office.

PMEGP: Helping You Start Your Own Business with Government Support. For details and to reach us, visit https://shardaassociates.in/ contact us : 91 79870 21896 , address : HIG B-59, Sector A, Vidya Nagar, Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh 462026

[zeuscommercial]

Choosing the Right Commercial Real Estate Financing: Why the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan Stands Out?

Securing the right financing option for commercial real estate could be a significant aspect for business owners. Expanding your business, acquiring a new property, or investing in other assets are all processes that would warrant taking out a loan, and knowing which type of loan to take is important to ensure favorable terms and rates are secured. Of all the different loan products available, many small business owners are keen on the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan. In this blog, we will see the reasons why the SBA 504 loan is worth your consideration when it comes to commercial real estate financing.

Understanding commercial real estate financing

Commercial real estate financing refers to the funding used for buying, improving, or refinancing any income-generating asset such as an office, retail, or industrial building. Business people looking for such funding can consider several sources, such as bank loans, commercial mortgages, and government loans. All these options present their own pros and cons, making it important to select one that fits the needs of one's business.

What Is a 504 Real Estate Loan?

 In finance, it is a long-term, fixed-rate loan aimed at small businesses for purchasing capital assets, for example, real estate or expensive machinery. The difference between an SBA 504 real estate loan and an ordinary commercial loan is that the former is a tri-partite agreement between the lender, a CDC (Certified Development Company), and the borrower. Here is how it works:

1. The lender advances 50% of the project costs.

2. A non-profit counterpart, the CDC, takes 40% of that.

3. The last 10% is taken up by the borrower.

This risk-sharing approach helps in giving better terms to the small business owners, making them less risky for the lenders.

Advantages of the SBA 504 Loan for Real Estate Financing

Following are the reasons making the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan an ideal option for most people in need of commercial real estate financing:

Lower Deposit Requirement- In factor analysis, the low deposit perceived as one of the primary working capital loan merits, as in a few cases starting from 10% only required. This is advantageous to most small enterprises that want to safeguard their liquidity. Unlike commercial loans that may have more expensive down payments, the SBA 504 loan enables businesses to keep a greater portion of their funds available for other purposes.

Locked-in Interest Rates-The SBA 504 loan has locked in interest rates, which implies that the interest rate will be charged at the same rate for the duration of the loan. This provides an element of certainty that is often not present owing to the unique nature of other commercial real estate financing. This makes it easily possible to plan and budget for such activities.

Amortization Schedule- The repayment period of the SBA 504 loan is also quite long, often extending to a full 25 years on the purchase of real estate. This helps to lower the level of monthly payments; hence, it’s easier for small businesses to repay their debts. Greater repayment terms are a big plus in comparison with several direct commercial financing institutions whose repayment periods tend to be shorter.

Enabler for Investment Spending- Where a business has the need to make an investment, such as a purchase of a bigger office, a warehouse, or buying machinery, the SBA 504 loan comes in handy. It is a perfect match for advancing companies that are in serious need of buying new properties.

Why Choose Zeus Commercial Capital?

Finding the right financing can be hard, and that’s where Zeus Commercial Capital stands out. We form and manage portfolios of debt to minimize cost while enabling the financing of all commercial real estate loans. You can rely on us for professional assistance and successful realization of your plans and goals in regard to SBA 504 real estate loans.

Final Thoughts

The importance of selecting the most appropriate commercial real estate financing for the advancement and achievement of your business cannot be overstated. The majority of small businesses can opt for the SBA 504 Real Estate Loan since it has comparatively low equity requirements, fixed government rates, as well as more extended payback periods. For those seeking professional assistance with understanding the most appropriate financing options for their business, Zeus Commercial Capital is available. We will help you with relevant guidance and find the most suitable solution.

[orchdaries]

(  bts' min yoongi/suga ,  cismale , he/him  )    : ̗̀➛   thirty-two years young , a non-bender from the noble house of seok . many know them to be pragmatic & self-interested . how unfortunate , truly … i’ve always found them to be dedicated & perceptive . they oft fulfill the duties of minister of finance . oh , i should tell you — they are impartial to the rule of house yi . well , you know how every storyteller bends the tale they tell .   ✶   sky , 21+ , she/they  .

and here i am once again but this time with lord seok taesung! he's the oldest child of house seok and a non-bender! was a little conscious over his non bending status for a while when growing up because it was a issue for more people than it should matter to that he was the oldest child of a great house and a non-bender (even went to the battlefield for a while to prove himself). now he works as the minister of finance, which means he oversees the nation's bank and that's how he firmed himself as the next head of house seok (as of right now anyway)! as usual more info under the cut + plot ideas!

seok taesung. non-bender & minister of finance. had some issues during his younger years about being a non-bender but now he honestly doesn't care for it, even more so when it doesn't make a difference in his field whether or not he bends fire.

has always had a good instinct for business + put a lot of work on his studies of finances and business administration/management and was known as touch of gold even as late teenager because every business that he touched/managed turned into a huge success. his parents not really cutting him any slack since he needed to prove he was someone competent to "make up" for his lack of bending skills.

has had a dozen and a half business in a variety of areas but delegated or sold them to thirty parties at some point or another to pursue something else, or even because he got too busy to manage them properly; yet he still offers advice (that ofc comes with a 💰) for some of them and and collects money from others as a minor partner/trustee sort of thing.

developed a little of a inferiority complex for a while because of his non bender status— even got himself in the military a little later than most people do but still moved up ranks considerably fast because he's the type to make sure he'll excel in whatever he puts himself to do. he never bribed any officials/superiors but can't deny nor confirm whether the weight of his house, even if they aren't a military family, influenced the decision of his promotions.

but then after [redacted] incident that got him the scar he carries over his left eye, he was put into more administrative duties and not long after that he was picked as the new minister of finance.

is good at combat, especially with a sword, and is more than capable of defending himself but he doesn't particularly enjoys it.

even though he does carry the characteristic charisma that his family is known for, he still can be quite intimidating to approach at first glance because of his rbf always serious expression; he does soften it up a little when someone talks to him though.

has a very uptight posture regarding his work/business which could also explain why people are a little intimidated around him (even more so if they worked or still work together), but is much more carefree during his scarce free time and when it's topics non related to work.

isn't really against any unofficial loan system but he always makes sure to not let mix it with his governmental duties and those are usually done under house seok's name and/or with his private earnings.

very pragmatic and practical to the point that he might sound cold/cruel sometimes? even if he's still very level-headed and there are lot of reasonable/rational arguments to the decisions that he makes, they should still be taken with a grant of salt sometimes, even more so when the only interest that he puts above his own are his business/his house and only because his interests are always for the best for his business/his house.

that's why he doesn't hold very strong feelings over house yi even as a part of the government. as long as they're useful for his house then he doesn't mind them sort of thing. he won't tolerate slander of the royal family but he won't vehemently defend them to his last breath either.

can be pretty detached to the people around him that he doesn't think are useful to him or caught his attention in some way because, for better or worse, he sees the world as a big business and if he doesn't see anything worth of his attention on you then he won't care for you past minimal cordiality.

still can be pretty intense with the people he actually takes a liking to? sort of will die and kill, set the nation on fire for them sort of thing. is extremely loyal to his family and is willing to sacrifice a lot if not everything for them, but is still a little awkward in showing affection.

like the type of person who will willingly lit go through hell and live in it for the rest of their days if that means that the people he loves will be happy.

wanted connections

childhood/teenage friends ! considering he's from house seok, i imagine that he had a lot of playdates when younger that could've developed into genuine friendship or they might've drifted apart at some point or another and are trying to reconnect now. someone rivals from back then could be fun too! they being annoyed that even as a non-bender taesung was good at pretty much everything and he found the way you got riled up for (in his opinion) nothing very entertaining.

arranged engagement ! he's a little over 30 y/o and the oldest child of a great noble house so i can see that he already has something arranged or maybe this is a little deal with him and someone so their parents/family will leave them alone because honestly taesung isn't very interested in romance at the moment and unless the ✨right person✨ shows up (either someone he holds affection for or because house seok would really benefit from their union), i don't see him ever being interested in it help KSDHJKJ

military camaraderie ! someone that was the same unit as him in the military and they became close! or even a subordinate that for some reason thinks fondly of him??? or subordinate that doesn't think so fondly of him??? maybe someone that didn't exactly get along with him at first but through hardships they warmed up to each other and became besties.

blurred lines ! someone that he gets along really really well. i'd say they're best friends (the platonic part being questionable at best), bordering on soulmates and their feelings for each other are a little ambiguous, even more so when they don't mind warming each other's bed from time to time.

(possible) business partners ! someone he worked with or offered advice to and he does think positively of them or even someone who wants to work with him or wants his advice but it's obvious he isn't willing to do neither so they try their best to convince him to do so?

a debt is a debt ! taesung takes debts (monetary or otherwise) very seriously and that's why he absolutely hates owing people and lowkey relishes when they owe him instead. maybe someone whom he owes a favor to and they hold it over his head more often than he would like because obviously they'll milk this as much as they can, or someone who owes him a favor and he has yet to find the best moment to cash it in which could be a little nervewrecking, i suppose?

again!! always open for brainstorming if nothing of this works out with your muse!!

[10xsalestraining]

Top Sales Strategies for Banking Professionals

In the highly competitive world of banking, sales professionals need to go beyond basic customer service. They must master the art of selling a variety of financial products—from loans and credit cards to investment opportunities and wealth management services. For banking professionals, having a well-rounded skill set and using proven sales strategies can be the key to boosting performance, meeting targets, and building lasting customer relationships.

Sales strategies for banking professionals differ from other industries because financial services are complex, often involve long-term commitments, and require a high level of trust. Therefore, a specialized approach is necessary to be successful in this field. In this blog, we’ll dive into the top sales strategies for banking professionals and how a well-structured sales training program for banking can elevate your performance and help you reach your sales goals.

1. Understand Your Customer's Financial Goals

One of the most important aspects of banking sales is understanding the financial goals and needs of your customers. Banking is a trust-based business, and clients expect their financial service providers to offer personalized solutions rather than a cookie-cutter approach. To succeed in selling financial products, you need to know what matters most to your customers.

Are they looking to invest in their future, save for a large purchase, or secure a loan for a business venture? The more information you gather about their financial goals, the better you can tailor your sales pitch to offer products that align with their needs.

How to Apply This Strategy:

Ask questions: During your initial interactions, ask open-ended questions that allow customers to share their financial aspirations. This will help you identify the most relevant products.

Active listening: Make sure you listen closely to their responses so you can offer products that truly fit their situation.

Personalization: Use the information you gather to tailor your recommendations to their unique financial situation. Personalization builds trust and makes your pitch more compelling.

2. Build Trust and Long-Term Relationships

Trust is the foundation of banking. Clients need to know they can rely on you for their financial well-being, and they often prefer to work with someone they have a strong relationship with. Building trust takes time, but it pays off in the long run, as clients who trust you are more likely to come back for repeat business and refer you to others.

Sales in banking are not transactional but relationship-based. This means that even if you don’t close the deal right away, building rapport and demonstrating your reliability can lead to sales in the future.

How to Apply This Strategy:

Transparency: Be open and honest about all the products, fees, and terms you’re offering. Clients value transparency and are more likely to trust you if they feel you’re being upfront.

Follow-up: Regularly check in with your clients, even when you’re not actively selling to them. This keeps the relationship warm and builds trust over time.

Deliver on promises: Always do what you say you will, whether it’s a follow-up call, more information, or simply checking in after they’ve purchased a product. Consistency builds credibility.

3. Leverage Cross-Selling and Upselling Opportunities

In the banking industry, many products are interrelated. For example, a customer who opens a checking account may also need a savings account or a credit card. Learning how to cross-sell (offering additional complementary products) and upsell (offering more premium products) can help you maximize the value of each client relationship.

Cross-selling and upselling should be done thoughtfully. It’s not about pushing more products—it’s about offering additional value to the customer. By genuinely identifying their needs, you can provide them with products that improve their financial situation.

How to Apply This Strategy:

Identify opportunities: During your conversations with clients, listen for cues that indicate they might need additional products or services. For example, if a client mentions saving for retirement, you might suggest a retirement savings plan or investment account.

Be strategic: Offer products that genuinely benefit the customer. Avoid overwhelming them with too many choices; instead, present the most relevant products based on their needs.

Educate your clients: Some clients may not be aware of all the products available to them. Educate them on the benefits of complementary products without pressuring them to make a decision on the spot.

4. Provide Exceptional Customer Service

Great customer service is essential in banking sales. Financial decisions are often complex, and customers want to feel supported throughout the process. Providing excellent customer service can differentiate you from your competitors and increase customer loyalty. A satisfied customer is more likely to recommend your services to friends and family, leading to additional sales opportunities.

Service doesn’t stop at the point of sale; it continues after the transaction is complete. Being proactive about following up and making sure customers are happy with their purchases can set you apart from others.

How to Apply This Strategy:

Be responsive: Answer inquiries promptly and provide thorough information when needed. Slow responses can cost you a sale.

Solve problems: When issues arise, be proactive about resolving them quickly and professionally. This shows that you care about your clients’ experience.

Stay connected: After completing a sale, follow up with clients to ensure they are satisfied and see if there are any other ways you can assist them.

5. Master Product Knowledge

As a banking professional, you need to have a deep understanding of the products and services you offer. Clients rely on you to guide them through complex financial decisions, and your expertise can make all the difference. Knowing your products inside and out allows you to confidently answer questions, provide recommendations, and present solutions that align with your clients’ financial goals.

When you have strong product knowledge, it also helps you feel more confident during sales conversations, which in turn makes your clients more comfortable and likely to trust your recommendations.

How to Apply This Strategy:

Stay updated: The financial industry is always evolving. Make it a priority to stay informed about new products, services, and regulations.

Know the competition: Understand how your bank’s products compare to competitors. This will help you highlight the unique benefits of what you’re offering.

Simplify explanations: Banking products can be complex. Break down the information in a way that’s easy for your clients to understand, using simple language and clear examples.

6. Utilize Digital Tools and Technology

The digital age has revolutionized how banking professionals can engage with clients and make sales. Using digital tools like CRM systems, email marketing, and even social media can help you manage client relationships more effectively and streamline your sales process. These tools can also provide valuable insights into client behavior and preferences, allowing you to personalize your sales approach even further.

Incorporating digital platforms into your sales strategy can also help you reach a wider audience and provide customers with convenient, online service options, making the sales process smoother and faster.

How to Apply This Strategy:

Use CRM tools: Customer Relationship Management (CRM) systems can help you keep track of client interactions, preferences, and important follow-up dates. This ensures that no lead or client slips through the cracks.

Embrace online banking services: Show clients how they can use digital banking services to manage their accounts, investments, or loans. This enhances their experience and keeps you relevant in the digital age.

Leverage data analytics: Use available data to gain insights into client behavior, helping you anticipate their needs and offer tailored solutions.

7. Enroll in a Sales Training Program for Banking Professionals

Finally, enrolling in a specialized sales training program for banking professionals can help you hone your skills, learn new strategies, and stay competitive in the ever-changing financial landscape. Sales training programs designed specifically for banking can provide valuable insights into client psychology, regulatory changes, and effective selling techniques for financial products.

A sales training program for banking can offer role-playing exercises, real-world case studies, and practical applications that help you improve your sales performance. Additionally, it can equip you with tools and knowledge that are directly applicable to the challenges you face as a banking professional.

How to Apply This Strategy:

Choose a specialized program: Look for a sales training program that focuses specifically on the financial services industry, as these programs will offer insights relevant to your field.

Stay committed to learning: Even if you’re already successful in sales, ongoing education is important. The financial world is constantly evolving, and continuing your training ensures you stay ahead of the curve.

Practice what you learn: After completing a training program, implement the new techniques you’ve learned in your day-to-day sales activities. Consistent practice will help you master these skills.

Conclusion

For banking professionals, having the right sales strategies in place is crucial to achieving success in a competitive industry. By understanding your customer’s needs, building trust, leveraging cross-selling opportunities, and continually improving your skills through sales training programs for banking you can enhance your sales performance and deliver exceptional results. Focus on personalizing your approach, mastering product knowledge, and using digital tools to stay ahead of the curve. By applying these top sales strategies, you’ll be well-equipped to navigate the dynamic world of banking sales.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

May 7, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

MAY 08, 2024

The past two days of former president Trump’s criminal trial for falsifying business records to hide a $130,000 payment to adult film actress Stephanie Clifford, also known as Stormy Daniels, to silence her before the 2016 election have been illuminating in different ways.

Yesterday, witnesses established that the paper trail of payments to Trump fixer Michael Cohen, who forwarded the money to Daniels, had been falsified. That paper trail included invoices, checks, and records. Witnesses also established that Trump micromanaged his finances, making it hard to believe he didn’t know about the scheme. 

That scheme looked like this: Former Trump Organization employee Jeffrey McConney said that Trump’s former financial chief Allen Weisselberg, who has gone to jail twice in two years for his participation in Trump’s financial schemes and is there now, told him to send money to Cohen. Cohen had paid Daniels $130,000 from a home equity loan in 2016 to buy her silence about a sexual encounter with Trump. Cohen received 11 checks totaling $420,000 in repayment, including enough money to cover the taxes he would have to pay for claiming the payments as income for legal services, and a bonus. 

Nine of those checks came from Trump’s personal bank account. His team sent the checks to him at the White House for his personal signature. 

A number of observers have suggested that the evidence presented through documents yesterday was not riveting, but historians would disagree. Exhibit 35 was Cohen’s bank statement, on which Weisselberg had written the numbers to reflect the higher payment necessary to cover Cohen’s tax bill for the money. Exhibit 36 was a sheet of paper on which McConney had recorded in his own hand how the payments to Cohen would work. The sheet of paper had the TRUMP logo on it. 

“It’s rare to see folks put the key to a criminal conspiracy in writing,” legal analyst Joyce White Vance wrote in Civil Discourse, “but here it is. It’s great evidence for the prosecution.” 

Today, Daniels took the stand, where she testified about how she had met Trump, he had invited her to dinner but greeted her in silk or satin pajamas, then went on to describe their sexual encounter. The testimony was damaging enough that Trump’s lawyers asked for a mistrial, which Judge Juan Merchan denied, noting that the lawyers had not objected to much of the testimony and must assume at least some responsibility for that. 

The case is not about sex but about business records. But it is hugely significant that the story Daniels told today is the one Trump was determined that voters would not hear before the 2016 election, especially after the “grab ‘em by the p*ssy” statement in the Access Hollywood tape, which was released in early October 2016. While his base appears to be cemented to him now, in 2016 he appeared to think that the story of him having sex with an adult film star while his wife had a four-month old baby at home could cost him dearly at the ballot box. 

The other election-related cases involving Trump indict him for his determination to cling to power after voters had turned him out in 2020. This case, from before he took office, illuminates that his willingness to manipulate election processes was always part of his approach to politics. 

Joyce White Vance is right that it’s rare to see folks put a criminal conspiracy in writing, but it is not unheard of. In our own history, the big ranchers in Johnson County, Wyoming, organized as the Wyoming Stock Growers’ Association, decided in 1892 to clear out the smaller cattlemen pushing their animals onto the federal land and the railroad land the ranchers considered their own. They hired 50 gunmen in Texas to kill their competitors, and they gave them a written list of the men they wanted dead. 

The gunmen killed four of the smaller cattlemen after cornering them in a cabin, but outraged settlers surrounded the gunmen and threatened to hang them all. Local law enforcement sided with the small cattlemen, and the Wyoming Stock Grower’s Association appealed to the governor for help in restoring order. The governor, in turn, appealed to President Benjamin Harrison, who sent troops to rescue the stock growers’ men from the angry settlers and lawmen. The expense of keeping the stock growers’ men imprisoned nearly broke the state.

Witnesses became mum, and the cases against the Texas gunmen fell apart. The stock growers had first intimidated and then killed those who tried to challenge their monopoly on the Wyoming cattle industry. Then, thwarted by local lawmen, they called in the federal government, and those stock growers involved in the Johnson County War actually got away with murder.

This evening, Judge Aileen Cannon vacated the May 20, 2024, trial date for the criminal case of Trump’s retention of classified documents and declined to set a new date. With so many remaining issues unresolved, she wrote, it would be “imprudent” to set a new trial date. 

This is the case in which the U.S. government accuses Trump of retaining hundreds of classified documents that compromised the work of the Central Intelligence Agency, which provides intelligence on foreign countries and global issues; the Department of Defense, which provides military forces to ensure national security; the National Security Agency, which collects intelligence from communications and information systems; the National Geospatial Intelligence Agency, which provides intelligence from imagery; the National Reconnaissance Office, which operates satellites and reconnaissance systems; the Department of Energy, which manages nuclear weapons; and the Department of State, including the Bureau of Intelligence and Research, which provides intelligence to U.S. diplomats. 

These are the documents the Federal Bureau of Investigation later recovered from Mar-a-Lago, where they were stored in public spaces, including a bathroom, after Trump first retained them, then denied he had them, and then tried to hide them. 

The U.S. government charges that “[t]he classified documents TRUMP stored in his boxes included information regarding defense and weapons capabilities of both the United States and foreign countries; United States nuclear programs; potential vulnerabilities of the United States and its allies to military attack; and plans for possible retaliation in response to a foreign attack. The unauthorized disclosure of these classified documents could put at risk the national security of the United States, foreign relations, the safety of the United States military, and human sources and the continued viability of sensitive intelligence collection methods.” 

Today, Trump's trial for his retention of these classified documents is indefinitely postponed.

Trump appointed Cannon to the bench, and the Senate confirmed her after he lost the 2020 presidential election. She has seemed to be in no hurry to bring the case to trial before the 2024 election, a case that, if he is reelected, Trump will almost certainly quash. 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[loanslucre]

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[paydayquid]

Short Term Loans UK: A Common Source of Funds for Borrowing

Even when your paycheck is a long way off, you still need to pay your bills on schedule. Be at ease! One common way to borrow money is through short term loans UK. All you need to do is fill out the online form and give the lender your information for verification. The lender will deposit the money directly into your bank account the same day or the following business day if all of the information is validated. Since the internet mode is a free media, it saves you both money and valuable time.

You are permitted to withdraw short term loans UK in the range of £100 and £1000. You can take care of your essential financial demands, which include paying for household expenses, credit card payments, and overdrafts in your bank account, medical bills, electricity bills, grocery store bills, and much more.

In order to easily receive a large sum of money through short term loans UK, you must meet all of the requirements given below.

• You must have a current UK resident document.

• You need to be receiving your salary into your account through direct deposit on a regular basis.

• The minimum age requirement is eighteen years old.

If you meet all the requirements listed above, you can still acquire short term loans UK direct lender without having to go through the credit check process, even if you have poor credit. Therefore, in order for fair credit holders to be eligible for financing through these loans, your bad credit factors—such as defaults, arrears, foreclosure, late or missed payments, CCJs, IVAs, or bankruptcy—must also be taken into consideration.

Can I Receive the Funds from My Short Term Loan the Same Day?

Often, the response is in the affirmative. Our short-term lending approach is designed to be as quick and entirely online as feasible. In the end, nevertheless, we are unable to ensure that you will receive your money the same day. This is due to the fact that Payday Quid, acting as short term loans direct lenders, forwards your loan request to one of our affiliated lenders. This implies that they have the last say and control over how quickly certain steps are completed.

We can assure you that we will use every effort to ensure that you receive a same-day outcome, and this frequently occurs. Yet even if it doesn't arrive that day, we promise it will arrive quickly!

Payday Quid is your short-term backup

We want you to know that whenever things get tough financially, we're always here to support you. We're here around-the-clock to assist you in obtaining the funds you require to bring stability back to your life and wallet, regardless of your credit score.

A same day loans UK could be the difference between life and death. It can help you save money by allowing you to pay off a bill before it balloons into something larger, like late fees or severe damage to your property or car.

Short Term Loans UK, Same Day Loans UK, Short Term Cash Loans

[motorleases]

Ditch the Debt, Drive Your Dreams: No Credit Check Van Leasing

Building your business shouldn't be held hostage by credit scores. Enter the world of "no credit check van leasing", a game-changer for entrepreneurs who need a reliable workhorse without the financial hurdles. Forget the stress of loan applications and credit inquiries; this innovative option lets you get behind the wheel and start hustling, regardless of your credit history.

But how does it work? Unlike traditional leasing, which relies heavily on credit scores, these specialized providers take a more holistic approach. They consider your income, business stability, and even alternative credit data to assess your suitability. This means freelancers, startups, and those with limited credit history have a fair shot at securing the van they need.

Here are some key benefits of no credit check van leasing:

1- Faster approval process: Say goodbye to weeks of waiting. With streamlined assessments, you could be driving your new van within days. 2- No credit score impact: Forget the anxiety of credit checks. This option protects your credit history, leaving you free to build it organically. 3- Flexible terms: Choose a lease duration and mileage that suits your needs, from short-term contracts to long-term flexibility. 4- Reduced upfront costs: Skip the hefty down payments. Most no-credit-check leases require minimal upfront investments, freeing up your capital for business growth. 5- Predictable monthly payments: Enjoy fixed installments for the duration of your lease, making budgeting a breeze. 6- Focus on what matters: With a reliable van at your disposal, you can concentrate on what truly drives your business, whether it's client satisfaction or market expansion.

No credit check van leasing isn't a magic bullet, but it's a powerful tool for entrepreneurs who need a boost. Remember, it's crucial to research reputable providers, compare lease terms, and ensure you understand all the associated costs. With careful planning and responsible financial management, you can leverage this option to fuel your business growth without breaking the credit bank.

So, are you ready to ditch the debt and drive your dreams? Explore the world of no credit check van leasing and unlock the freedom to navigate your entrepreneurial journey with confidence.