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[zae-heeyyy]

Evanesce

Summary: You try to runway. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 3,673 Tags: angst, smut, mid-low honor Arthur, handjob, unprotected p in v, oral, breeding kink, tb? Don’t know her. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, toxic relationship

An: I feel like I ran a never ending marathon with this one. Drafted it a month ago, but I never really vibed with it. Challenged myself to just get it done and make sure I was proud of it. Once again, I'm trying to step out of my comfort zone. Shout out to @googoolies for the note idea! As always, I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

Tagging @hihomeghere because you asked ❤️

Evanesce: to dissipate like vapor

Worn floorboards of Shady Bell wailed under Arthur’s weight as songbirds began their morning melodies. The gunslinger scoped the eerily empty, quiet camp for traces of you, but all he found was a folded letter on his pillow.

Echoes of your last conversation flashed in his mind as he tramped across the narrow room to retrieve the note. Two nights ago, The Old Guard overlooked their kingdom from the second-floor balcony as they discussed their plans to wage war against Angelo Bronte. Bile stung the back of your throat as two-thirds of the trio outruled the other. Hosea’s final words to Dutch and Arthur, “You’ll damn us all,” filled you with dread and the overwhelming feeling of impending doom.

Arthur avoided your shadowed eyes as he reloaded his weapons and ignored your outcry against Dutch’s plan. Your desperation had turned swiftly to indignation, and an argument commenced, your voices clashing like swords. You begged him not to go, pleading with the enforcer to listen to reason for once, to listen to you. But he pushed back with the shield of obstinance he had long forged for survival. 

“I don’t take orders from you, woman, and keep your goddamn voice down.”

Thousands of tiny needles pricked at the backs of your eyes at the harsh directive, but you held firm. 

“Arthur, if you go I’ll–” 

“Don’t,” he warned dismissively, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and ambling to the door. He didn’t even bother saying goodbye as he twisted the knob. Your last words fell on ears deafened from years of gunfire. 

“If you leave, I won’t be here when you come back.”

Two days later, Arthur masked his guilt with anger as he skimmed over the last piece of you left in the room. Four words in the polite loops of your handwriting taunted him: Saint Denis. Train. Running. 

After a quick check of the cinch, he found himself begrudgingly engulfed in the city of smog and greed he’d come to hate so much. Riding through the maze of cobblestone, brick, and vermin was like laying under a guillotine, staring up at the blade and waiting for it to drop. Law on every corner, people jammed together, and now, Bronte’s men out for revenge–none of it felt right. 

Taking in a breath that didn’t reach deep enough, he started his search for you in this hornets’ nest of a city. Most of the hotels and saloons served him with nothing but a heavy dose of adrenaline and dead ends. As he approached Doyle’s Tavern, his last stop, he dug his nails into his trembling palm, savoring the sting of apathy that came with the pain.

Arthur made a beeline to Gabe Doyle, reciting his rehearsed description of you. A woman standing beside him, whose garments had seen cleaner days, tapped him on the shoulder. The outlaw didn’t even look at her, didn’t give her time to speak before he rejected her with razor-edge disdain. When Arthur finished, Gabe only shrugged his shoulders, but the woman, still standing close by, let out a derisive giggle.

“He won’t be of no help, mista’. Coulda’ told ya’ for free, but it’ll cost ya’ now.”

Ire made his ears ring, drowning out all the other sounds in the slum’s saloon. He drummed his fingers hard on the worn wooden bar, the taste of pride sour on his tongue. 

“How much?” 

Cleavage spilled over her top as she leaned towards him and twiddled brazenly with the collar of his shirt. 

“Well, for clients that play nice, seven dollars, but for you, rotten dirty bastard––times it by ten.” 

A minute later, he exited Doyle’s Tavern not a cent lighter, heavy with an indefinite ban, but finally, a real lead on you. Four new mocking words overshadowed ones from the letter: Whore house; Courtenay Street. 

A brothel—a goddamn brothel. 

Instinct lured him to the debauched inn, and your name frothed from his muzzle in more of a growl than speech. Like a rabid dog, he snapped and barked orders at the women unlucky enough to be trapped with the beast on the arena floor.

They tried futilely to stop his march down the hall, tried to keep him from getting to you, but the chaos drew you into the colosseum and into the lion’s direct line of sight. You yanked the man-turned-animal by the sleeve and sealed yourselves away before he could do any more damage. 

More tame now, sea storm orbs surveyed you in a quick but covert once over, then he spun on his heel, searching for anything else to focus on.

“Christ, been looking for you all day, woman,” he bit out through clenched teeth. 

The lone wolf prowled the new territory for a threat but was only met with a vacant cave and the empty feeling of shame. Deflecting, he found your luggage, lifting the bags with the practiced ease of carrying buckets of water to and fro. His biceps flexed with the weight of your whole life in one bag, but he nodded at you, matter of fact. 

“C’mon. M’taking you home.”

Home. You could’ve laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. None of these places had ever been home.

“I ain’t going nowhere with you,” you fired back, grabbing for the suitcase in his hand. A brief game of tug-of-war ensued, your grip relentless, Arthur’s unwavering, until he finally let you pull one of the bags free. He dropped the other and exhaled with the sharpness of a saber but stayed silent at the conclusion of your weaponless duel. He’d fallen in love with that gnawing defiance, but now it was tearing him to pieces, bit by bit until it exposed the marrow of pure anger.

“Runnin’ off is one thing.” His nostrils flared, and the timbre of his voice deepened as he carried on, “But running off t’here–– selling yourself?” He shook his head and blew air through his teeth, “Yer crazier than I thought.”

You whirled away from him, swatting your hand like he was as insignificant as a fly.

“And you’re a bigger idiot than I thought. Ain’t selling myself, you damn fool! And I’ll do whatever the hell I please. Right now, I want to get far away from this shit city and you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said, dragging out the words. “I know you just as well as you think you know me. If you wanted away–really wanted away–you wouldn’t’ve left this pretty little letter, and sure as hell wouldn’t’ve told me where to find ya’.” He retrieved the letter from his satchel, held it up just long enough for you to see, and crushed it in his fist before discarding it on the floor.

“That’s what I think of your pretty little letter.” 

You had started a slow involuntary backtrack during his monologue, the flight response pushing back against the fight. He followed, sandwiching you between himself and the door.

“Screw you.” Scorn was hot on your breath.   

Just as you thought to turn the knob, to free yourself from the prison of flesh and wood, the iron teeth of a bear trap, his fingers, clamped around your wrist, bringing your hand to eye level. 

“And you still got something of mine.”

Both pairs of eyes landed on a small round sparkling opal set in a gold band on your left ring finger.

You’d never forget finding it on your pillow along with a letter from Arthur that just said, “One day…”

He had made promises he didn’t keep. First, you just had to wait for the Ferry Job. Next, you needed to survive Colter. Then you had to get far away from the Pinkertons, and most recently, all you needed to do was help case the Lemoyne National Bank. One last job, he’d told you. It was the same thing he said before leaving for that boat in Blackwater.

Contempt flowed through your veins as you tried to wrench free. God, you hated him right now, but you hated yourself more for letting him fool you.

“Let go.” You hissed, seething. 

Your hand throbbed as he gave your wrist another squeeze.

“You first.” Then he nodded towards the stone on your finger. “My ring,” he demanded.

Your knuckles collided with the wood of the door with a hard knock as you freed your hand. You flattened your palm against the wood behind your back, guarding the ring from the career thief’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you shot back, sinking into yourself. “It’s mine.” 

Your finger throbbed around the ring you’d seldom taken off. It had become part of you, melded to your skin like a vine coiled around a tree in a beautiful and deadly embrace. 

“Yours?” he huffed incredulously, shaking his head, trying to form your words into something he could understand. For a short beat, the heavy huff and puff of his breath was the only thing you could register. 

You had mined forever to find something other than cold coals of anger within him. You thought you’d found it—thought you’d finally struck gold when he confessed his feelings for you somewhere out west all that time ago. Now, you were left wondering if it was only fool’s gold you had stumbled upon. The cowardly knight was far too proud and far too afraid of getting stabbed to lay down his armor. But you were having a silent conversation with those sad eyes, reading words he’d never speak or ask aloud. What does that make me, then? 

“Yours.” He answered his inner thoughts without hesitation.

Mine. You thought back but only stared at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of cracking under his scrutiny. 

“Yours.” He repeated assuredly, final. 

It was your turn to shake your head now; you could hear his vocal cords vibrating, generating sounds you were supposed to understand, but he may as well have been speaking another language because what the hell did he know about being anybody else’s? You repeated your thoughts bluntly.

For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his hand shot out, cupping your jaw and tilting your face toward his. He was so close, you could smell him now. The scents of liquor on his breath and leather in his hat permeated your whole being.

“You don’t think–” His voice was low and trembling with fury. “I been yours since the goddamn day I laid eyes on you, and you know it.”

Fight, flight, freeze, and now fawn all warred for dominance. Twin mirrors of blue cosmos peered into your soul, but you didn’t look back, knowing that black holes of destruction ruled in the center and could swallow you in the blink of an eye.

“You have to go, Arthur.”

You tried to reach for the knob again, but Arthur imposed on you further, his chest brushing against yours. 

“No,” he said. “I ain’t going nowhere without you, and you ain’t going nowhere without me. M’done talking about it.”

It’s like he couldn’t listen, couldn’t hear you, couldn’t respect what you wanted. He only ever responded to shouting and violence. So you dipped down to his level, anything to get him to understand. Your open hand pushed full force against his chest, knocking the wind from him and making him stumble backward.

“You don’t own me, Arthur Morgan!”  

But the shouting was no use. He closed in on you again, and you reached out, clenching your fists in his shirt to stop his advance. If he noticed, he didn’t let on, talking with a tight jaw.

“No, dammit, cause you own me.” 

You balled your fists around cotton fabric and pulled him down into you, inhaling like you were bracing for the worst. This game, Predator and Prey, had become second nature to you. You would always be his fawn, thrashing and wailing, yet never escaping the salivating jaws of the coyote. And it always ended the same: a clash of heavy breathing and snarls before you surrendered.

Tobacco and whiskey never tasted so good, and they were just as addictive as him. Your teeth clashed together, and his left hand fell to your hip while his right twisted the lock on the knob. 

He was never gentle, but now, he was almost crazed. Rough hands that were trembling only an hour ago were all over you, gripping your jaw, sliding under your blouse, pushing and pulling you to his whim.

“Falling in love with you was the dumbest thing I ever did,” you confessed as he removed his hat and set it aside; he had better access to you without it. Heat surged through you as his hands bit into your hips, pinning you in place against the locked door. 

You mumble under your breath, “Bastard.”  

So far, he was ignoring your attempts to rouse him; you were his pretty little doe, caught in his chops, and a few barbs wouldn’t keep him from utterly devouring you. Dipping his head into your neck, he fixated on that pulsing artery, taking no time to roll the flesh between his teeth.

“Goddamn asshole,” you huffed but cradled his head as he claimed you.

He brushed over the ruptured blood vessels with his knuckles, and the bastard was smiling, eyes glazed over with lust and self-indulgence. Electricity sparked down your legs as he looped his fingers in the waistband of your skirt. 

You swore to yourself two nights ago that it was all over, that you wouldn’t let him slither back, yet here you were, Eve, being tempted by the serpent. Teeth sank into the forbidden fruit with the lift of your hips off the door, giving him permission to snatch both your skirt and bloomers down in a swift pull. Arthur didn’t need much persuasion to eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil; a man like him could have never lived for eternity in The Garden of Eden. 

The pair of you wore pride like heraldry, but neither of you was as honorable as you’d led the other to believe. You, provoking him with the threat of leaving, knowing you’d let this happen as you always did, and him never changing and never stopping the cycle of broken promises. 

Your scent was intoxicating, but he held off from relishing it, studying your face like he’d done many times before. Something was different this time, though. Only for a heartbeat, you saw something in his eye, a minuscule hint of vulnerability. You blinked, and it was gone like it was never there, replaced by an unabashed smirk. You kept the insults flying. 

“Jerk.”

Hearing the laugh rumble in his chest made your skin prick up the same way it did when a thunderstorm was brewing on the horizon. The cowboy braced his hands against your thighs and peeked up at you, his lips still curved in the corners.

He lifted his eyebrow in question, “You done?”

“Shut up,” you responded, tangling your fingers in his hair and guiding him, not so gracefully, to the heat between your legs. 

Obeying, he flicked his tongue out to lap at you, drawing you closer in a hug, his palms resting on the curve of your ass cheeks. Steadying yourself against the door, you tugged on his hair like reins, but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. You grunted and cursed under your breath as that gluttonous, greedy grifter feasted on you. 

Blasphemous sounds rose up from your chest as you rocked your hips feverishly with every swipe of his warm wet tongue against your clit. Every tug of his locs and bump of your mound into his nose sent blood pulsing full speed to the bulge in his pants. He knew you were dancing dangerously close to the cliff’s overhang by the way you were keeping him in place, right where you wanted him. But the brute stopped and locked eyes with you, lips curved downward. That slight glimpse of vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier was now on full display.

“Say you won’t go,” he choked out. 

Down on his knees, looking up at you with genuine sincerity was the closest he’d ever get to prayer or penance. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat but didn’t answer him.

Instead, you ushered him back to his feet and crashed your lips into his again, tangling your tongue with his.

In a swift motion, you popped his suspenders loose while you walked him backward. The backs of his knees hit the bed, and he shimmied off his multiple layers just as quick as you unfastened the buttons on your blouse. You stood before him, a goddess, determining his eternal fate. And he waited, fixated on you, languidly stroking his engorged cock while you decided.

You replaced his fisted grip with yours, bending to meet his eye. The almost frown on his face made you wonder what he was seeing staring back at him. You imagined your pupils blown out, your lips swollen, and your hair disheveled. Arthur was the only man in the world who could turn you into a vixen. 

“You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan.” Your noses were almost touching as you tightened your grip and stroked him painfully slowly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he nodded, his face downright solemn. 

“Mhm,” you went on, rubbing circles atop his hot, leaking pink tip. Your pace quickened as your cheek grazed his. A shiver ran through him as the vibrations of your voice tickled his ear.

“No good, thieving, murderous bastard.” 

“I know.” He drew out, tightly clutching the sheets. With a firm nudge, you urged him onto his back. 

“You don’t deserve me. Never did,” you continued. His hips jutted in time with your wrist, his climax sitting low in his balls.  

“I–dammit–I–kn–know.”

The muscles of his stomach constricted as he fought for breath, damn near suffocating under your touch. 

“I’ll change.” He gasped, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “I’ll change. But–ahh–I ain’t ever gonna be good enough for you, woman–nghh–no matter how much changin’ I do.”

Air finally flowed back through with the halt of your pumping. The mattress sunk with your added weight as you slung your legs on either side of him. Neither party stalled. You gave him a quick nod before he could even ask, and he sank his length into your warm, wet pussy. There were no hushing kisses, no waiting for you to adjust, no cajoling, just the smacking of skin and the aroma of sex in the room as he molded you to his girth. Bashfulness had never even crossed your mind. You rode him tirelessly, whimpering, gasping, and filling the air with his name. 

The roles reversed; you were the animal now, a lioness pursuing a buck. Chasing the high, you galloped hard and fast and grinding your hips against his to relieve the throbbing ache in your clit. You massaged the sensitive nub between your thighs, indulging in the pleasure you were giving yourself and receiving from him. The tip of his cock bumped that sweet spot inside of you, the one that made you tense and cry out over and over again. 

You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know what he was doing to you or how he was making you feel–how he always made you feel when he was burrowed deep inside of you. You couldn’t hide from him, though. He knew you–knew the faces and sounds you made, knew the way you tightened around him, knew how you stiffened, knew how your breathing shallowed when you were on the edge. He knew the control he’d have over you forever.

“You ain’t going nowhere.” He grunted as he pounded up into you, the knot in his stomach tightening with his own upcoming release. 

“Fucker,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, and you love it.” 

You couldn’t deny it.

He took your hand in his and felt for the ring on your finger, stroking it, all while keeping eye contact and hammering relentlessly into your velvety walls. Four more thrusts and your eyes rolled back as the lightbulb of tension burst.

“That’s right, let it go, there it is.” Muttering, his upward ruts got sloppier as you rode out your body-spasming orgasm. Then he started babbling, lost in your sweet heat,

“Shit, I’m–bout t–m’close.”

The cowboy tried to lift you up, tried not to spill inside of you, but you buried your head in the crook of his neck and lowered yourself back down, taking him balls deep.

“Goddamnit,” he growled, hugging you to his chest, “the hell you doing, t’me, woman?” He panted and stared up at the ceiling like a man condemned. 

“Ain’t going nowhere,” you echoed breathlessly, still bouncing, before adding, “Yours.” 

In a few more strokes, he filled you up, grunting through his teeth and cursing up a storm that’d make even the most seasoned sailors look on timidly.

Outside noises of the establishment and the streets of Saint Denis droned back in as both of you came back to your senses. An ocean of things was left unsaid as you redressed and let Arthur lead you out of the room and to a proper hotel for the night. The next morning, you took Arthur up on his offer to get away for a few days. As the train you had boarded for your trip chugged on, something in the distance piqued your interest, a small homestead. You could vaguely make out a woman sitting on the porch and a man, presumably her husband, tending to a horse nearby. Of course, you didn’t know their life or their struggles, but if you could write your own happily ever after, it would be that. Arthur nudged you with his elbow, interrupting your daydream.  

“M’sorry...about everything,” he said, low, barely audible. The perpetual ache in your chest had almost gone numb after so long. Almost. 

“I know.” You replied and turned back to the window. The house was out of sight now, and you had a feeling your fairy tale ending had vanished with it.

[madame-fear]

*ೃ༄ 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐎𝐒 .ೃ࿐

★ amira speaks! : dedicated to my sweet @lady-ashfade. Happy Birthday, my most dear love! I hope your day is filled with people that love you as much as we all love you in here. I wish you health, safety, joy, and tons of success in your life !! I adore you, you are one of my fave people in here, and you deserve all the best. Enjoy this, sweetie! 🩷 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : your husband, Lord Lucerys Velaryon, gets a bit too possesively jealous when another Lord flirts with you by making silly jokes and remarks, and you giggle along. But, your Lord Husband will teach you how to behave — and who you truly belong to. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 2.8k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : smut, dom/sub (maybe, I think?). ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jealous!Lord!Lucerys x Wife!Reader

WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; possesive behaviour, Dom!Lucerys, spanking, slight profanity, fingering, cunnilingus (oral sex, female receiving), slight praising.

Jealousy was a fiery thrill when it came to your husband, Lord Lucerys Velaryon.

For him, it’s a juxtaposition between aggressive possesiveness, and arousal. It was knowing that, as much as he craved to turn into ashes the person provoking jealousy on him with a simple dragonfire, he would simultaneously get to have you under his mercy — prove who you belong to.

There was nothing that caused more jealousy on him, than seeing someone having the audacity to flirt with you. Not even his older brother Jacaerys was spared with Luke’s possesiveness, when Jace sweetly offered his hand to you for a dance one day, during a dinner feast.

Of course, Jacaerys was doing nothing but merely trying to be the gentleman he had always been with you, plus a good brother-in-law and friend you could trust in. Yet, Lucerys, despite being delighted at the sight of you being happy and bonding with his family, couldn’t help but feel that overwhelming burning jealousy over his older brother. And, as expected, the (then) young Velaryon prince fucked your brains out afterwards.

Despite having the need of being dominantly feral over you in a possesive manner — he managed to treat you softly, proving that he could be even far more delicate and loving than his brother; pampering you with soft kisses, neck bites, and fucked you in a way that made you crave for more of his gentle touch.

But, his gentleness over your body faded away at the sight of another man that wasn’t part of his family having the audacity to flirt with you right in front of his face. Especially, the audacity of another Lord that had tried to flirt with you during a feast Luke hosted in Driftmark, shortly after being officially named Lord and Lady of the Tides, right in front of his face.

The way giggles spurred from your lips so sweetly at the most stupid remarks the other Lord did, with a honey-like sound, inevitably made the young Velaryon boy clench his jaw discreetly with ire. You were so endearingly delicate, like the petal of a flower, and the most polite woman — needless to say, you were charmingly precious. How could the other Lords not try and flirt with you?

Which, of course, the second the Lord had gotten far too close to your body, Lucerys had to intervene by abruptly showing up by your side, pressing a quick smooch to your lips, and possesively wrap an arm around your waist while giving the other Lord a death glare. It was his way to establish his dominance in a public space, in front of other men.

And in private? This type of jealousy wouldn’t so easily fade away from him by merely gluing your body to his own in front of the other Lord. You had to be taught your lesson, of not trying to get along with other Lords so easily. And Lucerys would teach you how to behave.

The sound of soft, yet firm fleshy sounds echoed through the walls of your private quarters, along your own hushed gasps. Laying on Lucerys’ lap, your hands gripped on the silky sheets, digging your nails deep into the texture as you bit your lower lip. His hand continously kept smacking your sensitive ass that already had a shade of red forming on your skin with each slap.

“You can only belong to me.” another gasp spurred deep from your throat, making you grip yourself tighter on the sheets, feeling the bittersweet stinging pain in your ass as Lucerys kept smacking it; increasing the pressure as he kept going. “I’m the only one who can pamper you with my love. The only one that knows exactly how to fuck you.”

Every smack he did with the palm of his hand against your rear, also hit against your achingly needy, wet cunt. Occasionally, his fingertips brushed against your folds on purpose, for the fun of seeing you squirm. “And if I need to, I could spend all night long spanking your pretty little reddened ass, until you learn how to behave, and who you belong to.”

The way he spanked you was dreadfully delicious, enjoying the stinging pain leisurely appearing around your — already reddish — skin, and your stimulated pussy. “M-My Lord,” you whispered faintly, gasping with each smack, feeling your nipples harden in arousal under your nightgown. “I-I can only be yours, and no one else’s. I promise I will behave.”

Noticing the way your cunt was already stimulated, along your ass being reddened and the sound of quiet pleasured whimpers escaping from your beauteous lips, caused a grin to tug at the corner of his rosy lips. You were such a good girl when it came to being put in your place and behaving, as well as a fast learner that obeyed to every one of his orders. “Repeat that for your Lord, dōna riña.”

Another spank surprised you, making you whince as you clenched your jaw, feeling the sore skin on your ass stinging from the repeated hand motions, and the sounds increased the more firmer his hand became against your stimulated skin. “I-I am only yours, my Lord– Fuck!” his smile grew wider as in the middle of your stuttered words, he smacked your ass louder, and harder this time; enjoying how you were both wet from arousal, yet, Luke knew his spanking was rough at times and the pain was sore on your flesh.

“I... I only belong to my Lord of Driftmark, Lucerys Velaryon, and I will behave for him.” you managed to mumble out, trying to catch your breath. The tight grip you held on the sheets loosened, feeling your hands tremble weakly. His proud grin remained at your submission, as the same hand that was used to spank you groped your ass tenderly, making your breath hitch.

Not only his touch was warm, but as well it was firmly possesive over you; using his thumb to trace shapes on your sore flesh gently, squeezing your ass in a teasing manner. And in a ravenous manner for your cunt, his fingers moved upwards to brush against your pussy, enjoying the feeling of your moist folds being rubbed against his digits.

Gods, you were so pretty when you held back your moans and whimpers from pleasure. It was undeniable that Lucerys was the only one that knew how to be so rough, yet so gentle. And he could be rougher, if he wanted to.

“Good girl. So obedient for your Lord and husband.” he praised, looking down at you with his green hazel eyes. While doing so, his fingernails scraped your skin merely to admire the goosebumps you had when he touched you that way. “You deserve to be rewarded for learning who you belong to, issa perzītsos.” as you still remained laying on his lap, quivering under his touch, his hand continued to explore your skin, only to then slightly lower the skirt of your dress.

“Sit.” Luke ordered, in a firm whisper. Eagerly and obediently for your husband, you did as he had commanded to you. The marks and bruises left from the previous spanking, along the reddened sore flesh stung the moment you stood up, and the moment you sat at the edge of the bed. But of course, you weren’t complaining; you had great pleasure when your husband disciplined you just like that, and became feral from jealousy.

With trembling legs, you sat on the edge of the bed, with both of your hands at your sides. Quietly, you observed how your husband stand from where he had been sitting — and spanking you —, and place himself in front of you, only to immediatly lower himself on his knees. “Let me show you just how much I adore you.” at his words, your breath hitched, feeling your chest rising and falling constantly. Both his hands went to your legs, spreading them apart carefully, and you unconsciously helped him to do so by spreading them yourself as well. The sexual tension between the two of you lingering on the atmosphere made your pussy glisten with aroused moist, aching to feel his cock, or tongue, or fingers inside of you.

Softly, his lips were pressed against your knee. With tender smooches, keeping his lips lingering on your skin for several seconds before continuing, he moved upwards towards your inner thigh. Each kiss made a shiver run down your back, gripping the sheets tighter as your gaze was fixed on the way he so sweetly moved to kiss your inner thigh. Every passing second made you feel wetter in between your legs, with slick dripping from your cunt excitedly to feel him.

Having reached your inner thigh, his lips focused on placing several smooches on that overly sensitive zone of your skin, and occasionally nibbling on it as to leave a bitemark. Teasingly, as he focused on moving dreadfully slow towards your pussy with his lips, his fingertips began grasping against your wet folds, making you release a soft gasp from your partly open lips. “Fuck.” you breathed out, fluttering your eyes shut as you panted softly. The feeling of your wetness being enough to coat his fingertips as they stroked you gently made him proudly grin at his own work, moving his hand so his fingers would apply pressure on your clit. “So wet for me, already?” Lucerys teased, looking up at you with his green eyes before finally focusing on your aching sex.

“W-Why are you surprised, Lord Husband?” you retorted back in a stutter, slowly opening your eyes to stare at him, and in response, he scoffed in a playful manner. The seconds felt dreadful until the young Lord decided that it was time to give you your very much needed reward, but when he did, your eyes closed again and a groan escaped deeply from your groan. His hot breathing hit against your wetness, feeling his lips become glossy with your slick as they focused on pressing tender kisses on your folds. Not one inch of your genitalia was safe from his kisses, and his tongue that occasionally appeared between those pecks to tease you further.

You tasted just like sweet honey, and he couldn’t get enough of savouring you. By the time his tongue was already vehemently passing through your wet cunt, selfishly drinking from your moistness, his fingers began teasing your entrance. The sound of your growls and the feeling of your wetness increasing to the point it dripped down onto the sheets made his cock throb with need. He so badly wanted to roll you on your stomach, and fiercely fuck you from behind like you deserved to be fucked - but he preferred to patiently wait, and reward you with little treats and some pampering.

“You taste so, so sweetly, issa dōna riña.” Lucerys whispered, between his soft nibbling on your wet folds before moving to take care of your sensitive clit. His fingers immediatly entered your tight, hot pussy — making you lean your hips forwards to encourage Lucerys to move his fingers deeper. “L-Luke,” you moaned in between quiet pants, feeling your body nearly melt the moment his lips nibbled on your sensitive nub. “And you take me so well. What a beautifully obedient girl you are.”

Vehemently, his fingers began deeply moving in, and then out in a continous manner. His lips focused on your clitoris, nibbling, sucking, and kissing it desperately to increase the delightful sound of your moans. Whenever he groaned against your sex, and he increased his finger fucking, you could feel a knot forming inside your stomach. A fiery heat tightened on your chest, sliding your hand down onto the back of his head, intertwining your fingers in between dark strands of his hair, pushing him deeper. “P-Please, don’t stop.” you begged in between ragged moans and pants, in a rather desperate manner.

“I don’t intend to. I plan on drinking from your sweet tasting pussy tonight, my love.” Luke murmured, pulling apart briefly, with his lips glossy from your own lubrication before going back to his deeds. His mouth hungrily ate your throbbing cunt, trying to catch the strong flush of wetness continously oozing from you as his fingers moved faster and deeper inside of you, trying to stimulate you further.

The knot on your stomach became tighter, as well as the heat overwhelming your chest. Throwing your head back with your eyes shut, pulling him deeper in between your legs as he kept stimulating you, your moans intensified. Their sound became slightly high-pitched the closer you felt to cumming in his fingers and mouth, with some whimpers mixed in your moans. “L-Lucerys!” his name kept escaping mindlessly from your lips, not managing to form a proper sentence. “I-I think I’m about to cum.”

It seemed that your words were all that he needed to hear, besides your continous whimpers of pleasures and the way his name rolled from your mouth so endearingly. “Cum, then, my sweet.” he encouraged, with his own breath sharpened by the intensity of his arousal. One of his hand took hold of your leg, digging his nails deep into your skin, while his other hand moved his two fingers more intensely inside of you, making almost a fleshy sound.

Slowing down on the motion with his fingers, he managed for his thumb to stroke your clit and apply pressure on it. “Cum for your Lord Husband.” his tongue moved around your entrance, teasing it further as he delighted himself with the sweet taste of your cum. At his words, your shaking hand desperately caressed his messy brunette hair, pulling slightly strands of his curly hair as you could feel yourself reaching your climax.

In between hot, moaned pants, his name continously spurred from your lips as your eyes closed, throwing your head slightly back in pleasure. From your partly opened lips, all types of sounds escaped from them faintly, progressively becoming louder the closer you were to orgasming, and cumming into his mouth. The young Velaryon Lord seemed pleased with the noises he was making you do, growling pleased against your sensitive pussy as he desperately ate you out the wetter you became.

The knot that had formed on your stomach abruptly broke out, coming out as a pleasant flush of wet, slick cum against his lips, and his tongue wasted no time in taking all of the sweet taste of yourself that you offered to him — pussydrunk from your cum as if his life depended on it.

The way you yelled his name had intensified in sound, which satisfied him because, surely, it could be heard from outside your private chambers. Several satisfied growls escaped from him, enjoying the way your hand gripped his hair. His hot breath continously hitting against your wet folds as he devoured you, making you squirm under him. It felt as if a wave of relief washed over you the moment you felt all the built-up tension be released, and him being delighted by it.

Violently, your legs trembled as soon as you had finished cumming into his mouth. The feeling of your own lubrication oozing down from you, moistening your inner thighs and the sheets below, made you softly shiver. Your hands weakly gripped the sheet, digging your nails as Lucerys continued to caress gently your wet folds with his tongue and fingers for a few more seconds shortly after you had orgasmed, just to tease you further and observe the way you so beautifully squirmed delicately under his touch.

“I don’t think I could possibly grow tired of tasting you, my love.” before pulling away, moving his cum-coated fingers out of your pussy, he placed a kiss on your overstimulated nub; which made you shiver. His hazel green eyes stared at you as he scraped his nails on your leg, across your skin.

“You taste so good, I could spend hours like this... Seeing you squirm so beautifully, cumming on my tongue.” a little grin formed at the corner of his lips, rising slightly as he had been kneeling in between your legs, just to caress your skin under your chin. Noticing the crimson tint creepin on your cheeks, the young Velaryon Lord placed his glossy lips against you tenderly, allowing you to feel your own taste.

The kiss deepened heavily, as if he were devouring, and savouring your taste. As Luke pulled away, his lips lingered on your own, grasping gently against each other while his panting breath delicately hit your skin. “You are mine, and no one else’s.” his voice whispered quietly, as his fingertips continued tracing shapes on your inner thigh in a slow manner, while his rosy lips littered your chin, cheeks, tip of your nose, and lips with several loving pecks.

If this is what you would get for merely giggling at the remarks of another flirting Lord, you were going to make sure to get Lucerys as jealous as possible more often — it was as if Luke was encouraging to keep going, and you would.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @keiratonks @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Juan Carlos Lara at KQED:

The Federal Communications Commission is investigating San Francisco-based KCBS for its coverage of immigration enforcement actions in San José last month, sparking concerns from press freedom advocates and drawing right-wing backlash to the radio station. In an interview on Fox News, Trump-appointed commission chair Brendan Carr said he opened the investigation after KCBS shared the live locations and vehicle descriptions of immigration officials on Jan. 26. “We have sent a letter of inquiry, a formal investigation into that matter, and they have just a matter of days left to respond to that inquiry and explain how this could possibly be consistent with their public interest obligations,” Carr said. First Amendment advocates worry the FCC investigation will have a chilling effect on news organizations reporting on the Trump administration’s mass deportation plans. “Law enforcement operations, immigration or otherwise, are matters of public interest,” said David Loy, legal director for the First Amendment Coalition. “People generally have the right to report this on social media and in print and so on. So it’s very troubling because it’s possible the FCC is potentially being weaponized to crack down on reporting that the administration simply just doesn’t like.” Loy worried that the move could deter other news organizations from pursuing reporting critical of the Trump administration. “It’s an intimidating exercise. The process is the punishment,” Loy said. “Even if charges are never filed, people have to look over their shoulder to wonder, is the government going to come after me because I report something that the government doesn’t like me to say?”

[...] Last year, Carr criticized his own commission for voting to approve part of Audacy’s bankruptcy reorganization plan that would involve the investment firm founded by billionaire George Soros, a donor to liberal causes and a lightning rod for the right wing. Soros Fund Management bought much of Audacy’s debt during the reorganization process, Bloomberg reported. This drew the ire of Carr and other conservatives, and Carr vowed to take another look at that decision after being tapped by Trump to lead the FCC. The clashes with KCBS and its parent company are only the latest confrontations between President Trump’s FCC and media organizations.

FCC Chair Brendan Carr’s war on the free press goes marching on, as the agency is launching a meritless investigation into San Francisco AM radio station KCBS over its coverage on ICE raids.

[corruptedcaps]

Moral Objection: Part One

This is a custom story written for @callmekeira who suggested my new profile pic.

Keira's days began before the sun had even considered waking, her coffee-fueled determination propelling her through labyrinthine legal texts and intricate case studies. As a junior associate at a prestigious law firm, she had always harbored a genuine desire to help people, to right wrongs, and to see justice served. But the deeper she delved into the firm's operations, the more disillusioned she became.

The towering glass and steel façade of the law firm masked an undercurrent of ambition that disregarded the very values Keira held dear. Partners and senior associates reveled in their power, often at the expense of ethics. However, the embodiment of this ruthlessness was Elissa, the firm's most dazzling partner. It was an open secret she used her outrageous beauty to climb quickly in the law firm, but it was her cold, calculating gaze that left a lasting impression on anyone who dared cross her path.

Keira, despite her best intentions, had managed to draw Elissa's ire more than once, always advocating for fairness, for the human element in the cases they handled. And as the sun dipped beneath the city's skyline, the relentless buzz of fluorescent lights bathed the dimly lit office in an eerie glow. Keira was just packing up to leave when her blood went cold as Elissa's frosty voice cut through the air. "Keira, darling," she purred, striding towards her desk, "I need you to stick around. We have a bit of a situation with Alphabraun. They are threatening to move their business elsewhere and you and I are going to convince them to stay.”

Despite Keira’s dislike of Elissa she was somewhat flattered that she was being asked by a top performing partner for help. However her decision was easy, especially consider the clients.

“Alphabraun are amoral and disgustingly unethical. I say we let them leave, maybe then we can attract more right thinking and conscientious companies.” Keira said somehow finding the courage.

Elissa's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a disdainful smile. "Oh, Keira, you truly have a lot to learn. Perhaps you need a little push in the right direction." Without warning, Elissa's perfectly manicured hand shot out, her nails cutting Keira's arm. Keira recoiled, shock coursing through her as her skin tingled beneath Elissa's touch.

"What have you done?" Keira gasped, staring at the faint, glowing mark on her arm. Elissa leaned in, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Something to make you see my point of view, dear. You'll thank me later." Keira watched, both mystified and alarmed.

A rush of warmth surged through Keira's veins, radiating from the mark on her arm. Her heart pounded, and she felt her senses sharpening, as if the world around her was coming into crystalline focus. As the sensation enveloped her, she realized her wound was healing before her eyes, the skin stitching itself together seamlessly.

Suddenly, her skin seemed to glow from within, taking on a luminous quality that had been absent before. Her hair, once a simple shade of brown, transformed into cascading waves of rich, golden blonde silk, catching the light with every movement. Her makeup subtly shifted, enhancing her features and emphasizing her eyes, making them appear more enchanting and mysterious.

A generous swell graced her chest, giving her tits that caused the zipper on her sports jacket to open. And as she flexed her hands, she couldn't help but notice her nails, now elongated and perfectly painted red, eerily matched Elissa’s.

Elissa's icy gaze locked onto Keira's changed form, a triumphant glint in her eyes. "Well, any objections now?" she inquired, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Keira's gaze slid down to her own transformed body, a sense of delight replacing her previous resistance. An intoxicating sensation of power flowed through her, igniting thoughts that were wicked and bold.

Her previous thoughts of justice and right and wrong seemed laughable and childish to her now. Why should she care about anyone but herself?

Keira's lips curled into a seductive smile as she met Elissa's gaze. "Yes plenty but they all have to do with what I’m wearing," she purred, her voice carrying a newfound confidence and allure. Elissa's own smile widened, clearly pleased with her handiwork, as she gestured for Keira to follow.

They stepped into Elissa's lavish office, adorned with sleek furniture and an air of authority. Elissa led her into a closet bigger than Keira's cubicle. As Keira surveyed the array of garments before her, she felt a wicked excitement bubbling within her. Each outfit seemed to carry a feeling of dominance and elegance that resonated with her transformed being.

Keira's fingers glided over the fabric of the outfit she had chosen, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. The tight, deep vee neck dress was made of a material that was dangerously close to being transparent but it clung to her curves, accentuating her newly heightened figure in way she couldn't deny or pass up.

As Keira stood before the mirror, the transformation was complete. She was no longer the conscientious young woman who had walked into the office that morning. With a newfound allure and wickedness, she was ready to step into a world where power, seduction, and ruthlessness reigned supreme.

“You look divine darling. Ready to do whatever it takes to keep these men with us?” Elissa said beaming proudly at her creation.

“Try and stop me.” Keira said wickedly smiling back at her new friend.

Keira and Elissa glided into the upscale club, their entrance sparking immediate intrigue. The male clients, a group of affluent and self-assured men, shifted their attention to the pair of alluring women that had just graced their midst. As they approached, Keira felt the weight of their gazes, a mixture of lust and curiosity. She loved it.

Their haughty vanity that normally repelled her seemed intoxicatingly attractive to her. Amid the crowd, one figure stood out—Jack, an enigmatic alpha amongst the group. His intense blue eyes locked onto Keira's, their connection igniting sparks that seemed to reflect the dim club lighting.

Amid the throbbing bass, Keira found herself engaged in a playful exchange with Jack, her words laced with a wicked charm. "So, Jack," she purred, "we all know you have money and looks, but how are you on the dance floor?" Jack's confident smile widened as he matched her banter. "Only one way to find out," he shot back, his voice dripping with innuendo.

Their dance grew more intimate, and as Jack's hands encircled her waist, Keira whispered, her tone dripping with wicked allure, "are you as good a lover as you are a dancer?" Jack's laughter resonated in her ear as he pulled her closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea," he murmured, the promise of a thrilling secret hanging between them.

Keira's fingers intertwined with Jack's, her grip firm as she pulled him toward the exit, her eyes locked onto his. The desire to continue their flirtatious encounter away from prying eyes was undeniable, and she could practically feel the magnetic pull between them growing stronger by the second.

As they moved through the club, Elissa's voice, a soft whisper, brushed against Keira's ear. "Good girl, seal the deal. I'll see you tomorrow," she murmured, her mischievous grin and wink sending a thrill down Keira's spine. The words echoed in Keira's mind, fueling the newfound confidence that was coursing through her.

In the privacy of a luxurious limousine, Keira's lips met Jack's in a passionate kiss. The electricity that had sizzled between them on the dance floor now ignited with a fervor that was impossible to ignore. Between heated kisses, Keira began undoing Jack’s belt and slipped her hand under to grab his formidable member. Jack moaned wantonly as Keira stroked it with precision. As she felt his cock throb as it came closer and closer to cumming she mounted him but hover her pussy just out of reach of his aching dick.

“Now Jack, if you want me to give you the best orgasm of your life then you’re going to have to tell me what I want to hear.” Keira said as she hissed darkly into his ear.

“I love you?” Jack said confused and horny in equal measure.

“Awh that’s cute honey but what I want to hear you say is that you’re keeping your business with our firm.” She continued to whisper as she tantalizingly dipped her perfect pussy off the top of his dick for a moment before retracting quickly.

“Oh fuck yes yes! As long as you’re with the firm then that’s where me and my company will stay.” He groaned.

“Good boy.” She said with a wicked smile as she lowered on to his cock where they both moaned in unison. Keira rode his dick up and down slowly at first before picking up the pace. She felt an incredible amount of control over her pussy muscles like never before. Every time she felt Jack close to cumming she was able to squeeze just enough to stop it. It felt good to be in control.

When she recognized the building of her street out the window she finally allowed him to orgasm. She felt her inside get lined with his juices which made a satisfying slurp as she got off him. Before Jack could parse what was happening Keira was already clip clopping towards her apartment.

“Wait! Keira, come back to my place.” He called out. His desire was palpable, but she didn’t even break her walk or turn around, "Another time, stud."

Up in her apartment, a sudden exhaustion washed over her like a tidal wave. The whirlwind of emotions and experiences had drained her, and as soon as she lay down, she succumbed to sleep's sweet embrace.

To be continued…

[mushsect]

Zavok and Zik

Zik is the oldest of the Deadly Six. Once a leader of his own pack, Zik has taken up a supporting role in his disciple Zavok’s group. He enjoys spending his time at the tropical zone within the Lost Hex, indulging in fruity drinks and practicing his calligraphy so as to not be rusty. Do not be tricked, however. Zik stands as the second most skilled in the six, making him one of the deadliest members. With his masterful control over the water and his walking stick, which acts as his brush and his weapon, this paradise for him is a hell for you.

Zavok is the leader of the Deadly Six, and by far the strongest. A ruthless, hot headed and brash fighter, he fought and clawed his way to the top of the food chain, sending any zeti not worth his time into hiding. He has a natural ability to produce a magma within him that shines blue, burning more than natural magma ever could. With this, he can spit it at his enemies in a fireball, or even coat his fists in the boiling magma to lay down his law. He has claimed the entire volcanic region of the Lost Hex as his own, setting up his base at the very top of the largest volcano. Zavok is a firm believer in discipline and guerilla tactics, and as such has structured the Deadly Six around his ideas. With all these colorful personalities in his pack, he finds himself butting heads with just about every member of his group, sans his own master. Despite this, Zavok deeply cares about each member of the six, and respects each of their abilities. This is his pack, his family. And he’ll make sure you’re just another name lost on the hex if you find yourself in his ire.

(zik likes to surf with his brush btw)

[darkmaga-returns]

"Think about it, Donald Trump announces the External Revenue Service, and his goal is very simple (...) his goal is to abolish the Internal Revenue Service and let all the outsiders pay," Lutnick told Fox News host Jesse Watters.

Trump has said that the External Revenue Service will force foreign trade partners to "finally pay their fair share," and has previously floated the idea of abolishing federal income taxes as part of his plans for "tariffing and taxing foreign nations to enrich our citizens."

Lutnick also said that Elon Musk and DOGE were "going to cut" $1 trillion, "and then we're going to get rid of all these tax scams that hammer against America, and we're going to raise a trillion dollars of revenue."

The IRS is responsible for collecting the federal taxes from individuals and corporations - taking in some $823 billion in individual taxes in 2024, roughly 52% of total revenue, according to the Treasury Department.

Lutnick's remarks come as the IRS is reportedly looking to lay off thousands of workers. According to the Associated Press, the agency will start by letting go roughly 7,000 probationary workers in Washington and around the country. Those with roughly one year or less of service at the agency - largely in compliance departments - will be affected, according to the report.

The layoffs are part of the Trump administration’s intensified efforts to shrink the size of the federal workforce through the Department of Government Efficiency by ordering agencies to lay off nearly all probationary employees who have not yet gained civil service protection. They come despite IRS employees involved in the 2025 tax season being told earlier this month that they would not be allowed to accept a buyout offer from the Trump administration until mid-May, after the taxpayer filing deadline. It’s unclear how the layoffs may affect tax collection services this year. As the nation’s revenue collector, the IRS was tasked during the Biden administration with targeting high-wealth tax evaders for an additional stream of income to the U.S., which is $36 trillion in debt. By the end of 2024, the IRS collected over $1.3 billion in back taxes from rich tax dodgers. -AP

On Wednesday, the NY Times reported that the IRS would begin laying off roughly 6,000 employees on Thursday, and will target 'relatively recent hires which the Biden administration had attempted to revitalize with a surge of funding and new staff.' According to that report, IRS managers on Wednesday began asking their employees to bring their government-issued equipment to the office.

"Under an executive order, I.R.S. has been directed to terminate probationary employees who were not deemed critical to filing season," one email reads. "We don’t have many details that we are permitted to share, but this is all tied to compliance with the executive order."

According to former IRS official Dave Kautter, "There’s a flood of résumés from people at the I.R.S. looking for jobs throughout the tax community," adding "Law firms are getting a fair number of résumés, accounting firms are getting a fair number of résumés."

The IRS employs roughly 90,000 people across the country.

[dhaaruni]

I'm literally dying at how in his new book, Citizen, Bill Clinton flat out goes, "I was broke after my presidency because I sent my daughter to Stanford (and also kept on getting in legal trouble #whoops) so I wanted to make money before I died (which was likely to be soon)".

I low key think Republicans hated the Clintons so much because they worked for their money and weren't born into wealth, and also because Hillary made 5x as much as Bill which to his credit, he was unphased by but the men of America not so much.

[irstaxexpert]

Learn six proven tips to handle a CDTFA tax audit effectively. Discover how to prepare, organize records, and respond professionally. Safeguard your business with expert advice and reduce the risk of liabilities.

[lawfirm-elixir]

Elixir Legal Services is a well-known Tax Law firm in Mumbai. We render services in both, Direct tax and Indirect tax, and have won accolades and client confidence through our end-to-end involvement, experienced attorney, and solution-oriented approach.

[trannyfaggotry]

if you see this pls reblog, this needs to get to the brazilians on this site asap

brazilian legislators are trying to make abortion illegal in any case, including when the pregnancy is a direct result of rape. read the whole post if you wanna know how to stop it from happening

What is happening:

some of you may not know but brazilian law only allows access to legal abortion on three cases:

- if the fetus has anencephaly, i.e. does not have a fully formed brain, and is incompatible with life (babies born with it die within a few hours or days; most pregnancies end in miscarriage);

- if the pregnancy presents a risk to the pregnant person's life;

- if the pregnancy is the result of rape.

a proposed amendment to the constitution that outlaws abortion in any case, including the ones already approved by law, has just been approved and it's own it's way to be voted for on two other comissions. If it is approved by these two other commissions it will become law.

What will happen if it is approved?

• Children under 14 years old that have gotten pregnant from rape will have to carry the pregnancy to term, at risk of losing their own lives. In Brazil, an estimate of 100 children up to 14 years old are sexually abused per day;

• People pregnant with fetuses incompatible with life will have to carry the pregnancy to term;

• It will also make in vitro fertilization illegal, as it establishes that "human life begins at conception";

• It will also make stem cell research illegal.

How can I help?

If you're not brazilian please share this, specially if you know a brazilian person that might be affected by this shit it if becomes law.

Já se você é daqui, você pode pressionar os representantes do teu estado por e-mail, acessando o site aqui embaixo:

criançanaoémae.org

Vou deixar tbm o link de um abaixo-assinado, criado pela Frente Nacional Pela Legalização do Aborto:

link do abaixo assinado no change.org (criado pela Frente Nacional Pela Legalização do Aborto)

Amanhã dia 28.11 vai rolar em São Paulo também o Ato Contra a PEC do Estuprador em frente à Câmara Municipal, as 17h30. Logo após, teremos uma Audiência Pública referente à Violação do Direito ao Aborto Legal Em São Paulo.

Quem tiver por lá e puder ir será muito mais que bem-vinde! Vou deixar aqui embaixo os informes.

Endereço: Viaduto Jacareí, 100

Mais info em: Insta

SIGAMOS FIRMES!

[meret118]

While it hasn't yet been approved, Musk has already threatened government workers on his social media site, X, which has led to online bullying. Now he's talking about targeting the agency that enforces laws that protect Americans from banks, mortgage lenders and other financial markets.

. . .

One person suggested it was akin to defunding the corporate police.

. . .

Since its founding, the bureau "secured more than $19 billion in consumer relief, while penalizing large financial institutions and technology firms for allegedly mishandling Americans’ money," the Post reported. "Its oversight often has stoked the ire of the nation’s biggest banks, credit card companies and other lenders, which have sued the bureau repeatedly over charges of regulatory overreach."

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Elizabeth Warren on weaponized budget models

In yesterday’s essay, I broke down the new series from The American Prospect on the hidden ideology and power of budget models, these being complex statistical systems for weighing legislative proposals to determine if they are “economically sound.” The assumptions baked into these models are intensely political, and, like all dirty political actors, the model-makers claim they are “empirical” while their adversaries are “doing politics”:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/03/all-models-are-wrong/#some-are-useful

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/04/cbo-says-no/#wealth-tax

Today edition of the Prospect continues the series with an essay by Elizabeth Warren, describing how her proposal for universal child care was defeated by the incoherent, deeply political assumptions of the Congressional Budget Office’s model, blocking an important and popular policy simply because “computer says no”:

https://prospect.org/economy/2023-04-04-policymakers-fight-losing-battle-models/

When the Build Back Better bill was first mooted, it included a promise of universal, federally funded childcare. This was excised from the final language of the bill (renamed the Bipartisan Infrastructure Bill), because the CBO said it would cost too much: $381.5b over ten years.

This is a completely nonsensical number, and the way that CBO arrived at it is illuminating, throwing the ideology of CBO modeling into stark relief. You see, the price tag for universal childcare did not include the benefits of childcare!

As Warren points out, this is not how investment works. No business leader assesses their capital expenditures without thinking of the dividends from those investments. No firm decides whether to open a new store by estimating the rent and salaries and ignoring the sales it will generate. Any business that operates on that basis would never invest in anything.

Universal childcare produces enormous dividends. Kids who have access to high-quality childcare grow up to do better in school, have less trouble with the law, and earn more as adults. Mothers who can’t afford childcare, meanwhile, absent themselves from the workforce during their prime earning years. Those mothers are less likely to advance professionally, have lower lifetime earnings, and a higher likelihood of retiring without adequate savings.

What’s more, universal childcare is the only way to guarantee a living wage to childcare workers, who are disproportionately likely to rely on public assistance, including SNAP (AKA food stamps) to make ends meet. These stressors affect childcare workers’ job performance, and also generate public expenditures to keep those workers fed and housed.

But the CBO model does not include any of those benefits. As Warren says, in a CBO assessment, giving every kid in America decent early childhood care and every childcare worker a living wage produces the same upside as putting $381.5 in a wheelbarrow and setting it on fire.

This is by design. Congress has decreed that CBO assessments can’t factor in secondary or indirect benefits from public expenditure. This is bonkers. Public investment is all secondary and indirect benefits — from highways to broadband, from parks to training programs, from education to Medicare. Excluding indirect benefits from assessments of public investments is a literal, obvious, unavoidable recipe for ending the most productive and beneficial forms of public spending.

It means that — for example — a CBO score for Meals on Wheels for seniors is not permitted to factor in the Medicare savings from seniors who can age in their homes with dignity, rather than being warehoused at tremendous public expense in nursing homes.

It means that the salaries of additional IRS enforcers can only be counted as an expense — Congress isn’t allowed to budget for the taxes that those enforcers will recover.

And, of course, it’s why we can’t have Medicare For All. Private health insurers treat care as an expense, with no upside. Denying you care and making you sicker isn’t a bug as far as the health insurance industry is concerned — it’s a feature. You bear the expense of the sickness, after all, and they realize the savings from denying you care.

But public health programs can factor in those health benefits and weigh them against health costs — in theory, at least. However, if the budgeting process refuses to factor in “indirect” benefits — like the fact that treating your chronic illness lets you continue to take care of your kids and frees your spouse from having to quit their job to look after you — then public health care costings become indistinguishable from the private sector’s for-profit death panels.

Child care is an absolute bargain. The US ranks 33d out of 37 rich countries in terms of public child care spending, and in so doing, it kneecaps innumerable mothers’ economic prospects. The upside of providing care is enormous, far outweighing the costs — so the CBO just doesn’t weigh them.

Warren is clear that there’s no way to make public child care compatible with CBO scoring. Even when she whittled away at her bill, excluding millions of families who would have benefited from the program, the CBO still flunked it.

The current budget-scoring system was designed for people who want to “shrink government until it fits in a bathtub, and then drown it.” It is designed so that we can’t have nice things. It is designed so that the computer always says no.

Warren calls for revisions to the CBO model, to factor in those indirect benefits that are central to public spending. She also calls for greater diversity in CBO oversight, currently managed by a board of 20 economists and only two non-economists — and the majority of the economists got their PhDs from the same program and all hew to the same orthodoxy.

For all its pretense of objectivity, modeling is a subjective, interpretive discipline. If all your modelers are steeped in a single school, they will incinerate the uncertainty and caveats that should be integrated into every modeler’s conclusions, the humility that comes from working with irreducible uncertainty.

Finally, Warren reminds us that there are values that are worthy of consideration, beyond a dollars-and-cents assessment. Even though programs like child care pay for themselves, that’s not the only reason to favor them — to demand them. Child care creates “an America in which everyone has opportunities — and ‘everyone’ includes mamas.” Child care is “an investment in care workers, treating them with respect for the hard work they do.”

The CBO’s assassination of universal child care is exceptional only because it was a public knifing. As David Dayen and Rakeen Mabud wrote in their piece yesterday, nearly all of the CBO’s dirty work is done in the dark, before a policy is floated to the public:

https://prospect.org/economy/2023-04-03-hidden-in-plain-sight/

The entire constellation of political possibility has been blotted out by the CBO, so that when we gaze up at the sky, we can only see a few sickly stars — weak economic nudges like pricing pollution, and not the glittering possibilities of banning it. We see the faint hope of “bending the cost-curve” on health care, and not the fierce light of simply providing care.

We can do politics. We have done it before. Every park and every highway, our libraries and our schools, our ports and our public universities — these were created by people no smarter than us. They didn’t rely on a lost art to do their work. We know how they did it. We know what’s stopping us from doing it again. And we know what to do about it.

Have you ever wanted to say thank you for these posts? Here’s how you can: I’m kickstarting the audiobook for my next novel, a post-cyberpunk anti-finance finance thriller about Silicon Valley scams called Red Team Blues. Amazon’s Audible refuses to carry my audiobooks because they’re DRM free, but crowdfunding makes them possible.

[Image ID: A disembodied hand, floating in space. It holds a Univac mainframe computer. The computer is shooting some kind of glowing red rays that are zapping three US Capitol Buildings, suspended on hovering platforms. In the background, the word NO is emblazoned in a retrocomputing magnetic ink font, limned in red.]

[shannendoherty-fans]

Shannen Doherty’s Untimely Death Sparks Important Conversations About Healthcare Access And Equity

By Janice Gassam Asare

Shannen Doherty, the actress best known for her roles in Beverly Hills, 90210 and Charmed has died after a long battle with cancer, at the age of 53. In a 2015 statement to People magazine, the actress revealed her breast cancer diagnosis, stating that she was “undergoing treatment” and that she was suing a firm and its former business manager for causing her to lose her health insurance due to a failure to pay the insurance premiums. According to reports, in a lawsuit Doherty shared that she hired a firm for tax, accounting, and investment services, among other things, and that part of their role was to make her health insurance premium payments to the Screen Actors Guild; Doherty claimed that their failure to make the premium payments in 2014 caused her health insurance to lapse until the re-enrollment period in 2015. When Doherty went in for a checkup in March of 2015, the cancer was discovered, at which time it had spread. In the lawsuit, Doherty indicated that if she had insurance, she would have been able to get the checkup sooner—the cancer would have been discovered, and she could have avoided chemotherapy and a mastectomy.

Under the IRS, actors are often classified as independent contractors, which comes with its own set of challenges. Although it is unclear what Doherty’s situation was, for many independent contractors, obtaining health insurance can be difficult. Trying to get health insurance as an independent contractor can be a costly and convoluted process. A 2020 Actors’ Equity Association survey indicated that “more than 80% of nonunion actors and stage managers in California have been misclassified as independent contractors.” A 2021 research study revealed that self-employment (which is what independent contractors are considered to be) was associated with a higher likelihood of being uninsured.

Doherty’s tragic situation invites a larger conversation about healthcare access and equity in the United States. According to the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, the Affordable Care Act (ACA), also known as “Obamacare,” was signed into law in 2010 and revolutionized healthcare access in two distinct ways: “creating health insurance marketplaces with federal financial assistance that reduces premiums and deductibles and by allowing states to expand Medicaid to adults with household incomes up to 138 percent of the federal poverty level.” The ACA helped reduce the number of uninsured Americans and expanded healthcare access to those most in need. It also helped close gaps in coverage for different populations, including those with pre-existing health conditions, lower-income individuals, part-time workers, and those from historically excluded and marginalized populations.

Despite strides made through the ACA, healthcare access and equity are still persistent issues, especially within marginalized communities. Research from the Henry J. Kaiser Family Foundation (KFF) examining 2010-2022 data indicated that in 2022, non-elderly American Indian and Alaska Natives (AIAN) and Hispanic people had the greatest uninsured rates (19.1% and 18% respectively). When compared with their white counterparts, Native Hawaiian and Other Pacific Islanders (NHOPI) and Black people also had higher uninsured rates at 12.7% and 10%, respectively. The Commonwealth Fund reported that between 2013 and 2021, “states that expanded Medicaid eligibility had higher rates of insurance coverage and health care access, with smaller disparities between racial/ethnic groups and larger improvements, than states that didn’t expand Medicaid.” It’s important to note that if a Republican president is elected, Project 2025, the far-right policy proposal document, seeks to upend Medicaid as we know it by introducing limits on the amount of time that a person can receive Medicaid.

When peeling back the layers to examine these racial and ethnic differences in more detail, the Brookings Institute noted in 2020 that the refusal of several states to expand Medicaid could be one contributing factor. One 2017 research study found that some underrepresented racial groups were more likely to experience insurance loss than their white counterparts. The study indicated that for Black and Hispanic populations, specific trigger events were more likely, as well as “socioeconomic characteristics” that were linked to more insurance loss and slower insurance gain. The study also noted that in the U.S., health insurance access was associated with employment and and marriage and that Black and Hispanic populations were “disadvantaged in both areas.”

Equity in and access to healthcare is fundamental, but bias is omnipresent. Age bias, for example, is a pervasive issue in breast cancer treatment. Research also indicates that racial bias is a prevalent issue—because the current guidelines in breast cancer screenings are based on white populations, this can lead to a delayed diagnosis for women from non-white communities. Our health is one of our greatest assets and healthcare should be a basic human right, no matter what state or country you live in. As a society, we must ensure that healthcare is available, affordable and accessible to all citizens. After all, how can a country call itself great if so many of its citizens, especially those most marginalized and vulnerable, don’t have access to healthcare?