#i would rather save my money to move out and write and care for myself

[gently-decaying-flowers]

well that was awkward

[popp1nstaxr]

❝My Doll❜❜ BG

Content: Smut, nsfw, sexual content, profanity, enemies to lovers, fem! reader, about stimulation.

Preview:

«You and BeomGyu have been something like enemies, you can't stand each other and every interaction ends in a fight, strangely, many believe that you really have something in common, more often than not as simple nonsense, your surprise will be great when you realize how real all those rumors that run about both are»

My first language is not English, I'm sorry if there is any mistake in the writing <3

Reblog and Like for more!! >.<

This is definitely not what I had planned for today.

I had decided to go out with my friends to the cinema. It was a sunny day according to the forecasts, and I hoped to have a good time and forget a bit about the tough times and stress of University. But to my surprise, around noon, it started to rain, and the intensity kept increasing. Can the forecast be wrong...?

And everything just got worse from there. My parents called saying they couldn't pick me up, and that's fine, but I hate taking the bus when it's raining. Waiting at the stop wasn't exactly pleasant; if you weren't careful, you could end up completely soaked in dirty water because of reckless drivers speeding through the wet streets, causing the huge puddles by the side of the road to splash onto you, and it's not, precisely, pretty.

I sighed as I waited for the bus, cursing myself for believing in the "nice weather" and not wearing weather-appropriate clothes. If I had known, I would have even brought a coat for the cold.

I watched as an elderly lady stumbled on the wet pavement, and almost immediately, I ran to prevent the accident. While helping the old lady, I saw the bus pass right by me.

I said goodbye to her and nodded as she thanked me, immediately running after the bus, "Wait! Please!" I shouted, hoping to make it stop in the pouring rain. But my shouts were in vain, and I soon stopped, completely drenched.

My blouse clung almost instantly to my body, and I cursed myself for wearing a black bra underneath it. It was clearly visible, in addition to the raindrops trickling down my bare legs and how much my skirt clung to them.

I wanted to cry.

That's when an expensive blue car stopped beside me—or rather, it was moving slowly along the road, as if strolling with me. The window rolled down, revealing a smirk that was both mocking and charming, oh, of course, I should have expected that it would be Choi BeomGyu, the only jerk who loves to show off his father's money from that company.

I completely ignored him, rolled my eyes, and kept walking.

"Hey, gorgeous. Are you sure you don't want to get in? I don't think rain is your strong suit," he said, laughing a bit as I heard him unlock the car.

I had two choices: to get in and dry off or to die of hypothermia from the cold.

Certainly, I'd prefer to die of hypothermia, but BeomGyu's annoying insistence, constantly chanting "get in, get in, get in, get in" while honking the horn from time to time, was getting on my nerves. So, I decided to get in the car.

Once inside, I observed him in more detail: his long hair and those few blonde strands made him look quite attractive, not to mention his penchant for wearing oversized hoodies from some rock band—My Chemical Romance, to be specific— and blue jeans, sometimes ripped or normal but equally baggy, adorned with chains and some rings on his hands.

Shit, if he weren't such a jerk, I'd let him mistreat me in five different ways.

"I see that today definitely wasn't your lucky day. Thank the universe that such a kind guy like me decided to save a damsel in distress like you," he spoke and smiled, glancing briefly at my legs, something I obviously noticed.

I raised an eyebrow, curious about that, and chuckled softly, but I didn't say anything about it.

His perfectly defined, pale, and large hands adorned with some silver rings and others with chain rings were expertly handling the steering wheel with incredible agility; you could tell he was a guy with skilled hands.

"Ugh, I only agreed because you're annoying, otherwise, I would have preferred to stay on the street," I replied, looking out the window. I heard him laugh ironically, but he didn't say anything.

"Yeah, whatever. Take my phone and look up your home address. I decided to be kind just for today, so don't provoke me, sweetheart," he said, his voice becoming more serious. I just rolled my eyes; he always tried to act superior to everyone, which was quite irritating.

But I didn't say anything and decided to obey, taking his phone and unlocking it for him. "Password," I said, and when he stopped at a red light, I saw him smile and chuckle a bit. It was almost as if he enjoyed the fact that I had obeyed him without complaints.

He snatched the phone from my hand and used his fingerprint to unlock it, opening the GPS app, then handed it back to me.

I searched for my home address and handed it to him.

He nodded. "Hold it for a bit, doll, so I can see," he said. I nodded and complied again.

Maybe it was fatigue, but all of this was quite strange. I feel like something was missing between us, something that never fails whenever we talk.

Oh, right, the fights.

Half of the journey was in silence. I don't know why, but I truly believed it would be annoying, as it usually is back at the University. However, I don't complain about the tranquility.

Suddenly, I glanced at the GPS and realized that BeomGyu had taken the wrong turn. "Oh, BeomGyu, you're going the wrong way. My house is that way..." I spoke to him, and he just nodded.

"I know, it's just that there's a store nearby, and believe me, I can't stand seeing you in that state anymore. I need... to cover it up," he said. His voice sounded a bit husky, and then he cleared his throat.

I looked at him, confused. "That state?" I repeated, puzzled, and then I observed myself. Of course, I'm still drenched... this, certainly, amused me. Who would have thought that Choi would succumb so quickly to temptation? I really wouldn't want to sleep with him, but it would be fun to tease and provoke him a bit.

When he parked the car and I saw him taking out his keys, I decided to act. We were in an underground establishment, and there weren't many cars around. I suppose it would be fun to play a little with his desires.

I let out a sigh and walked as quickly as I could to sit on his lap, BeomGyu seemed surprised and confused "What the fuck are you doing...? Get off" he spoke with a frown, I just nodded, but I ignored him, even climbing higher on his legs, riding his member almost as if it belonged to me.

"What will you do if I don't want...?" I murmured while I began to leave playful little kisses on his neck, that's when I felt one of his hands brush one of my thighs, a very light touch that spoke volumes.

"Trust me, for your sake, come down now." He ordered, his voice hoarser and more demanding than before, I ignored him again, continuing with my lips on his neck, beginning to slowly move my hips on his member, creating an exquisite sway, I allowed myself to let out a sigh against his skin when I could feel almost immediately his member under my butt and smiled, I had achieved my goal.

I stopped my movements and tried to get off his lap, but I felt his big hands hold my hip tightly, preventing him from trying to move if I wanted to. my hips on his member, making the movement from before even more exquisite "Now you have to take care of what you woke up princess, and I don't want to see complaints because then it will only make you worse, hmm?" I heard him speak against my neck, his voice was completely demanding and I shuddered when he let a slow lick from my shoulder to my jaw, his hands released my hips to almost immediately take my thighs and squeeze them with some force, spreading my thighs even more. legs as if he wanted to make way for his cock to be between my pussy still with clothes on. I could see how his fingers left small purple marks on my thighs as he moved his hands up to my rear and squeezed lightly.

I couldn't help it, in less than seconds I was already a mess of sighs under him and he hadn't even touched my most sensitive points.

I heard him laugh hoarsely "You totally fell for my game, Y/N. I really could have left you at home to avoid my temptation, but I didn't resist and I needed to test you, making up the cheapest excuse. This store is closed on Fridays and the store they leave it open to the public, so, darling, you didn't play with me, I played with you and believe me, I'll take all of you right now" he spoke as he massaged my buttocks and then gave a slap that made me cry slightly "but, Shh, it's okay. Silent beautiful, I wouldn't want them to take us out of here in the middle of the act because you can't contain your dirty slutty sounds" he added later to start leaving hickeys on my neck, while his hands went up my entire uniform skirt and cheekily touched my behind, while another of his hands went straight to the buttons of my blouse.

He was already letting go, he sighed with each touch and bite he gave, I tried to hold back the little cry that threatened to come out of my throat when I felt his hand squeeze with tortured exquisite delicacy as he unhooked my bra.

"Move your hips" he ordered seriously and with his hoarse voice, with one hand taking my hips and guiding my movements while the other played with my breasts, he brought his mouth to one of them and began to suck and play with his tongue on the tip of my nipple. "G-Gyunnie..." I whimpered his name at the pleasant sensation, but I couldn't be satisfied, I wanted more, I needed more from him.

He separated his mouth from my chest and made a few hickeys under each of them, before licking his lips and looking at me with a leering smile "Yes, Baby Doll? Remember to be silent my love, I see you completely a mess and still I haven't been able to try my fingers on you..."

I nodded, and released a content sigh "I need... I need more" I barely murmured, and stopped the movements that guided my hips. "Further..?" He asked smiling and I nodded.

"Fine, but for this I need you to be obedient, yes my love?" I nodded. "Let's go to the back" he ordered him and I without saying anything went to the back seats, BeomGyu followed me and sat on the seat. "Get on your knees in front of the glass, don't worry, they're tinted windows" I nodded and obeyed, I appreciated that the back seats were quite wide "place both hands on the glass my love" He ordered again, his voice strangely sweet.

And in that position, I heard how BeomGyu removed all his rings from his hands and left them on the front seats of the car, to then feel how his hands slowly went up behind my thighs towards my butt, then lowering my panties and raising all my skirt, exposing my entire ass to him, he hit him and I let out a small moan between pain and satisfaction "Shut up, little dolls don't talk" and automatically bit my lips to make silence.

My breath quickened when I felt him play with the entrance of my butt, brushing his fingers there "Be quiet" he asked sweetly again and I nodded, when I felt two of his fingers penetrate my butt without warning, stimulating there by removing a Little his fingers inside me, I bit my lip so hard to avoid moans of so much satisfaction that I drew a little blood, soon he began to penetrate me with his fingers and my already wet pussy felt it throb, while my behind it tightened around his fingers, damn it, he needed his cock.

He chuckled "look, how needy you are of me, isn't this beautiful doll?" I heard him say when he took his fingers out of my butt. "But... we'll leave this here for today, you still don't deserve my dick"

I widened my eyes in surprise, was he really going to leave me like this? No, no, no, you can't, he refused me.

I immediately settled back and watched him, noticing that he was cleaning the liquid that I left on his hands to put the rings back on "W-will you leave me... like this?" I asked with some disappointment, he just laughed and winked at me.

"I have to go buy things, you fix yourself up. But it was fun to see you so... miserable in front of me, my marks are now all over your body..." he spoke and smirked.

"You said it was closed on Fridays" he accused, annoyed, he really couldn't be more of a son of a bitch.

"Oops, double deception cutie" he said with amusement and got out of the car, leaving me there in my mess.

This was a fucking robbery.

[andydrysdalerogers]

Presley ~ A Curtis Everett Au ~ Part Five

Curtis Everett x OFC Presley Adams

Synopsis:

Curtis Everett is a hard working man. As the head of the mob of Concord, he does everything he can to provide for his wife and children. His life is perfect. Until it's not.

After a devastating accident, Curtis is alone with his children and needs some serious help.

Presley Adams needs to find work and fast. Running from her past she just wants to lay low and earn enough to get her out of town. Until she starts working for Curtis as his live in nanny.

As she falls in love with this family, can she stop her past from finding her? Or will her past be the end of the Everett reign in Concord?

Book two of the Five Kings of Boston series

Warning: themes of a mafia lifestyle; SMUT; possessive tendencies; murder; death; age gap;

A/N: taglist is open!

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: Part Four

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part Five ~ Her HIstory

Unknown 

I had never been an optimist.  It was stupid to believe that everything would be alright. An example: thinking that Lloyd Hansen would be able to help me achieve the ultimate goal.  

Marrying and breeding Amelia Giovanni.  

Her father had promised me that girl when she was just five years old.  He had been told that he wouldn’t be able to have any more children due to testicular cancer.  Fitting for a bastard that beat his wife every month that she didn’t end up pregnant after Ameila.  Sure, there was a 20-year age gap between us but that just meant I could be more experienced for her.  

She was a little doll, an absolute princess in the cold hard world of the mafia.  Her father needed a strong man to lead this family after he retired.  There was no way to leave all of this to a woman.  And after I had saved his nephew’s life, he chose me.  

Amelia is beautiful, smart, and sassy.  She was a brat at the best of times because her father spoiled his princess.  When I approached Mario about maybe getting a sample of her, he had no objection.  And I flirted and seduced the innocent Ameila.  Brat that she may be, she was still innocent to the world.  Very well protected by his men, especially one named Natalia Romanov.  But, one night, I found myself alone with Ameila.  I just wanted a taste, really, but when I touched Amelia, she screamed, and her mother rushed in with Natalia and threw me out of the room.  

I was livid.  Granted, I touched the girl around her pussy and that may have startled her, but that didn’t give the right for that bitch to touch me.  When I told Mario what happened, he said he would take care of the problem.  Natalia made it out before retribution could happen.  

And she got Ameila out as well. 

Mario was furious. He ordered his men to search for Natalia with orders to kill on sight and bring his daughter home. He also punished his wife.  

He murdered her.  

Actions have consequences.  

It has been five years since Amelia disappeared. While I waited for my bride, I was sent to learn my trade from one of the best.  Lloyd Hansen was a smart but delusional leader in Boston.  He had a fascination in finding his bride that was promised to him by a rather stupid deal her parents had made for money. And we did find her.  In a town Lloyd had no way of infiltrating due to its own mob boss: Andew Barber, his twin brother.  

The day before Andy took the fight to his brother, I made a getaway.  I could see the writing on the wall, and I had no intention of being there when the place went to hell.  I still had my own empire to run after this mess.  So, I left in the middle of the night on the guise of doing a run for Lloyd and got the hell out of dodge.  Best move ever.  Hansen was dead by daybreak; Barber had his queen safe and all of Hansen’s  men were considered dead or detained.  

Lucky for me, I had kept a low profile while I had been with Hansen, so I wasn’t on anyone’s radar.  I made it back to Giovanni and continued with my training and kept searching for my Amelia. I wouldn’t lose my chance at being at the top.  I wasn’t about to lose my chance to make Amelia heed to my will.  I always won at whatever I tried to accomplish.  Even if I had to set up the boss’s nephew so I could save him.  Even if I suggested that Mario “take care” of his wife.  Even if I suggested that I sample my bride before the wedding. I would do anything to win.  

I am Charles Blackwood, and I don’t lose.  

Presley 

I watched as Curtis absorbed the information that I had just poured all over him. This wasn’t something anyone would be able to take lightly. Knowing that you let a person into your home who wasn’t even using their real name.  I trembled slightly and that seemed to snap Curtis out of whatever he was in. “Presley... I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Please don’t hate me,” I whispered.  I couldn’t handle Curtis hating me at this point. I finally found a home I loved and people who loved me.  

“Kitten, why would I hate you?”  He brushed my hair back behind my ear and then cupped my cheek. “None of this is your fault.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips.  “Baby, I don’t care about your past. I’ll protect you, I already promised but I’ll say it every day if you need me to.”  

I felt the tear drop and he caught it on his thumb and brought it to his lips.  “You’re still calling me Presley.”  

“Because that’s who you are.” He searched my eyes.  “You’re my Presley, my Kitten.” He took a breath.  “Who were you supposed to marry?” 

“His name is Charles Blackwood. He was this soldier that saved one of my cousins.  My father wasn’t able to have more children after I was born so he set up Charles to marry me to pass the business on.”  I shook my head.  “My father is very traditional.  Women are meant to serve and be bred and that’s it.”  I looked away from Curtis.  “When I turned 18, we had a big party.  Charles, he... umm... he cornered me away from everyone and tried to touch me.  But my bodyguard, Natalia, alerted my mother, and they stopped him.”  

I remembered everything about that day.  The exact rose pink of my dress, my long brown hair done in a beautiful updo.  But when Charles touched me and I screamed for him to get away from me, I had no idea how my world would become upside down. “Father didn’t want to make a big scene in front of everyone, so he waited until the party cleared.  My mother disappeared from the party for a few minutes and then had Natalia take me to my room.”  

“Baby, you don’t...” I cut him off. 

“I need to, baby, otherwise it’ll just stay here,” I pointed to my chest, “and I won’t be able to be open with you.” I took another shuddering breath.  “My mom left me a bag she packed quickly for me and a couple of thousand dollars.  She kissed me and told Natalia to get me to safety.  We climbed out the window and were down the street when we heard the screaming and then a gun shot.”  

“He murdered her?”  I nodded.  “That son of a bitch.  I’m assuming you got away but what happened to Natalia?” 

“I don’t know.  We got separated in New York and I just kept moving. I headed north, thinking that my father and Blackwood would assume i would head west. I had always talked about going to California.  I moved from town to town every three months until I made it to Concord.  I met Cat, whom I knew from school and she got me the job at the law office.  You know the rest.”  

“Are you sure Cat won’t rat you out?”  Curtis frowned at the idea.  

“No, she won’t.  Her father was killed by one of my father’s men due to a debt owed. She hated my father and when I told her my story, she was more than willing to help me. She’s a hacker, got me my fake ID and social and the paperwork I needed to work.  Unfortunately, it got flagged when the law office was doing its checks for a big case.  Mr. Weiss said he wouldn’t report me to the authorities, but he had to fire me right away.  When you offered me this job and wanted to pay in cash, it was perfect.  I could earn enough to move to Canada.”  

Curtis was quiet for a minute, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m going to make sure Weiss burns the information.” I looked at him, puzzled. “He’s one of my lawyers,” he explained with a smile. “Weiss always comes to my office to limit my exposure to other cases.” He chuckled. “The irony that you were always near me but I never found you.”  

“Curtis, please know, if I need to leave to keep your children safe, I will.” 

For the second time in twenty-four hours, Curtis had a look of fury pass on his face. “No, Presley, you will stay here.  I will protect you and my children.  You running would be more of a risk.”  He kissed my forehead.  “We can get the paperwork started to change your name and get you the documents you legitimately need to survive.”  

I felt relief. For the first time, everything was out in the open and i was safe. I launched myself into his arms and cried.  He ran his hands through my hair and held me tight.  “I take care of what is mine, Kitten.”  

Curtis 

After everything Presley has told me, I’m not surprised at how strong she is.  She’s been through hell and back.  As I comforted my girl, i remembered what she said. “Are you still planning on leaving to Canada?” 

She pulled back and looked at me with pink ringed blue green eyes. “I don’t want to but I can’t let them find me.”  

I sighed, knowing my next statement could make or break us. “Kitten, I don’t feel comfortable paying you as the nanny when we are together.”  She opened her mouth to object, but I stopped her. “Give me a sec, ok?” She nodded.  “What I am saying is, allow me to take care of your expenses.  Use the credit card I gave you for whatever you need. In the meantime, I will set up an account with your salary.  If you feel like the time has come to leave, that you don’t want to be with me, I’ll give you the account.”  

She looked at me with wide eyes.  “Curtis, I can’t... I can’t let you do that. I don’t want to be some kind of “kept” woman.”  She shook her head. “People will think I’m some sort of gold-digger.”  

“Kitten, you are my woman.  Yes, you are taking care of my children but maybe in the future that will change.  And if anyone has an opinion on our relationship, I will take care of it. C’mere,” I pulled her into my chest. “I would never think you are using me for money. But I don’t want you to worry about it either.  You are protected and cherished here.” I kissed the top of her head.  

“Thank you, baby,” she whispered, and my heart just about burst with the pet name.  I held my girl for a few minutes until I heard the patter of feet that had to belong to my son. I sighed and my Kitten giggled. “I think Josh is up.”  

“That kid is growing up too fast,” I grumbled.  “C’mon Kitten, let’s celebrate Christmas.”  I got up and pulled on my boxers and pajama pants that I had ignored last night. I grabbed my robe for Presley.  “Here baby, wear this and go and change.  I’ll hold off the kids.” She smiled at me what feels like the first real smile that she’s given me in five years.  Hopefully, when we keep talking, I can find out more about her.  

Twenty minutes later, I see Presley coming down the stairs and smiled as she walks in with candy cane pajamas that match my daughters.  Everly sees her and jumps up and runs into her arms.  “Presley! Are you feeling better?” 

“I am, Princess. Ready to see what Santa brought you?”  She tickled Everly, who squirmed in her lap.  I took a seat next to Joshua, who was salivating at the pile of presents under and around the tree.  

“Joshua, why don’t you pass out the presents.” He looked at me with big eyes. “You’re big enough now that I trust you to do it, son.”  I gave him a side hug and Joshua jumped up and got to work.  

The chef that took over for Adam for the holiday came in with some pastries, cocoa for the kids and coffee for Presley and myself. The kids go wild, opening the gifts from me and from Santa.  Presley had taken care of the wrapping and had wrapped the Santa gifts in different paper, which excited Everly to no end. I reached over to a gift hidden in the back of the tree. I got up to sit next to Presley as Everly and Joshua were now on the floor with their new gifts.  “For you, Kitten.”  

She took the present and looked at me with glassy eyes.  “I didn’t get you anything,” she whispered.  

“That’s not the point of Christmas, Kitten.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “Open it.”  

I was kind of anxious to give her this gift, given everything we had spoken about.  She didn’t want to be a kept woman.  And that was totally understandable.  Most woman, including my wife, liked to be independent.  However, my protective instincts have kicked in on Presley and I will not stop until I know she is safe forever.  Every solution is swirling in my brain right now.  I can’t lose her, but I also have to go slow about this.  She was practically a virgin last night and I took her to the limit.  

I’ve had a taste of what my future could hold and there isn’t a chance in hell that I would let go.  

I watched her unwrap the box and open the velvet box.  The ring, earrings and necklace set was diamonds and blue sapphires, delicate but not ostentatious, the sparkle just understated enough to be worn every day. “Curtis,” she gasped.  

“The color reminded me of your eyes, Kitten.  I wanted to give you something that sparkles just like them.  Do you like them?” 

“Curtis, it's beautiful.  Thank you.”  She moves to kiss my cheek but I turn at the last moment and kiss her softly on the lips.  

“Dad, why are you kissing Presley?” Josh and Evie look up at us with big eyes as I pull away from my girl. Crap. I wasn’t thinking. But this is good.  This will prove to Presley that I want her and that she isn’t a dirty secret. 

“Ok, you know I love you guys so much.  And it's just been the three of us since your mother died.” I swallowed.  “I like Presley a lot and she likes me, and I’ve asked her to be my girlfriend. Do you know what that means?” 

Josh nodded but Evie scowled. “Does that mean she’s moving out?” 

I knelt before her.  “No princess, she doesn’t have to move. She’s still gonna take care of you.  It's just, I’m going to take her to dinner or the movies when it's just the grown-ups.  But she’s not leaving.” Evie burst into tears and ran into Presley’s arm. “Evie, princess what’s wrong?” 

“I didn’t want her to leave because when Jenny’s dad had a girlfriend and she left,” Evie cries.  

Presley picks up my sweet girl and clutches her tight. “I won’t leave you Evie. Never ever. I like your daddy a lot and even if I didn’t, I would still be here for you.” She pulled back to wipe away her tears. “Everything is going to be ok. I promise.” Presley kissed her forehead and then whispered something to Evie.  My little girl nods and then climbs off her lap and into mine.  

“I love you Daddy and I’m sorry I yelled.” She leaned into me and wrapped her tiny arms around my neck.  I always loved when my kids wrapped themselves into me.  

“I love you too Princess.” I kissed her head and pull back.  “How about some breakfast?” 

“Yay!” She runs into the dining room but Joshua waits.  Presley looks at me and nods before leaving the room.  

“Joshua, what’s wrong?” I sit back down and pat the seat next to me.  He sits and thinks about his words for a moment.  

“If you kiss Presley, does that mean you don’t love Momma anymore?” 

My heart broke.  I didn’t think about the consequences like these.  I took a moment to compose myself before i answered him.  “No. Joshua, I will always love your mother because she gave me two of my greatest gifts in the world.  Do you know what they are?”  He shakes his head.  “Its your sister and you.  But when a great love leaves before you are ready, you always carry their love with you.  It doesn’t mean you can’t experience another love in your life.”  

“Do you love Presley?” 

“I don’t know yet. I like her, a lot. I like that she loves you guys so much.  I think in the future, I might fall in love with her. We’re still getting to know each other.”  

“Is she going to be our new mom?” 

“I don’t know that either.  But when I’m ready to find out I’ll come talk to you ok?” He nodded before wrapping himself into me.  “Oh buddy, your momma will always be your momma. Would it be a bad thing if Presley became your momma too?” 

“No, I just don’t want to forget Momma.”  I can hear the sobs in his chest and my heart aches.  

“I’m never gonna let that happen buddy. I just want my chance to be happy too.”  

“I want you to be happy too Papa.  Does Presley make you happy?” 

I smile.  “She does.  She really does.”  

After breakfast, the kids went for a nap, having risen early for Christmas and I led Presley into my office. “I just want to keep talking Kitten.”  

Presley original sat in one of the chairs across my desk but then she moved towards me and sat in my lap, curling into me.  I forgot how that felt, to have a woman pressed into my body in my office.  I had never taken a lover after Anna had died.  I hadn’t felt the need to. But having Presley here felt right and I wouldn’t ignore it.  She signed as I played with her hair. “Curtis?” 

“Yes, Kitten?” 

“Why was Andy Barber looking at me weird?” She swallowed. “It was as if he knew me but I’ve never met him before.”  She reached for her necklace again and I sighed.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep this secret. I owed her the truth.  

“Kitten, I had a background check ran on you by Clint.  When he discovered that it only went back five years, we had to go to an expert.” I thumbed her cheek. “Its standard procedure for anyone who is this close to the family.  I had to ask permission to use the best one on the East Coast. His boss is Andy Barber.”  

Presley 

Oh shit.  No, this couldn’t be happening. They were going to find me now.  I know it.  I start to pull away from Curtis, but he holds onto me tighter.  “Wait, Kitten, let me explain and then you can decide if you want to run away.”  I nodded and he continued.  “I told Andy about the situation, and he was more than happy to lend out the services of his tech guy, Jensen.  Jensen was able to find out about you.”  

Curtis reached into a drawer and pulled out a manila folder. He handed it to me. I trembled as I turned it over in my hands.  “It’s still sealed,” I said with surprise.  

“Yes.  When Jensen emailed me the file, I didn’t open it.  I guess Jensen has a way to see if something was opened.  When it wasn’t, Andy brought it with him last night.”   

I stared at the unopen envelope.  “So, you had no idea what I was going to tell you?” 

“Not a clue Kitten. I realized that if you were going to trust me, let me date you, let me fuck you, it had to be on your terms. You had to be ready to tell me your story.” He nuzzled into my hair. “I was going to tell you about all of this, I promise.”  

I was dizzy from all of the information, all of the emotions, all of the changes that were happening in the span of 12 hours.  I went from having an affair with my boss to being his girlfriend and sharing the history I was desperately trying to run from.  My breath is coming in short spurts and Curtis can feel it.  “Breathe, Kitten, come on, please breathe for me.”  

“Will Andy say something?” I question Curtis, the fear curling in my belly, still gasping to fill my lungs. .  

“No, I don’t think he will.  When I spoke to him last night, he told Clint that the best place for you was here. That's why I know that he read your file.” Curtis ran his thumb on the skin of my neck.  “Would you like to meet him formally and ask?  We can make that happen Kitten.”  

Do I want to involve myself with another mob boss.  Not really, but Curtis seemed to trust Andy and I know I can trust Curtis.  “Yes, I think that would be smart.” I turned my head to kiss his cheek, but he turned as well and kissed me like it was our first.  

Two weeks later... 

Curtis 

I sat in my office, looking over the numbers of some of our legitimate businesses and marking where I needed answers from my managers and accountants when there was a knock on the door,  “Yeah?” 

Clint peaked his head in.  “Sorry to disturb, boss, but they’re here.” 

“Show them in and then get Presley, have her wait in the hall, and come back in. Wait 10 minutes before letting her in,” I instructed. He nodded and I went back to my report.  The door opened again, and Andy walked in with two people.  I knew Nick as Andy’s second but the woman with them was unfamiliar.  “Andy, thanks for coming.”  

Andy shook my hand.  “I’m glad I can help with this.  Doesn’t she know everything?” 

“Not everything, no, but I was honest about the background I’ve done.” Everyone sat down. “Gonna introduce me to your friend?” 

The woman made no movement.  Andy chuckled. “Just wait Everett.  I think your girl might like this surprise I brought.”  He took out an envelope.  “This is the other threat I mentioned.  Someone has either seen her and recognized or you have a leak.”  

I looked at the note and cursed. 

Give us the girl or all five families will be at war.  

“They know she’s around just not with who?” I asked. Fuck, this wasn’t good.  

“Looks like it,” Nick said.  “We’ve doubled our security, visible and otherwise. With Mrs. Barber in her condition, we didn’t want any surprises. Giovanni is notorious for not giving a fuck who they hurt or damage they do. An heir is a soft spot and we wanted to limit exposure.” 

“Understandable,” I replied, still looking at the note.  “Clint, we need to make plans for the same. For everyone.” He nods, looks at his watch and head back out.  It was time to bring Presley in.  I had no clue what was about to happen, but I knew I could trust Andy with my life. 

The door opened again, and Presley walked in with Clint.  She looked beautiful today in a white sweater, legging and boots. She had taken the children to school this morning and dressed for the weather. “Kitten, come on in, please.”  She walked towards me and glanced around the room and stopped.  

“Natalia?” My girl’s lower lip trembled as she stared at Andy associate.  

“Amelia?” The woman stood up before rushing over to Presley and pulling her into a hard hug.  

I know shock was all over my face, but Andy seemed... pleased? He looked at me and nodded.  “Curtis, this is Natasha Romanoff or as Presley might know her, Natalia Romanov.” He smiled. “When Jensen started his background on Miss Adams, he found our undercover person.” He looked as the tears streamed down Presley’s face.  “I figured if I brought a friendly face it might win her over.”  

Presley pulled away.  “How?” 

“When we got separated, I was injured and found my way to Nick.”  She looked at Andy’s second.  “He took me in and helped me and I explained who I was and who I was running from.  I’ve been looking for you everywhere but didn’t get a hit.  At least until Jensen started looking.” She cupped Presley’s cheek. “I’m so happy you are alive, princepessa.”  

“I was so sad for so long.  I saw on the news about Mama, and I thought...” she dissolved back into tears. 

I cleared my throat.  “Needless to say, Barber, that we have an understanding about not making noise about Presley.”  

Andy shakes his head.  “Of Course not.  After everything with Aurora, I don’t want to draw attention to this part of town.”  

“Understood but we should have everyone on the lookout.”  

“For whom?” 

“Charles Blackwood.”  

NEXT

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[klein3ngl]

Hello :D do you have any p1 Dude headcanons?

hi hi.

oh boy, I thought I had a few, but after I sat down to write them just realized I might have a bit too much more than what I’ve expected, haha.

POSTAL 1 DUDE; headcanons

first of all! some headcanons make reference of how he was before the first game, so trying to apply them to the guy who’s terrified, sitting on the floor while hugging his gun would be pretty useless

also, if instead of a hyphen there’s a star it’s to address DID in Dude (I don’t have DID myself and I’m not close to somebody who has DID, all I know is from research I’ve done myself, so if there’s something wrong please tell me.

if you’re not into the DID idea just ignore the stars.

anyway, here we go:

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

— Before what happened in 1997 I think he was still a disaster, but a bit more functional.

I’m not gonna dig a lot into how he was while growing up, but he’s an only child that comes from a christian yet dysfunctional family, so after he finally had enough saved money and the legal age he moved to another city (not Paradise) to start again and never looked back, probably with a bit of help coming from Uncle Dave, the only family member that cared about him.

★ P2’s been with him since he was a kid/pre-teen. P1 doesn’t really knows who or what P2 is and at first is pretty much afraid, thinking he’s a demon of some kind. But after a while and seeing how he stands up for him (when he’s unable to defend himself, make friends, etc) and he’s not really trying to harm him he relaxes for a bit.

— He’s always been pretty much a loner, but not to the point to isolate himself completely. He had a tiny group of friends who were also as “weird” as he was who were also into the alternative/goth subculture. Those were probably the best years of his life.

But still, following the last point, I also think he’s one of those people that when they feel bad they isolate themselves for some time and then come back like nothing happened. It usually worked, until it didn’t.

— I have no idea of where I readed I don’t know if it was the Wiki, TV Tropes, in a reddit comment or somewhere else but I think that during the development of “Postal” the Postal Dude was around 27 years old. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ll go with that.

And, to add some more flavor, I don’t remember if it was Tumblr or Reddit, but somebody had the headcanon that the 14 of November, the day the first game begins, it’s also the Postal Dude’s birthday.

I can’t remember who had such a good idea but I love it way too much, I love angst with all my heart so now it’s my headcanon too.

(if I see the original headcanon again I’ll give credits to the person)

— [ tw // mentions of drugs ] Definitely smokes both cigarettes and weed, but the last one just from time to time. Has tried acid or mushrooms but rather stick to weed.

He hasn’t done crack or anything too heavy, not before 1997.

— He has little to no idea of how to cook. He can do some basic stuff to survive, and he has tried following a recipe in the past, but it’s definitely not his best . Not like he enjoys it either.

— His body: pretty tall. He has a bit of a complex with his height, finding clothes of his size can be complicated and it’s a bit awkward too.

His body is a bit built (he does some work out because of the idea that somebody can attack him at any moment is enough to make him try to learn some self defense alone in his room). Compared to P2 he's has more corporal mass, but not as much as P3 would have. He's an in between. Not skinny but not fat either.

He’s also pretty pale. Not because he can’t get tanned or anything, but because he would rather go out when the sun is already setting or during night or, in general, prefers to stay at his house.

In general he’s one of those people you see on the street and catch your attention: it’s not always that you see a really tall guy with long ginger hair.

— He doesn’t cut his hair because he likes how it looks on him but also because he’s too lazy (and anxious) to go to a hairdresser. He sometimes cuts it himself, and since he has no idea there have been times it ends up disastrous, but since I think his hair is a bit wavy it doesn’t look really bad.

He also doesn’t maintains it really well, he only uses shampoo and, maybe, one of those 3 in one bottles and that’s all. If it’s really cold he dries it with the hairdryer, but rarely does so.

— His handwriting is HORRIBLE. Not like if it’s like hieroglyphics, you can read it, but it’s just really ugly (the diary/war journal entries is how he writes, but since he was pretty stressed and scared it’s a bit more agitated). Also makes too much pressure, not to the point of ripping of the paper but you can feel it on the other face of the sheet surface if you brush it with your hand.

Likes to write for himself, it’s therapeutic and the best way to cope, the less harmful to himself too.

— Following the last point he also likes to make some doodles, especially when bored. Nothing too serious though, the typical thing you do when you’re in class bored and you only have a pen in hand and a paper. You’ll see plenty of them that decorate his notes and diaries. They’re a bit chaotic, his traces being a bit messy.

— If he was accepted in RWS he might have some knowledge about the videogame industry or related. Not sure of what, probably graduated in some studies about it. Maybe a programmer? I dunno.

— Definitely neurodivergent. Either autistic or ADHD. Or both.

His main interests being weapons, movies and videogames. Predilect genres? Terror and horror. He’s not much of a reader though.

On a side note, easily overwhelmed with people he’s not close with touching him (or in general, he’s not opposed to it but would rather if the other person asked for permission) and large crowds, and the main reason he wears he started wearing sunglasses it’s because sensitivity to bright lights.

Still, he’s undiagnosed so he has no clue why he’s like that and why can’t he be normal, sometimes thinking he’s a bit dramatic. His group of friends also had other neurodivergent people who he could rely on so he didn’t feel that bad after all.

— He hated going to clubs for that same reason, even the more alt ones. Too much noise and people. He probably went there because of his friends and enjoyed it for a little while, but would’ve rather been doing anything else.

★ P2 liked it more than him, so when they made plans with their friends he was the one who was in control most part of the time.

— He’s the kind of person that I think would listen to pretty much everything, but definitely his favorite genre is hard rock and metal and its sub-genres: goth metal, black metal, grunge, industrial, you name it. Maybe nu metal it’s not really his thing.

Still, he jams pretty much everything so you could catch him singing a Spicegirls song and he would deny it with his life.

★ It’s in fact P2 who prefers nu metal and wouldn’t care what he’s listening to. Would probably tease P1 about it though.

P2: “You’re listening to Madonna? I thought you didn’t liked pop”

P1: “...shut it”

p2: “Whatever you say edgelord… "LIKE A VIRGIN JUST, LIKE THE VERY FIRST TIME- ♪"”

— He’s bisexual, but still in the closet and pretty deep in there. He has done a few things with other guys but nothing too serious or further than making out probably. Partly because he has some internalized homophobia from the family he comes from (in himself! would never judge or care is one of his close ones was in the queer community) and because generally he sucks at dating.

★ Again, P2 is more open about it than him, and probably the one who had those interactions with other guys, but since P1 was not really uncomfortable with the subject he never went too far.

P2 tried to talk to him about it, but P1 just refuses.

— Also, how did I forgot to mention this? Religious trauma.

Now, he has a weird relationship with his christianity and beliefs, his morals, and how he views himself since he was teached to be a good christian, and he kinda wants to be good at the eyes of God, but at the same time he’s into too many stuff his parents told him they were satanic and bad. He has mixed emotions about it, it’s like he wants to let it go, but he’s unable to do so.

To him the cross he carries around his neck is not for the aesthetic, but he’s not because he’s a good christian either. And when he’s feeling at his worst? It’s like a dog collar, reminding him how all the trauma his family beliefs have harmed him, but at the same time he cannot let it go for some reason. It’s like an abusive relationship both with himself and with his religion, if he even believes in it. It’s complicated to understand? He’s just as confused as you are.

Maybe the problem it’s not the religion itself, maybe it was his family and now because of them he can’t really feel comfortable praying (even if he sometimes finds himself doing so on the nights of rough days) or having a normal relationship with his christianity. Whatever it is, he’s traumatized.

★ And P2 doesn't helps either. He just does not cares about it and when he sees P1 having a breakdown about it, knowing how hard the subject is for him, just prefers to not to get involved, because, anyways, what can he do to help him? He just does not know either, it’s something he has to resolve himself. He cannot help him in everything.

P1 sometimes has called P2 a demon during his attacks, and even if he just ignores it it’s true that it can get annoying after all the times he has tried to help him, and every time they had a fight about it P1 ended up worse, so P2 decided to not get involved any more time for that too.

— I think he’s both shy and introverted, but don’t misinterpret me; not shy in a cute bean who gets all nervous and blushy. No. More in the staring at the person like if he was a deer in front of the lights of a car type of shyness, trying not to get too nervous, and after a few seconds he responds to whatever that person said or asked, hoping it wasn’t too cringy or awkward. He usually gets like that when he’s interested in a person (doesn’t matter if it’s platonic or romantic) and doesn’t want them to get weirded out by him

More introverted than shy, that’s for sure.

— If he’s having a good day his neutral face just looks tired, in his worst I doubt anybody would be able to get to see him because in those days he locks himself in his house and refuses to go out, but if it’s the case (probably the clerk of a shop because he ran out of food) it’s a mix of anger and fear (mainly due paranoia and hallucinations, trying to put and angry face to make the others don’t bother him).

— He could be INFJ (Ni Fe Ti Se) or INTJ (Ni Te Fi Se). If that was the case I think it would be due to Se grip.

I could go more into details because I really enjoy MBTI and see how its functions work on fictional characters.

★ Not the same as P2 of course, but that's a story for another day.

— Pretty much stoic, but on the inside? A mess of emotions he does not know how to untangle correctly. He can get emotional when he’s alone, but that’s a part nobody would ever see of him. He’s not going to let anybody see him in such a vulnerable and weak state.

— Now, returning to the main point. I could really go into details of what or why I think it could have happened for him to literally go postal, but I think the main point is that he moved to Paradise trying to escape from his life. And you may ask “but you said those were the happiest years of his life!” yep, completely, but there can be a few things that alone could have been bad but tolerable, but too many of them make them unbearable: maybe he distanced himself from his friends, had to move somewhere cheaper because of money, his mental health going downhill, etc.

The thing is, he moved to Paradise, and it was probably his worst mistake.

Uncle Dave lived there, that’s why he chose that city, but even with that he had almost no contact with him besides the first few days? He was on his own, alone again.

— Ironically, I think he actually worked for a post office. It’s the only job he could find.

— Both his physical and mental state got way worse. He’s never been a really healthy person, but still tried to take care of himself at least a bit. Going out only when heavily necessary and, after a while, not even going to work anymore. That's when he really ran out of money and got the terrifying letter: he got evicted of his “safe place”. Was his house even a safe place at this point? He couldn’t feel safe anywhere anymore.

He could have called Uncle Dave, but at this point? He was just so disconnected with reality he didn’t know what to do.

★ P2 saw him fall and had no idea of what to do at this point. He was tired of trying to help him so he just ignored. P1 felt so bad that, even if he find P2 annoying at times it was the last thing he needed, the last familiar thing he had disappeared hurts him to the core.

— [ tw // mentions of self-harm ] Even if writing in his journal really helped him to calm down during bad days it doesn’t mean he didn’t do other more harmful things to himself when he was at his worst. Before moving to Paradise he handled it better, he was able to tone it down pretty much since he moved from his parent’s house, but after everything got so overwhelming again? He doesn’t know any better. And the worst part of it? Finds it both comforting and thinks that he deserves all this suffering. For everything. For moving away from his parents, maybe they were right after all. For being a bad christian, God, if he hasn’t done it already, would probably turn his back the day he has to pass Heaven's gates. For after being so happy and having friends and thinking he was getting better and how he throwed all out the windows. It’s all his fault, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to do anything, not even therapy, and cannot call his friends. Nothing. The world’s still going on without him. He just feels like when he was a kid, but worse.

★ And here’s where he appears: the Other Dude (to me not the same as P3). He’s shows him his most intrusive thoughts, those who make him feel sick. OD slowly persuaded him to do horrible things not to himself, but the others. He’s twisted and manipulated everything, every little hope he had. P1 confused P2 with OD at this point, and was the one who made P1 get out of his house after a really long time, but with a gun in his hand, ready to kill everybody who made him feel so miserable and worthless. At this point he’s just gone.

At first, ironically, P2 tried to get in the middle of it, a bit confused of what or who OD was. Why he was so similar to himself? How long has he been there? But even OD persuaded him at some point.

Both P1 and P2 were tired of the way they were living and feeling. So why not change it?

I’m not sure who’s the one who got out of the house ready to cause a massacre, if P1, P2 or OD, but the thing is they all agreed at some point.

— I know this is going to be a bit weird, but I don’t think the whole game stages are real? It sounds weird, but let me explain: you really think a guy who has been locked inside his house for so long, having horrible hallucinations, almost no sleep (and if he had any, probably full of nightmares), not taking care of himself is really going to go too far? It does not matter how many weapons he may carry, it’s practically impossible.

Maybe the first 2 or 3 stages, but not much more before the police/militars/whoever it was got him at some point. The others only happened in his head, his mind going ahead of him, overthinking, and lately, his guilt getting over him.

By this I’m not saying he’s less of a horrible person, he did what he did and it’s sickening, it does not matter how bad he was feeling, killing people who have nothing to do with you and your problems is not the answer. Even if they were the cause, it’s not the solution.

— Leaving aside that all the “Postal” games are usually a parodies of real life and black humor (asides from the first game and “Postal Redux”) and taking it for something more serious, I don’t think “Postal Dude” it’s the name of the Postal Dude.

It was a nickname given both by the survivors of the massacre and the media.

— Also, after what he did he was everywhere. In the newspapers, in the TV, in the radio. That’s how Uncle Dave and the group of friends he had back in the city he lived before found out. But how could he? He was such a nice, quiet guy… he wouldn’t hurt a fly!

His group of friends, who since he moved without saying anything, didn’t pick up their calls and in general ignored them and decided it was for the best to just let it be.

Uncle Dave, on the other side he was worried. What the hell happened during all those years they were separated? It couldn’t be something he decided overnight, there had to be something more, right?

— He got his hair shaved at the asylum. After that he didn’t had it that long in his whole life.

— He got locked in the asylum, and being locked in there, alone again with his thoughts, it was dead of him. Metaphorically speaking.

★ P1 went dormant, refusing to think of what he has done, or at least accepted to do. He couldn't take all that blame, it was impossible. Every time he remembers it he wants to puke. He now really want to be dead. There’s no way he can redeem himself from that, God definitely has abandoned him. OD also disappeared. He just provoked all of this and now what? He accomplished what he wanted, where is he? He bring out the worst part of P1, was he trying to corrupt him and breaking him was not in the plan or was the plan breaking him from the start?

Whatever it was left P2 alone, also feeling guilty of what he has done. He does not feel as bad as P1 but he also cannot feel happy as OD probably feels. What they’ve done it’s horrible, but how OD manipulated them to do it? Even worse. Even for P2 whose morality is more gray-ish than P1s.

He hates it, he’s locked in there with the hallucinations and barely speaks to P1 because he’s completely broken and refuses to do so. Now it’s the other way around. He’s growing resentful to him too for that, they’re both cupid, can he at least make him some company? Like he did when P1 was a child too? It’s unfair.

He has something clear though: if OD ever shows his ass again he will NOT let get on him like he did. And even if he’s annoyed at P1, not even him.

— After some time Uncle Dave brings himself to visit him. At first it was so grim. Dude felt so horrible for his actions he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him, but after some more visits, therapy and meds he started to light up a really tiny bit. It was something.

★ It was not really him, P1 was pretty much not wanting to know anything from the external world, it was P2 who decided to take the lead. P1 didn’t wanted to live anymore? Fine, he would take his chance then. To live the life he never could since he’s always been on P1 mind, rarely being the one in control.

Maybe he was pretending, or maybe he genuinely wanted to get better, but the thing was: he wanted to get out of there, if there was a chance to do so, he would try it. At first do what the workers said, and if that didn’t work he would escape. He does not care. He wants to try to live.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

okay I got a bit too carried away- I’m sorry-

hope you liked them! I’m not really skilled nor do I have practice when it comes to creating headcanons about characters even if I have a few ideas.

I’m thinking about posting a few more in a future,, but school work is killing me-

[peligrosapop]

I can’t sleep and have a headache, I’m in pain and sober ( weed would help 2/3 at the least)for some stupid reason. So, I’ll rant.

I went skating (as in skateboard) yesterday

did my first ever 50-50 trick (skate trick) at 40

but also pulled a muscle in my upper thigh and I’m limping a bit and it hurts. (Hi, It’s me, Pedri without free accessible healthcare)

A girl flirted/hit on me and I can’t thinking about it bc, maybe I liked the attention? and she’s cute? I get plenty of attention at home though, dunno wtf is going on.

I forgot to call my mom on her bday but I called her today and we talked like an hour and it was nice. I like my mom a lot. I don’t want her to die, ever. My dad’s death anniversary was last week and I just realized yesterday. None of us surviving family members said anything either, guess we rather forget.

The call with mom also made me realize I barely call anyone anymore, ever. Last time my older sister called I didn’t pick up and have ghosted her since. I told my mom I’m being anti social atm. I need to call my pregnant younger sister. I guess I’m the asshole.

I text with a lot of people that I don’t know IRL and have neglected a lot of my IRL friends. I even have neglected online friends I like a lot. I still chat people a bit too much, I’m afraid.

I think my current obsession with Barça on tumblr and tumblr in general helps me focus on something else but myself when I’m stuck creatively or emotionally.

I need to finish writing 4 songs that I started and are almost done. One about staring at your crush, one about dreaming of people that have passed away, one about Messi (in the most non-obvious way) and one about leaving everything behind to move somewhere else to remake your life. It is annoying to feel like I can’t when I’m perfectly able to. They are 80-90% done.

Right now I’m in between jobs doing some gigs and the break in routine and extra time to do fun stuff things has been , instead of being liberating, weird.

My fav girl friend has been really busy lately and I fucking hate it. I feel needy. And I hate it.

My boyfriend is amazing, thank god he’s there. My bff. I am a mess rn. He was trolling me a week ago saying “I read this list of symptoms of depressed people and you checked out most of them” and I laughed at him and he was like 😅. I’m not depressed. It’s okay. I have depressive tendencies from anxiety but that’s it. I’m a hedonist most of the time, anyway. 🤣 Very few fucks given but active existencial dread.

My health/body has been changing since I hit 40 and it’s pissing me off. Also I kinda stop caring care of myself for a second but getting back on track. Also need to start saving money for all the “hey you hit 40 so you may have this” health test, like cancer screenings and shit. But hey, better old than dead.

and….I need a hug. And to write poems but they won’t come out. I don’t need anyone to do anything. I just need to get it out of my system.

I wish you were here and not so far away, you know this. I punched my pillow today like I told you I wanted to. I wish it was easier.

We had a friend as a house guest for a week and he just left today without telling us, even though he was supposed to be here 2 more weeks and now he said he is with a dude we don’t talk to anymore. lol wtf is wrong with people?! can’t they be normal?!!!! You can say you wanna go see a friend, why just disappear and tell us a one like text when we asked where the fuck you are. He may come back? I dunno ahahahah. Maybe its our bad for having a bunch of moody musicians as friends.

Also, like my bf jokes all the time….when I die, be happy for me because I won’t have to pay any more bills.

Maybe this was too real but IDGAF. The end.

[reinathevocaloid]

My Thoughts On The Act II Ending

AKA Why art cannot thrive under capitalism

I’ve been a major fan of Daiya No Ace/ Ace of Diamond since 2014, and I will forever be grateful that Terajima has created all of these wonderful characters who I love and cherish very much! This series will always be one of my favorites regardless of whether Terajima continues it in the future or not. Despite being such a long series filled with hundreds of characters, Daiya consistently has excellent writing, and is one of the few stories where I’ve found myself caring about almost all the characters (including the side characters) because they are all written uniquely and realistically. Also, it’s one of the few stories where I’ve legit read everything rather than simply skipping some chapters. But, this is all exactly why the current ending has left me feeling disappointed. So many plot threads have been left hanging, which includes the major ones that many fans have been pointing out: Eijun’s injury and the lack of summer Koshien. But, the biggest one for me is the current relationship limbo between Eijun and Miyuki. Regardless of whether you ship it or not, their relationship is the core of the series. Terajima himself stated that Daiya started because of Eijun meeting Miyuki rather than Eijun’s moving fastball or anything else. With that in mind, it feels incredibly unsatisfying for the story to end with so much left unsaid and so much miscommunication between the two. They both admire and believe in each other (and it consistently baffles me how many fans somehow miss this fact) but they still have no idea. The thing is, I’m sure Terajima is aware of all this. Besides being an excellent writer, he has stated in recent posts that he stopped not because he felt like the story had reached a conclusion but because he felt drained.  For 16 years, he has had to consistently churn out chapter after chapter of this series. Combined with how some fans constantly bash on his writing choices, it’s not surprising that he would lose the mental health necessary to continue. And, it just reminds me how messed up our current world is. We all live in societies that teach us that everything NEEDS to have a price. That people won’t do anything if there’s no money involved. This, however, is completely untrue since people worked together for thousands of years before monetary systems were invented. If humans didn’t naturally care about others and about doing things on their own, we wouldn’t be here in the first place because civilizations wouldn’t have developed. Not to mention the sheer amount of fanart, fanfiction, and other free things people create and do simply because they are passionate about something. Most of the best pieces of art were created because the person cared about it rather than because they needed money to survive, which is why swansongs of shows, movies, and games tend to save franchises more than a consistent slog of mediocre titles in order to meet a paycheck.  In the end, our current world has brainwashed people into thinking that art is something that has to be CONSUMED. That works of art are created for consumers to purchase, which leads to constant mainstream nonsense that’s made to please everyone and thus doesn’t truly connect or mean anything to anyone (examples of this is the large amount of spaghetti westerns back in the day and the superhero movies that are releasing now). Art should be created so that the artist can express their thoughts, feelings, and stories. This means that if you like that piece of art, that’s great, but that’s not the point. When I encounter a work of art that I don’t like, I’m still glad that it exists because the art will likely connect with someone else. Similarly to how I absolutely love certain shows, movies, and games that others hate, the things I hate are likely loved by someone else, and that’s how it should be. So, when people bash on works of art (like how fans have complained about Terajima’s work) it just demonstrates to me that they see his work as something that is meant to be made specifically for them to consume rather than something Terajima has made for himself. And this thought process is further exasperated by him being forced to create consistently all the time just to ensure that he can continue to survive in this world. If we lived in a world where people could create art without having to worry about making a living or catering to consumer expectations, the art would be richer and more complete. Instead we live in a world where artists are constantly burnt out and left with unfinished pieces that could’ve been so much more.  TLDR: I hope that Terajima will continue Daiya one day so that the loose threads could be resolved, but I understand that the immense pressure and mental strain of creating art in our current societies is impossibly unfair. I’m glad we have what we have, and I hope he gets some nice needed rest.

[leatherbookmark]

nnnngh i'm repeating myself but also

while musically this trilogy has been Alright -- not the best, hi maison, but definitely Solid especially in the b-side department -- conceptually... yeah. the "save the earth before it's too late" concept is a good and interesting one -- let alone making a whole trilogy centered around it, let alone as a girl group! the n/f/t thing sort of ruined it for everyone a bit, but honestly whoever sincerely believes kpop groups and kpop companies are going to be serious about activism is an idealist, to be polite. they're here to make money and also music. BUT. it just felt so... idk, disjointed? not fully there?

the dystopia trilogy at least had the "tree of language" bit, the thing that started a tiny little story and let the audience know what the comebacks are going to be about. and it tied scream and odd eye neatly! sure, they didn't achieve bts levels of sincerity in their lyrics (LET THEM WRITE LYRICSSSSS GOD), but the general meaning was there, and the story surprisingly ended badly. things are bad -> things shouldn't be bad -> well, we tried to find the ideal world where things wouldn't be bad but we failed. it was something!

but i feel like the apocalypse trilogy just... dropped the ball on more than one front. it doesn't even live up to its name! even if you don't associate the word "apocalypse" with darker, heavier and more guitarry sound, the first album literally had together, cherry and playground on it -- they're poppy and cheerful! come on! vision was a turn in the right direction -- once again the lyrics talk about mobilizing yourself and picking up the fight, hell yeah!, and fairytale was absolutely stellar, but on the other hand the rap quality and the number of actual songs on the album dropped, which only made the obligatory mellow piano ballad more irritating. but hey, onwards to the final part...! and the final part is. a love song.

don't get me wrong, i love bon voyage with all my heart in its gorgeous melancholic-yet-full-of-energy glory. but it's a love song. someone said it's a song about leaving the person you love for the greater good? to do your duties and save the world? but like, man, i don't get this from the lyrics. it's a love song from the point of view of someone who tries to leave because they have scars, faults, bad experiences under their belt, but despite everything they still can't, and keep on imagining the future they could share with their loved one.

this... would be something, definitely, if there was at least some sort of introduction, if the previous two title tracks weren't manifesto-type songs to Everyone. if the mvs showed deukae not just as cool warriors with superpowers fighting (?) some kind of enemy (?), but also real people with feelings and attachments -- for example to each other! everyone and their grandma is doing lore, but for example bts and currently ateez have those little diary things where members(' characters) write down their adventures. we're trying to change the past! overthrow the oppressive regime! while having our own problems, fears, people we worry about! holy shit, what happened to yeosang! and it would've really worked well with deukae! i don't really care about lore that much myself, but perhaps it could keep the fans occupied between comebacks and render references actually meaningful rather than "oh hey, this is the same dance move/similar (something) as in (mv title)!".

but it's just not there, and instead the trilogy is just a mess. sure, you've got a fucking. furry cell mascot out of absolutely nowhere, and yoohyeon is on a horse, and sua is jumping real high to... grab a pigeon mid-flight? but how does it actually connect to the story? what's going on? back in vision, dami was doing Something, was she a spy? in this mv, gahyeon is doing Something to the barrier, will she succeed? we just don't know! and it's irritating. the mv is just a slideshow of unfairly pretty shots, but they're pretty for the sake of being pretty and nothing else. we've gone a Long way since chase me, and while the budget sure is bigger... yeah, chase me and other older title track mvs actually kept you watching, because you were wondering where it would all lead. there's some guy! that's creepy! horror imagery! this is vaguely disturbing! where are they going with this? now it's just... oh she's pretty. oh she's pretty. oh she's pretty. that's it. and honestly, it's not like this is bon voyage's invention, deukae mvs have been steadily losing plot elements for a good while, but this mv is like... the epitome. yoohyeon's on a horse.

IF they're not breaking the... well, it's only two albums, so you can't call it a "tradition", but if they're not going to break the barely-there-tradition of special mini albums between the eras, their next comeback will be one and i'm already wondering what it's going to be. especially considering it's probably going to come out in like... november, and that's already fair into the Dark Part Of The Year, spooky season etc, so if they want to give us a darker sister of BEcause, i'm all ears, eyes etc.

[jimmycartersufo]

this is me having the Tuesday foh museum employee version of Sunday scaries. I love using tumblr as a sort of diary right now especially when writing my hand causes pain!

the last two weeks of work have been especially rough and this week I have some tough stuff to get through that I'm nervous about but it'll be OK. I just struggled with the unknown. time always moves too quickly this time of year and I'm desperate to hold on to my days off because I am so burnt out. the problem is when you're in between those biweekly checks and you're broke as hell but also it's been pouring down rain. I can't help but feel bad and guilty when I do nothing. I didn't do just nothing, I took care of my mom today and I've rested a lot but it still feels weird and bad.

I'm almost back to being in the green for my sick time. I used up all my sick time and my boss had payroll give me negative sick time which was a life saver. I miss my boss so much. everything has gone to shit without her. but she deserves so much better. clearly. anyway, in a couple weeks I'll start to see actual sick time build up again. and on July 1 I'll get more pto 🤡 but thankfully at least Juneteenth falls on a Wednesday so we will have a three day weekend. The museum won't pay it's workers more or respect their security dept (which is historically and systematically Black) but they will do land acknowledgements if they happen to put up a work by a Native person (aka no permanent land acknowledgement lol) and they'll give us Juneteenth off with pay. oh and back of house gets more pto than foh but I'm not here to list alllllll of my complaints rn. but we as a team are counting down the days so we can have a three day weekend. like yeah holiday pay on a day we already have off (every gov holiday that falls on a Monday) but would rather have a floating holiday for more pto. abyway I should hopefully have some sick time built up in a couple months to take a day off for rest.

falling behind on chores again. desp need to spring clean dust because ofc I have to be a maximalist autistic. still need to wash my beach combing finds from a few weeks ago. still need to hang stuff up. the most I can do is pick up a little. do a load of laundry but share the labor with my husband because we don't have the capacity for either or alone. do dishes maybe. make breakfast, lunch, and John makes dinner. take care of mom which is hard sometimes but more than anythjng it has to be done and I can trick my brain into not being an asshole about it. make the bed but in a more "lazy" way. take care of myself and stick to my barely there routine. medicine with alarms, brush teeth, set out the clothes I want to wear at least a day ahead but two days if possible. shower when it's been too long. lotion on my face and my arms and my legs if I can tolerate it. drink water. try and keep my salt levels up. stretches even if it's in bed. my daily puzzles. learn something new (read an article and or a wiki page).

at least tomorrow we get paid. I have to save money for when we go to an Orioles game soon. need to figure out when and how and where we are viewing the eclipse. grocery shopping. taking care of mom if dad is working late/in traffic. look over what bills are do this check. thankfully we get paid I think three times this month? JK it's may we get three paychecks but thankfully I get paid the week of my mom's birthday!!!!!!

I work on late shift this month. bad because no extra money but good because I am so fucking exhausted. I'm basically a sorta manager without all the manager roles and Def not the pay. but that's basically what I am now. thinking about it makes me sick. I goofed up somewhere to end up here with this responsibility. but also it was happenstance. I understand that. and that I have been masking so well for so long.

it's autism awareness day. I am autistic. I am finally feeling right with that. it's been over a year now, and I've spent that time reflecting on my life and the way I am. I was lucky that my sister has been in programs and I basically knew a guy that knew a guy that knew a guy. but I don't have like, a therapist or anthring to guide me through the realities of hey you're autistic and this is why you think and do xyz. I wish I listened to autistic friends years ago that said hey you're autistic and I was like no not me, I don't do this thing but the thing is a lot of those things I didn't think I did I literally did not understand the questioning which is funny. I can't really think of a good example but like you read a question like do you struggle to make eye contact and irs like yes but only in certain circumstances like when I don't know someone but you don't have the way to answer with nuances so you just say no. not the best example but it's like that. what's so interesting about being diagnosed late is you start to kind a breakdown the safety nets of masking and then it seems like you're faking because you're doing all this stuff not in private anymore, like you're regressing or something and it's like no I was just playing a role.

today for dinner I had chicken nuggets and heinz pickle ketchup and we watched a video about being in wdw on 9/11 and I was like oh

rigut now I'm trying to follow my night routine but I'm so anxious to sleep. I did sleep in really late today after sleeping poorly and then getting up to take care of mom in the morning. I woke up just before noon after going back to bed about nine???? so I'm not very tired. I'm going to go figure out my lunch for tomorrow so I don't worry about it in the am and then I'm going to check the laundry and if it's dry enough get my favorite pair of undies (tomboyx boy shorts) and my favorite pants (green!!) and find a top and then make the bed comfy and then I'm gonna use my new neck massager even though I've probably used it too much today and I hope to find a nice wiki article to read :)))))))

[180oz]

wanted to start posting updates of my life even though nobody is really reading 😫. ive been having a really tough time and i need some positivity in my life to look back on when i feel down or unmotivated. I just want to stop being scared of the world and start taking better actions i can feel proud of 🥺❤️

im actually kind of excited, which i dont feel often!? 2024 feels like its going to be my year. i want to take care of myself and really work on my mental health which needs a lot of love and pampering and big hugs and smooches right now muah 😘

sometimes i forget that i am only 24 and that my life shouldn’t be given up on just yet. I always had this lingering feeling that i would die early based on my mental state or something else happening. even if i was to die early, i want to know that i lived a good life even if it was for a couple of years. i would rather die knowing that i accomplished some very cool things ive always wanted to do than die knowing i stayed the same person for the rest of my life. i want to die happier than i was last year or today.

some small things i want to do this year (some of them will sound very silly and miniscule):

1. bake something from a recipe i saved on youtube

2. post more art on tumblr, especially my OCs and fan art of shows i used to enjoy. learn more art tricks and tips so i can replicate the way i exactly imagine my art to be like !!

3. find a good job for the summer, hopefully one that is full time and i can make good connections and money with 🥺

4. finish this semester knowing i did my best to go to the library and study as much as i can! hopefully pass with a 3.8 overall (i have never gotten over a 3.1 overall since i started university a couple years ago…so lets see where this goes

5. find something i’m very passionate about as i get close to finishing my degree.

6. do more activities with current friends and make new friends

7. make some cool nail art with my polygel nail kit

8. move out of campus dorms and into an apartment with friends this year.

9. start writing again and work on my webcomic

10. learn japanese again so i can visit my friends in japan and impress them with how much ive improved!!

11. learn front end development

12. eat healthy full meals instead of skipping them and snacking throughout the day

13. be the positive happy and kind girl i miss being! ever since i had started going to uni here, my attitude has gotten worse and i feel like i am a bit too mean and sensitive now, but no more of that !

14. get my learners!

15. grow and pamper my lovely natural hair

i dont think this is all but i think its a good start while i make an official goals list for 2024💪🏾

[riverdamien]

Endless Shadow

Our Endless Shadow!

This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends" (John 15:12-13). NRSVue

=====================

On this day, May 12, many  years ago, my second year in seminary, I was driving home from my rural church's youth group on a rainy night. My car slid off the road, killing, Stacy, 15, and injuring myself. An accident that haunted me for years.

Several days later a minister friend shared with me some advice that has never left my mind:

"In time you will have two decisions you are faced with:

1. Continue in the ministry, close yourself into the institution, never question anything else in live;

2. Let yourself loose, questioning, challenge, everything and do something crazy like another friend who suffered a similar situation: he went out and raced cars with young adults."

Ultimately the second was chosen, bringing freedom of living a life of ministry, looking at all sides. A life of good mental health.

In Evie Yoder Miller's book, Volume 1: Shadows, Scruples on the Line, Miller presents a nation at the beginning, and the next two years of the Civil War, as divided in so many ways, culturally,

politically, religious  belief with many, many different denominations.  Jumping a 160 plus years later we see the same in our society.

Character, J. Fritz-Chicago, responding to a partners comments:

. . .He would rather talk about a new repeating rifle being made to kill more people, rather than discuss freeing slaves. .

...white people specifically are supposed to save the world.. .when death comes they go to a higher place."

He still believed "making money is a sacred trust, do it to the best of your ability. ."

I am sitting in the midst of "Toast" restaurant as I write, and around me people are simply talking,  about money or politics! Not much has changed!

This book is an excellent start to a three volume series.

My own resulting life from the aftermath of Stacie's death were horrible. At the time the Church simply wanted me to move, finish school, and "be strong" as an example to others.

Two quotes come to mind as I remember that time, and the journey through the years:

"Resilience is the ability to brush off pain," Kristen Roupenion,"

and James Baldwin:

"You can not love, without until you truly love yourself within."

Mental health is made up of these two quotes, and

and working with others with them. We all have a shadow, and we need to work on it all the time!

Happy Mental Health Month!

Happy Our Lady of Mary Month!

==========================

a blessing for those who care about strangers

What a waste.

That wasn’t going to get you a nicer apartment.

Bless those who give their health in service of patients who might not even deserve it.

What if that patient took unnecessary risks or was selfish or was never going to say thank you? You could have been protecting yourself or God forbid, sleeping through the night.

Bless those who listen to long, winding stories from lonely hearts.

Instead of rushing off to more interesting friends.

You picked boredom or patience instead of the warmth of being known.

That was your time and you’re never going to get it back.

Bless those who loved people who weren’t grateful.

The sick who endangered your health,

The deeply boring, who know you have things to do.

Loving people can be the most meaningful thing in the world, but it can also be hard and scary and boring and disgusting or sad or anxiety inducing with zero overtime.

Thank you to all those who make these bad investments.

Those acts of love that are not going to add up to success in the way that the world sees it.

You, my darling, are the definition of love.

This blessing was inspired by my conversation with nurse and writer Christie Watson

#######

Fr. River Damien Sims, D.Min., D.S.T.

P.O. Box 642656

San Francisco, CA 94164

punkpriest1@gmail.com

415-305-2124

River's Creed:

"I write  because this is the way I protest".

Ministry on the streets is the way I resist, dong what I can to proclaim the Gospel of Love to every human being with out judgment."

"Now I hand down to  you what has been revealed to me: that Christ died for our sins according to the scriptures and he was raised on the third day according to the scriptures."

[mtnkat3]

"Time"

So tired of daylight saving time changes!

But I'm more tired of being away from, separated from, my soul's precious Beloved Bears .. my Angels!!!

I just .. when I woke up & was trying to figure out my phone vs clocks I also was thinking about..where would I be if wh on 4.14.22 had acted like a grown up. Months. Time. He has been cackling that he has stopped my life from restarting. I wanna scream bloody murder!

But. I also know thst God has utilized the time to help me grow. It pains me to no end though! Because I feel ..well.. hard to describe & hate doing so here! Rather in my writings to my mates! But I feel sick. Body & soul. That I have wasted years of my life because I didn't listen closely enough to God. But my prison is almost over. I can only pray that God & my soul's precious beloved Bears .. to me Angels! can, & want, to forgive me. For not seeing wh for what he truly is in 1998. A monster. But, as my counselor has said, I didn't know how to look at life properly as a young woman. Because having been a neglected & abused child I was trained to look for love incorrectly. Hard to explain without delving into. Anyways. I am now looking for how to retrain my brain as far as having good relationships. Of all kinds. From friendships, heart family, to my soul's connections to it's mates . I don't want to be the type of person hurting other people. It hurts me to hurt other people! I'm just not the type of person to enjoy seeing other people suffer! I tend to want to take those woes upon myself & remove that burden from those I care about! I know.. I know.. it's inappropriate guilt. Responsiblity that isn't mine. Something I have to work on. But that is my big old marshmallow heart & soul.

So right now.. I'm in a holding pattern.

Starting to spend money I don't think I should have to, but doing what I'm supposed to takes priority. God will keep Guiding me & that's what matters. I am getting the supplies I need to pack & organize. Narrowing down apartments, short term leases. Finding mental therapy to be helping, but I have to work it continuously. I also am looking for exercises to rebuild my shoulder structure, not sure if its impingement, happened when I was ~8~9yo but I cannot open my fingers properly for a chord. I have to find the container/ trailer chassis to store my stuff & move.. wherever I'm supposed to. Heck, I've looked at hydroponics towers for growing vegetables whilst in an apartment! So I can have non GMOs healthy food that I nurtured myself! I've looked at steamers & all kinds of things. But mostly, I want to life & eat better! Yes, I have a sweet tooth as big as my head! But between making things more healthier & exercising. I can be healthy, & have fun! Its all about balance.

I am not here for any other reason than because this is how God is allowing me to be talking tonmy mates .. I believe I do in my writings too but I want you to hear me.. I love you . I am here to talk to you. No other reason. I don't want to entertain anyone. These posts are not even cathartic. They are exposing my vulnerability & opening myself up to my mates mental dominance rather than other peoples ridicule. I don't like writing here. I'd rather talk to you! Be in your face. And yes, I mean that literally. Sometimes, that's what it takes. So that you can see into my soul thru my eyes. Only you .. can truly read & understand me. You .. are all I want & more.

Ok. I'm feeling very exposed now. Time to go do my meds, clocks, work..

I miss you .

Fiercely. Like I'm nauseous & my chest hurts being apart. Like I wanna take my head & stick it in my happy place & give all the struggles to God!

But I have to. I must. Work. & await. But I'm tired of being a model t dang it! I wanna show I'm the starship Voyager! Healthy curves... & move like smoooootth.... like a 69 stingray with a 502.. grin.

I love you .

Know it. Feel it. Hold it to your soul.. until I am in your arms..

I believe. God. Love. Miracles. Magic. You. Us. Me...

I won't ever give up.

~True love never dies & true love always waits.~

On my cliffside..

Your humbled, bowed, impatiently patient.. complex, quirky, warrior queen daughter.

~Tijgeress kat Phoenix. 🌺🐾✝️

☔😥😖🙊🙈🙉🤓👩⚓🙏🙇‍♀️🌂🔗⛓🧰⚙🏗🧱⚒🛠⚔⚖🗽🥧🍁🧣🥾🍋🥤🥨🥮🍯🍼☕🍫🍎🍑🍒🐯🐾🐐🦉🐢🐛🦋🌱🌺🌹🌻🌷🌳🧶🧵⌚💡⚡🌠🚀🗝🔱⚜💝🐻🦌🧩♠️♾🎯🧭🕯🎶💋

Su.11.6.2022 10.26am est!

Daylight saving time sucks!

[little-girl-big-world]

the new house. 

We have moved into our new place and it is incredible!!! it is impossible to not feel content, it is light, spacious, warm, modern, the list goes on. I actually have nothing bad to say about it, the location is also so good. Fitzroy, East Melbourne and Collingwood are all so close. We have bottle shop below, Maccas on the corner, Smith Street 2 seconds away and Fitzroy Gardens across the road. I am unbelievably happy. I never thought the change of an environment would impact my mood so much. It is like I am on medication and things that made me down or sad feel like they are just touch the surface. I have a spacious room with the bed in the middle of the room!! Life changing. I have a built in robe, sun flushes into my bedroom. I have new lemon sheets, that feel so creamy to sleep in. The living area is big and spacious, so much room for activities. Everyday just feels dreamy and like we are in a film, you just cannot beat it.

We have candles, flowers, music playing, muesli in the oven. I am so grateful!!! I actually want to be at home and when I am at home I feel calm and relaxed. The best decision we have ever made. But it is also good because if I hadn't have lived at Egan St, I don't think we would have appreciated this place as much as we do. It is so nice to actually want to invite people over and spend time in the space rather than feel like we need to escape. It is so nice to feel so content, and learn to slow down. We have a bath!! So that will help. I don't even know what else to write other than the fact that I am so happy in this new place. I don't even care that I am paying an extra 100 dollars more a week, it is 100% worth it. It makes us want to be clean and actually look after the place. I actually think I will save money by going out less because I will want to be here. Just great.

I had my second therapy appointment on Monday. And it was good, I am learning more and more about myself everyday and I can feel the maturity seeping out of me, it is a great feeling, almost an unexplainable feeling. I am going to keep going because I never think therapy can be overdone or not needed. Having a neutral voice to talk to is so good and it helps me release things without having to pile it on my friends who have their own things to worry and think about.

I can tell I am feeling good because I was let down with a date last night, the guy never replied about the time and I was disappointed but not sad. It was so good. I am learning to not let things get me down as much, it is like I am building a thick skin and it feels so liberating. I am learning to embrace the single life and feel happy with my friends and who I am as a person and it is also so liberating!!

So in short, I am good, life is good. HOW GOOD. Lets hope it stays, life isn't that deep and life is short so it should be enjoyed :)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The doctrine of dynastic wealth

The biggest news story of the moment Propublica's reporting on the Secret IRS Files, a trove of leaked tax data on the wealthiest people in America that show that they pay effectively no tax, through perfectly legal means.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/15/guillotines-and-taxes/#carried-interest

The Bootlicker-Industrial Complex has completely missed the point of this reporting and its followup, like the revelation that an ultrarich candidate for Manhattan DA was able to pay no tax in many years where her family booked millions in revenue.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/17/quis-custodiet-irs/#trumps-taxes

The apologists for super-rich tax-evaders lean heavily on the fact that America has a tax-code that substantially reduces the spending power (and thus political power) of people who work for a living, while enhancing the wealth of those who own things for a living.

The rich are obeying the law, so there is nothing wrong here. But what Propublica documented is that America has a different set of laws for the super-rich than for the merely rich, and that these laws are in a wholly different universe from the laws for the rest of us.

It's another example of America's unequal justice system - a subject that includes long prison sentences for crack possession and wrist-slaps for powder cocaine, long jail terms created by the cash bail system, and a host of other race- and class-based inequities.

It's more proof, in other words, that America isn't a republic where we are all equal before the law, but rather a caste system where inherited privileges determine how the law binds you, how it punishes you and how it protects you.

One person well-poised to describe how this system perpetuates itself is Abigail Disney, granddaughter of Roy Disney and great-niece of Walt Disney, inheritor of a vast family fortune shielded from tax by a generation-skipping trust contrived solely to avoid taxation.

Writing in The Atlantic, the heiress describes how she was inducted and indoctrinated into the system of American dynastic wealth, surrounded by brilliant accountants who treated their exotic financial vehicles as completely ordinary.

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2021/06/abigail-disney-rich-protect-dynastic-wealth-propublica-tax/619212/

Personally, these financial enablers were "decent, good, kind men," and they gave Disney 40 years' worth of gospel about protecting the capital, growing it, and passing it on to the next generation.

As a credible 21 year old, Disney had no frame of reference. The creation of a dynastic, ever-growing fortune through legal but frankly bizarre accounting fictions was treated as normal.

To the extent that these tactics raised any doubts, they were addressed through doctrine: the idea that government bureaucrats can't be trusted to spend money wisely.

Disney doesn't say this, but a common trope in these discussions is that the government is ever tempted to give money to poor people, and must be protected from this impulse.

This racism and classism are dressed up as "meritocracy" - the tautology that the rich are worthy, the worthy are rich, and anyone who isn't rich is therefore unworthy.

In the first generation, this doctrine is merely sociopathic, but when passed on to a new generation, it is eugenic. Walt and Roy demonstrated their worth by founding a studio and navigating it through the challenges of the market, and that is why the market made them rich.

But their children - and grandchildren - didn't get their wealth by founding or running a studio. They got their wealth by emerging from the correct orifice. If their wealth is deserved, those deserts are a matter of blood, not toil.

In other words, they were born to be rich, not just as a matter of sound tax planning, but as a matter of genetic destiny. They are part of a hereditary meritocracy.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/13/data-protection-without-monopoly/#inequality

Disney describes what it's like to be indoctrinated into the hereditary meritocracy: her family told her that the appearance of philanthropy is good, but actually giving money to poor people is a foolish enterprise, "unseemly and performative."

And they urged her to marry her own class, "to save yourself from the complexity and conflict that come with a broad gulf in income, assets, and, therefore, power." Power should be in the hands of "successful" people, because they know how to wield it.

Accept this ideology and you will be showered with wonderful gifts: like private jet trips, which quickly become necessities ("once you’ve flown private, wild horses will never drag you through a public airport terminal again").

It's a subject that is well-documented in Mike Mechanic's 2021 book JACKPOT, on the daily lives, dysfunctions, and above all, ideology of the super-rich:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/13/public-interest-pharma/#affluenza

As to the seductiveness of the ideology, I had my own experience with the "decent, good, kind" professionals of the finance sector. When I moved to London in 2003, I opened a checking account at Barclays, a giant high-street bank.

I quickly discovered that part of Barclays' legendary profitability came from understaffing its branches; when I had to see a teller, I could end up waiting in line for an hour.

When I complained about this, a teller told me that for a nominal annual sum, I could get a "premier" account that came with a host of benefits, including priority tellers. I signed up and was inducted into the premiership by my branch manager.

He asked me if I needed any help with tax preparation, and boy did I ever. I was filing tax returns in Canada, the US, California, and the UK - it was a mess: not just expensive but confusing, and I couldn't make heads or tails of the paperwork.

A week later, a very smartly turned out Barclays "tax specialist" came by the academic research center where I'd borrowed a desk to meet with me. She was wildly excited to discover that I was on a work visa and not a UK citizen.

She told me that this made me eligible to become a "non-dom" - someone living in the UK, but not "domiciled" there - and therefore not subject to any tax at all.

She laid out a whole plan for me: I could establish residence in one of the Channel Islands (Jersey, I think?), incorporate a shell company there, and continue to get free health care from the NHS, use the public roads, etc - all without paying a penny to HM Exchequer.

And when I was ready to buy a house, the whole thing would only get better: I could buy it through the shell company, reverse-mortgage it, rent it to myself, take fabulous deductions on the way, and pass it on tax-free by transfering the shell company rather than the house.

It was dizzying, and I kept asking her to go back and explain it again. She assured me that it was legal and normal, what every non-Briton living in the UK should do, and really poured the pressure on.

It was weirdly spellbinding, like a wizard was demonstrating an interdimensional portal to me and asking if I wanted to go through it to a magical land - a magical land that "everyone else" was already visiting on the reg.

I told her I'd think about it. Five minutes after she left the office, I snapped out of the trance. I never called her back. I figured out my UK taxes.

But today, reading Disney's account of having reasonable-seeming, friendly experts tell you something bizarre and indefensible is normal, I was powerfully reminded of my own brush with the dynasty-creation industry.

[hello-everyfandom]

“I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

Warnings: Light swearing

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 3.9k

Summary: Your love language is Gift Giving

(This is apart of my series “Love Languages”, please check it out!)

“Close your eyes.”

“Should I be worried?” George asked quite warily. 

“Will you just-” you huffed, “Please?”

“At least let me know what I’ve done wrong before you jinx my tongue to the top of my mouth.” George jokingly pleaded.

“If you know what’s best for you,” you lowered your voice to match his joke, “you’ll close your eyes.”

“Alright, but I’m trusting you,” George placed a grin on his lips, the dimple of his left cheek becoming more and more prominent. 

“Now, hold out your hands,” you said feeling more and more excited.George hesitantly put his hands out in front of him and jokingly flinched when you touched him. His comedic flinch made you laugh as you scanned him over to ensure his eyes were shut. Satisfied with George’s compliance, you slowly reached into your bag to pull out a wrapped gift. When it was safely in his hands, George’s fingers crinkled around the wrapping paper. He opened his eyes and saw you looking excitedly from the gift in his hands and to his confused face. 

Instantly, George began to sweat. Had he forgotten an anniversary? Or a birthday? Or some other holiday? 

He cursed in his mind, fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Go on then!” you smiled, “open it!”

George looked uncertain as he slowly unwrapped the gift revealing a small box. He lifted the box to see a small shaped coin. “It’s... uh.” He asked, picking it up and fiddling it with his fingers.

“It’s a coin!” you giggled at his confused reaction, “I bought it when I was in Russia over the summer to visit my cousin at Durmstrang.

“Oh! It! It is a coin! I love it!” George moved to pull you in a hug before you chuckled and pushed him away.

“It’s not just a coin. It’s a coin that has been enchanted.” You pointed to the head on the coin, “When you flip it, it’ll tell you whether or not someone is near you. See?” You took it out of his hand and flipped it in your hand, immediately it flipped to Heads. “For pranking, yeah?”

George looked at the coin in wonder and then again at your adoring face. “I... I love it.” He put a hand on your cheek and leaned to press a loving kiss to your lips. “But, I...”

“What is it?” you asked, holding his hand to your cheek.

“I’m so sorry, love. I think I... I think I forgot our anniversary or birthday or... I don’t. I’m so unbelievably sorry!” George spewed out.

“What!” you exclaimed in surprise, “No! No, no. Our anniversary isn’t until October!” you began to laugh, “I just got you this because I saw it and thought of you!”

George let out a breath of relief before feeling tense once again, “But, I didn’t get you anything...”

You pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand, “I don’t expect you to! It was just something for my love, that’s all.” you looked up to see George’s concern written within his brows, “Really! I just got it for you because I thought it would be nice.”

George shook his worry and began to smile, “I love you, you know that?”

“Oh, I know. I’m the most glorious girlfriend in the entirety of the world.”

“And so humble as well.” George grinned before giving you another long kiss. 

George grew up with seven siblings. While he grew up with hand-me-downs and knitted clothing from his mother, you grew up on the richer side of the Wizarding World. He wasn’t used to receiving expensive gifts and frankly felt a little uncomfortable and insecure. All the gifts you had given him must have cost a fortune, something he would never truly acquire. And although he loved his family and his upbringing, he cannot help but feel shameful at the fact that he cannot shower you in gifts as you did to him. 

It began with a new quill, then some pranking supplies, and soon the smaller gifts like the flowers you collected for him and the ties you bought turned into new robes and wand adjustments from Olivander’s. He accepted them graciously and sometimes even refused gifts as they seemed to be too expensive. With your assurance, he took them with a smile on his face but his head hanging low. 

With your anniversary coming up, George could feel the hole in his pocket becoming larger and larger and the money he had saved up had gone to ensure the twins’ ability to start their own joke shop. 

“I have no idea what to get her,” George flopped down on the couch. 

Ginny, who was sat to his left, looked up from her book.“What do you mean?” She raised her eyebrow at her miserable older brother and looked to his twin who sat on his right.

“I mean,” George groaned and placed a hand over his eyes, “What do you get the most perfect girl in the world? What do you get her that she doesn’t already have?”

Fred began to laugh, “It’s happened, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, I think it has,” Ginny chimed in.

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

“Georgie, can’t you see?” Ginny grinned teasingly, “You’re whipped.”

“Like Mum’s Christmas cream, you’re entirely whipped,” Fred added.

George sat up instantly and looked at his siblings with annoyance, “Well, we already knew that!”

Fred and Ginny joined together in laughter, noting how George’s vein is popping out of his forehead. 

“Will you two stop your bloody, dumb, shitty teasing and just-” George groaned again and flopped back on the couch, “Help me?” He asked almost pathetically.

“How much did you want to spend?” Ginny asked, quieting her laughing.

“I don’t know! I just know that I don’t have enough.” George moaned.

“A necklace for the lady, perhaps?” Fred suggested making George shake his head.

“She’s already got enough necklaces and jewelry to fill an entire block on Diagonalley.”

“New quill?” Ginny added,

“No, she’s got her school supplies shipped from some store in America.”

Ginny and Fred began to suggest more and more things to which George either did not like because they were not “you” or because you already had them.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “What the hell can you buy?”

Fred thought for a moment, putting his fingers to his lip as he usually did deep in thought. “What if you don’t buy her a gift?”

“And what? Don’t get her anything at all?” George said sarcastically, “Good plan, you bellend.”

Fred reached over the arm of his chair and gave his twin a good wallop on the shoulder, “No, you dickhead. Don’t buy her anything.”

Ginny caught onto Fred’s idea and nodded, “That’s actually not a bad idea, Georgie, don’t buy her anything.”

“Hello??” George yelled, “Are you two not thinking right?”

“George, stop being a smart arse,” Ginny berated, “Get her something homemade instead.”

George opened one of his eyes to look at his sister who stared back at him in annoyance. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Ginny mocked, “Make her something.”

George groaned again making Ginny and Fred roll their eyes. “But I can’t make anything but dung bombs.”

“Then, you’re out of luck,” Ginny stood up, dusting off her pants. 

Before she could leave, George bolted up and grabbed her wrist. “Gin!” He yelled, “You know how to knit, yeah?”

“Uhm,” she looked to Fred for assistance, “I guess, Mum tried to teach me once, but I-”

“Brilliant!” George grinned, feeling his frustration seep away, “Then you’ll teach me!”

“Georgie,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “I don’t really even know how to knit myself, nevertheless be able to teach you.”

“But, you’ll help?” He asked, putting his puppy dog face on.

Ginny looked at her older brother, her weakness, and let out a sigh, “Fine, whatever.” George shouted in victory, “But, you have to also write Mum and ask her because she knows more than I do. And... you have to tell Y/N that the idea was mine.”

George reached up and kissed his sister’s cheek making her scream in disgust, “Yes, done and done! You are the best sibling in the entirety of the world.”

George turned sharply and sprinted up the stairs to write a letter to his Mum.

“What the hell am I then?” Fred crossed his arms, “Toasted squid?” 

The following days were spent with Ginny and George trying, and rather unsuccessfully, to knit a sweater for you. Fred watched in the background making witty and snide comments. Molly had written back with such haste that Pigwidgeon was nearly on his last breath before arriving at Hogwarts. She sent many words of encouragement and told him that he was the absolute “sweetest” which was in large contrast to Ginny’s frustrated and rather harsh criticism.

“No! You’re supposed to go over not, George! Have you even been listening this entire time?”

“Of course I have,” George said defensively, “It’s just confusing, that’s all.”

“Why can’t we just use magic?” Ginny whined.

“Because then it wouldn’t be homemade, hence the word, home, little sister.” George frowned, “What does it matter anyway? She won’t like it.” 

“Georgie,” Fred pushed off of the wall he was leaning on, “Stop being such a worry-wart.” He patted a hand on his shoulder, “Y/N is the sweetest girl, just because she’s richer than Merlin knows and can afford whatever she wants and doesn’t have to care about-”

“Alright, get on with it, Fred,” George warned.

“She’ll love it no matter what.” Fred finished, sending his twin a much needed reassuring smile.

“I hope so,” George sighed and picked up the needles once again. “Now, what the hell do I do again?”

By the time your anniversary approached, you were nearly bouncing with joy. You had gotten George the perfect present, something he’d never ever expect. Thankfully, your anniversary landed on a Sunday so you woke up and rushed to get ready in the morning. George waited, anxiously, on the stairs for you until you emerged. 

Dressed in jeans and a nice blouse, George was nearly breathless upon seeing you. He gulped as you walked down, seeing the gold necklace your parents had gifted you for your last birthday and pearl earrings they’d given you after getting amazing marks on your exams. 

“Hi,” you said softly, locking your fingers with his.

“Hi, darling,” he said back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. 

“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” you sighed contently and began to walk to the portrait.

“Now, what shall we do on our momentous day of love?” George asked, swinging your joined hands. 

You pulled your bag up closer on your shoulder and smiled back.“I think,” you paused, “we should go on a walk. A long, romantic walk.”

“Then a walk we shall take!” George led the way, pulling you through the corridors making you giggle. 

It was a delightful day spent with kisses and fond memories. You snapped a few photos of your boyfriend with the old camera you had bought.

“Now, I’ll never understand,” George raised his eyebrow, “Why you have a camera older than time itself rather than one of those new, fancy-schmancy cameras.”

You looked admiringly at the photo your camera just printed. As it developed, you could see the two of you, cheeks pressed together, you with a shy smile and George with his tongue sticking out. Another photo you had taken moments before was a snapshot of George’s lips pressed to your cheek and you could just make out the blushing on your face.

“Well,” you looked back up at your boyfriend, “I just happen to love old, worn things I suppose. Why do you think I’m with you?” you added, teasingly.

“Oi,” he defended, “ ‘m only a few months older than you, love. And I’m not worn, I’m newer than a baby’s bottom. You’re the only girl ‘ve been with.” 

“Only? As in there will be more?” you asked, a taunting tone on your tongue. George looked at you, as lovingly and as gentle as he ever could, and thought nothing more of the life you two would have. Happy, content, any other words that describe a healthy and romantic relationship. His thoughts began to waver at the idea of how he’d only be able to afford a small flat, that is if the joke shop even took off in the first place. He thought of all the expensive things he could never afford and how you may resent him. As you looked at him, you thought of the happy children you’d have and the copious amounts of dogs and cats you’d care for. George swallowed harshly.

“Only.” He repeated. You blushed once again and leaned to kiss him. The feeling of your touch on his made George fall quicker, deeper, and madly in love. 

After dinner in the Great Hall, in which George absolutely refused for anyone to sit next to or in front of you in order to make it more “private,” the two of you were laid, cuddled on your bed. George could feel the anxiety and panic set in when he realized soon he’d be giving the girl of his dreams a disappointing gift. 

You hummed, sweet with content, and put your chin on his chest. “I’ve never been happier.”

“I’m so glad,” George ran his fingers through your hair, pushing the stray ones behind your ear. “But,” you said as you sat up, “I do believe anniversaries come with a certain type of exchange.”

“Oh?” George asked, sitting up as well. His fingers felt knotted and his throat was closing up. He had sneaked his gift in, awfully wrapped in some colorful parchment, and placed it under your bed.Be confident, George pleaded and tried his best to act cooly. 

“I’ll go first, may I please, please go first!” you begged. 

George bit his tongue, much preferring he’d go first in order to deal with the disappointment before anything and also give you a chance to dump his impoverished arse.

“Of course, darling,” he nodded making you squeal in delight. George breathed deeply and closed his eyes, holding his hands out as he usually did when you gave him gifts. In his hands, he could feel a box wrapped with a bow.

“Alright, go on!” you nodded eagerly. George let out a shaky breath before carefully removing the bow and lifting the lid. To his delight, he picked up a pair of wool socks that were embroidered with small hearts on the sides. “It’s-”

“Socks!” you finished for him, “Because you get cold feet, remember? Now, when you are playing Quidditch or cold at night, you can wear them and think of me!” George broke out in a grin and thanked the heavens for his girlfriend and all the luck in the world that it took for him to find her. “I love them.” 

“Really?” you asked, pointing at the hearts, “I did those myself!” 

“They look wonderful, I absolutely adore them.” He leaned and kissed you. 

The kiss was long as George put a hand on your neck to pull you closer. His lips moving against yours made butterflies take flight and your bones become weaker. As he pulled away, you rested your forehead on his trying to catch your breath.

“My turn?” George asked making you nod. George pulled out his crappily wrapped gift, that Ginny told him off for, and put it in the bed. 

“Oh! Wrapped it yourself, I see?” you teased. George nodded proudly, becoming more and more confident in his gift. 

As you lifted your fingers to rip the paper off, you paused and faced him with another sly smile.

“Alright! Okay, I was going to save it till the end of the night, but I simply cannot wait.” George’s eyes widened as you jolted off of the bed. “You didn’t think I only got you socks, did you?” you asked, moving towards the trunk at the end of your bed.

“No, wait, Dear, the socks are lovely, I don’t need another-”

“I know, I know, but I couldn’t help it!” you sent him a wink, “Now, this one is the actual gift.”

“Actual gift?” George stuttered.Pulling out a large object, larger than your entire frame, George clenched his jaw. You struggled a bit to put it on the bed but managed and sat down in front of him.

“Happy Anniversary, my love.” your voice made him wince a bit.

You watched in utter excitement as George began to slowly unwrap his gift. Removing all the paper, George nearly fainted seeing his gift. A new broom, one of the best in the world, something he’d never ever be able to buy for himself. A broom, costing more than Merlin knows galleons. 

“So!” you bounced, “Do you like it? I saw at your other games, that bludger took out part of the tail end of your broom and I could not live with myself if you had an accident due to a faulty broom! I went and got it myself,” you said proudly. 

“And! It’s the fastest, rarest, and nicest type of wood, with a partially enchanted seat to help you stay upright!”

George’s hands shook, holding the broom.

“I-”

“Speechless? That was my entire goal!” you raised your fist in victory. 

“Y/N-”

“I know! And, not to mention, now you can wear your socks during the game! Two gifts in one!”

“Y/N-”

“I debated on getting you new gloves, but they wouldn’t be shipped in till middle of November and-”

“Y/N,” George said softly but firmly making you look at him with concern. You had never seen this facial expression on George as his eyes were nearly welled with tears and his lip was red from his biting.

“What’s wrong?” you asked frantically, “is it the wrong size? I gave the shopkeeper your height and everything-”

“No,” George said, putting the broom to lean on the wall next to your bed. “I can’t take this.”

“What do you mean? Love, I got it for you!” you laughed, waving your hand.

“No, Y/N, I seriously cannot take this.” You frowned, 

George’s voice was shaky making your heart drop. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s too expensive-”

“Nonsense, I saved up for it!”

“Baby,” George said, small and timid, “I cannot accept any more expensive gifts from you.” 

“What do you mean?” you questioned, leaning forwards to grab one of his hands, “the price doesn’t matter to me, I literally could not care,”

“But I care.” George protested. 

You nearly began to cry as you saw a tear dripped down George’s cheek. You sat up so you were sitting on your knees and gingerly placed your hands on his cheeks.

“My love, what’s wrong? Won’t you tell me?” you whispered, rubbing soft strokes with your thumbs. 

“I...” George struggled to find the words to describe how awful he felt, “I cannot take your gifts. And... and I’ll never be able to give you these types of gifts.”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you began to furiously shake your head, “George Weasley, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I’ll never be able to give you expensive things like necklaces or pearls or nice perfumes or nice suppers at fancy restaurants. I’ll never be able to give you the gifts you deserve. You deserve to be treated like a princess or a queen or anything and I cannot give you that, I can’t.” George let out.

You thought of his words in utter disbelief. Never once did you ever think of George’s economic standing and neither did you care. 

“But you do treat me like a princess,” you encouraged, making George moan with more tears, “You do. You tuck me in when I’m all tired from classes and make me cuppa’s in the morning. You massage my shoulders when I’m stressed and you hold my hand when you know I’m anxious.” You pushed his head up so your eyes met, “I mean that, from the bottom of my heart. I don’t care if you cannot give me expensive gifts or fancy dinners or anything, I care that you love me and want me to be by your side.”

“But, you give me all these-”

“I do it because I love giving you gifts! I love seeing you smile. And not all my gifts are expensive, sometimes I give you flowers I’ve seen or biscuits from the Great Hall. My darling, you do not need to worry if I feel as though you cannot provide for me, because you provide more than enough for me. I don’t care about money or gifts or anything like that.” you assured. 

George went silent and you began to pepper his cheeks, nose, and forehead with kisses until he cracked and started to smile. 

“I’ve just got the best girlfriend ever, haven’t I?” George asked, pulling you onto his lap. 

You curled into his chest and nodded.

“Oh, absolutely.”

It was quiet between you two again until you chimed up, “Well... may I have my gift now?”

“Uhhh, it’s uhh,” George stuttered. “It’s not amazing.”

“Don’t care!” you grinned and picked up his gift. “I’m so excited, I could nearly pee myself.”

George jokingly shoved you, “Oi, blimey well don’t do that. Not while you’re sitting on me at least.” 

You shoved him back before opening his gift. George held his breath as you unraveled the present and saw his gift. Your heart nearly stopped. You picked up the sweater, moving the parchment aside, and placed it on your lap. The sweater was yellow and made with soft wool. On the front, there was a badly made daisy, the flowers you always got for him during the Spring. Touching the fabric softly, tracing over each petal you stared at.

“I know it isn’t much but-” Before George could finish his apology, you took him by surprise and wrapped your arms around his neck tightly. Pressing kisses on the crook of his neck, he could feel your smile.

“I absolutely love it.”

“Really?”

“With all my heart, I’ve never been given something handmade nor something so sweet.”

“I made it... myself.”You picked up the sweater and laughed, “I can tell. How long did it take you?”

George paused, thinking and smiling sheepishly, “A few weeks maybe.”

“And you made it all by yourself? No magic?”

“No magic,” George confirmed, “But, Ginny did help me... she and Fred helped me come up with the idea.”

You shifted in George’s lap, moving so you could toss off the blouse you were wearing and shrugging the sweater on. It was warm and smelled of honey and pine and the string he had used made you feel as if you were wrapped in a hug of his. 

“George... I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” 

George blushed a deep red as you kissed first his cheek and then his lips.

“You’re welcome, Darling. I’m just glad I’ve finally given you a good enough gift.”

“Well,” you kissed the skin of his neck, “I’ll wear it every day. But...”

“But?” George asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“But, I think right now, I’d like it off,” you suggested, lowering your eyes at him.

“Off?” George asked confusedly before his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! Oh, off!”

“You’re so smart, aren’t you?” you snorted before pulling George in for another kiss.  

[nyxirrationalstories]

The Reader adventures

Hello, how are you?

I'm fine, I was finally able to put the tumblr on my computer.

Well, I'm writing this story because I didn't want my "x readers" to be "loose" anymore. So from now on, they will have some lore of their own.

Even if this introduction is written as Fem!reader, it can also be male (this includes trans!readers) [I already said about the "neutral language" in the fixed message, chek it if you want to do a ask].

It won't affect the orders, everything will be more or less as you asked (just a little treat I gave myself because I wanted to write something original of mine that you would read at last).

Now, let's start with this three-part introduction.

The house next door (1/3)

Normal days come to an end, when adventure knocks at the door and the very shameless one drags you into her story as a character still in the inkwell and in the pen writing her sentence.

Moving is not easy, no change is easy, and even more so when one undertakes it alone.

The young woman expected the typical things one can anticipate when moving: a good welcome or the rudeness of the city.

It was one of those typical dreams of trying one's luck, of having one's hopes up to the maximum and perhaps achieving it …. although the reality is that they wither or are achieved when one least expects it.

The good thing is that the young woman was smart: No cities of high hopes and broken dreams, no cities of big jungles and illusions, and, of course, no city where the Devil got every deal for mere minutes of fame.

No, she didn't want to stay for long. Just long enough to have good money and savings, to heed the good advice of her family who managed to retire early because of good decisions.

The place where she would stay was not like Hollywood made it out to be: not ugly, not dangerous. Just a little… boring to look at.

A good start, nothing out of the ordinary.

And, oh, she hoped many days would be like that.

--- Hurry up, silver tongue, those errands aren't going to run themselves --- the young woman turned to see the source of the scolding: her next-door neighbor, an elderly woman with white hair and long, claw-like fingernails, seemed to be scolding a young girl with brown hair and delicate features.

--- I'd rather not do them, if I go back there this time I'm sure I won't come back --- the young woman complained with a certain terror in her voice. It was not the first time she had seen these two women, but they always seemed very strange to her since the first day she arrived.

The old woman had a strong accent, more precisely a Slavic accent, and she had an equally strong character. She did not have the appearance of a sweet old woman, but rather that of a witch with whom you have to be very careful not to make her angry or waste her time.

Her house was just as strange as its owner, full of things and symbols that seemed to be related to magic and paganism. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but it always gave her the creeps.

As for the other woman, she was quite beautiful and well-groomed. But that was the strange thing, her way of dressing was old-fashioned: not an old-fashioned one where you wear an old style to go out; no, this one was constant. And the clothes clearly, though well-kept and preserved, were clearly from another era.

The young woman was very pleasant to talk to, even without any formal introduction, as her voice had a softer accent.

Sometimes it seemed to her a little unfair how the old woman treated, to what she supposed, her granddaughter. For several times she had spied her playing the violin and seen how the lady, when she occupied her for who knows what, did not seem to respect the young lady's time.

--- Bah, nonsense, or do you distrust this wise old woman? --- commented the old lady while she was arranging her plants in the backyard. Which, by the way, looked like a jungle and at the same time like a botanical park: there was everything and it grew wild. There were even plants she had never seen before.

And, from time to time, young YN (one of her many nicknames, although her favorite was bookworm or globe-trotting reader, both given to her by family and friends) would listen to the plant care tips the old lady would spout from time to time.

She was still trying, but one learns from failure.

--- I don't distrust you, don't think badly, but being there with that same man… I don't know what he's looking for, but I prefer not to meddle in his affairs. Although Kafur doesn't seem to have the same objectives --- the little mouse didn't know who this Kafur was, since the young "Silver Tongue" (as usually the old "Yaga", the name by which the girl referred to her "grandmother", used to call her). But, from the young lady's dread, she did not seem like someone pleasant to talk to.

--- Don't worry about him, as long as he doesn't know your secret, he won't be around for a long time --- the old woman laughed at her macabre comment. But it only made Silver Tongue turn pale.

--- I think he suspects, please don't make me come back. I promise to run any errand for 7 days and 7 nights, without stopping to rest --- pleaded the chestnut to the white-haired one, who only gave a snort and replied with "all right".

--- You are lucky that Apollo himself requires my help… or so he says. Knowing the god's behavior, he rather liked the messenger bird than the message --- Yn's eyes widened: what the hell were those two women talking about?! The god Apollo was a mere myth. She needed answers right now… but she couldn't demand them just like that, that wouldn't be wise.

So she would have to come up with a plan where they alone would be left in the open so she could learn the truth without any trickery on their part.

but little did she suspect, that the old lady was looking over to where she was hiding with a small smile.

[spinningintheshadows]

I NEED 25 and 2.

Something sweet with JJ’s sexual sassiness coming out also

"Growing Up Won't Bring Us Down"

Songs: Dirty Laundry by All Time Low (#2: "Dirty laundry looks good on you") ; Growing Up by The Maine (#25: “I flashback to the night in your parents yard when we drank too much and we talked about God”)

Words: 611

I tried to write this with "Sexual sassiness" but somehow it just made me sad I'm sorry.

The apartment was dingy at best, really. It was home, but it was a far cry from the home you’d moved into six years ago when you were sent to live with your aunt and uncle, your mothers sister and her husband, after she was killed in a car accident. It was there, in the big house in the Figure Eight that you met JJ Maybank for the first time. He’d been mowing aunt and uncle’s yard when you first met, you taking him by surprise when you treated him like a human instead of someone beneath you. Of course, you’d later tell him you had went from poorer than poor, to supposed wealth overnight. He’d called you a Pogue-turned-Kook, but you had no idea what that even meant since you had barely even been there a week when he said that. Nonetheless, you became fast friends.

Your aunt and uncle didn’t approve of your friendship, but you really didn’t care. You were miserable under their care. Within six months, you were sneaking out to attend parties with the other Pogues, who accepted you instantly. You spent your days with them. Within eight months, it was very clear that you and JJ were doing more than “hanging out” not that you would have ever admitted it.

On your 18th birthday, you snuck him into the backyard with a twelve pack of Coors Light when your aunt and uncle were on the mainland for some wedding of a friend of theirs. You’d stayed up all night, drinking and smoking, talking amongst other things. When your aunt and uncle returned the next day, they were pissed to find him there, and you ultimately got kicked out.

You bounced between the other Pogues’ places until you’d saved up enough money to rent this dingy apartment, and it only took two months before JJ showed up with his bags to “ease the burden” of living on your own. Now, nearly three years later, this place is home, with JJ, and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Y/N” JJ’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. The movie on the television was ending, surprising because the last you checked it was just starting. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how we got here.” you smiled.

“You know I think about that often. You should have never given me a chance” he said, adjusting so his hand was gently clasped in yours.

“But I did.” you said with a soft sigh. “Pogue turned Kook and back to Pogue.”

“Do you remember that night?” he asked, giving a look. “Because, you know every so often I flashback to the night in your parents yard when we drank too much and we talked about God”. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I try not to, all I can see is the anger in my uncle's face when he chased you off the property.” You told him, unclasping your hand from his and standing up.

“Where are you going?” the question came in the form of a pout on his face. You really tried to not roll your eyes at your pathetic boyfriend.

“Movies over, I need to do laundry. Which is what I planned to do today until you got “sick”” you told him. He shot you a cheesy grin reaching out for you.

“Or you can just walk around naked, I wouldn’t complain.” he said. “And besides, dirty laundry looks good on you, Baby.”

“Absolutely not. I’m doing laundry. You do the dishes!” You told him, walking towards the tiny closet that held your washer and dryer.

“I’d rather do you instead of the dishes!”

(okay this sucked but I needed a funny ending or I was gonna make myself even more sad. Hope it was okay.)