#insure your pets because when it pays off it pays off

[cerealxperimentslain]

im the movie rewatcher. a movie so nice you see it twice. second watch should start immediately after the first watch. then another few watches over the week. show it to each of my friends, one at a time. go through the movie shot by shot in my free built in editing program. put the movie on my phone so i am never at risk of being without it

anyway my dog is fine after another expensive throwup session. she feels really bad after what she’s done. because of the nausea medicine they gave her and not any sort of remorse. baby girl’s very bad no good evening

[ms-demeanor]

On insurance: I still live with my parents and don't know a lot yet about the sorts of things adults usually have to spend money on. I've always been skeptical of things like insurance and credit cards because it seems to me they wouldn't be selling that if they didn't expect to make money from it. I talked to my cousin a while ago about credit cards and basically came to the conclusion that they do that because they're betting on the customer getting sloppy and letting their debts stack up, and the way you beat that and get money from credit card companies is just by being careful.

I'm a little more confused about insurance though because it seems much more straightforwardly like a gamble they will simply not take if it won't pay off for them. Like, you don't go to a casino because every game they play at a casino is one they've done the math on and have determined that statistically most people will lose money on most of the time. Is insurance not kinda the same? Where they estimate the risk and then charge you an amount calculated to make sure it probably won't be worth it for you?

I know if you have a car you legally need car insurance so everyone knows you can pay for another car if you crash into someone, and I gather that here in the US at least health insurance companies have some kinda deal with hospitals so that the prices go down or something, and there's a reason I don't fully understand why not having health insurance is Really Bad. But we get to pet insurance, or like when I buy a concert ticket and it offers ticket insurance in case I can't make it to the show, and surely if they thought they were gonna lose money on that they just wouldn't sell it, right? Or they'd raise the price of it until it became worth the risk that something bad actually will happen? Wouldn't it only be worth it to buy insurance if you know something the insurance company doesn't?

So the deal is that most people don't use their insurance much, and often insurance companies will incentivize doing things that will make you use your insurance less.

So, for example, you can get a discount on car insurance if you have multiple cars because people who insure multiple cars are more likely to be responsible drivers (the ability to pay for multiple cars stands in as a representation of responsibility here). The longer you go without an accident, the lower your premiums get because that means that you are not costing your insurance company anything but you are paying into the system. The car insurance company's goal is to have the most responsible, safest drivers who never get into car accidents because they can predict (roughly) how much they're going to have to pay out to their customers and they want the number they pay out to be lower than what's paid in. So they try to discourage irresponsible drivers by raising their rates and encourage responsible drivers by giving them discounts.

Health insurance companies often do the same thing: I recently got a gift card from my health insurance company because I had a visit from a nurse who interviewed me about my overall health and made sure I had stable blood pressure and access to medications. It is literally cheaper for my insurance company to give me a $100 giftcard and hire a nurse to visit me than it is for me to go to my doctor's office a couple of times, so they try to make sure that their customers are getting preventative care and are seeing inexpensive medical professionals regularly so that they don't have to suddenly see very expensive professionals after a long time without care.

Insurance in the US has many, many, many problems and should be replaced with socialized healthcare for a huge number of reasons but right now, because it is an insurance-based system, you need to have insurance.

We're going to use Large Bastard as an example.

Large Bastard had insurance when he had his heart attack and when he needed multiple organs transplanted. He didn't *want* to be paying for insurance, because he thought he was healthy enough to get by, but I insisted. His premium is four hundred dollars a month, and his out of pocket maximum is eight thousand dollars a year. That means that every year, he pays about $5000 whether he uses his insurance or not, and if he DOES need to use the insurance, he pays the first $8k worth of care, so every year his insurance has the possibility of costing him thirteen thousand dollars.

The bill for his bypass surgery was a quarter million dollars.

The bill for his transplant was over one and a half million dollars.

His medication each month is around six hundred dollars. He needs to have multiple biopsies - which are surgeries - each year, and each one costs about twenty thousand dollars.

Without health insurance, he would very likely be dead, or we would be *even more* incapable of paying for his healthcare than we are right now. He almost ditched his insurance because he was a healthy-seeming 40-year-old and he didn't think he'd get sick. And then he proceeded to be the sickest human being I've ever known personally who did not actually die.

Health insurance costs a lot of money. It costs less money for people who are young and who are expected to be healthy. But the thing is, everybody pays into health insurance, and very, very few people end up using as much money for their medical expenses as Large Bastard did. There are a few thousand transplants in the US ever year, but there are hundreds of millions of people paying for insurance.

This ends up balancing out (sort of) so that people who pay for insurance get a much lower cost on care if they need it, hospitals get paid for the care they provide, and the insurance company makes enough money to continue to exist. Part of the reason that people don't like this scheme is because "insurance company" could feasibly be replaced by "government" and it would cost less and provide a better standard of care, but again, with things as they are now, you need to have insurance. Insurance companies are large entities that are able to negotiate down costs with the providers they work with, you are not. If you get hit by a car you may be able to get your medical bills significantly reduced through a number of means, but you're very unlikely to get your bills lower than the cost of insurance and a copay.

Because of the Affordable Care Act, which is flawed but which did a LOT of good, medical insurance companies cannot refuse to treat you because of preexisting conditions and also cannot jack up your premiums to intolerable rates - since Large Bastard got sick, he has had the standard price increases you'd expect from aging, but nothing like the gouging you might expect from an insurance company deciding you're not worth it.

Pet insurance works on the same model. Millions of people pay for the insurance, thousands of people end up needing it, a few hundred end up needing a LOT of it, and the insurance companies are able to make more money than they hand out, so they continue to exist. This is part of why it's less expensive to get pet insurance for younger animals - people who sign up puppies and kittens are likely to be paying for a very long time and are likely to provide a lot of preventative care for their animals, so they're a good bet for the insurer. Animals signed up when they are older are more likely to have health problems (and pet insurance CAN turn animals away for preexisting conditions) and are going to cost the insurance companies more, so they cost more to enroll (and animals over a certain age or with certain conditions may be denied entirely).

This weighing risk/reward is called actuarial science, and the insurance industry is built on it.

But yeah it's kind of betting. The insurance company says "I'll insure ten thousand dogs and I'm going to bet that only a hundred of them will need surgery at some point in the next year" and if they're correct, they make money and the dogs who need surgery get their surgery paid for out of the premiums from the nine thousand nine hundred dogs who didn't need surgery.

Your assessment of credit is correct: credit card companies expect that you will end up carrying a balance, and that balance will accrue interest, and the interest is how they make the money.

And it is EASY to fuck up financially as an adult. REALLY EASY. But you are still likely to need a good credit score so you will need a credit history. That means that the correct way to use a credit card is to have a card, but not carry a balance.

To do this, never buy anything on the card that you can't afford. In order to avoid needing the card for emergencies, start an emergency fund that is at least 3 months of your total pay *before* you get a credit card. That seems like a *lot* of savings to have, but from the perspective of someone who has had plenty of mess-ups, it's a lot easier to build up a $10k emergency fund than it is to pay off a $10k credit card debt.

If you don't understand how interest works on credit cards, or why a 10k savings is different than a 10k debt, here are some examples working with $10k of debt, 23% interest (an average-ish rate for people with average credit), and various payments.

With that debt and that interest, here's how much it costs and how long it would take to pay off with $200 as the monthly payment:

Fourteen years, and it would cost you about twenty four thousand dollars in interest, for a total amount paid of about thirty four thousand dollars.

To save $10k at $200 a month would take four years and two months.

Here's the same debt at $300 a month:

4.5 Years and it costs about six grand (again, just in interest - sixteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at three hundred dollars a month would take just under three years.

Here's the same debt at $400 a month:

3 years, about $4000 dollars (fourteen thousand dollars total). Saving ten thousand dollars at $400 a month takes just over two years.

The thing is, with all of these models you're going to end up paying one way or another. Insurance vs out of pocket is you weighing the risk of losing a fair amount of money by signing up but not using the system, or potentially losing a catastrophic amount of money by not signing up.

For credit cards they really only work if you know you're never going to need them for an emergency, because an emergency is what you're not going to be able to pay off right away. I didn't have an emergency fund when Large Bastard had his heart attack and needed surgery, or when we moved between states suddenly, or when we moved between states suddenly AGAIN and needed to pay storage costs, or when Large Bastard needed a transplant, or when Tiny Bastard got in a fight with my MiL's dog, and the fact that I didn't have an emergency fund is still costing me a lot of money.

So, young folks out there: what's the takeaway?

Get insurance. Get the best deal possible, which usually ends up being the one you sign up for early. You may think you can let it ride without insurance, but man in the six months between when I graduate college (and lost my school insurance) and when care kicked in after 90 days at my job I got electrocuted and needed to go to the ER. If that hadn't been a worker's comp payout I would have had thousands of dollars in bills. Something could happen. You could break your leg, you could get hit by a car, you could suddenly find out that you actually have heart disease at twenty, you could develop cancer. Have insurance, you need insurance. You legally need car insurance in the US, and you financially need health insurance. If you have a pet, I think it's a good idea for them to have pet insurance.

Credit cards are not for emergencies, they are not for fun, they are not for buying things that are just ever so slightly out of your budget, they are for taking advantage of the credit card company and managing to get by in a system that demands you have a credit score. ONLY put purchases on your credit card that you already have cash for. Before you get a credit card, build up an emergency savings so that you aren't tempted to put emergency charges on your card.

If you DO end up with an interest-bearing debt, pay it off as fast as possible because letting it linger costs you a LOT of money in the long run.

Stay the fuck away from tobacco and nicotine products they are fucking terrible for you, they are fucking expensive, and they are not worth it put the vapes down put the zyns down put the cigarettes down I will begin manifesting in your house physically i swear to fuck. Knock that shit off and put the cash that you'd be spending on nicotine into a savings account.

Take care, sorry everything sucks, I promise that in some ways it actually sucks less than it did before and we're working on trying to make it suck even less but it's taking a while.

[animasola86]

🚩 FORCED: 01

Accidents happen. Mistakes were made, and while you hoped the handsome stranger would help you through your dilemma, you ended up in his service, paying off a debt that would have changed your life for the worse if you wouldn't have "accepted" his "offer". Unfortunately, your life is still about to change, if you want to or not, and it's not getting any better...

a morally gray man!your new master ✖️ female!reader

WARNING: This is a DARK FANTASY EROTICA! Beware of the following tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat! Explicit sexual content! Noncon! Master/servant dynamic! Bad BDSM etiquette! Manipulation! Free use! Hurt/No Comfort! (🚩Please do not read/engage if any of these tags are triggering to you!)

WORDS: 3.1k 🚩 READ ON AO3!

A/N: Before I further warn you about the following depravities, let me address the elephant in the room: Yes, this is tagged with various fandom tags, no, this is not about your favorite blorbo, BUT I wrote a very ambiguous male character here, no descriptions, no name, so I invite you to fill in the blanks and MAKE him your favorite blorbo, call him Joel, call him Tony, call him Dean, whatever you want, imagine him as your favorite character, he can be ANYONE who's tall, (subjectively) handsome, rich, slightly intimidating, morally gray, and who would consider himself a Master.

Our Reader character is very ambiguous too, all I "blessed" her with, is hair long enough to braid and female genitalia. As I usually do, I tend to give my vague female characters pet names, and hers is Doll.

Now back to the warnings. I hope you considered the warnings I already gave above, so just know that this story is very dark, there's no comfort, it's rough, it's depraved, it's a collection of the darkest kinks I could think of (even those I told myself to never explore). Sometimes you just need to write (and read?) something that makes you highly uncomfortable, and maybe, through that discomfort you'll discover something about yourself. There is pleasure through pain after all, right?

So if you want to follow me on this wild, wild ride and are not afraid to face some dark themes, I welcome you and I thank you for reading these long notes before you dove into the thick of it. Please enjoy my darkest story yet!

And remember: This is fiction!!!

🔻 Chapter 1 🔺 Chapter 2+3

Not that it mattered in the moment, but if you could have formed a coherent thought, you'd wonder how you'd ended up like this: strapped to something one can only call a medieval torture device, wearing a blindfold and a ring gag, completely helpless, while getting a very unrelenting ass pounding.

It certainly wasn't something you'd planned.

The memory was hazy, but it had something to do with driving your rusty old hunk of metal of a car into the rear end of a shiny new, very expensive looking sports car. You'd been quite tipsy and shouldn't have gotten behind the wheel in the first place, but it happened, and while nobody got hurt (yet), you had been devastated.

Your options were slim. You knew your insurance couldn't do jack, you'd have to pay for the repairs yourself (because it was so obviously your fault), and on top of that you'd been (very) drunk, and if the police got involved, you'd lose your driver's license, which would ruin you further. No means to get to your job, you'd lose that too. And where were you supposed to get the money from then? Definitely not out of your starving bank account.

It was a spiral of doom, and it all led you to fall onto your knees, overdramatic as you were in your headless, drunken state, and you were begging. The man who had exited the sports car watched you curiously. He wasn't even angry, maybe mildly inconvenienced, but when you started pleading, his demeanor changed. There was a dark smirk on his handsome face.

Because, of course, you had to rear-end the car of the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. On top of the dizzying sensation of numerous cocktails (and countless shots and in-between beers) swimming through your system and the overwhelming guilt of causing an accident, you felt a strange and very inopportune warmth between your thighs.

He was hot, and you were hot for him, and it only made it worse to be on your knees in front of him, telling him I'll do anything, please, no police, it'll be my ruin, I can't afford the repairs but I wanna do something to help, make this better, please...

He'd taken a step closer, his hand moving towards your tear soaked face. You must have looked terrible, blotchy reddened skin, make-up smeared, mascara running down your cheeks in ugly rivulets, but he still cupped your burning face, thumb tracing the shape of your trembling bottom lip.

“You'd do anything, doll?” he asked, and you didn't even mind the pet name you would normally cringe about (or the inappropriate touch or the strange undertone), his voice was just so low, soft and deep, a gentle rumble in the air, very distracting.

You nodded into his hand, whimpering a breathless “Yes, sir”.

A smile made his lips twitch. “You know,” he said, caressing your face, fingertips brushing your unruly hair behind your ear. “It so happens that I need a new servant,” he continued, and you stared at him, mesmerized and confused. “You could pay off your debt while working for me.”

His suggestion made you blink, your mind too clouded to fully comprehend it, but you nodded again, a shaky smile playing around your lips. “Yes. Yes, I could. I would, I mean, I will! I'll do anything,” you repeated, leaning your head into his palm.

“Get up,” he ordered, and you stood immediately, albeit on trembling legs, having to look up at the tall man who still held your face. His other hand slipped into the inner pocket of his suit jacket to retrieve his phone.

You were staring at him, dumbstruck, desperate, drunk, watching him dial some number, then giving a bunch of orders. You barely registered any of it, too intoxicated (infatuated?) and shocked, too busy thinking about your spiraling life, you just heard something about a tow truck and some garage, and when he was finished, he winked at you, slowly guiding you to the passenger side of his car, his hand warm on your lower back.

While your car seemed damaged beyond repair with how the hood had been crushed into an accordion shape, there was a deep scratch in the probably very expensive matte black paint of his bumper, a few dents, a broken tail light, but nothing that kept his car from driving.

Not that you noticed too much of it as he ushered you onto the soft leather seat. He even leaned over you and buckled you in, and you were mind-blown, mind basically shattered at this point, too enamored to think any further than the tip of your nose, too distracted to realize you'd left your purse in the glove compartment of your car.

Not that it would matter.

The man slipped behind the wheel, his eyes holding you hostage while you both waited for the tow truck. There might have been small talk, but you couldn't remember, the world was muffled at that point, your head spinning, your tongue too heavy to move. Once those flashing lights that weren't from any police car flickered across the dark parking lot, the man drove off with a roar of the engine, quickly speeding away from the scene of your demise.

Demise? Again, you couldn't make that connection, not in that moment, all you felt was a strange relief. He took care of the car, he'd take care of you too, right? You'd work for him, pay off your debt, keep living your boring little life once it was all done.

It was all a blur when the car arrived at one of those fancy metal gates, and the house that loomed behind them was too massive to comprehend. You were floating, still too drunk to properly function or think a single rational thought. Doesn't matter. It'll be alright.

You remember stepping into a large foyer, eyes too unfocused to take in all the splendor around you. He grabbed your wrist then and pulled you after him into an office where you fell into a soft chair. The rustling of paper made you curious, but when you looked down at the stack he'd put down in front of you, you frowned.

“Just to make this legal,” he said in that honey sweet baritone voice of his that melted your panties right off. “You'll sign this and you'll become a part of this household, as you'll serve me in whatever way I see fit. We'll find a place for you. You'll get your own room, you'll always be fed, and I'm sure you can handle whatever needs to be done, right? Consider your debt paid off, doll.”

As confused as you were, you were also too grateful for this turn of events. Stumbling out of a bar after a night of too much alcohol to try to forget your shitty little life, drunk driving into this man's car to end up working for him, living in his special mansion? Why not? Sounds reasonable. Sounds better than having to return to your small apartment that still reeked of the previous tenant's love for garlic.

It didn't even matter that he never told you who he was, that you didn't exchange any names to begin with. Who is he? Doesn't matter. He seemed wealthy, influential, generous in his offer to let you do this instead of ruining your life by insisting to do it the official way. He was offering you redemption, and you'd be very stupid to deny it. It'll be alright. No need to read the long text in front of you either, not that you could focus on a single word anyway. It'll be fine. You'll be a maid, probably, you can do that. Dust and clean or whatever, easy.

And so you grabbed the pen he was holding out to you and left the strange squiggle of your signature on the lines he marked for you, not even wondering why he'd have this contract ready to sign so quickly. Does this happen often? Doesn't matter.

Your head was spinning, and the way he smiled at you didn't make it better. You found yourself smiling back, somewhat dumbly, too buzzed to react any differently. You felt sleepy too, a strange mix of nerves and utter exhaustion, and you barely noticed when he stood next to you all of a sudden, gently grabbing your elbow to pull you to your feet.

Then you were walking with him, to an elevator, and it was going down, and your stomach jumped to the ceiling, nausea grabbing you tightly. The cubicle stopped with a sudden jerk, the doors slid open with a ding, and he kept dragging you along, through a dimly lit corridor lined with doors. You felt lightheaded now, on the verge of throwing up all the sugary drinks you'd consumed earlier, but he didn't stop, didn't give your body a second to rest before you reached the end of the hallway.

He opened the nearest door with something like a key card and gently pushed you into the room beyond. You stumbled, turned to look at him, but he was already closing the door behind you, shutting you in. You blinked, confusion mixing with the vertigo gripping your body, and the small noise of a lock clicking into place got lost when you started retching.

You somehow made it into the small room to your left that held a toilet and a sink, and found yourself hugging the bowl as you emptied your stomach into it. You were still dizzy when your body decided it was enough, and after a long moment of just sitting on the tiled floor, trying to catch your breath, you managed to stand up and lean over the sink. No mirror. Strange.

The light coming from a single bulb dangling from the ceiling hurt your eyes, so you didn't pay too much attention to the unusually spartan light fixture. You washed your hands, then your face, then washed your mouth out. There was a small shelf to the side, holding a prepackaged toothbrush and some tooth paste, and you ripped it open with shaking hands and brushed the vile taste off your tongue.

Feeling only slightly better, you went back into the room, finding nothing but a bed. Not even a bedside table. Just a bed, and it wasn't as comfortable or big looking as you would have expected in a mansion this large and luxurious. It still served a purpose, and you fell onto it and curled up, too exhausted to think any more about what happened. Or what might await you.

Doesn't matter.

With your head spinning and the room spinning along, you fell asleep to dreams of more spinning, of cars and handsome men, flashing lights, hands on your face, hands on your hips, hands pulling off your clothes, fingers pinching your nipples, fingers dipping between your shamefully wet folds, of moans and grunts echoing through a small room, and it was still spinning, and the bed was shaking and squeaking, and you were moved and handled, and when you woke up even more exhausted, you found yourself lying on your stomach, cheek resting on a wet spot where your drool had gathered on the pillow.

You rolled onto your side, feeling a strange soreness deep within you. There was something sticky between your thighs, and you blamed it all on drinking too much, having strange wet dreams, pushing yourself too far. Stumbling off the bed, you groaned, pressing a hand to your stomach as a deep-rooted pain poked at your insides. You didn't even notice that you were stark naked at first. Slowly, you made your way into the bathroom, sat on the toilet for what felt like forever, a strange burning sensation assaulting your senses.

Your head was heavy, hurting, full of cotton that pressed hard against your skull, threatening to break through. Not sure cotton can do that. You brushed your teeth again, blinking at the empty spot where you'd expect a mirror on the wall. It took you a very long time to finally put all the pieces together, or at least some of them.

Your clothes were gone. You were naked, aching, had to clean off a strange stickiness from between your legs, your insides hurt in a way you never experienced before, and sitting was very uncomfortable somehow too. Last night was a blur, but you remembered the accident, the man, signing a contract, paying off your debt by... by doing what? Being a servant? That's what he'd said, right? What kind of servant? you wondered as you sat on the edge of the bed, breathing harder as you tried to make sense of it all.

The room alone was strange. The only light came from the (doorless) bathroom, from that grimly looking light bulb swinging softly from the ceiling. There were no windows, just the bed and the door, a sturdy looking door without a knob or handle, just a key pad to the side. What is this place? A cell of some sort? Why were you here? Why were you naked? Where did your clothes go? Who had taken them? Who had been here? What had happened to you?

Caught in your own mind, you grabbed the sheets and draped them around your bare body. You weren't cold, but it felt better to cover up like this. If you wouldn't have to fight the aftermath of a night full of flowery drinks and gut-punching shots, you would certainly panic, start pacing, try to find a way out. But you were hurting, from the top of your head down into your toes, all nerve endings on edge, and the pain was that all-consuming thing around you, allowing not a single rational thought, just an overall feeling of uneasiness.

You didn't know how long you just sat there, staring holes into the bland wall, when the door suddenly opened with a click and a hiss. It swung open, and the man from last night entered, greeting you with a smile. You blinked at him, lips trembling, mind reeling.

“Good morning,” he said as he walked in and closed the door behind him. It clicked shut automatically. He was carrying a box in his hands. You remained on the edge of the bed, not daring to move as you watched him put it down next to you, nodding towards it. “I brought you something to wear,” he added nonchalantly.

Still confused but also intrigued, you slid part of the blanket off your shoulder and moved your hand to open the box, hoping for new clothes, maybe a maid's uniform, something that would make sense, but what you saw lying on the soft red velvet lining the insides of the container made your stomach turn violently. You recognized three coils of black rope, but the other item made no sense to you.

It was a metal hook, for lack of a better term, with a loop at one end that was probably for the rope to pass through, but the other side was... it was rounded, elongated, several ball shaped protrusions in a hard line, the metal formed in some sort of arch, giving it the hook-shape.

You swallowed hard, looking up at the man who watched you with dark eyes and an impassive expression, no longer smiling. Looking away more than intimidated, you stared back into the box and noticed a few other things. A thick leather band, like a collar, with a hoop at the back and three little belts in the front, the width of it making you stiffen, your throat already closing up just thinking of having something that big around it. You'd assume that was what it was for anyway.

It was strange how calm you were, how unusually distant. You had so many questions, but you couldn't find the strength to ask them. His presence felt ominous, like you couldn't breathe, oppressive, dominating. You felt small, even smaller than you were, vulnerable without your clothes, trapped in this weird room. And somehow it also made sense. You remembered the things he told you, and all of them seemed true. Having a room, doing what needs to be done, serving him. There were no details, but your mind was reeling with filling the voids.

Servant. Not a maid, but a slave.

Why was this revelation so eerily comforting? It shouldn't be. You should be freaking out, he took you away, forced you to sign a contract (patiently holding the pen, waiting for you, while you made the biggest mistake of your life), expecting you to come to terms with your new role right on the spot – and frankly, you felt yourself accepting it.

You didn't have a choice, did you? You were young and naive, yes, but you knew that contracts held value, and you signed one, you remembered it, not clearly, but it was there, and you did it because you needed to repay your debt, pay for the repair of his car that you were at fault of damaging. It was either this (whatever this was) or dealing with insurance and police and losing your car and your driver's license and your job and all the other things you'd accumulated over the years of independence. It wasn't much, but you didn't want to lose any of it.

And you wouldn't have to work here forever, right? A car repair, a new paint job, wouldn't be costing that much, would it? He'd have to let you go eventually. But you didn't read the contract... Something cold crashed down your spine, making you gasp, finally opening the door to more hysterical breaths, your lungs aching under the need to get enough oxygen to make you fully understand what was going on.

As soon as you started hyperventilating, you found yourself pressed to the bed, a strong hand closing around your throat, further limiting your airways. Your eyes widened as he loomed over you, staring down darkly. “Please,” you croaked out, your hands frantically grasping for his wrist, your body finally remembering it could move.

He shook his head. “You signed a contract. You gave your life to me,” he said quietly, his low voice menacing and dark now. “You want to pay off your debt, don't you, doll?”

You kicked beneath him as he climbed over you, one knee pressed between your legs, hand tightening around your neck. Gasping, thighs trembling as he rubbed the soft fabric of his pants against your aching sex, you opened your mouth, tried to tell him no, not like this, it was a mistake, please, but he only squeezed a little more, fingers pressing into the sides of your throat, black spots dancing in front of your eyes.

The room was spinning again, you felt so heavy, so exhausted, your fingernails scratched over his skin before your hands fell away limply, and then, darkness surrounded you, switching off the screeching voices of panic in your head instantly.

🔻 Chapter 1 🔺 Chapter 2+3

End notes: This was just the introduction, from now on, anything goes, and it goes hard. Stay tuned!

New chapter every Saturday at around 9pm CEST!

Thank you for braving this depravity reading!

MASTERLIST 🔻 AO3 🔻 ORIGINAL WORKS

[creepling]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ dating digger harkness headcanons

this is a very specific reader because i love the idea of this grimy hobo having a cute, smart girly partner that is the candy floss to his raccoon energy OKAYYY. also tcm shenanigans will be back shortly, i just had to give some love to a dc rogue like the old times<33

tags: feminine reader (wears dress, skirt, heels, mild makeup and has breasts and v) but gn pronouns. sugar daddy digger if you squint. reader is a jailbird. cuddling. pet name: birdie. smut under the cut - minors dni. polaroid nudes. (m) masturbation. thoughts of: oral (m receiving) and cowgirl.

If you were to ask Digger the first thing he noticed about you, his caveman mind would be objectifying. But your ass did look very flattering in your skirt and the smile you shot his way was the cherry on top. He likes them sweet and innocent, you like them rugged and dangerous. It was a match made in hell heaven.

After a few dates spent in dingy pubs and lover’s lanes, he was enamoured by you. He’s never had someone look at him the way you do. Eyes full of light, glistening at the sight of him. You always welcomed him with open arms, practically throwing yourself at him. He liked how easy you were to pick up, and the way you wrapped your limbs around him. How your soft skin blushes red against his scruffy neck. No matter the setting, you sat so close to him that you were more or less on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, or has a hand on your thigh, letting nearby acquaintances know you belong together. Digger thinks to himself, “I got so fucking lucky.”

His love languages are primarily gift-giving and physical touch. More times than you can count, Digger has fallen asleep on top of you. Either on the couch, while watching a movie or he found a way to snake between your legs while sleeping, he has a habit of using you like a pillow. You developed a kinship in moments like this where you play with his hair, massaging your fingers into the nape of his neck or twirling the strands that curtain his temples. You muse at his sleep-full hums, watching this rogue unwind under your touch, satisfied like a dog receiving pets. The gift-giving is when his rogue side is on high voltage. He wants to give you the world, shower you with jewels, let you wear the best of gear. “You want diamonds? Yeah, I’ll get you diamonds,” He’ll muse, mixing his pleasures with yours. When he robs a bank, the majority of his stolen dollars has been spent on you since you met him. Did your car get towed? He bought you a new one, along with the insurance. Need a new dress for the weekend? He’s got you sorted, along with heels and a bag to match. “Can’t have my bird in peasant clothes!” He protests, “Not with that cracken’ bod.” Queue the wink.

He loves showing you off, chuffed that he proved his doubters wrong that he could settle down and have a gorgeous significant other. “What they see in you, I don’t know . . .” They say, whether that be Deadshot, King Shark, heck even Amanda is amazed by it. He keeps candid polaroids of you in his pocket on the job, looking at them when he misses you. He squeezes the unicorn plushie you gifted him when he is stressed, anything to feel your presence when you’re half the world away. A shit-eating grin on his face when people tease him about his love for you, using it to embarrass him. “Awh, it’s puppy love,” Harley cooes, and Digger nods, all chuffed with himself.

Digger gave you the nickname “Birdie” because well . . . You’re a jailbird. He is in prison for heinous crimes, after all! Oh, is he touched-starved when you’re standing there, pretty face to the phone, separated by glass and talking in your voice that melts him like butter. His eyes are eating you up, desperate to have his hands on you. He’ll do all the suicide missions going to shred off the jail time, to get closer to the day his lips are kissing yours. Blackmailing Amanda to get you the best of the best, pay off college debt, holidays abroad, and spoil you when he cannot. “Oh, Birdie, when I get out of here I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.” He groans, drunk on love. All you do is smile, sliding a pack of Polaroids under the screen when the guards aren’t looking. “Have these to tide you over in the meantime,” you tease. Digger rushes back to his cell, flipping through the photos. First were of you in dresses that were his favourites, the type of ones that are flowy and floral, framing you so delicately. They get more desirable as he flips them over, and his eyes lull in lust.

Digger loves the dirty photos you send him, it drives him fucking insane. It’s good to keep you fresh in his mind, but it borders on teasing just having you to look at. He didn’t have the brightest imagination, but this was good practice. Imagine how soft your thighs are under his callous hands, what your lips taste like with the lipgloss you have on. Your delicate hands trace his bulge, your touch replacing his heavy-handed grasp. Bucking into your hands as he sucks your breasts, teasing your nipples, muttering how perfect you are. His sweet little birdie, all belonging to him. Your eagerness proves your devotion. You take his infamous size so well, your spit coating his cock as your tongue swirls around his pulsing tip. As he wanks himself off, muffling his groans, he has the faintest memory of your cunt. How wet you always were for him, how eager you bounced on his cock. His eyes closed as he pumped his cock faster, edging to the echoes of past moans you chanted in his ear.

[cheol-e-kat]

can i request professor cheol for your bingo

hi anon, yes, of course you can - i hope you like him ⋆˙⟡ fr i love writing cheol - couprangs where are you ;-;

♡ kat

bingo square: professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) (prof. choi, pt. 2)

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

summary: prof. choi has extra sessions with a special student

genre: prof!seungcheol, student!reader, age gap, dark themes

word count: 0.9k

warnings: below cut

smut, dark themes, mentions of stalking, age gap, penetrative sex, edging and orgasm denial, humiliation kink (kind of), use of panties as gag, power imbalance, pet names

he was breathing heavily - he refused to allow himself to make sounds during your sessions. his hands grasped your thighs roughly as he stood between them. your knees were hooked over his arms as his fat, leaking cock moved slowly back and forth in controlled motions, and he bit his lip. he was dragging his cock between your naked pussy lips, just barely teasing your clit with every move. he wasn’t watching you - he was staring at the mess he was making out of your cunt.

“it’s astounding how little stimulation you need before you’re practically soaking for me,” he whispered, thrusting a bit harder. you could hear the soft slap of his balls against your ass.

“i’m not even inside you, and you’re dripping for me,” he bit his lip gently, his movements continuing. 

he had already told you that he wasn’t concerned about whether you came this afternoon or not. today’s time was just about him working out his frustrations by making use of your pussy, since you seemed to always be wet for him anyway - his “perfect little cock sleeve.” 

you gasped, the fabric of your wet panties muffling the sound. almost the moment you stepped into his office, he asked for your panties, wanting to know just how wrecked you already were. he normally stuffed them in his pocket - you knew you wouldn’t get them back - they would go in his bottom desk drawer. you sometimes got off in your room thinking about how he used your soiled panties. but today, he had shoved them between your lips, “insurance,” he had whispered against you making any sounds since he planned to take his time - his evening was free. 

“shhh,” he breathed, glancing at you, “i told you, not a sound if you want to come today,” he said sternly. 

you had yet to disprove his theory that you were always wet after his lectures. the very first time you had talked to him after class it was about your abysmal test grade, he had listened to you talk about how you studied and the practice exams - how you thought you were doing well, and then he had suddenly asked if you were distracted in class. you had stared, caught off guard by the odd question.

he had elaborated, “i think you’re problem is that you’re distracted in class - you always seem like you’re paying attention to things other than the material, and squeezing your thighs tight under your desk - i wonder why that is?” he asked.

you had blushed heavily because he wasn’t exactly wrong - you were distracted in class - you couldn’t help that you liked watching him, thinking about him. and it wasn’t your fault that he always seemed to excite you. you sometimes had to leave class and rush to the bathroom, knowing you were too wet, worried that someone would notice.

he suggested that you focus on the lesson and that you visit him after each class so he could ‘check’ your progress. 

his office was in one of the older buildings on campus, full of wood and winding stone hallways. the first time you had come into his office, you thought you would joke about how difficult it had been to find his office, even if you were lying - you knew exactly where prof. choi’s office was - you had known since your freshman year when you had first followed him. you knew the way there like the back of your hand. you even knew how often he stayed late, grading exams - you worried about how tired he looked sometimes.

but he hadn’t given you time to make small talk. instead, he had thrown an arm around your waist and shoved his hand under your skirt, his fingers dipping into your pussy. he immediately knew what a mess you were. 

and now, you were just balanced on the edge of his desk, your ass barely making contact with the wood while seungcheol held you in place. you griped the desk, struggling to keep your hands exactly where he had placed them. you knew if you obeyed the rules, he would reward you - you would be his “good little girl.” you loved it when he whispered those words. 

you were surprised when his cock pushed between your folds and the sudden feeling of being completely full. you struggled to grasp the desk as he began to fuck into you, deep and hard, every thrust stretching you wider and wider. there were papers in the way - you could feel them crumpling between your fingers as you whimpered, grateful your panties were there to keep you quiet. 

you could feel your orgasm building and building, and without warning, he pulled out, just as you were on the cusp of coming undone. you fell back, whimpering, feeling him returning to the same position of barely teasing your clit with his thrusts. 

you heard his small laugh, “i told you, y/n, i’m in a terrible mood this evening - why not take it out on my little stalker - keep edging you and your tight little cunt until you’re beyond begging,” he whispered close to your ear. 

you nodded, moaning softly, you were happy to have him edge you as long as it pleased him. as long as he was enjoying it, you didn’t care. 

a/n: hehe tehy're both freaks - hope you enjoyed them tho!!

♡ kat

if you want to keep reading these two (prof. choi, pt. 2)

bingo card master list

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol: knotting + marking | professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) | monster | spanking (neighbor seungcheol) | big dick + hate sex | forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) | voyeurism + punishment | coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (untitled alpha!!cheol pt. 1) |

mingyu: lingerie + praise kink | bed sharing + big dick | praise + worship kink | vehicle sex + oral fixation | drunk pda + no underwear | enemies to lovers + tentacles |

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @gigglensnort

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[doberbutts]

Freshly new pet parent looking for guidance: any trade secrets on navigating vet costs? nothing too scary has come up yet w/ my sweet 4 month old kitty. But I figured if there’s some illuminati cheat code to saving some money it wouldn’t hurt to ask someone who knows more than me. Future 800$ spay is going to take a big dent out of my wallet for sure.

Cheat code one: either get pet insurance asap or start putting away money into a savings account that you will not touch ever outside of a pet emergency, whatever money you'd be spending on pet insurance. So if you'd be spending 60 bucks a month on pet insurance, you should be putting 60 bucks a month into that savings account instead if you don't want to or don't have access to pet insurance. When an emergency hits, you'll thank yourself.

Cheat code two: it is going to be very tempting to not keep the cone on her after a spay or really any procedure. Don't take it off. "Aww but she looks uncomfortable" this is the devil talking. Do you understand me? If you don't want to pay for emergency vet bills because she pulled out all of her stitches in 5 seconds flat and now has a portion of her insides sticking out of the incision KEEP THE CONE ON HER

Cheat code three: the safest and happiest kitties are inside cats. Do not let her roam outside. If you want her to experience the outdoors, teach her how to walk on a leash or install kitty fencing or a kitty condo outside so she can be out there safely. Outdoor cats have higher vet bills because outdoor cats get hit by cars, tormented by sick cruel people, poisoned, attacked by other animals, heat stroke, and stuck in machinery. Do you want to rabies quarantine your cat or risk having her head chopped off because she came home with mystery wounds? Don't let her roam outside then.

Cheat code four: *most* indoor cats are fine getting their core vaccines, sterilized, and then brought in only for their yearlies unless they otherwise get sick. Cat-proofing the dangerous aspects of your home, like not keeping lilies or avoiding tinsel decorations, and feeding a good quality food with plenty of fresh water (most cats prefer moving water- consider a fountain! They can be found for relatively low cost!) and lots of safe toys for mental and physical stimulation will keep the majority of your potential vet costs down. Obviously there are things that can happen that are out of our control, like @pangur-and-grim's Belphie, but these things are thankfully not super common.

Good luck with your new baby!

[gosecretscribbles]

Stanuary 2025 Week 1: Mindscape

Summary: Stan is on the beach looking for clothes to steal when heatstroke sets in. He pops out of his body and into the Mindscape, where our favorite Dorito is hoping to make a deal.

AO3 link

Stanley was cold. 

He got up and walked.  Sand and candy wrappers crunched under his bare feet.  Shorebirds chased the waves back and forth.  Gulls chased the occasional flying chip wrapper.  It was really hot today.  Why was he cold again?

Whatever.  He was busy.  He was sick of hand-me-downs.  Pa only bought Ford new clothes.  Stan was sick of hand-me-downs.  By the time Stan got them, it was because Ford had almost outgrown them, which meant Stan only wore them for a week before they were too tight to really wear.  So he was going to find a few charitable tourists and borrow some semi-new stuff. 

Except there…weren’t any tourists.  That was weird, too.  And the gulls were gone.  And he was cold.  If it was so hot, why was he shivering?  Shivering sucked.  Stan got up and started walking.

Had…had he been lying down?

“Stupid sand,” he grumbled.  Must’ve tripped.  Ugh, he was cold.  He squinted.  Oh, duh, there were no tourists because he was headed the wrong way.  He could see the shadow of the Stan O’ War over by the cliffs.  They’d only been working on it a couple of months, but they’d stowed some basic running away supplies in there.  Water and chips and a couple towels.  He could use a towel.  He got up and started walking. 

The Stan O’ War was getting close now.  He felt a little better already, and a whole lot lighter.  He grinned.  See?  Stan-the-Man’s still kickin’.  You know what, forget the beach.  I’ll go to the boardwalk and steal the clothes right off people’s backs!  Literally!

“I’ll train a pet fly!” he said aloud.  “I’d make it go up people’s shirts and bug them until they took it off.  No wait, a pet wasp.  Wasps are cool.  I’ll tie some string around it like a leash and feed it…whatever wasps ate.  Apples?  Oh, I could use Shanklin!  No, wait, if I sic Shanklin on them, Shanklin he’d just tear up the clothes.  Okay, no Shanklin.” 

He was still working out his plan when he reached the boat.  He put one hand on the side of the boat and lifted his foot to step over the broken wood.

His hand went straight through the boat.

He fell forward with a sharp cry, expecting more pain as wood dug into his leg.  But he didn’t even hit the ground.  He looked down.  He was floating.  Apparently. 

“Huh.”  He waved his hand through the boat again.  Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard his own footsteps for the past…however long.  “Am I a ghost?  Oh man, Sixer’s gonna love this!”

“HEY THERE, KIDDO!”

Stan looked up.  Lounging against the mast was a bright yellow triangle.  It had one eye, little stick limbs and a top hat.  He snorted.  “A bow tie?  What are you, an insurance salesman?”

“HA!  YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY, KID!  DRESS FOR THE JOB YOU WANT, NOT THE JOB YOU HAVE!”  The triangle swooped down and circled Stan.  “YEESH.  YOU WANT TO BE A TRASH HEAP, KID?”

“Depends, what’ll you pay me for it?”

The triangle laughed and zipped away, coming to rest on the rail of the boat.  “YOU KNOW WHAT?  I LIKE YOU KID!  NAME’S BILL!  HOW’S ABOUT I HELP YOU GET SOME REAL DUDS, HUH?”

“Yeah?  You the magic money fairy?”

“EVEN BETTER, KID!”  The triangle multiplied itself in a ring around Stan.  All the triangle-guys tilted in slightly and their shapes turned into screens.  He saw recordings of himself, like he was watching his memories play out on TV.  The time he got Ford’s old jeans.  The time he patched up Ford’s old belt with tape.  The time Ford ripped a white T-shirt, so when Stan got it, he started rolling up his sleeves.  “I’VE BEEN WATCHING YOU, KID.  WHY STOP AT A WARDROBE UPDATE?  I CAN UPDATE YOUR WHOLE LIFE!  NEW HOUSE, NEW YOU, NEW FAMILY!  WHADDAYA SAY?”

“Nah.”  He turned and started doggy-paddling through the air.

The triangle was suddenly in front of him again, a little too fast.  His yellow edges seemed to snap with static.  “HEEEEY, BUDDY!  PAL!  WHAT’S THE RUSH?  I’M OFFERING THE SALE OF YOUR TEENY TINY EXISTENCE!”

“Con,” Stan said flatly. 

“WHAT –”

“COOOOON,” Stan said flatly, sounding bored.  He lounged back on thin air.  “Pretty bad one, too.  Is this from the moldy corn chips last night?”

Bill was definitely buzzing with static.  The yellow flashed briefly to red.  “CORNCHIP?  GUESS AGAIN, KID!  YOU’RE IN THE MINDSCAPE!  I’M AS REAL AS YOU ARE!”

Stan frowned.  “Mindscape?  I’m dreaming?”

“DREAMING, ASTRAL-PROJECTING, DYING, WHAT’S THE DIFFERENCE?  DO YOU REALLY WANT TO RUSH BACK TO A FLESH PUPPET THAT’S HOT, HUNGRY, AND TIRED?”

“Yep.  Bye.”  He swam through Bill. 

Bill turned bright red and got way, way bigger.  Bigger than a dump truck.  His eye turned black with a slitted white pupil. 

“BIG MISTAKE, KID –”

“Con.”

“I’VE BEEN WAITING A TRILLION YEARS –”

“Con.”

“STOP SAYING –”

“COOOOOON.”

It might’ve been scary, but Stan had already proved that they couldn’t touch each other when he ghosted through Bill.  He was pretty sure this was all real, though.  Mostly because he’d never ever dream up a bowtie and a top hat.  What was that even about?  Was the money fairy running for president or something?  At least grow a beard, Mr. Shiny Abe Lincoln!  Or get lasers.  Lasers were cool. 

If this was real, though, then he wasn’t sure what had happened to his body.  He didn’t really remember dying, so maybe he was just…part ghost?  He’d been walking around on the beach before, so his body was probably somewhere on the sand.  He wanted to go back to it.  But it actually was nice not to feel hungry or tired.  That, and the sun was starting to set.  Ford might’ve gone looking and found him.  And Stan really didn’t want to lead this thing back to his brother.  He wasn’t sure if being a ghost meant people could see them or not.  If they could, though, Ford would take one look at Bill and go all Obsessed Robo Nerd.  No thanks.

It took a few hours, but Stan eventually made Bill go away by singing “I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves” over and over.  Bill started making weird screechy noises at him, which was absolutely <em>hilarious.</em>  But the sun was setting and he really needed to find his body before the gulls tried to eat him for smelling like corn chips.

Sure enough, he spotted his body slumped over a little way up the beach.  Looked like he’d collapsed face-down.  (Okay that was a little bit funny.)  The tide was coming in up to his shoulder.  Ford had found him, at least, and was dragging him out of – oh, wait, no, he was dragging Stan <em>into</em> the water.  A flock of seagulls surrounded them, periodically trying to dive-bomb Stan’s body.  Ford was trying to fend them off with a bent beach umbrella. 

“Back, ye beasts!” Ford shouted at them.  “BACK TO THE DUMPSTERS FROM WHENCE YOU CAME!”

…Alright, so Ford wasn’t completely trying to kill him.  Just drown him.  Apparently. 

Stan braced himself and dove back into his body.  He didn’t even have a full second to think, It worked! before gravity yanked him face-first into the next wave.  He flailed, coughing hard, and all of his limbs threatened to crush him under his own weight.  He thought he’d felt cold before.  He was practically freezing! 

“Stan!”  Ford grabbed Stan’s head and pulled him above the wave.  Which did not help.  Ford realized this and switched dropped him –

“OW!”

– and then grabbed Stan under the armpits, hauling him a little further up the beach.  The seagulls drew back, sullen disappointment in their beady little eyes. 

“Sixer,” Stan croaked. 

“Stanley!  You’re alive!”

“You – tried to – drown me!” he managed between coughs. 

“I’m trying to cool you down!  How long were you out here?  You’ve got really bad heatstroke, you’re burning up!”

Is that what this was?  Heatstroke felt like a bad fever, times a thousand.  His body hurt and he was so cold his teeth were chattering and he couldn’t even see and he felt so dizzy he was going to throw up. 

“Wanna go back t’ the mind thing,” Stan groaned, and then almost screamed when the next wave crashed over his legs and back.  It was so cold, why was it so cold and why did it hurt so much? 

“…making sense.  It’s okay!  We just – okay, we can’t go to a hospital, but I read about heatstroke!  You can’t sleep – no, that’s concussions.  But it’s fine, we’re cooling you off –”

“<em>Hurts</em>.”

“We have to, Stanley, you could die from heatstroke!” 

Ford’s face was really pale, actually, even in the orange light of the setting sun.  No wait, it was night.  Because it was all dark.

“It’s not dark, I just opened the umbrella.  Uh, you’re cooling off, you also need to drink a ton of water <em>not the seawater!</em>”  Ford yanked Stan’s chin up above the waves.  Stan tried to bite him.  He was thirsty!  “No!  It’s 3% salt, processing salt in your kidneys takes more water, you’ll actually dehydrate drinking it –”

Stan lost track of what Ford was saying.  His head was pounding and his vision was going all dark.  But Ford was making nerd noises, which must mean that everything was okay.  He closed his eyes.  This time, instead of a weird talking triangle, he saw black, and slipped down into a heavy sleep.

Week 2 week 3 week 4

[grindelworks]

Struggling to cope with invasive "quit my job" thoughts for no obvious reason and frustrated b/c this always happens when I'm 4–6 months into a job

I'm 4 months into the best job I've ever had. Nearly off work probation. It's an office job. Cool coworkers. Fulfilling because I'm a case manager working with underprivileged kids and families that remind me of my own upbringing and it's rewarding to connect with and support others. I can dim the lights in my office when I have a migraine attack. I can play music on a little speaker while typing up progress notes. I have holidays off. Good pay. Good insurance. Good PTO. My partner and I are living well below our means so we can save money and are planning to pay my student loans off in bulk a year from now (75% of my monthly check goes to the student loan savings fund since I'm 50k in debt for a bachelor's). Overall I don't think I've experienced a better workplace so far.

So why does my brain do this to me? Why do I always get the invasive "quit your job" thoughts at around the 4-6 month mark? How do I stop it? It's worked out in the past as I've continued to get progressively better jobs (this hasn't been completely linear but overall that's been the trend). For me and my partner's goals and for our livelihood I need to just suck it up. But I legit can't even focus when I'm like this. And I know the grass isn't always greener. I don't think I'd be happy doing any job. And I don't expect a job to bring me that happiness. But knowing that I think is the reason why I wish I could work less.

I found out employees could request to have 4 day work weeks (4 days/week 10 hours/day) and I requested to switch to this so I could have a 3 day weekend every weekend. My supervisor said they didn't have a problem with it but today I found out I was denied by the directors. And I shrugged it off but I'm pretty bummed about it. Having that extra day to go birding or make art or write or rest or see my Grandma or whatever meant a lot to me and I was looking forward to it.

We get an hour lunch break and I live nearby so I can see my partner and pets in the middle of the day.

But there's no windows in our building and the hallways are a maze straight out of Severance. It's suffocating sometimes. This feeling in my chest and the thoughts in my head. I'm on sertraline for depression and anxiety and have been for years. I just started therapy again and I'll be bringing these thoughts up at our next session. But overall I just feel so checked out completely out of the blue. My therapist diagnosed me with adjustment disorder when I saw her last.

[angrywhispers7]

Horoscope for Sunday, April 20, 2025

Aries (March 21-April 19) Others are aware that you’re dealing with some surprising news related to practical or financial matters today. Never mind, you can handle this. In fact, a hidden factor may benefit you in some way. Meanwhile, those in authority respect you.

Taurus (April 20-May 20) An unexpected opportunity to travel might fall in your lap today. This could relate to the government or someone older or an obligation with a friend. For some of you, this surprise might be with the media, publishing or something to do with medical or legal matters. Stay focused.

Gemini (May 21-June 20) Today you might surprise someone in authority, or they might surprise you. Possibly this has something to do with shared property, taxes, inheritances or the wealth and resources of someone else. You might receive a favor from someone? (We can only hope.)

Cancer (June 21-July 22) You might be caught off guard today by something that a friend or partner does. This could relate to travel, religion, politics or something traditional. They might announce that they believe something that surprises you. Stay flexible for unexpected travel.

Leo (July 23-Aug. 22) Issues related to your work, your health or a pet will be a source of surprise for you today. You might rebel against authority figures. However, you will toe the line when it comes to taxes, debt, insurance issues and shared property. Benefit will come to you today.

Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22) Parents should be vigilant today because this is an accident-prone day for your kids. Meanwhile, social events will be a source of surprise. They might be canceled — or maybe you get an invitation? Practical discussions with partners will benefit you.

Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22) Your home routine will be interrupted today. Small appliances might break down or a minor breakage could occur. Surprise company might appear at your door. Whatever happens, you will handle it with common sense and grace. Your efforts at work today will bring benefit.

Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21) Pay attention to everything you say and do because this is an accident-prone day for your sign. Nevertheless, social outings will please you, and they might benefit you as well. Romantic news might surprise as well? Practicing a skill in sports or the arts will benefit you.

Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21) Keep an eye on your money and your possessions today because things are unpredictable. You might find money; you might lose money. Protect what you own against loss, theft or damage. Look for ways to improve your home by making it safer and more attractive.

Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) You crave emotional excitement today, which is why you’ll seek out people who are different. Likewise, you might want to explore different surroundings. Although you might be impulsive today, you won’t be rash. In fact, you will take advantage of pleasant, practical opportunities.

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18) This is a restless day for you. However, working behind the scenes or doing research might benefit you financially or in a practical way. You might hear a tip or a good recommendation from someone that benefits you as well. Stay light on your feet because things are unpredictable.

Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20) You might meet someone unusual today, or maybe a friend or a group will surprise you? Whatever happens will probably please you because it could have a practical benefit for you. You might also learn something that is helpful from someone older or more experienced.

[nananarc]

Gonna disclose my income as a freelance artist because I feel like it might give some perspective. And mostly bc I'm feeling a bit burnout and I want pity points ok? Lol.

Context 1: For sake of simplicity, all figures are net income (minused all fees, charges, insurance, benefits, etc)

Context 2: I live in a big city in Việt Nam and the cost of living is relatively low. A salary of 1000$/month is considered really good for someone living alone with one pet, no family or children, no debt or other liabilities. Entry level jobs usually start at around 200-300$/month.

.

Let's start in 2021 because that's when it can be considered when I started doing art professionally.

In 2021 and 2022, I was juggling between art school, a part-time online side gig, building social media for my art, and of course try to get commissions. But coms were few and far between, mainly because I didn't have an online present before and I only hang in relatively small fandoms. So all I earn through side gig and art were only some change, in total avarage to about 40$/ month. Some months made up for no income months.

In 2023, things starts to be a bit better as I get more confident in my skill, but coms are still few and far between and months with no income is still common. Side gig was few and far between too and pay less. Overall I'd say it goes up to about 80$/month.

This year 2024, art school is done, I can finally do art full time. But I was severely burnout because all the accumulated stress since waaaaay before catch up with me and i couldn't cope anymore. I have to spend a lot of time resting instead. Fortunately, I received a decent amount of coms each month, and the new patreon surprisingly got a few supporters (I fully realistically expected it to sit at 0 for at least a year). Overall, I have an 8 hours 4 days work week: 4 hours a day on com and managing social media and other stuff that actually makes money; 4 hours a day on my own projects and personal indulgence that doesn't directly make money. As of now, my income is about 180$/month.

.

You are probably wondering how the fuck do one live like this in this economy.

It's because my family is middle class and can afford a freeloader like me in their house, receive their pocket money and tuition fee. I'm privileged.

But of course my family isn't rich and if just one catastrophic event happens to us, we'd be in bad shit. I'm constantly in anxiety of money, work, and the future. It doesn't help that I'm late 20s and many people around keep reminding of how I'm not making money yet still leeching off parents. It doesn't help that, for years all i hear about art is it will just lead to failure and no money.

.

But still, I am thankful of my family for letting me stay here. And all my friends and supporters for giving me money oc lol, but more importantly, believing in me more than I ever do in myself. I read all of your little tags, your keysmash and compliments, and I keep them all dear to my heart, and I went back to them everytime I need motivation. I can't see where my future as an artist will be, but I cling to your support and love as the will to keep going. Thank you all so, so fucking much. I'd have been literally dead in a ditch somewhere without you guys.

Anyway, idk, I've always been adamant about wage transparency (especially in a corporate setting) but I rarely see this in freelance artists. except to flex, to promote the hustle culture, or to sell some courses they made. Most of us don't want/can't subscribe to the grind and have nothing to flex either. All we have is this shit economy. I'd wish we could have been more open about this and many of us wouldn't have to feel so lonely and despair all the time.

[ms-demeanor]

I've been following what's been going on with Belphie the kitten and his person, Greer Stothers, has just mentioned pet insurance in a tag on a post and I wanted to give an example from my life backing up why pet insurance can be a good idea and why I think it is worthwhile.

Two years ago my sister's dog had bloat while she was on vacation. The kennel he was staying at recognized symptoms and called my sister to clear them to take him to the emergency vet. My sister is very financially secure and this dog is an enormous part of her life, so she said yes with barely a moment of hesitation. That ended up being about twelve thousand dollars of emergency surgery.

Large Bastard and I got pet insurance for Tiny Bastard the same week because we realized that if someone had presented that option to us, we would have had no choice but to have Tiny Bastard put down, and we didn't want to be put in that position.

I did a lot of research about different kinds of pet insurance and different levels of coverage and annual maximums and deductibles and so on and so forth. Tiny Bastard is a senior dog, so this was going to be expensive no matter what options we went with, so I chose a moderately priced plan with a $500 annual deductible, unlimited annual coverage, that pays 80% of the bills incurred annually below the maximum. What that means is that we pay the first $500 of care totally out of pocket, after which point we are reimbursed 80% of any vet bills for care covered by the plan.

The first year we had this plan I was kind of iffy about it. It's a noticeable monthly expense and we didn't even spend the deductible in vet bills the first year. Except that a month before the policy was set to renew, Tiny Bastard got diagnosed with diabetes. We now have monthly insulin costs and syringe costs; there are tests she has to have regularly to monitor her overall condition and we need to do more frequent vet visits to track symptoms.

Suddenly the insulin alone means that the insurance is break-even within six months and the additional visits and tests are something we can afford instead of something we'd have to put on credit.

Our plan (through ManyPets) covers medication, surgery, diagnostics, medical equipment, and euthanasia and cremation. It doesn't cover pre-existing conditions, joint conditions for dogs who were signed up over a certain age, dental care, spay/neuter, vaccinations, or prescription food but honestly all of that makes me just kind of wish we'd signed her up earlier - her knee problems *would* be covered if we'd had her signed up as a puppy, and the monthly cost would have been lower if we'd signed her up then. And there are at least a few emergency vet bills that I wouldn't still be paying off on my credit card. Hell, I've probably paid more in interest on some bruising she got in a fight three years ago than I have for this policy as a whole.

I am glad that Greer is able to take care of Belphie. I am glad that my sister was able to take care of her dog. But I'm also really, really glad that for a relatively low cost, I would be able to take care of Tiny Bastard if she were catastrophically injured, or if she needed emergency surgery. I'm glad that I'm able to take care of her now with her medications and her additional vet visits.

There are a lot of people who say that pet insurance isn't worth it, especially not for young animals. But if your young animal gets very sick, or gets badly injured, or eats a hairband and needs an emergency endoscopy, then it will probably be VERY worth it. It's a risk/reward question. You feel like you're wasting money if you're paying for a policy that you never use, but honestly that just means you're lucky to have a healthy pet.

I'm lucky that Tiny Bastard was relatively healthy before I got the insurance; I'm also lucky that she was insured when she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that will need lifelong care. This enables me to provide care for her that would otherwise be financially unmanageable, and that makes the insurance *extremely worth it* from my perspective.

And Belphie is a good example of why it's a good idea to get coverage even for very young pets. Greer is recommending it because this kitten has required a tremendous amount of care during a period in his life when it's generally taken for granted that a cat will be healthy. (And Greer is not stupid for forgoing pet insurance - pet insurance is still a relatively new concept and there are lots of people who are leery of it for a number of good reasons)

So I'd say that if you've got a pet or are getting a pet it is very worthwhile to find a pet insurance plan that fits in your budget. There are a variety of plans out there and some are very inexpensive. Check coverage levels (you can even get some with wellness plans that include dental care and vaccinations) and see if there's something that works for you.

I personally don't think I'm ever going to own another pet without having pet insurance. It's ridiculous how much easier it is for me to say yes to diagnostic tests or different treatments than it was before because I know I'm going to be able to fit Tiny Bastard's care into our budget.

[dcmeme]

Batfam Covid series part 1

I figured out how to turn off autocorrect so it types ‘Selina’ and not ‘Selena’ woohoo! Progress! Multiple parts, all longer than usual.

Damian: Why is it everyone has to be within the same household?

Dick: Because it’s quarantine. Meaning you isolate with people you’ve been in contact with already that could have the disease.

Jason: I mean, I’ve gotta agree, this seems a bit blown out of proportion. The symptoms aren’t reading.

Tim: I think it’s more of the spread that’s of concern and those with preexisting health conditions being affected more than anything else-

Bruce: *throws tiny robots on the ground that latches to everyone’s ankles* There.

Jason: HEY! You said I wouldn’t be under house arrest again if I didn’t blow shit up (on purpose) or cause a full body cast for at least 3 weeks!

Bruce: This isn’t house arrest, this is insurance that none of you try to leave and put others at risk of infection.

Damian: That is absurd!

Dick: I gotta say, this feels a little extreme, Bruce.

Tim: Yeah, no. *takes it off*

Jason: How the f*ck?!

Tim: I’m gonna go stay at my boyfriend’s.

Bruce: The last thing you are doing is leaving this house, Tim. Like you said- it’s a major concern for those of preexisting health conditions.

Selina: I helped Alfred switch your and Damian’s old bedrooms so you are a bit more isolated-

Damian: Excuse me?! I don’t want to sleep near Helena’s room. She continues to make sounds.

Bruce: You don’t have a choice. In fact, none of you do. Not until everyone is tested- including anyone you’ve been around the last 12 days.

Dick: So no Kori?

Bruce: Has she been tested?

Dick: I mean she’s been on another planet with Mari for, like, 6 months soooo

Bruce: they’re fine to stay.

Damian: Can John come over?

Bruce: I don’t even let him over when there isn’t a pandemic.

Jason: Can’t I just be under house arrest at a safe house? I don’t care to self isolate- just let me grab a few books and I’m good for dayyys.

Bruce: Absolutely not.

Tim: Ok than let Bernard come over?

Bruce: No.

Tim: But what if he tests.

Bruce: I don’t like that boy being in my house.

Tim: Oh come on. He only broke,like, two or three things in the cave.

Jason: Didn’t that somehow include the giant penny?

Damian: and the window to the Batmobile.

Dick: *sighs* The chair to the batcomputer has squeaked ever since he left that night.

Bruce: My cape.

Alfred: He was rather harsh on the grappling hooks as well, Master Drake-

Tim: I said I loved a man, not a smart one-

Bruce: No Bernard.

Tim: oh come on! Dick gets to bring Kori!

Dick: and my kid.

Tim: Oh come on you barely see her but three times a year.

Dick: I’ve known her seven months and she’s been gone six for some Tamaranian ritual or something humans can’t be at!

Selina: Will all of you stop shouting. If my baby wakes up, I will find a way to make all of you pay.

Bruce: The only person with a second option on where they’re staying is Damian-

Jason: Bull shit!-

Bruce: Talia has asked he go back to the league’s temple since COVID hasn’t likely breeched them yet.

Damian: Can I bring my children?

Bruce: Only the dog.

Damian: than no.

Bruce: you’ll have to take that up with your mother.

Damian: I’ll make this much clear- I would sacrifice each of you individually for the sake of my children-

Tim: you mean your pets?

Damian: they are family in this house, Drake. I can’t say the same for you.

Tim: You really don’t expect me to live next to this brat for literal months, right? He’ll kill me by the end of the week! I’m much safer at my place.

Bruce: As of right now this is all of our place. Stop bickering and get used to the idea of being under the same roof for a while.

Cassandra: It could be fun! We can even have a family dinner after we’re all tested.

Damian: oh joy. Sharing food with the nuisance Drake and the pig that is Todd. Fantastic.

Jason: Don’t you have a mommy to call?

Damian: Don’t you have a casket to sleep in!

Jason: Oh f*ck you!

Bruce: now boys-

Tim: Is this seriously how you expect me to live?!

Cassandra: we can make breakfast for dinner and by then maybe the weather will be nice enough to open windows and set up candles-

Jason: you think you have it bad?! I’m surrounded by the same people who-

Damian: I better not have to sit at that dinner by Drake, Cain, or so help me god-

Bruce: enough!

Tim: For my own safety please god do not do that cass-

Jason: I don’t see why you’re complaining when I’m the one who has to-

Bruce: *louder* enough

Tim: I have a right to feel however I want!

Damian: If that is the case, I feel you should all be disowned-

Dick: why are we all arguing again?!

Damian/Tim/Jason/Bruce: SHUT UP, DICK/GRAYSON

Dick:… what did I do? 🥺

Helena: *screaming from upstairs*

Selina:…

Bruce:…

Everyone:…

Bruce:…we’ll take this outside.

Selina: That would be great, thank you.

[homocatphenomena]

How is it possible for me to be so autistic and miss 90% of social cues, yet so consistently romance repulsed? A slight expression around the eyes or change in the tone of voice is all it takes to make me wanna hurl and have my skin crawling. I stg it triggers adrenaline every time and I feel like I’m on red alert for hours after it happens. And no matter how I explain it to a partner, they almost always inevitably “forget” or decide they must be different, or we’ve been together long enough that SURELY I must have romantic feelings by now. How to explain that I am only really comfortable with physical touch from my cats? Some people I can hug, but even if my mom touches me when I’m not expecting it/we aren’t mutually initiating a touch, even that makes me feel gross. I just don’t want to be touched or looked at by any humans almost ever, and I want romance from NO ONE under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES. I can extract oxytocin from my cats thank you very much. I have stuffed animals to hold at night. And I have no need for sex because god invented porn for a reason. What’s wrong with some good old fashioned loyal lifelong friendships. I don’t hate people but I don’t want to pay the blow job tax for the rest of my life just to have a companion that I can share bills with and rely on and hang out with. I don’t want to cuddle, and if you try to gaze into my fucking eyes I might just gouge them out. But I’ll yell at your health insurance company for you and help you write a stern email to HR. I’ll do your taxes and we can travel together and hang out. God why is everyone else so fucking weird. Always making it fucking weird. Bleh!

Even when I explain this upfront, and clearly state that I’m polyamorous and I encourage them to find romance and physical affection from someone else, they never do. They’re like “you’re enough I just don’t want anyone else”. Ok well first off gross. Second, I’m not actually enough. The fake version of me that lives in your head is, but in reality, I am being pressured to regularly go way outside my comfort zone just to keep you minimally happy. And for what? So I can grow to resent you and you can constantly feel lonely and touch starved?

Holy shit please someone just make me the admin of their polycule. I will do all your budgeting and filing and boring shit in exchange for companionship, stability, and loyalty, with the stipulation that you DO NOT TOUCH ME, minimize eye contact, and do NOT make a romantic expression or voice at me. Also I need my own room because I need 5 waking hours per day minimum where I am alone in a room and cannot be seen by other people. I can be in the discord server and hanging out but there has to be a closed door between us. I am not a starter pet. I am perhaps a chameleon or parrot level difficulty polycule member but I really believe there has got to be a niche for me. I mean come on. I have a lot of love in my heart and I’m very loyal and I’m just so frustrated that that keeps getting me in these unbelievably uncomfortable situations. Just because I would carry you up mount doom to deliver the ring into the volcano does NOT mean I want to cuddle afterwards. A “wow thanks man that was really cool of you, I’ll buy you a beer” is enough. Jesus Christ.

[kaiba-cave]

I'm so excited. I've been on credit counselling since April 2020, because I had a LOAD of debt (multiple credit cards and line of credit) that I was paying a ton of money for every month, and being credit cards, the minimum payments hardly covered the interest so they never really went down, and I wanted to move out but couldn't afford it without help. With their debt consolidation, all those bills went down to just under $300 a month, that I've been paying faithfully and on time every single month since then.

WELL, I got an email from them today saying hey, you're coming up to your final payment, let us know once you've paid it so we can close your file.

And I was like. Wait, what???? FINAL PAYMENT??? Huh???

I did not realize it was even this YEAR, let alone this MONTH. I thought I was on a six year plan, but it must have only been four. When I first bought my car back in 2013, it was a six year payment, so I must have been confusing the credit counselling with that.

I also don't check my credit counselling account very often, I just pay the right amount before the 15th every month like I'm supposed to. Last time I checked it was a few months ago and I still had over $1k to pay back, so in my mind that was equal to the last two years of payments I thought I had, lmaooo. But almost $300 a month, it adds up quicker than you think, so I don't know why I didn't realize it was so soon. I only owe $202 for this month and then I'll be finished. 😭

That's almost $300 extra I'll have per month and that's so helpful. I'll also be able to get a credit card again, but seeing as that's the whole reason I needed credit counselling to begin with, I won't be getting one any time soon, lol. I do want one eventually because it helps build your credit (and mine is literally in the gutters), and I'd like to have one mostly for veterinary emergencies. I do have pet insurance but I still have deductibles and regular checkups to pay for. But I have NO self control so I have to hold off on that for as long as possible, and when I do get one, not keep it in my wallet. 😂 And have one of the lowest limits possible, like no more than 1k.

This is literally just like a weight off my shoulders, especially since the last year practically I've felt like I've had NO money, like could barely cover all my bills and basic needs. And $300 isn't A LOT, but it sure does help. Hopefully I can manage to save some of it, even if it's only $100 or so per month. Would be nice to have that.

Aaah I'm so glad.

[monstersinthecosmos]

thank you to @birdblacksocialclub for tagging! <3

Are you named after anyone? I am named after an 80's soap opera character but I cannot say more because my real name is a Tumblr secret.

When was the last time you cried? omfg I can't remember which was last but this week I cried over a BTS clip I watched of the Curb Your Enthusiasm finale and also my GOT rewatch when Dany has to lock the dragons up 😭

Do you have kids? no lmao

Do you use sarcasm a lot? I THINK I USE IT MEDIUM for humor but I don't use it often in actual conversation because I don't want to be mean and I think it doesn't really come across over text.

What sports do you play? I HULA HOOP AND LIFT WEIGHTS IDK IF THAT COUNTS thats it that's the extent of my athletic pursuits

What’s the first thing you notice about people? in person probably their clothes, online probably THE STUFF THEY SHIP and then the tone with which they write meta 🤣

What’s your eye colour? Blue but I have partial heterochromia in my right eye so it's also brown.

Scary movies or happy endings? MANY SCARY MOVIES HAVE HAPPY ENDINGS WHAT DO YOU MEAN but scary movies

Any special talents? I can write I guess lol.

Where were you born? Long Island

What are your hobbies? fanfic writing, arts & crafts!, VERMICOMPOSTING, gardening!

Do you have any pets? I HAVE 2 THEY ARE VERY CUTE they are cat siblings named Ghost Pepper and Scrambles and they are about 21 months old!

How tall are you? 5'8

Favourite subject in school? dude idk I dropped out, I was miserable all day. When I went to college I had a lot of fun in Film Lit and the weirder photo electives.

Dream job? If I could make consistent money off photography and have it be my only job that would be so nice but the way it is now I find the business side of it so stressful that I prefer the setup I have now in which I have a cushy corporate admin job that pays the bills and allows me the freedom to have creative hobbies that I can do for fun without them being my job. I would love it if I could get into social work fields and do like community building and advocacy but they don't pay enough and/or I'd have to get more college and I can't afford it so !? Idk all I really want is something that pays me enough and lets me have hobbies but if it was something I felt good about doing that would be ideal. The company I work for now is morally acceptable for me because it helps people navigate the health insurance disaster in this country but I would also love to do work that would FIX the health insurance disaster in the first place, you know?

ANYWAY this was fun thanks!

tagging @apoptoses @rugbertgoeshome @ihaventcomeupwthanameforaheroyet @uncivilcivilservice @baba-o-riledup @defamink

[bronanlynch]

it took me over nine months to finish ace attorney 5 but here we are with the lawyer rankings (of whose file clerk I'd rather be)

athena: once again I draw the line at working for a teenager, and also I would be so uncomfortable if she ever tried to tell me what emotion she knew I was feeling. cannot stress how miserable that would be for me, and also a discrimination lawsuit waiting to happen. also, emotions-based lawyering doesn't seem likely to produce as much paperwork as I would like, since that leaves me with less to do. 2/10, of course there's discord in my heart I'm at work leave me alone.

apollo: if he started his own firm I would work for him in a heartbeat but unfortunately him leaving and then coming back to the wright anything agency is not great in terms of like, job security for his hypothetical file clerk. like, do I get laid off when he leaves and then brought back when he returns a few days later? I want a little more stability than that, sorry. 7/10, he would at least help get my benefits paperwork sorted out and I appreciate that in a boss.

phoenix: Idk has he learned how to pay his staff yet because judging by the repetition of the ending bit abt how he doesn't want to buy them noodles the answer seems to be no. "your bonus this year is a pizza party" kind of boss except you have to buy your own pizza. sure he's learned how to be a more supportive mentor to athena than he was to apollo but my boss's faith in me will not pay my rent. 3/10, phoenix you're dating the chief prosecutor surely you can do better than this.

edgeworth: he's gotten his shit together in a way that makes me very proud of him, and he does seem to care abt his employees. also he looks good in those glasses. 8/10, if he can get blackquill's conviction overturned he can make sure I have dental insurance.

payne: the thing about payne is that he doesn't listen to the things people tell him and he doesn't seem to learn anything ever, and that's a very frustrating quality in a boss. the kind of boss that tells you to do something but explains it badly and when you ask a clarifying question he responds with even more incomprehensible bullshit. half of your email responses to him are just copying and pasting things you've already told him. 2/10, every interaction with him is a sisyphean nightmare.

blackquill: trying to process the ethics of an imprisoned prosecutor (they make him wear a shock collar in court jesus fucking christ) makes my brain short-circuit but that's also just the ace attorney experience. other than that he seems like a decent boss, as long as you can overlook some of his uh dramatic tendencies and also as long as he doesn't sic taka on you. but I think if you had a good rapport with him it would be fine, even if it would probably mean a lot of transcribing bc presumably he'd have to hand-write anything he wants to file with the court and send them to you via bird and then you'd have to type them up and actually submit them. 6/10, honestly he gains several points just because I want to pet taka.

professor means: he's so smug, is the thing. he's just the smuggest man and he treats his students like idiots so I can't imagine he'd be any better and less condescending to his employees. he's probably looking for every excuse to be like "gotcha! you made one (1) minor error (that isn't even actually an error, it's just that he personally would have done it differently" and because everything has to be a Teaching Moment he'll bring it up in department meetings and also use you as an example in his classes. 3/10, he gains a few points for his awareness that the legal system is fucked up and rigged in favor of the prosecution and then loses most of those points for being a condescending asshole.

klavier: he would be fine probably. presumably his office is in the same state as it was in aa4, which is not ideal, as it stresses me out when filing cabinets are so full/disorganized that you can't close the drawers. on the other hand maybe that was just because he hadn't gotten around to dealing with it yet and he's not living like that on purpose and he would appreciate a file clerk to help him get his shit together. 7/10, just don't call me fraulein and we'll be fine.

( aa1 | aa2 | aa3 | aa4 | aai | dgs1 | dgs2 )